Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucy

Lucy stepped into Chris’s kitchen, freshly showered and anxious to head into the precinct.

She didn’t like staying over at Chris’s place anymore, especially since she’d gotten back from UC school.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but lately, everything he did irritated her and it was exasperated when she was in his space instead of her own. It didn’t help that the forced smile she plastered on her face when she was around him made her cheeks sore.

Chris smiled as she walked up and handed her a coffee cup. 

“What’s this?” Lucy took a sip from the white foam. 

“Your favorite,” Chris said proudly, wiggling his brows. “I whipped up a caramel macchiato with the new Nespresso.” 

“Oh, thank you,” Lucy nodded politely, her cheek already throbbing, and took another sip. “This is the perfect start to the morning.”

Except for the fact that she’d never once ordered a caramel macchiato in front of Chris, and it definitely wasn’t her favorite drink. 

“You know, if you’d just move in with me, I could make you your favorite latte every morning.” He winked and sauntered closer to her, taking hold of her elbows and drawing her in.

She playfully batted him away. At least she hoped it seemed playful...

“I told you, I’m not ready for that,” she said in a sugar sweet tone. A tickle of anxiety danced on the back of her neck. 

“You can’t blame a guy for trying, huh?” Chris squeezed her arm before releasing her. He always took her rejection in stride with the same delusional grin on his face.  

He nabbed his briefcase from the counter. 

“About ready to head out?” He nodded toward the door.

Lucy nodded. 

She knew she should be ready to take the next step with Chris. Not moving in with him per se ... but something else that would indicate she was serious about him. She still couldn’t bring herself to introduce him to her parents. She’d already met his folks (under the worst of circumstances), and had since suffered through three dinners with them. They’d reminded her a little too much of her own parents when they’d asked her about police work and were wholly unimpressed with her chosen vocation. 

But that wasn’t the only reason she hadn’t taken the next step with Chris.

No, that would be her inability to truly let Tim go. 

He was still the person she thought of right before falling asleep, and the first image in her mind when she woke each morning. 

It drove her crazy. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

She thought if she just gave it enough time, the feelings would go away but they teased at the corner of her mind, becoming more pervasive anytime she spent time with him. And now that they were on friendly terms again, her heart swelled every time he smiled at her. 

And that smile? What a bunch of bullshit. No one should have that nice of a smile on that symmetrical of a face. And those biceps? What the hell! The least he could do was let himself go for a bit so she could rein in her biological response to him.

Was that so much to ask? 

Speaking of biology …

Her mind flickered back to him in the airplane bathroom and how his warm hands had felt on her waist, moving up her back and over her shoulders as he sucked on her bottom lip … 

He told you to move on. She reminded herself sternly and snapped out of the memory.

And God, she was trying. Chris was, by all measures, the safer bet. 

For one: dating Chris has had no impact on her career. 

Two: he’s shown her how much he cares about her and how much he wants her to be a big part of his life. 

Three: They’ve bonded over the same shows, which has been a huge bonus for the nights she's wanted to veg out on the couch. 

Four …

Shit . She racked her brain. She had two more items on her mental checklist. What were they? 

“You know,” Chris started toward the door after she set the mug down on the counter. He rested his hand on the small of her back. “I chatted with Tamara about it. She’d be okay moving into the dorms on campus. You don’t need to keep your place for her. She’d be fine.”

Lucy spun on her heels and blinked up at Chris.

“What?” She asked. 

He’d gone to Tamara about their living situation. 

Behind her back. 

God, she cringed internally. How had that made Tamara feel? She already wasn’t the biggest fan of Chris. 

“You’ve done so much to help her, Lucy,” Chris said in what she assumed he considered a reassuring tone. “She’s in a good spot now and she’s an adult, you don’t need to take care of her.”

“Do you think I feel obligated to take care of Tamara?” Lucy asked, keeping her tone even.

“Sure,” Chris shrugged. “You met her when she was in a bad spot and being the kind person you are, you helped her get back on track.”

“And now she’s fine because she’s ‘on track’?” Lucy used her fingers to create air quotes. 

“I’d say so,” Chris chuckled. “4.0 GPA at one of the best public schools in the state? She’s more than fine.” 

He thought a good GPA meant she should free herself of Tamara? Like that was all that mattered to her?

What about the trauma Tamara had experienced from losing her parents and then being saddled with a relative who would rather see her on the streets than provide a warm bed for her to sleep in at night? What about the support Tamara had given Lucy during one of the most difficult periods of her adult life after Jackson died? Not to mention, Tamara had been grieving yet another loss herself at the time. 

He had no idea how deep their bond went.

“I love her like family,” Lucy tried to explain. “We’re a package deal.”

Chris’s lips formed a thin line as he paused.

“And you don’t love me?” He asked after a beat.

A bead of sweat formed on the back of Lucy’s neck. 

“Chris–”

“It shocks me how easy it was for you to say the ‘L’ word out loud like that when I’ve been hoping you’d say it back to me for months.”

Lucy looked down at her feet and closed her eyes for the briefest moment to collect herself.

“You can’t force my feelings into a timeline,” she said as calmly as she could manage. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. 

“I know that,” Chris sighed. “I’ve been patient, haven’t I? But seriously, I hope that someday you and I can get married and start a family. Are you seriously saying that you’re planning to bring her along for all of that?”

He chuckled softly like the idea was absurd.

“Yes,” Lucy replied without hesitation. Tamara’s like a sister to her. She would do anything for her and she knew Tamara reciprocated that loyalty and affection without a second thought.

“Just think about it,” Chris said flatly. He patted her hand and reached for the door.

“You always say that,” Lucy tilted her head to the side and barely held back an eye roll.

“Say what?” He asked, this time impatiently. If he thought this conversation was over, he was wrong. 

