News of reversals always put Tim on edge, and this latest instance was bound to be no exception. He'd begged off of meeting up with Talia and Angela the night before, choosing to study for the sergeant's exam instead. Both of his friends understood his decision and were kind enough to mock him only a little for what they described as a long overdue show of ambition. He made the mistake of staying up too late trying (and ultimately failing) to keep his focus, struggling through the first few chapters of a leadership book assigned by the chief of police. Having retained very little of what he read, Tim felt defeated as he put the text aside shortly before midnight. That was enough to make him irritable during his next shift, but as the day of reversals progressed, the majority of his ire could be blamed on the sudden, unwelcome appearance of one Detective Murphy.

Murphy had been the investigating officer as Isabel became addicted and declined while working undercover in the narcotics division; she'd taken an almost sick delight in lording her knowledge over Tim, and in the past had made many comments that warned him not to step a single toe out of line on her watch. On the first day of reversals, when Lucy pulled over a speeding driver and found a talk show host behind the wheel, Tim was instantly suspicious. Mario Lopez tried to charm Lucy, offering them both bribes in the form of tickets or meeting a favorite celebrity. Lucy refused (she knew better than to accept), and it didn't take long for Tim to spot Murphy parked not too far away, watching the exchange with a smug expression. When confronted she was haughty, bordering on hostile.

"If I'd known it was you, Bradford, I would've put a strung-out junkie behind the wheel instead," she said snidely before driving away.

He made mention of it that evening, referencing it with a great deal of snark once Isabel arrived just a few minutes after he'd come home after work.

"Saw your old friend Murphy today," Tim said once she'd thanked her Uber driver and closed the car door behind her.

Isabel, like him, held no real fondness for the detective, but still, she asked, "And how is dear old Detective Murphy?"

"Self-righteous, as usual," he replied, but held back on sharing the specifics of her dig. Even without it, they both snickered, bonding over their disdain for the detective before sharing a short hug. "You look great," he said after they'd pulled apart. It was the truth; since Valentine's Day, Isabel had continued to improve in health. Her cheeks were fuller, and the sharp angles of her body had softened as she recovered. She'd gotten a haircut since he saw her last, bringing the length to just above her shoulders.

She shrugged off his compliment, replying with a smile, "Please. I look like myself."

"What did you think I meant?"

To that, she smiled again but did not answer the question. Her attention turned to the house. Soon enough, her expression grew somber. "Oh, my," she said, a tremble in her voice.

Tim placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't have to do this today. There's no rush."

"I know," Isabel replied, glancing up at him. "It's just so strange."

"What's strange?"

"This. Being here after so long." She paused and took a deep, steadying breath. "Okay. Let's do this."

Tim let Isabel lead the way, following behind again as she walked into the living room. The house was mostly unchanged since she'd last seen it, but there were new pictures on the shelves. Those, she looked over with great interest, giggling at his younger self and casting frequent looks in his direction to compare the two versions. He let her look and bore her teasing, knowing she would move on from it before long. She did, her attention turning to the book he'd left on the couch the night before.

"'Rising Through the Ranks: Leadership Tools and Techniques for Law Enforcement'." Isabel looked at him with a lifted brow before asking, "Is this just a little light reading, or has something changed?"

Tim felt almost shy admitting, "I'm studying for the sergeant's exam in a few months."

"But you loved patrol."

"I still do," he replied. "It's just time to try something new."

She carefully returned the book back to its original place. "Well, it's almost like I never left," she joked just as their large wedding portrait caught her eye. "Oh, jeez, I can't believe you still have this up." Isabel pointed to the picture with a chuckle.

"Why not? I look hot in it." That comment earned him a full laugh, and he picked the frame up by its edges to remind her why it remained in place. "I keep forgetting to go get spackle," he said, gesturing to the many holes that dotted the wall beneath the frame; the evidence of her handiwork (or distinct lack thereof) from years before.

"Oh man, I remember now! I'd begged you for weeks to hang this, and you kept forgetting. So I decided 'fuck it' and did it myself." She blushed, covering the rest of her laugh with her hand as he carefully put the portrait back on its hooks.

