Chapter Text
Lucifer wasn’t a nervous person. He was cool, and calm, and collected, and wasn’t pacing the length of his penthouse at all. He turned at the edge of his bar while he remembered the conversation he’d recently had with the Detective – one he had certainly wished he could have had with Linda, but said therapist was still avoiding him.
“Detective,” Lucifer had asked over a dead body at a crime scene, “How did Detective Douche approach you when you two first started dating?”
“I’m right here,” Dan said from across the room.
Chloe rolled her eyes, the question not really settling in. When it did, she wasn’t the only one who looked up: Dan turned around from the evidence he was collecting and Ella looked up from the corpse she was photographing. Lucifer squirmed under the scrutiny, which made all three of them exchange glances.
“Oh, is that a very important clue I see?” Lucifer asked, pointing across the room as far away from him as possible.
Ella stood, almost dropping her camera. “Who are you asking out?” she fired off.
Chloe followed Lucifer as he crossed the room. “Do we know them?”
“Uh, we better know them,” Ella added as she followed.
“While I’m interested, is this something that needs to be talked about at a crime scene?” Dan asked, his voice growing louder as the three of them walked away from him.
“Yes!” shouted Ella and Chloe, their eyes never leaving Lucifer.
“No, no,” agreed Lucifer, “Forget I asked.”
They had not forgotten that he asked. They cornered him before he could leave, asking for details, giving him advice that he really did not need, but still accepted. Ella asked if it was you. Lucifer quickly changed the subject. Chloe said that meant it was, it had to be you, who else was it going to be if not you. Lucifer let them talk until he could get a word in, asking them what the best approach would be.
Ella shrugged. “You’re friends,” she pointed out, “Just relax.” She waved her hands towards him. “Be yourself.”
Chloe stuttered in disagreement but said nothing. She crossed her arms and smiled.
So, Lucifer paced.
You, on the other hand, paced the elevator as it traveled up the floors between your apartment and Lucifer’s penthouse, stopping only to lean your head against the cool metal of the wall. You couldn’t understand why you were stressing yourself out – Lucifer, of all people, would understand that you would be at work a little late, especially when you told him it was because Linda had to move your appointment to a later time – though, she wasn’t clear on why she needed to move it. So, it was fine!
You’d be a little late.
It was fine.
The doors slid open.
You snapped your head up. Lucifer twisted away from his windows. You both stumbled over the others name as you walked into the penthouse.
He frowned. “Is something wrong?” he asked. He crossed the room, meeting you next to the piano, where he grabbed your elbows and held you ever so gently.
“N-No,” you answered. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? You look…a little manic, Luci.”
He squeezed your arms, then let go. His face was soft but closed off. “No, I’m…I’m alright.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s on your mind?”
“I just…wanted to say that I’ll be late for my shift tonight,” you hesitantly answered. He frowned, the worry creasing his brow. “Not for something bad!” you rushed to say, “Linda, she had to move my appointment for something, and she didn’t have any other time, so it’s gonna be late.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. You watched him, tilting your head. There was something about his face, you noticed. Beneath the stubble, he almost looked…pink? Sunburnt? You almost asked, but he turned away from you, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Of course.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked. You motioned to the elevator as you stepped towards him. “I…I have time before my appointment if you need to talk, Lucifer.”
How could he talk about it when it was about you? He unbuttoned another button as he said, “May I ask you something?”
“Of course,” you murmured.
He turned around. The worry was gone – not gone, covered by the air of confidence and the smug smile he wore. You crossed your arms. The look only faltered a little. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he said. Suggested? Asked?? Was Lucifer Morningstar asking you to dinner???
You were confused first, then shocked, then felt the heat rising to your face. Your eyes widened and your brows arched. “Dinner?” you asked. Was that your voice squeaking or were you imagining it? He nodded. “You wanna have dinner? With me?” You stepped closer to him, pointing as you asked, “Is that what you were worried about?”
He stepped back, the confidence disappearing. “No?” he lied.
Your face was hotter than Hell on a summer day but you were starting to smile. “You were stressing about asking me to dinner,” you stated.
