In all likeliness, it was nothing. Nothing, or something minor. Whatever had happened -whatever had necessitated Lucy's visit to the urgent care- it was probably going to turn out okay.

Yeah, Tim knew that logically, rationally… but that didn't stop him from seizing up with worry basically immediately. Tension had made his throat feel tight, and Tim swallowed it away as best he could before he asked West, "Did you see her? Was she hurt?" There wasn't much West could tell him; he hadn't seen her, and as to Lucy being hurt, he couldn't say. What little he knew, he'd already relayed. Although Tim did his best to at least give the appearance of composure, already his brain started spinning fucked up scenarios. He came up with half a dozen "what-ifs" of increasingly dire nature in as many seconds.

Across the bullpen, he spotted Lopez and Bishop leaving the women's locker room. Nodding once to West, he walked off, calling out to Talia. "Chen's at the urgent care," he said when he was about ten feet away from the two, the gap closing with every stride. Simultaneously, he dialed her number and held his phone to his ear. It rang, and while it rang, he asked Bishop sharply, "What the hell happened?" It came off more accusatory than he meant, prompting Lopez to intervene just as Tim's call went to voice mail.

"Okay, calm down, Bradford," she warned as he dialed a second time. Again, he got Lucy's voicemail, her greeting coming through warm and cheerful as the recording asked him to leave a message.

Talia replied, "I don't know. She didn't get hurt that I noticed."

"That you noticed?" he snarked as he lowered his phone and typed out a quick text.

You ignoring my phone calls? That much was evident by now. Jackson said you're at the urgent care. What happened? Are you hurt?

"Who told you she's at the doctor?" Bishop asked.

"West." A glance back showed the rookie in question was still standing where Tim had left him, but now he had his phone out, too. Messaging Lucy, perhaps? Maybe he'd have an update, but Tim wouldn't put too much faith in that. Even if Chen did give her friend more context, West was likely to hold it back if she asked.

"Okay," Bishop said stoically, prompting Tim's attention to return to her. "Well, if Chen wanted you to know, she would've told you." Throughout their exchange, Lopez remained silent, witnessing the conversation play out without adding a single word beyond her first warning.

Tim felt his gaze narrow, squinting at Bishop as he tried to make sense of her statement. "What are you saying?"

She remained coolly diplomatic, her response firm while also withholding. "I'm saying if she didn't tell you, then she probably had a good reason."

"So you know, don't you? You know what happened?"

"I have an idea of what's going on, yeah," she confirmed and crossed her arms, "but I'm not going to tell you because that's not my place, and until and unless she talks to you about it, it's not yours either. You need to give her space." With a shake of her head, she added, "This isn't about you, Tim," as she turned to walk away, leaving him with Lopez. He let Bishop reach the exit before looking at Lopez once and heading toward the garage.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"Urgent care."

"You don't know which one she's at."

"I guess I'll check all of them, won't I?" he shot back, and after a second, heard her follow. His steps were quick and long, but eventually, Lopez caught up to him, catching him by the sleeve. When he tried to pull away, her grip remained firm.

"Bradford," she said, and again her voice was colored with a warning, "you need to chill out."

He would if he could, and surprised himself by replying, "West says Nolan is with her. Nolan."

"That's good, right? That she's not alone?"

"I'm pretty damn sure I can help her better than Nolan could."

"Nolan's her friend." He scoffed at that, and she tugged on his sleeve again. "Tim. Come on. Stop. You can't just swoop in like a white knight the second you think she needs help."

"She's my boot," he said, but the excuse was thin. Weak. "I should make sure she's okay."

There were three possible urgent cares within a short drive of the station. Two were associated with hospitals; the other was an independent provider. He'd start with those three, then widen his search as necessary until he either found Lucy or she returned his messages. As he drove off, he remembered his conversation with Sergeant Grey.

When it comes to the people we care about, the instinct to protect is strong, but when it comes to soulmates? It can be overpowering.