“Every time I say something you disagree with, you tell me to think about it,” Lucy pointed out. God, she hated when he did that. It made her feel like her opinions and views didn't matter. “I’m not changing my mind about Tamara. She’s family.”

“She’s not your family,” Chris corrected her, his voice cold. “Not that I’m one to talk since I’ve never met your family.”

Okay, so this is happening. Lucy thought as her blood pressure started to climb at the snarkiness in his tone. 

“You’ve met the people most important to me,” Lucy said. “There’s the family you’re born with and the one you choose.” 

“And I’m asking you to choose me!” Chris requested earnestly.

“Over Tamara?” Lucy asked with a shake of her head. “You can’t ask me to do that.”

“I’m just telling you what I want so that we can be on the same page,” Chris said.

The same page… Have we ever been on the same page?

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. 

"It's like you don't get me at all," Lucy replied quietly.

"Lucy -" Chris started.

"This isn't working." Lucy interrupted him. "We've been together for a year and I still feel like you're trying to fit me into the mold of this version of me you have in your head." 

"Come on," Chris pleaded. "That's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair," Lucy agreed. She turned toward the bedroom. 

“Where are you going?” Chris’s arms fell to his side as he stood near the door, dumbfounded. 

“I’m grabbing the rest of my things.” Lucy unzipped her backpack and shoved the extra set of pajamas she left in his dresser inside. She walked over to the bathroom, grabbing the travel-size toiletries she'd left on the counter. This should be incredibly awkward, and sure, it was, but it was also liberating. “It’ll save you the trouble of bringing them to me later.” 

“Lucy.” Chris held his hands up as she met him back in the doorway. “What the hell just happened?” 

“We broke up,” Lucy swallowed but made a point to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry I’m never going to be the girl you want me to be. You’re free now to go out and find her and I hope she makes you really happy.” 

Lucy stepped around him and walked out the door, not stopping to look back.

Chapter Text

Tim

“Chen, you’re with Bradford today,” Grey commanded at the end of roll call. 

Tim flipped his palms up. This was news to him. 

“I am?” Lucy asked, choking on her words as the rest of the officers filed out of the room, Thorsen included. 

Grey nodded. Lucy stood up stiffly.

Shit. Tim realized. She doesn’t want to ride with me.

“What’s wrong with Thorsen?” Tim asked. If she didn’t want to ride with him, he’d get her out of it.

“Thorsen is on loan to Harper today,” Grey said, looking back down at the paper on his podium. 

“Interesting,” Lucy mumbled, the pitch of her voice slightly off.

Tim squinted at Grey, curious why the more tenured sergeant didn’t let him choose his aide. 

“Why didn’t Harper want Chen?” Tim asked. Thorsen’s been his aide for months now and always told him ahead of roll call when he wanted to switch things up. Had the incident with his young CI last week put a bigger rift in their professional relationship than he realized? 

“Because she asked for Thorsen.” Grey tossed back impatiently.  “Is there some reason you two can’t ride together?”

“Nope. We can ride together,” Lucy swallowed. “Why not? Right?” 

“Right,” Tim agreed with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We rode together for years. It’s like riding a bike, I’m sure.”

Tim swept his arm through the air before dropping it awkwardly. He’d made the same motion in front of Lucy’s door when he’d told her what happens undercover, stays undercover.

Maybe no one noticed. Tim glanced at Lucy from the corner of his eye. 

She bit down on her lip to hold in a laugh.

Shit.

“Uh huh,” Grey’s eyes shifted between the two of them. “So are you going to hit the streets or…?” 

“Yeah, yes.” Lucy cleared her throat. “I’ll get the war bags… Sir.” 

“Thank you, Officer Chen,” Tim replied in an official tone.

Lucy rushed off to the kit room. Tim turned toward Grey with a question on his lips only to find him staring down at him like a hawk. 

Fuck.

“I’m going to have questions for you later,” Grey warned Tim. 

“There’s no need for that,” Tim said, making a split-second decision to stick with denial. 

Deny. Deny. Deny. He repeated silently in his head.

Grey rolled his eyes impatiently.

“Get out on patrol, Sergeant.” Grey flicked his hand and shook his head. 

* * *

Tim opened his door and stepped out of the shop. He was surprised Lucy hadn’t said anything when he suggested stopping by her favorite coffee truck. She just nodded like she was barely listening.

When he turned to close his door, he noticed Lucy didn’t budge.

“Are you coming?” He asked, sticking his head back in.

“No, I’m good,” Lucy smiled thinly.

“Okay… I’ll be right back,” Tim narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t press it. It wasn’t like he’d driven them to Lucy’s favorite spot for his benefit. She’d never turned down a chance to visit it before. In fact, over the years they’d bickered more times than he could count about not having enough time in the morning to stop here on their way out to patrol.

She’s acting weird today. Right? He thought as he glanced back at the shop from the line. Or am I weird? Am I making her weird with my own weirdness? 

He ordered himself a black coffee and got Lucy a chai tea latte. He knew she’d drink it later if she didn’t want one now.

As he climbed back into the driver’s seat, he handed her the latte.

“Of course,” she mumbled as she examined the takeaway cup in her hand.

“What?” He asked, certain he’d misheard her.

“Nothing,” Lucy shook her head. She took a sip and sighed contently. “Thank you.”

He waited for her to elaborate but she didn’t. 

Tim rubbed the back of his neck.

Okay, then …

Well, at least she seemed a little happier.

She didn’t say anything for the next fifteen minutes.

He could count on one hand how many days they’d ridden together where she’d gone longer than five minutes without keeping the conversation flowing. 

Something was bothering her and he had a very bad feeling he was at the source of it.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

Only one way to find out.

“Okay,” he sighed heavily. “Spill it.”

“Spill what?” Lucy grumbled. 

“Clearly, I did something to piss you off. I’m racking my brain and can’t think of what I could have possibly done, so please enlighten me.”

