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hayleythesugarbowl · 2 months ago

Note

hey girlyyyyy could you maybe write for Tim Bradford from the rookie and like the reader is his rookie and while they’re on patrol they run into someone who knows the reader’s abusive ex bf and he makes threats against reader and after their shift reader is super scared so he escorts them home and stays with them idk just an idea 😅

Nightlight || Tim Bradford x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • john nolan fic ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you encounter a man while on patrol who has a threatening message from your ex, your TO, Tim, offers to spend the night with you

word count: 10.4k

warnings: abusive past relationship, reader kind of has a panic attack, mild language, blood, guns, inaccurate police stuff

a/n: ahhh i had so much fun writing this, love!! i took your idea and also added some stuff so i hope you like what i did. i also apologize for the length, i kinda went wild. i imagine this to take place in s1. fem!reader. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“7-Adam-19, armed shoplifter, Radcliffe Complex, 718 Oscar Road. Respond.”

The dispatcher’s voice filled the silence of the car.

“7-Adam-19 responding.” Officer Bradford set down the radio and replaced his hand on the steering wheel.

“What’s the most important thing to remember when dealing with an armed shoplifter, Boot?” Tim asked you after a moment.

“Why did I think that when I was in short-sleeves I would get a break from your Tim Tests?” you muttered.

You’d been Bradford’s rookie for seven months now and some days he still treated you like it was your first day on the force. You appreciated him trying to teach you so thoroughly, but did he have to be so Tim all the time?

“Is that your answer, Boot?”

“No, um, I guess it would be that he’s armed. But no, that’s too obvious for you. Ok, what about what they’re stealing? Their physical state? Keeping their hands in sight at all times?”

Tim sighed, looking bored. “Wrong. It’s—”

“Suspect on the move, heading east on Apple Boulevard,” came the dispatcher’s update, interrupting your TO’s answer.

“Looks like we’re headed east,” Tim said, turning sharply in the direction you’d just come from.

“Saved by the suspect,” you joked.

“Don’t think this is over,” Tim narrowed his eyes at the road. “Lessons don’t stop for crime.”

“Ok, batman.”

Tim glared at you.

“I mean, Sir.”

After you’d first been assigned to Officer Bradford, you’d been told stories of his ruthless training style. Your first thought was that you needed to impress him from day one.

Well, technically your first thought was damn, because you’d have to be insane not to notice how objectively attractive he was. But you’d quickly quelled that thought—crushing on your TO was not how you wanted to start your career as an officer.

So, impressing him was your second thought. And you had been more than a little terrified of not impressing him.

You would be lying if you said that wasn’t how things still were between you two, to a degree—you trying to prove yourself and him making it as difficult as possible.

But, at least after several months, you felt like your TO trusted you more.

“There!” You pointed to a man running down the street, duffel bag in hand.

Tim hit the gas, surpassing the suspect, and skidding to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting him off.

You both hurried out of the car, weapons drawn on the man who was currently aiming his gun back and forth, between you and Bradford.

“Police! Drop your weapon!” Tim shouted at the man.

The man hesitated, seeming to be weighing his options—how easily he could take out two cops.

“Set the weapon down, nice and easy,” Tim ordered, his own gun still pointed at the suspect.”

The man, seeming to sense the inevitability of his capture, sighed and set his gun on the ground.

“The answer was dialogue, by the way,” Tim addressed you, his eyes still on the suspect. “Dialogue is the most important thing when dealing with an armed suspect.”

“Good to know,” you acknowledged, before ordering the man in front of you. “Hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”

The man’s gaze shot to you as he obeyed your commands.

“Hey, lady cop, you look familiar,” the criminal squinted at you.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said. You’d never seen this man in your life.

“I swear—”

“Hands on the car!” You ordered

The man reluctantly did what he was told, placing his palms on the side of the shop.

“Wait a minute,” the man sized you up before smirking slowly. “Your Paul Cranston’s girl, ain’t ya?”

You felt your blood instantly run cold at the name.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said again, robotically, grabbing one of his arms.

“No, no I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere,” the criminal whispered. “He told me all about you. Hey, why don’t you let me go and I’ll give you a friendly tip?”

You responded by twisting his arm behind his back even harder.

He winced. “So you didn’t hear then? Paul’s out.”

No. That couldn’t be true. Paul wasn’t supposed to be out for—

“Boot, you going to cuff him or not?” Tim called impatiently.

“Right.” You shook off the stupor and began handcuffing the suspect. Your mind was still on that name, however, and your reflexes were slowed.

Which is how the suspect was able to rip his arm from your grip and shove you to the ground as he tried to make a break for it.

Tim tackled him almost immediately, wrestling him into the cuffs that were dangling on one of his wrists where you had started to restrain him, and pushing him towards the shop.

“Wait, Paul’s got a message for you!” the man hurried out, looking only at you as Tim waked over and shoved him into the backseat. “He said you best watch yourself, because he has connections, and he still hasn’t gotten his revenge. He’s out—and he’s coming for you.”

“That’s enough, get in the car.” Tim slammed the door shut, and the echo of it rang in your ears as the man’s words played over and over again.

He’s out, and he’s coming for you.

“What the hell was that?”

You looked up to Bradford’s questioning—and furious—face. He offered you a hand and you took it, standing up to face him.

“Sorry, I—”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t stop criminals from escaping,” Tim shouted. “Get your head in the game. You do want to be a cop, don’t you, Boot?”

“Yes, sir.”

So much for Tim trusting you. You couldn’t believe you’d almost just let a suspect get away. That had never happened to you before. But, that name—

Your TO shook his head, walking to the drivers side and opening the door. “You know, I should write you up for that.”

You noticed his wording. “But you’re not going to?”

He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before saying,

“I didn’t say that. First you’re going to tell me what just happened between you two.”

You flinched. “It—nothing. It was nothing.”

“Uh-huh. It didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s Paul Cranston?”

You swallowed hard. “He’s just someone I used to know.”

A million images flashed through your head. Paul’s face looming over you. The flashing lights and sirens. Waking up in the hospital.

You shook yourself out of it. You didn’t want to talk about this now. You swore you’d never talk about it again. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we get back to the station. Don’t we have to book this guy?”

Tim sighed, started the car, and re-entered traffic. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-19. I need an ID on a Paul Cranston,” Tim spoke into his radio.

And so much for not talking about this now.

“Can you do that without suspicion of a crime?” You asked him.

“You can when dispatch loves you.” He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes at him as the radio began speaking.

“Paul Cranston: caucasian male, date of birth 8/4/92, recently released on parole, history of theft and domestic violence.”

Tim turned his gaze to you. “How do you know this man, Boot?”

“It’s—a long story,” you told him.

“Well then you better start talking if you want to finish before we reach the station,” Tim commanded, making a left turn.

“Can’t you just let it go?” You asked him. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

He’s out, and he’s coming for you.

You couldn’t fight the shiver that racked your body.

Tim’s eyes flicked to you, before returning back to the road. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, shifting the car into park before turning to you.

“If this is another one of your ‘I’m dying, where are we’ tests—”

“Boot, focus,” Tim barked.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s really any of your concern if—”

“Of course it’s my concern!” Tim shouted. His expression was so intense, you squirmed under his gaze and you felt your face heat.

He looked torn for a moment, before sighing and saying, “It’s my job as your TO to train you to the best of my abilities, and I can’t do that if you’re withholding information that may affect your performance as an officer.”

“Fine,” you breathed. “It was a long time ago. I was 18, Paul and I met freshman year of college. We started dating and things were fine, good even, for a while.”

“Until?” Tim prompted.

“Until he got pissed one night because I caught him coming home really late with a ski mask and a bag full of stolen cash. Cliche, right?”

You looked to Tim, but his expression was as stony as ever and you continued.

“Apparently, he’d been stealing since high school and turns out he’d lied to me about working in retail and a whole bunch of other stuff. I threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop and—”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

You watched the houses and trees and cars pass by as you drove towards the station.

“—and he hit me. It didn't stop after that—once he knew he could get away with it. He said if I ever told anyone—about the robberies, the beatings—that he’d kill me. And I let him go on like that for months. I was so scared that if I called anyone, he’d make good on his promise.”

Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his fingers turning white, but he didn’t speak.

“But then, one night, it got so bad that I thought he might actually kill me anyway. So I waited until he left the room for a minute and I called 911. He was arrested and—and that’s all I remember before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next morning.”

You kept your voice even, trying not to let the emotion show through your story. You were just recounting facts. This was almost 10 years ago, and you’d moved on with your life.

But reliving it all was hard, even after so much time had passed.

“It’s actually why I joined the academy,” you finished. “I wanted to save people, the way the officers that night did for me.”

You were both silent for a moment.

A muscle in Tim’s jaw ticked. “Does the department know?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s all part of my file.”

“And the guy back there?”

You shrugged, glancing back at the suspect and lowering your voice. “He must be one of Paul’s partners or goons or—I don’t know. I guess he’s been in contact with him since he was released, if he knows what I look like.”

The thought made your skin crawl.

“I don’t know what came over me,” you kept going. “It’s been years, I just—I didn’t expect to hear about him out of the blue from a criminal on the street, you know? But, I promise it won’t happen again.”

Tim ignored that. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I sure as hell hope so.”

Bradford was silent for a long moment, his expression tense.

The radio crackled to life. “7-Adam-19, we have a 215 in progress near your area, 239 West Armston Street. Respond.”

“Negative,” Bradford answered the dispatch call.

You stared at him, shocked. “Why aren’t we taking that? We can drop this guy off afterwards.”

“Yeah, I agree,” the suspect chimed in from the backseat. “I think you should take that first.”

Tim payed him no attention. “They’ll have someone else over there in minutes. We have more important things to do.”

“You’re not even going to ask me if I know what a 215 is?” You joked. Tim never passed up an opportunity to quiz you.

“What’s a 215, Boot?”

“Carjacking.”

“Correct.” Tim nodded. “And we’re going to have a talk with Sergeant Grey.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

“Paul Cranston, released on parole from a thirteen year sentence three days ago, currently believed to be residing in the Woodland Hills area.”