Tim was still in touch enough with his senses to realize that that was what was happening here… in touch enough, but not strong enough to stop it. As much as he was cognizant of his actions, he was also driven by instinct, and that propelled him down the streets of Los Angeles. He was determined to find her, wherever she was.

Also… Nolan? Really? His disdain for the other man had so far only been the professional discourtesy he gave every new officer during their probationary year. Then, Lucy had picked him; had picked him over Tim. Yeah, he knew she was probably fine. He knew that, if she'd made it through a shift without a noticeable incident or complaint, if she'd walked out of the station on her own two feet, then whatever she was feeling was probably minor. That she'd asked Nolan -fucking Nolan- for help meant something, but he wasn't sure what. She was too sick or hurt to drive, maybe? Was he along as support? Perhaps, but as the minutes passed and she didn't return his calls or texts, Tim's mind went to the worst-case scenario. As he slowed to a stop at a red light, he sent her one last message.

Can you please just let me know you're okay?

Tim felt anxious and disheveled as he hastily put his truck into park in the lot of the first urgent care on his list, a satellite location of Cedars. Lucy was on her way out of the building as he approached. How fucking lucky was it that the first stop was the right one? If he were less of a pessimist, he'd be tempted to call it a sign. It was the first time Tim remembered not hating the way the world dropped out for a second when his eyes landed on her; it meant he could see her, and only her, clearly. She was healthy and whole, with no sign of injury or sickness. Relief washed over him instantly. Lucy was smiling, her face partially obscured by the curtain of her glossy brown hair. He'd never noticed how pretty her profile was. Some of her features looked altogether angelic, especially with her head tilted up, her lips pulled into a genuine, warm smile. Was this the first time he'd seen her smile? He had so far not been on the receiving end of one of her smiles, and he hated that the first time he was seeing it, she was giving it to another person, to another man. As the edges of his vision returned to their usual clarity, he saw her companion clearer. Nolan's arm was wrapped around her shoulder, a gesture of affection that made Tim see red and feel sick.

Then she turned to him, her eyes widening as she saw him, and he froze in place as the automatic doors parted.

There was a ton of shit he wanted to say. Not all of it (hell, not even most of it) was nice. Things like answer your fucking phone and Nolan? Really? Nolan? came to mind, but all that managed to leave his mouth was a single, sort of breathless, "Hi."

Her brow was furrowed as she looked at him uncertainly. Her response - a repeat of his- almost sounded like a question. "Hi."

Tim glanced between her and Nolan. Under his glare, the other man withdrew his arm from around Lucy's shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Her smile had long faded, but now she frowned. "Yep," was all the answer she gave.

"I was just about to take Lucy home," Nolan explained, filling the silence Lucy's short answer created.

"I'll take her," Tim said. He did not frame it as a suggestion or request.

In response, Nolan looked at Lucy. "Only if it's okay with you." When Tim began to say it was fine, the other shushed him, turning to him with ice in his eyes. "No offense, sir, but I was asking Lucy."

Well. Maybe he had been too quick to write off the oldest rookie as a golly-gee Boy Scout. Tim would have to have been clueless to not realize that the other man did not like him, and that he felt defensive -territorial, even- over Chen.

Luckily, Lucy saved them both from their stand-off, turning to Nolan and saying sweetly, "Yeah, it's okay. Raincheck on the pizza, though." Only then did he walk away, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment he was out of earshot, Tim asked, "You okay? You're not hurt or anything."

Her expression gave no indication of any feeling as she answered, "I'm not hurt."

He sized her up again. His initial once-over had shown no injuries, and neither did this slower, second look. He looked for a bandage, a cast, even a hitch in her step, but there were no visible injuries anywhere and no hint of pain on her face. Tim nodded towards the parking lot. "Okay. Let's go," he said and started to walk off, pausing when he did not hear her following. "You coming?"

Lucy hesitated, her expression changing as she fortified herself with a deep breath. "No."

"No?"

"No," she repeated. "I'm not leaving until you tell me why you came here."

