Chloe stared at Lucifer, numb with shock. "It's all true", she said, the full extend of what that meant sinking in slowly.

She watched as Lucifer slowly lifted a hand to his face, fingertips brushing along burnt skin, his expression turning to one of pure horror. Just as she took a hesitant step forward, he took a step back, breaking eye contact.

He turned around, walking away briskly, and she realized too late that he was going towards the window.

"Lucifer!", she yelled, starting to run towards him, but she had been too shocked, giving him too much of a head start. She watched as he stepped up on the window sill, and, with one last look at her, stepped off.

She reached the window, and looked down, her heart thundering in her chest. He was nowhere to be seen.

Three weeks. She spent three weeks without any sign of life from him. She almost went to Lux, almost called him, almost texted him, dozens of times, but something always held her back. Maybe it was the thought that he must think her an idiot. All the evidence he'd presented her with, all the things he'd done right under her nose, and still she hadn't caught on. She was a detective, for God's sake. How had she not figured this out?

Or maybe it was the thought that he was a divine being. An archangel. What was she to him, really? He was, quite literally, the stuff of legends, immortal, ancient, God knows what, whereas she was just a run of the mill mortal. It really wasn't her place to chase after an archangel, now, was it? Especially not one that clearly didn't want to talk to her.

And then there was also the matter of him being the literal devil. She still had trouble wrapping her head around it. She had an image of what the devil was supposed to be like, and she knew Lucifer, and the two just wouldn't mix, no matter how hard she tried. Lucifer stubbornly remained her friend, her partner, in her mind, refusing to turn into the devil.

And then, one morning, out of the blue, he was back. Just like that. Standing by her desk, holding a cup of coffee and a bag with treats as if nothing had happened. Well, to be fair, she'd had people in interrogation about to go down for life who'd looked less nervous than Lucifer as he stood there. He gave the impression of a spooked animal about to run away any moment. It was completely at odds with his usual demeanor.

She was about a second away from giving him a piece of her mind about his whole vanishing act, after everything that happened, then changed her mind at the last moment. He looked like he was waiting for a scolding, or, rather, a rejection. He looked like somebody who expected to be told to get the hell out of here any moment now. Like he didn't belong. Like he was intruding.

She handed him a case file. "Ready to catch some bad guys?", she asked, forced joviality in her voice. If somebody had asked her what the hell she was doing, she couldn't have told them. It just seemed easier to go back to some semblance of normal and deal with, well, everything another day.

He looked at her with such immense relief as if she'd just let him get away with murder. Well, in relation to Pierce's death, she'd more or less cleared his name. She'd been adament that it had been self-defence, although there were quite a few holes in her story, given the state of the crime scene. It hadn't helped matters that Lucifer was nowhere to be found to give a statement at the time.

"You'll need to give a statement. About what happened." There was a sudden look of panic in his eyes, which he so masterfully hid behind a carefully neutral mask a second later that she wasn't even sure it had been there to begin with. He nodded quickly, as if he couldn't wait to be done with this topic.

"Right, so what's our case?", he asked, opening the file, the same forced merriment in his voice that she'd used earlier.

Things went back to some semblance of normal. For a week, he tagged along to crime scenes, for once making an effort to actually be helpful. Even though, she noted, he didn't once use his ability to draw out somebody's desire. As she thought about it, she realized he didn't refer to himself as the devil a single time during the whole week. No jokes about his father, no references to heaven or hell at all.

He behaved like somebody on probation. As if he were scared that he would make a wrong move and she would send him packing. At least, that's how it seemed to her. He was unusually subdued, and respectful, at crime scenes. And she waited, and thought he would get back to normal if she left him alone, but he didn't.

So, in the end, she tried to talk to him. And was met with a master class in evasion. Every time she tried, he suddenly had to be somewhere else urgently. He started taking his own car to crime scenes, so she wouldn't have a chance to talk to him during the car ride.

