He watched Lucy as he walked away. After giving her the photograph -after "okay" and all the dozen or so things that single word could have meant- they said nothing else. They didn't really need to, to be honest, and Tim was of the mind that more words at that point would have spoiled it. He watched her take the few steps from where they'd spoken to round her driver's seat, his eyes trained on her back, waiting until she was safely inside her vehicle to turn his gaze forward. After that, he didn't drive so much as fucking float home, his body humming with a high that threatened to keep him up all night until a call from Angela brought him down from the clouds with all the effectiveness of an anchor.

"Valentine's Day is lame as shit," she grumbled over the phone. "I'm coming over." Thirty minutes after Tim pulled into his driveway, Angela walked in carrying a six-pack of beer. She handed him one and sank into the couch with a huff.

"Bad day?" he asked.

Angela nodded. "The fucking worst."

The two friends could not have had more opposite nights. While Tim and Lucy had ended the evening on a hopeful note, Angela and Wesley had hit their first (and a somewhat major) bump. It was stupid, Angela said, her sentences clipped by frequent pulls from her can of beer; a big, dumb fight, all because she got jealous and snooped in Wes' phone. It was a massive breach of trust that, soulmate or not, Wesley had a hard time forgiving.

"He'll get over it," Tim tried to console, but the offering felt thin even to him. He had no idea whether that was true.

"What if he doesn't?" Angela asked. "What if I've blown it already?"

"If the roles were reversed, would you forgive him?"

She only considered it for a moment before answering. "I mean, sure, but that's not even a question. Wesley isn't like me. He doesn't do jealousy."

"He said that?"

"No, he didn't say exactly that, but he's so chill about what my life was like before our timers went off. He doesn't care."

"And you do?"

"Of course I do! I mean, why wouldn't I?" She finished her beer with one last gulp but did not reach for another. "I didn't think it would be this… hard. Is it supposed to be this hard?" She looked at him once before chuckling. "Dumb question, right? Look who I'm asking."

"I think the timers going off is the easy part, Lopez," Tim answered quietly. Only think? No, he fucking knew that to be the truth, especially in his case. Everything after zeroing out had taken effort. That was true while he was still in denial about soulmates and when he accepted them as fact. It had been work; worth doing, to be sure, and something he no longer wished away, but still, work.

"I guess you're right," Angela answered before ribbing him with a smirk. "Even if I'm jealous, it could be worse, huh? At least he's not my rookie?"

"And 'at least you're not married'. Yeah, yeah, yuk it up." He finished his beer and reached for a second, cracking the top before announcing, "Isabel and I are getting divorced."

She nodded; to anyone that knew him well, the news would be no surprise, and Angela knew him the best. "I saw that one coming. You okay?"

He shrugged. "Not thrilled about it, but it was time."

She nodded again before asking, "Have you told Lucy?"

"Yeah. She knows."

At that, Angela's demeanor shifted immediately. "Oh, my God."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Lopez."

"I'm not, I just…" she huffed out a laugh of disbelief. "Wow. I'm happy for you guys."

"Why? Nothing is changing. I'm still her TO."

"But I thought-"

He stopped her sentence in its tracks. "I'm still her TO," he repeated and meant it just as much for her as he did for himself. Yes, he was certain of Lucy's place in his life, both currently and in the future, but he was only too aware of the imbalance represented in the jobs. He tried to hold the two truths in equal priority: there was Lucy as his soulmate, and Lucy as his rookie.

It wouldn't be easy.

It wouldn't be easy, because Lucy walked into the roll call room the next day, and all he could think about was the way her lips smiled as she whispered "Okay" the night before. Was it acknowledgment? Agreement? Whatever it was, she'd spoken it with all the weight and reverence of a vow, and his heart pounded nervously in his chest as she passed his row to find her seat. It was not the first time he found himself distracted by Lucy's presence during the roll call, and he knew by now it probably wouldn't be the last. She looked a little rushed as she hurried to the table she shared with Nolan and West. Shift hadn't even started yet, but already a few strands of hair had come loose from the low knot on the nape of her neck. The gig line on her uniform was just a little askew, but that wasn't an LAPD protocol so much as it was a Bradford one carried over from his Army days. Early on in training, he probably would've gotten on her case about it. A month ago, even, he might have given her a hard time. As it was currently, Tim decided to let both infractions (minor though they were) slide.

