Different did not mean easy. It did not mean simple, and by no means did "different" magically remove the obstacles in their way. In spite of everything that had changed, that remained true; Tim and Lucy still had a long road ahead of them. Coming to an understanding with Nolan did not remedy that in the slightest, but then again, there wasn't much that would. Tim was at least glad to be on better terms with the oldest rookie, more for Lucy's sake than his own, but that didn't fix the Weatherby problem. It was a relief then, when shortly after he made it home that night, Sergeant Grey called him with good news.

"Our dear Captain Weatherby has been promoted to headquarters," Grey said, his amused tone hinting at his own feelings concerning the information. "Thought you'd like to know."

It was a good thing that he had called Tim to tell him instead of waiting to pass it on in person. He pumped a fist in the air once, glad to have Weatherby off of his and Lucy's backs for good. To the sergeant, though, he disguised his enthusiasm, replying flatly, "Well, good for Weatherby, I guess."

Sergeant Grey chuckled. "Yeah, sure. Good for him."

As soon as the sergeant ended the call, Tim dialed Lucy's number. She picked up on the second ring, and he could tell by the hum in the background that she was driving.

"I can call back," he began to say, but she kept him on the line.

"I'm almost home," Lucy replied, then asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Better than fine, actually. "Want some good news?"

"Sure."

"Weatherby's moving up."

Her response was even less measured than Tim's had been. Lucy laughed outright at the news, not even pretending to downplay her glee. "Hurray. Gone, and not a moment too soon. So, I guess you're stuck with me a little longer, huh?"

"Try not to sound so disappointed."

"I'm not. I'm glad."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Quietly, she added, "I wanted to stay with you."

Tim paused, a lump forming in his throat that he had trouble speaking around. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. I mean, I wanted…" he stammered, then said finally. "Me too, Lucy."

There was the sound of her keys jingling as she pulled them out of the ignition. "Well, I made it home." The sentence ended with her yawning.

"Tired?"

"So tired." A few seconds passed where he heard her trudge towards her apartment, her steps echoing as she marched up the concrete staircase. "Weird day."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." More movement could be heard through the phone; the squeal of her apartment door creaking open, and another clanking noise as she dropped her keys on the kitchen counter. He could picture her kicking her shoes off by the door, slinging her bag over the couch, and was all at once hit by the image of her coming home to him; of her shoes in front of the window seat, her keys hanging next to his. The flickered picture faded almost as quickly as it came, still more a wish than a certainty at that point. Nonetheless, it managed to make his heart lurch inside his chest. "Bishop and I were 10-6 when the earthquake happened," Lucy continued. "My mom had called."

Tim, remembering they were estranged, understood what a big deal that was without her needing to say so. "What did she want?"

"Well, she didn't call to catch up." She snickered, but rather than joy it was laced with sarcasm. "She wanted me to check on my dad. He's in the hospital right now."

"What happened?"

A heavy sigh preceded her explanation. "A session with a patient got a little out of hand. He's got a broken shoulder."

"Jesus. What are they doing in therapy? MMA?"

"Funny." The line was silent for a few moments before she pivoted, changing the subject without another thought paid to her family. "Anyways, enough about that." She took on a tone of false brightness before saying, "Tell me about your day with Nolan. How did the mutual aid call go?" A pause, then she teased, "Are you guys besties now?"

"You wish." He took a seat on the couch, settling in against the cushions before speaking again. "It went… okay. A few hiccups, but nothing Nolan and I couldn't handle."

"What do you mean 'hiccups'?" Lucy asked. Just from her voice, he could guess her expression; that particular one that took over her face any time she regarded an incident (or in a lot of cases, Tim himself) with distrust or scrutiny. He could imagine how her eyes would narrow in suspicion, and how her brows would furrow as she demanded, "Define hiccups."

"Lucy, listen-"

"-Define hiccups, Tim."

Grimacing, he explained. "The man we were guarding tried to make a break for it. He had help from one of the cartels." When she gasped his name, he was quick to reassure her. "We had it under control, I promise. It was over fast."

Despite his efforts to downplay the danger, her worry -and her anger- were both palpable over the phone. "You said everything was okay when I texted!"

"It was okay."

She scoffed. "A cartel, Tim."

"Everything was okay by the time I talked to you," he amended.

"That is not the same thing, and you know it."

"So, even if it's handled by the time we speak, you still want to know?"

