Intellectually, Tim Bradford knew this made sense.
Jackson's death hit everyone hard, but Lucy took the punch. She was his best friend, his roommate, his confidante; a fellow rookie. More than once had Tim heard her jokingly refer to Jackson as her 'little brother', though her sweet tone said otherwise. It wasn't a joke. Lucy and Jackson were family and she just lost her brother.
So, yeah. It didn't take a genius to figure out Lucy needed someone to grieve with, that would understand, that would give her space and closeness and everything in between. Intellectually, Tim deduced he was the right fit for that. Nyla and her weren't super close, Angela was busy with the baby, the weird history with Nolan kept him out of the equation, too. (Tim didn't even begin to question or plow through that one — for his sanity, it was best he never found out.)
Emotionally, however, it was a whole other ball game. Because Lucy wasn't just his friend, or previous rookie, or fellow police officer. She was Lucy. Tim preferred to not linger on the multitudes she contained, but in vulnerable times like these, it was hard not to.
The perfume, a blend of cardemom and roses and citrus, tickling his nose when they hugged. The chime of her laugh every time he sold a joke. Drifting gaze on her pouted lips as she calculated a situation or problem, as though he shouldn't be focusing on the same thing. Her soothing voice, her bravery, her enviable resilience, her strength and smarts and style. Her, her, her. An intoxicating dosis of her as she slept over multiple times a week on the couch, mere feet away from his lonely bedroom.
Safe to say it drove him wild.
He had to remind himself he was a goddamn thirty-six year old man that has fought wars and faced Death every day on the job. He literally underwent an illegal mission to Guatemala to save Angela. But he couldn't keep his cool because the woman he liked slept in the other room? The fuck?
Then again... 'like' might be an understatement. Tim would be a fool if he didn't recognise his feelings for Lucy had grown past a simple infatuation, or prolonged adrenaline rush. Tim loved her.
Which was why he always waited in bed until he heard her alarm softly ring in the other room a bit past seven, listening how she stumbled from the couch to the bathroom, allowing him the limited time to tidy his (her?) couch and prepare breakfast. When she found out the first time, she objected, but his cool exterior and snark quickly shot that discussion down.
Which was why he bought her coffee and lunch more often during their breaks. His stomach twisted inside out with stupid pubescent glee each time her face lit up at the sight of a perfect burger with extra pickle, ordered without having to ask.
Which was why he didn't intercept whenever dudes started asking her out again, though the sympathetic looks of Nyla and Nolan nauseated him plenty. He felt a quiet sense of satisfaction with each rejected man.
Now, Tim didn't toss and turn at the seven fifteen alarm. He waited, he listened to her disappear into the bathroom, he got up and got moving, put on the radio (a music station, since she liked that) and cracked open eggs above a simmering pan. It felt natural. Especially when Lucy emerged in her street clothes and slipped around him to the coffee maker, as if this was a regular morning for them.
Maybe it was.
Pouring her cup, Lucy moved past him to the breakfast bar when he stopped her at the last moment, impulsive.
Her brows raised. "What?"
Before all the bullshit, Isabelle and him had been an easy match. They were made of the same cloth: pragmatic, straightforward, efficient. Though Tim did truly love her, he held different emotions for her than now for Lucy. This felt... insurmountable. Indescribable. His mouth opened and closed, yet nothing in the English language could explain what he experienced each second of the day when he was with her and when he wasn't with her. He felt himself going mad. Tim was in love with Lucy.
Figuring their staring match had gone on too long, he dropped her elbow and crossed his arms instead. "I love you."
Lucy blinked. "W-what?"
Tim caught what he said a beat too late. What the fuck. "Yeah."
"Um... okay." She set her cup down and nervously clutched onto her necklace. Tim felt himself being ripped in all directions by monstrous tides, not being in control rather uncharted territory. "Can- can we talk about this after... work? Please?"
Tim grimaced. "And sit it in the shop together all day? That'll be worse than your last day as boot."
"Well," she sputtered, decidedly taking a step back. "I'm sorry, but you kind of sprung this on me, so..."
"I know," he rushed. "I know that. But you can't deny something is..." God, he hated this. He hasn't done this in years. Mustering the courage, he continued with, "there. You're a good cop, Lucy, you know it, too."
She groaned, exasperated. "Please don't make this about our job."
"I'm out of my depth here, Lucy!" he exclaimed. Frustration rose. "Just- let's finish the conversation now. I can't do it later."
"Can't or won't?"
"Lucy."
Her face steeled in a way he hadn't seen before. Her lips set in a thin line, jaw taut, yet her eyes shimmered with unbridled emotion that only she possessed of. He thought back of the infamous wedding, prior to the abduction, of how beautiful she looked, of her red lips stretched in a teasing smile. He remembered just how great that moment felt, that if he could, he'd prolong it.
"Tim..." she whispered. Her saddened tone held no hint of silver lining, his shoulders dropping with defeat. "We've lost... I can't lose more people that I love."
He latched onto her hands in a snap. Suddenly, the words came to him. "You won't though. You won't lose me."
Lucy shook her head, unshed tears welling, though didn't let go. "You can't promise that. Jackson didn't think he'd die so soon either."
"But is that really the thing that should hold us back? Life is unpredictable. Tomorrow, it could all be over for us."
"Tim."
He smiled. "Lucy."
And then she hugged him. Her arms tightly wrapped around him and he reflexively followed, cradling the back of her head and holding her close. Whatever happened after this, he'd take it; for now, his heart beat in sync with hers and a swooning sense of adoration filled his chest.
"I love you," she whispered in his shirt.
Oh, man. Nothing beat her uttering those sweet words to him. His nose pressed in the crown of her head and let the smile stretch to a beam. "You're never gonna lose me, Chen."
Her chin ticked up and that was all he needed.
A kiss before his morning coffee felt like a good place to start.
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Hi I was the one who asked if I could resend my prompt: Henry goes home with Regina in 4x01/after the diner scene where Marian comes back. Protective Henry please. Thanks and sorry if you already got this!
Obviously AU - but how it could have gone.
He finds her a couple blocks from their house, walking slowly, like she’s almost in some kind of numb daze. He hasn’t lived very long and he doesn’t really understand a whole lot about relationships, but Henry knows that dead wives brought back from the past isn’t something that happens every day. More like never and yet right now his mother, the woman who has worked so hard to be a better person and let everyone see the good inside of her has been struck by some kind of cruel reminder that nothing ever seems to work out for her. But he thinks to himself that he won’t allow her to believe that, won’t allow her to lose the hope that she has fought so hard for. So he rushes towards her and when she turns because of his footsteps, he throws himself into her open arms.
She’d barely known he was coming but the moment she’d seen him, her arms had opened as if on instinct and he’d just known what she needed from him. He knows she needs to not be alone right now, not feel like all there is around her is darkness. She’ll tell him differently in a moment - he knows her far too well to suspect otherwise - and she’ll insist that he shouldn’t be here and that she just needs some time to figure everything out. She’ll probably even lie to him and tell him that she’s all right, humoring the idea that such a small lie would be ok.
But it’s not and he holds on tighter and waits for her to relax and he says to her that isn’t over. She protests but he shakes his head and says, “Mom, you are going to be happy; all of us are going to be happy. If it’s with Robin Hood...if it’s not with Robin Hood, it doesn’t matter. You and me, our whole family, we’re going to be happy and I’m not going to lose you...I’m not. Never again, Mom.”