She chanced a glance back at him for a second before the roll call started, her smile secretive and quick. It was a look anyone would've missed if they hadn't been watching for it. He couldn't help it; he smiled, too, then sank down low in his seat just as Grey took the podium. The roll call itself was pretty basic; information about a streak of car break-ins that had occurred in their district, and reminders about procedures concerning body cameras. All in all, a straightforward meeting, but after it ended Grey called Tim to the podium.

"It's good to have you back, Officer Bradford," he greeted. "I'm going to need to make a switch to the schedule. Keep you on for a half-shift today, then put you and Chen on night shifts for a while, okay?"

Tim tried to avoid visibly wincing. Night shifts, albeit necessary, were often his least favorite shift to work consistently. He was already dreading the disruption to his sleep schedule. "Yes, sir. When are you making the switch?"

"Effective today, for about two weeks. All the TO units are taking a turn."

"And we're first? Lucky us." It was the closest to complaining he'd dare get with a superior, even one as understanding as Sergeant Grey. After being dismissed, Tim caught up to Lucy as she gathered their gear for the day, walking beside her as he explained the change to their schedule.

Tim expected her to be apprehensive about the switch to nights; his rookies usually were about their first night shifts, so he was surprised when Lucy's initial reaction was enthusiasm. She told him brightly, "That's great actually. I can use the afternoon to find a new apartment."

New apartment? "What happened with your old place?"

Lucy let out a sigh as they approached the shop. Tim opened the trunk for her, helping her load in while she explained, "The owner sold the building to a developer. Everyone's getting evicted."

"Gotta love gentrification," he replied dryly, then asked, "Need some help finding a new place?"

"Not unless you have real estate connections I don't know about." Then, having placed the last bag in the trunk, she brought the hatch down with a slam.

"Wish I did, but no."

"Don't know if there's much you can help with, except looking." She sounded and looked resigned saying it. "But I doubt you really want to drive me all over LA during your downtime. Isn't that, like, half of your day job?"

As they rounded the shop to their different doors, Tim replied, "I didn't say it's my idea of a fun time," kind of the opposite, actually, "but I'd do it if you asked."

Lucy didn't answer until they were both seated and buckled in. "No. It's okay. If anything I'll just ask Jackson or Nolan to help." She smiled a little at the mention of Nolan. "Nolan could be good for this, actually. His experience as a contractor might come in handy." She chuckled at her own pun, adding, "Get it? Handy?"

Under his breath, Tim mumbled, "I'm handy too, you know."

"What's going on? Do you have something against him?"

"Didn't say that," he paused to check both mirrors before backing out of the lot. "Look. Let me help you, don't let me help you. It really makes no difference to me."

"… Would you like to help me find a new apartment?"

Hadn't he made that clear? "I can, if it's important to you."

"It isn't, but it sure seemed important to you a second ago."

"It's not."

"Then don't come."

"But you just asked me to!"

"Then come."

"Only if you want me to."

"Oh my God. Just come with okay?" Over the course of their conversation, Lucy pressed one hand to her forehead and closed her eyes in irritation, in exasperation. When she opened them, she almost appeared flustered. It was cute, Tim thought; she was cute, and for the first time ever, it did not feel like some sort of betrayal for him to think so.

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"Are you kidding me? Never."

"Hey, remember veto? Because veto. Instant veto."

So it went that afternoon as they toured the apartments on Lucy's list of leads. The first place was a real fucking dud, as was the second. And the third… and the fourth. It ended up that Tim was glad that Lucy included him in the search, because thanks to over a decade on the job, he had a keen sense for bullshit detection and cop eyes for danger. Both things would come in handy in finding her the best apartment, and both of which alerted him to the more nefarious purposes of the landlord as they walked through the fifth apartment on her list. Even if Tim's instincts hadn't been buzzing from the second he laid eyes on the guy, his words made his intentions clear.

"She single?" the landlord asked Tim in a slithery whisper as Lucy lingered behind to examine the galley-style kitchen. Tim's reply was an honest (and hesitant) yes, to which the man licked his lips. "Nice," he said, and it took everything in Tim to not dignify that with a response in either the verbal or physical sense.

