Work Text:
Broken bottles shine just like stars
Make a wish anyway
Just your smile lit a sixty-watt bulb in my house
That was darkened for days
Been thinking you probably should stay
💡🏠💛💙💡🏠💛💙💡🏠💛💙💡🏠💛💙💡🏠💛💙💡🏠💛💙💡🏠💛💙
When Lucy’s eyes open, the world is still shrouded in pre-dawn light.
Wisps of golden and pink light filter from the blinds, and it takes her a moment to recollect where she is.
The grey sheets are soft to the touch, and she has never felt warmer.
As she blinks the sleep away, she notices how deeply Tim is still sleeping, his breaths deep and even, his features relaxed and slack. One of his arms is lazily leaning against her hip, the weight grounding, as the other bends near his head. She is snuggled into the crook of his body, and she basks in the moment, grateful that they’ve rekindled their romance as her day off rolled around.
She shifts her knee, the tendon aching painfully, a reminder of how close she almost got to being shot yesterday.
She’ll never forget the sheer panic Tim was projecting after he appeared right as she lowered her long gun. For a moment, she had felt the same panic and the same disappointment: right as they had finally talked, the last thing she wanted was to get shot.
An achy knee is definitely a good trade-off.
Lucy takes a deep breath as her whole body wakes up fully, reveling in the warmth of Tim, knowing this is something she hasn’t let herself enjoy for Valentine’s Day or for April Fool’s, when every kiss and every touch was stolen, hurried, almost forbidden.
Now they have the rest of their lives to wake up tangled in his sheets.
Their sheets.
Their bedroom.
Their house.
If Tim weren’t asleep, she would squeal and fist-pump in the air, but she allows her inner Lucy to do that instead.
She lets Tim rest, pressing a soft kiss to his bare chest, the lure of his warm body almost tempting her to wake him up. It’s a rare treat to be up before Mr. Five-O’Clock, but her night shifts have sent her sleep schedule to a whack.
Also, she knows they’ll have many more mornings like this one, where they can actually enjoy each other much longer because Tim doesn’t need to go in to work. Maybe they can figure out how to sync their schedules now that they’ll need to disclose their relationship to HR once again.
She takes a deep breath and slides carefully out of bed before she can spiral too long and wake Tim up with her million swirling thoughts.
They have time to spiral.
Lucy picks out his blue LAPD t-shirt from the floor, inhaling the scent of his laundry soap and his body wash. Her hands tremble when she finds her panties in the same drawer they used to be, all neatly folded in a triangle like Tim usually does.
She wears both things, the t-shirt reaching mid-thigh, so she foregoes shorts. She’s going to need a shower very soon, anyway. First, though, she wants to put on some coffee and make Tim breakfast, since he’s the one who needs to leave for work first.
As soon as she clicks the bedroom door shut, she hears the familiar clicking of Kojo’s nails on the floor. The dog comes slowly from his dog bed in the living room, his stubby tail wagging and his legs stretching every few steps.
“Hello, my best boy,” she murmurs, bending to scratch him between his ears and his butt. Kojo wriggles happily, nuzzling her belly with joy. “I’ve missed cuddling with you every morning,” she adds, kissing his head. “But I’m not leaving again. I’m here to stay,” she says, her voice breathy, still filled with awe.
She still can’t believe this is her new home.
Lucy walks into the living room and opens the blinds to let the light in from the garden, and then lifts the ones in the kitchen, the sky a beautiful watercolor of oranges, pinks, and blues, the light still muted and hazy.
It all feels like a dream.
Except she knows from now on she's going to wake up in this house every day.
The quiet surprises her, but it's a welcome respite from the construction near her apartment that has plagued her mornings. She can practically hear herself breathe in here.
She grins when she spots the moka coffee maker on the stove, a clear sign Tim has needed an extra caffeine boost these mornings.
The ground coffee is still ready in the same jar, with the same odd spoon that doesn't belong to his silverware set, though she has never asked about its history.
Making coffee at Tim's house is a ritual she's quick to recall, her lips turning up in a smile when Kojo flops on her feet and traps her in front of the kitchen island, his body warm and solid, and begging for breakfast.
