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lovesick

Summary:

3 times that Tim holds Lucy's hair as she throws up.

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“Luce, are you okay in there?” he asks calmly, following a couple of soft knocks.

“Ye-” she tries to assure, but her voice is cut off by another hurl.

Notes:

based off of an incredibly weird dream i had last night ?

TW if u have emetophobia this probably won't be a fun read...

Work Text:

1— 

“Can I have another tequila?” Lucy Chen slurs, holding out her glass for the bartender, pointing to the lack of alcohol inside. 

“Are you sure about that? It would be like, your fifth one…” the bartender, an exhausted graduate student from a nearby university, asks, his annoyance clear as he takes the empty glass from Lucy.

“Listen,” she says softly, leaning across the counter towards the poor bartender. “2 years ago, I failed the Detective’s Exam for no good reason. I’ve been stuck on patrol, wearing myself down for the last twenty four months. So forgive me if I want to celebrate the fact that I just scored third. Third place. In the whole division. Got it?” The bartender nervously shakes his head, terrified of Lucy’s fixed gaze upon him. Worried that the woman will jump over the counter and attack him if she doesn’t have alcohol in the next minute, he quickly turns around and focuses all of his attention into Lucy’s drink.

Before she can realize, she’s handed a full glass of tequila, and balance is restored in her world.

“You’re scaring people, Chen,” Aaron remarks jokingly, leaning back in his seat. 

“That’s Detective Chen to you, sir,” Lucy retorts before taking a swing at her drink.

“You know, I kinda like Scary Lucy. Pregame before every interrogation and I bet she’d have confessions in a matter of minutes,” Lopez announces. She herself was a little bit more than tipsy from the celebrations, because Lucy making detective meant she had a new partner in crime (or law, technically.)

“You’re a terrible influence,” Tim scoffs, turning a shoulder to her best friend.

“Oh, don’t be such a hard ass, your girlfriend just placed third . If I remember correctly, that’s better than you did on the Sergeants exam…” 

And Tim couldn’t argue with that, so he shut up. But he didn’t mind, because he was proud. He remembers how knocked down she had been two years ago, how she felt that it was the end of the world. So, he didn’t mind if she wanted to get a little - or a lotta - drunk tonight, because she deserved it. 

“Let’s go out for a drink,” quickly turned into the entire team taking turns buying rounds, and almost everyone was practically too drunk to function by the time the tabs were all closed out.

“If any of you so much as leave a spec of dirt in my truck, you’re fired,” Tim instructs as Aaron, Celina, Angela, and Lucy climb into his car. Being one of the only ones sober enough to drive, he had been tasked with the burden of getting them home safely, which wouldn’t be an easy task. 

“So basically, holler if you need to vomit,” Lucy adds as she gets comfortable in the passenger seat, which has practically molded to her body at this point.

“Or, just don’t need to vomit,” Tim mutters under his breath, and Lucy giggles.

“Buckle up,” he whispers protectively, and she nods affirmatively. But for some reason, her fingers just can’t grasp the metal buckle in the correct way, and it refuses to lock with the plastic. Of course, without hesitation, Tim reaches over and easily locks in the belt without a second thought. 

“Thank you, babyyyyy,” Lucy slurs, running her hand down the sleeve of Tim’s henley. 

 

After what feels like the longest forty-five minutes of their lives, Lucy and Tim make it back to Tim’s house, his truck thankfully in perfect condition. 

Lucy immediately makes a beeline for the bathroom, the alcohol pressing extra-hard on her bladder. But when he goes to check up on her ten-minutes later, he hears the sound of her retching into the toilet. His first instinct is to rush inside and check on her, but he finds the bathroom door locked. 

“Luce, are you okay in there?” he asks calmly, following a couple of soft knocks.

“Ye-” she tries to assure, but her voice is cut off by another hurl. It’s quick, and he hears the toilet flush over her coughing. “I think I had a bit too much to drink.”

Tim laughs silently. “Yeah? I didn’t really notice. Can I get you some water?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’m good,” she says confidently. He hears her close the lid of the toilet, and the door swings open seconds later. She hasn’t rid her system just quite yet, because she practically stumbles right into Tim’s arms.

“Woah there,” he says as he lifts her back onto her feet. “Why don’t we just…” He gently hoists her up onto the bed, kissing her forehead as he lays her down.

“I’m gonna get you some water.” She nods as he leaves the room, and even though he’s gone for about all of thirty seconds, the urge to throw up comes back stronger, and she’s running to the bathroom before he can even return.