Her resistance irked him, and he only just stopped himself from speaking through clenched teeth. "I was trying to be nice. If you don't want me to drive you home, call an Uber for all I care." He was bluffing, of course; he wasn't going to let her get into some stranger's car, not after he'd driven all the way there.

Lucy had guessed as much, too. She laughed. Laughed at his lie, he figured, but it didn't seem mean. As silly as it sounded (especially at that moment), she had a nice laugh. It made her lips lift in the corners, lines forming high on her cheeks as she chuckled. It was almost like that smile he'd seen earlier, the soft one she had sported as she looked up at Nolan fondly.

"What's so funny?"

"You did not drive all this way just to make me call an Uber, Tim."

"… You weren't answering your phone."

"I'm off-duty."

"You should still answer for your training officer."

"And that's who you were calling as? My TO?" He didn't respond, and she didn't wait for an answer, continuing as she took a step closer, "I know Jackson told you I'd come to the urgent care. Obviously, because I only told one person other than Nolan and yet, here you are. If you were wondering if I'd been hurt on duty, you could've just asked Talia, but she wouldn't have been able to tell you anything, so you just came here yourself. In kind of a rush, if the state of your shirt is any indication. Why?"

Her scrutiny made him defensive. "What do you want me to say, Chen? Do you want me to say I was worried?"

"If that's the truth, then yeah. I want to hear you say that."

"You're being ridiculous."

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Fine. I was worried. So?" It was hardly the revelation she made it out to be. Lopez and Bishop had both seen him work up to a panic tonight; so had West. There was a good chance that his display would become the talk of the station by tomorrow. "You weren't answering, and I had this feeling, and… y-you really asked Nolan to take you to the doctor? Nolan, and not me, your…" He stopped short, leaving the end of the sentence unspoken.

"My what, Tim?"

He didn't answer.

"My training officer? My soulmate?"

Tim spiraled quickly then, his mind taking off as it flipped through recent memories like a turning Rolodex. Amber eyes and her hands on his. The desires that had been immediate; the drive, the need to protect, the ever-present temptation to skate his hand over the curve of her waist. His somber conversation with Grey. You're going to be important to me, and Not my soulmate, but something. All of it, every complicated moment sprang to the surface, tempered only barely as he clung to a belief that was rapidly dying. Tim still didn't know what something was, but at this moment, it was closer to soulmates than not. So he met her eyes and told the truth, trying to imbue it with all the things he didn't say. All the things he had, rightly or unfairly, held back since the beginning.

"It's both, isn't it?" he answered, and waited with a racing heart for her response.

When she finally spoke, Lucy's voice was a whisper. "Take me home. We need to talk."

Home for her was a three-story apartment building. Nondescript and cold, it utilized too much concrete for his liking. The drive over had been silent except for the radio and Lucy's occasional directions down the city streets, and the silence persisted as Tim followed her up the stairs. She stopped on the second-floor landing and went to the first door on the left. "You thirsty? Hungry?" she asked as she left the door open for him, assuming he'd follow. She kicked off her shoes -black boots that added two inches to her height- and left them just inside the door before going to the kitchen and peeking in the fridge. "I hope you're not hungry because all I have is Landshark. I can order takeout if you want."

Tim had gone no further than the front door, stopping on her straw welcome mat that read I Hope You Brought Cake. "You don't have to feed me, but a beer sounds good."

A moment later, she reappeared holding two opened beers, and her lips quirked into a small smile seeing that he hadn't moved. She handed one bottle to him. "You gonna stand in my doorway all night?" she asked before turning away. He watched her go. Watched the way her hips swayed, how her long brown hair bounced slightly with her steps, and his mouth went suddenly dry. He followed, feeling like he was running on pure adrenaline. His hand shook a little as he brought the beer to his lips.

Just off the short hallway that served as the entryway was the living room. Or rather, the space acted as a living room. The room was small and square. A television stood in one corner. Opposite it sat an oversized brown couch decorated with bright orange and turquoise pillows. Lucy chose a seat on one end. Tim took the other and tried not to feel affected by how gracefully she brought her legs beneath her, curling into the cushion in a comfortable position as she took another sip of beer. As her left arm lifted, he caught sight of the brown and black leather band around her left wrist, obscuring her timer.

