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“Something is up with Lucy.”
“You think?” Nyla asks, not even bothering to look away from the road, long used to Angela’s scheming and meddling in the personal lives of their friends.
“I mean, I don’t know for sure,” Angela admits. “I just have a feeling.”
Nyla hums. “I’m sure she’s fine. You have feelings all of the time.”
“She’s been acting weird.”
“Angela.”
“I’m serious,” she insists, now leaning slightly toward defensive.
Nyla briefly glances at her from the driver’s seat before turning her attention back to the road ahead.
“Do you think she would say if something was wrong?” Angela asks the other detective.
Nyla takes a breath before glancing over once again. “You know Lucy. If something is up, she will talk when she is ready. She definitely will with Tim,” she answers, slightly more serious after realizing this is actually bothering Angela.
Angela nods.
She knows Nyla is probably right. Still, she isn’t convinced.
Lucy and Tim had been through a lot this year.
Westview.
Everett.
The proposal turned kidnapping.
It was hard on them. Especially Lucy.
The first few months after the kidnapping were rough. Lucy eventually began to work through what happened, but not before a lot of sleepless nights, therapy appointments, and more than a few scares that left the people who loved her worried. Slowly, she started looking more like herself again. Smiling more. Laughing more. Living instead of merely surviving.
For a while, it seemed that neither of them knew how to exist apart from each other. They came back from their honeymoon happier than she had seen them in months, but also seemingly incapable of spending more than a few hours apart. If Lucy was working patrol, Tim somehow found a reason to stop by. If Tim was stuck at the station, Lucy inevitably ended up there too. They arrived together, left together, and spent all of their free time with each other.
It was almost as if they believed that if one let the other out of their sight, they would disappear forever.
Angela understood it. She really did.
After everything they had been through, she couldn’t exactly blame them.
Still, understanding didn’t make it healthy.
So their people stepped in.
Girls' nights became mandatory every other Friday. The guys started getting together every other Wednesday. Celina eased Lucy back into patrol without Tim by her side. She worked at Lucy’s pace, even if it meant spending only two hours on the streets. Angela and Wesley invited them over for dinner whenever they could. Little by little, things started getting better.
Not perfect, but better.
Which is exactly why the last six weeks have bothered Angela so much.
Lucy has cancelled on the last few girls’ nights, offering no explanation or some made-up excuse about Kojo or laundry. The first time Angela didn’t think much of it. They were finally back in the swing of things and life gets busy. Lucy was probably just tired. After the third time Angela asked Wesley and found out Tim had missed the last couple as well.They weren’t coming over as much for dinner anymore, having been only once in the last month.
Alarm bells were officially going off in her head.
They are both acting fine at work. Happy, even. . .
Maybe she is overthinking it.
Maybe life has simply gotten busy.
And yet, every time Angela looks at Lucy, she finds herself searching for something she can’t quite put her finger on.
She just couldn’t shake the feeling that something is off.
The feeling lingers for days.
Every time Angela convinces herself she is imagining things, Lucy does something that pulls her attention right back. She inexplicably disappears from a room, Tim often disappearing soon after. She is in and out of the locker room so quickly before and after shift that it is rare anyone actually lays eyes on her. She would order lunch and proceed to eat little or none of it.
By Thursday afternoon, Angela has abandoned any pretense of focusing on paperwork. She catches herself staring across the bullpen yet again.
Lucy is at her desk, hunched over a pile of paperwork. Nothing about the image is necessarily wrong, but something about it just doesn’t feel right.
It’s normal, routine even.
Lucy usually does paperwork right after lunch if the circumstances allow. She once told Angela that she feels it sets her up for a successful second half of her day, saying that she is able to have a clear mind and focus on her surroundings without the dread of a massive stack of paperwork waiting for her.
Angela studies her body language. The bags under her eyes suggest that she is tired. She almost looks a little pale, but she has a blush spreading across her cheeks that has been there since this morning. She honestly looks like she doesn’t feel very well, but she also looks . . . happy?