"Of course, I do. Are you kidding me? It's you."

Weatherby's replacement was significantly more capable. Captain LePage was smarter than his predecessor by miles. He was also almost coolly distant in how he handled the department. In some ways, that worked in their favor. He didn't appear all that bothered by soulmates working together, not even sparing Lucy and Tim a second glance after learning about their connection to one another. He immediately did away with most of the last leader's more asinine demands, and Sergeant Grey was happy to pick up any slack left over by the new captain's more hands-off mode of operating. A better leader, absolutely, but his lack of daily involvement meant the department as a whole was left somewhat more vulnerable.

That first became clear on a day that began not with the roll call, but with commotion in the bullpen. A few officers had gathered at the bottom of the staircase, and more joined their numbers until a cluster had formed. Lucy stood at Tim's side and asked what was happening. Given that he was speechless with disbelief, Talia answered on his behalf, and they watched as Detective Jenkins was led down the steps in handcuffs. On either side of him were two officers in uniform. A few paces behind walked the head of Internal Affairs, Commander West. The group marched silently towards the captain's office, and only when the office door shut behind them did the crowd disperse, with patrolling officers heading to the roll call. Any questions they had (and there were many) were answered when Sergeant Grey and Commander West arrived a few minutes later, opening the morning with a somber greeting, then wasting no time in revealing the details of Jenkins' arrest.

"Ten years ago, Detective Jenkins lied on the witness stand," Commander West began stoically. "Not only have we uncovered proof of perjury, it also became clear that an innocent woman was convicted of murder, and has been unjustly imprisoned this entire time." There were murmurs of disbelief among the officers at this, but all fell silent again as the commander continued. "Samantha Bennet was released two days ago. Jenkins will be charged with perjury and he has been placed on the Brady list."

Lucy raised her hand. "Sir, what is the Brady list?"

"A list of dirty cops," Talia replied from their row.

"Yes," Commander West confirmed with a nod. "The Brady list is a record of law enforcement officers who've withheld exculpatory evidence." He looked around the room, and Tim noticed his eyes lingered on Jackson, his son, for just a moment longer than he had the other officers. "IA has reviewed all of Jenkins' past convictions. Three others were deemed suspect enough to overturn their convictions."

Next to Tim, Angela grumbled. "When this gets out, every lawyer in town is going to try their luck on a Jenkins' conviction."

Brady list additions were rare, but he knew Angela was right. Consequently, Tim was anxious to get on the road before that particular chaos descended on the station. For the learning experience, the TO units were assigned to make contact with the people whose convictions had been overturned. He was of the mind that the task should have fallen to a higher rank, but LePage -true to form- had delegated the job out. Tim and Lucy were instructed to check on a man named Max Kegel. Kegel had been serving a life sentence for drug trafficking and had been released to his family's care the night before. A glance at his rap sheet didn't tell them much else, but it was suspicious to go to the address provided only for a neighbor to inform them that Kegel had been taken to the hospital shortly after coming home. The neighbor couldn't tell them much else, just that he'd been taken to Shaw Memorial, so it was there that they headed next.

As they walked through the halls of the hospital, Lucy asked Tim, "So. How is studying going?" When he didn't answer, she clarified, "You know? For the sergeant's exam?"

Tim hesitated, uncertain of how to reply. Studying was not going so well, if he was being frank. Some nights he could keep his focus just fine, but retaining the information had been difficult. On other nights, he couldn't keep his attention on the page, leaving him to re-read the same section again and again. Most of the time he got frustrated and gave up, but he knew he was running out of time to procrastinate. He'd never been a very successful student, studying being hard for him even in middle and high school. Sometimes the content overwhelmed him; most of the time, he didn't know where to start… but to her question, he replied enigmatically, "It's going… what about yours?"

Lucy crossed her arms, her wrists coming to rest on her belt before she replied, equally vague, "It's going."

Tim glanced at her, seeing how she resisted meeting his eyes. "Boot. Tell me you're studying."

"… It's been really busy lately," she mumbled.

"Too busy to study for your job?"

"I'm not the only one with an exam coming up. I don't think I've seen you pick up a book, ever."

Harsh, but not totally untrue; however, he defended weakly, "That's different," just as they reached Max Kegel's room.

Tim knew better than to profile people, but as far as drug traffickers went, Max Kegel really didn't seem the type. He'd entered the room expecting to encounter a hardened criminal, only to be greeted by a chipper man who was better suited for accounting than crime. Despite his sudden illness, Max was cheerful and positive, and only too happy to introduce the newly arrived officers to the woman at his side: his wife, Alicia.

