Chapter Text
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
Tim stands at the edge of the dining table, watching Lucy fuss over every little detail. The food is already done; they both cooked and created a feast, despite him saying they didn’t need all that food. The house is clean. The candles are lit. Kojo has been given a stern warning that he absolutely did not understand.
Lucy still finds something to fix.
“No!” she immediately denies. “Think of it as...rewarding you for a job well done.”
“Well, Sergeant,” he teases. “You know I’m not one to take a bribe, no matter how tempting.”
She pulls away from where she’d been crowding him against the counter, pouting. “Clearly not tempting enough.”
She goes back to fussing over every little detail.
He leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms. He’s trying not to smile, because she’ll take it as permission to spiral harder, and he’s trying not to tell her to stop, because that will also make her spiral harder. He’s learning. Slowly.
He studies her for a beat, trying to decide if he should push, or if he should just let her burn the nervous energy off. She’s excited. He can see it under the anxiety, in the way she keeps glancing toward the front door, waiting for the bell.
“You’ve cleaned the whole house. You set the table twice. You re-folded napkins until I thought you were going to iron them. You made a menu. You made backups for the menu. You made a whole dessert situation that I’m not even allowed to look at for too long, because you said the frosting will ‘sense weakness’.” Tim pauses, watching her hover over the plates again. “If my family doesn’t like you after this, I’ll disown them.”
She finally looks at him, eyes wide and frantic.
“Don’t joke.”
“I’m not,” he says, and softens his tone. “I’m just saying, this is you. You’re already perfect.”
“I want your family to like me,” Lucy says frantically, adjusting the fork placement for the hundredth time.
“My family already adores you,” he tells her. “I think they love you more than me.”
“They do not,” she refutes.
“My mom thinks you hung the moon,” he points out. “Genny texts you more than she texts me. The kids ask about you before they ask about me.”
Her expression wavers, caught between disbelief and something softer that makes her swallow. Then, she blinks hard and looks away, unable to let it set for too long.
“She texts me because I answer,” she says, like it’s a reasonable explanation. “All of them do.”
Tim snorts. “That’s fair.”
“You really should respond to your mom more,” she chastises, having the excuse to bring up this little argument again.
He tilts his head. “She’s a little invasive.”
“A little?” Lucy repeats, incredulous, and then she rubs her forehead like she’s trying to erase the last month of texts from her brain. “She asked me what kind of toothpaste you use.”
He winces.
“And she asked if you sleep on your left side,” she adds, eyes narrowing. “And when I asked why she needed to know that, she said, so she knows if you’re comfortable.”
He winces even more. “Okay, but this is your fault,” he reminds her. “I had boundaries because of stuff like this.”
“No,” she quickly corrects. “She’s like this because she’s trying to make up for twenty-something years of knowing nothing.”
He makes a dubious face. “I really don’t think toothpaste brand would’ve ever come up naturally even if I was giving her a detailed account of my life.”
Lucy stares at him for a beat, lips parted like she’s about to argue, then she stops.
“Look, she likes feeling helpful,” he continues. “Just let her. It’ll be fine.”
Lucy’s eyes widen, as if she’s just realized something, and the panic begins to set in again. “Wait, so you’re saying I should’ve left something unfinished for her. Tim!”
He groans. “That’s not what I—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He’s tried warning her many times over the day, that she probably shouldn’t do literally everything, but he doesn’t think reminding her of that is going to help right now.
Lucy’s eyes dart around the room like she’s searching for something she can un-do. “What can I leave?” she whispers, urgent. “What can I mess up on purpose that won’t ruin everything?”
“Nothing,” he says immediately. “Because you’re not messing anything up on purpose.”
“Tim—”
“Lucy,” he says, steady, and the tone makes her stop mid-breath. “If she needs something to do, I’ll give her something to do. I’ll ask her to open the wine or something. You’re not failing some secret test. I don’t know why you’re so stressed about this. You know all of them already.”
She’s silent for a long moment. “I’m a little cursed with dinner parties, okay?” she finally gets out. “I mean, remember the whole Seth mess—?”
“That was bound to be a disaster the moment you agreed to it,” he reasons.
“And the one with my parents—”
“Which had nothing to do with the actual dinner,” he reminds her. “Your dad didn’t even show up.”
“And then there was this time in college where—”
“You were in college,” he deadpans. “I think that’s an answer in itself.”
She levels him with a withering look, before going back to checking the table.
“We’re done,” he tells her. “Sit. Or at least stop moving.”
She listens for a total of five seconds, before she double checks the salad fork placement.
He places his hand on hers, stilling her. “Lucy,” he says, trying to break through.
She slumps. “This is the first time hosting your family dinner,” she reminds him nervously. “I’m gonna be outnumbered five-to-one by Bradfords. It needs to be perfect.”
“My family is far from perfect, so you don’t need to be,” he reasons.