“You didn’t piss me off,” she practically growled.

Oh sure, that was convincing.

He blew out a long breath as he changed lanes. 

He tried to remind himself that he usually preferred silence. 

But not today. Not when something was bothering Lucy and he couldn’t make it right without knowing what it was. 

“I broke up with Chris this morning,” Lucy said quietly after a few more minutes. 

“What?” Tim practically gave himself whiplash with how quickly he turned his head toward her.

Chill, man.  

Holy shit. 

Just fucking chill.

“I mean, I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “I should have done it a while ago. I guess I thought if I kept trying to make it work, eventually it would.” 

Tim nodded, understanding more than Lucy probably knew. He’d gone through the motions with Ashley for weeks after the undercover op. If she hadn’t broken up with him after his surgery, hell, he’d probably still be with her. 

And now, he couldn’t be more grateful that she ended things. He’d been in desperate denial about his future with Ashley. Or lack thereof. Now when he thought of his life a few years down the line, there was always a petite, spunky cop by his side. 

Tim knew Sanford wasn’t right for her, and while the last several weeks had been hell watching them together, he was certain Lucy would figure that out. 

And Tim was willing to wait. 

To an extent. 

If they moved in together or God forbid, got engaged, he would have had to figure out some ridiculous scheme with Angela. And wow, was he relieved it hadn’t come to that. Just thinking about it nearly gave him hives.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tim prodded.

“I don’t know,” Lucy mumbled. “I’m still processing that he seemed to have everything I needed but isn’t the one I wanted.” 

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye before staring straight again.

What did she mean by that? ‘The one I wanted.’

She couldn’t possibly mean…

He swallowed nervously.

“Breakups suck,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Wow, Bradford. Profound. “But you made the right choice. You deserve to get everything you need and be with the one that you want.”

“You can only be with the one that you want if they want you back,” she said pointedly. 

She doesn’t mean me, does she? How could she possibly think I don’t want her after I followed her inside? 

He only backed off so she could take care of Sanford. 

But then she stayed with Sanford, and he thought they’d missed their window. He focused on supporting her from afar by encouraging her to go to UC school because she was already so talented. For a while, he convinced himself that they just weren’t meant to be. That letting her go was the right thing to do.

Afterall, it seemed like a pretty loud sign from the universe to find Sanford in her apartment that way, on that day. 

So he decided to try and work things out with Ashley. And Lucy did the same with Sanford. 

No wonder Angela thought they were both idiots.  

“Any man who doesn’t want you back has lost his mind.” Tim assured her. There was no way he was letting her doubt that. 

“Unless they tell you to move on, right?” Lucy leaned forward, her brows drawn together in confusion.

“Sanford told you to move on?” Tim guessed, feeling like he was missing a key piece of context. 

“You told me to move on.” The pain in her tone cut right through his chest. “I’ve been trying to. It’s not as easy for me as it is for you.”

“Wait, no.” Tim shook his head. Had she been carrying that belief around for months? “I was talking about your career when I said that. Not about—“

“7-Adam-100 do you copy?” The radio chirped. 

Lucy looked at the radio expectantly and rolled her eyes. The old Tim would have changed the subject and diverted their conversation back to work, but the old Tim didn’t think a future was possible with Lucy. For the first time in a long time, he had a glimmer of hope.

“I wasn’t talking about us when I said that, Lucy,” he told her boldly. “That wasn’t about our friendship, or whatever else we are or could be.” 

Lucy’s lips parted in surprise as she looked over at him. He met her gaze as he lifted the radio to his mouth, willing her to understand how serious he was.

“Go for 7-Adam-100.”

When her gaze flickered down to his lips, warmth filled his chest. 

There was that pesky hope again… 

Lucy shook her head and started typing into the computer as dispatch read off instructions. 

For an outsider looking in, it would appear that they were both back to business.

But that’s because an outsider wouldn’t know what to look for. 

Tim saw how she sat a little straighter with more confidence in her shoulders. There was also the slightest tinge of pink in her cheeks and the tiniest of smiles at the corner of her lips. God, he’d missed her.

How many times over the past few months had he thought about spending his days with her again? Today was a gift and having her by his side filled holes in his soul he hadn't known existed.

It made him crave more. 

So much more.

He wanted her days, her nights, her weekends, all of it ... He wanted Her.

Once he was done with Dispatch, Tim set the radio back in the dock.

“Lucy–” 

“7-Adam-100, go to channel 9.” Grey’s voice crackled over the radio. 

“Mother fuck-” Tim muttered under his breath and tilted his head back against his seat. This time Lucy picked up the radio.

“Go for 7-Adam-100,” Lucy said, not bothering to hide her smile this time. She always did find amusement in his irritation. 

It was her first carefree smile of the day and she looked so fucking beautiful that heat spread through his abdomen. That smile was meant for him, and only him. 

And it didn't last nearly long enough.

Because her smile dropped away the second they both heard Grey utter the words collar bomb.

Chapter Text

Lucy

“I know we need to focus right now, but let’s plan to finish that conversation later,” Lucy said as she pulled up 7-Adam-15’s GPS location on her LAPD phone. She held it near the center console so Tim could easily see it as he drove in their direction.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Tim said before he lifted the radio to his mouth to coordinate with Grey. The way he held her eye contact made her cheeks flush with anticipation. 

Who is this man and what has he done with Tim Bradford? 

She ran through the likely scenarios.

Alien abduction? 

Possession? 

It had to be, right? 

The shift in his behavior caught her off guard. Sure, he’d opened up to her more and more over the years, but she was certain all of his walls had gone back up after they found Chris in her apartment. To be honest, she’d given up hope on any future with him beyond friendship.

His words rang in her head: whatever else we are or could be…

Is he really ready to be more than friends? She wondered.

Am I?

She was having a hard time pinpointing whether she was nervous, excited, or terrified.

