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25 Days Until Christmas
“So, you and Lucifer.” Chloe begins on a silent, November evening at the Decker-Smith residence. Trixie is with her father and, after a particularly exhausting work day for the both of them, the offspring’s absence is a blessing. The bottle of Merlot sits half-empty in the middle of the bar and, as Chloe refills her glass, the level descends once more. Another empty glass rises above the couch Maze is currently lounging on. Wincing at the ache her bruised left hip gives in response to movement, she ventures over.
“Too complicated for your sober self to understand.” She interjects after Chloe refills it. “I’d wait until we’re at least another bottle in to discuss that.”
The detective nearly chokes mid-sip when she realizes what Maze is referring to. “You didn’t let me finish.” She says. “I was trying to ask if you two celebrate Christmas or not, though I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this.”
“Oh, we do.” Maze answers without missing a beat. “Lucifer loves it.”
“I figu-” The words come to a slow halt in her throat as the words sink in. Chloe’s eyes travel from her roommate, to their drinks, and then back at Maze, who looks to be waiting for a reply that will not come.
“What?”
“I’m waiting for you to admit-”
“-that I’m screwing with you?” Maze asks before draining a good half of her glass. “Because I’m not.”
As earnest as she sounds, Chloe still doesn’t believe it. “So you’re telling me that Lucifer ‘loves’ a holiday devoted to celebrating the birth of-”
“His father-brother, yep.” Maze nods. “Be grateful that I’m the one giving you the explanation instead of him. Otherwise, we’d be up all night listening to that asshole’s analysis of humanity.”
Chloe lets a small chuckle escape as she imagines what that rant might consist of. “I’m probably going to end up hearing it anyway, but go ahead and give me the abridged version first.” She says, refilling Maze’s glass again before settling down in a nearby chair.
“Does the phrase ‘taking Christ out of Christmas’ ring any bells?” Maze asks and the holiday sounds almost foreign coming from her. Still, Chloe nods. “Well, it’s true. This ‘holy day’ has become less about Lucifer’s dad and more about your kind’s obsession with buying shit you don’t need for people who don’t deserve it.” A smirk forms around the rim of Maze’s cup as she takes another sip. “It also gives you people an excuse to sin. I mean, remember that guy I had to track down after Black Friday?”
“The mugger who left his wallet in the same alley he nearly killed someone in?” Chloe shakes her head. “Idiot.”
“And you know what it was over? Some ‘limited edition’ game console he wanted to give his nephew!” Maze cackles. “You people sin so much in His name around this time of year and, in our eyes, that’s an insult neither of us can even try to top.”
At her core, Chloe knows she wants to believe everything her friend is saying. However, like the way she has positioned herself to keep weight off that damned welt, something still doesn’t sit right. “So you join in, instead?” She asks, her brows furrowed at the association of her friends with words like “jolly” and “merry.”
Annoyance melts into understanding in Maze’s eyes before she dares to respond. “Mostly, yeah.” She says. “Lucifer hires one of LA’s top decorators for his place every year, but it’s always ‘classy’ as he calls it and, before you ask, there is always a tree.” Another half of her drink disappears. “Pagan tradition, so it’s always obnoxiously big.”
“Another middle finger towards his dad?”
Maze nods. “Yep, and that’s about all we do. Christmas Eve and Day are business as usual at Lux.”
“What about gifts?” It comes out before she can stop it. “I mean-”
“We don’t.” She monotones. “Receive, that is. Lucifer loves giving people what they desire, of course, but neither of us want the useless crap people give around this time.” Each word Maze says moves her grip from the glass’s stem to its bowl. Both of their eyes meet and Chloe swears she can see her roommate’s guard fall in a moment of hesitation. “Especially not-” She sighs, her glare falling into a downcast stare at the wine she has stopped drinking. “-not when you could be spending what little you get paid on other things for other people, like that little human of yours.”
As much as she tries, Chloe cannot seem to come up with a response to Maze’s little confession. Her mouth opens to produce something that feels snarky on her tongue, but closes with the familiarity of Maze’s expression. That timidness accompanied with an almost shameful glance up at Chloe, as if she’s done something wrong, mirrors what she’s seen in Lucifer when they’re alone and he can’t charm his way through a conversa-
“Changing the subject.” Maze’s bluntness jerks Chloe from her brief reflection. “What should I expect from this place around Christmas?”
Chloe shrugs. “Since Trix came along, I’ve had a case to work on maybe half of the past Christmases.” She explains. “So, unless Mom intervenes, we usually have dinner on Christmas Eve and exchange gifts that morning. Nothing huge.”
