Based on 1x13 preview.
Pre season 2. Lucifer spent some time in Hell. And he's back.
Chloe sat the book on the night stand and tucked her daughter in her bed.
"Why am I too old for the tooth fairy, mommy?" a desperate Trixie asked her mother.
"Because you know it doesn't exist, munchkin, what fun would it be?" she smiled.
"But she didn't exist before," the little girl argued.
Chloe sighed. "Right, you have a point, well, I guess…" The front door opened, prompting her to reach for her gun. "Trix, don't say anything," she whispered. "Scoot under the bed and don't move, not till I come back for you," she urged her.
Trixie rolled under her bed, her eyes pleading. "You're going to be alright mommy," she whispered back.
With a nod, Chloe pulled the cover over the side of the bed and walked quietly to the kitchen, moving as stealthily as she could, gun at the ready. She had a strange feeling, as if the air around her was vibrating. It felt hot and smelled of sulphur. She took a deep breath and turned the corner, facing the front door. Nothing. The door wasn't even ajar.
Who would break into her house and close the door behind them? She proceeded with caution to the island, eyes set on the barrel of the gun, spinning left and right in swift efficient movements. The room was empty. She turned around to get a quick look at the stairs, but should anyone have been upstairs, she would hear the floor creak by now. She turned back to the kitchen, dropped the gun to her thigh, and breathed out heavily.
That's enough, she thought. I have to move out, find myself a nice place in a nice neighbourhood, fat chance she could afford to rent something like that on a cop salary, but she couldn't stay one more minute in her mother's house.
Now that Lucifer was out of the picture, it felt big and lonely. Who would have thought a year ago that she would miss the insufferable owner of Lux slash partner in crime, the one who couldn't stop grating on her nerves if his life depended on it and trying to get her into the sack on a daily basis? Certainly not her. When he went AWOL, she felt empty and betrayed. It was almost six months ago, and she wasn't over it. Every morning, she still expected to find him in the kitchen flipping an omelette or deep frying bacon.
During all this time, guilt nagging, she'd try to patch things up with Dan, but there was a good reason they'd call it quit the first time. It wasn't working. Something was broken that couldn't be mended.
To make matters worse, her mother, banking on her extensive career in corny yet cult scifi flicks, had managed to appear on every zombie shows made in Los Angeles, and has practically moved back in. She didn't want her to be around Trixie more than necessary. She didn't need her input in every single decision she made for her child. Especially when her advice was heavily laced with promises of cameos for Trix on stupid supernatural shows.
She was walking back to her daughter's bedroom when she caught the flicker of a lighter in the living room. She raised her gun and switched on the light with her elbow on her way to the chair. "Don't move!" she screeched, her voice an unexpected high-pitched cry. Conflicted emotions flooded her. She dropped the gun to the floor.
"No need to worry, Detective," a smooth voice greeted her, "I am quite aware of the dangers of passive smoking. Rest assured it was not my intention to light it," Lucifer said, wagging a cigarette. "But I quite missed the bastards," he added, crossing his legs.
"Lucifer? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I see, no welcome back, no I'm glad you're okay, no I missed you…" his eyes lingered on her mouth and she went beet red. "Or perhaps a little?"
"Where were you?"
"In Hell my dear, I had to honour a deal and escort… an acquaintance back to…"
"To London? Wait, don't they have phones in Europe?! You couldn't even text me, for god's sake?" she yelled. " What is wrong with you, I thought we were friends!"
"Were?" he frowned. "Oh, you're upset," he said, "Shall I leave you alone? Say the word and I will not bother you again. I understand if…"
"Lucifer, you're home!" Trixie climbed over his legs and flopped on his lap, snaking her arms around his neck. She gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek before turning to her mother, smiling with glee, oblivious of Lucifer's rigid posture.
It felt so familiar and domestic at the same time, she didn't have it in her to correct her daughter. It was actually a good thing she'd barged in, she might have done something she'd regret.
"See, I knew he'll be back," the girl beamed.
"Trix, what are you doing? I told you I'll come get you when it's over." She crossed her arms before her chest and gave the pair a stern look.
"But it's Lucifer!" the girl whined.
"Beatrice, listen to your mother. Right this instant, she's quite angry because of my unforgivable yet unpreventable behaviour. You wouldn't want to be a collateral casualty?"
"Be a good girl and go back to bed. I promise I shall visit you tomorrow."
"Don't make promises you cannot keep, Lucifer," Chloe snapped.
"Oh but I intend to keep my promise, Detective, I would never lie to Beatrice or you."
Chloe pointed a finger to the bedroom and the girl obediently scurried back to her bed not before exchanging an apologizing look with Lucifer. The door closed with a click behind her.
"So, where were we?"
"You can't just pulled a David Copperfield on me and pretend nothing happened. The LAPD searched for you, the FBI, damn, we got Interpol involved. You can't save Trixie and just disappear. You don't get to do that!"
"That's not enough." Her head dropped to her chest. "I was worried sick," she whispered behind a curtain of hair.
Two strong arms enveloped her. "Everything will be fine, Detective. I'm back and I'm not going anywhere," he breathed in her ear. "Not if I can help it."
Her body pressed to his, she relaxed for the first time in months. Absently, she stroke his back. "Wait! You got your wings back?" she cried, patting the small stubs under his jacket. She took a step back, grasped his arms, searching his darkened eyes for an answer.
He studied her face. "You believe me now?" he said.
"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," she stated.
He nodded. "I do. Maze happened to have kept one feather, unbeknown of me. They had sprouted quite handsomely. Do you want to see them?" he leered.
"Really? The Devil is back for five minutes and he wants to have sex with me?"
"I never said such a thing," he huffed.
"Right. I guess I see you tomorrow Lucifer. And please, knock."
"And miss the opportunity to get a glimpse of that little number you keep in the bathroom? Not a chance, detective."
"Don't push it, Lucifer."