10K words of flirting, smirking, dog pictures, and finally getting it right.

Spoilers through 2x14: Casualties

Title from Rolling On by Israel Nash.

Thanks to Amanda for literally editing as I wrote. You're the real MVP.

I'm fromiftowhen on Tumblr. Let's be friends!

"You guys hungry? Something about black ops at midnight makes me really need a 2AM burger," Nolan says as they're all gathering their stuff to head out to the parking garage.

Gray left an hour ago and the paperwork is as perfect as it's going to get. Lopez took off a few minutes ago to go home to Wesley, and Tim glances around at the four of them left.

Honestly, he could eat. He'd rather be in bed, but food sounds like a good distraction before what will probably be a night of restless sleep anyway, even though he's exhausted and his adrenaline is about to wear off.

He glances at Lucy and she shrugs and looks at Harper, who surprisingly nods.

"Ike's is open," she says, shrugging her jacket on. "Boot, you drove. You'll have to take me back to my car after."

"Not a problem," Nolan grins. Tim has more respect for the guy than he used to, but sometimes he is just too eager to please.

They walk out to the parking garage and he watches Lucy glance between his truck and Nolan's a few spaces away.

"C'mon, Boot," he says, unlocking the doors and holding hers open.

He watches her hop in and fidget with his overhead light while he walks around the front of the cab. The light illuminates her face as she looks in the visor mirror and combs through her hair. He tears his eyes away as he gets in and puts the truck in gear.

"Once you're done primping, we can go," he says, catching the eye roll she gives the mirror.

"We're gonna be here a while, then," she says, biting her lip and combing through a tangle. She's been his shotgun rider for months now, but always in uniform, her hair safely tied in a bun. Never in tight fitting jeans with her hair wild in the passenger seat of his truck. It's not a bad sight.

"You look fine," he offers, and she smirks.

"Thanks, Sarge," she says, closing the visor and turning to him. The nickname catches him off guard and he has to look away for a moment.

It feels like a lot, given the day they've had and how barely a week ago she was calling him Sergeant, congratulatory and proud.

"Cute," he chides, following Nolan and Harper out of the garage.

—

They're basically the only ones in the diner in the middle of the night. Nolan asks about Kojo while they eat, and Lucy glances over at him quickly.

The photos are burning a hole on his phone basically, but he doesn't budge. He doesn't think she made the right choice, but this one can stay between them.

"He's a sweet boy. He needed some love and I feel better with a little extra muscle around, so it was good timing," she says.

Nolan starts telling what sounds to Tim like a true horror story about taking his son to adopt an old Lab from the shelter when he was little. It sounds like a life lesson, and Tim's had a few too many of those lately. He zones out and moves a few fries around his plate.

Lucy's still working on her burger, so he dumps the pickles he'd pulled off his burger onto her plate while Nolan talks. She smiles at him and Tim glances up just in time to catch Harper watching them.

They eat lunch together every shift. Sue him if he knows how she likes her food. It's automatic, it's casual. It makes her smile and sometimes, as hard as it's been to admit to himself, that's all that gets him through a hard shift.

He sits back and tunes into Nolan's story, extending his arm over the back of the booth behind Lucy. The ends of her hair brush over the fabric of his jacket and Harper gives him a barely contained smirk.

She's smart. She clearly has good instincts. She'd helped Lucy more than he'd been able to a couple times, and he respects her for that. But she's watching him like she knows some secret he isn't even sure he knows himself yet.

It's a little annoying.

Nolan yawns in the middle of his story and Harper finally glances away from Tim.

"C'mon, Boot. Take me back to my car before you fall asleep." She glances at her watch. "I have to be up in four hours. It's my day to take my daughter to school," she says.

They stand, and Tim would probably go too, but Lucy, maybe the world's slowest eater, is still working on her food.

Harper glances between them and levels Tim with a stare before directing her attention to Lucy.

"Chen, you okay getting back to your car?" She asks. Tim respects her even more now. She has to get that Lucy trusts him, but she's smart enough to give her an out.

"Yeah, thanks," Lucy says, pointing her napkin at Tim. "He's used to my slow eating."

Harper nods and shoots him another look, but he can't quite read this one.

Nolan smiles and bids them goodnight and Tim switches over to the other side of the booth while Harper's still in eyeshot.

Lucy glances up as he settles back in.

"You're not in a rush, are you? I can take this to go."

He shakes his head. As dumb as it sounds, he's used to watching her eat. It's relaxing, and sometimes it's the only time she isn't asking him questions or personal details or running through procedure with him.

He could tell her to hurry up and he'd be home and in bed in half an hour, but he knows he wouldn't sleep. Seeing Mitch almost spun him out. Knowing they parted on bad terms again makes him question if they'll even get the chance to run into one another in the future. He knows if he thinks on it enough, something will come to him.

iThe master of subversive tests and tricks,/i Lucy had called him. He knows it was a compliment. Six months ago, he wouldn't have been so sure.

"Hey," she says, interrupting his train of thought. "You okay? You look a little too… Officer Bradford-y and not enough Tim."

He stares at her. "Uniform doesn't make the man, Boot. Even out of uniform I'm still Officer Bradford."

She lets her eyes linger over his henley and jacket, none too subtle. She purses her lips and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She's either fully aware of what she looks like when she does that and is more calculating than he's ever given her credit for, or she has no clue what that face does to him every single time.

"Oh, I know," she assures him. "I just meant. It was kind of a weird day and it'd be okay if you… weren't okay."

He nods. Being psychoanalyzed by his rookie at 2AM isn't ever going to be on his list of must-dos, but he knows she means well.

"I'm okay," he says.

"Life is wild sometimes," she says, glancing out the window. In the dark, passing headlights cast shadows across the window and ghost over her face. "People start out in the same place and end up living totally different lives."

He just watches her silently.

