Chapter Text
“I think I just stepped on a pressure plate.”
Tim’s heart stops beating as he stares at Lucy, frozen on top of a small raised square.
“Okay, okay just…” he begins, but he isn’t exactly sure what to say. One wrong move and they’ll both blow into a million little pieces.
They’ve both seen pressure plates dozens of times; they know to signal for the bomb squad, who will know how to correctly disable the contraption without setting the entire garage ablaze.
But something stops him as he reaches for his radio: Lucy’s fate is in his hands. If she so much as moves a muscle the wrong way, it’s over. And if he’s unluckily enough to survive the explosion… well, he doesn’t want to think about that.
“It seems really sensitive,” Lucy eventually says, breaking Tim out of his trance.
“Yeah, it’s…” Tim observes the plate underneath Lucy, the wires sloppily connected together. It looked weak, which could either be a really good, or really bad, thing.
Lucy’s leg shakes on top of the contraption; she’s trying to put just enough weight to keep it stable. Tim’s anxiety grows as he observes her calve muscles twitching, the plate shifting ever so slightly underneath her.
“Luce, you need to step on it,” he says quietly.
“What?”
“You- you're going to tire out your muscles by holding your leg out. You need to put all of your weight down so that you can be stable enough until the bomb squad comes.” Saying this out loud reminds Tim that neither of them had alerted the station.
Tim pulls out his radio and finally gets a hold of someone: “Control, this is 7-A-100, alert the bomb squad. Officer Chen has stepped on what we believe is a pressure plate.” His tone and calm and collected, though on the inside, he worries that all of his organs are about to explode.
Bombsquad is approximately 20 minutes out, meaning it’s Tim’s job to keep Lucy safe until then. And while twenty minutes may sound like a short amount of time, it feels like a lifetime when you’re standing on a ticking time bomb.
“I don’t want to step on it,” Lucy says shakily. Her eyes are fixed on the sight below her: a deathtrap. Suddenly, every minor inconvenience and argument she’s ever had dissipates into thin air.
It’s not that she doesn’t trust Tim. In fact, there isn’t anyone on this Earth she would entrust her life with, besides him. But part of her believes that any movement is a death wish.
“I know, but you have to,” Tim affirms. He finally stands up and heads towards her, but keeps a few feet of distance between their bodies.
Lucy, knowing that Tim is correct, closes her eyes and leans forward, slowly beginning to shift her weight fully onto the plate. She doesn’t let out a breath until she’s fully onto the contraption.
“Okay, okay,” she whispers as she slightly adjusts herself onto the middle, making sure her weight is evenly distributed.
It’s completely silent around them, the lack of car engines and giggling children making it significantly more eerie than it already is.
Lucy takes a few deep breaths, grounding herself. “This kind of thing happens all the time,” she whispers to herself, though loud enough for Tim to hear.
“Yes, yes it does. It’s easy to disarm, and once the bomb squad gets here, it’s all going to be okay,” Tim reassures her, though he isn’t the least bit convincing. Deep down, they know it’s true; but it’s hard to believe when you’re knocking on death's door.
“I didn’t see it,” Lucy tells Tim, though her eyes remain fixed on the ground below her.
“I know.”
”I should have seen it. It’s a pressure plate for god sakes. I wasn’t paying attention. I should have been looking-” she rambles, but Tim quickly cuts her off.
”Hey, hey, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault. People make mistakes, it happens. You aren’t the first, or last, officer to step on a pressure plate. We thought everything was clear, you were just trying to get out. It’s my fault for distracting you.”
“It’s so stupid,” she whispers, tears stinging in the corner of her eyes. “I’m scared.”
Tim’s heart breaks as he watches the tears roll down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling as she stares at him, helpless.
“Lucy,” he chokes, stepping closer to her.
”No!,” she frantically holds her hand out, “don’t come closer.”
“Lu-”
“You shouldn’t even be near me right now,” she says quietly.
Technically, she’s right. According to protocol, Tim should be at least ten feet away from her right now. In fact, she wouldn’t blame him if he got in the shop and drove as far as he could. But this is Tim, and there is no doubt that he’ll stay by her side, for as long as she needs. Even if that’s forever.
“I’m not leaving you,” Tim asserts confidently, stepping closer.
_____
Over twenty minutes have passed, and there isn’t anything more Lucy or Tim could do to deescalate the situation. No matter how many times Tim would reassure her, the plate would still be underneath her.
