Work Text:
“The National Weather System is urging all Los Angeles County residents to shelter in place. Do not leave your place of shelter outside of emergency. We urge citizens to exercise caution, avoid downed power lines…”
Lucy’s lips curled against her teeth as she tightened her hand around the steering wheel of her tiny sedan.
The last time it snowed in LA County was before she had been born.
Short of a few stints in college away on holiday breaks, she’d never driven in snow. She was nervous, antsy, at the prospect of having to serve and protect while doing her best to keep four tires on pavement.
She grimaced, her knuckles white as she held her steering wheel tighter, when the car in front of her slid towards oncoming traffic before over correcting and driving up and over the curb.
Lucy slowed her car, her eyes flashing into her rear view mirror to make sure her relatively slow stop hadn’t caught another driver off guard.
“You okay?” She called out after her window lowered. “Do you need help?”
“Nah! Just not used to this weather. Crazy, huh?” The driver shouted back as he stepped out of his car to evaluate his situation. “Global warming where?”
Lucy pulled the flesh of her lower lip between her teeth and felt her eyes crinkle in an attempt to figuratively bite her tongue. “Okay. Get home safely.”
“Oh, gonna go to the dispensary—“
Lucy’s window rose before she could listen to the rest of his sentence.
“The National Weather System is urging all Los Angeles County residents to shelter…”
Tim’s brows furrowed as he thumbed through the pile of reports the night Watch Commander had left for him: 87 accidents in twelve hours; 7 fatalities, 23 hospitalizations and over four hundred thousand dollars in city property damage.
In twelve hours.
He left the folders to the side and pulled up the computer’s docket of who was on shift for his watch. He knew he’d be covering his patrol by the skin of his teeth. Comp time and PTO made the holiday season stressful enough as it is, and adding in a freak blizzard on Christmas Eve?
He’d be lucky if every one of his officers made it through shift unscathed.
Lucy .
His fingers twitched over the cursor of the mouse before he continued his scroll.
Not enough patrol officers to double up everyone.
Shit.
He sighed, pressing his thumb and middle finger to his eyes, rubbing away the tension and dread.
He never should have readily agreed to cover Watch for Grey while he went to the city—but he’d blown up his own life, his own family and the rebuilding of the ruins of his life were slow going; brick by brick to relay the foundation he’d taken a jackhammer to.
And so the least he could do was cover for Grey. Tim felt indebted for only getting bounced from Metro and not a demotion.
Tim supposed he could ask a few detectives to ride with his officers just for the extra manpower on the streets—
“Hey, Bradford, got a minute?”
Tim’s eyes flashed away from the computer screen. “Yeah, a minute.” He said, gesturing to the chair in front of his temporary desk.
Angela crossed into the room and perched on the arm of the chair. “Look, I’ve got a lead on one of the cases I’ve been working. I know the holiday has you strapped, but I was hoping I could grab a uniform to chase it.”
Tim’s jaw clenched, and he fell back into the chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “I am strapped, Lopez.” He grumbled. “Night shift had a shit show, I’ve got a freak blizzard to deal with, Christmas Eve day—“
“I get it, I get it.” She said, slapping her palms over her jeans. “Hopefully it’s still a solid lead after Christmas—“
“Take Chen.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain had a moment to reconcile the thought. “Take Chen.” He said again. “Chase the lead.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. She’ll have your six.”
“Thanks. Send her my way after roll call.”
“Yup.” He nodded, feeling his eyes tighten at the corners.
Lucy’s skin felt like ice. She shivered as she changed out of her civvies and pulled on thermals that had lived in the bottom of her dresser drawer since an ill fated attempt at skiing in college.
“Crazy weather, right?”
Lucy grimaced as she jumped into her wool trousers, the fabric a bit harder to pull on over her underlayer. “Yeah.” She agreed, buckling her belt. “How bad was it last night, Leann?”
The older officer grimaced as she shook her hair free of her bun. “Wouldn’t wanna move somewhere it does this every year. I’ll take the earthquakes.”
“Great,” Lucy groaned as she buttoned her uniform top, “Get home safe.”
“Thanks. Watch your six, Chen.”
Lucy pulled her winter jacket from the locker, smoothing out the light wrinkles from being abandoned to its metal closet.
She smiled her hellos to officers she passed in the hallway on her way to roll call. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays followed by thank you and get home safe’s as night shift bade her good luck.
