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“Lock the door first.”
Her words were hushed, and there was a look of urgency in her eyes, and Tim was helpless to resist. His gaze flickered over her briefly, his lips twitching into a small smile. His own eyes were full of fondness for this woman before him. He turned and engaged the lock to the laundry room. They were alone. The building was quiet. All they could hear was their breathing, distant traffic, and the buzzing electricity between them and from the thrumming washers.
Tim stepped away from the door into the center of the room where Lucy stood, eyes trained on him.
“I… can we just, y’know, have a moment? Before you have to go? I miss you.” Her words were quiet, almost hesitant, but sincere, and they tugged at his heartstrings because God, did he miss her too. He approached her quickly, enveloping her in an embrace that said more than any words in the conversation they had just had.
Yes, Lucy was good to continue the mission, and yes, Tim was okay with it if she was (supposedly), but that didn’t do anything to change the fact that they were both shit-scared and missing the hell out of each other. Getting used to sleeping alone was a Herculean task for the pair of them, and they would be so relieved to see this case closed, but until then, they had this - secret phone calls and messages, and laundry-room meetups just to be together.
Tim’s right hand tenderly carded through Lucy’s, Jamie’s, straight hair while his left rested on her waist, pressing her into him. Lucy’s head was resting against his shoulder, holding onto his jacket like a lifeline as she breathed him in for the first time in however many agonizing days.
Slowly but surely, their hearts calmed, after this period of constant alertness, their hearts beat slowly in tandem, placid when joined as one despite the layers of clothing and flesh between them. Nothing else existed in this moment. It didn’t matter how close they had each come to death a mere half-hour ago - right now it hardly even mattered that they were alive, only that they were together in this damp little room, chest to chest, breathing love into each other as fuel for combatting the quick-approaching solitude they would inevitably feel until this op was over.
They stood there, for just how long neither was sure, but they knew that it was not long enough.
Reluctantly, they pulled back from each other, and Tim cupped Lucy’s face in his hands and kissed her. They had shared so many kisses before, too many to count - some tender and languid in the mornings before work; some hot and fiery as they pushed each other around the bedroom; some hesitant, determined, quick, long. This was a soft ‘see you later’. This kiss held the promise of another.
As they parted, Lucy nodded, comprehending that which he hadn’t put into words, and silently walked over to the door to unlock it. After a moment she held it open for him. He stepped out as slowly as possible, keeping her in his peripheral vision for as long as he could before he had to leave, to walk away. To see Grey. To leave her to pretend to take her laundry out of the dryer as she waited for him to leave so she could safely get back up to the dingy little apartment she was living in, alone.
She wanted to stand outside the door and watch his retreating form until he was out of sight, but she couldn’t. It was already risky enough to steal some minutes alone in the laundry room, in the hopes that nobody else would decide to do their laundry during their rendezvous. A stolen glance was not worth having her cover blown. She sighed, resigned, and picked up the basket on the work surface by the doorway, carrying it up the dank staircase on her hip.