Work Text:
Tim parks the shop in front of Eduardo’s Tacos just as it starts to rain. They should probably choose a different place, somewhere with an indoor dining area, but it’s Lucy’s turn to pick and she’ll be insufferable if she doesn’t get her way. “Wait here,” he sighs, “I’ll go get it and we can just eat in the shop.”
Lucy flashes him a grateful smile and goes back to scrolling through her phone. Thankfully there isn’t a line, not many people are willing to brave inclement weather, no matter how good the food is. Tim ducks under the narrow awning and Eddie’s face lights up.
“Hey Sarge, didn’t think I’d see you today. Where’s the missus?”
Tim rolls his eyes but doesn’t contradict him. He pulls out his money clip, laying down enough cash to cover their order and a tip. “Lucy’s in the car. We’ll take the usual, and extra napkins.”
While Eddie makes their lunch, Tim lets his eyes wander over to the shop. Lucy’s still looking down at her phone, but he can see her lips moving. The corners of his lips curl up involuntarily when he realizes she’s singing.
“One of these days, you’re gonna have to stop being el tonto and admit you can’t live without her.”
Tim glares at Eddie, reaching for the order. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he protests.
Eddie keeps hold of the bag, forcing Tim to meet his eye. “I don’t think I do, mijo. I would give anything to have one more day with my Rosa. If I had a time machine, I’d go back and get my head out of my ass so much sooner.” All traces of humor are gone from Eddie’s usually jovial demeanor, so Tim doesn’t say anything. “In your line of work, you know better than me that tomorrow is never guaranteed.”
Tim’s eyes drift back to the shop and Eddie follows his line of sight. Lucy glances up then, waving cheerfully at Eddie. He looks back and nods once at the older man before he releases the bag into Tim’s custody. A rush of adrenaline courses through his body; it feels dangerous. It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting what he already knows is true.
He jogs back to the shop, thoroughly drenched by the time he climbs into the driver’s seat. Lucy is belting out some pop song along with the radio, and he scowls at her. “No radio on duty.”
Undeterred, she takes the bag and starts dividing their food while he settles their drinks in the cupholders. “We’re not on duty, we’re on lunch.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue further. She chatters away about some alleged drama with the band currently playing and he pretends to be annoyed, but all the while Eddie’s words play in his head.
“Okay listeners, it’s trivia time! For two tickets to Saturday’s Dodgers game: How many thoughts does the human brain process in a day?”
Tim scoffs, “What a bullshit question. Like anyone’s gonna know that.”
“Between fifty thousand and seventy thousand,” Lucy says without missing a beat. He looks at her incredulously before recovering. “What?” she asks. “You don’t believe me?” They listen intently as someone calls in with a wrong guess.
She gives him a challenging look, and he grumbles as he pulls out his phone and dials the radio station’s number. “Did anyone ever tell you that you don’t have to voice every single one , Chen?”
The DJ answers, confirming that Lucy was, in fact, right. Tim shoves her shoulder as she does a little victory dance and gives his details to the assistant. Afterward, a call comes in that officially ends their lunch break, and any further discussion of the prize.
~~~~~~
At the end of shift, Lucy heads to the kit room to return their gear while Tim settles at a desk to look over their paperwork. He’s nearly done when Webb approaches.
“Hey Sarge, I heard you on the radio. Dodgers versus Red Sox, you know that’s gonna be a good game.”
“Hell yeah, it is,” Tim grins. A thought occurs to him then; his usual game buddies are unavailable, and despite Lucy’s best efforts at sabotage, he and Webb get along well. “Hey, you got plans for Saturday? You want to go?”
Webb blinks at him, stunned. “Are you serious, sir?”
“Yeah, why not?”
The other man looks at him like he’s just said he believes in aliens. “Aren’t you taking Chen?”
Tim scoffs, “She hates baseball.” An indignant sound causes both men to turn. Beside them, hands on her hips and scowl on her face, stands Lucy. “What?”
“I gave you that answer, Tim.”
“Thank you,” he says, a question in his tone.
“Ugh!” She throws her hands up, snatching the paperwork off the desk to turn in to Grey. “You’re an idiot,” she snaps, and not in the usual playful way. “You didn’t even ask me.”
Tim raises his hands, palms up, baffled. “You hate baseball,” he calls after her. Her only answer is a glare as she yanks Grey’s door open.
“Uh, come to think of it,” Webb stammers. “I–uh, I have plans for Saturday. Sorry, Sarge.”
Tim rolls his eyes and storms off to the locker room to change. Lucy is already gone when he comes out so he sends a text.
Tim: What the hell happened?
The telltale dots appear and disappear several times, but no message follows. Eventually he gives up and goes home, hoping whatever bug crawled up her ass is gone by morning.
~~~~~~
After a restless night, a grumpy (grumpier than usual) Tim makes his way to the station. He arrives earlier than usual and is surprised to see Lucy’s car already in its usual spot. He heads inside, hoping to smooth things over with her before roll call.
“Bradford.”
Tim turns toward the Watch Commander’s voice, still buttoning his uniform shirt. “Morning, sir.”
Grey’s arms are crossed, eyes boring into Tim. “Is there trouble in paradise, son?”
“Pardon?”
Grey sighs, “Officer Chen requested to ride alone today. Something about following up with a suspect who doesn’t trust white men.”
Tim rolls his eyes. So she’s still pissed about the damn tickets. “No sir, everything’s fine. Apparently Chen just needs a time out.”
The older sergeant eyes him critically for a few beats. “Does this have something to do with the radio contest you won?”
“Lucy hates baseball,” he argues indignantly.