"You know you're not responsible for what happened to him, right? You both did something incredibly brave every day and no one could have changed what happened."

He runs a hand over his face. This feels too close to home for them to be talking about, alone, at 2AM.

"Look, I was responsible for him, but we were basically kids, far away from home in a never ending adrenaline rush. They all… we all became family, and I got too close."

She's watching him talk, but the way she's looking at him feels like a test, like there's only one right answer she'll accept. iI know I'm not responsible for what happened./i

"I let myself get too close and forgot my role and ultimately that put him in danger. I told myself it wouldn't happen again after that, and I became a better leader for it."

She's quiet for a moment, just looking at him.

"You can let guilt go, you know, Tim. You don't have to carry it just because you're strong enough to. You weighing yourself down doesn't lessen the weight of pain or trauma for anyone else."

He nods, holding her gaze. "I wish it did, though."

He watches her inhale and exhale slowly, putting the pieces together. She's smart. She knows the conversation subtly shifted and she's on display again.

"Tim —"

"Honey, do you all need anything else over here? I just put on a new pot of coffee," their waitress asks, appearing at the table. He's never been more grateful for an interruption.

He glances at Lucy and she shakes her head.

"I think we're good, but thanks," he says. "I'll never sleep if I have more caffeine at 2AM."

The waitress glances at Lucy and winks before turning her gaze back to Tim. "Doll, I don't think she'd complain. God knows I wouldn't."

He watches Lucy bite her lip and glance away as the waitress leaves them alone.

"Good ilord,/i does every woman flirt with you?"

He smirks at her and shrugs. "Not ievery/i woman."

"I think you're just missing the more subtle ones," she says, and it's quiet and smiley and too real for this basically empty diner.

He clears his throat and reaches for his money clip.

"You sure you don't want anything else?"

She nods, but he doesn't miss the way her eyes flicker momentarily to his lips.

She thinks he doesn't notice the subtle ones, but they're the ones that keep him up at night.

"C'mon," he says, tossing a few bills on the table. "Let's get you home to that Tasmanian devil of a dog."

"Here, I can —" she's reaching for her wallet as she stands, but he stops her with a hand on her arm. He shakes his head.

"I'm the reason you're here at 2AM, you can at least let me buy you a meal."

She glances down at his hand on her arm. "You're the reason I'm here at all," she says, quietly, following him out of the restaurant.

—

"Did West ever respond to you?" He asks, watching her check her phone as he buckles his seatbelt. She'd texted him a few times after he'd hung up on her. Tim knows she feels horrible.

"No," she sighs. "He's hopefully sleeping now."

"Think Kojo can outdo himself again? Even innocent crime scenes aren't funny after 2AM." He pulls out into the street and immediately catches a red.

"Ugh, I don't know. Jackson might be mad at me, but he's not heartless, so at least I know he's been outside by now."

He watches her out of the corner of his eye at the light.

She turns to him, shifting in her seat so her feet are underneath her.

"Don't get gloaty about this, but I think you were right." She sighs as the light turns green and he accelerates.

He glances at her quickly. "A. I don't gloat. And B. I'm right about iso many things,/i Boot. Which one specifically?"

"I think I'm probably not ready for a dog. And I feel horrible about Jackson's stuff. I'm going to have to call the shelter in the morning and take him back."

"Weren't you just fostering? They can't just send him to another family?"

She shakes her head. "I got the impression he'd been waiting a while for someone to really want him."

"Poor boy," he says, frowning.

Lucy smirks at him. "Oh my god, you ido/ love dogs."

"I'm not a monster, Boot. Dogs are better than most people. Our squadron had an IED detection dog for a while. Best coworker I ever had," he says, slowing down for a yellow light.

"Gee, thanks," she says, laughing. "You totally could have made that light," she adds.

He looks at her. He could have, it's true. Sitting next to her in the dark cab of his truck feels intimately different from the normal 12 hours he spends a console away from her, and he wants time to stretch out. "I know."

She shivers slightly, like she's got a chill, and he reaches to adjust the air. "Cold?"

She shakes her head. "No, Tim. I'm not cold."

"Okay." Maybe he actually wants time to speed up. If she keeps looking at him like that, no feeling of responsibility or guilt toward her will be able to stop him from leaning over the console and kissing her.

A car honks behind him and he glances up. The light is green.

—

"Just around the corner," she says, directing him to her car. The block behind Nolan's house is quiet and dark in the middle of the night, no streetlights in the section where she'd parked.

He pulls to a stop behind her car and cuts the engine. She's still sitting sideways in her seat, and she's been quietly watching him drive for the couple minutes it took to get here.

"You're a good driver, Tim."

He gives her a questioning look.

"You're responsible and focused and you pay attention."

He nods, still unsure where she's going.

"They're all traits that make you a good leader. And an excellent cop. But you're a good man, too. Being a little fallible and showing some humanity aren't negatives and they don't make bad things happen. It's okay to let things go."

"It might be okay, but it's not easy," he says.

"Good things rarely are," she says, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching down to get her bag. "But Tim Bradford isn't afraid of a little hard work."

"Neither is Lucy Chen."

She smiles, soft and genuine. "No, she's really not."

It feels like this could be a moment if he let it.

She turns back to him. "Thanks for letting us come with you and Harper earlier. I know that putting me and Nolan in that position could have cost you a lot," she says.

"More than you know."

She smiles, but it's unsteady and slow, like she's a little off balance. "Okay," she says, opening the door. "Time to go make peace with giving Kojo back."

He gives her a small wave and watches her cross in front of his truck to her car.

Damnit.

He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door, the sound causing her to turn around quickly.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, knowing he caught her off guard. He puts his hands in his pockets and just looks at her.

She shakes her head. "You okay?"

"A dog is a lot of responsibility."

