Chapter Text
“We just had a call about a possible disturbance at Griffith Park.”
Sergeant Tim Bradford mindlessly taps his pointer finger along the smooth leather of the steering wheel. His right eyebrow shifts up, just in the slightest, at the sound of the crackling radio – not a single call had come through all morning; he was beginning to feel sluggish.
“Show us responding,” he tells dispatch, almost excitedly.
From the passenger seat, Officer Miles Penn tightens his lips. “You’re not going to ask for more details?”
Sergeant Bradford snaps his neck. “This isn’t a Farmers Market, Officer Penn. We don’t get to browse the aisles for the calls we want.”
“I understand th-” the rookie begins, but he quickly stops himself. Getting on the Sergeant's bad side wasn’t exactly on his to-do list for the day.
A few seconds later, the department-issued iPad lights up. Without so much as a glance, Tim begins, “I didn’t ask for more details because I knew they were sending the report to our box.”
“How did you-”
Tim scoffs. “I know you, Penn.” He clicks his tongue, “granted, not that hard to figure you out. All rookies are the same.”
The young officer huffs, simply sinking deeper into the seat without another word.
Griffith Park was Tim’s least favorite location in the City of Los Angeles. There was always something going on, and the majority of the time it wasn’t exactly legal. “Lay it on me, Penn,” he instructs as they pull into the parking lot. “Who are we looking for.”
Miles squints his eyes, reading over the report from dispatch. “I, uh-”
“Just spit it out, Boot.”
“It’s a dog.”
Tim scoffs in disbelief. “A dog?”
“Looks like there were a couple complaints about a vicious dog running around?”
The Sergeant slams the car door behind him. “Do I look like animal control?”
Miles, unsure of whether he’s supposed to answer, simply follows Tim’s (rather quick) steps. They find the disturbance quite quickly – a group of citizens hover around in a circle, some of them guarding their children in fear.
“Alright, everyone,” Tim yells into the crowd. “Please back away from the dog.”
Albeit nervously, they follow his instructions, revealing the cause of commotion. A canine, neither small nor large, with wide eyes and a strong pant stares at the Sergeant. His barks are vicious, yet consistent – clearly out of pure fear. Likely from the huddle of people around, all of them whimpering and yelling dramatically for little reason.
“What’s the move, Sarge?” Officer Penn asks cautiously as the pair takes small steps towards the dog.
“First off, be quiet,” he instructs through an almost whisper.
Miles nods.
They trail gently, each step smaller and lighter than the last. To their surprise, the canine doesn’t back away as they approach. Instead, she tilts his head upward, his nose scrunching repeatedly as the men approach – Tim first, then Miles behind.
“Hey, bu-” Penn begins, but he’s immediately cut off by a rather loud bark, coupled with a slightly terrifying jump.
“Uh, sir, I don’t think he likes me very much,” Miles retracts.
Tim rolls his eyes. “Relax, Boot. Animals can sense fear, or whatever.”
“And you know this because you’re the animal expe…”
Officer Penn is quickly silenced: as Tim approaches the dog with ease, he begins to calm down, the barks become sparse and hunchback lowering, ever-so-slightly.
“I stand corrected, Sir,” Miles surrenders humbly, to which Tim simply scoffs with pride.
The Sergeant bends down carefully, slowly while lifting his hand out in front of him. “Hey,” he says in an almost-whisper, only loud enough for the dog to hear. He notices the bright blue collar around the canine’s neck; it sticks out like a sore thumb along his tender, spotted coat. “You’re a big guy, huh?”
The dog, albeit hesitantly, lowers his head, sticking his nose a few inches away from the officer’s hand. He takes a few, gentle sniffs before lowering his hunched back. Tim meticulously shifts his hand backward, allowing his skin to brush along the side of the canine’s face. He pets gently, making his way down towards the collar. He flicks the tag around, revealing the canine's name. “Well, Kojo,” he smiles, “it’s nice to meet you.”
The situation now diffused, Miles paces towards Tim. “Sir, should I call animal control?”
He shakes his head. “No. Find me the nearest shelter.”
“Okay.” The rookie pulls out his cellphone and presses a few buttons before revealing, “the closest is a Humane Society on Wilshire Boulevard."
“Great. We’ll take him there.”
Miles winces. “And what about the leather seats?”
“Are you paying for them, Penn?’
“No, Sir.”
“Great. Now shut up.”
.𖥔𓃫 ݁ ˖ᯓ
“I’m so sorry, Ma’am, we simply legally aren’t allowed to release animals to convicted felons.”
The woman on the other side of the counter scowers, rolling her eyes before jerking around and stomping right out of the door.
