Beneath Your Beautiful (A Chenford | The Rookie Fanfic)

Part Fifty-Three: Getting Comfortable

Week 3, Day 6: Friday

Lucy settles on the stool next to him with her [also cold] tea.

Tim glances over at her as he begins to eat. "We never got to finish that conversation about Jackson's partner."

Lucy nods, realizing she still hasn't heard from Jackson about the specifics of what happened.

"Yeah, I mean, I think we covered the gist of it. I don't have all the details — I just know his partner has made some calls that Jackson has found concerning. And I'm really worried about him. He needs to be able to count on his partner to have his back."

"Jackson's a P2? At North Hollywood?"

Lucy nods.

"How long has he been a P2?"

Lucy's brow crinkles as she works through some mental math... "Um maybe like a year and a half. He finished the FTO program toward the end of 2020."

Tim nods but doesn't say anything.

"Is that a problem? Jackson had made it seem like it might be."

Tim sighs deeply and shrugs, "I mean... it's good that he's not still probationary, but yeah — a big disparity in seniority isn't going to favor the more junior officer. And stuff like this — allegations of misconduct — it can get really complicated —"

"What is so complicated about it? He's a racist. With a badge and a gun. In 2022," Lucy interjects with frustration.

"Lucy —"

"I swear to god, Tim — if you Pollyanna me, I'll —"

Tim shakes his head, reaching over to give her thigh a comforting squeeze.

"I wasn't going to Pollyanna you."

Lucy narrows her eyes.

"Okay. Maybe just a little," he concedes. "All I'm saying is that this stuff can be almost impossible to prove, and even with proof, there are so many protections in place for cops. Combine that with the union, multiple opportunities for appeal, and a legal defense team that will rip apart every detail surrounding the allegation, including going after the accuser, and it's highly unlikely any meaningful disciplinary action will be the outcome.

"And you're right to be concerned — if Jackson is actively going after his partner, things could get very, very dangerous for him. He needs to lay low and tread very carefully, Lucy. Or Stanton will continue to get away with whatever he's doing with other cops unified behind him, and Jackson will pay — with his career or with something far worse."

A chill runs down Lucy's spine as she processes Tim's warning.

"This is so messed up. He's just trying to do the right thing, Tim. And you're saying that could what? Get him injured? Or even killed?"

Tim frowns, "Lucy, if I thought there was an easy answer in this situation, you know I'd give it to you. But it's —"

"Complicated," Lucy fills in. She sighs with resignation, "I know things aren't that simple, but I hate this. It's so wrong that he's in this awful position, and I'm really worried about him."

He studies her carefully for a few seconds. "I know you are, Lucy... Listen, I'll see what I can find out without drawing attention. Maybe there's some way I can help; let me think about the best course of action here, okay?"

Lucy feels her worry rise in her chest. Clearly, Tim is in a better position than Jackson, but it's more than clear no cop would want to touch this situation with a ten-foot-long pole. She shakes her head, "You don't have to do that, Tim. The last thing I want is for both of you to be caught up in this mess."

Tim gets to his feet and lifts a hand to cradle her cheek before pressing his lips to her forehead. He pulls back to look at her, "I want to. And you don't have to worry. I know what I'm doing, okay?"

She nods gratefully, feeling a warm wave of comfort and hopefulness wash over her.

***

That evening, Lucy and Tim film for a few hours, They attempt to cook dinner together, all the while mercilessly teasing and bickering over the right methods, utensils, temperatures, and just about everything else. Lucy gets particularly annoyed when Tim suggests that maybe her entree would be a bit more... flavorful if she just incorporated the patented Tim Bradford method of seasoning.

Her annoyance melts away, though, when he slides up behind her and nuzzles his face into her neck as he pulls her back against his chest. She's far too easy, she knows, but how is she supposed to hold a grudge when he smells so good and the scratch of his stubble against her skin makes her thighs automatically clench together?

They do a few silly communication exercises while they eat. One exercise requires them to maintain prolonged eye contact, which effectively devolves into a staring/laughing contest. Mature, highly over-competitive adults that they are, they spend the bulk of dinner silently making ridiculous, idiotic faces at each other in an attempt to claim victory. They both win the prize of looking extremely dumb (albeit adorably so) on national TV.

They settle in for a movie after dinner once the crew leaves and make it through about ten whole minutes before Lucy invites herself onto Tim's lap. She straddles him and slips her arms around his neck. He groans with pleasure when she hungrily kisses him.

It doesn't take a genius to realize that he's going to be a bit gun-shy about being the physical aggressor after what happened when things heated up so rapidly between them on Monday night when Tim finally made it home. But Lucy doesn't mind; she's comfortable going after what she wants — for now, anyway.

Or at least she doesn't mind until they are over ten minutes into a heated make-out and his hands haven't strayed from where they've been chastely planted on her hips since they started. She had his shirt over his head by the two-minute mark — the image of his glistening naked torso from this morning still fresh on her mind. But even his damn thumb doesn't stray far enough to brush over the bit of exposed skin above the waistband of her jeans.

She contemplates moving one of his hands to her boob and the other to her ass herself, but then decides that moving at a pace that is comfortable for them both is probably more important than her need to feel his hands all over her body — for now, anyway.

She slides off of him after a few more minutes of making out that would at least make the tween version of herself blush.

The movie turns out to be pretty good once they rewind, and she has to admit that being wrapped tightly in his arms while they watch isn't the worst way to spend a Friday night.