After that, Tim showed her where he'd stored the shared belongings he thought might interest her, directing her to the spare room on the right side of the hall. He left her to sort through the boxes alone, and in the meantime ordered takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant just a few blocks down the road.

"Ooo, Jade Villa?" she asked as she walked down the hall carrying a single, half-full box.

"For old times' sake," he replied as he placed the containers on the dining room table before eyeing the items she'd decided to take. "Is that all you want?"

Isabel shrugged as she took a seat at the table. "It's all I need."

They ate quickly, and as Isabel cracked open her fortune cookie to end the meal, Tim spoke.

"You know," he said, "we should discuss what to do with the house."

She read her fortune before answering. "'Look in the mirror without admiring your reflection'. I think this one was supposed to be yours," Isabel teased, tossing the strip of paper at him.

"Isabel."

"I heard you," she replied, then slouched in her chair before asking, "What do you mean by 'do with it'?"

"Exactly that. What are we going to do with the house?"

"What do I need a house for? You live here and I'm staying in a sober living facility."

"You're on the deed," he countered.

"Yeah, but not the mortgage." Isabel shrugged. "It's more your house than mine, now. We both know that."

He looked away. "I don't know if I agree."

"Tim." She reached across the table toward his hand. He let her take it, her gentle grip wrapping around his fingers. "I'm not going to fight you for the house," she said earnestly, "and I wouldn't dream of making you sell it. You've already done so much for me." Emotion filled her eyes then, the twinkle of tears forming beneath her irises before she blinked them away. "I want to keep this divorce as quick and as clean as possible."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"It means exactly that. I don't want more from you and I know you don't need anything from me. If something comes up, we can use a mediator."

Tim was hesitant to agree, wondering aloud, "You aren't going to try to sue me for alimony or my pension or something?"

At his question, Isabel looked wounded. "You really think I'd do that?"

Currently? No; no, he didn't, but their past was not so distant that he could say so for certain. "I'm just trying to protect my future."

"Your future. Right." She laughed, but it had a little bite to it, bordering on a scoff. "How is Lucy, anyway?"

The sharp turn in topics felt a little like bait, but Tim answered truthfully. "She's fine," he replied. "Broke up with her boyfriend a little while back, but I think she's over him."

Isabel didn't seem surprised by the news, and she told him as much. "Can't say I'm shocked. I bet that made you happy."

"It's not like that."

"Sure, it's not now. It will be one day. Won't it?" Then, she asked, "Does she hate me?"

The question was so far out of left field that he almost laughed. "What? No. Isabel, no." She hadn't been exactly thrilled to find out he was married when they met, but as far as he could tell, Lucy hadn't regarded Isabel with even mild dislike. To hate her was well outside of her character, almost unthinkable. "She's never hated you, Isabel. Not for one second."

"Why not? Doesn't she feel like I ruined everything?"

"Do you?"

"Sometimes… yes. For us. For the both of you."

He looked down at his plate. "Lucy came to the hospital. The night that you got shot? She was there with me."

"For you?"

"For both of us." He remembered that dark night only too well, recalling how his soulmate's sudden appearance had seemed miraculous in the moment. He had stored in his heart the tender way Lucy's warm hands had eased him back towards the bench, how the long, silky strands of her hair had brushed across his face as she told him to rest. "She came for me. She stayed because I asked, and she watched out for you when I fell asleep."

"I didn't know she did that," Isabel whispered.

"I know you didn't, but that's who Lucy is, Isabel. She's… selfless. Kind." A pause, then he added quietly, "All that to say, she doesn't hate you. I don't think she has a hateful bone in her body, to be honest, and it was never her intention to come between us. That wasn't what she wanted."

"Wow."

Tim looked up. "What?"

"You really care about her, don't you?"

That question, even more than the others, almost left him speechless. He tripped over a reply before managing to answer, "I still barely know her. And anyway, she's my boot."

Isabel smirked. "'Barely know her. 'She's my boot'."

"It's true."

