Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Officer Chen, a word, please.’

If there’s one thing he still knows how to do, it’s using his voice to elicit the exact reaction he needs from her. It’s not so much what he’s saying, as the way he says it. He’s able to ground her, startle her, comfort her, alert her, motivate or discourage her with only the slightest change of intonation. Now, he pulls the stern voice card, his TO voice, making her stop in her tracks as she makes a beeline to the locker room. It’s not that he wouldn’t follow her in there. Right now, there’s no doubt in his mind he would do exactly that. But as he passes the interrogation rooms, he thinks better of it. They’ll have more privacy like this. And if anyone sees them taking a minute to talk privately in here, they probably wouldn’t think anything of it. Or, more accurately, they wouldn’t think anything more than they already do.

If Thorsen’s comments lately are any indication, he’s pretty sure he’s doing a shit job of hiding how he feels. People are probably aware that both him and Lucy are single right now, which makes the CI undercover story weak at best to cover for their first date. And he can’t help being drawn to her whenever she’s nearby. To be fair, he always has been. But he can’t seem to stop flirting with her now. He tries to conceal it with their usual banter and bickering, but even that just hits different now. He knows he’s different. He can’t bring himself to act stand-offish with her anymore. Can’t even pretend he’s not into every little thing about her. He catches himself smiling throughout every single conversation he has with her for fuck’s sake. Even when he’s making an actual effort not to. It’s pathetic, really. So, if he’s speaking a little more sternly, a little louder, just in case anyone overhears, that’s just as well.

She has stopped, just like he expected her to, but she hasn’t turned to face him. He can see her struggle, so in tune with every little movement she makes that he doesn’t even have to see her face to know exactly what she looks like right now. He can imagine every detail of it. And he’s also sure she’s contemplating ignoring him to make a run for the locker room anyway.

‘Now,’ he says, his mind filling in the word he’s not saying. Boot. It’s like she’s hearing it as well, and it makes her give in. She turns around, facing him, without actually facing him. Her eyes are directed at the floor, the walls, the print on the wall behind him, anywhere but him, really. He nods sideways and walks ahead of her towards the interrogation rooms. He pushes at the door, before she even rounds the corner and he waits, holding it open, meanwhile channeling the impatience and slight annoyance he thinks would be typical for him. Except… he’s not entirely sure anymore what his natural reaction would look like if he wasn’t, well… for a lack of a better word: totally gone for her. If he really thinks about it, maybe all of his behavior has been manufactured since as long as he can remember. And then his lips touched hers for longer than a split second and all of it – all of his walls and barriers, his strictly professional boundaries and carefully put in place protective armor – got blown to pieces. Damaged beyond repair.

She’s still carefully avoiding looking him in the eye as she moves past him into the observation area of the interrogation room he picked. He shuts the door and right away words are spilling out of her. Her voice shaky and slightly pitched, the way she sounds when she’s overwhelmed, spinning, thoughts running a hundred miles a minute and unable to process it all.

‘I’m so sorry, Tim. I know I acted weird. I just need a minute, and I’ll be fine. I promise. Just… I need a second, and I’ll be better. I didn’t mean to–’

‘Lucy…’

He’d spotted her the moment she entered the bullpen, minutes earlier, worry edged on her face, scanning the place frantically until her eyes landed on him. She halted, catching Thorsen in the midst of a highly exaggerated description of him singlehandedly holding the shop back by brute force, effectively saving Tim’s life. Tim locked eyes with her, and Lucy all but bolted. And now here they are.

He steps forward, interrupting her ramblings. ‘I’m okay.’

He notices a thousand minuscule things at once. The quivering of her bottom lip, those huge brown eyes shining with tears threatening to spill, how hard she’s trying to fight them back. The way she fidgets with the radio on her belt. He knows she immediately reaches for it every time she feels anxious, even when she isn’t wearing her belt, even when she’s not in uniform at all. It’s a post-barrel thing. Like she’s reaching for a lifeline. An escape. He’s seen her do it constantly the other day, in the shop, when Chris kept calling her. Seeing her do it now, sends an overwhelming need to put her at ease through him.

‘I’m okay,’ he repeats, softer now it’s just the two of them. Maybe the TO thing was a little too convincing, judging on the confused expression on her face. Did she really think he pulled her aside to berate her?

‘You almost died,’ she replies, angrily wiping at a tear that manages to escape.

‘I got out. And I’m fine. See? I’m fine, Lucy. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘You could have…’

He steps closer. ‘I have other plans tonight.’

Her breath hitches. A tiny little gasp, somewhere between her not believing she’s hearing what she thinks she’s hearing, and a giggle. It’s fucking adorable and he can’t help himself.

‘You know there’s no way in hell I’m going to miss our first date, don’t you? Or, well, more like our second first date. I really, really want to go on that date.’ He reaches for her, wanting to cup her cheek in his hand and gently swipe away the tear that’s slowly, dramatically cascading down her beautiful face. But he never gets the chance, because she lunges at him before he’s closed the gap. And that’s three times now, he realizes. Three times she has grabbed his face exactly like this – the way he can’t stop thinking about – to pull him close as she reaches up. He makes a mental note to fix that soon, to step up and be the one that initiates the next kiss.

Then her lips touch his and his mind goes completely blank. Nothing registering except for having his arms full of Lucy Chen, his mouth full of Lucy, as he moves in to capture the fullest, softest, most delicious lips he’s ever had the privilege to kiss. She might have been the one to start this – again – but no one can accuse him of not getting on board pretty fucking fast. He moves his hands to her waist, pulling her body flush with his, one hand moving up her back to cradle the back of her neck, fingertips brushing against her tightly pinned hair. It’s startling for a second, which isn’t exactly new. Both times they kissed shook him to the core. But it’s different now, because he feels the familiar fabric of the uniform under his hands. And he’s not touching the loose waves of her hair in her apartment, or her silky, straightened hair in the airplane bathroom (in his mind he still sees a slo-mo version of the swipe of it over bare skin as she undresses). Instead his hand cups the neat updo Officer Chen wears when she’s on shift. He is kissing her at work and he is fully aware, as he drags her bottom lip between his to softly suck on it, that he has no intention whatsoever to stop anytime soon.

He almost fucking died today. He crashed through the railing of the rooftop parking structure, looking seven floors down, bracing himself for the moment when the slightest shift of weight, the tiniest movement would tip the scale the wrong way and plummet him and Thorsen towards their untimely and very messy demise. And it wasn’t until after, when he was back on solid ground, called it in and they were waiting for transport back to the station, that it fully hit him. He’s still shaky from the realization. He came close before. More than once, even. But it never felt this real. There was a moment, just before he got out, when a rush of fear went through him in a way he never really experienced before. Not for himself anyway. He had felt like that once, when he was looking across a desolate landscape stretched before him. Miles and miles of dry sand and no clue where to even begin looking. And then pulling her body out of that damn barrel. Lifeless and still. So un-Lucy-like his brain couldn’t even comprehend. Frantically forcing her heart to beat and her lungs to take the air he was breathing into her. He still has nightmares about it, waking up with a surge, feeling sick, wanting to hurl from sheer desperation. He’ll take dangling over skyscrapers over that feeling any day.

But he’s never feared for his own life like he had for a moment today, not even in the army when he was fighting an actual war. Not when he was a teenager facing his father’s violent anger, convinced this might be the time the man would finally snap and do something irreversible. Not the couple of times he got shot on the job and was barely hanging onto consciousness as he was severely bleeding with freaking pieces of lead lodged in his gut.

Not when he was exposed to an unknown virus leading to an agonizing death he had just witnessed firsthand. Not when just a couple of weeks ago a fragment of one of the forementioned bullets left him paralyzed on a hospital floor. It’s not that he hasn’t been scared before. But there has always been a resignation to it. It’s what he signed up for. He knows fear and he can deal with it. But today hit different. Today he realized he had something to lose. And he has no doubt it’s because of this. Her. He could have missed out on this. He could have died without having the chance to kiss her one more time. To kiss her for real, the way he wants to, desperately so, and has been wanting to for longer than he will ever be willing to admit to anyone including himself.

Something changed a couple of days ago. It had already been changing slowly, steadily ever since that one day Grey assigned him their hotshot rookie in rollcall. He should have known he was in trouble from that first look. He’s aware now, that he has been gradually gravitating towards her ever since. But the other day, talking to her outside the precinct, she told him – flat out and fearlessly told him – he was the most important person in her life.

That’s when it happened all at once. He made a decision right there, that he knew he wasn’t ever able to come back from. Because as he was staring at her, and she told him it probably wasn’t worth it, a realization crashed through him. He was staring at her, at this beautiful face he knew better than his own, and in that moment, he saw their future children.

Up until then, when he thought about having kids with Isabel, it was a vague idea. He figured they’d be blond like Genny’s kids were when they were newborns. He pictured them that way. Molded them after his nephews, the only image he could conjure up. But now he suddenly knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that his children will look like Lucy Chen. He can almost literally see it. Adorable little girls, a spitting image of her. Two of them, maybe? And a baby boy. They will have dark hair, her eyes, the shape of her pretty face. He’s sure of it.

So, he sat there staring, took a breath. And decided. And that’s where he’s at, where he’s been at, since. He can’t stop thinking about it. He can’t wait to start their life together, to start the rest of their lives. He can not wait to take her out on another freaking date, to do it right, the way she deserves, so he can finally start. So he can finally look at her, really look at her. Be with her, just her and him enjoying spending time together. To tell her. Finally tell her. There’s suddenly so much he feels like he should tell her, and then it almost got yanked away right from under them.

But he got out. He’s alive. And for the life of him, he can’t tear himself away from her. Couldn’t stop kissing her even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t. He needs to hold her, feel her pressed against him, and take his fill of her. Over. And over. And over again. It’s as simple as that. So, he indulges. He deepens, and deepens, and deepens this kiss. Lets his hand drift over her body.

She’s shaking, her hand trembling as she holds onto his shirt for dear life. And their belts clash and dig into his body as he pulls her even closer, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck. And neither does she, so it seems. She clings to his shoulders, pulling herself up to better reach him and in a sudden moment of clarity a wonderful idea occurs to him. Next thing he knows, he’s reaching down. His hand travelling to places he hasn’t even dreamed of touching before. (Okay, so that’s a lie, sue him. A man can only have so much self-control.)

Then his hands are on her ass and of course she works with him beautifully, immediately getting his intention. He pulls her in and lifts her, and she jumps and wraps herself around him. And this is better, so much better. He can’t even begin to wrap his mind around how their bodies fit together.

She makes a soft, little, desperate sound as he turns slightly and her back hits the window behind her as he presses into her more. Her fingers are carding through his hair and digging into his shoulder and dragging across his cheek and back to his neck. Her belt is still between them, and he’s tempted to pull it off of her, but he’s not sure if he can stop himself from removing every single scrap of clothing on her once he starts. And this… this is already more of her then he’s ever experienced before and he’s losing his mind a little.

There’s that noise she makes again. He’s heard it every time they’ve kissed and it’s doing things to him. It reminds him of that pouty thing she does when she doesn’t agree with him but follows his order anyway. He always had some kind of reaction to it, if he’s being honest. But before the practice kiss, he knew how to push it down before it could really materialize. He knows he’ll never be able to again. He chases that sound. He works to pull it out of her over and over again. And she gives it to him time after time.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been kissing at this point. He needs to slow this down. Oxygen is going to be a problem if they continue like breathing is optional. And more importantly, (more than such a trivial detail as the human need to breathe) they’re still at work, even though he’s beginning to question if maybe he died after all and went to heaven. He moves his hand from the back of her head, angling her face to get better access and take control to slow the fuck down. And he does. He takes control. He slows down. But it’s not making them stop at all. Somehow it gets even better and hotter as he licks her upper lip and she opens her mouth and her tongue does sinful things to his. He’s instantly hard. In a way he hasn’t experienced since… ever maybe? Not since Highschool, that’s for sure. This is insane. And part of him thinks it might be an adrenaline thing. But it’s not. It’s a Lucy thing. Because he’s fairly certain that, had their kisses not been interrupted before, he would have had her pressed up to the nearest flat surface a lot sooner. He feels monumentally stupid for waiting this long. They could have been doing this for days now, weeks, months even. Why haven’t they? There were reasons, he’s sure, but he suddenly can’t think of any. Not a single one.

She’s sucking his lower lip, digging her teeth in a little and he’s catching her upper lip, perfecting an art he didn’t really know he was capable of. He needs to get her somewhere where he can do this for hours on end. He has no intention of ever stopping, actually. If he had waited until after their date to kiss her again, she would have been naked right now if it was up to him. He wouldn’t be able to reign this in, unless she tells him to. How is he going to get through dinner with her, knowing this is on the other side of it?

Finally, they have to break apart for a couple of seconds, but neither one of them is pulling away. He keeps her locked in place, nuzzling her cheek, her nose. They spend several long moments like that, just breathing the same air, until he spins her away from the glass and leans back on an empty table on the far end of the room. He sits down, with her practically straddling him. He just needs another minute of this. One more, before he’ll pull himself back together. Their eyes lock, and he tucks a piece of stray hair away from her face, brushes the back of his fingers against her face, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb.

‘Glad we got that out of the way,’ he manages to say and she laughs softly, pressing the tips of her fingers to the side of his face.

‘We never got to finish a kiss before,’ she whispers.

‘I’m not finished,’ he says. ‘Are you?’

‘Maybe not completely finished…’ She averts her gaze, like she’s suddenly shy.

‘Are you okay?’

She tilts her head up. A slow nod.

‘Good.’

‘I hate not being there. When you’re in trouble.’

‘I know.’ He hates it, too. Not being able to have her back when she’s out there. He moves his hands over her back in a soothing way.

Her lips brush against his. ‘But I like this. This, I could get used to.’

He’s pretty sure he’ll never get used to it, but the idea of it – making kissing her a regular occurrence – makes him smile. ‘Is it just me, or are we insanely good at this?’

‘We’re not bad,’ she teases, beaming at him. ‘You’re a good kisser, once you get going. Maybe even… one of the top five I’ve ever…’

He rolls his eyes, cutting her off with a mumbled: ‘I don’t know why I put up with this.’

She hums softly, tipping her head slightly. ‘Yeah, you do.’

He hums too, touching her cheek. ‘Yeah. Maybe I do.’

Her gaze drops to his shoulder, where her hand is resting, then back up at him. There’s a playful little smile lingering. The one she has when she’s messing with him, which is… basically all the time. What’s different though, is that he lets himself look. He looks at her and lets all that smiley happiness wash over him, lets himself just… soak it up. Her smile falters a little under his stare and she chews her bottom lip. Self-conscious, suddenly.

‘I’m so in love with you.’ The words just slip out of him, before he manages to catch them, but he can’t bring himself to care. An hour ago, he thought he might never have the chance to tell her. And even though he would have preferred to say it someplace else, at exactly the right time, in the right way, instead of after nearly dying, he mostly just wants her to know. He doesn’t want to walk out of this room without telling her how he feels. ‘I wasn’t planning on saying it already. It usually takes me longer than half a date.’

It’s not lost on him that he, in fact, has never said it like this before. He’d been deeply in love with Isabel, and he’d told her he loved her countless times. There’s been a time he believed he’d been in love with Rachel too, even though recently, he has come to realize some things he’d been too blind to see back then. How the things he liked most about her, were the things that reminded him of Lucy. How much they actually look alike and how physically attracted he instantly felt to her. He’s had a lot of time to deep dive into his innermost thoughts and feelings lately. More than he likes, even. And the irony is not lost on him, that the next girl he dated was a taller version of Isabel. Like he was trying to force himself back from wanting Lucy. He thinks, maybe, his last relationships were never about the women he was seeing as much as they were about the woman he was refusing to think about that way. It’s telling that after both break-up’s, he hardly gave either woman any more thought at all. Both times, he ended up missing Lucy more. Craving her. Wanting to be near her more. Going out for drinks after work, hoping she’d join. Thinking of her on his days off, trying to think of reasons to text her, wanting to make up excuses for her to come over – to walk Kojo with him, or watch some trashy real crime show. Just so he could casually spend some time with her and settle that hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He never gave in, but he’s not sure how he’d missed it. How he didn’t realize that practice-kissing her would send him over the edge, until it was happening.

He’s seeing it clearly now, though. And this, the breathless way in which the words just slipped out of him, is new to him. So is the way he marvels at her, and the way his mind just blanks out sometimes. How he’s able to track her immediately in a crowded room. The shift of energy he feels whenever she walks in, even before he’s seen her. How he never feels right, or at ease, unless she’s close by. How fucking happy it makes him to just be in her presence. And now, he practically told her he loves her. Way to soon. But on the other hand, of course he does. He’s sure she already knows he does. The love-part can’t be much of a revelation. She must know he cares about her deeply. It’s the in love-part he wants her to be sure of now, too. Judging by the look of surprise on her face, it needed to be said out loud. She’s staring at him with the same amazed expression she had a couple of days ago, when after careful consideration he came up with his most eloquent response ever. Unless it is.

Her lips move, while she’s processing. ‘Tim…’

He leans in to kiss her gently. He doesn’t want her to feel like she should be saying it back if she’s not there yet. He wants to hear it when she feels like she wants to tell him. ‘I regretted not telling you sooner. In the shop… What scared me most was missing out on the chance to say it. So here I am, telling you. That’s all.’

She hugs him, buries her face in his neck and whispers: ‘Thank you.’

He closes his eyes and breaths her in, smoothing his hand up and down her back.

‘Is this really happening?’ she asks with a voice so soft he isn’t sure he was supposed to hear it.

‘I think it is,’ he replies anyway, lips pressed to the shell of her ear. ‘Ready to get back out there?’
‘No.’ She sits up straight and looks at him. ‘But I’ll go anyway. Oh, but wait. Do I… do I look like we just made out?’

He laughs, swiping his thumb over her chin, where the friction of his stubble irritated her skin slightly. ‘Only a little. Looks good on you, though.’

She moans in embarrassment, and it’s the sound of it, combined with her being on top of him like this, that makes him need to flex some muscles in his body to get the blood pumping elsewhere than where it’s currently rushing to. Which he didn’t think through, because she seems to like the tightening of his forearms around her. She puts her hand on him. And he needs something, fast, to distract himself from the tips of her fingers trailing over his skin. He grabs her hips and takes her with him as he gets up from where he’s sitting.

Her legs fall away from him as he lowers her to the ground and he waits for her to adjust
before letting go of her. She steadies herself with one hand on his biceps.

‘Want to go out first?’ he asks, tightening his fist to steady himself.

‘Shouldn’t we walk out together? I mean, wouldn’t that be what we’d normally do?’

‘You’re right. Good thinking.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, preening under his praise. He likes how much she likes it. Fuck, if he’s not going to praise the hell out of her all of the time from now on.

He smiles, taking another moment to gather himself before moving to the door and opening it for her. He lets her go ahead and falls into step next to her.

She looks up at him, as he glances at her, and she gives him a warning look. Her brow furrowed in that cute way of hers. ‘Don’t...’

‘Don’t do what?’ He asks confused.

‘Don’t…’ She lowers her voice. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

‘I’m not doing anything.’ He knows they’re both smiling like idiots, but he can’t seem to quit.

‘You are. And if you don’t stop, I’ll have to...’

‘Okay, I’ll stop,’ he whispers, as they’re nearing the end of the hallway. He takes another look at her before turning the corner. ‘What is it with you and wanting to hurt me, by the way? I just nearly died. A little compassion would be nice.’

‘Well, for the record,’ she says sweetly, looking up at him as they pass by the rollcall room, ‘I’m glad you didn’t die. You owe me a redo on our date.’

‘It’s what gave me the will to live,’ he says, watching her try to keep a straight face now they’re surrounded by their co-workers, knowing very well what he’s saying basically made her jump him a couple of minutes ago.

‘In my mind, I am hitting you right now.’

He can’t help but glance another swift look at her. ‘Ah, that’s good to know.’ As he looks the other way, he can just imagine the pursing of her lips before he quietly adds: ‘I’ll pick you up at eight?’

He can hear her smile, when she answers him. ‘I’ll be ready.’

It makes him smile, too. ‘No, you won’t.’

Chapter Text

Lucy thinks they might have jinxed it. The day just kept on happening and the mountain of paperwork kept piling up. Seven o’clock rolled around, then eight. Tim managed to push their reservation back, but by nine they both knew there was no way they were ever going to make it to the restaurant. So, by the time she gets to the locker room to change out, Lucy is bummed to say the least. That’s twice now, their date fell through. Two failed attempts and a near death experience for Tim. Maybe the universe is trying to tell her something.

‘No, it’s not,’ she whispers to herself, stuffing her things in her bag before heading out. She’s allowed to have this. They are allowed to have this.

Her heart jumps a little, or maybe a lot, as she spots Tim leaning against the wall outside of the locker room, waiting for her. They sort of agreed their date wasn’t going to happen today, so she expected him to have left already. ‘Hey…’ she says, and – O my God – is she going to blush every time she sees him now?

‘Hey…’ Wait… is he blushing too? This must be the cutest thing ever. How is she supposed to survive in a world where Tim Bradford gets flustered by her?

‘I thought you would have left by now,’ she says.

‘I thought I’d walk you to your car.’

‘Oh.’ She can’t help but smile. ‘How thoughtful of you… Sir.’ She doesn’t have to look at him to know the roll of his eyes, and how he’s turning away from her in mock annoyance. It’s nice to still have this dynamic with him. Reassuring even. She needs it to ground her, while everything else right now makes her feel like she’ll be floating away.

They’re not saying much heading out of the precinct. He opens the door for her. She has parked right beside him this morning, so they’re heading the same direction. And God, she has butterflies, and she’s itching to touch him, to let her fingers brush his. It’s stupid how much she wants him to take her hand. She looks up at the same time he looks down and her stomach drops… This is insane. And she doesn’t want it to end. She doesn’t want to say goodbye. She wants to have more of this. The thought of saying good night to him and getting in their separate cars now, makes her chest hurt a bit.

‘So, about dinner…’ he says, stopping at the tail end of her car. ‘I was thinking, we still got to eat, right?’

‘Yes,’ she breaths out, the tightening in her chest lessening. Her cheeks start hurting instead now, from smiling too much. ‘We do.’

‘I was thinking, what if we just go someplace – any place – right now? I mean, do you really care where we’re going for our date? Because I don’t. I just…’

She nods. ‘Me too.’

‘Yeah?’ He looks so happy. She can’t get used to seeing him look at her like that. Who is this man? She feels like she’s falling apart at the seams every time he does this. ‘You sure?’

‘Very sure. I don’t need a fancy date, you know.’

‘You deserve the fancy date,’ he says and she almost melts.

‘Then… we’ll do that some other time.’ She’s swaying a little from side to side, trying to keep herself from reaching out and touching him. ‘You know, because, if you play this right, you might have to plan a lot of date nights.’

‘Well, good. ‘Cause I wouldn’t exactly mind seeing that dress again…'

She looks away before staring right back at him. ‘I don’t know about the dress, Tim. You seemed to get a little too distracted by it. I think I need to ease you into things a little.’

‘Can you blame me?’ He’s crowding her space a little more, backing her up between their cars. ‘I was prepared for the green dress this time, but you chose violence.’

‘Maybe I did.’

‘Oh, I’m pretty sure you knew exactly what you were doing.’

‘Maybe I like seeing your face when I break your brain a little.’

He crosses his arms, staring down at her. ‘You didn’t break anything. I’m fully functional.’

‘God, I hope so.’ And there’s that look again. The one she was after. He recovers fast, though. As she’s biting down her smile, he nods towards his truck.

‘Okay, just get in the car.’

‘I’ll be right behind you. It will look weird if my car’s still here.’ Also, she’ll probably combust if she gets in a closed off space with him without some kind of distraction. She’s only human, after all.

He nods slowly, his eyes almost burning a hole in her soul. ‘You’re way too good at this.’

She shrugs, and notices the drop of his gaze from her eyes to her mouth.

‘You’re good at a lot of things.’

She needs to press her lips together to keep her smile from taking over her entire face. ‘You think so, huh?’

‘I do.’ There’s a long beat, where nothing happens and they just stand there, staring at each other and she wants to jump him. ‘So, where am I taking you?’

She purses her lips, then makes up her mind. There’s a place that’s perfect. They’ve passed by there on patrol a couple of times and after dark it always looked a little magical to her. It’s lowkey and secluded. It will be just them, no pressure. ‘I’ll take you,’ she decides, before turning to open the door to her car. ‘You’ll see.’

Lucy Chen has never been kissed the way Tim Bradford is kissing her right now. Every one of his kisses had been mind-blowingly amazing – and let’s face it: no matter what she says about a first real kiss, to her, none of them had been pretend – but all of those, she had taken. He hadn’t been exactly shy in participating, but she had been the one to step up and demand.

Not this one though… This one is all him giving. Offering himself to her freely, abundantly, completely. There’s a deliberation to it that takes her breath away and makes her heart skip a beat. He has thought about this and he’s following through, purposefully showing her what it feels like when Tim Bradford makes a move. And she’s positively mesmerized.

In fact: nothing exists right now, except for the touch of his lips. Slowly, delicately taking their time to explore hers. He’s kissing her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. There’s no rush to it. It’s like time ceases to exist. The world could stop spinning, hell could break loose, freeze over, do whatever it wants, and she wouldn’t even notice. Because Tim Bradford is kissing her like nothing else matters. Like she’s his entire world. Like he…

I’m so in love with you. That’s what he said. And the words had been right there on the tip of her tongue too. She wanted to say it back. Because she is, isn’t she? Head over heels, completely, sickeningly in love with him since… Since when? She’s not even sure.

Maybe it all started the minute he caught her eye for the first time. That rush she felt when she turned around and saw him sitting there. The way he sized her up, arms crossed, all serious looking. The click of his jaw, the steely blue of his eyes, that stare. She felt nervous immediately. Excited. Eager. Bouncy. He scared her a little at first. She felt intimidated. Out of her depth. But there’d always been something underneath, even then. She liked the way he challenged her. She’d hated how hard he was on her, but it also made her feel like he knew she was capable of handling it. And that, she liked. She wanted to prove herself. Impress him. Surprise him time and time again by never backing down. Since their first day, he terrified her, but thrilled her in equal measure.

It was only natural, wasn’t it? Of course she felt impressed by him. Slightly attracted, maybe. Then fiercely attracted. Who could blame her?

A few weeks in, she knew she was probably crushing on him a little. Then she started liking him. A lot. Feeling safe with him. Thinking of him sometimes outside of the job. Thinking of him first thing in the morning, last thing at night. Missing him when he wasn’t around.

Hearing his voice – god, his voice – in her head throughout the day. His voice, telling her what to do if she wasn’t sure. Comforting her, encouraging her, guiding her.

Get out of bed, boot. Go do your laundry, boot. Stop eating ice cream for dinner.  

Watch that guy. Lock your door. Slow down. Watch your step. Focus.

Don’t let them talk to you like that. You can do this, boot. Kick some ass. Don’t cry. Speak up for yourself. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

Pay attention. Eyes on the road. Put down your phone. Get some sleep, boot.

I got you.

Show them what you’re worth. You did good, today. You shouldn’t be alone right now. Not bad, boot.

You are strong. You’re a good cop. You deserve to be recognized.

Good girl. Such a good girl for me.

Lucy.

I will take care of you.

Lucy, I’m here.

Tell me what you want, Lucy.

She wanted to be close, closer, closest. She found herself wanting all the damn time. Wanting to touch him. Wanting him to touch her. Wanting him to open up to her, let her in, let her care for him the way she was aching to, because she cared. 

Caring for him. Loving him. She doesn’t know when it started, because it had somehow always been there, even when she was refusing to acknowledge it. Because acknowledging it meant having to deal with it, and the only responsible way to do that would have been to draw the line. Stop it. End it. Distance herself from him. Because he was her TO and her boss, and there would have been no way he’d feel the same about her. And even if he did, he would never act on it. Because that would be reckless, and irresponsible, and wrong. It would go against everything he stands for. And if by some miracle, he did feel the same and he would be willing to act on it… then she would definitely ruin everything. That’s what she does in all her relationships. She never manages to make it work, to get it right. And she would lose him and the thought of losing him terrifies her. So, that settled it, didn’t it? It wouldn’t ever be worth the risk.  