Probably a mixture of all three. 

But she really needed to set that aside for now to support their squad.

Grey reported that Nolan and Celina were assisting a driver who was forced into wearing a collar bomb by an unidentified suspect. The driver said if she stopped, the bomber would set it off. They had no way to verify if that would actually happen without risking the driver and other lives. 

She had a terrible feeling. There was too much they didn’t know yet. 

Lucy listened as Tim listed out instructions for the multi-division operation to keep the bomb from going off in a populated area. A movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. A car was driving at the same speed next to their shop. 

Civilians typically gave police vehicles plenty of space, nervous they might get pulled over if they drove as fast or faster than an officer. 

Lucy glanced at the driver and then quickly did a double take.

A panicked man stared at her with a bomb strapped around his neck. 

“Tim,” Lucy said calmly, touching his forearm lightly.

Tim glanced over and then leaned forward to see what she was looking at. 

“Shit,” Tim muttered. He quickly radioed the team that they had another bomb. 

“Sir–” Lucy started to say.

“I can’t stop or call the cops, he said he’d know if I called. And if I stopped, the bomb would go off–”

“My name is Lucy Chen,” she tried to interrupt the panic attack the man was on the verge of having. “I’m going to help you, ok? What’s your name?” 

“Uh, Paul,” the man whimpered. “P-Paul Graham.” 

“Paul, who put that collar on you?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know, he was wearing a mask.” Paul’s anxiety was palpable as he struggled to get each word out. 

“What else was he wearing?” Lucy prodded.

Lucy typed the limited description of the man Paul saw into the console so that other officers could be on the lookout. 

“Paul, I want you to keep the car steady and keep driving. I’m going to take a few photos of the collar so we can figure out how to get this thing off of you, okay?”

“Okay,” Paul nodded. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he looked straight ahead. 

“Get me a little closer,” Lucy told Tim and he adjusted accordingly, shooting her a worried look. 

She leaned out of the window until she could reach Paul, taking several close up photos of the bomb before carefully rotating the collar so they could get every angle. 

“Where were you when this happened?” Lucy asked as she carefully palpitated the sides she couldn’t see, relieved when all she found was smooth metal.

“The gas station off of Melrose,” he said.

“Do you remember the cross street?” Lucy glanced at the driver's console and her heart caught in her throat. His empty light was on. The bomber must have slapped the collar on Paul before he could fill up. 

“H-Highland, I think?” He stuttered back nervously.

Sitting back in her seat, she turned to Tim, who was already ordering a unit to get to the gas station for the security footage and grid search.

“His empty light is on,” Lucy whispered to Tim when he was done.

He discreetly radioed Grey about the empty gas tank so they could find a place to direct the car to minimize casualties. Lucy turned the volume of the radio down so that Paul wouldn’t be able to hear Grey’s response. 

The air grew thick in the shop, despite having the windows open. She knew Tim was thinking the same thing. If the car ran out of gas while they were next to it, chances were all three of them would be killed. 

She quickly loaded the photos into the feed for the bomb squad and tech team to examine. As soon as she finished typing, Tim reached over and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through her own. He squeezed her hand three times before looking back to the road, and she felt tears threaten to water over. 

She couldn’t believe he remembered. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she recalled the bet she’d won years ago, back when she was a P1 and he was her TO. As a result, she forced him to listen to Taylor Swift albums over and over in the shop for an entire week and analyze the lyrics with her. When they got to the end of Reputation and ‘you squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi’ played softly over their shop speakers, he’d been the one to point out the significance of the three pulses:

I love you.

Of course, she’d teased him mercilessly at the time, overjoyed that he’d participated in her little game and for actually being a good sport instead of a sore loser. 

She squeezed his hand three times back, hoping it wasn’t just a coincidence and willing him to understand. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he spared a glance back to her. The yearning in his eyes was almost enough to undo her. 

“7-Adam-100,” Grey’s muted crackle sounded over the air. “We’ve almost cleared a path to La Cienega Park but you need to slow that driver down so we can get more civilians off of Olympic.”

Tim released her hand so he could radio Grey back. 

“Paul?” Lucy asked and the driver looked over at her. “We need you to slow down to buy us more time to help you.”

“I c-can do that,” Paul stammered. 

“We’re working to get our bomb team to La Cienega Park,” Lucy told him. “Do you know where that is?” 

Paul nodded.  

In the distance the rumble of thunder sounded, reverberating through the air and contradicting the sun shining in the warm LA sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. 

Lucy’s heart pounded in her throat. That could only mean one thing.

“What’s the status of 7-Adam-15’s driver?” Tim requested into the radio, reading Lucy’s mind. 

The seconds ticked by. 

Lucy wanted to lean her head back against her seat, close her eyes and take a few calming breaths, but Paul kept glancing at her and she didn’t want to freak him out any more than he already was. She worked to keep her expression neutral, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, silently praying that Nolan and Celina were okay.

Chapter Text

Tim

As soon as Grey got word to them that Nolan and Celina were okay, Tim released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Lucy called Grey and put him on speaker so they could coordinate an action plan to avoid the same outcome. They’d lost the other driver and it made Tim’s skin crawl knowing at any moment the car next to them could run out of gas and explode. 

The bomb tech had been approaching the vehicle when it blew. According to Grey, he was alive when the ambulance took off for the hospital and was expected to pull through.

“The techs are working as quickly as they can,” Grey informed them. “They’re piecing together the device as we speak. So far, they haven’t found anything to indicate anything else was in the vehicle.” 

“So if we can get him into our shop and keep driving, that will buy us more time?” Tim asked, checking on Lucy from the corner of his eye. 

He didn't love the idea of having the bomb in the same vehicle as her, but they had a duty to protect and serve and he knew without a doubt she would do everything in her power to save Paul's life. 

“That’s the working theory,” Grey confirmed. “We reviewed the dashboard camera and it was right around the minute mark from the time the car stopped to when the bomb went off.” 