As soon as he could, though, he surreptitiously directed Lucy towards the bedroom, closing the door before saying in a hissed whisper, "That guy looks like he'll put hidden cameras in your shower the second you move in."

To his horror, Lucy's first reaction was to show the landlord grace. "For all you know, he's a perfectly nice person."

Yeah, right. As if Tim hadn't caught the man staring at her ass three separate times since the moment she walked in. "I'm just saying, you shouldn't live here."

"Well, I've gotta live somewhere," she replied and crossed her arms one over the other. "You have tried to get me to turn down every single place we've looked at. You said 'no' to one apartment because of the crown molding!"

He thought back to the fourth apartment, his instant veto of the bunch. "I'm not sorry about that. Who does orange crown molding?" he replied. There was more that made the property totally uninhabitable for her, though. He spotted mold underneath the bathroom sink, the dishwasher was ancient, and oh yeah, a registered sex offender lived in the apartment directly below it.

Lucy chuckled but did not back off her point. "Look, Tim. I can't afford to be too picky, all right? All I'm looking for is a roof that doesn't leak and walls that keep out most of my neighbors' noises."

"Okay. Okay," he relented, then cast a cautious look around. He still didn't like the landlord at all, and unfortunately, the place itself earned the other guy no points. The room reeked of stale weed smoke, the floor was fucking filthy, and the blinds were dingy and stained. Tim couldn't imagine letting an enemy live there, let alone Lucy. "Honestly, though… is this one it?"

"Are you kidding?" she guffawed. "No way! This place is a nightmare and the landlord is creepy." Lucy jerked her head once in the direction of the door before grabbing Tim by the arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist as she pulled him urgently towards the hall. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Well," he began later as he drove her back to her apartment, "if worse comes to worse, you can always live with your parents, right?"

"So I can hear about why I'm disappointing them morning, noon, and night, in excruciating detail? Not likely, Besides, I haven't spoken to them since before Christmas."

"What do you mean?"

She smiled but it was tight; forced. "Let's just say they weren't thrilled that I worked Christmas Day."

"Oh." She hadn't spoken with them since Christmas Day? But that was months ago, he thought. Odd, for someone as close to her parents as Lucy was… and she was, wasn't she? Or had he been mistaken in assuming that, misunderstanding proximity for presence? It struck Tim suddenly that no, he didn't know for sure Lucy was close to her parents. In fact, he knew very little about Lucy's life at all. She knew more about his than he did about hers, purely because of the way circumstances had inserted herself into the thick of it. Had he been wrong in assuming she was close to her parents? He supposed it wasn't the right time to ask. Instead, he commented, "Wish you'd said something. If I'd known-"

"-You would've traded back?"

For himself? Probably not. For her? Well… he liked to think he would've at least tried, even back then. He didn't say so, though, and soon enough, Lucy continued.

"We both know you wouldn't have, and you shouldn't have either. It's better that people with kids got to have that time at home."

"Still," he replied, expressing remorse that she had been forced to reap the sad consequence of a choice that had ultimately not been hers, "it sucks that that happened."

She shrugged; for what little he knew about her, he at least knew her well enough to sense that that gesture rang a little false and required some effort. "It was a long time coming. My parents didn't want me to join the academy. If not then, we would've come to verbal blows sooner or later over it."

Her parents hadn't wanted her to join the academy? Now how the hell had that never come up? Was he so far up his own ass that he'd never thought to ask?

"So, no," Lucy finished, "I can't go live with my parents, but if it really comes down to it, I'm sure I could crash with Nolan for a few days."

"I think I'd rather see you homeless than living with Nolan." He meant it as a joke. Mostly.

"… Wow. Wow. You really don't like him, do you?"

"I like him just fine," Tim retorted, and after a second jab at the other man's expense (which earned him a warning from Lucy herself), he backed down. "Fine, fine. I'll try to be nicer to the guy."

"Thank you."

"After work, I mean." When he sensed her gaze on his face, Tim smirked. "I have my limits."

He did not help her after that first day, and not because he didn't offer. Lucy continued to search on her own, and they completed their course of night shifts without her finding a new place to lease. It was midway through their first shift back on their regular schedule that she turned to Tim with a question.

"Circumstances dictate actions, right?" She asked, and waited until he nodded before continuing. "So, is it underhanded for a cop to offer to rent an apartment they know is a crime scene?"

