Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

That night she wakes to the sound of her name.

Darkness blankets the bedroom and the world beyond their window is silent. The stillness of the night is disrupted only by distressed, desperate cries that her sleep-addled brain struggles to make sense of.

Forcibly pulling herself from her otherwise restful slumber, she sits up and reaches out, fumbling in the dark to find the light switch of the bedside lamp.

It’s then that she notices the thrashing. Tiny tremors shake the bed as he tosses and turns beside her.

At first she worries that something must be wrong— that they must be in danger— but then she flicks the lamp on and, after her eyes adjust to the blinding light, she sees that everything is fine.

Everything apart from Lucifer.

He’s asleep. His eyes are squeezed tightly closed and his hands cling to the comforter like a lifeline, the soft material balled up in his fists as he struggles against some unseen enemy. Sweat drips down his forehead, soaking his pillow and causing his damp hair to stick to his forehead.

“Lucifer,” she says softly, wanting to hold him but keeping her distance for now, lest she startle him. His muscles are coiled and ready to fight, his jaw tense, and his face screwed up. She doesn’t want to scare him anymore than he clearly already is.

More moans tumble from his lips. “No, no, no. Please. No.”

At the end of the bed, Raffi’s ears twitch at the noise and he cracks an eye open to see what the commotion is about.

“Lucifer,” she tries again, “You’re having a bad dream. Wake up.”

More thrashing follows. “Chloe. No. Please.”

Raffi stands up and stretches lethargically before padding across the bedding and plonking himself down besides Lucifer. “Meowrr?” he tries, but the noise does nothing to rouse him either.

Finally, she decides to gently touch his arm. His skin is slick and sticky beneath her fingers as she gives his bicep a light squeeze. “Lucifer, wake up!”

His body jerks suddenly then, a gasp escaping him as his eyes snap open and wildly search his surroundings for a moment as he struggles to process where he is.

“Lucifer,” she says softly as his ragged breathing slowly calms. “Hey, you’re okay.”

His gaze flickers to her then, latching on with wide eyes. Fear swirls in the dark brown depths as he looks at her, his body still paralyzed by whatever images his subconscious mind had conjured. “I…” he tries, but his voice is strained, and the sound comes out small and strangled.

She opens her arms to him, and he collapses into her, burying his head in the crook of her neck, his damp hair tickling her skin.

“Chloe,” he mumbles against her, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tight— desperately clinging on like his life depends on it.

“It’s okay,” she whispers in his ear soothingly, holding his body against her, cradling his head in her hand. “You’re okay.”

He shivers as she holds him, goosebumps forming on his perfect planes of skin as she runs her hands up and down his back, offering what comfort and warmth she can. His sweat soaks into her shirt where his head rests on her shoulder, prickling her skin but she doesn’t say anything. She simply holds him as he sheds silent tears, listening to the sound of his breaths and the steady beat of his heart.

“Meowr?” Raffi stands up after a few long minutes of watching and she hears the small plodding of footsteps crinkling the comforter as he walks over it before feeling his soft fur against her bare skin. He brushes his body against hers before moving to Lucifer, pushing his tiny feline face against his side repeatedly.

At first, Lucifer ignores him, but Raffi persists, continuing to rub against him until what she can only describe a giggle erupts from his lips, his body vibrating against hers with the sound.

“That tickles,” he grumbles as he pulls away from her slightly, keeping one arm wrapped around her but wiping the wet away from cheeks with the other. His eyes are watery and red rimmed, a sadness lurking deep within, but the glare he throws at Raffi is more playful than anything else. “Stop it,” he says, his tone lacking its usual authoritative push.

“Meowr?” Raffi says again, still pushing the length of his small body against Lucifer.

Lucifer sighs, throwing a wary glance towards Chloe before looking back to the cat. “Fine,” he replies, sinking back to rest against the headboard, moving his arm from around her body to take her hand in his own.

Raffi trills happily, joy filling his delicate features as he trots onto Lucifer’s lap and walks around in two neat circles before sitting down and curling into a little ball with his head resting on his front paw.

Lucifer looks hesitantly at the creature in his lap and then, after a moment of indecision, sinks the fingers of his free hand into Raffi’s plush, puffy coat. His fingers work restlessly for a few minutes before finally sinking into a repetitive rhythm scratching up and down Raffi’s back.

He says nothing, just stares blankly ahead of him, one hand in hers and one on Raffi, working away. The only sounds that penetrate the silence are his still shaking breaths and Raffi’s purring. It seems that Raffi had been right, stroking his fur does seem to calm Lucifer, much more than she thought it would.

As she watches him calm she realises that her own heart had been racing too, and now that it is slowing the weight of her tiredness pulls on her. She can’t go back to sleep though. Not now, not when he still needs her, because if the way he grips her hand is anything to go by, he does still need her.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, not wanting to startle him.

His gaze remains fixed ahead of him, burning a hole in the bedroom door. He hums in response, but doesn’t look at her.

It’s not a straightforward yes, which, with him, usually means no. She squeezes his hand a little harder, shifting to move closer to him, and lifts her free hand to drag her fingers along the side of his face, causing them to rasp against his stubble.

“You were saying my name,” she says softly, not really asking him a question, but offering him a chance to talk if he wants to. With the frequency that he seems to be having bad dreams, she really does think it might be good for him to talk about them, but she can’t force him to if he doesn’t want to. It has to be up to him.