“Can we get an update on the bomb squad?” Tim asks into his radio when things become painfully silent, hoping to pass along a sense of ease into Lucy.
“I’m sorry Officer Bradford, but it looks like they’re going to take a bit longer than anticipated…” Nell delivers disappointedly.
Tim’s blood boils; his grip onto the radio tightening with anger. “Excuse me?”
”They got tied up in another case… I’ll try to get someone over as soon as I can. Tell Chen to hold on.” Nell quickly disconnects the line, leaving Tim alone with an extremely frantic Lucy.
“Please tell me I heard that wrong,” Lucy winces. Tim wishes she heard that wrong, and he doesn’t have the heart to verbally admit what’s happening.
He gazes over at Lucy, taking note of the beads of sweat along her forehead, and occasional twitch of her muscles. She was starting to get restless and tired; it was only a matter of time before she involuntarily moved and set something off.
And there is only one thing Tim can do: take her spot.
“Lucy, I’m going to step on, and you’re going to step off,” he instructs confidently. Lucy’s eyes widen with horror as he steps closer to her, their bodies a mere foot apart.
“N- no! No you’re not!” she exclaims frantically holding her hands out. There is no way she is going to let Tim attempt this transfer, which has more often than not ended in explosions. “It’s too risky, back up!”
“This is clearly poorly made, and can go off in any second. I’m not going to let you keep standing on that death trap without a bomb squad en route,” he explains calmly, though Lucy’s face turns red with anger.
“How do you know that the movement won’t cause it to explode to begin with?” she asks angrily. Her hands ball up into fists as her body begins to heat up, with both anxiety and anger.
She was right. If they messed this up, it was over for both of them. But Tim could not, and would not just sit there and watch the love of his life stand on top of a bomb.
So without saying another word, he ignores her constant protesting cries and steps forward onto the plate, grabbing onto Lucy. He engulfs her entire body, pulling her so close to his chest that she becomes an extension of him.
”Tim, what are you doing?” she cries, though her voice is muffled by his shirt. “No, no,” she repeats as he tries to lift her off.
But as her left foot enters the air, he feels a mechanism crack below him, tilting the angle of the plate.
Shit. With no choice left, he lowers her foot back onto the plate, redistributing their weight evenly along the contraption.
“I’ve got you,” he assures her once they’re stable, grabbing onto her tighter as she shakes.
Lucy opens her mouth, presumably to yell at Tim; to tell him that he’s stupid and selfish, and he should have just waited for the professionals to come. But she doesn’t.
”My head hurts,” she whispers softly, instead. She knows that chastising him won’t disable the bomb, so there is no point in wasting her energy on helpless words.
“I know,” Tim responds just as gently, kissing the top of her forehead. He swiftly moves his arms up from her back to her head. He carefully runs his fingers along her hair, searching for pins and hair ties holding her bun together. It takes him a few minutes, but he successfully pulls everything out, relieving her head of the slicked back style.
Tim throws the accessories a few feet away and digs his fingers into her scalp, massaging it as her fair falls down her back. He runs his hands through it, carefully untangling the few tangles that arose throughout the day.
For over ten minutes they remain intertwined, Tim stroking Lucy’s back as she leans into him, breathing deeply. They haven’t heard from dispatch in a long time, and they’re both beginning to lose hope. They could only stand there for so long.
“We need a plan,” Tim eventually remarks, breaking the comfortable silence surrounding them.
Lucy pulls away, albeit she can’t move far, and nods. There had to be something they could do.
“One of us needs to step off and try to disarm this,” Tim explained shakily. He knows that it’s risky the moment it pops in his head, but it felt as if the device was going to crumble any second; sitting around and doing nothing didn’t exactly put his mind any more at ease.
“W- no. No, no one is stepping off of this,” Lucy exclaims. “That’s- there has to be a better way.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
Truth be told, she doesn’t. In fact, she agreed that they needed to take matters into their own hands. But she also knows that Tim isn’t going to let her take the riskier job. Though, it seemed like a lose-lose situation to her. So she decides to trust her gut, trust Tim.
“Alright, so… who’s going?’ she asks, though it’s purely out of common courtesy. She knows that he’s going to be noble, and force her off of the plate.
Instead of verbal confirmation, he simply lifts his hands up and gently places them onto her cheeks. He gazes down at her face, her tear stained cheeks illuminated by the few beams of sunlight peeking through the garage.