“Sounds good to me.”
20 Days Until Christmas
Though Maze had made no promises, Chloe can’t help but be grateful that she didn’t let her former boss know about their little discussion. Holiday discussion on top of what would become the next week would have been out of the question. The next five days after that night have her phone ringing off the hook with cases and, this time last year, the dull ache still coming from her side would have gone unnoticed. However, the slight limp accompanying it has been noticed by someone she didn’t have the pleasure of knowing last year.
“Are you sure you’re alright, detective?” Lucifer asks on a Monday, the look of concern in his eyes working wonders on Chloe’s usually steady heartbeat. “That fall you took-”
“It’s just a bruise, don’t worry.” She says, forcing back a wince as the next step she takes sends another ache up the side of her back. “A slippery kitchen floor isn’t going to keep me from work, especially not after all the shit I’ve dealt with this year.”
16 Days Until Christmas
Her initial reaction isn’t nearly as polite when he asks her again four days later. They’re working in the evidence lab on the third case of that week. “I’m fine, Lucifer.” She snaps without taking her eyes off of the set of old Polaroid pictures laid out before them.
Somewhere out of her field of vision, Chloe hears their medical examiner inhale sharply. Right. They’re not alone.
Breathe. She tells herself before letting out a heavy sigh. “I appreciate your concern, Lucifer, but I really am fine. Nothing’s broken.” The words come out harsher than Chloe intended, but still softer than her previous retort.
“I mean, except a few blood vessels.” Ella adds, which earns her a brief glare on Chloe’s part. “But she is right and I’m going to change the subject now because I need to ask you-” She points at the detective with a gloved finger. “-a question that isn’t related to all this.” That same hand gestures at the pile of evidence.
“My favorite kind.” Lucifer says and, though she’s facing away from him, Chloe can still see the smirk that she knows has spread across his face. The visual doesn’t bring a smile to her own face. Nope. Not at all.
“Go for it.”
“Well,” Ella leans on an empty corner of the table. “It’s December 8th, which means there’s exactly seventeen days until-” Her voice trails off as her gaze ventures in Lucifer’s direction. “Uhm.”
“Christmas?” It sounds more out of place coming from him than it did Maze.
The wide-eyed stare Ella has plastered on her face afterward nearly forces a laugh out of Chloe. “I’m going to pretend I’m not as confused as I really am for a hot second and keep talking.” She says before continuing. “You’re not against coworkers buying gifts for your kid, right? Because I’ve got a cousin who works at NASA and he is super supportive of Trixie’s career aspirations.”
It takes a “hot second” for Chloe to realize what she’s referring to. “President of Mars.” She says, unable to push back the laugh that comes bubbling up from her chest. That costume Maze made still hangs in Trixie’s closet after Chloe didn’t have the heart to salvage its contents. “Yeah, feel free to send it to my address.”
“Are you sure about that, Detective?” Lucifer asks, concern dripping from every syllable. “The sending it to your address idea, that is.”
For the first time since she snapped at him, Chloe looks up at her partner. “Do you really not trust someone you’ve only just now heard about?”
“It’s not about trust, it’s about that old man most offspring here believe in.” He explains, oblivious to Ella’s jaw dropping in their periphery.
“Santa?” She asks.
“Yes, the one with the rather unfortunate anagram for a name.” He pauses. “Or fortunate, depending on who your ask.” At that, Lucifer sends Chloe a look that she has to physically force herself not to reflect. Not here. Not in front of a coworker. “If you send it to the detective’s house, wouldn’t it ruin the surprise for her offspring?”
The medical examiner shrugs. “Well, yeah, but where else-”
“Lux, of course!” Lucifer beams. “Then, like a handsomer version of the old man, I can deliver them at-”
“You’re assuming I’m going to let a strange man in a suit into my house at midnight.” Chloe retorts with a smile she cannot hide. “Emphasis on the ‘strange’.”
“You wound me, detective.”
Still leaning against the table, albeit with a less shocked expression, Ella sighs. “Okay, I’ll tell him to send it over there but, before I change the subject, you-” The same gloved index finger that was pointing at Chloe minutes prior now points at her partner. “-need to explain how your treatment of your half-brother’s birthday isn’t completely out of character because I am both curious and terrified at the same time.”
The grin that spreads across Lucifer’s face is enough for Chloe to know what’s coming. “Sit down, dear Ella, because this explanation is going to be like-”
“No.”