He looks at her out of the corner of his vision, as if he doesn’t dare to face her fully. “Was I?”

She hums an affirmative, nodding slowly, pulling herself slightly closer to him so that she can work her fingers into his still damp hair.

His shoulders sag a little then, and he averts his gaze from hers again. “Sorry.”

“Lucifer, you have nothing to be sorry for,” she replies quickly and with force.

“Meowr,” Raffi says lethargically, clearly half zoned out from all the petting.

Lucifer huffs a small, miserable sounding laugh. “I suppose, though I’m not sure that you’re qualified to give that sort of advice.”

She waits expectantly for the translation.

“He said I’ll feel better if I talk about it,” Lucifer supplies, without even looking back at her. “Oddly wise for a furball, I have to say.”

Raffi grumbles but offers nothing further, falling back into a catatonic state, too blissed out from the attention Lucifer’s fingers are giving his shoulder blades to care.

“Well, I’ve heard cats are supposed to be more emotionally intelligent than we are.” Still, she leaves the decision to him. “I am here if you do want to talk,” she adds.

A puff of air escapes him and his attention falls to the cat on his knee who is now slumbering peacefully. “I’ve just…” he tries before pausing again and pressing his lips together. His thumb moves restlessly over the back of her hand as he thinks for a long moment. He sighs deeply, before pulling his gaze up to look into her eyes. His are still watery and twinkle in the light. “I’ve never been this happy before,” he says, with a little tremble in his voice that he fails to hide.

She doesn’t understand, but she doesn’t say anything. She just listens. All he needs is for her to be there for him.

“And that scares me.” He closes his eyes briefly and she has to fight the urge to pull him closer to her, to cradle his body against her own and tell him that everything is going to be okay. “I’m scared that I’ll ruin it like I ruin everything else or that I’ll… I’ll lose you.”

The words make her heart ache.

This time she can’t help but pull him into her as a rogue tear slips down his cheek.

“Lucifer, you can’t think like that,” she says softly, digging her fingers into his hair to hold his head against her chest. “We don’t know what might be around the corner, all we can do is make the most of right now.”

She knows as well as he does that their relationship is more complicated than most, that a happy ending may be out of reach, but she also knows that she loves him with all her heart, and she will take whatever happiness the universe will allow them to have.

“And for the record,” she adds, pressing a kiss to his forehead, revelling in the feel of his skin against her lips, “I don’t think you ruin everything.”

He wraps his arms around her middle and soft sobs wrack his frame.

“I love you,” she tells him, whispering the words by his ear like they are sacred.

This is the most open he’s been with her emotionally since, well… ever.

She can’t help but wonder if the newfound companionship of his furry friend has anything to do with it.

-

After the first night, both Lucifer and Raffi simply remain at Chloe’s apartment. They don’t exactly discuss the arrangement, but she doesn’t mind. It’s actually nice getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with Lucifer. They so rarely get the chance to have a break in their busy lives to just be together outside of work.

And Lucifer… he seems so happy. Well, he always seems happy, he is Lucifer after all, ever the one to hide his true feelings with some witty quip or distract from them with drugs and debauchery. Now though, it seems so much more genuine.

He’s lighter now than he has been in a long time.

Since before he went back to Hell.

She suspects that the experience took a much greater toll on him than he realises. If she brings it up, he brushes it off easily claiming that he’s used to the ‘wretched place’ or that thousands of years is nothing to him and his eternal life. That doesn’t lessen the trauma that he relates to that place though. It doesn’t change the things that happened to him there in the past.

Going back did have an effect on him, even if he isn’t able to see it. Even she had been ignorant to it at first, too blinded by the joy that she got from having him back with her.

But now she sees.

Looking back at their past weeks together, she really sees the signs that she’d dismissed. The nightmares, the skittishness, the way he’d tried to retreat or deflect at every possible opportunity.

Now, with Raffi around, he just seems so much… calmer. So much more settled. He’s even started opening up more about his feelings, which is a huge step forward for him. For both of them.

As she watches Lucifer sitting on the couch with Raffi curled in his lap, his fingers moving methodically through his thick fur, she can’t help but think that Raffi’s companionship has had a big effect on him. He’s sitting there with his socked feet up on the coffee table, watching what she believes to be an episode of Bones on the TV. Lucifer chats away happily to Raffi, who occasionally responds in a meow that only he can understand.

He just looks so relaxed.

She just worries about how he will react when Raffi eventually has to leave.

“You guys hungry?” she says, trying to distract from the thought as she walks over from the kitchen to stand by the couch, taking the opportunity to bury her fingers in Lucifer’s soft and unusually untamed hair.

He looks up at her with a bright smile that shines in his dark eyes.

Raffi perks up at the mention of food, his grey ears twitching as he too looks up at her.

“Hungry?” Lucifer repeats the question to Raffi, idly pulling his fingers over his little head, down the length of his back and along his bushy tail.

“Meowr!”

Lucifer laughs. The sound is fond and carefree and makes her heart swell. “He said yes, which I suppose is to be expected. He never seems to stop stuffing his face, does he?” He pauses a moment, regarding Raffi with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s rather remarkable actually.” Sticking his index finger into Raffi’s furry side, he adds, “You’d think with the amount he consumes he’d be rolling around by now.”

Chloe can’t help but laugh at the comment. “So, basically, he’s just like you,” she says with a wide smile. Half the time she’s with him he’s eating junk, whether it be from the vending machine at work, something he’s nabbed from the precinct fridge, or a treat he’s picked up on the way to see her.