She wished she’d taken Celina up on joining her in Colorado for the holidays but had wanted to save comp time for another occasion. She had no family around, her mother and aunt having traveled to China to see their family, her father still not speaking to her. Not even Tamara, who had saved enough money to go somewhere warm er with her college friends, the first vacation she’d ever gotten to go on.
And Tim… was Tim.
Not hers to have anymore.
Her lips pursed as the glass room came into her vision, the sparse amount of officers dotting the tables serving to make her even more agitated than she already was. She moved to sit at the seat she’d claimed as hers long ago, smiling tightly as Nolan joined her at the table, his boot in tow.
“Get in okay?” He asked as he pulled the chair out beside her.
“Only a few near misses. You?”
“Oh yeah, no worries. This is just a dusting.”
Lucy scoffed, her eyes rolling. “For the Midwest, sure, a dusting. This is California.”
“Pennsylvania is not the Midwest!” He grumbled, offended. “I’m from north of Pittsburgh—“
“—Which is basically Ohio. Midwest.”
“You know what? I’m not going to make you scrapple—“
“Thank god.” Lucy laughed, her fingers tugging down the wristband of her jacket. “I’ve suffered through enough of Tamara’s ClipTalk recipes,” she said, her fingers air quoting, “that if I never eat anything that has dubious—“
“Morning,” Tim said brusquely, cutting off the words from Lucy’s sentence. “No orange slices today. This shift is going to be brutal. We’re strapped, there’s a freak blizzard, it’s Christmas Eve day.
“Ridley, you’re riding with Smitty today—“
“As long as he’s not like the jinx.” Smitty interjected, jabbing his thumb towards Nolan. “Had to up my dose of heart medication—“
Tim’s eyes rolled, his focus zeroing in on Smitty mid sentence before continuing on, “—Webb, Not enough uniforms for the division so you’ll be riding Lincoln. Nolan, take Penn today. Remember, stock your shop—extra gear, emergency supplies, rations, road flares.”
Lucy’s eyes were locked on his hands as he shuffled the reports on the podium.
“In our division alone, night shift recorded 87 accidents; 5 DOA, 2 en route to Shaw. Drive slow, be aware of your surroundings at all times. I want regular check-ins for the next twelve hours. Roll out.”
Lucy stood, smoothing her jacket down and pressed her hand against Nolan’s elbow. “Drive safe.”
“Thanks. Have a safe shift.”
Lucy pushed her chair in with her hip and moved towards the back door of the room.
“Chen, hang back.”
She faltered mid stride, glancing up at Nolan as he made his way out ahead of her. She pulled the flesh of her chest between her teeth and turned slowly.
Tim stood still, his folder of reports clasped tightly in his hand. “Yes, sir?”
Lucy watched the muscle tick in his jaw, his eyes tightening at the formality. “Chen— Lucy— “ He started, his brows furrowing. “I—I just wanted…” His free hand moved to rub away the lines on his forehead. “You get in okay?”
“Did I…?” Lucy tilted her head at him, her mouth frowning. “Yeah… yeah. Um, you? Did you…?”
“Yeah, yeah. All good.”
“Okay. Great. I’m going to—“
“Actually—about that. Lopez needs help with a lead on a case.” He said quickly, taking a step closer to her, closing a bit of the distance that lingered between them.
“Oh. Oh!” She let out a small laugh. “Great. Happy to help, sir— Tim—“
“Great, okay. Great.” His lips pursed and she watched as he glanced towards the glass wall connected to the bullpen, a scowl immediately taking over his face. “Extra provisions. Kit up.”
Lucy turned to follow his gaze and felt her own scowl washing over her features; Smitty stood, his backside propped against a desk, a cup of coffee in one hand and a donut in the other, watching them through the glass.
When Smitty noticed that he’d caught the ire of both officers, he shrugged his shoulders and around a mouthful of half chewed Boston Cream donut, a muffled sorry passed through the glass.
“I’m going to—“ Lucy said, jabbing her thumb backwards towards the door.
“Yeah, me too.” Tim agreed, nodding his head towards the door closest to Smitty. “Check-ins—twenty minutes.”
“Got it.”
“Smitty!” Tim called once he had stepped out of the roll call room.
Smitty was walking somewhat quickly towards the kit room, faster than Tim ever recalled. “Yeah, Sarge?” He asked over his shoulder.
“You should be getting your boot and rolling out—not eating donuts and loitering.”
“I was only eating the one donut.” Tim’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing further. “Alright, alright. I’m going, I’m going.”
