We're almost done, guys. This is full of clichés but I'm tired of them dancing around each other. And if it seems rushed then just blame it on Tommy. He's the unreliable narrator here ;) Anyway enjoy!

After that night he cuts himself off from everyone. He exists only between his home and the precinct. Get up, go to work, go home, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. He dreams about lost girls and the world in which I love him, Tommy is repeated in all honesty. He wakes up panting, chilled to the bone.
He wants to be the one who saves the day so badly. He wants to be the one to find Sara, to bring her home. He wants to comfort Lindy, make everything better but he's a knight in rusty armor. Sara doesn't want to be found and Lindy isn't a damsel in distress needing to be saved. He still continues to discreetly check the files for her but he's stuck.

Yeager tries to talk to him once, no doubt encouraged by Sophia, but they're not exactly friends and it ends up awkward and pointless. Once upon a time Ben would've taken him out for a beer (or ten) and he'd end up spilling all his heartaches in a drunken haze, his best friend's presence silently comforting. He misses that. There's no reward in talking to a cold tombstone.

Lindy calls him twice. The first time he takes so long to decide if he should answer that by the time he does she's already hang up. The second time he lets it go straight to voicemail. He's not sure why and whom he is punishing more. He knows she's ok, he knows she's not going anywhere and it's good enough. A clean break seems like a reasonable solution. He's a mess she doesn't need in her life.

This imposed separation goes on for three long weeks until one afternoon he gets home and finds her sitting on the stairs outside his apartment.

"You're not answering my calls," she tells him with a small smile.

It's an echo of old Tommy and Lindy, of times when there were more pressing things to worry about than a badly kept crush.

"You're not used to guys doing that, are you?"

She grins at his answer and gets up from the stairs. Boris is whimpering on the other side of the front door.

"I need to talk to you," she tells him while he's looking for his keys.

"Lindy, I don't have anything new. I'd call you if I did..."

"No," she shakes her head. "This isn't about Sara. For once it's not going to be about her. We need to talk about me... and you."

He opens the door and Boris goes straight to Lindy. Apparently Tommy wasn't the only one missing her.

He picks up the leash and hands it to Lindy.

"Join us for a walk?"

They're on their way to the park, Boris keeping to her side and it feels wonderfully domestic. Tommy could get used to that.

"Is it true you almost lost your badge?" She asks and it's not exactly the first question he thought he'd hear from her. "Or got suspended? I'm not sure how it works, George just mentioned you almost got fired."

"Yep," he answers.

"But you caught... him," she seems stunned.

"They didn't really appreciate the methods I used," he shrugs. He still owes Yeager for not telling them everything he's done.

"I didn't mean for that to happen." Guilt's clear in her eyes.

"No, Lindy, it's not your fault," he adds quickly. Between the two of them there's enough of guilt for several lifetimes. "I didn't exactly behave like a cop."

"You made it personal," she states quietly.

"He killed Ben. It was always personal. It just got more... intense."

"Because you have feelings for me," she doesn't look at him. He never expected her to be so blunt but maybe it's for the best. Just rip off the band aid.

There's no use in denying so he gives a short nod.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He chuckles at her question. She can't be serious.

"No, I'm talking about your plan to catch Bubonic. Operation Magnifly," she spits out the words like they're poison. "Why didn't you tell me the truth? Things were good between us."

"That's why I didn't tell you," he admits. "I don't know, I wasn't brave enough? Lindy, I'm not particularly proud of using you like that but I meant what I said back then. I was only doing my job. I didn't really know you."

"The way you talked about me," her voice trembles a little. "I was nothing but means to an end. I felt so used. Even the way I found out about it..."

He stays silent. There's not enough apologies to make it better and she doesn't need to hear his excuses.

"I just wish I heard it from you," she says softly and for the first time since this conversation started she looks at him.

They never talked this frankly before. It's not as unpleasant and difficult as he imagined it to be. They probably should've done it right from the moment she came back. It would surely save him so pain.