Unless it is. The way he looked at her when he said it made her whole world tip off of its axis. Those three words changed the entire trajectory of her life. By saying them, he told her she was worth the effort. He was willing to risk everything for her. He would be there if she was willing to make the jump. He’d catch her. He’d love her. He loves her.

And she hadn’t said it back, because he just almost died, and maybe he just got carried away. But now she feels stupid, because it’s Tim. He wouldn’t say it if he wasn’t sure. He’s always sure. And it’s not just in his words. It’s in every look now. Every smile. It’s in the way he kisses her. No one has ever kissed her like this. And she loves him. And his hand is in her hair, and the other one is on her knee, moving towards the inside of her leg. His leg is caging her in, his knee pressing into her outer thigh a little more with every passing second. And she never wants this to end, never wants to stop kissing him like this, because it is everything.

She is not surprised he’s capable of this. This loving, adoring, attentive side of him. She has seen him love Isabel. She knows if he’s in, he’s all in. But she never, never-ever in her wildest dreams, pictured him being like this with her. Taking things slow suddenly sounds like the stupidest idea she ever had. She wants everything with him and she wants it now. She wants to melt into him, let him take her home and do whatever he wants to her for the entire night.    

He draws back a little, only to lean back in and deepen the kiss. His thumb caresses her cheek as his fingers get tangled up in her hair and she sighs into it. She finds herself unable to move, thinking her muscles might give way the moment she tries. She’s not even sure how she keeps herself sitting up, right now.

His hand is moving up her leg a little, until the tips of his fingers brush her hands, where they are resting in her lap, tightly clasped together. His index finger travels along hers teasingly, tracing her knuckle and the back of her hand, gently playing with her as he tenderly nips her lips. And it’s making her spiral.

She knows those hands. She’d watched them work, and drive, and open doors, adjust things, tap his phone, and hold cups of coffee, sandwiches, weapons. She’d seen them, watched them for hours on end and she’d imagined him doing things to her, touch her. And now he is. Some part of her always thought she’d be disappointed if it finally were to happen, because she hyped him up so much. There’s no way he’d ever live up to that. No one can. Then Vegas happened, and “What happens undercover stays undercover”, and “Do you want to come in?” happened. And she’d gotten a little taste of what it’d be like. Which, as it turned out, wasn’t disappointing at all.

But that could have been the adrenaline, the rush of the moment, the danger, with only each other to rely on. Or the fact that – apparently – tattoos, even fake ones, looked stupid hot on him. But all of it wasn’t real. It was all part of the fantasy she’d created around him. Real life couldn’t be like that. But this is real life. And it’s somehow better than she imagined it? How is that even possible?

When the kiss ends, her eyes flutter open and she catches his smile and his warm gaze. By now, she is sure she is dreaming. She must be, right? She’s aware she amuses him sometimes. She even caught him trying to hold back a hint of a smile every once in a while, which never fails to send a thrill through her. A sense of accomplishment and sheer delight. But this is different, isn’t it? This is not one of his amused smirks. It’s more of a… It’s close to… what she always pictured he would look like when… when he’s happy.

It’s a smile she’d always hoped and wished to see on him. Because he deserves happiness. It’s what she always wanted for him, since the time she saw him break down in the shop after running into Isabel. Seeing him hurt like that made her own heart ache for him.

It’s part of why she set him up with Rachel, because after all he went through, she wanted him to be happy. She’s well aware there was more to it. A weird, tangled-up, messy reasoning behind her picking a date for him. Because yes, she wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to have someone special in his life. Someone who could be there for him in ways she would never be able to herself. Someone who was worthy of him. And she really liked Rachel. She knew Rachel was kind, and cheerful. Smart and empathic.

There’d been a time when Rachel had been her closest friend. The one she trusted completely, had the most fun with, and spent almost all of her time with. They’d been so close, they felt more like sisters at the time. They used to joke about it, trying to get people to believe they actually were siblings. More times than not they succeeded, but that was a long time ago, and surely Lucy didn’t think of any of that at all when she set Tim up with a girl that in a lot of ways was just like her. Of course she wasn’t at all curious to see if he could be attracted to a girl like that. If he could fall for her.

If he could fall for her.

And it didn’t cross her mind at all, that if he did fall for one of her friends, she’d always have him in her life in some capacity. She’d always be close to him, even if it wasn’t in the way she knew in her heart she wanted to be. And she would definitely stop thinking about him in that way. Because you just don’t think about your best friend’s boyfriend when you’re in bed alone, do you? She wasn’t that kind of person.

And it worked out. She found out he could indeed like someone like Rachel. And she was mostly pleased about it. Because she really did want him to be happy. And he was. She really thought he was. But the way he’s smiling now… she’s doesn’t think she’s ever seen him smile like that. No, she knows. She knows she hasn’t, because she would have remembered. Which is why she knows this is a dream.

It has to be.

Because he can’t really be looking at her like that, while they’re holding hands under the table, and his thumb is slowly caressing hers. And he’s twirling a piece of her hair around his fingers. And she joked about them having grandkids to startle him, only to find out he wasn’t fazed at all. He seemed to like the idea. Tim likes the idea of having grandkids with her some day and it felt like maybe it wasn’t even the first time the idea crossed his mind and he’s letting bad guys get away because he’d rather sit here with her, kissing her under a string of lights… So… She is definitely dreaming.

But the thing is, even though she has had some good ones, her dreams are never this good. And they never last this long. Usually, realizing she’s dreaming within a dream, makes her wake up. She’s not waking up now.

A sudden jolt of fear surges through her, making her blood turn cold. Because what if she’s not dreaming? But not awake either? What if… the thought gets its grip on her before she fully realizes it’s happening. It happened before, usually when she wakes up in the middle of the night, in the dark, and for a second she can’t make sense of where she is. It takes her back to the barrel. For a moment she feels like she’s still there. Still trapped. Like Tim never found her, never rescued her and breathed life back into her. What if he never found her, and this is her hallucinating a future that never happened, will never happen? What if oxygen deprivation is making her believe she’s with Tim, when in fact she’s moments away from dying all alone in a place no one will ever find her?

‘Hey, Lucy… Are you okay?’ His voice brings her back, anchors her. He’s saving her from being buried alive all over again, bringing her back to a tiny table, under the twinkling lights near a food truck named Treats of Vietnam, where they just shared a perfect kiss on a perfect night. She can hear leaves rustling in the soft breeze and he’s right beside her, close enough for her to smell the scent of the bodywash he used at the station. A scent that’s just as comforting as it is arousing. Tim’s here. She’s here. She made it out and this is really happening.

‘Y-yes. I’m… Yes.’

‘Really? ‘Cause you don’t look…’ His eyes are locked on her left hand that unintentionally went up to the spot on her ribs, right where what was supposed to be her date of death was tattooed on her skin by a madman. ‘Is this too much for you?’

He’s already pulling back, because of course he notices, and she panics.

‘No! Don’t move. Please.’ She grabs his hand in both of hers, keeping him there, right there. Because she’s not sure what she’d do if he lets go of her right now.

‘Okay.’ He looks a little panicked too, and she hates it. Hates that she ruined a perfect moment. She wants it back. Wants him to look at her like he did only seconds ago. Wants to see him smile again, just like he was doing just now…

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers.

His fingers move down her neck and shoulder, before he lets them fall away from her. ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.’

It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you. You did so good. I will take care of you.

His soft murmur, the low drum of his voice whispering to her had stayed with her, even though at the time she was sobbing too hard to be able to make out any of the words he was saying. But his bodycam caught them. And when she watched the footage during trial prep, she realized she must have subconsciously registered them anyway, because it was exactly what she had made the Tim-voice in her head say to her over and over and over again, every time she needed reassurance.

She smiles, in desperate need to stop him from retreating. ‘I’ve been in love with you for so long.’

He stares at her, one corner of his mouth tugging up just a little, before bracing himself. ‘You don’t have to say that–’

‘I know. I wanted to say it back when you said it earlier. I don’t think you realize how long I have wanted this… Or maybe you do. You’re pretty arrogant.’

‘Is it arrogance if it’s true, though?’

‘Okay. See… This is why I haven’t said it before.'

He laughs, his fingers still wrapped tightly around hers, pressing in a little more. She feels herself settle, things shifting back to how it was before she freaked out on him. It makes her think that maybe, it isn’t ruined yet. ‘So…’ he says, ‘tell me now. How long?’

‘Hmm. I’m not sure I feel like sharing.’

He’s just sitting there, looking at her expectantly, which somehow makes her give in without him even making an effort.

She shrugs, like it’s not that big of deal. ‘Okay, so… let’s just say that what happened in the interrogation room ticked a couple of my Hot TO Fantasies.’

‘Excuse me, your what now?’ And there’s that dumb look again. The one where his brain short circuits and he tries to get words out, but all he does is freeze. She kind of loves that look, actually.

‘Oh, you’re telling me you never had any?’

‘First of all, there was nothing hot about my TO.’

‘Really? I heard Smitty was quite the looker back in the day.’

‘Okay, just…’ He holds his hand up, and she’s not sure if he’s more appalled by the thought of him being trained by Smitty, or Smitty being hot. She can’t help but laugh. ‘You know what, you might be right, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this.’

‘Suit yourself.’

They’re looking at each other like they’re getting ready for some kind of showdown.

‘Hot TO fantasies,’ he repeats, like he’s trying to wrap his mind around the idea of it and it’s making her giggle in that nervous way, where she has to look away from him to get her bearings.

‘Don’t act surprised, you know what you look like.’

‘I was trying to put the fear of God in you, not…’ He trails off as he seems to get stuck thinking what else he could have put in her, and she feels brave enough to give him her most challenging look.

‘Would you like to finish that thought?’

‘I’m about to check you for wires.’ He replies in that deadpan tone of voice that’s so familiar to her. ‘You have a track record and I’m not convinced this whole thing isn’t some HR-trap I’m about to walk into.'

‘That is not how HR works, you know? It’s there to help employees navigate complicated situations such as dating a co-worker. They’re not about trapping people. Besides… where would I have hidden a wire last night? Hm?’

‘That’s… Okay… Good point.’ For a couple of seconds, he seems lost in the memory of the dress she wore and he has to physically shake himself out of it before he continues. ‘So, Lucy… Look, before I say anything else, I need you to know that when you were my rookie, there always was a clear line. One that I never would have crossed. If I ever made you feel uncomfortable…’

‘Oh, you made me uncomfortable alright. Every single day. But never in that way. Tim, this… what’s happening right now, I need you to know that this is not you taking advantage of me. I’m here because I want to be. It’s what I’ve been wanting for a long, long time. And I know you never thought of me like that when I was your rookie.’

‘That’s not… exactly what I said.’

‘You didn’t have to. I know. You were going to let me down easy when I pulled that prank on you on my last day as your rookie.’ She’s aware of the way she emphasizes the word prank. Because she knows there was a lot more to it than that and she stills feels a bit weird about it. He never called her out on it, though. Never questioned how she was able to come up with all of that in a matter of minutes. Like the confession had been sitting there for an eternity, ready to spill whenever the opportunity presented itself.

‘I was,’ he agrees, steady and unwavering. The exact opposite of how he reacted back then.

‘I know.’ It still stings a little. Because she waited quite some time before putting him out of his misery, and she knows part of her was holding on to a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t turn her down. That he’d give her some indication that somehow… ‘I scared the crap out of you,’ she continues before she can finish the thought and has to admit to herself that even though she wanted to prove him wrong on his estimation of her undercover skills or lack thereof, she also just really, really wanted to say all that to him and see his reaction.

‘You didn’t scare me,’ he says.

‘I totally did,’ she answers, twisting in her seat nervously. ‘Just admit it, you should have seen your face. You were beside yourself.’

‘Not because you scared me. I scared myself.’

‘Wh– How?’ She shakes her head, a little confused now.

‘Lucy…’ He looks at her, sizing her up a little. ‘You’re the most insightful person I know, but sometimes, when it comes to yourself, you can be so oblivious. Do you really think I wouldn’t know how to shut it down when a rookie develops romantic feelings?’

‘Well…’ She’d like to point out he obviously does not, but he’s so serious, she thinks better of it.

‘We are trained to deal with things like that, you know. And I trained a lot of rookies. It’s not like it never happened before.’           

‘Oh… yeah… I see…’

‘I don’t think you do.’ He’s looking at her with that soft expression again, that makes her go weak every time. ‘The reason I stumbled like I did, was because I knew how to shut it down. But I never thought I’d have to find a way of saying ‘not yet’.’

‘That’s… what you were going to do?’

‘I think so. Glad I didn’t though. It would have gotten pretty awkward, since you were just proving a point.’

‘I wasn’t just trying to prove a point, Tim. The secret to lying convincingly is to put a little bit of truth in it, and I didn’t even have to make an effort to make it sound like I meant it. What I said to you, all of it, were things I actually had been thinking about. A lot. Things I knew I could never say for real, and I just… I wanted to have an excuse to say them. But I regret it now, because I never felt this way about anyone before and it has always been so important to me. I never intended to treat it as a joke.’     

‘So… what you’re saying is… you meant it?’

She shrugs, biting her lip, and then she nods. Because yes, of course she meant it.

He relaxes a little. She can feel it, the way his body eases just the slightest bit. He looks pleased and she shifts in her seat, pressing her outer thigh into the inside of his leg more, feeling him press back.

‘There was a loophole that day,’ he says after a long pause, and she just knows he’d been debating whether or not to say it aloud. She feels almost desperate to hear it and she leans in closer, seeing his eyes darken in a way she’d never seen until she was standing in front of him in his office, as he stepped closer to ask her if she wanted to go out on a date. ‘It had never occurred to me before, but… I’d been thinking about it that entire last week we were riding together.’

‘What… kind of loophole?’ she asks, with thousands of butterflies dancing around in her stomach as he pins her with his gaze.

‘That day… after your end of shift… you weren’t my rookie anymore.’

She nods.

‘And you wouldn’t be a P2 until roll call next morning.’

She can feel her eyes go wide at the realization. ‘A loophole…’

He swallows and she can’t help but track the movement of his Adam’s apple in his throat. ‘A loophole. One night.’

‘And you…’ She isn’t quite sure what she wants to say, or what she wants to hear him say, because the implication is clear. One night. They could have had one night of just being Tim and Lucy. One night where he wasn’t her Training Officer, or her sergeant. One night when she officially wasn’t in his chain of command in any way at all. And he had been aware. He had thought about it for an entire week and… What if she hadn’t made that fake confession?

She suddenly remembers the way he looked at her in the parking garage, when he handed her her final evaluation. How she felt his eyes on her when she was reading it. And maybe, just maybe, she had seen him look at her like that before the night he asked her on a date. She had just been too pre-occupied with fake confessions and powder bombs to notice. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

She watches his jaw tick. ‘Because of… what I said in the shop?’

‘Because I didn’t think one night would have been enough for me.’

‘I– I don’t think it would have been enough for me either.’ There’s another long pause. He brushes a piece of hair away from her brow, and lets his hand trail along her arm on his way down. She smiles, beams up at him. ‘We would have had fun, though. Don’t you think?’

‘Yeah,’ he smirks, ‘I bet we would have.’

She vaguely remembers there was a time when she secretly thought Tim didn’t have any game, like at all. She’d seen plenty of women come on to him and he’d always been so… she’s not even sure there’s a word to describe how poorly he handled it. How awkward, and uneasy, and utterly disastrous he acted. But now, watching him watch her like this, she’s convinced he was just holding back as a courtesy. Maybe he was saving his game for her, careful not to show her any of it, because she wouldn’t have survived witnessing it. The ridiculous notion of him not having game is fading fast now, because she feels like he’s setting her on fire with his eyes alone. Never mind what his hand is doing to hers under the table.

‘I wanted to jump you in the van, when I set you up with the wire,’ she says, letting her eyes drift to the first button of his Henley.

‘I wanted to tear that green dress from your body,’ he replies without missing a beat.

‘I almost went to your room that night.’

‘If I hadn’t gotten that phone call, I would have come to get you.’ His hand drops to her hip and he pulls her into him a little more. ‘And if I had really believed the world was going to end, I wouldn’t have gone out without kissing you at least once.’

She gasps, and he just sits there looking at her, stroking her hand with his thumb, pressing into her hip with the other, and she can barely breathe. ‘I wanted you to take me home with you after Nyla’s wedding.’

‘Do you want to come home with me now?’

For a split second she’s startled, because she said she didn’t want to rush, and she doesn’t, but she also really, really wants…

‘It doesn’t mean we can’t still take things slow,’ he clarifies. ‘We don’t have to do anything. I just… I’m not ready for this date to end. You could walk Kojo with me… and we could… I don’t know, watch a movie or something.'

O my God, she thinks, Tim Bradford must be the cutest thing to ever exist. ‘Or something,’ she whispers, before she leans in to kiss him again. They never ate much at all that night.

Chapter Text

Tim’s watching her move around his place. He’s been watching her all night. Watching the lights in the trees cast their warm glow on her, watching the gentle breeze blow through her hair, watching her eyes sparkle and her lips curve in the softest smile. He watched her almost get knocked on her ass by 80 pounds of pure muscle, as Kojo practically jumped on top of her as soon as she kneeled to greet him. He watched her giggle and squeal as she tried to evade the slobbering mess of Kojo’s barely contained excitement. It took some time before he managed to get the dog to settle down enough for him to put the leash on.

He watched her fingers intertwine with his as they walked the quiet streets of his neighborhood side by side, arms brushing together, her shoulder pressing into his biceps. Kojo frantically bouncing between Lucy and every single tree they came across. He watched her sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of his living room as she played tug of war over a ropey toy until Kojo – finally spent – just laid there, surrendering to all that Lucy-love while she rubbed his head and belly.

When she got up to use the bathroom, Kojo bristled in a slightly offended way, before turning over to lazily chew his toy. And now Tim is watching her make her way back to him, realizing he’d be perfectly content watching her for the rest of his life.

‘Your soap smells nice,’ she says, scanning the room as she crosses it. Her eyes land on a picture of Kojo on the side table and she picks it up. ‘O my God, you framed this? That’s so cute.’

‘It’s a nice picture.’

‘It’s not the best you have. I’ve seen dozens of better ones on your phone. I even have better ones on my phone.’ She studies him for a moment or two.

He kind of knows what she’s after. And he’s kind of inclined to give it to her, too. But then he decides there’s no real need for him to be spelling it out. Because he knows it’s dumb. He has the actual dog right here in this house to look at. He doesn’t need a framed picture.

But… It’s not just any picture. And she knows it. It’s the one she sent him when she roped him into taking Kojo. And she has a point. He has better pictures. Lots of them, even. His favorite is one he snapped of Lucy and Kojo when she joined them on a hike that one time. It’s just her against a clear blue sky, Kojo looking up at her adoringly while she’s leaning in to kiss his nose. She looks pretty. And relaxed. And happy.

Afterwards he kept pulling it up on his phone, just to randomly look at it for a while. Then one night, he suddenly thought how nice it would be to put it on his night stand and have it be the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last thing before he goes to sleep. But there was no way he could actually do that without it being… weird. So he didn’t.
That’s when he came up with the idea of putting the other picture there. She wasn’t even in it, but he couldn’t look at it without thinking of her, so it was the next best thing. And as a bonus, not weird at all. He could almost believe it if he said it all really fast.

‘He looks so guilty, here,’ Lucy says, putting the picture down. ‘You can tell how sorry he feels for trashing our place.’

He knows she’s thinking of Jackson now. And in his mind, he sees her standing there that night, just a few steps from where she is now, wearing his clothes, asking for a hug.

She wanted to come to his room, she said. And he’d never come that close to acting on his feelings for her before. He just barely managed to walk away. Intentionally cutting the moment short, then almost going for it anyway when he made the mistake to look at her before turning away completely. She looked gorgeous and vulnerable and he almost lost himself in her eyes, reading a question there that he desperately wanted to answer. He remembers the pull. So strong he was reeling from it.

‘I hadn’t noticed then,’ she says. ‘That you kept it here.’

‘It was in another room back then.’

She nods. ‘Looks like nothing much has changed since the last time I was here.’

To him, everything feels different now. ‘Well, you know me. Predictable as hell.’

‘Hmm…’ She turns to face him. ‘You do have a way of surprising me sometimes, though…’

‘Want to come over here, and see if I can think of a way to do that now?’

She’s smiling shyly, her hand trailing along the plaid that’s folded across the back of the chair. Kojo huffs as she passes him by. Tim reaches out, grabbing her by the waist as she leans in. Her knee lands on the couch next to him. Her hair sweeps over her shoulder, tickling his face as he pulls her in. For a short moment, her boobs are right there in front of him, before she settles in close to his side.

He pushes the luscious curtain of hair aside so he can cup her face and kiss her. One of those sweet, needy sounds escape her throat and it stirs something within him. He can’t remember a time he felt like this with a woman. There’s so much he wants, that he doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. It’s maddening. It’s exquisite.

He drops his hand to her thigh, pulling her into him more as her leg gets tangled with his. He squeezes her a little, trying to feel more of her through the thick layer of fabric from her pants. She responds with a soft moan and leans heavier on his shoulder, while he moves his hand up her arm, then back to her face again, licking into her mouth, pouring all of his desire into her.

He’s already addicted to this. The way her lips feel against his, the taste of her and how they just… fit. He wants to touch-taste-kiss all of her at once. His hands find their way back to her thigh, grabbing her ass, making her lean into him even more, until she’s practically sitting in his lap. There’s something about the curve of her hip, the shape of her thigh. How his hands seem to be made to rest there.

He already knew that.

Maybe it even took him by surprise more than the airplane bathroom did. Because somehow, they hadn’t thought about practicing that. The easy touches. The physical closeness. They should have realized those were the things that would make them convincing as a couple. He’s not sure how they only focused on the kissing. Maybe on some level they both already knew those little things would come easy. A little too easy maybe? It still shocked him though, how natural it actually felt to put his hands on her when she leaned in, sat on the armrest of his chair.

After what felt like an eternity of not touching Lucy, absolutely never touching Lucy, unless it was a matter of life and death, it should have felt off somehow. Wrong. But it didn’t. And that’s slightly terrifying, because he needs to believe he would have never crossed that line when she was his rookie. But he also knows now that loving Lucy, and therefor touching Lucy, could never feel wrong to him. So what does that say about him?

He feels her smile as her hand slides down his chest, and then she laughs, breaking the kiss, leaning her forehead against his, trying to catch her breath.

‘What’s funny?’ he asks, moving her hair away from her face.

‘Nothing. Everything.' Her eyes sparkle the way they do when she's daring him. 'I just… I realized I’m on Tim Bradford’s couch, making out with him…’

‘Yeah…’ he says. ‘You are. And I’m pretty sure I just had my hands on Lucy Chen’s butt.’

‘I’m pretty sure about that too.’ She laughs again, her eyes darting from his, to his lips and back. ‘You can do it again, if you want.’

‘Yeah? You sure about that?’

‘Hm, hm.’ She moves her fingers back up his chest, biting her lip. ‘I like it.'

‘I like it too. I like it a lot.’

She hums softly, closing her lips over his, then opening them to have her tongue meet his. He leans back a little, making her put more of her weight on him. Her thigh moves over his groin, her knee digging into the inside of his leg and he has an image of her, just like this. Waking up with her, having her leg draped over him exactly like this. Spending an entire morning with her, lazily cuddling in bed, and how is he even thinking about something soft like that before even actually having sex with her? What is she doing to him?

He suddenly feels like flipping her. Moving her under him, covering her with his entire body. He just barely manages to hold back, but his hands are all over her. Moving over the curve of her ass, up her side, along her waist, slipping under her shirt. The only thing between his fingers and her warm skin is the soft material of the flimsy top she’s wearing underneath her shirt. He can feel the heat radiating off of her as he moves his hands over her back. She moans as he pulls the fabric out of the waistband of her pants. He bunches it up in his hand. Then he waits for her to react, for any sign that she’s getting uncomfortable with what’s happening. There is none.

He sucks the tip of her tongue, tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it, then softly nibbles along her jaw. His hand relaxes, fingers splayed across her back, the tip of his pinky and ring finger just barely grazing the exposed skin between her pants and top.

He moves to her neck, kissing and licking the ink on her skin, that he only got the chance to study once or twice when he let her drive the shop. The only reason he allowed her to do it, truthfully. The sound she makes, is one he immediately catalogues and stores away for future reference. He’s going to get her to make it again.

‘Tim…’ she murmurs, burying her face in his shirt and slipping her hand underneath, traveling up and down the planes of his stomach and now he’s the one groaning under her touch. It’s electric. And endlessly soft. He loves her hands on him.

She lets out a shaky breath as he first pushes the fabric of her dark shirt over her shoulder, before letting his fingers trail along the deep cut of the cream-colored top she’s wearing underneath, shifting the neckline to expose more of her skin for him to explore with his lips.

Kojo lets out a short bark. Tim barely registers the dog moving in front of the couch. Only when Lucy drops her hand to gently tap Kojo’s back, moving it away from under Tim’s shirt, he notices his dog prodding at her leg with his nose.

‘Kojo. Down,’ he commands. The dog sits, bristling, and he scoots to lick Lucy’s ankle. She giggles, wedging her foot between Tim’s leg and the couch, which actually isn’t the worst, but he snaps his fingers at the dog to make him stop being a pain in the ass, anyway. ‘Seriously. Quit it.’

Lucy bites her lip, laughing silently.

He smiles back at her. ‘When are we going to tell him you actually know me longer than him?’

‘Sshhh…’ She grabs his face, and pulls him towards her. ‘Don’t go making him jealous.’

The moment Tim’s lips touch Lucy’s again, Kojo gets up and drops his toy next to her.

‘No!’ Tim picks it up and throws it onto Kojo’s dog bed, near the couch. He nods for him to go after it, but the dog doesn’t move.

‘I thought you trained him!’ Lucy says.

‘I did. Your bad influence on him is what’s the problem.’

‘Sure it is,’ she teases.

‘Kojo!’ he tries again, staring the dog down. He gives another stern look towards the dog bed. ‘Lie. The fuck. Down.’

Kojo grumbles, clearly not amused, before turning around and dropping only half of his body on the bed in protest.

‘Good boy,’ Tim says, before turning all of his attention back to Lucy. ‘Now… where were we?’

Chapter Text

Lucy is not actually hearing a word Tim is saying. She’s aware. And all the while he’s talking, she’s thinking she should snap out of it. But she can’t. Screenwriters. That’s the word she got. But she isn’t sure why he’s talking about them. She can probably guess what he’s saying, because something about screenwriters always seems to really bug him, but she’s not sure how it’s relevant now.

She asked him about citizens academy, and she intended to listen, she really did. But then his hand started moving. And she was trying very hard not to look at those hands and think about how they’d felt touching her last night. So she focused on his face instead. But then his chiseled jaw with that light stubble got her really distracted, because she can still feel a slight tingle on her skin from all the kissing they did.

God, she’s never loved beard burn this much.

And there’s this spot, right in the crease of his neck and jaw, and she loves pressing her nose right there and breathe in his scent. Because he smells really, really good. Which she already knew from riding with him in the shop for twelve-hour shifts, day in, day out. But it's even better up close.

Like, unimaginably better.

And how is she supposed to deal with knowing all that? She used to be able to do this. Be professional with him. But… that ship has sailed.

His lips are still moving, and she’s trying to catch up, because the words are right there in front of her, but she’s unable to grab onto them. She just stands there, humming and nodding along, with her mind completely blank except for thinking he really has the best lips. And she needs to feel them on her like she had last night, practically all night, until they both were completely breathless, pleasantly numb and unable to move.

She’s pretty sure he made her mouth orgasm, which probably isn’t a thing, she knows that. But apparently, they made it a thing now. Afterwards, they were just lying there. On his couch. All tangled up, staring at each other like nothing else mattered, until she fell asleep on top of him, with him languidly brushing his fingers through her hair.

It was almost three in the morning when she drove home to try and get a couple more hours of sleep in her bed. And she almost didn’t make it back home at all, because he walked her to her car, and hugged her before she got in and before they knew it, he got her pressed up against her car door and she almost let him have his way with her right there on his driveway.

