Chapter Text
It started with mistletoe.
Or rather, it started with some fake mistletoe, dangling in front of her partner's not-in-the-slightest bit kissable face as he looked beseechingly at her from across her desk, those brown eyes of his as successful a distraction as the Christmas songs he kept humming under his breath.
Silently, she cursed Doreen at the front desk. As soon as the first day of December hit, the cheery receptionist sprang into action the same way she always did this time of year, decorating every inch of the precinct she could reach with tinsel, garlands, and wreaths. And for those places she couldn't get to without a ladder, she roped a reluctant Lucifer in to help. Once he learned of one Christmas tradition in particular however, his enthusiasm grew exponentially, and it wasn't long before mistletoe hung in abundance throughout the entire bullpen, covering any potential spot a kiss could be stolen.
Something which, naturally, her partner had been taking advantage of ever since. With the exception of herself and Dan, she didn't think there was a single one of her colleagues that he hadn't managed to manoeuvre his way into a kiss with yet. Not that she was jealous of that. She wasn't. Lucifer was just her partner, and an annoying one at that. So annoying in fact, that she'd been forced to memorise each and every mistletoe covered location—or danger zones, as she preferred to call them—in order to save herself from his constant pointed glances at the ceiling, a smirk painted across his face as he towered over her. Navigating her way through the bullpen had started to feel like being stuck in an Indiana Jones movie, each and every step across the floor liable to set off a booby trap at any moment.
But now, thanks to some novelty headwear Doreen had taken upon herself to start handing out that morning, he'd found a way around her avoidance tactics. The Devil had been hot on her heels from the second the headband was secured across his immaculate hair, eyes pleading down at her, a slight pout across his face that only served to make him look even more endearing. Unfortunately for him though, she was well versed in puppy dog eyed tactics, and they had far less of an effect on her when not coming from her eight year old daughter.
"Are you absolutely sure, Detective?" Lucifer purred, as he leaned forward just enough as the mistletoe swayed in her eyeline. "It'll be worth it, I promise. I'm told I'm quite the kisser."
Of that, she had no doubt. The last couple of weeks had been filled with enough dazed looks and heated glances at Lucifer from the other officers around them that it made it impossible to think otherwise. And she couldn't lie to herself; there had been times where she'd fantasised how his soft lips would feel against hers, if their mouths would fit together as perfectly as she imagined they would, their tongues sliding against one another as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
As if they were made for each other.
But the sensible part of her knew what a bad idea it was. And that was the part she always listened to. As soon as she gave an inch, Lucifer would push for the mile, and what was already an endless barrage of innuendoes and promises of sexual prowess would become unbearable. And the worst thing was, if she actually did kiss him, she suspected the temptation to find out if he was as good in bed as he claimed to be would be just as unbearable too. As things were, she could at least pretend he was all talk. Just another playboy surrounded by women who were far too easy to please.
Some lies, she was happy to tell herself.
"How many times, Lucifer," she said with a sigh, as she focused so hard on the paperwork in front of her that she was almost surprised when it didn't burst into flames. "I'm not kissing you at work."
The mistletoe disappeared out of sight as Lucifer sat back in his chair. Unbidden, her eyes followed it to find him grinning at her, while his hands tugged his suit jacket back into place. "So you're saying you'll kiss me outside of work, then?" he asked salaciously, but the leer on his face was dampened by what she could have sworn was a spark of hope in his eyes. "We do have a stake out tonight." His eyebrow lifted pointedly before he shook his head at her a little, the mistletoe waggling from side to side.
He should look ridiculous. The frustrating thing was, he didn't.
Still, it was something she could work with. "You know that thing is messing up your hair, right?" she said, with as serious an expression as she could muster.
His eyes immediately widened with horror, and he had the blasted contraption ripped from his head before she could even blink. The sight forced her to place a hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling. For while she may have told a white lie, it became a prophecy turned true, the band having left a trail of destruction in its wake across Lucifer's perfectly styled tresses. Locks of gelled hair stuck out at awkward angles from his head, and she felt the sudden urge to run her fingers through it, smoothing it back into place.
An urge she resisted, of course.
Lucifer slammed the headband down onto her desk, then glared at it as though it had somehow betrayed him. Dan passed them by as he returned from the break room to his desk, and with one look at Lucifer, he sniggered. "Nice hair, man," he called out, and Lucifer's eyes narrowed in response. Just as she was about to grab his arm though, in anticipation of her partner marching over there and her ex's coffee ending up all over his head, she realised his gaze had turned suspicious, and was firmly focused on her.
Uh oh. Busted.
"You are quite the tease when you want to be, Detective," he said as he stood, his chair rolling backwards as he nudged it with his legs. He slowly walked around the desk until he was behind her, and she couldn't help but swallow nervously as his voice drew closer to her ear, his long, lean body leaning over her. She tried to suppress the shiver she felt dancing along her spine at the warmth of him. "But I think you'll find I'm far better at it."