You sat in the briefing room, surrounded by other officers, as Sergeant Grey read out your ex-boyfriend’s file. You stared into Paul’s face on the screen, his mugshot visible from all angles.

Bradford stood near the front of the room, leaning against the wall.

“The department is aware of Officer (Y/l/n)’s history with Mr. Cranston,” Grey continued. “And will take necessary action should the situation progress.”

“So, what’s the course of action here?” Tim crossed his arms.

“I’m afraid, as of now, there isn’t one,” Grey said. “Since there is no direct proof against Paul Cranston, we’d essentially be taking the word of a petty thief and wasting resources on what most likely was a desperate attempt to escape arrest. The department doesn’t exactly consider it a threat.”

“Doesn’t consider it a threat?” Tim’s voice was low and dangerous. “How about a charge for threatening an officer?”

“But Paul didn’t threaten an officer,” you sighed, thinking. “The armed robbery suspect did.”

“Exactly, Officer (Y/l/n),” Grey agreed. “Basically, our hands are tied.”

“Then untie them,” Bradford snapped, beginning to pace. “There’s gotta be some technicality we can get him on. Violation of parole, conspiring with a felon, failure to—”

“That’s enough, Officer Bradford,” The sergeant fixed your TO with a firm look. “I appreciate your concern for (Y/l/n)’s safety, but we’ve done all we can do. And, for now, that’s nothing.”

Tim’s concern for your safety. That thought had been in the back of your mind since the ride to the station. You couldn’t figure out why Tim was so determined about this. You supposed you were his rookie and was his job to look out for you. It was just, up until now, he hadn’t exactly done anything to make you believe he’d care so much.

“Failure to take action could be endangering one of our officers,” Tim said, his jaw clenched. “Who’s to say this guy won’t make good on his threat? At least increase security at (Y/l/n)’s residence.”

“Tim, its fine,” you said, your voice firm. “Let it go.”

They were making a big enough deal about this already. It probably was just a case of a criminal trying anything to get free. You doubted Paul even cared about what happened to you anymore. He probably never wanted to see you again—and that was a good thing.

But, then, you couldn’t get those words out of your head.

He’s out and he’s coming for you.

Bradford turned to you, his chest rising and falling. He looked so…resolved. Like he did when chasing down a suspect or that time when you’d walked in on him in the training rooms.

Images of Tim shirtless, the muscles in his back tight as he pushed himself harder filled your head and you quickly shook them away. Definitely not the time.

“We’ll send a surveillance team to Paul’s location in the morning,” Grey said, turning to address you. “But for now the best thing you can do is to go home, get some sleep, and not let this rattle you. Understood?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Good. Because the last thing the L.A.P.D needs is a cop who lets their personal life get in the way of their ability to do their job in any way that’s less than exemplary. I trust that’s not the case?”

You glanced to Bradford, certain he was going to mention your mistake with the suspect earlier.

“No, Sir,” Tim said instead. “My rookies don’t do ‘less than exemplary’. Don’t worry about (Y/l/n)—she’s proved to me she has what it takes to be an officer.”

“Glad to hear it. Shift over. Everybody else, back to work,” Sergeant Grey waved everyone away.

You walked towards the front of the room, hearing grumbled complaints about midnight shift from the unlucky officers who still had to do patrol as you did so.

You stopped in front of your TO. His eyes were on you, his brow drawn in something that looked like concern.

“Thanks,” you said. You couldn’t believe he’d told Grey all that—it was the most complimentary thing he’d said about you in your whole time riding with him.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tim stated, shrugging. “I expect you to live up to any praise I’ve given you.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, almost smiling.

“Besides, you’re being trained by me. You’d have to be royally screwed up not to become one of the best on the force.”

“And he’s humble too,” you teased. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Whatever, Boot.” Tim smiled, shaking his head.

“Be nonchalant all you want,” you said, feeling brave. “I know you like me.”

For a brief moment, Tim looked like you’d slapped him. But then, the flash of—whatever that was—was gone and his expression was replaced by one of cold indifference.

“In your TO not your friend, (Y/l/n),” he stated. “It’s not about liking you. It’s about training you.”

You sighed inwardly. Just when you thought you were making ground with Tim, he treated you like you’d just met. “Of course, how could I forget.”

Tim stayed silent.

“Well, I should head out,” you told him, “I’ve got a busy night ahead me. You know, trying not to get killed by my ex and all.”

You’d meant it as a joke, to make light of the situation that left you feeling more uneasy than you’d care to admit. Tim, however, just shook his head and brushed past you, out of the briefing room.

You stood there for a moment, trying to work through what had just happened, before turning around and taking a step in the other direction. Only to find Officers Lopez and Bishop standing in front of you, staring between you and Tim’s retreating figure.

“So how’d you do it?” Bishop looked you up and down.

“Do what?” You asked, confused.

“Get Tim wrapped around your finger,” Lopez answered for her, smirking.

You felt your eyes widen. “Tim’s not—”

“Please,” Lopez put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched him train dozens of rookies and he’s never stood up for any of them like that. So naturally I figured you’re either blackmailing him or sleeping with him.”

You blanched, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you let what Angela said sink in. You knew she was just teasing you, but the statement caught you off guard. You imagined you and Tim—together. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant thought. And then you realized what you were thinking and you chided yourself, hurriedly un-imagining it.

“No, that’s not—neither one of those things,” you answered quickly. “Trust me, Tim doesn’t give me any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. I actually can’t tell if he hates me half of the time.”

“We’re not implying anything,” Bishop replied. “Only observing. And he doesn’t hate you.”

“How can you possibly know that?” You were suddenly insecure. You still held on to a secret dread that you were going to wildly disappoint Tim—that you already had. Sure, there was all the stuff he had just said. But there was also months of him being hard on you and saying that you weren’t friends.

“Because I’ve seen him hate plenty of people,” Bishop spoke. “And he definitely didn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”

The way Tim looked at you? You weren’t aware he looked at you in a way that was different from the way he looked at anyone else at the station.

“What are you guys trying to say?” You asked them.

“I’m saying watch out,” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Because Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.”

Could there be any truth to what the two officers were saying? Was it wrong for a small part of you to hope there was?

“Um, ok,” you said, blinking. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

“Don’t believe us if you want, it’s your call,” Bishop shrugged, backing up. “But I’m telling you, you mean something to Tim that the rest of us can only guess at.”

And with that she walked out of the room.

“Bishop can be intense,” Angela said when the woman was out of earshot. “She’s got that whole ‘anti-cops-dating’ thing going on—but I do think she’s right about this. Tim’s tough, and I’m sure he gives you hell—but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. I actually think it’s quite the opposite. ”

Was there really something that everyone saw between you and Tim except for you? You still couldn’t even entertain the thought that Tim had feelings for you that were more than TO and rookie.

“Well you’ve certainly left me with a lot to think about,” you said finally.

“Then I’ll let you start thinking—you’re welcome for the peace of mind.”

You wouldn’t have used the phrase peace of mind, yourself. Sure, it was nice to know that the officers who had known your TO for years were confident that he didn’t look down on you. But, this conversation also had left your head swimming with conflicting thoughts about Tim that you didn’t feel like dealing with right now.

“And take care,” Lopez said knowingly. “We have your back if anything happens.”

With that, your thoughts slammed back to the current situation.

“Right, that. You—you think something’s going to happen?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

“I think in this job we have to be prepared for the worst,” she corrected. “But I also think that bastard would have to be pretty stupid to mess with you.”

She smiled at you and you smiled back. After watching her leave, you followed her path, heading towards the locker rooms.

You thought about what she had said about you and Tim, about Paul.

You hoped she was right—you just couldn’t say which you hoped she was more right about.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Your thoughts bounced between your conversation with Talia and Angela and the message from your ex as you walked to your car minutes later.

When you woke up this morning, you thought the most stressful part of your day would’ve been a police chase or a shootout. You never would’ve expected it to be my ex-boyfriend is out of jail and could be hunting me down and my training officer might have feelings for me.

Funny how things could change so fast.

Suddenly, you heard a bang. You spun around quickly, your heart in your throat. But it was only a car door being slammed shut from across the parking lot.

Get a grip, you told yourself.

You rounded the corner, running a hand through your hair.

You stopped. Tim was leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked you up and down.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Driving you home, Boot,” Tim said. “Get in the car.”

“Tim, you don’t have to—”

“That wasn’t a question, give me the keys.”

There was no point in fighting him. Besides, there was a small part of you that didn’t really want to fight him.

You tossed him the keys to your car and got in the passenger seat with a sigh.

Tim started the engine.

“If this is about Paul, this really isn’t necessary,” you said after you’d been driving for several minutes and the silence became too much. “I can handle myself. I am an officer, in case you forgot.”

“You’re a rookie,” Tim corrected, eyes never leaving the road. “And if the department won’t do anything, then I will.”

“What—we’re not going to go looking for him, are we?” You asked.

“Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “I’m not a vigilante, Boot. Where do you live?”

“Take a left at the light,” you guided.

Neither of you talked for the remainder of the drive, save your occasional directions. When you pointed out your apartment building, Tim parked the car and handed you the keys.

“Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you got out of the car, grabbing your bag and heading towards the building.

You heard a door shut behind you and turned to find your TO standing on the sidewalk, an eyebrow raised.

“You didn’t think I was just going to let you spend the night alone with a target on your head, did you, Boot?”

“Tim—”

“No more protests,” he said firmly. “As your TO, I—”

“No, I was just going to say that if you were planning on staying here, why couldn’t I have just driven my own car?”

“I don’t let my rookies drive,” Tim walked past you and to the front door. “Even off-duty.”

You followed him quickly, getting out your key and letting you both in.

When you reached your apartment you did a quick scan of the space—it wasn’t exactly like you’d been expecting company, much less your training officer. You cringed at the messiness.

“How many entrances and exits are there?” Bradford asked.

“Um, just the front door. And there’s windows in the kitchen and the bedroom,” you said.