Part of her still can’t believe all of that really happened. It’s everything she’s been fantasizing about for years. Only it’s not. Because it’s better. She never imagined him being like this with her. This… enamored.

She might have imagined sex. Lots of sex. And maybe, when she really went all out, she let herself dream of something more. But she never really figured out how to picture being with him the way she wanted to. She certainly never could have imagined this. This adorably sweet, loving, all-consuming attentiveness he’s showing her. And she’s really trying to be professional here, but must he look this good? Just look at that body. She’s been pressed up against it for hours last night, and she still craves more. She can feel herself gravitating towards him, almost stepping closer but catching herself just in time. What was she going to do, publicly peel him out of that uniform? God, that’s a wonderful idea...

Man, she was doing so well. She’d been on top of her game, with the coffee and the Chagall exhibit, and everything… She wonders if he’s aware of how out of it she is. If so, he doesn’t show it. He might be crap at thinking of cover stories, but he looks a lot less affected than she’s feeling right now. Maybe he’s onto something with his ”nothing” approach, because in fact that’s the Timmest response possible. And he seems steady. Her mind is absolutely spinning and she tries to drag herself back to reality, here and now, the job she’s here to do. But she needs to know if she’ll be seeing him again tonight, because maybe, if she knows there’s more of him later, she can get her brain to function until then.

‘So… uhm… what are you doing tonight?’

‘Nothing…’ he replies in the same deadpan way he masters so well, but then there’s this tiny shift in his voice, and a flicker of something promising in his darkening gaze. ‘…I hope.’

It jolts her, the sound of his voice like that, and the way he stares. What he’s implying. ‘Nothing sounds perfect.’

She steps aside, dragging herself away from him to get on with her day, counting the hours until end of shift.

Chapter Text

‘You’re not fooling me, you know?’ Genny says, scooting over to him in the corner booth of the ice cream shop they’ve taken the kids to celebrate their win. It was touch and go, and Tim’s not sure who’s most surprised: the kids, the parents, Lucy and he, or the other team that had been thoroughly convinced they had this one in the bag. But, as he’s come to realize recently, miracles do happen every once in a while.

‘Fool you, how?’ he asks, trying to tear his gaze away from Lucy in a way that doesn’t draw more attention to the fact that he was, in fact, staring at her over there at the counter, helping a bunch of kids choose the most obnoxious combinations of ice cream flavors.

‘You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t even try this with me.’

‘I’m not trying to fool you,’ he insists.

She glares at him, the way she always does when she thinks she’s two steps ahead of him. Joke’s on her though, because she never is. And he’s not concerned about her figuring this out at all. Besides, two can play this game. He taught her that glare. He serves her one of his own and she backs down in surprise. ‘Oh my God, Tim! Are you admitting this?’

‘Admitting what?’

‘That you’re in love with her, you idiot. It’s clear as day. Does she know? Have you told her? You know she feels the same about you, right? The two of you are so obvious.’

‘We are not,’ he argues, just for the sake of it.

‘You’re not in love?’

‘We’re not obvious,’ he clarifies, looking over at Lucy again, right as she’s looking back at him. His sister all but shrieks, covering her mouth with both hands.

‘Can you just… you know… act like a sane grown-up person?’

‘Oh my God, you are in love with Lucy! I knew you were, but I was sure I was going to need to give you grief about it for at least another couple of months before you were willing to face it.’

‘We’re dating,’ he says quietly.

‘Dating? Don’t you mean you eloped? Have you seen yourselves? The two of you act like you’re married.’

‘Funny, Gen.’

‘Ohhh, you’re so happy, you’re barely even fun to tease. Look at you!’ She reaches out to… he’s not even sure what she’s trying to do. Squeeze his cheek? What the hell?

He swats at her hand. ‘Will you stop? We’re not telling people yet.’

‘Keep it up like this and you won’t need to tell anyone, dude. There’s an “I love Lucy” neon sign right above your head every time you look her way. Which is… practically all the time.’

‘You’ve had too much sugar,’ he says, pulling the tall glass of chocolate milkshake away from her.

‘Hey!’ She tries to grab the glass, but misses. ‘You’re mean.’

He pushes the milkshake aside, out of Genny’s reach. ‘You’ll get it back when you learn to behave.’

‘Yeah, you see…’ she says like she’s extremely underwhelmed, ‘there’s no bite to it when you do that now. That whole “tough guy” act isn’t fooling anyone when you’re practically glowing.’

‘Okay, so… I guess you’re never getting this back now, will you?’

Genny crosses her arms. ‘Or maybe I’ll just ask Lucy to give it back to me. See how you’ll stand up to her.’

‘So, that’s how it’s gonna be now, huh? The two of you ganging up on me?’

‘Oh, you bet. I’m already looking forward to it.’

‘Don’t even think about it, Gen.’

She just sits there for a moment, studying him. ‘I really like her, Tim.’

‘Well…’ He can’t help but look Lucy’s way again, just for a second. How does she look so damn cute in that ugly orange shirt? ‘It’s hard not to.'

He can’t help but smile, because not so long ago she would show up at things like this, and he’d pretend he didn’t care whether she did or not. He’d lay on the annoyance pretty thick, and she would look like she didn’t buy it. Which was why he could keep it up. The few times she looked hurt when he acted like he barely managed to put up with her showing up for him, he didn’t know how fast to backtrack. Because truth is, and has been for a very long time, that Lucy always makes his day better. And now he can finally let himself fully appreciate her.

Today was great. He loved having her there with him. He had fun. Genny might joke about them acting like a married couple, but she's not that far off. He feels this is different, too. How together they are. It's more than he ever imagined himself having again, and they're just barely scratching the surface of what's between them.

He thought he was okay with being alone. After Isabel there’d been this constant void in his life for such a long time. But he got used to it. He learnt to live around it. After a while he hardly noticed it was there. And eventually he didn’t mind anymore. Or, so he thought.

He thought he was doing fine. He loved his job. He got closer with Genny and the kids and spending more time with them was great. He even liked being in a relationship again, first with Rachel, then Ashley.

But.

In the end, it was still him being alone. He’d drive home after having dinner at his sister’s place and spend the rest of the night with his dog and couldn’t help but feel a bit… empty. He’d have Ashley sleeping next to him after a perfectly pleasant date night, and still feel like they weren’t really connected. He’d agree to go out for drinks after work, and he’d find himself not wanting the night to end, because he’d know he would feel the emptiness more afterwards. He can’t really explain it any better than feeling like somehow there was this thick wall, trapping him and his void behind it. Everything good in his life was always on the other side of it.

And then there was Lucy. Bright and cheerful, sweet, fierce, amazingly aggravating Lucy, chipping away at it and he hadn’t even noticed until she was on the inside, magically fitting into the void he’d been carefully guarding there and filling it perfectly. Because it had been a Lucy-shaped hole all along.

‘So, why are you keeping this a secret?’ Genny asks, startling him as his eyes got stuck on the bouncy ball of sunshine at the counter.

‘Because,’ he says. ‘Lucy wants to take it slow.’

‘And what do you want?’

‘I want her to feel comfortable. It’s already complicated because of work. And I’ve seen her with other guys. They come too close; she runs the other way. I don’t want to pressure her.’

‘Pressure her? We’re talking about Lucy, right? That Lucy…’ Genny nods towards the counter, where Lucy is pointing at a ridiculously colorful batch of ice cream that’s getting Tyler all hyped up by just looking at it. ‘I have a hard time believing there’s such a thing as “too close” when it comes to you. The two of you are practically glued together.’

‘Yeah, but it’s different now.’

Genny looks puzzled. ‘How?’

‘Just…’ He shifts a little, not sure whether it’s something Lucy would be comfortable sharing with his sister. ‘Like, with this last guy she’s been seeing… She didn’t like him calling her his girlfriend. She avoided meeting his parents and when he started talking about moving in together, she… she just got really overwhelmed. And she’s been like that with every guy she has dated, so…’

‘You are so clueless…’ Genny says, exasperation written all over her face. ‘You really don’t see this? She was thrilled to meet me. Practically begged for all kinds of information about you. Asked me to send her pictures. Kept texting me afterwards. She came over to help us renovate the house.’

‘Yeah, but…’

‘And now she’s helping you coach your nephew’s team. That’s not someone who’s afraid of things getting serious, Tim.’

‘That’s just Lucy. That’s what she does.’

‘That’s what she does for the right guy. You are it, Tim. You might not know it, but whenever you’re not looking at her, she’s looking at you in the exact same stupid way. I’m surprised it took you guys this long to figure it out. She’s right where you are and my guess is she’s been there for a long time. I didn’t want to say anything before, since you clearly weren’t willing to see what was right in front of you, but now…’ 

He takes another look at Lucy. It’s hard to stop once he starts. She picks up the cups of ice cream from the counter to hand them out to six pairs of grabby hands waiting eagerly.

‘You deserve this, you know?’ Genny offers in a hushed voice.

He’s not quite sure what to say to that. Because, to him, Lucy is the embodiment of all that’s good in the world. And he’s… pretty far from it. ‘No one’s good enough for her,’ he decides. ‘She deserves the world.’

‘And you’d give it to her if you could.’ Genny leans in a bit. ‘Look, I’m only going to say this once, so you better enjoy this…. She’s lucky to have you. You’re a pain in the ass and all. But, you’re also the best guy I know.’

‘I wasn’t, though. Not when we met. I was in such a bad place back then…’

‘You must have done something right.’

‘No, that’s all her. She just… She always had my back.’

‘You have a way of coming through when it matters, too. You always had my back, growing up. I know you hate it when I say it wasn’t all bad with dad. But it’s a luxury I have because of you. Because you took the brunt of it.’

‘I just happened to have a knack of pissing the man off, nothing more to it,’ he says, shrugging it off as he watches Lucy make her way back to their booth, with Blake and Tyler tagging behind.

Genny squeezes his arm. ‘I’m really happy for you, Tim. For both of you.’

‘Lucy! You can sit next to uncle Tim,’ Tyler exclaims while he slides into the booth on Genny’s side.

‘Hmm… I’m not sure, Tyler,’ she says, trying to look contemplative. ‘Uncle Tim is already stuck with me all day, every day. So he might be a little sick of me by now.’

Tyler laughs like she just told the funniest joke in the world. Which… okay, might be kind of true.

‘I’ll put up with you for a couple more minutes.’

‘Yeah?’ she asks, sitting down next to him and moving in close enough for her leg to press into his. ‘You sure?’

‘Pretty damn sure,’ he replies, only for her to hear. She takes a bite of ice cream, smiling around the tiny spoon as he drops his hand on her thigh under the table. She stares back at him, a hint of surprise in her eyes.

Genny is watching them closely, making no effort at all to hide the nature of the conversation they just had. There’s no way Lucy isn’t aware that his sister knows what’s up by now. ‘Oh, Lucy, would you please hand me that milkshake?’ she asks, looking at Tim defiantly.

‘Yeah, sure.’ Lucy pushes the glass towards his sister.

Genny thanks her sweetly, before sticking her tongue out at Tim like she’s Tyler’s age.

‘Never mind,’ Tim says, reading Lucy’s confused expression before she actually has the chance to ask what’s going on.

Tyler stops shoveling ice cream just long enough to point his spoon across the table. ‘So, uncle Tim… Lucy’s your girlfriend, right?’

Chapter Text

‘So… I’m your girlfriend, huh?’ Lucy has been quietly watching her boyfriend from the passengers’ seat of his truck, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea of it. It makes her soul soar, and her lips curl up involuntarily. It makes her giddy and a little weak, while at the same time she feels ready to take on the world. She likes how it makes him fit in this totally new place in her life, but it’s also the weirdest thing. Because it’s Tim. And he already feels like so much more than a boyfriend.

But still, the idea of him thinking of her like his girlfriend, and acknowledging her like that in front of his family, sends sparks of pure joy through her. She’s been on the outside looking in on his relationships for all of this time. And now, she’s suddenly in. She’s his girlfriend now.

He reaches over, the back of his fingers brushing the outside of her knee. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Well, you haven’t officially asked me.’

‘Oh, okay…’ He places the entire palm of his hand over her knee, making her stop breathing for a second. ‘I didn’t realize we were in Middle School. But alright… Lucy Chen, will you be my girl?’

‘Yes, Tim.’ She giggles, working her hand under his forearm to grab his thumb. ‘I’d like that very much.’

He whispers a victorious ‘Yes!’, wrapping his fingers around hers. ‘So… this means I’m going to need to give you my letterman jacket, then?’

‘I mean… is that really even a question?’

‘Guess not…’ He squeezes her hand and she squeezes back. ‘So, you’re okay then? With Genny knowing? I wasn’t going to say anything, but she straight out asked and denying just felt…’

‘I’m okay, Tim. Really. She’s your sister, it’s totally up to you.’

‘I just don’t want you to feel pressured. You were pretty quick with your explanation the other night, when she was baiting us.’

‘I wanted to make it easier on you,’ she says. ‘I wasn’t sure you were ready to tell her. But… since you have now, I can tell someone too, right?’

‘Knock yourself out. Although, you might want to wait telling your nosy puppy. Unless you don’t mind everyone at work finding out about us right after.’

‘Hmmm…’ She nods. He has a point there. ‘So, I guess I’ll be making up more cover stories to throw her off, then.’

‘You like this, don’t you? The sneaking around?’

‘Don’t you? You have to admit, it’s kind of exciting.’

He doesn’t answer immediately.

‘But that’s not why I like it,’ she explains. ‘I kind of like this being just ours for a little longer. You know, enjoy getting to know each other like this, without having to deal with all kinds of complications.’

‘Yeah,’ he says, pulling back his hand to make a sharp turn. She misses his touch instantly. ‘I like that too.’

She probably would have told Jackson by now. She briefly wonders what his reaction would have been and misses him fiercely. Being this happy makes her hurt for him, because he deserved to feel like this, too. And not being able to share it with him, makes her feel his absence deeply. He was her best friend. The one she could always confide in. She knows no one will ever be able to take his place in her life.

He sort of asked her about Tim once, after Tim decided not to take the promotion because he hadn’t finished training her yet. She dodged the question and Jackson let her off the hook, sensing she wasn’t willing to go there yet.  

Jackson caught her recording one of the audiobooks once, too. She made up a story about maybe starting a podcast and he walked out of her room laughing. She hadn’t stopped the recording and left that part in, because she thought it would make Tim laugh too. He told her it did.

She wonders if Tim kept the recordings after he passed his exam. She would love to hear Jackson’s deep belly laugh again. God, she misses him. And she regrets it a little now, that she avoided answering when Jackson asked if there was something more going on between Tim and her. The thing is, she had no idea how to answer the question, because it would have been “yes” and “no” and everything in between all at once.  

Maybe that’s what she should have said. She would give so much to be able to tell him, now.  

‘Well, this sucks,’ she says, trying to push past the heavy feeling that’s building in her chest. ‘Tamara is out, everyone at work is out. So who can I tell then?’

‘I don’t know,’ Tim says. ‘Just… pick someone you trust.’

She bites her lip, thinking hard. Seconds later she makes an excited, happy noise, turning in her seat a little to face him, catching the way he smiles. ‘Hey Tim…’

‘Hm?’ He makes use of the shift in her posture by placing his hand flat against her inner thigh, and it fascinates her. How much of her he covers with the span of his hand. It makes her stomach somersault.

She slowly traces the back of his hand with the tips of her fingers, moving from his knuckles towards his wrist and back again. ‘Have I told you about this hot guy I’ve been seeing?’

‘What?’

She laughs, because for a couple of seconds there, he’s glancing back and forward between the road and her, like he has no clue where she’s going with this. ‘I’ve known him for a while now. He’s really great.’

And then it hits him. ‘He’s hot, you say?’

‘Oh yeah…’ She places her hand over his, pressing him down on her leg a little more. ‘Like you wouldn’t believe. I’m really into him. He looks a bit like you, actually. You know, if I squint, there’s a vague resemblance.’

‘He does sound hot,’ he says. ‘And this time I don’t feel threatened by his hunkiness at all.’

She bursts out laughing, doubling over a little in her seat. He smirks looking her way, seeming endlessly pleased with himself and she’s flooded by happiness, by this feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the realization that he remembered. That he’s been paying attention to every little thing she’s said to him over the years, even when she annoyed the hell out of him. ‘So hunkiness is a word now, suddenly?’ she asks, just barely getting her voice to work through the sudden rush of emotion that’s getting a hold on her.

‘It’s a word when we’re talking about this particular guy.’

Another bubble of laughter rises in her chest, making him smile even wider. She watches as it happens, and she’s utterly amazed by it.

‘I’m seeing someone, too,’ he continues. ‘She’s gorgeous. I’ve been struggling all day to keep my hands to myself. I can’t wait to get her alone at my place.’ He moves his hand up over her leg, almost searing her leggings into her skin.

‘Now you’re just trying to make me jealous.’

‘Is it working?’

‘I hate all your girlfriends, so…’

‘No, you don’t,’ he says, with a soft, throaty chuckle. ‘You set me up with one of them.’

‘Don’t remind me.’

‘Well, don’t worry.’ He’s speaking in this low tone of voice that drives her absolutely crazy and his fingers are digging in her inner thigh in a way that does make her worry. About instantly soaking through two layers of clothing. And she thinks he’s aware, because he gives her this look that’s only making things worse. He turns her on more than she’s ever been in her entire life and she hasn’t even seen him naked yet. She’s not sure how much longer she’ll be able to resist, though. ‘You’ll like this one,’ he continues, ‘and I’m planning on keeping her around for a long, long time.’

Chapter Text

Tim is lost in her the second he has his arms around her. Which took him far too long. He’s been aching to all day, but he couldn’t with all those kids around, and Lopez and Harper showing up. Then he had to sit through the celebratory gathering at the ice cream parlor. Then he had to focus on driving when all he wanted to do was pull over and risk indecent exposure charges with her on the backseat of his truck. But they’re home at last. Which means Tim can finally kiss her properly.

So, he does.

Or at least he tries.

He’s walking her backwards, pushing her up against the wall as he blindly reaches to turn off the alarm system. Almost setting it off by accident, because her lips are far more appealing than the numbers he needs to hit. And he has plans that are distracting him. A lot of plans, actually. First on the list: maybe getting her out of that ugly orange shirt, that somehow fails to look ugly on her. But he’d rather see her taking it off, anyway. His hand is already slipping underneath, travelling up along the curve of her hip, pulling at the fabric until he feels the soft skin of her waist.

Just as things are getting interesting Kojo launches himself at them, and he needs to be fed and petted. So Tim tends to it, filling up Kojo’s bowls as Lucy takes care of the cuddling. He needs to have a serious talk with the dog soon. For some reason it seems to think Tim is bringing Lucy over just for him. Hands down, Kojo’s been the shittiest wingman Tim has ever had.

First by trying to mess things up with Ashley, even though Tim really didn’t need any help in that department. He’d been on top of that ever since the double date disaster. And now by trying to steal Lucy’s attention away from him the minute she sets foot in his place. But Tim’s not having it today. He’s been pretty considerate up until now, but he has to draw the line somewhere.

He decides to give Kojo a couple more Lucy-minutes as he gets rid of his own horrific orange shirt. He’s not her TO anymore, but he still likes to lead by example.

He walks out of his bedroom wearing a soft, fitted white T-shirt. Because he’s no fool. He has seen her look before. And he wants her to do it again, now he’s finally allowed to enjoy it. He might even get her to do a little more than just look.

She does not disappoint. Lucy is nothing, if not an over-achiever. Her eyes go wide as he stalks over to her. ‘That is not fair,’ she says, scrambling to get up from where she’s sitting on the floor, but failing because Kojo knocks her off-balance by bumping his fairly large head into her. ‘You looking like that, while I’m still wearing this! Kojo… go have dinner. See how delicious that looks…’ She’s directing him towards his food, but she’s very obviously not looking at Kojo when she says that last part.

Tim knows he’s doing a shit job of hiding his grin as he offers her his hand to help her up. ‘There’s no need for you to still be wearing it, you know…’ he says, pulling her to her feet.

‘Yeah, but I didn’t bring anything else, so…’ She steps closer, wrapping herself up in his arms, leaning into him. ‘Hm, you don't look like you have a problem with that.’

‘That’s a good observation.’

‘Did you forget you weren’t going to see me naked for a while?’

‘I did not,’ he says. ‘I’m just going by your definition. We’ve had our first date, second date, real kiss, and another one, and another one, and…’ By that point he’s kissing her again and judging by the way her hands are roaming over his body, he’s pretty sure they’re on the same wavelength about their activities for the rest of the night. Until Kojo feels left out again.

The dog huffs, and breezes, bumping into their legs and Tim drops to his knees, mustering a level of excitement in his voice that he certainly is feeling, but not towards anything relating squeaky toys. ‘Hey buddy! Aren’t you hungry? Look at all that food. That’s all for you! Here! Go eat.’

Kojo sniffs at his food a little.

‘Come on, man. Give me a break.’ He’s pleading now. And Lucy’s laughing, and Kojo perks up at the sound of it, clearly not giving a shit about the guy that took him in when he had no place to go, who gets up at the crack of dawn every morning to take him for a run, who takes time to grocery shop to serve balanced meals and treats and who occasionally even allows him on furniture even though he swore he would never ever stoop so low. ‘Okay,’ Tim says, getting up. ‘I know what you want. Come here, boy. Want to go outside and play? Let’s all go outside!’

Tim opens the door to the yard, steps outside with Kojo happily bouncing after him, then turns around and closes the door, effectively locking the dog out. Kojo stares at him in surprise from the other side of the window and Tim shoots him a look that says: you brought this on yourself.

‘I’m putting him up for adoption,’ he says, while turning to face Lucy.

‘Timmmm! No! You can’t. He’s our baby!’ A wave of panic visibly washes over her, right that second. ‘Uhm… No, I mean: your baby. It’s your dog. I didn’t mean…’

He crosses the room in a couple of large strides, thinking nobody panics cuter than Lucy Chen does. He grabs her for real now, finally giving in to the urge he’s been ignoring all day.

He has no clue how he did this before. Keeping her at arm’s length, pretending he wasn’t affected by her.

It’s like the dam has burst now. He’s feeling all these things he managed to push down for so long, and there’s no fighting it. How did he ever manage to hold back with her? Just a couple of hours of restraint is exhausting now and he’s not capable for even a few seconds longer. He’s kissing her like there’s no tomorrow, pulling her up to him with one arm wrapped around her waist, and his other hand tangled up in her hair, cupping the back of her head.

She clings to him, balancing on her tiptoes, making strained little noises as she tries to keep up with him claiming her mouth with his tongue. He bends over to better accommodate her, trailing his hands over her body soothingly as he lets her regain her footing. The soft hum she exhales makes him want to devour her, but he feels like maybe he should also let her breathe.

He glances over his shoulder to quickly check on Kojo, and sees him chasing butterflies like the dork he is. Maybe he’ll keep him after all.

‘Need anything?’ he asks, moving his fingers up along her arm. ‘A drink? Something to eat?’ He doesn’t want to let go of her, but more than anything else he wants her to be comfortable, feel good. So, if she decides she’s suddenly in the mood for a three-course meal, he’ll happily start cooking. Well, maybe not that happily. But he’ll do it.

‘Just you.’ She smiles in the sexiest way and he is done. He hauls her up, enjoying the surprised cry she lets out as she wraps herself around him. He carries her across the room. By now he’s more than ready to take her into his bedroom, but he settles for the couch instead. He’s been ready since “unless it is” or maybe even before that. Since: “It doesn’t feel like pretend.” Or: “I’d have some French fries if you’re ordering.” “We’re supposed to be hooking up in here,” also ranks high. So do a dozen other times he’s careful not to further explore because of how inappropriate it would have been. But now it feels so right.

He drops to the couch, with her straddling him, and she buries her laughter in his neck. ‘That’s impressive. You basically squatted carrying my entire weight.’

‘Hm-hm. I can do that.’

‘You’re so… manly…’

He’s pretty sure she’s teasing him, but he likes it anyway, more than he probably should. But before he has a chance to dive deeper into that her lips move along his throat and he can’t think much at all. He grabs her hips, pulling her flush with his own, pushing up a little as she grinds down on him. Shit, this is good. This is too fucking good.

His head falls back on the couch as Lucy’s tongue darts out, pressing little, wet kisses along his jaw, scraping his skin with her teeth. She’s rocking gently on his lap, breathing little puffs of air on his skin as she nips and licks and sucks and he wonders… if he fucks her at a really, really slow pace… Like, if they hardly move at all… That unmistakably counts as taking things slow, right? There’s no arguing that.

‘Tim…’ she whines like he’s the one torturing her, instead of the other way around and that’s when he becomes aware of the grip he still has on her hips, locking her firmly in place. He moves his hands up to the small of her back, slipping under her shirt. He’s amazed by the softness of her. The smooth, delicate texture of her skin underneath his touch.

‘You okay?’ he asks, trailing up along her sides, letting his thumbs brush her ribs, sending shivers through her.

‘Yes,’ she breathes.

‘Tell me when to stop.’

‘Don’t want you to.’ She pecks his lips, and he opens his, catching her top lip and the tip of her tongue. His thumbs reach a strap of fabric underneath her breasts. It feels soft, yet firm. Stretchy like some kind of sports bra. There are thin straps crisscrossing on her back and his fingers get stuck in them, making them snap against her skin, vibrating like strings of a guitar as he moves his hands along her back, his thumbs skimming the side of her boobs. It’s barely a touch the first time he does it. Just ghosting along the edge of her bra. Then he lingers. Moving up. Little by little. Letting his thumbs rest fully against the curve of her.

‘You can touch me,’ she says. ‘If you want.’

He wants. He kisses her softly. Once, twice, before pulling back just far enough to look at her as he moves his hands to her front, cupping her breasts gently underneath her shirt.

Her breath hitches. She leans into his touch, pressing one hand up against his shoulder. He is touching Lucy’s breasts. And they feel amazing, even covered by her bra. She fills his hands perfectly. He fondles her gently, tracing the lines of her bra with the tips of his fingers.

Her breathing is fast. Her lips are slightly parted. She looks at him with those huge, beautiful eyes, like she wants him to do ungodly things to her. Or maybe that’s just what he desires.

He runs his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them strain against the fabric under his touch. God, he wants to see her. He wants to see the little strappy things across her back. She’s been driving him crazy by showing him her bare back for ages now. Harper’s wedding. Vegas. Their first date. She knows how to play him, that’s for sure.

He also wants to see what she looks like filling up his hands like this. He wants to see her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her bra. Then he wants to see her without the bra. Without anything at all.

‘You’re so pretty…’

She squirms in his lap as he keeps touching her. He’s more than half hard by now, and there’s no way she’s not feeling him, because he’s feeling her, all soft and warm, pressing against his hard-on. It’s like they’re moving at warp speed, but agonizingly slow all at once. Like she was his rookie just a minute ago and now they’re here, doing this. He can hardly believe it’s happening, even though it’s been somewhere in the back of his mind for years, now. Hidden away far enough for him to pretend it wasn’t even there. But it was. And now they’re at this completely new place where none of the rules and restrictions apply anymore. It’s too much to comprehend, and it’s not enough. It’s. Just. Not.  

He hooks his fingers behind the thin double straps on her shoulder, tries to push them down. There’s a lot of stretch, but the straps snap back in place as soon as he lets go. He moves to pull the cup of her bra aside, but it’s so damn tight. He can’t get it down far enough, only manages to run his fingers underneath. She probably wasn’t kidding about the not getting her naked part. He’ll need a damn pair of scissors to get this thing off of her.

Then she laughs, in this soft and sultry way he has never heard her do before, and his brain fucking crashes with the freaking, dirty-cute hotness of that fucking new laugh. He shifts forward, wrapping one arm around her, using his forearm to keep her right there pressed up against him and she does it again.

He reacts to the audacity of her by giving her the filthiest kiss he’s ever given anyone in his entire life. She moves her hands to the back of his head, running her fingers over the shortest part of his hair to grab the longer strands on top.