"I'm sure you think it's true," she replied. "I don't buy it for a second."

He didn't respond; couldn't, as it turned out because before Tim replied, his phone began to ring. Isabel released his hands, folding her arms over her chest as he picked up the phone.

"Sarge?" he muttered, reading the name on the screen before answering.

Grey didn't greet him once he picked up, instead saying, "There's been a shooting at a food truck court downtown."

"Who was the target?"

"It was Nolan. He's okay. West called it in."

"And Lucy?" At the mention of his soulmate's name, Isabel straightened in her seat.

"As far as I know she's all right, but I figured you'd want to check," Grey replied. "The captain and I are heading over there shortly. I'll text you the address in case you want to meet us there."

"Yes, sir, I do. Thank you, sir," Tim said, and a moment later, they ended the call.

"What's happening?" Isabel asked as he brought his phone away from his ear just long enough to dial Lucy's number.

"A shooting," he answered tersely as the call connected. Lucy picked up almost immediately, and the relief of hearing her voice was instant and strong.

"Hey. I was just about to call you," she said. Tim took note of every syllable, every sound. Her tone did not sound pained. Her breathing was even and steady, confirming, in his mind, that she was unhurt.

Even so, he asked, "Are you okay? Sergeant Grey said there's been a shooting. Were you with Nolan?"

She tried her best to talk him out of worrying, speaking in a voice that soothed, that calmed. "I'm fine. Jackson and I weren't with him when it happened, but we're here now."

"Is he okay?"

"I mean, he wasn't hit, but he's pretty shaken up." A pause, and then she whispered, "He got really lucky."

"I'm on my way. Stay put." They hung up without another word exchanged, and it was then that he looked at Isabel again. She'd been listening intently to his half of the conversation, and a look he couldn't quite decipher had settled over her face during the phone calls. "Isabel, I-"

She cut him off with a short shake of her head. "Don't. I understand. You want to make sure she's okay."

"She wasn't the target," he mumbled, and after a moment, offered to stay in spite of what he had told Lucy.

Isabel insisted. "Tim, I'll be fine. Go. You and I both know you'll drive yourself crazy with worry if you don't."

He hesitated only a moment more, then nodded. "Okay. I'll go, but can you lock up when you leave? The spare key is in the watering can beside the front door."

"Really?" She chuckled. "I can't believe you still keep it there. I thought for sure you would've moved it after I left."

He'd thought of doing so more than once. "I wanted to make sure you could come home if you needed to."

Tim arrived at the food truck court to find it buzzing with activity. EMTs had arrived and tended to Nolan in the midst of the wreckage. Tim took note of the damage to his truck, because how could he miss it? The panels had been obliterated by gunfire and the shattered glass had scattered across the asphalt. Bits of it crunched beneath his boots with every step as he walked towards the parked ambulance. Nolan sat on the rear fender, drinking slowly from a bottle of water. Jackson was a few feet away wrapping up another phone call, and Lucy had crouched by Nolan's knee. She stood as she noticed Tim approaching.

He checked on Nolan first, confirming the other man was all right before turning to Lucy and asking a second time, "And you're sure you're okay?"

Once again, she promised she was. "What do we do now?"

He scanned the scene quickly. In addition to EMTs, a few police vehicles had joined their ranks, but the newly arrived officers had focused on Nolan's truck and the surrounding cars. "We should canvass the area for witnesses," Tim determined, then told Jackson to accompany him. As they turned to go, Lucy tried to join them. He stopped her. "No, you stay back with Nolan." The order was two-fold; for one thing, Nolan was still in shock, and Tim figured he would benefit from the support of at least one friend. For another, if whoever had done this was still out there, he sure as shit wasn't about to send Lucy off into that danger alone.

"We can cover more ground with the three of us," she countered.

"I said what I said, Chen," he repeated, ignoring how her brow furrowed at his demand. "Stay here."

Canvassing unfortunately uncovered no leads. When Jackson and Tim returned to the scene, they were greeted not just by Nolan and Lucy but Angela and Talia as well. Jackson informed the group that no one they spoke with saw the shooter, which Nolan reacted to with disbelief.