Lucy looks at the schedule and sighs in relief when she sees that today is a kibble kind of morning. Kojo is very picky about his salmon, and it's one of the few things Kojo always begs Tim for instead of her.
She refills Kojo’s water as the coffee brews, pouring the kibble her next task.
Lucy finds a brand-new box of her favorite sugary cereal in the pantry. When she checks the fridge for non-dairy milk and finds it, she almost wants to cry.
How long had Tim planned to ask her to move in?
Longer than she thinks for sure.
She decides to wait for Tim to share her cereal with him, pouring herself the coffee and the milk in her favorite mug, which is still on the same shelf of his cupboards, and it looks untouched.
Lucy stands in front of the window as the day wakes up, contentment and bliss enveloping her like the warmest of blankets, this day already feeling like a dream, the steam of her coffee wafting up from her cup into nothingness.
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For once after a rough day, Tim doesn’t startle himself awake after a nightmare.
Usually, after he’s had quite a scare like what happened with Lucy yesterday, his brain can’t help but conjure up all the worst-case scenarios during his sleep, and he inevitably ends up waking up sweaty and shaky after a nightmare.
This morning, waking up feels peaceful, and he can smell Lucy on his sheets.
He reaches out, the sheets feeling slightly warm to the touch, but Lucy’s body is nowhere to be found.
Is this Kojo’s fault? The dog sometimes sneaks into his bed when he’s having a particularly rough night to keep him company. But Kojo is also MIA, and usually, he smells anything but floral.
Was it all a dream?
Lucy bathed in beautiful sunlight, her eager yesses to moving in with him, their new beginning…Did he dream it all?
He opens his eyes and, while Lucy is not physically there, he can see traces of her all around the bedroom. Her bra is hanging on his armchair askew, her socks are strewn near his on the floor at the end of the bed, and there’s an extra glass of water on the other bedside table, her bedside table, her favorite glass. The tall, pale green glass, a remnant of a Christmas past, where Austin had stuck in a few homemade cookies and had given it to him as a present. Lucy loves it because it’s wide and tall, and it can hold all of her favorite liquids. He hadn’t used it since the last time she had visited his house.
But now it’s there, so maybe he hadn’t dreamed all of yesterday.
He takes a deep breath and goes to find his t-shirt, a smile curling up his lips when he finds it missing. If his t-shirt is gone, then Lucy is probably still in the house.
Quickly, he grabs sweatpants and his slippers, pulling a clean t-shirt over his bare chest as the morning chill bites his skin. The bite marks on his abs are further proof that Lucy moving in wasn’t a dream.
He shuffles to the living room, and his breath catches. For a moment, he can only stare.
Lucy is really here.
He can only see her back, her shoulders curled up, her hands cradling a cup of coffee, if the smell is anything to go by. Her hair is pinned up in a messy bun, the t-shirt reaching her mid-thigh, and something primal stirs in him when he reads “Bradford” printed on the back of his LAPD-issued shirt.
A shiver of delight runs down his spine at the knowledge that they’ll need to discuss last names too at some point, not just baby names.
Tim quietly moves closer, drawn by her beauty, but not willing to disturb her. She’s haloed in morning light, her whole body loose, her features softened by the yellows and oranges.
He comes to stand behind her, close enough that he can feel her body heat, before he leans down and gently grabs her lips.
Lucy startles slightly, pulled out of her reverie with the softest “Oh!”, but then she relaxes immediately into his touch.
Tim presses a kiss on the dip of her neck, right under her tattoo, and she melts into him, her shoulders pressing into his chest while she gives him more room to kiss up, following the tendons there until he reaches her cheek.
He leans his face against hers, his eyes going to the backyard where she’s watching Kojo zoom around.
“Morning,” he huffs, his voice a bit croaky from lack of use.
Lucy’s smile is blinding when she returns the greeting.
“I sent our puppy outside because he kept yapping and I didn’t want you to wake up,” Lucy adds, her features soft as she curls around his embrace, cupping his cheek, then leaning in for the softest kiss.
It’s quick, lips meeting lips, a familiar gesture that feels foreign, yet reclaimed.
Every kiss has felt different since their reunion – deeper, won over, recovered, a testament to everything they have overcome as a single person, and everything they can potentially become together.