And then he was gone, along with the comb she kept in her desk drawer. She slowly exhaled as she watched him make his way to the bathroom, undoubtedly headed for a long appointment with one of the mirrors there. From the corner of her eye, she saw Dan watching her, and she cursed the blush she could feel decorating her cheeks. Their separation was still far too fresh for this, and he disliked Lucifer enough as it was. The last thing she needed was the two of them starting some kind of turf war over her. Especially when it was likely neither of them would win.
Not unless something drastically changed, which seemed unlikely.
With a shake of her head at Dan, she went back to her paperwork. Yet again, she needed to come up with an explanation for exactly why their latest suspect had confessed out of the blue, after being left alone in a room with Lucifer for all of thirty seconds while she spoke to the detective observing the interrogation outside. The recording of the interview gave her nothing, and so she was left with no other choice but to conclude the man had allowed his guilty conscience to get the better of him. As so many of the murderers they put behind bars did when faced with her partner.
It was something she tried not to think too hard on. Despite his uncanny ability to drive her up the wall sometimes, she and Lucifer were a team, and an effective one at that. At the end of the day, as long as the right culprit was apprehended, without physical harm—something Lucifer was getting better at refraining from—then who was she to argue? It didn't hurt, of course, that her solve rate had never been so high. It was a fact that couldn't be denied; Lucifer was the best partner she'd ever had.
Not that she'd be telling him that any time soon. The man already had an ego as big as a planet, and she had no intention of adding to it.
She wasn't sure exactly how long it was until the self-proclaimed Devil exited the bathroom; all she knew was that it was far longer than it took her to get ready for work in a morning. Including a shower. Hell, it was probably longer than she spent preparing for a date. Although if she were honest with herself, she might have forgotten the exact amount of time needed for that one, given the fact she hadn't been on anything even resembling a date for years now. After she moved out, it was the last thing on her mind, and before that the rare evenings Dan wasn't at work needed to be spent with Trixie. Which, on reflection, probably hadn't helped when it came to the state of their marriage. But there was very little she could do about that now. The damage was already done.
"I'll be seeing you in a few hours then?" Lucifer said as he returned to her desk, his fingers reaching out to play with her Newton's cradle. She slid it further away from him with practiced ease, and his brow furrowed. "Why do you keep it on your desk if it annoys you so much?" he asked.
It was a fair question, but she wasn't in the mood to answer right now, not with at least four more casefiles to polish off before she headed to what could potentially be an all night stake out with Lucifer, where she'd be stuck in a car that in no way had enough snacks to keep him entertained for the duration.
"I keep you around, don't I?" she said in return, but as always, he took it on the chin, clearly thrilled at having someone who could keep up with him. Despite his claims that the reason for his intrusion into her life was because he found her 'interesting', in reality she was fairly certain he just enjoyed the banter. As did she. Their back and forth was one of the main reasons their partnership worked so well, after all. The yin to her yang, and all that. If she believed in that kind of stuff.
"Touché, Detective," he said, and he couldn't have looked more delighted if he tried. "So, I'll be picking you up around… eight?"
The hand that currently held her pen tightened so hard that for a second, she thought the plastic might snap. "For the last time, Lucifer, we can't do a stake out in your Corvette." At his so-slight-she-almost-missed-it chagrined look, she added, "And besides, LUX is north of here. It makes more sense for me to pick you up on the way."
"Very well," he said with a nod. She waited for the inevitable protest that the seats in his convertible were more comfortable for sitting on for long periods of time, as well as for doing other things, but it never came.
Huh. Perhaps an old Devil can learn new tricks.
"I'll be seeing you and your dilapidated cruiser later then." He took a step towards the stairs, then stopped abruptly. His head turned to the side, and she could just see the corner of his lips curl upwards. "And I look forward to the two of us being outside of work."
Before she could point out that a stake out was still technically work, he strode away, leaving her both confused and exasperated, the latter of which she was more than used to when it came to him. The strange emphasis he'd put on the word outside bothered her though, and her distraction made the task of filling out the forms piled in her inbox even more taxing. He could have been referring to the Corvette again of course, insinuating that one day he would wear her down and they'd end up waiting to catch some criminal in the act while "outside", neglecting the fact they would be totally open to anyone that might be watching them in return.
But then, just as she was about to pack up and leave, one hand reaching for her bag as the other patted down her jeans pocket to check she had enough change for more cool ranch puffs, the abandoned mistletoe on her desk caught her eye. And suddenly, it hit her.
She'd never actually said she wouldn't kiss Lucifer outside of work.