“Oh lord,” he sighs as he follows her, crouching down behind her as she vomits uncontrollably into the toilet. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he says repeatedly while rubbing her back. Each time she sticks her head into the toilet bowl, he gathers her hair into a ponytail and holds it, his other hand making circular motions along her back. 

They stay like that for almost an hour, Lucy’s stomach barely holding up as she tries to gulp down water in between.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly once she finally has a moment to breathe.

“For what?”

“For getting so drunk that you have to hold my hair at 2 a.m. I’m an adult, I should know my limits.”

The embarrassment lining her tone hurts Tim’s heart a little bit; he’d do anything for her, no matter how gross, and she should know that.

“Hey, I know that you know your limits. So what, you were celebrating a huge win and got a little carried away, what’s the big deal? I’m happy to sit beside you here, no matter how long,” he smiles, and it’s genuine. After years of learning social clues and being able to pick apart body language, there isn’t a doubt in her mind that he means it. She wonders how she got so lucky to be loved by him.

“Thank you, I love you,” she whispers, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. 

“Anytime, Lucy. Anytime.”

 

2— 

“This all looks amazing,” Lucy gasps as her eyes trail down the menu of a small Italian place in Miami. Between Metro and Detective hours, they hadn’t had much off time recently, so they decided to request a couple of days off and get far away from Los Angeles. Florida was about as far as they were able to get without a huge hassle.

“I think I’m just gonna go for pizza,” Tim shrugs, not even having looked at the menu.

“You know, one day I’m going to get rid of Control Freak Timothy Bradford,” Lucy huffs. Tim had quite the hand in his own kitchen, but when it came to outside food he tended to be pretty bland. Lucy, on the other hand, dragged him to every unique pop-up shop or bakery in a 10-mile radius.

“What do you have against pizza?” Tim defends, and his girlfriend just shakes her head. 

“Piazza's fine, but there’s so many good options!” she squeals. She ends up ordering an elaborate chicken pasta, and taunts Tim throughout the entire meal. 

Though, she’s quickly reminded that karma’s a bitch, because she’s uncontrollably vomiting all of the pasta up in the middle of the night.

It’s relentless, and it gets to the point where her body is throwing up nothing. Tim feels his own insides knot together as she gags over the toilet, her stomach contracting painfully every few minutes. He hates to see her in so much pain, but he has refrained from running to get medication out of the fear of leaving her alone.

“I am never eating a meal in Miami again,” she cries, resting her head in between her legs as she rocks back and forth, trying to subside the nausea. 

“I know, baby,” Tim says softly, running his hands through her knotted up hair.

“I feel terrible, I’m ruining your entire vacation.”

“Hey, you’re not ruining anything. You didn’t ask for food poisoning. Plus, you are way more important than any vacation, okay?”

Lucy nods. “I’m never ordering anything unique ever again. This is what I get for making fun of you,” she groans as the nausea returns in full force, sending her hunching back over the toilet. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Tim repeats quietly until she curls back down, resting her head into his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m like… a blob of disgustingness.”

“Well, you’re my blob of disgustingness,” he smiles as he embraces her.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” Lucy asks as she pulls away, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been told once, maybe twice,” Tim shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Alright,” Lucy rolls her eyes. And for the first time in hours, she doesn’t feel her insides churning and flipping until they're unrecognizable. 

“I think I’m gonna try taking a shower,” she announces, standing up and brushing her hands against her sweatpants. 

“Can I join,” Tim smirks, and Lucy is taken by surprise. 

“Seriously? I just spent the entire night puking my guts out, and you still wanna shower with me?” 

“I mean, if you don’t want me t-” he begins, but she eagerly cuts him off.

“N- no! Come join!”

And she welcomes the butterflies back into her stomach, because she’ll never not be nervous around him. Every single day she feels even more loved by him, if that’s even possible anymore.

 

3— 

“Does this taste funny to you at all?” Lucy asks as she picks at the food in front of her, her plate still full. It was their wedding night, and between the ceremony, pictures, and reception, they’d forgotten to eat all day. They had been looking forward to the reception food, which they had catered from Lucy’s favorite restaurant, but now that it's right in front of her, she can barely stomach it.

Every bite was more of a challenge, and she suddenly finds herself resisting the urge to throw up whatever she had managed to eat.

“Tastes fine to me,” Tim responds with a mouthful, practically shoving the sushi down his throat.

“Oh well, maybe I guess it’s just me. It’s probably fine,” Lucy mumbles disappointedly. She was starving, but she knew that if she took another bite, it would all come back up her throat, and she had plans for her wedding night (plans that did NOT include clutching the rim of the hotel toilet). 