"Since when do you wear watches?"

"Since Nolan gave me his."

She didn't say it meanly; the answer just sort of was, but that didn't stop Tim from grousing at the name. "Didn't realize you guys were that close," he mumbled.

"Yeah, well, we came up in the academy together, and he has his own shitty timer experience in his past, so he's been helping me."

There was a tightness to her smile as she relayed this story, but Tim didn't question it. His response was only a non-committal, "Hmm."

"What's going on, Tim?" she asked.

He'd hoped for more time to come up with an answer, only to realize with a sigh that Lucy had already given him that courtesy. She'd given him space and weeks to come clean, to tell the truth in its entirety, not in snippets when he was left with no other choice. He couldn't put her off any longer, not when she looked at him with so much expectation. Even so, two urges battled inside him; there was the urge to be flippant and the urge to be honest. Honest won out. "I don't know."

A beat, and then Lucy replied, "Me neither.

At that, he looked her way. "I thought you had all this timer stuff figured out, Chen. You sure seemed to think so a month ago."

"Yeah. A month ago. A lot has happened since then." With a deep exhale, she brushed her fingers through her hair, coaxing the strands away from her face as her gaze tilted toward the ceiling. Again, he was struck by her profile, how pretty she looked in the most natural circumstances. It was arresting, almost distracting, and it made him need to focus to hear what she was saying. "Since day one, you've told me you don't believe in soulmates, then you turn around and say things like 'I always see you' and 'it's both, isn't it.' You've sort of shaken up everything I thought I knew."

Tim smirked. "Well, in that case, I don't know whether to be impressed with myself or apologize.'"

"An apology would be nice."

"… And what all am I apologizing for?"

"Would you like an annotated list?" Lucy retorted. "Because if so, we could be here all night."

Well. He deserved that, he thought, fighting a wince as he replied, "Look, this hasn't been exactly easy on me either, okay? Things were hard enough before…" he paused before saying more. It wasn't fair to burden her further with the issues of his personal life, many as they were. She'd already seen too much. He summed it up simply: "Well, before you came along."

Lucy deduced his meaning without him saying so; there was no disguising the compassion on her face, and it didn't take a genius to realize she was thinking of Isabel. "I know that," she whispered.

"I thought you were hurt tonight," he said quietly. Strange that so little time had passed since the panic set in when Jackson first told him she was at the doctor. It had only been hours. Hours that felt like long, full days. "I asked West if he'd seen you. He told me where you'd gone, so I figured that something must have happened during your shift…" he was flustered to the point that he'd started the story backwards; it came out as an uneven ramble. "But Talia didn't remember you getting hurt, so she couldn't tell me anything." Absently, he ran his thumb over the peeling corner of the beer label, a way to avoid her eyes as he admitted, "I was a little freaked out when you wouldn't answer my messages."

She shifted in her seat before saying, "Given what I know of your history, I can understand why you'd think the worst when someone you care about doesn't answer."

Tim hadn't even considered that. He wasn't sure he agreed. "Don't go all psych major on me, Chen. I never said I care about you."

A smile broke out across Lucy's face at his too-strong denial. "Oh, so you make a habit of running to urgent cares every time a rookie you train needs medical attention?"

Shit.

"Yea," she finished when he had no answer. "I thought so."

"Thought what?"

"You came to check on me."

Figured that much was obvious. "It's not as simple as that, but no matter what I say…" and he trailed off because he trusted her to guess.

"No matter what you say," she offered, "you feel something is different now?" The hope in her voice -and the undercurrent of hesitation- sent an invisible bolt of pain directly through his gut. Even now, she expected him to shoot her down.

He didn't. For once, Tim didn't, admitting aloud what he'd been thinking for days. For weeks. "I still don't know if I believe in soulmates, but I'm humble enough to admit that something's happened that I can't explain."