With a groan, she picked up the last of her things and trudged towards the break room, all the while debating if she should ask Dan if he had any change for the vending machine. It might not be the most elegant of solutions to the torture that lay ahead of her, but she wasn't above bribing her partner with snacks if it meant spending the next few hours in peace.
Because one thing was for certain.
Tonight was going to be a long night.
…
"You're quiet," Lucifer said, the incessant tapping on the door handle he'd been engaged in for the last hour grinding to a halt. He wasn't wrong. The constant flow of cars crawling past where they were parked had lulled her into a state of… not sleep, exactly, she was far too professional for that, but certainly a kind of calm she rarely achieved these days. Which was probably the only reason she hadn't snapped Lucifer's hand off by now. At least it was better than the constant teasing about kissing her. Still, she couldn't help but feel strangely grateful for it, both the peace and the distraction, as weird as that might sound. On nights like these, it was sorely needed.
Which, in a roundabout way, meant he was needed too.
They'd been parked in front of their suspect Mike Bradley's house for three hours now, ever since the sun dipped below the horizon. As luck would have it, their suspect lived on one of the many streets in LA that had chosen to decorate their houses in Christmas lights to the extreme, and his property was no exception. Despite his apparent proclivity for murder, it appeared Mike was quite the fan of the North Pole, considering his home resembled something straight out of a winter wonderland. The lights made it easy to keep an eye on the comings and goings to the building, however, therein lay the problem. There were no comings and goings. The place was completely dead, and had been all day, according to the officers they'd taken over from. Still, it would be foolish to give up at this point, which meant the two of them were stuck in a car that seemed to be shrinking by the second.
Back when they first met, she couldn't have imagined that they would one day be here, Lucifer willingly sat beside her for hours as they waited for someone who might not even appear. There were some at the station—Dan, in particular—who remained baffled as to why she continued to work with him, and while she sometimes wondered the same thing herself, it was moments like these that reminded her why. For someone who could be so self-involved, he could also be amazingly observant, especially when it came to her and how she was feeling. If anyone else were sitting in that seat beside her, she doubted they would have picked up on the fact something was wrong. It wasn't exactly unusual for her to want to concentrate on the job, for one thing. But somehow, Lucifer saw past all that.
His eyes had been on her for a while now, ever since he finished the last of the snacks. Snacks that he'd only offered to share with her once in the past few hours, not that she minded. The take-out she'd been forced to pick up on the way here hadn't exactly been appetising, and the last thing she wanted after that was more food. The smell still lingered in the air even now, and she knew it would be weeks until it dissipated fully. There was a reason cop cars had a reputation for bad odours, after all. Even Lucifer refused to go anywhere near it, and there was very little he wouldn't eat, given half the chance. Sometimes it was like a race with him when it came to food, a race Dan often lost, especially when pudding was involved.
It was enough to make her curious as to exactly why Lucifer was like that. While she had no first-hand experience of having a sibling, she knew enough from family dinners with the Espinozas that she could easily picture a younger Lucifer sitting at a table surrounded by his brothers and sisters, each of them fighting for their share of the bounty. It was as good a reason as any other she could think of for his behaviour. Unless, of course, he was the one who always lost the battle, never quite quick enough to grab enough to eat. Which would definitely make sense, given that he never seemed to stop eating. Now that he was an adult, he was merely making up for it.
Yet he never put on weight. Which was unfair, to say the least. The only explanation she had for that was that he must work out like crazy in his spare time. Either that, or it was all the sex. The latter wasn't exactly a workout routine she'd been testing out lately.
Basically, her partner was an enigma, but he was also an enigma that cared about her far more than he was willing to let on. And, she had to admit, the same was true in reverse. Despite all that though, this wasn't something she was sure she wanted to talk about, not right now. Lucifer had a way of getting to the heart of things with his pointed comments and lack of awareness when it came to what was and wasn't appropriate to say. And at the heart of this, was a pain she did everything she could to try to ignore at this time of year.
She could still feel his gaze on her though, his concern radiating across her skin. It made her want to tell him everything, as though his desire mojo had finally started working when it came to her. But the truth was, as she'd once made the mistake of telling him, he made her vulnerable. There was something about this man that made her feel like she could open up, as if he would be the one person in this world outside of her daughter who wouldn't judge her.
And still, she found herself evading. "It's been a long day," she said as she adjusted in her seat, pulling her body a little more upright. Her head angled towards the window, the opposite way from the house they were supposed to be watching, as she searched for any unexpected movement. "And besides, isn't it only worrying if you're the one not talking?"
He chuckled, and the car fell silent again. But as was typical with Lucifer, it didn't last long. "Perhaps I should have said quieter than usual," he mused. She turned to look at him and found his attention focused on the Christmas lights decorating the house across the street, keeping watch even when her mind was elsewhere. "When you're tired, you tend to be… irritable, shall we say, especially with yours truly. But this… this is different."