"He fired a couple hundred rounds."

Tim clarified, "No one is admitting they saw him."

"Who did you piss off?" Talia asked, to which Nolan shrugged.

"Someone with automatic weapons," Tim grumbled, and a range of theories were discussed until Captain Andersen and Sergeant Grey joined the group.

"According to intelligence," the captain said, "you've been green lit by Southern Front."

When Nolan indicated his confusion, Grey explained. "They put a hit on you."

"How does a rookie get green lit before I do? I gotta step my game up," Tim grumbled. At his side, Lucy shot him a look of horror.

"You want to be green lit?" she asked.

"I wanna know I'm pissing off bad guys, yeah," he answered a little glibly. She didn't respond to that, but he caught the way she rolled her eyes before returning her focus to Andersen.

The captain relayed the rest of the facts quickly and firmly. Nolan had arrested a woman that day, and apparently, that woman was connected to the acting leader of a gang of white supremacists; some dangerous, trigger-happy dumb fuck named Cole Midas was after Nolan for the perceived disrespect, ordering his cronies to kill him on sight if they crossed his path. Luckily, the hit did not name any other officers, which made it somewhat easier to make protecting Nolan the department's main objective. Captain Andersen announced she would escort him home, and shortly after they departed, Grey left to organize the security detail. Angela and Talia did not stay for long beyond that point, and soon only Jackson, Lucy, and Tim remained at the scene.

"I feel awful," she whispered, which Jackson quickly agreed with.

"Don't. There's nothing you could've done," Tim said, then looked at Lucy. "You should get home. Tomorrow is going to be tough." With Nolan's safety taking priority, anyone who could be spared from their usual beats would be wrangled into various jobs meant to deter the Southern Front from continuing in their threats. It was sure to be a long and stressful shift, and he was anxious to get them all home, knowing they would depend on good rest that night to make it through the next few days.

Of course, Lucy had other plans; turning to Jackson, she asked what he intended to do, and before long, the two had decided to join Nolan at his house. Tim appreciated their reasons, knowing they were motivated out of true concern, but he wished he could get at least Lucy to see things more sensibly. True, Nolan was technically alone, but he was about to be surrounded by a detail of men and women tasked with keeping him safe. There was no reason to risk their own rest-and possibly, their own safety- for his sake when capable hands were already at the helm. When he privately took her aside and tried to get her to reconsider, Lucy remained adamant. Despite his urging, he concluded rightly, "I can't change your mind, can I?"

She shook her head.

"Okay then," Tim said, and his resignation became determination as he turned to go. No, he would not be able to change her mind, but that didn't mean he was now without options, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her go alone. As he walked towards his parked truck, Tim called Captain Andersen and asked to be included in the security detail. The captain insisted Grey had the situation under control.

"I'll need you rested for tomorrow, Officer. We're going to hit Southern Front as hard as we can with asset seizure," she said.

"I can handle both jobs, ma'am."

"I'm sure you can," Captain Andersen replied, then after a moment, offered a solution. "Security is handled, but if you wanted to help monitor the perimeter for your own peace of mind, I wouldn't stop you." She gave him the address then, and after they hung up, he looked up the directions to Nolan's home.

The first thing Tim noticed when he pulled up to the house was not the size of the place (although damn, the main house was fucking huge, and the guest house where Nolan stayed was also pretty impressive). He rolled to a stop parallel to the driveway and from a distance, saw Lucy. She and Jackson stood on the front steps, and both were speaking with Captain Andersen. Neither rookie moved until the captain walked away, and there was a moment where they spoke to one another before splitting in opposite directions. Jackson went into the guest house. Lucy walked back up the driveway, heading towards Tim's truck.

He rolled down the window as she approached. "License and registration?" she asked, smirking.

"Cute."

"Sir, if you won't comply, I'm gonna need you to step out of the vehicle." He did as she ordered, and she waited until he shut the car door behind him before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are," he replied. "Security."

"Really?" There was a laugh on her lips as she revealed, "Because Captain Andersen says she told you they had it covered."