Afront washes over his features, though she can clearly see he’s not really offended. “How dare you,” he says, failing to keep the playful smile from his face. “That’s completely different. I have a celestial metabolism, I need to eat more. This one… well, he’s just a blob.”

“Moewrrr,” Raffi grumbles, turning his nose up at Lucifer.

Lucifer smiles in return. “Yes, yes. I’m just trying to get under your fur. Keep your hair on.” He laughs a little as Raffi stands up and walks away from him, hopping onto the arm of the couch.

“Anyway”— Chloe laughs at the little exchange— “I take it that’s a yes for lunch then?”

Lucifer nods, taking his feet off the table and sitting up. “Indeed it is. I rather think—”

He cuts himself off as his phone vibrates where it sits on the couch cushion beside him. Picking it up, he looks at the screen, and his smile fades immediately.

Chloe frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Lucifer swallows thickly, pressing his lips together. “It’s nothing, it’s just… Javier is out of the hospital.” He pauses and for a moment silence lingers. His finger taps restlessly against the side of his phone as he drops it back to his side. “He’s coming to pick Raffi up soon.”

“Oh.” They knew it would be any day now, and she knew Lucifer wouldn’t be happy about it, but seeing his mood change so quickly makes her heart ache.

She wishes Raffi could stay, but sadly, it just can’t be. He isn’t theirs. He already has a home and an owner who loves him.

They knew this was how it was going to turn out when they agreed to look after him.

She places a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, gently massaging the now tense muscles through the fine cotton of his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“What is there to be sorry about?” he says, a little sharper than she expects. His lips set into a thin line and tension fills his features as his gaze settles on the floor, clearly avoiding looking at both Chloe and Raffi.

He’s upset. In his own way, that is.

She wants to offer him some kind of comfort, but she knows that’s probably not going to help.

“I’m going to go get Raffi’s stuff together,” she tells him, briefly squeezing his shoulder again before releasing him. It’s a lame excuse really. Raffi doesn’t have a lot of things apart from a soft bed that Lucifer had bought him and a few toys she’d gotten at the store. It’s just a reason to give the two of them some time alone, to let Lucifer say goodbye before it’s time for Raffi to leave.

He nods silently in response, not taking his eyes off the floor.

“Okay, I’ll just…” She awkwardly points towards the stairs before making her way up them, leaving the two of them alone.

-

Lucifer sits, staring at nothing in particular, too lost in his thoughts to really think about why Chloe had made such a lame excuse to leave the room.

There’s an uncomfortable ache deep in his chest that just seems to grow in its intensity with each second that passes. He doesn’t really know why. He knew that this was going to happen. That Raffi couldn’t stay forever.

It doesn’t mean it hurts any less though.

“Are you okay?” Raffi meows quietly, a gentle calming sound that pulls his focus back to the here and now. “Do you want to stroke my fur?”

A small smile manages to pull at his lips at that. He turns to look at the cat— at his friend— who is perched on the arm of the sofa beside him. He sits up straight, with his puffy tail primly wrapped around his body, resting on the top of his perfect little paws. His big round eyes glisten in the light and for a second he thinks he sees a certain sadness lingering in the pitch black of those wide pupils.

Lucifer sighs wearily and lifts his hand, holding his palm out in open offer. Raffi quickly accepts, jerkily lifting his bum as he pushes his little forehead against Lucifer’s hand with surprising force. He stands fully then, brushing the length of his furry body against Lucifer’s hand before turning around and repeating the motion.

For a few long minutes they just stay like that. Lucifer lets his fingers stray through Raffi’s thick fur, moving between his favourite petting spots to pay each some attention. He scratches his head, feeling the delicate bumps of Raffi’s skull beneath the skin, before moving behind his ear and then under his chin.

Raffi hops down onto the sofa cushion beside him then, and flops over, exposing the silky soft fur that covers his belly for him to pet.

As he does he feels a kind of calmness settle within him. That sadness that he’d felt before is still there, but it feels smaller somehow.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Lucifer finally says, his tone coated with a certain sorrow that seems to linger in his mouth, making his throat constrict.

Raffi stares back at him, blinking slowly, purposefully. “Does it have to be?”

Lucifer presses his lips together, trying to smile despite the feelings that stir within telling him to do otherwise. It shouldn’t be this difficult to say goodbye to a cat, but for some reason, it is.

Somewhere along the way he’d actually started to like the creature and now he has to say goodbye.

It feels like a cruel joke.

Maybe it is.

“Can’t you visit?” Raffi adds quietly.

“I…” Lucifer hesitates. Could he visit? Javi seems like a reasonable man. Perhaps Lucifer could find an excuse to drop by every now and again. “I will,” he says with a smile. “You have my word.”

Raffi trills happily, but Lucifer can’t really share the sentiment.

It’s not really the same. The past couple of weeks he’s gotten so used to having Raffi by his side, having him curl up on his lap while they watch tv or simply be near when he has a bad night. Visiting can’t replace that, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

“Your word is your bond,” Raffi meows. Joy fills his little face and his ears twitch happily.

Lucifer chuckles. He remembered.

“Raffi,” he says finally, breaking the amicable silence that has settled between them, “I just want to say thank you.”

Raffi blinks, uncomprehending. “What for?”

Lucifer smiles weakly, with a certain fondness lingering behind it. “For showing me that I was wrong and, after all the things I said to you, still being my friend.”

