A/N: Small side note…. Apparently, in my (very outdated and/or misinformed) head-canon, Lux has some windows… somewhere. Not that there's any great plot significance in that deviation.

Anyway, carry on.

Chapter 6: Detective's Decision and Devil's Desire

For the first time since Hurricane Decker had made landfall, there was peace. Of a sort.

The fallout was… well, not devastating, but certainly immense in its own right. Startling in its immutable clarity. Swaddling the room like a starless night sky and rendering its victims blind, grappling for purchase. Even Emily Post would have trouble steering this ship out of the danger zone.

"So." The missive trembled across the void, a mere breath away. "That got intense. Truce?"

Air fled lungs like a caged beast breaking free. Like a spell broken. "Best idea you've had all evening, Detective."

She followed it up with one even better, and Lucifer wasted no time rejoining her at the bar.

Casting a sidelong glance, he found his memory ensnared by déjà vu. How long ago it seemed that they had sat exactly so, riddling over the intricacies of their connection during that first case, casting a spotlight on truths barely excavated, completely unaware how the dominos would fall and circle right back to the beginning. Not much had changed since that fateful day; and yet, everything had.

Without warning, a spotlight lit them up in earnest.

Sunlight.

Of course.

The silent intruder breached his hallow halls with all the subtlety of cannon fire, shadows yielding to pinks and whites and golds. The timing was so serendipitous it could only be his Father's twisted sense of humor at play, yet again. The implication, however, was without dispute.

Lucifer could feel it; knew his companion could likewise, a halo of fresh dawn framing those perceptive features. Their evening of candor had all but run its course.

"Not to make this the shortest ceasefire in history, but indulge my curiosity one last time." The detective perked, turning. "Are you going to miss your blissfully ignorant view of the cosmos? Starting to wish you'd taken the blue pill instead?"

"My worldview was already complicated without your help. Though you definitely add a certain… something."

"Well," he marveled, watching a smile overtake her pensive countenance. "It's about time my influence got a proper reaction from you. I think this calls for a parade, but I'll settle for a toast. You?"

"I think I'm done adding alcohol to this particular equation. It's funny," she continued. "I actually do feel better just knowing I'm not crazy and you're not just some nut-job who thinks he's the devil."

"As opposed to the real deal? My, you are a fascinating creature."

Watching her laugh, something ballooned inside his chest. A momentary balm, borrowing time already spent.

Outside, the sun slowly continued its ascent until Lux well lived up to its name.

"Now what?"

"You mean where do we go following our little heart to heart?" he translated. "I suppose that would depend on what meaning this evening has had for you."

"What about you?" she asked instead. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Your mind is, as ever, an enigma." Surrender that lacked its bitter aftertaste.

Because something was fundamentally different. Lacking. Lighter. Better, definitely better.

The vexation, the unflagging cynicism, the blind ambition for a scandalous snapshot to out-scavenge the most ravenous of paparazzo vultures…. Gone. Relegated to the deepest pit of hell. Along with all else he'd purged from his identity.

Whatever was responsible, that freedom was a drug.

"Hold out your hand."

The detective stared at him, unmoving. "Why?"

"Because I thought it would be an excellent opener for a cheap line culminating in a night of torrid passion." Proudly Lucifer noted her improvement at masking irritation. That, or it was absent entirely. "A little trust, please," he said seriously. "I'm answering your question. Free of charge, I might add."

"It's something G-rated, right?" But she offered her hand, regardless.

"Well, I wouldn't go giving it to the Pope, but yes. Safe for our purposes. What I want—" He fished around his pocket. "—is for you to hold onto this for me."

With nary a flourish, Lucifer produced his intricately carved, albeit unremarkable coin. A remnant of an unremarkable former life.

Then, like Pinocchio severing idle strings, he dropped it into her waiting palm.

Instantaneous relief.

Warmth attacked his fingertips, spiderwebbed through his hands, his limbs, awakening parts he hadn't even known were numb. He greeted the feeling like an old friend.

