Want You to Stay || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 14

Tim stands alone on a patio just off the gala ballroom, his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo trousers as he stares out at the city. Below him, the streets of downtown L.A. are as bustling as ever, filled with a steady stream of traffic and pedestrians hustling about. And above him, the city skyline juts up, a handful of windows still lit up in the office buildings despite the fact that the workday ended hours ago.

He hears a noise behind him on the tile and turns around to see Lucy standing in the doorway. She pauses when she spots him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were out here." She lingers there for a few moments, her expression conflicted. "Where's, ah, where's Ashley?" she finally asks quietly.

"She's talking to some of her dad's old patrol buddies." He pauses. "Where's Chris?"

"He and Wes are having some kind of bonding moment over legal precedent." She's smiling, but it's a little reserved. He tries to remember the last time he saw her really smile around him.

Tim rocks on his heels, unsure of what to say and hating that he feels that way. He finally settles on, "He seems like a good guy."

A light breeze ruffles the hair around her face, and Lucy reaches back to sweep her curls over one shoulder. "He is," she says softly. Then, "What are you doing out here?"

"I just needed a little bit of air."

Lucy nods and turns her body a little, like she's going to head back inside. Tim tries to ignore the sudden twinge of disappointment that zips through his chest. But then she just cocks her head to the side and deadpans, "I can't imagine why, I thought that dinner was lovely."

Tim releases a surprised laugh in spite of himself and rolls his eyes. "Oh yeah, it was great."

"Mmm hmm. No awkwardness whatsoever," Lucy replies, trying to keep a straight face until a wry chuckle finally escapes.

Tim shakes his head with a dry laugh, and for the first time tonight, the tension he's been feeling all day starts to ease. He realizes with a start that it's because it feels good not to pretend. And that maybe he's been pretending a lot more than he even realized.

Lucy steps forward onto the patio and walks toward him. The slit of the dress exposes her leg as she walks, the supple curves of her calf and thigh on full display as the silky blue fabric swishes around them. Tim's eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment before he swallows roughly and averts his eyes. He turns back around to look out at the city as she comes to stand next to him at the terrace edge, a few feet of space between them.

"You know who would have loved this party, though?" Lucy asks as she lifts her gaze up to the city skyline towering above them.

"Who?"

"Jackson."

Tim twists his head to the side to look at her, surprised. They haven't talked about Jackson since that night all those months ago. Or anything real at all, truthfully.

"What makes you say that?" He asks gently.

"He loved parties. Or any excuse to dress up. He was so excited for Angela and Wes's wedding. Tried on like 10 different suit and tie combinations and had me vote." Lucy grins at the memory. "He also helped me pick out my dress."

"It was a good dress," Tim says before he can stop himself. Lucy turns and catches his eye, her lips twisted in the same shyly pleased smile she'd had when he asked her to dance all those months ago.

"When I was getting dressed tonight I kept wondering what he'd think of this dress," she says softly, her eyes boring into his.

"It's — it's a good dress, too." His voice is low and a little throaty.

They stare at each other for a few moments, neither moving a muscle. They are still standing a few feet apart, but Tim feels a visceral pull toward her. He thinks Lucy feels it too, based on the way her long fingers are gripping the terrace railing, almost like if she lets go she won't be able to stop herself from drifting toward him.

"Lucy..."

Tim doesn't even know what he wants to say. The air around him feels so heavy with unspoken thoughts and jumbled feelings he doesn't know how to express. He wants to tell her that he hates what they've become — a strange, stilted facsimile of what they used to be. A shattered glass that they tried to glue back together, but sometimes all he can see are the cracks.

He wants to tell her that he misses her, even now, when she's standing right next to him.

"Oh, there you are —"

Tim and Lucy both whirl around as another voice interrupts the moment. Chris is standing on the edge of the patio, his eyes shifting back and forth between them.

"I just needed a little fresh air," Lucy says quickly, turning away from Tim and walking toward Chris with fast, clipped steps. "I think I'm ready to go home now. I'll grab my coat from coat check and meet you in the lobby?" She runs a hand down Chris's arm as she passes by him, and he nods, but his gaze stays fixed on Tim.

"Have a good rest of your night, Tim," she tosses back with a polite, perfunctory little wave. Then Lucy disappears through the doorway without looking back.

Tim expects Chris to follow her, but he hovers there in the doorway, still looking at Tim with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"It was nice to meet you, man," Tim tries after a few long beats of silence. He can feel that the mood on the patio has shifted almost imperceptibly. His shoulders tense as a vague feeling of unease starts to percolate in his veins.

"Yeah..." Chris trails off in a non-committal sort of way. The two men stare at each other for another moment before Chris shakes his head and chuckles. "You know what's funny? Lucy never really talks about you."

The words take Tim by surprise, but he keeps his face neutral as Chris continues.

"Which I thought was strange at first. You guys work together every day, and you have for a while." Chris slides his hands into his pockets as he keeps talking, his voice casual. "Then I thought maybe she didn't want to talk about you because you two didn't get along. Maybe she thought you were an asshole or something..."

He pauses, fixing his eyes on Tim, his gaze penetrating. Tim has a fleeting feeling that he's on a witness stand. That he's being cross-examined.

"But I don't think that's it at all."

Tim's jaw clenches. "What are you getting at?" He grits out after a moment, his voice low.

Chris shrugs, but he's still looking at Tim in a way that makes it feel like he can see right through him as he ignores the question.

"You seem like a decent guy. And your reputation obviously precedes you in the department — a bit of a prick, but honorable."

Tim bristles, still trying to figure out where he's going with this.

"So I'll shoot straight with you, and I hope you'll give me the respect of doing the same," Chris continues, still deceptively nonchalant. Then he narrows his eyes, his voice unmistakably deliberate. "Tonight — the conversation at the table, whatever I just walked in on... Do I have something to be worried about? Between you and Lucy?"

Tim feels like he's been punched in the gut. He wants to feel angry and indignant and offended at the question. But when he opens his mouth to respond, his reply just sounds defeated. "I — I have no idea what you're talking about."

When Chris smiles again, there's an edge of sympathy in it. "I see a lot of liars in my line of work." He turns to head back inside before he adds, "You're not a very good one."