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“I’ll be home for Christmas, I promise.”
The words hang between them, a last-ditch effort for her to make peace with the situation, grasping at something to look forward to, something to keep her going.
“Lucy.”
“I will. I know it sounds far away…” she says as she chews on her lip. “But you know how time flies, and then it will be Christmas and…” she trails off, both of them knowing she can’t make such a promise – not really.
“You can’t know you’ll be home for Christmas,” he reminds her gently, taking her hands in his and giving them a comforting squeeze. “And it’s okay. It’s okay if you’re not. It’s okay if it lasts longer than that. I don’t want you worrying about manufactured deadlines in your brain and letting them distract you. Just focus on the op and I’ll be here when you get home.”
“They said four to six weeks, max,” she clings to her theory of hope. “That leaves plenty of time for error. I’ll be home by Christmas.”
He pulls her to him, kisses her on her head, not willing to spend their last moments together debating this. “Just be careful,” he tells her softly. “Don’t worry about me, or Christmas, or what’s going on at home. Focus on the op.”
She nods, lingering in his embrace, knowing that when she pulls away it’s time for her to go, time for her to be Samantha and not Lucy. She finds these undercover operations harder and harder to do. She finds them somewhat more difficult when it’s not Tim she’s undercover with, or Tim who’s got her back and it’s becoming harder and harder to leave behind this life and be someone else.
The problem is she’s really begun to build a life she doesn’t want to leave behind.
“I will,” she assures him, eyes focused on his, voice strong and confident. “I promise.”
“I love you,” he tells her, looking down at her at the same moment she tilts her head up to look at him.
“I love you too,” she says, leaning up to kiss him. She intends for it to be quick and brief; one turns into two – the way they so often do – and the second one turns into a third that lasts just a little bit longer than either of them intends under lingering eyes of their fellow officers. Finally, she pulls away and gives him a smile, hoping he doesn’t see the tears in her eyes.
The idea of leaving him for so long: she hates it, despite the fact she enjoys undercover work. But she blinks away the tears, not wanting him to see, part of her still the rookie that wants to impress him with her strength.
“Christmas,” she says again, and he rolls his eyes good naturedly as she squeezes his hand one last time before she walks away to Nyla and her handler.
%%%%%
“You got plans for Christmas?” Angela asks as Tim looks up to see her in the doorway of his office. “Spending it with your sister?”
“She’s taking the boys back to see their dad,” he says simply as he looks back down at the paperwork he’s signing.
“You’re welcome at our place, you know. Christmas morning with two kids is going to be pure chaos. You’ll love it, I’m sure.”
Tim grumbles as he looks up at Angela again. “You don’t have to pity me.”
“I’m not pitying you!” she insists, walking inside and sitting down on one of the chairs facing his desk. “You’re my best friend. You’re family. And I’m just saying you have a place in our home if you don’t have anyone else to spend it with. Probably for Christmas Day, I don’t think you want to do Christmas Eve with Patrice but maybe I’m wrong.” Her eyes glint as she teases him, but he doesn’t take the bait, just nods. She sees the flash of sadness in his eyes before it disappears as quickly as it came. “I’m sure she’ll be home soon.”
He shrugs, trying his best to look unaffected. “Last I heard from Nyla, things were moving pretty slow.”
“Well, you know how these things go. It just takes one big break and that’s it.” He gives a huff that Angela thinks is meant to be a laugh, but she’s not really sure what it means. “I really respect you, you know,” she says and Tim looks up at her in question. “For going through all this again.”
“It’s Lucy,” he says simply, as if that explains it all, and Angela supposes it does.
“I know. But still.”
“I never thought I’d do this again,” he admits with a laugh. “But then Lucy came into my life and…”
“Let me ask you something,” Angela says. “Just between you and me, stays in this room. The truth.” Tim looks up at her curiously. “Do you ever wish she’d give it up?”
“No,” his answer comes fast and confidently. “I want her to do whatever she wants.”
Angela smiles. “You’re a good man. Let me know if you change your mind. We’ll have cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh, well, now you’ve sold me,” he teases and Angela laughs as she walks away, noticing the small, genuine smile playing on his lips.