Tim fought a sigh. "What kind of crime scene are we talking about here?" She mumbled a reply he couldn't quite hear. "A what?"

"A murder."

"… You want to live in a murder apartment?"

"No, I don't want to, but I would if I have to." When he groaned, she defended firmly, "The Langston on Wilshire is nice, Tim!"

"Except for that murder."

"… The Langston on Wilshire is otherwise nice, Tim!" she amended, and the addition of her caveat almost made him laugh. He disguised it under a scoff, and other than "What? I said nice, not perfect," no more was said on the subject by either. An hour had passed in relative silence when the captain ordered their unit back to the station, where they and several others convened for a meeting.

It was a lot of details to take in at once, but from what Tim gathered, the murder victim found at the Langston apartments (and at that, he side-eyed Lucy), was connected to gang activity. La Eme, if the intel was right, and Bishop and Nolan's brief investigation into his killing had almost accidentally blown the cover of an officer working within the gang. The officer, a man named Ortiz, had alerted Captain Andersen that a million in drug money would be going out that night. Given that seizing that much hard cash would cause a significant hit to their operation, a raid was pieced together quickly, and the rest of the shift passed in frantic preparation.

All things considered, the raid went well. Lucy, carrying the ram, acted as the breacher, and it was a point of pride for Tim that she broke through the door in a single strike. Several criminals, surprised by their entry, were quickly apprehended, and it was not long before the squad moved on to the second half of the op. A million dollars in cash sat stacked on a pallet in the center of one of the rooms in the downstairs half of the house, and the three rookies were assigned to stand guard. Tim lingered outside the room as Bishop relayed a list of instructions to the trio. Angela joined him in waiting, looking on silently for a second or two before nudging his ribcage with her elbow.

"You looking to get your chopper license, Bradford?" she asked.

He glanced at her once before looking back at where their boots stood at attention, listening intently to Bishop's orders. "I don't know what you mean by that."

She snickered. "I mean you're hovering. Come on." Angela clapped a hand to his shoulder and nodded towards the exit. "Bishop's got this. Let's head out."

As they walked outside, Tim said, "Did you see that breach? Chen got it on her first try."

"Yeah, I was there," Angela replied with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"I'm just saying, it was impressive."

There was no hiding Angela's smirk, and she didn't even try as they headed down the road towards their vehicles. "Tim Bradford, impressed by a rookie? My, how things have changed."

The rookies were given the benefit of sleeping in (sort of) after a long night out guarding the cash. Unfortunately, that courtesy was not extended to their TOs. Despite the fact that shift was supposed to begin for all of them at noon, Tim was awoken by a stern call from Sergeant Grey and headed into the station a little before eight in the morning. He and the other TO units were met by the captain and sergeant, who informed them with dual glowers to suit up and get their rookies, quickly. The command left no room for questions, even clarifying ones, and each did as requested before departing separately to their rookies' homes.

Tim knocked on Lucy's door first, but heard no sound or movement inside, so he decided to call her. There was the sound of rustling when she answered, then a thud and a muted, "Ow."

"Lucy?"

"Tim?" Her voice was groggy when she asked, "What's going on?"

"Are you still sleeping?"

"My shift doesn't start until noon."

Geez, she sounded half-dead. How long did the money counters take, anyway? "Captain wants to see us. You have to come in now."

"Now?"

He knocked on the door again, and into the phone, repeated, "Now."

A minute later, she opened the door, wearing a hoodie that covered her torso, and shorts that concealed next to nothing. All but three or four inches of her thighs were exposed to his gaze, and it took a surprising amount of willpower to keep his stare up, to not ogle.

After a once-over that preceded him asking, "Did you just wake up," that is.

"I had a late night," she retorted sharply before heading back into her apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow. He'd only been in her apartment once before, and on that night, had gone no farther than the living room. Curiosity convinced him to follow, finding her as she searched through her dresser for clothes for the day. While she looked, Tim tried to take note of the room, but his brain didn't seem to grip more than the wrinkled sheets, turquoise pillows, and the faded scent of her perfume in the air.

He'd blame that on the still-present image of her strong, shapely legs, and he secretly warred against the temptation to look for as long as he was able. Before long, she turned to face him. Lucy had been speaking, but thanks to his distracted state, he hadn't heard a word. "What?"

