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Never had Lucifer found the Detective more beautiful and beaming than now as she stood and knocked on Hell's door. His eyes were glued on her just as much as his angel wings were on his back (once and for all).
If the way he drank her in like an old whisky had nothing to do with the red color that suited her complexion so well, (and somehow matched the whole fiery mood down here), it had everything to do with the way he could see the years that had punctuated his absence flashing across her untroubled face. It was as if he was holding a remote control and had the chance to be able to fast-forward the whole movie of his sweetheart's life. Somehow, it was one of the privileges coming with the job: seeing in a single glance what the newcomers here below had gone through in their life. And as much as he knew Chloe went through a lot, he had also missed a lot. 40 years to be precise. So he wouldn't leave out on 40 seconds to take in the hold that time had on his beloved. He was going to savor every second of the film which was scrolling before his eyes, showing the Detective in all her former glory; from birth to death.
To anyone on the outside, Chloe just looked like the Detective that Lucifer had known in Los Angeles; a gorgeous (undeniably hot), strong, single-minded woman in her thirties. But to him, she somehow looked like a photo slideshow in speed motion. First, she had a chubby face with a toothless, heartening smile as she was chirping and bubbling nonsense— Baby Chloe. Next , Chloe appeared to him in a teenager, naked form. One that had caused her a lot of teasing coming from Lucifer— Hot tub Highschool. Her face quickly kept distorting and showing some singular moments of her life. Until she suddenly had a swollen, tired face which Lucifer knew came with being pregnant with their little bundle of devil. Then her face morphed into pure joy— their daughter's birth , no doubt. The next face he was allowed to see showed an older, very elegant Chloe, despite the tears of happiness that stained her refined makeup— Trixie's wedding . And so on, many years scrolled before his eyes in a single polymorphic face, changing and aging, until Chloe’s last intake of breath.
Did he already say that he had never found her more beautiful and beaming than she was now, standing in front of him like a gift fallen from Heaven? Thank you, Amenadiel.
Throughout the years, through ups and downs, Chloe had remained as breathtaking as he remembered— even more so…
“Hello, Detective,” Lucifer whispered, his voice barely above the murmur of wandering souls in the hallways of Hell. She did take his breath away.
“I thought you could use a partner,” Chloe said in a low tone.
Hearing the sound of her voice was music to his ears. He knew a lot about music, and none could ever match the intensity, exhilaration, and relief he felt deep down the tip of his feathery wings with that unique one.
Chloe died today. The earth had just been deprived of its most beautiful angel .
Although the question of why she wasn't in heaven was on his lips, Chloe was the fastest to touch said lips before they could ask her the answer— still as efficient as ever , Detective Decker.
Lucifer knew he was currently in session with some patients, yet he didn't waste the opportunity to chase more of her lingering taste. His mouth pressed harder against hers, and underneath the warm touch of his lips, she blossomed like a field of Devil Flowers in the bowels of Hell. And even though these flowers were dark, it felt as if beautiful colors were spreading out of nowhere behind his closed eyelids. The buzzing of the foraging bees and the song of the hummingbirds both echoed in his ears and muffled the cries of broken souls around him. Muffled everything that wasn't her. His free arm sneaked around her waist as the other closed the still-open door of his office; he moved a little to the side and secured both his hands in her lower back, pulling her closer against him— if that was possible.
Some coughing noises behind them eventually brought them back to Earth Hell, forcing him to reluctantly pull apart from Chloe. Glaring at the disruptors, Lucifer remembered that his session wasn’t over yet. Well… it wasn't an issue. It will soon be a matter of the past. Actually, he just snapped his fingers and his patients vanished away— his Hell, his rules. With a second purposeful snap, the room turned into his famous luxury apartment, loads of their memories that had taken place there instantly coming back to the surface.
Chloe looked around in awe as she held onto his shoulders for dear death . Chuckling, she let her forehead gingerly rest against his as he kept her the closer he could. There was no way he let her go ever again. This was their home now.
“So… What do we do now?” Her lips twitched, brushing against his as they curled into a smile.
“We're making up for the time we lost,” said Lucifer as he leaned in and pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“40 years is a lot to catch up.”
“True. I'll need to make love to you 40 times to make up for it.”
“Only 40?” Chloe pouted as she fiddled with Lucifer's shirt collar. “I've known you more upbeat, Lucifer.”
“Goddamnit, no!” His eyes widened as he realized that it was minor coming from him (well not the size, eh… the number…); he could do much better than that. “You're right. I'll make love to you endlessly. And we better start right here, right now!” Immediately, he started wiggling out of his tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned his shirt at a backbreaking speed, before bouncing from one foot to another to get rid of his pants. Unluckily, his left ankle got caught in the fabric, making him jump on one foot as he tried to steady himself… until he lost his balance and tripped forward.
So much enthusiasm and goofiness ended up stirring a deep laugh from Chloe whilst Lucifer laid flat on the floor like a red hot chilli pepper toast that would've just jumped out of the toaster. Laugh best who laughs last. Which meant he intended to make her laugh (and scream of pleasure) until the end of time.
Neverending .
Recoiling with a smirk, he didn't waste time standing back on his feet. He moved fast, aiming at the Detective's leg and swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style straight into the bedroom.
“Welcome home, Detective.”