Chapter Text
+1
Somewhere between 24 and 34 weeks, Lucy's pregnancy seems to hit fast-forward.
They've done their best to soak up every milestone, but they have both learned that this stage of pregnancy, unfortunately, comes with certain limitations. Lucy is spending more time hanging around the station while Tim has been spending more time on patrol. Somehow, they have managed to settle into a rhythm that works well for them, both as Sergeant Bradford and Sergeant Chen and as Tim and Lucy.
It hasn't always been easy. There are still days when Lucy pushes herself a little too hard and days when every instinct in his body tells him to step in before she even asks. But for the most part, they've gotten better at meeting somewhere in the middle.
Lucy has gotten better at asking for help when she needs it and Tim has gotten better at trusting that she will.
He has managed to keep his pinky promise this time.
Mostly.
This is why he finds himself caught off guard when he notices everyone else has started acting strange.
Tim had just checked in with Lucy shortly after returning to the station, making sure she was good, wasn't too hungry, didn't need anything.
Lucy assured him she was fine. Twice.
It's probably why Tim takes note when Penn appears at her desk a few minutes later and drops a granola bar beside her keyboard. She seems just as surprised by the gesture, if the look on her face is any indication.
"I know the peanut butter one is your favorite. They just restocked them in the vending machine," he overhears.
Her expression quickly softens from confusion into a smile.
"Thank you, Miles. That is very sweet," she says, now clutching the bar close to her chest.
"Of course ma'am. Let me know if there is anything you need."
"I will."
Penn walks off and Lucy walks back toward Tim with a little more bounce in her step, still absentmindedly turning the granola bar over in her hands.
"I thought you weren't hungry?" Tim asks, eyeing the snack almost accusingly.
"Hmmm not really, but it's nice to have something on hand."
Huh.
He drops it. For now . . .
Later that evening, after a long day on the streets, Tim finally returns to the station to process his arrest.
If anyone asks, his decision to linger definitely has everything to do with making sure everything is squared away, and nothing to do with the temptation to keep an eye on his very pregnant wife.
Shortly after he enters the bullpen, Harper calls Lucy over to review something on her computer. The second Lucy reaches her desk, Nyla stands and motions toward her seat.
"Sit," Harper orders, leaving no room for argument.
Lucy gives her a look but takes the seat without putting up any kind of fight.
Interesting.
It is not as though Lucy has been necessarily comfortable lately. As her pregnancy has progressed, there have been plenty of moments where Tim has noticed her shifting her weight, stretching out an aching back, or quietly searching for somewhere to sit.
Still, she has never complained about being on her feet.
In fact, just yesterday, much to Tim's annoyance, she had given up her seat in the breakroom to the new rookie without a second thought. When he questioned her about it, she only shrugged and said that if she spent any more time in a chair today that her ass was going to permanently mold to it.
He barely has time to decide whether Harper's behavior is worth reading into before his radio crackles to life, calling for a supervisor a few blocks away and pulling his attention elsewhere.
By the next morning, however, the pattern is impossible to ignore.
Ever since Grey became Captain, he has made it a point to show that even though his office was now upstairs, he was still just as involved in the everyday workings of the station. He would occasionally make the rounds, respond to scenes, or stop by roll call, just long enough to make sure things are running smoothly.
So, when Grey appears at roll call, it doesn't immediately set off any alarm bells in Tim's head.
At least, not until Grey lingers near the front of the room as the officers begin filtering out. With January coming to a close, this is usually when Tim and Lucy are expected in the conference room for their dreaded monthly Sergeant's meeting that Lucy spent the whole drive groaning about.
Lucy stands from her chair with an exaggerated huff, making it known to everyone around that she is less than thrilled about what the next two hours have in store.
"Chen," Grey calls from his spot, watching her with a slightly amused grin.
Lucy meets his gaze. "Sir?"
"I'll take the Sergeants' meeting for you."
Tim pauses halfway through gathering his things. He glances at Lucy who looks equally confused.
"I appreciate that, but you don't need to do that," she says carefully.
"I know."
Grey says it so plainly that Tim does a double take just to make sure he isn't messing with them.
Lucy opens her mouth, presumably to argue, but nothing more than a small croak comes out.
"I've sat through enough of those meetings to know that you are not going to miss anything you can't be filled in on later," Grey continues. "I'll cover it."
For a moment, Lucy just stares at him, disbelief coloring her expression. But then, Tim swears he can almost see the corner of her mouth begin to twitch upward.
"Well . . ." she starts slowly, no longer able to stifle her smile, "If you're sure."
