Work Text:
It wasn’t often that Tim felt inadequate, but sitting at the dining table with procedure papers scattered around him, his laptop open and the table lamp providing the only light in the living room, he was beginning to feel exactly that.
He’d waited years for another shot at promotion. Years to prove himself to the brass again after screwing up his opportunity with Metro, to show them that he was ready for more responsibility. And now, when he finally had the chance, he was going to blow it because he couldn’t memorise a simple role call announcement.
The worst part was that he’d done this before. He knew how role call worked. He’d filled in for Grey enough times to know the routine, so there was no reason this should’ve been difficult. Maybe it was the nerves of stepping into a new position, or maybe it was the sheer amount of information he was trying to commit to memory, but the longer he sat there, the harder it became to absorb any of it. He’d read the same paragraph three times and still couldn’t have told you what it said.
Tim dropped the stack of papers onto the table with a frustrated huff and dragged both hands through his hair.
He hated feeling like this. It made him feel small, taking him straight back to being a kid sitting at the kitchen table with a report card he didn’t want to show his father. He could still remember the frustration of staring at his schoolwork, trying to force information into his head, only to come home with bad grades and face his dad’s anger. Not that Tim had ever really believed his father actually cared how he was doing in school. It had always felt more like the grades were another excuse to be disappointed in him.
He knew he learned better when someone read things aloud to him. He’d figured that out years ago, even if he’d never been particularly keen to admit it.
But Lucy was asleep, and he’d rather die than wake her up just to confess that, despite being a grown man and a sergeant, he still needed help memorising a few paragraphs.
With another frustrated sigh, he slammed his laptop shut and pushed it away from him, dropping his head into his hands. He sat in the silence of the house, frustrated with himself for getting so caught up in his own head.
“Baby?”
Tim’s head shot up.
Lucy stood in the doorway, a robe hanging loosely around her, her hair mussed from sleep. She looked adorably drowsy, blinking at him as she tried to wake herself up properly.
“Sorry,” he said immediately. “Did I wake you?”
She yawned, shaking her head. “No. But you still weren’t in bed, and I missed you, so I came to check on you.”
Something in his chest softened at that.
“Just give me a couple more minutes, and I’ll be there.” He gestured vaguely at the mess on the table. “Just need to finish this.”
Lucy padded over to him and came to a stop at his side, slipping her arms around his shoulders. His hand found her waist automatically, his thumb brushing over the soft fabric of her robe.
“Are you still going over tomorrow’s briefing?”
“Yeah.” He glanced at the papers. “I’m just struggling to remember a few things.”
The admission came out reluctantly, and he was quick to follow it with, “But I’m sure I’ll get it in a couple of minutes. You should go back to bed.”
Lucy looked at him for a moment, clearly unconvinced. Then, instead of arguing, she turned and settled herself onto his lap.
Tim let out a surprised breath, instinctively shifting his chair back to give her room. He adjusted her until her back rested comfortably against his chest, one arm settling around her middle.
“Well,” she said, snuggling into him as though she'd always intended to end up there, “I'm awake now. And maybe if I help, we can both go to bed a little sooner.”
Tim hesitated, still fighting the childish embarrassment of needing help with something he felt he should be able to manage on his own.
Are you sure?” he asked, his hand settling at her waist. “You don’t have to stay up with me.”
“I know.”
“Thank you.” he murmured.
It was all he could manage. His mind was too full, his thoughts tumbling over one another, and none of the words he could think of seemed big enough to encompass what he was feeling.
It was odd, sometimes, even with Lucy sitting in his lap, tucked comfortably against his chest as though she belonged there, he still couldn’t quite believe she was his. That she liked him enough, loved him enough, to build a life with him. To share a home with him, fall asleep beside him every night, and willingly sacrifice a little more of her sleep to help him memorise boring work papers.
Was it possible to feel so completely seen by another person? To have someone know you well enough that, even half-asleep, they somehow sensed when you needed them?