When Tim gets home that night, after three texts from Angela about the possibilities of Christmas Day, he opens his door to Kojo who’s barking and excited to see him, tail wagging. He greets the dog, patting him on the head and promising him a walk, already gathering the leash when there’s a knock on the door.
Frowning and wondering why someone isn’t ringing the bell, he opens it and he does a double take at the vision on his doorstep.
Lucy.
If he thought he was seeing things, Kojo’s excited jumping and barking would tell him otherwise.
He hushes the dog, somehow, and just blinks at her, wondering if this is what actual shock feels like.
“I, uh, I thought about just letting myself inside, but you’re a cop, with cop instincts and a gun, so I thought this was safer.”
Tim rolls his eyes, the ability to speak suddenly finding him again. “I wouldn’t shoot you,” he counters. “Because I’m a cop. I don’t shoot at targets before I know who they are.”
“Are we really talking about this right now?”
“What are you doing here?” he asks, changing gears instantly, his voice turning soft.
“I told you I’d be home for Christmas.”
“Nyla said…”
“I told you I’d be home for Christmas,” she repeats.
He gives up the questions, realizes that Lucy is right here in front of him, and steps forward to hug her, pulling her into his embrace and refusing to let go as she latches her arms around his neck and his embrace around her waist tightens.
“You’re really here,” he realizes.
“I asked them to send someone else in,” she admits, carefully. “They weren’t connecting with me. That’s why it’s been dragging on for so long. They wouldn’t let me into their inner circle enough to really get into their operation. And anyway, I just… didn’t want to be there.”
“Lucy. Is this because of the whole getting home for Christmas thing, because I told you…”
“No.” He gives her a look, and she adds, “No, it’s not. It’s because I realized I don’t want to do this anymore. Not long term like this.”
He knows ever since they’ve been together, she’s been worried about how this will affect him, given his past with Isabel. He recalls moments where she presses him, the looks of worry and anxiety on her face when he insists that he can handle it and he’ll be fine. He thought he’d convinced her, but maybe not. “If you think I can’t handle it, I can. Look. I’m here. I’m fine.”
“It’s not you,” she says instantly. “It’s me.” She laughs at the cliche line that fell from her lips. “It’s me. I want to be with you for Christmas. For all holidays. And your birthday. And mine. All the time, actually. I want to be able to build a life and a family with you. I just… miss you when I’m there. In a way I have never, in my entire life, ever missed anyone and didn’t know was possible until now. I don’t want that life.”
“Oh,” he says simply.
Part of her is nervous at how he’ll react, the part of her that isn’t his girlfriend but his former rookie who always wants him to be proud of her. What would he say to his boot about walking away from undercover work for simply missing her boyfriend?
“Is that… are you…what do you think about that?”
“All I’ve ever wanted for you is for you to do what makes you happy.”
“I know,” she says, eyes stinging with tears. “I know. And the fact you have supported me through this no matter how hard it is, especially given everything, I… I know. And I love you.”
“I know,” he returns with a tease. “I love you too.”
She walks inside, looks around and gasps a little when she sees.
“You put up the tree.”
“Of course I did. I know how much you love it. And you weren’t here to do it, so…” She feels warmth all over, reaches out for him and pulls him down to her and wrapping her arms around him so that she can kiss him, finally, the way she’s been meaning to do since the second he opened the door. “I know tomorrow’s Christmas Eve already but we can do all the Christmas things you like…”
“Later,” she tells him, kissing him again with a grin.
“You know I hate shopping this close to the holidays but we still have time.”
“Later,” she repeats, tugging on his lower lip.
“We can probably still find those cookies you like from that bakery on…”
“Tim. Later,” she says, stepping back and tugging on his hand as she begins to pull him towards his bedroom. “Later we can do all that. After Christmas. Next year. I don’t know. But for Christmas all I want is you.”
She seems to have finally broken through to him and he returns her grin, stopping in his tracks as she continues to pull him towards the bedroom. “This might be the easiest Christmas I’ll ever have with you,” he states.
“Shut up,” she laughs even as he’s lifting her up into his arms, causing her to let out a noise that’s a cross between a gasp and a giggle.
(He doesn’t make it to Angela’s for cinnamon rolls.)