Beneath Your Beautiful (A Chenford | The Rookie Fanfic)

Part Twenty-Eight: Home Sweet Home

Week 1, Day 6: Friday

When they get back to LA the next day, they are dropped at the joint apartment they will be living in together for the rest of their experience.

The first major decision is an easy one for them — they opt to stay in separate rooms, and are both more than happy to bid adieux to nights on the floor. Production, of course, prods them to lean into the drama around their reasons, but Lucy hesitates. She's not sure what Tim has or hasn't shared, but if she were to bet on it, she'd put her money on not much.

And while her pettier, more vindictive inclinations wouldn't be opposed to making Tim look like the gigantic asshole he is on national television, she's not overly keen on revealing to the whole world that he'd summarily rejected her the morning after she'd slept with him.

And maybe, despite her better judgment, a small part of her is starting to feel the tiniest bit protective toward the man who had risked everything to save her life in that cave.

So she settles on something vague that still affords her a tiny, but satisfying bit of pettiness, wholeheartedly blaming Tim for their separation because he is having difficulty being open to the process. She's proud of her restraint, given a more apt description would be that he'd made up his mind about her, and any possibility of a future for them together, less than a week into their journey. She's surprised at how much the truth of that observation still stings, but she quickly turns her focus away from the dull ache that forms in her center at the thought.

***

The apartment is simple, but nice — located centrally enough that they both end up with a reasonable commute (reasonable for LA, anyway) — two bedrooms, two baths, and a kitchen that opens up to a big living and dining space. There's a large balcony off of the living area and a second smaller one off of the primary bedroom with a beautiful view of the city. It's an easy decision for Tim to let her have the better room when her eyes light up as soon as they step outside to take it all in.

The unit is fully furnished, but they'll be swinging by each of their places so that they can gather what they'll need for the remainder of the experiment, and so that they can explore (and judge) each other's living situations on camera.

They stop by Lucy's place first, and, as soon as Tim steps into the apartment, he can immediately feel her energy all around him. The space is vibrant and colorful and welcoming. Everything he'd imagined her home would be.

Jackson greets Lucy with a massive hug, and it's impossible not to see how close the two of them are, how deeply they care about one another.

The warmth is gone, though, when Jackson's eyes land on Tim, and he gives him a brisk nod before turning his focus back to Lucy as she details their adventures in Mexico.

"We had our own pool, Jackson; it was insane. I can't wait to show you the pictures!"

And though he knows he's more than earned the cold shoulder, it still bugs him a little. He's not one to care a whole lot about whether people like him; there's no shortage of people he's unapologetically rubbed the wrong way. But he'd be lying if he didn't admit it bugs him a little that Lucy's closest friend despises him.

He trails them into her bedroom, and of course she'd have a giant four-poster canopy bed fit for a princess. She glances back over her shoulder as if anticipating his reaction and narrows her eyes, "Shut up, Tim."

He chuckles and raises his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I didn't say a thing."

"Uh huh. Tell that to your face."

Even Jackson joins in on their laughter, muttering something that sounds like, "It is kind of ridiculous," under his breath.

But amidst the gentle teasing, Tim's mind is already contemplating how hot it would be to lay her back on that bed with the curtains drawn around them, as he takes his sweet time exploring every inch of her naked body.

He shakes himself; that ship hasn't just sailed — he personally went through the trouble of converting it to a high-speed motorboat before shoving it out to sea.

Jackson and Lucy disappear into her closet, continuing to chatter away as Lucy begins to pack her things. One of the crew encourages Tim to explore because apparently watching him awkwardly hover in the middle of the room does not make for enthralling television. He sighs and begins to wander around — her room is well kept and orderly even though there's no shortage of stuff to liven things up and make the space uniquely Lucy's.

His lips curve upward as he studies various photos of her with friends and family; he recognizes Jackson, her Aunt Amy, and the teenager — Tamara — from their wedding, as well as a few of her colleagues in various photos. Lucy's smile is contagious even when captured in a picture.

His smile fades though when his eyes fall on a photo of her being presented with a plaque; a screen behind her reads Southern California Journalism Awards. He can guess what piece earned her that award.

He moves on quickly; his only goals at the moment are to make it through the next seven weeks with as little drama as possible and to make every effort to treat Lucy with the respect and care he should have treated her with from the start, regardless of his feelings about this process or the unsettling overlap in their past. Spiraling over what happened with Isabel is a surefire way to ensure he achieves neither.

He's so lost in thought that he's only half paying attention as a crew member nudges him toward her dresser and pulls open the top drawer before scuttling out of frame. His eyes widen when he realizes he's been set up to look like a run-of-the-mill pervert. It's her underwear drawer, and his hands are moving to slam it shut even as he idly observes that she does, in fact, own an assortment of sexy undergarments that don't solely exist to sass him, though they may exist to make his life very, very difficult in other ways.

Lucy pops up next to him (courtesy of a helpful PA, no doubt) and shit — he is pretty sure he turns fuschia as she closes her fingers around his wrist to stop him.

"Chill, Tim. It's just underwear." She gently hip-checks him to get him out of her way, before hissing under her breath, "Closest you'll ever be getting to my panties again, Bradford, so enjoy it."

He swallows back a groan, pressing his eyes closed as Lucy lifts a stack of pretty, lacy, colorful things from the drawer to pack into her suitcase.