Tim had never been particularly spiritually inclined. He’d always preferred things he could see, touch, and explain. Lucy, on the other hand, had a way of believing in things he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. But sitting there with her warm weight in his lap, her arms loosely draped around his, he found himself wondering how anyone could experience something like this and not believe in soulmates.
“Of course, baby.” Lucy glanced back at him, her smile softening when she caught his expression. She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw, as though there was nothing to thank her for.
She turned back towards the table, reaching for the papers. “Okay, so there’s not actually that much you need to remember. I’ll read some of it out, and you can say it back to me. Like we used to.”
Tim nodded, pulling her closer again, until there was barely any space left between them.
Lucy let out a quiet laugh. “Tim. I need to be able to breathe.”
“You're breathing.”
“Debatable.”
He loosened his hold by approximately half an inch.
“Wow, thank you. So much better.” She said her voice dripping with sarcasm but Tim could feel her smile against his cheek before she settled the papers in front of them and began to read.
And for the first time that evening, Tim stopped trying to force the words into his head all by himself.
It took a little longer than either of them had anticipated, but eventually, the papers began to make sense.
Lucy read, Tim repeated. She corrected him when he missed a word, made him start again when he tried to rush through a sentence, and occasionally threatened to revoke his boyfriend privileges when he insisted he’d got something right and she insisted he hadn’t.
He got there in the end.
***
By the time he could recite the entire announcement without looking at the page, the living room had gone quiet. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of paper as Tim checked his work one last time.
He smiled to himself, a small, satisfied thing. Then he looked down, Lucy had fallen asleep on his shoulder.
Her head rested against him, her hand loosely curled into the fabric of his shirt. At some point, she'd stopped trying to follow along and simply surrendered to sleep, trusting him to finish without her. Her breathing was slow and even, and there was a tiny crease between her eyebrows that he resisted the urge to smooth away.
Tim's smile softened. He carefully leaned forward, trying not to jostle her too much.
“Luce?”
She stirred, making a small, disgruntled noise before blinking up at him.
“Hmm?”
“Sorry, baby. Didn't mean to wake you.”
Lucy rubbed at one eye and glanced at the clock. “Are you done?”
“Yeah. Got it all.”
“See?” Her eyes were already drifting shut again. “Told you you'd get it.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “You did most of the work.”
“Mhm.” She yawned, apparently unconcerned with the distinction. “Well, are you ready for bed? We have to be up in a couple of hours.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Come on, then.”
She slid off his lap, stood, and held out her hand. Tim took it, letting her pull him to his feet, but just as she started towards the hallway, he tugged gently on their joined hands.
Lucy turned back, her eyebrows lifting in question. Before she could ask what he was doing, he drew her towards him and bent to kiss her.
It was soft, a simple press of his lips to hers but Lucy melted into him almost immediately, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug him closer.
For a few seconds, neither of them seemed particularly concerned about getting to bed. When he finally pulled back, Lucy looked up at him, a sleepy smile tugging at her mouth.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Just… thank you.”
Her expression softened, and she rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him once more.
“Always,” she whispered.
Then, placing her hand softly on his jaw, she added, “And for the record, you know you’re allowed to ask for help, right? You’re perfectly capable of doing this, Tim. You know that, and I know that. Struggling with something doesn’t change that.”
He looked at her, something in his chest loosening at the quiet certainty in her voice.
“And if sacrificing a little sleep means making your day a little easier, then I’m happy to do it.” Her smile turned teasing. “Besides, it’s not every day I get to be the one saving your ass.”
“I'm not sure I'd go that far.”
“Of course you wouldn't.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Now, come to bed before I start charging you for my services.”
Then she slipped her hand back into his and led him towards their bedroom.
Tim followed, switching off the living room light as they passed. The papers could wait until morning. He'd learned what he needed to learn, and for once, he didn't feel the need to prove anything else.
He just held on to Lucy's hand, grateful that the person who understood him best was also the person who never made him feel like he had to figure everything out alone.