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Nyla had won the battle.
Both sets of parents were taking turns calming their sleeping children, exhausted but unsettled in the unfamiliar surrounds of Nolan’s guest rooms, but still the TV stayed tuned for Nyla. It wasn’t the football game, but some terrifying Celtic sport, women racing across a grass field, armed with carved sticks, almost zero body protection and a ball so small it might as well have been invisible. Lucy and Nyla had become so invested that Tim had to remove himself from the sofa before they conjured their own sticks out of thin air and used his head for practice.
He instead found himself perusing Nolan’s record collection, the soft jazz currently playing on the turntable soothing but boring, and the whiskey gently flowing through his system suggesting something more in the style of a live country recording. The selection of records was so surprisingly wide-ranging that he almost didn’t notice Angela sloping up beside him until she bumped his elbow and swiped the Jimmie Rodgers album out of his hands.
“In the mood for some ballads, huh?”
“Not particularly.” He nodded to her glass, picking out another record at random. “Not in the mood for Bailey’s wine?”
Angela scowled, flicking the album over and skimming the track list.
“I drew the short straw. Driving all the babies home if the power comes back.”
“Right.” He said nothing more, but she glared at him over her glass anyway, and he smirked into his whiskey.
At this point, he’d been around pregnant cops long enough to recognise the signs, particularly in the breakroom: consistent supplies of decaf coffee, unusual varieties of dips in the fridge, and large boxes of Tums stashed in every spare shelf and cupboard. The last clue was Angela turning down Nolan’s wine when Nyla was also not drinking, and making bad excuses to cover for it.
But it wasn’t his secret, and if she needed time, he’d give it to her.
“Work go late at the courts tonight?”
Angela started digging through the records, elbowing him out of her way as she replaced the Jimmie Rodgers and began flicking through the cardboard covers. He smothered a weary sigh.
“Not really. It’s pretty consistent.” Sip of whiskey to disguise the boredom. “Just making the most of the A/C at the station. Plus, I can leave earlier tomorrow if I cross off a few extra files today.”
Having found something that appealed to her, Angela slipped the record out of the cover, again shoving Tim out of her way as she moved to replace the jazz on the turntable.
“Well, it’s doing something for you. You’ve got a whole new pep in your step.”
Afraid he’d say something incriminating, he turned a grimace into a smile, covering with another drink from his glass.
“Maybe it’s all the extra sleep you’re getting,” she added.
Awkward pause.
“How’s Kojo dealing with the heat?” She didn’t look at him, flipping the glossy record over in her hands as she decided which side to play.
“He’s in daycare. They’ve got a generator and they’re running an overnight special until the power comes back.” At last, something innocuous to talk about.
“Poor little guy.” Angela sympathised.
“‘Poor little guy’? He’s better off than I am! Costs as much to keep him there as it does to stay at the Four Seasons.”
She snorted at him, replacing the jazz and finally dropping the needle onto the new record. Some vaguely recognisable 80s band began clamouring through the speakers with the distinctive drum reverb and slap bass of the decade, melodramatic romance lyrics accompanied by high-pitched analogue synth.
“The things we do for someone we love, huh?” She turned to him with her fists on her hips and a smirk on her lips. He swallowed.
“I…guess?” He glanced quickly out at the room, but Angela blocked him, stepping into his space and punching him softly on the arm.
“I’m not talking about the dog, dummy.”
“Well... I…” he stuttered lamely, before shaking his head and glowering down at her. “Then what are you implying?”
“Same thing as last time, Pinky,” she answered swiftly, leaning in closer and lowering her voice. “You and Lucy.”
Two shivers went through him suddenly - one warm and happy, the other thrilled and jittery. He hadn’t heard anyone link her name to him like that before, and that it was one of the few people he was most eager to tell was sending little pings of excitement throughout his system.
He swallowed nervously, an uncontrolled smile tugging at the corners of his lips and his eyebrows rising in unambiguous surrender to her implication.
Angela’s face changed too - her narrowed eyes widening and the knowing smirk dropping into a little gasp of surprise.
“Wait,” she whispered, grabbing his arm, “You… you’re- seriously?!” She bounced on the balls of her feet, waggling the glass in his hand precariously. “This is amazing! I knew it, I knew it! When did you- wait, what- no, tell me-”
He interrupted her with a shushing motion, jutting his jaw out at the crowded room behind her.
“We haven’t really told anyone yet, okay? Just… just give it some time.” He was grinning now, his eyes catching the sparkle of Lucy’s ring across the room as she ran her fingers through her hair.
“Fine. Fine.” Angela acquiesced with a theatrical sigh. “I won’t say anything. Yet.” She took a gulp from her water glass, clinking it against Tim’s whiskey along the way. “But you and I are going out for drinks ASAP, and you’re gonna tell me everything.”
Tim rolled his eyes at her, turning back to the record collection and making room for Angela to lean in beside him, flicking contentedly through the discs together.
***
“Hurling.”
