Minimal damage. Quick recovery. "You got lucky," is what the surgeon told Tim after he woke up, groggy and sore in post-op recovery. His side still felt like it was on fire, so he didn't totally agree. However, it was a relief to hear it wasn't worse. He got more info as the anesthesia wore off and he was moved into a room. By some chance -the word "miracle" was tossed around once or twice- the bullet had remained whole. There was no shrapnel to extract from the surrounding tissue.

Well, if he had to get shot, at least it went like that.

The nurse that took care of him first was named Pilar. She entered his room in a cheerful mood, but despite her needling to look at the bright side or crack a smile, Tim stayed cranky about the whole thing. He figured he earned a little grumpiness after what he'd gone through. It made no difference to her, though, and a forced smile stayed on Pilar's face while she filled out the board in his room with his care goals, breaking only when she got to the segment of the whiteboard with emergency contact info.

"Who should we call in case of an emergency?"

Tim shrugged. "No one, I guess."

Pilar turned to him. "No one?"

"No one I can think of."

She tapped the marker against her palm. "Not even your soulmate?"

"My soulmate?" How did the nurse know about Chen? Had she called the hospital? Was she in the waiting room?

"Sorry, I noticed your timer is green. I'm sure they'd like to know you're okay at least." After a moment, the nurse added, "I can't leave it blank, sir."

"Um… Angela Lopez at the Mid-Wilshire precinct. She's a—" thorn in my side? Pain in the ass? "—friend. The number is in my phone." He looked around for his cell but didn't see it within his reach. It was then that Pilar produced from a cabinet in the corner a white bag containing the belongings that had been on his person when they brought him in. After a few seconds of rifling through the contents, she handed him the phone. He gave her Lopez's number, and she seemed satisfied as she turned to her cart and began scrolling through his chart.

"Should I update the emergency contact info in our system too?"

"What do you mean?"

Pilar pointed at the computer screen. "It says here we're to contact Isabel Bradford."

He shook his head. That number was long dead. "Can you update it to Lopez, please?"

The nurse nodded and did as he asked. The rest of the chart didn't take very long. His vitals had been recorded in post-op, and she really only needed to make sure she was present if he needed the bathroom, a comment that made him balk.

"You're a fall risk, sir," she explained.

"I'm a fall risk?"

"Only temporarily. It's just because of the anesthesia. I'm happy to help you if you need it." She tried to reach for his arm, but he shook his head.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, and with her work done, Pilar excused herself.

Fucking A, he thought. A little anesthesia and they treated him like a toddler. How embarrassing. The moment she was gone, he reached for his phone and called Lopez.

"Well, aren't I a lucky girl," she said, teasing instead of greeting him. "So you survived. Chen will be so happy to hear the good news."

"Yeah," he agreed, and at the mention of Lucy's name, he remembered the concern in her amber-in-the-right-light eyes, the panic on her face as she covered him. "That's not why I called. I'm going to be here for a few days. Can you or Bishop pick up some things from my house?"

"Sure can. What do you need? Charger? Toothbrush? Clean tighty-whiteys?"

"Charger, toothbrush, toothpaste, a change of clothes, and a few pairs of boxers."

"Boxers?" She huffed in his ear. "Bradford, you're so boring."

"You've got opinions on everything, don't you?"

"It's part of my charm."

"'Charm.' Right."

"Shut up, you love it," Lopez laughed, then said, "One of us will come by after our shift. Think you'll be okay until then?"

"Think so," he replied and looked towards the door. "They've labeled me a fucking fall risk. Like I'm some… some…"

"Like an old man?" she chuckled in his ear.

"It's not funny."

"Should I grab a walker for you while I'm out?"

"Lopez."

"Fine, fine. God, you're no fun," Lopez relented with a sigh. "Someone will come by tonight, okay?"

"Thank you."