He’s mesmerized by Lucy’s beautiful features. It feels like he’s seeing her anew, and maybe he had forgotten what a happy, carefree Lucy looked like.
She’s different from the doe-eyed, eager rookie of their first six months together, softer and brighter than post-Caleb, but she looks even different than their first relationship. There were still taboo topics when they first got together, secrets and professional boundaries that feel flimsier now that they’re doing this again.
There’s a very different level of awareness of each other and their respective emotions now, a growth that had separated them but that also made them stronger.
His life had seemed darker, duller, more boring without her presence, but now it’s like she’s bringing him back into a new light. A soft, gentle, twinkling light like this morning is displaying, but also like her smile.
Sometimes people say that their partner can light up a room, and that is even truer for Lucy, because everywhere she goes, the world feels less heavy. She has always had that effect on him, even when he was all wrapped up in his failing marriage and his war demons. Now her light is back in full force, a bright lightbulb in the middle of this house and Mid-Wilshire, and wherever she goes.
“He’s your dog, of course he yaps,” he teases, winning an even wider smile.
His heart somersaults.
“Rude,” she groans, but lets go of her coffee cup and leans into the crook of his neck, resting her cheek over his heart, her hand on his chest.
“I’m just being honest. Communicating my feelings.”
She giggles again, slapping his chest playfully and so softly it could be a caress. Their eyes meet and he gets lost in the flecks of yellow and brown and green he finds there, how her smile makes him want to kiss the apple of her cheeks and then her mouth and then hold her close until there’s something better to do.
Life goes on, he knows there’s a shift he needs to prepare for, but he has zero intention of moving from here, from this loose embrace and their foreheads touching.
“You’ll be the yapper in this relationship, I’m telling you,” she murmurs, chuckling, her teasing tone warming up his heart.
“Well, until we have kids. Then they’ll be the yappers. Look at Emmy and Jack, those two inherited the Lopez nosy, yapping gene for sure, and I hope our kids take after you,” he confesses, the dream feeling so close after so long.
Lucy huffs, but she doesn’t scare away; she snuggles closer to him instead, meeting his eyes once more, and they’re shimmering with emotions. She opens her mouth, ready to talk, but then she promptly closes it, swallowing thickly.
She leans up for a kiss instead, this one longer and deeper, but still soft. She tastes like caffeine and her lactose-free milk, and he can’t help the smile that forms against his lips when she pulls away.
“I never thought we’d get to this point again, Tim,” she murmurs, fidgeting with his t-shirt, drawing haphazard patterns there. “Imagining our future.”
“I spent my mornings off doing just this, you know?” he admits, his voice lowering, thickening, but he wants to get the words out, knowing she needs his honesty.
“Drinking coffee here, watching Kojo in the backyard?” she completes for him, a small smile curling up her lips. He nods.
“I’d imagine a little girl chasing him barefoot, with your wild hair and your laugh, and the house would feel less dark, less empty,” he says. “Then I remembered why that was not my reality, our reality, and I knew I only had myself to blame.”
“No,” Lucy says, her voice firm. “Not just yourself. I kept you at arm’s length, too. I had my own share of healing to do,” Lucy says, cupping his cheek, her thumb running soft circles against his stubble. “But we’re here now.”
He breathes in, then out.
“We’re here now.”
The moment stretches, the light from outside getting brighter until Kojo’s paws scratch at the back door, making Lucy smile and shake her head.
“I’ll get him,” she hums, pressing the quickest kiss to his lips before she goes and frees their needy dog from the backyard, where he’ll promptly beg to go back to after breakfast.
“You know,” she says, crouching down to scratch Kojo’s butt, her twinkling eyes betraying the conversational tone. “I always imagine our little girls having your kind eyes,” she says, then she adds, “You’d be the most perfect Girl Dad,” undoing him. “Right, Kojo?” she continues, her voice the perfect high pitch that makes their dog melt near her. “Your dad is such a softie, isn’t he?”
Of course Kojo barks in agreement, but Tim wouldn’t have it any other way.
He knows Lucy and Kojo will always gang up on him, and he’ll have to make peace with it if he wants to keep his sanity.
Yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way, not if it means he can keep Lucy’s luminous, beautiful smile brightening up every room of this house, their home.