Work Text:
This day is dragging.
Tim begrudgingly came into work early today to get caught up on paperwork. He spent yesterday in court testifying in a case from back when he was still supervising sergeant, so he knows today is going to consist of playing catch-up.
He has been staring at his computer for hours now, his third cup of coffee doing very little to quell the growing ache behind his eyes. He swears he would do literally anything, even clean the drunk tank with a toothbrush, to escape the monotony of paperwork, but he knows any kind of break will result in more pile up.
He groans, rolling his neck in search of relief before turning his attention back to the document on his screen, typing on his keyboard.
Just then a knock sounds on his door. He looks up to see Nolan with a nervous look on his face.
“Come in,” he reluctantly instructs the officer. He has to fight to not roll his eyes, bracing for what will inevitably be bad news if Nolan’s demeanor is any tell.
Nolan takes a hesitant step forward, keeping one foot in the door and one foot out, ready to run should Tim react poorly. Nolan opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it as he studies Tim’s grumpy expression.
“Just spit it out Nolan,” Tim grumbles.
“Officer Penn and I were responding to a call earlier for several suspects on a neighbor's lawn waving bats. We were trying to talk them down, but then Penn moved towards one of them and he swung at him. He’s fine, but he’s gonna need the rest of the day. . .” he trails off.
“Of course,” Tim rolls his eyes.
Nolan opens his mouth again then closes it, clearly wanting to say something else but holding back.
“There’s more?” Tim asks.
“Yeah . . . After he swung on Penn we took him down, but while we were doing that some of the others turned on the shop. They caused a good amount of damage and it’s not really . . . driveable anymore.”
Great. More paperwork.
“Please tell me this is your terrible idea of a prank,” Tim [insert word]
“I wish I could,” Nolan says regretfully, casting his gaze to the ground.
“Get out of my office,” Tim tells the man, more so withdrawn than angry. “You're on desk duty for the rest of the day. File the report and have it on my desk. We will talk about this when I’m feeling less inclined to yell at you.
Nolan nods once.
“Yes sir,” he says. He almost looks relieved, clearly having expected this conversation to go more poorly than it had.
When he exits the office Tim groans, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. He can’t deal with this right now. He just needs this day to be over.
He allows himself just a moment to compose his thoughts, then goes back to his computer. Now adding the paperwork for the damaged shop and injured officer to his to-do list.
He begins working again, chipping away at his pile one by one. It doesn’t take long before he hears another knock at his door.
He closes his eyes for a long second. He fights another groan as he finally looks up, prepared for yet another unwelcomed interruption.
Oh.
Lucy.
He takes a steadying breath. The tension in his shoulders eases ever so slightly. Of all the interruptions he could have gotten today, this is the one he doesn’t resent.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Sergeant Bradford, could you come with me for just a moment. I need to consult with you about something.”
He feels a weight in his chest as he takes in her serious expression. The lightness he had been feeling suddenly disappears as he realizes this may be something heavier than he had anticipated.
He nods, then stands from his chair. She turns to exit the room and he follows closely behind her. She begins quickly pacing through the hallways, clearly on a mission.
They pass the break room and the interrogation rooms, Tim is suddenly unsure of where she is leading him.
She stops in front of the storage room door, looking both ways before opening it and beckoning him in. He is confused but he enters without question, hearing her shut the door behind them. He turns toward her, but before he can ask what they are doing in here she surges forward. Her lips finding his.
He leans into it for a moment, kissing her back.
He then pulls away, just enough to look at her properly. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes a little wild.
“Sergeant Chen, I thought you said our jobs were too important for our relationship to interfere. Something about . . . staying professional.”
“I would like to amend my statement. Our jobs are too important 99 percent of the time,” she says confidently, like she had anticipated this would be his response.
He can’t help but chuckle.
“And the other one percent?” he asks with one eyebrow raised, smirking down at her.
She places her hand on the back of his head, yanking it down until her lips meet his in a rather aggressive kiss.
She backs away just enough to meet his eyes. She wraps her free arm around his waist and walks them backward until she is caged between the cold wall and the hard planes of his body.
“This. This is more important,” she says as she leans back in to capture his lips.
He pulls back an inch, just enough to be out of the reach of her mouth.
“Lucy . . .” he says sternly.
“Whattttttt?” Lucy whines.
She attempts to pull him closer again, but he remains steadily in place. She looks up at him with puppy eyes and he is confounded by her desperation. If anything, she has historically been the one to shut down his advances when they are working.
He studies her, one brow lifting slowly. His hands stay on her waist, unmoving.
“Lucy what’s going on?”
He waits.
“Nothing.”
“Lucy.”
She groans. Long and painful.
His expression shifts from amused to curious, softening his teasing just a bit.
“. . . I’m ovulating and I can’t stop thinking about you. I literally haven’t been able to focus all day and you left early this morning and I am losing my mind.”
He grins at her confession as she continues.
“I just need to take the edge off so then I can go back to work and actually do my job. So, right now this is more important and I need you to help me.”
Honestly, this is enough reason for him to give in, but part of him is enjoying messing with her right now.
“So you are asking your watch commander to engage in . . . a highly unprofessional level of fraternization while on duty?”
“Yes,” she answers like he just asked her the most normal question, not something that violates multiple department policies.
He is honestly a little startled by her unwavering determination. He finds it kind of . . . hot?
“You’re ridiculous,” he whispers.
“Please,” she asks softly, blinking at him with her big brown eyes that she knows he can’t say no to.
“Okay,” he finally concedes.
He notices a glimmer in her eyes at this. She perks up again, excitement evident in the smile that is now stretching across her face.