His ears twitch. “I would be your friend no matter what. I like you, even if you smell funny sometimes.”

Lucifer can’t help but laugh. “For the last time, I do not smell funny!” he exclaims.

“Yes you do,” Raffi replies with a sing-song meow.

They talk for a little longer after that about nothing of particular importance. He just wants to enjoy the precious few moments he has left, and he does.

In fact, between Chloe and Raffi, he thinks this is the happiest he’s felt in a long, long time.

Perhaps even ever.

-

Chloe stands at the kitchen counter, restlessly tapping the bent brochure in her hand against the black marble as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

Should she?

Her eyes skim over the picture on the paper once more, tracing over the words for what feels like the millionth time.

She shouldn’t.

But… it might help him. He might actually like it. In fact, she’s sure if he stopped being stubborn for two minutes he would like it.

He’ll definitely be awkward about it at first, but it can’t hurt to just look, can it?

Stopping fidgeting, she unfolds the paper and looks at it again. She doesn’t get a chance to read it though as a knock at the door startles her, followed immediately by Lucifer striding in.

She doesn’t really know why he bothers knocking if he’s just going to walk in anyway. At least he isn’t sneaking up on her and almost giving her a coronary every time he comes over anymore though.

Quickly, feeling more than a little guilty for even looking at the pamphlet, she hides the item in question behind her back before he has a chance to see it.

“Detective!” He greets her with a bright smile, looking unreasonably stylish in a dark maroon suit and black shirt. “Good morning.”

“Hey!” she replies, a joyful smile pulling at her lips just at the sight of him. She doesn’t move to greet him with a kiss like she normally would, instead standing awkwardly with her hands and the brochure behind her back.

She realises it’s a mistake as he stops short in the hallway beyond the breakfast bar. He narrows his eyes at her, his smile fading as he tilts his head to one side in a manner that reminds her of Raffi. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes scan over her from head to toe.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a spark of curiosity alight in his dark eyes.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she shakes her head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

His face creases with confusion, a line forming between his brows. “Then what are you hiding behind your back?”

Oh crap. She really isn’t good at being inconspicuous at all. It’s lucky she’s never really had to do any major undercover work. “It’s nothing really, just a—”

She cuts herself off as Lucifer strides over to her, closing the space between them in three easy steps and holds out one hand in front of her, cocking an eyebrow.

The stand off lasts for approximately thirty seconds before she gives into him and pulls the paper from behind her back, placing it in his outstretched hand without a word.

His eyes narrow as he scans over it, his lips parting as a silent question washes over his features. After a long, tense moment, he looks back up at her. “A cat shelter?” he asks. “Why do you have this?” Then, suddenly, a wave of realisation dawns him. “Oh! Are you getting the urchin a cat?” He glances over his shoulder towards Trixie’s room. “Is it her birthday again already?”

She swallows hard, forcing a smile through her gritted teeth. “No, I’m not getting Trixie a cat,” she says, stressing her daughter’s name.

He frowns again. “So why do you—” His eyes go wide as her meaning hits him like a freight train. “Absolutely bloody not.” Scoffing and shaking his head, he shoves the pamphlet back into her hands and spins on his heel to walk away from her.

“Lucifer, wait!” she calls after him, breaking into a little jog to keep up with his massive strides as he heads straight for the door. “Just hear me out!”

He stops in his tracks— causing her to almost walk straight into him— and slowly turns to face her again, arching an eyebrow. She supposes that’s his way of saying he’s listening, so she decides to get on with it before he tries to make a break for it again.

“Having Raffi around was really good for you,” she starts, recalling how he’d seemed calmer these past two weeks. Raffi’s presence had not only helped him with his nightmares, but the animal seemed to be able to pick up on Lucifer’s emotions and offer him some kind of comfort much quicker than she had been able to. “You have to admit that you liked him.”

Lucifer grumbles in response before adding a reluctant, “I suppose so.”

He’s coming around to the idea, she can see it. “So, I thought that maybe we could go take a look?” She gives him a moment to think about it, reaching out to take his hand. “It can’t hurt to look can it?”

The muscles in his jaw flicker as he clenches and unclenches his teeth, clearly considering her proposal. And then finally, he looks her straight in the eyes, opens his mouth, and replies with a resolute, “No.”

He pulls his hand from hers, holding them both up in front of him, palms facing her. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll pass on visiting the fleabag factory, thank you very much.” He spins on his heel again, heading towards the door once more. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait!” she cries out, causing him to stop again. “What if we make a deal?” She doesn’t usually make deals with Lucifer. She doesn’t usually have to, he’d do almost anything for her, but this isn’t for her. It’s for him, and she knows in her heart that this would be good for him.

Looking back at her, he cocks his head, raising his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”

Her mouth hangs open for a moment as she realises she’s at a loss here. What can she give him that he doesn’t already have?

And then it hits her.

She can’t.

But she has to.

It’s the only way.

“I’ll tell you my secret, if you go to the shelter with me.”

His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“But you have to take it seriously and actually look around.” She raises her index finger to him. She won’t have him squirming out of this with some loophole. “We stay for an hour, minimum, and you actually have to look at the cats.”

“Deal,” he replies without hesitation, before breaking out into the sweetest, most shit-eating smile she’s ever seen. “I take my payment upfront so come on”— he presses his tongue into his cheek, his eyes darkening as he draws his gaze over her— “spill.”