She looks at him like he's dumb. "Yeah, Tim, iI know./i We spent all day talking about this."

"I'm a responsible man. I love dogs."

She nods, giving him a questioning look.

"Boot, I'm saying I'll take the damn dog."

He's never seen her smile faster or bigger.

He holds up a hand. "I have a few conditions."

She grins, her eyes darting away from him for just a moment, bright and twinkly even in the dark. "Of course you do."

"If I go out of town, he's your responsibility. If he eats my signed Rams jersey, you owe me a lot of favors. And if he ever, ever gets sprayed by a skunk, you're taking him back."

She's still smiling. "The skunk thing is debatable, but the rest is totally doable."

He nods, but she still has that overwhelmed, totally overwhelming smile on her face.

"Oh my god, Tim. Ugh, I could kiss you," she says, crossing the few feet between them. He tenses, not entirely sure what he's preparing for. But she just raises on her tiptoes and puts her arms around his neck, leaning into his body.

"Thank you," she whispers.

He hugs her back, one hand wrapping around her waist, the other smoothing over her hair.

It's quick and over before he can really memorize it, but the look on her face as she pulls away is enough.

"Yeah, okay," he says. "Go get some sleep and call me in the morning. We'll figure it out."

She glances over her shoulder at him as she walks away, and he definitely has no idea what he's gotten himself into.

"Get home safe," she calls, closing her door behind her.

"You too." He watches her drive off and puts the truck in gear. He wonders if there's a 24 hour pet store around.

—

He's waiting for her outside the locker room before roll call their next shift.

"Boot, do I look different to you this morning?"

She glances down his body and the long line of his typical jeans and jacket combo. He looks good, as always, but it's a little weird he's not in uniform yet.

"You seem to be running a little late, but I see you're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as always."

He glares.

"Oooor not," she says, arranging her utility belt as they walk. "Why?" She asks.

"So I don't look like a fire hydrant, say, or a really nice stretch of grass?"

"Oh. iOh no,/i" she says, trying desperately not to laugh. She fails as his glare intensifies.

"Did you iforget/i to tell me the devil dog isn't totally house trained?"

"In my defense, I didn't have him long enough to truly know. That might have been mentioned when they dropped him off to me, though."

"Of course it was," he says, stopping in front of the men's locker room. He crosses his arms and takes a few steps closer to her, his height always an alluring advantage he knows exactly how to use.

"Oh, you're in iso much trouble,/i" he warns, smirking at her.

"Bring it on," she grins, backing away to head toward roll call.

—

Over the next few months, as her training wraps up, Lucy learns a lot about Tim. Not Officer Bradford, the tough, calculating man she works next to twelve hours a day. But iTim,/i who he is when his guard is down between calls and how he acts early in the morning pre-caffeine, and how he's really just a softie who loves a good cuddle.

He shows her pictures. At first, begrudgingly, when she asks for them. And then without request, at all times of the day.

"Look at this smart boy," he says one day, showing her a picture of Kojo waiting patiently for food.

"Look at this idiot," he says the next day, showing her a blurry video of Kojo running through the living room, his coat wet and lathered in soap.

—

He texts her at 6AM one morning, and her heart races at his name on the screen.

iI just ran four blocks because your dog managed to dig out under the fence and take a pre-dawn run. You owe me Nevin's this morning./i

iNot my dog, you signed the papers. No take backs./i She replies, laughing in the early morning light.

iOne cream, one sugar,/i is all she gets in response, as if she doesn't know his coffee order by heart.

—

iWhat's my boy doing?/i she texts him late one night after a particularly rough shift. She needs a dose of Kojo.

Her phone lights up and her stomach drops.

iHe's sleepy,/i is all it says, but a picture is worth a thousand words.

Tim's in bed, shirtless, which already is too much to handle, but Kojo is his little spoon, wedged right up against his chest, sound asleep. Tim's arm is resting on the dog's chest and he's glaring at the camera, but Lucy's been on the receiving end of enough Tim glares that she doesn't buy it as genuine. It's heart-stoppingly cute.

iThat should be illegal,/i she responds, and then remembers she still has to pass her probational year. iHow cute Kojo looks, obviously, /i she sends quickly.

iObviously.

His snoring is definitely against a couple sound ordinances, however.

I'm sure he'd say the same thing about you,/i she sends, laughing. iThought he wasn't allowed on the furniture./i

iSeems he's either gonna chew it or sleep on it, so I'm picking my battles. /i

iIt's okay if you just want a cuddle, Tim, you can admit it 😉,/i she sends, scrolling back up to look at the picture.

iFunny. Taking the dummy to Baldwin Hills for a walk early in the morning. Feel like joining?/i

She bites her lip. One time last month, right before he and Rachel had broken up, Lucy had met them and Kojo for lunch. Besides that, she's not seen Tim casually outside of work since the morning he came to get Kojo from her apartment.

It's all felt too tempting. He smiles at her too easily now and even though he's still clearly her training officer, his voice has lost a lot of that hard edge. He watches her a lot, and she admits she only knows that because she's usually watching him first.

The pull is too strong though, and she could use some puppy cuddles of her own. She hasn't found a good replacement for the one night of Kojo cuddles she got… but she hasn't really been looking, either.

iYes, please,/i she sends back.

—

Tim and Kojo are leaning against the tailgate of his truck when she pulls into the overlook parking lot the next morning.

She gets out of the car and Tim lets Kojo's leash go as she gets closer. She braces herself for him to jump, but he just sits at her feet and barks, so she kneels down to hug him.

"Hey, boy, hey strong boy. I missed you," she says, scratching behind his ears and burying her face in his fur. "Did you have a good sleep? You looked so cozy. I wasn't at all jealous," she whispers against his fur.

Tim's watching her as she stands, and she thinks maybe he'll hug her, but he hands her a cup of coffee instead. It's nearly as good.