"No offense, Tim," Lucy replied, "but 'humble isn't a word I'd use to describe you."

He had to chuckle. Well, at least she took that well; better than she had "I don't believe in soulmates" anyways. He took another sip from his beer, weighing the half-empty bottle in his hands as he explained further. "It wasn't always like that, you know. I used to believe in the timers. Maybe not the way you do, but I think I was more open to it at least."

From the corner of his eye, he saw her nod before asking, "What made you change your mind?"

"Isabel," he replied automatically, then apologized. "Sorry. I know you probably don't want to hear that."

"No, it's okay. Do you want to tell me more?"

"You really want to know?" Lucy nodded again, and he allowed himself to share, speaking slowly and deliberately. In his mind, he saw Isabel as she'd been during that first happy year, recalling clearly her humor, her flirtatious nature. The sight of her bright blue eyes and her brilliant smile had almost instantly drawn him into a bliss that for years had felt untouchable. "We met when we were rookies and had this instant rapport. I'd never experienced that with anyone before her. I honestly don't think I ever connected with anyone immediately the way I did with her. So, I figured if that didn't make my timer go off…" he paused, trying to approach the rest of it tactfully. He didn't want to hurt Lucy; no matter the callous attitude he put forth, he had never actually set out to harm her, but Tim feared there was no way to address this kindly. The best he could do was be careful in his delivery. Anything less might feel like a blow. "I decided if my soulmate wasn't Isabel, then soulmates weren't real, because how could they be? I loved her more than I'd ever loved anyone, and my timer kept going like nothing had happened."

Then he waited. Waited for Lucy's reaction, for her to freak, to admonish him. Insult him, even. Hell, after all he'd put her through, both with timers and with the job, he expected her to react poorly. He wouldn't hold it against her; she'd earned a pass (maybe multiple) from him in this case.

He underestimated her. When she spoke, it was with compassion, even though her words were a gentle accusation. "For weeks now," she said, "you've told me you don't believe in timers, and you weren't always kind about it. You made me feel so small so often only to turn around and say things that gave me hope."

"I know."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" she wondered. "Why did you let me feel alone in this?"

"You could have your pick of reasons," Tim said, rattling off a list as if he were reading it from a page. "I'd already told you I don't believe in timers. I'm married. I'm your TO," he replied, and those were just the ones he thought of first. "There's a hundred different ways this gets complicated the more I'm transparent with you." He wouldn't pretend that that was all that stopped him, though, wouldn't act like his reticence was all from this desire to protect her. Tim knew he wasn't that noble.

"So what happens now? I promised Andersen it wouldn't be an issue. "

"And it won't be," he assured her. "I wasn't talking out of my ass when I said that our timers wouldn't affect my ability to train you. I'm not going to go easy on you."

"I never thought you would," she said, "but that doesn't mean I won't need clarity going forward. I can't have you being a hard-ass on shift only to go soft on me suddenly for reason I don't understand. You may be able to flip a switch like that, but that's not me. I can't do that. I have to have something clear and concise. I need to know which Tim I'm dealing with. I'll never be a good cop if I have to spend even a second of my day wondering which one you'll be. I need to have a hard line."

A few minutes passed in silence as Tim considered how to respond. She wasn't wrong that boundaries would be helpful; she hadn't been wrong when she first suggested it, either. He had been the stubborn one. "Obviously, the ideal thing would be to avoid talking about any of this during shifts, but I don't know how feasible that's going to be in the long run. I mean, you met Isabel on day two. This is already a damn mess." Yeah, a mess, and that was putting it pretty fucking nicely. "I think a good starting point is I'll only call you Chen or Boot during our shifts. And when we're off work or if there's ever something personal, I call you Lucy. And then you do the same for me. Bradford on. Tim off." It wasn't a perfect solution by any stretch of the imagination. Really, it felt a little bit like duct tape on a breaking dam, but what else could they do?

"That works for now," Lucy agreed, then tapped her nails against her beer bottle as she said, "So, Tim?"