In the glow of the lights, his profile was even starker than usual, the lines of his face sharp and perfect. Every so often, another car would inch its way past them, and the headlights would illuminate his features just for a second or two. He was beautiful, even she couldn't deny that. Not her type, certainly; she preferred more bulk on a man, someone who could make her feel protected, even though she knew she was strong enough not to need it. But Lucifer was physically strong, far stronger than he should be for his build, and that thrilled her in a way that she kept locked in her darkest fantasies, the ones that only escaped in the dead of night, during dreams where she had no conscious thought to stop them.
These softer moments though, the ones where he let down his walls just enough as she could see flashes of the caring man underneath, they were dangerous. Capable of being her downfall, the tool with which her partner picked at those locks she so carefully put in place. And as much as she was determined not to let that happen, it was nice to have someone on her side, just for once. Someone who, even if he couldn't fully understand, was at least willing to listen.
"It's just all… this, you know?" She gestured at the street surrounding them, at the houses covered from top to bottom with lights in every colour, flashing and twirling as they danced along with the Christmas music blasting from the speakers placed strategically along the road. Families lined the sidewalk, while others were confined to their cars as they slowly drove past, windows wound down, the occasional child poking its head through the sunroof as they ooo'd and ahh'd.
Lucifer nodded in what looked like sympathy. "Ghastly, isn't it?" he said, his distaste clear. "You'd think they could have at least coordinated their displays." She rolled her eyes in the near-dark of the car, but it didn't stop a small smile from emerging on her face regardless.
"It's not that. It just makes me think of Christmas, that's all. And I don't enjoy doing that, not when I don't have to."
He didn't respond at first. When the next car trundled by, she saw his gaze had landed on her now, a frown on his face. "I thought all you humans—those who believe in my Father and a jolly fat man in a red suit, that is—enjoyed this time of year."
As always, she ignored the you humans part of that, more than used to Lucifer thinking he was above the rest of the human race by now. "Not all of us," she said quietly, as though disliking Christmas was some kind of dreadful sin. "The holidays can be very lonely for a lot of people."
Lucifer's frown only deepened. "But not for you," he pointed out, but underneath, there was a question there. "You have the urchin."
She nodded, then let her eyes slip closed, squeezing them together tightly in order to hold back the tears she could feel threatening there. "I do," she said, "but I don't have—"
The sound of a car door slamming up ahead startled both of them, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. The second her heart finished racing, she pushed herself forward in her seat and anxiously checked their suspect's property. "Still no movement, Detective," Lucifer informed her, and she took him at his word. Time and time again he'd proved his eyesight was far better than hers; at some point, she'd just decided to go with it. At the end of the day, he was her consultant, and if his help came in the form of him acting as a human pair of binoculars, so be it.
She settled into her seat again with a weary sigh, and with nothing else to do, her thoughts drifted back to those of her daughter, and the holiday that was fast approaching. Her heart clenched as she finally decided to admit it out loud to someone else for the first time. "I'm not even sure I will have Trixie for Christmas at this rate."
"Why ever not? The little miscreant hasn't run away again, has she?" She heard him take a sharp breath. "Please tell me she's not planning to spend Christmas at Lux."
For the first time that evening, she laughed. "No, Lucifer, my eight year old has no plans to spend Christmas in a nightclub." The passenger seat squeaked a little as Lucifer relaxed back into it, and she didn't need to see him properly to be able to picture the look of relief on his face. "This is the first Christmas since the separation, and it's just taking a little getting used to, that's all. Especially when it comes to juggling work schedules. Dan has her on the 24th, but there was a mix up somewhere with my vacation request, and now it looks like I might have to work on the 25th."
She scrubbed a hand across her forehead in a fruitless attempt to wipe away the headache she could feel forming there. "The irony is, the only reason Dan even has Christmas off is because I made him book it off months ago, back before we split. And now I'll be the one letting Trixie down."
The next thing she knew, there was a hand covering hers in the darkness. "I'm sure everything will sort itself out, Detective," Lucifer said, in a voice far more gentle than she would have expected from him. "After all, the department can't afford to piss off their best Detective now, can they?"
She huffed a laugh, which quickly turned into a sniffle. She hated breaking down like this, especially when she was supposed to be working. She still had no idea how to tell Trixie that she might have to stay with her dad on Christmas day, and she was dreading the inevitable smug look on Dan's face when she told him she had to work. And on top of all that, this was probably the last thing Lucifer was interested in hearing.
Pull yourself together, Decker.
"What will you be doing?" she asked, hoping a change of subject would distract both of them from her woes.