“Not hockey?”
“Not hockey. But again, this one is camogie.”
“Not hurling?”
“Ugh.” Nyla dropped her head wearily onto the back of the couch. “Can’t you just watch it and appreciate the skill?”
Lucy grinned, tapping her ring against her glass of tequila, and turning her attention back to the game on the TV.
“And there’s really nowhere to see it live in LA?”
“Not that I know of. My girlfriend plays down in San Diego. I’ll link you up with her if you wanna check it out sometime.”
“Mmm. That could be nice. Weekend road trip.” Lucy’s mind wandered from the game on the screen to a sunny drive along the coast, winding roads beside the ocean, salt breeze in her hair, and her hand laced across the console with Tim’s, his smile bright and his skin warm against her own.
She had clearly daydreamed too loudly, because when she clicked back into the present, Nyla was gazing over at her, a knowing smirk pinching the dimples in her cheeks.
“Chen. I’d never have reckoned you for a sports fan.”
Lucy could feel the heat rising along her neck, and she covered it with a dip of her head and a sip from her glass.
“I’m cultured! Besides, it turns out I might have some Irish ancestry back along the way…”
“Mm-hmm,” murmured Nyla, evidently not buying it. “Don’t we all.” She sat up straighter and tipped her glass towards the other side of the room, where Tim and Angela were huddled together over Nolan’s record player. “And it’s got nothing at all to do with Bradford’s sudden change of career, or your urgent need to get him back into the thick of things, huh?”
“No!” Lucy answered quickly - far too quickly. She blinked and bit her lip, dropping her eyes cagily to the coffee table in front of them, leaving down her glass and shuffling through the magazines for something to do with her hands.
“Girl.” She could feel Nyla’s eyes boring into the back of her head, and she sighed, taking a minute to compose herself before turning to look over her shoulder. “What makes you think you could ever get away with lying to me?”
Nyla spoke with humour, but there was truth in it too. Not only was she essentially Lucy’s UC mentor, but she was one of the most perceptive detectives Lucy had ever met, and the facts that she had pointed out about them weren’t exactly the paragon of subtlety.
“...Okay.” Lucy whispered at last. Nyla leaned forward, raising her eyebrows and opening her mouth, and Lucy grabbed her wrist hurriedly to silence her. “Okay, but shhh!”
“I’m ‘shh’, I’m sat!” Nyla argued, gesturing vigorously with her free hand. “Now spill!”
“Well-” Lucy stopped, suddenly stumped, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “We’re… together. We have been for a while. We just wanted…I guess we just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit. See how things would play out.”
“Right,” agreed Nyla, nodding wisely. “And given the game of Career Switcheroo we’ve been playing here tonight, I take it things are going well?”
“Oh my god!” Lucy groaned, gripping Nyla’s arm tightly. “It is amazing, Nyla! I don’t know why it took me so long to realise it, but…” she trailed off, running a hand through her hair as she smiled earnestly at Harper.
“You’re happy,” finished Nyla, chuckling and placing her hand on top of Lucy’s. “And clearly, so is he.” She leaned in close, knocking her forehead lightly against Lucy’s. “I’m really glad for you, you know? Both of you. You deserve this.”
Lucy didn’t think it was possible, but she felt her grin grow even wider, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ at Nyla through her smile.
“Now.” Nyla pulled back, leaving her drink down on the table and rubbing her hands together pragmatically. She glanced quickly across the room at Tim, then leaned in close to Lucy, lowering her voice to a whisper. “This Fuji retirement situation? I think I have an idea…”
***
Unexpected though it had been, it had turned into quite a pleasant evening, and Nolan happily saluted Nyla and James as they swapped out with Wesley for baby-soothing duty.
Wesley sidled up to Angela, who was still guarding the record collection and humming softly to herself. He slipped his arms around his wife’s waist, pulling her into a gentle sway along to the rhythm of the music. Angela smiled up at him, pecking him quickly on the lips before tucking her head under his chin and squeezing herself tightly against him.
“Aww… they really are super cute together,” Bailey murmured at his side. “I’m glad things are finally working out for them.”
“Me too.” Nolan agreed, circling his own arm around Bailey’s waist. “Between La Fiera and Elijah - not to mention everything in between - they’ve had it pretty rough.”
Bailey frowned up at him, confused. “Wait, Elijah’s after them now too?”
“Well… yeah?” Nolan paused to think, making sure he had the details straight. “Yeah. Since Wesley cut a deal with him to save Angela - you remember that?”
They both looked over at the couple dancing at the record player, swaying slowly in time with the music, then Bailey snorted loudly.
“I’m not talking about Angela and Wesley!” she laughed, poking him in the ribs. “I’m talking about them. Cuddled up on the couch.”
She tipped her head towards the sofa, the channels on the TV scrolling quickly through a variety of sporting fixtures as Lucy jabbed the remote mercilessly at the screen and Tim tried and failed to pull it from her hands.
