[Dr. Linda Martin's Office]
Linda sat in the armchair across from the couch with her notebook balanced over one knee. Her posture remained professional, though the way her fingers tightened around the pen betrayed how much effort that required whenever Lucifer looked directly at her.
"So, you're the Devil," Linda said, keeping her expression neutral.
Lucifer sat back against the couch. "That's the thing, Doctor. I know I'm the Devil right now, but before I was the Devil, I used to be a regular human like you in another world. I died and woke up as the Devil. Every now and then, I have these moments where I'm filled with so much rage that I act on pure impulse."
Linda's pen paused above the page. Her first instinct was to classify the statement as a delusion built around identity and trauma, though the man across from her spoke with unsettling certainty. "You believe you lived an entirely different life before becoming Lucifer Morningstar?"
Lucifer glanced toward the window before looking back at her. "I don't merely believe it. I remember crowded buses, unpaid bills, awful managers, and working two miserable jobs just to remain poor. Then a manhole cover ended my existence, and I woke up with millions of years of celestial memories inside my head."
Linda uncrossed her legs before crossing them again. The movement was quick and restless, and her grip tightened around the pen when Lucifer's gaze followed it. "That sounds overwhelming. You're carrying the memories of two identities, and both experienced powerlessness."
Lucifer's playful smile faded slightly. "Human me couldn't control anything. Devil me can control almost everything, except those flashes of anger. When they come, I stop thinking about consequences. I only want the person responsible to suffer."
Linda leaned forward, bringing herself closer than necessary before forcing her attention away from his cologne. "What usually triggers those moments?"
"People hurting someone who doesn't deserve it," Lucifer replied. "Betrayal, cruelty, corruption, and people escaping punishment because the law is too slow or weak. Something ancient inside me wants to tear through every restraint I have."
Linda wrote a few words, though her handwriting had become less precise. "You describe the rage as something separate from yourself, but you still choose what happens afterward. Impulses can feel overwhelming without removing responsibility."
Lucifer studied her with renewed interest. "So, you're saying the Devil should learn self-control."
"I'm saying the man sitting on my couch should understand what his anger is protecting," Linda replied. She swallowed when his eyes settled fully on hers, and her fingers tightened around the notebook. "Rage often covers fear, grief, shame, or helplessness. You may react so strongly because part of you remembers having no power."
Lucifer's expression grew quieter. "Now that I have power, I'm terrified of failing to use it when someone needs me."
Linda nodded with quiet understanding. "That sounds closer to the truth."
Silence settled between them while Lucifer watched her with an intensity that made Linda's professional composure harder to maintain. She pressed her knees together, adjusted the collar of her blouse, and tried to focus on the breakthrough instead of the warmth beneath her skin.
Lucifer smiled when he noticed her struggle. "You're doing remarkably well, Doctor, considering what you truly desire right now."
Linda placed the notebook aside and stood from the chair. "I think we've made enough progress for one session."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow as Linda began unbuttoning her shirt while walking toward the couch. "Have we truly made enough progress?"
"Yes, we did. I now know something about you and you understood what you must do or atleast try..." She took off her shirt and threw it on the floor. She was wearing a blue bra. "So, I call it progress. Now..." She rubbed her palm and gave him a knowing smile.
Lucifer looked at her body as he got hard. "Well, I guess it's payment time."
Linda quickly walked over and jumped into his arms. "Yaaeey!" She pushed him down on the couch before saddling him and began kissing him without wasting any time.
...
...[Chloe's apartment]...
For the past two weeks, Chloe had tried to treat Lucifer Morningstar like any other problem she could eventually solve with enough evidence, patience, and coffee.
The effort wasn't working at all.
Since leaving the hospital, she had replayed the shooting inside the recording studio so many times that the memory had begun to feel sharper than reality. Jimmy Barnes raising the gun. Lucifer stepping into the line of fire. Six bullets striking him from only a few feet away while his body barely moved beneath the impact.
Then Lucifer walked away without any injuries.
There had been no blood, bruising, or stiffness hidden beneath that tailored suit. He hadn't struggled to breathe or even touched the places where the bullets struck him. He had simply stood there, furious about Chloe getting hurt, as though six close-range shots were nothing more than rain hitting a window.
Body armor couldn't explain that.
Even the best vest would've absorbed the bullets while transferring enough force to leave deep bruises, cracked ribs, or internal damage. Lucifer should've needed medical attention. Instead, he had sat beside her hospital bed, looking smug and completely unharmed.
That left Chloe with explanations she didn't like.
Maybe Lucifer had arranged some elaborate trick, or she might've hallucinated after getting shot. The final possibility sat in the back of her mind like an unwelcome guest refusing to leave.
Lucifer had been telling the truth.
Every rational part of Chloe rejected that conclusion. The Devil didn't own a nightclub in Los Angeles, drive a vintage Corvette, and interrupt police investigations while flirting with everyone in sight. Immortal celestial beings belonged in religious texts and bad television, not homicide cases.
Yet normal men didn't survive what she had witnessed.
Chloe even did a background check on him. And she was really surprised.
'Lucifer Morningstar' is indeed his legal name and he has absolutely no records, history, or paper trail existing prior to five years ago.
By early evening, Chloe had reached the point where thinking without acting felt useless. She decided she would visit Lux, get close to Lucifer, and find something solid enough to either expose his trick.
Warm water streamed over her shoulders as she stood beneath the shower, one hand resting against the tiled wall while steam gathered across the glass.
Going into Lux as a detective would immediately put Lucifer on guard. He enjoyed attention too much to avoid her, though he would turn every question into flirting, jokes, or another speech about immortality. She needed him to be relaxed enough to reveal something without realizing she was investigating him.
Chloe closed her eyes as water ran through her hair.
She could pretend she was only visiting to thank him properly. That excuse was reasonable since he had saved her life. She could accept a drink, ask casual questions, then slowly get close to him while pretending to fall for his charm and...
Chloe turned off the water and reached for a towel. After wiping, she walked out and went straight to the sink mirror. She looked at her face. She turned her head around and touched her cheeks. Then she opened the towel and looked at her breasts.
"Humm..."
She squeezed her arms together to make them pop out a bit more.
"Still got it. Seduction it is. I'm gonna find out your little trick, Mr. Morningstar."
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