She makes another sound, a throaty moan that he simply swallows as he forces his hand under the cup of her bra, finally touching her the way he wants to. And touching Lucy’s breast might be his new favorite thing in the world. She feels amazing.

She throws her head to the side, exposing her neck to him and he sucks that sensitive little spot right below her earlobe, making her fist her hand in his hair. Her other hand drops down, pressing it over his on her boob and he’s unsure if it’s because she wants to keep him there, or move him away. Maybe she’s not sure herself, so he immediately stops.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, pressing his nose to her skin, where she smells like her sunscreen, and shampoo and Lucy.

‘No. Don’t be. You’re not…’

‘You said slow. And this is not it.’ He drops back on the couch, forcing himself to relax his arm around her, pulling his hand back from underneath her bra.

‘I don’t want us to stop. I just–’

He sees it then, realization crashing through him as she briefly touches her ribs on the left side of her body. The exact spot his fingers brushed up against as he pulled back his hand. Did he touch it before? He must have. He feels a little sick, realizing what he just did. Where he touched her without thinking. How could he be so careless? ‘Lucy… I’m… I’m so sorry. Shit. I-’

Okay, this is not feeling a little sick. He feels like he might vomit.

‘Tim, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Please, I didn’t mean to–’

‘Don’t apologize. I should have– I just–’ He shifts underneath her. He’s having trouble breathing, but the last thing he wants to do, is make her feel rejected by pushing her away. ‘I can’t believe I just touched you there, without–’ He can’t finish a sentence. He can’t finish a thought.

It was never her belt she’s reaching for whenever she’s stressed. It’s not her radio. It’s that fucking tattoo. And he didn’t even…

‘Tim, please look at me. I need you to hear me…’

He snaps out of it immediately and regains focus. Because she needs him to do something. And whatever she needs, he will do. So, he nods.

‘I’m not upset,’ she explains. ‘I just got nervous. Because I… I need to show you something, and… I’m not sure what you’ll think.’

‘What do you mean?’ He has seen the tattoo before. Just a glimpse of it. But he’s seen it on the other women, so he knows exactly what it looks like. ‘What I’ll think? I don’t get to have an opinion. You don’t even have to show me, Lucy.’

‘I know. But I want to. I…’

‘You kept it?’

‘I changed it.’

He can’t help but smile, because he just watched her entire face light up. She’s obviously relieved she took control. She made it hers. It fills him with a sense of pride. That’s Lucy. That’s his boot. ‘That’s good.’ Shit, he’s getting emotional about it.

‘You haven’t seen it yet. You might think it’s weird. I actually considered asking you first, but… that felt even weirder…’

‘Ask me?’ He’s so confused. It’s her body. Why does it matter to her what he thinks? What anyone thinks?    

‘I was sure I was going to have it removed. Burn it off, like you said. If I covered it, I’d know it would still be there underneath, and I just…’

He nods. ‘I get it.’

‘But then, after what you said, I wasn’t so sure anymore. So, by the time I could do something about it, I didn’t. And the longer I didn’t, the more I actually did see it as proof that I survived. What you said to me, really helped…’ She takes a breath, her bottom lip trembling the slightest bit. ‘A lot. It helped me feel stronger, to not let it have so much power over me. The more I accepted it, the more I felt like keeping it. But then at times, whenever I had a bad day, or… after I’d woken up from a nightmare, I’d stand in front of the mirror feeling like he was still… taunting me. Because it was still his. His mark on me. Something he put there.’

He’s silent. Giving her space to talk her way through it, like she always does.

‘I never figured out how to make it my own, though. Until a couple of months ago. When I was doing the trial prep. I saw… footage I’d never seen before.’

‘They made you watch it?’ he asks before he can reign it in.

‘I wanted to. Did you… I mean, have you seen it?’

‘Yeah…’ There’s barely any sound when he answers. ‘I did.’

‘Oh.’ Her hand is on his stomach. Her fingertips resting right above his jeans. It’s close to where he was shot the second day of her training. He’s not sure she’s aware of it. ‘Why did you?’

‘I watched it the day you were released from the hospital.’ He didn’t want to watch it. He didn’t want to leave her side at all, to be honest. He wanted to take her home with him. Give her his room, keep her safe there. Take care of her, make her feel protected, until she felt strong again. Or he’d take her to her apartment if that was where she wanted to be. And he’d stay with her, right outside her bedroom, watching over her all night, every night for as long as she needed him there.

But the thing is she didn’t need him there. She had people around her to lean on. It was him who needed it. And by that point he knew he had to distance himself, or he might never be able to again. So, he let her go home with Jackson. And he went to the station. Did his paperwork. Watched her in that god forsaken barrel.

Strong Lucy. Brave Lucy. Undefeatable Lucy. Scared Lucy. Tired Lucy.

He watched her fight. Scream. Cry. Talk to herself. Whisper words he couldn’t quite make out. He thought he caught his name once. He watched her sing to herself. Go silent. He watched her breathing go shallow. Then stop. He watched her die.   

He wanted to stop the tape so many times, but he didn’t because she didn’t have the luxury of taking breaks when she went through it all alone. She couldn’t press pause and go for a walk in between. So, he sat there and watched her. Afterwards he cried in the shower for half an hour.

He’d seen her take her last breath. She’d been unconscious for minutes when he heard his own muffled voice call out “I got her.” She took her last shallow breath while they were digging to get to her. While he was working his way to her with bare hands. She hadn’t been breathing for at least a minute and thirteen seconds before he opened the lid of the barrel and pulled her out, trying to reassure her, let her know he was there.

Lucy, it's good...

If he’d been any later…

‘I watched it, because…’ He has to clear his throat before he can speak. ‘Because you’d been all alone in that barrel. I didn’t want you to carry that experience on your own too. I needed to know exactly what you went through. So, I made myself watch every minute of it.’

‘You… You didn’t have to do that.’

‘I needed to.’

‘Jackson told me, you know. About what happened that day. About what you did.’

‘Wasn’t enough.’

She tilts her head. ‘You found me. You saved me. I’m here because of you.’

‘That’s not true.’ He sounds almost offended. ‘You’re here because you’re the strongest, smartest, most resilient person I have ever met. You made me find you.’

They’d talked about this before. Briefly, because he will never allow himself to burden her with the guilt he feels for not being able to prevent it from happening. He will always carry that, and the only reason he can, is because he found her. He’s not sure he would have been able to come back from it, if he hadn’t. He found her. But he should have stopped it from happening in the first place.

I was standing this close to the guy. He still thinks about that sometimes. How he missed it. Or did he? He remembers trying to get a look at her phone when she was checking his socials. Ten bucks that isn’t even his dog. He remembers snatching the piece of paper out of that psycho’s hand and being so reluctant to hand it over to her afterwards. He distinctly and vividly remembers the compulsive need he felt to physically throw himself between her and that guy and tell him to fuck off. You got a last name there… Caleb?  

But he didn’t. Because he wasn’t in cop mode. He was being jealous. He didn’t know he was, at the time. He couldn’t make sense of how close he’d somehow let himself get to her. What it meant. What it would come to mean. Or maybe deep down he did, and denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt. Maybe he was so busy not being jealous… not acknowledging what was simmering just below the surface… so busy proving he wasn’t toeing the line little by little, that he overruled all his instincts and forced himself to back down. But he didn’t prove a thing. The minute he told her to go out and get that drink, he hoped she’d wanted to go someplace together to rewind. That she’d offer to do that instead.

If he could change one thing in his life, that would be it. Not Isabel’s addiction. Not her walking out on him. Not her signing up for the undercover-op that started it all. For a long time he would have moved mountains if it meant he could change the outcome of all that. But he wouldn’t anymore. He’ll never regret marrying Isabel, but he doesn’t regret divorcing her either. Because it brought him here. It brought him to a place in his life where he could sit across from Lucy Chen outside of the precinct and ask her if she wanted to have dinner sometime. And he wouldn’t change that for the world.

But if he could change one thing, it would be that night. He’d take her to some bar. Have a drink with her. Just one, so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like stare at her pretty face too long, openly flirt with her, touch her in some way he hadn’t before. They would just have a drink. Laugh. Relax a little. And he would keep her safe. Drive her home. Make sure she got inside, in her own bed and on time for rollcall next morning.

He knows Caleb would have found someone else. And they’d probably wouldn’t have been on time to save that person. And he feels awful about that. About the fact that he would make that trade. But it wouldn’t have been her. He’d give anything for it not to be her.

‘I was going to run.’ Her voice cuts through his thoughts. She sounds hesitant. Like she’s not sure she wants him to actually hear her. ‘Make him shoot me. When I saw the barrel, I…’

‘It’s okay,’ he says, while she struggles to get the words out. He can’t bear to see it. ‘It’s okay, Lucy. I’m sorry. For touching you like that and remind you of…’

‘Tim… no… that’s not it, I promise.’ She takes his hand in hers, lifts her shirt a little and brings his hand to her ribs, right below her bra. ‘You can touch it. See?’ She presses his fingers to her skin. ‘I’m okay with you touching it.’

‘I didn’t mean for you to have to relive it. You don’t have to talk about it. If it’s too hard...’

‘Is it too hard for you?’ she asks with a voice so fragile it makes his chest hurt.

‘No.’ She had to endure it, the least he can do is be there for her, to help her through when it catches up with her. ‘Whatever you need. I’m here.’

‘I want to talk about it. If you can.’

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘You said something to me… That I have no quit…’

‘You don’t,’ he reaffirms. ‘It’s what makes you so aggravating.’ He repeats the exact same words he said to her then, trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t work.

‘But I… I think I was almost ready to give up.’ She looks like she thinks she’s letting him down simply by admitting that. She nods, as if she’s coming to terms with it. ‘I was. When I saw the barrel… I wanted to run, so he’d shoot me and it’d be over with.’

‘That’s not something to be ashamed of.’ He feels her pressing his hand tighter against her skin. ‘That’s not quitting, Lucy. But even if it was, it wouldn’t be a failure. And it doesn’t matter, because you made all the right calls that day. And that’s why you’re here now. It’s all you.’

‘It wasn’t, though. It wasn’t just me. It was you, too. You helped me. The way you trained me, helped me. It was your voice in my head telling me to check for exits, to find a weak spot in the chair he had me tied to. To break free and attack him with the piece of the armrest I broke off. To make a run for it. I got free. And I ran… and…’

‘And he caught you again.’

She looks down. Nodding. ‘I fought, but I…’

‘I know,’ he says, brushing his thumb over her skin. ‘You did so good, Lucy.’

She’s teary-eyed when she looks back up at him. ‘He made me walk all the way to the barrel. He had a knife. And I was thinking of ways to grab it and use it on him. I told him it was going into his brain when I succeeded.’

‘That’s my girl,’ he says on impulse.

‘But I didn’t get a chance. And he mocked me, knowing it was an empty threat.’ There’s a little line appearing between her eyebrows as she’s silently going over things in her mind. She looks miles away. He’s not sure she still knows she’s here, talking to him. He feels her shiver and wants to draw her close and soothe her. ‘He had a gun, too. And I just… you know… I thought: anything but that barrel. That’s when he pointed out that in the barrel there was still life…’

‘It’s okay,’ he encourages her. ‘Just take your time. I’m in no rush.’

She sounds angry when she continues, defiant, ready for battle. ‘I was about to run. Because getting in that barrel, meant letting him win. He was so… patronizing. He thought he’d won. But I knew that you had seen him. That you would remember I was going to meet him that night and you’d figure it out. I knew you’d find me if I could just… hold on. That’s why I got in there. To give you time… to find me. I threw the ring…’

‘I’m so proud of you, Lucy. If you only knew…’ Great, now he’s tearing up too, because for her to be in that situation and put all her trust in him and not think twice about it… it’s just… He’s not worthy of it. The absolute faith this incredible woman has in him. No one has ever…

‘I want to show you now, okay?’ she asks. ‘I mean, if that’s alright with you.’

He’s not sure he’ll get any words out, so he nods.

‘Can you…’ She hesitates for a second. ‘Could you keep your hand right here? Cover it until… until I’m ready for you to look?’

‘Sure. I won’t move.’

She slowly lifts her shirt, revealing a strip of skin just above her high-waisted leggings. She pauses, before lifting it up further, uncovering his hand. She asked him to keep it there, so he does unflinchingly. And he waits.

She takes a couple of breaths, trying to calm herself. He keeps his eyes locked with hers to check on her and that’s when she decides to take her shirt off completely, stretching her arms and tossing the piece of clothing aside. He wanted her to do exactly that since he opened his front door and got her inside. But this is not how he pictured it, and he doesn’t allow himself to take his eyes off her face and wander down. Not even when the shirt is covering her face in the midst of taking it off. He makes sure she’s able to lock eyes with him the moment she looks back at him. He wants her to know he hasn’t taken them off of her, so he doesn’t even blink or breathe until her eyes meet his again. He watches her take another breath.

‘You decide when you’re ready, Lucy. I won’t look until you tell me to.’

‘I’m nervous.’

‘Don’t be. It’s okay. You can show me, I promise. But you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Do you want to put this back on?’ He uses his other hand to reach for her shirt, but she stops him.

‘No. I want to do this.’ She puts her hand on top of his on her ribs, then pushes it down, moving over her stomach and wrapping her fingers around his tightly as their hands drop between them.

He spends another couple of seconds looking at her eyes. 'I’m going to look now. If you’re ready.’

He waits for her barely audible ‘Yeah.’ before he allows his gaze to travel down.

There’s a dark shape where the letters DOD used to be, but he’s hardly paying attention to it. For a moment he thinks he’s imaging things. He’s considering he might have some kind of migraine that’s making him see things. Because somehow. Somehow… He’s staring at his own name, right there, edged on her skin. Which can’t be right. But it is. There’s no question about it.

He can’t move. He can’t even blink. He’s pretty sure he forgot how to breathe. She had his name tattooed right above the date that wasn’t her day of death. Next to a series of numbers that he immediately recognizes.

T. BRADFORD X81273768

D12919      T10:48:31Z

‘Lucy…’

‘I can explain…’ she whispers. ‘It’s…’

‘I know what it is.’ He does. It’s the watermark on his bodycam as shown in the top right corner of the screen: T.BRADFORD X81273768. And she had it tattooed right above the date that maniac put on her. Followed by the timestamp on his bodycam from the exact moment he brought her back to life. On 10:48:31 Zulu Time, his cam recorded Lucy Chen taking her first breath since he dug her out of the ground. It’s edged in his brain the same way it is on her skin now. He stares at the information he knows by heart until the letters and numbers become an indecipherable, blurry cluster of black lines.

‘I saw the timestamp when I watched the footage,’ she says. ‘And I suddenly knew what to do with the date. Because it wasn’t my day of death.’

He looks up at her face. For once he can’t get a read on her, because he can feel the tension in her body. And she looks worried, but behind it he sees a glint of happiness in her eyes, and the smallest upturn of her lips… like she’s about to smile.

He wants to say something, anything at all, but he can’t get any words out. His voice won’t work. He can’t get anything past the tightness in his throat. He opens his mouth to tell her he knows, he gets it. He wants to tell her: damn right, it wasn’t your day of death. But nothing comes out.

‘It was the first day of the rest of my life.’

His mind is stuck on his name on her body. And the way she touches it whenever she needs reassurance. She wasn’t reaching for her radio, or absentmindedly touching her tattoo as a trauma response. Whenever she’s overwhelmed, she’s reaching for him. And he does not know how to handle this. It’s too much.

The most important relationship in my life. And he’s not sure what he did to deserve it. He drops his head to her shoulder in gratitude. She instinctively wraps her arms around him and he clings to her as she cradles him, running her fingers through his hair.

‘I’m okay,’ she says. ‘I got out, Tim. You got me out.’

It’s like he’s trying to bury himself in her, pressing his lips to her clavicle, breathing her in. It’s only when he notices the salty taste on his lips, and feels the moisture where his cheek is pressed against her skin, that he realizes he’s crying. He’s not making a sound, but there are tears spilling and he’s unable to contain them, even when he tries to get a grip and his body is trembling from the effort it takes to try and force them back.

Because he remembers.

He remembers her lifeless and still. The sickening crunch of her ribs beneath his hands as he broke actual bones in her body to bring her back to him.

He knows it was precisely thirty seconds. But it felt like a lifetime. It felt like he spent centuries fighting for her life before he got her back. It felt like time didn’t move at all.

‘You found me,’ she whispers.

‘I wish I’d gotten there sooner. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.’

‘But Tim… You found me…’

‘I did.’ He kisses her neck, her jaw, a random spot on her chin while he takes her face between his hands and looks at her. It hits him again, washes over him just like it did after he told her “Unless it is.” The absolute certainty of knowing she is it for him. He will marry this woman if she’ll have him. And he might make her wear her bodycam so he can record the exact moment she says “I do” and tattoo the timestamp somewhere on his body, L.CHEN X81278011 with the date and time of their wedding, because that will be the first day of the rest of his life.

He found her. And when he pulled her out of that barrel, he didn’t only save her life. He saved his. He pulled his entire future out of that thing. Their future children and grandchildren. He found her. ‘I’m so happy I did.’

‘I never realized you were the only one there,’ she says.

‘We were all there,’ he replies.

‘No, I mean… when you found me. I never realized until I watched the footage. You were with Jackson, and you told him you should split up, and then you… you walked straight at me.’

‘I caught the glint of your ring.’

‘No. Before that. You found the ring because you’d already been walking my way.’

‘I…’ He remembers how desperate he was. How he could barely hold it together. How hard it was to breathe, and how he felt like he was drowning in all that space around him, the immensity of it. It threatened to swallow him, trample, obliterate him. He doesn’t know what lead him to her. He just walked, driven by instinct and some kind of pull he couldn’t explain. It must have been luck. He’s not the type of person to believe the stars aligned or something vague like that. But it ended up being him, at exactly the right place, with not a moment to spare. And he can’t explain a miracle like that.

‘In my mind, I was calling out for you,’ she says. ‘The whole time I was praying for you to remember him. I was talking to you in my head. Please, remember him. Please, find me. Please, come find me. I started singing because I was so frantically calling out to you that I couldn’t control my breathing.’

‘That was smart. You’re so smart.’

‘But now I think, that… maybe… you heard me. Not like actually hear me, but…’

She looks too vulnerable. He knows her strength, but right now, he just wants to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe forever. And he’s not the type of guy to believe in destiny, or guardian angels guiding him or whatever, but he finds himself saying: ‘Maybe I did.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I don’t know how it happened. I’m just really happy it did.’

‘Me too.’ She smiles, touching the ink on her skin. ‘You don’t seem… that weirded out by it…’

‘I’m not. I can’t believe you did that, but… I think it’s an honor.’

‘I kind of love it, now. It’s not a reminder of him anymore. It’s not about what he did. Him taking me. It’s not my day of death, like he intended. I made it about the moment you brought me back. And now, whenever I see it, or touch it, that’s all I think about. How you… came for me.’

‘Anytime, Lucy.’ He’s not sure what else to say. There are no words to express what he feels, right now. For once, he wishes he’d be more of the talkative type. Someone who knows exactly how to say things. ‘Cause here she is, putting his name on her body permanently, and telling him it makes her love the physical reminder of the worst thing that ever happened to her. He wants to respond to that, say something equally meaningful, but he can’t think of anything that will even come close to conveying the love he feels for her. Everything falls short. So, he makes a promise instead. ‘I will always come to find you.’

He reaches out to touch her hair, carefully twisting a thin, wavy strand around his finger before releasing it and tucking it behind her ear. He traces the shell of her ear with his fingers, and lifts his other hand to brush her hair away from the other side of her face. He cups her cheek in the palm of his hand, and she closes her eyes, leaning into it.

He kisses her forehead, then leans into her, her nose touching his. They’re so close, he can feel the tickle of her lashes on his skin as she opens her eyes. He brushes his lips against hers, kissing her softly, slowly before meeting her eyes again.

It feels like a wordless conversation, the way he presses kisses all over her face in between long, lingering looks. Finally, he sits back, letting his fingers skim the letters on her body.

‘It’s a moon,’ he says, touching the dark shape that covers what had been the first two letters of the tattoo. He can’t find them anymore, even after studying closely.

‘Yes. It represents new beginnings.’

‘And your ring?’ he asks. ‘It’s a moonstone ring, right?’

‘It is.’

He looks at it some more, tracing the shape of the moon on her body. ‘It’s beautiful.’ He runs his fingertips over the date and the timestamp. Then runs them the other way, touching the numbers of the watermark backwards, all the way up to his name, until he reaches the T.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he whispers before pressing his lips to the ink.

Chapter Text

Tim is touching the ink on her skin carefully, almost reverently. It’s the first time Lucy has ever let anyone look that closely. Both men she dated post-barrel had been easy enough to distract when they made any attempt to see that part of her. Avoiding it hadn’t been that hard, really.

She’d become pretty agile in redirecting a guy’s hands when they got close to exploring the area. She’d made sure she’d only undress in the dark. Kept her top on in bed. Avoided positions that made her feel too exposed. It really isn’t that much of a challenge to get guys to lose focus on what they’re doing or where they’re going. Lucy can be very persuasive, if she wants to be.

Her relationship with Emmett ended abruptly before her reluctance had a chance to become an issue. Or he hadn’t bothered to address it before ending things with her. Anyways, sex with him had always been quick and heated. They rarely lasted long enough to even get to a complete state of undress.

With Chris things had always felt more subdued. She had told him from the beginning that she wasn’t comfortable with him seeing that part of her. He'd been understanding mostly. The Humming Incident, as she referred to it in her mind, might have had something to do with that. He’d been well aware he already was on thin ice. Being a dick about this too wouldn’t have done him any favors. He’d never questioned her not getting fully naked with him. Never pushed for it either.

When she decided on getting the tattoo fixed, she was only a few dates in with Chris. She hadn’t really considered him or his feelings. She felt strongly about getting it done. She needed to do it for her. It was her body. Her decision to make, and hers alone.

She contemplated getting Tim’s opinion, since it’s his name she was going to put on her body permanently. In the end, she didn’t though.

And she sure as hell wasn’t up for discussing it with Chris. She figured there’d come a time eventually when she’d be ready to let her guard down with him. She’d tell him then. She didn’t have a clear idea of when that would be. How long it would take her to get there. She was only sure she wasn’t there yet.

Then one evening, when she was getting ready for bed, she miscalculated the time she thought he needed in the shower and he walked in on her applying her aftercare lotion. With her pulling her shirt down at the speed of light, he couldn’t have seen much more than just an extra row of letters and numbers. Maybe he wouldn’t even have noticed at all, if not for the intensity of her reaction, but she couldn’t undo it. He asked what made her so jumpy. She brushed him off, not wanting to share any details on how she added to the tattoo and what it meant to her.

For once he didn’t let her distract him by gushing over the great sushi place he picked for dinner. He got in bed. So did she. And they lay there in deafening silence. She could tell he was hurt by her not letting him in. Irked by it. Maybe even a bit upset with her. But he didn’t voice any of it and she wondered if he had seen more than she thought he did. Wondered if she owed him an explanation. He was her boyfriend after all. And she had put another man’s name on her body. Didn’t he deserve to know that?

She came close to telling him, driven by the pang of guilt she felt every time Tim crossed her mind in a way that she knew should have been reserved for the man currently in her bed. But every time she tried to get the words out, any words at all concerning the changes she made… she just couldn’t. She couldn’t share that part of her with him. It was hers, and she wanted to keep it that way. Protect it.

With Tim it was different. He’d also caught a glimpse of it when she wasn’t expecting him to be there and in that one brief moment, he managed to change the way she felt about it. The tattoo was hers to live with. It had happened to her. But he’d been right there with her through all of it in ways she didn’t even know about at the time. Jackson filled in some of the gaps. And then there was the footage of his bodycam, helping her get the full picture. Or at least she thinks she’s got it now. Maybe he’ll never tell her everything he went through that day.

She doesn’t need to make him part of it. Because he already was and always has been. She has seen herself come to life under his hands. That frantic first breath. The sound he made when she took it. It made her stop breathing as she was watching it.

Seeing it was so different from how she remembers it. When she came to, she couldn’t make sense of what was happening at first. She didn’t realize he was there with her. Didn’t even know where she was. The sun was beating down on them, blinding her with tons of white light. She couldn’t see a thing. Couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open or not. For a split second she thought she might be dead and her next thought was: heaven smells like Tim.

Then she felt his touch. Heard him speak. And she just broke down.

You’re alright. You did so good.

She hadn’t caught onto the words at the moment, but she heard it was him. He was there. Next thing she knew, she was surrounded by him, as he cradled her and held her close.

The footage showed someone else reaching for her. Jacksons hands, carefully approaching her. He must have been close by, but before he could even touch her, the screen went black. At first, she thought the clip ended there, but the timer kept going. She realized then that her shaking, sobbing body covered Tim’s bodycam, as he held her.

The recording ran for another two minutes after she regained consciousness. She sat there, watching the counting of seconds on the timer in the top right corner. Two minutes of staring at Tim’s name on a black screen, listening to the sound of his voice whispering to her.

It’s okay. I will take care of you.

And he did. He hadn’t left her side after he pulled her out. Didn’t let go of her for a second longer than was absolutely necessary. She’s not sure how long they stayed like that. Long enough for her to tire herself out. Other sounds started to register. Footsteps. People running around, radio’s crackling. She heard Grey giving out orders. She thinks she heard Nolan, too. And maybe Nyla? She shut it all out, paying no mind to the sharp edge of his badge cutting into her cheek as she clung to him. As long as she felt it, she knew it was real. He was there.

Later, in the hospital, she found out everybody had been there. So, she assumed they’d all been around when her burial site was discovered, too. She hadn’t realized Tim was the one that actually found her. That he had started digging for her on his own, just his bare hands tearing through the earth. How the lid wouldn’t budge at first until he forced it open. How he immediately started talking to her. Lucy, it’s good. The way he took control and took care of her.

It hadn’t been just Tim when she woke up, but it might as well have been, because her world had shrunk down to him. He shielded her the entire time. Whispering to her, protecting her, keeping her warm, soothing her.

He didn’t let go of her when paramedics arrived. When they were trying to put her on a stretcher and she absolutely panicked, he told everyone to back the hell off. He scooped her up and carried her to the helicopter himself. He refused to leave, climbed in and sat next to her, holding her hand as they took her blood pressure and administered fluids and some kind of sedative and pain relieve. Anchoring her by resting his other hand on her head as she was forced to lie down. His fingers moving slowly through her hair on the top of her head, his thumb brushing her forehead lightly. His eyes on hers the entire time.

I’m here, Lucy. I’m right here. You’re safe. You are going to be fine. Look at me, Lucy. Focus on me. I’m not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere.

She doesn’t remember landing, or arriving at the hospital. I’m not going anywhere. She was in and out during examinations. You’re safe. You are going to be fine. He was waiting for her when she got moved to a private room. She remembers him walking beside her bed, still in uniform, staying in her line of sight as they moved through the building, down hallways, into the elevator. I’m here, Lucy. I’m right here. She remembers realizing she wasn’t feeling his badge anymore. Wasn’t breathing in the scent of him. And she was struck with fear thinking she must be delusional. Just imagining him there. Maybe imagining herself there too, her mind playing tricks on her while she was still buried and running out of air. She remembers asking him if he was real. She doesn’t recall him answering or them arriving in the room. But he was there when she woke up.

She was flooded by all those flashes of memories, while she sat frozen in her chair at the DA’s office, glued to the screen of the lap top in front of her. The echo of Tim’s voice on the recording still stuck in her mind as she stared at the watermark of his bodycam.

T. BRADFORD X81273768.

And the date right under it. D120919.

The date that serves as a permanent reminder on her skin.

That’s when it clicked. She instantly knew what to do with the tattoo. Because it didn’t end with Caleb marking her with her day of death and burying her in some deserted place. He didn’t finish her off. And he might have started that tattoo, but she would be the one completing it.

And she did.

It took her some time to actually go ahead with making the appointment. Not because she wasn’t sure. She knew this wasn’t something she would ever change her mind on. The actual tattooing was the thing she wasn’t looking forward to. Having to lie completely still and feeling the needle at the exact same spot would sure as hell be triggering. If she could have figured out how to bring it up with Tim, she would have asked him to go with her when she had it done. In the end she couldn’t bring herself to.