Tim stood for a moment, watching Smitty head towards the sally port before turning to catch Lucy at Lopez’s desk, an excited smile playing over her mouth.
Today was going to suck but at least she’d get a little detective action.
Tim had neither enjoyed or hated being acting Watch Commander, having only done it a handful of times since his promotion to sergeant, and more often since he was bounced from Metro. He knew that Grey was preparing Tim to take over his position; knew that Grey was in promotion rounds to become Lieutenant.
And Tim, admittedly, was excited to regain the trust back of the man he’d admired, and the higher Brass. He’d fumbled, his own doing, and accountability for previous actions was one of the good things London had had to say that had resonated with him.
He dropped down into the WC chair and set his folders down on the desk before he pressed the spacebar to reactivate the computer.
He felt stupid sitting in a warm building while his officers were out risking their lives in a more immediate way than usual. He’d get through the paperwork that needed immediate attention before grabbing a shop and heading out.
A rap at the door broke him of his concentration and he glanced up, Angela standing there with a bemused look on her face.
“Thanks for letting me take Lucy,” She said, propping her hip against the doorframe. “Another perfect flying tackle. Took right off after him when he rabbited.”
Tim’s mouth turned upwards, his eyes subconsciously looking for her in the bullpen, quickly zeroing in on the back of her head. “In the snow? Impressive.”
“She’s receptive, you know.”
“What?” He asked quickly, his eyes flashing back to Angela. “I don’t know—“
“You’re good at a lot of things, Bradford, but lying isn’t one of them.”
In another lifetime, Tim remembered saying almost verbatim the same sentence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Angela’s mouth pursed before she glanced over her shoulder, looking in Lucy’s direction. “You have less work to do than you think you do.” She turned back to him, notching her shoulder to her ear quickly. “Thanks again. And Patrice says Christmas ham is at 2:30. Don’t be late.” She pushed away from the doorframe and backed out of the office. “Hell, you could even bring someone.”
Tim scoffed at her as she made her way back towards her desk, stopping to speak to Lucy quickly before moving onwards.
He frowned as he looked back to the paperwork on the desk in front of him before slipping it into the desk drawer and engaging the lock. He stood quickly, grabbing his jacket from the hook and making his way into the bullpen.
“Chen,” he called as he leveled to the desk she was sitting at. “I’m going to roll out with you when you’re done. Shop need anything?”
“Uh… no. No.” She mumbled, glancing up at him through her lashes. “Are you sure? You might get called—“
“I’m sure. Grabbing my bodycam and I’ll meet you in the shop.”
He sidestepped a few detectives on their way deeper into the station, and stopped to grab the bodycam that had been his since the city approved funding.
“Sarge,” Smitty said, dawdling up beside him, “That Ridley kid might be worse than Nolan.”
“Yeah?” Tim hummed, clipping his cam to his uniform. “Write it up.”
“Nah.” Smitty shrugged. “Not my problem tomorrow.”
Tim’s face dropped in surprise as he watched Smitty walk away from him. “What?”
Smitty threw his hands up over his head as he entered the bullpen. “Not my problem, Sarge.”
Lucy rounded the corner while he was still in the throes of his exasperation with Smitty. “What's that look?”
His hand snapped towards the bullpen. “Smitty.” He groaned, his eyes finding the ceiling as he fought to find his patience. Taking a deep breath, he looked back to her. “Ready?”
She nodded, her lips pursing as she fished the keys from her jacket, their arms meeting in the middle in an unspoken conversation that he’d take over driving. His hand hovered over her back as he followed her to the sally port before easily overtaking her in his stride and pulling the door to the garage open.
“After you,” He said quietly, using the hand that held the shop keys to gesture her forward.
“Thanks.”
Settling into the shop with her felt familiar and foreign; thrilling and like nothing had ever changed. “You good?” He asked as he turned the engine over.
“Ready to go.” She confirmed, her seatbelt locked into place. “Have you driven in the snow before?”
Tim nodded, watching the garage door open behind him as he backed up, the sunlight breaking through the flurry of snow.
“Not a lot, but some.” He said quietly, his eyes furrowing as he gained his bearings as he drove away from the station. “Isabel’s family is from Buffalo. We’d, uh, we’d visit around this time of year when we could get enough time off.”
“That must have been nice.” Lucy hummed. “Do you miss them?”
Tim’s shoulders raised slightly, a gush of breath escaping from his lungs. “Yeah. It was nice—feeling like I was part of a family.”
