Lucy blinks her eyes open, the exhaustion still present this morning despite a good night's sleep. She had knocked out immediately when her head finally hit the pillow last night. She'd found the combination of all her requests – her favorite Thai food for dinner, a warm bath, and quality sexy time with Tim that had her feeling so loved and adored – had left her content and sleepy. She notices she didn't wake once during the night, and she's still in the exact same position she was when she nodded off. She grumbles and looks to the clock to see it's just after nine, the sun is out, and it looks like it's a beautiful spring day in Los Angeles.
She slowly remembers the past week and she suddenly feels even more tired.
Part of her is disappointed in the op, because she really thought she could bring Frank down. She gets a big thrill out of working these things from the inside, and most of her operations have been successful. But it hadn't gone that way this time and she'd pulled the plug when it seemed there was nothing more to do. She'd expected a more successful conclusion and feels a little bit of a disappointment hangover.
Another part of her is still processing everything that happened last week, now that she's Lucy again and able to think clearly. How she so easily could have died in that restaurant, Tim watching the whole thing. How he so easily could have gotten himself killed that very same night if the criminal in the alley had been just a little sharper. How she wonders if, after seeing her get shot at, he was a little off kilter and not on top of his game when the gun was pulled on him.
She's trying to come to terms with how much she missed him all week, even though she was able to be in contact with him the entire time.
(It has to be because their relationship is still so new, right?)
Her first instinct is to go back to sleep, sleep the morning and the thoughts away, maybe a bit of the afternoon, too. Then Tim's words play in her mind. Isabel used to take months to come back to life.
She knows it's not uncommon for officers who do undercover work to have a bit of a transition back to reality. The longer the cases, the more intense they are, the harder it is. Frank's words about prison applied to this, too. No one stays still while you're in an undercover op. Life moves on without you. She can only imagine being away for six months, a year, and coming back to see what's become of the life you left behind to solve a crime.
She loves undercover. She does. But for some reason, after missing Tim so much last week, the idea of six months or more makes her feel a swell of dread and anxiety deep in her chest.
(Most officers who go undercover must feel the same thing, right? That's normal.)
She blinks her eyes open and turns to face Tim who, she's not surprised to find, is already awake. He's an early riser normally and the only reason he's still in bed, she's sure, is to be there when she wakes up.
He's likely been watching her sleep, something she's caught him doing several times though he will deny it to the death.
She's tired, yes. But she's gotten up and gotten going many, many mornings when she'd rather sleep in.
He'd asked her to take it seriously when he sounds the alarm about something in her undercover work, and she respects that. She's not sure what sounding the alarm will look like, what might cause it to go off, but she heard him last night. She heard him when he noted how hard it was to have Isabel come back, but be so far away. How he lost Isabel to this.
She meant it when she said she'll walk away before anything like that happens to them. That is absolutely an easy choice to make and she already knows she would make that sacrifice in a heartbeat.
"Hey," she whispers, her voice still heavy with sleep. But she can't help the smile that escapes, because in the past week she'd missed this so, so much. "Hi."
"Good morning," he greets her with a smile, a finger tracing over her shoulder as if he's checking to see that she's really back here, with him.
"I was thinking," she muses as she begins to feel more human and plays with the hem of his t-shirt. "It's a nice morning. We could go to the Farmer's Market? Or take Kojo on a long walk. Then maybe catch up on Top Chef."
He narrows his eyes at her and she holds in the laugh that threatens to spill from her lips. "I thought you watched it without me."
"Well, I did," she admits and laughs and contorts as he gives her side a playful poke. "But I'll watch it again with you. It's only fair. Plus, it's not as fun without you there to make fun of the contestants."
"And you said my commentary is annoying."
She can't hold back the laugh. "You should know by now, I just say those things to get you all riled up."
He grins and kisses her cheek. "What happened to sleeping for twenty-four hours?"
She shakes her head. "No."
"Lucy," he says because, as always, he can see right through her. "You don't have to do all this because you think that I-"
"I'm not," she insists, eyes wide and steady on his. Though his words are still in her mind, and truth be told they are a bit of a motivating force, all they're doing is making her think clearly. "I'm still a little tired, sure. We can take a nice little nap later. Let's enjoy the day together." She leans in to kiss him, a soft peck, before she adds, "Please? I missed you."
She knows that will work, without a doubt, so she waits for his inevitable response.
"Let's sleep another hour first," he mumbles into her hair and she nods her agreement, though she knows he's not likely to sleep another hour himself and is only saying that for her sake.
"Okay," she agrees anyway, because she'll take his compromise.
As she closes her eyes, she imagines just asking the question that's on her lips. Do you want me to give it up?
She already knows his answer will come fast, without wavering, no matter how hard this is on him. No.
She wonders why there's a small part of her that wants him to say yes.
She's never loved someone before. Not at all and definitely not like this. It never occurred to her that her desire to do undercover work could ever be eclipsed by a desire to be fully present in a relationship, by thoughts of wanting to get married and have a family. She knows what Nyla would probably tell her, she knows what Noah thinks about UC and relationships. She couldn't help but prod at Isabel a bit for her take on it, because she does question it sometimes.
Is it worth it?
Words uttered in a parking garage years ago come floating back to her. You don't ever let anyone tell you you can't do something. Not even me.
He will never ask her not to. If she wants to continue, or give it up – it's on her.
One day at a time. One op at a time.
She'll start with a little more sleep.
