Hello, my hellish Readers! ;)

This is my first Lucifer Fic and I hope that you like it!

Let me know what you think.

Love,

FantasyWriterFoSho

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DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS. THEY BELONG TO THE LUCIFER SHOW/COMICS.

I DO, HOWEVER, OWN SOME OF THE SMALL THINGS, LIKE THE PLOT-LINE OR THE INSPIRED THEORIES/DESIGNS THAT I PERSONALLY INCORPORATED IN HERE :)

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Chapter One: Resolve

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After six months of working on various cases, of doing some consulting-slash-detective work and—his personal favorite—of punishing those who deserved it, he knew that there was something wrong with him. Something fundamentally and distinctly wrong with him.

It all began with the little things she did: her constant eye rolling at his sardonic remarks; her brushing back her beautiful, golden brown hair behind an ear; the way she carried herself with both victims and perpetrators alike; her witty banter...but then it all grew into something more. Sure, he still wanted her to warm his bed and for her to enjoy the many delights he was sure that he could offer her but, for awhile now, he wanted something more meaningful to occur between them. He started craving for her attention, for her to notice him in the same way that he was noticing her, but it didn't appear to be doing the trick. He didn't seem to be affecting her, or changing her, at all, which not only frustrated him but...it bloody hurt him to the core.

Granted, he was new to the whole mortal concept of courting...Normally, he didn't have to think twice, or work hard, where women were concerned, but she was different. She had always been different.

She was his personal mystery—one that he was completely willing to solve for one important reason...

He was in love with her.

He was hopelessly, profoundly and painfully in love with Detective Chloe Decker and he wanted to show her how much she meant to him, but he didn't know how.

All he knew was that she made him feel brand new and that's exactly what he's wanted since the day he emerged from his hellish prison. Chloe, he decided, was his second chance at...at living again, which was something he hasn't done for a long, long time. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he's been more than lonely for the past five years—not to mention the countless eons beforehand—which was something he realized in his now platonic relationship with his therapist. After accepting who he was growing into, all the real feelings and earthy emotions immediately began to bubble to life inside of him, especially the one's that concerned Chloe, but if there was one thing that he had learned during his sessions was that the important things, the true important things, were always worth the wait and the risk.

So, as he starred at himself in the mirror, his dark eyes softly gliding over his reflected features, he swallowed hard. The pit of his stomach was in knots and as he fussed around with his shirt collar, desperately trying to look his best—which wasn't difficult for him to do—he tried to think of the best way to finally confess his feelings to his beautiful detective.

"I've never lied to her," he whispered to himself, slightly tilting his head over to one side. "So, why start now?"

He was about to exit the bathroom when he received an urgent text message from the source of his inner conflictions. Picking up his cellphone, that had been resting comfortably on a corner section of his sink, he clicked on the screen and unlocked the message, his heart fluttering at the mere read of her name and her style of writing. She wanted him to meet her at an abandoned warehouse, as quickly as he could, so he could help with a violent, triple homicide.

Wincing at the details and the location, Lucifer quickly left his penthouse. Already he could feel the need to impress her building strongly inside of him and what better way to do that than to help solve this new case?

Exhaling to calm his flaring nerves, he made his way through Lux's main floor, towards the entrance, his gaze so focused on where he was going that he didn't even notice the quiet, brooding figure of Maze, who was cleaning some empty glasses at the bar.

She just watched, with an empty expression, as he deserted her and the club for the millionth time. Eyes narrowing before they flashed dangerously, she thought of the particular reason for his continuous abandonment or, more accurately, the source of all of her problems: the mortal detective, Chloe Decker...

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