“Hey, no. Don’t do that.” She chided, her hand reaching out to tap his thigh before stopping short. “You have a family. You are part of a family.”
His tongue darted from between his lips, a nervous tick while he took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm.” She replied, her eyes flashing from his mouth to the streets. “There’s a lot of black ice under the snow. It’s been crazy.”
They were mostly quiet, the companionable camaraderie that had encompassed them previously only slightly stilted. Tim relished the feeling of driving in the shop with Lucy, as awkward as he felt, he’d missed just sitting in silence with her.
“So, uh, what are your plans for tomorrow?” Tim asked as he came to a stop at a flashing red light, the weather having incapacitated a good amount of the traffic lights.
“Oh.” Lucy tried to hold back the grimace. “I don’t have any plans besides binge watching the holiday baking shows and ordering take out.”
“What?” His foot pressed a bit too hard on the gas pedal, the tires rolling against the snow on the pavement and spinning out. “Sorry. What? Lucy, you shouldn’t be alone—“
Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing at the street in front of them. “It wasn’t my choice to be alone.”
Tim knew what it felt like to be shot with bullets, to be stabbed by a knife, but the tone of her voice felt like a grenade had been thrown into his heart. His blood whooshed in his ears, his chest throbbing uncomfortably.
“Lucy…” He said quietly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Look, I’m—I’m sorry. I—“
“Don’t, okay? Just don’t.”
“No, look, I need to—“
“7-Adam-100, come in.”
Tim’s eyes snapped to the radio as Lucy grabbed it, annoyed that dispatch had chosen that moment to radio.
“7-Adam-100, copy.”
“7-Adam-100, we have a supervisor request from 7-Adam-07. Reports of shots fired at their location, 99, code 2.”
“Copy that. Show us en route.”
Tim’s foot pressed against the gas purposefully this time; the unsettling feeling of all four tires coasting above the snow filled streets reverberating in his chest.
“I never wanted you to be alone.” He said tightly. “You deserved better. I want you to have better.”
“All I wanted was you.” She snapped. “Look, I don’t want to do this right—“
“No, okay? No. We’re here. We need to talk about this—“
“Now you want to talk? Okay. Great. You stuck by Isabel through everything she did to you—addiction, cheating, everything. You were willing to support Rachel, stay with her through the potential illness she may have—considered moving across the country for her. You were going to stay with Ashley even though she didn’t want to get married or have kids.” Lucy sniffed, her hands balling tightly into fists. “But the second things got hard for you, you sabotaged everything we were building.
'It’s like you have a self destructing martyr complex, Tim. And I don’t get it.”
Tim’s lungs felt like they couldn’t function once his breath escaped him. His brows furrowed and his eyes darted back and forth through the windshield, before he turned to look at her quickly. “You’re right.”
Lucy scoffed, her head turning to stare out of the passenger window. “I know.”
He cleared his throat, his head rolling on his shoulders before he looked to her, willing her to catch his eye. “I don’t mean to do it—“
“Tim! Stop! Stop, stop!”
Lucy’s shout startled him, his eyes snapping to her sudden movement of pointing: a SUV careening through the intersection, speeding, unable to stop and barreling into the passenger side of the shop.
Up was down, down was up, and Tim felt the glass of shattered windows slicing his face as the moment impact reverberated through the shop. All he could hear was the crunch of metal on metal, the muffled sound of the pavement under snow, Lucy’s short scream, of surprise or pain he couldn’t be sure, and the sound of airbags deploying.
The seatbelt tightened against his chest, cutting tightly into the flesh of his neck as they came to a stop against the front wall of a bakery, the SUV pinning the shop to the building.
It took what felt like minutes to gain his bearings, taking stock of how his body felt. He moved slowly, no twinge of pain in his back, no ache in his neck. “Are you okay?” He asked, pressing the release of his seatbelt. “Lucy?”
Lucy sat still in the passenger seat, glass littering her hair, her mouth open in shock, and small beads of blood pooling from the cuts on her cheeks and temple.
“Lucy,” Tim said again, a bit more urgently. His fingers tightened into a fist before he reached to her, his hand curling around hers on her thigh.
She turned her head towards him slowly, gingerly, her hand trembling under his. “I think… I think I’m okay. Are you okay?”
He nodded slowly, curling his hand tighter over hers. “Radio dispatch. I’m going to go check on the driver.”
“Okay.”
He squeezed her hand again before releasing it. His door was pinned against the building and with a grunt he hoisted himself onto his knees in his seat and used his elbow to break away the rest of the windshield.