She sighs. “Fine.” Folding her arms across her chest, she averts her gaze from his, choosing to closely examine every inch of the shoe rack by the door rather than look at him.

Oh boy, she is already regretting this.

“I have this dream sometimes”— ‘Sometimes’ is an understatement, but he doesn’t need to know that— “I have this dream where we are…” her gaze flickers to his and she immediately regrets it because he’s standing there, hanging on every single word that comes out of her mouth. He’s even leaned in closer to her. “You know.” She waves her hand vaguely in the space between them, suddenly feeling very awkward.

“Having sex,” he fills in for her with a smirk.

She hums, nodding as she takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the next part. “And you… you have…”

The next word gets stuck in her throat. She can’t bring herself to say it.

Lucifer leans in closer, an expression she can only describe as manic glee written all over his face. “Yes? I have…?” he prompts her when she doesn’t finish.

Alright, here it goes. There’s no way out now, so she might as well just own it.

“Horns.” She looks straight at him. “You have horns, and I like it.”

His face drops.

“Horns,” he parrots.

She feels an intense heat rush to her cheeks.

“That…” he draws out, his expression surprisingly neutral as he straightens and clears his throat, “was not what I was expecting.”

The urge to bury her face in her hands is strong. She’s never, ever going to live this down. The look on Lucifer’s face suggests as much.

“So,” he says, the ghost of a smile creeping back across his lips, “you could say you’re horny in more ways than one.” A bright smile spreads across his stupidly handsome face, only serving to increase her mortification.

Because of course he’s going to make puns about it.

He’s Lucifer. What else did she expect.

“I suppose three horns are always better than one,” he adds with a Cheshire grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

She bites her lip, praying for it to end. “Okay,” she nods, rolling her eyes, “get it all out.” Hopefully he’ll tire himself out. After all, how many devil horn puns can he really come up with?

“Is that a line from your dream?” he quips without missing a beat. She has to fold her arms to combat the urge to press her face into the palm of her hand. “Did I have the tail to match too? You know I’m a stickler for wardrobe coordination.”

She presses her lips together, letting his string of questions wash over her. “Are you done?”

He takes a breath, his smile fading but not leaving his face. “Yes, I suppose I’ve made my point.” His manic smile returns in a flash. “Or even”— he holds his index fingers up above his head, miming devil horns and wiggling them at her— “two points.”

Reaching out, she grabs his arm. “Alright, your turn,” she says as she drags him towards the door, trying to ignore the litany of devil related puns that are spilling from his lips.

At least he’s not complaining though.

-

Contrary to what the brightly coloured, cheerful looking pamphlet would have them believe, the cat shelter is not a nice place.

In fact, hellish is quite an apt description.

First of all, the smell is overwhelming. Lucifer can’t help but cover his nose and mouth with his hand as soon as they walk through the door.

Second, the place seems a bit… run down. He thought with cats being such picky creatures, it would be immaculate, but it isn’t. It isn’t a small building, but inside every available space is in use for something or other. The reception is only tiny and that fact is accentuated by the bags of cat food that are stacked against the wall.

The light above them bathes the room in an overly artificial yellow glow that flickers every now and again. The tacky tile pattern linoleum flooring is scratched and worn, to the point where even the concrete floor beneath is exposed in some places.

They stand in the reception area for a few minutes before a staff member finally emerges from a door behind the chipped wooden counter. “Hi there!” She’s a relatively short woman with curly orange hair, a bright smile, and a freckle-spattered and rosy-cheeked face.

She brushes a clump of cat hair from the arm of her baggy plaid shirt as she rounds the counter to greet them. “My name is Angie. How can I help you today?”

Lucifer stands there feeling rather awkward as he tries to smile at the enthusiastic woman. How can she be this happy about working here?

Chloe returns Angie’s smile and takes Lucifer by the elbow, pulling him forwards a little bit. “We are thinking about adopting a cat,” she says before looking up at him. “Aren’t we?”

He just hums, smiling tightly. This was a bad idea. He’s not a cat person. Well… he likes Raffi, but that’s different. He doesn’t need a pet. This whole thing is just ridiculous.

But he did make a deal, and he will stick to it. He’ll look around and then they can get out of here. Easy peasy. No problem at all.

“Don’t mind him,” Chloe tells Angie. “He’s just shy.”

“I am not shy,” he snaps a little bit too quickly, feeling a bit offended by the accusation. He’s anything but shy. If anyone is shy here it is the Detective.

Angie smiles fondly at them. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Anyway, do you wanna come on through and take a look around?” She gestures to the right of the reception desk, through a doorway which has a metal safety gate attached to it.

Choe nods and they follow her as she opens the gate and leads them through to the next room.

This area is a bit nicer than the rest of the place. It’s a bit more open and although the walls are plain and decorated with chipping paint in a shade of blue that, in Lucifer’s opinion, should be reserved for hospitals, it is more like what he was expecting.

There’s a large cat tree in the corner that has a couple of stretched out tabbies dozing on the plateaus. A row of beds sits along one wall, all different sizes, materials, and colours, each occupied by a cat, or in one case, three smaller kittens.

The room contains more animals than there appears to be beds for, which seems strange.

“Is this the only room?” he asks as he wanders over towards where a scruffy orange tortoiseshell is batting a ball around excitedly.

Angie shakes her head. “This is just the common area where our cats can play and be social. The housing is in the back. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough space to allow all our cats out at one time, and many new additions find it stressful being in crowded rooms, so we keep them separate.”

