However Do You Want Me... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 3

"Not... exes...?" Lisa asks slowly, glancing between Tim and Lucy with a dumbfounded expression on her face. "The way you two were bickering on that documentary, I thought for sure... Well, never mind, then, you're still ex-partners, are you not? And you know what they say, fake it till you make it, and we'll fix the rest in editing."

"Who says that?" Tim asks.

Lucy simultaneously bursts out with her own objection, "That's not an option."

Lisa's brows knit together, seemingly unsure who to respond to first.

"Our professional reputations are at stake. Tim was my boss. We can't afford to have people think that we were romantically involved."

"I don't know what you want me to say. You both signed a contract and the show maintains complete creative control. But, look, is it really that big of a deal? He's not your boss anymore, is he?"

"But —"

Lisa sighs, clearly running out of patience for the conversation as she glances at her watch, "Look. This is more than I offer most people, but, as a woman, I can empathize with where you're coming from. We can film a confessional. You two can explain how you hooked up after he was no longer your boss."

"But we didn't!" Lucy and Tim sputter in unison.

Lisa rolls her eyes and steps around them both to exit the room. "Did you miss the part about this being reality TV? No one actually cares whether you did or you didn't. It's really the best I can offer. Think about it, and let me know. And just remember, at the end of the day, those precious puppies are counting on you. I know you don't want to let them down."

"Children," Lucy grumbles the correction under her breath as Lisa exits, before turning her troubled gaze toward Tim.

They stare at each other in equally mortified silence before Tim finally offers, "We can quit. They can't force us to do this."

Lucy snorts, "Right... and I'm sure the LAPD will jump at the opportunity to provide us with the best lawyers money can buy when the show sues us for breach of contract."

"Okay... then we bomb the first competition and get ourselves eliminated right out the gate..."

Lucy mulls the idea over before shaking her head in frustration. "Even if we leave in the first episode... the damage will be done... Everyone is going to think we hooked up AND we'll look like total losers. Not to mention, we will have won nothing for the orphanage."

"Hospital," Tim's lips quirk slightly as he corrects her. Lucy shoots him her best silent whatever glare as he continues, "So what, then? We just give in and go along?"

Lucy shrugs helplessly. "I don't know... it's not like we can set the record straight here; they'll edit it to tell whatever story they want to tell. We need a way to control the narrative." Her eyes brighten as the beginning of an idea comes to her. "But if we were to win...."

Tim nods slowly as he follows Lucy's train of thought. "We'd have our own platform..."

"Exactly... interviews on GMA, the cover of US Weekly, thousands of followers... Everyone loves a good reality TV tell-all..."

"Well, if you ask me, the only point of being here at all was to win. This is just all the more reason..." Lucy vigorously nods her agreement as Tim extends his hand to her, "To winning..."

"To winning... whatever it takes."

***

Lucy sleeps fitfully that night, tossing and turning, unable to settle herself in the unfamiliar room surrounded by drunken strangers.

She's not sure what time it is when Tim tiredly reaches for her from his adjacent cot, but she knows it must be late given how the sounds of partying throughout the rest of the house have faded.

"Chen," he rasps tiredly before grasping hold of her wrist as he sits up, tugging her with him as he gets to his feet and shuffles out of the bedroom and into the still-lit hallway.

Lucy feels a slight tug in her chest as her eyes adjust and she takes in how vulnerable he looks in his half-asleep state, without his normal walls of gruffness and sarcasm firmly in place. Hair tousled and eyes bleary, he studies her before turning and continuing to pull her with him down the stairs and into the now empty and visibly trashed combination kitchen and living area.

He releases her and nods toward the island stools before turning to search through the kitchen cabinets."What's wrong?" he finally asks, voice still rough with sleep, as he slides a box of assorted tea across the island to her.

She smiles softly at the gesture as he turns away from her again to start water boiling in the kettle.

She selects out a bag of chamomile tea and shrugs helplessly when he turns back to her. "I don't know. I'm sorry I woke you. It's just... it's not weird for you? Sleeping in a strange bed? In a strange place? Surrounded by strange people?"

Tim returns her shrug, "Not really... I mean, yes, it's strange. And, yes, I'd rather be in my own bed. But I guess I got used to being able to sleep in just about any situation when I was in the military."

Lucy nods slowly, his explanation making perfect sense and reminding her for the second time since arriving into this reality TV nightmare that even though she feels like she knows Tim, really and truly knows him — who he is, what he values, what he's thinking, how he'll react in a given moment — there is still a lot that she doesn't know about him, a lot that she still wants to know.

He softens. "I'm sure it'll get easier; it's only the first night. But... we can't win this thing if you don't get some actual rest." He pushes a mug full of the heated water across the countertop toward her, before making his way around to claim the stool next to her.

It's silent for a few moments as Lucy lets her tea steep. "You're different here... than I thought you'd be," she finally ventures.

Tim glances at her in confusion, "It's been less than a day."

"I know... it's just... I thought you were going to absolutely hate everything about it and be a gigantic pain in my ass the whole time... but instead, it's like you fit right in, and I'm the one who is completely out of my element."

"It's been less than a day," Tim repeats, a gentleness in his tone that is both achingly familiar and unfamiliar to Lucy in how infrequently he allows it to surface between them. "You adapted to going undercover as a chemist for a major drug operation; I have no doubt you'll be able to adapt to whatever fresh hell this is. And, as for me, if I have to be here, then I figure I may as well make the best of it and try and have a good time. Plus, the game is more than just the physical competition, it's social, too, and we're here to win, aren't we?"

Lucy nods her agreement, and he doesn't say anything further and neither does she. He just sits there as she slowly sips the tea, his silent presence at her side even more comforting to Lucy than the warmth of the tea sliding down her throat and radiating through her core.

When they make their way back upstairs and each settles back into their individual cots, Lucy is surprised when he reaches toward her again, his hand coming to a rest on the side of her bed. And she finds herself floored by the small gesture — there's no way it's comfortable for him to have his arm awkwardly extended out across the gap between their two cots. Without giving it a second thought, she slips her hand into his, first curling her fingers and then her entire body in around the piece of himself he's extended to her — a simple gesture intended to bring her comfort, the warmth of his grip accomplishing just that.