He rested periodically after calling Lopez, but what sleep he managed to sneak was brief. Tim didn't like to take painkillers unless the discomfort was unbearable, but his side ached enough he had trouble finding a position that didn't aggravate his wound. A nurse came in every two hours to check on him, and to his humiliation, Pilar helped him to the restroom during the second check even though he could make the short walk to the bathroom and back without assistance. When asked if there was anything else he needed, he requested a shower.

"Sorry," Pilar replied. "Fall risk, remember? And we can't let you submerge the stitches just yet."

He sighed. "No, I'm fine."

Unable to shower and unable to sleep, Tim amused himself with reruns on TVLand. He noticed his watch was gone somewhere between the third and fourth rerun of "Golden Girls". He figured it was in the paper bag that Pilar had gotten his phone from, but that was on the other side of the room; it seemed silly to call a nurse just to bring him his watch. He glanced down at his wrist, looking again at his timer, at the screen that had gone green, the plastic thick and sort of clunky. It wasn't the nicest model these days. Hell, it wasn't the nicest one when he got it twenty years ago. The timers had gotten fancier the longer they were available. Some flashed lights, played songs, chimed at midnight… all sorts of unnecessary bells and whistles. He'd been a poor Army recruit fresh out of high school and chose the cheapest one they had, an ancient-looking thing that was outdated by ten years or so when he got it. That's why it blared when it went off, sounding about as pleasant as a fire alarm.

Lucy's hadn't done that, Tim remembered as he ran the tip of his finger across the clock face. Hers had sounded kind of nice, like music.

"Oh, timers. Pesky little things, aren't they?"

He jumped at the sound of a voice, relaxing only momentarily before realizing that Captain Andersen had entered the room unnoticed. When he tried to sit up straighter, Tim winced.

Andersen chuckled. "At ease, soldier. This is an informal visit," she said, then walked to his bedside. "I wanted to see how you're doing."

He replied, "According to the doc, I got lucky."

"Lucky, huh?" She smirked and, with a shake of her head, said, "You know, it was quick thinking on Officer Chen's part, getting you away from the shop when it caught fire."

Had the shop caught fire? Tim hadn't realized (to be fair, he was a little distracted, bleeding out and all). Well, that explained why she moved him when she did, why she'd ignored his order to pursue and insisted on staying by his side. She was trying to protect him. Only two days into the job, and already… he sighed as he shot the rest of the thought down. He couldn't be mad at Chen for doing what she'd done. If their situations were reversed, he probably would've carried her clear off-site, well away from the gunfire. The pull in his stomach returned as he imagined her lying on the ground like he had, a bullet in her side, her blood slipping red and warm through her fingers. Even in his mind, the image was jarring, upsetting enough to make his hands clammy.

In the second or two it took him to piece the scene together (and for his fucked brain to spin a completely fictional, "what if" scenario), Andersen's smile had disappeared.

"What do you think of Officer Chen?" she asked, earnest.

The question felt a little loaded. Tim wasn't sure of her angle. Without answering it directly, all he could do was say, "Ma'am?"

"The fact that she's your soulmate? That makes no difference to you?"

He shook his head. "It won't be a problem, ma'am."

Her smile returned. "You know, Chen said something like that, too."

Oh. Well, damn. He hadn't counted on Andersen running reconnaissance. "You talked to her?" When the captain nodded, Tim asked, "Is she okay?"

His question affected Andersen enough that she paused before answering. "I pulled her aside at the end of her shift. She seemed a little shaken up, but she's tough. She'll get through it." Another pause, then the captain cleared her throat. "Tim… I need to be sure. Lucy has so much potential," she explained. "She could be great. That's why I want to keep her with you."

"Because I'm also great?" A bad joke on his part, but he was desperate for a little levity.

At least it made the captain chuckle. "Because I think you'll draw what the force needs out of her," she said, then added somberly, "but I don't need to tell you why this is complicated."

"Yes, ma'am," he acknowledged with a nod.

"I can't have her distracted or let feelings interfere with her training. It could ruin her before she starts."

"I know."

Andersen eyed him warily. "She says you don't believe in soulmates."

"Yes, ma'am."

"She also said she thinks you just want to make her a good officer."