She tries to subtly push it away and move on, but Tim catches her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just- don’t feel the best right now,” she shrugs.

“What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?” Tim asks immediately, but she holds her hand out.

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s been a long day, and my body is probably just tired. I’m okay, I promise,” she smiles. “Now, let’s get on the dance floor before the party ends!”

At first, the nausea subsides, and Lucy is jamming out to her favorite 2000’s hits. But after about twenty minutes, it’s back. And this type of nausea is different; she can tell that it’s not from alcohol or food poisoning. It’s a slow pain, and she can feel it creeping in further with every passing moment. Just before it becomes too much to bear, she excuses herself and runs to the nearest bathroom.

In true detective fashion, Angela follows after her to make sure everything is alright. It’s not, because Lucy doesn’t even have enough time to lock the bathroom stall before she’s throwing up the four bites of food she had.

“Woah, Lucy,” Angela gasps. She bends down next to her friend and holds her perfectly curled hair back as she continues to hurl. 

“Did the food taste funny to you? I think it’s the food,” Lucy says once the round has finished. 

“Um, the food was fine. Nobody else feels sick…” Angela explains as Lucy gargles some water in her mouth. The uneasiness is still there, but she knows that the entire herd will come after her if she’s MIA from her own wedding for too long. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“A glass of champagne? But I didn’t finish it, I just felt weird,” Lucy sighs.

“Lucy, is there any chance that you could be pregnant?” Angela asks quietly, but she’s got a huge smirk on her face.

“WHAT?” Lucy practically screams. “No! No, there’s no way! We’re careful! I’m on birth control and we always use protection. There’s no way.”

Angela nods, trusting her friend's confidence, but Lucy’s face falls almost immediately.

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit?” Angela repeats, sounding way too excited.

“There was that time a couple of months ago where-” Lucy explains, but her friend cuts her off.

“You know what, I actually don’t need to know details. But oh, Lucy!”

“No no, this isn’t a good thing! I can’t- we’re not ready!” Lucy begins to hyperventilate as her mind spirals. 

“Hey, breathe, it’s going to be okay. I’ll go get Tim. And a pregnancy test,” she winks and whisks away before Lucy can protest. 

Despite the fact that she’s in the women’s restroom, Tim comes bustling in two minutes later.

“Lucy? Is everything okay? Angela said that there’s an emergency!” he calls out anxiously, and Lucy steps out from one of the stalls.

“Hi, everything’s okay. Don’t freak out, but I have to tell you something.” And that probably wasn’t the right way to start the conversation, because he’s definitely freaking out more now.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong… technically. But, um, I just feel kinda… sick, and I realized that I’ve been uneasy for a couple of days.” Tim nods, but he doesn’t really understand what this means, other than Lucy might be coming down with the stomach bug. “Tim, I might be pregnant.”

Oh. This is not exactly how he expected his wedding night to go, but he stays calm - on the outside at least.

“Oh, I- how?” 

“Last month, when we…” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said.”

He isn’t really sure what to do next, because they had a timeline. They wanted to travel and build their home before having a child, and it was a lot to process. But luckily, he doesn’t have to respond, because Angela comes bustling back in with two pregnancy tests in her hand.

“Here ya go! Good luck, lovebirds,” she says sweetly before leaving the newlyweds alone.

Lucy’s heart is beating out of her chest as she tears open the cardboard boxes and pulls out the plastic sticks. Without saying a word, she pees on both of them and sets them on the counter.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Tim says as they anxiously watch the loading signs. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“Yeah, yeah we are. We always are.”

They stand awkwardly for the whole two minutes, their hearts stopping once the digital tests begin to blink. Lucy slowly steps forward and picks them up, covering the screens with her thumb. The words behind her finger could change her life forever, and she’s not ready for that. But she doesn’t really have a choice, so she pulls away, revealing the results.

Pregnant. 

She sets it aside and picks up the second test.

Pregnant.

“It’s positive,” she says, the words blurring as her eyes fill up with tears. Suddenly, all of her fears and worries have washed away, and she’s imagining the world with a mini-Bradford running around. “We’re having a baby.”

Tim wraps his arms around her, his own eyes watering as they stare down at the positive pregnancy tests.

“This is really happening,” he whispers, and all she can do is nod. He goes to kiss her head, but she suddenly pulls away and runs into the nearest stall. She retches continuously for five minutes straight, and Tim is right beside her, holding her hair and rubbing her back.

“I would apologize for moving our celebration to the hotel bathroom, but this time it’s fifty-percent your fault,” Lucy utters as she wipes her mouth with the rough toilet paper.

“I mean, in sickness and in health, right?”

“Yeah, always.”




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