She huffs. “It’s different. I’m the outsider—”
“You’re a part of the family, too,” he tells her firmly. At this point, she’s basically a Bradford in all but name. Which, in truth, is something he’s been working on, prepared to change that whenever she’s ready. Lucy looks at him with awe, finally calming slightly. “It’s going to be fine, okay? Nothing is on fire. No one is bleeding. No one is getting arrested. We’re feeding my family. That’s it. We can do that.”
Her mouth twitches despite herself. “You really set the bar low.”
Tim kisses her, quick at first, trying to keep it light, given that they only have a few minutes before his family shows up.
Lucy, though, has other ideas. She makes a quiet sound, immediately deepening the kiss, rising onto her toes, pulling him closer until he’s boxed against the counter.
He lets her have it for a few seconds, lets her burn the nerves off the way he knows she—well, they both—like to, and then he breaks it with a small brush of his nose against hers.
“Breathe,” he murmurs.
She exhales, forehead tipping towards his. “I am breathing,” she lies, and he feels her smile against him.
He kisses her once more, slower, then pulls back enough to look at her. “You’re going to be great,” he reassures.
Lucy swallows, nodding, and then fixes the collar of his shirt.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s do this.”
Joy arrives first, with hugs and housewarming gifts that Tim has to keep himself from rolling his eyes at, but Lucy looks extremely excited about. Genny arrives about twenty minutes later, profusely apologizing for being late, cowering slightly at Tim’s glare, before throwing a similar glare at her children before promptly throwing them under the bus.
Austin tries to dart toward the bedroom door on instinct, with Tyler following, and Tim blocks them with a single look.
When they’re grabbing the food, and Joy is very distracted with her grandchildren and Kojo, Genny turns to Tim and Lucy with the most grateful expression. “Thank you for doing this,” she says. “I don’t think I could’ve handled Mom judging my cooking again.”
Lucy immediately rounds on Tim, and he holds up a finger. “She’s not judging your cooking,” he says. “Genny’s, sure, but that’s because she’s an awful cook.”
This doesn’t dissuade Lucy. “You think I’m an awful cook.”
“I don’t think that,” he denies.
The bickering doesn’t last too long, though, because Joy’s attention turns back on them, and soon thereafter, dinner is served.
Over the course of dinner, Tim finally sees the tension leave Lucy. Each time his mother compliments something—the food, the decor, whatever it was about the table mat he didn’t quite understand, but the women seemed very invested in—she settles more and more.
“You know, I haven’t asked,” Joy starts, smiling. “How did the two of you meet?”
He can see the excitement in Lucy’s eyes with that question, but she glances at him for permission.
“I was her training officer,” Tim answers carefully.
“Oh, so, her teacher?” Joy asks, delighted. “That explains it. You’ve always had a thing for smart women, Timmy. That is just... That is so romantic.”
“It is not romantic,” he says flatly.
Lucy coughs, covering a laugh. “It was not romantic,” she agrees, but her eyes are warm when she looks at him.
Joy presses a hand to her chest. “So, you were teaching her, guiding her—”
“Yelling at her,” Genny supplies, deadpan, and takes a sip of wine.
“Motivating her,” he corrects.
“Did you know right away?” Joy asks Lucy, eyes sparkling. “That you were going to fall in love with him?”
Lucy’s face goes pink, fast. Tim feels her knee bump his under the table, and he glances at her, keeping his expression calm.
She clears her throat slightly, huffing out a tiny laugh. “No,” she answers. “No, I definitely did not.”
“And you, Timmy?” Joy pushes more. “I mean, surely it was love at first sight.”
“It wasn’t,” Lucy quickly jumps in, a little awkwardly. She glances at him again. “Uh, I was his rookie about five years ago. He... We were both with other people at the time.”
Tim bows his head slightly. He’s told his mom a lot of the Isabel stuff by now, but she doesn’t know exactly how bad or absent the situation was towards the end. He’d told her, in vague terms, that Lucy helped him a lot. What she isn’t aware of, though, is that his wife was gone far before the divorce happened.
It’d be a little hard to explain at the dinner table.
“Yeah, and he was her teacher,” Genny says. “I don’t think romance was on the table.”
“I mean, what’s to stand in the way of true love?”
“Ethics,” Tim and Genny say simultaneously.
“Right,” Lucy says lightly, a little amused. “It was over a year after I made P2 that we... I don’t know, saw the potential, I guess.”
That’s oversimplifying things, Tim thinks idly. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when he first started feeling things for Lucy, but it definitely was before it had been appropriate. Actually, even their relationship had begun before it had been appropriate, though less so than if it had started when she’d been a rookie. But, well, he doesn’t think finding excuses to kiss a subordinate while undercover is exactly the most glamorous love story, but...
Well, it’s theirs.
“It was worth the risk,” Lucy says quietly, and he smiles.
Joy’s expression goes soft, almost tender. “Oh,” she says, like she’s been waiting to hear that for years. “That’s beautiful.”
