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“I’ve already forgiven you.”
She blurted it out, the words tumbling over each other, a wide, unguarded smile stretched across her face. Then she stopped short, a pensive look passing over her features, her brow furrowing slightly as if she were genuinely surprised by herself.
“Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “When did that happen?”
“You forgive me?” he asked. His voice came out soft, almost disbelieving, hope threading through it as his heart started pounding wildly in his chest.
She lifted her gaze back to him, eyes bright and sincere.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I forgive you.”
Something in his chest cracked open.
“I want to be with you, Lucy.” For what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour, he blurted out exactly what was on his mind, no hesitation, no qualifiers, no careful phrasing.
Just the truth, spilling out of him unchecked.
Lucy had been doing the same, her usual chatter kicked into overdrive, saying exactly what she felt as soon as it occurred to her.
It was the best he’d felt in years.
“I want to be with you too, Tim.” She didn’t hesitate. “I wanted to marry you.”
She scooted her chair closer, closing the already small space between them. He didn’t even think, just reached for her hand and tugged her closer still, anchoring her to him.
“I wanted to marry you,” he echoed, then corrected himself, the truth pushing insistently to the surface. “I want to marry you. I even have a ring.”
Some distant, barely audible voice in the back of his mind suggested that maybe, just maybe, this was too much. Too fast. Too honest.
He ignored it.
It felt incredible to say it out loud, to finally admit everything he’d been holding back, everything he’d been carrying alone.
“You do?” she exclaimed, eyes widening.
He nodded, his grip tightening around her hand. “I want to marry you. I want you to have my babies…”
Her head started bouncing immediately, nodding with enthusiastic agreement, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. It was the happiest he’d seen her in months, maybe longer. The sight of it made something fierce and protective bloom in his chest. He wanted it to keep going.
He would do anything to keep her this happy.
“Two,” she said decisively, threading her fingers through his. “Or three.”
His eyebrows shot up and a grin spread across his face before he could stop it.
“I already know what their names should be,” she continued, completely earnest. “Travis for a boy, to keep with the T-name. Like his daddy.”
His daddy.
The grin softened, replaced by something quieter, dreamier.
“And for a girl,” he added, lifting her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckle, “Laurel.”
His mind exploded with images he hadn’t let himself linger on in months: Lucy in a wedding dress, walking toward him down an aisle; Lucy laughing as she swatted his hand away, then guiding it back to her swollen belly, urging him to feel the baby move.
Her laugh pulled him out of it.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, smiling at him. “You look so happy.”
“You,” he answered without missing a beat. “Pregnant with my baby.”
Once again, that distant voice screamed at him to stop.
Once again, he didn’t listen.
“Tim,” she sniffled, a tear slipping free and trailing down her cheek. He lifted his hand automatically, wiping it away with his thumb. She leaned into the touch like it was instinct.
“Lucy? Tim?”
A familiar voice cut through the moment like a needle popping a balloon. They both turned toward the sound.
“John?” she called out, already standing, already moving away from him.
And just like that, the world rushed back in.
“No, Lucy…”
He didn’t want her to go, not now, not when they were in the middle of planning their future, naming babies and talking rings like it was the most natural thing in the world. He pushed back from the chair and stood quickly, intent on chasing after her, on pulling her back before reality could intrude.
The door at the far end of the room clanged open with a metallic echo, and John and Celina crashed inside, flashlights slicing through the darkness in wild, jittery beams.
“You found us!” Lucy cried, immediately abandoning Tim and bounding toward them. “Careful! Don’t touch the walls!”
Tim followed more slowly, the expected annoyance at the interruption never materializing. If anything, he felt…light. Happy. Like his chest was too full in the best possible way. He couldn’t even fake irritation if he tried.
“Are you guys okay?” Celina asked as Lucy launched herself into a fierce hug.
“We think we got drugged,” Tim said easily, the words tumbling out without a hint of alarm. Lucy had already moved on, releasing Celina and wrapping John in an equally enthusiastic embrace. “The walls...we should’ve been more careful. But why would drugs be on the walls?”
“Drugged?” John looked down at Lucy, confusion knitting his brow. “Are you guys okay?”
“Sodium pentothal,” Tim continued, that same wide, unrestrained smile stretching across his face. “Truth serum.”
“What?” John looked mildly horrified just as Lucy tightened her grip on him again.
“You’ve always been such a good friend,” Lucy said earnestly, patting his back, “even though you broke up with me too. Just like Tim did.” She pulled back just enough to pout up at him.