“That’s like, the third one this week, right?” Celina Juarez asks, leaning against the counter as her hands fiddle with the disinfectant spray in her hands.
“Fourth,” Lucy Chen corrects through a deep breath, hitting the ‘delete’ key on the computer.
“Damn,” the young girl huffs in amazement. “What was it this time?”
Lucy tilts her head downward, taking a step closer to her co-worker. “Child negligence.”
“You’re joking.”
“Wish I was,” Lucy breathes. “I hate how people think an animal isn’t a living, breathing creature. They’re like having a child!”
Celina nods in agreement. “Everyone sees pets as some sort of accessory. I’ll never understand it. I swear, my mom needs to give more attention to the birds than I never needed growing up.”
“I just wish the right people would walk in here,” Lucy deflates, resting her arm on the counter. “I mean, we’re basically at capacity. One more animal and we might have to…”
“I know. I don’t even want to think of it.”
Lucy lets out a deep sigh, but smiles. She thinks about her future: a comfortable house with a huge yard, a dozen dogs running around with millions of toys sprawled out across the green lawn. All of the neighborhood kids will knock on her door, begging to play with the pups after school every day; she’d say yes every single time - bring them snacks and water when the Los Angeles heat begins to set in. When the sun sets and the children are due home, she’d put all of the dogs on their lea-
“Lucy?”
Celina’s confused voice snaps her out of the daze almost immediately. “Sorry,” she remarks quickly. “What’s up?”
Celina points behind the counter with raised brows. Lucy tilts head, spinning on her heels – her daydream was so captivating that she seemed to have missed the ring of the windchie above the door; a pair of police officers stood in front of the counter.
“Hi,” she scrambles, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. How can I help you?”
An incredibly broody man – a little scary, even, speaks first. “We picked up a dog on a call today. Thought bringing him here would be better than animal control, in case he had a microchip or something.” He points down to a midsized canine sitting behind the officer's legs, his face buried behind his linen pants.
Lucy immediately smiles. Reuniting lost animals was one of her favorite parts about the job; it reminded her of the love circling around the Earth, the bond between mankind and animals. “Of course. I’d be happy to check for you.” She reaches down, fumbling inside a cabinet for their microchip reader. “You know,” she begins while wincing, “you did the right thing, bringing him here. Animal control would take days reuniting this guy with his family.”
“Yeah. I didn’t want this to take up any more time than it already has,” Tim scoffs.
At this, Lucy is incredibly glad she’s bent down at the moment – the comment was certainly… off putting. She hated the notion that animals were something to “deal with,” as opposed to a privilege. She knew first hand how much love they had to give.
“Here it is,” she announces quickly, shifting the conversation before the officer said something he’d regret. She exits from behind the counter and crouches down near the man’s legs – the canine seemed incredibly nervous, struck, almost. She does her best with the reader, moving it all around his lowered neck and body. “Hmm,” she frowns. “I’m not getting a reading.”
“Maybe it’s your machine,” he suggests. “Kojo’s got a collar.”
Lucy places her hand on her knee, lifting herself up. “Im sorry…” she narrows her eyes, reading his name tag, “Officer Bradford.”
“Sergeant,” he corrects.
The woman bites back a scoff. “Sergeant Bradford. I used the reader a few minutes ago, and it’s working just fine. Kojo doesn’t have a microchip. The best we can do is make a couple of social media posts, see if anyone reaches out. But it’s highly unlikely. California State Law requires all dogs and cats to be microchipped.”
“So what do we do? Call animal control?”
“No!” Lucy and Celina both shout in unison, almost scaring both of the officers. Lucy huffs, her eyes darting around the shelter lobby as she attempts to find a reasonable solution. “We’ll just… take it from here. We’ll figure it out.”
“Lucy,” Celina steps forward, whispering into her friend's ear. “We don’t have the space. There aren’t any open crates.”
“It’s fine,” she snaps. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
The younger woman nods; Lucy turns back to the officers. “Sergeant Bradford, we just have a few documents you’ll need to fill out for intake. It’ll just take a few moments.”
The man rolls his eyes. “Is that necessary?”
Lucy tightens her lips, her cheeks turning a gentle shade of red. “I’m afraid it is. California State Law-”
“Okay, okay,” he holds his hand out. “Just give them to me.”
From behind, the younger Officer nods, his eyes apologizing on behalf of the Sergeant.
Fearing that she’ll burst out in a fit of rage, Lucy prints the set of papers and hands them to Sergeant Bradford without another word – he fortunately follows in her suit and fills them out in a matter of seconds. He then tries to push Kojo in the woman’s direction. However, the dog has no desire to leave Tim’s presence.
“Oh, come on Kojo,” the officer groans. “I’ve gotta go back out on patrol.”