There was the ghost of a smile on her lips as she made herself clearer. "You're gonna need to leave for this part, Bradford."

Realizing she was trying to dress, he backed away with an "Oh, shit," and she closed the door on him.

They rode separately to the station; Lucy in her car, Tim in a patrol vehicle, and upon entering the station joined the others in the roll call room. No one knew what was happening still, just what the Captain and sergeant had last instructed, and when the two superiors entered the room, they were serious and firm.

"Money counters say they came up short last night," Captain Andersen began, launching straight into their reason for gathering. "They're missing two-hundred-fifty thousand dollars."

"You three were the only ones left alone with the money." With Grey's additional comment, the context was complete. It was not an outright accusation, but there it was; the rookies were implicated in the theft, and naturally, the first thing Tim thought about was Lucy. His eyes went to her face first, but she did not return his look as Nolan offered a weak explanation.

"The money counters must have made a mistake," the older rookie theorized, a suggestion that Andersen quickly shot down.

"There's been no mistake," she replied and leveled the rest of the information in a cold voice. The words of three probationary offers would not be enough to absolve them. A polygraph was required from all three. "Now, I can't make you take one," she explained. "It would have to be voluntary."

A sharp, quiet inhale of breath from Lucy, who understood immediately the implication of the Captain's statement. Her job was literally on the line. All three were.

And there was almost nothing Tim could do to stop it.

He felt terrible. Now that he knew what Lucy had given up to be an officer, he wanted to make sure she could stay one. It was easier said than done, though. All three rookies passed the polygraph, but so what? A passed polygraph meant very little when the fact remained that the money was still missing. Captain Andersen sent the rookie officers home to await further instruction, and Tim caught up with Lucy as she headed towards the parking garage.

"It's going to be okay," he opened with, which was met with a scoff.

"Is it? Because I passed a polygraph and I still might get fired."

"That's not gonna happen," Tim replied, adding silently, I won't let it, but even unspoken, it was not the truth. It was what he wished were true, sure, but there was so much out of his control no matter how much he would have liked to pretend otherwise. He could see that, the more Lucy spoke, the more (understandably) upset she got, and when she referenced the fact it could end her career, all he could really do was try to soothe her worries.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, okay?" Tim replied as they reached her car. "No one thinks you took it." In fact, that had been a discussion between the training officers as they waited for the rookies to complete their polygraphs. Angela maintained that West could never, and Talia pointed out that if two of them worked in cooperation, they could've stolen it if the third had left the room at some point. For his part, Tim didn't think Nolan was capable of that level of theft, and given what Lucy had sacrificed to become an officer, it didn't make sense for her to risk it all by stealing, either.

"Me and Bishop and Lopez, we're going to keep looking," he continued. They'd keep looking and, with any luck, they would locate the money before any more fallout occurred. "You just stay calm and focus on… I don't know, whatever it is you're about to go do." Considering how she'd started her morning with the rudest possible awakening, he guessed, "I assume you're going back to bed?"

"I wish," she chuckled wryly. "I'm going to try to check out the murder apartment."

Tim tried not to cringe at the moniker, accurate though it may have been. "You know, if you get it, we're gonna have to call it something else."

"What? You don't like 'murder apartment'? It makes me feel like I'm on Buzzfeed Unsolved." She looked disappointed when the reference went over his head. "Seriously? Wow, I have so much to show you.' The smallest smirk on her face, something like levity in a very down moment, was a nice (if fleeting) break from the seriousness of the situation.

Like most breaks, it was short-lived.

Tim only heard from her once more that afternoon. Later that day, as he and the other TO units continued to investigate the cash's disappearance, Lucy called to inform him she got the apartment. It was a huge relief for her (and by extension, for him), but he couldn't exactly relish the news.

Especially not with Angela riding shotgun, who looked at him with growing amusement for every second he remained on the phone.

"How's it going? Lucy asked, and he turned away from Angela's grin to answer quietly.

"Can't tell you much, Boot," he replied, and a few seconds later, Lucy ended the call. There was silence in the shop until Tim said, "I know you want to say something, Lopez."

"So… how's Lucy?"

"She's fine," he replied. "She's been looking for a new apartment."

"Sounds like she got lucky finally."