John’s head snapped toward Tim so fast his whole body went rigid.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Lucy rushed on cheerfully. “I told him about you right when we started dating. He just laughed. So it’s okay, he’s not going to kill you.”
“You guys dated?” Celina practically shouted, her eyes going impossibly wide. “You and Nolan?”
Lucy nodded, finally releasing John. “When we were rookies.”
Celina's mouth hung open, a small squeak coming out of it, "How did I never sense that?"
"It was for like...a second," Lucy beamed at Tim, "And we've both definitely moved on from it."
“What I don’t get,” Tim said, stepping up beside John and lightly tapping his shoulder with the end of his flashlight, “is how you manage to date so far out of your league. Lucy, Grace, that bomb tech-hell, even Bailey.”
John made a face. “Hey, that’s not, I mean, they just kind of…come to me…”
“It’s the whole nice guy, Midwestern vibe,” Lucy said knowingly.
“I’m from the East Coast!”
Tim just shook his head, amused. “Did you guys come to rescue us or what?”
“Oh. Yes,” Celina said, finally snapping back into cop mode. “We should probably get you guys back to the station.”
“Or maybe the hospital?” John added, still eyeing them warily.
Tim glanced at Lucy, still glowing, still smiling like the world was nothing but possibilities, and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said easily. “Probably a good idea.”
Celina walked out first, Nolan right behind her, with Tim and Lucy trailing a few steps back. Once they were clear of the building, Celina glanced over her shoulder...and froze.
They were holding hands.
Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face, but before she could say anything Nolan lifted his radio.
“Yeah,” he said, glancing between them, “they were drugged. What should we do?”
“Take them to the hospital for a blood test,” Grey’s voice crackled through the radio, “and if they’re okay, bring them back here.”
Easier said than done.
Getting Tim to agree to ride in the back of a squad car turned into a whole ordeal. He planted his feet, arms crossed, jaw set, and flat-out refused. It wasn’t until Nolan threatened to call an ambulance that Tim finally relented, muttering under his breath as he folded himself into the back seat.
“He loves me,” Lucy sighed dreamily as Celina guided her into the squad car beside him. “He wants to marry me. Have babies together.”
Celina winced. “Um…maybe we should take this off you.” She reached down and twisted Lucy’s body cam loose, then straightened and motioned urgently for Nolan to do the same.
“Don’t touch me, Nolan,” Tim growled from the other side of the car.
“Uh...your body cam,” Nolan said, trying again. “It’s probably been recording this whole time.”
Tim swatted his hand away, then reached down himself, ripping the cam free and shoving it into Nolan’s chest.
“Lucy’s mine,” he said firmly. “She always has been.”
John looked flustered. Celina bit back a laugh.
“Look,” Nolan said carefully, “Lucy’s just my friend.”
“That’s right,” Tim shot back. “You better remember that.”
“I’m married now!” Nolan protested.
Tim just gave him a look, one that said irrelevant, before finally settling back against the seat.
As Nolan pulled the car into gear, he glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “You know, maybe you guys should try to stay quiet until the meds wear off.”
“No,” Lucy said immediately, scooting closer to Tim.
“It’s probably better for you,” Celina added.
“No.”
Tim chuckled, nuzzling into Lucy’s hair. “That’s what I told her. But you know Lucy, she’s never quiet.”
“Never,” Lucy echoed.
A sly grin crossed Tim’s face, "Never."
Both Nolan and Celina groaned in unison.
“How far is the hospital from here?” Celina asked, already bracing herself.
“About twenty minutes,” Nolan replied.
Lucy brightened. “A lot can be said in twenty minutes.”
“Let’s try to keep them on safe topics,” Nolan said, and then he and Celina exchanged a look as they realized the back seat had gone suspiciously silent.
Celina twisted around and immediately yelped, snapping back to face the front.
“Oh my god,” she cried. “They’re making out!”
She turned again, pointing at them. “Stop it!”
“I don’t want to,” Lucy pouted. “I forgave him.”
“But you two aren’t together,” Celina insisted, “and he outranks you.”
At that, Tim dropped his hands from Lucy’s face and let out a dramatic groan.
“Ugh. She’s right. I messed everything up. I’m in your chain of command.”
They both launched into overlapping complaints, talking over each other as they lamented how unfair it was, how impossible it all was, how much they wanted each other anyway.
Nolan and Celina exchanged one more look.