Tim and Lucy had not been with the Kegels for long when the doctor returned and asked to speak with the officers privately. Max had been subjected to a series of tests after taking ill, and what was assumed to be food poisoning had turned out to be actual poisoning. More specifically, Max had ingested a near-fatal amount of pesticide. Given that the man had just been released from a long stay in prison, Tim could surmise that he'd not tried to dose himself, and so, he called out towards the room.

"Mrs. Kegel," he said, "would you come out here, please?"

After a moment, Alicia replied, "No, thank you!"

They got the truth out of her soon enough. As suspected, Alicia had poisoned her husband, and the entire marriage was revealed as a sham. Lucy fitted cuffs around her wrists, and before they led her away, she looked back towards Max.

"Sorry," she said, and to Tim's ears, she did not sound the least bit remorseful.

As he feared, the Mid-Wilshire station was significantly more chaotic than it had been before they left. Angela's muttered prediction had come true, with word of Jenkins' arrest making its way into public knowledge in record time. It seemed like every defense attorney in a fifty-mile radius showed up to their station, all foaming at the mouth to get convictions overturned. Tim turned to Lucy, muttering, "Let's get this done fast," before rushing her and Mrs. Kegel to processing. He was happy as hell to get back on their beat, and dispatch almost immediately sent them out to attend to an assault at someplace called The Rustic Ranch Paintball Park.

"Assault, huh?" Lucy said to him as they climbed up the hill. "At a paintball park? What do you think that could be?"

"Don't know," he replied, although he had a few guesses. A competition with facsimile weapons? It wasn't all that surprising that tempers sometimes ran hot. Hot enough to stab a man with a tree branch, though? Tim hadn't expected that, but that was the scene that greeted them. The victim was upright and in a great deal of pain when they arrived, and although his friends tried to comfort him, there wasn't much they could do to help. Lucy provided some light first aid, but even her skills were no match for the injury. He'd need help only EMTs could provide, and the ambulance was still on its way. As Lucy continued to examine the injury, Tim asked where the attacker had gone.

"His name is Jimmy," one of the men replied, then gestured up the mountain towards the greater part o the park. "Out there somewhere. Camo jacket, skeleton face guard."

He nudged Lucy, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Chen, let's go."

"Right." She looked to the person closest to the victim. "Keep pressure on it. Whatever you do, don't pull it out." To the injured man, she said, "Ambulance will be here soon. You just hang tight, okay?"

They ascended the mountain at a deliberate pace. With a better scope of the park, Tim was able to deduce where a practiced player like Jimmy might hide. They walked toward a lookout built on top of the peak. Lucy entered first, and a barrage of pellets just barely missed her with brightly colored paint exploding on impact just inches away from the door.

Tim's hand flew to his taser as he barked, "LAPD. The next person who fires goes to jail." At his warning, hands went up. "Where's the guy in the skeleton mask?"

"Behind you," answered a man, and Tim turned to see their suspect running towards an exit. He grabbed a rifle belonging to one of the players, dispensing three shots in rapid succession. Jimmy's camo turned pink where the pellets hit, and he dropped his gun, surrendering immediately.

It was hard not to feel a little smug about his shooting skills. He'd mentioned to Lucy that he would've been good at the game if ever he cared to try his hand at it; his actual words may have insinuated he'd "smoke" the competition. Even so, Tim did not expect Lucy to show up on their next day off, arriving without warning. She announced herself through a phone call before honking her horn twice, informing him she was waiting in his driveway.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at her from out of the front window.

"I have a surprise for you, and you just told me you're not busy, so…"

Well, she had a point there. He asked her for a minute, then met her outside after putting on shoes. She motioned for him to follow her, leading him around to the back of her car. "I need to study. So do you, for that matter. Anyway, I figured that we," she opened the Datsun's trunk with a flourish, revealing it was stuffed to the brim with paintball supplies, "should have one last hurrah before we both buckle down."

He was glad he had no plans for the day because it was clear she'd gone through a lot of effort and expense to make their paintball game happen. He agreed on the condition that he got to drive, and they moved the gear into his truck before departing. She chose the music as they returned to the paintball park, and he sang along with her as she put on a playlist containing a few rock classics he knew by heart. He couldn't sing half as well as she could, but she never made fun of him for it. At least, she never made fun of him out loud. He caught the way her nose wrinkled at the sound of his off-pitch caterwauling when he flubbed the climactic key change of "Livin' On A Prayer", and she did her best to hide her laughter behind her hands.