Kojo whines, his eyes falling to the floor.
This time, Celina steps in with a freshly opened pack of dog treats; it takes some convincing, but she and Tim finally push Kojo far enough for the officers to escape through the door – an action done without a single pleasantry from either party.
Lucy watches the door intently, holding her breath until the hinge locks back into place. “God,” she lets out a deep sign, brushing her hands through her long, dark hair. “That guy was insufferable.”
“I mean,” Celina shrugs, “he had a bit of an attitude, sure.”
“A bit?” Lucy gawks. “He acted like the dog was a nuisance.”
“I mean, it technically isn’t the LAPD’s job to handle ani-”
Lucy cuts off her friend. “Stop defending him!”
“Sorry,” Celina remarks apologetically. “You’re right. He was terrible.”
The woman nods, clicking her tongue. She flips through the paperwork he handed her, ensuring everything was filled out correctly. “Tim,” she says aloud, accidentally.
“Huh?”
“Oh,” Lucy blinks. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I said that out loud. The Sergeant’s name is Tim. I was just reading the form.”
“Okay…” Celina stands up, Kojo’s leash in her hand. “So, what are we going to do with this little guy?”
Lucy wipes her forehead with the back of her palm – beads of sweat form at the mere thought of Celina’s question. “We can…” she thinks, tapping her foot along the tile. “We can put him with Mochi and Teddy. They’re small, they don’t need all of that space.”
“That’ll work for a few hours,” Celina notes. “But what’ll happen when Zoe comes in for a final check and sees a very evident violation?”
“Just…” the woman closes her eyes. “I’ll think of something. Maybe some miracle will happen, and someone will walk through the door wanting an entire litter of dogs.”
“I think it’s time to pull out the good crystals.
“The good crystals?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Celina explains, shoving her hand into her back pocket.
“Usually, I’d make fun of you, but we need anything we can get.”
With a playful headshake, Celina slams a couple of gorgeous gemstones onto the counter – a saving grace, they both hope.
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“Hey, Bradford,” a voice calls out from across the Mid-Wilshire Police Department bullpen. He recognizes the voice of the department’s best detective immediately.
“Lopez, what can I do for you?”
Her eyebrows raise at the attitude lining his tone. “I’m going to ignore that,” she remarks, flicking her hand through the air. “I heard you made a friend today.”
“What?”
“Penn told me about some dog who really took a liking to you.”
“Oh,” he crosses his arms. “It was just a call. The dog was scared, or whatever. But I left him at the shelter.”
“Damn,” the woman shakes her head. “You didn’t just call animal control?”
“And wait for them to arrive on scene? God no, it would’ve taken hours.”
Angela opens her mouth to respond, but the sound of Tim’s ringtone interrupts her. “Hold on,” he huffs, pulling the device out of his pocket. His brow furrows at the unfamiliar number.
“Bradford,” he says wearily.
“Hi, Sergeant Bradford,” a voice rings out from the other end. “This is Lucy, from the Humane Society. You dropped off Kojo a few hours ago?”
“Yes, that was me,” he remarks coolly. “Did you need something?”
“Yes, sir,” she begins, then pauses. He hears her suck in a load of air before continuing. “It’s just that… we’re actually at full capacity, and there aren’t any other shelters that are able to take Kojo in. If we don’t find someone to take him home in the next half-hour, we’ll have to…”
He waits for her to finish her sentence, but she doesn’t. “You’ll have to..” he prompts her, confused.
“Euthanize him, sir.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Angela, sensing the conflict, cranes her neck to the side. “What’s going on?”
Tim responds by holding out his hand. He then asks Lucy, “what do you except me to do about it?”
She clears her throat before explaining, “I just thought that, well, he really took a liking to you. I saw on the intake forms that you live in a house, and I was wondering if maybe you would be able to take him? Just for a few days, until a spot hopefully opens up.”
“I-” he stumbles, “I don’t want a dog.”
Angela pipes up, “you’re getting a dog?”
“No!” he tells her sharply. Then, he returns to Lucy. “I can’t take a dog. I’m at work all day, and quite frankly, I have no interest in caring for an animal.”
“Sergeant Bradford, you understand that if Kojo doesn’t find a home in the next half-hour, we’ll have to put him down, right?” Her voice is firm, intimidating. “And since the two of you got along so well, I thought it would be a good fit. At least for a little.”
The man draws a deep breath. “Look…” He realizes he never caught her name.
“Lucy.”
“Look, Lucy,” he continues. “Even if I wanted to take Kojo home, I have no food, or toys. I just can’t take a dog in.”
“We can provide that, Sergeant Bradford. I can even give you the number of the best dog-walkers in town. Just for a few days, that's all.”