A security light attached to the house closest to them flashed on as an overexcited child dashed towards an inflatable dinosaur wearing a Santa hat, just in time for her to see Lucifer blink owlishly at her from the passenger seat. Then his face split into a wide, almost vicious smile as he pulled his hand away sharply. "What will I, the Devil, be doing on a day dedicated to the birth of my imaginary half-brother, during which even more mortals gather together to worship my Father? Oh, I suppose I'll pop down to church, maybe even take communion. I hear the wine is excellent."
She waited patiently for him to finish his rant, while also making a mental note not to ask him about his plans for any religious event in future. It was easy to forget sometimes just how wrapped up in metaphors he was. His constant references to himself as the Devil had become almost like background noise now; she didn't see him that way, and therefore it didn't seem to matter.
But it did matter to Lucifer, and it was important that she tried to remember that. Perhaps it would be a good idea to read the bible or something, maybe even talk to a priest? Whatever would help her get a handle on what would and wouldn't offend him. Mind you, if he found out she'd done that, she couldn't think of anything that would offend him more. Maybe it would be better just to treat him like she would any other guy with severe daddy issues, and avoid the topic entirely. And if she slipped up? Well, there was an obvious solution to that.
"I'm sorry," she said, and this time it was her turn to reach across the gap between the seats, where her hand squeezed his forearm lightly. "I should have thought."
With a puff of breath, Lucifer shook his head, his mood changing in an instant. "No harm done, Detective. I forget sometimes that for a non-believer such as yourself, Christmas isn't necessarily about dear ol' Dad. Present giving and overindulgence is the name of the game, I'm told? I can certainly get on board with the latter."
That was no surprise; Lucifer was all about overindulgence. It pained her though, to think that this man had no concept of the true meaning of Christmas. A phrase often bandied about, but with different meanings, she'd found. To her though, it was clear. "Christmas is about family, Lucifer."
And that was one of the reasons it hurt so much.
"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that now, would I?" he pointed out, but there was no sarcasm or malice in his words this time. Just a hint of bitterness, with an undercurrent of what she all too clearly recognised as sadness. A secret he would never divulge, not even to her. But it was there, and she knew it intimately. It was the sound of something broken that could never be fixed, not by time nor experience. Some wounds, you had to learn to live with.
In her mind's eye, she saw Lucifer as a teenager, lost and alone, forced to make his own way in the world after being cast out by a nameless father, cruel and unforgiving. Her heart ached for both him, and the man sat beside her. She knew Lucifer would never consider himself alone, as constantly surrounded by people as he was. But from what she'd seen, they all wanted something from him. Favours, sex, their desires made reality. People loved him for what he could do for them, not for who he was.
It was an empty existence that he didn't deserve, because nobody deserved that.
"What don't you have?" Lucifer suddenly asked out of nowhere, jarring her from her thoughts. When she didn't respond, he elaborated, seemingly having picked up on her confusion. "Before. You said you had your offspring, but you didn't have something else. What was it?"
She bristled, unsure now if she wanted to go down that road again. It had been a slip up, an admission she hadn't fully intended to make. After all, this was a secret she had never dared tell anyone, not even Dan. It made her feel wrong somehow, even though she knew that logically, it didn't. She couldn't help but worry about what people would think of her if she told them the truth though.
But this was Lucifer, and if anyone wasn't going to judge, it would be him. Especially considering his views on Christmas. Still, she found she had to look away from him again to even be able to talk about it, trusting that he would continue to keep an eye out for Bradley. Her hand never left his arm though, clinging onto it like some sort of lifeline.
"My dad," she finally said softly. It felt like a confession, although not quite absolution.
"Ah." She heard Lucifer shift in his seat, awkward as ever with 'human emotions'. To his credit though, as he always did with her these days, he still tried his best to understand. "You miss him?"
"Always," she replied. "But this time of year is always more difficult."
"Your dad was the religious sort?"
She laughed for a moment at the idea of her dad going to church on Sundays. He'd been a practical man who believed in what he saw, just like her. The truth was, she got most of her ideals from him. There was right and wrong in this world, but that was down to human values and human choices, not some mystical force governing their fate.
And she certainly didn't believe there was a Devil out there whispering in people's ears. No, he was apparently right beside her, and he was far more likely to tempt her into taking the last donut at the precinct than he was to commit some mortal sin.
"Not in the slightest," she said with a wry smile, and with that, she felt the last of the tension leave Lucifer's body. "But he loved Christmas, more than anyone else I've ever met. Even more than Doreen."
Lucifer chuckled, and the spike of pleasure she felt at that made her realise for the first time, just how much she loved making him laugh. He always seemed so cheery around everyone else, but there was a falseness to it sometimes, a falseness she could see only because around her, his happiness was so often clearly genuine. She wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the way they'd stopped being just partners, and started being friends as well. Something she could have never imagined being with that man she first met all those weeks ago. It made her wonder occasionally what else lay ahead for them both.
Certainly nothing that involved Hell freezing over though, that's for sure.