He slid down the hood and onto the snowy sidewalk, brushing errant glass off his jacket and pants as he made his way to the driver’s side of the SUV. He scowled when he saw the door wide open, the front seat empty and turned furiously to catch sight of someone running down the cross street.
“Chen! Runner! Stay with the shop!” He shouted before taking off.
Tim was furious. The amount of paperwork, the aches he knew his body would have tomorrow. The snow crunched under his feet as he ran, catching glimpses of red in the snow flurries in front of him.
His lungs burned from the exertion of running in the cold air, the snow and cold turning his cheeks red. He slid a bit, his boots not quite equipped to be running in accumulated snow.
“LAPD!” He shouted as he gained on the suspect. “Police! Stop running!”
He watched him dart down a side street and was quickly following, his hand darting out to grip the corner of the building as he took the turn sharply. “LAPD! Stop!” He shouted again when the suspect began to scale a fence.
Tim put the weight of his frustrations into his legs, propelling himself forward and grabbing the back of the suspect’s coat, pulling him off of the fence and onto the ground.
“Oomph! Get off me! Get off! I didn’t do anything!”
His face was pressed against the snow as Tim straddled his back, forcing his arms behind his back to cuff him. “You’re under arrest—“
“Mom! Mom! Santa is getting arrested!”
Tim looked up, his eyes scanning the buildings surrounding him until he made eye contact with a young girl, hanging halfway through a window, her face red and angry from crying.
Tim’s eyes widened, comically, he was sure, and looked away from the girl and back down to the man he was arresting. Red coat with white fur, a hat that had fallen off when Tim had pulled him off the fence lay on the snow, the pompom wet and dirty from slush.
Shit.
“Santa didn’t do anything!” The girl hollered down at him. ”Let him go!”
“Yeah, I didn’t do anything, man!”
“Shut up.” Tim hissed, clambering off of him and pulling him to his feet.
“Mom!” The girl sobbed from the window, and Tim grumbled when a woman came to the window. “Santa!”
“Oh.” She said, surprised. “Uh…” Tim grimaced slightly as he heard the chime of a video starting.
“Jesus.” He grumbled under his breath, dipping to grab Santa’s hat from the ground and stuffing it into his pocket. “Let’s go.”
Tim pushed him forward, starting the walk back towards the larger street from which they ran from. His ears were red, both from cold and fucking embarrassment that there was going to be a video of him arresting Santa Claus going online, he was sure.
Great. Just great. Like being an officer wasn’t hard enough, now he’d be the cop that arrested Santa on Christmas Eve.
Spending the late hours of Christmas Eve in the emergency room felt like a right of passage. Tim and Lucy had been lucky enough to have no severe injuries, just bruises and cuts that just needed a thorough cleaning. No concussions, no broken bones.
“I’m going to order an Uber.”
“Absolutely not.” He grunted, typing on his phone. “We’re not getting in a car driven by some kid home from college on Christmas break.”
Tim watched her eyes roll from the corner of his own, before placing his phone in his pocket. “Nolan is coming.”
“What?” Lucy asked in surprise. “You texted Nolan?”
He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “He knows how to drive in the snow.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Tim. You can’t just—“
“It’s done. Okay? He’s already on his way.” He turned slightly in the waiting room chair, his back already beginning to ache. “So…”
“So…” She parroted.
“You were right. Earlier.” He told her quietly.
“About?” Lucy asked, an eyebrow quirking up.
“Everything.” He shrugged slightly, doing his best to hide a wince. “I don’t— didn’t— trust it when someone is willing to fight for me. I’ve lived my whole life ready to fight for other people. It’s a foreign feeling that I struggle to understand when people want to fight for me.”
“Mmm,” she nodded, staring forward at the nurses behind the desk.
“London, sociopath aside, really helped me with some shit.” He swallowed roughly, his nostrils flaring with a deep breath. “Mostly that I don’t have to deprive myself of joy.”
“True.”
“I’m working on it, Lucy, I swear. I want to… I want to be better for me so I can be better for you.” His arms dropped away from his chest and rubbed his palms anxiously over his thighs.
Lucy pressed her hand against his spine, rubbing against the wool of his shirt in a smoothing motion. “I want that, too.” She told him quietly.
“Today could have been so much worse.” He breathed, relaxing against her hand.
“But it wasn’t. It wasn’t. We’re okay, you arrested Santa—“
“Jesus,” he groaned, low and deep in his throat. “That kid’s mom took a video, Lucy. That’s probably all over that stupid ClipTalk.”
