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somethingtofightfor-shares · 3 days ago

Text

Part 2 is here! <3

To: You, From: Santa (2)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,912

Summary: You have a better idea where you stand with Tim, but that only makes things a little more complicated - especially when it comes to figuring out your next moves.

Rating: M: language.

Author's Note:

Part 2 is here!

This is not connected to Black Days. Reader works in Tim's precinct, but not as a fellow officer/detective.

I really enjoyed writing this story, and I'm glad I was able to get something holiday themed out this year, even if it's not as extensive as I've written in the past.

Thanks for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

(Part 1)

Over the next week, Tim focused on the hours you’d spent together at the mall and dinner, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that those thoughts occupied an unusually large amount of his mental bandwith.

He was disappointed that the movie tickets had been sold out, because it would have been a perfect way to introduce the idea of the two of you seeing it together in a low stakes way. It would not only have been bringing a conversation full circle, but getting a feel for whether or not you liked the idea of seeing him again when there was no underlying need.

He thought that you were into the idea. He certainly was, and had been somewhat upset by the fact that the restaurant he’d chosen hadn’t had much of a wait, meaning that you were seated and served quickly. The conversation throughout dinner had been constant - both of you using the opportunity to get to know each other better and in a more relaxed situation.

It had strayed into flirtatious territory a couple times - just like the hours in the mall had - but neither of you took that any further. It was probably for the best; dating a coworker, even casually, was a tricky thing to navigate. Even though we work in different departments. Even though there’s not really conflict of interest. Even though … He raised the coffee cup to his lips and wrinkled his nose at the lukewarm liquid. “Even though I think I want to date her.”

He hadn’t had any real reason to visit you in the evidence room, but he’d still gone down on two separate occasions to say hello. You’d been happy to see him, taking a few minutes to talk to him between your other duties, but you hadn’t brought up seeing him outside of work again - so Tim hadn’t either.

But you had thanked him for dinner. And you had sent him a few texts throughout the week, sending links to things that had made you laugh. And it was those messages - and the memory of you the previous weekend - that motivated him to return to the mall to buy you the dinosaur socks as the final part of your gift.

Tim had also bought a new roll of paper for your gifts, wrapping each of them separately first and then all three together in a larger box. There was still a week before the party, but he didn’t want to leave anything until last minute, since he knew how easy it was for him to get sidetracked with a case.

It happened on that Friday, Tim poring over files in his office until a knock at his door startled him. He figured it was one of the other officers on the floor, but was stunned when at the call of his voice to come in, the door cracked open and you peeked in, an anxious look on your face. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but I was on my way out and saw your car was still here, so…” Opening the door all the way, you held up a bag. “I ordered dinner for you.”

“You what?” He flattened his hands atop his desk, the pressure of his fingers making the paper crinkle. “Dinner?”

“Yeah, I …” You took a few steps closer, still holding the bag out. “I ordered from the place we talked about the other night, but I didn’t know what you liked so I guessed.”

“And what did you guess?” He stood, rounding the desk and walking toward you, letting himself imagine what it would be like to slide an arm around you and pull you closer for just a few seconds. I’d like that a lot. “Let’s see how well you know me.”

“I don’t know you well.” He took the bag from you but made no motion to open it, instead keeping his eyes on you. “But um…” You crossed your arms, lifting your shoulders in a quick shrug. “You had that peanut butter brownie thing the other night at dinner, so I figured you weren’t allergic to nuts.”

“I’m not.” He fought back a smile, fingers tightening around the bag handle. “Good catch.” That got a brief grin from you, Tim watching as some of the anxiety bled from you and you relaxed the set of your shoulders.

“I got you Kung Pao chicken and fried rice. I think they gave me extra because it’s almost closing time, but -” What? He looked down at his watch, both eyes widening at the realization that it was nearly 11 PM.

“Fuck, it’s late. I should…” He looked back at his desk, sighing. “Why are you here so late?”

“There was no coverage. Someone called off, and I volunteered to stay until they could find someone else. Mina just showed up a little while ago and I’m off tomorrow anyway so it’s fine.” His stomach growled, both of you glancing down at it. “Sounds like it’s a good thing I came up here.”

He agreed. He hadn’t even realized just how hungry he was until that moment because he’d been so wrapped up in what he was doing. But if she handed me this whole bag, where’s hers? “Did you order anything for yourself?” He frowned, reaching up to pull his glasses off and tuck them into the front pocket of his dress shirt. “Please don’t tell me you only ordered me food, you need to -”

“I did.” You pointed at the door. “I just asked for it to be packaged separately so I could leave yours with you.” You bit your lip and he didn’t even try to keep himself from looking down to watch, his own lips parting at the sight. “I’m going to eat at home.”

“Eat with me.” He took a half step closer, Tim’s heartbeat elevated. “Unless you need to get home, I mean. I can shove this shit off to the side, and -”

“No, you can’t.” You laughed, taking a deep breath. “We both know you’re not going to shove any of that to the side.” She’s right. “But I’ll go back into the break room and get my dinner and by that time, I’m sure you can clear off some space for us to eat by stacking everything into neat little piles.” It was your turn to wink at him, the action catching him by surprise - but it made him want to reach out even more.

He managed to stop himself - barely - as you headed out of the office and back into the main area, and Tim only gave himself a few seconds to collect his thoughts before he moved. He stacked his notebooks and folders into two short piles, clearing off enough space that you could both eat without risking messes. And he thought about what you bringing him dinner might mean the whole time, going back and forth over whether or not to say anything when you came back into the room. It might weird her out. And I don’t want to do that, especially since I have a gift for her next week.

You knocked briefly when you reentered, but didn’t pause until you were sitting down across from him and pulling your own food out of your bag. He watched for a few seconds and then cleared his throat. “It’s much nicer having you sitting across from me than the people who are usually in that seat.” He sat down and then reached for the bag with his food in it, ripping the staples open. “Bet this conversation will be more pleasant, too.”

And it was. You and Tim talked while you ate, his attention focused on the way you paused between bites to think, only looking away from where he sat when you were deep in thought. As time passed, he realized that it was more than a crush or a physical attraction - Tim was interested in you.

“You’re spacing out.” You reached across the table, poking the back of his hand gently with your fork. “Is dinner not good?”

“It’s great.” He picked up a chunk of chicken with his chopsticks, holding it up. “I don’t usually get this, but maybe I should start.” You looked worried for a few seconds and he shook his head, chewing and swallowing quickly. “Cashew chicken and Mongolian beef are what I go between.” He pointed at the container in front of him with one finger. “But you were close. It’s impressive.”

“Just because I work in the evidence room, that doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention to y- to things, Detective.” You’d recovered quickly but he’d heard it, and you both knew it. “Now I know for next time.”

“Next time here, or …” He took a deep breath. “Or next time in general?” Tim’s tongue darted out to lick sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Because I’d be alright with either of those options.”

It was a risk. He was putting himself out there, tentatively telling you that if you were thinking about something not related to work, so was he. “Would you?” He heard the hopeful note to your voice, your lips parting as you waited for his answer. He didn’t say anything, but instead nodded, not breaking eye contact. I hope this wasn’t a mistake. “I would be too.”

The admission hung in the room between you, and for a few seconds, Tim held his breath. But when you grinned at him, he let it out, closing his eyes and smiling back at you before covering his face with one hand. Really? “Feels pretty ridiculous, right?” He lowered his hand, tipping his head to the side. “Two adults getting nervous about admitting something like this?”

“Not ridiculous.” You closed your takeout container before putting it carefully back into the bag and tying the top closed. “Cautious, maybe?” Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms. “We work together. It’s good that we’re …” You narrowed your eyes. “You said you wouldn’t ever date someone you worked with, so -”

“I said it gets messy, not that I never would.” He wiped both hands and then dropped the napkin on the top of his desk. “And between us, there’s no rank differential to worry about, so that’s irrelevant.” Is this really happening? “We should still be … careful though.”

“I agree.” You stood up, looking down at where Tim sat. “Which is why I think I should go now.”

“What?” He stood, too, keeping the desk between you. “Why? It’s late, I should go home, too, and -”

“It is late. And you should go home.” Your smile was back, Tim watching as your eyebrows rose. “But I’m not sure either of us expected things to go this way tonight, so if we aren’t careful, we could fuck it up.”

“How?” He crossed his arms, watching as your eyes locked on his chest and the way his holster harness moved with the motion. I’ll remember that. “How are we going to fuck it up?”

“Do you want me to be honest?” He nodded, watching as you took a quick breath, steadying yourself for whatever you were about to say. “Ok.” You glanced up at the ceiling and then met his gaze again, unblinking. “If I don’t walk out of this office right now, I’m going to come over there and kiss you, and as much as I’m dying to know what that might feel like, I don’t want to kiss you for the first time after eating takeout food in your office.”

He was stunned - not because you admitted to wanting to kiss him, but because you were actively explaining why you didn’t want to do it then. “I agree. That kind of kiss is …” He shrugged, pushing his lower lip out as though he was in thought. “Third or fourth date territory.”

Your return laugh was a welcome one, and as you cautiously stepped forward, you steadied yourself again, to Tim’s surprise. “Thank you for understanding, Tim. I thought …” You trailed off, and before he could stop himself, Tim reached for you with both hands. When you took them, fingers sliding across his palms and then curling around his fingers, he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Get your shit together. “I thought you’d be upset.”

