1.
Lucy wakes up, exhausted and sore.
She fumbles around for a t-shirt (Tim's) and puts it on as she heads to the bathroom.
When he'd told her she'd need the fuel for later… he hadn't been kidding.
For a moment, she'd thought their first Valentine's Day was going to go up in flames, their argument ruining it all. But then it had been salvaged with a non-apology, a beautiful gift, a nice dinner, and many, many orgasms.
She smiles as she admires the necklace in the mirror, still sitting upon her chest since the moment he'd clasped it around her neck in his office the night before.
Getting into this relationship with Tim, she often didn't know what to expect. She knows there's another side to him than the side he shows everyone else. She's always known that, even early on when he was her supposed asshole training officer. It was only her second shift when she'd seen that he was somebody's husband, that he was broken and distraught with love for his wife, that under there somewhere he must be the kind of man someone would marry.
Through their years as rookie and training officer, sergeant and aide, friends… she'd managed to see little glimpses of the man others would never expect. But even now, he was continuing to surprise her, depths of him she's only now beginning to unlock.
Like going out on his own and picking out a necklace she loved (gold is her preferred jewelry color, it's so classy and simple that she can wear it with anything) and surprised her with it. They'd talked about their plans for the night – dinner, at a restaurant they had chosen together. So she'd been more than a little caught off guard when she realized he'd gone out and done this romantic gesture all on his own and hit the nail on the head.
She's so in love with him.
She's not sure she's ever been in love with anyone before, and if she has, not like this.
She feels like a giddy school girl, because of her boyfriend giving her a necklace, and she never wants to take it off. She looks at it in the mirror, still clasped around her neck despite the fact all other articles of clothing had long since been removed from her body.
It's the first tangible thing she has that shows he's hers, and she's his. The first symbol that she can wear in public to declare their relationship with one another to the world, a symbol that says I'm taken and I'm loved and committed to each other.
It feels like forever.
She's startled when she sees Tim in the doorway, blinking at her sleepily, only in his boxer shorts.
"What are you doing?" he asks, voice rough with sleep.
"Nothing," she says with a little blush, wondering if he caught her admiring her new necklace in the mirror.
He grins, looking her up and down and suddenly looking much more awake as his eyes land on her bare thighs that his t-shirt doesn't quite cover. "You took my shirt."
She quirks an eyebrow. "It's a win for both of us," she says, looking him up and down and appreciating his shirtless torso.
He pushes off the doorway and comes near her and she grins, backing away only to make it more fun. "I want it back," he growls, reaching for her and grabbing her, tossing her over his shoulder.
She squeals as he carries her back to bed.
2.
She's not even sure how she gets home that night, after Tim walked away from her in the Mid-Wilshire parking lot. It had to have been on autopilot, because she doesn't remember any of it.
It's one of those things, she knows, that she feels numb about in the moment – shock, maybe – but later is going to hit her full force. While she thinks right now, you'll be okay, you won't let this destroy you, she knows anytime now it's going to hit her, and she's not going to feel okay, at all, and it will destroy her.
She puts down her keys, takes off her jacket – glances toward Tamara's room to see it dark and assumes she's not home yet. She frowns when she sees the stupid KIA radio on the counter and isn't really sure what to do with it. It's still hard to believe – she can't just leave it there because eventually it will all work out (like she had the past several days). He broke up with her. It all feels so unreal – this couldn't have happened, could it? Just days ago they were getting ready for a date night, he'd brought her this radio, - giftwrapped - and they'd kissed for what she had no idea would be the last time (except for the damn kiss he'd placed on her forehead, she thinks). Just like that, everything changed.
She racks her brain, trying to figure out if she did something wrong. Should she have not sent him away the other day, when he came back to her apartment? Should she have forced him to talk, then, instead of telling him to leave? Should she have not pushed so hard for him to let her in? She'd been pissed when Ray came to her apartment – rightfully so, she reasons – and that had been the final straw before she demanded he tell her what was going on. Was that what did it? Maybe he would've taken the fall if it was just him, and if the reason he lied to IA was to protect her and her job after she'd made him let her in, and the guilt of lying was eating at him…
Rationally, she knows his words in the parking lot don't lend themselves to that. Instead, it was the worst, truest version of "it's not you, it's me." She just doesn't get it.
She kicks off her shoes, leaving them wherever they fall, then goes straight to her bedroom, closing the door behind her so that Tamara won't bother her when she gets home. She'll tell Tamara about it later, when she's processed and has the words.
She's exhausted after the past few days and the many sleepless nights worrying about Tim, and now she's ending that string of days like this.
She moves around her room to start getting ready for bed – not that she's sure she'll sleep, but she has no idea what else to do – when she sees it in the reflection of her mirror, mocking her.
The necklace.
The stupid, stupid necklace.
The first gift he had given her, for their first (and, apparently, only) holiday together. She'd asked him if he picked it out himself, somewhat surprised by the thought, then. She'd given him a hard time the other day about gift giving not being his love language, but he's good at it. Better than she could have imagined, after how he'd struggled so hard to give Rachel a birthday gift.
(She doesn't think about the fact that her birthday is almost here and he won't be giving her a birthday gift anymore.)
She'd worn it, like a fool, over and over and over, nearly every single day.
She'd worn it as a symbol of how committed they were, how solid they were, how in love they were.
She can't remember the last time she wore any other necklace – except for when she was undercover, it was probably only for Nolan and Bailey's wedding when she chose something to match with her dress, instead.
As if this, them, was it.
You didn't mean the same to him, the necklace laughs at her. He probably gives jewelry to every girlfriend, it was meaningless, it mocks. You thought it was forever? He walked away from you like nothing!
She was even wearing it tonight in the stupid parking lot when he broke up with her, naive and foolish she is. Despite everything the past few days – the lying, the disappearing, the secrets – she was still committed to him, still wore his damn necklace like an oath that he came in and smashed in seconds.
The feelings come quickly and freely, now, the simple piece of jewelry being all too tangible a reminder of their relationship and what she'd thought they had, and what she just lost with no say in the matter. She feels the tears burn at her eyes, the nausea churn in her stomach as she lets out a sob.
She wants to yank it off, but she knows it will only hurt her to break the chain against her neck, so she unclasps it quickly with shaking hands and throws it towards her dresser in anger. She hears it clink and fall, uncaring where it went, because she never wants to see it again anyway.
She goes to her jewelry box and opens it up, looking at all the other necklaces that she's neglected the past few months in favor of Tim's. Even though it's late and she's about to go to bed and, she hopes, stay a while to not have to face the world, she picks out Jackson's necklace and puts it on, just to cleanse herself of Tim and find some comfort.
How in the world did they get here?
(It's weeks later before she pulls her dresser away from the wall to retrieve the set of bobby pins that fell behind it when she sees it, sunlight catching the gold, before picking it up and looking at it with a feeling of sentimentality. She's not as mad anymore. She's still sad, and hurt, but she realizes, now, that Tim is going through something.
She's only now just getting used to not wearing it, beginning to not reach for it only to find nothing or some other foreign necklace in its place that doesn't sit in the same spot on her neck or feel the same way on her body.
She picks it up and runs her thumb over the small circle softly and lets out a heavy sigh, then nestles it carefully in the bottom of her top drawer, under her t-shirts, not wanting to have to face it in her jewelry box every single day but not wanting to get rid of it all together.
If nothing else, it was a sign of their time together – a time cut short by circumstance and not because of a lack of love, and for that it deserves a little respect.)
3.
Lucy's getting ready for work one Tuesday morning, peering at her jewelry trying to decide what to wear, when she thinks back to a time the choice was so easy.
Some days, she didn't even have to put it on, because she'd never taken it off the night before after she'd put it on in the locker room after work.
She hears Celina rummaging around in the kitchen for her travel mug and she knows that's the last part of her morning routine before heading out the door. She knows that's her cue to go, too, because they're both on the same shift today and have the same timeline.
Things with Tim have gotten a lot better, but she's still not sure what it all means, really.
She knows he's in therapy – even after his disastrous attempt with Dr. London, he'd gone to find a new therapist – and it seems to be helping him. He seems to have needed the support more than she'd realized, and definitely more than he ever had.
Ever since the breakup, she'd been baffled by his want to be around her – as if he hadn't been the one who broke up with her. He'd seemed truly befuddled the first time he tried to talk to her and she blew him off, as if he couldn't imagine why. He'd brought Kojo to her for her birthday. He'd melted into her hug in the elevator, confessing her hug made him feel okay. It's like he'd let go of her, but he desperately wanted to see her, be near her, to have things feel right between them even though they weren't. She was beginning to understand now how he'd broken up with her, but he hadn't wanted to. It had come from a place of pain and desperation – probably with many layers to it, that she's not even privy to.
It's the most complicated breakup she's ever been through – so sudden and they had been so happy that she didn't see it coming, both of them still in love when it ended, no one having horribly wronged the other, no solid reason why, neither one really wanting it to happen, having to see each other every single day after the fact.
Then he'd promised to spend the rest of his life paying back her kindness. And he'd been true to his word – keeping his space but testing the waters by doing nice things for her and seeing if she would accept or rebuff the action.
Sometimes, she accepted. Sometimes she pushed him away. It honestly all depended on her headspace and her mood about him at the moment.
And when she pushed him away, he accepted it with grace, backing away and coming back later with something smaller or different, trying again.
What left her confused, though, was what his intent was. Was he just trying to thank her for saving his life even though he'd broken up with her? Was he trying to make up for his rash decision of breaking up with her unexpectedly, and how he'd hurt her? Was he trying to earn her trust back so they could work their way back to each other? Or was he just trying to get them back to a place of being friends?
Despite the hurt and anger and sadness she'd felt - still feels,- despite the original doubt she could ever trust him enough to be with him romantically again, she's realized she open to try, if he is. Maybe not yet, but eventually. She's always been a believer in mental health and psychology and therapy, and she understands now he was truly at rock bottom when he walked away from her.
In the last few weeks, she's begun to realize she hopes his actions are him saying wants to make it up to her so they can try again.
They'd both done things without telling the other – starting from taking a desk job and orchestrating a five-player trade that she refused to apologize for down to forgetting to mention detective's exams and ex-wives visiting and Make a Dream kids and maybe they had been going on blissfully unaware that their communication struggles were building, because it had all been done innocently enough.
Maybe they could try again, with their eyes open as to how to do better.
After all, she'd known after they got together that she was seeing new depths to Tim. She hadn't expected one that cut this deep, to be this much of a setback but – it was something that was a part of him, the pain and trauma he'd repressed. If he's decided he's willing to try again, let her in, work through this with her – she's always wanted to know all of him, after all. She couldn't expect to only uncover the soft, romantic side of him. It had stung, and she'd been confused, but she's realizing she can forgive and rebuild that trust.
"Lucy, you're gonna be late!" Celina yells, disrupting her from her thoughts.
"One sec!" Lucy calls back. She makes a quick, momentary decision and goes to her t-shirt drawer and rummages around until she finds the necklace. She puts it on quickly, testing the clasp to make sure it's secure, and hurries out the door.
If he feels like he's healing enough to try and prove himself to her, she can try and heal enough to forgive him.
She feels complete, the necklace around her neck again, and she feels a sense of optimism and hope she hasn't felt in a long time.
(She wonders if he'll notice and, as soon as they get into the same elevator together after shift, he spots it right away.)
4.
"Leave it on," Tim says softly as Lucy's removing her jewelry as she begins her nighttime routine.
"What?" Lucy asks as Tim walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her neck to stop her from unclasping her necklace.
"The necklace. Leave it on."
She turns in his arms so she's facing him, but she's still confused. "Why?"
"Lucy," he huffs a laugh into her shoulder.
She feels like she's missing out on something, but it's been a crazy day – a crazy week. "I don't-"
"Okay," Tim whispers into her ear, giving it a gentle bite causing her to shiver. "I'm failing here. I clearly need to do some work on my seduction skills-"
"What?" she laughs, suddenly realizing where this is going.
"But I want you to take everything else off, and leave the necklace on."
"Oh," she realizes breathlessly, then bursts out laughing. "I'm sorry, baby, it's been a crazy week, I just… my brain's not functioning."
"Mmhmm," he agrees, letting his hands fall to the hem of her shirt as he continues to kiss her neck. "That's why you need a little stress relief. Come on. Off," he says, pulling at her shirt. "That's an order, Officer Chen. I need to conduct a full body search."
She laughs, holding her arms up and letting him pull her shirt over her head, allowing him his wish. She hates to admit how quickly him saying things like that get her turned on, but she can feel a rush of wetness between her legs.
He takes her in before him, standing in front of him in her lacy black bra, her necklace settled on her chest just above her breasts, and she feels the heat in his eyes as he takes her in.
"God, you're gorgeous," he says, peppering kisses over her chest down to the cups of her bra. He kisses his way back up her chest towards her neck where he takes a moment to bite and nibble as he maneuvers her towards the bed, hands already fumbling with the button on her jeans, pushing them down and out of the way quickly.
She gives a sound of disapproval because he now has on way more clothes than she does at this point and it seems entirely unfair, so she reaches to pull his shirt over his head as well before unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his hips, allowing him to take the hint and kick them off before they get to the bed and the process becomes entirely more difficult.
She'd been so sure they had lost this, that the dreams of their future were over, that she'd never get a chance to touch him again, never get to feel him worship her body again, never get to feel the pleasure and contentment of being loved by him again, never get feel that connection with him again. She finds she appreciates it so much more now, every single time.
For all she went through – being broken up with out of the blue without a choice in the matter for what she thought was some bullshit martyr reason like you deserve so much better as opposed to having done something, anything, to him to have deserved it – she's come to understand how bad he had it too. It's clear he was missing her deeply, knowing he had only himself to blame for a choice he came to regret that he made while he felt like he was drowning and lost.
He backs her up until her knees hit the edge of her bed and she goes down easily, but she refuses to go alone and pulls him with her with a laugh. He falls down with her, careful not to hurt her, crawling up after her as she scoots up the bed before hovering over her and caging her in with his forearms. She uses his position to slide her feet onto his hips, pushing down his boxers with her feet, triumphant that she's gotten him free of clothing first and lets out a little hum of gratification.
He knows her. "Don't gloat. It's not fair. You have more clothing to get off than I do."
"Hmm," she hums, as if she doesn't accept the rationale.
"God you're so competitive," he mumbles as he captures her lips again. She laughs in pure joy as she realizes how well he can read her mind. Her laughter is short lived, though, when she feels his fingertips at the edge of her panties. "Can I rip them?" he asks.
"Do you really have to?"
He smirks, knowingly. "That's not a no." He reaches for the sides and twists before he pulls and she lets out a little gasp, even though she knew it was coming. "I know you like it when I do that," he breathes into her ear. "Don't you? It gets you hot when you know I can't even wait to take them off properly."
She whimpers. "Tim."
He throws the ruined garment somewhere behind them, uncaring where it lands. He lets his hands caress her thighs, pushing at her legs and teasing her with a finger, grunting when he realizes how wet she is.
"Maybe you're right," she smirks and he lets out a deep laugh.
His heated gaze and words suddenly turn softer as he looks down at her. "I just like to see it on you again," he says lovingly, letting his fingertips reach down and lightly touch the necklace.
"You break up with me again and it's going in the garbage disposal," she informs him with a hum.
"Lucy," he laughs, but his expression turns serious, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll never do that again."
"I know," she says softly, voice laced with sincerity, as she lets the jokes fall away.
He leans down to kiss her again but she takes advantage of his momentary distraction and flips them over so she's on top, grinning. She knows that he's not surprised – it's a move she pulls often and he knows just how well she's able to take control, gaining the upper hand on him the same way she does on a suspect.
It's his own fault; he trained her, after all.
"I think this is a better view, for you," she tells him with a smug smirk. She throws her hair over her shoulder so that he has a clear view of her necklace – and her breasts.
"I don't think there's any view I'd complain about right now." He runs his hands up her thighs so they land on her hips, gazing at her on display for him.
"And you thought you were the one in control, hmm Sergeant Bradford?"
He rolls his eyes. "I learned a long time ago that's not usually the case." She laughs, delighted, as he slides his hands up to her back, releasing the clasp on her bra and grinning when it falls off her shoulders and she shrugs it away. "The view just got even better," he murmurs as he lets his hands instantly find a home on her breasts.
She loses focus for a moment, relishing the feeling of his hands on her as he squeezes and pinches.
"Maybe it's time to stop looking and start feeling?" she teases before reaching down to take him into her hand, stroking him carefully, causing him to hiss and close his eyes tightly. She strokes him slowly, deliberately, running her thumb over the tip teasingly, before stroking him again.
"Lucy," he half-mutters, half warns, as she's writhing around on him intentionally to maximize her efforts in torturing him.
"Hmm?" she feigns innocence.
"This is going to be over real quick if you do that."
"Do what?"
"Try and tease me."
"Y'know, it also makes me hot how quickly I can make you lose control."
"Lucy."
"You ripped my underwear, that's what you get."
She reaches down to guide him into her entrance, already more than ready for him. He groans at the briefest bit of contact as she lets the tip slip between her folds before she reaches down to place her hands on his chest to give herself leverage as she sinks down on him completely, his hands on her hips, steadying her.
They're both silent for a moment as they adjust, Tim closing his eyes as he tries to regain control of his body to make it last.
"You feel so good," he informs her with a hoarse whisper, reaching up to push a stray piece of hair behind her ear, letting his hand drift over her necklace as he does so. She keens at his touch, faltering momentarily in her focus before beginning to move above him in a steady pattern.
Even in this position, with her in driving their pleasure, he knows how to play her. He lets one hand land on her breast, thumb gently tracing soft patterns over her nipple, pinching, tugging. His other hand finds its way between her legs, seeking out her clit and mimicking the patterns of his hand on her breast.
"Fuck," she hisses, eyes closing in pleasure, her rhythm faltering due to Tim's hands distracting her in the most delicious way.
"Mmhmm," he agrees and then while she's trying her best to regain control over her movements and find her rhythm again Tim, ever the man that he is, flips them suddenly and she gasps in surprise. The sudden new angle causes him to hit a new place deep inside of her unexpectedly.
"Oh, god. Shit," she mutters. He grins down at her smugly and she hits him playfully, even as she laughs. "I was going to be in control," she pouts and he chuckles, kissing her frown away and sucking on her lip until she can't be so sad anymore.
"You had your turn," he snarks into her ear, reaching for her thigh and adjusting her leg higher on his hip, bending it further back towards her body so that he can slide in deeper and he hisses and she moans at the feeling. "I want to look at the necklace from this angle now."
She laughs and shakes her head at his antics, hand coming up around his neck to play with his hair. "You know I wear this thing half the time we have sex."
"I know, but I'm appreciating it today. Let me be."
"Okay."
She grins and lets her head fall back as he kisses her chest. His attention falls to her breasts again, this time with his mouth - nipping and biting before placing a kiss directly on the golden circle of her necklace that's between them.
"I love you so much," he mumbles into her chest and she closes her eyes in pleasure and warmth, her whole body feeling warm and content at his words.
They'd thrilled her, before.
But now – after thinking she'd never hear them again – they fill her with a contentment she can't even describe.
It's one of the things that she has always loved about their sex life since their very first night together. They can tease, they can laugh, they can be soft and sentimental, they can be dirty, and they can change gears like the flip of a switch. They'd felt an ease together since the very beginning that allowed them to feel those vulnerabilities and let go and have fun together. The trust they had in each other kept it from ever being awkward or uncomfortable, even in the early days when she had thought it might. They feel comfortable saying what they like and what they need, there's no self-consciousness, and everything is fun and god, it's amazing
She wants to reply, but suddenly he thrusts into her again – and again – the thrusts becoming harder and quicker, his hand doing sinful things between her legs, and she can't say much else before she's falling over the edge with a sharp gasp and a moan, arching her back and grabbing onto his arm. Tim's release is right behind hers and he lets his head fall to her shoulder as she feels him let go inside of her, then they catch their breath and laugh.
He moves off her and pulls her into him, after, and lets one hand stroke her side and the other drift to her chest where he mindlessly plays with the necklace.
"I don't think I can ever give you another one," he thinks out loud with a laugh, "because you won't take this one off."
She chuckles, snuggles into him. "Then get creative with other gift ideas," she mumbles into his chest as she gives way to sleep. "You're good at it," she murmurs.
"Maybe panties," he teases into her ear and she momentarily becomes more alert and huffs out a laugh.
"No!" she giggles as she burrows deeper into his side and closes her eyes in contentment.
5.
Lucy's lost in a haze of exhaustion and contentment – a strange combo, but one she's come to embrace the past few months.
She's rocking gently in the glider in her daughter's nursery, the window cracked open a bit to let in a nice spring breeze. Kojo's curled up by her feet in a beam of sunlight – he's rarely left her side since she was pregnant, but now she's not sure if it's her or the baby he wants to be nearby. She's exhausted – it had been one of those sleepless nights – but right now she feels a contentment as her daughter nurses peacefully, one tiny hand resting on her breast.
She opens her eyes when she feels her detach, looks down at the baby with a tender smile. Her daughter's soft blue eyes are looking up at her, full of wonder and contentment.
The baby reaches up, hand coming to grasp the gold necklace settled on her mother's chest.
Lucy hums. "You like that? It's pretty, huh? Yeah, Daddy picked that out." The baby gurgles and smiles up at her. "Just don't choke Mommy, please," Lucy teases as she lets her eyes close softly, rocking the baby gently in the glider.
She lets her mind wander back to that Valentine's Day, years ago now. The first gift Tim had ever given her, the first physical symbol of their relationship– before there was a shared home, wedding bands, a child.
The thrilling time when they first got together, everything exciting and promising and new.
The painful time of the breakup, when she'd hidden it away in anger after she'd felt it mocking her.
The hopeful time when she felt she could put it on again.
The joyful time when she was able to wear it again, their future promised to them once more.
And now, here they were – not just the two of them anymore, but the three of them – necklace still adorned on her chest.
She has rings now, too – an engagement ring and a wedding ring – and he has one of his own to match. Rings that are another symbol of their love, of the joy and happiness they feel, their commitment, jewelry they wear through the good times and the hard times.
They both know it's not always going to be easy, even though they've already come this far – that there's going to be bumps in their road ahead, bumps that their wedding rings will weather with them, wearing them through it until they're out the other side.
Her necklace, though, has been there since the start. From their early days together, through the worst period of their relationship thus far (and, what she hopes will remain to be the worst, because a separation has to top the list) that their rings weren't privy to.
Tim teases her about how much she loves it – good naturedly, of course, because she knows he's proud he picked out something she loves so. He jokingly laments how he's limited to earrings and bracelets for the rest of their lives if he wants to buy her jewelry, because her neck and ring fingers are already claimed for good between her necklace, wedding rings, and her moonstone ring.
(He does have good taste in earrings. She's gotten quite a few pairs.)
She thinks back to the day he gave it to her, how new and exciting it all was then, a future like this already a dream she hoped they would get to achieve.
The day she angrily took it off and threw it behind her dresser, this future surely gone - if only she could've seen herself now back then, nursing their daughter with the gold pendent clasped in her tiny fist.
"Lucy."
"Huh?" she opens her eyes and realizes Tim is standing in front of her. The baby has dozed off, necklace still in her light grasp as she sleeps.
"Let me take her," he says softly. She nods letting Tim reach for their daughter, as he gently releases the tiny baby's grasp on the necklace before lifting her carefully into his arms as not to wake her. "Looks like I'm going to be buying her jewelry, too," he teases softly as Lucy adjusts her shirt to cover up.
"You do have good taste," she says with a yawn. "Could get expensive. Especially when we have more kids."
He chuckles. "Oh, so we're having more now? You're past 'This is the only child you'll ever have, Tim Bradford,' and 'You're never touching me again?'"
She snorts. "I mean, I already reneged on the touching thing, so…"
Tim kisses her on the forehead. "Get some rest, I'll put her down."
"Mmhmm," Lucy agrees, letting her eyes flutter closed.
"In our bed, maybe," Tim adds, recognizing she's about to fall asleep in the glider. He shifts the baby so that he can reach a hand out towards her and she sighs, not wanting to move, but takes it anyway and lets him pull her up.
"Come lie down with me after," she says sleepily. "I know you didn't sleep much last night either."
He nods. "I'll be there in a minute."
As she heads towards their bedroom, she lets her hand drift to the gold pendent around her neck, touching it thoughtfully.
It is forever.