You skimmed past everything in the place, looking towards the window in your bedroom. Your eye caught on one of your bras hanging from your bedpost. You quickly ran over and shut the door, blushing and hoping Tim hadn’t noticed.

“Please, Boot,” Tim made a face. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before.”

“Ok no offense, but I usually don’t let guys see my bra the first time I bring them to my place,” you joked.

“If that’s an offer, I’m going to have to politely decline.”

“What—no,” you hurried out, worried your voice sounded wrong. “I just meant—”

Tim interrupted. “I’m going to do a sweep of the place, make sure everything’s as it should be.”

“Is that really needed?”

“I’m not taking any chances.” He left the room and you sunk down onto the couch, letting your bag fall to the floor.

Your TO returned a few minutes later. “All clear.”

“See, everything’s fine,” you said, speaking just as much to yourself as you were to Tim.

“Well,” Bradford started, amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say everything is fine. Your storage closet’s a fire hazard.”

Had Tim Bradford just made a joke?

“I’ll be sure not to exit through the closet in the events of a fire,” you said sarcastically. “And if you keep insulting my living space, I’m going to be forced to kick you out.”

“Bold for someone whose career I could end.”

“You can’t end my career for that,” you shot back. Paused. “Can you?”

Tim raised his eyebrows.

“Only one way to find out,” you said enthusiastically, teasing him now. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let the closet trap you on the way out.

“Nice try, Boot. But you’re still stuck with me for,” Tim checked his watch. “eight hours.”

“Nine hours,” you corrected. You had to leave for work in nine hours.

“You’re right, I should get us drinks,” Tim joked.

You rolled you eyes and he shot you a look. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”

Tim got up, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Is all you own ginger ale, Boot?” He called.

“There’s six year old tequila in the cupboard,” you suggested.

“Ginger ale it is.”

Tim joined you in the living room again, carrying two bottles. He handed one to you, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch.

You noted the careful distance he put between you.

“What’s this thing made of, Boot? Plywood?” Tim asked, inspecting the couch.

You smothered a laugh.

“Get comfortable. It’s where you’re sleeping,” you answered.

“Won’t be necessary. If you’re not awake you’re not aware.”

“So, what, we’re taking shifts on guard like this is a stakeout?” You asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t come here to sleep.”

“Tim I can’t let you stay up all night while I’m unconscious.” you sighed.

“You can if it’s an order. Besides, no offense, but rookies are historically less vigilant and have a slower response time…”

You tried not to take offense at that. “Right, Eagle Eye.”

Tim glared at you.

“Angela told me.”

“Of course she did. And at least I didn’t leave valuable evidence on the street to chase after a dog wearing a top hat.”

“Sparky could’ve been involved in the crime,” you said, indignant. “And that was one time!”

“One time too many,” Tim mumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes sparkling.

“Ok, so when you were a rookie you were, what, perfect?” You shot back.

“Damn straight.” Tim nodded.

“You made no mistakes, at all?” You prompted.

“Well,” Tim took a sip of his drink. “There was one thing.”

“Aside from the graffiti incident?”

“That wasn’t a mistake because it wasn’t my fault. I was following direct orders and—you know what, never mind. If you don’t want to hear it—”

“No, no, I do!” you scooted towards the edge of your seat in anticipation. “And none of that ‘I worked too hard and too efficiently’ crap.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically. “My first week on the job I was put on paperwork duty, which was—”

“Boring and tedious? I can imagine,” you deadpanned, having been put in charge of paperwork by Tim many times.

“I was going to say necessary and a valuable skill to have,” Bradford corrected. “But anyways, we had just got done booking a couple suspects and I was working on the reports. A triple homicide and a prostitution case. It was a long day and I was tired and I guess I got sloppy—”

“You? Sloppy?” You interrupted.

“Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”

“Right, sorry. Continue.”

Tim did. “I’d just finished tagging the evidence for both cases and when I was filling everything out I somehow got the numbers mixed up. Long story short, according to my report, the homicide gun ended up being linked to the prostitution case and the weapon allegedly used in the triple homicide was…a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you now.

“Forensics caught it before it was sent to the judge, thank god,” Bradford sighed. “But the next day when I was getting ready for my shift, I was greeted by dozens of similar handcuffs in my locker—apparently Smitty has a guy.”

“Tell me you kept them,” you begged, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Of course not!”

Tim blinked.

“Well, not all of them—Isabel made me take a pair home. I found out later that she was the one who orchestrated the whole prank. She used to do stuff like that all the time before she, uh,—”

“Tim—”

You’d heard about Bradford’s ex-wife. How she’d become an addict, gotten herself mixed up with bad people. You knew how much it had affected Tim, even if he hadn’t said so.

She was in rehab now, getting her life back together. You were glad she was finally getting the help she needed. Still, you knew how much she meant to Tim. How much it had hurt him to move on from her and let her start a new life without him.

“I’m fine.” Tim said firmly, clearing his throat. “It’s good to talk about her…before. She’s on the right path now.”

You stared at the ground in front of you, picking at your fingernails.

“Are you still in love with her?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You didn’t know why you asked—didn’t know why you cared what the answer was. Ten minutes ago you wouldn’t have even dared to ask that question.

But he was being so uncharacteristically open and you seemed to be getting along well. You reluctantly brought your eyes up to Tim.

His eyes had gone wide. He looked like he wanted to leave or yell at you or both, and you immediately regretted it.

But then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth. “No. I’ll always care about her and she’ll always be someone that I did love. But relationships change—people change.”

You nodded. “I get it—I mean, I’m kind of rusty on relationships—but I get it. I actually haven’t dated anyone since Paul. I guess it was just hard to trust someone after that. I kind of sabotaged any relationship that had any chance of starting.”

It was the first time you’d admitted that to anyone. You wouldn’t have pegged Tim as being so easy to talk to. You had almost forgotten about the whole Paul situation before you’d just brought him up. You had been enjoying hanging out with Tim, no matter the circumstances. He was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn’t on the clock.

You imagined this happening more often—you and Tim, not just coworkers but friends. Maybe even more. Maybe this was one relationship you didn’t have to end before it started.

You dared to let yourself think about it. You watched Tim process your words. Saw the emotion clearly written in his face as he looked at you intensely.

“Hey, thanks again for not letting me be alone tonight,” you told him, you’re voice soft.

“Don’t take it personally, Boot,” he said. “My house is being repainted and even your place beats breathing in paint fumes all night.”

“I’m honored,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But you have to admit this has been fun—hanging out.”

Your little impromptu sleepover. You smiled.

Tim, however, looked like a switch had been flipped inside of him. You watched as he clenched his jaw, leaning almost imperceptibly away from you

“Listen, Boot—”

He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and a loud thumping sound.

You both shot up off the couch, abandoning your drinks. Tim’s hand went to his gun. You did the same.

Tim turned to you. “Stay here.”

“Like hell,” you shot back, following him as he started to do a sweep of the main room.

If that sound was someone—Paul—breaking in, you weren’t going to sit here and let Bradford fight your battles for you.

He signaled to let you know he was moving to the kitchen. You nodded, following.

“Clear,” he muttered, and moved on towards the bathroom. You were right behind him when you heard another noise, like the muffled sound of scraping of furniture, and you spun around.

The bedroom. It was the only room in that direction that you hadn’t checked yet.

You glanced to Tim, but he hadn’t heard it. He was a few feet ahead of you, just now entering the bathroom.

You slowly stepped away from him and made your way across the apartment, down the hall and over to the closed bedroom door.

Holding your weapon in one hand, you opened the door with the other. But, you barely had time to see what was on the other side before you were grabbed and a cloth was shoved into your mouth.

Your gun was ripped from your hand, and you were pushed hard onto the ground. Your wrist burned where you landed on shards of glass from the broken window

Something smacked into the back of your head and you were dragged and thrown onto the bed on the corner. You heard the door shut.

Squinting up into the light, rubbing your throbbing head, your heart dropped as you saw who was in front of you.

“Did you miss me?” Paul sneered, spinning your gun in his hand.

You froze. Everything crashed into you at once. The events of the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend sped through your mind. Suddenly, you were scared and 18 again, at the mercy of this man.

“I guess you got my man’s message,” Paul continued. “Because you don’t exactly look shocked to see me. Scared, of course, but not shocked.”

Coming back to yourself, you scrambled up onto your knees, ready to knock him out.

Paul shook his head, laughing. “No, no. If you move even an inch I’ll shoot you right in the forehead.”

You sat back down, your heart thumping in your chest as you scanned the room for a way out. Some way to get the upper hand on him. You had been trained for this.

“Listen to me,” he continued, his hand coming to the gag in your mouth. You flinched away from him. “I know there’s someone in here with you. If you try to scream to alert them, I will also shoot you. I’d like to play with you first before I put a bullet in your brain but, hey, I’m not picky. Is that clear?”

You nodded, trying to measure how fast you could knock the weapon out of his hand before he could take a shot at you. Paul took the cloth out of you mouth.

You gasped in air. “Backup’s going to be in here any second and then you’re going back to prison.”

Tim would notice you were gone. He had to.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Paul smiled. “I’ll be long gone and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”

You glanced towards the door. What was taking him so long?

Suddenly, Paul reached forwards and gripped your face in his hand. “Just as beautiful as I remember. It was such a shame things had to end with us as they did. How did that happen again? Oh, that’s right. You betrayed me.”

“And that was the best decision I ever made,” you spat.

Paul backed up, shaking his head. “You’ve gotten feistier, baby. It’ll make this so much more fun for me.”

He stepped back towards you, his face inches from yours, sneering. “This’ll be just like old times.”

Bam! The door to your bedroom busted open. Bradford rushed in, taking in the situation. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Get down on the ground!” Tim growled.

Paul froze for only a second, fear flashing across his face, but it was enough. You lunged, wrestling the gun out of his hands, your wrist protesting.

You trained it on him. Paul was surrounded.

“You have five seconds to get on the ground before I shoot you,” Tim bit out, his expression murderous.

“Come on, baby, you’re not going to let Officer Buzzkill treat me like that, are you?” Paul appealed to you.

You leveled your gaze on him, ignoring his words. “You heard him. Get on the ground.”

Paul slowly knelt, never taking his eyes off of you. Tim charged him, pulling out handcuffs and locking them around his wrists.

You took a moment to be amused—of course Tim had off-duty cuffs.

“So this ends the way it starts, huh?” Paul shook his head. “You getting me locked up?”

“Just like old times,” you echoed his earlier statement. You stayed stoic, putting your hands on your hips to hide the way they shook.

Anger sparked in Paul’s eyes before he took on a smug expression. “You’re right. You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Don’t listen to him, Boot,” Tim warned hauling the man up off the ground.

“You know I’m right,” Paul’s manic eyes bore into yours. He was enjoying every moment of this, laughter in his tone. It took all that was in you to keep your expression blank, unaffected. “You’ll always be that person I knew—the person who loved me. Because you did—love me. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You just took it all like the victim you are. You pathetic bitch—”

He was cut off abruptly as Tim slammed him face-first against the wall. Paul cried out.

“That’s enough!” Tim shouted. “If you ever threaten—no, if you even look at (Y/l/n) again, I will hunt you down and personally remove every external limb from your body, do you understand me? (Y/n) is a million times the person you will ever be and you don’t get to make her feel small. If I didn’t think sitting in a cell for the rest of your life was a worse fate, I’d kill you right now—screw the department.”

Your ears were ringing, your head dizzy as you tried to ground yourself. Your voice came out tiny. “Tim, stop.”

Bradford turned to you, almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched around the man in custody.

“And she’s not a victim,” Tim whispered, turning back to Paul, his voice right by his ear. “She’s a survivor.”

With that, he shoved Paul back to the ground and moved over to you, his eyes roaming over your face. Your body. He took the gun out of your hands, setting it on the desk. Then, he gripped your injured wrist and you winced as he inspected it.

“Probably hurts like hell, but you won’t need stitches. Any other injuries?”

“Um, he hit me in the back of the head,” you felt your scalp, a lump already forming.

Tim’s hands moved to your hair, his touch gentle, his breath on your cheek as he leaned to get a better look.

Your own breath caught, your heart racing at the intimacy of your position.

“What’s the damage?” You almost whispered.

Tim’s eyes met yours, the heat of his stare spreading through your body. “You’ll have a nasty bruise, but there’s no external bleeding.”

Tim stepped back, and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.

“Are you—are you ok, Boot?” He asked carefully.

How did you even answer that question? You were still in shock, unable to process what had just happened.

“I will be,” you settled on, breathing in slowly. Exhaling.

Tim looked like he wanted to say more but he clenched his jaw, glancing in the direction of Paul, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he had finally accepted his defeat.

“I’m going to call for back up, you go clean that up,” Tim gestured to the blood covering your wrist where you had landed in the broken glass. “You need help?”

“No, I got it,” You nodded, walking towards the bathroom as you heard Tim make the call.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“This is off-duty officer Tim Bradford, badge 34831. I need a unit to my location for a 126. Suspect in custody. Code 4.”

Tim’s voice faded as you made your way down the hall, shutting the bathroom door after you to access the medicine cabinet behind it.

You took out the necessary supplies and began cleaning the wound. You stopped in front of the sink, letting your burning eyes close for a moment, massaging your temples.

Now that you were alone, you let yourself collapse, bracing your hands against the counter

Images flooded your senses.

The gag. Paul hitting you from behind. You, young and frightened, huddled on the ground. That gleam in his eyes.

Your eyes snapped open, your breath coming out fast.

He’s in custody. You told yourself. He can’t hurt you anymore.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, your hands still shaking as you brushed your hair back from your face. Was it hot in here or was it just you?

Turning your attention back to your wrist, you took a deep breath and continued to dab at the wound.

You reached for the bandages on the counter. A sheen of sweat broke out on your forehead as you wrapped your arm.

You pictured Paul’s grip on you. His words rang in your ears.

You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.

The room tilted. You swayed on your feet so you sunk down to the ground, leaning your head against the cabinet, the cool wood pressing against your head.

You tried to slow your erratic breathing but you couldn’t. You couldn’t—

The sound of footsteps and voices carried through the door. You were vaguely aware that it was probably the backup here to take Paul away.

You closed your eyes, your throat tight, you pulse thundering in your ears.

I’m ok, you tried to tell yourself. I’m ok. I’m ok.

You were unaware how long you sat like this. You had no concept of time. Your thoughts were wild, images flashing in and out, unable to form conscious ideas. Every breath sending a sharp pain through your body.

“Boot?”

The muffled voice was closer than the others had been.

“Boot?” The voice was louder now. You registered Tim at the door. He knocked once. Twice.

“Boot, I’m coming in,” he shouted, his voice laced with worry. The door was shoved open.

“Dammit,” he cursed, seeing your state. You felt him getting closer to you, but you didn’t look up as he knelt by you, his concerned expression taking in yours.

“Hey, look at me,” Tim coaxed. “(Y/l/n), breathe.”

He seemed miles and miles away. There was a pause.

“Hey, Boot, I got another test for you,” he spoke quickly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I want you to tell me the most annoying person we work with.”

“What?” You rasped, barely hearing him.

“Bishop’s an easy target,” he said. “And Lopez is a slob, so you can’t go wrong there. West’s got the whole daddy issues thing. Don’t even get me started on Nolan—”

You swallowed hard, your mouth feeling dry.

“And then there’s me. I mean, I’m annoying right?”

You breathed a shaky laugh, opening your eyes slowly.

Tim smiled. “Oh so you agree? It’s ok, Boot, you can say me. Go ahead, I can take it.”

When you didn’t say anything, Tim kept talking. “Personally I’d go for Detective Coleman. The man makes double what I do and I’m convinced he doesn’t own a decent looking tie.”

“L-like the—the green one from last week,” you managed, trying to slow your breathing.

“Leprechauns would call it tacky,” Tim agreed. “Now, since we’ve discussed this from all angles I’m going to need you to choose wisely. Because this is going to go on your evaluation for today.”

You gulped. “Are—are you going to get me fired if I say you?”

Tim let out a quiet, relieved laugh. “I knew it. Guess who’s going back to long-sleeves on Monday?”

“In this heat wave? You—you wouldn’t dare,” you joked, sniffing.

“I don’t know, I am the most annoying person you work with—sounds like something I might do.”

You laughed again, this time the sound coming out less strained. You focused on taking deep breaths, feeling your heart rate return to normal.

“There you go.” Tim stood up, offering his hand to you for the second time that day. You gripped his arm as he pulled you up onto shaky legs.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed to have had your TO see you like this now that your head was clearer.

“For what, doing my job?”

You smiled weakly at him, running a hand along your forehead. “Sorry for um—”

“Having a normal reaction to a highly emotional situation? Don’t apologize for being human,” Tim said firmly, his forehead creased.

“So, he’s gone?” You’re voice came out small.

Tim’s expression softened. “He’s gone.”

You nodded again, looking at the floor. Tim sighed, reaching an arm out. “Come here.”

You took a step towards him and then you were in his arms, his embrace strengthening you as he rubbed your back. You stood there like that, not wanting this to end. Not wanting to put distance between you again. Finally, he pulled back and looked down at you, his gaze weighted, before taking a few steps towards the door. You looked over Tim’s shoulder.

“Hey, (Y/n), look at me.” Tim said. You brought your gaze up to meet his. “He is never going to hurt you again, ok? I’ll make sure of that.”

You let your eyes fall closed, feeling ashamed that you had been so affected. That Tim had to handle all of this for you. “I know. And I’ll understand if after…all this, you don’t see me fit to—to be a police officer anymore.”

Tim’s eyes hardened, his voice hardening with them. “With all do respect, Boot, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I meant every word of what I said back there—you’re a survivor. All I saw tonight is that you are a brave and intelligent woman who just so happens to have a scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Don’t let it define you because then he wins. You’re a great cop, (Y/l/n). It’s rookies like you who make the force as strong as it is.”

You listened to Tim speak. He sounded so…passionate. Bishop’s words came back to you.

Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.

You desperately wanted that to be true, now more than ever. He’d been so kind to you in this past hour—staying with you, rescuing you, reassuring you, bringing you back from whatever dark place you had just been in.

And then this. Talking about you like he…like he really cared about you. And maybe it was just because he felt like as your training officer he had to protect you. But in the moment, it felt like maybe it could be more than that.

“So what I’m hearing is, I’m getting a promotion?” You teased finally, brushing your hair back from your damp face, breaking the silence.

Bradford put up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you still have a lot to learn from me.”

You sighed. This was normal, this was comfortable. How you and Tim always acted with each other. You were both relieved and disappointed at the change back into familiar territory.

You ran a hand through your hair, stifling a yawn. Saying today had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century.

“Now come on,” Tim flicked his head in the direction of the door. “It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Let me guess, nine p.m. sharp every night?” You teased.

“That’s not true.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nine-thirty,” he admitted.

You giggled, following Tim out of the bathroom and into the hallway which led to the living room.

You glanced at your bedroom as you passed it, trying not to think about what had happened in there. It was over now, you told yourself.

“Since my room is kind of a crime scene, I guess we’re both crashing out here,” you sighed, gesturing to the couch.

Silence filled the room and you immediately realized your mistake, cheeks flaming.

“Or, right, I guess you can go now. Danger’s over.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim said. “And get to bed even later? I’m not going anywhere.”

You stepped into the living room. You were glad Tim was staying. You felt safer with him here, even though you knew it was irrational.

“I’ll get the blankets and stuff,” you said, turning back the way you’d came.

“Let me go with you,” Tim offered.

“I would but they’re in the closet and I don’t want it to trap you or something,” you said.

“You think I can’t take a closet full of your crap? Bring it on,” Tim challenged and you led him down the hall.

A few minutes later you returned to the living room, blankets and pillows in tow. Tim helped you pull out the couch bed—you were grateful you’d opted for this couch instead of a regular one—and you stood back, admiring your work.

“Take the couch,” you told him. “It was your bed originally.”

“Not gonna happen.” Tim crossed his arms. “It’s your house. And you’re injured.”

“I’m fine. And where are you going to sleep? The floor?” You asked him.

Tim scanned the room and then sat down on the chair across from the couch-turned-bed.

“Are you sure you’re ok on that?” You asked. It didn’t exactly look comfortable for spending hours on.

“Trust me, Boot, you got the short end of the stick. Have fun sleeping on plywood.”

You smiled. “So, what, you’re just going to sit over there and watch me sleep?”

“I can leave, if you’re—”

“No,” you’re voice came out faster and more sharp than you’d intended. “I mean, you came all this way, I don’t want you to have to get an Uber home at this hour.”

You climbed into bed, aware that you were still in your clothes, but not caring enough to change.

“We should get some sleep, it’s been a long night,” Tim sighed. He got up and turned the lights off, darkness filling the room.

“Damn, boot,” you heard Tim’s voice even though you couldn’t see him anymore. “It’s pitch black in here. You don’t sleep with a light or anything?”

“Well I don’t usually sleep in my living room,” you pointed out. Then you stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute. Is Officer Tim Bradford afraid of the dark?”

Tim scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you teased.

“There is no secret,” Tim shot back.

You winked. “Exactly.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Thank you.” You smiled.

The room fell silent. You heard him sit back down.

You laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by.

“Do you—do you think he really would’ve shot me?” You asked, finally.

“I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “He clearly thought you guys had unfinished business. But guys like that get high on fear—on desperation. He couldn’t have that if you were dead. In his mind, he’d be losing his power over you.”

He paused.

“Besides, I don’t think he would’ve gotten the chance,” Tim said. “He clearly underestimated the badass-ness of his opponent.”

You snorted. “Did you just say ‘badass-ness’?”

“It’s a word!” Tim defended.

You laughed, turning over on your side.

“But seriously, if you ever need anything, you can always talk to me,” Tim said, sounding earnest. “I mean it.”

“I may just take you up on that,” you responded. “Do you tell that to all your rookies?”

You could barely make out Tim’s frame in the dark. “No, not all of them.”

“I’m going to take that as I’m special,” you said.

Your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“You know, Lopez and Bishop had this crazy idea that you had feelings for me,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I told them it was just that—crazy.”

Tim didn’t speak.

“It is crazy right?” You asked. You had to know. He still was silent. “Right?”

“Boot, look—” Bradford started. His voice came out rough, as if he hadn’t talked in days. Your heartbeat was a deafening roar in your ears.

“Tim?”

You could hear more than see Tim’s movements. He stood, pacing the length of the room. Sat back down. Stood up again. Sat.

“Dammit, Boot, I can’t do this,” he finished. “I can’t do this right now, (Y/n).”

Your pulse quickened. He hadn’t denied it.

You stood up.

And maybe it was having to deny your attraction to your TO for seven months. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack earlier. Maybe it was because the darkness felt safe and secret—made you feel like you could do anything. Maybe you were just too eager after his small encouragement—or, lack of discouragement.

But, whatever the reason, you walked over to where Tim sat, kneeled down, looked into his confused, strained eyes, and kissed him.

Tim froze, his lips still against yours. And then, almost as if he was afraid you would vanish or startle, he placed his hand gingerly on your waist, and leaned into the kiss.

And he was kissing you back. Tim Bradford was kissing you back.

His free hand went to your hair, deepening the kiss as he gripped you closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting a lifetime.

It was desperate and raw and passionate—it was perfect.

You broke apart, both gasping for breath.

“Listen, Boot,” Tim started. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’ve had a long and confusing day—”

You interrupted him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I’m not confused about this.”

You brought your lips to his again. This time he didn’t hold back. He pulled you closer to him and you felt the warmth of him through his shirt.

When you came apart again, he was smiling.

“Well, I guess I can check thinking that you hate me off my daily checklist,” you whispered.

“I don’t hate you, Boot,” Tim said. “I actually hate how much I don’t hate you.”

You studied the planes of his face, the light from the hallway illuminating his eyes. His lips. His jawline.

“Boot—”

“If you’re going to say that this is a bad idea, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight,” you said.

“I thought that was obvious.” Tim stated matter-of-factly. “I was going to say actually I’d appreciate it if you did turn on a lamp or something, because—”

You laughed, kissing him again.

“But seriously,” Tim continued. “You know we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You pouted. “If it’s what we both want.”

“It’s not about what we want—we could be putting both of our careers in jeopardy.”

You knew he was right. Of course he was right.

“But is it—what you want?”

“God yes,” Tim blurted, standing up, his voice strained. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the moment I started training you. Do you know how hard it’s been trying to put distance between us and deny every damn thing when all I wanted to do was—”

He broke off, running a hand along his hair.

“Then do it.” Your heart pounded in your chest. “You’ll only be my TO for a few more months, we’ll just keep it a secret until then. No one has to know.”

Tim looked at you.

“Ok you’re right, Bishop and Lopez will totally know something’s up,” you admitted.

“I guess I’ll just have to transfer,” Tim joked.

“What happened to ‘Tim Bradford finished what he starts’?” You asked.

“Oh I intend to do just that,” Tim whispered. “Are we really thinking about doing this?”

You thought about the consequences you could face—Tim could face—if it got out that you and your training officer were romantically involved. You knew it would be a huge risk—one that could get you cut from the program.

You looked at Tim. He was watching you like he never wanted to let you go again. You thought about how long you’d wanted this, even if you didn’t fully know it until tonight.

And the decision seemed clear.

“Yeah,” you beamed. “Yeah I think we are.”

He cupped your face in his hand, his fingers warm against the back of your neck. Your eyes closed against his touch. You felt comfort for the first time in hours.

“You need rest,” Tim whispered and your eyes fluttered open. “As much as I’d love to do this all night.”

You nodded, backing up towards your bed. Tim ran a hand through his hair again and then sat back down in the armchair.

“What’re you doing?” You asked him.

“Going to bed,” Tim answered, as if it was obvious.

“Get over here,” you gestured, rolling your eyes at him.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Tim smiled.

You climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers over both of you.

You lay your head on Bradfords chest. You could feel his heartbeat in your ear as you closed your eyes.

“You know, this will kind of be like doing undercover work—minus the threat of getting killed,” you said.

“I don’t know about that—I wouldn’t put anything past an angry Sergeant Grey.”

“We’ll just have to be so in-character that we never find out,” you said.

“I’ll make sure to be extra tough on you next shift,” Tim agreed.

“And that’s different from any other day how?” You shot back, sitting up.

“Hey, training rookies is a sacred duty and I take that very seriously. If you think I’m going to throw your education out the window simply because—”

You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. You echoed his earlier words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Tim shook is head slightly, eyes roaming over your face.

“What?” You asked.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/n),” Tim breathed. “I’m so glad I can finally tell you that.”

“Me too,” you said. “Even if it took…this for it to happen.”

“Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a sick day tomorrow,” Tim said. “Since there’s no way Grey—or myself—is letting you go to work. What’d you say?”

You wanted to fight him, say you were fine and you could make it to your shift the next day. But the promise of taking a sick day with Tim was to tempting to pass up.

“I say I’m glad your house is being repainted,” you teased. “Because then you’ll have to stay with me.”

Tim smiled knowingly. “My house isn’t being repainted, Boot. And I’m all yours.”

You grinned, laying back down and resting your head back against Tim. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

You felt safe, protected in his arms.

The rest would come. Dealing with what had happened tonight. Starting your secret relationship with Tim. Eventually facing everyone at work who had heard the news and would want to ask if you were ok. And you would be ok.

But for now, this was enough. He was enough.

“Tim?” You whispered.

“Hmm?”

You struggled for words to fit the gravity of what you were feeling for him. “Thanks for��everything.”

“What are TOs for,” Tim shrugged.

“Apparently keeping the night light business afloat.” You giggled at the look on Bradford’s face.

“Shut it, Boot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! i’m so down bad for tim it’s not even funny 😵‍💫

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #the rookie #the rookie x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #tim bradford x rookie!reader #eric winter #eric winter x reader

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sweetcarolinejane · 5 months ago

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I know Lucy wants to be a UC detective, and the writers most likely want her to be that because it's a major stress point for Chenford. However, I'd like to see her become a T.O. She was great with Celina, teaching and correcting her without being overbearing. I could see her and Tim compete against each other, kind of like the treasure hunt.

"5 bucks says my Rookie gets more arrest than yours today. "

"Please, your boot let someone off with a verbal warning yesterday, only for us to pull them over an hour later and actually cite them."

#fanfiction #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #caroline finally watches the rookie #melissa o’neil #eric winter #the rookie chenford

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falcqns · 11 months ago

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you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter one

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy finds Tamara, not as a 17 year old, but as a newborn. She immediately takes her in, and vows to give her the childhood and support that she deserves.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, mentions of drug overdose, and drug addiction, death (not a main character though dw), Lucy is a hardcore swiftie,

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Title is from Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift

Lucy stood on the side walk, hands on her duty belt, and eyes on her current training officer, Scott Wrigley as he asked the woman they had just pulled over to see her licence, registration and proof of insurance. The woman willingly, gave him the documents, and Lucy found her attention wandering away from the woman in the car, and surveying the area they were in.

Lucy, truthfully, was bored. While Tim was hard on her, he was a good, solid cop, that did the job because he wanted to make a difference in the world. Wrigley, while also a good, solid cop, was only there for a pay check. He was there to write tickets for 12 hours a day, get paid, and go home to his children without a scrape on him. And while Lucy respected that, it just wasn’t for her. She wanted to make a difference, and sitting here, taking only the tame calls, was not doing that. She knew she just had to stick it out for a little longer, and Tim would be back, but she was starting to think she was going crazy.

So crazy that she was now having auditory hallucinations. Auditory hallucinations of a baby crying.