"Hey, thanks. Morning," she says, taking a sip.

"Good morning," he says, picking up Kojo's leash. His eyes linger on her hips as he straightens back up, and she feels slightly exposed in a flirty, dangerous way. She'd opted for comfort in workout leggings and a cropped sweatshirt. It's nothing he hasn't seen her in at the gym, but maybe it feels like more — or less— in public.

"Are we walking or jogging?" He asks, handing Kojo's leash to her.

"Oh, unless I'm chasing a suspect, I don't go above a brisk walk," she says, shaking her head. Kojo pulls slightly on the leash and they head off toward a trail.

"I could argue that even when chasing a suspect, you don't go above a brisk walk, but I'm trying to be a nicer person," he says.

"Keep trying, pal." She glances over at him and smiles at the annoyed look on his face.

They walk in silence for a couple minutes. The view is really something. She's lived here her whole life and still always finds something new to appreciate.

Kojo is walking slightly ahead of her, between their bodies, and Tim stops her when Kojo pulls on the leash a few times in a row.

"Oh, hey, hang on," he says, his hand spanning the small of her back. "Sorry. We're working on iwalking nicely on a leash,"/i he says in a voice that she knows Kojo is supposed to recognize. Kojo looks up at him like he's heard that about a thousand times.

"Ideally, he should be able to walk beside you off leash and not run off. But we're still… a good ways off from that." He bends down and adjusts Kojo's collar, straightening the leash. "For now," he says, looking directly at the dog, "we'll work on not pulling the pretty lady down."

He pats Kojo on the head as he stands and flashes a small smile. Lucy isn't sure which one of them it's for, but she'll take it either way.

"Just keep his leash up, like this," he says, sliding his hand over hers to gather up some slack and keep Kojo at her side.

She shivers as she nods her understanding, and he glances down at her hand.

"Cold?" He whispers, and if she had been, the way he's looking at her would have solved that.

She shakes her head. "No," she whispers back, and every part of her feels like it's on fire. She's rapid-fire weighing the pros and cons of saying screw it and kissing him right this second (ihe's your superior, but he looks like that, he could fail you, but he's still looking at you like that, it could ruin everything, but.../i) when Kojo barks and whines up at her. Tim breaks their gaze and looks down at the dog with barely contained annoyance.

"What's up, bud? Did I promise you a good walk and we're just standing here?"

Kojo whines again and Lucy laughs. "I think that's a yes. Come on, good boy," she says, holding his leash taut to keep him at her side.

"Two more weeks," Tim says a few minutes later. They're facing the Hollywood sign as they walk, and she thinks about how it feels like forever ago that they all sat in roll call and watched Nolan climb the sign. She feels like she's aged five years.

Two weeks from now she'll be starting her last shift as a rookie.

"Yep," she says, a hint of nervousness creeping into her voice.

"You ready?" He asks, putting a hand on her back again to guide her and Kojo around a steep dip in the gravel.

"Thanks," she says, missing the weight of his hand on her back as soon as he moves it. "That seems like more of a question for my training officer, though." She glances at him as they walk. He's already looking back.

"You know by now that I don't ask you questions I don't already know the answer to."

She nods.

"I think so," she says. "Statistically, if I can survive a serial killer, I can handle anything."

"Yeah," he agrees. "You're as ready as you can be."

"That doesn't sound quite as confident as I'd like," she says, stopping to let Kojo sniff off the trail.

"You're ready, Boot. But you can't be prepared for everything, and it takes awhile to get used to not having someone there whose only job is to be that little voice in the back of your mind."

"Trust me, the little voice in the back of my mind that sounds like you is there all the time and about as subtle as a grenade." She smiles at him and he laughs, a genuine, head tossed back charmer of a laugh.

"Good," he says. "Maybe it'll stick around." Kojo whines and looks up at him and Tim bends down to scratch behind his ears. "You're being good, you thirsty?"

Lucy watches him pull the backpack he's been carrying off his shoulders and pull out a bottle of water and a small travel bowl.

Kojo laps at the water and Tim sits down next to him on the trail. Lucy watches him pet Kojo as she sits down beside them.

"He's kinda lazy when he's not destroying property, I'm surprised he made it this far without a break," Tim says.

"I'm endlessly charmed by you carrying a travel bowl around for the dog you refer to as the devil."

He chuckles. "The boy's gotta drink. But, yeah, uh. Rachel insisted on it, and it just kinda stuck after."

"Oh," she says. They've never really talked about her directly. She only found out they broke up because Rachel told her, but she never got many details. "You okay with.. all of that?"

"I am. We both knew it wasn't a long haul thing. But it was fun to focus on, destress a little in a healthy way. And now I feel… ready," he says, looking over at her. His eyes flick to her lips so quickly she can barely register it, but it's there.

"Ready for what?" She whispers. She thinks she might know.

"For whatever happens next," he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into it, closing her eyes. It's barely a touch but it's exactly all she can handle in public. She tightens her hand on the leash as Tim's thumb brushes over her cheek, just catching the edge of her lips. Kojo barks when he's accidentally pulled away from his bowl, and Lucy opens her eyes as Tim's hand falls away.

She swears she hears him mutter under his breath as she loosens her grip on the leash.

"Sorry, bud," she says. "God, I always forget how gorgeous it is out here," she says, looking out over the horizon. It's for lack of anything else safe to look at. If she looks at him too long, lines she won't let herself cross right now will become distant memories.

"Yeah," he says, softly. "It is." She risks a glance at him, but she's caught. He wasn't looking at the horizon at all.

—

The next two week are actual agony. Her nerves about leaving training are reaching new heights, and it's not helped by the fact that every time Tim looks at her, or talks to her, or sends her pictures of Kojo late at night, her pulse races. Every time she watches him drive, his fingers steady on the wheel, she thinks about hugging him in the dark on a side street and his thumb just catching the corner of her lips. It's maddening.