In the end, she got so frustrated with him that she told him, flat out, "We're going to have a talk. Right now." She saw that flash of animal panic again, quickly hidden away. "No", he said, sounding scared more than anything else. Then he fled the precinct. There really was no other word for it. She didn't know what to make of it. To be fair, he'd never been one to embrace talking about important stuff, but this was taking things to a completely new level. How did he expect her to go on as if nothing had happened? Without so much as exchanging a single word about it?

The next day, after they'd finally gotten a hold of their suspect, Lucifer walked behind her into the interrogation room, putting on a bright smile. "Did you really think you'd get away-", he stopped short when he realized that the room was empty. Chloe hung back by the door, and closed it behind them. It snapped shut with a certain finality in the silent room. Lucifer turned around, swallowing.

"We're going to talk", Chloe stated in a voice that brook no argument.

Lucifer shook his head vehemently, a pained expression on his features.

"Lucifer", Chloe said, exasperated.

He sighed, and visibly deflated. "Fine. I'm sorry. I'll leave and stop bothering you." He made a move towards the door. She stepped in front of him.

"What? You thought I wanted to talk to you to tell you to leave?"

He furrowed his brow, a look of confusion on his face. "Why else would you want to talk to me?"

Chloe had a sudden epiphany about Lucifer's behaviour in the past weeks. Scratch that, his behaviour in the past years.

"First of all, I don't want you to leave. I meant it when I said you're the best partner I've ever had. I just wish you'd feel comfortable enough to, you know, be yourself again. And secondly, why would I want to talk to you? Hmm, I don't know, let me think, oh right, just because of everything? I mean, you are actually the devil-" She saw him visibly cringe at her mention of the word. "-and you don't think I would want to talk about that? At all?"

"We can still be partners?", he asked, and his honest confusion was somehow adorable yet deeply saddening at the same time.

"Lucifer", she started, taking a step closer to him. He immediately took a step backwards, looking like a cornered animal. Careful, Chloe thought. He is the devil. She found to her surprise that the thought held no terror for her. She was certain he would never hurt her, cornered or not. Still, she stopped moving into his space.

"Of course we can still be partners. Nothing has changed. How I feel about you hasn't changed." That last part slipped out by accident, but as she said it, she was surprised to find that this was true as well. The quite monumental reveal of his true identity had changed nothing about the feeling she got every time she saw him, or the way her heart would sometimes skip a beat when she caught him staring at her as if she were the only thing in the universe worthwhile observing.

"We can still be partners. Nothing has changed", he repeated, sounding like somebody who had just won the lottery and couldn't quite believe it. Then his eyes widened as he considered the last part of her statement. She saw something flicker across his face, but it was gone again too quickly for her to analyze.

"You mean we can still be friends?", he asked, hopeful, and she wondered if he was being thick on purpose or if he really didn't get what she was trying to tell him.

"Yes. We can be partners, we can be friends, we- listen, give me some time to wrap my head around all of this- and maybe we can be something more, someday."

He regarded her as if he couldn't believe a single word he was hearing.

"More?", he repeated, dazedly.

And she realized that he really didn't get it. Didn't even let himself consider the possibility. Well, she could certainly relate to that, couldn't she?

She sighed, moved into his space quickly- this time he remained frozen in place rather than retreating- and kissed him. It was nothing more than a quick peck to his lips, very chaste. She pulled back almost instantly, catching his eye. He just stood there, frozen, staring at her as if she'd grown a second head. Chloe contemplated the strangeness of the situation. How she felt rather calm, whereas he was clearly freaking out. Somehow, she'd have thought their roles would have been reversed.

"Can we talk now, please?", she asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she took in his expression. It was a mix of shock and disbelief, with the barest hint of hope in his eyes.

He nodded, still seeming dazed, as if he were waiting for somebody to wake him up from this dream that couldn't possibly be true.

Fuck it, Chloe thought, and embraced him. He made a soft surprised noise that caused a strange warm feeling in her chest. Other than that, he didn't react for a long time. Just when she decided to pull back, his arms finally came around her, returning the embrace. He exhaled a relieved breath that sounded like he might have been holding it in since the moment she'd seen his face. She held onto him more tightly, willing him to understand through her actions what he hadn't been able to accept from her words. I'm here. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere.