Things get better, after the elevator. (Their second time in the elevator, post breakup, that is.)

There's less awkwardness between them. They're able to talk about cases and suspects together without that momentary awkward hesitation beforehand. She laughs at things he says, sometimes. Gives him a small smile in greeting and bids him goodnight when she passes him in the parking structure. She lets him hold a door open for her here and there.

Then, they get even better. They are able to ride together, seamlessly, for the first time. Then, they ride together and it's actually… nice. They're able to talk normally, they stop for lunch. He tries to pay, an act of kindness that he's vowed to give to her – she refuses, the dose apparently too large for now.

They're able to sit near each other when the team goes out for drinks in honor of Aaron's birthday, and she even starts a conversation with him about her crazy shift on patrol.

It should feel good, he knows.

But it terrifies him.

They've settled into a new normal, back into a tentative friendship. Things feel good, the breakup is starting to fade into the past, and that eats away at his gut because he knows things are leveling out and that this is what it will be forever. These are the small doses of him that she's willing to accept into her life – a colleague she likes working with, maybe could even consider a friend.

When the waiter at the bar brings her a beer and smiles at her and jokes with her and she smiles and jokes back, Tim feels a hot rush of anxiety shoot through his body, making him feel dizzy.

Because he knows. He knows it's only a matter of time until she meets someone else, moves on, and he can't say a damn thing about it because he broke up with her and he pledged to her to be in her life in the smallest way that she'll allow.

Then all of a sudden on a random Tuesday night, it happens.

He's waiting for the elevator when he sees her approaching out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey," she greets, offering a smile. He nods at her and they wait. "Did you push the button?"

He rolls his eyes playfully. "No, I'm just standing here willing the elevator to arrive."

He hears her give a little laugh. "Shut up," she retorts and he turns to give her a playful smirk when he sees it.

The necklace.

She's wearing the necklace that he gave her for Valentine's Day, the first and only holiday they shared together. The necklace she wore religiously for months, down to the very last moment when he broke up with her. The necklace she was wearing in the parking lot when he walked away from her, a shiny gold glimmer against a sea of black.

She notices, he's pretty sure, but the elevator arrives and the spell is broken and they both step inside. He pushes the button for both of them – already knows she's parked on the same level as him because of course he kept an eye out for her car this morning – when he sneaks a glance at her again, convinced he must be crazy.

"What?" she asks, her voice betraying the question as it conveys that she absolutely knows what he's seeing.

"Nothing," he says quickly, confused. It doesn't mean anything, does it? It's just a necklace. Maybe she put it on without thinking. Maybe enough time has passed that she just thinks of it as a necklace from someone she considers a friend again. Maybe…

But women don't usually wear jewelry from their ex-boyfriends, do they?

Is she trying to send a message to him?

Tim of the past – the not so recent past – probably would've not dared to make a comment.

"I like your necklace," he finally caves, looking straight ahead as he doesn't dare to chance a glance at her, and he can feel her grin of victory without even looking at her.

"Thanks," she says simply. "It's special. It means a lot to me."

He bites his lip because he feels his eyes burning with unshed tears. This means something. It means something. She's telling him something.

He doesn't know what to do.

"Tim," she says quietly.

He his entire stomach churns in anticipation of what her words might be. "Yeah?

"You can increase the doses," she says simply.

"Okay," he breathes, and the elevator descends into silence again. He's honestly not sure exactly what she wants, though he knows it's a good sign. But he has talked about her in therapy – not to actually say she's a freak in the sheets, of course - but about their relationship and how he's never really been good at communicating, something Lucy thrives on. "Lucy, we have to be clear, here."

She nods, surprised at his words. "You're right," she agrees easily.

He takes a deep breath before he asks, "Are you open to getting back together?"

"Are you open to that? I mean – you're the one who ended it, after all."

He sucks in a breath, because of course she's not sure, not when he walked away. "Yes. I… still have a lot to work on. But now that I'm in therapy and it's actually helping, I know I have a way to work through my issues. I can be the person you deserve. Now I see that there's a way to grow and still be with you at the same time. That I can - and need to - work though things with you. But you're in control here, Lucy. When or even if it happens – it's your call."

He feels like a million hours pass before she nods. "I'm open to it. I'm not ready for it yet. I'm ready to try and build this back a little bit more, see if it has a chance of being what it was before. I know it won't be the same. It shouldn't be. But I need to see if I can feel that same trust and faith in us again. So, you can up the doses just a little bit." She looks down at her feet and then back up at him. "But you have to be sure, Tim. You have to, because I cannot go through this pain again and I'm not going to be the woman a guy can be with and walk away from over and over."

"No, I," he falters, because for all he's worried about what she deserves, he definitely knows she doesn't deserve that. "No, you're right. You shouldn't be. You won't be. Honestly, anyone that fumbles you shouldn't even get a second chance."

She laughs, truly laughs, the smile reaching her eyes. "Don't make me rethink this." He makes a motion of zipping his lips and she shakes her head at him in amusement as the elevator dings and the doors open. "You can start by bringing me coffee in the morning. No complaints about how I take it, either."

He lets out a laugh. "Yes, ma'am."

She steps out of the elevator, shooting a smile at him over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

He nods as the doors close, staring at them for a long moment before he realizes he was supposed to get off, too.