Nolan pulled a face. “What, Tim and Lucy? No. No they’re just…”
As he watched, Tim finally got hold of the remote, pulling both it and Lucy into his chest, where she wheezed out a soft chuckle, punching him lightly in the stomach, before curling her feet up under her and nestling comfortably into his side. Tim swapped the remote into his other hand, reaching his free arm across the back of the couch and trailing his fingers down along Lucy’s back and through her loose hair.
“... Honey?”
Bailey tapped him gently under his chin, and Nolan realised that his jaw had fallen completely open in utter astonishment, and he clamped it shut with a snap, shaking himself out of his stupor.
“Wait, you really didn’t see that coming?” Bailey was gazing up at him, half amused, half concerned, her eyebrows all but forming a question mark on her face.
“I… I-I…” Nolan stammered, bewildered. “I honestly thought they didn’t even like each other! Tim used to be such an asshole to her, and Lucy did nothing but complain about him all the time. How has this happened?!”
“Oh, honey.” Bailey gave him a look of resigned compassion, pouting at his obvious naivety. “Even since I first met them, he’s always put her before everyone else; and she’s had him completely wrapped around her little finger.”
“How did I miss this?” he asked, still reeling. Bailey sighed heavily.
“Let’s just say your interpersonal skills lie in empathy and communication rather than gossip, hmm?” she suggested, turning his head away from the living room and back to face her. “And focus on a relationship you do know about?”
“Okay… Okay.” Still somewhat shaken, Nolan looked down at his girlfriend - his fiancée, he corrected himself - and decided that if anyone could take his mind off his failings as an off-duty detective, it was Bailey.
“Okay. But if anyone else in this group starts dating, give me a heads up before they start making out on my couch? Please?”
Bailey chuckled in amusement, and pulled him in for a kiss.
***
“What are you doing?” Tim grumbled, shuffling distractedly in his seat.
“Getting myself comfortable!” Lucy said, digging her fingers further behind his back and into the cushions.
“It feels like you’re trying to give me spinal surgery - again. And I would know.” Tim glowered at her, the way his arm tightened around her shoulder belying his surliness. “Can’t you just settle down and watch the game?”
“I was watching the game - you changed the channel,” she argued, her fingers finally finding the edges of the post-it notes she’d been searching for behind him.
“That was a battle, not a game. And it was over.” Tim corrected her, pointing the remote at the screen for emphasis.
“Well, it was a lot more interesting than watching overly-padded men racing towards another ad break,” she countered.
“Trust Nyla to finally lure you into sports - but only something niche and obscure.”
Having finally tucked the last of the stray post-its securely into her back pocket, Lucy curled her arm around Tim’s back, tickling her fingers against the base of his neck, his hair prickling pleasantly against her fingertips.
She settled against him comfortably, the TV droning on in the background in a buzz of light and colour. The air was cool and his body was warm, and gentle strains of light Latin rumba drifting across from the record player lulled her into a cosy state of drowsiness.
“Hey.” Tim shook her gently, his lips brushing against her forehead. “You wanna get out of here? Go home?”
Lucy blinked sleepily, murmuring into his shoulder, “Power’s not back yet, I’ve set a notification. We’ll have no light.”
Tim grinned, raising his eyebrows playfully. “I happen to know someone who has about three hundred candles. We’ll have plenty of light.”
“Oh yeah?” Lucy was more alert now, sitting up straighter and running her fingers along his chest. “And what about the heat? How are we gonna stay cool?”
Tim shrugged. “I was thinking of picking up a bag of ice-cubes along the way. I have a few ideas.”
His mischievous grin set off a flurry of butterflies in her tummy, and before she could think twice about it, Lucy had stood, pulling him up off the couch with her and grabbing her duffel bag from beside the record player.
Angela and Wesley stopped dancing to watch them, Wesley politely bemused and Angela with a sly smirk spreading across her face.
“Where’s the fire, Chen?”
“No fire,” Lucy answered airily, “We’re just gonna call it a night.” She grabbed Angela’s hand, pulling her into a sideways hug and whispering into her ear, “Thanks for the assist.”
Angela nodded, silently sliding the crumpled post-its from Lucy’s hand into her own pocket. “No problem.” She grinned at Tim over Lucy’s shoulder. “You two have a good night.”
Tim scowled back at her, marching towards the door and yanking it open briskly as Lucy bade a hurried farewell to Nolan and Bailey.
She threw her bag into the backseat and started the engine quickly, and within three minutes they were on the open road and racing towards Elmhurst Drive and her apartment. The night was still hot, but Lucy knew the heat tingling along her skin had almost nothing to do with the temperature of the sweltering air, and everything to do with the man in the truck ahead of her.
And even as part of her schemed and plotted to clear a path for him from courts to metro, the rest of her shivered in anticipation of yet another night together with him.
Because regardless of where he ended up in the LAPD, she was fast coming to realise that the one place she knew she always wanted him to be was right.
by.
her.
side.