Angela examines her for a few more moments before shaking her head in resignation. She lets out a long breath and looks back down to the computer screen in front of her, attempting to drown herself in case files to escape the nagging thoughts in the back of her head.
A couple of minutes pass.
Then five more.
Angela rereads the same paragraph for the third time before realizing she hasn’t absorbed a single word. She clenches her jaw and begins tapping her foot against the floor, frustration beginning to creep in.
She places her palms on the hard desk and pushes herself up. She looks at Nyla to her left, who is blissfully focused on her work, completely oblivious to the spiral currently unraveling inside Angela’s head.
“I’m gonna go get some coffee. You want anything?” she asks her partner.
“No, I’m good,” Nyla responds without looking up. “Thanks.”
“Yep,” Angela turns on her heels, taking off toward the break room.
The short walk does little to clear her mind. She tries to take in her surroundings, desperately searching for anything that will divert her thoughts from the woman back in the bull pen.
The first thing she notices when she enters the breakroom is Smitty sitting on the couch, feet propped up in front of him, not even trying to hide the fact that he is taking a nap on duty.
The second thing she notices is Miles and Celina having a hushed conversation by the sink.
She strides over to the coffee machine and tries not to listen in. She really does. But they are standing right there. How can she not?
“. . . I don’t know,” Celina whispers. “It’s just something about her aura, it’s different.”
Angela sees Miles shrug out of the corner of her eye. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean she is hiding something.”
Huh.
“I know. I know,” Celina breathes out. “Look, I ride with her every day. Every time I even begin to approach the subject she deflects. It just seems like there is something she doesn’t want me to know.”
Angela freezes.
So she is talking about Lucy.
“Maybe she just wants some privacy. You guys are close. If something is wrong she will tell you.”
“Will she though?”
Angela knows she needs to leave soon. She finished making her coffee about thirty seconds ago and has been mindlessly stirring it, pretending not to eavesdrop.
“I’m sure it’s nothing Celina,” Miles reassures. “But if you are really worried try asking her again later. Maybe off duty?”
Angela doesn’t stick around to hear Celina’s response.
She got the gist.
She isn’t imagining it.
Celina sees it too.
What the hell is going on?
She quickly paces back to her original spot, now feeling more consumed by her earlier thoughts than she had been before her measly attempt at a distraction.
She is just about at her desk when she looks up and sees Lucy now standing by her own while Tim sets a cup down with a smile that reaches his eyes . . . and then some.
Interesting.
The drink that caught her attention.
It was that smile.
Angela pulls her chair out and takes a sip of her coffee, her attention never leaving the couple in question. She can see their lips moving, so attuned to one another they have probably forgotten there is anyone else in the room.
She rolls her eyes.
Nothing new.
But then, Tim’s eyes move down from Lucy’s and settle on her . . . stomach?
He’s still smiling.
Angela’s eyebrows knit together watching each of his movements.
Lucy looks down as his hand discreetly reaches out, his fingertips softly brushing her belly over the fabric of her uniform. It was so quick that if you blinked you would have missed it.
Why would he–
“Oh my god!”
She slams her coffee cup on her desk harder than she intended to, the liquid splashing over the edge of the cup and onto the reports littering the space.
Nyla’s head shoots up, her eyes locking with Angela’s.
“What?” she asks, evidently confused at Angela’s animated reaction.
Angela stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. She scrambles to come up with something, “Uh- I just . . . I think I caught a break with this case I have been working on.”
Nyla gives her a suspicious look, but chooses not to press it for now. She nods slowly before turning her attention back to her screen.
Angela pays no mind to it. She turns her gaze back to Tim and Lucy, only to find them already moving in opposite directions. Tim was now stepping into his office, Lucy approaching Celina, cup in hand.
Angela’s brain short-circuits.
She looks back toward Tim as he sits at his desk. He opens his computer and starts typing like he didn’t just reveal a life altering secret.
Well, he technically doesn’t know he did.
She can’t peel her eyes away from him. She probably looks like a total creep, but she can’t bring herself to care.
As if he can sense her gaze, he lifts his head and locks eyes with her. He shoots her a questioning look, but she can’t will herself to look away. He stares back for a moment before lifting his hand and beckoning her toward his office.
