The Chronicles of Tim and Lucy

Tension and Lessons

Lucy was already in the patrol car when Tim arrived the next morning, his usual scowl firmly in place. She had gotten there early, wanting to avoid the awkwardness of walking in with him again. After the robbery fiasco the day before, she felt a strange mix of determination and unease. She had nearly gotten them both killed, and Tim's words still echoed in her mind: *You don't get a second chance to make mistakes like that.*

Tim slid into the driver's seat, saying nothing as he adjusted the radio and checked the computer. Lucy glanced at him from the corner of her eye, hoping for some sort of acknowledgment. She wasn't expecting a pat on the back, but some sign that he didn't hate her guts would have been nice.

"Today, you'll be handling traffic stops," Tim said abruptly, his voice flat. "I'll watch, and if you mess up, I'll step in. Don't make me step in."

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from rolling her eyes. Of course. He wasn't going to let yesterday go. But if he thought she was going to mess up again, he was wrong. Today, she was going to prove herself, even if it killed her.

They drove in silence for the next hour, patrolling the streets without exchanging more than a few words. The tension between them was thick, and Lucy's frustration with Tim's cold demeanor only grew. Every now and then, she'd steal a glance at him, trying to figure him out. Why was he so closed off? Didn't he ever let his guard down?

Finally, they spotted a car speeding down a residential street, and Lucy saw her chance. Tim flicked on the lights, pulling the car over to the curb.

"Go," he said, gesturing for her to take the lead.

Lucy nodded, her heart pounding as she climbed out of the patrol car. She took a deep breath and approached the vehicle, mentally running through the steps she'd practiced in the academy.

"Good afternoon, sir," she said as she reached the driver's window, keeping her tone calm and professional. "You were going 15 miles over the speed limit. Can I see your license and registration, please?"

The driver, a middle-aged man with a gruff expression, handed over his documents without a word. Lucy studied them carefully, then glanced back at Tim. He stood by the patrol car, arms crossed, watching her every move like a hawk. She couldn't tell if he was ready to jump in or just waiting for her to screw up.

She returned to the car and ran the driver's information through the system. Everything checked out. So far, so good. She filled out the ticket and walked back to the car to hand it to the driver.

"Please slow down, sir," she said, her voice steady. "This is a residential area, and there are kids around. Have a nice day."

The driver grumbled something under his breath but took the ticket and drove off without incident. Lucy let out a small breath of relief, glancing back at Tim again. He was still watching her, his face unreadable. She couldn't tell if he was satisfied or just waiting for her next mistake.

When she got back in the patrol car, Tim didn't say a word. They continued down the street in silence, and Lucy's irritation flared again. She had done everything by the book—no mistakes, no hesitation. But of course, he wasn't going to acknowledge that. Why would he?

Finally, Lucy couldn't take it anymore. She had to say something. "You know, I did everything right back there. I handled that stop perfectly."

Tim didn't look at her. "You did what you were supposed to do."

"That's it?" Lucy asked, her voice tinged with frustration. "No 'good job'? Nothing?"

He glanced at her, his face hard. "This isn't the academy, Chen. You don't get a gold star for doing the basics. You get through the day without screwing up, and you go home. That's the job."

Lucy blinked, momentarily stunned. She had expected him to be tough, but this? It was like he didn't care if she was learning or improving—only that she didn't die on his watch.

"You're seriously telling me there's no room for growth? No chance to get better?" Lucy pressed, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.

"You grow by surviving," Tim said, his tone sharp. "The only way you get better is by not getting killed. And right now, your job is to not be a liability."

The words stung, but Lucy didn't let it show. She turned her gaze out the window, her jaw clenched. So that was it, then. She wasn't here to learn or improve; she was here to avoid screwing up enough times to get through the day. Great. Fantastic.

They continued on their patrol, responding to a few minor calls—nothing as serious as the robbery from the day before. A noise complaint here, a shoplifter there. But each time, Tim barely let her take the lead before he stepped in, giving her terse instructions or cutting her off before she could fully handle the situation. It was like he didn't trust her to make the right decisions, and it grated on her nerves.

By the end of the shift, Lucy was exhausted—emotionally and mentally drained from the constant pressure of having Tim hover over her, waiting for her to fail. She wanted to scream, to demand why he was being so hard on her when all she wanted was to learn, to be better.

As they pulled back into the precinct parking lot, Lucy unbuckled her seatbelt with more force than necessary. She wasn't going to let this slide. Not today.

"Why are you like this?" she asked, her voice sharp, as soon as the engine was off.

Tim gave her a look that could freeze water. "Like what?"

"Like... like a drill sergeant who doesn't care if I learn anything. You act like I'm just supposed to know everything already, but I'm new. I'm going to make mistakes, and I need you to actually teach me, not just wait for me to fail."

For a moment, Tim said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned back in his seat, letting out a slow breath. "I'm hard on you because this job doesn't give you time to make mistakes. Out there, a second of hesitation could mean someone dies—maybe you, maybe me, maybe an innocent person. You think I don't care? I care enough to make sure you don't get yourself killed before you learn that."

Lucy stared at him, taken aback by the quiet intensity in his voice. This was the most he had said to her since they'd started working together. She had assumed his harshness was just his personality—cold, detached, uncaring. But now, she was starting to realize there was more to it than that.

"You think I'm hard on you because I don't like you, but this job doesn't care if we like each other. It cares if we survive." Tim's gaze softened just slightly, the hardness in his voice replaced by something almost like understanding. "I'm not here to be your friend, Chen. I'm here to make sure you go home at the end of every shift."

Lucy swallowed, her earlier frustration starting to dissolve. She still didn't agree with his methods—he could at least try to be less of an ass about it—but she was beginning to see that his tough exterior wasn't about hating her or thinking she wasn't good enough. It was about something deeper. He had probably seen more rookies make fatal mistakes than she could imagine, and his walls were a form of protection—for both of them.

"I get that," she said quietly. "But I need you to trust that I'm trying. I want to get better. I don't want to just survive—I want to be good at this."

Tim studied her for a long moment, as if weighing her words. Then, to her surprise, he gave a small nod. "We'll see."

It wasn't much, but it was something.