Again, he nodded. "Both things are true, ma'am."

"I'm inclined to trust you'll do the job well, Officer Bradford. If anything changes though, if for any reason you feel you cannot train her and keep things ethical, you let me know. I promise there will be no reprisal against your career or hers if you switch."

Tim knew Captain Andersen meant well by making such a promise; he also knew keeping it was well outside of the powers of her position. She could make it so for Mid-Wilshire, and only Mid-Wilshire. Anywhere else, though, and both he and Chen would be subject to scrutiny. He did not say so, though, only repeating, "It won't be an issue, ma'am," and at last, she seemed convinced. After wishing him a speedy recovery, she left, and Tim was alone to think about their conversation.

As he'd told Andersen (and Chen, and Grey, and Lopez…. fuck, it felt like he'd said it a hundred times since yesterday) he didn't believe in soulmates, in the timers, although Tim had begun to wonder if it was more of a "wouldn't" than "didn't". He was self-aware enough to admit that that level of stubbornness was possible for him. Regardless, it remained true that he was uncertain of the timers' authenticity, no matter how he'd reacted. The feelings he had developed for (no, not for; around) Chen since yesterday? The way he only saw her at first, or how what felt like an invisible force occasionally tried to yank him to her side, or when he'd acted like a fucking lech as he all but ate her up with that first look? He decided then and there that that was just good, old-fashioned attraction, and he could will his way past that. So what that she stunned him speechless with that perfect mouth of hers, those eyes? Tim had muscled his way through attraction when he and Isabel were coming up together as rookies. It was all a matter of self-control. He'd done it once. He could do it again.

But what if I can't?

Tim scoffed over his second-guessing, dismissing it. Burying it. Since when did he doubt himself? If there was one thing he could count on -one thing that wouldn't let him down in this world gone crazy- it was his willpower.

Hospital food was atrocious. Warm salad, cold "roasted" chicken, and spiced apples that were somehow barely spiced and barely apple. Upon delivery, Tim picked over the meal with a scowl. He ate what he could from the chicken, ignored the wilted vegetables, and pretended the apples didn't exist. What remained on the tray Tim considered trash, and he had just set the leftovers aside when someone knocked on the door to his room. He muted the television and called, "Come in," expecting it to be Bishop or Lopez with his belongings.

It was not Bishop. It wasn't Lopez, either. It was Chen.

He hadn't seen her out of uniform before. Not that he'd had much chance to, since he'd only known her for two days total. It was a sight he was unprepared for, and Tim thought to himself that it was lucky he was not plugged up to a heart monitor because his pulse noticeably jumped when his eyes landed on her. She'd taken her hair out of the low bun she wore at work; now, it hung loose and free, dark brown stands that were longer than he expected, falling several inches past her shoulders. It landed in waves, framing her face with the shortest layers ghosting just barely over her collarbones. The clothes she wore now were pretty nondescript, but the way the fabric clung to her hips, to her waist, revealed with certainty the figure her police uniform had only hinted at. Dammit. His fists clenched at his sides when he saw her, and he became angry with himself for once more looking at her so hungrily.

Chen, unaware of his thoughts, seemed to sigh in relief seeing him upright and conscious. She even smiled. Before he could think better of it, he bit out, "Don't get too excited, Boot. Acting happy to see me won't earn you any brownie points."

Her joy faded immediately, and just as quickly, he felt like shit for snapping. "You didn't see how pale you were before the ambulance came," she retorted, and he was surprised and maybe a little impressed that she finally matched his attitude with one of her own. She crossed the room and presented him with a beige tote bag. "These are from your house. Don't worry. Talia picked up everything. I didn't even leave the car."

He glanced through the bag, taking mental stock of the items inside. It looked like everything he'd asked for made it. "She made you stay in the car?"

"No, I chose to stay in the car. Didn't think you'd want me snooping around your living space on my second day as your rookie. Who knows what dirt I'd dig up while I was there?" He could tell she was trying to make a joke, but neither of them were really in a laughing mood.