Lucifer frowns. They have more cats? The place doesn’t really seem big enough for it. “It’s a little crowded, isn’t it? Ever considered expanding? Or perhaps even replacing this dreadful flooring?” He nudges a loose piece of lino with his Louboutin-clad foot.

Angie laughs. “I wish.” Two small cats, probably not very old, play by her feet, and she bends down to stroke one of them, smiling fondly as she runs her hand over its shiny black and white fur. “We’re a non-profit. We run on donations alone and this past year has been rough.” She stands up again, stretching out her back. “And we’re also a no-kill shelter which means we will never euthanise a healthy animal.” A flash of sadness flickers across her face as she looks down at the happily playing cats in front of her. “It’s the right thing to do, but it means we’re a bit overloaded and always short on funding. It’s a struggle to keep the lights on sometimes, but we get by.”

A pang of sadness squeezes his heart at her words.

“Anyway”— Angie claps her hands together, her bright smile returning as she drops the topic— “I’ll give you folks some space to look around.” She points to a door at the back of the room. “Through there is the housing area. Feel free to take a look and call me if you need anything.” And with that she disappears back through to the reception where they came from.

He doesn’t hear Chloe move to stand at his side, and startles when she takes his hand, tangling their fingers together. He was too lost in his thoughts about this place, about the animals that live here and the people that obviously work so tirelessly to keep them safe.

Most of them are scruffy with obvious injuries or signs of old wounds that have healed. Many are very young, probably lost or abandoned. No longer wanted by their owners so they’ve just been thrown out on the street like rubbish.

It doesn’t seem fair that places like these that are just trying to do some good have to struggle as well.

“You okay?” she asks, her tone gentle, probably noticing how distant he’s grown.

He hums distractedly in response, eyes fixed on a grey short-haired cat with a chunk missing out of one of its ears. “I’m fine,” he replies, but the way his voice cracks tells a different story.

She squeezes his hand. “You know maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I just thought that—”

“No,” he says maybe a bit too quickly. He snaps his gaze to look into her wide blue eyes. “I mean… it was a good idea.” He falls silent after that, not really knowing what else to say.

Chloe releases his hand, and he wanders over to the grey cat that hasn’t stopped staring at them since they entered. It has blue eyes and grey whiskers. Its fur is a little thin in places making it look a little bit scruffy, unlike Raffi’s immaculately kept coat.

“Hello,” he says, bending down and offering a hand.

“Go away,” the cat yowls, jerking away from him and running to retreat into one of the boxes that makes up the cat condo.

He swallows hard. Alright then. Maybe he’ll try someone else.

As he stands up he feels something bump into the back of his legs. He spins around to see the playful young cat that Angie had stroked before. It freezes when it sees Lucifer looking down at it, its bright green eyes going wide.

The ball it is playing with is a red plastic thing with hole torn in the side, but the cat doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“Hi!” It meows loudly, more of a screech than anything else. “Do you like my toy? I like my toy! Do you want to play with my toy?”

“Hello, I— uh…”

The cat runs around in a circle before flopping on its side and batting at the ball, still meowing loudly. “It’s fun to play with my toy!” It doesn’t really seem to notice that Lucifer isn’t interested in playing with his toy, and soon loses interest in him as he bats the little ball across the room and chases after it.

That one is a bit… enthusiastic. Perhaps he’ll just look around a bit more. Maybe one that’s a little calmer?

He walks across the room and crouches down by a bed that has what can only be described as a slumbering ball of fluff. It’s curled so tightly that he can’t see its face, tail or paws.

“Hello there,” he says softly, reaching out to put his hand on top of it.

“Sleeping,” it grumbles without moving.

Lucifer nods. “Okay then.” He rubs the back of his neck a bit sheepishly as he stands up. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Raffi was just a fluke. Maybe he really doesn’t like cats.

“Hey,” Chloe says, smiling as she playfully bumps him with her shoulder. “Why don’t we go look in the other room?”

The “housing” room, as Angie had called it, isn’t inviting at all. It’s just walls of cages that look small even for the tiniest of creatures. The lights are dimmer here and more sterile than the other room.

As he walks along the rows, he looks inside. They don’t have much in them apart from a blanket and the odd toy. The animals seem to be quieter too, less willing to interact with him which is saying something after the other room.

“This is awful,” he says absently, feeling an ache in his chest. These animals, no matter how aloof or prickly they may be, they don’t deserve this.

One of the creatures yowls at him as he walks past, saying nothing in particular, though it doesn’t sound happy, so he leaves it alone.

A quiet, weak little meow catches his attention. He almost doesn’t hear it over the yowls of the other cat. It’s coming from the bottom row, and he has to crouch down to see into the enclosure.

It’s a bit dark as the light hits the cage at an angle, casting the inside into the shadows and he doesn’t see anything in there at first. And then, in the very back corner, he sees it.

A tiny black kitten, probably no more than six weeks old. It stares at him with wide eyes, its little body quaking with fear.

Lucifer looks at the label on the front of the cage that seems to have the information for each animal on it. Only it’s mostly blank for this one. It has an admission date and a sex, but no name.

He looks back up at the cowering little creature.

He’s completely black, including his whiskers and nose, so it’s no wonder he blends in with the dark so well. He mews again, a quiet vulnerable little noise that’s barely more than a squeak.

“Hello little one,” Lucifer says softly, raising his hand to rest his fingers on the lower horizontal bars of the cage.

“H-hi,” he meows back, his little voice shaking.

Lucifer wiggles his finger, gently offering a scratch. The kitten eyes his hand warily. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

Hesitantly the little creature stumbles over to him on trembling paws, tripping over the folds of his blanket on the way. He bumps his tiny head against Lucifer’s finger, pushing his body against the door of the cage, and immediately begins to purr.

“My name’s Lucifer,” he tells the nameless kitten as he walks up and down, rubbing his face against Lucifer’s finger the best he can through the bars. His confidence seems to grow as he does. “Do you have a name?”

The kitten stops and blinks at him. “I don’t think so.”

He’s so young, he must have been abandoned by his mother, or perhaps he had gotten lost. Or maybe someone just didn’t want him.

“Well, that won’t do, will it?” He smiles softly as the little kitten makes a confused face and plonks himself down on his bum. His tiny tail is a disproportionate length to his body, but that’s probably because he’s so little.

He feels Chloe standing behind him, watching him.

“I like your name,” he meows, more confidently this time, showing off his set of sharp, perfectly white teeth. “I like you.”

Lucifer smiles. It reminds him of that first night he’d spent with Raffi on the balcony of the penthouse. “Thank you. I like you too.”

Chloe’s hand settles on his shoulder. “Made a friend?”

“I believe so, yes.” He pauses, looking at the tiny creature. He can’t help but wonder what sort of life he has here, or what sort of life any of these animals has. “Do you like it here?”

The kitten pauses, blinking slowly. “I don’t know…” he meows quietly. “The other cats make me feel scared, so I stay in here.”

His heart breaks for the kitten. He’s so little and vulnerable and he deserves a good life. That doesn’t seem to be what he’s getting here, though Lucifer doubts he knows any better at this age.

He rubs a hand over his scruff and sighs. All these animals deserve better, but he can’t help all of them himself.

He’s about to stand up when the kitten meows again, with more force, more desperation this time. “Where are you going?” He sounds scared. Little tremors start to wrack his delicate frame once more. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

He swallows hard as a pain shoots through his chest and his throat constricts.

“Nowhere,” Lucifer tells him. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He stands up and looks at Chloe. Without him even having to say anything, she reaches out and rests her hand on his bicep, gently rubbing up and down.

“Do you want to keep him?” she asks, her smile soft and genuine.

“I…” The words catch in his throat. “I can’t leave him here,” he admits, surprising even himself.

-

“So…” Lucifer says, thinking as he stares at the little ball of fluff that sits on the breakfast bar, staring back at him with bright blue eyes. “You need a name.”

They’ve had the kitten for a few days now and he seems to have settled in well. Lucifer may have gone slightly overboard with his task of procuring a pet bed and various other amenities for the scrappy little creature, but who can blame him? The only reaction Chloe had when he’d turned up at her apartment with a three-tier cat condo, a fluffy donut bed, and a bag full of toys was a fond little eye roll.

The cat stares back at him, tiny tail wiggling a little as he pulls himself to sit up straighter.

“I chose my name,” he tells the cat. “It seems only fair that you should have a say in yours.”

The cat blinks slowly. “I don’t know.” He tilts his head to one side, his gaze curious and full of the innocence of youth. His little foot slips from underneath him as he sits there, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. “Cat?”

Lucifer scoffs. “’Cat’ is not a name, that’s what you are.” The cat blinks at him again, waiting patiently. This isn’t going to get them anywhere fast. He’ll have to think of a different approach. “Alright… what sort of name do you want?”

The cat hops up, jumping a little, his tail wiggling excitedly as he decides that it’s time to play and attacks Lucifer’s hand. “Something cool!”

He flops onto his side and jerkily swipes at Lucifer’s fingers. It’s not really achieving anything, but he does look like he’s having fun.

Lucifer smiles fondly, moving his fingers, causing the little one to jump back up and pounce on them. “Quite the feisty one, aren’t you?” he says with a chuckle, watching as the animal attempts to chew on the tip of his finger. “Clearly a fighter…”

He hums a little as he watches the creature attacking his hand over and over, never giving up. His fur is jet black and he seems rather fierce.

“How about Cerberus?” he suggests. It’s a strong name. Definitely cool and definitely fit for the Devil’s pet. He never did have a hellhound, but if he had that’s what he would have named it.

The cat stops attacking and looks up at him, excitement filling his feline features. “I like it!”

Lucifer grins as Cerberus pushes his little head against the palm of his hand with as much force as his tiny body can muster before rubbing himself against his hand repeatedly, tickling the skin of his palm. He looks happy and that… well, that makes Lucifer happy too.

“Hey guys.” Chloe greets them both as she comes down the stairs and brushes past him to enter the kitchen, gently running her fingers across the small of his back as she goes. “Have you come up with a name yet?”

Lucifer plucks Cerberus up from the counter. He’s so small that he fits in one hand. “We have!” he exclaims proudly, spinning on his heel to look at her as she potters around the sink, picking up the clean dishes to put away. “Meet Cerberus!”

She pauses what she’s doing, plate in hand and looks at him with a frown. “Cerberus?”

He hums an affirmative, bobbing his head with a wide grin on his face. “He likes it.”

Chloe’s gaze lingers on them for a moment before a small smile spreads across her face. “Alright, Cerberus it is then.”

He watches her as she continues to put the pots away, smiling to herself as she does. The sunlight catches her face as it spills through the window, illuminating her sharp, beautiful features and causing her golden hair to glow softly.

