Lucy sighed as she rounded up the paperwork. It had been a long day. They'd answered a bunch of heavier calls, including one ending in a fistfight between a drunk husband who had been fighting with his wife, and Tim. Tim had gotten a pretty bad nosebleed.

She couldn't help smile and shake her head remembering Tim trying to change his uniform right after the call, as his clothes now needed to be submitted as evidence.

He was grumbling about not being able to get blood out of his undershirt, which, for some reason, Grey had deemed didn't need to be submitted.

"Hydrogen peroxide." She'd said through a laugh.

"What?" He asked, glancing at her as he pulled off the undershirt, and rifling through the trunk of their shop for a new one. She stared at him. She'd seen him shirtless before, when she'd set him up with the date with Rachel. They'd broken up a week ago, and she hadn't known anything until this morning, when she'd called Rachel, and demanded the scoop.

"He just took me out for dinner on Friday, and told me that 'we were heading in different directions,' and we both knew it was 'never gonna really work out.'" She had said. Lucy had noticed her voice was more understanding than anything. Like she knew why he'd said those things, but it still hurt.

However, this felt different. Has he always had such nice abs? She thought.

She shook herself out of it as he looked up at her again, waiting for a response.

"You don't know what hydrogen peroxide is?" She asked, stunned. She figured he would, being a long-standing cop and all, but then again, girls use hydrogen peroxide for bloody clothes a lot more than boys do.

"Of course I know what it is. I've had plenty of cuts and wounds, boot. I just want to know what the hell it has to do with my bloody uniform," he said gruffly. She would have let him figure it out, leading him towards the answer, like he would've with her, but he was a no bullshit, straight forward kind of guy.

"Being a cop, I'm surprised you didn't know." She said. She wanted to bring up the fact that he had had a wife, and that he should've already known, but Isabel was still a sore subject. "Pour a little hydrogen peroxide on the shirt where the blood is, stick it in the wash, and it'll come right out."

"You're kidding," He said, shaking his head. "If I had known that…" He trailed off.

Thinking about the memory, she thought about him shirtless again. She was still struggling with being touched by guys. Even John and Jackson. But Tim...she never flinched to his touch. She remembered him holding her after pulling her out of the barrel. Part of her had wanted to just stay like that, in his arms forever. Her thoughts fast forwarded to her standing in the department gym, until Tim had come in and talked to her, trying to convince her not to remove the tattoo that physco had put on her. She didn't get a lot of straight-forward things like that from him. He'd called her a survivor. He didn't give her a lot of compliments. She cherished this one.

"Hey," said a voice from the hallway. Had she not been so detached, she would have recognized it immediately. The voice shook her out of her thoughts. It was John.

"Jackson, Lopez, Harper, Tim, and I were gonna go eat. Wanna join?" he asked. He seemed to expect her to say no. She wanted to prove her wrong.

"Sure," she said nonchalantly, and glanced down to avoid his likely surprised gaze. In doing so, she realized she was still in her uniform. "Just let me change."