When she eventually did make the appointment, it was more or less on a whim. She spent an hour to find a decent shop and booked an appointment for her day off. The entire time she was lying there, she had Tim’s voice in the back of her mind, trying to focus on calming herself and tune out the buzzing sound of the tattoo machine.

I’m here, Lucy. I’m right here.

She knew she was fooling herself. He was miles away, perfectly happy with Ashley. Because they didn’t and what else was there to talk about?

Miles away at Mid-Wilshire, hardly noticing her absence and completely content with whoever he replaced her with as his aide. Aaron. She knew it was Aaron, because she pried it out of Nolan.

Miles away, because he told her to move on and she had listened. That’s what she does when he gives her an order. She listens. Only she wasn’t capable of following through on this one. If anything, this time apart had proved moving on from him was impossible for her. And now she had made sure it would never be a possibility.

All she wanted to do when she left the tattoo shop was to call him, even if it was just to hear his voice. She wanted to tell him so badly, but honestly any excuse to just talk to him for a minute would have sufficed. Somehow she managed to resist the urge though, maybe because she was terrified she would pour her heart out the second she’d hear his voice and she’d unleash all of her stupid feelings on him. She met up for a drink with a couple of guys from her training instead. And then, days turning into weeks, turning into months, it felt weird to mention it. At that point she was sure he was never going to find out, anyway.

Unless he was.

And here they are. He’s pressing the softest of kisses to the inked numbers and letters, almost making her cry with the tenderness of it. Suddenly she is allowed to have all of her stupid feelings. They’re even being reciprocated. And she feels so lucky to have someone she can show all of herself to without fearing he won’t be able to handle it.

He looks up at her, his fingers still grazing her skin. ‘You’re not worried you’re going to regret this? What if I annoy you? Upset you? Piss you off?’

She shakes her head. ‘Won’t matter.’

‘You say that now…’

‘No, I’m sure. You are aware you annoy me on a daily basis, right?’  

He opens his mouth to protest and she presses her fingers to his lips to keep him from talking.

‘You do!’ she insists, trying not to laugh as he looks downright offended. ‘I was mad at you when I got it done.’

‘Mad at me? Why? When?’

‘A while ago,’ she replies, tracing the stubble on his jaw. ‘I figured; it was the safest bet. Being that livid and still wanting to go through with it, is practically a guarantee I won’t ever regret it.’

‘Wait, you were livid? What the hell did I do?’ He’s visibly wrecking his mind, running things over at a rattling pace. ‘Was it when I told Grey not to say anything about the surgery?’

She shakes her head.

‘The radio-thing?’ he tries again, ‘Because I wouldn’t talk to you?’

‘No,’ she says. ‘I wasn’t mad at you then. I was worried.’

He hums, contemplating. ‘When I assigned you to do all that paperwork with Aaron? Or wait… When I didn’t want to go to that weird place you suggested for lunch?’

‘It wasn’t weird! Vegan is the future, Tim. I told you; the way people are eating isn’t sustainable in the long run and if we want our grandkids to have any kind of future at all…’

‘Okay!’ he says. ‘I’m aware of that, but a vegan steakhouse is taking things too far and there’s no way you’re going to convince me otherwise.’

‘You’re just worried you are going to like it and you will have to admit defeat. But you and I both know I’m going to wear you down eventually, so you might as well just give in right now and get it over with.’

‘Okay, well, before you turn me vegan, could you please tell me what I did to make you mad? I still have no clue and I’m running out of ideas.’

‘Maybe I can’t remember…’ she tries, running her fingers down his neck, playing with the neckline of his shirt. She’ll just start her distraction protocol and they won’t have to get into all of this. It’s Tim, and he knows her better than anyone, but in the end, he is also just a guy. Can’t be that hard.

‘Cute,’ he replies the way he usually does when she tries to outsmart him, but it hits different this time, ‘cause now – judging by the way he smiles, and nudges her, making her bounce on his lap a little – she thinks he actually means it. ‘Come on, tell me.’

With a jolt she realizes he might always have meant it and it startles her so much, she just gives in and tells him. ‘I got it when I was away for Undercover Training.’

His eyes narrow in confusion. ‘You were mad at me then? Why?’

‘Just because, Tim!’ She can’t believe he’s shocked to hear it. How could he not know? He left her crying in the hallway for god’s sake. ‘It… I… It doesn’t matter, okay? It’s not…’ She shifts away from him, trying to lift herself from his lap, but he keeps her there, putting his hands on her hips.

‘Don’t move. Please, I don’t want you any further away than this. Just talk to me. It matters to me.’ He looks at her and it’s the look that used to be so rare. Reserved only for things like “veggie burger and fries, extra pickles?” and “I haven’t finished training you yet” and “You deserve to be recognized” and “Lucy, you deserve someone who’s worth the effort”. Okay, so maybe not that rare. But it has never been given so abundantly as it is now, which makes it both familiar and brand new all at once. It makes her tingle in all kinds of ways. ‘Alright?’ he asks, his voice soft and encouraging.

She nods, letting out a shaky breath. ‘You sent me away.’

She’s looking down as she says it, staring at the white fabric stretched deliciously over the wide expanse of his chest, rising and falling in time with his breathing. He’s silent. He’s listening, she realizes. Waiting for her to explain how she felt. So, she does.

‘I know you said you were only looking out for me, but it didn’t feel like that. It felt like you… you didn’t want to talk about what happened and wanted to get rid of me, so you could forget all about it.’

‘That was not what I wanted at all.’

‘I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to be away from you.’

‘I didn’t want that either,’ he says. ‘Walking away was the last thing I wanted to do.’

‘Then why did you? We hadn’t even talked about what almost happened. And when I mentioned it, you made it clear you didn’t want to, and you just told me to move on and… it hurt.’

‘It was hard for me too, Lucy. But you love UC work, and you’re so good at it. I couldn’t let you waste an opportunity like that. I thought it was what you wanted.’

‘So did I. But it's not all I want. Things are different now. I’m different and… there are other things I might want.’ Her eyes are back on his shirt. She touches it, feeling the softness of it. It smells clean in that comforting Tim way. She loves the smell of his laundry detergent almost as much as she loves the smell of him.

He gently lifts her face, making her focus on him. ‘What other things?’

‘Things I didn’t know I could have before. But now I think, maybe I could have them. Things like… you know… having a normal life… Being happy…’ She takes a beat to gather courage. ‘With you, maybe…’

‘Lucy, I know I haven’t always been supportive, but this, us, can happen without you having to give up on doing what you love.’

‘I love it, but... those six weeks in Sacramento felt like an eternity and… in fact, I was miserable the entire time. I missed you so much. It felt like time didn’t move, and I wanted to hear your voice so badly. I lay awake every night thinking about calling you.’

‘You could have called. Why didn’t you?’

Why hadn’t she? There were all kinds of reasons. Hating him being the main one. Closely followed by loving him. Missing him too damn much and not knowing if hearing his voice would make her pack her stuff and bail on the training without second thought. Her thinking about kissing him constantly, in complete and utter disregard of his pretty blonde girlfriend and her own relationship as well. Fearing he regretted coming in that night. Fearing she had ruined everything by asking him to. Fearing she’d lost the part of him he’d been willing to let her have, because she couldn’t make herself stop wanting more.

She can’t tell him all of that, so instead she asks: ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘I texted.’

‘You texted: Good luck,’ she says. ‘Two words.’

‘And if you had texted back, I would have too, and we would have had a conversation. That’s how that works, you know?’

‘Oh really? May I suggest a crazy thing called asking the other person an actual question next time you want to start a conversation?’

‘Well, I’m sorry my attempt wasn’t up to your standards. I’ll do better next time. And I’m also sorry for not realizing how infuriating I can be. And… for making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. And for being the idiot that made you think he wouldn’t jump at the chance to be with you. Because I wanted to be with you, Lucy. I wanted to break up with Ashley, and for you to end things with Chris. I’m sorry I didn’t say It, but I didn’t know where you stood and I thought you had enough to deal with. I didn’t want to make things harder. Anything else you need me to apologize for?’

‘I can probably think of several things.’ She looks down at where she’s touching him, lips curved into a smile she is unable to hold back.

‘Lucy…’ He sounds so serious, so sincere, it makes her look up and pay full attention immediately. ‘I really need you to know that when I walked in after you, my mind was made up. I didn’t think it all through and it would have been messy, both of us being with other people and all that. In the end, I think what we’re doing now is so much better, because you’re worth doing it right for. But if things had gone different, and we wouldn’t have been interrupted, I need you to know that I paused long enough to know what I was doing, and there’s no way it would have ever felt like a mistake to me.’

‘See now…’ she says, moving her fingers from the neckline of his shirt to the edge of his short sleeves, and trying not to show how choked up she feels. ‘Would it have killed you to slip that part in when you were giving that whole hallway speech?’

He laughs gently. ‘I should have. I hated the idea of not seeing you for weeks. Every time I had a day off, I thought about driving out to see you, so I signed up for all the extra shifts I could get my hands on just to distract myself. Which didn’t really work, because somehow Mid-Wilshire isn’t the same without you bouncing around.’ He smiles. ‘I really missed you, too.’

‘You didn’t get a tattoo for me, though,’ she says, trailing her fingers over his biceps. ‘So, I win.’

‘I didn’t get one yet,’ he replies, his eyes following her touch. ‘You seemed into it when we were undercover, so I might be persuaded to get a nice little sleeve or something with your name on it.’

‘You’re gonna go full sleeve, huh?’

‘Hell yeah.’ It’s close to his impersonation of Jake when he answers. But the look he serves her says: come on, now. What do you take me for? and that’s all him. ‘Can’t show up with a tiny little thing for my girl now, can I?’

She throws her head back in laughter, knowing it would be so far from anything he would ever do, but liking the image that pops up in her mind anyway. There isn’t a look in the world that wouldn’t work for him. He would pull it off and make it super-hot without even having to try.

She’s still giggly when she looks back at him, but he immediately shuts her up with the way he’s staring at her. His eyes drift over her chest and down her torso, taking in the exposed skin above her waistline. When their eyes meet, he looks downright hungry. No. Starved. Like he wants to sink his teeth in her and feast on her. And she has no doubt she will let him.

His hands drop down to her hips, and he pulls her towards him as he leans in. There’s an echo of his voice in her head. My girl. For my girl. That’s her now. She’s his, and he’s all hers. She’s pressed up against him and as he leans in, she feels him everywhere and she unravels. She practically throws herself at him, grabbing his face in desperate need of his mouth on hers. He seems to be exactly on the same page, opening her lips with the swipe of his tongue and moaning into it. She doesn’t think she has ever had a guy make a sound like that just from kissing her. It makes her go wild with need. She needs more of this. More of him.

Her hands move to his neck and the back of his head. The bouncy prickle of his shortest hairs firm against her fingertips as she moves to curl her fingers in his hair where it’s longer. She loves how it feels: thick and soft. She has imagined running her fingers through it countless of times. There’s nothing holding her back now.

He moves his hands over her hips, fingers following the curve of her ass and digging into the back of her thighs. He lifts her as he leans his back against the couch, bringing her up on her knees to hover over him.

She whimpers softly, overwhelmed by the grip he has on her thighs and the angle of kissing him like this. It’s intense. Passionate. Their tongues slip-sliding together as he leans back and lets her take the lead.

His hands slide down over the back of her legs, then up again as he presses her up against him. She wants to sit back down, lower herself on his lap, grind down on what she thinks is a pretty solid erection right there in his pants. She hasn’t really looked yet, but she felt it pressed up against her. She wants to feel it again. Find some relief from the throbbing between her legs, that heat that’s flaring up like it’s going to burn her alive.

She likes sex. She has always liked it, except for maybe a handful of times when the guy in question was either too drunk, or too concerned with himself to get her off. But this, right here, this feels like some next level stuff. Maybe part of her wanted to take it slow with Tim because she wants this so much it scares her a little.

To her the secret to enjoying sex has always been to go into it with realistic expectations. First times can be awkward and… not that great. It doesn’t mean it won’t eventually be great. So, she usually doesn’t allow herself to wish for fireworks the first couple of times. Or… ever, if her last relationship is any indication. But now, it’s Tim. And for the life of her she wouldn’t know how to keep her expectations in check. She’s only been thinking about doing this for years. And if he has even thought about it a tenth as much, then he’s having expectations too. How is she going to live up to that?

It's almost too much for her to wrap her mind around. She is going to have sex with Tim. And she’s not sure how she’s going to survive it. Not when there are fireworks if he merely breathes her way.

She tries to lean back, because it feels like her legs will give out any second now, but he won’t let her. He’s keeping her sitting up, his ring- and middle fingers pressed firmly in the crease where her ass meets her thighs. She lets out a frustrated moan as his lips break free from hers, but he makes up for it a little by moving them down her neck, sucking her skin gently. She’s torn between wanting him to do this forever and hurry the fuck up. Then the hurrying up wins out, with a needy, desperate ‘Tim…’ falling from her lips.

He moves his hands over the smooth fabric of her leggings, cupping her ass cheek in one hand and moving the other one to the small of her back. She feels like he’s igniting something within her. It leaves her unable to catch her breath and she needs him to do something about it now.

‘You’re so damn perfect,’ he says and his lips drop to the swell of her breast, pressing little kisses right above her bra, before opening his mouth and taking as much of her in as he can. He moves his hand from her back to her side, cupping her other breast and circling her nipple slowly with the pad of his thumb. His mouth closes around her other nipple, sucking it through the fabric of her bra.

Her world blacks out for a second and she cries out in pleasure, gripping his hair tightly and digging her fingers in the muscle of his shoulder. He sucks a little harder, dragging a noise out of her she didn’t know she was capable of making. He lets go of her nipple with a wet little popping sound. There’s a hint of a smirk around his lips when he looks up at her. A self-satisfied glint in his eyes before he dives right back in to catch her other nipple between his tongue and upper teeth.

‘Fuck, Tim…’ she breathes, half out of her mind with desire.

‘Not yet,’ he says. ‘Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun doing other things, though.’ His arm goes around her waist and he holds her close as he pushes himself up and shifts them. Suddenly she’s pinned underneath him on his couch, dazed by pure lust over how easy he manhandles her. He drags her down, his fingers digging into her thighs as he pulls her hips flush with his.

She has never loved a man’s hands on her as much as she does his. She just aches for him to touch her more. And he does; one hand roaming over her upper body as he grinds down on her, their bodies molding together like they’re meant to fit perfectly. He shuffles her a little, hips twisting until most of his weight is off of her and she’s lying snug between him and the back of his couch, her leg draped over him. And somehow, even though she’s shaking with anticipation and her heart is beating furiously, she feels perfectly at ease. Her eyes meet his, making her stomach drop and her heart skip a beat. He is breathtakingly beautiful, the way he’s hovering over her, gazing down on her like she is something precious and exhilarating and he is going to have his way with her.

‘You okay with this?’ he asks in the softest voice, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.

‘More than okay.’

‘Good.’ He bends down to kiss her, tongue tracing the curve of her upper lip as she opens them more, giving him access to lick into her mouth, play with the tip of her tongue, gently suck her bottom lip.

She gives into it, feeling the tickle of the little hairs on his forearm as her fingers move up. It thrills her, the firmness of muscle under the softness of skin. She never wants to stop touching him. His fingers curl in her hair, one large hand supporting her head and the other one angling her face just so. She arches into him, gently sweeping her tongue along his. The fabric of his jeans feels rough against her bare ankle as she moves her foot up and down over the back of his leg, using her leg to lock him in tightly.

He grabs her hip, holding her close as their legs tangle even more, then his fingers start moving up over her body, caressing every piece of naked skin that’s within reach, before meeting her breast again. If she had planned on doing this tonight, she would have worn something prettier, sexier. Something a lot easier to take off. He doesn’t seem to care, though. His thumb drags over her nipple, making slow, almost lazy circles with the exact right amount of pressure.

‘God, Tim…’

His lips find the bare skin on her shoulder, and she breathes out shakily, burying her face in his neck.

‘I want to touch all of you,’ he whispers, peppering her with soft, sweet kisses.

‘Yes,’ she replies without missing a beat, pulling at the neckline of his shirt to press her mouth to his skin. To smell him and taste him. ‘Please.’

He spends a little more time teasing her nipple before moving his fingers down over her abdomen, past her belly button, over the front of her leggings. He lingers there, thumb caressing the skin right above her waistband. She holds her breath, feeling the palm of his hand flat against her belly. He moves along, slowly following the curve of her hip, palming her ass, the back of her thigh, curling his fingers inwards towards the softest part of her leg. He’s so close to where she needs him most. Almost but not quite touching her. The ghost of a brush of his finger before he moves his hand back up towards her hip.

Then he does it again. Even more slowly. Deliberate. Knuckles pressing into her center as he leisurely strokes her inner thigh.

‘You say stop, and I’ll stop. Okay?’

‘Don’t want you to.’ She hardly recognizes her own voice. That whispery sound. What is that?

He drags his hand back to cover her ass again, squeezing her firmly as he grinds into her. She gasps, smothering the sound against his chest. She just felt all of him, and now she thinks the “pretty solid erection” she felt earlier was only a “halfway there” one. Her mind trips on it, and spins. Because she figured he wouldn’t be small. He’s a tall man. His hands are large. It makes sense. But imagining it is different from knowing. And she’s pretty sure she knows now.

Her mind is stuck on it. The hard press of his cock between her legs. That’s Tim’s cock she’s feeling. She’d dwell on it for a lot longer, if his hand wasn’t working its way between their bodies. His fingers sliding down her belly, cupping her through her leggings. He’s already there, but he asks anyway. ‘Still okay? Me touching you like this?’

And she loves him a little more for it, the way he keeps checking in with her, even though she’s clearly on board with all that is happening. He has asked permission every step of the way and she has wholeheartedly given it, but he’s still not assuming she won’t change her mind. He’s so perfect to her, it hurts.  

‘Yes, Tim. Please… Just, yes…’

He groans, scraping his teeth over her shoulder, right where the bone is closest to the skin. He runs his fingers over her, two of them pressing just right. ‘Fuck, baby. You’re soaked.’

Her mind trips again. Was that a slip-up? Or does Tim like to sweet talk in bed? She’s not sure actually, if it’s sweet talk or dirty talk. Somehow, he managed to make it sound like both. ‘I know,’ she says. ‘Your fault.’

‘Well…’ He nips at her shoulder once more. ‘I’ll need to do something about it, then.’

He moves his hand back up, and she whimpers, because she likes his hand right where it was. But before she can complain, he slips under the waistband of her leggings, teasing his index finger along the edge of her panties. She stops breathing as he traces the lines of her underwear, following the crease of her leg to the apex of her thighs, dragging the back of his fingers over the drenched material still covering her.

He looks up at her, studying her face, cataloguing every detail of her reaction as he pushes the fabric aside, finding her all slick with arousal. She’s a little shocked by the extent of it, to be honest, but she can’t hold on to the thought for more than a split second before he makes her vision go blurry. She reaches for his wrist, curling her fingers around him to anchor herself. She lets her head fall back into the palm of his hand that seemed to be waiting there to catch her.

‘Jesus, look at you,’ he says, and she’d be embarrassed if not for the pure and utter admiration that’s coating his words. ‘You’re the most beautiful goddamn thing in the world.’

She laughs, because she’s sure he’s messing with her. She’s only just getting used to him liking her that way, but there’s no way he’d be this vocal over it, right? Then she opens her eyes and sees him looking dead serious.

He brushes his nose against hers, presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. His breath is hot on her skin as he moves to her neck, flicking her earlobe with his tongue and burying his nose in her hair like he wants to inhale her.

‘Lucy…’ It’s more of a grunt than anything else and it sends chills through her, the way he says her name, the sound of his voice like that. This is the stuff she has fantasized about and now… ‘You feel amazing. So perfect, baby…’

She makes a whimpering little sound and clings to him, clenching his shirt in her fist and moving her fingers over his forearm. He’s only barely touching her. A slow exploration. A delicate touch. He captures her lips, kissing her slowly and sweetly, exploring her mouth in sync with the movements of his fingers, taking his sweet time like this is all he wants to do for the foreseeable time. There’s no rush to what he’s doing. It doesn’t feel like he’s trying to prepare her for what he really wants. He doesn’t seem to be working towards any other goal than just… enjoying her and making her lose her mind in the process.

And she can’t do anything but surrender.

His finger dips a little deeper, slipping between her folds. He hasn’t even touched her clit yet, but he’s got her all warm and there’s this buzzy, blissful feeling that’s totally new to her and she can already tell it’s building up to something spectacular.

There’s a soft hum coming from her. She didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it makes him do something similar in response and he makes it sound so sexy it’s almost her undoing. He adds another finger, spreading her open just a little, teasing her entrance carefully.

‘Show me what you like,’ he says. ‘Tell me what works for you.’

But the thing is, she wants this. Whatever the hell he’s doing, she doesn’t want to change a thing about it. She knows how to get herself off. She can be very methodical about it, but it would be nowhere near this sweet or sensual. God, there’s a forgotten art to this. One that requires a level of intimacy she hasn’t experienced in a long time, if ever. One that’s usually overlooked when it’s just about fucking. And she has never been with anyone that masters it as beautifully as Tim does.

‘I love what you’re doing. Feels so good, Tim.’

‘Yeah? This what you want, baby?’

Maybe it’s the baby-thing. Maybe it’s him finding this spot she never knew the full potential of and rubbing it in tiny circular motions at exactly the right pace, with the perfect amount of pressure. Maybe it’s that’s she’s been on edge for days by now. But it feels like something snaps within her.

‘God, yes! Tim! Right there! Please, that’s perfect. Please, don’t – Please…’ She can’t focus on words anymore. Her eyes fall shut and her jaw slackens, lips parted as her breath escapes in tight little outbursts.

‘You are perfect,’ he says almost as breathless. ‘You’re so fucking pretty. So fucking hot.’

She arches into him, her whole body tense, a vice grip on his wrist and on his shirt as she presses her face to his chest, silencing her cries of pleasure, squirming and trembling as her orgasm is crashing down on her. It’s a perfect wave hitting her, rolling through her. And he’s keeping her in it, stilling his movements, but keeping his hand right there, applying pressure to her buzzing nerve endings and whispering things like how beautiful she is and how he doesn’t ever want to stop touching her. And how he should have known how fucked he was the moment she turned around to face him in roll call for the first time. And how is he supposed to not be touching her the whole god damn time now?

And she thinks he might be serious about that last part. When she comes down from what can only be called an out of body experience and slumps against him, all pliant and loose-limbed, he’s not letting up on her. She’s not sure how it’s possible for her not to be completely overstimulated after coming that hard, but somehow, he knows exactly how to touch her to start building her up again.

‘Not done with you yet,’ he says, curling the fingers of one hand into her hair, while the other one is hell-bent on making her come again. And again. And again. She has lost all sense of time when he rolls her on top of him and brushes aside a strand of hair that’s stuck to the sweat on the back of her neck.

‘You wrecked me,’ she says breathless with her face pressed into the nook between his neck and shoulder. His soft chuckle rumbles through his chest and she’s sure she would catch a glimpse of that smug grin that looks so annoyingly good on him if she were able to lift her head long enough to take a look. ‘How’s your hand?’

‘I’ll live.’ It’s still wedged between them, and he slowly pulls it from her waistband and moves his fingers. ‘Didn’t use my gun hand, fortunately.’

She giggles. ‘Good call. You’d have to call in sick tomorrow if you had. You wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger, if your live depended on it.’

‘Worth it,’ he says, wiping his hand on his jeans before reaching to pull a thin blanket from the back of the couch to cover her with.

‘That’s kind of gross,’ she says.

‘The only thing that’s gross about you is your taste in ice cream,’ he deadpans. ‘Mint doesn’t belong there. Whoever came up with it should be arrested.’

‘Only because it’s criminally tasty.’ She snuggles into him and the blanket in a perfect state of afterglow.

‘Just like you,’ he replies and she pretends to cringe at the corniness of his comment, but fails miserably, because truth is: she really likes him being corny over her.

She vaguely registers herself humming in a thoroughly satisfied way. Her eyes feel heavy, and she can feel herself drift as his fingers comb through her hair leisurely. She could fall asleep instantly if she isn’t careful. And then, suddenly, she remembers Kojo is still locked out. ‘Tim!’ She forces herself up a little. ‘We forgot all about Kojo.’

‘He’s fine. He’s probably sleeping on the lounge chair. He knows he’s not allowed, so he’s definitely seizing the opportunity. Don’t worry, he’ll let us know when he needs to come inside.’

‘Okay, well… it’s a good thing he’s taking a nice, long nap.’ She settles back in, propping her chin up on his chest. ‘Cause just so you know… The minute I regain feeling in my lower body it’s your turn.’ She moves her hand over his abdomen, towards the still very prominent bulge in his pants.

He grabs her hand before she can reach it, though. ‘What do you think this past hour has been?’ He smiles, wrapping his fingers around hers loosely. ‘All of this was my turn. I’ve been wanting to do something like that to you for quite some time.’

‘Yeah?’ she asks playfully. ‘There are some things I’d like to do too, you know?’

‘Next time. It’s okay… just relax here with me…’

‘But… You’re…’ She glances over at him. Rock hard.

‘I can take care of that.’

She can’t help but be intrigued by the image that pops up in her head. And if his face is anything to go by, it’s written all over hers. Tim taking care of himself… that would be quite a sight to see.

‘Not like that,’ he says amused. ‘Well… Not yet anyway. I’ll be thinking of you for the rest of the night, so in order to get any sleep at all, I’m gonna have to do something about it at some point.’

She’s stunned that he’s so cavalier about it. He’s going to get himself off with her in mind. It’s not like she hasn’t done the same the other way around, but somehow, she has never imagined him doing it thinking of her.

‘What’s that look?’ he asks.

‘What? I mean… huh?’ She’s blushing. She knows she is. She just hopes she’s still too flushed from all those orgasms for him to notice.

‘You’re thinking too loud about something. What is it?’

‘Nothing. I’m not thinking anything. Especially not anything to do with you… doing… private things…’

‘What about me doing private things?’ he asks, playing with a strand of her hair.

‘Just wondering… stuff.’

‘Okay, that’s not really narrowing things down for me.’

‘Wondering about… how I relate to you doing these private things… I don’t know, it’s stupid. It’s just, I have thought about you and when you said you’ll think about me tonight, I just wondered if you have before and…’

‘Lucy…’ He cuts her off, which is good. God only knows how long she would have carried on rambling. ‘You’re all I think about.’

‘You… Really? When you… I mean…’

‘I tried not to. But…’ He looks confused. ‘Is this another thing I need to apologize for? I have a hard time telling if you’re wildly intrigued or wildly uncomfortable with this.’

‘Definitely intrigued,’ she says. ‘A bit surprised too. Not uncomfortable at all.’

‘So, what is it? You’re looking for details? Want me to get into specifics here?’

‘I might be interested in some specifics as to what kind of things you have been thinking about when you… do stuff.’

He lets the strand of hair slip from his fingers and presses his hand to her cheek. ‘Thought about this,’ he says, running his thumb over her bottom lip. He stares at it as he drags it down a little before letting it bounce back. ‘Haven’t stopped thinking about those lips since our practice kiss.’ He moves his thumb along her jaw next, and draws her hair back from her face, bunching it all up in one hand. ‘This, too… Whenever you wear your hair loose, I always want to… feel it.’

‘Feel it, how?’ she asks.

‘Touch it. And… feel it on me. It’s always so soft.’ He shifts a little underneath her. She can feel the flexing of the muscles in his thighs and since he’s keeping her hand from touching him, she drags her leg up, tucking her feet between his knees, feeling him press into her inner thigh. ‘And it smells so nice. Remember when we took Angela for drinks the first time after she stopped breast feeding?’

‘Oh man, she got drunk on half a glass.’

‘Yeah.’ He laughs and she thinks: if he knew how good it looked on him, he would probably do it a lot more. ‘I think she got drunk just from smelling the liquor that night. She showed you those pictures of Jack on her phone and you had to lean over to take a look.’

Truth is, she didn’t really have to lean over. She just liked it better that way.

