Quid Pro Quo, Detective

Summary: "Are you sure, Detective? We're already down the rabbit hole, yes, but there's still opportunity to climb out before you hit bottom. There aren't many who behold the true face of the devil and smile about it after."/ In which Lucifer and Chloe attempt to solve the mystery of each other. Post-1x02.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Lucifer :(

A/N: I was absolutely blown away by the response to my first Lucifer fic, so the pressure was on to get this one right. Especially because I decided to do Lucifer POV this time around. Keeping my fingers crossed that I'm doing him justice…

Chapter 1: Thin Ice and Serious Heat

Leaning against the bar, tumbler in hand, Lucifer smiled. He could sense the change at once, the rousing prickle of anticipation. Lux swarmed with the usual crowd of human miscreants and thrill-seekers and still he would have picked her out easily. Even if she hadn't completely abandoned her penchant for skulking about in dark corners.

"Evening, Detective," he tossed over his shoulder.

"What the hell did you do to Jimmy Barnes?"

As far as greetings went, he felt she could have aimed a bit higher.

"That maggot? Nothing he didn't deserve." He kept his tone as indifferent as hers was insistent, if only because he knew how it would rankle her. "But I believe we've had this little exchange before. Though perhaps you were too doped up on morphine to remember."

"No." He heard boots clomping closer. "No more deflecting, no more cryptic remarks. I want straight answers this time, Lucifer."

"Now I know we've had this conversation." He downed what remained of his drink before swiveling to welcome his guest. Were it not for the sling on her arm, no one would know she had been in a recent, nearly fatal shootout. She stood tall, eyes sparking like flint against steel, boasting all the authority her little badge granted her. "Actually, Detective, what you want are rationalizations. A way to explain away the truth. Sorry, my dear, but I happen to be a huge fan of candor, fidelity, and the like. Got the motivational poster on my wall and everything."

"Lucifer—"

"You've seen something, haven't you?" So had he: her certainty fracturing beneath the bold exterior. "Poor Jimmy not adjusting well to life in the loony bin, is he? Straitjackets and padded cells not his forte? Oh, don't tell me he went and found religion. Leave it to the boring, rank-and-file villains to be so depressingly cliché."

The detective was close enough that, even over the booming bass of the nightclub's atmosphere, her low rebuttal was perfectly audible. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He didn't deny it. "And you feel sorry for the maggot, is that it?"

"Jimmy's a killer and a slimeball, but he was sane. Now he's… a mess. Completely unhinged. That doesn't just happen. You did something to him while I was passed out. I know you did."

"Alright, I confess—I did it." He held his wrists up, submitting to her mercy. Not that handcuffs worked. Not the kind used in law enforcement, anyway.

When all he got in return was a deepening scowl, Lucifer redirected the gesture, making a grand, sweeping motion at the surrounding den of iniquity. "Do you need it in writing, Detective, or will all these fine witnesses suffice?"

Something in her face changed. Something maddeningly obscured by strobe lights dancing across her features. A mild softening of sorts—though he could no sooner account for the cause than he could for the reason why this vexing woman so eluded his grasp in the first place.

Then her eyes fell and left him utterly blind. When they lifted, ensnaring his again, they were blazing. Full of raw, unmitigated passion.

Marvelous.

"You know what your problem is, Lucifer?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be in therapy, now would I?"

She ignored that. "You're so damn arrogant that you think you're not going to get caught."

"On the contrary. I keep waiting for you to make good on that bit. Don't blame me because you're a bit slow."

She inched forward, chin lifting to meet his towering height. "I've been dealing with men like you my entire career—"

"There are no men like me," he was quick to point out.

"—and I will figure out the truth. I will figure out who you really are and what you did. And then I'll throw your ass in jail."

"Well, that would be a terrible waste of the taxpayers' money." His attention returning to the bar, Lucifer made to pour himself another drink, mildly deflated at the onset of yet another recycled conversation. With two closed cases under their belts, he rather hoped they had progressed past trust issues and idle, petty threats.