“Yeah, about that—“
“Hey, guys!” Nolan said cheerfully as he dawdled in through the automatic doors. “Ready to go?”
Tim and Lucy stood, shrugging their coats back on and waving goodbye to the nurses at their desk. “Thanks for coming.” Lucy said to Nolan. “We could have gotten an Uber.”
“No problem at all, really.” Nolan shrugged. “Hey, Bailey is in the front. She can move to the back if you need the space, Tim.”
“Nah, backseat is fine.” Tim shook his head, pulling the back door open and helping Lucy up and into the truck.
Tim climbed in after her, immediately relaxing into the leather of the seat with a sigh. He spread his legs out slightly so his knees wouldn’t press into the back of the passenger seat, with the added benefit of touching his leg to Lucy’s.
“Sorry to ruin your plans tonight, Bailey.” Lucy frowned slightly, leaning forward to gently touch Bailey’s elbow.
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. Henry and Abigail are just setting up the family board game for when we get home. John is a great driver in the snow, you know.”
“Not better than you, though.” He deflected, pulling away from the hospital.
“Oh?” Lucy inquired, her leg pressing harder against Tim’s.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just used to head up an Avalanche Rescue Squad—no big deal, really. I just got the rescue dogs to where they needed to be.”
Tim’s lips pressed against his teeth as he tried his best to not laugh. “Anything you don’t do, Bailey?”
“She’s constantly surprising me to this day.”
“Ahh.” He hummed.
Tim’s hand dropped to the seat between him and Lucy, his pinky extending from the rest of his fingers. He tilted his head, resting his cheek against his shoulder, glancing at her through his eyelashes.
Lucy tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her own hand falling to the seat, mirroring his hands position, the knuckles of her pinky brushing against his. He took that as consent and linked his finger through hers, hooking them together.
“So, Lucy. Yours first?” Nolan asked, catching her eyes through the rear view mirror.
“Oh, yes. Thank you.” She agreed.
Lucy’s hand moved slightly, her fingers wrapping more fully around his, tapping her index finger against the inside of his wrist. She caught his eye and it was like the months of separation, being out of sync, broken, had vanished.
Come up her gaze told him.
Are you sure? His asked hers.
She nodded slightly, glancing up at her apartment building as it came into view. Her fingers pressed tighter into his skin as Nolan came to a stop beside the lobby door.
“Actually, Nolan,” Tim said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Just here. Thanks for the ride.”
“Oh. Oh. Of course, yes. Um, Merry Christmas.”
“You too. Thanks, guys!” Lucy said as she slid out of the backseat, letting Tim steady her as her feet hit the slushy snow. “Drive safe!”
Tim caught her hand in his again, lacing their fingers together as they walked into the building he hadn’t been back to since her birthday. There were wreaths and small potted spruces, a Menorah ready to be lit scattered through the lobby and it brought a smile to his face.
He hadn’t bothered to decorate his own home since Isabel, including the first Christmas she’d been gone, just in case she decided to come home.
“Festive.” He commented as they waited for the elevator to come back to the ground floor, both in agreement that the stairs weren’t for them tonight.
“It’s been decorated since before Thanksgiving.” She told him. “I think Mrs. Crouch is in charge of decorating. She put up the trees before Halloween and decorated them with bats.”
Tim laughed, the vision of a Halloween Tree filling him with amusement. “Can’t wait to see it next year.”
She smiled shyly as the elevator moved upwards. “Next year?”
He nodded, squeezing her fingers with his. “Yeah. Next year.”
They traversed the hallway to her apartment much the same as they had before, like nothing changed even though everything had. “I, uh, I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.” He said with a frown.
“It’s okay.” She whispered, pressing her access code into the door, the mechanism unlocking. “All I wanted for Christmas was you.”
He closed the door softly behind them, switching the lock into place before reaching for her more fully. His palms curled around her jaw, his fingertips brushing into her hair behind her ears. He dipped his knees, bringing himself to her level.
“Merry Christmas, Lucy.” He said softly, his eyes flickering from hers to her mouth and back again.
“Merry Christmas, Tim.
He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he moved to capture her in a homecoming kiss that set his body and heart aflame.
“You should tell Angela that you’re snowed in.” She whispered when they broke away for a breath.
“I texted her from the hospital.” He said, his lips catching against hers as he spoke. “She responded by sending the video of me arresting Santa.”