She blinks up at him slowly, taking in every inch of him: the worry in his eyes, slight stubble on his chin. Before she realizes, he’s pressing his warm lips onto hers. And for a moment, she forgets that they’re standing on a bomb. She feels safe.
His scent, his thumbs along her cheek; her surrounds have disappeared through his touch. For the first time in a long time, everything is okay.
She would be perfectly content if this was the last thing she ever remembered. If things were to end for her, right here right now, they ended in a way that she finds satisfying. Because she’s connected to Tim.
It’s always been Tim, and she’s always known that. She wishes that she spoke up earlier, not allowing her fears and doubts to get in the way of her heart. She constantly yearned for him, and every time she would finally have him, she got scared.
It was stupid, but having him meant that she could also lose him. Now that they might lose everything, she wants nothing more than to have taken the risk.
Though, she’s pulled back to reality quickly, as they both run out of breath. With locked eyes, Tim grabs her hand and holds it tightly.
”Ready?” Lucy nods and hesitantly lets go of his hand. She closes her eyes and bends her right leg while lifting her left leg off of the plate.
By some miracle, she’s able to safely step off of the plate without sending it ablaze. She lets out a deep breath as she wipes her hands on her linen uniform.
”You’re doing great,” Tim encourages as she bends down, trying to get a look at the contraption. She had learned vague details about bombs at the academy; enough to get by in dire situations, but not enough to do so confidently.
And when she looks at the construction, she’s more than confused. This was not how pressure plates were typically connected; the wires were all tangled and she couldn’t find a central unit.
Wait. She couldn’t find a central unit.
Her hand flies over her mouth, stifling a laugh. She buries her head into her hands, shaking her head.
”Lucy, what?” Tim asks in a concerned manner. He can’t exactly tell if she’s laughing or crying, though the first option doesn’t exactly seem appropriate.
“Oh my god,” she wipes her eyes, “this isn’t assembled.”
”What?”’
Tim fears that he’s heard her incorrectly, but she repeats herself.
“This isn’t assembled, it’s not active.”
Tim is speechless; if she was right, they were about to be deemed the dumbest cops in the entire station.
“Come on, get off,” she instructs, standing up and holding her hands out. Tim refrains, still weary of Lucy’s conclusion.
“I promise, you’re fine.”
A lot of people have made empty promises in Tim’s life; Lucy was never one of them. Lucy wouldn’t promise something if she wasn’t utterly confident, so he grabs on her hand and steps off of the plate. He grabs onto her waist, just in case.
But thankfully, Lucy is right. The plate makes a few noises, but doesn’t explode.
“Well, I feel stupid,” Lucy chuckles dryly, but she doesn’t remove herself from Tim’s arms.
“I mean, I think we’re both at fault here,” Tim smiles, “but the important thing is that we’re safe.”
“Yeah,” Lucy sighs. She doesn’t know what to say next; just five minutes ago she thought her life was about to end. Regret swarmed in her mind every single minute that she was on the plate. And even though it was a false alarm, it opened up her eyes. She finally knew how she really felt, and it was wrong to ignore it.
“Look, Tim, I-” Lucy begins, but she’s quickly interrupted.
“Lucy, there is no need to apologize. This was definitely both of our faults.
“Actually,” she blushes, embarrassed. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh, I- I’m just going to shut my mouth and let you talk now,” Tim laughs, but his cheeks turn a little rosy.
Lucy’s heart beats as she stares at Tim, still in his arms. “I love you.”
”What?” That is most definitely not what Tim expected her to say.
“I mean, of course you already knew that, but I just thought I would say it. I’ve put you through a lot of confusing things recently, and I guess I just didn’t want to admit that I was scared. I wanted this, but my anxiety got in the way. If today showed me anything, even though it was fake, it showed me that I’ve been hiding behind my fear of rejection for so long, and I feel terrible. I just-”
Tim cuts off her monologue with a kiss, swallowing up her words before they leave her mouth. He knows exactly what she’s going to say, because he’s fantasized about this moment about a million times.
And even though it took a (fake) bomb to get here, a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Well, it’s more like half of a weight lifted off; they both know that this relationship is going to take a lot of work and patience, but they’re taking the first step.
“Come on,” Tim smiles down at her, “let’s go home.”
“Yeah,” Lucy blushes. “Wait, well… we need to go to the station first.”
Tim laughs as they walk away from the broken contraption, “yes, but then we can go home.”
And even if it took a bomb to get there, they’re here.
They’re home.