Chapter Text
The only thing Lucy can do is pace. Back and forth. Over and over again.
The repetitive motion is the one thing calming her nerves. Her dress swishes as she moves–the click of her heels cuts through the silence of the room.
She stops at the window overlooking the ceremony. People are still trickling in to take their seats. There’s around seven rows of seats for guests which consisted of new and old friends. Family is a sore subject at this wedding.
Tim’s nephews are chasing Kojo around the grounds of the venue. Genny is talking to some of Lucy’s cousins, the three that bothered to show up. Sore subject.
She looks out at the ocean in the distance, the venue itself is surrounded by lush trees, providing seclusion. The choice of wedding spot was not much of a debate. Lucy wanted it to be outside and Tim wanted whatever Lucy wanted–his only stipulation being that he refused to have it on the beach.
Tim insisted that the last thing he wanted on their wedding day was to have sand in places where sand should not be.
The view drew them both in. It’s picturesque. Lucy takes it in once more–it’s everything she wanted.
She sees Angela outside for the first time this afternoon, which probably means Tim is not too far behind. She ducks her head and turns around before catching an early glimpse of him.
“It’s so unfair that Tim just gets to stand there at the altar while I have to walk down the aisle in these uncomfortable heels and simultaneously attempt to not fall on my ass,” Lucy groans.
Tamara gives her a look suggesting she’s over her antics of the day. “Maybe your shoes would be less uncomfortable if you stop pacing. Seriously Lucy, it’s making me nervous.”
Lucy dramatically falls to the seat in front of the vanity to let Tamara finish her hair.
Tamara had already done so much for the wedding. She handled the food, decor, and basically everything else. This wedding would never have happened without her.
“He’s up there on the altar because no one cares about his boring suit. No one is patiently waiting to see if his tie is black or navy. You and your dress are the main event,” Tamara replies as she starts braiding the front pieces of Lucy’s hair, pinning them down in a half-up half-down style.
Lucy shrugs. “I guess. It’s just–he’s already done this once before and he gets to go first with the vows. From the way he talked about it last night, he’s not nearly as nervous as I am,” she stops. “He’s so annoying.”
“Maybe he acts all stoic, but I promise he’s got more nerves than he lets on. You might have to hurry down the aisle because the moment he sees you, all bets are off Lucy, he’s gonna bawl like a little baby.”
“I’ve only seen him cry a handful of times. The last time was when the Dodgers won the World Series and even that was just a watering of the eyes,” Lucy briefly pauses. “A speechless Tim Bradford would be great though.”
“Trust me, he is so unbelievably obsessed with you that whatever reaction you get will make you love him even more.” Tamara wraps the curling iron around the last piece of untouched hair. It falls gently to frame her face. The rest of the loose curls skim down her back.
“I know you’re nervous, but everything is going to work out, Lucy. Grey can catch you if you trip. Tim is going to love everything about you, the look, the vows–everything. Angela has the rings. The reception is all set.”
Tamara had aced the art of talking Lucy down off the metaphorical ledge, long before she earned the title of maid of honor. “You’re right.”
“Well duh,” Tamara steps back to admire her work. “You look gorgeous Lucy.”
She feels it too. The dress fits in all the right places and flows in the others. The lace of the bodice is made up of intricate floral detailing that extends down past the waist.
The door opens suddenly. “Hey, are you ready to go? I did a headcount and everyone is here,” Celina announces.
There ends up being five spare minutes, according to Tamara’s extensive schedule of the event, for last minute touch-ups and putting jewelry on.
Tamara helps fasten her necklace while Lucy unboxes the earrings her grandmother had given her decades ago. Her mom’s mother had worn them on her own wedding day and longed for Lucy to do the same. She always admired how the gold base paired with the red gemstones.
Weddings were supposed to be family affairs. Other weddings of close family members she attended were events where family was honored. Her oldest cousin had a four hour ceremony, where Lucy saw her family come together in a way she had never seen before.
But things have changed since then.
She chooses not to invite her parents to the wedding, news that gets back to them quickly. Lately, their relationship consisted of Lucy wishing them well at holidays. She hadn’t received an acknowledgement of her birthday in six years–she’s almost certain they don’t know she made sergeant. Their relationship is nonexistent.
Having heard the news, her mother called daily until she finally picked up. Lucy’s met with a fit of rage to tell her how ungrateful she was, no congratulations–only vicious anger that she failed to make the guest list.
Her father sends a letter saying that he was happy for her and how sorry he felt that their relationship had descended into this. He claimed to be sorry, but there was no follow up, no phone call, just a lame letter. No attempt to fix said relationship.
Lucy came to terms with the fact that she owed them nothing, long ago.
She doesn’t feel guilty, but a longing for what could’ve been.
“You have one minute to get out the door or else we are officially off schedule and the wedding will start without us,” Tamara mutters, putting on her own heeled shoes.
Lucy scoffs. “The wedding can’t start without me, as you said–I’m the main event.” She takes one last look at herself and runs after Tamara, her anxiety turning into nervous excitement, the stress of her parents instantly forgotten.
Grey is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, fitted in a new suit.
He hands over her bouquet, made of white and blue flowers. “I think these are for you. You look beautiful, Chen,” he comments, a bright smile paints his face.
“Thank you.”
They linger just briefly. The music outside starts to slow. “That’s my cue,” Tamara whispers. She picks up her own flowers and walks to the doors. “You’ve got this, Lucy. All the worrying will be worth it in just a couple of minutes.”