‘Your hair brushed my arm,’ he continues. ‘And it smelled really good. I think you just started using that new shampoo, you know, the flowery one.’

‘You noticed I changed shampoos?’

‘It’s not like I was hanging around smelling you all the time…’ His face tells a different story, but she decides to let it slide. ‘But you know how it is, riding together all day, sitting that close. Hard not to notice.’

‘Okayyyy…’ she says, dragging the word out a bit to let him know she’s on to him.

‘At first it bothered me that you changed it, because I sort of missed that other scent. But that night I started to really fucking like it. And that’s when I shoved you on my seat and hauled my ass to the bar to get more drinks.’

‘Oh. So…’ She remembers him practically bolting. And being fidgety with her that entire night. In fact, there’s an endless parade of times he pulled back from her over the years. Distancing himself, like he could barely stand being around her. ‘I always thought you didn’t like it when I got too close.’

‘I liked it too much. Thought about it too much.’ She can feel him tense beneath her.

‘There’s no such thing as too much…’ She drags herself up a little more, making sure her hair tickles him as she leans in to kiss him.

He makes a hoarse sound against her lips, as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. ‘You’re not playing fair, now.’ His hand moves over her back. ‘Thought about this, too,’ he says, dragging his fingers over her spine. ‘And this.’ He grabs her ass, kneading the flesh.

‘Of course you did,’ she replies, smiling down on him, giddy with the idea of it. The idea of him looking at her like that, thinking of her that way. ‘I wish I had known.’

‘Why? So you could have made my life a living hell?’

‘I would never do that.’

He gives her a look that says: you totally would.

‘Okay, fine. Maybe I would have tortured you a little, but it would have been so much fun.’

‘Fun for you, an IA investigation for me,’ he replies, tightening his arms around her, which makes her appreciate the view on his biceps even more. She moves her hand over his chest to wrap her fingers around the thick bulk of muscle that just simply fascinates her. She would need both hands to fully circle his upper arm.

He flexes a little more, and she’s on the verge of telling him to quit showing off, but as his biceps harden under her touch even more, she can feel another part of him soften significantly and her jaw practically drops. ‘What was that?’

‘What was what?’

‘You did a thing… right here…’ she says, tightening her grip on his arm. ‘And something changed down there.’

‘Oh,’ he says, and she can feel him making a fist on the small of her back. ‘Told you I could take care of it. It’s a blood distribution issue.’

‘I know, but…’ She can’t suppress a giggle. ‘I just never seen a guy control the… distribution like that.’

‘It’s not that hard.’

‘Maybe not now, but it was pretty hard a couple of seconds ago…’

He laughs. She loves the way she makes him laugh. ‘Have to admit it took a bit longer with you on top of me like this. But it usually takes less than a minute to get rid of an unwanted boner, so when a guy says he can’t, he’s full of shit.’

‘So… how does it work? You just flex some muscles?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Blood goes someplace else, problem solved. Why are you looking at me like that? It’s basic biology, you should be an expert on it. Why are you looking like I just explained the biggest magic trick in the world?’

‘I’m not,’ she replies, still unable to control the grin that’s taken over probably more than half of her face by now. ‘It’s just… you do that a lot.’

‘I wouldn’t say a lot.’

‘You do! You so do! I’ve seen you do it hundreds of times.’

‘Wildly exaggerated,’ he mutters.

‘No, it’s not! I always thought you just liked showing off, but that’s not it, is it? You think I’m hot. Don’t even try to lie to me.’

‘I’m not fighting off boners all day long, Chen.’ It’s the stern voice, and the use of her last name, that’s letting her know she is right on the money. ‘Sometimes it’s just stress from the job, or you being an annoying little shit.’

She shakes her head. ‘You think I’m hot…’

‘Will you let me finish? I was getting there.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘God, you’re aggravating. But I do think you’re hot. You’re hot as fuck when you’re on the job, actually. Taking down guys twice your size, never backing down on anything anyone throws at you. Of course I think you’re hot. And you can be a little touchy sometimes. Then there’s the flowery shampoo thing, so… there might have been a time or two when I needed to control things, in order to not walk up to a crime scene with a full-on rager. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ she says, sliding up over his body with a soft giggle and leaning her elbow next to his face. ‘That’s a really nice trick and all, but… you could also just let me take care of you like you just did with me. I don’t get why you don’t want me to.’

‘I do want that. Very much so. Listen, when we were on our first date, the second I saw you in that dress, I was planning to take you home with me that night. I was ready to skip dinner altogether.’

‘I kind of was, too,’ she admits. Truth is, the entire time she was trying on dresses, she was picturing Tim taking them off. She hadn’t asked him to come inside after their undercover mission to play boardgames. And if they had ended up sharing that room in Vegas, sharing a bed after kissing him like she did on the airplane, she’s not sure how she would have kept herself from doing something reckless. She had imagined so many scenarios of crossing the line with him, and in her mind it had always been highly passionate, highly sexual, them ripping off each other’s clothes without any regard of the consequences.

But it had been so different in reality. Never would she have ever imagined them sitting outside of the precinct and putting it all out there like they had. Or him asking her to have dinner with him, something so innocent and uncomplicated, like they were two people just getting to know each other. And suddenly she had wanted that. To get to know him in this completely different way. To explore the possibility of them in such a sweet and careful way. To enjoy every step of the way instead of rushing into it.

‘So were you disappointed?’ she asks. ‘When I suggested taking it slow?’

It takes him a beat to answer. Like he has to think about it for a second. ‘I thought it was great that you were being clear on what you wanted. It’s sort of new for me, taking things slow. I have never waited this long… or… at all, to be honest.’

‘So… You always sleep with women on the first date?’

‘Yeah, I mean… Why wait? If it doesn’t work physically, I’d rather know sooner than later. No use in wasting anyone’s time. Plus, you know… nobody has ever made me wait, so…’

‘Seriously? No one?’

He shrugs. ‘I guess not.’

She’s not sure why she’s surprised. Dating is exhausting, especially in LA. So, having Tim show up is sort of like hitting the jackpot. She gets why women generally seize the opportunity when it presents itself.

‘So why did you agree with taking it slow?’

‘Because it’s what you wanted. I want what you want.’

‘But what if we don’t work physically?’

His response is immediate, like a reflex. ‘We will work. There’s not a single doubt in my mind we will work.’

‘Only one way to find out, though…’

‘I can’t wait to find out. And we will. But I also love how we are doing this. It’s torture, for sure, but I have never appreciated every little step like I do with you. It’s ridiculous. I’m thinking about kissing you all day long. About how I’m going to touch you next. You have no idea how much I wanted to do what we just did… and it was beyond anything I could have imagined. And it’s like that with every new thing you let me have.’

‘I have given you quite a few new things to think about today…’

‘You certainly have.’ He moves his hand to her neck, drawing her in closer to kiss her. It’s sexy, and adoringly sweet, like he’s treasuring every second of it, just like she is. Her heart is so full, she almost fears it will burst.

‘I could give you some more,’ she teases. Because she wants to. She really does. She wants to make him feel just as amazing as he’s making her feel.

‘I want you to be absolutely sure you’re ready,’ he says rubbing slow circles on the back of her neck. ‘And when you are, I want you to stay. I want us to have all night. And then I want to fall asleep with you… And wake up the next morning and do it again. Tonight’s not the night.’

She’s speechless for a couple of seconds. ‘I never would have guessed…’

‘Guessed what?’

‘For you to be such a romantic.’

‘What? I can be romantic.’

‘I see that now,’ she gazes at his lips. ‘I like it.’

‘Then get used to it.’ He captures her lips again, drawing out that soft humming sound she keeps making. That new thing that mainly consists of pure happiness. She’s just so happy. So in love. And she still feels tingly all over from how he made her come over and over again.

‘Tim…’ she sighs, as they pull apart. She slips her hand under his shirt, and tucks her head under his chin, breathing in his scent as she closes her eyes. She’s all wrapped up in him, and he seems to like it just as much as she does. ‘I’ve never felt this way before.’

She must have not heard him right when he presses his lips to the top of her head and whispers something that sounds a lot like: ‘Me neither.’

A/N: And now think about all of this magic again! "Tonight is the night!" (Gif from chenfordsource. )

Chapter Text

Ever since Lucy was assigned to him as his new rookie Tim has spent a considerable amount of time thinking about her. He always has. Even when on medical leave, only days into her training, she’d been on his mind incessantly.

Training her had been on his mind, he should say. Because assigning her to Wrigley had been part of her training. He was goading her into taking the easy way out – little did he know about her, back then. When he made sure to run into her at the place he knew Wrigley would drop her off for lunch, that had been part of training her as well. He was just doing his job. His job had always been that important to him. That’s what he told himself, and it was true. He’d always been invested in training his rookies the best way he knew how.

But he’d never liked it the way he was starting to like training her. He had never gone out of his way to keep track of any other rookie like that before. He had never allowed anyone other than her to get into his personal business like she had since day one. She was different from the get-go, even though he still has trouble admitting it.

Point is: having Lucy on his mind is nothing new to him. He used to fall asleep thinking of new Tim Tests. He didn’t think much of it back then, because coming up with new ways to challenge and push and teach her had also been part of training her. Just like imagining her handling those challenges. Even when he set her up for failure, which was basically the whole point, she somehow still always managed to surprise him with the way she took the defeat. Her unrelenting, unwavering drive to suck it up and push through. He sure liked thinking about that, too.

But never ever, not even after having one drink too many, making him lose his inhibitions just a tad, or in his wildest dreams where inhibitions weren’t even a thing, or after their UC stint when his thoughts had been as far from professional as he had ever allowed them to get… Not even then, had it been like it is right now.

Thinking about Lucy has a whole different meaning to him now. It’s literally every waking minute. And then some more after he falls asleep. And the things he thinks about he can’t even put into words. They vary from the filthiest sexual fantasies he’s ever had to the sweetest, most romantic things he can think of. He’s not even sure how he’s able to come up with it all. He’s fearing for his sanity a little, at this point.

He has never thought about someone’s body this much. About touching, kissing and tasting every inch. He can not stop thinking about making her come again. He has never seen anything like it in his life. The way she makes it look disturbingly hot, and somehow so very adorable all at once is out of this world. He’s pretty much mesmerized by her.

His hand is still sore from last night, but he couldn’t care less. If he can spend tonight the same way, making her come on his hand for hours, he’ll jump at the chance to do it all over again. He’s in love with how she feels, just as much as he’s in love with every part of her.  

He smiles thinking about the little sway in her step as he watched her walk up to her door, her knees still weak from her orgasms. They’d sat in his truck kissing and talking and feeling each other up for over an hour before she finally made it out. The way she looked back at him one more time before going in, leaning against the doorframe, like parting from him was the worst thing in the world, even if it was just to get a couple of hours of sleep. He felt the same way.

When he got back at his place, after he got Kojo settled for the night and took a much-needed shower, he went into his bedroom – phone in hand to send Lucy a good night text – and found the present she left him. A black, flimsy piece of fabric thrown across his bed. The panties weren’t even anything special; designed for nothing more than to feel comfortable and be unnoticeable under tight clothing, like the leggings she’d worn today. But they were hers. Which made them the sexiest piece of underwear he’d ever stumbled upon in his life.

He gathered them in his hand, and instead of shooting her a text, he called her number. He could tell she’d been waiting for him to do so, when she picked up before her phone could have even made a sound. ‘Took you long enough,’ she said.

He could hear her smile as much as he felt his own and it made his chest swell with this strange warm and liquid-y feeling that flowed through him whenever he thought of her. ‘You…’ he started saying, trying to make it sound stern but only managing a flirty, amused tone of voice that he barely registered as his own. ‘… are a very bad girl.’

‘A bad girl, huh?’

‘Very, very bad.’ He threw back his covers and sat down on the bed, bunching up her panties in his hand.

‘You have some nerve calling me the bad one, when you’re the reason they’re ruined. I’m just being a considerate girlfriend, leaving you something to help you out a little when you… take care of things.’

‘Oh, that’s what you’re doing? Helping me out. I see.’ He put the phone on speaker as he lay down and got comfortable. ‘So… That would make you a very good girl, then?’

He could hear her sharp intake of breath and he wondered how it was possible for him to get hard again, after just having thoroughly drained himself in the shower. Lucy’s voice was steady when she spoke. ‘Yeah. I’d like to think so.’

‘Hmm. I’d have to agree.’ He pressed the soft scrap of fabric to his bare chest as he listened to her breathing pick up pace. ‘I think you’re an amazing girlfriend.’

She practically moaned, which egged him on to continue.

‘And for the record… I’ve always thought you’re a good girl. A very good boot for me.’

Tim’s not quite sure what made him go there, but he’s glad he did. It paved the way for the best phone call he ever had. One he will remember fondly as long as his brain continues to produce brainwaves, but probably shouldn’t be actively thinking about right now, while at work. But the precinct is mostly empty and he’s stuck doing paperwork, which is never his strong suit. So… How can he not be thinking about her? His girl. His very, very good girl.

Then his phone buzzes with an incoming video message and it’s from Lucy. And he shouldn’t open it, because when he does, he will be sitting here, staring at his screen with that stupid grin that’s a dead giveaway. Whenever a person looks at their phone with a stupid-ass look like he knows he’s sporting more often than not nowadays, you just know: that’s a sucker in love. And he is.

So – as the sucker in love he is – he’s unable to resist the lure of an incoming message from her, and he taps his screen to open it. It’s an immediate reflex, the grin that spreads across his face as soon as her face pops up.

‘Hi, Tim. Guess where I am? Where we are?’ She turns the camera of her phone on Aaron, who gives some kind of smoldering look, that Tim really didn’t need in his life. He briefly wonders if the poor guy ever gets laid, but forgets about it immediately as Lucy’s bubbly laughter drifts his way. ‘I’m making this for Tim!’ she clarifies as she turns away from a mortified Aaron and aims the camera a little higher. ‘So, do you know where we are?’

He does, actually. Tim knows exactly where she is. Ever since dispatch fucked up and left Lucy locked up in an abandoned building for hours, he took it upon himself to always keep track of her whereabouts. Parker Center, he thinks at the exact moment she says it aloud.

‘I thought you would like to have a last look at LAPD’s history before it gets torn down.’

Tim finds he doesn’t give that much about the former LAPD headquarters. Not when Lucy Chen is standing in front of it. The sunlight is hitting her eyes in that particular way that makes them look like they’re lit up from within and she’s some enchanted, magical creature. Which she might be. No one can really convince him she’s not. It makes him wish he was there too, so he could… well, he couldn’t do anything, actually. Not with most of the LAPD and FD around, and a fairly large crowd of onlookers. But he’d be near her. He could have those gorgeous eyes shine on him and make him feel lit up from within, ‘cause that’s what she always does for him. She’s his sunshine.

‘Is that Parker Center?’

Still more than half caught-up in his Lucy-haze, Tim answers Grey, who came up behind him, just a beat too slow. ‘Yeah… Chen and Thorsen are there to supervise the demolition.’ Tim fumbles with his phone to pause the video. He knows Grey is on to them, he doesn’t need to fuel his suspicion any more.

‘I know,’ Grey replies matter of fact. ‘I’m the one telling people where to go, remember? I was coming to get you, actually. Everybody is there, we should be there too.’

Tim nods. His paperwork can wait. ‘Absolutely, sir.’

Tim spots Lucy almost as soon as he gets out of the shop. She’s doing crowd control with Thorsen a few feet away from her. It’s not that long ago that he’d been the one beside her almost every waking minute of the day. He misses it; riding with her. He’d tried to push it down, same way he did with all of the confusing feelings concerning her. You’re not supposed to miss riding with your former boot. There’s a new one waiting usually, and you just move on. You don’t spend your days still hearing her voice in your head, chattering about things you pretended not to care about. Mindlessly stopping at her favorite places for lunch or coffee instead of your own. You don’t freak out about her going Undercover when clearly everyone involved thinks she’s more than prepared for the job. But he did. He thinks it might have been why he’d been almost eager to act as Angela’s Man of Honor. He needed something else to focus on, and he needed it bad. Something to fill the void Lucy had left.

It's also why he refused to ask her to be his aide at first. He wanted it too damn much. He remembers how something eased within him the minute she was back by his side in the shop. And how unsettled he felt when he had to let her go again. It still feels off to him, not being paired with her.

‘You know Manson was booked in this facility?’ Grey says while they’re making their way through the crowd.

‘I didn’t.’ Tim pushes his way through, his height giving him a vantage point to see Lucy do her job. She’s talking to a bunch of kids that climbed the barricades, trying to get them to step down and keep a safe distance. He can tell by her posture and the way she moves they’re giving her attitude and she’s not having it. He loves that about her, how she’s soft, but never weak.

She steps back, her back still turned to him. He’s pretty sure she hasn’t seen him arrive at the scene, but she’s inching towards him anyway, like she’s aware of his presence without being aware of it.

‘This seems like the perfect spot…’ Grey says, reaching the barricades and planting both hands firmly on the barrier.

Tim still only has eyes for Lucy. He watches her place her hands on her utility belt, same way he’s standing. ‘Couldn’t agree more. Perfect view, I would say.’

‘To watch the building implode,’ Grey states sternly.

Tim looks him straight in the eye. ‘Of course, sir. What else would I be talking about?’ He doesn’t flinch under Grey’s stare-down, nor does he react to the blink-and-you-miss-it way Grey knowingly smirks. Just the slightest uptick of the corners of his mouth. Tim nods to a guy standing east from the building. ‘That’s going to be a problem.’

Grey follows Tim’s line of sight, scoping out the guy standing there.

Tim grabs his radio, sighing. ‘What kind of moron brings half a dozen dogs to a demolition?’

‘A dog walker,’ Grey specifies, when he sees the guy holding several leashes in each hand.

‘Nolan is closest by; he needs to get him out of here.’ Tim radios his instructions and as Nolan moves to approach the dog walker, Lucy’s eyes find Tim’s in the crowd and she comes bouncing over.

‘You’re here!’ she says, beaming at him. As she looks up, the sun does the thing with her eyes and Tim can feel his heart leap in his chest. He can also feel Grey’s eyes on them, but Tim reminds himself it’s nothing out of the ordinary for Lucy to greet him like this. It’s what she does. What she’s always done. She’s a little ball of pure sunshine and joy. It would be weird for her not to look at him like he hung the freaking moon, so he allows himself a split second to let it wash over him. For the briefest moment they’re lost in each other’s gaze, but Lucy recovers quickly and turns to Grey to greet him with a more serious expression. ‘Sir, good to have you here. We could certainly use all the supervision we can get, in order to… supervise our… supervision…’

‘It’s a piece of LAPD history,’ Grey says, and Tim is a little jealous of the immunity the man seems to have for that cute rambling Lucy does so often.

‘That’s what I’ve been telling Tim!’ She meets his eyes when his name rolls from her tongue. Man. Has he always stopped breathing when she looked at him?

‘You were,’ he agrees. He doesn’t even notice the dog walker coming over until he’s close by and starts yapping to a woman standing near Grey.

‘Dog walking is such easy money. I quit corporate six months ago to completely focus on my screenplay.’

Tim is starting to feel like the sole purpose of this guy is to annoy the crap out of him. He can barely refrain from rolling his eyes. The only thing keeping him from it, is the featherlight brush of Lucy’s elbow against his forearm as she steps just a little closer to the barricades. He catches a whiff of her shampoo, noticing it’s a different scent once more. Not the vanilla kind she used first, that made her smell a bit like baked goods, nor the more recent flowery fragrance he’d come to associate with her. He wonders if she changed it on purpose to unnerve him now she knows about his fixation on her hair. Or just to prove the point that she can make anything smell delicious. It’s more of a fruity scent now, something soft and sweet, like peach or mango.

‘Have you ever been to a demolition, sir?’ she asks Grey. ‘I feel like we’re so close to the building.’

‘I’m sure everything is well calculated. Those engineers know what they are doing.’

‘At least someone does,’ Tim chimes in. He turns to Lucy, leaning in like he’s used to doing when discussing strategy with her. Nothing weird about it. If he’s just that bit closer, it’s only to make sure she can hear him in the loud crowd. And if his fingertips are lightly tapping her skin, it’s because she’s a hot piece of ass and he can’t keep his hands off of her. His voice is all business though, when he speaks. ‘In a matter of minutes 500 pounds of explosives will be detonated and that guy thinks those dogs won’t freak out when it happens.’

Lucy leans in on him more, standing on her tiptoes to see through the crowd. When she finds the dogs, her brow furrows with worry.

‘Those pore things, they’ll be scared to death,’ she says.

‘I told Nolan to escort that idiot out of the crowd, but apparently the guy can’t take a subtle hint.’

‘Got it.’ Lucy gives him a little smile, stepping away from him with a glint in her eye. ‘I’m already on it. Sir.’

Tim knows he’s fucked when he can’t keep his eyes of Lucy telling the guy off, even with Grey standing right beside him. He tries not to stare at her like he wants to have her for dinner and dessert, but it’s kind of hard not to when she keeps looking his way like that. Like she knows what she’s doing to him.

It feels like being in love for the first time all over again. Although, being in love with Lucy is something new altogether. If he had known giving in would feel this good, he would have stopped fighting it a lot sooner. He never would have believed it, though. That it was possible for him to feel this way.

The dog walker seems more impressed by Lucy than he was with Nolan, which doesn’t come as a surprise to Tim. Nolan is a pretty decent cop, but he’s got nothing on Lucy. She watches the guy walk off to the back of the crowd and turns to Tim, self-satisfaction written all over her face. He praises her with his eyes, feeling a hint of a smile tug at his lips. He works hard to suppress it, but he can tell she picks up on it anyway. She practically gloats.

She reaches for her radio and signals: ‘Any minute now.’

‘Well, an end of an era,’ Grey sighs. ‘But as much as it pains me to see this building go, I guess something better will return.’

Tim shoots him a look. ‘Are you getting sentimental on me, now?’

‘I’m just saying not all changes are bad. That’s just life, you know. Ever changing.’

Tim nods. ‘Sure.’

‘Besides,’ Grey continues, grinning. ‘I may be old, but I’m still a boy at heart. Who wouldn’t enjoy watching things blow up like that?’

There’s a countdown starting then, and everyone is excited, all eyes on the building like it’s New Year’s Eve on Times Square and they’re waiting for the ball to drop. Tim isn’t looking anywhere near the building. His eyes are trained on Lucy.

He sees her lips move, telling him silently to ‘watch the building’. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, letting her know he’s doing no such thing. He likes what he’s looking at right now.

She’s getting fidgety under his stare, which makes him like doing it even more. He crosses his arms, tightening his biceps in a way he knows means something to her after what they discussed the previous night. Her jaw drops a little and he raises an eyebrow at her, making her blush ferociously as she turns away.

The first explosives go off, making the whole crowd cheer in anticipation. While everyone around him is captivated by the sight of the collapsing building, he’s waiting for Lucy to gather enough courage to look his way again. He only notices what’s happening next by reading her body language. She goes rigid, and when she turns to face him, it’s not to flirt. He clocks the alarmed expression on her face immediately and he notices the plume of debris coming at them next.

‘Move!’ Lucy yells, making her way towards the barricades. ‘Back up, everyone! Move, move, move!’

He turns, pushing himself through the crowd of onlookers closest to the barricades, yelling at them to back up. Grey moves the other way, doing the same. Then there’s complete chaos. Everything is happening all at once. People are screaming and running, shoving and stumbling over each other. Dogs are barking frantically.

‘Stay calm!’ Tim yells, looking back at Lucy who is making her way over to the group of kids she was talking to earlier. ‘Just stay calm and back up as far as you can!’

In his peripheral vision he sees a little boy get separated from his dad in the crowd. He pushes through to get to the kid and picks him up. The boy is kicking and screaming for his dad and elbows Tim right in the face as he hands him over. Tim has already turned to check on Lucy, paying his throbbing eye socket no mind as he sees the cloud of dust and debris coming up behind her. She’s pushing the kids back from the barrier. They scatter and Lucy turns his way. Their eyes lock and he realizes she’s too close to the building. Way too close.

He’s over the barricades instantly, barreling towards her at record speed. Seconds later the cloud washes over them and he loses sight of her. He can’t see anything, but he reaches blindly for where he’d seen her last and yells for her. He feels the texture of her uniform brush his hand and finds purchase on her belt next. He yanks her against him, making her stumble into him as he spins her away from the blaze, bringing her down with him right as a second wave of explosions is set off. He crouches over her, trying to shield her with his body and pressing her face to his chest. He can’t breathe. They’re enveloped in a shroud of undefinable matter and Lucy is clinging to his uniform.

The dust settles almost as fast as it came and when he looks up, they’re surrounded by chaos. Most of the crowd has spread out. People are running around dazed. Some are sitting on the street, scratched and bruised. And there are dogs running free everywhere.

‘I’ve got him!’ Nolan shouts chasing a tiny one.

‘You don’t!’ Celina says going after another. ‘Dogs can feel your energy. You have to be calm! Let him come to you!’

Lucy is coughing and Tim helps her sit up. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I think I bit my lip,’ she says, in between coughs, touching her lower lip. He wipes a trickle of blood from a scratch on her cheekbone.

‘You look a little banged up,’ he says, checking her for other injuries.

‘Jesus Tim, what happened to your eye?’

‘I’m fine,’ he says, helping her up.

Aaron is coming up behind her. ‘I guess this makes us dirty cops!’ He’s laughing at his own joke while he dusts himself off, making Lucy cough some more.

‘We need to get you checked out,’ Tim says.

‘I’m okay,’ she argues.

‘It wasn’t a suggestion. Get her to an EMT and check to see who needs medical attention,’ Tim orders Aaron. ‘And someone catch those damn dogs!’

When Tim pulls up in the parking garage of Shaw Memorial, Lopez and Harper are waiting for them with their phones out, filming their arrival. Lucy is with him. While he was hovering near the ambulance until she was cleared, Grey seized the opportunity to catch a ride from Aaron.

‘Do you think he knows?’ Lucy asked, getting in the shop with him.

‘Well,’ Tim contemplated, ‘the man has eyes. I practically threw myself at you in front of everyone.’

‘Yeah, you did.’ She looked at him with stars in her eyes, and Tim decided that look alone was worth all the ridicule he was sure he was going to get for it now the tension wore off.

He’s bracing himself for impact as he gets out of the shop. Nolan and Celina pull up beside him as Tim slams the door.

‘Hey!’ Nolan sounds chipper as ever, greeting Harper who is just putting her phone away. Angela still has hers out. ‘What are you guys doing here?’ Nolan asks.

‘Here for a case,’ Harper clarifies. ‘We heard what went down on the radio…’

‘And we wouldn’t want to miss it for the world,’ Angela finishes. ‘Looking good, Bradford!’

Lucy makes a strangled sound, coming up behind him. ‘God, the dirt is everywhere! I think it’s in my bra, and it does not feel good. I need to get out of these clothes fast!’

Tim knows Angela is still recording. Hell, she practically has her camera shoved in his face, studying him with that look he hates, like she’s reading his mind and making fun of what she finds there. But he will not succumb to her pressure. He’s standing there like a statue, ignoring that face she’s making and keeping himself from showing any kind of reaction whatsoever. Stoic as ever. He knows he can pull this off.

‘It’s disgusting,’ Lucy says, pulling at the shirt of her uniform, making one more button pop open. She’s looking around for anyone to concur. ‘Right?’

All the while Tim searches within to find a source of superhuman strength. He needs it to keep his thoughts of Lucy’s bra and what’s in it at bay. Something he’s currently failing at miserably.

‘I can help out with that,’ Aaron offers meekly and still Tim doesn’t flinch. At least, he thinks he succeeds, until the way Aaron sort of staggers back tells him otherwise.

Leave it to Nolan to not pick up on the awkward tension. ‘I will see your dust and debris and raise you with fleas,’ he says. ‘I can’t stop scratching ever since I caught that last dog. That big, brown one... it was filthy.’

Tim smoothly sidesteps away from Nolan and Grey takes it as his cue to stalk off, with Aaron tagging right behind, and everyone following. He glances at Lucy before moving himself, communicating with one half-a-second look that he will get back at her for making him squirm like that in front of everyone they work with.