“Alright,” Tim says, standing quickly with his plate, trying to redirect, “Who wants more?”
Getting up to grab another plate only delays the inevitable, apparently, because moments after he sits back down, his mother decides to pry some more.
“So, am I getting more grandkids from you anytime soon?”
Lucy chokes on her drink. Tim closes his eyes for a brief moment.
“Mom!” Genny scolds, scandalized. Then, sheepishly, she looks towards the couple for an answer.
Unfortunately, Tim doesn’t have one. He and Lucy have talked about it, of course. Many times, actually. But, it doesn’t feel right announcing that to the table when it was further up in their timeline—
“They’re not even married, grandma,” Austin says, giggling.
“Yeah, and they have Kojo,” Tyler adds innocently.
“Well, when are you getting married?” Joy asks, clearly not stopping her tirade. Then, she looks at Tim, like it’s his fault he can’t go back and already be married with kids. “I mean, you said this was very serious, you’re living together, and Lucy said you’ve been together for three years. Isn’t that enough time?”
Tim wants the world to open up and swallow him whole. When they’d talked about being more open, she had really gone the extra mile. He’s been keeping some boundaries, but Lucy’s been bombarded with text after text asking about every little detail, and Lucy doesn’t seem to have the heart to ignore her like he does. He’s surprised this line of questioning hasn’t already been approached, actually.
Lucy clears her throat a little awkwardly. “Well, Mrs. Bradford,” she starts diplomatically, “After the breakup, we’re still—”
“What breakup?”
Tim groans.
“Uncle Tim was stupid and didn’t believe in love—” Tyler starts.
“No, no,” Austin interjects. “Mom said that he didn’t think he deserved love, not that he didn’t believe—”
“Mom didn’t say anything that was supposed to be repeated,” Genny hisses out. “Zip. It.”
“But you two broke up?” Joy asks, looking heartbroken.
Tim inhales sharply, trying to figure out the right words to explain what happened.
“It was just a small break,” Lucy interjects. “We just needed some time to figure things out. We worked through it.”
He’s not sure why she’s lying about it, and lessening the way he broke her heart there, but he’s grateful for it anyway. It makes the pit in his stomach a little less heavy. Yet, there’s still an incredibly awkward silence.
Joy opens her mouth, clearly ready to ask a dozen follow up questions—
There’s a knock on the door.
“Thank God,” Tim breathes out, pushing away from the table as he stands.
Genny looks toward the entryway, confused. “Are we expecting someone else?”
“No,” he says automatically. Something does make him wary, honestly—the knock isn’t casual, but deliberate and official, which sets off a lot of alarms in his head—but a part of him is too relieved to get away from this conversation.
He’s already moving before anyone can ask again.
Tim sees the siren lights before he even opens the door, just through the entryway.
Well, this can’t be good.
He takes one breath, then pulls the door open just a little, keeping it to the point where his family can’t really see what’s going on from the dinner table.
He sees Grey first, standing firm on his porch, badge hung around his neck. Next, he sees Agent Garza, then Harper in uniform.
This most definitely isn’t a social call.
“Step outside,” Grey says quietly, regret in his tone as he glances inside. “And close the door.”
Tim listens, only because it’s his family inside, and he doesn’t need them overhearing whatever this might be. And, given by their faces, it’s not good. He keeps his hand on the edge of the door as he complies, pulling it shut behind him.
A million different options spin through his mind. Typically, he’d assume this would be the delivery of bad news, a loved one lost. But almost everyone he cares about is inside his house, safe and sound, and either way, he doesn’t think an FBI agent would be the one at his doorstep.
And, well, with the way they’re situated, instinctively ready for a fight...
They’re not here for a death notice.
Tim glances over at Harper, but all she does is shake her head slightly.
“What is this?” he asks.
“I’m sorry it has to be like this, Tim,” Grey says solemnly. “I’m afraid we have no choice.”
The door creaks open again, with Lucy quickly stepping out to join him, before closing the door again.
“Hey, what’s—”
She pauses as she sees everyone standing, and the patrol cars at the curb with lights spinning silently. Her expression changes in a heartbeat—warmth dropping away, eyes going sharp as she takes in Grey, Garza, Harper and their stances.
Lucy’s hand finds Tim’s forearm automatically, grounding herself and him at the same time. She looks up at Tim first, searching his face for context he clearly doesn’t have, then snaps her eyes back to Grey.
Grey’s gaze softens when he looks at her, but his posture stays official. “Sergeant Chen,” he says quietly. “You should stay inside.”
She doesn’t budge. “What’s happening?”
For a beat, no one speaks. Everyone seems to stare each other down, no one exactly wanting to admit what’s about to happen here. Tim has the sinking feeling he knows, just because of how everyone is reacting.
Garza’s the one that speaks up next.
“We have a warrant for Sergeant Bradford’s arrest.”