When she goes to grab their gear on the last day of training, Tim is waiting. As the officer hands over their war bags, Tim grabs one and slings it over his shoulder. Lucy just stares.

"What? I can carry a bag, Boot. Consider it your last day of training gift," he says. "Now hurry up."

He tosses her the keys as they walk out to the shop, and she barely catches them in her surprise.

"Wait, what? Am I driving?"

He rolls his eyes. "I think you're ready. Consider it your last day of training gift," he says, settling in the passenger seat.

"Yes, sir," she says, grinning at him.

It happens a few more times over the course of the shift.

He pays for lunch. iConsider it your last day of training gift./i

He pursues a suspect on foot and lets her stay behind with the first one. iConsider it your last day of training gift,/i he'd said, coming back barely winded.

When she sits down to complete their end of shift paperwork, he surprises her by sitting down too, handing her a soda, and taking half the stack. iConsider it your last day of training gift./i

"How are you and Nolan and West celebrating tonight?" He asks, a few minutes into his stack.

"We're not, actually. We're going out tomorrow night since we all have a few days off, and Nolan's son will be here and Sterling will be home, so we figured it was a better choice."

He nods. "What about iyou?/i Have any plans tonight?"

She glances up. He's still focused on his paperwork. His complete focus on the task in front of him will be the death of her, she's pretty sure.

"I… do not," she says, a question in her voice.

"Hmm," he says, not looking up from his paperwork.

i Maddening. /i

"Kojo was asking about you the other day," he says, a couple minutes later.

She watches him for a moment. "Oh?"

He nods.

"The idog/i was asking about me, Tim?"

He finally puts down his pen and looks at her. "Well, he's half yours."

She blinks at him.

"He got you a gift. To celebrate your last day of training."

"Kojo, ithe dog,/i got me a gift?" She smirks at him, and almost loses it when he smirks right back.

"Isn't that what I just said? Do you have any actual human friends named Kojo, Boot?"

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Then yes. Kojo got you a gift. iThis,"/i he gestures to the paperwork spread out in front of him, "is imy/i gift to you."

"Okay. Well, it would be rude of me to ignore a gift. Will Kojo be home later?"

He smiles, a quick quirk of his lips as he looks back down at his paperwork. It's maddening and intoxicating and she wants to stare for idays./i

"I think his schedule is free, sure."

"You ithink/i his schedule— no, okay. Sure. You let Kojo know I'll stop by tonight, Tim."

"I'll make sure he pencils you in," he says, not taking his eyes off his paperwork. "Finish your paperwork, Boot."

She has no clue how she made it 13 months with him.

—

Kojo starts barking while he's in the kitchen, and he hears the doorbell a moment later.

"Sit, boy," he commands. Kojo sits as he unlocks the door and when he opens it, Lucy is standing on the other side. iFinally./i

"Hey," she says, smiling at him. "Hey, bud! Hey, Kojo!"

"Sorry, we're working on manners. Kojo, here." He points to Lucy. "Come tell her congratulations."

Kojo runs over and stops at Lucy's side and looks up.

"Hey bud! Look at you! Missed you!" He watches Lucy sit on the floor in his living room and let the dog crawl all over her. Kojo puts his paws on her legs and buries his snout in her hair and Tim listens to her laugh, loud and bright.

He wants to hear it here, in his house, as long as he possibly can.

Kojo sits back on the floor and Lucy pushes her hair out of her face.

"C'mon, Koj. Let her up, man," he says, holding out a hand to help her up.

"Thanks," she smiles, her eyes taking in his living room. He doesn't miss the way she lets their hands linger together for a moment as she takes a couple steps into the room.

"You've seen my apartment after this tornado blew through there, but I've somehow never been here," she says.

"First time for everything," he says, looking around at the decor. It's pretty much exactly how Isabel left it, minus their wedding pictures, which he took down shortly after he visited her in rehab. It's never felt empty since then, but watching Lucy walk around, he's aware that it's never felt more full of life than it does in this moment.

She smiles over her shoulder at him. "It's nice," she says.

"Thanks. Want a beer?"

She turns back to him and grins. "Please."

Kojo barks as Tim leads her to the kitchen and Lucy puts a hand out to scratch behind his ears as she settles at the kitchen bar.

Tim opens a couple beers and hands her one, sitting on the stool next to her.

"Thank you," she says.

"You're welcome." It's quiet for a minute except the sound of Kojo's collar and tags jangling as he tries to settle at their feet.

"So," he says, reaching across the counter and sliding her a small box.

She smirks at him. "Kojo couldn't wrap it?"

"Shh. Don't make him feel bad about his lack of opposable thumbs."

She nods. "Sorry, bud." He watches her open the box carefully, more nervous than he thought he'd be.

"Oh," she says, running her fingers over the intricate carvings of the push knife. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Kojo," she says, bending down to pet him. "Thank iyou/i," she says, looking back up at him.

"You're welcome," he says. "I get all my rookies the same gift at the end of training. It's just easier, practical. But —"

"But?" She asks, tracing her finger over the handle.

"This, uh. This one was mine," he says, watching her glance up at him quickly. He holds her gaze.

"I got it while I was deployed for the first time. It's been everywhere with me, Iraq and Afghanistan, everywhere in between. I've carried it every single shift for twelve years, today included. I've never had to use it, and I hope you won't either. But —" he stops as she stands suddenly. "You okay?"

She shakes her head, stepping closer to him. Her eyes are bright, dancing in the low light of his kitchen.

"God, I could kiss you," she says, running her thumb over his cheek.

"You could, now." He swallows.

She smiles, nodding. "I can."

She leans in closer and he smiles and lets her kiss the grin away. She kisses him slowly and lets her nails run over the back of his neck. She's smiling against his lips as she pulls back slightly.