Thrill.

"I'll be very cross if you lose that," though the warning was only half-sincere. "So don't go selling it on eBay, understand?"

"What is it?"

"My Pentecostal coin. Very old, very rare, extremely valuable… for certain clientele." In her case, a trinket, nothing more.

Still dubious, the detective turned the coin over and over between curious fingers, hunting for clues.

"I know it's not as flashy as a friendship bracelet, but consider it a token of our enduring, mutual affection. A consummation of sorts. Between partners."

That snapped her hand shut like a vise. "Now wait a second—"

But by now Lucifer recognized the difference between a proper refusal and a thinly veiled attempt at reinforcing old boundaries. And he wasn't about to let her off the hook. Period.

"Don't pretend like you didn't know where this was headed. You're not that good an actress." The corners of his mouth relaxed. "Face it, Detective. You've got a devil on your shoulder. For better or worse."

"My money's definitely on the latter." She exhaled deeply. Then sealed her fate. "But yeah. Okay."

"That's it? No tirade, no stomping your feet?"

"Thing is," she said, almost defensively, "when you're not driving me up a wall, we actually make a pretty good team. You have my back. You get the job done. And I might question your methods sometimes, but not your motives. Not anymore. I can work with that."

Lucifer blinked at her. "Well, Detective. I'm impressed."

"Seriously, though," she went on, and he just knew the other shoe was about to drop. "What are you getting out of this… partnership, anyway?"

"Hard for you to say, wasn't it?"

"Don't tell me it's because you're bored," she stuck to her guns. "I know there's more to it than that."

"You're not wrong." Beyond that, he had nothing substantial to offer. And not because he was freed from the obligation.

"Some things, however," he found himself saying, "are mysteries even to immortal ol' me."

He saw in her eyes a world of understanding that far belied her short years.

Until her fingers unfurled again, revealing his golden gift like a cracked treasure chest. "At least tell me what this really is. I won't laugh," she teased.

"No, you wouldn't," he agreed, but his tone was a foil of hers. "Perhaps one day, I might be inclined to give up that state secret."

"'One day?' Have you run out of guts to spill?"

"I won't deny you made a good case before, Detective, but this isn't about fear. It's about faith."

"Mine or yours?"

He almost smiled. "Call it a mutual investment."

But the longer he lingered on that inimitable bit of currency, Lucifer couldn't help but wonder at its true value. At his wager's bargaining power. For a daring moment, he allowed himself to dream a litany of impossible dreams.

Trust without fear. Kinship without deceit. Hope without strings. He couldn't phrase it beyond mere vagaries and pretty prose, but whatever he sought, he was pretty damn sure where he would find it.

At that, another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Had he really been so foolish as to assume that one mortal's allure was as simple as her uncanny resistance to his charms? Irrefutable proof was in her hand. That dull scrap of metal might as well have been a mirror.

Getting the devil himself to own his desires—that was the true power of Chloe Decker.

Returning to the present, Lucifer found that she wasn't looking at him anymore. He followed her eye line beyond the transient walls of their refuge.

"Sun's up," she announced, unnecessarily. "Work starts in a couple hours."

He took the cue, standing at the same time she did. "Be seeing you soon, then."

"Right."

And then, rather unceremoniously, she was walking out of his club.

Not out of his life.

Rome wasn't built in a day—or a night, as the case may be. Undoubtedly a masterpiece such as the one they were crafting encompassed the artistry of well over a dozen Coliseums. And now that time was no longer their enemy….

Let the real games begin.

At the threshold, the detective hesitated. Pivoted. Called back one last time. "Don't think I'll forget, Lucifer." A flash of sunlight as she flaunted his coin like a prize. A trophy shared by two victors. "I'm holding you to that answer. One day."

"Oh yes, I know." He smiled at his partner, just as brightly. "Quid pro quo."

~ * Fin * ~

A/N: That's all, folks! A year and many rough patches later, I can finally mark this story complete. Thanks for reading!