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John Nolan was convinced he had Sgt. Bradford all figured out. The man was a tightass, a stickler for rules, and, most importantly, a conceited control-freak. Not that Bradford had given him an opportunity to form a less hostile opinion of him. He seemed to exist solely in the station, appearing to just evaporate once off the clock.
That being said, Nolan held a special kind of respect for Bradford, not that, that would mean anything of importance to him. He was the first to jump into action, the first to fearlessly stand in front of a swinging knife. Nolan was just as impressed with him as he was terrified.
Someone could point a gun between Tim Bradford’s eyes and say, “move.” To which he would reply, “no, you move.”
Within the first few months of being a rookie, Nolan couldn’t help but feel terrified for Bradford’s family. He understands the fear his own son feels for him, so he likes to think he tries his best to stay away from the gunfire and the knife fights, but he appreciates it comes with the job. However, Bradford, like a moth to a flame, is attracted to the danger.
As time passed, Nolan considered the fact that Bradford didn’t have any family. It would explain his selfless stupidity. He never spoke about his personal life and when prompted, he would grunt, “no personal business in my shop, Boot.”
Even Angela Lopez, who seemed closest with Bradford, didn’t know much about his personal life. When Nolan gathered up the courage to ask about him, Lopez just shrugged, “he likes to keep home and work separate.”
He assumed Lopez must have told Bradford about his snooping because he made the next week at work particularly difficult. From then, he decided to make it his mission to learn as many things about the mystery man as possible.
Since then, he had learned approximately three things:
1. Bradford drinks his coffee black, which surprised absolutely no-one. Nolan, unfortunately, found this out when he mistook his own coffee cup for Bradford’s. He then spent the next week doing 10 pushups after every call.
2. He once got mistaken for a stripper while on shift, as exposed by Grey.
3. He smiled at his phone, once. Not even a quick quirk of the lips, but a full blown beam. When Nolan brought it up, he was not impressed.
They had just finished up with a call, and now they were drifting in between streets. Nolan heard a phone buzz and his hands instinctively went to grab his own, before realising it was Bradford’s. Bradford only ever has his phone on silent.
Nolan watched out of the corner of his eye as Bradford’s fingers tapped restlessly on his pocket, presumably where his phone resided, while he decided whether to check the reason behind the buzzing. Eventually, he lost the battle with reason and pulled out his phone. Nolan watched carefully as his eyes scanned the message, slowly, as if savouring whatever it said. Then, miraculously, the corners of his lips slowly started to turn upwards. Nolan thought it would stop there, but then his grin bared so widely he saw teeth.
“Is that your girlfriend, sir?” Nolan asked, a teasing smile playing on his own lips.
Bradford’s phone was immediately shoved back into his pocket.
“Have I done something, Boot, that’s given you the impression that you can ask me personal questions?” He questioned, his hands fierce on the wheel as he eyed Nolan from the corner of his eye.
“No, sir,” he immediately replied.
Bradford never once took out his phone again on shift.
Despite his prickly exterior, Nolan liked the guy. He was a great cop, and he cared about the work he was doing. They had that in common.
One of the things he admired most about Bradford was his ability to walk off a fight. He’d seen Bradford endure punch after punch, yet still walk away like it hadn’t happened. He had even watched Bradford take a penknife to the shoulder, and then drive himself to the hospital.
So, after some particularly nasty armed robbers were in custody, Nolan was immediately concerned when he noticed Bradford’s slumped body against a glass wall, blood smeared behind him.
“Hey!” Nolan called out, rushing over to Bradford. “I need help over here!”
He tore open Bradford’s uniform, taken back by the blossoming of red soaking his white undershirt. Lopez lowered herself next to him, immediately pressing her hands against the wound.
“The knife,” Nolan mumbled, staring at Lopez’s quickly reddening hands. “It tore through the vest.”
Lopez and Nolan exchanged uneasy glances. They had no idea how long they had been sat there until the ambulance arrived, but before they knew it, Bradford was hoisted up onto a gurney and pushed into the ambulance. The doors were shut in the officers faces before any other decisions could be made.
“I’ll meet you there,” Lopez said, before rushing to her own shop.
-
Hospitals irked Nolan out. The long visits during his son’s youth made waiting rooms a very uncomfortable place, so sitting in those hard chairs brought back some memories he did not want to relive.
The waiting room was occupied by a line of blue, sat apprehensive for news was Nolan, Lopez, Harper and Grey. Lopez’s knee was bouncing up and down, as it had been for the past three hours while Bradford was in surgery.
“He’ll be fine,” Nolan whispered to her, trying to ease her concerns.
“I know,” she answered, sounding less than convinced.
Suddenly, a doctor appeared in the waiting room doorway, looking incredibly disheveled but overall calm.
“Tim Bradford?” she asked, scanning the room.
Nolan was about to stand, but a female voice came from behind them.
“Yes, here,” she rushed towards the doctor, her long, dark hair flipping behind her in a ponytail. Her eyes were lined with red, a sign she’d been crying previously.
Silently, the rest of the officers stood up, hovering behind the mystery woman. There were confused glances between everyone, and Nolan was glad he was not the only one out of the loop for once.
“How is he?” she asked desperately.
