The trouble with Tim Bradford was that he was a good man.

Obviously, as his girlfriend, there were far worse things for Ashley to worry about, but here she was.

She sat at his dining table with a glass of wine, watching him put the finishing touches on what looked like a gourmet dinner. He wasn't a brilliant cook, he had warned her, but the few things he could cook were very good.

Her eyes flickered towards the glass doors leading out to the back yard. Kojo was lounging on the grass, chewing on a bone, looking perfectly content.

Ashley liked dogs.

She did.

She was just scared of them, after a nasty bite when she was a child.

And she knew Kojo was a sweetheart - had spent enough time around to know he was safe - but the fear had never gone away.

Tim, bless him, had just made sure that Kojo was in the back yard when she was there.

But that wasn't sustainable.

Neither was the situation with Lucy Chen.

Tim insisted that there was no situation, that they were just friends, and Ashley believed him.

At least, she believed that he believed that.

And therein lay the problem.

Tim Bradford was a good man.

Probably the best man she had ever dated.

But his heart had belonged to someone else since before she met him, and he didn't even realise it.

Tim brought the plates over, breaking her out of his thoughts, setting one in front of her with a flourish. "Bon appetit!"

"This smells incredible," Ashley said with a smile. "Thank you so much."

(Another tick in the 'Tim' column - her last few boyfriends had pulled faces when they saw how much she ate and made comments about watching her weight).

"You are very welcome." Tim took the seat opposite her.

Ashley let the first few bites settle her stomach, before saying, more to the plate than to him, "I think we need to talk."

"Okay," Tim said slowly. "Is everything alright?"

Ashley took a deep breath. "I … Maybe not. We … We're friends, right?"

"I mean, I was under the impression we were a bit more than friends," Tim said, sounding bewildered.

Ashley managed a small smile, finally looking up at him. "Well, yeah, but as well as that, we're friends."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I like to think so."

"So you'd be honest with me even if you thought it might hurt me?" Ashley asked, feeling her throat clog up.

The panic that set in his eyes would have made her laugh if she didn't think she was about to cry.

"I … Yes, I would. Is this … Is this about that conversation we had about the double date?" Tim asked. "Because I swear …"

Ashley held up a hand to stop him. "I know. I know you weren't lying to me."

Just yourself, she added in her head, but she wasn't going to say it out loud.

"If I said to you, I think you want to get married one day and have a family, would I be right?"

Tim's mouth opened and closed a few times while he clearly fought for the right words. "I … Yes, I mean, one day, but I'm not … I mean, not yet."

Ashley nodded. "I thought so." She took a deep breath. "Here's the thing, Tim. I don't want that. Ever. I don't want to be a wife or a mother. I'm scared of dogs and … I've tried, you know I have, but it's not something I'm going to get past any time soon." She reached across the table and took his hand. "You are … the best man I've ever met. Seriously, bench-mark. But I think we're going to get to a point where those two things and the Lucy-thing is going to come between us, and …"

"There is no 'Lucy thing'," Tim interrupted. "I swear."

Ashley smiled sadly. "Right, but you two do share a bond that I don't think you're ever going to duplicate. Also, I know you don't think you have feelings for her, Tim, but if you don't realise within the next year that you're actually burying them so you don't lose her, I'll be very surprised."

"I wouldn't …"

"You wouldn't do that to me," Ashley finished. "I know that. You don't have a malicious bone in your body. Like I said, I like to think we're friends as well. And in my view, we can stop dating now and keep that friendship, or we can lose both when everything comes to a sticking point." She squeezed his hand. "I would rather keep this friendship. Forget what I said about Lucy for a second. It's not fair on you when I don't want what you want. And it's not fair on Kojo to get kicked out every time you have a date."

Tim didn't say anything for a second, and she released his hand in favour of picking up her fork again.

"I saved her life," he said after a while. "Lucy. She was taken. By a serial killer. Made to climb into a barrel and was buried alive."

Ashley went very, very still. She had known that Lucy had some kind of trauma, of course she had.

But that?

"That's why, when that song comes on the radio, I immediately change it. He … He put a camera in there. She sang it to herself as she was dying. When we pulled her out, she was dead. I was the one who … who …"

"Who breathed life back into her," Ashley finished in a whisper. "Oh, Tim …"

Tim took a very shaky breath, "So, yeah, we have a bond that I don't share with anyone else, and I hope I never do."

"Of course," Ashley murmured. "That wasn't a criticism, Tim. Just an observation."

"But … But I guess you do have a point. If we both want very different things …"

Ashley nodded. "Yeah."

"How did you know?" Tim asked. "That I wanted to get married again. Have kids."

Ashley shrugged. "I wasn't certain on the marriage thing, but … You have a kid."

"Not you too," Tim said, his lips quirking. "Kojo is not my child."

"I meant Tamara," Ashley said.

"You've never met Tamara," Tim pointed out.

"No, but I've heard you on the phone with her," Ashley said. "You are absolutely her dad. And you're a great dad. She's lucky to have you, and so will any other child be that gets to call you that. I'm just … not going to be their mom."

"I suppose you'll be the fun auntie that takes them for ice cream and drops them off before bed-time," Tim said tentatively.

Ashley smiled, relief causing tears to sting in her eyes. "I would love that."

And, Tim being Tim, heard the wobble in her voice and got up, rounding the table to pull her to her feet and into a hug.

Tim gave the best hugs, and Ashley hoped that part of their relationship would stay.

She closed her eyes, burying her face in his neck, allowing his steady presence to ground her until she could speak again.

"I just don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Tim said immediately, pulling back to kiss her on the forehead. "Look, I'm going to tell you something no one else knows. Not even Lucy."