“-both long and fascinating.”
At that point, Chloe knows she could stop him. She could say that Maze gave her the short version and take it from there. She could return to working on the third case that week. She could keep herself from sitting down next to Ella to watch as her partner describes his opinion of Christmas and what it meant to him and Maze. She could not watch his eyes light up with passion as he analyzes humanity down to its very core in a way that almost makes Chloe envious of his therapist.
But she doesn't.
18 Days Until Christmas
Two days later, Chloe is the only one of her coworkers not to be surprised by the memo pinned on the bulletin board near her desk.
To Whom It May Concern,
All gifts meant for our dear Detective Decker and her family should be sent to the address below. Coworkers should also note that her “family” includes her roommate, Mazikeen Smith, the bounty hunter. Though I would advise against buying her anything that isn’t sharp, black, or dangerous in some way.
Signed,
Lucifer Morningstar
“Maze told me you two didn’t do gifts.” Chloe says, her arms crossed tightly over her chest in an attempt to keep her professional side from removing the paper as Lucifer watches.
“Oh, we don’t.” Lucifer says, chuckling as if his partner had just touched on an inside joke. “But she’s not living off of my paycheck anymore and, since I have been given this wonderful opportunity, why not use it to annoy my favorite little demon?”
Both his tone and Chloe’s delight at the thought of seeing Maze react to receiving gifts she never asked for make the detective’s muscles relax a little. The memo stays. “Now that I know you’re not joking, I guess I’ll get you a spare key to our place.”
“Lovely.”
5 Days Until Christmas
The rest of December seems to pass without incident. Trips to Lux are made, perhaps more frequently for reasons that are completely unrelated to work than Chloe would care to admit to anyone outside of her “tribe.” As Maze had described, both his apartment and club are decorated with taste. Strings of lights line the railings and bar of his club and the bartenders begin to serve spiked eggnog and mulled wine, adding touches of cinnamon and other spices to the place’s usual headiness. The penthouse, in spite of the bustling city below, reminds Chloe of the cabin her mother’s parents used to own before they passed. Touches of gold and deep red, though subtle when viewed in isolation, paint a picture of warmth that surrounds her like a blanket.
Five days before Christmas, Chloe finds herself curled up next to Lucifer on the couch in a manner he likens to that night she never wants to even try to remember. “Are you sure there’s nothing-” Tired syllables fall from her lips without filter. “-I could get you?”
She doesn’t protest as he pulls her close enough to kiss the top of her head. “Please, detective.” Lucifer says, his tone softer than cat’s purr.. “You saved my home. What more could I possibly ask for?”
1 Day Until Christmas
On Christmas Eve, Chloe finds him an answer.
“Impatient, are we?” Lucifer asks when he finds her waiting in the living room. Save for the uncharacteristically bright red shirt he’s wearing, Chloe is pleased to note that he still looks like himself in spite of the strange new role he chose to take on weeks ago. A pleasure that she is far from capable of hiding from him. “Grateful for the lack of fur, detective?”
“Definitely.” She says before noticing the hefty red bag he’s carried, no, dragged inside with both hands. “Are those-”
“Yes.” Lucifer’s usual smirk widens into a proud grin. “Unlike my portly counterpart, this house is the only one lucky enough to earn a visit from yours truly.”
For a brief moment, the detective loses her train of thought. All of those presents, which are piled high enough in the bag that she can’t help but wonder how they will fit under their tree, are meant for them. Not one or two of them, all of them.
“Didn’t expect this, did you?”
Chloe shakes her head. “After Palmetto, I-” She stammers. “-I didn’t think they cared.” Wordlessly, she takes the bag and hefts it onto her couch. As shocked as she feels, the clock is ticking and presents need to be arranged.
Of course, he has other plans. “Before I forget,” Lucifer’s right hands flies to his pockets for a few seconds before producing her spare key. “I should return this key to its rightful owner.”
The gold-wrapped parcel Chloe had just picked up falls to the floor, its place on her list of priorities having suddenly descended. Heart racing, she does her best to not match its pace as she makes her way back to Lucifer.
Chloe takes a deep breath and, without breaking eye contact with him, closes his fingers around the key.
“No.”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I-”
“It’s yours, Lucifer. From now-” Her breath hitches. “- until only your dad knows when.”
For a moment, Chloe wonders if her nerves reduced her voice to such a soft whisper that he didn’t hear her.
The kiss he pulls her into after what feels like an eternity of silence proves otherwise.
“Merry Christmas, Lucifer.”