Grey smirks.
"Sergeant Chen, if you would rather, I can certainly just go back upstairs—"
"NO-" she blurts out, before schooling her features. "I mean— thank you. Yes. That would be great."
Tim is still standing at the podium a little dumbfounded, only realizing that his mouth has fallen slightly open when he has to consciously close it.
"It's no problem. I'm sure you can find something useful to do with your time elsewhere."
"Of course, sir." She nods eagerly, significantly more agreeable than she was just a minute ago.
Grey tips his head in her direction before making his way to sit through yet another round of administrative updates that very likely could have been an email.
As Grey disappears down the hallway, Tim turns back to face Lucy who is now gathering her things while looking suspiciously pleased with herself.
Well, that was new.
Maybe the Captain was merely being nice, but as she walks away with a little extra spring in her step, Tim can't help but suspect that Lucy is going to spend much time questioning the gesture.
The meeting went about as predictably as Tim could have expected. He left the conference room with virtually no new information and a dull throb settling just behind his eyes.
Between the headache blooming and the three meetings he has scheduled with the brass that afternoon, he figures it isn't even worth attempting to go on patrol.
He slowly makes his way through the bullpen, stopping briefly at Lucy's desk to check on her, and definitely not just because seeing her smile feels like the only thing capable of making the rest of the afternoon seem remotely tolerable.
Eventually, he tears himself away from her little corner of the station and continues toward his office.
He slumps into his chair with a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, basking in a moment of solitude for the first time today. On days like this, it's rare for him to get more than five uninterrupted minutes without someone needing something from him.
His break lasts all of 30 seconds before a knock sounds against his door. If his eyes were open, he is fairly certain they would be rolled toward the ceiling right now.
"Are you going to acknowledge me or just sit there sleepyhead?" Angela pesters.
"That depends," Tim replies, eyes still closed. "Are you here to discuss police work or are you here to bother me."
"Can't it be both?"
He exhales out of his nose as he finally peels his eyes open to find her already pulling a chair up next to his desk and making herself comfortable.
"Sure, just come right in, why don't you."
She blatantly ignores his comment, relaxing back into the chair and glancing around his office like she is taking it in for the first time. "It's clearly not like you have anything better to do. I literally caught you taking a nap in here."
He scoffs. "I was not taking a nap. I was in here for like 30 seconds before you barged in."
"30 seconds, 30 minutes, it doesn't matter. You obviously aren't too busy."
While he is slammed, Tim knows there is no point in trying to correct her. If he is being honest, this interruption is somewhat welcome in the midst of all the bureaucratic nonsense. Not that he would ever tell her that.
So instead, he just huffs and shakes his head. "Why are you even here?"
"Wow, who pissed in your Cheerios?"
Tim fixes her with an unimpressed look.
"Fine. Fine. I'm here to talk about your wife."
His eyes automatically shoot to the space Lucy has been occupying the last couple of hours. She is simply hunched over some paperwork, but something in him still lights up when he sees her.
"She's fine, Tim. I promise she's not going anywhere."
"Then what do you want to talk about?"
"Well, how is she doing?"
"Did you actually come in here to ask me that? You could have just asked her."
"I know, but I wanted to ask you," she replies with a grin.
He exhales through his nose and lets his gaze fall back on his wife sitting on the other side of the glass.
"She's . . . good. Definitely getting more uncomfortable but she's not going to say anything about it."
"Yeah, she's in the final stretch now."
Tim nods his head, finally looking back toward Angela, only to find her watching him a little too closely.
A few seconds pass without either of them saying anything. The longer she keeps staring, the more annoyed he gets.
"What?"
"Nothing," she starts, "It's just. . . you're doing really good with all of this."
"All of what?" he asks, feeling vaguely confused.
"I'm just saying, she's 34 weeks pregnant and still coming in every day. I know it can't be easy watching her sit miserably around the station."
"I mean yeah, but I trust her to know her limits. She'll say something when it is time. I just have to give her space or she never will."
"Well, it doesn't hurt that she has had more than a little help."
"Angela, if you are going to get on me about hovering—"
"No," she cuts him off. "Surprisingly, I'm not talking about you."
His eyebrows pinch together.
"Don't tell me that you haven't noticed that girl has not had to lift a finger around here in weeks," she says, her voice amused. "The only reason she has anything to do at all is because she keeps finding work for herself."
So, I'm not the only one who has noticed.
"I mean, people have been helping her out more lately, but that's a good thing," he responds. "I'm just glad she is letting them."