And damn did that have her attention.

"Oh?"

"When I was in the Academy, Angela and I dated."

"Angela," Ashley repeated. "Angela Lopez?"

"That's the one," Tim confirmed. "Pretty much broke up for the same reason. Didn't want the same things. She wanted to keep things casual, I didn't; we both agreed that the friendship was more important."

"And now you're her son's godfather," Ashley said softly.

"And she's like my sister," Tim said gently. "And, yeah, we had to work together, which helped the staying in touch thing, but … We're not losing each other, okay?"

Ashley nodded into his shoulder and, as he pressed a purely affectionate kiss to her hairline, felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders.

She loved Tim - wasn't in love with him, but could so easily have fallen, had she allowed herself to.

And down that path led only heartbreak and misery.

This … This was so much better.

Tim released her with a smile. "We good?"

Ashley nodded again, a genuine smile on her face. "We're good."

Tim might have said something else, but at that moment, his phone began to ring.

He glanced at it almost out of habit, before his brow creased with concern. "It's Tamara. I've got to get this."

"Yeah, of course," Ashley said, sitting down again. She assumed the call was going to be a random pick-up given the time of evening (although why the girl hadn't called Lucy was a mystery), but Tim's voice suddenly turned sharp.

"Where are you?! … Tamara … No, no, I'm not angry, sweetheart … Just tell me where you are; can you give me an address? Alright, can you get somewhere safe?"
Ashley immediately jumped to her feet again, searching for her shoes, thankful that she hadn't had more than a few sips of her wine.

"Sorry, Ash … What are you doing?"

Ashley grabbed his keys. "I'm going to drive. You're going to call in whatever back-up you need. She's in trouble, right?"

"She thinks someone spiked her drink," Tim said, following her out of the house. "She's locked herself in one of the upstairs rooms, but she sounds terrified."

"I'm not surprised," Ashley murmured, climbing into the truck.

It was a mark of how worried Tim was that he didn't argue.

Tim didn't let anyone drive his truck.

Ever.

Not even his girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend, he supposed.

(He should probably be more upset about that, now that he thought about it.)

But all he could think about was Tamara, and the way her voice had shaken, the way she sounded like she was either about to cry or throw up, and he found he didn't care if Ashley drove or not.

He gave her the address, and then immediately called Dispatch, requesting an RA and patrol officers to the same place.

Then he called Lucy.

She didn't answer, which was a concern - Lucy always answered his calls; he'd drilled that into her on her first week.

Right now, however, Tamara was his first priority.

By the time they pulled up outside the house, he could hear sirens on their way, but he didn't wait for them, shouldering his way into the house party.

It looked like a typical high school party to him, no hard liquor that he could see, loud music, and enough mess that the absent parents would be stuck cleaning for the rest of the weekend.

"Fuck, cop," someone said.

"Tamara," Tim snapped. "Where is she?"

"I-I think she went upstairs," one of the girls said shakily. "We're not doing anything wrong, I swear."

"This your house?" Tim asked, unsurprised when she followed him up the stairs.

"Yeah, but there's no booze, I promise."

"Your parents know?"

The girl's silence was an answer all on its own.

There was a teenage boy hammering on one of the doors. "C'mon, baby; let me in. You know you want to!"

"Back off," Tim snarled.

"You gonna make me?" The kid asked, all male bravado.

Tim almost laughed, but the girl behind him made a little noise. "Dylan …"

"You know this guy?" Tim asked.

"He's my older brother," the girl said. "Dylan, he's a cop."

'Dylan' went very, very still. "Look, man, I'm just worried about my girl, yeah?"

"Dylan, you don't have a girl."

"Shut your mouth," her brother snarled.

Tim pulled out his phone and called Tamara again. He could hear her phone ringing behind the closed door, but she didn't answer. "Door locked?"

"Yeah, it locks from the inside," the girl said, keeping Tim between her and her brother. "I don't know where the key is."

Tim didn't bother to wait for someone to find it. With one solid kick, the door splintered inwards, revealing Tamara slumped on the floor, vomit pooling under her head.

The girl swore loudly.

"What did you give her?" Tim asked, rushing to her side.

Dylan began protesting. "I didn't give her nothing, man; she probably …"

Tim glared at him. "She already called me, said she thought her drink had been spiked."

The sirens were pulling up outside now.

"What did you give her?!"

The boy scowled. "I'm not saying anything until I speak to a lawyer."

The music shut off downstairs and everyone fell silent.
"Sergeant?"

"Officer Nolan," Tim called. "We are upstairs." He scooped Tamara into his arms and carried her out of the room.

Nolan met him at the top of the stairs. "What happened?"

"Possible roofie," Tim answered. "He's my main suspect. She's his sister; it's their house." He hesitated. "She seems scared of him; don't leave them alone together."

"Got it. RA's outside. Bailey's on-duty tonight."

Of course she was, because Bailey was everywhere.

Sometimes it bothered Tim, but right now he was just grateful for a familiar face.

Bailey met them at the door with a stretcher and Tim carefully lowered Tamara on to it.

"Ashley filled me in," Bailey said briskly. "Has she said anything?"

"Found her like this," Tim answered. "Tamara Collins, 17 years old, no allergies or underlying conditions that we know of. Officer Chen is her primary contact but I know I'm on there as secondary. She told me on the phone that she hadn't drunk anything alcoholic but that she thought her drink had been spiked. She was lying on her side in a pool of vomit."

Bailey nodded, as he kept pace with her. "We'll take her to the hospital. You coming with?"

"Go," Ashley said, her eyes wide as she took in Tamara. "I'll meet you there."