FINE LINE - T. BRADFORD

10

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know why I still bother," Tim sighs.

"You loved her," Mirana shrugs. "That doesn't go away. Come on, let's go get a coffee"

Mirana walks out of the room with Tim, examining his knuckles. She gently moves his fingers as they walk and he winces.

"You're going to want to ice them," Mirana says. "I don't think you've broken anything but the bruising is going to be aggressive"

"Mirana!"

Mirana and Tim turn to see Sam jogging after them. He hands Mirana a small card with his number written on it and she offers him a small smile before continuing to walk with Tim.

"Are you gonna call him?" Tim asks and Mirana shrugs.

"I don't think so," Mirana shakes her head. "He seems nice. Demasiado simpatico"

"Here," Tim takes the card and crumples it up before throwing it in the trash.

"Jealous, Bradford?" Mirana teases, noting Tim's reaction.

"Absolutely not," Tim replies, but the tightness in his jaw suggests otherwise.

"Come on, let's get that coffee. And we can find some ice for your hand."

Mirana brings over the dishcloth-wrapped ice and their coffee to the table in the hospital cafeteria. She gently places the ice on Tim's hand.

"Better?" Mirana asks and Tim nods.

"You know a lot about first aid," Tim says. "Outside of what we're taught at the academy"

"I should hope so considering I passed all the training and got certified as a paramedic," Mirana says. "Alright, clench your hand into a fist. Now spread it out. How does that feel?"

"It hurts but it's doable,"

"You'll just have a sore hand for a few days," Mirana says.

"7-Adam-19, report of a biker gang, drunk and disorderly at The Hard Road bar"

"7-Adam-19, show us responding,"

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"How do you identify a motorcycle club?" Tim asks.

"There's three rockers on the back of their jacket," Mirana says. "They show gang name, the logo and the state of origin. That one says- I can't read that"

"Dead Bastards MC," Tim tells her. "And which one of these guys is the most dangerous? See them?"

Tim points out a group of younger men whose jackets are slightly different to the older members' jackets.

"Those are prospects. They haven't earned their top rocker yet, and there's only one way to get it - commit a felony in view of another gang member, which means what?"

"They're gonna come for us as soon as we get out of this car,"

"Exactly,"

"Isn't it a good idea to call for backup?"

"Where's the fun in that?

"You're loco," Mirana says as she gets out of the car.

She watches Tim walk over to the bikers as one of them launches a bottle down and it shatters in front of his feet. All of the bikers are glaring at Tim who seems nonplussed.

"Now, that's just sad," Tim says. "Either you're man enough to come at me or you're not. Now, who needs a felony?"

"Tim, what the hell are you doing?"

"Look, I'm not gonna repeat myself," Tim says. "This is a one-time offer, and it's about to expire. You beat me, I won't even book you. I beat you, you go to jail, and your buddies hit the road"

"Come on, Jordan. You got this,"

"Let's go!" A young man steps forward as the bikers egg him on.

The biker prospect, Jordan, throws a bottle at Tim who swats it away with ease. Jordan lands a punch on Tim's face before slamming Tim against the hood of the police car.

Mirana's hand remains on her gun as three bikers circle her. She takes a deep breath as she watches the ongoing fight.

"I wonder if he'll let us take her if he loses," One of them says and the men laugh.

Tim lands on all fours and takes a hard kick to the ribs but he grabs Jordan's leg and pulls it from underneath him. Tim slams his elbow into Jordan's face before turning him on his front and cuffing him.

Mirana moves to help Tim put Jordan in the car and one of the bikers pushes himself up against her, his hand brushing against her ass.

"Hey!" Mirana snaps.

"Sorry doll,"

"Touch me again and you'll lose your hand," Mirana turns away to put Jordan in the police car.

"7-Adam-19, type change this event to a felony assault, one in custody,"

"What the hell was that?" Mirana asks, slamming the back car door closed.

"Patrol work," Tim says. "You gonna say anything different?"

"No,"