"For 19 years, we did it all," she continued. "Carol singing, ice skating, the Hollywood Christmas Parade. If there were fairy lights or a piece of tinsel involved, then we were there. I can still remember him arguing with my mom every December over the size of the tree in our living room, and he'd still end up having to cut the top off because he always bought one that was too big."
"Well, bigger is better, I can assure you on that," Lucifer interjected, and she turned her head to glower at him. A second later, he mimed zipping his lips shut, and so she carried on.
"Christmas was his favourite holiday, and so it became mine too. Not because of the presents or the food, but because seeing my dad that happy was the best thing in the entire world."
She stopped talking then, her words caught in her throat, the same pain she always felt lancing her chest at the thought of saying it yet again.
"And then he died."
To his credit, Lucifer, for once, stayed silent. It was almost as if he knew that was what she needed right now, after decades of false platitudes and assurances that her dad was in a better place now. Which, according to her partner, could well be true, but it didn't alter the fact he wasn't here where she needed him. Where he should have been, if not for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"After that, it just… it felt so empty, y'know? All those traditions, all that Christmas magic, it just wasn't the same without him. And mom, she tried so hard to make up for it, but no matter how many parties she threw, or how much money she spent on presents… it didn't work. It just didn't mean anything anymore."
She stared at the lights overhead, and blinked away the tears she could feel forming. "But I could see how much it upset my mom. She missed my dad just as much as I did, and she was just trying to… honour him, I guess? To carry on doing what he would have wanted us to. And I felt so guilty—"
Lucifer's attention snapped to her at that, and in that instant, she was overcome with the need to actually see him. Against her better judgement, she reached up and switched on the small light above the rearview mirror, to find him staring at her in alarm. A small wave of gratefulness washed over her at the thought that he could be so stricken about something as small as a little guilt. He didn't want her to feel bad, and that meant the world.
She took his hand again, silently reassuring him that it was okay. "I started pretending," she said with a shrug, as if that had been the answer, rather than the bandaid it was. "And I never stopped. Dan was big into Christmas too, his family even more so. And then of course, Trixie came along, and you know what children are like."
The blank look Lucifer gave her then reminded her that, actually, no, her partner had no clue what children were like. She'd managed to forget for a few seconds there that it wasn't all that long ago that he was attempting to play fetch with her daughter at age seven. "Christmas is a big deal to a kid," she explained, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Not just because of all the gifts, but because they believe. Santa Claus is just as real to Trixie as me or you."
"Your spawn believes I'm the Devil then?" he asked, with a smile that was all teeth. Considering he'd made his distaste for her daughter plain, there was an odd kind of hope there in his expression, as though it would mean a lot to him to have someone take his claims at face value. She wondered if she should do the same. Would it be a bad thing, playing into his delusions like that? Or the right thing to do as his friend?
Either way, she decided to answer honestly. "She does. But please don't start encouraging her to tell other people. I'm already getting enough strange looks from the other parents as it is, after Trixie went and told everyone in her class that her new best friend is a demon."
From his pleased expression, she gathered Lucifer had stopped listening somewhere around, "She does." After a couple of seconds and a long, deep breath though, she decided it was a problem to deal with another day. "What matters is, Christmas is important to her, and she's important to me. My feelings, they don't matter. I would go to a hundred Santa's grottos, sit through a thousand nativity plays, if it meant seeing her smiling face on Christmas morning."
The look on her partner's face at the mention of a thousand nativity plays was almost comical, and there was a part of her that wished she had her phone in her hand right now to capture it. But what she had in her hand right now was Lucifer's hand, and there was no part of her that wished that wasn't there.
They couldn't stay like this all evening though. The flow of cars had died down now, and most of the houses were turning off their lights for the night. The house they were tasked with surveying remained dark and empty, and she suspected it would stay that way, at least during their shift. But it was still foolish to put themselves on display like this. Reluctantly, she let go of his hand, and switched the light off once more. They both settled back into their seats, and for a moment, she thought the conversation was over.
"The urchin mentioned you came here." Lucifer indicated to the street outside. "The inflatable penguins were her favourite, I recall."
She grinned as she laid her head back against the headrest. Her partner may talk a good game, but when it came to her daughter, he actually paid a lot more attention than anyone seemed to realise. It was probably one of the reasons Trixie liked him so much, despite the nicknames and the way he would freeze as though she were a snake about to strike every time she came near him.
"Not this street exactly; there are neighbourhood displays like this all over the city. Some of them have been doing it for decades. Trixie loves the lights as much as I did when I was a kid, so we try to hit as many as we can on the run up to the big day."
"This was a tradition you also partook in with your father?" Lucifer asked, and she nodded, knowing he'd see her, despite only the faint glow of a street light up ahead left to illuminate the car now. "That must be… difficult."
