Carpooling with Chloe and Lucifer

Set in S2, inspired by S2 ep 6 'Monster' Chloe's line 'You look like a homeless magician'. Disclaimer: I own nothing.

---

The undercover mission was a bust. Their main suspect, Devin Barry, a low-life dealer and only connection they had to the murdered prostitute, had run away the exact moment Lucifer attempted to make a deal with him. Quite logically Barry didn't believe his luck when a well-dressed British man ordered five bricks of the finest cocaine money could buy and decided to flee the scene, leaving his accomplice, a teenage boy named Pablo, to fend for himself in the rundown bar downtown.

With Narcs taking over the scene, all Chloe could do was recite Pablo his rights before yanking him into her car in handcuffs to bring him to the station for questioning. Finding Barry would be close to impossible now that he knew the police were on to him. The murdered girl was rumored to be his client, partner maybe, but with only circumstantial evidence they couldn't stop him from leaving the country altogether. She sat behind the wheel, slamming the car doors and pressing her head into the headrest in tense silence. Pablo peeked hesitantly from the back seat; despite being only seventeen, it wasn't the first time he was apprehended by the force. Knowing they didn't find any product on him was reassuring, though. Especially since the detective didn't seem to care for his presence very much, focused on the tall man getting into the passenger's seat with a jovial expression.

"I can't believe how much you blew it", the female cop hissed, glaring at the man. He asserted himself with smug confidence that immediately told Pablo he was more likely to belong in a mob rather than in law enforcement.

"I'll have you know I did no such thing", the man replied, then clicked his seatbelt under the woman's scrutinizing gaze. She started the car, her knuckles white on the wheel. "Who could have expected Mr. Barry to have such strong prejudices against the finer things in life?"

Pablo didn't understand what the man was saying, but then again, he didn't have to. The radio was turned off, so he only listened to the conversation from lack of better things to do. Like contemplating his charges and a possible prison sentence.

"I said casual." The woman was still fuming, but merged into a line with the caution of an elderly devotee. "I fucking told you not to march in there in a three-piece suit with your lordship air and peasant contempt." Pablo remembered the event vividly. For a cop, her acting was on point, a skinny lady laying low, just looking for a fix. She said she knew Clarissa, Devin's ex-girlfriend. It sounded plausible enough and Pablo himself would have sold her dope and felt sorry for her.

Then her partner strode in and the whole bar knew it was a bust.

"There's nothing arrogant about taking care of one's appearance", the weird British man retorted, though he clearly looked guilty, if not a little wounded.

The lady cop snorted, turning on her signal sensibly long before making a turn. "But there's plenty of vanity. It's like you couldn't tell the front side of a t-shirt." Pablo had three sisters and knew when a pissed-off woman's rant was gaining momentum. "I mean, do you even own a pair of sneakers?"

The man didn't seem affected anymore, like he braced himself for her anger. "Pot calling the kettle, detective. One might say it's your own frustration speaking through your discounted Walmart apparel."

The car fell silent for the tiniest of moments. Even Pablo held his breath. "Oh no you didn't, Mister 'I express myself with pocket squares and cocaine'."

Was... was that flirting? That cocky bastard just insulted a police officer and she was responding with banter?

The teenager didn't have time to acknowledge how bizarre his day was getting before the man replied.

"At least I'm not Miss 'Off-brand cereal tastes practically the same'. You do know the 'three for ten dollars deal' isn't an actual deal?"

Pablo didn't dare smile at the burn, sensing the tension in the car. So that was how the rich Europeans did it.

"Careful not to sprain your neck from looking down on us humans so hard." There was definite mocking in the cop's tone, even as she stayed in utter control of herself. Did they do this often? "You might seem like you give a shit and your demon friends wouldn't like that."

What the hell did that mean? Was that guy actually with the mafia?

"Is that right?" His offended tone could well belong in the Parliament. "Well, you look like a bored housewife who forgot to get bread because of the boxed wine sale."

Did he really just get arrested by those people?

"Asshole." Finally, Pablo could agree with a cop on something. "You look like you've been wearing the same makeup since your goth phase in the actual eighteenth century."

"You look like you have to choose between making a down payment on your car or on your toaster."

"You look like you take Vibramycin so often you have to tell people you like the taste."

Seventh grade, this is what it reminded him of. It was getting ridiculous.

"Go out with me tonight."

Oh.

"No."

Pablo met the man's eyes in the rear mirror, noticing something disturbingly akin to a wink.

"Your roots are showing."

That actually got her to snort as she slowed down in traffic, keeping a safe distance from the car in front.

"Not your greatest pick-up line, Lucifer."

Okay, that was a mob name. It had to be.

"Go out with me." The man's eyes were drilling holes in the detective's neck. "Or I'll tell everyone your beauty mark is fake and you had it tattooed to get attention at your mother's auditions."

Did that take balls, or was it just suicidal? Pablo couldn't tell anymore, amazed that adults talked like that.

"No one will believe it", the detective replied confidently, finally turning to Lucifer.

"They would if I said it." He paused, judging her reaction, and she actually seemed to be considering it. "Drinks at Lux at eight? Maybe a little dancing?"

Her fingers drummed at the wheel, impatient to move in the afternoon jam. "Are you blackmailing me into going out with you?"

Pablo briefly wondered if it would ever work for him.

"No, I'm giving you an excuse to say yes." Lucifer's voice lowered into honey-covered temptation. "Come on, detective, I know you want to."

"You still look like a perverted Gomez Addams." Nothing but her words conveyed she changed her mind. "Pick me up at seven."

The man leaned back in the seat, all smug in his expensive out-of-place suit, and Pablo considered asking him for an introduction to the family before he heard his last remark.

"You look like you buy in bulk."

---

Notes: This is a completed work, but due to Wattpad formatting issues will not be updated on this platform. If you'd like to know what happens next, please visit my AO3 profile. Thank you for reading!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witherstone