Angela raises her eyebrows. "Uh huh. I'm sure you are."
He doesn't dignify her with a response, just turns to finally open his laptop.
"Speaking of . . ."
Tim follows her line of sight to where Lucy has risen from her chair, arms full of the files she had been working on completing over the last couple of days. She takes about three steps before Nolan swoops in, grabbing them out of her arms.
Tim can't exactly tell what Nolan is saying to her, but he can make out the words 'relax' and 'I've got it.' What he can tell is that Lucy is not remotely bothered by the assist, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
"Wow. That was fast," Angela chirps, looking impressed. "I expected her to make it at least five feet this time."
Tim rolls his eyes at her, but now that she has said it out loud, dismissing everything he has noticed over the last few days is becoming more difficult.
"Whatever," he says, pushing up from his chair. "I have a meeting to get to."
Angela stands as well, placing her seat back in its original position. "Hey," she adds. "Are you going to be at Nolan's tonight for the thing?"
"Up to Lucy," he shoots back without thinking much about it.
"So, yes."
Tim nods, looking thrilled.
They begin to part ways as they exit his office, Angela already moving toward where she is actually supposed to be while Tim finds himself still turning her observation over in his head. "See you later," she chuckles as she walks off.
He shakes his head as he walks over to the staircase. He glances up to find Lucy in her usual spot, twiddling a pen with her feet kicked up like she has nowhere else in the world she needs to be.
Maybe Angela is onto something.
He shakes off the idea as he glances at Lucy one last time. Surely Lucy would have voiced some kind of annoyance to him by now. She certainly had no qualms with telling him when he crossed the line.
But then again . . .
She does look awfully content, one hand absentmindedly tracing over her bump.
If Tim thought there was any chance of skipping out on the party at Nolan's he was sorely mistaken. In all honesty, he doesn't even know what the party is for. All he knows is that Lucy essentially dragged him out the door, shoved him in the truck with a flat, "we're going," and muttered something about them spending all of their time at home in a few short weeks.
The party is going about how he expected it to. And, while he would much rather be curled up on his couch with his wife, he can admit that it's not all bad. More than anything he is just glad the ginger isn't singing again.
Tim and Lucy settle into the same routine they always do at events like these. Eat some snacks, have some drinks (though they are both drinking water), and bounce around from person to person until they run out of things to talk about.
Currently, they find themselves tucked away in a corner talking to Nyla and James about James's newest project at the community center. Lucy, naturally, is engrossed in the conversation while he nods his head pretending to listen as he strokes his thumb casually against her hip.
He is glancing across the room when, in his peripheral, he sees Celina sneak up to the table just behind them with a pitcher of water. She quickly refills Lucy's cup before turning back to the kitchen. Lucy doesn't catch on and continues the conversation until it naturally comes to an end.
She announces to Tim that she is going to run to the bathroom for the fifth time this evening. When she comes back she sees the full glass of water and smiles, taking a sip before grabbing him by the hand and pulling him toward another group of people.
Some time has passed and Lucy and Tim are now curled up side by side on the couch. Lucy is leaning heavily against him as she participates in an animated conversation with Nolan about whether they would rather respond to a 211 or a 459.
"At least with a 211 you know you are going to be dealing with people, a 459 you go in blind and you have no idea what you are going to run into. Plus with a 211 you are almost guaranteed a witness." Lucy scoffs at Nolan's argument.
"The only thing you are guaranteed a victim. I would much rather deal with property destruction in a burglary than someone be scared or injured because they were robbed," Lucy says, gesturing her hands wildly through the air.
"I get that, but at least you know that when you are arriving to the scene. You never know when you show up at a house if you are going to find a dead body or have a shoot out with three armed gunmen."
Lucy huffs and leans further into Tim, crossing her arms over her bump. "Let's just agree to disagree." Tim can't help but chuckle at the annoyance laced through her words.
She leans over then and grabs her cup, downing the rest of her water. Tim considers getting up to fill it when she sets it back down on the table, but before he even has the opportunity Celina is leaning over from the chair beside them and grabbing Lucy's glass.
"Do you want me to get you some more water?"
"Um, yeah. Thank you," Lucy responds with a smile.
Tim watches Celina disappear toward the kitchen, his brow furrowing slightly.
That's the second time she has done that tonight.
"Okay, one more thing . . ." Lucy says directing her attention back to Nolan.
About a minute later Celina returns to the living room, setting a glass with fresh water and ice on the table in front of Lucy, as well as a plate of pretzels that Tim knows she definitely didn't ask for.