They were in the middle of nowhere, which was rare in Los Angeles. All that was here was empty, and long abandoned warehouses. There was no reason for a baby’s cry to be heard around here. Lucy shook her head, trying to get the noise to stop, and focus back on her temporary TO.

“You hear that, Chen?” Wrigley asked, stopping as he was walking back to the car.

“Hear what, sir?” She responded, expecting him to say something dumb like ‘the silence of a calm day,’ or something like that, just to unintentionally rub it in her face that she was bored out of her fucking mind with him.

“The baby crying,” he said, and Lucy stopped. He could hear it too? She thought to herself. If he could hear it too, that meant one of two things. 1) they were both going insane, or 2) the baby’s cry that she was hearing was from an actual baby. And she knew which one was more likely than the other.

“Yes sir, I do.” She said, looking around. “Do you want me to go find where the baby’s cry is coming from?”

Wrigley furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would we do that?” He questioned.

“Isn’t…that why you mentioned it?” She asked, thoroughly confused. “Look where we are. All that is here is empty and abandoned warehouses, why would we be hearing a baby cry here? We should be making sure that everything is okay before we leave.”

Wrigely smirked at her. “Good job, Chen.” He said, and Lucy dug her nails into her palm to stop her from rolling her eyes. He was testing her. “Go check it out while I fill out this paperwork.” She nodded, and headed off in the direction that she heard the cry.

The cry was growing louder as she turned the corner, ending up in an alleyway between two abandoned warehouses, covered in graffiti. She continued to follow the cry as she approached a dumpster. Her stomach was in knots. Surely if it was a parent and their baby, she would have heard the parents voice, right? Surely no one would have left their defenceless and helpless infant to fend for themselves, right?

Wrong.

Lucy walked to the other side of the dumpster, and she gasped, her heart pounding. On the ground, beside the dumpster, was a baby, who couldn’t be older than a few hours old, judging by the umbilical cord still attached, and how the baby, who upon closer inspection was a girl, was haphazardly wiped off and placed in a broken wicker basket.

Next to her, was very obviously her mother. There was a pool of blood covering her upper thighs and the ground underneath her, and used needles spread around the scene, including one still stuck in her upper arm. Lucy grabbed her radio, and pressed down.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-19 requesting an RA and a supervisor at Cromer Lane, in the first alleyway on the left, I have a 10-50, code 3.” Lucy placed her radio back, and crouched down next to the baby, doing her best to comfort the little girl without picking her up, despite how much Lucy wanted to.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” She whispered, reaching into her duty belt for a pair of gloves. She slid them on her hands, and reached over to the baby’s mother in order to try and see if she could feel a pulse. Her heart broke for the sobbing baby girl when she couldn’t feel one.

She heard sirens in the background, as well as boots hitting the ground, clearly Wrigley running to see what was happening after hearing her call on the radio.

“Oh my god.” He whispered from behind her.

“I need something to wrap the baby in,” She said to Wrigley, and he started to retreat, mumbling something about grabbing an emergency blanket from the shop.

He returned less than a minute later, and Lucy grabbed the package from him, ripping it open. She shook the blanket to get it to unfold, before she wrapped the small infant up, holding her close to her chest, hoping some of her body heat would transfer through the blanket.

The sirens got closer, and Lucy began to see the flashing lights reflected on the brick wall across from her. Wrigley was talking to her, but she wasn’t hearing or processing anything coming out of his mouth. All that she could focus on was the tiny little baby in her arms, who was calmed down, and was just staring up at her, her small brown eyes looking up into Lucy’s.

“It’s gonna be okay,” She whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.” She heard the doors of the ambulance open behind her and paramedics rush to her side. A female paramedic crouched down next to her, and began to ask her questions about the baby and her mother.

“She seems to be okay, physically at least.” Lucy rambled, her eyes not leaving the tiny baby. “She can’t be more than a few hours old.”

The paramedic nodded. “Judging by the shaking, I’m assuming her mother was using her entire pregnancy.” Lucy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She watched carefully as the paramedics cut the umbilical cord, and then continued working on trying to resuscitate her mother, with no success.

They gave her 2 doses of Narcan, did CPR, and tried the AED, but nothing worked. She was gone, and had probably been gone since before Lucy and Wrigley arrived on scene.

“We have to take her to the hospital,” The paramedic beside Lucy stated, standing up. Lucy did the same, as Grey and Wrigely walked up to her.

“I’m coming with,” she stated.

“Boot-“ Wrigley replied, clearly frustrated with how hard headed she was being.

“I’m going.” She stated, firmer. She then turned to Grey, and looked at him for approval. He nodded at her, a smile on his face.

“Go with her, Chen.” He said. “Let us know if theres any updates.”

Lucy smiled. “Yes, sir.” She said, before following the paramedic, and climbing in the back of the ambulance. They were pulling away a few moments later, and were headed to St Stephens.

Lucy was able to stay with the baby until they reached the NICU. She was then told that they needed to do an assessment on the infant, but that someone would come and grab Lucy when she was able to go see her. She sat down in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair, and glanced around at the other families in the NICU. She didn’t know any of their stories, but they all had one thing in common; they were here because they wanted their baby to be okay.

And while that tiny little baby wasn’t Lucy’s, Lucy was the one who found her, who called for help, who held her and comforted her when she needed it the most. She had no one at the moment, so there was nowhere else Lucy would rather be than here, supporting this little girl.

“Officer Chen?” A voice said to the right of her. She looked up, and stood up when she saw the doctor.

“Yes?” She said, coming face to face with the nurse in charge of the infant. “Is she going to be okay?”

The nurse smiled. “She is very lucky, officer.” Lucy let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding at that. “She is very healthy. She does have traces of meth in her blood, but it is a very minuscule amount. It should leave her system within the next 8 to 24 hours.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay. Thats good. I was thinking the worst.”

The nurse nodded. “She is a very lucky little girl. I have contacted DCFS, and they are going to send someone as soon as they can, it appears that they are very backed up at the moment. Is there anything you need from me?”

“Uh,” Lucy stuttered, racking her brain for the protocols to follow in this situation. “No, not right now. I will have to wait for my supervisor or training officer to proceed, but in the meantime, am I able to go sit with her?”

The nurse nodded, and began to turn. “Of course, follow me and I’ll take you to her.” Lucy began to follow the nurse down the hallway. “Actually,” the nurse said. “Would you be up to kangaroo cuddling with her? Being so young, she definitely hasn’t had skin to skin with anyone, and skin to skin is very beneficial to an infant as young as her.”

Lucy found herself nodding immediately. “Of course, whatever she needs.” Lucy trailed after the nurse into the dark and quiet NICU room, glancing at the two other bassinets in the room, each with what she presumed to be family around them, either gazing into the bassinet, or holding their baby. Lucy’s eyes met the bassinet holding the baby she had found, and her heart broke seeing the infants tiny body with wires and tubes coming out of her body, even though she had much less equipment than the other two infants in the room.

“She’s so small,” Lucy whispered, looking into the bassinet.

“She’s actually the biggest baby on the ward at the moment.” The nurse said, pointing to the chair for Lucy to sit in.

“So she was full term then?” Lucy said as she laid her duty belt on the table next to her, and unbuttoning her uniform shirt.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, she was. And perfectly healthy, other than the meth in her system, which is surprising. It seems that her mother did try to abstain from drug use while pregnant, but she most likely slipped up towards the end.”

“Wow.” Lucy said, taking off her white undershirt and laying it on top of her uniform shirt. “That’s not something I see too often.”

“Me either,” The nurse agreed, as she lifted up the infant and tucked her legs up, bringing her over to Lucy. Lucy opened her arms, and let the nurse rest the baby on her chest. Lucy immediately wrapped her arms around the baby, cuddling her as close as she could without hurting her. The nurse then laid a light pink blanket over the two of them with a smile.

“If you need anything, just press the nurses button, and someone will come and check on you. And I will come and get you as soon as DCFS or your superiors show up.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes not leaving the baby. “Thank you.” The nurse nodded, and headed out of the room. Lucy slowly began rocking back and forth in the chair, looking intently at the baby, who was wiggling around, head bobbing up and down on Lucy’s chest as she tried to get comfortable.

Once the baby found a comfortable position, she opened her tiny mouth in a big yawn, and shut her eyes, falling asleep within seconds on Lucy’s warm skin. Lucy chuckled quietly, and began rubbing her hand up and down on her back, letting her get some well deserved sleep.

After a few minutes of silence, there was a crash in the hallway from a cart crashing into a wall, and the baby jolted awake, before bursting into tears. Lucy immediately sat up, and hushed the baby in her arms.

“You’re okay, sweet girl,” she whispered. “I know, that was loud, huh?” The baby hiccuped, and her tears slowly began to stop. Her eyes were open, and Lucy smiled. “It’s okay.” She continued speaking to the infant. “You’re safe with me.” She leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

The baby yawned again, and Lucy smiled at her, cupping the back of her head, rubbing her thumb back and forth against her soft skin.

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go,” Lucy began to sing, her eyes not leaving the baby. “When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don’t leave me here alone.

“But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight,” The baby didn’t move, just continued to stare up at Lucy as she sang. “Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.”

A lump formed in Lucy’s throat as she gazed down at the infant in her arms. She couldn’t understand how lucky she was that Lucy was near the warehouse when she was. Despite being in Los Angeles, it was still December, and the temperature plummeted at night time, and had she been out there a few more hours, she would have died.

And now, this tiny, defenceless orphan, who’s life only started today, had no one. Had no mother, more than likely no father, and she was about to go into the foster care system if DCFS couldn’t find a next of kin within a few days. And what made it worse, was how Lucy was already dreading putting her down. She didn’t want to put this baby down. She wanted to keep holding this little girl. She wanted to take her home, love her, protect her, and raise her.