“Do the bomb techs know how to disarm it yet?” Tim asked. 

If they stopped the cars at the same time, Paul and Lucy could easily climb in the backseat and work on disarming the bomb while Tim kept driving. 

“From the scraps at the site, and the photos Chen took, they have a pretty good idea. The Sergeant is sending the metro unit your way, but Tim,” Grey sighed. “We’re spread thin. We’ve got units on Olympic clearing out the park for you, and even more on high alert for another bomb out on the streets and traffic is bad. It’ll take a while for the bomb unit to make it across town.”

“Can someone walk us through it?” Lucy asked. As always, she was on the same page as him. 

“Yes,” Grey said. “Sergeant Sherman.”

“Okay, get him on the phone,” Tim requested and nodded to Lucy. “Let’s stop at the next light and get the two of you situated in the back seat.” 

Lucy turned to Paul and let him know what to do. 

When Tim stopped the shop, he tensed as Paul exited his vehicle. He was an older man, probably in his early sixties, and from the look in his eyes, he was scared out of his mind.

Lucy jumped out of the passenger seat, popped open the back door for Paul and then opened the trunk to grab their toolkit. She climbed in beside Paul and Tim gradually stepped back on the gas pedal to get them moving. 

“Thank you for helping me,” Paul said earnestly. “I know you’re putting your own lives at risk, so thank you.” 

“We’re all going to make it out of this, Paul. No thanks necessary,” Lucy assured him with an easy smile. She always seemed to know what other people needed to hear in moments of crisis. 

Lucy’s cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket to answer. She flipped the call to Facetime so the bomb technician on the other end of the line could see them. 

“Hi, Paul. I’m Sergeant Sherman from the LAPD bomb unit,” Sherman said through the screen. “I’ve got my team on their way to you but I’m going to help in the meantime so that hopefully you don’t need them once they arrive. Sound good?”

“Sure. Thanks,” Paul said, his voice small.

“Alright, Officer Chen…”

Sherman walked Lucy through which tools were going to be most helpful and a series of safety tips for handling a live device, all of which were familiar to Tim from his time in the military. Sherman had her look for the panel he’d seen in her photos and pry it open with the screwdriver. 

“Ok. What’s next?” Lucy asked, tilting the camera lens into the opening. 

There was a pause. The hair stood up on the back of Tim’s neck when Sherman sighed. 

He glanced at them through the rearview mirror.

“I was hoping we’d be able to see more once you lifted that panel,” Sherman said. 

That was not the vote of confidence he’d been looking for.

Where was this guy’s fucking bedside manner?

Lucy was handling a live bomb and he couldn’t hold back his goddamn sigh? 

His knuckles went white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“What should I be looking for?” Lucy asked, showing so much more patience than Tim could fathom. “I see a skinny rectangular box under the panel and there’s a chip here.”

“Okay, let’s focus on the chip,” Sherman said, “shine your flashlight there so I can see better. Do you see any mechanism that might be spring loaded?”

“No,” Lucy shook her head. “It seems to be laying flat in the slot.”

“Go ahead and remove it with the precision pliers.”

Tim held his breath as Lucy’s steady hand manipulated the pliers with ease.

“Done,” Lucy slipped the chip into her breast pocket.

“Before we continue, you should know we haven’t found every piece of the bomb at this site yet,” Sherman said.

“I know,” Lucy acknowledged. “But spell it out for me. What’s the problem?”

“We can’t tell if there’s a hairpin trigger. Something that would set off the bomb if you try to rotate the compartment in the tube, or if you unclasp the hinge. Given the location of the inner compartment, my guess is the wires are exposed under the hinge and unclasping it would give you access to clip the red wire and deactivate the explosives.”

Tim didn't like the sound of that. They were still guessing and the wrong one would kill all three of them in the blink of an eye.

“From what you’ve recovered, what are our odds there’s some sort of fail safe built in?” Tim raised his voice so it could be heard through the speaker. 

 “50/50. This device is sophisticated,” Sherman told them. “From the design, it appears the bomber threaded the wiring through the tube right before snapping the collar together, meaning he could have threaded a fail safe when he placed it around Paul’s neck.”

Tim temporarily saw white as the entire world dropped from around him. 

Absolutely not.

There was no fucking way he was betting Lucy’s life on 50/50 odds. 

“Before we do anything, what would we need to do to get it open?” Tim kept his voice steady but Lucy was quick to catch on. 

Sherman rattled off the instructions and Tim repeated them back to make sure he fully understood them. 

Lucy muted the call.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lucy whispered to Tim as if Paul couldn’t hear every syllable. 

“I can do that in under a minute,” Tim told her. “We’re almost to La Cienega.” 

“So can I,” Lucy replied slowly. “What difference does it make?”

“One life,” Paul interjected quietly. “There’s no reason all three of us have to die if it doesn’t work.”

“No one is going to die,” Lucy said, but she swallowed audibly when she looked back at Tim. “But when we pull up, you should go. I’ve got this.”

“No,” Tim shook his head. “I have more explosives training than you.”

“We just received the same exact instructions,” Lucy shot back, showing frustration for the first time since this madness began. “It doesn’t matter how much training you’ve had. It’s either going to work or it isn’t.”

“We don’t have time to argue about this and even if we did, this is non-negotiable.” Tim didn’t bother to hide his own aggravation. He would not let Lucy die.

“Non-negotiable?” Lucy snapped back.

“If the choice is between you or me, I’m choosing you every time.” The words tumbled out of his mouth like an oath and he made sure to meet Lucy’s eye in the mirror while he said them.

Paul looked between them and Tim could see the understanding washing over his face. 

“You can’t make this choice for me, Tim,” she pleaded, her eyes round with pain he hadn’t seen since West died.