"Thanks." Lucy beams at the other woman, while reaching to grab a pretzel and popping it in her mouth.
Tim looks suspiciously at Celina as she grins and sits back down in her chair and joins in on the conversation.
Lucy, apparently, sees nothing strange about being handed snacks she never asked for.
The night is finally wrapping up and Tim is more than excited to head home. A couple of people have trickled out already, but of course, Lucy gets sidetracked by basically every person as Tim tries to subtly usher her toward the door.
They were walking to the kitchen when Wesley stops her and asks how work has been going. Somehow, that turns into a five minute explanation about how she is convinced the station coffee causes the baby to have hiccups while Tim taps his foot against the ground, taking in his surroundings as he patiently waits for her to wrap up her conversation.
"Grey told me today that I can start wearing my civvies since I'm not really going out on patrol much anymore."
That snaps him out of it.
"Wait. What?" He whips his head toward her.
She looks from Wesley back to him with her eyebrows pinched together. "Yeah?"
"You didn't tell me that," he says quietly, meant just for her even though he is painfully aware of the set of eyes on them.
Lucy just shrugs. "I didn't think it was a big deal."
Excuse me?
He's not frustrated by anymeans. He's just— actually he doesn't really know what he is. He can't think much past the utter bewilderment of realizing that this happened and it just slipped Lucy's mind to tell him.
They stand there for a moment, sizing each other up, trying to get a read on the other while everyone around watches.
Celina approaches and taps Lucy lightly on the shoulder, probably to break the awkwardness more than anything. "Hey, let me get you some more," she gestures toward the near-empty cup in Lucy's hand.
Lucy looks down as if she is just now realizing, and hands it to the officer.
"Yeah, that would be great," Lucy replies with a soft smile.
Wha—
Again?!?
The water is literally three feet away.
"Oh my god, not you too." The comment slips out of his mouth before he even realizes what he was saying.
Celina stops in her tracks, turning back toward Tim. Both women now look at him suspiciously.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Celina asks.
"When I did this you called me a helicopter husband."
Lucy and Celina exchange a look. He glances around, confirming the attention of virtually everyone else in the room is in fact on them.
Of course.
"She's just being nice Tim," she reasons, batting her eyes at him.
"I've been ignoring this for a while now, but you can't seriously tell me that you have not noticed everyone else doing the exact same thing you got mad at me for.
Lucy's cheeks start to turn pink and she diverts her gaze anywhere except at him.
"In my defense, you were the one who had me start monitoring her water intake in the first place," Celina says.
"Irrelevant."
"And you . . ." he turns back toward Lucy who at least manages to look a little guilty. "You knew this whole time!?!"
"Well, I can't really confirm or deny—"
"You made me pinky promise," he cuts her off.
She gives him that look with her big brown eyes and he hates how endearing he finds it, even when he is supposed to be irritated.
"I mean, a lot changes in ten weeks, Tim," she replies innocently.
"If they get to hover, then I should get to, too," he argues.
"Yeah, no."
"What—"
"I can get a break from them when I get home," she points out. "I don't get that luxury with you."
His jaw drops in offense.
"Don't get all offended Tim. You know that I love going home with you. Plus, you will have plenty of opportunities to hover once I start maternity leave, and once the baby is here you will have a lifetime to hover over them."
"Aweee," Angela chimes in from a few feet away. "You are getting promoted from helicopter husband to helicopter dad."
"Oh, come on," Tim scoffs.
He glances around the room once again, only to find varying degrees of amusement and agreement written across everyone's faces.
He rolls his eyes, finally giving up as he leans back against the counter. The more he thinks about it, the harder it becomes to fight the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He hears a couple of giggles, but everyone mostly goes back to what they were originally doing. Including Celina, who walked three feet to the water dispenser before filling Lucy's cup and giving it back to her.
Tim and Lucy stand side by side in the kitchen as they both look at all of their friends pick their conversations back up.
He's caught slightly off guard when Lucy begins tugging on his shoulder until he ducks down to her level.
"If it's any consolation," she whispers in his ear, "you are going to make a really hot helicopter dad."
He immediately feels his cheeks begin to burn as he fights to maintain a neutral expression. Lucy giggles as she settles into his side.
I definitely will not be a helicopter dad.
He isn't completely oblivious. He can admit he will probably be somewhat extra attentive to both Lucy and their baby once they arrive.
But, he supposes if that makes him a helicopter dad, or husband, then so be it. He can't bring himself to care when, in a few short weeks, his whole world will be under the same roof.
Screw any pinky promises.
FIN