"As if I'd leave dirt out for you to find."

"So… you admit there's dirt?" He shot her a wordless glare. Taking the hint, Chen moved on from the topic. "Um… You have a nice house. What I saw of it, I mean. The outside is really pretty."

Yeah, for all the work left to do on the inside, at least the front and back yards were pretty much finished. Those had been his passion projects. As for the house itself, he replied, "Thanks. Isabel chose it."

Sad recognition crossed Chen's face at the name. Her eyes sort of narrowed, and she bit down on her lips as she nodded. He could tell she was imagining his wife in their home, and for some reason, that made Tim feel a little remorseful. He didn't mean to hurt her. It just… well, it sort of kept happening, didn't it? He didn't really care to look closer at why hurting Chen bothered him so much, but he couldn't help but notice it made that weird gnawing, tugging feeling return. He was starting to pick up on a pattern; that nudge had shown up when he first saw her, yes, but then it reared its head with the drug dealer and when he wished that she'd quit. It hit him again when he'd envisioned her in his place at the shootout. It almost felt separate from the other reactions he could blame on the timers, but if it wasn't from that, then what was causing it?

He looked away and placed the bag on the tray by his arm. "Well. I'll see you later."

"So that's… it, then?"

"Looks like it."

"Really?"

Again, that fucking feeling. Yeah, for sure that was something. What the hell? Under closer scrutiny, it almost seemed protective, but Tim dismissed that as ridiculous. Protect her? From what? There was nothing to fear here; there was no threat. Great, she had his instincts all cockeyed and now he was sensing danger where there wasn't any. "I'm not sure what else you expected from me, Chen."

Her face fell again."Yeah," she finally said. "Yeah, no. Not sure what I expected either. I won't bother you again."

"Come on. Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic, Tim," she answered. "I'm upset. I'm allowed to be upset. But I'm not being dramatic. All things considered, I'm handling things pretty damn well, but you're not. Outside of the usual TO bully stuff, you've been mean."

"-Hey, I've-"

"You've been mean, and you are being dismissive."

At that, he looked away and decided not to stop her. Instead, he let Chen speak, silently accepting as she ranted at him.

"I know this wasn't what you wanted. Hell, you've made it perfectly clear that I wasn't what you wanted." There was a discernible tremor in her voice, an ache that made itself obvious when she emphasized I. "But this isn't my fault. You think I walked into roll call and said to myself, 'hey, that guy'll do'? You know I didn't! Your timer hit zero, same as mine. I didn't do this to you any more than you did this to me.

I don't want anything from you except for us to be good to each other, because like it or not, Tim," Lucy continued, "you're going to be important to me."

Those words, more than any Chen had said yet, hit him like a bullet. Forget bullet; it hit him like a missile, and he only just managed to look at her again once she finished speaking. She held him in her gaze, anticipating his reply.

Tim didn't speak. He knew he should have, but she'd once again managed to leave him speechless. Chen assumed he felt nothing, had no clue about the impossible, inexplicable things her presence alone had done to him since the moment they met, and he was too much of a fucking coward to contradict her and deal with the fallout. He hadn't had the nerve to tell Lopez what happened the moment his eyes landed on her. He certainly couldn't bring himself to tell Chen to her face, but she interpreted his lack of response as apathy, and after another stretch of silence passed she turned to go. No longer held in her stare, Tim's eyes fell to his timer. Green screen, six zeroes, all on a strip of plastic no more than a few inches long. How could something so small cause so much damage?

Chen's voice sounded distant as she asked him, "Why? Why did you even get a timer if you don't believe in it?"

He didn't respond.

"I won't bother you again," she repeated, sounding sad, resigned. He let her leave and did not say goodbye.

A/N: Special thanks to Daisy/stargazerdaisy who has continued to give me guidance on this series and to Mari/moonycpd who read over this chapter and made suggestions. Also, I'm posting previews and yelling about Chenford on tumblr! Meadow-ward dot tumblr dot com

Thank you for reading!