"I never thanked you for being there when I needed you. Despite everything. Even when I didn't want to see you. I don't want you to think it didn't matter. It does matter."

He didn't expect to hear that but Lindy's not done yet. Clearly he wasn't the only one who did some thinking.

"Leaving was difficult but so was being left, isn't it? I'm sorry I had to do this. There was no other choice at that time. I left because I needed to deal with it all by myself. I needed time to think. Alone. I came back once I did that, once I was ready."

It's no revelation but he's still grateful for her simple explanation. Lindy looks relieved, like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. He feels the first drops of the autumn rain on his face. He whistles at Boris and points to the sky now covered with black, stormy clouds.

"We should go back."

By the time they reach his apartment they're soaking wet. Tommy is clumsily opening the door while trying to steer shaking Boris away from his usual path in a desperate attempt to save his living room couch. He takes off his dripping hoodie and sodden shoes and quickly grabs a few towels. He hands one to shivering Lindy while he takes care of Boris and the floor.

"Bathroom's that way," he gives her an old t-shirt and sweat pants. "I'll change in the bedroom."

A few minutes later he doesn't even hear her come inside the room. She's standing in the doorway, drowning in his clothes and he can't help but laugh.

"Did I tell you you're freakishly tall?" It makes him laugh even more.

"Not yet. You look cute like that." It's a slip of the tongue but he doesn't want to take it back. She does a mocking curtsy to him and looks around the bedroom.

"Is this you?" She picks up a small framed photo from his bookshelf.

He smiles.

"I got that bike for my birthday. For whatever reason I really wanted it to be blue with a red stripe so my father painted it on his day off. He wasn't very good at it. Left paint prints all over the kitchen floor. My mother was furious."

"Do you see them often? Your parents?"

"Not really," he sighs. "I see my mom every couple of months at family Sunday dinner. Dad was killed in the line of duty when I was 13."

"I didn't know," she looks uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I was being nosy."

He shrugs at her. It's just another thing on the long list of things he never shared with her.

"It's ok. It's not like we swapped childhood stories."

"Is this why you became a cop?" She looks sheepish. She clearly wants to know more but is unsure if she should ask. He actually finds it endearing. It's been a while since someone was genuinely curious about him.

"The police shrink definitely thinks so," he jokes. She looks surprised so he explains, "It was mandatory. After Ben died..."

She nods, soft look in her eyes.

"You know, I think my mom cried more when I told her I joined the academy than when my dad died," he can't help but share. There are so many things he left unsaid, so many things he wants her to know, to understand about him. "She's still terrified I'll end up like him. For a very long time he was the only reason I wanted to be a cop. I thought I couldn't get my life together if I didn't find the man who shot him."

"Did you?" She stands so close to him, her presence warming the coldness of the memories he's reliving.

"No, never found him. I've finally learned to let it go. Once I let my dad rest in peace, I've figured out my life. Well, kind of... I guess I'm still learning."

She smiles at him and puts the picture back to its place.

"I've never really told that to anyone," he's a bit embarrassed now.

"Your secret is safe with me," she takes a step closer. "It's my turn now, right? It's only fair if I tell you something about myself."

"There's really no need for that," he looks away. He had her file memorized long before they even knew each other. He knows every detail of her life.

She grabs his arm and forces him to look her in the eye. She looks serious, grave. She's an actual mind-reader.

"That file isn't me, Tommy," she emphasises and takes another small step. "You think you know everything about me because of it. But you don't. We're more than just a sequence of events happening to us. You think you have me figured out but you're wrong. You're so wrong."

He's so captivated by the passion in her voice he doesn't dare to comment.

"You think I don't see it, that I don't care. Everything you're doing... You're being unfair, Tommy. Unfair to me and to yourself. And the worst of all is that you think you're betraying Ben," she pauses as if to check for his reaction. "I loved Ben. He was a good man. But so are you."

And with that she stands on tiptoe and gently presses her lips to his.