Uh oh.
She stands from her seat and takes a breath before heading toward the glass office. She sees Nyla give her another look in the corner of her eye.
She looks down at her feet, her heart rate quickening with every step.
She finally looks up at him when she approaches the door, entering and standing in front of her friend. “What did I tell you about waving me over like a waiter,” she aims for lighthearted but misses by a mile, the onslaught of emotions temporarily stripping away her wit.
“You were staring,” he says plainly.
“Yeah, and?” Her voice is growing thicker by the second.
She tries to fight it, swallowing hard, the burn in her eyes intensifying.
“Angela. What is going on?” he asks, now sounding slightly concerned.
A moment passes, the silence almost deafening.
“You’re going to be a dad,” she says, the words catching in her throat as the last of her composure gives way.
The dam breaks.
Tears start slipping down her cheeks before she can stop them.
Tim, on the other hand, turns bright red. His eyes bulge out of his head.
He shoots up from his desk chair, stalking over to the door and closing it fast enough to rattle the glass. He turns back to face Angela, his expression dumbfounded.
Most people would think this reaction warranted second guessing, but Angela knew him better than most. He almost looked . . . defeated?
He quickly attempted to school his features but the damage was done.
“I don’t know what you’re-”
“Timothy, stop it,” she cuts him off. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”
He scowls at her. His eyes boring into her tear-filled ones with so much intensity that any other officer would probably back down. But Angela is not just any police officer. She may be the only person, other than Lucy, whose resolve is as strong as that of Tim Bradford. So, she hunkers down, refusing to be the first to surrender. She fixes him with a glare of her own that she hopes communicates that she sees right through him.
She briefly wonders how it looks to outsiders. Two officers engaged in a silent standoff, each of them looking like they are ready to pounce on the other at any moment.
It continues on for a few more moments. Long enough for a sliver of doubt to creep in. Maybe he wasn’t backing down because it’s not real?
No, this is definitely real.
If it wasn’t he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly and he certainly would have denied it by now.
The realization causes her to dig her heels in even further, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge. He takes a breath in through his nose. She expects him to tell her off. Maybe say his usual ‘mind your business’ line, but he doesn’t.
Instead, the strangest thing happens.
His shoulders crumple inward ever so slightly, just enough to notice. His gaze drifts to the ground in between their squared off toes, shaking his head just a bit.
Then he . . . laughs? Just a little. A quiet laugh that sounds like it had to fight its way out of his chest to actually be heard. He looks back up at her. This time, he almost looks a little amused.
“How did you know?” he asks softly.
A whimper escapes her as she realizes he actually confirmed her suspicions. Not that she ever should have doubted herself.
Lucy is pregnant.
She scoffs playfully. “It’s funny you think you can hide anything from your best friend.”
His face drops.
“I don’t have a best friend.”
“Uh huh,” she rolls her eyes. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, big guy.”
A shaky laugh escapes her.
She swipes at her cheeks with the heels of her hands, attempting to pull herself together.
“Jesus, Tim,” she mutters. “I can’t believe you are having a baby.”
Tim’s expression softens, like he can’t quite believe it himself.
Angela takes a breath. Then another. Finally feeling like she can think straight again.
Then she narrows her eyes at him. “You know what? This is your fault,” she says, gesturing at her face.
His eyebrows shoot up.
“My fault?”
“Yes! Why did you not tell me about this?!”
He throws his hands up defensively.
“Angela, please stop and tell me how you figured it out.”
She smirks. “It was pretty easy honestly.”
He looks at her, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly expecting her to continue.
“Well . . . I noticed you guys have been all over each other lately, which is grossly normal for you two but this was excessive. Lucy has also been acting strange and she hadn’t cancelled on girls’ night in forever and all of a sudden she bailed on four in a row. Four. Then Wesley told me you haven’t been showing up either, so I started paying attention.”
She shrugs.
“Then today, I saw you look at her stomach and get that big stupid dopey grin on your face and it all clicked,” she finishes, smiling victoriously.