He tried not to smile, but couldn't help himself; he had to admit, he liked hearing his name on her lips. "Yes, Lucy?"

"What did you mean by 'you should know by now I can always see you'?"

Oh, so Lopez had been right in figuring she hadn't understood what he was saying. He tried not to look embarrassed as he explained. "It sounds dumb, but I noticed it on your second day. There was that whole moment with our timers going off, but this was different. Even in a still room, or from across the bullpen, I see you first. Hell, sometimes you're the only one I see."

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes I'll see you and it's only you." Whether that was in the roll call or outside the doctor's office, it was her and only her. It happened anywhere, and it happened everywhere. "I know there are things happening around you, in the background, there are people or whatever, but you're the focus. The first three or four seconds, the rest may as well be invisible." He nervously cleared his throat before draining the rest of his beer.

Lucy fought a smile as she dwelled on his answer. He had to give her credit for that, noticing how she bit down on her lip as the expression threatened to spread across her face. "Try not to look too pleased with yourself," he teased, but secretly, silently goaded the smile on.

She adjusted her legs beneath her, leaning towards him as she responded. "You grabbed me by my elbow on the first day, and it felt like I put my arm over a bonfire." For a second, he didn't understand what she was saying. Only after a moment did he absorb that she was telling him about her own reaction. "It's happened a few times now. If I touch you or you touch me, there's a lot of heat."

His reaction seemed minor by comparison. Sure, the sight fuckery could get annoying, but at least it wasn't physical or harmful; he didn't feel it. He looked down at his almost empty beer bottle, asking quietly, "It doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"No. No, it's not nearly as intense as it was on the first day."

"Good," Tim said, then stood to leave. Lucy saw him out. "You're back with me tomorrow," he mentioned as they stood beside the door. "I'm sure Talia will be glad to have Nolan back." He only barely concealed a sneer over the other rookie's name.

"Yeah, because I was such a burden for her," Lucy joked. "You'll be glad to give Jackson back to Lopez, right?"

Sure, now that he felt like West was less of a liability. "Got a few of his kinks worked out. I think I'm returning him improved."

Again, she smiled at him. How had Nolan managed to stay upright in the face of it? Both times he felt like she could ask for the moon, and he'd gladly lasso it at her request.

… Ok, so… there was a chance he was a little bit of a sucker for her already.

"Thank you."

"I didn't do it for you," Tim replied, briefly worried he'd spoken his thoughts aloud.

"I'm not saying you did, but he's my friend. It still means a lot to me that you helped him instead of just saying 'tough luck.'"

"Uh huh," he agreed awkwardly, "sure." Then he looked away, avoiding her eyes as he asked, "Next time you're hurt, can you let me know? Or at least answer the phone?"

Lucy sighed before she admitted, "I wasn't hurt tonight."

"You weren't?

"No," she replied. "I was thinking of getting my timer removed. I didn't, but I came close."

Oh, fuck, he thought, shifting onto his back foot as her confession landed with the force of a clenched fist. No wonder she hadn't answered; no wonder she hadn't said a damn thing to West. Even Bishop hadn't known, but she'd had her suspicions. It felt like his heart hit the floor. He'd been mistaken in assuming Lucy wasn't hurt just because he didn't see an injury. She was hurt, and he had hurt her; he had been hurting her since the moment they met. Why else would she be willing to give up her timer, a thing she treasured? They were still almost strangers, but Tim knew her well enough by now to understand that the Lucy he met a little over a month ago would never have done that. She wouldn't have even considered it, and oh God, thank goodness she had backed down. He hadn't looked at his timer, but with her not answering his calls… if the clock on his wrist had blinked to dashes while she was out of contact, that really would've been too much to take. Tim shuddered to think what he might have done had his timer suddenly gone blank. He'd already behaved just barely this side of sane that night.

Of course, he couldn't say any of that to Lucy. To her, he just nodded. "I'm not sure what I think matters much to you in this case, but I'm glad you didn't." Then, with a final glance back, he turned to go. "Goodnight, Boot."