It pierced his heart and he took a deep, steadying breath. He searched his mind for the right words to get her to save herself, because there was no reality in which he was leaving her with the bomb to die.

“You should go,” Paul surprised them both by backing him up. He looked at Lucy bashfully. “I’m sorry, but you’re my daughter’s age. If she were in this situation, I’d hope and pray someone would let her go. Thank you for everything you’ve done, but please go.”

Paul smiled kindly but there were tears in his eyes.

Lucy opened her mouth to protest but couldn’t seem to find the words. Tim knew she wasn’t ready to give in but they only had seconds left to figure this out. 

“I’m about to pull into the clearing and when I do, you’re getting out of this car and you’re running away from it as fast as you can.” Tim said firmly. 

She shook her head and his pulse started to race. 

He knew what he needed to do and she was going to hate him for it.

He closed his eyes for just a moment.

Fuck.

He had no choice.

Let her hate me.

“Officer Chen, that is a direct order,” he commanded, his tone deep and brusque.

She flinched when he pulled rank and used her official title, breaking their unspoken rule. 

But she bit her lip and nodded. 

He sighed in relief, letting the knots in his stomach loosen with the realization that Lucy would live. 

“If this goes south-” Lucy’s voice cracked and he felt his heart twist in his chest as he glanced back at her.  

She took a shaky breath as a tear escaped her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. 

“I will never forgive you,” she struggled to say each word.

“I know,” he said, his tone softer. There was so much more he wanted to say and he hoped the universe would grant him that time someday, but right now the most important thing was ensuring Lucy got out of the shop and to safety.

Tim pulled into the park and his anxiety was allayed when Lucy was out before he came to a full stop. 

He hurried to Paul and unmuted the phone, the clock ticking in the back of his mind. 

“Here goes nothing,” he said, mostly to himself.

He let Lucy’s words wash over him as he worked. 

Hate me all you want, he thought. As long as you're alive to do it.

Chapter Text

Lucy

Her lungs constricted tight in her chest as she ran back toward the street… but not from physical exertion. 

Nope.

It was the realization that three little words had been on the tip of her tongue. Words that Chris had asked her to say back to him so many times over the past year that she’d lost count. The words she’d never felt for him.

She felt them now, for another man, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them out loud when Tim had ordered her away.

I love you.

She repeated it over and over in her head as she ran, hoping he knew everything she hadn’t been able to say. 

Red hot tears burned her eyes and she forced herself to blink them away as half a dozen more patrol cars pulled up. She wiped her face and forced her expression to neutralize. She didn’t need any of these cops thinking she couldn’t handle the stress of a bomb scare.

Because her stress had nothing to do with the fact there was a bomb. It was the man, her person, near the bomb that was causing her insides to tie up in messy knots.

When officers started to hop out of their shops, she held up her hands to indicate they needed to stay back. 

She could feel her nerves bubbling up in her chest.

How could he send me away when this could be his last minute on Earth?

Her stomach turned as she remembered the tone of his voice when he commanded her to leave. She couldn’t shake it off.

She looked around and spotted Officer Jan from Midwilshire. Beside him, Nyla, Angela, and Aaron stood by their unmarked vehicle. Lucy made a beeline to them. 

She slipped a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she joined them and saw that her hand was shaking. She held it against her body. 

And then she realized her hand wasn’t the only thing that was shaking as a twinge of vertigo muddled her eyesight. 

Shit. Was she going to be sick? 

She swallowed with difficulty, trying to keep her bearings, and was thankful when no one said anything. Everyone’s eyes were peeled on Tim and Paul in the distance. 

His minute was almost up.

I love you. She repeated again like a mantra.

Nyla wrapped her arm around Lucy’s shoulders, maybe sensing that her knees were growing weak and Lucy looped an arm around Nyla’s waist for stability. 

Please, don’t take him from me. She looked up to the sky and prayed, tapping her foot on the ground.

All she could make out was Tim’s body in front of Paul’s. There was no way to see how it was going from this far away. 

Her throat burned as she held back her tears. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She. Could. Not. Lose. Him. Especially not now when she felt like she’d just gotten him back.

Tim Bradford, you better freaking survive this because I don’t know how to exist in this world without you in it. She screamed at him in her head.

She took in a shaky breath but her lungs didn’t fill.

No, not now, she protested, feeling the panic attack building in her chest. 

Nyla squeezed her shoulders and rubbed her arm. Lucy leaned into her warmth, breathing out through clenched teeth and attempting to ground herself in her other four senses. 

She heard the armored vehicle pull up behind them and seconds later a technician hopped out in full gear, quickly making their way toward Tim and Paul.

Lucy blinked, not sure she could trust her eyes. How much time had passed?

Tim and Paul were jogging toward the line of patrol cars.

She squinted and couldn’t see anything around Paul’s neck. 

Why isn’t anyone saying anything? Lucy looked around. Was she experiencing a full-blown mirage or hallucination? 

Just as quickly as the thought passed through her mind, it was over. The crowd broke out in applause, confirming that everyone else was experiencing her reality, and Lucy waited for the relief to wash over her. 

But it didn’t come. 

It was over. Why didn’t it feel over?

No, she wasn’t relieved.

But a stronger emotion pushed to the forefront, easing the panic in her chest.

Rage.

She was pretty sure Angela asked her something, but she was too distracted by her thoughts to ask her to repeat the question.

How dare he put her in this situation? If hell existed, she couldn’t imagine anything worse than staring off into the distance, waiting to see if the most important person in your world dissipated into unrecognizable pieces.

She glared as Tim and Paul reached the street, and Tim guided Paul to an ambulance that had been standing by.

Tim turned his head, searching the crowd. When he found her, she dropped her gaze to the ground. 

She couldn’t look at him. Not when she was so beyond angry that she couldn’t even name the emotion. 

Fuck you, Tim Bradford. 

Fuck. You.