"Hmm." She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she shuffled her body to the side, until she faced him fully. "I know it shouldn't be this way. I have so many happy memories of my dad, and reliving them, it should make me feel happy, remembering him that way. But it doesn't. It just—"
"It just hurts." Lucifer finished for her, and it shocked her to her core. She knew he wouldn't judge her, but she didn't expect him to understand. Didn't think anyone could understand. Perhaps, underneath it all, they were more similar than either of them thought.
This time, it was Lucifer's time to stare out of the window, as his fingers played restlessly with the silver ring that never left his other hand. It didn't seem like he was going to say anything further at first, but then he closed his eyes and swallowed deeply, visibly steeling himself for what he was about to say.
"Back when I lived in the Silver City…" he started, and she froze. He so rarely talked about his past, not before being kicked out of his home, anyway. She found herself leaning imperceptibly forward, eager to hear more.
"My siblings and I, we would often sing together, when we weren't busy with our work. Mostly songs in praise of our Father, of course"—she flinched in horror, appalled by the very notion that a parent could expect that of their child—"but from time to time we wavered."
The smallest of smiles graced his face, only to immediately disappear again as quickly as it came, as he schooled his expression into something blank and devoid of feeling.
"What did you like to sing?" she asked delicately, not wanting to break the spell that seemed to have fallen over them both.
He scoffed a little at that, but she quickly realised it wasn't aimed at her. "We weren't particularly allowed to like anything"—she winced again—"but on the rare occasion I was able to persuade my brothers and sisters… I favoured songs about the stars. For obvious reasons."
Whatever those reasons were, they weren't obvious to her. But the opportunity to ask was stolen when Lucifer rolled towards her, mirroring her position. "Not one word of those songs has passed my lips since the day I fell."
There was such pain in those endlessly dark eyes of his, and for the first time, she could almost believe he was who he said he was. She could only describe that depth of hurt as ancient, and it made her want to gather him into her arms and never let go. To prove to him that not everyone would abandon him, that he was wanted, that he could be loved. That he could be loved by—
The radio suddenly cackled, and it was as though the sound became electric, the shock of it snapping them back to the reality of where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. They both turned simultaneously away from each other, and her heart raced at how close she'd come to… to doing something she knew she would regret.
"Chlo? You there?"
Dan's voice came through the receiver, fracturing what was left of their moment. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and it took a few seconds for her to realise she hadn't answered. Lucifer's hand appeared in her field of view, the radio held within. She took it from him gratefully, while trying her hardest to ignore the spark of something she didn't want to put a name to as their fingers brushed.
"Yes, we're here," she said, a not-so-subtle reminder that she wasn't working alone anymore. She caught Lucifer's pleased smile out of the corner of her eye, and returned it with a small nod.
At first, there was no response, and then the speaker cackled again. "A patrol picked up your suspect coming out of a liquor store on 5th."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, this night was over. "Thanks, Dan. We'll see you at the precinct tomorrow then." There was no way she was headed back there tonight. Bradley could sweat it out in the cells for a bit.
"Got it. Oh, and hey, say goodnight to Trixie for me will ya?"
After confirming that she would, she signed off. If there was one thing she and Dan were still on the same wavelength on, it was their daughter. They both knew that she would still be awake when Chloe arrived home; she'd been that way ever since she was old enough to understand how dangerous police work could be, despite them doing their best to shield her from it. A babysitter who could actually get Trixie to go to sleep on the nights she was busy working had proved impossible to find. Eventually, there had been no other option other than to just roll with it, despite the twinges of guilt at how tired her little girl was the next day.
"Home then, Detective?" Lucifer asked, already in the middle of putting his seatbelt on. She nodded, thoughts of her nice warm bed already seeping into her bones. But then she remembered she still needed to drop Lucifer off at Lux. It wasn't too far out of her way in terms of distance, but the traffic always seemed to be bad in that area of the city no matter what time of day it was. It would add a good 30 minutes to her journey, at least.
Either Lucifer must have caught her grimace, or he'd finally become the mind reader he claimed he wasn't, because all of a sudden, he paused, the buckle of the seat belt hovering over where it had just been about to slide home. "Or I could call an Uber, of course," he offered, and for an instant, hope flared with. But she squashed it down. He was her partner, and she wasn't about to just leave him on the side of the road.
Again, Lucifer must have seen something in her expression though. "Besides, I have an important phone call to make anyway," he added, as he let the seat belt retract back into place, and began to dig inside his suit jacket for his phone.
It was obvious he was just trying to make her feel better. He didn't lie, but any phone call could be considered important, really. Lucifer would probably consider a call to the vending machine company to make sure their supply of his favourite snacks was refilled by tomorrow morning to be of the utmost importance. Not that they would be open this time of night, but who knows, with Lucifer. People seemed to want to bend over backwards for him when he wanted them to. Figuratively and probably also literally, considering the man seemed to think he invented the kama sutra.