“You have no proof.”
“I do so: you wore a path in the floor,” you said, tracing an invisible line in the air. He turned around to look at the floor. You stepped closer, jabbing a finger in his chest. “Hah!! So, you were worried!”
He scoffed, patted your hand away from his chest but didn’t let it go. “I’m worried you haven’t answered the question, and now you’re making fun of me for it, which is hardly fair.”
Your smile grew wide and soft. “Oh, um…” Your face grew even warmer, if that were possible. “Lucifer, I would love to have dinner with you.”
He took in a breath so deep that you thought it was the first he’d ever taken. “You would?”
“Yes,” you softly said with a nod.
He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Tomorrow night,” he said. You repeated it back to him. “I’ll pick you up.”
Your smile melted into a grin. “You certainly can. I mean, you do know where I live.”
He gave you a wicked smirk. “Are you flirting with me?”
You pulled your hand away as embarrassment, not fondness, heated your face beyond belief. “No,” you obviously lied, turning around. Lucifer started to laugh. “Okay, I’m going to my appointment now!”
“I’m sorry!” he called after you.
“No, you’re not, you liar!” you shouted back. You stepped into the elevator, turned around, and found him there in the elevator doors.
He smiled. “I never lie,” he reminded you, “Tomorrow.”
You nodded. “Tomorrow.”
He let the doors shut. As the elevator started to descend, you heard him shout, “Tomorrow night!!”
“Tomorrow night!” you shouted back. You sat back against the wall of the elevator, pressed a hand to your heart, and closed your eyes. That was unexpected.
Linda stared at you when you relayed the events to her with wide eyes. “Oh,” she whispered, sitting back. “That is…”
“Unexpected,” you offered.
She nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. She fixed her glasses, cleared her throat, then changed the subject, “How have you been sleeping?”
Your smile faltered. You didn’t want to talk about it. You’d been actively avoiding sleeping; staying up for so long that you passed out and just didn’t dream because the nightmares were weighing so heavily on you. The nightmares bothered you, yes, but the similarities you’d had with Charlotte bothered you more.
You scratched your cheek in the same place you remembered touching the face the last time you saw it, just along your jaw, where stubble would cover. You curled your fingers under your chin.
“I really haven’t been,” you admitted. You grabbed a pillow and sighed, hugging it gently. “Ever since I talked to Charlotte—”
Linda sat up. You frowned, watching as she adjusted in her seat, trying to cover the fact that she flinched at the woman’s name. She cleared her throat and asked, “You talked to Charlotte?”
“Yes,” you said slowly. You leaned forward, squishing the pillow beneath you. “Why are you afraid of Charlotte?”
“I’m not—”
“Linda, do not bullshit me.” Her mouth clicked shut. You stood, dropping the pillow, and walked around the table to sit in front of her. “Please tell me,” you whispered. You held out your hands.
She hesitantly took them. “You wouldn’t believe me,” she sighed, looking up. She looked terrified.
You squeezed her hands, swallowing a lump in your throat. “I wouldn’t believe you?” you asked. You gave a small, incredulous laugh. The event of the last month or so floated to the forefront of your mind and manifested on your tongue. “She…” You heaved a sigh and shifted closer to her. “She was at my apartment,” you said. You shook your head. “Sometime on the same day that you went to the hospital. I dunno if it was before or after, I dunno when you got hurt.” Her hands clenched your fingers so hard you thought they might pop. Your lip trembled and the words spilled out. “I dunno what I saw, or what I felt, but there was a light? And…and since then things have been weird. I’ve had the nightmares? I’ve seen things?” You released her hand to wipe at your eyes and realized you were crying. “The other day I was at a crime scene with Lucifer and Amenadiel was there and time stopped. It stopped. I watched as they spoke with one of the cops and no one was moving, the light didn’t change, Linda, it didn’t change I counted the seconds and it didn’t change. Why didn’t it change?”
She slipped off her chair and wrapped her arms around your neck, squeezing as a sob bubbled up from your lips.
