"My Father," he replied quietly, and Chloe's mind began to race at the potential meanings behind this short answer. Lucifer still held her tightly and was unbearably close to her, but she couldn't find it in herself to really complain. Her heart...ached for him.

"Your father gave you those scars?" Her pale blue eyes skittering back up to meet his dark ones. The intensity she found there and what was actually almost human (not that she didn't think that he already was, but slowly, everything from the night before was flooding back to her; it was all too much to process all at once. Chloe had to be sure first.) had her taken aback. He offered her a minute shake of his head and the detective let out a small breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Why was it that she found herself so abruptly concerned with Mr. Morningstar's well being - both physically and mentally? Chloe shifted anxiously on her bare feet, noting the previously ignored bite of cold tile beneath them. Her wrist was still trapped in the man's grasp. It felt as if she had been stuck so close to him, for an eternity. But her curious nature wouldn't allow her to back off just yet.

"I had them cut off," he told her finally, his warm breath caressing her cheek, smelling vaguely of what she assumed was a cinnamon toothpaste. It suited him. Chloe shook her head, not quite understanding. She was about to question him again when he released her, walking backwards rather swiftly, as to not really turn himself around for her to see the scars again. He smiled half-heartedly and retreated back to the bathroom, rambling excuses along the way.

"Well, it is morning and the day has already begun, and I'm sure you would like to get a bite to eat before we head out for the day, right partner? Lots to do, so little time! I'll just get dressed and we can be on our way - Oh, before I forget! Maze left you some of her things to wear, shower's open. I'll be downstairs!" After all, her clothes had ended up just as tattered and bloody as his own, though she was trying hard not to let her mind drift there. The thought that she really had been about to die was alone enough to set her nerves back on edge. And then, there was what Lucifer - No, definitely not right now, Chloe Decker.

Disappointment and momentary horror gripped at her, but she shook them both off. It wouldn't do for her to lose it right now, what with so much work to do. And her phone was still ringing! She tousled her hair absently, making her way back to the bed to answer it. She allowed herself to sit on the edge of the bed. God, she had slept in this bed. Had...he slept here too?


"Hey, where've you been? Trixie and I stopped by the house before school. She forgot her project. You weren't there? Are you at the office already?" Dan. He sounded aggravated. It was way too early to be annoyed. She sighed, frowning at the large windows of Lucifer's bedroom. He had oodles of cash for someone who had a record that only went back for five years. The man was a great mystery; he was one that she needed to solve. Or let go, but you just don't know how to do that, do you, Chloe? What if he's just some psycho with an identity crisis? You can't be seri -

"Chloe? Hey! Are you even there? Are you listening?" She snapped out of her reverie. Dan's voice filtered to her through the phone, but she didn't hear Trixie in the background, so he'd probably already dropped their daughter off at school. Speaking of, what time was it? She worried her bottom lip for a moment with a fingertip.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just been a rough night. I...I was working on a case all night. I'm just tired."

There was a lengthy pause, and the detective took those few seconds to grab at whatever Lucifer's bartender had left her, not taking the opportunity to really look at it, and made her way to what she assumed was the bathroom. Since Lucifer had gone back that way, it was most likely there. She balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Look, I'll just talk to you later, alright, Chloe? Get your head together. You sound...off. Call me later, but know...I'm here if there's something wrong."

"Yeah, it's fine, I'm okay. Thanks. Bye."


And with that, Dan had ended the call. She listened to the line go dead and then unceremoniously dropped both the phone and the clothes in a pile on the sink. Lucifer's whole bathroom was done up in dark, gorgeous stone that had to cost a fortune, and sleek metal accessories. Wow, another surprise, though she didn't know why she was so shocked. Lux was right below, if she was thinking right, finally, and it was just as elaborate as his upstairs apartment. Chloe fumbled with the faucet knobs, wondering how he had gotten her all the way here from the warehouse. She remembered him, seeing him there and realizing that she wasn't dead. The feel of his body heat as whimpers left her, as she released the anxiety that had been tightening her throat and bubbled up from her chest, feeling him cradle her to him when she needed it most. She remembered fighting it, because she was strong and an adult and Chloe Decker didn't cry - but then, she had needed to. And it had felt almost sinfully good to just let go. It if hadn't been for him, her daughter might not have had a mother. She stepped into the water. I almost lost everything. My family, my life...

She sighed, and let the warmth of the water soothe her tight muscles, fingertips shaking as she ran them through her dampening hair. When she switched from actress (and thank god she did, because it hadn't worked out so well for her as it had her mother) to cop, she knew the risks. There was always a chance that you would die on the job, but...to come so close to really dying. It stole her breath away. It terrified her. She shuddered and grabbed blindly at a bottle of shampoo, vigorously scrubbing her head before washing the caked grime and (was that blood?) sweat from her body. But she hadn't died, and someone had been there. Someone had saved her life - and she owed them. She owed Lucifer, as much as she hated to admit it. Rinsing the soap from herself she ran her hands back over her face. Her chest was feeling heavy again, breath short and nearly painful. Swallowing thickly, Chloe leaned against the shower wall. A small sob escaped her. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just move on and do what she needed to do with her day? Because, you dolt, you've been through some shit. It isn't that easy for most people. You know, life and death experiences?

Before she knew it, Chloe found herself curled up in the corner of the stone shower, hot water pelting her as her shoulders shook. She sniffled, swiping at the rivulets of both fresh and salt water on her face. God, her head hurt.

"Shut up, pig!" The burly man sneered at her, brandishing his pistol. His buggy eyes shone creepily under the light streaming in from the smudged old windows, yellowed teeth and sour breath making the detective shrink back just a bit into the cold brick. She waited with baited breath. Desperate men like this could be trigger happy, and with steel so close to her face she didn't want him to pull it. She scowled, averting her eyes.