Nonetheless, he raised his glass in her direction. "But I look forward to watching you try, Detective."

Without another word she turned and fled the scene, bothered but undefeated. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the abrupt surrender, however temporary.

Which prompted one final shot. "Be sure to convey my regards to the maggot next time you visit, will you?"

The detective didn't break stride as she wove through the thick, writhing crowd. Lucifer couldn't be sure she'd heard, but of one thing he was absolutely certain. She would be back.

He just didn't expect it quite so soon.

Long after the last of the club's patrons trickled through the exit, rounding out yet another evening of deviance and debauchery, Lucifer found himself still at the bar. The smile he'd worn hours ago had long since faded. He didn't care to dwell on the reason why.

Fate, however, had other plans.

Behind the bar, Maze made a show of tidying her station. Despite the fact that it was left in pristine condition when the last of his staff departed, he knew his companion well. It was a transparent attempt to displace frustration, to keep from speaking her mind. Not that she channeled much effort into the farce.

"How long are you going to keep entertaining your human pet?" she asked, point-blank.

"As long as I please." Lucifer's gaze was sharp when he looked at her. "And like Lux, this subject is closed."

"What do you think is going to come of it?" she persisted. "Even if you manage to discover whatever pathetic secrets lie in that fragile human heart of hers, what then? You'll use them to bond over your own growing feelings of humanity? And what will she think when she wises up to who you really are?"

His glass protested under a punishing grip. "Thin ice, Maze."

"I'm worried."

Spoken in a different voice altogether, the confession dispelled a fraction of his irritation. Lucifer found himself giving her words far more attention than they deserved.

"You are changing and not for the better. I look at you and I barely recognize the man I followed through the gates of hell. The man who burned wicked souls to ash without hesitation because it's what he did and it's what they deserved. Remember who you are," she urged, "and forget this idle distraction. Or I swear she'll be your ruin."

Before he could fire back, Maze muttered "incoming" with sudden rancor, already making herself scarce.

A second later Lucifer knew why.

Boots marching across the empty dancefloor trumpeted the new arrival like a pre-battle fanfare, and déjà vu aside, Lucifer would have recognized that resolute gait anywhere.

"Bit of a late night for you, isn't it, Detective? That eager to pick up where we left—" His voice cut out when he turned around.

Because he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Well, that was a twist.

Against all odds, Lucifer found himself appreciating her uncharacteristic flair for the dramatic. The sheer absurdity of their circumstance was a delight he hadn't seen the equal of in ages. "Like to just skip the foreplay altogether, do you? Straight to the main event? Respect." More sincerely, he nodded at the gun. "You know that won't work on me."

She cocked it as though accepting a dare. "Only one way to find out for sure."

Lucifer's gaze never wavered, far less interested in the weapon than its wielder. "Now what could I have possibly done in these last few hours to incur such ire?"

"I'm sure I could come up with something," she said flatly. "But really it's just that if I'm going to commit a felony, I don't want a room full of witnesses."

"An audience not your particular kink, is that it? Speaking of which…" His voice rose as he addressed the figure lurking out of sight, but whom he knew hadn't missed a thing. "Maze, take a walk."

To his surprise, his subordinate obeyed without argument, though her scoff hid not one ounce of her disdain. No doubt he would get another earful later.

Then, to the woman packing some serious heat, Lucifer offered his most winning smile. "Very well, then. We're alone, and the floor's all yours. So what can I do for you this time, Detective?"

"You can hold still."

And then she pulled the trigger.

A/N: So yeah. Chloe certainly brings new meaning to the phrase 'shoot first, ask questions later,' doesn't she? If you've seen the 1x04 promo, then you know that's nothing new. Not sure if I'm more pleased that I totally called that plot point, or a little put out that I didn't crank this chapter out before it aired. I had it mostly finished, but not quite. And of course the new episode was a bit distracting…. Eh, whatever. There's more where this came from, probably around 3-5 chapters total, so let's just settle in and enjoy the ride!