She took a deep breath as the baby’s eyes fluttered shut, and fell back into a peaceful sleep. She thought about offering to take her in, at least until DCFS found next of kin for her, if they were able to at all. She could, she was an emergency foster parent, and had been since she turned 20. She had an apartment in a safe part of the city, and made more than enough money to support the two of them.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said to the baby. “You’re gonna come home with me, and I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

#natashasera #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fanfic #the rookie fanfiction #tamara colins fanfiction #melissa oneil #eric winter #dylan conrique

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americaswritings · 1 year ago

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Tim's eyes caught hers and for a moment she felt breathless under the weight of his steel blue eyes. "Boyfriend?" "I said partner", she clarified, knowing fully well what it would sound like to everyone else other than cops. "If I recall correctly, I'm your superior", Tim pointed out. "No sign of amnesia then."

Prompts: "You told me to move on" & Tim asks Lucy to lay with him in the hospital bed and she says no because she doesn't want to hurt him. Tim says "you could never hurt me" and "please, I need you"

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rookieoneil · 10 months ago

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I’d formally like to apologize to my professor who stood behind me and read fanfic that I was reading instead of the reading assignment 🥲.

But he enjoyed the Chenford / Wopez trouple fan fiction so I regret nothing at the end of the day

#the rookie #fanfiction #lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #angela lopez #wesley evers #wopez #chenpez #melissa oneil #eric winter #tim x lucy #alyssa diaz #shawn ashmore

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summerongrand · 1 month ago

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You're Losing Me

Summary: Lucy gets shot and her teenage daughter finds out.

Read the fic here.

Chenford Week Day 1: angst. Read this post which explains why I've rearranged the order of the CFW "days" for my stories.

#chenfordweek24 #Chenford Week: Day 1 #Chenford #Chenford fanfic #Chenford moodboard #Chenford fanfic moodboard #Chenford fanfiction moodboard #My Fics #Tim Bradford #Lucy Chen #Eric Winter #Melissa O'Neil #The Rookie #Tucy #You're Losing Me #my fics #ANGSTY AF #Original Child Characters #Chenford babies

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boothedogluv · 2 months ago

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Finding a Fanfic

Does anyone remember a fanfic on Ao3 called “A Sea of Endless Stars?” It was a Chenford AU fanfiction about Lucy and Tim if they met as teenagers in a hospital with depression. Luna Grey was their therapist. If you have it, would you send it to me?

#the rookie #tim x lucy #lucy chen #tim bradford #angela lopez #eric winter #melissa oneil #luna grey #the rookie fanfic #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #chenford

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4ever-chenford · 4 months ago

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Fanfic Prompt:

- Lucy age 16

- Tim age 21

- for History class Lucy and her friends get an assignment. They get pen pals assigned who serve in the army. Lucy's pen pal is a Seargent Bradford.

- shortly after 9/11 hits and most of Lucy's friends stop writing their pen pals because of different reasons, but Lucy keeps on writing because she hopes her letter will reach him and will help him through this hard time, because in his letters he wrote about a tough childhood and not a lot of happy memories

- up to the author if this stays a one shot. But I think this has the potential for a multi-chapter fic, where they try to meet up after Tim gets discharged

#the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #fanfiction #fanfic #eric winter #melissa o'neil #writing prompt #fic prompt #army #pen pals #chenford #chenford fanfic #chenfordedit

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rookieoneil · 3 months ago

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This book is so good!! Highly recommend

“She’s dying, Tim,” Rosalind says; he spares her barely a glance before he returns his focus to Lucy. It’s been nearly a minute now, but she’s still moving, the methodical back and forth of her arms keeping her fully submerged. “Take the shot,” Rosalind commands, rising to her feet. “You can still save her.” Tim rises as well but otherwise ignores her demands, eyes unblinking as he watches it all play out on the screen. They’re so close. If Lucy can just make it another minute – maybe less than that by now – the flames will subside and she can resurface. Except. Her movements are faltering. It’s subtle at first; her arms are still swaying back and forth, but it’s less purposeful. Weaker. They’re not so much propelling the water as drifting through it, slower and slower, until they still and Lucy’s body begins to sink limply toward the bottom of the tank. Tim knows it will take time to douse the flames, easily another minute beyond that until they can cut through the grate and pull her out to begin CPR. She’ll be dead by then. And though he can’t be certain Rosalind is telling the truth, that her partner really will unlock the trap once she’s dead, Tim also knows he will never forgive himself for having the chance to save Lucy’s life and not taking it. Steeling himself, he turns back to Rosalind, meeting her cold blue gaze one final time as he raises the gun and pulls the trigger.

-Into the dark by @makeitastrength (submitted by @roguetwelve)

#chenford fanfic quotes #chenford #chenford fanfiction #author: makeitastrength #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #angela lopez #melissa oneil #eric winter #the rookie fanfic

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myveryownfanfiction · 6 months ago

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing, menstruation

“Tim.” I whined as I trailed behind him. “Can we please just go home?” Tim tugged my hand and wrapped his arm around me. My arm crossed my body to continue holding his hand.

“come on. Just once more around the block. Kojo isn’t ready to go home yet.” Tim said, turning his head to kiss my temple. I groaned and slumped against him.

“Then you finish walking him.” I complained. “If I keep walking, my insides are going to fall out.” Tim chuckled, lips still pressed against my head.

“alright. We’ll head home.” He promised. “And I’ll make you some tea and we can curl up on the couch to watch that stupid show you love.”

“hey!” I gently shoved him. “It’s not a stupid show!” Tim laughed and kissed my head again. “You’re just being an asshole about it.” We turned the corner and Tim let go of me to dig his keys out of his pocket. "I'll get the TV set up if you want to take care of the food?"

"Sounds like a plan." He agreed before unlocking the door and bending down to take care of Kojo's leash. Kojo took off and Tim laughed as he stood back up. I kissed his cheek before heading towards the living room. Grabbing the remote, I sat down on the couch. I found the show fairly quickly and put it on, pausing it until Tim came back.

“ready?” I asked as he sat down with a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

“nope.” He said, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me flush against him. “Now I am.” I laughed as he smiled at me. I hit play and curled up against him.

#Tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #Tim Bradford fanfic #tim Bradford fanfiction #Tim Bradford imagine #eric winter #eric winter fanfic #Eric winter fanfiction #Eric winter imagine #eric winter x reader #Monthly #monthly series

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sweetcarolinejane · 5 months ago

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Today on Caroline watches the rookie, I'm catching up. . . First off Chenford's First Date! We got this great line from Tim:

I love that, Mr. Calm, Cool, Collected Tim Bradford becomes a bumbling mess that says things like "naked time" in the presence of Lucy. Lol

But their second "actual first date" was adorable, and I got my favorite Tim Line:

And THIS SCENE RIGHT HERE

IT'S FRIGGIN CHRISTMAS FOR ME. My babies are together, and happy. I know this is the rookie and that probably won't last, but I'm enjoying it while I can 😀

My only complaint is I feel like we've skipped over a lot of "honeymoon chenford." I know it's a cop show, and chenford Romance is not the main event, but I wish we could have seen the squad finding out about Chenford, or Tim finding out that Lucy and Nolan used to have a thing lol I've definitely got some fanfic ideas floating around!! I finished season 5 last night, and it's bittersweet that I only have 10 episodes left!

#chenford #lucy chen #the rookie #tim bradford #eric winter #melissa o’neil #caroline finally watches the rookie #the rookie season 5 #fanfiction #the rookie chenford #chenford 5x12 #chenford 5x11 #chenford first date

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falcqns · 1 year ago

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give me back my girlhood (it was mine first)

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Tim thinks Lucy has fully healed from Caleb. He is quickly proven wrong when they start dating.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Tim Bradford would burn the entire world just to see Lucy Chen smile, trauma, ptsd, takes place around season 5, canon divergence, hints to autistic!Lucy (meltdowns, going nonverbal, stimming, etc), Lucy had seizures after Caleb, Tamara is Chenfords kid, can you tell I have a soft spot for Tamara, Title is from Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve by Taylor Swift, tagging @natashasera

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Tim thought that the transition from just friends to in a relationship would be easy for him and Lucy, but he was quickly proven wrong. He also thought that Lucy had healed from what Caleb and Rosalind had done to her, but once again, he was proven wrong. She may have healed enough to continue day to day life in her normal manner, but when it came to their relationship, almost everything triggered her, and it broke Tim’s heart.

The first time Tim had noticed that Lucy was being triggered was when they went on their first date. Lucy had ordered a drink, an old fashioned to be exact. She had taken a sip of it when it arrived at their table, and Tim saw how a line appeared between her two eyebrows.

“Everything okay, Luce?” He asked quietly, prepared to flag down the waitress and have her remake the drink if it wasn’t up to Lucy’s standards. Lucy nodded slightly, but pushed the cup away. As she did so, Tim saw her hand shaking.

“I-It tastes funny.” She whispered so quietly that Tim barely heard her. Tim moved closer to her in the booth.

“It tastes funny?” He asked, and she nodded, tears beginning to form.

“It doesn’t taste normal.” She said, her breathing picking up speed. Tim grasped her chin, guiding her eyes to his, and his stomach dropped when he saw the fear in them, realizing what was going on. Her drink tasted different to her, and it brought back memories to when she was drugged. Tim’s heart broke as she whimpered, tears beginning to spill over and roll down her cheeks, her breath speeding up.

“Luce, baby,” He whispered. “You’re safe. I know that what you’re feeling feels really real right now, but it’s not. You’re here with me, Tim, and you’re safe.” He said, still holding her face. “Can you nod if you can hear my voice, Goosey?” He said, and Lucy immediately nodded. “Good girl,” he praised, and smiled slightly when he saw her breathing slow slightly.

“Can you tell me something that you can see?” He asked, and her eyes darted around briefly, before settling on Tim.

“Y-You,” She stuttered, and Tim smiled.

“You can see me?” He inquired, and she nodded. “Good girl.”