He wants to say no, to leave the situation in the past, leaving it to someone else for the night. But the thought of a living, breathing animal being killed all for having no one to care for him… it formed a deep pit in his stomach. So, before he can change his mind, he tells Lucy, “Fine. I’ll take him, but only for a couple of days.”
“Really!?” He hears both the excitement and relief in her voice. “Thank you so much, Sergeant. You just saved a life.”
“I know. I’ll be there in ten.” He ends the call, shoving his cellphone back into his pocket.
Angela stares at him amused, a wide grin painted across her face.
“What?” he huffs at her merriment.
“Did Tim Bradford just get a puppy?”
The man rolls his eyes. “It was that, or the dog gets euthanized. Plus, he definitely wasn’t a puppy.”
The detective lets out a whistle. “I did not see this coming.”
“Yeah, well, it won’t last for long. It’s just for a few days.”
She narrows her eyes. “I don’t believe that. You’re going to get attached.”
“No I'm not.”
“We’ll see.”
.𖥔𓃫 ݁ ˖ᯓ
Lucy taps her finger along the granite counter vigorously; the pen between her sinking teeth mere seconds away from bursting within her mouth.
“Chill out, Lucy,” Celina calls out from behind, swinging a purse over her shoulder.
“He said he’d be here.”
“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic.”
“Or maybe he’s flaking on us. It’s already been,” Lucy flicks her wrist over, studying the thin hands of her golden wrist watch. “Six minutes,” she deflates, slightly embarrassed.
Celina paces towards her friend gently. “I love how passionate you are about your job, I do. But you’re going to give yourself heart disease if you keep worrying like this.”
Lucy relaxes, shifting all of her weight onto her hands as she leans against the desk. “You’re right. I have been feeling this pressure in my chest, it’s like,” the woman presses down below her collarbone, “kind of annoying.”
“Wow,” Celina’s posture stiffens. “I was just joking.”
“It’s fine,” she waves her hand through the air with no urgency. “I think I just eat too much salt.”
“Have you considered just… what do the kids call it, chilling out?”
The woman stifles a laugh. “I think that term is out of fashion now, Celina. But regardless,” she looks down at the canine lingering behind Celina, “once this little guy gets picked up, I’ll be able to relax.”
Just then, the wind chime rings out – Tim walks through the door hurriedly, his hands in the pockets of his washed-out jeans.
“Sergeant Bradford!” Lucy perks up instantly, the excitement a tad overboard – she notices the slight indignation on the officer’s already-exhausted face. She takes a deep breath before continuing cooly, “we cannot thank you enough for your help.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he huffs, his eyes darting around the lobby with impatience. “So, how does this whole thing work?”
“Well, it’s fairly simple. We just have some paperwork for you to fill out: we need your address, work phone, etcetera. Then, we’ll give you a few things for Kojo and send you on your way,” she explains gleefully.
“It won’t take long, right? I have to catch the game.”
Lucy bites her tongue. “I’ll make it speedy, Sir.”
And she does – it only takes her seventeen minutes to get all of the paperwork filled out, and supplies loaded into Tim’s car. She even sneaks in a few seconds to give Kojo a proper goodbye filled with soft pets and treats.
Once the canine is all squared away in the backseat of Tim’s truck, Lucy clasps her hands in front of her stomach, her eyes glimmering in awe. “Sergeant Bradford, the Humane Society is incredibly grateful for your contribution. You’re doing a really good thing, you know.”
“Well,” the man breathes, pursing his lips. “I’m more used to protecting people, but maybe this won’t be so bad.”
She smiles. “I’m pretty confident that it won’t. Plus, maybe Kojo is just as much of a gift to you as you are for him.”
“I wouldn't say all that,” Tim huffs. “I was never a huge fan of animals.”
“Well, he sure is a fan of yours. And I think he’ll grow on you pretty quickly.”
Tim removes his hand from his pocket, placing it on the handle of the driver’s-side door. “You call me when you've found a suitable adopter for him, Lucy.”
“Will do, Sergeant,” she promises with a firm nod.
He turns his back to her, swinging the door open. But he stops before climbing in. “You can call me Tim.”
She furrows her brow.
“I assume you’re going to blow up my phone asking for updates. You don’t need to be so formal.”
“Noted, Tim,” she laughs. “You have a great first night with Kojo. You can call us at any time if you need anything, and I’ll see you for the home visit.”
Tim cranes his neck. “Home visit?”
“You know what,” Lucy decides, “maybe it’s best you head home before you change your mind now.”
“Maybe so,” Tim agrees with a chuckle. “Have a goodnight, Lucy.”
“You too, Tim.”