The look she’s serving him makes it crystal clear that she knew exactly what she was doing and he’s not really sure what he’s thinking when he just moves in on her, pushing her behind a concrete column – out of sight – and crowding her against the cold surface.

She looks at him, eyes wide in astonishment like she’s sweet, innocent Lucy. But the shiny sparkle of reckless, wild Lucy is unmistakably there, eager to play along with whatever he has in mind. His mind isn’t even working right now, but he doesn’t need it to move on instinct, slotting his lips over hers and pushing her up against the firm structure of the column behind her.

He feels insane for doing this. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the laughter and chattering dissipating more and more as their co-workers get further away from where he has Lucy pinned to the wall. Someone surely must have noticed them staying behind. He has no believable excuse for it, either. No way to spin it into anything remotely logical, and he does not care. He’s driven by the same force that made him do something very similar to this in the airplane bathroom. It’s slightly different now, though.

She’s his for one. He’s allowed to do this now. Well, not now literally, since they’re on the clock and he’s breaking every rule of conduct he holds himself to, and probably several official ones too. But he can’t bring himself to give a damn with her hot body pressed against him. Her hands move up over his chest, pulling him down to her with a firm grip on the collar of his shirt. His hands are moving on their own accord, slipping under her already disheveled uniform and snapping more buttons in the process. He relishes in the feeling of the curve of her breast covered by the soft cotton of her T-shirt. He can’t wait to feel her bare again.

That’s another thing that’s different: he knows things now. He knows the meaning of certain sounds she makes. He knows what she likes, what she likes more and what she loves him to do. The way she softly hums into their kiss meaning only one thing: she’s horny as fuck. And that makes him horny as fuck.

One more thing he knows: Lucy is incredibly hot when she’s turned on. He desperately wants to shove his hand down her pants and feel just how hot she is for him right now. He grabs her face to keep himself from doing exactly that, tilting her chin up to lick into her mouth and working his thigh between hers.

It’s completely quiet now, apart from the little sighs and moans coming from Lucy. It feels like time has slowed down, seconds ticking away in a sluggish, syrupy pace. But it can’t be more than a minute or so. It won’t look that bad if they get themselves together now. They’ll easily catch up. They already proved themselves to be the best at the shooting range; he’s sure they’re a lot faster than anyone of his colleagues too. It’s just that he wants one more second. Or maybe two. Three tops. Just a couple of seconds more of Lucy, like this.

He's close to combusting if this waiting game goes on much longer. He will wait of course. However long she needs him to. But he’s never wanted it this much. To be able to do this, and knowing he won’t have to stop. Seeing all of her. Having all of her.

He groans as he finally manages to detach himself. Fuck, she’s gorgeous, looking slightly dazed and out of breath, smiling up at him. She flinches, touching her lip with a soft little ‘ouch’ as her smile tugs on the fresh cut.

He worries that he kissed her too hard. ‘Did I hurt you?’

She shakes her head. ‘But I am in a lot of pain right now. Might need you to kiss and make it better some more.’

Yeah?’ he asks. ‘Poor baby. You’ll need to come over tonight. Let me take care of you.’

She hums in agreement. ‘Already told Tamara about precinct bowling night.’

He can't stop himself from conveying every ounce of disgust he feels just thinking about the mere possibility of there ever being such a thing as... 'Precinct bowling night?'

'Don't worry, I made it sound convincing.'

'You sure about that?' he asks.

'Of course I'm sure.' She looks pretty damn sure, too. And he knows she can sell anything if she tries.

‘Good girl,’ he says, making her squeal a little. It takes more than superhuman strength to pull away from her now, but he manages. ‘Come on. We need to catch up.’

They aren’t that much behind when they enter the hospital. Celina is just getting into the elevator and Harper and Lopez are at the front desk. The doors of the elevator are closing as Tim is walking up to them.

He throws Lucy a look that’s supposed to mean: “act casual”, but probably comes off a little more like: ‘I’m so crazy about you”. He reaches, catching the closing door just in time to make their way in, still trying to decide if he’ll just act dumb, or will go for an extra dose of scowling.

Turns out he won’t be needing any of it. In the middle of the elevator, there’s a woman carrying a bunch of balloons. He recognizes her immediately. She’s that singer that won American Idol decades ago. One of her songs pops up in his head, even if he can’t quite remember her name right now. Nolan and Grey are both standing there, trying to contain their starstruck grins.

The singer seems distressed by their messed-up appearance. Lucy settles in next to her and says: ‘I really love your music.’ He tries to not get all mushy over how cute she makes it sound. Harper and Lopez also manage to catch the elevator just in time to annoy the fuck out of him with their “detectives are better”-attitude. They know damn well patrol is where all the fun is.

But at least nobody is paying the slightest bit of attention to Lucy and him. He relaxes a little, resting his hands on his belt and feeling pretty good. Finally the city being swamped by celebrities is paying off. He really fucking loves living in LA.

Chapter Text

For all the time he spent thinking about it, Tim’s amazed she still manages to catch him off guard when it actually happens. After more or less planning to have sex, only for it not to happen, neither of them had mentioned what tonight was really about. But he knows both Lucy and him are very much aware that this – finally – is going to be the night.

The overnight bag he brought says it is.

The number of condoms he threw in says so as well. He probably brought enough of his favorite brand to get them through a week of fucking. Come to think of it, the number of condoms he has stacked in there is quite proportional to the amount of candles Lucy has lit in the apartment. They both went a little overboard. Her place is a fire hazard and the bag he brought is so full of prophylactics it’s a miracle he managed to squeeze in some actual clothing and a toothbrush. 

They might not even need them, though. Clothes, nor condoms. He knows Lucy is on birth control, because they talked about it. He’d asked her a little while ago what type of protection she preferred, so he’d come prepared – no pun intended – when the moment arose. Somehow, while comparing notes on thinness, durability and lubrication, they ended up discussing the possibility of not using condoms.

He got himself checked out. Not because he wasn’t sure, he just wanted her to be. Lucy had told him she’d always used protection before. So, if he was going to be the first guy she trusted like that – the only guy, if he had any say in it – he wanted to show her he wasn’t taking it lightly. Then she decided to do the same, which he didn’t think was necessary at all, but she insisted on both of them doing it. And suddenly something very clinical turned into something pretty romantic, because of what it implied.

No one else. They are in this for the long haul.

But he still wants to give her the option to change her mind if she feels uncomfortable in any way, which is why he bought a shitload of condoms anyway, just to be sure.

So, he has come prepared. They have their candles, and there’s some music playing in the background. It’s very Lucy, actually. Some soft, relaxing tune. They’re casually conversating. She’s making them a nice dinner and by now she has mentioned them having the apartment to themselves all night – and all day tomorrow too – not once or twice, but close to a gazillion times. So, it’s safe to say both of them are aware of the situation they are in. But he figured they’d have dinner first. Maybe even some big, long lead-up that he was still planning out in the back of his mind. Some brilliant way to make his move tonight. But she brings up transferring to Hollywood division, and that’s his cue to fess up. She starts fighting him a little on it, which he figured would happen and all of a sudden, whatever the plan was, it’s overruled the moment she leans in.

‘But we’re so good at arguing.’

He blames her. It’s her fault that every ounce of his self-control evaporates at a frightening pace. Using that tone of voice on him really should be illegal. He does try to reign it in, but then she kisses him and he can’t be sure what makes it different. It’s slow, and sweet, with a hint of dirty playfulness that’s just pure Lucy, frankly. By now, he should be getting used to it, but he’s not. Maybe it was the way her voice sounded right before. Or the way she smiled going into it. Or how she melts into him, and holds onto him. It doesn’t really matter why though. He just knows it’s over for him now. He’s done.

‘I know,’ he replies, instantly regretting breaking the kiss and going in for a second as he rises to his feet. ‘But I’m hoping…’ he says, gazing down on her to find out she looks just as affected as he feels. Slightly dazed even, like she needs a second to catch her breath. She’s leaning on his chest, blinking rapidly and she stares at his lips before meeting his eyes. ‘…we’re good at certain other things as well.’

He can’t help but smile. Because he’s not just hoping. He’s certain they will be.

‘Yeah?’ she asks in a whispery voice, smiling back at him and he’s just so happy and so in love with her, he’s not quite sure what to do with himself. She’s drawing him in and he has no chance of resisting, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. ‘You wanna find out right now?’

She does that thing with her mouth, where she’s kind of holding back a smile, usually when she’s testing him in some way. He has always found it very hard to resist, and he’s not even going to try now.

‘Yeah.’ He’s kissing her again, taking her top lip between his. She immediately pops the first couple of buttons on his shirt as she sucks his bottom lip and he’s about to move his hand to the side of her face as her fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt to expertly tear it open in one more swift move. The sound she makes when she pushes it over his shoulders goes straight to his groin. He doesn’t even want to break away long enough for him to get rid of his shirt, but she does.

Her eyes are travelling down his torso in a way that makes him feel like he could rule the world. Her fingers are delicately trailing his abs, right above his belt, like she’s mentally undressing him further. He allows himself one long second to drink in that look she’s giving him, allowing her a better view as he yanks his arms out of his sleeves. It occurs to him how much he likes her looking at him. He always has, he realizes. The way her eyes dart over as he’s driving. How he can feel her look at him as he’s filling out paperwork. Sometimes he knows she’s watching him without actually seeing her. He feels like part of him only exists through her, it’s there because she sees it in him.

She smiles when their eyes meet. There’s a bit of shyness underneath her forwardness. The combination is intoxicating. He could live in this moment forever, just seeing the way she wants him. But he wants her more, and he can’t think of anything else, right now. It's not a conscious decision, the way he’s kissing her next. He’s all over her, grabbing her face and pouring all of his want, his need for her, in a filthy hot kiss. And she’s all over him, too. Soft, small hands roaming his body as he sucks her lip into his mouth and traces it with his tongue. She has touched him before, but not like this. Not with him knowing they are not stopping tonight. Not this confidently and purposefully. Like she just knows she owns him. Which she does, there’s no denying it.

Her hands are on his hips and there’s absolutely no way for her to miss how he’s rock hard, pressed against her belly. She’s moaning into their kiss. A low, sexy hum as he walks her backwards to her bedroom. She turns it into this horny laugh, one that he’s more than familiar with by now and makes him want to fuck her into the wall he’s pushing her up against next. He still makes sure she doesn’t hit her head on the doorframe, though. He’s not an animal. But, God damn, she’s going to be the death of him. She will ruin him for anyone else and he is going to absolutely ruin her.

She moves one hand to his neck, pulling his hips into hers with the other hand as she guides him into her bedroom. He’s eager to follow her lead, shuts the door and has her up against it the next second, his hand cradling the back of her head and his fingers all tangled up in her hair. Her face is tilted up, granting him easy access as he devours her. She softly hums again and he pushes into her like every bit of space between them is a personal offence.

He kisses her until he feels dizzy from a lack of oxygen. Dizzy on her. One of his hands is tugging at the string that holds her top together, a frustrated groan escaping him when he can’t figure it out. It seems to be a never-ending loop that’s getting tighter every time he tugs.

‘I’ll give you five seconds,’ he grunts. Their foreheads are still touching and he brushes her lips briefly before speaking again. ‘Five seconds to take it off properly before I start shredding it to pieces.’

Her eyes widen and she drops her head back in his hand, against the door, staring up at him in anticipation. ‘Why wait five seconds? Just rip it.’

‘Yeah?’

She nods, biting her lip and he pulls his hand from her hair to grab her top with both hands. Her chest is rising and falling under her labored breathing. She’s challenging him with her eyes.

‘Turn around,’ he orders, spinning her and pulling her ass into him before running his hands up her body to cup her breasts. He can feel the softness of her through all of the layers of clothing she’s wearing. The way her nipples pebble under his touch. The slight tremble of her entire body, making her sway a little on her feet.

‘Tim,’ she breaths. ‘Just take it off.’

He uses one hand to swipe her hair away, draping all of it over one shoulder to bare her neck. ‘I will,’ he whispers, dragging his teeth over her ear. ‘But I changed my mind on ruining it. I like it…’ He moves to her neck, pressing his lips to her pulse point. ‘I like seeing you in it.’

She pushes back at him, grinding her ass against him, moaning as he gently squeezes her breast. ‘Please just… tear it… I want you to.’

‘I want to see you wear it again,’ he says, before stepping back far enough to try and figure out how the fuck she managed to wrap the damn thing. It’s like she deliberately picks clothes that are impossible for him to take off. ‘Besides…’ he says, sounding more confident than he feels, ‘unwrapping a present is half the fun. And I’m gonna have so much fun with you, Lucy.’

She’s whimpering impatiently. Needy. It almost makes him change his mind again and wreck it anyway.

‘Almost there.’ He has found it now, and he loosens the string, turning her around as he peels her out of the wrap top, leaving her in a simple black camisole. He pulls it up little by little, baring soft skin he can’t wait to touch and taste.

She’s pouting a bit at his careful approach. ‘I really wanted you to –’ The rest of what she was going to say is drowned out as he tears the fabric apart without hesitation. Because there’s no way he’s gonna leave her disappointed in any way tonight. She gasps in surprise, watching him rip the whole thing to shreds, her cute little pout immediately replaced by a wicked smile.

He slips the thin shoulder straps down her arms. As the now useless fabric falls down, he spins her away from the door, hauling her up in his arms. She cries out as she clings to him. Her hair falls all around him, brushing his shoulders, framing both their faces until he clears one side, pressing his lips to her neck as he walks her over to her bed. He places her in the middle, hovering over her, trying to take a look at her like that. On her bed. Beneath him. It’s a short-lived pleasure, since she refuses to let go of him, tightening her arms around him, which brings him the brand-new pleasure of being wrapped in a full body embrace that he sinks into.

He kisses her, her soft curves meeting his hard edges as he covers her body with his, taking the little sounds she makes from her lips and swallowing them down. A slow, soft press of lips and tongue. For a surprisingly long minute or so there’s nothing else he wants. It’s perfect. Kissing Lucy always is. It’s like they somehow reinvented it that night in her living room, making him long to finish what they started there ever since. He has probably spent hours kissing her by now, and he still can’t get enough of it. But he’s becoming increasingly aware of how achingly hard he is and he realizes the sounds she’s making are coming from them grinding together like he’s planning on entering her through several layers of clothing.

He pushes himself up on one arm. He needs to get her naked right fucking now. He’s not sure what’s keeping him so long. It’s like he wants all of her all at once, but he also wants to savor the moment. Make it last. Make himself believe that this is happening for real.

He slowly moves his hand from her face to her neck, touching the pendant that’s resting on her sternum before moving his fingers down between her breasts. She looks absolutely breathtaking, all splayed out like this.

Her bra is a barely there set of see-through triangles in a similar shade of pink as the top she was wearing. The color looks amazing on her skin. All colors probably would. He’s in awe as he traces the scalloped edges. He has felt her up before, and translated the feeling to a mental image, but somehow, he still wasn’t prepared to see those gorgeous tits for real. He can see her nipples through the softest pieces of lace he has ever felt and he has to remind himself how to breathe, because he’s pretty sure he’s completely forgetting to. She is fucking perfect.

‘God, you’re pretty.’ He’s staring at her, and he can’t stop. It’s for every time he made himself look away. Every time he couldn’t look, even though he desperately wanted to. Every time he walked her to her car, itching to look and touch and tell her to get in his truck instead. For every time he did the right thing, and pushed it all down. Saying good night instead of kissing her. Keeping his distance when she was right there. Walking away when all he wanted was… this.  

He moves his hand over her belly. Down, and then back up again. His movements tantalizingly slow. He cups her breast, running his thumb over her nipple. She arches into his touch, goosebumps appearing all over her skin. Her arms, the top of her breasts.

‘Please come here,’ she says, running her hand over his side and he almost loses it. She can’t be fucking begging for him. He’s completely out of his depth as is. He can’t handle her turning him on more. He’s sure she’s mercilessly going to, though. He hasn’t even finished undressing her.

He hooks his finger under the strap of her bra, letting it drop from her shoulder before moving the lacy triangle down over her breast until it bounces free. He watches her, bending down to tease her nipple with the flick of his tongue. She makes a desperate little noise, and he sucks, taking as much of her in his mouth as he possibly can.

She squirms beneath him, holding onto him with both hands, scratching his scalp lightly as she drags her fingers through his hair. He palms her other breast, kneading it softly, circling her nipple and she pushes her hips up against his. He pushes right back. It’s almost painful, the way he’s straining against his zipper.

‘Please, Tim,’ she whimpers, pulling her leg up and digging the heel of her shoe in the back of his thigh. ‘Can’t wait any longer. Just, please, please do something.’

The thing is he wants to. He desperately does. But he wants to take his time with her, too. There will be plenty of opportunity for him to take her hard and fast. But that’s not what he has in mind for now. He briefly wonders if it had been that way if things had gone differently after going undercover. Before setting foot in her apartment, he had fast-forwarded in his mind, picturing all the possibilities for what felt like an eternity while she opened the door. Rushing things with her hadn’t been on his agenda. If that moment was all he was going to get, he sure as hell was planning on making it count.    

He can’t answer her, because that would mean he has to stop swirling his tongue around her nipple, drawing lazy circles that elicit a high-pitched keening sound from her. It triggers something possessive in him. Like it’s his sound, just like her horny laugh is his laugh. He’s jealous of every other guy that has ever heard it. He wants her to only give it to him from now on, and he’s going to earn that privilege.

He lets go of her nipple and moves his hand over her body, tracing the tattoo on her ribs. His name. It anchors him to see it there.

Mine, he thinks. It’s a feeling that runs deep, like it comes from the center of his very being. She is his, just like he’s hers. He spreads his fingers, touching as much of her as he can, almost spanning the full width of her waist. He watches it for seconds; the way his hand rises and falls in time with her breathing. He dips his finger in her belly button, and meets her eyes as he moves to the soft, feminine curve below, letting the weight of his hand settle for a second, before slipping it underneath the waistband of her pants, feeling the lace of her panties. Mine.

Her eyes fall shut and she bucks up, pushing herself into his hand more.

‘Look at me,’ he urges her, and she immediately follows his order, stilling her movements. ‘Don’t stop what you’re doing. You can take what you need. Need my fingers, baby?’

She moans, and he doesn’t really need her to answer, because it’s all there in her eyes. So expressive, telling him everything he needs to know. She can sell any lie she needs to, but he has never needed more than one look to know how she feels.

He shoves his hand down her pants as far as it will go. ‘You are gorgeous, Lucy. So perfect. I’ll give you anything you need.’ He buries his face in the space between her neck and shoulder and breathes in her scent. She lets her leg fall to the side, giving him full access, presenting herself to him and he moves his fingers, curling them in the lace, pressing down and feeling her.

‘Yes,’ she whispers, temporarily relieved by his fingers rubbing her softly in a circular motion. ‘God yes, Timmmm…’

He wants to hear her say his name like that for all eternity. He presses his tongue to her skin, tasting her, licking a trail from the little dip between her clavicles, all the way up to her ear, flicking the little earring she’s wearing. He could stay like this forever, feeling her cling to him, arch into him, his fingers pressed to that sweet spot of slick goodness, his lips resting on warm, soft skin. No, he will not rush this.

‘Lucy,’ he says, kissing the spot right behind her earlobe. ‘I am going to make you come over and over again, every way I can, all night long. I want to touch you, taste you, fuck you. For hours, for days.’

She whimpers as he pulls his hand away from her and kneels down in front of the bed. She pushes herself up on her elbows and gazes at him, like she’s not sure what he’s doing over there, suddenly.

‘Is that alright with you?’ he asks, unzipping one of her high-heeled ankle boots. He looks up at her when he takes it off, seeing her nod in agreement. ‘That a yes?’

‘Yes,’ she breathes.

‘Good.’ He moves to her other foot and it’s only then that he notices she’s wearing pink ankle socks with a pattern of little white flowers.

‘Oh, crap,’ she says, sitting up and pulling her legs in to take them off. ‘I wasn’t planning on you seeing those.’

‘Why not?’ he asks, smiling. ‘They’re very cute. You can leave them on if you want. I don’t mind.’

‘I do mind, and I wasn’t planning on being cute, either,’ she says, tucking her boob back in her bra like she’s self-conscious all of a sudden, which is not going to fly with him.

‘Well, that’s a losing game. You’re always cute. You can’t help it. But the thing is…’ He reaches up and grabs her ankle, dragging her to the edge of the bed, making her drop back on her elbows again. ‘You are also very, very hot. In fact: you drive me crazy with how incredibly hot you are.’ He opens the button of her pants. ‘Lift that sexy ass for me, baby.’

She giggles and obliges, lifting her hips. He drags her pants down, tossing them to the side and then it’s just her in tiny lace panties and a matching bra. He’s pretty sure she knows he’s short-circuiting.

‘Lucy,’ he manages to wrangle past the lump in his throat. She looks amused. And a bit nervous, which might have something to do with him staring at her like he wants to eat her. Which, in fact, is literally what he wants to do right now. ‘You are so beautiful.’

He runs his hands up her calves, moving them apart to kiss the inside of her knee. He notices her shivering. ‘Are you okay, baby?’

She hums, staring at him and biting her lip as he makes his way up, pressing soft kisses to her inner thigh. She slumps back, like she can’t keep herself upright any longer and she whimpers as he slowly, carefully drags his teeth across the softness of her flesh, sinking in just a little, then soothing it with his tongue.

‘You’re in control,’ he reminds her. ‘Whenever you say stop, I’ll stop. Just say the word. Yeah?’

‘Tim, if you even think about stopping, I will hurt you.’

‘Nice. We can try that some other time,’ he replies and moves his hand to her outer thigh.

She laughs nervously, but he is focused and dead serious. There’s so much he already knows about her. The way she feels, fills his hands in the most perfect way. How wet she gets for him. How she tenses and then melts completely when she comes. He even knows her taste on his fingers afterwards. But there’s still a lot to discover. What she looks and feels like completely naked. He hasn’t removed more than her shirt before just now. He knows every little crease and fold of her pussy, has been exploring her thoroughly, but he has never been inside of her. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back once he knew what it felt like to fuck her, even if he only used his fingers. But he’s dying to do exactly that. To have her naked, opening her up inch by inch, preparing her to take him.

He drags his lips up, licking and sucking until he reaches the crease of her thigh and he can smell her arousal. It’s his favorite scent.

It’s Lucy. And she’s his. All his. He makes a bit of an animalistic sound as he leans in. Her hips jerk up to meet him. He has waited so long now, and suddenly he can’t wait any longer. He grabs her hips, pressing his lips between her legs, opening his mouth, grazing his teeth against her through her panties. She arches up, slamming her legs together, holding him in a delicious grasp.

He kneads her thighs and dives in deeper, pressing his tongue flat against her, making her panties stick to her in a scandalously hot way. It’s a sight that makes him go feral, and the fabric needs to go now. It. Just. Needs. To. Go. He’s pulling her panties down, working them over her thighs, past her knees, down her ankles. He lifts her leg, draping it over his shoulder and plants her other foot on the edge of the matrass. She moans as he moves his hand up and slowly pulls her knee to the side, spreading her open. He takes a second to just stare and she mumbles something unintelligible, dropping her forearm over her eyes.

All of a sudden, he snaps out of it. He buries himself between those luscious thighs and licks, tongue pressed to her entrance, sliding inside just a little as he holds her squirming body in place.

‘Fuck, Tim, oh my God… I’m… Oh God!’

She’s soaking wet. Just dripping for him. And he wants all of her juices. He moves his hands over her entire body, caressing her, touching her everywhere, digging his fingertips in the soft but firm tissue of her legs, then moving them to her hips, thumbs stroking her belly as he holds her still and drags his tongue through her inner lips.

Fuck, he has never liked this as much as he does now. The taste of her, the way she responds to him, the way she just surrenders and lets him have his way with that gorgeous body of hers.

She’s reaching blindly for something to hold on to, grabbing fistfuls of bedding as her body twists. He reaches for her, cupping her breast in his hand and throwing a forearm over her stomach, pressing her down. Her fingers find purchase on him, desperately clutching his arms, shoulders, head. She pushes him into her as she arches up, slamming herself into his mouth.

‘Tim! I can’t… please… O, fuck…’

She’s fucking mesmerizing. The shaking of her body, the way she’s crying out for him. It’s almost enough to make him come in his pants. He’s fondling her breasts with both hands now and she’s covering his hands, pushing her breasts into them, grabbing onto his arms.   

‘Tim… I… I can’t… I need… O my God...’ She’s falling apart, her body trembling as he’s lapping at her, sucking her clit, tracing her folds with the tip of his tongue, finding the spot he knows works like a charm to make her come. God damn, this is good. He pushes her knee towards her, opening her up a little more as he strokes her gently with two fingers, dipping into the slick mess he’s made of her.

‘Yes!’ she cries, digging her nails into his forearm. ‘Please, Tim! Please, please…’ 

‘I got you, baby. It’s okay. You can let go.’ He pushes in deeper, her body yielding to him, all soft and hot and wet. Just one finger and she feels so tight around it, clenching down on him. He slowly pulls back, and eases in again, twisting his hand a little, carefully stretching her.

‘Right there, don’t stop, Tim. Please…’ She arches her back, hips thrusting up and he’s teasing her with little flicks of his tongue as he curls his finger and tries to find the exact spot to make her…   

‘Ahhhh!’ She comes hard, her body writhing, trashing as he inserts another finger just to give her more to clench down on. She’s breathing hard, soaking his hand, whimpering as his fingers carefully work her through her orgasm.

Lucy isn’t exactly shy about making noise, but her orgasms have been pretty quiet up until now. She usually muffles her cries against his chest, or presses her mouth to his neck. But she’s letting him hear her now, and he’s losing his mind over it. He sucks down on her one last time, pulling his fingers out and pushing his tongue deep instead, kissing her, tasting the sweet release of her orgasm on her, not willing to stop just yet. Then, a new wave is hitting her. One he didn’t see coming. It’s taking another full minute for the tension to seep out of her body, until her hips slump back and she goes totally limp. Her breathing still ragged. Her hand relaxes, fingers releasing their tight grip on him.

For a minute, he keeps completely still. Tongue pressed against her fluttering center, eyes closed, just taking it all in, that he’s there with her, doing this to her. He closes his lips on her, kissing her softly before looking up. Her eyes are closed, lips parted, chest heaving. The most beautiful fucking sight he has ever seen.

‘I will remember you like this till the day I die,’ he says, moving up to reach her, making full contact with her entire body. He cradles her, spooning her from behind. ‘My girl, so fucking gorgeous. How are you even real?’

She makes a little sound. It’s somewhere between a giggle and a sob. He grabs her chin to meet her lips, kissing her feverishly, sucking at her bottom lip, as his hand trails down her throat.

It takes her a while to respond, dazed from coming. Slowly she reaches out, her hand finding the back of his head. ‘My ears are ringing,’ she whispers against his lips.  

‘That’s how you know it was a good one.’ He moves his hand down to her breast, tenderly cupping it and stroking her.

He moves down her ribs, softly touching her belly, caressing her soft skin, moving further down even, because he simply can’t stop touching her. He reaches between her legs, playing with the small patch of dark curly hairs, unable to resist dipping deeper as she backs up on his hard-on that is throbbing against her bare ass. He can still feel the flutter of her inner muscles. She feels so fucking amazing, there’s nothing like this, slipping his fingers between her slick inner lips, working her into another frenzy.

‘Why aren’t you naked yet,’ she breathes, pulling back just enough to give him a look of pure unadulterated lust and he can’t think of a single reason not to be. He rolls over, tugging at his belt, undoing it.

He raises his hips to shove his pants down, but he’s only managed about two inches before she swings her leg over and climbs on top of him.

‘I think that’s my gift to unwrap,’ she says, sinking down on him, making him hurt in the best possible way.

‘That’s what you think, huh?’

‘You already had your turn, so it’s only fair.’ Her eyes are sparkling devilishly, as she traps her lip between her teeth.

‘Wouldn’t want to be unfair.’ He wraps her up in his arms, stopping her from biting that lip by kissing her and running his tongue over it soothingly. ‘Wasn’t quite done with my turn, though,’ he says, running his fingers up her spine to unclasp her bra.