Then Nolan reached over and cranked up the radio, mercifully drowning them out.
The hospital visit was quick. A simple blood test, a brief once-over from the doctor, and they were cleared to leave, armed only with discharge papers and instructions to keep an eye on them until the drugs wore off.
“And how long will that take?” Celina asked, watching Lucy swing her legs from the edge of the bed, humming softly to herself.
“A few hours,” the doctor replied. “Just keep them hydrated, maybe get some food in them. I’ll call once the blood test results come back.” He handed the paperwork to Celina and John and gave the pair on the beds a wary look. “And…try to keep them calm.”
The ride back to the station was mercifully short. Still, Tim and Lucy gravitated toward each other like magnets the moment the doors closed, their lips locking in a series of loud, unapologetically sloppy kisses.
“I don’t know if my eyes will ever recover from this,” Celina moaned, staring resolutely out the windshield.
“They’re going to have a lot to unpack after this,” Nolan muttered as he pulled to a stop and opened Tim’s door, then thought better of it and stepped back.
“If they remember any of it,” Celina said, already shepherding Lucy out of the car and steering both of them toward the station entrance with practiced efficiency.
Inside, she immediately veered them away from the main floor, heading straight for the break room.
“Hey! We heard something on the radio. What’s going on?”
Nyla and Angela rounded the corner, taking in the scene in one sweeping glance: Lucy practically glowing, Tim smiling like he’d just won the lottery, both of them standing far too close for coworkers.
“Oh my god,” Nyla said, recoiling slightly. “What’s wrong with his face?”
“God forbid a guy smile,” Tim shot back, attempting a scowl, and failing spectacularly.
“That’s not a smile,” Nyla replied flatly. “That’s…something else.”
“They were drugged-” Celina began.
“With truth serum,” Lucy finished cheerfully, stepping forward with her arms wide. “Have I ever told you how much I admire you both? Like, truly. You’re legends. Absolute rock stars. I want to be like you when I grow up, except I don’t get to be a detective.”
She pouted, lower lip trembling just enough to sell it.
Angela blinked. Nyla slowly turned to Nolan and Celina.
“Truth serum?”
“Among other things,” Celina sighed. “Look, can you two watch them for a minute while I grab water and snacks? I need to find somewhere they can hang out until this wears off.”
“I’ve got it,” Angela said smoothly, placing a hand on each of their shoulders and steering them down the hallway. A Cheshire-cat smile spread across her face. “We’ll take them somewhere…quiet.”
Lucy leaned into Tim as they walked, whispering something that made him grin even wider.
Angela’s smile deepened.
“Perfect,” she murmured. “This should be fun.”
Angela guided them into Tim’s old Metro office and shut the door behind them with a decisive click.
“Okay,” she said briskly, backing toward the door, “You two sit. Stay. Do not wander.”
Lucy saluted her enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am.”
Tim laughed, a soft, unguarded sound that still felt unfamiliar in his own ears and let Lucy pull him toward the desk chair. She didn’t sit in it so much as on him, sideways, her legs draped over his lap like that was the most natural thing in the world.
Angela paused, one hand still on the door.
“…I’m just going to be right outside,” she said slowly.
“Take your time,” Lucy chirped.
Angela stepped into the hallway and gently pulled the door almost closed, leaving it cracked just enough that she could hear voices inside. She leaned back against the wall, arms crossing, expression curious but unsurprised.
Inside the office, Tim rested his forehead against Lucy’s, his hands warm and steady at her waist.
“This is dangerous,” he murmured, even as his thumbs traced absent-minded circles into her skin.
Lucy hummed. “You say that like you’re not enjoying it.”
“I am,” he admitted instantly. “That’s the problem.”
She leaned back just enough to look at him, really look at him, her expression suddenly serious in that way that always knocked the wind out of him.
“You know why I forgave you so fast?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Because you never stopped loving me,” she said simply. “You just got scared.”
Tim swallowed. “Lucy-”
“No,” she interrupted gently, pressing a finger to his lips. “Let me finish. I know you think you failed me. That you ruined us. But you didn’t.” Her voice wobbled just a little. “You leaving hurt. A lot. But it hurt because what we had mattered. Because you mattered.”
His grip tightened on her, like he was afraid she might disappear if he loosened it.
“I don’t need perfect,” she continued softly. “I need honest. I need open communication. I need you. Even when you’re grumpy and shut down and think you don’t deserve good things.”
He let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a laugh and a sob all at once. “I don’t deserve you.”