He continued to quiz her on her surroundings until she was back in the present, and had calmed down. She was still upset, but Tim knew it was more out of embarrassment than anything. She had wrapped both her arms around his left one, and was resting her head on his shoulder, looking down at her lap.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Lucy didn’t respond with words, instead she grunted slightly, and snuggled into his shoulder even more. “Baby,” he whispered, and eased his arm out of her grip, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

Lucy, once again, didn’t respond, and buried her face in his chest. “Okay, okay,” He soothed, helping her get comfortable. “Do you want to eat, or do you want to go home?” He asked and Lucy shakily pointed to her plate, and Tim pulled it over, handing her her fork. Lucy then sat up, and slowly began eating her food. Tim went back to his own food once he was sure she was okay, but he kept his hand on her lower back.

—

Tim had also noticed that Lucy seemed to fear arguments and disagreements with him. It was something he had taken note of when she first came back to work after Caleb. She was quiet, only talking when he spoke to her, and then if they got in as much as the slightest disagreement, she would shut it down and just agree with him, no matter how he knew she felt about the topic. He thought that she was just taking time to readjust to their relationship being strictly Rookie-TO at work, but he realized as soon as they started dating that she had developed a fear of men, and a fear of upsetting them.

Tim had asked her what she wanted for dinner, and she had said she didn’t care, and that he could pick. Normally, Tim would be okay with that, but since asking her out, he had been making all the decisions in the relationship, in things that didn’t involve work. He had insisted that she choose, and she refused, and they went back and forth until Lucy completely shut down and stopped talking, which made Tim angry.

And he knows it shouldn’t have made him angry, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted her to be able to eat what she wanted around him, and he didn’t want her to feel like he was controlling her or the relationship in anyway. He knew that she needed to feel in control, and he wanted her to be able to feel that.

“Lucy, just tell me what you want to eat, and I will go and get it!” He said, exasperated, and Lucy shook her head aggressively, and turned away from him. “No,” he said, reaching out for her. “C’mon, talk to me, I just wanna help-“ he stopped talking when he saw her flinch away from him. He then watched through the reflection of the tv the fear that had appeared on her face.

She then whimpered, and then shot up, running to her bedroom, sobs falling from her lips as she went. Tim immediately followed her, instantly feeling shitty about the way he had talked to her. He felt even shittier when he walked into her bedroom and saw her hiding behind the chair in the corner of her room by the window, the soft grey blanket that he bought her her first night in the hospital after Caleb giving away her position, the material peaking out from behind the legs.

“Goosey,” Tim whispered, crouching down close to the chair, but also keeping his distance so that she didn’t feel trapped. “I’m sorry,” he started. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I didn’t mean to scare you. If you don’t feel like you can choose what to eat right now, that’s okay. I can choose for us.”

He paused, and waited to hear if Lucy would respond at all. After a moment, he heard her voice say something, but he couldn’t make out what she said.

“Can you repeat that, Luce? I didn’t hear you.” He said, and Lucy’s voice could be heard again, this time louder.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry I made you mad.” She continued, and Tim sighed, moving slightly closer.

“Goosey, you didn’t make me mad at all. I just want you to be able to feel in control of your body and your choices, thats why I wanted to know what you wanted to eat. I shouldn’t have pressured you like I did, and I should have listened to your body language.”

“‘m sorry, please don’ hurt me,” she sobbed. “Didn’t mean it, I’ll be good,”

Tim wiped away the tear that ran down his face after he realized that Lucy was having a flashback.

“I want you to listen to me, Lucy.” He said calmly. “You’re here with me, in your bedroom, in your apartment in Los Angeles. Caleb is dead, and you’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” He soothed, and after a few more moments of silence, he heard a sniffle, followed by a small “okay,” and then some shuffling.

Lucy crawled out from behind the arm chair and looked up at Tim, slightly hiding her face behind her blanket. Tim gently held out his arms, letting her know she can come to him for comfort if thats what she needed. She slowly inched her way over to him, and fell into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her as tight to her body as he knew she liked, and stood up slowly, lifting her in the process.

He let her cry out her emotions as he slowly rocked her back and forth, hoping the motion would help her to regulate her emotions. She eventually calmed down, and she snuggled into his shoulder, sniffling slightly. He rubbed her back as he walked out into the living room, whispering in her ear as he did.

“Do you want me to choose what we eat? Would that make it easier on you?” He asked, and he nodded, taking a mental note of what to do next time she struggles like that. She needed to feel in control, but sometimes she needed him to make decisions for her, and he was okay with that.

—

The thing that triggered Lucy that hurt him the most was the sound of a tattoo gun. Before Caleb, Lucy loved tattoos, and loved getting tattoos. She had often talked to not only him, but to their fellow officers, about tattoo’s that she wanted and was planning on getting. Tim had known that she had been tattoo’d by Caleb, he saw it when he was in the ambulance with her, and they had moved her shirt in order to do an ECG after she had her third consecutive seizure. His heart had clenched seeing the black ink on her rib cage, and in that moment he had hoped that she was asleep when the tattoo had been done.

But of course, God must hate him, so she had been awake. Something he had no clue about until Tamara had asked them both to accompany her to her first ever tattoo appointment, where she was also getting a date, the date that the three of them had stood in front of the judge finalizing Lucy and Tim adopting Tamara.

Lucy said yes immediately, without even thinking. Tim knew why, of course. Tamara had been let down by everyone in her life, and Lucy was determined to never let her down. Tim didn’t think anything of it, and was even thinking of getting his own tattoo, with both Lucy and Tamara’s birthdays.

Everything was fine until Tamara was lying on the table, her arm out for the tattoo artist, prepped and ready for the ink. The tattoo gun began to buzz, and Lucy tensed up beside him.

“Are you okay?” Tim said under his breath to Lucy, resting his hand on her knee, his other hand holding Tamara’s free one.

“Mhm,” She said, eyes locked on the tattoo gun where it was permanently marking up her daughters skin. “Jus’ need to go to the bathroom,” She said, a little louder, and made brief eye contact with Tamara, clearly trying to tell the girl that everything was fine. Tamara nodded, her brows furrowing for a moment, but then relaxing after Lucy left the room.

Tim waited a few minutes, before following her. “I’m just gonna go check on Mom, okay?” He said to Tamara. “I won’t be gone long.” She nodded, and Tim left the room.

He looked towards the lobby, and could see Lucy outside, so he immediately joined her, where he found her near tears, looking up into the sky to preserve her makeup.

“Luce-“ He started to say, but Lucy cut him off.

“I’m fine.” She said, her voice short.

Tim shook his head. “No, you’re not.” He said, and grabbed her hand. “You’re not, and that’s okay.”

Lucy shook her head, and ripped her hand out of Tim’s grip. “No, its not, Tim!” She said, running her hands through her curls. “Because this is just another thing Caleb has taken from me.” She ranted. “I can’t even sit with my daughter while she gets her first tattoo, I-I can’t get any of the tattoo’s that I wanted to get, I can’t even listen to the buzzing noise of the gun because that’s what I woke up to after he took me-“

“Oh, Goosey,” Tim said sadly, immediately wrapping her up in his arms. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were awake when he did that to you. Had I known that, we could have explained to Tamara why you couldn’t go, or we could have brought your headphones-“

“I don’t need them!” Lucy yelled, pulling out of Tim’s arms, and crouching down, covering her ears wit her hands, her eyes squeezing shut. Tim sighed, and sat next to her, being mindful to not touch her until she asked or initiated contact.

“Yes, you do, Goosey, and thats okay.” He said. “I’m not going to judge you for it, Tamara certainly isn’t going to judge you for it, and any person with more than half a braincell wouldn’t judge you for it. I suggested it because when you do wear them out of the house, you are able to cope better, and that’s all I wanted. And as for him taking the ability to get tattoo’s from you, he didn’t. If you really want to get another tattoo, I’m sure we can find a trauma informed tattoo artist that is willing to work with you on this.” He explained, as he wrapped an arm around her after she removed her hands from her ears, and rested her head on his shoulder. “But it’s entirely up to you, okay?”

Lucy nodded, and sniffed. Tim kissed her on the head, and helped her stand up. She took a deep breath, and looked towards the tattoo shop door. “We should go back in,” she said, and Tim looked at her.

“Are you sure you want to?” He asked. “You don’t have to, I can go back in and you can wait in the truck if it’s going to be too hard for you.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, I-I think I was just a little unprepared, and that’s why it triggered me. I’m prepared to hear the noise, so I’ll be okay.” She said. “Tamara wanted both of us with her and I’m not going to let her down.” She finished, as she led him back inside, and into the room, where the artist was bandaging up Tamara’s tattoo.

“Can I see it, bubba,” Lucy asked, walking up to Tamara’s side immediately. Tamara holds her arm out, while looking up worriedly at Lucy.

“Are you okay, Mom?” She asked, and Lucy nodded, running a hand through Tamara’s hair.

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay.” She said, assuring the teen. “I don’t want you to worry, okay?”

Tamara blinked, her lower lip wobbling slightly. “I’m always going to worry about you,” she whispered. “You’re my mom, and I know I don’t know everything that you went through but I know enough to know that you got triggered. I didn’t even think about that before asking, I’m sorry,” she said, a tear falling from her eye.

“T,” Tim whispered, moving to her head and pressing a kiss to her head as he sat next to her on the table. “It’s okay. I don’t think any of us really thought about it.” He assured her, and Lucy nodded, sitting on the table as well.

“Yeah. It did trigger me, but I removed myself from the situation, worked through what I was feeling, and then prepared myself to come back. It’s okay, I promise.” She said, cupping Tamara’s cheek, and rubbing her thumb back and forth.

“Okay,” Tamara said, and as soon as Lucy seemed to be sure that Tamara was okay, she turned back and looked at the tattoo. “I love it, baby,” She said.

“Me, too.” Tim said, smiling down at his daughter.

“Now,” Lucy said, smiling up at Tim. “Your dad just needs to get one, and we’ll be all inked up.”

Tim shook his head but laughed along with his girls.

—

Lucy wasn’t fully healed from Caleb, but Tim was going to do everything in his power to make sure that one day, she would be. Caleb had taken a lot from her, but Tim was going to make sure that she was able to reclaim what he had taken, no matter the cost.

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