The doors close behind her. The moment becomes very surreal.
“You ready for this Chen? This is your last chance to get away from Mr. Grumpy out there,” Grey jokes. Soon he’s standing to her right, offering her his arm to hold onto as they get ready to walk.
She feels mild appreciation for his attempt to distract from the looming anticipation. “Yes. And thank you so much for walking me down the aisle. It truly means a lot.” It means everything to her, he had offered to walk her down the aisle before she had the opportunity to ask.
The music outside starts to quiet, signaling that it's time.
“You’re welcome.” The doors in front of them open. “Don’t tell the others, but you’ve always been my favorite.” She giggles in knowing acknowledgement as they take their first steps outside.
Time slows. Lucy pictured this moment a thousand times today–but nothing compares to this. The sheer joy coursing through her veins.
Marrying Tim never felt like a decision–it was always going to be yes, him asking only served as a formality. They both wanted a life together, it had been clear since their first date. Talking about grandkids on a first date would have scared every other man off, but Tim is different. Their relationship had always been different.
From the moment they got together, they both knew that this was it, there would be no one after. It’s something that still rang true while they were broken up.
Lucy believes that she is the one person on this earth who could love him and drive him crazy at the same time.
This time he’s the one driving her crazy because Tim Bradford in a suit is a sight to behold. Always has been, always will be. He’s polished and tailored perfection, the sharp lines of the fit are doing something to her heart.
He’s clean shaven and the afternoon light is hitting him in all the right places. Her almost husband has never looked better.
Tim gives her one of those rare smiles, unbounded by anything else, just pure emotion, when they finally lock eyes. Lucy’s breath hitches in response. When he finally takes all of her in his expression is one of disbelief, like he can’t believe this is finally happening.
One of his hands has a death grip on the other wrist as they rest out in front of him. It’s oddly reminiscent of how he stands when his duty belt is on. This moment is all she’d think of when he’d take up the stance at a scene in the future. A smile finds her face at the thought.
The gaze from the audience is unexpectedly comforting, knowing that all these people were here to celebrate her and Tim.
She and Grey reach their stopping point. Lucy drops her arm and gives him a hug, he whispers a “congrats Lucy” before releasing her.
Tim tries to shake Grey’s hand, but the older man isn’t having it. He grabs his hand and brings him in for a hug. Their boss isn’t one for outright affection, totally catching Tim off guard.
Lucy passes her bouquet to Tamara and finally takes her place in front of Tim.
“You look—wow. Just…,” Tim barely gets out, the words just don’t seem to be flowing. Speechless Tim Bradford: Check. One point for Lucy.
He tries again. “You look…unreal. Absolutely beautiful.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Bradford. Very handsome.”
Should they be whispering to one another right now? Maybe not, but she can’t help it.
He lifts the back of his hand to his eyes. His pristine blue eyes are slightly glazed over. “Tim Bradford, are you crying?”
“No, nope. It’s the salt from the ocean, I think it's in the air and is irritating my eyes a little,” he insists. The defense comes out a little too fast. He further proves her point by looking away. A crying Tim Bradford: Check. One point for Tamara.
“We aren’t even that close to the water Tim,” Lucy says, poking fun at him.
“I guess my eyes are just more sensitive than yours. Nothing we can do to change that now.”
“Sensitive eyes? Not the worst made up excuse, but you should just admit tha–,” she’s cut off by the clearing of Grey’s throat.
“Are you two done?” he questions. It stops them in their tracks, she bites her lip and Tim’s eyes get wide. They both nod. The audience is none the wiser of what’s happening at the altar, but Angela, who stands behind Tim, is holding back a laugh.
It gives Grey the go-ahead to start his officiant speech. "We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Lucy Chen and Tim Bradford. Friends and family from both parties, those from near and far, thank you for joining us today.”
Lucy looks out at the crowd for the first time, recognizing people from the many different periods of her and Tim’s lives. People she knows from college and the academy are spread out in various seats. She sees Tim’s army buddies in the third row and Miles is holding Kojo’s leash in the back.
How Tim’s newest go-fer gets stuck with the job of watching Kojo, Lucy’s not sure. She catches sight of her dog’s adorable wedding attire. He has a bowtie around his collar, something Tim insisted on.
“I think it’s fair to say that this has been a long time coming. I would know because your relationship has caused me numerous headaches and never ending paperwork, so thanks for that,” she and Tim both laugh with the audience.
“Lucy and Tim’s relationship has grown and changed drastically over the years. On a more serious note, it has been beautiful to witness the growth of your friendship and partnership into something so much more. What comes next will be the journey of a lifetime. All that you’ve shared together has led you here, where I must now ask you to declare the commitment you share for one another.” Tim lightly grabs her hands in his–they’re finally getting to the good part.
“Tim, do you take Lucy to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, to be her best friend, and to support her through whatever life may bring?”
“I do,” Tim’s beaming in response. His expression is so bright, it’s blinding–she loves it.
“Lucy, do you take Tim to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, to be his best friend, and to support him through whatever life may bring?”
“I do,” she’s smiling so hard it’s making her cheeks hurt. Tim runs his thumb over the space between her knuckle and engagement ring, something he’d been doing a lot lately.
“Lucy and Tim have decided to tell their story and commitment to each other through their vows. Tim, you’ll go first.”