She took a steadying breath, and this time her lungs allowed some of the oxygen in. 

“Hey, Jan,” Lucy turned to her left and let go of Nyla. “Can you take me back to the station? I need to get started on the report while it’s still fresh.”

She saw Officer Jan glance past her shoulder at their colleagues with his brows raised. Lucy could see Tim walking over to them. She needed to get out of there before he reached them. 

“Right now?” He asked. “Are you sure–” 

“Yes, now,” Lucy said with more frost in her voice than she intended. 

“Sure, let’s go.” Jan complied and jogged to the driver’s side of his shop. Lucy climbed in and laid her head back against the headrest, using everything in her power to hold the anger in until she could be alone. When Tim crossed in front of the shop as they pulled back, Lucy closed her eyes, but not quickly enough to miss the defeat in his eyes.

* * *

Officer Jan didn’t seem to know what to say to her as they drove back to the station. She was thankful for the twenty minutes of silence he afforded her and stared stoically ahead, meditating on a spot on the windshield to keep her mind blank. 

Just as they pulled up, Jan was summoned to a call by Dispatch. 

“Thanks, Jan,” Lucy said before getting out of the shop so he could turn right back around and hit the streets. 

Lucy headed straight for the locker room and changed into leggings and a T-shirt. The report could wait. Right now, she needed to hit something. 

The precinct was eerily quiet with most of the officers still deployed to their respective grid searches and crime scenes. She knew she should be out there with them. When she paused at her desk to call Grey and let him know she needed to clock out for a bit, he didn’t hesitate to tell her not to worry about it. He also didn’t press her when she avoided answering if she was okay when he asked. 

As she expected, the gym was empty and the punching bag was free. She focused all of the tension in her body into each punch, working on a combination she knew by muscle memory that they taught all of the students in the academy. 

It helped.

A lot.

Just as the knots in her stomach came undone, a blast of pain spread over her hand. 

She hissed through her teeth. 

The adrenaline was finally wearing off and she’d forgotten to wrap her hands. 

After dabbing her busted knuckle with her clean towel, she wrapped her hands and went right back to hitting the bag. 

When the door creaked open, she didn’t stop. Somehow, she knew who it was. That he would know where to look for her.

“I thought I’d find you down here,” Tim’s voice echoed softly off of the concrete walls. "Are you okay?"

She bit down on her lip and landed another four-punch combination. Hearing his voice after almost losing him brought too many conflicting emotions to the surface. 

How could she yearn for him, loathe him, love him, and ache for him all at the same time? 

“Lucy,” Tim tried again, his voice calm but sad. “We need to talk about what happened.”

She paused in front of the bag, keeping her back to him.

“Is that an order?” She asked before she could help herself.

“No. Of course not,” Tim responded with a sigh.

“Then I need to hit the showers.” She turned on her heels and brushed past him, not able to look up at him as she walked by. 

Her need to be left alone only barely edged out her need to be held, allowing her to keep it together until the hot water sprayed down on her face in the locker room shower. 

It was there that she finally let herself into the corner of her mind she kept painfully barricaded behind barbed wire. It cut her open every time she visited. It was where she kept the barrel, her parent’s disappointment, Jackson’s death, Rosalind’s escape, and now Tim’s near-death experience. 

She let the salt from her tears dissolve down the drain, willing the steaming water to wash it all away. 

Wash away the pain.

Wash away the mourning.

Wash away the fear.

Because she wanted to move forward. She longed to embrace this love in every way possible and refused to take the time they'd been given back for granted. But she really needed the power of positivity, and she could only find her way to it by treading through the ache in her soul first.

Chapter Text

Tim

As it turned out, Tim’s tolerance for Lucy hating him was a lot lower than he anticipated. 

Go figure.

He was well aware he deserved her cold shoulder, but man did it sting.

He remembered Angela's words at the park.

'Tim, go after her,' she said, 'her face while we all waited...I've never seen her like that. Go.'

When Grey told him Lucy was clocking out, he knew she'd be releasing all of her pent-up energy on the precinct punching bag. He made it to the station as soon as he could. He didn't know what he expected when he got there, but when she wouldn't even look at him, his heart twisted torturously in his chest. 

After she’d finished in the locker room, she’d spent the rest of the shift in plain clothes at her desk, filling out the multitude of reports required for critical incidents. He made his rounds on the precinct floor, picking up reports, so he and Grey could review them for the supplemental write-ups required by the task force. 

In the last five hours, Lucy had asked him one clarifying question which he could tell pained her. As soon as he answered, she went back to ignoring him. 

The last round he’d made to collect reports, she hadn’t been at her desk and he assumed she’d gone home. 

Taking the hint, he slid the pile of reports from her desk under his arm and made his way back to Grey’s office.

It looked like a war zone with the amount of paperwork stacked up all over the room. 

They worked in silence … for the most part. There was a loudness in the way Grey kept looking over at him. 

Tim could tell he had something on his mind, but he hoped the older man would just keep it to himself.

“You know,” Grey said, eventually breaking the silence. “I reviewed the body cam footage from the park.” 

When Tim didn’t say anything, Grey continued.

“I think you said something to Lucy along the lines of ‘if it’s between you or me, I’m choosing you every time.’ Sound about right?” Grey lifted his brows as he said it, clearly knowing the answer to his own question.

“Yeah,” Tim confirmed without volunteering to elaborate. He resisted the urge to squirm in his chair, not liking where this was headed.

Grey leaned onto his elbows on his desk and cradled his head in his hands.  He rubbed his hands over his face before looking back up at Tim. 

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” He asked with a sigh. 

Fuck. This was Tim’s worst nightmare. He didn’t want anyone in the LAPD speculating or gossiping about his and Lucy’s relationship status. She deserved everything and he didn't want to be an impediment to her career progression. 

“We aren’t together,” Tim quickly corrected him.