He finally, finally lets himself touch her, curving his hand around her waist. "You okay?" He asks again, quieter this time.

She shakes her head again, biting at her lip and glancing away. Coy, smiley. Happy. "Not quite yet."

He smirks at her and reaches out to tangle a hand in her hair. He pulls her closer with the hand on her waist so she's standing between his legs and kisses her for a long minute, biting gently at her bottom lip before moving lower.

She breathes out a shaky breath against his skin and he smiles against the curve of her neck.

"So responsive," he whispers, pressing blunt teeth against her skin as she shivers. He runs the hand on her waist down, over her hips, and up, under the fabric of her shirt.

His hand moves up her body, his fingers spanning her back and his thumb brushing over the skin just below her bra. The way she bites her lip and glances away, nervous for the first time, he knows he's skimming the dated ink on her skin.

"I can stop," he says, stilling his hand.

She shakes her head, locking eyes with him. "But I can't."

He kisses her, standing and shifting her body so she's pressed against the edge of the bar. He brushes his thumb over her smooth skin, edging the fabric of her shirt up with each stroke.

She leans forward into his body and away from the bar, bringing her hands down to grasp the bottom of her shirt. She smirks at him and lifts it up over her head, tossing it aside. It lands on the floor and he has to tear his eyes away from her.

"I don't want to do anything but look at you, but. One sec," he says, walking the few feet away to grab her shirt.

"I'm not putting that back on," she says, defiant as ever.

"Damn right you're not," he says, kissing her neck as soon as he's close enough again. "But Kojo iwill/i chew it." He tosses the shirt on the bar behind them and returns his hands to her skin. He watches her face as his thumb brushes over her tattoo again, gauging her response.

She closes her eyes and inhales slowly, and he sinks silently to his knees. He ghosts his lips over the numbers inked into her skin and she gasps, opening her eyes to watch.

"Okay?" He asks, just a breath of a word against her skin.

She nods, trailing her fingers through his hair. He smiles and presses a kiss to each number, watching her reaction the whole time. It's slow, gentle, like every fiber of his soul isn't on fire. She shivers the whole time, covering his hand against her hip.

When he reaches the last number, he looks up at her again. Her eyes are open, tears glistening at the edges. He trails his lips back up her body, over the lace of her bra, up her neck as he stands. He's so tall and so close she has to look up at him, and he runs his thumb over her bottom lip.

"You're not supposed to cry, Lucy," he says, quietly.

She chokes out a laugh, the tip of her tongue brushing against his thumb. "Just happy, overwhelmed tears, I swear."

"Yeah?"

"Promise," she says, biting at the pad of his thumb lightly and reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him fully.

She presses against him, the height difference putting her off balance in the best way. She trails a hand up over his chest to the buttons of his henley, slipping them apart one by one. She presses her lips to the exposed skin, and he tangles a hand in her hair, wrapping the long strands around his fingers.

"You know," she says, trailing her lips up to his neck. "It's extremely rude to wear these shirts with all these buttons and literally never wear them unbuttoned at all."

"Noted," he says, letting his hand trail down her body to her hip and pulling her closer against him.

She bites at his earlobe, tougher than he thought she'd be. He hisses, a good, blissed out noise, and she laughs, skimming her hands up under the fabric of his shirt. She inches the fabric up and he watches her face. Her nails trail up the revealed skin and he shivers, a full body response that makes her laugh. Her eyes light up as he watches her, and he can't do anything but lean down to kiss her.

She rucks the fabric up over his chest and he raises his arms, pulling back only long enough to get the shirt off and toss it with hers on the bar.

She trails her hands up his chest and up to his jaw, moving his head so she can look directly at him.

"Remind me why we weren't doing this before now?"

He shakes his head, already needing his lips on her skin again. "Something about rules," he murmurs. "I can't remember now."

"Mhmm," she says, trailing her lips down over his chest. She drags her teeth over a nipple and he groans, the loudest noise in the room since all this started.

Kojo's collar jangles as he whines and stands up, pressing his wet nose against Tim's jeans.

"Not now, bud," he mutters, fisting a hand in Lucy's hair as she drags her teeth back up his neck. She laughs against his skin.

Kojo whines, a happy bark, his nails tapping on the hardwood. He tries to push his body in between them, and Lucy finally pulls back.

Her face is flushed, her lips bitten-red and plush. "Does he need to go out?"

Tim glances at him and smiles. "No, he's just jealous you're paying me attention and not him."

"Oh," she says. "You have to teach him to share."

"Not now," he shakes his head, pressing a hand against her stomach and sliding it up over the swell of her breast. He presses his thumb over the lace of the bra at her nipple, and she closes her eyes.

Kojo whines again, trying to fit between them and the barstools, and Lucy laughs. It turns to a moan as Tim presses against her nipple again, his lips trailing down over her collarbone.

"Hey," she says. It's quiet, like she doesn't really want him to hear or stop.

He breaths against her skin, looking up at her.

"I assume your bedroom has a door?"

He nods, standing up and pressing his lips to her cheek. He reaches down and entangles their fingers, pulling her out from the kitchen.

"It even has a bed," he teases, walking backward toward his room, not taking his eyes off the easy sway of her hips as she follows him. Kojo jangles along behind them, and he pulls Lucy in the room before turning back to the dog.

"Sit," he commands. Kojo sits, a resigned look in his eyes. "Good boy."

He closes the door and turns back to Lucy. "Sit," he commands, just a fraction softer.

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't think it would actually work," he says, smiling at her. He circles around her, fingertips skimming her waist. His back is to the bed and he tries to pull her closer, but she stands her ground.

Kojo's nails scratch at the door and she glances behind her. "He can't open doors, can he?"

He shakes his head, laughing. "No?"