He winced just a little at having been exposed. "Well. Now it's extra covered."

"I see. Is this why you were mad at me?"

"Yeah, because I'm fucking tired… but I wasn't about to let you do this without doing what I can to help. And before you say that I can't protect you from everything, I want you to know it's not about that."

"Really?"

"Really. You wanted to be here for Nolan, and I want to be here for you."

His response mollified her. Lucy gave him a satisfied nod before asking, "So… you're okay with me doing this?"

"… I wouldn't go that far," he replied. Truthfully, he had half a mind to throw her over his shoulder and toss her into his truck, then drive far, far away, but he knew better than to say so. "Come on. I'll walk you up."

When they reached the steps, Lucy turned to him with a smile. "Thanks for walking me home."

"No problem. You know me, I'm a gentleman." Then more earnestly, he reminded her, "I'm out here if you need me, okay?"

The night went slowly. Tim passed the time with anxious, almost constant glances toward the front door. A few officers he recognized patrolled the length of road in front of the property, switching out every few hours. Being that he was not officially a part of the security detail, he remained stationary. Exhaustion caught up with him in the early morning hours, so Tim snuck a quick nap around four; just a few winks while reclined in the driver's seat, probably no more than fifteen minutes total. He awoke feeling somewhat recharged and prayed that little bit of rest would be enough.

The sun had started rising when movement at the front door caught his eye. Lucy stepped out a moment later. She wore the clothes she'd arrived in, but at some point during the night, she'd taken her hair out of the twin braids she'd worn to Nolan's house. The resulting waves were a little messy, but looked nice on her; lovely, in a soft way. A smile was on her lips as she approached Tim's truck, carrying two cups of coffee, one for her and one for him.

"How you feeling?" she asked after handing him his mug.

"Like shit," he replied. His neck ached and his ass hurt from sitting for so long, although he spared Lucy those details. "I'm getting too old for all-nighters. I'm pushing forty here."

"You did not just call yourself old."

"I didn't say I'm old. I said I'm getting old. There's a difference."

"Thirty-eight is not the same as forty," Lucy said, smiling into her mug before saying, "Besides, I'm sure you manage to stay up when it matters." At that, Tim felt his eyes widen. Seeing his expression, she blushed, trying to clarify what he'd obviously interpreted as having a double meaning before muttering, "I'm just going to drink my coffee and pretend neither of us have said anything yet." She took a small sip, followed it with a deep breath that lifted her shoulders slightly, then tried again. "Good morning, Tim."

"Good morning, Lucy."

They enjoyed their coffee side by side, resting their backs against the driver's side door of his truck. Tim was surprised by the easy bliss of it all; the comfortable, almost familiar way Lucy leaned against his arm as she clutched her cup in front of her, how she spoke just above a whisper in the light of the early morning. Her eyes were warm and amber in the sunrise, and although she claimed to have only slept a little, no fatigue showed on her face. It was easy to forget why they were there, easy to forget the danger they were meant to be on guard against. For a handful of stolen moments, Tim could pretend it was just another morning; that the danger was far-off, and the demands of the job were distant. That this was how it was and always would be. Just two people sharing coffee.

No matter what he pretended, the imagined bliss ended too quickly. Reality, cruel and harsh, insisted on having its say.

The green light was lifted. After a day spent in asset seizure, Leonard Midas (the actual leader of the Southern Front) had ordered his son to cancel the hit. It worked, for a minute. Until it didn't.

Captain Andersen had assigned herself to Nolan's side that day. When they were taken hostage together, she fought back. She saved the life of her officer.

Several Mid-Wilshire units, Lucy and Tim among them, had descended on the captain's last known location to find Nolan soaking wet and as still as stone. In his lap, he held Captain Andersen. Her eyes were open and skyward, but empty; her skin had long turned cold to the touch. A hush fell over the officers, broken only when one of them radioed for RA. It was a pointless call, a formality rather than a necessity. The captain was dead.

He wasn't sure why he offered to drive Lucy home that night. Maybe it was because he'd seen how her hands shook as they drove back to the station. Maybe it was because he heard how her breathing had become shallow, interpreting both as the looming signs of a panic attack.