“I’m not.” He squeezed your hands back, saying your name. “We’ve got time.” And then, before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, he pulled his hands free from yours and wrapped his arms around you, urging you closer to his chest. You paused for a moment and then hugged him back, one hand against the center of his back and the other higher. He held you close until he felt your shoulders shaking and then released you, worried that he’d overstepped. But she’s laughing? I don’t understand.

“The holsters.” You pressed your lips together, backing away as you lifted a hand to bite down on one knuckle, head moving back and forth slowly. “I’ve thought about touching that harness more times than -” Unbelievable. I was so worried for nothing.

“Go home.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as you started laughing. “Go home now or I’m going to count the breakroom as date one, that visit to the evidence locker as date number two, the mall as date number three, and this as -”

“Goodnight, Tim.” You went back to the chair you’d been in and pulled your coat on, fighting back laughter. “I hope you get out of here at a decent hour.” He hoped so, too, but knew that realistically, he’d still be there for a few more.

“Can I walk you out to your -”

“No.” You picked up your leftovers, shaking your head. “Because if you walk me out there, we’ll end up talking. And that means you’ll work later. I don’t want that.” You paused by the door, turning to look back and over your shoulder at Tim. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for the offer.”

He wanted to say something else, but chose not to, instead just giving you a quick smile and sliding a hand into his pocket. You closed the door behind you, and once you were gone, Tim tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, rubbing hard at one eye.

Knowing you felt the same as him was one thing - but moving forward in a way that wouldn’t fuck it all up was another.

You were excited for the party, and knowing that you’d finally get to give Tim his gifts made you almost giddy.

There hadn’t been much time for you to talk at work since the night you’d taken him dinner, but you’d managed to have a few short conversations… and the texts that had flown back and forth between the two of you was a completely different story.

It sometimes took him a while to respond, but when you had Tim’s attention, you had his full attention. The flirting had continued in the messages, the fact that you were interested in each other being out in the open a welcome relief.

You hadn’t made any further plans aside from seeing each other at the party, but you had a feeling that it was coming. Tim knew you were off for two weeks, which meant that aside from the actual holidays, your schedule was wide open. I’m not traveling, so that frees up even more.

When you clocked out and headed home to get ready, you spent extra time on yourself, dressing up a little more than you normally would have. Just because. And when you got back to the precinct and stepped inside, you were glad.

There were plenty of people in uniform and in typical work clothes, but the others that were off and in on their free time had dressed nicely, too. You said hello to a few people as you walked in, stopping to talk to David and Amy and complimenting her for organizing everything - but you had a goal.

People were putting their gifts on the desks of the recipients, and after a quick look around told you that Tim was not in the main group of people, you headed for his office.Maybe he just lost track of time.

But his door was closed and locked, and there wasn’t a light on inside. Maybe he isn’t back yet. Your fingers tightened on the package you held, teeth digging into your lower lip as you tried to figure out where to leave your gift that he’d find it. Maybe the tree in the break room. “Rockford and Bales are gone.” Turning, you saw Marty leaning against the wall a few feet behind you. “They got called out to a case earlier today and didn’t come back yet.”

“Oh.” Trying to swallow your disappointment, you held up the wrapped box. “I had Tim for the Secret Santa, and I was trying to leave his gift, but …”

“Yeah, he’s not here.” Marty sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You stepped closer, giving him a quick smile. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll just put this under the tree and let him know he can pick it up next time he’s in.”

“I’ll walk back with you.” He fell into step beside you, and spoke again after a few steps. “I want to apologize.” What? You both stopped, and in surprise, you turned toward him. “I came on pretty strong when I kept asking you out. You said no once, and I shouldn’t have asked again. I didn’t mean to weird you out.”

“It wasn’t weird. It was just … I didn’t want to be mean about saying no, but I really didn’t want to lead you on.” He nodded, and then gave you a smile, extending his hand. “Thank you for your apology.” You took his hand and shook it, smiling back. “And to be completely honest with you, I think asking Anna out for coffee or something would be a good idea.”

“Really?” You nodded as his face lit up. “I didn’t think she… huh.” A few months earlier, watching someone that had been interested in you pivoting so quickly to someone else would have hurt, even if you weren’t actually into them. But this doesn’t. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gestured to the gift you held. “Have you checked for yours yet?”

“No.” You stopped walking as you reached the main room again, the sounds of the party getting louder. “I hope no one took it down to evidence, but since I’m not on shift, I don’t think they would.”

He smiled, nodding. “I hope you find it. And I hope you have a good holiday.”

“You, too.” You separated then, Marty disappearing into the crowd as he called out to one of his fellow officers, and you heading for the tree. His apology had been unexpected but genuine, and you appreciated the effort. Maybe seeing that I was uncomfortable was all he needed.

There were a few gifts under the tree, and as you read through the names, you frowned. Yours wasn’t among them, which either meant that the person who had your name hadn’t arrived yet - or they had taken it down to evidence. Fuck it. I’ll go check later.

You set Tim’s present down in the small pile with the others and then straightened up, letting out a breath. He’d get there when he could; there was no point in focusing on the fact that he hadn’t shown up at the beginning.

But even as you made your way over to where the food table was, part of you was saddened by the fact that if he didn’t make it to the party, there was a chance you wouldn’t see him for two weeks.

You spent the next few hours mingling.

It was nice to associate with your coworkers on down time, and even though some of them came and went briefly as they took breaks or began and ended their shifts, you enjoyed talking to them. You’d interacted with just about everyone in the precinct at one time or another thanks to your position, which meant that people were friendly and knew you by name.

But Tim and his partner still hadn’t arrived by 9:30… and neither had your gift. So you took the elevator down to the evidence locker and stepped into the quiet room, a plate of cookies and a can of Diet Coke in hand.

“Anthony?” You called out to your counterpart as you got closer to the counter. “I brought you cookies before they all got eaten.” He popped up from behind the desk, his curly hair bouncing as he stood.

“Oh, shit! Thank you!” He reached up, removing one of his earbuds. “I could probably go up and hang out for a few minutes, but knowing my luck that’s when someone would need me.” You laughed, sliding the plate and can across the counter. “Am I missing anything good? Any gossip?” He picked up a frosted reindeer, biting one of the antlers off. “Did anyone sneak alcohol in like last year?”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. “No. No alcohol that I could tell. Everyone’s just stuffing themselves with cookies and those little snowball bread things.” He groaned, eyes dropping to the plate. “I couldn’t grab those, though, so if you want one, you’ll have to go up there.” You leaned against the counter. “And no good gossip either. I’ve just been listening to people talk about what they got their kids, or what they hope their husbands and wives got them.”

“Boring.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should go up. I need to get my present anyway.” You nodded, looking around the room.

“Did anyone bring mine down? People have been leaving them on desks and in offices, so I thought…”

“No, you’re the first person I’ve seen in two hours.” He bit into another cookie. “No one brought anything down for you… or for me.” Oh. “It wasn’t upstairs?”

“Nope.” You tapped your fingers on the countertop. “I checked under the tree a couple times, and nothing. I figured people were still coming in, but…” You shrugged. “Maybe my person forgot.”

“There are a few people that were out today.” He pulled the plate toward him and then set it down on the desk behind the counter. “Maybe you had one of them.”

“Maybe.” You looked up at the clock. “But I think the party’s over soon, so if you wanted to go up, you should do it now. That way you can thank whoever got your name before they leave. Unless they already did. And maybe Tim will have…

It hit you then - if Tim and his partner weren’t at the party, and your gift wasn’t at the party, it was possible that one of them had drawn your name. What are the odds? You said goodbye - and Merry Christmas - to Anthony and headed back upstairs.

The first place you checked was the tree. Your gift to Tim was still beneath it, and so were a few others including Annthony’s, but most had been claimed. Still nothing. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled to Tim’s text messages, the most recent one from the previous day. It’s weird that he didn’t say anything about not coming. Or being late, or … You typed one quickly, not pausing before you sent it.

You’re missing the party, Tim. Hope you’re ok.

It was stupid to be concerned; you knew how long it could take to process a crime scene and interview witnesses. If they’d had to go out of town, it would take even longer, and the last thing on his mind would have been the party - or a present. But he needs to have it before tomorrow, or… You tapped your foot on the floor and looked back over at the tree.

People were beginning to file out, saying their goodbyes and making their way toward the door, and you realized that there was no reason for you to stay. It’ll look desperate if I’m just waiting, and who knows if he’ll even come in.

You checked your phone once more - the message to Tim unread - and made your decision. I’ll leave him a note. There were Post-It notes in the breakroom, and you scrawled a message onto one, keeping it brief.

Left a gift for you under the tree.

-- Your Secret Santa

Once it was written, you went back to Tim’s office and stuck the paper to the glass in his door, hoping that it would stay until he found it. That’s all I can do. That done, you headed back to the main space, where the crowd was much smaller than it had been only minutes earlier.

You said your goodbyes, too, laughing with one of the dispatch girls about how you didn’t know what you were going to do with all of your free time, and then with one last look beneath the tree - Tim’s present and his partner’s two of the only few left there - you turned for the door.

The air was damp again as you drove home, but there wasn’t much traffic on the road, which made your trip short. There was still no reply from Tim by the time you were inside and changed into your pajamas, so you plugged your phone in and then curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

You hoped that wherever Tim was and whatever he was doing, he was alright. And you hoped that when he made it into his office, he got your note … and liked your gift.

He was pissed.

There was no other way to put it, and despite the fact that Tim kept his expression even and his hands loose on the steering wheel while he and Bales headed back to the precinct, inside he was seething.

They’d driven out to the crime scene together earlier in the day, and even with Tim’s methodical approach to the job, it had taken hours to wrap - but none of the delays had been his fault. Goddamn Bales and his need to talk to everyone.

He glanced over, eyeing the other man’s lit up phone screen in the passenger seat. “The party’s over.” Bales cleared his throat. “Naomi said to tell you there’s leftovers in the break room fridge, and that the presents are -”

“Of course it’s over.” Tim muttered the words under his breath, reaching up to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “It wouldn’t have been if we’d left when I wanted to.”

“What? I didn’t hear you, Rockford.”

“I said, if we’d left when I wanted to, we could have caught the end of it.” He tightened his grip on the wheel. “And we wouldn’t have to hope someone saved us cookies.” He wondered what you’d thought when he hadn’t showed up. He hoped that you’d still had a good night, and that you weren’t too disappointed that there hadn’t been a gift waiting for you.

By the time they pulled into one of the empty parking spaces in the lot, it was almost midnight, and Tim barely took the time to say goodbye to Bales before he veered off and toward his office. He saw the Post-It from down the hall and sped up to get there faster, wondering if it was from you.

He’d seen your writing before - both in the logbook in the evidence room and on the sheet you’d turned in for your Secret Santa list, and Tim knew immediately that the note on his door was from you. “That means…” His heart thumped almost uncomfortably at the realization that not only had he gotten you for the exchange … but you’d gotten him in return.

He stuck the note into the pocket of his coat and then unlocked his office door, crossing the room to his desk. Your gift was sitting on top of it, neatly wrapped and waiting, and without thinking twice, he picked it up and turned back toward the hallway.

Tim stopped long enough to pick the gift with his name up from beneath the twinkling lights on the tree. There was more writing on the tag, though your name still wasn’t included. But it’s her. He thought about opening it right there, fingers itching to tear the paper off, but Tim stopped himself.

It was late - probably too late, but he didn’t care. Tim set both gifts down onto one of the tables and then pulled his phone out. It was the first time he’d looked at it in hours, and his stomach dropped at the sight of two missed messages from you. The first was from while you were at the party, and the other had come later, and seemed more urgent.

I know you’re busy, but it’s strange that you haven’t even looked at the first message. Please let me know you’re alright.

“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, checking the time. You’d sent the most recent one almost an hour earlier, and he knew, even from very limited time spent with and talking to you, that it meant you were worried. But is it too late to text her back?

He decided moments later that it wasn’t, and after he’d sent the message he stood waiting, phone in hand as he reread the words.

I’m fine. Got stuck at a scene, and just made it back to my office. I’m really sorry I didn’t answer earlier.

He was sorry for more than just not getting your message sooner, but it didn’t seem right to apologize for the other things via text. He ignored Bales calling out his name and just stared at both gifts on the desk, working his lower lip over with his teeth.

It was probably bad idea, and he knew it, but Tim didn’t give himself too long to think before grabbing both gifts again and heading for the doors that led to the parking lot.

You hadn’t replied by the time he parked in front of your place, but he only paused briefly to put his glasses onto the dashboard before striding to your front door, gifts in hand. I can just leave hers here. She’ll get it in the morning. Tim glanced down at the wrapped package, watching as his thumb rubbed over where he’d written your name on the tag. No.

Shifting both gifts to one arm, he raised his hand and knocked three times on the door before taking a step backward, letting out the breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. If you didn’t answer, he’d take it as a sign. She’s probably sleeping. It’s late.

But there was still a light flickering behind the blinds in your window that looked like it was coming from a TV, and he figured that if that was still on, there was a chance you were in the room with it. I hope she is. I hope … fuck.

He shifted back and forth while he waited, contemplating knocking again … and then he heard the sound of the deadbolt turning, followed by the slight creak of the doorknob as it twisted - and then your face peeked through the crack after it opened. “Hel- Tim? What are you doing here?”

You flung the door all the way open, and even though he wanted to answer right away, he couldn’t. Instead, he was stuck on the way you were dressed - more casual than he’d ever seen you in an oversized sweatshirt and joggers, both feet stuffed into slippers. “I…” Get it together, Rockford. “I’m here because I missed the party.” He inched forward, holding up his gift. “And I thought my Secret Santa would want to see me open the gift she got me.”

He watched the expression on your face change, going through at least three different emotions in only a few seconds, and despite his experience in the field, he couldn’t read any of them. Is she mad? “What time is it? I fell asleep after I texted you, and …” You reached up, rubbing at your eyes with both hands. “Shit. Come in, Tim. It’s cold out.”

He stepped into your front hall and you reached around him to pull the door shut, your arm brushing along his side. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“You can.” You stepped back, and he was pleased to see you looked more alert - and there was a glint of happiness in your eyes. “And your coat, too.” You pointed. “There’s a hook on the wall.” And then you held your hands out, your smile growing. “I’ll hold those.” He handed over the gifts and made quick work of removing the long, cream trench coat he liked to wear in cooler weather, and his shoes, looking down long enough to see how they looked next to yours. Stop it. “We can sit in the living room if you want. C’mon.”

He followed you wordlessly, one hand rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. There was a blanket balled up on one end of the couch, and when you reached over to lift it after setting the wrapped gifts onto your coffee table, he finally spoke, swallowing hard before he started.

“I shouldn’t have come. It’s late, and you didn’t answer. But I thought you seemed concerned, and I wanted … I got back to the precinct and saw the note on my office door.” You straightened up, crossing your arms and pressing your lips together as you stared at him.

“I was worried. I knew you were at a crime scene, but it seemed… I don’t know. It seemed really late. And you said you were looking forward to the party, so I thought it was weird that -”

“I was looking forward to giving you your gift.” He pointed at the table. “I wanted to see you open it.” Your lips parted as your eyes moved away from his face and to the table, arms dropping to your sides.

“We got each other.” You laughed, closing your eyes. “When my gift didn’t show up tonight, and you and Bales were out, I thought … I thought maybe it was one of you. But I helped you shop, Tim. I didn’t ask for a hat, and that’s what you bought, and -”

“You picked out a hat for my niece.” He shrugged, taking a couple steps closer. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“No you’re not.” You moved in his direction, the smile still on your lips. “You did it more than once. When we were in the break room, and when you were in the evidence locker, and -”

“I did.” Tim cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “But it was for a good reason, and it meant I got to spend an afternoon with you.” He put a hand on his hip, gesturing with one finger on his other one. “But you lied to me, too. You told me that…” He trailed off as you shook your head slowly, your smile widening.

“I never lied to you. I just told you nothing about who I had to buy a gift for.” You were right, and both of you knew it. “But yes, Tim. I picked your name. And after spending time with you last weekend, I thought maybe …” You looked away, and he caught the uncertainty on your face as you chewed on your lower lip, eyes on the front window. “Fuck it.”

You moved before he understood fully that it was happening, closing the distance between you and reaching up with both hands to touch his jaw, guiding his mouth toward yours. Holy shit, she’s…

The kiss was brief - more of a touch of your lips to his than anything else - and then you broke away, taking two steps backward and covering your mouth with one hand, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have … shit, Tim. I’m -”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Tim reached out, his fingers closing around your elbow. “But I think we can do better than that.” I know we can. He pulled you toward him, his other arm winding around you, and that time when you kissed, it was Tim that initiated it… and he didn’t pull away immediately.

You didn’t know what you were more surprised by: the fact that Tim had shown up at your house after midnight with two gifts in hand, or that the two of you were standing in front of your couch kissing. It’s definitely the kissing, you realized as it continued, his lips soft against yours, one hand moving slowly up the center of your back.

And when you curled your fingers against the material of his shirt, the soft fabric wrinkling against your palms, you were certain of it.

When Tim backed off to breathe, he didn’t go far, his exhale washing over your cheek and his forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“I have too.” You shivered, the admission easier than you’d imagined would be. “I should have kissed you in your office last week.”

“Nope.” He chuckled, the sound low. “I’m glad you didn’t.” He lowered his hands to your waist, looking into your eyes. “It was worth the wait.” That made you smile, and even though you could have spent the rest of the night standing and staring into Tim’s eyes, there was something else for you to do, too.

“Do you want to open your present now?” You straightened your shoulders, taking a slow breath. “It’s late and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“I do.” He nodded, the palm of his hand moving back and forth over the elastic at your waist. “And I am. But …” Leaning in, he kissed you again, that one accompanied with a smile. “A couple more minutes won’t hurt.”

It was almost unbelievable that you’d gone from being unsure that your feelings for Tim were reciprocated to having him in your living room in the middle of the night with his hands on you and the feel of his kiss fresh in your mind. But we’re here and he’s … I like this. “I guess not.” You pushed him away and then frowned, thinking. “Can I get you anything? I’m sure you didn’t remember to eat, and I’ve got stuff to drink, and -”

“I’m fine.” He waved you off and then held out a hand, gesturing to your couch. “Want to sit?”

You did, taking a seat beside him, and you were pleased when Tim didn’t leave much space between you, instead settling in so that your thighs were pressed together. “You can open yours first. My house, my rules.” He nudged you with his elbow but reached for his gift, turning it over in both hands before beginning to unwrap it. You watched anxiously, unsure about your choice of gifts. It’ll be fine. “Your list was … well.”

He hummed, pulling the tape back and then taking the lid of the box off to expose the tissue paper inside. “You wrapped everything separately?” He looked over, brows raised. “You didn’t have to do that.” Shrugging, you kept your lips pressed together.

He opened the card first, which included the first gift, a $5 scratch off ticket. That got a laugh out of Tim, who held the ticket between two fingers as he scanned the text of the card - and your admission that you were his Secret Santa, and that while you hoped he won something on the lottery ticket, you didn’t want it to mean that you never saw him again. He set both things down onto the table before reaching over to set his hand on your knee and squeeze, thanking you. “You’re not done yet, Rockford.”

He went for the larger of the two gifts next, picking it up and tearing through the paper to reveal the socks, which got another laugh out of him at the same time you started speaking.

“You said that your feet get cold, and I thought they were funny, so…”

“They are.” He rubbed at his eyes with two fingers, his smile wide. “They’re perfect.” Tim set the socks down and then reached for the final gift, moving the larger box back to the table before he opened the flat box and peered into it. “You got me tickets to see Die Hard?”

You couldn’t read his tone - he was surprised, sure, but you couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or an annoyed one. Buying the tickets was a risk, and you’d known that. But it’s the main gift, so if he doesn’t like it… “They were sold out, though. How… how’d you get them?”

“I ordered them online the day we talked about it, and then went to the theater and printed them out.” You clasped your hands together in your lap. “You mentioned that you liked the movie, and I figured that even if you worked tomorrow during the day, you could go to the movie at night, and -”

He said your name and then reached over, his arm going back around you to urge you closer. “Thank you. It’s perfect. I’m supposed to be off tomorrow, and after today, I’m definitely taking the whole day.”

“Good.” You rested your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes droop shut. “You deserve it.”

“And you,” he whispered, leaning forward and reaching for the second gift. “Deserve to open your present now.” You took it from him and then sat all the way up again, eyeing the tag.

“It’s supposed to say Secret Santa, Tim. You wrote -”

“I wanted you to know it was from me.” He cleared his throat. “Open it.” You pulled the paper away, making note of the fact that he’d done an excellent job wrapping it, which didn’t come as a surprise.

And when you pulled the box top off and pushed tissue paper to the side, it was your turn to laugh at the sight of the individually wrapped gifts. “We had the same idea.” You lifted the pair of socks from the box, ripping the paper off and turning them over to look at both sides, biting back laughter. I did like the dinosaurs the most.

“My place does get cold.” He said your name, voice quiet. “And I figured that if I had you over to watch a movie with me, you’d want something warm to wear.” Wait, what?

“Is that an invitation to your house?” He nodded. “So you planned on asking me to… fuck, Tim. That would have been enough of a gift to -”

“I had a limit I needed to spend.” He wrinkled his nose, and you were thrilled to see that he was as amused - and relieved - at your response to his admission. “And there’s other stuff in that box, too. So keep opening.”

You reached for the second item, lifting it and sucking in a breath when you realized what it was. “This wasn’t on my list.”

“It wasn’t. When I was down going through that evidence that last time, I heard you complaining that the ice in your drink melted too fast, so…” He pointed. “That thing’s supposed to keep that from happening for longer and keep your cups or water bottles from leaving rings on tables, too. I guessed on the size, so I hope it’s alright.”

You didn’t know what to say. He was observant; that wasn’t in question. But you were stunned that in the short time he’d spent with you, he’d learned enough to know what you’d like, and what was useful. “It’s great.”

“There’s something in it.” He pointed. “Last gift.” You peeked into the fabric and pulled out a gift card, turning your head toward Tim when you saw what it was. The coffee place I like. “Now you can try it out and see if it works.”

“I’ll do that next time I go.” You tucked the card back inside and then put everything into the box before leaning forward to put it all on the table. “Look at me, Tim.” He did, shifting his body so that he could face you. You didn’t hesitate when you reached forward and took his hands, thumbs gliding over his knuckles. “Thank you. You put a lot of thought into that, and I appreciate it.”

“You did, too.” He narrowed his eyes briefly and then nodded. “Do you have plans tomorrow?” The question caught you off guard, and it took you a few seconds to answer, telling him no. Why? What does he want? “Do you want to come see a movie with me?” He jerked his chin toward the table. “I’ve got an extra ticket.”

“That’s not why I bought two. I figured you had someone that you’d want to take, and -”

“I do.” He tightened the hold on your hands. “You.” Tim licked his lips, the tip of his tongue appearing between them briefly. “And maybe we can get a late dinner afterward?”

“I’m off for the next two weeks.” You smiled and he did, too, the expression pushing his cheeks upward and deepening the creases at the outside corners of his eyes. Fuck he’s handsome. “That means there is no late for me.”

“Good.” He mumbled the word as he leaned in, Tim’s eyes drooping shut. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

That time when he kissed you, his lips were parted, giving him the opportunity to draw your lower one between them. He sucked gently on it and the pressure made you gasp, Tim using that as an opening to flick his tongue against it before he bit down, the drag of his teeth making you groan.

“You keep doing that and I’m not going to want you to leave, Detective.” You lifted one hand, pushing your fingers through the hair at his temples and humming at the softness. “In fact,” you continued, sighing as you kissed him again. “I already don’t.”

“I’m here as long as you want me to be.” He spoke quietly, Tim’s voice low and full of need. “Your house, you can kick me out whenever y-”

You had no intention of kicking him out. You didn’t want him to leave, and if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t want to let him go, and when you tugged on his hair and twisted your fingers into his shirt, urging him to kiss you again, you hoped that he got the hint.

There was no hesitation on Tim’s part then; he met you open-mouthed, slipping his tongue past his lips to meet yours. At the first taste of him, you knew that you were done, and were almost angry at yourself for waiting so long to make a move with him. Because he wants this as much as I do.

He brought a hand up to the back of your neck, fingers curling around it to hold you steady, and when it became necessary for you to separate, you were both breathing hard. “Well, shit.” He smiled, eyes bright. “I could get used to doing that.”

“Good.” You repeated his words from a few minutes earlier. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #detective tim rockford #christmas story #hallmark christmas 2024 #to: you from: santa #tim rockford masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #writing #merge mansion #merge mansion fic #part 2

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something-tofightfor · 9 days ago

Text

To: You, From: Santa (1)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,952

Summary: Participating in the office Secret Santa exchange shouldn't be nervewracking ... but when Tim Rockford is involved, that changes.

Rating: M, just for language though.

Author's Note:

I meant to have this done for Christmas in July, but didn't... so have my annual cheesy Hallmark Christmas story for actual Christmas instead. Also, it was supposed to be like 6 k max, and now it's pushing 17. whoops.

This is not connected to Black Days. Reader works in Tim's precinct, but not as a fellow officer/detective. I have no idea how the actual evidence rooms work, so suspend disbelief here a little when it comes to chain of custody, please and thank you.

Part 2 is completed and scheduled to post on Wednesday, December 18.

Thanks for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

He was paid to figure things out, but Detective Tim Rockford was stumped when it came to choosing a gift.

He’d happily joined the department’s Secret Santa exchange, filling out the form with his name and his interests along with a few gift suggestions - just like everyone else. And he’d hoped that whatever name he’d drawn would be a simple buy - a gift card or a pair of thick socks or even a bottle of wine or chocolates, like it was every year.

But the moment he’d unfolded his chosen name, Tim had known that things wouldn’t be that easy. Because he hadn’t drawn Betty in accounting or David in dispatch. It wasn’t as simple as getting his partner’s name and cutting the season’s gift buying number down by one.

Instead, Tim had drawn your name … and that was a problem - which meant that he’d need to take drastic measures to solve it.

Your job was typically an easy one, with long lulls between in person interactions.

As an evidence officer for the police department precinct, you had it good. It was a lot of paperwork, but it was easy, and it meant that you could zone out and listen to music for the majority of your shift. It was much better than the last assignment you’d had, and despite the difficult situations many of the people that came to see you were in, they were usually pleasant enough.

Especially Tim Rockford.

He had a reputation for being a hard-ass, but whenever he came down to see you, he was nothing but friendly. You assumed that it had to do with the fact that without you - and your help - his job would have been much more difficult, but you liked to pretend that that wasn’t the case.

You also liked to think about what it would be like to see him in normal circumstances.

You imagined sitting in the courtyard with him, talking about things that had nothing to do with police work or evidence, his glasses discarded on the table beside him as he leaned in closer. Other times, you let yourself daydream about seeing him at a bar or a restaurant, or even a store, and the two of you conversing without a time limit.

But in reality, you’d never said more than a few words at a time to him outside of work requirements - nothing more in-depth than a hey, how’s it going? or a have a good weekend, get some sleep. Because if there was one thing you knew about Detective Tim Rockford, it was that when he was at work, he was focused.

It was why he had the second highest close rate in the county. It was why other departments and divisions turned to him for help, sending over files and evidence that you needed to check in and out to him. It was one of the reasons why you’d chosen to admire him from afar for the year that you’d worked with him.

You heard the rumors about his dating life, because the other women in the department liked to gossip. In the rare moments you were up on the main level of the building, you’d glimpsed him interacting with other officers and employees, his lips quirked into a small smile as his attention was focused on them. You had a feeling that he could truly turn on the charm when necessary, and while part of you was very interested in finding out exactly what being the focus of that felt like, you knew that it was probably a terrible idea at the same time.

So you kept to yourself for the majority of your day, ensuring that the evidence logs were organized and everything was accounted for.

You talked to the people that came down for various reasons, and helped them find things when it was necessary.

You did your job and did it well, the praise coming in emailed memos from your bosses and coworkers, and in the form of treats like cups of good coffee and snacks from some of your favorite local places left at your window or handed directly to you across the counter.

It made the days go faster, and it gave you a chance to get to know some of the men and women that relied on you at the same time. Which meant that it didn’t surprise you when Amy, one of the dispatch girls, came up to you in the break room one day just after Thanksgiving, shaking a small box back and forth.

You were thrilled to participate in the Secret Santa exchange, and looked forward to shopping for whoever you picked from the remaining names - until you unfolded the paper and saw familiar handwriting scrawled across the different sections.

It was just your luck that out of about 50 possible matches, you’d pulled Tim Rockford’s name.

You had one headphone in and were scrolling through your phone, a half eaten bag of chips on the table in front of you when you heard his voice. “Can I sit?” Glancing up, your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Tim Rockford standing just beside your table, a grease-spotted paper bag in one hand. “All the other tables are full.”

“Sure.” Nodding, you gestured to the chair in front of him. “I’m almost done anyway, so you’ll have it to yourself soon.” You still had nearly 20 minutes before you needed to be back downstairs, but the truth was that you didn’t know if you trusted yourself to be in his presence for that long, or if you’d be able to make coherent conversation with him if he was interested in talking.

Because that day, Tim was a little more disheveled than usual, his hair messy and tie loosened so that the top button of his shirt could be undone. You liked the way it looked - probably a little too much - and didn’t want what would likely be the longest conversation you’d ever had ruined by your awkwardness about the peek of skin at his throat.

He unpacked the bag, pulling out a white container that you recognized as from the preferred Chinese restaurant for most of the department. It was followed by a small plastic tub of wonton soup. “This is probably the first time in weeks I’ve gotten to eat while my food’s still the right temperature.”

“Yeah?” You pulled the earbud out, sliding it back into the case and snapping it shut. “No cases to crack?”

“We actually just wrapped one up,” he started to speak while he opened the container, dumping in the bag of crispy noodles that had come with it. “The Boulton case? That old lady who -”

“Oh, the one that killed her husband all those years ago?” Tim noded, carefully stirring the soup before lifting a spoonful to his lips. “It’s done? I wondered why you hadn’t come to visit me in the evidence room lately.”

“It’s done.” He confirmed with a nod, eyeing you over the rims of his glasses. “Made the final arrest this morning, and now we wait for the trial.”

“Congrats, Detective.” You raised your drink in salute, giving him a smile. “That had the whole department stumped.”

“It did. We were all going in fucking circles.” He chewed, nodding as he narrowed his eyes and looked at you thoughtfully. “And there’s plenty more for me to work on, but I decided …” He leaned in, grinning. “Fuck it, I’m taking the rest of the day to myself.”

It was officially the longest conversation that you’d had with Tim, but you’d already learned something valuable to you - and your search for the right gift for him. And it’s got to do with his food preferences. “And yet you’re still here, eating take out, and -”

“I’m observing.” He wrinkled his nose. “I have to figure out what to get my Secret Santa, and I’m not going to do that by going home.” He pointed at the door, shaking his head. “I’ve already done my rounds and talked to a few people, asked a couple questions.”

“Who do you have?” Leaning back in your chair, you cocked your head to the side. “Maybe I can help. I’m in here a lot and -”

“I can’t tell you that.” He took a bite of rice, rolling his eyes. “Defeats the whole purpose of a secret Santa, hmm?” It did, he was correct, but you’d still had to try. “Who do you have?”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling.” Eating one of the chips, you scowled at him. “It’s only fair.” Plus I want to see if I can figure something out for you that isn’t a gift card or a magazine subscription. He laughed again, returning to his food. “Why don’t you just get one of the things they asked for? We all filled out three suggestions, so that makes it simple.”

“I’m a detective.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, staring at you. “I should be able to figure out something that’s not a standard $25 gift.”

“I have faith in you.” You finished your drink, twisting the cap back onto the bottle and setting it down. “I’ve seen the way you go through evidence. And you’ve still got like two and a half weeks.”

“I do.” He sighed, rubbing a hand against his jaw. “And now that I’m not thinking about this case 25/8, maybe I’ll have time to figure it out.” That made you laugh, and after a few seconds Tim joined you, the sound of it filling your chest with warmth. “At least tell me this.” He crossed his arms and then tapped his finger a few times against his bicep. “Are you buying them something that they put on the list?”

“I hope not.” Giving him a onceover, you shrugged. “Nobody puts personal things on these damn lists, though. It’s all ‘candy’ or ‘a gift card’ or ‘fuzzy socks’ or ‘lottery tickets’.” You checked the time, sighing as you realized your break was almost over. Get one more question in. “What did you put on your list, Tim?”

He pressed his lips together and then reached up, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table before he rubbed at his eyes. “Lottery tickets, a gift card to the grocery store by my house and the first throw blanket that came up when I searched Amazon because my feet get cold when I lay on my couch and watch movies.” You tried to hold back your laugh and failed, because even though you’d known that those things were on his list, hearing him say them was amusing. “I know. It’s a shitty list, but me telling my family what I want is just as bad.”

“You just want to win the lottery so you can quit your job.” He chuckled, his smile soft and his deep brown eyes glittering in the fluorescent lighting. No one should look that fucking handsome in this lighting. No one.

“But if I quit my job, I won’t have lunch breaks like this one to look forward to.” You sighed, pushing to your feet and gathering your trash so that you had an excuse not to meet his eyes. He’s not flirting. He can’t be. “Time to go back?”

“Yeah, I’m going to turn into a pumpkin unless I get back to the evidence locker on time.” He snorted, poking his fork into the container again, though he didn’t look away from you. “Have a good rest of your relaxing day, Detective Rockford.”

He assured you he would, nodding once before you turned away and headed for the door. You were proud of yourself for holding an actual conversation and not making a fool of yourself. You’d even made him laugh without trying too hard. All in all, things could have gone much worse.

The only problem was that that single conversation had turned your manageable crush on Tim into a full-blown interest, and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

Over the next few days, Tim turned his attention to other cases, painstakingly making his way through information that he’d previously collected and trying to see if there were things he’d missed. He found a new clue here and there, adding information to the files and making a few phone calls to talk to witnesses and others that had been involved. He even made a couple appointments to meet with people, scheduling them out so that he had time to prepare.

But he hadn’t made his way down to the evidence locker at any point, because there’d been no need to. And that disappointed him, because after the conversation you’d had in the break room, Tim wanted to talk to you more.

He’d gotten no good ideas from you for your gift, which was to be expected. That didn’t mean he hadn't learned anything, though.

The short conversation across the table had shown him that you had a sense of humor. It told him that you could keep up with his jokes, and that you weren’t afraid to speak your mind. It also told him that your face lit up when you were amused, and that you made eye contact when you spoke directly to people, even if it took you a few seconds to warm up.

It would have been easy enough for him to ask you out. He knew from others in the office that you weren’t seriously seeing anyone, and that you’d moved to the area after a long term relationship had ended. He’d also looked through your social media for more clues about who you were outside of work, and what he’d learned, he liked.

You liked reading. You liked movies. You liked coffee and animals, and had a penchant for using emojis in your comment replies to family and friends online. He’d also learned that you were planning on taking almost two weeks of vacation at the end of the year, beginning just after the holiday party and timed so that you had both Christmas and New Year’s off.

It would mean that for those two weeks, he’d be dealing with Anthony if he needed access to your storeroom or anything in it, and at the realization, Tim’s nose wrinkled. That’s enough of a reason for me to request time off then, too. He didn’t, though, only entertaining the thought for long enough to consider the fact that his Lieutenant had said they’d be short staffed over the holidays as it was. And so I stay here.

He replayed your conversation over and over in his mind while at work and at home. By the time he actually needed visit to the evidence room again, he was almost desperate for a second one, which was out of character for him.

You weren’t at the window when the elevator doors opened on your floor, and so Tim did the only thing that he could think to do: he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, trying to peer around the corner and see if maybe you were down one of the aisles. It wouldn’t be unattended. No way.

He was right. When you appeared a few seconds later, two boxes in hand, he let out a breath in relief, pushing away from the wall and heading toward you. “Afternoon.” He nodded twice, settling his hands on the countertop. “I’m sure this comes as no surprise, but I need your help.”

“Of course you do. Why else would you be down here?” You set the boxes down and then picked up the phone, dialing out. “Give me two seconds.” He waited, keeping his eyes on you as you completed the call and let someone know that you had their evidence ready, and all they needed to do was come down and sign for it. You looked tired, and when Tim saw you stifle a yawn, he briefly wondered what it was that had kept you from sleeping soundly. None of my business, though. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“Need to take a look at some evidence from an open case.” You nodded, clicking on your computer screen and then looking expectantly at him. “Malwes. From about three months ago.” You nodded, typing, and then a few seconds later, you tapped on the screen, your smile widening.

“Got it. Are you signing it out, or just using the room to go through it?” He’d planned on taking it back up to his office, since the main thing he needed to look at was a logbook. But unless he was mistaken, there was a hopeful tone to your voice. Does she want me to stay?

“I’ll stay down here.” He scratched the side of his neck. “Can’t hurt.” You tapped a few more times and then reached for your sign-out sheet, sliding it across to Tim. He took the pen from you and scrawled his name in the right space, watching as you initialed it and entered the time before unlocking the door.

He entered the room and once the door was shut - and locked - behind him, you spun away from the counter and motioned for him to follow you. “Should be right at the end of the shelf. I remember seeing that name the last time I was in here.” He eyed you as you walked ahead of him, confidently leading him down the aisle before reaching for the box and handing it over. “See? I was right.”

“You were.” Your fingers brushed against his when he took the evidence from you, but you didn’t bat an eye, instead just grinning before you pointed back at the lobby, letting him know where you were headed. No, I want to see you. “You want me to sit out there with you? I didn’t know if you’d want me to hang out in here.”

“If you don’t mind.” Sighing, you lowered your head. “It’s really dumb, but the guy I just called to come get files? He’s … asked me out a couple times, and I figure maybe if someone else is sitting there, he won’t do it again.” He felt his jaw lock into place, and Tim watched your posture as you spoke, trying to figure out just how bothered you were. “He’s not being a creep about it or anything, but just hasn’t gotten the hint yet.”

“Of course.” He set the box down and then slid into one of the seats while you headed back for the counter, leaning against it to look over at him. “So you don’t want to go out with the guy?”

“No.” You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. “I just don’t think we’d have anything in common. He’s not my type.” And what is your type? He watched you for a few seconds longer and then hummed in agreement before turning to his work.

He glanced over at you a few times over the following few minutes, watching as you sipped from a plastic cup that was half filled with ice and some sort of liquid. He smiled when he heard you grumble about the ice never lasting. Hmm. That’s helpful. But it wasn’t until the elevator doors opened that he truly let his attention waver.

Tim halfheartedly flipped through the pages of the book as he listened to you talk to the other person there - a younger officer named Marty. You were friendly, though you made no attempt to engage the other man in additional conversation, Not like she did with me. When you stepped away from the counter to head back into the file room for a different box, Tim finally looked all the way up, meeting Marty’s eyes and giving him a single nod.

“Didn’t see you back there, Detective.” He sounded disappointed, and Tim was barely able to hide his reaction, biting the inside of his cheek to conceal his smirk. “Decided to visit the evidence cave today, too?”

“I did.” He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “Sorry I’m using the table.” The younger man waved him off, rising onto his tiptoes to peer around the corner and look for you. “Which case are you working on?”

“Drug bust with weapons. I need to check some numbers and make sure one of the serials matches the -”

‘Here.” You appeared again, holding up a small bag. “Not in a box.” You stepped back as Marty began to rifle through what was in front of him, occasionally scribbling something down into a notepad that he’d pulled from his pocket. He slid everything back toward you when he finished, and you marked down the time in your ledger, tucking that back beneath the counter as you gathered everything up to carry back to the shelves.

“Got any plans this weekend?” Seriously? “There’s a movie theater at the mall that’s rereleasing a bunch of holiday movies between now and Christmas, and this Saturday’s Edward Scissorhands. Tickets usually sell out pretty quick, so I thought I’d ask now.”

“Saturday? I …” You sighed, and Tim could see that you were trying to come up with an excuse. She shouldn’t need to. “I’m off work, but -”

“She’s going to help me out.” Tim cleared his throat, gesturing with one hand. “I’m stumped with my Secret Santa gift, and need someone to tag along while I shop.” Marty frowned, disappointment evident on his features for a few seconds. Good. “I figured we’d go later in the day and grab dinner as a thank you for her help, so…” He finally looked over at you, unsure of what to expect - and was floored with the gratitude he saw in your expression.

“Didn’t they give you like …three ideas for gifts?” Marty tucked the notebook away, frowning. “Just buy something from that list. That’s what I did.” Of course it is.

“I could do that.” Tim nodded, adjusting his glasses. “But my giftee only gave me one idea, and it was a hat, and I have no idea what to get.” He paused, thinking. “What other movies are they showing?”

“I…” Marty was flustered by the question, but recovered quickly. “I don’t know. Gremlins I think. Die Hard. National Lampoon. Elf. They -”

“Die Hard’s one of my favorites.” Tim laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “People say it’s not a Christmas movie, but it definitely is.”

“I agree.” You spoke up, the attention of both men immediately on you. “My family had that argument a lot “ Tim’s smile widened while Marty’s expression went even more sour, the second man sighing loudly. “And I appreciate you asking, Marty, but even if I wasn’t going with Tim, the answer still would have been no, just like it was last time. I’m not trying to send any mixed signals here.”

“That’s fine.” Marty shrugged. “Just trying to be nice. I won’t ask again.” He spun away from the counter and headed back for the elevator, you and Tim staring after him.

But neither of you spoke until the doors closed, and it was you that did first, covering your face with both hands and muttering good, you jackass. He shifted in his chair, angling his body toward you, but Tim kept quiet, waiting to see if you’d say anything else. “Thank you, Tim.” Lowering your hands, you shook your head. “You didn’t have to say anything. I just … I don’t think he liked being turned down in front of someone, and -”

“No is a complete sentence.” He shrugged. “You’ve said no before, he shouldn’t keep asking.”

“Some people just don’t get the hint.” Biting down on your lower lip, you gestured to the boxes and bag. “I’m going to put these away. If anyone comes down, can you tell them I’ll be right back?”

“Sure.” He watched you go, chest rising and falling as he replayed the previous few minutes. It had been a kneejerk reaction to make up plans that involved the two of you, but your reaction hadn’t been what he was expecting. Does she actually want to go with me?

No one came down while you were gone, and when you reappeared, Tim looked over at you, stunned to see that you were nervous. “I don’t know if you really meant that you needed my help on Saturday, but I don’t have plans.” You paused, and he watched as your fingers flexed, curling in toward your palms. “So if you want -”

“I meant it.” His heart thumped in his chest, Tim fighting to keep his smile from erupting. You have no idea how much I meant it. “Shopping and dinner. But only if you want to.” He jerked his thumb toward the elevator. “If you tell me no, I’ll accept it.”

There was a silence that stretched for a few seconds between you, and for a moment, Tim wondered if you were going to turn him down. But then you grinned, nodding your head and dropping back into your chair without taking your eyes off of him.

“I bet you don’t hear no too often, Detective.” Arching a brow, you continued. “And you’re certainly not going to hear it from me.”

It was just an afternoon of shopping and a quick dinner, so you didn’t know why you were so anxious about it.

Tim had offered to pick you up because of limited parking options, and you’d agreed but that only made it worse. It meant that you’d be in the car with him for almost a full hour between the two destinations, which meant filling those rides with small talk.

You were almost certain that he was interested in you - at least physically - based solely on the way he looked at you. His brown eyes focused on your face when you spoke, though you’d seen him eyeing you almost greedily when he thought you hadn’t been looking. It didn’t bother you in the way that it did when other men leered, though. Because you believed Tim when he said he’d respect your decisions, and his disgust with Marty’s behavior hadn’t been for show.

But knowing that he reciprocated your interest was one thing - and finding the right way to act on it was another.

He pulled up a few minutes before he’d planned to, and when you stepped out to meet him, you wrinkled your nose at the fine mist that was falling. Pulling your hood up, you made a dash for the car, surprised to see that Tim had exited his side and was moving toward yours. “No, Tim! It’s gross out, stay inside.” You waved him off, laughing as you flung the door open and slid into the front passenger seat, Tim getting back in next to you and groaning.

When you looked over, you laughed harder at the sight of the lenses of his glasses, which were covered in water droplets. “I was just trying to be nice.” He grumbled the words out as he reached for a cloth to wipe them clean. “Hi.” He looked over at you once they were situated on his nose again. “You ready?”

“Hi.” He was even more handsome up close and in the confines of his car, the interior of it almost cozy. It’s warm and it smells like his cologne. “Thanks for coming to get me, Tim.”

He nodded in reply and then pulled away from the curb, staying quiet until you were on the main road. “I thought we’d go to the mall. There’s a lot of stores there, so I can look for a couple things that aren’t for my Secret Santa, too, if that’s alright.” He looked over at you, waiting for your nod. “And then we can pick somewhere in the mall or around it for dinner, as long as you’re not sick of me by then.”

“I might be sick of the crowds, but I don’t think I’ll be sick of you after a couple hours.” You nudged him with your elbow. “I hope we find something today.”

“Me too.” He sighed. “I’m running out of days off.” Laughing quietly, you settled into the seat, briefly closing your eyes as you inhaled. If the first few minutes were setting the tone, the rest of the day was going to be fun.

You made small talk until you parked at the mall, choosing an entrance via one of the department stores instead of the main one. It worked to your advantage, and when you were inside, you and Tim stepped off to the right of the doors, making a gameplan. He wanted to go into four stores, but they were in different sections of the mall, which meant that you’d pass others on the way.

“You said you’re looking for a hat?” He nodded as you started to walk through the store, Tim walking to your left. “You won’t tell me who, but can you at least tell me if it’s for a man or a woman? Or if you’re looking for something universal? I need something to go on if I’m going to help you.”

“It’s for a woman.” He eyed a rack of clothes as you passed it, and then turned his head to look at you. “But I don’t want to buy anything over the top. She wrote in a color preference.” That helps. But if she said that much, he could have picked something. “Blue, green, or black were her top three colors.” You nodded, thinking. “What about you? Do you need to look for your gift while we’re here?”

“No, actually.” You stopped to browse a rack of hats and gloves, flipping through piles that you were certain had been neatly folded earlier in the day. “I took care of mine earlier this week.” Looking up, you gave him a broad smile. “Ordered it online, and -”

“What did you get?” He moved to stand next to you, picking up a black hat and then making a face when he saw a giant bow on the side of it. “Was it something on their list?”

“Nope.” You held up a hat in hunter green, Tim reaching over to take it from you to look at the design on the interior fabric. “And I’m not telling. But it’s something for them to use and not just to have.”

Part of you hated teasing him, but you knew that once he opened his gift, he’d immediately understand your clues. I just hope he likes it. And that he’s not … that he doesn’t assume anything. “I could interrogate you.” You both stepped away from the display, Tim once again walking beside you. “I’ve been told that I’m pretty good at it.”

The thought made you weak in the knees, and though you wanted to believe you could handle his questions, deep down you knew that it was more likely you’d cave almost immediately under the intensity of his gaze. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m sure you are.” You exited the department store and stepped into the mall, the sound of Christmas music and an assortment of chatter from the other shoppers loud in your ears. “And I’m sure you could, but that wouldn’t be fair, Tim.”

“Probably not.” He laughed, stepping closer to you to get out of the way while a group of teenagers passed in the opposite direction.”Do they always move in packs?”

“They do.” You pointed at a second group, which was gathered around a pair of benches in the center aisle. “Gives them more confidence for when they’re being annoying little shits.” That made Tim laugh again, and you were pleased to realize that he didn’t move away even when the crowd thinned, giving both of you more space.

“It’s been so long since I was a damn high schooler. I must be out of practice.” He guided you toward another store with a single touch to the back of your arm. “And speaking of high schoolers, I have to pick up a game for my nephew. It should be waiting for us.” You liked the way that sounded - us - but didn’t say that out loud. It would be weird.

There was a short line at the counter, and while he waited in it, you looked around, trying to keep yourself busy. It also gave you time to think - and to process Tim’s behavior in the little while you’d been together. The touching was new, and so was the joking, at least to the extent of it that day. So would it be ok if I touched him back? There was no way you’d do anything as bold as taking his hand or putting your arm around him, but looking through shelves and displays meant you’d be near enough to rest your hand on his back, or even squeeze his arm to get his attention.

It was silly, and in some ways as juvenile as the behavior of the teenagers you’d seen, but there were plenty of factors to consider when it came to being forward with Tim. Namely our jobs. You could have just asked if he was interested. You could have told him you were, just to see what happened. You could turn up the charm and flirt enough to let him know you were open to hooking up with him. But I don’t know him well enough to begin to guess what he’s thinking. So I won’t. I’ll just -

“Got it.” He stood in front of you, holding up a bag. “Ready to brave the crowds again?” You nodded in agreement, giving him a onceover as you did, and letting your gaze linger - just for a few seconds - on his face.

For someone as perceptive as Tim, you decided that subtlety was the way to go - because if he caught it, then it meant that he was watching you just as closely.

He was almost certain that you were flirting with him, but he didn’t know what you wanted him to do about it.

There was a chance that it was just because for the first time, you were together outside of the precinct. He was getting to see you outside of work, to talk to you about whatever came up and without the end of a lunch break or the approach of someone else that needed one of you looming.

And you’d been staring at him occasionally, especially when you’d thought he was otherwise occupied. The truth was that he liked it, and it had been a little while since the feeling things out stage of a friendship had excited him.

He thought that if he asked you point blank if you were into him, you’d answer honestly. He also had a feeling that if he made his interest in you known, you’d respond well to it. But if she doesn’t, then … it complicates things. It would make working with you awkward, and it had the potential to make you feel uncertain about him and his intentions. The fact that he’d driven you to the mall was another consideration, because he didn’t want you to feel trapped. So we’ll just do this.

You made your way through the mall, looking into niche stores as well as ones that sold winter clothing, and Tim was enamored with the fact that you took shopping seriously, even when it was for things he was looking for.

He had no intention of buying you a hat, and was actually searching for one based on his niece’s preferences. But being near the hats also put the two of you close to the other cold-weather accessories, and that was helpful. He watched the things you looked at, making note of the ones you picked up to take a closer look - a pair of gloves compatible with a touch screen in soft gray, a fringed scarf that had a pocket near each end for you to stick your hands in, and a slouchy hat that you contemplated trying on but then decided not to.

You tried to stay focused, though, redirecting the your attention to him and asking more questions about his shopping goals … but you managed to sneak a few more personal ones in there, too. He answered them, being mindful of oversharing, but also found an opportunity to ask a few of his own in at the same time.

He found out more about your holiday plans, and about your vacation time. He learned what you’d already bought in the way of gifts for your family and friends. And even though it was potentially overstepping, he decided to ask you the most personal thing he’d mentioned that day while the two of you stopped to take a break, planting yourselves at one of the food court tables with drinks.

“Do you have anyone special to buy a gift for this year?” He worded it specifically to see what type of answer you gave him, and to Tim’s relief, you didn’t disappoint.

“Do you mean a guy?” He nodded, eyes locked with yours. “No, I don’t make it a habit of buying gifts for men that I go out on one date with before deciding not to see them again.” You removed your coat as you talked, draping it over the back of your chair. “I broke up with my long term boyfriend about a year ago, and ended up having to move. That’s why I wound up working this job.”

“That’s a long time.” You rolled your eyes, sipping through your straw while you shrugged. “Nothing since?”

“Nothing worth talking about.” Pushing your drink to the side, you linked your fingers together and narrowed your eyes. “But since you brought it up … if a year’s a long time to be single, what about you? People talk, Tim, and nobody’s talked about you having a girlfriend in the time I’ve been there.”

“Dating’s shit with my hours.” He dragged his thumb over the top of his cup, thinking. “It’s unpredictable. Women don’t like that.” He thought of the arguments he’d had with the woman he’d most recently dated, wincing at the memory of her accusations of feeling ignored. “I’ve tried, but nothing lasts. My Secret Santa gift will be the only gift I get this year for a woman I’m not related to.” You laughed at his words, closing your eyes as you nodded in agreement.

“There are plenty of women in the precinct that would date you.” Biting your lip, you blinked innocently at him. “I hear them talking. I’m sure you do, too.”

“That gets complicated.” He frowned, trying to figure out if you were trying to bait him into digging deeper, or if you were just making conversation. “Messy, especially when there’s different ranks involved.” Is she trying to get me to ask who’s interested in me? “And I like my job, so…”

Your face fell - just briefly, but it was enough to make him certain that you were in fact one of the ones interested in him, and that the thought that nothing could be done about it was upsetting to you. I should reassure her. I should -

“Detective Rockford?” He recognized the voice and groaned at the sound, both of you turning toward the source. “I just wanted to let you know that it’s cruel to put an old woman in jail right before the holidays.” His gaze flicked over to you, and he saw confusion written on your features as you stared at the redheaded woman, your head cocked to the side. Shit.

“Ms. Boulton, we shouldn’t speak to each other outside of the -”

“I don’t want to talk to you, I just want you to listen.” She stepped closer to your table, and for the first time, Tim noticed the shopping bags hung over her arm, some of them bulging. “My grandmother did nothing wrong. And she’s going to prove it in -”

“We wouldn’t have arrested her if we didn’t have evidence. I understand that she’s family, but …” He stood up, turning his attention onto you again and hoping that you recognized the pleading look in his eyes. “But it’s still an ongoing case, and I can’t say anything more than that.”

“You’re dating someone that arrests old women.” She turned her attention on you, her body angled toward where you were still sitting, fingers wrapped loosely around your cup. “Old women that did nothing wrong except try and keep their family’s legacy alive.” She pointed at him, head whipping back and forth. “So that’s the kind of man you-”

“If Tim arrests someone, he’s got a reason to.” You stood then, reaching for your coat. “And if he is wrong about your grandmother? That’ll come out in court.” Zipping your jacket, you straightened it once you were done. “But you causing a scene in a mall food court isn’t going to help anything, so I suggest you listen to his advice and don’t make this worse for yourself right now.”

Tim watched the redhead’s expression shift from anger to disbelief and then back to anger before it softened into defeat. It sucks for her, but holy shit that was hot. “I can’t believe you.” She spun away and stormed off without saying anything else, and Tim watched as you watched her go, your features set in a thoughtful expression. She’s amazing.

“I’m sorry about that.” He bit his lip and stuck a hand on his hip. “I didn’t think -”

“That from your case last week?” You finally looked at him, your expression softening. “I can’t blame her for being upset, but I don’t … I don’t know what she thought was going to happen.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been approached in public by a family member or friend, and it won’t be the last.” He sighed, reaching for his shopping bags with one hand and the empty cup with his other. “I’m just sorry you had to deal with it, too.”

“Don’t apologize.” You headed toward trash cans and then to the opposite side of the mall, Tim once again beside you. “You can’t control what other people do.” You were right, and when he mumbled a thank you, he was rewarded with a bright smile and a wrinkle of your nose. The combination of the two lightening the mood immensely. “You ready to finish shopping?”

He nodded once, and then after only a moment of thought, he reached out with his free hand, setting it gently against your back, urging you forward.

“What about this one?” He held up a deep green hat with metallic thread woven into the pattern and a puffy ball at one end. “Would you wear it?”

“I would.” You took it from him, nodding. “It’s big enough that it’ll fit over just about any hairstyle and onto anyone’s head, it’s slouchy enough that it doesn’t have to be pulled tight over someone’s ears to make it look good, and the color is nice. I think this is a winner, Tim.” He beamed at you, and you were happy to see that the interruption from Maddie Boulton hadn’t put a damper on the remainder of your day. “You want to go pay?”

“Sure.” He nodded twice, dropping his gaze from your face back to the display. “Unless there’s… oh, shit, look at those.” He stepped to the side and you followed, confused as he reached for pairs of fuzzy socks, which were haphazardly loaded onto a circular display. “These are…” He laughed as he picked up a pair featuring penguins on candy cane skis, holding them up to you. “Who comes up with this?”

You reached past him, grabbing a pair that had dinosaurs in Santa hats on them. “I don’t know but these are great, right?” He chuckled, returning the first pair to the pile and then pawing through them to grab a second. “Oh, reindeer with lights in their antlers? A little predictable, but still a classic.”

“I like ‘em.” He shrugged, eyeing the socks before he set them down. “They’re soft. Probably really warm.”

“You should get yourself a pair. You said your feet get cold, and you might not get that blanket you asked for.”

“Today’s not about buying myself things, or I would.” He looked back at you. “We can go pay, if -” Tim frowned and stopped mid sentence, reaching for his pocket and then pulling his phone out. “Shit, I have to take this.” He answered the phone. “Hey, I’m here. Give me one second, alright?” He reached toward you, holding the hat out until you took it, keeping the phone pressed between his cheek and his ear. “Take this, if you want to go pay, that way we can get out of here and you won’t be standing and waiting for me." Tim took money out of his wallet and handed it to you, still smiling. “I’ll meet you by the exit. It’s work, so…”

He trailed off but you agreed, taking the money, too, and watching as he returned to the phone call. He greeted another detective by name as he spun away from you and walked back the way you’d come. It was an abrupt change in pace for the day, but as you eyed his retreating shoulders, you realized that it also gave you an opportunity. He’s not getting the blanket from me, but the socks… I can get him the socks.

You selected the pair with the reindeer and then made your way over to the nearest cashier, getting in line. It went fast, even with two transactions, and after you’d stuffed Tim’s socks into the interior pocket of your jacket and zipped it shut, you headed off to find him.

He was still on the phone, but smiled and nodded as you approached, holding his hand out to take his change - and then the bag - from you, mouthing the words thank you before returning to the conversation.

You didn’t want to hover, so you walked a few steps away and sat down on a bench, pulling your own phone out. You figured that dinner was next on the agenda since Tim had finished his shopping, and while part of you was relieved that the outing had gone smoothly, another part of you didn’t want it to be over.

Hanging out with Tim was nice. Getting to know him was even nicer. And being the focus of his attention for longer than the span of a single conversation at work was the nicest thing of all, if you were being honest. Maybe we can do it again sometime. You looked up and over at him just in time to see that he was sticking his phone back in his pocket, lips set in a thin line. That doesn’t look good.

When he made it over to you, though, he gave you a small smile, holding his hand out to help you up from the bench. You liked the way it felt to have his fingers curl around yours and were sad to lose the contact when he let go. “Everything alright? That was a long call.”

“Yeah, he was just updating me on something with one of our cases. They made some progress while working on something else, and wanted to ask my opinion. It’s important, but not important enough to cut this,” he said while gesturing between the two of you, his smile growing, “short.”

“But you’re done. All we’d miss out on is dinner, so if you need to go, I can -”

“No. Dinner’s the part I’ve been looking forward to most.” He stepped next to you while you started walking again, Tim close enough that his arm hit yours every few steps. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I am.” Your chest filled with warmth, and you wondered if he caught the smile you attempted to hide by looking down and turning your head to the side, away from him. “So where do you want to go? Somewhere in the mall? We can eat at the food court.”

“I’m not taking you to dinner at the food court.” He laughed, tossing his head back and giving you an incredulous look. “We’re going to figure something else out.” You agreed, letting your mind wander to contemplate what was between your house and the mall. But when you felt Tim’s hand on your arm again, you stopped, focusing on him. “Oh, shit, this must be the movie theater Marty was talking about.”

You looked to the right and saw that instead of the usual ‘COMING SOON’ posters, one wall to the side of the theater was adorned with posters depicting Christmas movies and dates that they were playing. Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize we’d walked this far. “It must be.” You pressed your lips together. “Looks like tonight’s sold out, though.” Pointing at the poster, you sighed. “If only I’d agreed to go with him, we could be sitting inside the theater and watching it snow.”

“You’d rather be here with Marty? I’m offended.” Tim nudged you, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time I think about asking you to hang out.” Your heart soared at the implication that he wanted to see you again, even to do something as mundane as run errands. But he said it. And even if he’s joking, there’s still some truth to it.

“I’m perfectly happy here with you, Detective Rockford.” Cocking your head to the side, you took a deep breath. Just go for it. “If you ask me to hang out again, I would not require an outside excuse in order to turn you down.” That got another laugh, but you also saw his nod, Tim’s eyes glittering as he stared at you.

“Even better.” He rubbed a hand over his cheek and then looked over your shoulder and to the box office, the tip of his tongue flashing against his lips as he wet them. “But I really kinda do want to see Die Hard, so if you give me a second, I’m going to go and see if I can grab tickets.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you took a second to respond. “You’ll have the night off?” He nodded, one corner of his mouth rising as he smiled briefly. “I’ll wait here.” He spun away from you and you watched him go, fingers curling into a loose fist at your side. I hope it’s sold out. Otherwise …

The afternoon you’d talked about it in the breakroom, you’d gone online and bought two tickets to the movie as Tim’s main Secret Santa gift. Since the showings were discounted, you’d still had some budget leftover, which was why you’d chosen the socks - and still had a couple extra bucks remaining for the final part of his gift. But the tickets might be redundant if he buys one tonight.

There was no way for you to clue him in without giving yourself away, though, and so you watched and waited as Tim stood in line, occasionally glancing back in your direction. You wondered if it was just one of his mannerisms; constant awareness of his surroundings was a big part of his job, after all. But another, more hopeful part of you believed that he was specifically looking back and for you.

When he turned away from the counter and headed back to where you waited, you felt a cautious optimism. And that feeling intensified when he rolled his eyes at you, frowning. “They were sold out.” He confirmed the news when he was only a few feet away, dodging and weaving through people to get back to you. “Just haven’t updated it yet.” That’s great.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. That’s too bad.” He agreed, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing toward the direction you’d come from.

“It’s the night after the gift exchange at work, so maybe I’ll just stay at home and watch it. Some streaming platform’s gotta have it on there, right?”

“Right.” Stepping closer to him to avoid a teenager on a motorized elephant racing their friend - who was riding a panda - you groaned. “Those things are the worst damn addition to the mall. It’s always a herd of them zooming down the aisle.”

“I always hope the batteries die.” He leaned in, turning his head so that he could talk into your ear. “Them scattered everywhere is still less in the way than people riding them around.” He was right, and you shivered at the way his low voice sounded in your ear, the end of his confession lifting slightly into a laugh. It felt right to be joking around with Tim, both of you quick to catch onto each other’s quips and moods. It’s almost too easy.

Neither of you said anything else until you were back at the car, Tim opening the trunk so that he could put his bags inside. “Did you think more about dinner? We should probably decide before we pull out of the parking lot.”

“We should.” He leaned forward, eyes locked with yours. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” You crossed your arms. “Of course I do.”

Tim stared at you for a few seconds without blinking and then he closed his eyes, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Ok. Good. Get in.” He opened his eyes and then winked at you before arching a brow. “That alright?”

It was more than alright. I don’t think he even knows hes flirting. “I’ll let you know after we get there.” Instead of giving you a verbal reply, Tim tapped one hand on the top of his car and licked his lips again, turning toward the door.

But I definitely do.

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