"Good," she says, locking eyes with him. He watches her toe off her shoes and work at the buttons of her jeans, shimmying them down her hips and off, not taking her eyes off him as she steps out of the pooled fabric. He'd been too mesmerized to move a muscle.

"Remind me why we weren't doing this before now?" He echoes her earlier question and she smiles.

She comes within arm's reach and he pulls her closer with a hand on her hip, his fingers pulling at the fabric of her panties. It's intoxicating.

She looks up at him as her fingers trail down his stomach. He inhales as she stops at his belt, quick fingers working the leather through the holes and apart.

"Something about me being basically required to call you "sir" not even twelve hours ago," she says, pressing her palm against him as she works the buttons apart.

"You could still do that," he grins, unable to look away as she pushes his jeans down his body. He steps out of them and closer to her.

She stops him with a hand on his chest, and pushes him back a few steps so his body hits the bed. She presses his shoulders down, her nails digging in, and he goes easily, settling on the edge of the bed.

"Don't push your luck, iSergeant Bradford,"/i she says, putting a knee on the bed to straddle him.

It's over for him then, as if he ever stood a chance. He gets a hand on her ass and pulls her flush against him, smirking against her shoulder as she moans.

He reaches back and unhooks her bra, tossing it aside, pressing his lips against the newly exposed skin and looking up at her face.

There's a part of him, the mistreated kid, the abandoned husband, who will always be in awe that a beautiful, smart woman could truly want him. He knows he's cocky, smug, and it's partly a cover, but as Lucy scrapes her nails down his back and lets her head fall back as he presses up against her, clearly hard and wanting, it all feels surreal.

"Hey, come back," she whispers, running a hand through his hair.

He smiles at her, pushing her hair back off her shoulder. "I'm right here." He kisses her, quick, using the moment to shift and press her body back against the bed.

She smiles up at him, her hair fanned out around her. "Always full of surprises," she says, scratching her nails through his hair.

"Mhmm," he says, pressing his mouth to her nipple and sucking in gently as she moans. He presses his lips lower, tickling at the sensitive skin under her breasts. He runs his tongue down her stomach, dipping into the slope of her belly button, and she jumps, a quick shiver, and a laugh bubbles from her lips.

Each laugh is better, the new best sound he's ever heard.

He dips his head lower, pressing his mouth to the already damp fabric of her panties. He looks up at her and her eyes are closed, her head tossed to the side. The long line of her neck is distracting, and he could spend hours later mapping and memorizing each spot that makes her moan or lose her ever-running train of thought. But there are more pressing matters.

"Look at me, Lucy," he says, pressing his lips against her again, applying a little more pressure. Her eyes flutter open slowly, and he smiles against her. He hooks his fingers into the fabric at her sides and pulls, her hips shifting to help slide them off.

"Tim, you don't have to—" she starts, but he pulls her body down to better reach her.

"Shhh," he says, leaving no room for argument as he presses his lips to her inner thigh. He presses his thumb against her folds, circling slowly, and she squirms, her body arching up toward him.

He presses his lips to her other leg, high on her thigh, and presses his teeth against her skin. She hisses out a moan and he smiles against her flushed skin. He circles his thumb over her faster, waiting for her eyes to flutter closed.

They do, and he moves his hand and she whines slightly. He brushes his thumb over the numbers etched into her skin, a slight sheen appearing in its wake.

She inhales, shaky, and he waits until her eyes open to watch him again before pressing his mouth to her clit.

She arches against his mouth immediately, and he tosses an arm over her hips, holding her in place.

He watches her body react as he licks into her again and again, his tongue circling quickly. Her chest is flushed, the skin under his hand is raised with goosebumps. Her thighs are tense on either side of him, and he runs his hand down one slowly, digging his fingers into the muscle.

She moans, and he feels her hand card over his hair to hold him in place, right where he wants to be.

"Please, Tim, please," she whispers, and he's not even sure she's aware of it. Her hips flex against his forearm and he presses his thumb against her clit as he licks into her further.

Her nails press into his scalp and she pushes his head down against her further, and he can feel it in her body. She's close, and it's going to wreck him.

He moves his forearm and lets her hips move freely, lets her move against his mouth until she's shaking apart against him, a tense, sweaty mess.

It's the hottest damn thing he's ever seen, he's sure.

Her hips are still moving slowly against his mouth, and he soothes her through it, running his thumbs slowly under the soft, full rise of her breasts.

She sighs, a small laugh escaping her as he finally pulls his mouth away. He presses wet kisses up her torso as he slides up her body. He lingers in close to her mouth, just breathing against her lips.

She leans up and kisses him, lazy and languid and just this side of dirty. He could live in it, if she let him.

"Something funny?" He asks, pulling back only long enough to get the words out.

She smiles against his mouth, the motion pulling their lips apart. Her mouth is so close to his he feels the words before he hears them. "Don't tell Kojo, but ithis/i was easily my favorite last day of training gift," she says softly, like a secret.

"Mine too," he says, leaning in to kiss her long and slow. He shifts against her, tangling their legs together.

She pulls back suddenly, and he groans quietly.

"Wait, crap, was iI/i supposed to get iyou/i a gift?" She asks, her eyes searching his face.

"I think you already did," he says, laughing against her skin and running a hand down her side.

She shakes her head. "An orgasm for me isn't a gift for you, Tim," she argues, that aggravating edge he provoked for months creeping into her voice.

"Maybe I'm not done training you yet, Boot. Because every single one will be," he says, sucking a quick bite against her shoulder.

"That sounds promising," she says, tugging at his earlobe with her teeth and trailing her hand down between their bodies.

She snaps the band of his boxer briefs and presses her palm against him briefly. He shudders and grinds down for more, but she just smiles.

"I'm gonna need you to take these off, please," she says, pushing on his chest as she sits up.

He stands, and she knee-walks over to the edge of the bed to watch him.