"Yeah, hopefully not for the last time today," he agreed in a mumble. When Angela guffawed at his slip, he rushed to add, "I'm talking about the money, Lopez."

"Sure, you are," she teased. "Very interesting that she called you, I guess. It's almost like you're friends."

"Yes, and?"

"And nothing! It's nice. You know what they say: friendship is the foundation of any good relationship."

"Lopez."

"I know, I know. I'm just saying—oh, hold on." Her teasing was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. "It's West." Angela answered the call, and within moments, her eyes turned to Tim, her expression and demeanor a complete flip from the lighter mood of just seconds before. "Where is she?"

She?

"Got it. We're right behind you." She hung up and reached for the radio. "7-Adam-19, requesting backup and airship to Mineral Wells Trail. Officer in danger." Dispatch replied with "copy that" just as Angela flipped the switch on the siren and lights. "How fast can you get us to Griffith Park?"

"What's going on?"

"Lucy's in trouble," was all she said, and the words had barely left her mouth before he laid on the gas, pressing the pedal to the floor. Afterward, Tim barely remembered tearing through the city, but despite how leaden his foot felt every mile seemed to crawl, every minute, an hour. Soon, West was heard again over the radio with an update about their location, and not long after that, a cavalry of police vehicles converged onto Griffith Park Drive. A few black SUVs had blocked the dirt and gravel road, and just beyond them, Tim could see the orange roof of his rookie's Datsun. Lucy herself was nowhere to be found.

He screeched to a stop and was out of the shop without a word to Lopez or any other officer. Lucy came into view, accompanied by Nolan, who trailed behind directing a man in cuffs down the hill. Still, he ran, his boots kicking up dust and gravel. It was only when he was a few feet from Lucy that he slid to a skittered halt.

She was not hurt. That was the first, most important thing he noticed. Miraculously, she'd managed to sustain no major injury, but a second glance over her body from head to toe showed cuts on her palms and a red mark near her hairline. A bruise had started to spread slowly outward. Tim pointed to it, saying, "Looks like he got you a little bit, Boot," and hated that, to his own ears, his voice sounded small, almost weak as it stumbled through the sentence. He was anxious to check on her wounds, even though they were minor. He wanted to ask how she felt.

He refrained, though it took a good deal of willpower to do so. There was the crowd to think of, after all, and Tim was only too aware of the eyes of other officers on their backs as he knelt beside Lucy to take a closer look at her car's dented fender. Tim stayed close but kept a respectable distance between them, and did not completely leave her side as EMTs examined her wounds. She didn't need to be taken in, but he insisted she let them check out her bruise and the scratches on her hands. Her palms were promptly cleaned and bandaged. She showed no sign of a concussion, and shortly after being cleared by the medics, Sergeant Grey arrived on the scene. When the sergeant congratulated her on solving the case of the missing cash (and taking a few gang members down to do it; no small feat, that, Grey had said) Tim couldn't help but feel proud. Proud of his rookie, proud of his…yeah. Just really, really fucking proud.

The home security system was a housewarming present, or so Tim told himself. At almost $200 for the base station, sensors, and doorbell camera, it was by far the most expensive housewarming gift he had ever purchased in his adult life, but when Lucy let him into the apartment and he saw the bloodstain on the carpet, he could only think one thing.

Yeah. Worth it.

Other than the gigantic rust-colored mark on the otherwise beige carpet, though, the apartment was pretty nice. "Upscale for a gang member" was how Lucy had described it to him in passing, and she hadn't been off in saying so. There were more windows than in her old place, and the kitchen set up -with its gas range and stainless steel appliances- was better than her former apartment by miles.

"Want me to set it up for you?" he asked after presenting her with the security system. In response, Lucy reached for the box.

"You don't have to do that," she replied with a smile. "I can just ask Nolan to do it."

At this, he held the box tighter and frowned. It wasn't the first time she'd brought up her friend by name when Tim had expressed a desire to help her, and although it was probably not her intention, it was beginning to grate on his nerves a little (just a little).

"Should I feel insulted that you keep trying to ask Nolan to do things when I've already offered?"

"What?" At this, she was visibly confused, a fact her half-laugh didn't mask. "Insulted? He's my friend."

"I know."

"And that bothers you? That he's my friend?"

