hatesparadise | Streets of Baltimore, Thursday

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Streets of Baltimore, Thursday

So, the trick to getting off the island, Danny was starting to feel, was to not try an escape. Because he went with the purpose of finding a shrink to talk to if he was going to be stuck here. And lo and behold, he was perfectly capable of getting to Baltimore.

Of course he was.

But his luck was still his luck. And it was probably amplified by the fact that Steve was around him once again. So, before he could even get inside the building, there was a body that landed right on a car parked off the street. Complete with car alarms going off and glass going everywhere.

Which was really gonna make hiring this therapist difficult, so he mentally crossed them off his list as he peered into the ruin of the car to check for a pulse and called the locals.

Danny Williams could not have nice things, no.

[for the murder mystery hungry celestial being]

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"Hands!" Danny snapped, having to move around Lucifer to train his gun on the guy. Geeze, did no one ever teach him to stay out of the line of fire?

Also, that pun was terrible.

Edited 2020-07-16 15:26 (UTC)

Why would he stay out of the line of fire around Detective Jersey? It wasn't like there was anyone on this coast who could make him bleed.

The man's hands shot up in the air. He looked terrified. The money fell to the ground--

Which is when the woman hiding in the other room sprinted off into the hallway. "Oh look," Lucifer enthused, "I guess it's time to run, Detective!"

Yeah, but common sense about gun safety!

"Goddamn it. This is your fault somehow," he hissed, holstering his gun to give chase. "Watch him!"

"Police officers. So high strung," Lucifer said, grinning. Did he wait until Danny was out of the room? Of course not. "So, do tell me about this friend of yours you just hurled out the window..."

The woman raced for the stairs, her brown hair bouncing.

"Are you a cop?" the guy before him asked, hands still raised in the air, but mostly out of vague confusion this time. Because the other guy? Definitely a cop.

Danny ran after her, taking a play out of Steve's book and hurling himself over the railing to get to her faster in a way that would make Steve super proud, but mostly just made Danny grimace in annoyance. Why did they always have to run? Why?

"Oh, no, I'm the Devil," Lucifer said, grinning, "And a night club owner. This is just a hobby." He gestured faintly to communicate the general concept of 'this'.

The woman looked over her shoulder, panicked. This wasn't fast enough! She hurled herself at the door onto the next floor-- "Why isn't it opening?!"

The confusion really wasn't going anywhere anytime soon with that, Lucifer. "What?"

"Low income housing," Danny snapped, zip-tie already out to tie her hands together once he got close enough to grab her arm. "That's a fire-code violation."

But it was pretty fortuitous for him.

"It doesn't matter. Would you mind telling me your relationship to the person who was just unceremoniously flung from your window?" Lucifer asked pleasantly.

"Let me go!" the woman yelled, trying to yank her arm away. "Let me go! I didn't do anything!"

"I don't even know the guy," Tweedle-dum blurted out. "Look, he wasn't supposed to even be here."

Danny rolled his eyes, tugging Tweedle-dee's arm behind her back to loop the tie around her wrist and grabbing the other one. "You were just running for cardio, right?"

"Not supposed to be here for what?" Lucifer asked pleasantly, grinning. "Your illicit drug deal gone horribly wrong, by any chance?"

It happened! A lot!

"I just-- I have my rights," she mumbled, feebly.

"Illicit what?" Look, this guy wasn't nearly the criminal mastermind you were hoping for here, Lucifer.

Danny pulled her along, taking them back to the apartment where he hoped to god that Lucifer hadn't fucked something up. "I'm going to ask you some questions and you're gonna answer them. You can remain silent, which is also one of your rights, but I'm gonna say that being caught red-handed will diminish the appeal of it."

"Your illicit drug deal, or whatever you were trying to pull here," Lucifer sighed. He brushed his jacket back. "What was it that you desired?"

Sorry, Danny. He was about to do some of that power stuff you were going to think was illegal.

Because it was!

"We were supposed to just grab his computer," Tweedle-Dum said just as Tweedle-Dee and Danny reappeared in the apartment. "The rest was just to make up for the effort, you know?"

Danny shot him such a look for somehow managing to get that out of the guy who looked decidedly more stoned and less scared than he had before.

People just liked to tell him things!

"And how did that somehow end in you punting some poor man out the window?" Lucifer asked. "Repressed rage issues?"

This was usually the point where Chloe interrupted him before he started leading the suspect too much.

Danny pushed his suspect down before going to zip-tie the other one before he got it in his head to run as well. "Answer the nice man."

Look, he'd worked with Steve for four years. And had plausible deniability for the magic bullshit.

"He wasn't supposed to be here," he said, submitting the the cuffing with moderate confusion and apathy. "We didn't mean to."

Edited 2020-07-16 17:17 (UTC)

"Right, a crime of passion it is, then," Lucifer sighed, leaning back. "I'd really hoped this would have been more interesting. Maybe a car chase, or at least a tense standoff at an airport."

"Sorry to disappoint," Danny replied dryly.

"It was self-defense," the woman chimed in, still looking at the floor sullenly. "All he had to do was let us take the computer."

Well, that held some potential for Lucifer's desperate need for a dramatic arrest. Because now Danny was looking around the place to find where a laptop had been dropped on the ground surrounded by pieces of the shattered plastic casing.

It had been months since Lucifer had last been able to step inside a criminal hide-out, grin, and yell something like 'Hello, Italian mobsters!', Danny. Months.

"Oooh, hiding something, was he?" Lucifer said, walking past them towards the window. There were traces of plastic there, and there, and-- "On the balcony. Of course."

He waved helpfully at the thing.

Please never got to Hawaii. The number of organized crime organizations there would keep him gleefully busy for ages.

"Ah! Gloves before you touch anything," Danny snapped. "And I'm gonna guess the crime lab here doesn't work nearly as fast as it does in Honolulu."

Meaning it worked at a normal rate where his cases weren't priority because TV show logic.

"Yes, it is unfortunate I can't call Miss Lopez to help us out on this, either," Lucifer said. And picked it up with his bare hands, because he lived to drive Ella to despair, and she wasn't here to slap his hands right now.

Danny sighed, looking at their two suspects.

"Who hired you?"

Maybe they'd be dumb enough to roll on them.

"Nobody!" yelled the guy at the same time the woman yelled "I don't know his name!"

"Well, isn't that convenient," Lucifer said cheerfully, stepping inside with the laptop.

"What did I literally just say about gloves?" Danny asked, hands on his hips like a pissed off housewife.

"I don't have any gloves, do you have gloves?" asked Lucifer, who had no intention of putting on any gloves up to and until a tiny cheerful Latina bullied him into it.

"No, I do not have gloves because I was not expecting to deal with a crime scene on my way to interview a therapist," he snapped. He was just lucky that he'd brought his service weapon and badge because he had an owl to interview after this.

One that he might be late for.

He was going to have to leave Steve a voicemail.

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