“But . . .” he continues. Her smile drops. “We have five minutes. Clothes stay on. Then we both go back to work like nothing happened and we can pick it back up after shift.”
“Deal.”
He barely has time to process what she has said before she is practically pouncing on him. Her mouth crashing into his with zero hesitation, fingers fisting the front of his uniform shirt, holding onto him like she is terrified he is going to leave.
She deepens the kiss even further, using her tongue to coax his mouth open. She starts moving her hips against him in a way that is a little too overwhelming for him, especially in their current environment.
He shifts his grip, steady and grounding, thumbs pressing into the curve of her hips as he slows the pace deliberately. Not stopping, just reminding them both of where they are.
“Easy,” he murmurs against her mouth. Not to reprimand, but to anchor.
She lets out a disapproving hum, but she allows him to slow their pace and steady her body against his. He pours all the love he has for her into the kiss, savoring the feel of her lips against his.
The kiss deepens again, slower now. Intentional. Her hands slide up, cradling the back of his neck while he softly caresses her jaw and holds her to his body with his.
He tilts his head, catching her lower lip between his teeth just enough to elicit a soft noise from the back of her throat, the sound nearly undoing his restraint.
It’s not frantic anymore. It’s warm. Familiar. Charged with love instead of urgency.
This is by no means the interruption he expected when she had stepped into his office.
It is, however, significantly better.
Just as their hands begin wandering, Tim registers the sound of the door handle turning. He pushes himself away from Lucy attempting to rearrange his face into something that does not resemble a teenager being caught in a compromising situation.
Much to his dismay, it is not just any officer that steps through the door, but it is Angela. Tim immediately knows by the smirk on her face as her eyes bounce between Lucy and him that there is no hiding what was happening in here.
“I thought I saw you guys sneaking in here,” she says knowingly.
Tim shakes his head and he can see Lucy look down at the floor out of the corner of his eye.
“I figured I’d give you guys a couple of minutes to sort,” she waves her hands in their direction, “this out before I came and got you, but Grey was getting impatient. He’s looking for you by the way.”
She is smiling at Tim now, making no effort to hide her amusement.
“Of course he is,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“I figured you would rather I walk in on you than him,” she shrugs. “It’s not like it’s the first time anyways.
“Come on Angela, it was one time and we weren’t even doing anything.”
“Timothy, you guys were making out and your hand was literally in her pants,” she says, her tone accusatory.
He finally looks over at Lucy who’s eyes are still pointed at the ground, but now her cheeks are a deep shade of pink.
Tim turns his attention back to Angela and rolls his eyes. “Well, thanks for getting us. Please tell Grey I will meet him in my office in a minute.”
“No problem,” she smirks again. “I would go take care of your face first though. Maybe make it look less like you were just mauled by your girlfriend in a storage closet.”
He scoffs.
“By the way, the janitor's closet on the second floor is much more secluded and it has a lock on the door,” she tells the couple as she turns toward the exit. “That’s where Wesley and I go when we need a . . . moment.”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” he replies sarcastically, glaring at her.
She holds her hands up, feigning innocence. “Just saying.”
Angela leaves the storage closet snickering, and he turns his attention back to Lucy. She is clearly embarrassed, but now that they are alone she has a playful grin on her face. His eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh?” he questions her, “You find this amusing?”
“Maybe a little,” she giggles.
He let out a short huff of amusement.
“I don’t know that I would call getting caught making out at your place of employment amusing,” he gently admonishes.
She shrugs.
“At least it was Angela.”
His brows tighten. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”
She just giggles and reaches up once more to place a quick kiss on his lips. He looks down at her softly, lips quirked into a small smile.
“Well anyway, thanks for the . . . stress relief. I feel a little better.”
“Stress relief,” he deadpans. “Is that what we are calling it now?”
“Yes,” she replies fondly. “You know it is very important as a watch commander that you ensure your employees maintain optimal performance levels. You wouldn’t want any of us to be . . . overwhelmed”
“Is that so?”
“Mhmmm,” she nods.
“So I should offer up my services to other officers who are feeling stressed?” He asks sarcastically.
Her smile drops and she slaps his bicep. Hard.
“Not funny,” she scolds.
Now he’s the one feigning innocence. “Just saying.”
She rolls her eyes playfully.
“Alright, well I’m going to go back to work now,” she says. “You need to go wipe my lip gloss off your face and go talk to Grey before he comes looking for us again.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replies with a nod.
They linger for half a second longer than necessary, her fingers smoothing the front of his uniform where she wrinkled it. He catches her wrist gently before she pulls away, pressing one last quick kiss to her knuckles.
“Five minutes,” he reminds her quietly.
“One percent,” she corrects with a grin before slipping out the door.
A couple of weeks later Lucy shows up at his office door again. She doesn’t say anything but she has a conspiratorial gleam in her eye.
Tim raises an eyebrow at her, the corner of his mouth turning upward.
“One percent?” He asks dryly.
She just nods frantically.
“Okay,” he chuckles. “You go up there now, I’ll follow in two minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” she says playfully with a smile on her face.
He grins and shakes his head as she turns, making her way to the stairs.
He looks out at the bullpen, trying to pass time before he heads up there. He finds Angela watching him from her desk, a knowing smirk on her face.
He rolls his eyes and looks back at his computer, pretending to type away at something until another minute goes by.
They don’t make a habit of it, but since they discovered the privacy of the janitor's closet it has become slightly more frequent.
He supposes if it helps his supervising sergeant maintain optimal performance, he can justify the occasional lapse in judgment.
That’s what he tells himself, anyway.