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The case is a weird one, as they often are in the City of Angels. The owner of a pizza shop was gunned down, they found mob connections that went nowhere, and now they're here, pulling up in front of a run down old townhouse, about to interview the guy's employees one more time, just in case.
Lucifer wasn't allowed in the original interviews. Something about scaring innocent minimum wage workers. So he has no warning for the way his spine tingles when his foot touches the first step.
He stops, pulling his foot back so it hovers an inch over the worn brick, fighting a chill and blinking at the sensation.
He's cold?
Chloe stops at the top, just three stairs up to a pitiful landing, and looks back down at him, one eyebrow raised. Her hand hesitates before the doorbell.
"What's wrong?"
"I... don't know." Lucifer lets his foot fall again, softly, testing. Again, a chill runs up his spine the instant his shoe touches the brick. He leans into it, shifting his weight forward. The chill doesn't worsen. It just... stays, clinging to his bones like a bad ex. "There's something here," he muses, lifting his other foot up to join the first. The sensation doesn't change. "Something I haven't felt in a while. Something..."
A flash of memory — heat in his bones, scorchingly hot, and a mad tyrant sending horde after horde down to Hell. It's been, what a thousand years? Two thousand? Lucifer had sighed in relief when he heard the king was sealed, glad to avoid any potential battles.
After all, he may have power over humans and demons, but existence is far broader and stranger than just their little corner of it.
"Oh," he breathes. "Oh no."
Chloe shifts from polite to alarmed in a heartbeat. It's almost endearing. "Lucifer?"
"We should go." Lucifer hurries to step down, back onto the footpath, fighting the urge to wipe his shoes on the pavement, as if that will do anything to remove the phantom cold. "Just— Lunch! How about some lunch? There's this lovely little sandwich shop around the corner—"
Chloe steps back from the door, her hand drifting towards her gun, but doesn't come away. Stubborn, as always.
"If you want us to skip this, you'll need to tell me why—"
"Sure!" Anything to get her away from here. "How about over lunch?" He tries a smile; it makes her eyes narrow. "I'll even pay — my treat and all that. So if we could just—"
"If this is—" Decker looks around, her voice low. "If this is about your old job—"
"No! Well, sort of?" The last thing Lucifer wants is to cause offense. "They're not one of mine, but I did meet them — or someone similar — back then. But, really, I think we should go—"
"So soon?"
The voice comes from above. A young man, hanging out of the second storey window with a grin on his face. He looks human enough. He even has pillow marks on his face, his hair wild.
Lucifer knows better than to trust appearances. Especially when, even from this distance, he can feel the power thrumming in his form; can see the energy swirling in the being's eyes.
"Our apologies," Lucifer tries, giving the slightest bow. "We didn't mean to wake you. In fact, we should be on our way so you can get back to it—"
"Lucifer!" Decker hisses.
The man's grin is bright and just the other side of too wide. "Oh no, don't worry, this is far more entertaining. The devil and his detective — I wouldn't pass this up for the world."
Chloe, bless her brave little heart, pastes on her usual putting-suspects-at-ease smile.
"Sorry for waking you. We're looking for Danny Fenton?"
"That's me." Some of the mirth disappears. "Are you following up on the case?"
Chloe nods. "Yes. Sorry to bother you again, but we had a few more questions. Could we come in?"
"Detective!"
Chloe gives him a look. He pulls a face back at her, trying his hardest to communicate just how much he does not want to go in there. Or for her to go in there either. Especially not alone.
"Alright, one second."
The man in the window disappears; Chloe starts, falling back into scanning for his approach. Lucifer doesn't need to look though — he can feel the being blink closer, the biting cold of deep space radiating more strongly. When the front door opens, he isn't surprised — and Chloe does a decent enough job hiding her own jump.
"Come on in," the man — Fenton — says, waving them in. "We can talk in the kitchen. Coffee?"
As Chloe steps inside, declining the drink, Lucifer finds himself dithering for a moment. Only a moment though — if there's anything he fears more than stepping into the High King's haunt, it's letting the Detective step into it alone and unknowing.
After all, even if she's gotten used to playing with Heaven and Hell, the Infinite Realms are a whole other ballgame.