"No, it's not that," Tim replied softly, then gestured to the band on her left wrist; to Nolan's watch, which had been ever-present on Lucy's arm since the night she considered getting the timer removed. It concealed her timer still, blocking the whole strip from view. "It's that."

Lucy covered the clock face with her hand. "What's wrong with my watch?"

"It's not the watch. It's what it means."

Her brow knit together. "Okay. I'm officially confused."

"I'm bad at this… Can I be honest?"

"… Sure."

"Talia mentioned a while ago why you wear the watch." He could still remember her explanation clearly, paired as it was with a warning. Surely you've noticed that, right? That she hides her timer under his watch? You're kidding yourself if you think you can keep this above reproach forever. "Look, all that's fine. I don't blame you for covering your timer after the way I treated you. It's not like I gave you much of a choice, right? I know you had to rely on Nolan a lot when we first met… and I regret it now." He was genuinely sorry, and consequently a little unsure of how to feel when she broke into a smirk before speaking.

"Tim," she started, and to his eyes, it was clear she was attempting (and sort of failing) to fight back laughter, "are you trying to apologize?"

"Like I said, I'm bad at this."

"So I see. You know you have to actually say 'I'm sorry' for it to count as an apology, right?"

Man, she really wasn't giving him an inch, was she? Good. He deserved that ribbing and more, but still, Tim tried to smile as he answered truthfully, "I was working up to it. I'm sorry."

"I forgave you a long time ago, but it's still nice to hear. Thank you."

"You're welcome." There was an awkward pause as his hands drummed against the security system box. "So… am I setting this up or not?" He almost expected her to still volunteer Nolan for the job, just to mess with him a little, but Lucy only chuckled once more and nodded.

"Sure. Thanks."

He turned away, then paused. "There's just one more thing. You have more than Nolan and West in your corner now, okay? Just… remember that."

"I will." Her response came quickly, almost glibly. Sensing that she maybe didn't believe him, Tim tried to lean on the point.

"Lucy, I'm serious. I'm… I just…" Well, fuck. What he wanted to share -what he was trying to share- wasn't anything incredibly deep or profound. He just wanted her to know he was on her side. Not just on her side, but that she had, in the last few weeks, become his priority. As his rookie, her education and her safety were paramount. As her soulmate, he'd come to think his primary concern was for her happiness. He was trying to serve both aspects equally, to the best of his ability.

And now, as he actually tried to tell her so, he froze.

Unfortunately, Tim's statement remained unfinished; before he got the words together, Jackson entered the apartment without knocking, and the rest of the sentence was lost as Lucy greeted her friend with enthusiasm.

"Am I interrupting something?" West asked cheekily, which she dismissed immediately.

"Don't make it weird, man," she said, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Tim is helping me." Lucy instructed West on where to start with cleaning before turning back to Tim. "Sorry. You were saying something before we were rudely interrupted." At that, she cast a wry glance back at West, who did not look at all sorry.

Tim shook his head and faked a small snicker before fibbing. "Um… don't worry about it. I forgot what I was going to say." Even if he could wrangle his scattered thoughts into something like a coherent declaration, he didn't want to finish this particular heart-to-heart with an audience (even a small one). Besides, surely Lucy deserved better than a half-formed expression of… whatever this was. More than friendship, definitely; significant, and in some ways more committed, but still a great deal of distance to cover before he could consider it something deeper. Before he'd call it love, even if he was more certain than ever that that was in their future. Until that time came, though, what the hell could he call it now? Maybe it was better to hold off until more time had passed. Maybe it was better to wait until he knew for sure just what it was he was naming.

Yeah, Tim decided as he excused himself, stepping away from the pair in order to begin installing the alarm. This was a conversation that could wait until later. They had time, right? They had time.

A/N: This chapter kind of kicked my butt! TiMER Tim suddenly decided he had a lot to say and surprised me with a 5k first draft, which before now had never happened with his POV.

You'll notice that a lot of dialogue from Lucy's POV appeared here, the most of any update so far. To an extent, that's going to be unavoidable going forward. Now that their stories are starting to sync up a little more, inevitably some of the conversations will repeat. I'm trying to keep it interesting for you by showing Tim's thought process as well as including new bits that didn't appear in Lucy's POV.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading! Come find me on twitter: meadow_suz