“Wow,” he says, eyes widening in shock. “You got all that from me looking at her stomach? I look at my wife all the time.”
“Ugh, I know,” she grimaces. “But it was also the grin.”
His eyes roll to the ceiling. “Also the grin,” he repeats sarcastically, shaking his head.
“You’re about as subtle as a brick wall,” she jabs. “If you don’t want anyone else to know you should probably tone it down a little with all of your . . . hovering.”
He scoffs, “I’m not hovering.”
Angela fixes him with her best mom glare, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at him.
He rolls his eyes as he concedes. “You sound like her now.”
“Tell me why I am not surprised,” she chuckles.
He shakes his head again, gaze wandering back to the floor.
“But Ange —” he starts, this time sincere.
“Yeah?”
“Could you please keep this to yourself? Just for now. Until we are ready.”
“Of course,” she responds with a soft smile.
A moment passes.
“Well, except for Wesley.”
“Really?” he deadpans.
“Tim, this is the most exciting thing since like ever! You can’t possibly expect me to hold onto this by myself for the foreseeable future.”
“Fine,” he relents. “But only Wesley.”
She beams. Her smile is comically large.
“But seriously Angela,” he continues, “if you tell Nyla I will make sure Caradine assigns you to every decomp that comes through for the next five years.”
“Puh-leaseeee,” she rolls her eyes dramatically. “You would never. But, I promise I won’t tell anyone. This is your guys’ moment.”
“Thank you,” her friend says softly, the giddy expression from earlier finally returning to his face.
“Always.”
She turns to finally walk out of his office, stopping just before crossing the threshold and looking over her shoulder. She fights off the surge of emotions she feels in her chest as she thinks about how much he has overcome since they were rookies all those years ago.
Thinks about the battles he has fought to get to where he is now.
Thinks about how he is going to be a dad.
And a damn good one.
“I’m really happy for you, Tim. Both of you.”
He smiles at her. Letting the words of his best friend soak over him.
“Me too.”
“Angela has been staring at me for like days,” Lucy says out of the blue as Tim and her are finally driving home from work. Today had been long and exhausting and they didn’t see much of each other apart from a few stolen moments in passing.
Tim immediately knows what she is referencing. He considers explaining it away, but he knows it will only hurt him in the long run. If Lucy finds out that he knew that Angela knew, she would have his head. And probably not just metaphorically.
“She knows,” he sighs, offering no further explanation.
Lucy’s head whips so fast toward him that he is surprised he didn’t hear her neck crack. “Please tell me you did not tell her,” making no attempts to subtle the threatening tone of her voice.
“I didn’t,” he says defensively. “She figured it out.”
“How?” Her tone is flat. Clearly not pleased with this revelation.
“Look, I’m not even totally sure. She said something about noticing we have been more absent and then she saw me looking down at your stomach in the bullpen and she just put the pieces together I guess,” he explains.
Lucy stares at him for a moment.
“This is because you were hovering.”
“Uh-”
She continues, not giving him a chance to defend himself. “I told you that if you didn’t chill out people would start to notice.”She huffs in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to look out the window.
He waits, considering how to approach this. He knows she is not really upset. She is scared. It’s why she wanted to wait in the first place. Scared of what people would think. Scared people would treat her differently. But ultimately, he knows that she is scared of something happening. Scared of this thing that is so good that she can’t let herself believe it is actually going last. Scared that once everyone knows it becomes real. And once it is real it can be taken away.
He gets it. He really does.
But, they have already spent too much time letting fear dictate their lives.
He opens his hand, slowly extending it toward the passenger seat. She hesitates for a second, but then slides her hand into his. She doesn’t look away from the window as she squeezes his fingers softly three times.
I love you.
He takes a breath and brushes his finger over her knuckles. He lets the quiet hum of the vehicle begin to settle the harsh, lingering edges of their shared anxiety.
“Maybe it’s time,” he suggests gently.
She tries to cover up her shuddering breath, but he notices anyway.
“I don’t know, Tim.”
“Luce . . .” he trails off.
She turns to face him. He takes his eyes briefly off the road to absorb her uncertain expression.