She smiled, that bright, devastating smile. “Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”
In the hallway, Angela’s lips curved upward. She stared at the door like it was the best show she’d seen all week.
Inside, Lucy rested her forehead against Tim’s chest, her voice quieter now, almost shy.
“I meant what I said earlier,” she whispered. “About wanting a future. Even if it’s complicated. Even if it takes time. I don’t care how long it takes; I just want it to be with you.”
Tim closed his eyes.
“I'll remember everything,” he said hoarsely. “Even if this wears off tomorrow, I’m not forgetting this.”
Lucy blinked. “You promise?”
“I swear,” he said. “On my life.”
Outside, Angela nodded to herself, eyes shining just a bit.
“About damn time,” she murmured, pushing off the wall.
She straightened, slipped back into detective mode, and walked away before they noticed she’d been there at all, already planning exactly how she was going to make sure they got through the messy part without screwing it up.
The crash came quietly.
Not all at once, no dramatic snap, but in subtle shifts. Lucy’s head grew heavy against Tim’s chest. The bright, buzzing certainty that had filled the room began to dull at the edges, like someone slowly turning down the volume.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
“…Why are we in your old Metro office?” she asked, frowning.
Tim stiffened.
That was new.
Her grip on his shirt loosened and she shifted, suddenly aware of how close they were. Too close. Her cheeks flushed as she slid off his lap and stood, smoothing her shirt like it had personally betrayed her.
“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Did I...was I sitting on you?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Oh my god.”
He stood too quickly, knocking the chair back a few inches. “It’s fine. You were drugged.”
“I know I was drugged,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I just...” She paused, eyes flicking up to his face. “…Why are you smiling?”
He froze.
Because he couldn’t stop.
Because even as the fog crept back in, the warmth didn’t leave. The memory of her voice, I want a future with you, was still etched somewhere deep and immovable.
“I’m not smiling,” he lied, schooling his face back into a hard scowl.
Lucy squinted at him and then her expression softened. “You are. It’s…nice.”
Before he could respond, the door opened.
Angela stepped in, expression carefully neutral, professional to the bone.
“There you are,” she said. “Grey wants to see you both.”
Lucy straightened instantly. “Did I say anything embarrassing?”
Angela tilted her head, considering. Then she smiled, small and knowing.
“Nothing you can’t survive.”
Tim shot her a look.
She met it evenly, one eyebrow lifting. I heard everything.
Lucy groaned. “I definitely said something.”
“You were honest,” Angela said, pointedly. “That’s not a crime.”
Lucy glanced at Tim, something unspoken passing between them. The air felt different now, heavier and more cautious, but not cold.
Grey didn’t waste any time.
“You two were exposed to a controlled substance during an active investigation,” he said, arms crossed. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucy said.
“Yes, sir,” Tim echoed, sighing in relief.
Grey’s gaze sharpened, moving between them. “Which means anything captured on your body cams and said while you were impaired will not be held against you, professionally at least. Am I clear?”
Tim hesitated, just a fraction.
Lucy felt it.
“Clear,” she said quickly, still feeling extremely unsettled, "But sir, do we get to see that footage?"
"At some point, maybe...if you want to."
Tim swallowed hard and they both nodded.
Grey sat back down at his desk. "Go home. Both of you. Separately.”
Outside the office, the silence stretched.
Lucy tucked her hands into her jacket pockets. “So…that was weird.”
Tim huffed out a breath. “Yeah.”
Another pause.
“I don’t remember everything,” she admitted. “Just…feelings. Big ones.”
He nodded. “Same.”
She looked up at him then, really looked, searching his face like she was trying to find something she’d lost but wasn’t ready to ask for.
“Did I say anything…bad?”
“No,” he said immediately. Too fast. He softened his tone. “Nothing bad...I don't think...I'm sure you didn't.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. Good.”
They stood there, neither quite ready to leave.
“Lucy,” he said finally. “Whatever happens next, when this fully wears off, we should talk.”
She smiled, small but hopeful. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
They walked away in opposite directions, steps slow, both glancing back once, just to make sure the other was still there.
And for the first time since everything fell apart, the silence between them didn’t feel like an ending.
It felt like a beginning.
A few days later, Lucy stood at Tim’s front door with her hands shoved into her jacket pockets, rocking slightly on her heels like she might still bolt.
She hadn’t planned to come here.
Not exactly.
But she’d replayed the last few days over and over, snippets of half-memories, the way Tim had looked at her afterward, careful and guarded like he was holding something fragile, and eventually she’d run out of excuses not to.