Grey chuckles, shaking his head and slapping a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “When are you gonna learn, son? Happy wife, happy life.”
“She’s not my wife,” Tim grumbles.
“Work wife or wife wife, they’re all the same.”
Lucy doesn’t look at him once during roll call, instead keeping her eyes trained on Grey as if her life depends on it. She bolts for the door as soon as they’re dismissed, first in line at the kit room and rolling out on patrol before Tim can even make it past the podium.
“Everything okay, Sarge?” McGrady asks as he hands over Tim’s solitary war bag. “Officer Chen was sure in a hurry to head out alone.”
“It’s fine ,” he barks.
“Don’t worry Jerry,” Angela placates. “Mommy and Daddy just had a fight, but they still love you very much.”
McGrady snickers and turns his attention to the next officer in line as Tim glares at Angela. “What the hell do you want, Lopez?”
“Ooh,” Angela winces. “It’s that bad, huh? Are we headed for divorce? I gotta be straight with you: I like to think I’ve got my finger on the pulse here and it does not look good for you. People are going to side with Lucy. I think it’s that Little Miss Sunshine thing she’s got going on.”
“Fuck off, Ange,” he snaps as he pushes past her toward the sally port.
“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t kill you to smile, Bradford,” she calls. “Maybe kiss a few babies.”
Tim and Lucy’s paths cross several times throughout the day, and in each instance she is professional and courteous, speaking to him only as required to complete the job. He knows better than to push, so he doesn’t bring up the tickets. By the end of shift, though, he’s fed up with fielding everyone’s questions about why Lucy isn’t riding with him. Once again, she rushes through her paperwork and is gone before he’s even back at the station.
Tim: Are you riding with me tomorrow, or are you planning to stay pissed forever?
Lucy: I don’t know what you’re talking about Sergeant Bradford , but I will be riding solo tomorrow.
He huffs out a breath and shoves his phone in his back pocket before climbing into his truck.
~~~~~~
It’s another restless night, and try as he might to deny it, being on the outs with Lucy has him resembling the perpetually pissed off Tim Bradford of three years ago. He endures another roll call where she refuses to look his way, McGrady’s sad eyes at the kit room, and endless questions and teasing about “the big breakup” from every law enforcement official he encounters. Hell, even the new ADA asks where his “better half” is. Rather than punching Sanford, though, Tim decides to cool his jets at lunch.
“Ay, mijo,” Eddie shakes his head sadly as Tim approaches the counter. “I thought I told you to stop being a dummy, no?”
Tim sighs, “I’m not in the mood, Eddie, just give me my usual.”
Eddie crosses his arms, nodding to a sign hanging in the window beside his head. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. “No tacos de Eduardo until you make it right with tu corazón.” He juts his jaw out and Tim turns to see Lucy sitting alone at one of the picnic tables, her back to them.
He throws his hands up in surrender, making his way to Lucy’s table, ignoring the way every other cop is watching him with bated breath. “Mind if I join you?”
Lucy’s head shoots up, but she quickly covers whatever emotion she’s feeling at seeing him. “It’s a free country, I was just leaving.” She reaches for her plate and moves to stand, but he grabs her wrist.
“Lucy, wait, please.” She settles back down, but her face remains stone. “Can we just call a truce, please?”
She studies him for a moment, then scoffs. “Do you even know why I’m mad?”
“I thought you weren’t mad,” he counters, earning a glare.
“If you’ll excuse me, Sergeant –”
“Cut the bullshit, Chen, we’re off the clock,” he snaps. “Is this honestly because of the damn game? You hate baseball!”
“ I helped you win those tickets, Tim,” she nearly shouts.
“And I said ‘thank you’,” he argues.
“That’s not the point, ” she holds her hands up like she’s going to wring his neck, then quickly drops them, realizing every single customer and Eddie is watching them intently. “You didn’t even consider asking me.”
“You hate baseball,” he reiterates, annoyed.
“Yeah, well I love stadium nachos.”
Tim laughs incredulously. She sounds like a madwoman, and he’s about to say as much out loud when he catches the vulnerability in her eyes. “Luce,” he asks softly, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Lucy.”
She bites her lip before taking a deep breath, her voice hushed. “Look, I know this thing between us is… whatever , we’re not dating, we’re just friends who–who have sleepovers and give each other mind-blowing orgasms,” he can’t help the smug grin at that comment. “But I thought we were at least the friends part." Her eyes well with tears and his chest seizes. "But clearly, I was wrong, because you’d rather spend your Saturday afternoon with anyone but me.”
With that, she gathers her trash and stands, leaving a speechless Tim to ponder her words. One of these days, you’re gonna have to stop being el tonto and admit you can’t live without her. Eddie’s voice plays through his head.
“I love you,” he blurts out loudly, stunning everyone (including himself) to silence.
“Tim,” Lucy looks around nervously, the patio filled with many of their colleagues, including Sergeant Grey. “What the hell are you doing?”
Emboldened, he stands, closing the distance as he speaks. “I’m done pretending, Luce, they all know anyway. We’re the only idiots here. I love you. I don’t know when it happened, but you became the most important person in my life and the one I can’t live without.”
He reaches for her hand tentatively, and when she places her fingers in his, he tugs her close, kissing her sweetly. Their audience cheers, causing their cheeks to pink up, but he doesn’t care. He finally feels free.
“What do we do now?” she whispers against his lips.
He takes a deep breath in, staring at her intently. “Lucy, would you like to go to the Dodgers game with me on Saturday?”
She presses her lips together, considering. “Mm, no. I really do hate baseball.”
She turns on her heel, heading for her shop and he throws his hands up in exasperation before following her, nodding in thanks at Eddie as they pass the counter.