“I’m just . . . scared,” she admits.
He brings her knuckles up to his lips, kissing softly three times.
“I know,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles. “But it’s our baby, Lucy. We are not protecting them by keeping it a secret.”
He hears her sharp intake of breath. A tell-tale sign she is gearing up for a fight or she is about to break down. He shakes his head lightly.
Upset that he said the wrong thing, he murmurs, “I’m sorry-”
“No,” she cuts him off. “You’re right.”
He briefly looks at her once more.
“Really?” he asks, disbelief coloring his tone.
She chuckles, but he hears the wetness behind it. His heart flutters at the sound.
“Yeah,” she shrugs. “I think I’ll be scared no matter when we tell them. But I also think I have spent so much time being afraid that I haven’t actually let myself be excited for it.”
She glances down at her stomach and a small smile tugs at her lips.
“But this is a good thing, Tim.”
He smiles. This woman continues to amaze him every day. Even more so now that she is growing their child. “So we tell them?”
“Yeah,” she nods once.
Resolute.
“We tell them.”
The next day Angela feels a little lighter as she comes into work.
Somehow, carrying the knowledge that Lucy is pregnant and Tim is going to be a dad has lifted the weight of unease that had been nagging at her for days.
Angela exits the break room, where she is immediately cornered by Lucy, startling a little when she grabs her arm and begins urgently pulling her toward the interrogation rooms.
“Alright,” Angela says, barely managing to not spill her drink. “Good morning to you too.”
Lucy doesn’t answer and Angela’s amusement immediately begins to fade.
Lucy practically shoves her into an empty observation space. When she turns, Angela can see the anxiety clearly written across her face.
“Lucy, what’s wrong?” she asks, gentler this time.
“I-” Lucy tries, but the words catch.
Angela hesitates just a fraction, but then reaches out and gently pulls her into a hug.
Lucy stiffens, clearly unsure, before finally melting into the detective’s embrace. Angela feels her take a deep unsteady breath.
Angela and Lucy have never been particularly close. Friends, sure, but mostly through the people closest to each of them. Despite that, they have spent years showing up for each other when it matters most. Through hospitals, weddings, and loss. Somewhere along the way a quiet bond had formed. One built on trust rather than proximity. Knowing that no matter the circumstances, the other would always be there for them.
But in this moment, with Lucy trembling quietly in her arms, she feels something shift.
She tightens her arms ever so slightly and scratches soothingly at Lucy’s back. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs.
Lucy nods against her shoulder, though Angela isn't sure she actually believes it.
After another breath, Lucy pulls back, looking only marginally calmer.
"I don't know how to do this," Lucy quietly confesses.
Angela's expression softens as she remembers the feeling herself.
"Lucy," she starts, careful now. "Nobody knows how to do this. Not really."
Lucy lets out a weak, disbelieving laugh.
"I'm serious," Angela says. "You think I had any idea what I was doing the first time? I was terrified. I still am half the time."
That earns her a tiny smile.
"But you figure it out," Angela continues. "And you are an amazing woman, an amazing Sergeant, an amazing wife. I have no doubt that you are going to be an amazing mother."
Lucy looks uncertain, her hand unconsciously moving to settle on her belly.
“Does it ever get easier?” she asks hesitantly.
Angela laughs before she can stop herself. “Not really.”
This time, Lucy laughs too.
“But it does get better,” she reassures her. “This is just a moment. You will make it through this one, feel better for about five minutes, and then something new will come up.”
Lucy shakes her head, but her smile stays.
“And honestly?” Angela adds. “It only gets worse once they are here.”
“Wow,” Lucy says, looking slightly taken aback. “That’s comforting.”
“I know, I am great at this.”
Lucy’s laugh is a little more genuine this time.
Angela lets the moment settle before her voice softens again.
“But it’s worth it,” she nods. “As soon as you see that little face, none of the worries seem important anymore.”
Lucy hums, her expression softening.
“If it’s any consolation,” Angela smiles. “It’s easier the second time.”
“Good to know,” Lucy chuckles.