He steps out of his boxer briefs, keeping his eyes on her face as she not-so-subtly trails her eyes down his body.

She nods. "That'll do," she says, that teasing glint in her eyes. He wants to kiss her senseless.

"Sit," she says, pointing to the bed.

He just stares at her.

She sits up on her knees, pressing her chest against his and sliding her hand down his body to finally, finally touch him. She circles her thumb around the tip of his cock, slicking pre-cum down his shaft. She slides her hand to the base and strokes him a few times, just this side of too much. He buries his face against her shoulder and exhales slowly.

"Sit, iplease,"/i she tries again, her breath warm against his lips.

He shakes his head and she smirks.

"So stubborn," she whispers, stroking him just a fraction faster.

"Day one, Boot, I knew you'd drive me up the wall," he says, pressing sloppy kisses up her shoulder to the curve of her neck.

She stills her hand on his cock and presses him back with a hand on his chest.

She points to her face, like he's ever going to want to look elsewhere. "iLucy,"/I she says slowly, like he hasn't heard her name in his dreams for months. "Not Boot."

He grabs her by the hips and moves her back on the bed, shifting her up the mattress. It's quick, but she shrieks, a quick laugh surprised out of her.

He crawls over her body, pulling her where he wants her.

"Okay?" He asks, running his hand up her thigh.

She shakes her head, that flirty smile tempting him closer.

"Not quite yet," she says, pushing against his chest and throwing him off balance. She ends up straddling him, and he could easily move her exactly where he wanted her, but she rocks forward and slides against his cock, and he's never moving again.

He brushes his fingers over the tattoo creeping up her neck as she rocks against him again. His other hand brushes over her nipple before tracing his fingers over the numbers below it.

She watches his fingers, that same overwhelmed look in her eyes as earlier.

"Lucy," he says, but she presses her hand over his on her skin and shifts up on her knees so she can sink down on his cock slowly. iFinally./i

She braces her hand on his thigh and rocks against him, grinding down with every thrust. He moves a hand to her hip, just because he can, still letting her set the pace.

She moves her hand, bringing both of them to rake down his chest, drawing them closer together. Her hips move faster now, steady, quick movements as he watches her face. She's totally focused, her eyes closed.

He sneaks his hand down to where they're joined and circles his fingers over her clit. Her eyes open and she moans, the best combo he's ever experienced.

She's shaky as she leans down and kisses him, and his hand, trapped between their bodies, is still working against her.

"One more? Please?" He asks her, his lips slanting over hers.

She smiles, and he can already read some of her tells. It won't take much.

"C'mere," he says, leveraging some core strength and moving so he's sitting up and their bodies are pressed together as close as they can be.

The angle changes and she gasps, scratching her nails down the back of his neck and burying her face against him as he thrusts up into her.

He feels her mouth open against his skin, a silent moan, as she bears down around him and shakes apart again. It's just as mesmerizing the second time, but better.

He tangles his hand in her hair and pulls her mouth to meet his. She comes willingly, stroking her hands down his neck and opening her mouth against his. They're hardly kissing, just exchanging labored air as he thrusts up into her once, twice more. He comes, burying his face in her hair and working to even his breathing.

She presses kisses to his neck, sweaty and damp, and he smiles into the veil of her hair.

She pulls back slightly and he reluctantly does too.

"Hi," she whispers, grinning and flirty and finally his.

He smiles, and he knows it's wide and bright and free, all the things she's always made him feel.

"Happy last day of training," he says, and she smiles back and touches his cheek again, running her thumb over the edge of his smile, as if she's done it a thousand times.

"You too," she says, slowly pulling away and sliding off his lap. He wants to pull her back in immediately, but she yawns and he knows they have time.

He wraps his arms around her, silly and exaggerated, and pulls her down to the mattress with him. He brushes hair off her face and watches her watch him.

"You thirsty?" He asks, and it could be seconds or minutes later.

She nods, trailing lazy fingers down his arm. He presses loud, sloppy kisses to her cheek as he gets up, and her laughter follows him to the door.

"You ready?" He asks, his hand on the doorknob.

She fixes him with a questioning glance and then smiles as he opens the door and Kojo basically rolls into the room.

"He puts all his weight against the door when you close him out and pouts, but inevitably falls asleep," he says, smiling back at her.

"Kojo, go get your girl," he says, watching him bound happily over to the bed and hop up.

Lucy's voice follows him out to the kitchen, and he grabs a couple bottles of water and gathers their clothes off the bar.

He walks back into the bedroom and stops in the doorway.

"You let him take my spot?" He asks, taking in the view in front of him.

Lucy is blissfully, gorgeously naked in his bed. Kojo, proving to be smarter than Tim has ever given him credit for, is lying with his head on her chest, staring at her.

She's scratching behind his ears and smiles up at Tim.

"Are you jealous?"

He just watches her. It's not a no.

He picks up their clothes off the floor and tosses everything on his dresser on his way back to the bed.

"Domesticity is a very, very good look for you," she says, her eyes not leaving his body.

"Everything is a good look for you," he counters, climbing back into bed and up her body. He presses the cold water bottle to her stomach and she yelps.

Kojo barks and Tim shushes him.

"Hush, boy. She's fine," he says, running his hand down her body.

"Actually, I'm cold," she says, dragging her hand down his back.

"Actually cold?" He asks, smirking at her.

She nods. "That too."

"Kojo," he says. "Down."

"Sorry, boy," Lucy calls, watching him jump down.

Tim pulls the blankets up over their heads and covers her with his body weight. It's corny, it's cozy.

It makes her laugh, and that's enough.

He works his way back down her body, pressing his lips to her skin, stopping at the numbers inked on her skin.

iThe first day of the rest of your life,/i he remembers telling her.

She laughs as he presses his lips to the ink and trails his fingers slowly down her side, and he's pretty sure he was right.