"Filthy woman," he ground out, as if she had done something vulgar. "Gonna make a name for myself with you!" He accentuated his last word with a swift swat at her face with the gun. Chloe saw stars and her vision faded for a moment as it made contact with her temple. She dazedly felt something warm and sticky slicking her cheek.

"Ugh," she groaned softly. She minutely shook her head to get rid of the haziness. A laugh fell from crooked lips somewhere above her, a muddy boot nudging her side. The man knelt beside her, his awful smell meeting her nose once again. She looked up blearily.

"Maybe I'll have a little fun before I kill you, pig." He flashed his teeth at her, a grubby hand snatching at her collar. Her shirt began to rip, exposing the curves of her breasts and the lace of her bra. Chloe made a sound of distress, swatting at him in a knee jerk reaction. Her vision went black as he shouted angrily, words unintelligible and he clocked her again with his gun...

"Detective?" Lucifer's voice filtered in to her, bouncing off the marbled walls of the bathroom. She lifted her head, and damn it all, he was in the doorway. Thank the heavens for frosted glass. She subconsciously covered herself with her arms, even still. "Oh," she could barely make out the spread of a mischievous grin on his face, "Twice in one week, hmm?"

"I'm almost ready," she ground out, narrowing her eyes through the shower door at him. His chuckle made her frown. He didn't leave. "Get out."

"Why? It isn't as if I haven't seen it before."

"That was an accident. I'm not something to be ogled at because you feel like it."

Another chuckle. "I think that's up for debate."

Chloe clenched her jaw, choosing to stare stubbornly at the faucet rather than the blurred, smug mug on the far side of the bathroom. "Shut up, Lucifer...and...thanks. For, you know." Her voice cracked as she spoke, making her wince. Silence met her.

Normally, the devilish man would insert a witty remark here or offer up another joke of sorts in poor taste as smoothly as he could, but he didn't. Odd. He went for a cabinet and pulled out an extra fluffy towel, hesitating right in front of the shower door. Chloe had ducked her head back down, shoulders shaking. She found herself crying quietly into her tucked knees. The door opened and the water stopped. Lucifer stepped in, shoes and all, looking down at her awkwardly. He shifted on his feet for a brief moment, but Chloe didn't freak or attempt to move out of his sight.

"Detective?" The fallen angel prodded a little softer. He knelt by her, not minding the dampness spreading through his clothes. He wrapped the towel around her.

She wanted to say that she was okay, and she just needed a minute, or for him to get out, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything of use. Only - "Lucifer," she sobbed, unable to get a hold of herself. Chloe hated it. Feeling this week and unsure and...wrong.

What did the Devil think he should do in a situation like this? Could he ever be caring or help someone when really in need? Did he have it in him? Of course, but he was the King of Hell. It may or may not have been the best for his reputation, but did that even matter? Lucifer Morningstar waited only a few breaths longer. To Hell with reputation. His brother Amenadiel could have his and Hell for all he cared.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, gathering her into his arms carefully. Oddly, it made her feel somewhat better, but the tears just came harder. He allowed his chin to rest atop her head, readjusting her towel more firmly and sitting quietly on the wet stone floor.

This was the second time she ended up here - with him. She leaned upward, unsure of how long they stayed that way. Slender digits trailed up to his button up shirt, and the dark jacket he wore tight on top. She was still shaking. Chloe swallowed a pathetic hiccup. Her face was stained pink. How embarrassing was it that this had happened twice with a potential criminal (because where did he got his cash flow with only Lux and an identity that could only be traced back five years)? How could she feel so safe with someone that believed he was the Devil; and she couldn't forget all the strange things that happened around him that nobody could explain.

They were nearly nose to nose when their eyes finally met. Her fingers curled into the fabric. "I'm so sorry," an anxious bite to her lower lip, "You're soaking wet now."

Maybe Lucifer hadn't been expecting that to come out of his "partner's" mouth because he blinked at her, lips parting without words. Those black brown eyes searched her for an answer to the questions he didn't ask, elegant eyebrow arched. The Devil told himself that this meant little, but a piece of him whispered otherwise. The Morning Star needs only himself. That suave grin replaced his expression, shadowed gaze deepening, a shimmer in his eyes that Chloe felt drawn to. God, Lucifer was a charming bastard. She hated that despite everything that had happened, here she was thinking about him in her moment of need, essentially naked in his arms.

"It's quite alright."

Naked in his arms. Naked. The brunette breathed noisily, ducking her head back down. And damn him, he cupped her chin with one hand, bringing her face back to his. "But are you?"

"I..." There were no words, not now. She wasn't okay, even if she wanted to insist that she was. When events like this happened, there was often therapy and long talks with friends and family and, a-and...Lucifer's strong jaw brushed her cheek, the stubble tickling her face.

"Perhaps today is a bloody good day to call out, Chloe?" Ah, not "detective" any longer? A pleasurable, comforting chill ran down her spine. It was...nice.

The dark prince noted her numb nod, gripping at her more tightly before releasing her. He stood, clothing sticking to his flesh uncomfortably. He brought her up with him by the shoulders, that same gentlemanly smile still plastered on. He cared, he'd come to realize, but only because it would be boring without her around. Yes, that was it. And he couldn't have that.

"Come now, let's get you warmed up and into something dry, hm?"

Another nod. "Y-yeah, I guess." Chloe clutched at the towel, tightening it around herself.

A/N: Okay, so I'm hoping this is going well and you are all enjoying it! I'm so nervous about this piece because it was just a spur of the moment muse and Lucifer is such a new show that I don't have too too much to go on! But I'll try my best for you all. (; I don't want them too OOC but this is an AU fic, and I imagine that just about anybody would be a little off after being through some traumatic junk. Let me know what you think!