“Surgery went well with no complications. He’s been taken to a room where he’s now recovering. Anaesthesia is just wearing off, so if you’d all like to follow me, he is ready to see you.”
Relief seeped out of her shoulders as she followed the doctor to his room, seemingly unaware of the group of cops behind her. As soon as the doctor opened the door to Bradford’s room, Nolan watched as his eyes snapped to the mystery woman’s with such admiration.
She immediately slowed upon entering the room, sighing with relief, “Oh, Tim.”
“How angry with me are you?” He cautiously smiled, his eyes warm and with no regard for this coworkers behind him.
The mystery woman choked out a teary chuckle, “So, so angry.” She made her way to his side and carefully sat on the edge of his bed.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” he beamed up at her, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. At that, she let her head drop to his shoulder.
“Okay, tough guy,” she joked.
Nolan let his eyes drift to his colleagues. They all looked taken by the exchange between their Sergeant and this mystery woman, even Grey, but there was underlying, shared confusion.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” the woman shared, leaning close towards him.
“So am I, otherwise I wouldn’t get to do this,” Tim smiled gently, looking so vulnerable as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the woman’s lips.
That was when Grey cleared his throat. Bradford paused, his lips still hovering against the woman’s before pulling back with a groan. “Hello, sir,” he said, leaning back into the hospital bed. “Didn’t realise we had an audience.”
The woman at his side only giggled, slowly looking up at the room full of people.
“We, uh, we just wanted to check on you, son,” Grey replied, crossing his arms across his chest.
“After you got stabbed,” Angela emphasised, vaguely angrily.
“Consider me checked on,” Tim smiled falsely. “Now, you may go.”
“Uh, no,” Nolan said. Bradford’s eyes immediately found his, fierce and full of warning. In a hospital bed with a healing stab wound and a woman he clearly cares for on his arm, Nolan had a new found confidence to ask Tim Bradford a personal question. “Who’s this?”
Bradford’s eyes immediately narrowed as his hand on her waist tightened slightly. “None of your busin—“
“Lucy Chen,” she cut him off, standing up and immediately offering her hand. “Tim’s—“
It was his turn to cut her off. “None of your business, Boot,” he warned Nolan.
“Face it, Bradford. You’re in a corner with a man who loves his questions,” Harper stated, amusedly leaning against the doorframe.
Tim tightened his jaw.
Nolan smiled back at him.
“Lucy’s my girlfriend,” he relented, ignoring how wide Lucy was currently smiling.
“And I am so glad to be meeting you all!” Lucy beamed. “I have heard so much about you all.”
“Really?” Angela asked, her eyebrows impossibly high on her head. “This is the first we’re hearing of you.”
“Not surprising,” Lucy rolled her eyes fondly, sitting back down next to Tim and leaning into his shoulder. “Keeps his cards close to his chest, doesn’t he?”
Instinctively, Tim’s arm went back around her waist and he pressed a kiss to her temple before he even realised what he was doing. “Well, someone’s gotta try and keep you away from trouble, hey?”
“And your friends are trouble?” Lucy teased.
“No, but the job is,” he instantly replied, which gave John the impression they’ve had this discussion before.
“You consider us friends?” Nolan asked, a wide grin on his pleased face.
“She wasn’t including you in that, Boot,” Bradford said and turned his face away from Lucy to glare at him.
“So, Lucy,” Angela interrupted. “What is it you do?”
“I’m actually a PHD Psychology student,” she beamed, clearly proud of herself. “I’m actually currently writing my dissertation on the effects being a cop has on mental health. Tim’s my muse, if you will,” she joked, to which he playfully rolled his eyes.
“She started her research before we even met,” Tim filled in.
“Speaking of, how did you two meet?” Nolan asked.
The two shared a strange look. Tim’s eyes flashed a look of playful warning, while Lucy’s looked all too pleased with herself. She smiled at him teasingly.
“I was walking home and—“
“Lucy,” Tim hastily interrupted, raising an eyebrow warningly.
“And! And, I start hearing this god awful singing! Naturally, I go to check it out. Turns out it’s this guy,” she dramatically points to Tim. “Singing ‘Don’t Rain on my Parade’ in a police car! It was awful. I’ve never heard someone be so musically inept in my life!” She was giggling into Tim’s shoulder, who was shaking his head.
“I’ve just been stabbed, and you do this to me?” He asked with false annoyance.
“Then,” Lucy continued, breathing through her laughter. “I tapped on his window. He screamed!”
“Oh, you’re telling me big, ‘ole Tim Bradford screamed like a little girl?” Harper questioned, her eyes lit up in amusement.
“Absolutely, he did! I said the only way I’d keep quiet about it is if he took me out to dinner,” Lucy grinned, staring down at Tim while her fingers brushed through his hair. “The rest is history.”
“The rest is history,” Tim echoed, staring up at her lovingly. Seemingly, he realised the presence of everyone else again before turning back to them. “That’s enough, don’t you all have jobs to get back to?”
“He’s right,” Grey recognised. “Everyone hit the streets. And Bradford?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Everyone shuffled out of the room, leaving Tim and Lucy.
“You’re not mad at me for telling that story, are you?” Lucy questioned, running her fingers down from his hair to his jaw.
“Only if you’re not mad at me for getting a knife put in me earlier,” he responded, placing his hands above hers.
She smiled, “I’ll let you off this time.”