Angela nods, satisfied that Lucy looked at least a little less overwhelmed than she had five minutes ago.
“So . . .” Angela ventures, “how far along are you?”
“Oh,” Lucy’s eyebrows lift. “He didn’t tell you?”
Angela shrugs. “He didn’t really tell me anything.”
“Huh,” Lucy looks slightly amused at that. “I’m, uh . . . eight weeks. We’ve known for about three.”
Angela makes a small, fond noise.
“So that must be why you have been cancelling on girls night?” she teases, “you’ve been holding out on us.”
“Well . . .” Lucy admits, glancing away. “I actually stopped coming when we started trying. I didn’t want to have to answer any questions.”
Angela’s mouth falls open.
“Damn girl, that was quick.”
Laughter bubbles between them.
“But, Lucy,” Angela says after a beat. “Please come on Friday. We miss you.”
They both know what she is really asking.
Lucy’s smile fades a tad. Not gone, just softer.
“You think?”
Angela shrugs.
“You’ll be nine weeks? It’s time, if you are ready.”
Lucy looks down at her hand on her stomach. Angela follows her gaze, then waits.
“I think I might be.”
Five days later Angela, Lucy, Nyla, Bailey, and Celina are sitting around a sticky circle table tucked into the corner of their favorite Mexican restaurant. The one with half priced margaritas on Fridays.
Angela took a moment to gauge Lucy’s expression. She looked a little nervous, of course, but more than that she looked content.
Bailey is talking about something her new rookie had done that day when the waitress came around to get their drink orders. Lucy shoots Angela an anxious glance and Angela slides her hand under the table to give her knee a reassuring squeeze.
Angela had offered to skip margaritas tonight so Lucy wouldn’t have to face a million questions if she wasn’t ready. But Lucy had insisted. Tonight she was going to tell the others.
The waitress made her way around the table, each of the ladies ordering some form of margarita. Lucy took a quick breath when the waitress turned to her.
“I’ll just have a water please,” she says, not yet daring to look away from the waitress.
Angela sees Nyla and Bailey exchange a quick look and Celina looks at Lucy with her eyebrows pinched slightly together. Lucy doesn’t acknowledge it, but a silence falls over the group. On a normal night, nobody would question somebody ordering water. But girls’ night. At this restaurant. It was their night to let loose. It was tradition to have at least two drinks, minimum.
Celina is the first to speak up.
“So Lucy, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . .” she trails off, seemingly trying to gauge Lucy’s reaction before continuing.
Angela squeezes her knee again and Lucy finally gives a small nod.
“Well . . . I had noticed that you seemed kind of off lately. Not in a bad way,” she rushes to clarify. “I just– is everything okay?”
Lucy swallows before answering.
“Yeah,” she answers. “Everything is . . . okay.”
“But?” This time it is Nyla that chimes in, prompting her to continue.
Lucy worries her bottom lip between her teeth for just a moment, but as her hand drifts to her stomach under the table a smile begins to overtake her face. She takes a small breath.
“I’m pregnant,” she says quietly.
Crickets.
Then . . .
“OH. MY. GOD.” Celina practically squeals.
“Congratualtions!” Bailey exclaims as she pulls a giggling Lucy into a hug.
Nyla beams at her before turning and giving Angela a knowing glance. Angela rolls her eyes because of course she knew.
“I told Miles your aura was different," Celina says triumphantly. “Tell us everything!”
Lucy turns and looks at Angela, dipping her chin and smiling softly in gratitude before turning back to the group.
“Well, I am nine weeks today, so we are due in early March,” she tells them.
“Oh that is perfect,” Bailey emphasizes. “That means you’ll get through the worst of the summer before you’re really showing and you’ll be pregnant for the holidays, but not too pregnant!”
The girls trail off in conversation after that. Talking about all things birth charts, baby showers, and nursery themes. Angela looks around the group for a moment, soaking in the outpouring of love they are showing for their friend.
She knows without a shadow of a doubt that they will show up for this child the same way they have always shown up for each other.
And after everything Tim and Lucy had to overcome to get here, they deserve nothing less.