Maybe we figure it out in the morning... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 2

It unsettles her slightly, tickling at the girlish giddiness in her stomach and causing a wave of warmth to spread over her. Mentally shaking herself, Lucy immerses herself in her cover — she is a party girl with one priority in mind, and it's time to get the party started.

Foregoing the empty bar stool next to Tim, she launches herself up on the rail running along the bottom of the bar so she can lean further over in an attempt to win the bartender's attention, while also strategically angling herself in front of Tim, giving him the perfect opportunity to make contact.

***

Tim's eyes widen as the already dangerously short dress inches up even further as Lucy leans over the bar, and he swallows hard, briefly debating whether the right move is to be a gentleman and avert his eyes or embrace his cover and enjoy the view. He momentarily entertains the latter, while simultaneously fighting against the impulse to wrap her up in his overshirt — away and protected from all of the other eyes in the bar that are clearly also enjoying the view.

He finds himself surprised again at just how good she is at this — how naturally she's able to adopt this party girl persona.

Once he's at least partially confident that he can string together a sentence, Tim leans in to initiate a conversation, "Wow, boot, that is — uh — that is some dress."

Tim sees her flush just slightly before she turns a 1,000-kilowatt smile on him and flirtatiously tosses her hair over her shoulder. Confident that it's far too loud for anyone to overhear their exchange, Lucy teases, "Well, you know what they say about all of you old geezers trying to get us UCs naked."

He knows she's more teasing than flirting — trying to put him at ease — but that does nothing to stop the series of images she's started on a loop in his head.

It's Tim's turn to blush as he swallows, clears his throat, and averts his eyes while reaching for a sip of his drink before responding, "Not a UC, yet, boot. Don't forget that."

Oblivious to the effect of her words on him and choosing to ignore his comment, Lucy changes tune, all business. "Any sign of him?" she asks, referring to the mid-level dealer slash bartender she's supposed to initiate contact with.

Tim shakes his head no, not entirely confident in what will come out if he tries to speak. Damn, his throat is dry.

Clearing his throat again, he expands, "I've only seen two bartenders since I've gotten here." He nods toward the other end of the bar, "Neither of them has been your guy. It's pretty clear they are understaffed."

Lucy nods in agreement, taking in the growing crowd now pushing for a spot at the bar.

Once they finally manage to secure Lucy a drink (some fruity thing that is chock full of sugar; apparently Lucy's taste in alcoholic beverages is about as good as her taste in coffee) and Tim a desperately needed refill, he takes immediate note of her unwillingness to set her drink on the bar and frowns, saddened by the knowledge that as uninhibited and carefree as she may be pretending to be tonight, that version of the real Lucy is gone for good.

***

Lucy drains her drink quickly, the icy chill of the glass causing her fingers to numb. She looks up and realizes Tim is watching her with a familiar look; it's what she likes to think of as his 'time machine' look — not quite pitying, but just so deeply sad and remorseful.

It's been a very long time since they've acknowledged or talked about either Caleb or Rosalind, but every time she sees this expression, it so clearly conveys to her that he would do literally anything for her to have not gone through what she did and that it still pains him deeply that he hadn't been able to prevent it.