The door opened before she could knock again.
“Lucy.”
His voice, steady, warm, unmistakably Tim, did something familiar to her chest. Tightened it. Softened it. Maybe both.
“Hey,” she said. “I, um… can I come in?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Inside, everything was painfully normal. Clean counters. A coffee mug in the sink. The quiet hum of a house that had missed her without knowing how to say it.
Kojo came to greet her and she crouched, burying her face in his fur before straightening up and facing Tim again.
They stood there for a second too long.
Finally, Lucy broke the silence. “I don’t remember everything.”
Tim nodded slowly. “I figured.”
“I remember feelings,” she continued. “Certainty. Like… there was no question. And then I woke up and everything was complicated again.”
His jaw tightened.
“I remember more,” he admitted.
Her breath caught. “How much more?”
“Enough,” he said honestly. “Enough to know you weren’t just talking. You knew exactly what you wanted.”
She swallowed. “And what did I want?”
He met her eyes. Didn’t look away.
“Me. A future. A family.” His voice dropped. “You forgave me.”
Lucy let out a shaky breath and sank onto the couch. “God.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And before you say anything, no, I don’t think the drugs made it up. They just stripped away the filters.”
She looked up at him then. “Did it scare you?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. Then, quieter, “But not because of you.”
She nodded, understanding blooming slowly in her chest. “Because of the rules. The rank. The mess.”
“And because I hurt you once already,” he added. “I don’t ever want to do that again.”
Lucy was quiet for a long moment.
“You know what I realized after everything wore off?” she said finally.
“What?”
“That even when I was completely out of control… I still felt safe with you.” Her voice wobbled just slightly. “That doesn’t go away. Drugs or no drugs.”
Tim exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for days.
“I don’t want to keep pretending this isn’t real,” she continued. “But I also won’t ask you to blow up your career. Or mine.”
He nodded. “Lucy...”
“I know,” she said, cutting him off gently. “Chain of command. It matters.”
She straightened, something resolute settling into her posture.
“But it won’t always.”
He mirrored her resolute look.
“The sergeant’s exam is soon,” she said. “And when I pass, when I’m no longer under you, then we do this the right way.”
Hope flickered in his eyes, cautious but undeniable.
"I didn't want to assume anything," he said, slowly, "But..."
"I know." she nodded, both of them understanding what remained unsaid.
“And until then?” he asked.
Lucy stood, closing the space between them. Not touching. Not yet.
“Until then, we’re honest,” she said. “We heal. We stop running from something that’s clearly not going anywhere.”
A slow smile tugged at his mouth. “You really think we belong together.”
She smiled back. “I don’t think. I know.”
Tim reached for her then, just her hands, grounding, steady.
“Then I’ll wait,” he said. “As long as it takes.”
Lucy squeezed his fingers. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
They didn’t kiss.
Not yet.
But when she left, it didn’t feel like walking away.
It felt like stepping toward something inevitable.
Epilogue
The station hummed around her, but Lucy barely heard it.
She stood at the front of Tim, shoulders back, heart pounding, not with nerves, but with pride.
“Sergeant Chen.”
Grey’s voice carried, firm and approving, as he handed her the stripes. She took them, fingers brushing the material like she was making sure it was real.
It was.
Tim didn't say anything more, the look on his face said everything: pride, awe, something dangerously close to reverence.
When they walked together, he waited. Gave her space. Always had. Not wanting to cross any more lines that might still exist.
Lucy crossed it anyway.
“So,” she said lightly, holding up the stripes. “Guess that solves one problem.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “It solves a big one.”
She tilted her head. “You sound relieved.”
“I am,” he said honestly. “But mostly? I’m proud of you.”
Her throat tightened. “You were there for all of it. Even when you couldn’t be.”
He reached out then, careful, deliberate, and brushed his thumb over the edge of her new rank. “You earned this. Every step.”
Lucy looked up at him, eyes shining. “You still waiting?”
Tim didn’t hesitate. “Never stopped.”
She smiled, the same sure, fearless smile she’d worn that night she barely remembered but would always feel.
“Good,” she said. “Because now… I’m ready.”
He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, voice low and steady. “Lucy Chen, I’ve been ready.”
This time, when he kissed her, there were no drugs, no walls between them, no rules standing in the way.
Just choice.
Just certainty.
And the quiet knowledge that they’d found their way back, exactly when they were meant to.