Chloe stood at the counter of her kitchen, spreading mustard on slices of bread. Her mind wondered for the umpteenth time why she had offered to make sandwiches for the precinct barbecue, but she had and was now stuck working on ham salad and chopped egg sandwiches as well as a pasta salad. Next to her, she tried not to stare at the hands working deftly at slicing the piece of meat she'd bought.
Lucifer had come over, looking to see if there was a case to work. He had started to speak when he stopped short and looked at the two dozen of slices of bread, only half of which had been smeared with mustard. Almost immediately and without asking, he'd shrugged off his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his forearms. Chloe did her best not to swoon at the sight of his sinewy arms as he walked over to her.
“Anything I can do to help?” he had asked and she had put him to work slicing the chunk of boiled ham to be put through the food processor. Without a question or comment, he'd set instantly to work; he removed the meat from the water and began carefully slicing off the skin.
Now, he was in the middle of cutting it into manageable chunks as she went to the fridge and brought out the mayonnaise and grabbed several jars of spices on the way. There was already an army of condiments on the counter, preparing everything she needed in advance. She was about to tell him that she'd take care of the ham from here on out since her processor could be temper-mental from time to time. Sometimes, it worked and sometimes, it required a gentle 'Fonzie-like' tap to get it going.
As she turned, she found Lucifer already had the meat inside along with some mayonnaise and mustard and he pushed the button. It didn't move. He looked down at the buttons and pressed back and forth between two.
“Lucifer, no!” she said, but it was too late; his rapid pushing of buttons started the machine too high and the lid flew off. A gob of mayonnaise flew out of the bowl and splattered on his white shirt, a fleck of ham stuck to it. As he smacked the lid back on as quickly as possible, more specks few from the reservoir and landed all over him. Grunting, he reached to the wall and yanked the plug from the outlet.
Chloe bit her lower lip as he stared at the processor, trying not to laugh at the sight of him spackled with food particulates. She snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth, but when she looked at him to double check, she cracked.
“You think this is funny, detective?” he asked, pinching the dirty shirt between two fingers. “This is Gucci!” he growled, and she laughed harder. “Oh, yes, very funny!” he drawled, swiping the gob of mayo off his shirt. “Here!” he said and dragged the cream over her nose.
“Lucifer!” she shrieked, thankful Trixie was spending the day with her father. She wiped it off and smeared it back into his own face and he froze there, staring at her. Pressing the back of her dirty hand to her mouth, she began to giggle at the sight of him with a big white gob on the tip of his nose. “Now, that's funny!” she laughed.
Until her face was met with a piece of the mustard-covered bread. He'd taken a slice and slid it down her face, her cheeks yellow and her gasp loud. She stared at him as he stared back, his hands on his waist in a you think you're so smart! kind of stance.
“You know this means war?” she asked quietly and his eyes narrowed. Before she could move or take a breath, Lucifer wrapped his arm around her waist and pinned her against him while he reached for the container of mayonnaise and palmed a handful. Then, still holding her, he smooshed it into her face, catching some of her hair in the process. Needing to defend herself, she reached out and wrapped her hand around an open jar of relish and, without really looked, lifted it and dumped it over her shoulder.