How did he ever get so lucky to have someone who cares about him so deeply?

Suddenly, she frowns, her features creasing, but still as beautiful as ever. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye for a second before turning to him fully. “What?”

He blinks blankly back at her. Cerberus wiggles in his hand. He seems to be having fun attacking his finger still, though he can hardly feel his barely developed claws scratching his skin. “What?” he replies. “I didn’t say anything.”

She smiles back at him. It’s so full of love that he feels his heart swell in his chest. “You were staring.” Her cheeks tinge pink a little bit and it is adorable.

He smirks. “Well, the view is spectacular,” he purrs, coaxing a soft chuckle from her.

Her smile turns shy, and she bobs her head, biting her lip a little as she pulls at the too long sleeves of her knit jumper. “You know,” she says, stepping towards him, her gaze moving between him and the kitten in his hand, “I read something interesting in the news just now.”

She places her hand on his bicep, standing so close to him now that it makes him feel a bit weak in the knees. She gently prises the still playful Cerberus out of his hand and carefully places him down on the floor. He happily shoots off out of sight as soon as his paws hit the floor, chasing something that only he can see, and leaving them alone.

She presses a hand to his chest, fingers tracing over the lines of his waistcoat as she looks up at him.

He waggles his eyebrows at her, slowly licking his lips. “Oh? And what might that be?” he asks, his voice dropping half an octave as he feels her fingers straying over his chest through the thin material of his shirt.

“The cat shelter received an anonymous donation,” she says, stressing the word ‘anonymous’ as she looks deep into his eyes with a knowing look in hers. “A very large anonymous donation.”

“Oh?” He smiles, feigning innocence. He knows damn well that she knows it was him, she is a detective after all, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it any time soon.

“And,” she draws the word out, taking his face in her hand and gently stroking her thumb across his stubble, “they weren’t the only one. Shelters across the city have also been the recipients of this mysterious donor.”

Okay. He didn’t think she’d find out about those ones. He clears his throat, feeling rather embarrassed. “Well… good for them.”

Chloe’s smile widens, her dimples deepening as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think this mysterious donor must be very kind and generous to do something like that.”

He frowns a little, wondering if she does actually know it was him. “I suppose they must be,” he answers.

Then, she leans up on her tiptoes, pressing her palm against his chest to steady herself, and kisses him. He closes his eyes and melts into it, wrapping one hand around her waist to pull her closer to him.

She pulls away, lingering mere millimetres from his lips, leaving him hungry for just a little bit more. Her crystal-clear blue eyes shine as she looks into his. “You are a good man, Lucifer Morningstar, and I think I love you a little bit more every day for that,” she says softly.

His heart skips a beat, and he feels a warmth blossom inside his chest that only she could ever cause. “I love you too,” he replies, low and breathless before he dips his head to capture her lips with his again.

“And,” he says after a moment, pulling away to flash a devilish grin at her, “I have something for you.”

Her little smile is so bright it truly lights up his world. “You do?”

He hums an affirmative. “Close your eyes.”

She does, and he reaches into the plastic bag that lies on the counter from his earlier trip to the supermarket to buy cat food, freeing her gift. He quickly slips the pair of shiny red costume devil horns onto his head, uncaring of what they are doing to his finely styled hair, and takes her hand once again.

“Alright, open,” he tells her.

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, and then, her jaw drops and her face turns a ridiculously bright shade of red. “Lucifer!” she cries, playfully pushing him away as he tries to kiss her again. “You’re such an idiot!” she says with nothing but fondness in her voice.

He kisses her then, quickly nipping at her lip. “I can take them off if you want,” he murmurs, moving down to her neck as he feels her hands stray over his back, slowly moving up towards his neck.

“No,” she says, groaning a little as he pulls her closer, “keep them.”

And then, pulling away, just enough to look into his surprised eyes, she grabs a handful of his shirt. “Couch,” she says, sounding a bit breathless, “now.”

He grins, more than happy to oblige as he lets himself be led towards the sofa.

She turns him around when they get there, and kisses him again, hungry for the taste of him, before pulling away and licking her lips. Her gaze moves slowly over him, flickering up to the fake horns on his head and then back to his face. A spark of mischief dances in her eyes and she bites her lip.

“I want the wings as well,” she says suddenly, surprising him with her confidence. Usually, she’s a bit more… reserved about these things.

He grins. “Whatever you desire,” he purrs, voice low and velvety.

He shrugs his shoulders, unfurling his massive white wings and sending a gust of air through the room.

She all but pounces on him then. He tumbles backwards onto the sofa, taking her with him and wrapping one wing around them to cushion their fall.

Her fingers delve into his soft feathers, working away in methodical patterns as she kisses his lips with a fiery passion that takes his breath away.

They get lost in each other after that, she starts to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kisses her neck, letting his hands explore the curves of her body. His fingers work deftly, paying every part of her attention before moving to undo her jeans and slip his—

“Meow!”

They both freeze, frowns creasing their faces as their attention snaps towards the sound of the interruption.

There, in the middle of his outstretched wing, is Cerberus, batting at one of his feathers.

“Can I play too?” he asks enthusiastically and oh so innocently.

“Cerberus!” they both say in unison, laughing at the sweet little kitten.

At one time Lucifer would’ve been annoyed by it, but now, with his heart so full of love for his detective and the new addition to their strange little family, he truly can’t find it in himself to be anything but happy.

FIN