"Honestly, it's fine," she protested as she started the engine. But he was already halfway out of the door. She lowered the window, determined to talk him out of it, only for him to duck down and turn his phone screen towards her, showing the Uber already on its way.
"It's done, Detective," he said, a little too triumphantly for her taste. "And I believe," he added, his voice softer now, "you have a child to get home to."
Her heart warmed at the fact he'd even considered Trixie. She marvelled at his ability to constantly surprise her when it came to things like this. Finally, she gave in. "I'll see you at the station tomorrow then?"
"Bright and early, I assure you," he replied with a cocky grin, which she took to mean he would be there at his usual time of around midday, several hours after her arrival. "Oh, and Detective?" he said, as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. "If I may make a suggestion?"
As if she could stop him talking even if she wanted to.
When she didn't dissuade him, he nodded, mainly to himself, it seemed. "If these Christmas traditions of yours pain you so, perhaps you could open yourself up to experiencing new ones?"
"That's… not a bad idea, actually," she replied, and Lucifer gave her a pleased smile in return.
"Always glad to be of assistance. Until tomorrow, then?"
She nodded as she prepared to pull away. "Until tomorrow. Goodnight, Lucifer."
"Goodnight, Detective."
And with that, she drove off into the night.
…
By the time Lucifer appeared the next day, Chloe was in a stellar mood. She'd logged on that morning to find an email from the Captain, informing her that the mistake with her paperwork had been rectified, and that not only was she free for Christmas Day, but the next day too. And then, on top of that, he apologised.
An apology, from the Captain. She never thought she'd live to see the day.
She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, and so she quickly replied with a thank you before he could change his mind. The lieutenant gave her somewhat of a dirty look as she passed—probably something to do with the matter being dealt with above her head—but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not when she could already see Trixie's delight at the prospect of getting not one, but two days in a row with her mommy.
"Someone's happy," Lucifer said when he reached her desk, after stopping to greet several people on his way from the stairs. He dropped into his chair far more gracefully than should have been possible, then raised his feet from the floor, enough to allow him to spin around on his seat. She wasn't the only one in a good mood, it seemed.
Before she could tell him the good news though, he spoke again. "Making plans for Christmas Day with the urchin already, are we?"
Her mouth hung open as she took in what her partner had just said. There was no way he could have known already, not unless he'd spoken to the captain, and that…
It hit her like a smack to the face. That was exactly what had happened.
"I have an important phone call to make," he'd told her last night. And now, she knew who to.
Lucifer had yet to notice her silence, distracted, it seemed, by the mistletoe headband that hadn't moved since he discarded it on her desk. After glaring at it for several seconds, he swiftly plucked it from where it lay and swiftly dropped it into the bin.
She didn't care though. All she could think about was what he'd done for her, and for Trixie. And although it probably meant calling in one of his favours, something she generally disapproved of, this time, she couldn't fault him for doing it. Not when, as far as she was concerned, the Devil had basically just saved Christmas.
Before she could think on it any further, and despite her normal rules on what was and wasn't professional in the workplace, she rose from her chair and rounded the desk. Lucifer stood at the same time, no doubt expecting her to head into the interrogation room, rather than stay here and discuss her personal life.
But what he obviously wasn't expecting though, was for her to throw her arms around him. He went rigid in her embrace, just like he always did when she showed him any sort of affection. After a beat or two though, she felt his hand pat her back, a silent signal that she should probably let him go. Which she did, but only after she whispered, "Thank you, Lucifer," into his ear as she went.
He chuckled, but there was a kind of nervousness to it that she didn't quite understand. Perhaps he would have preferred for his good deed to go unacknowledged? That didn't exactly sound like him, but then there was that donation to the Dunlear foundation that she had been so sure was him…
"Whatever for, Detective?" Lucifer said then, as he adjusted his cuffs and straightened his jacket. Woe betide that something as inconvenient as a hug might mess up his suit. "I haven't even given you anything yet."
Little did he know, he'd actually given her the world. But she could see how uncomfortable he was right now, and so she chose not to elaborate on it, and instead chose to go with, "Oh, you know. Just for being you."
He brightened immediately. "Well yes, I suppose that is something to be thankful for."
She laughed, and he gestured towards where their suspect was waiting with a sweeping bow. "Shall we?" he asked, and she nodded before turning back to her desk to retrieve the necessary file for the interrogation. It was only then that it occurred to her that Lucifer had said he hadn't given her anything yet. Unfortunately, she couldn't ask him what he meant though, given that he was already holding the interrogation room door open.
In the end, she decided to leave it all together. After all, Lucifer only wanted to give her a Christmas present.
How bad could it be?