They made the most of their time at the park. The game proved a little more challenging than Tim thought it would be, although he'd never admit that to Lucy after the stink he'd raised about crushing any amateur that crossed his path. They worked as a duo and did a pretty good job of holding off their imaginary enemies, dodging purple pellets as they made their way to the high ground.

"God, it's hot out there!" Lucy exclaimed as they regrouped in the lookout about an hour into the game. They'd found an out-of-sight corner in one of the rooms towards the back, and she removed her helmet and gloves for a second in order to wipe the back of her palm across her brow. "Ugh," she panted, "Give me a minute."

Tim removed his helmet, too. "Don't tell me you're quitting on me," he teased.

"No," she retorted, still huffing. "I just need a breather."

"Are you sure? Because if you're running out of steam, we should-"

The rest of his sentence was lost as she clapped her palm over his lips and pushed him deeper into the corner. "Hush," she whispered. A second later came the sound of booted footsteps just outside the room. Thanks to Lucy's quick thinking, they were tucked just out of sight, and with any luck, no one would spot them. Her posture was rigid as she remained alert, and she kept herself flush against him; her hand stayed over his mouth. She was close enough that he could count every single one of her eyelashes; close enough for him to see her tongue dart out to wet her lips, leaving them pink and shiny before she shushed him a second time. She was close enough that his vision zeroed in with ease on the exposed pulse point of her neck. Although he could not know for certain, he knew in all likeliness her heartbeat was racing with excitement, thrumming from the thrill of the game. He wondered what it would be like to touch her there, or to slowly trace his forefinger over the winding black lines of the tattoo beneath her ear.

Then, he imagined much more than that. Much, much more, and all without meaning to. In Tim's mind, his fingertips became his lips and tongue, and so vivid was the mental picture he swore he could hear her contented sighs reverberating in her chest as he kissed a trail towards her collarbone, her skin sweet and fragrant underneath his mouth As the image in his mind played out, his hands remained frozen at his sides. If he'd moved… well, he just wouldn't. He would stay as still as possible, and silently thank God or heaven or fuck for the layers of paintball gear in between them. His want would otherwise be impossible to conceal.

Luckily, the moment passed soon enough. "Sorry," Lucy said sheepishly as she released him, seemingly ignorant to the fire a single touch of her hand had ignited.

They played until the park closed down. As Lucy removed her helmet at the end of the competition, he noticed the tired but happy smile on her face, the blush that bloomed in her cheeks from exertion. She shook hands with a few of the other players, congratulating them on a good game before jerking her head in the direction of the parking lot.

"If I'd known the gear would be this damn hot…" she let the remainder of her complaint hang unfinished, chuckling as she climbed into the passenger seat. She made quick work of the braid in her hair and had just begun to comb through it with her fingers when she pulled the visor mirror down. A piece of paper fluttered into her lap.

"What's that?" Tim asked, and a moment later she showed him. It was the picture from New Year's Eve; the one of Lucy in that truly incredible white dress, all curves and tan skin, her perfect lips painted a sultry red. How the hell had it gotten there? The only person that had that photo was… he groaned. "Angela."

"I take it you didn't know this was here?"

"Lopez and I went for drinks the other night. I drove. It's probably her idea of a prank." He smirked a little thinking about his friend and how clever she must have felt sneaking the picture into his car without him noticing. When had she slipped it into the visor? He couldn't be sure. Even if it was a little annoying, it was pretty funny.

"Do you want to keep it?" Lucy asked, holding the picture out to him. She didn't need to offer twice. Tim took the picture, and without another word tucked it into the driver's side mirror.

It was kind of nice to think that the next time he brought the visor down, he wouldn't see his own reflection. He'd see Lucy.

A/N: So I haven't referenced it before, but I'm sure by now everyone has noticed that Tim's story is a little out of synch with Lucy's. That wasn't my plan initially, but the pacing is different this time for whatever reason and rather than fight it like I did at first, I'm going with it. I don't anticipate needing to add more chapters to tell the whole story, but we'll see!

OH! Before I forget: what did you think of the trailers we've gotten for season five?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! Tell me your theories!

Thank you for reading!