The most likely reason? He didn't want to be alone; given that she'd accepted immediately, he figured neither did she.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"No. You?"

Tim shook his head. "No."

"… The last time we spoke, we talked about curtains." Lucy's laugh was joyless. "Curtains. If I'd known… I guess it doesn't matter now."

"If you'd known, what would you have said?" he asked.

"I don't know. I was thrilled when I got assigned to Mid-Wilshire and found out the captain was a woman. There's so much I wanted to ask her. So much I wanted to learn. I just thought there would always be more time." He heard her inhale a shaky breath, heard the telltale tremble that usually came before crying. "I don't know what happens now."

Neither did he, and already, the thought had made him fearful. Not every captain would possess Andersen's understanding, her compassion. Not every captain would protect them -he and Lucy- the way she had. It was a new worry, one he did not yet have space for with the loss still so new, the grief so raw.

To Lucy, he did not voice his concerns, instead asking, "Did I ever tell you what the captain said to me after your plain clothes day?"

"No."

"She lit me up. No one could put me in my place quite like her. Well," he gave her a sad smile, "with one notable exception."

"What did she say?"

"She said, 'Am I going to be disappointed in you, Officer Bradford?' And I didn't get what she was saying at first. Then she told me that she asked Sarge to assign you to me because she thought you had the potential for greatness. I've trained a lot of rookies, Chen, and she's never said that before."

"I… didn't know that's why," Lucy whispered. "I guess that explains why she wanted to keep us together.

"She thought you could be extraordinary, but didn't want you falling into the trap of trying to impress anyone, including me. She believes in you." He hesitated, then quietly corrected himself. "She believed in you."

They did not speak as he walked Lucy to her door, not so much as a single word passing between them as he followed behind her up the stairwell. When they reached her doorstep, she turned to hold him, pressing her cheek against his chest before winding her arms around his waist. For a moment he froze, but only briefly; he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. One of his hands rose to caress the nape of her neck in an attempt to further comfort her. He felt her tears as they left her eyes, each droplet landing on his shirt and soaking through the fabric. Although he'd managed to hold his own at bay til then, he couldn't help it. He would wrestle with his own grief later; for now, it was Lucy's that moved him, her tears that provoked his own. He did not stop them as they fell, and when the embrace finally broke, he wiped them quickly with his fingertips.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," Lucy mumbled, patting the damp spot her tears had left behind.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded. He walked away, but had only made it a few steps down the staircase when she called his name. He turned to see Lucy had followed him. Now, she stood at the top of the landing, watching him go with her eyes gleaming.

"You didn't mean it, right?" she asked. "When you said you wanted to get green lit?"

Tim sighed. "Lucy, it was a joke. A really dumb joke."

"I know. I figured, but…" her chin quivered as she attempted to hold back new tears. "Please don't, okay? I need… I really need you to be safe."

He closed the space between them, stopping at the stair just below the top. Here, he was on her level, and while he wished that he could take her by the hand, he settled for clutching the railing instead. "I can't make a promise like that, Lucy."

"I know you can't, but can you promise you'll try?"

He knew he shouldn't. Their jobs were inherently risky, with danger all but guaranteed on a day-to-day basis. She'd been on the force long enough to know that as well as he did. Surely, she understood that safety -his, hers, anyone's- could not be promised. Their last shift had been proof of that.

But the tears in her eyes once more affected him. Tim's resolve weakened in the presence of her grief, weakened seeing the heartbreak plain on her face. "I promise," he said, praying he could keep it, and knew without a doubt he would swear much more than that if ever she should ask.

A/N:

Welp. I wondered whether losing Captain Andersen would hurt the second time around, and now I know for sure. :( More fallout from her death will come in the next chapter. I've just started writing about her replacement and he's already pissing me off...

The next update will be out August 24th around 9 am! I'll post previews on my twitter as we get closer to that date, so feel free to come find me there ( meadow_suz) if you haven't already.

Thank you for reading! Please review!