You hadn’t realized how much it all really ate at you until it all came out.
You hugged her tight and cried into her shoulder. She shushed you gently, rubbed your back, stroked your hair. “It’s okay,” she murmured.
“It’s not okay!” you protested. You pulled away from her, sat further back on the table and rubbed your eyes vigorously. “I feel like I’m going crazy!”
“You’re not.” She pulled her chair closer to you. Then, she reached up and unclipped her hair, rubbing her scalp. “I’ve seen it, too.” You looked up. “The light. Maze’s face. Lucifer’s face.”
You shook your head. “What’s wrong with their faces?” you whispered.
She shook her head in return, licking her lips nervously.
“Is it real?” you whispered.
Her fingers trembled as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think it is.”
You nodded slowly, scrubbing your hands over your face. Of course she’d think it was real. Why wouldn’t she? She was the most rational person you knew. “Can I stay with you tonight?” you rasped. You hugged your shoulders, squeezing yourself as tight as you could. You felt like you would crumble if you let go. The bubbly feeling you had walked in with was a distant memory.
“I always have room for you,” she answered, squeezing your arms. You nodded. Your chin started to shake again. “We’ll drink.” You laughed and agreed. “We’ll drink a lot.”
“Please.”
Lux was packed – as it usually was. Ever since you had been hired, had been making changes, the crowds at Lux were growing larger and larger every night. They were even running out of the ingredients to make the Devil’s Tongue drinks – another massive success on your part.
Yet you weren’t there? Lucifer had been looking around, watching the door, waiting for you to return from your appointment with Linda but it had been almost five hours and you hadn’t arrived. He glanced at his phone, tapping it against his thigh nervously when he didn’t see anything.
Had he scared you off? Had you just been pretending to be excited about dinner? Maybe it was a bad idea to ask you on a date, maybe he had ruined things, maybe—
Your favorite song cut through the roar of the crowd as his phone started to ring. He looked down at it. Your face flashed across his screen, a smiling picture of you in his arms as you both tried the Devil’s Tongue for the first time. Your name flashed above your head with the small heart he had added next to it in the middle of the night.
He answered almost instantly, calling your name, asking if you were alright.
You certainly weren’t, he could tell the moment you sniffled and lied and said, “Yeah, I’m fine, Lucifer.”
“Where are you?” he asked, heading up the stairs, turning around, backtracking until he found the hall to your office. It was quiet in there, almost silent as he shut the door behind him, and shivered. He didn’t like being in your office when you weren’t there. It wasn’t right.
“I’m uh…” you sniffed again and he gripped his phone tighter. Had someone hurt you? “I’m fine, I am,” you reassured, “I’m just gonna be staying with Linda for the night, if that’s okay?” With Linda? You were missing work to stay with Linda?
“Is she alright? Did something happen?” he asked, frowning. “I can be there in…” He shook his hand to fix his watch. “Twenty minutes if you need me.”
“No!” Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that. “No, Lucifer, it’s fine, really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He heard your smile that time. “I promise. I um…We just had…a breakthrough? I suppose, and she’s letting me stay here so we can drink and talk some more outside of therapy reasons.” You sniffed. He could barely hear Linda in the background, asking if you were ready to go. “I’m really sorry for missing work tonight, I can make it up on Monday.”
“No, no, it’s nothing to worry yourself over,” he murmured. He rubbed at his chest. It was starting to ache. “Are you sure you’re alright…?”
“I am.” You sighed. “I’m…more alright than I have been these past few weeks.” You sniffled one last time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lucifer, alright?”
“Of course.”
You hesitated, the air heavy, almost as if you wanted to say something else. Lucifer felt words forming at the tip of his tongue the longer you stayed quiet. “Good night, Lucifer,” you whispered, “Don’t do anything reckless.”
He cleared his throat as his heart skipped. “Well,” he said, just as soft, just a fragile as you had, “I’ll be sure to mark blanket forts off my list for tonight, then.” You laughed. It made him smile. “Good night.”
You hung up.
He stared at your picture until his phone screen turned black.