‘You are a greedy man.’ Her hands are on his shoulders, moving to his biceps and down his chest. She pushes and he only lets her push him back so he can watch her as she slides the straps from her shoulders, making the little see-through triangles drop.  She leans over, bringing her pretty, perfectly sized tits right there in front of his face ‘You’re lucky you’re so hot.’ It’s a horny, playful little whisper brushing his face as she rotates her hips lazily, dragging herself over his erection.

‘I’m lucky, for sure.’

‘Yeah, you are.’ Fuck, he’s ready to flip her, pin her beneath him and just fucking ravish her, but he’s captured by the sight of her, sitting on top of him completely naked. He moves to capture one of her breasts with his mouth, but she backs away just enough, so he settles for palming both of them, weighing them in his hands, torn between wanting to see them and wanting to touch them, and wanting to suck them.

‘Lucy…’ he begs.

She smiles, leaning into his hands more, letting her eyes drift over his upper body, her hair tickling his forearms as she looks down. It’s insane how much he wants her to look at him. He even lets go of her breasts in favor of not blocking her view, giving himself quite a view in the process while his hands find purchase on her hips. He holds her down as he thrusts up a little, making her suck in a breath. He does it again just to hear her make that sound once more. He just simply can’t resist, feeling her grind against his dick, with his pants open and halfway down his hips, just the fabric of his boxer briefs between them.

She shifts her weight on her knees, lifting her ass off of him, making him growl at the loss of friction. Then her hair sweeps his skin as she presses her lips to his chest, kissing her way down to his abdomen. A hot, wet, much too slow trail. Her hand moves over his stomach, lingering as he gathers her hair, getting his fingers stuck in the long, silky waves. He’s too caught up in the feeling of her – her breath against his skin, the soft caress of her hair as she inches down on his body – to notice it at first. The way she’s kissing and touching one particular spot on his left.

Not only is it agonizingly arousing – he’s harder than he’s ever been in his entire life at this point – it also warms his chest in a way he’s not sure he has ever experienced. She’s making him feel loved and cared for, and when her eyes look for him in between pressing sweet little kisses to the same spot over and over again, he realizes she’s kissing the scar that’s left from the bullet he took on her second day of training. It feels like she wants to heal it, or maybe try and heal all of the pain he ever felt in his life, and he thinks maybe she could, because he can’t remember any of it. There’s only her and he reaches for her, wanting to pull her up and hold her close. Feel her heart beat against his and thank her for existing. For coming into his life. For being his boot, and save him from himself. For always showing up for him. For her amazing, beautiful, kind soul. For making him want to be a better person. For just being her.

He feels choked up to the point he thinks he might start crying, but right before he loses it, he loses it in a completely different way when she reaches down and settles her hand right over his cock. It’s throbbing against her hand, and he seriously considers the possibility that her hand is actually made to grip him like this. She rubs him through his boxers, and dips her head to kiss him right above the waistband. His dick twitches, like it has a mind of his own, trying to get out of the restraint his underwear poses. Closer to those lips.

He drops his hand over hers, in desperate need of some measure of control.

‘Tim,’ she says sternly. ‘It’s my turn now, remember? My present. Now let me play.’

‘Baby…’ he groans, ‘You’re killing me, here.’

She giggles and once again she has him marveling at the duality of her. Such a sweet little thing, but she can be so fucking bad. She kisses the top of his hand, runs her teeth over his knuckles and he turns his hand over in return, pressing it to her cheek, running his fingers through her hair. He’s lost in her eyes, dark brown and lust-filled, staring at him as she pulls him free from his boxer briefs. Next thing he knows, her mouth is on him, her hair falling over his stomach, her fingers around the base of his cock, her other hand pressing into his thigh.

‘Jesus motherfucking Christ,’ he mutters. He’s not a religious man, but with Lucy’s lips wrapped around him, he’s bloody fucking sure heaven is real. She’s warm and wet and sucks him down like she’s starved for him. The sounds she’s making are sinful, and he’s making a real effort not to fucking move, or breathe, or even fucking think of thrusting up, because he will fucking explode. He needs her to stop right fucking now, but it’s so good he can’t bring himself to make her. He can’t do anything but let her tear an endless stream of goddamnfuckingchristbabyLucysogood out of him.

It's the praise that makes her let go of him with a wet popping sound, looking up at him proudly while she licks her bottom lip, and he knows he needs to act now or he’s done. He grabs her face, spanning her entire jaw with just one hand. Seeing her startled expression, he kisses her roughly. ‘One more second of that and I would have come. I want to come inside of you.’

‘So, what are we waiting for?’ she teases and he hurriedly shoves down his pants. She’s leaning into him as he works to kick off his shoes, running her hand up and down his back, as he’s fighting his way out of everything he’s wearing.

‘Still okay with no condoms? I’ll get them if you’ve changed your mind.’

‘I haven’t. You?’ she asks, pressing her lips to his shoulder blade.

‘Not a chance in hell.’ He turns, completely naked now, caging her in with his arms as she scoots back on the bed.

She looks excited and nervous and gorgeous.

‘Let’s do this,’ he says, smiling.

‘Wow, that’s romantic!’ she exclaims without missing a beat, and he laughs, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him.

‘I love you,’ he says, lowering his body onto hers, bracing himself on one arm so he doesn’t squash her. He might be overwhelming her, but he can’t hold it back, feeling all of her for the first time. Her full breasts pressed to his chest. Her velvety skin against his own as she envelops him. She blinks, and he carefully brushes a piece of hair away before he kisses her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose. And he suddenly realizes why it’s so different with her. Why he feels so out of it, and almost hesitant. It’s because he has never had a first time with someone he loves. Falling in love always came after. But he already loves Lucy and that’s what makes this feel so terrifyingly important.

It's also his last first time. He had wanted forever with Isabel at some point, but he wasn’t there yet when they first slept together. But he knows it now. With Lucy, he’s sure this is it. For the rest of his life, if it’s up to him.

He grazes her lips, barely a kiss since she seems to have trouble catching her breath.

‘Tim…’ she whispers, her eyes moving up from his lips to his eyes as she runs the tips of her fingers over de back of his head. ‘I really love you, too.’

He smiles, and he’s lost in her eyes and he can’t remember a time he ever felt liked this. This together with another person. It feels like he spent his whole life looking for her, and it took him so long to realize he’d already found her. But he knows now, and she knows, and it’s the most amazing feeling ever.

She draws a deep breath, and her lip starts to tremble.

‘Lucy?’ he asks, seeing her eyes fill with tears. ‘What’s wrong?’

She buries her face in his neck, and she holds onto him like he’s a lifeline. ‘Nothing’s wrong. It’s perfect. You’re perfect and I just… I’m so happy this is happening. I’m so happy it’s you. I’ve wanted it to be you for so long.’

There’s a tight, clenching feeling building in his chests at the soft, vulnerable sound of her voice. He can feel her words against his skin as she speaks and he presses his lips to her hair. ‘I’m so happy it’s you too, Lucy. I want it to be you forever.’

She looks at him, blinking in surprise, or at the tears in her eyes, or both. He can’t help but smile again, brushing his thumb over her cheek where one tear is cascading down. ‘Please. No more waiting.’

He moves his hand between them, down her body. He aligns himself with her, dragging his cock over her, softly nudging her clit. She angles her hips just right and she feels so good. Soaked and ready for him. But she’s so tiny and she felt so tight around his fingers. The thought of hurting her makes him feel sick to his stomach.

‘I’m okay,’ she says like she’s reading his mind.

He meets her eyes. ‘I’ll go slow. Okay? Tell me… If it’s too much.’

‘Yes. I want you, Tim.’

He sweeps his bottom lip across her upper lip and she catches it, sucking it into her mouth as he pushes down carefully, splitting her open, filling her slowly. Thoroughly.

She gasps, and presses her body up against his, digging her heel in the back of his thigh. He keeps still, waiting for her to adjust, grazing her lips with featherlight kisses. In the end it’s not too much at all. It turns out to be perfection.

Chapter Text

Lucy is a lying liar who lies. She picked up that phrase from someone she really, really likes and it kind of stuck with her. Like everything that person ever said, or did, or taught her has. She is lying right this moment, because no matter how she convinced herself she just really, really liked him, deep down she had always known it was so much more.

She told herself so many lies. It was just a little crush. Okay? It’s okay to have a little crush on your T.O. Especially when he looks like that. Who could blame her for being attracted to him? She sure as hell wasn’t the only one at the precinct with eyes. If she were to make a list, it would be easier to name the people who wouldn’t want to sleep with him, than the ones who did want to do exactly that and could imagine vividly how that would all play out.

The things he would do to her, how he would talk to her. How it would be so easy for him to grab her, pick her up, toss her around whichever way he liked.

And that was okay, too. Having sexual fantasies about your hot T.O. every once in a while, surely wasn’t that big of deal. It was innocent, really.

And what if she also admired him? And respected him? And was in awe of him? Tim is an admirable person. The way he takes charge. How good of a cop he is. The way he can assess a critical situation in just the blink of an eye and choose strategy and make people do what needs to be done. The way he teaches her how to do all of that, too. It’s a normal thing to feel that way about him. It would be weird if she didn’t? Right?

Right. So… of course she liked him. How could you not like someone who goes through what Tim has gone through in his life, and still comes out a good person. Which is a lie, too, because Tim’s not just a good person. He’s the best person she knows. He has the biggest heart and the kindest soul and all of his gruff exterior is just that. An armor to protect that beautiful soul within.

So what, if she felt a little protective of him, too? He has been her beacon of strength on so many occasions. She wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for him. It’s only natural it creates some kind of bond between them. And yes, maybe it makes her feel a little possessive of him. Her T.O.

She could hear herself say it all the time. My T.O. this and my T.O. that.

I’m your rookie.

He was my T.O. He’s great. You will learn so much.

So yeah, maybe she liked talking about him. She couldn’t really help she had a Tim story for every occasion. It’s because she’s always with him, beside him, near him, for three years, now.

She did feel a bit awkward when one of the guys from UC training at some point asked her: ‘What’s with that T.O. of yours? You haven’t been a rookie for quite some time now. You should be glad he’s out of your hair.’ It didn’t make her talk about him any less, but whenever she did, she made a point of just calling him Bradford. Which ultimately led to the guys giving her grief about that, calling him The Great Bradford and saying things like: what would Bradford do? when they were working on assignments.

It was pretty annoying, actually, because it wasn’t like that. Not at all. Because they both were in relationships with other people and he wouldn’t ever see her like that. And maybe she had a little crush, and there might have been some chemistry and physical attraction when they were undercover, and yes, she missed him and thought about him constantly, but it wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t.

Unless of course it was. And she knows, for her, it had always been that way and she has been a lying liar who lies all along. But there are no lies now. He’s not holding back anything and neither is she. And she feels like they’re both aware of where they stand. Of the significance of this moment between them. So when he tells her he loves her, he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he would have said: my name is Tim. Or: your hair is brown. Like it’s just a simple fact.

She knows he does not just throw those words around. He doesn’t with any words, especially significant ones. Especially when it’s about his feelings. He keeps those close, but he’s never been afraid to say anything if he really wants her to hear it. And when he says it now, it means something different to her than a couple of weeks ago, when they were hiding in the observation area of one of the interrogation rooms and he told her he was in love with her.

I’m so in love with you, is what he said. It was wonderful, the way the words seemed to surprise even himself.

But the way he says it now is deliberate. He decided to say it, and she can’t know for sure, but she thinks he might have only said it to one other person before. And even though Lucy would never compare herself to her, because she was his wife, and Lucy has seen him fight for her, refusing to give up on her when anyone else would have let go long before.

She knows that if Tim would have had any choice in the matter, he’d still be married to her. He wouldn’t be here right now, staring at her like this. Making her feel things she never ever has in her entire life. Didn’t even know she would be capable of. But he is here. And he loves her. And she’s so ready to say it back. She doesn’t, though. Not immediately, anyway, because she wants him to know her reply is deliberate too. So, she takes a moment to soak up his words, his love for her, and he brushes her hair away from her face and kisses her forehead, her cheek, like he doesn’t even expect her to say anything at all. And she’s so thankful for him.

There’s a lot she wants to say to him. That everything feels right when he’s around. That he means everything to her, and falling in love with him was an inevitable thing for her, and she feels like it’s still happening. She’s still falling. Deeper each day, every minute. Being with him makes her the happiest she’s ever been and the thought of not being near him all day... Of only seeing him after work, on their days off, like any other couple would, seems unbearable to her. She wants to spend all of her time with him. To always feel like this, like only he can make her feel.

And he feels the same. She can hardly imagine it; Tim wanting her around all of the time. Tim that made her walk beside the shop on day one, who told her: no personal talk. Who never let an opportunity go by to remind her of the fact her mere presence annoyed him. Who always preferred her silent. She can’t be sure when it all changed for him, but it did, because he just gave it all up for her.

He took a boring desk job. Just to be near her all day, every day. He sacrificed his own career, that he loves, again. He has picked her over anything else, always.

When she says his name, her voice is soft, and she desperately wants to kiss him. But he deserves to hear her say it, first. Those words that are only for him. Something she has never said before. ‘I really love you, too.’

The way he smiles brings tears to her eyes. She has always loved seeing his smile. She can’t help wanting to bring it out and succeeding in doing so has always been one of the most satisfying things in the world to her. But nothing could have prepared her for the way he has been smiling lately. And seeing it directed at her… knowing she’s the source of it, of him being happy… That’s almost more than she can process.

Tim is happy. She makes him happy.

‘Lucy?’ he asks, seeing her eyes fill with tears. ‘What’s wrong?’

She hugs him, pressing her face to his neck, into that special spot where she fits exactly right, and she can breathe in how good he smells. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she tries to reassure him, because the last thing she wants is for her to ruin the mood by having a mental breakdown. ‘It’s perfect. You’re perfect and I just… I’m so happy this is happening. I’m so happy it’s you. I’ve wanted it to be you for so long.’

She can feel his lips in her hair as he softly speaks. ‘I’m so happy it’s you too, Lucy. I want it to be you forever.’

Forever. He wants forever with her? She knows they’re both serious, but hearing him say it almost feels unreal. And there’s that amazing smile again, as he swipes his thumb across her cheek to catch a falling tear. She needs him to prove all of this is not just a figment of her imagination, and she needs it now. ‘Please,’ she says. ‘No more waiting.’

She has never felt more ready. Desperate even, to feel him inside of her. His hand wanders down her body, touching her, checking her before he positions himself. Her body moves on instinct to accommodate him as he guides himself towards her entrance. He’s so gentle with her, like she’ll break if he isn’t careful.

‘I’m okay,’ she says, because she can feel his hesitation. Up until now, she has felt a little nervous too. Because he is big. Not in a monstrous way, but definitely in a way that suits the rest of his tall, gorgeous body. Her enthusiasm when she sucked him got her a long way, but she will need some practice before she’ll be able to take all of him. She’s looking forward to her training though. She already loves his cock. She has never seen a better looking one in her life and maybe she should have told him, because he’s telling her he thinks she’s pretty and perfect all of the time. She didn’t think to voice her thoughts. She just felt elated to finally go ahead and touch him, taste him, please him. And if he hadn’t stopped her, she would have let him come in her mouth, which she has never let a guy do before.

She has never wanted all of someone before. She had always used a condom. With Tim, she wants nothing between them. And all of the nerves she has been feeling – What if they aren’t physically compatible at all? What if he literally doesn’t fit? – have subsided now. It’s a little overwhelming how much she wants him. The actual penetration usually isn’t her favorite part. Sometimes she likes it, but she has mostly felt it’s more for the guy’s enjoyment. With some guys that is exactly why she liked it, because she liked them and making them feel good, made her feel good.

Sex has often felt like an act of giving to her, but with Tim she’s been on the receiving end for weeks now and she has never felt a physical longing as deep as she does now. She absolutely craves him, and she knows they’ll make it work. If he doesn’t fit, they will damn well make it fit.

He looks at her. His expression so soft and concerned for her. ‘I’ll go slow. Okay? Tell me… If it’s too much.’

‘Yes,’ she says, sounding every bit as desperate as she’s feeling. ‘I want you, Tim.’

The soft brush of his lips against hers make her eyes fall closed and she sucks his bottom lip, letting him settle between her legs. She can feel her inner muscles work, clenching around the idea of what he’ll feel like in anticipation, until finally, slowly and so very carefully, the idea becomes reality. It’s unlike anything she has ever felt before, feeling him inch his way inside of her. Somehow he feels even bigger than she imagined he would and she needs to let go of his lip in order to draw a breath.

He stills, waiting for her to adjust, peppering her with the softest kisses, locking eyes with her in between. ‘So good, baby,’ he whispers. ‘You’re doing so good for me.’

She whimpers in delight, pulling her legs up, wrapping them around him, opening herself up a little more as he eases in further. She zeroes in on him. Nothing else exists besides him. The way he looks at her. His eyes the darkest blue she’s ever seen. His scent that envelops her, just like she has always wanted it to. The way his strong, tall body just looms over her, weighing her down without crushing her. The feeling of his skin beneath her hands, between her thighs, against her belly and her breasts. His sculpted body somehow manages to simultaneously be the softest and hardest thing she has ever been cuddled up to and he is her entire world. It’s all Tim. Sinking into her at a glacial pace. He is all there is. The beginning, the end and all that’s in between.

She’s tingly all over, like he’s setting her on fire, and she expects at least a little discomfort at how he’s stretching her, but there isn’t any. Maybe it’s because he’s so careful with her. Almost like he thinks he’s taking her virginity.

She ponders that briefly, how perfect it would be to have Tim Bradford be your first. How every girl should get to experience this kind of attentiveness. She falls a bit deeper yet again, even when she imagines there being quite a string of girls he did that for. He might not be her first, but in a way he is. He’s the first man she loves. And better yet, he might be her last. He has to be, because no one else will ever compare to him.

‘You okay?’ he asks as she clings to him, digging the tips of her fingers in his shoulders, adrift in her want, her need for him. Wanting to exist in this moment forever, but longing for what’s next as well.

‘Yes,’ she all but sobs. ‘Tim… yes! Oh god…’ She presses her breasts up, into his chest. He pulls back a little, then sinks back in slowly, even further than before. It takes her by surprise, that there’s still more of him in the first place. And how easily her body just gives in to him.

He thrusts shallowly, watching her intently, like he’s not willing to miss a single blink, or breath from her. ‘Fuck Lucy, you feel…’ His voice is shaky, uneven. He drops his forehead to lean against hers, unable to finish the sentence. She moves her fingers to his neck, caressing him, just sharing air with him and reveling in being connected this intimately as he’s steadying himself. ‘You are incredible. So perfect.’

‘Tim…’ She shifts underneath him, tilting her hips, urging him to move, to do something to relieve the ache for him that is crawling its way inside of her. Finally, he pulls back once more, then sinks in again in an agonizingly slow, delicious way. Licking into her mouth as she opens her lips to release a sigh of pleasure. She darts out her tongue, sweeping it against his, running it over his, under his, making hungry sounds she can’t seem to control as he starts setting out a pace.

She moans beneath him, feeling erratic. Heart pounding so hard she fears it might beat right out of her chest. A thrumming, blazing rage that’s building inside of her, stringing her tight. So tight. Winding her up and unravelling her at the same time. She’s so close already, it’s insane.

His lips are pressed to her skin, to the soft tissue of her throat. His breath is on her. His hands are on her. The soft brush of his fingers against her face, her throat, the stroke of his thumb. The stubble on his chin brushing the side of her neck as he rests his lips on her clavicle. Slowly pressing down, opening to nip at the shape of the bone. Her name, whispered to her so softly, so sweetly in that deep voice she loves so much. Lucy.

He lifts his face to lock eyes with her then, and she feels like her heart might stop. He’s stroking her hair, tenderly pushing it away from her face, as he’s rocking into her, filling her so completely, worshipping her. She never thought she would have this. This kind of love. His love. How did she miss it before? That all of this was there between them? That he somehow started to feel all of this love for her? How did he hide it? It’s pouring out of him now, like he’s unable to contain it.

She wants to reciprocate. Give him everything he’s giving her, but she doesn’t know how or even where to begin. Suddenly, she’s back to being his rookie. Having him guide her into new territory, teaching her, showing her the full meaning of something she hadn’t even scratched the surface of before. Before him.

‘Okay, baby?’ he checks again, bringing his hand to her face, resting his fingers against her neck as he holds her entire jaw in the curve of his thumb and index finger. There’s no force in his grip, it’s as tender as it gets, but there’s a possessiveness to the gesture that she absolutely craves right now. Being his. Needing to be his completely.

She’s almost incoherent at this point, but manages to squeeze a ‘Y-yes…’ past her vocal chords. ‘I just– I’m… Tim…’ She drowns his name in a deep moan as he angles himself perfectly and hits a spot inside of her that causes angels to sing.

‘You close, Lucy? Tell me what you need, I’ll do anything…’

She can almost literally feel her jaw drop at the idea of him thinking there’s anything more she could possibly need. What is he saying? There’s more he could do? Like, he can do better?

‘Anything for you, baby. ‘He moves his thumb over her chin, caressing her bottom lip as he slowly leans in. He brushes his nose against hers, and teases her upper lip with the tip of his tongue. Then he looks at her again and says the exact thing she wants him to. ‘You’re mine now.’

Even the way he’s saying it, is perfect. It’s a statement, not a question. But he makes it sound so incredulous. There’s a vulnerability to it. Like he can hardly make himself believe she finally is and needs the affirmation.

He moves his tongue along her lip again, waiting for hers to come and meet him. When she does, he touches her tongue gently, making her hum in satisfaction, licking him back. The tenderness of it has her in a chokehold. She can barely breathe around it. It’s all-consuming and just… wonderful.

She moves one arm under his, letting her fingers trail from his ribs to the small of his back. She can feel his smile against her lips as she wraps herself around him even more tightly. His fingers move to the back of her neck, getting all tangled up in her hair as their kissing intensifies, burying himself to the hilt with each thrust and ripping more sounds out of her each time he grinds down.

‘Lucy… those noises you make…’ His voice is so low, it’s more of a grumble than anything else. ‘You’re so good, baby. You’re a dream.’

He must know what he’s doing, talking to her like that. Telling her how good she is, which is all she ever wants to be for him. Pure extasy is coursing through her veins. It’s building inside of her so steady. ‘Yours,’ she whispers, just trying to make him say it again, to confirm. ‘I’m… yours…’

‘Damn right, you’re mine.’ His words vibrate in his chest. She can feel them just as much as she hears them. ‘I’m yours, too. You own me.’

A wave of pleasure surges through her, and she’s sure she’s going to come, but he stills his movements, keeping her right there on the precipice.

She holds him close, digging her fingers in his back and wrapping one hand around his bulging bicep that’s supporting most of his weight. He’s as deep into her as he can possibly get, and he’s not pulling back, keeping himself right there, grinding down on her. He holds her gaze, making it impossible for her to break away from his stare.

Her soul lies bare to him.

It’s the most intimate she has ever been with anyone in her entire life. It’s like time stops and it’s just the two of them. Him rolling his hips against her in that delicious, slow grind, keeping her full of him like he never wants to separate from her again. Making her clench down and soak him as she gets closer and closer and closer. There’s a sound she makes, it’s soft and breathy, but it comes from a place she didn’t know existed. She’s trembling, arching up at him, fucking him back. It’s like she’s having an orgasm, only it’s not ending. He’s keeping her in it, on the verge of it, drawing it out with every roll of his hips. It’s so good. It feels so good.

‘Fuck… Lucy… That’s it, baby. Come for me. Come with me?’

She moans in agreement, too far gone to get any words out.

He smiles, brushing his nose against hers softly, lovingly, in this tender way he has with her. ‘That’s my girl.’ He sounds strangled, his voice rough like gravel, but his touch is almost featherlike as he rests his hand on the top of her head, moving his fingers through her hair and caressing her forehead with his thumb, shielding her from the world.

She feels owned, like she belongs to him now. And loved. And deeply wanted.

He looks at her, then kisses her, pushing his tongue in her mouth and pulling his hips back just far enough to hit all the right spots on his way back in. She’s glued to him, cocooning him. Locking him in between her thighs. Arms wrapped around him, scratching his back, his shoulders, as she holds onto him.

He picks up speed just a little, driving himself into her, and she’s not sure if it’s the lack of a condom, or if it’s just her being hyper aware of him in a way she never has been with anyone else before, but she’d swear she can feel his cock throbbing, thickening a little more right before finally sending her over the edge. Making her scream for him as he comes inside of her. Making her squirm and tremble and tense and grip him so tight she must be closing off air supply. But he’s holding her just as tight, weighing her down, keeping her from just floating away as her orgasm crashes through her wave after wave, after wave and he keeps on fucking her all the way through it.

He buries his face in her neck, pressing his lips there as he catches his breath, still gently rocking into her, easing her through the after waves, letting her float in this state of pure bliss. She’s not letting go of him. She might never ever let go again.

‘Don’t move,’ she says, still pulsing around him, milking him for every drop he has left to give. Her voice is raspy from screaming his name. ‘Please, don’t move yet.’

‘Not going anywhere,’ he replies, he moves his hand to the side of her face, caressing her cheek, brushing her hair away. He’s breathless, and trembling just as hard as she is. He takes another minute before lifting his face. ‘That was pretty good, wouldn’t you say?’

Her words get stuck in her throat as she watches him, looking at her with the widest smile. She loves him broody and all serious too, but he really has the best smile she has ever seen on anyone. It just lights up the room.

She has imagined this, fantasized about it, so many times. But it all falls short now she knows the reality of being with him. He just rocked her entire world. She has never ever come so effortlessly during intercourse. She feels like she’ll never come down from the high she’s currently experiencing. But it’s not just about the mind-blowing orgasm. The thing is: she has imagined having sex with him a thousand times. But somehow, she has never pictured him making love to her. That’s what just happened. And she’s an addict now. It’s her wildest fantasy come true, but better. It’s everything.

She knows he feels it, too. And if she tries to put all she’s feeling into words, she will start crying. So instead, she just smiles and says: ‘Well above average, if you ask me.’

‘You throw that top five thing back in my face one more time, and I’ll make you regret it.’

She giggles. ‘Wasn’t going to.’

‘Good.’ His eyes move over her face. ‘Whatever the fuck it was that we just did, I want to do it again right now.’

‘Right now, huh?’ she asks, beaming right back up at him. ‘Gotta love that Bradford-confidence.’

‘Okay, so… maybe more like in five minutes, but we’re doing it again, right?’

‘We are sooooo doing it again,’ she confirms and he grabs her, nuzzling into her neck as he pulls her in tight, rolling over and taking her with him to rest on top of him. She hates to feel him slip out of her, immediately missing the physical connection. But he’s got her all wrapped up in his arms and he kisses her like he’s never planning on stopping. His hand is in her hair, while the other is roaming over her entire body, from her shoulders to the small of her back, palming her ass before sliding back up and starting all over.

‘Can’t believe we’ve waited this long,’ he finally says. ‘You could have told me sooner you’re a rockstar in bed.’

‘You needed to be told?’ she quips. ‘I’m a rockstar everywhere.’

He smiles. And it’s that full blown, wide, happy grin again. ‘True.’

She bites her lip, dropping her gaze to his lips and back up. ‘I didn’t even show you any of my special moves yet.’

‘You didn’t? This was just you… going through the motions?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Well, damn…’ He’s staring at her with that look of wonder he sometimes gets, like she’s throwing him off his game completely. ‘Can’t wait to see you in action, then.’ Both of his hands are gripping her ass now, slowly tracing her curves. ‘I haven’t shown you yet, either. I was too overwhelmed.’

‘Oh, shut up! Tim Bradford doesn’t do overwhelmed.’

‘First time for everything,’ he says dryly. ‘Point is: I’ve still got some tricks up my sleeve to show you, as well. Which means this amazing thing we just did, is only the beginning.’

‘Yeah?’ she asks, trailing her fingers over his chest. ‘You think we can do better?’

‘We always like a good challenge, don’t we?’

‘We never backed out before,’ she agrees.

‘Exactly.’ He grins. ‘So… You wanna find out right now?’

He’s back on top of her before she even knows it.