“Cut the crap–”

“I’m not lying to you, Wade,” he interjected. “Chen and Sanford broke up this morning. We aren’t together.” 

Grey took a long breath and then pursed his lips.

Tim waited with his pen hovering over the page of an open folder, knowing a lecture was on the horizon.

He steeled himself. 

“You know...” Grey laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “I don’t know whether I’m more relieved I don’t have an HR nightmare on my hands or disappointed that the two of you haven’t managed to get your heads out of your asses yet.”

He blinked. 

Because there’s no way he just heard–

“Do you love her?” Grey asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his leather chair. 

That was not the direction Tim thought this conversation would go. If Lucy ever forgave him and agreed to have him, he imagined Grey being shocked when they told him. 

But this…

It was like Grey had been expecting them to get together. Since when? 

Were their feelings for each other that obvious?

Grey waited for him to answer, letting the silence hang in the air.  

Tim cleared his throat and rocked forward in his chair until his elbows rested on his knees. 

“If I do, I think she should hear it from me first before I tell anyone else,” Tim said and then shrugged. “No offense.”

“You should tell her,” Grey advised him, completely unphased by Tim's half-confession. “You know as well as I do that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Especially after a day like today.”

Tim nodded, fully aware of the impact today had on his life. He didn’t want to spend another second away from Lucy. If it was up to him, he’d be with her right now. 

“She’s not exactly speaking to me at the moment,” Tim said.

Why am I telling him this? He doesn't need to know this.

But it felt good--Tim could admit--to know Grey was rooting for them. 

“She’ll get over it,” Grey assured him with a sly smile. 

“I don’t know,” Tim shook his head. “You saw the footage.”

She despised him. Tim knew it as soon as he saw her ride away in Jan’s shop and it was only confirmed by her demeanor in the gym and on the squad room floor. Grey hadn't seen that. Tim was worried she would never even look at him again, let alone speak to him.

“Well, what’s that saying? There’s a fine line between love and hate?” Grey said, seeming to read his mind. “You two will be just fine, just give her space.”

Tim nodded. It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. 

“On a more serious note,” Grey said, clearing his throat. “Do you remember that rotation I told you about a while back?”

“To cover Sergeant Farley when she goes on parental leave?” Tim asked. The very pregnant Sergeant Sandra Farley over at the Hollywood Division was due to pop any week now. 

Grey nodded his confirmation.

“I think it would be best that you rotate in as soon as her leave starts. You could even volunteer to cover the whole thing,” Grey advised solemnly before adding, “for both your sakes.”

“Consider it done,” Tim said without hesitation.

He knew if he and Lucy did wind up together, something would have to change. Tim hung onto a sliver of hope that they might still have a future, and even if it took a while, at least this way he could give her the space she needed.

“Alright, we can iron out the details tomorrow,” Grey split the pile of remaining folders on his desk and handed half of them to Tim. “Let’s try to get out of here at a reasonable hour.” 

* * *

Tim rubbed his fingers over his eyes as he walked through the garage to his car. He and Grey managed to get through the supplemental reports by the end of shift, but his body felt like he’d pulled a double even after spending extra time in the shower to wash the day away.

As he approached his truck, a small figure rounded the front and his pulse jumped.

Lucy.  

“Hey,” she said, lacking her usual levity. She glanced at her feet before looking up to meet his gaze. 

The relief he felt by being able to look into her warm brown eyes made his legs feel like jello.

Not to mention, she looked incredible in her floral skirt, white top, and jean jacket. Her hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders, a change from earlier when she’d still had it tied in a low bun.

“Lucy, I am so sorry–”

Before he could finish his sentence, Lucy took three quick steps forward and threw her arms around his torso, knocking him back a step. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder, lowering it to the ground, and then folded her completely into his chest with a rock of his feet. 

They both let out a breath as if they’d been holding it underwater for eternity.

He brushed his hand over her hair as he breathed in her soft jasmine scent, feeling comforted for the first time since he’d held her hand that morning in the shop. And when she’d returned the three pulses? He’d never forget the thrill of understanding, of knowing that she felt the same way without the need for words. It would forever live in his mental reel of cherished memories. 

She had one arm wrapped tight around the middle of his back with her fingers splayed over his lats. Her other hand looped under his shoulder to pull him in closer. The intimacy of being hugged by Lucy filled holes in his soul that he usually worked hard to ignore. He knew what she needed and he knew why she needed it because he needed it too.

He needed to feel her warmth, to feel for himself that she was alive and here. To confirm their love was still there, even if neither of them had said it out loud yet. To prove that they fit better in each other’s arms than they had in anyone else's who'd come before. 

Minutes passed with her face nuzzled into his chest and Tim’s hand slowly stroking up and down her back while they breathed in and out at the same pace. He was afraid to let her go, so he held on tight, waiting for her to be the one to pull away. 

“I’m too angry to talk tonight,” Lucy said, her voice low, just above a whisper. “I’m going to need some time but I couldn’t drive home without letting you know that I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“I understand.” He pressed his lips into her hair. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Lucy nodded and slowly pulled out of his embrace, sliding her hands from around his back to his abs. The soft exploration of her fingertips was subtle and over far too quickly when she let her hands drop to her sides. 

That didn't stop his skin from burning from the path she'd taken.

“Good night.” Tim brushed his thumb over her flushed cheek, wanting nothing more than to drop his mouth down and glide his lips over hers. But he knew it wasn’t the right moment. Instead, he tucked his hands in his jean pockets and took a step back, giving her space. 

“Good night,” she said and turned slowly on her heel, glancing over her shoulder at him before getting into her car.   

He watched her drive away before climbing into his own truck and leaning his head back against the headrest. He smiled, unable to help himself. 

Yes, he was aware they’d taken three steps forward that day and two steps back. Even though he knew Lucy needed more time, he was certain they were finally heading down the same path.

Toward each other.