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“You really didn’t have to do this,” Lucy reminds Tim as she lifts the menu in front of her.
She’s pretty sure this restaurant is the most elegant place she’s ever set foot in. Low, warm lights line the walls, illuminating wine glasses and tasteful flower arrangements and expensive dishes she’s always dreamed of trying but never had the money to justify. A man in a suit had held the door open when they’d walked in, and the waiters glide through the room with an ease she’s never seen anywhere else, topping off water and wine with smiles and poise.
“Of course I did,” Tim says. He doesn’t pick up his menu just yet, his eyes still trained on her. “I wanted to celebrate your achievements in the way you deserve. This is a huge milestone in your career.”
He’d done something when she was first promoted, obviously—flowers and a nice bottle of wine dropped at her front door, unsure and restrained and not wanting to cross the boundaries she’d put in place—but as soon as they got back together, Tim had insisted on taking her out to celebrate her promotion ‘properly’. It’s taken a few weeks to get around to because she’s still been working the night shift, but on Monday, she finally starts as the day shift’s roving supervisor.
She’s taken a few days off in the run-up, partially in the hopes of giving her body some time to adjust back to normal-people working hours, and partially so she can start packing everything she owns into boxes.
They’re moving her things into Tim’s place this weekend, the next phase of their relationship almost in full swing, and she and Tim are aware their lives are about to be overflowing with stress amidst cardboard boxes and new jobs. Sure, they could’ve put the move on hold while they both adjusted to their new roles, but after all the time they’ve been without each other, neither of them wanted to waste another minute. So, they thought this night out would be the perfect way to spend an evening before the chaos begins—marking a relationship milestone with the celebration of a career one.
They’re doing pretty well for themselves, right now.
Tim had picked her up at her apartment with a huge bouquet of flowers, keeping his lips sealed about where he was taking her, no matter how much Lucy had prodded. And then their Uber had pulled up outside a restaurant she’s been dying to try for years. Not only are the prices eye-watering, but the waitlist is a mile long—Tim just said he’d “pulled some strings” and left it at that.
And here they are. Together. She’s a sergeant, and he’s her boyfriend again, and she’s in this beautiful place she’s always wanted to go, with her favourite person sat across from her. It doesn’t get much more perfect than this.
After they place their order, the waiter comes over with an ice bucket, two champagne flutes, and a bottle of champagne that they definitely didn’t ask for. Lucy’s about to interject, but Tim just thanks the man as he sets the flutes down and tells them the name of a champagne that sounds far too expensive as he pours it into their glasses, taking his leave with a polite smile.
“Did you do this?” Lucy asks.
Tim just shrugs coyly, taking the stem of his glass between his fingers. “I might’ve put a request on the booking. We’re here to celebrate, after all.”
He lifts his glass in a toast, and Lucy can already feel herself getting teary-eyed.
“To Mid-Wilshire’s newest sergeant,” he says. “I already know you’re going to be the best of us.”
Lifting her own glass, Lucy clinks it against his, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
The champagne is perfect, light and fruity with a soft fizz, exactly how she likes it.
She lifts her eyes from her glass back to their expensive surroundings, with custom serviettes and champagne kept in a goddamn ice bucket.
“The closest we got to celebrating my last promotion was me setting off a powder bomb in your face in the station parking lot,” Lucy notes.
“Yeah,” Tim chuckles, “this is a far cry from that.”
Returning her gaze to Tim, Lucy tries to reconcile the memory of him covered in flour with the man donning the sharp suit in front of her, the one currently looking at her like she’s the only person in the room.
“That feels like a lifetime ago,” she says.
He gives her a gentle shrug. “It was.”
It might have only been a couple of years, but… he’s not wrong. “We were different people back then. P2-me never would’ve thought she’d be here, with you of all people.”
“P2-Lucy told me she had feelings for me as a prank.”
Caught off guard by the memory, Lucy lets out a cackle that is definitely not fitting of their surroundings, but she doesn’t care. “Oh my God, I almost forgot about that.”
It’s funny how things change.
“This is the part where you reveal this has been a long-con,” Tim jokes.
Reaching across the table, Lucy takes his hand, looking into his eyes with all the love in her heart as she blows out a heavy sigh.
“Look, Tim, I’m sorry to do this, but… you’re right, and I—I can’t keep stringing you on like this. I’m just here for the food.”
He rolls his eyes, his grin mirroring her affection.
“On a serious note, though, this is kind of perfect timing,” Lucy realises, squeezing his hand, “because now, we can also celebrate you—Mid Wilshire’s new Watch Commander.”
Tim is quick to shake his head, though. “Nope. Tonight is about you.”
“Why can’t it be about both of us?” Lucy frowns.
“Because I’m Watch Commander now, and I say so.”
She tuts and kicks him lightly under the table. “Just accept the praise.”
For good measure, she clinks her glass against his again in a silent toast before he can stop her.
“And anyway,” she continues after taking another sip of her champagne, “you helped me study, so you get some of the credit.”
Tim scrunches his nose, clearly disagreeing with the sentiment. “That’s not how that works. And even if it was, you helped me too, so we’re even.”
“That’s true,” she realises. They are even. “Kind of cute, isn’t it? It’s like we’re coming full-circle. We’re both where we are because of each other, in a way.”
Tim’s eyes narrow. “That sounds dangerously co-dependent.”
She shoots him an exasperated look. “You know what I mean.”
The way his gaze softens tells her that he does. “Helping each other out is kind of what we do.”
Their appetizers arrive as they finish their first glasses of champagne. The food is as good as it looks, and Lucy can’t help her smile as she takes her first bite.
“Thank you again for this, Tim. This is amazing.”
She could swear his responding smile glows in the candlelight, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re welcome,” he says. “Enjoy, you deserve it.”
But even as he takes a bite of his own food, Lucy can’t take her eyes off him, her mind spinning with everything they’ve endured to get here. Even after months of pain and wishing things were different, they’ve found their way here, a perfect chain of events leading them to this very moment.
It’s a few beats before Tim looks up and catches her staring, his brows drawing together a little. “What is it?”
She gives him a single-shoulder shrug. “It’s just… I don’t know, look at us,” she smiles. “Watch Commander, patrol supervisor, back together, moving in together, enjoying places like this… we’re kind of on a pretty good winning streak right now.”
Taking in her words, Tim nods slowly. “Well, I can’t help but feel like we’re owed it. We almost burned alive last year.”
He takes another casual forkful of his appetizer like he didn’t just say that, and Lucy bursts out laughing.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” she laughs with a nod. “The powers that be owe us big time—a lifetime of smooth sailing awaits.”
She’s met with nothing but silence and a single raised eyebrow, and she points her fork at him.
“Shut up.”
Tim raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
By the time their entrées arrive, they’re savouring their second glasses of champagne, making light conversation as they enjoy the serene familiarity of the other’s company. It’s funny—even in a place like this, with the tables booked out around them and waiters constantly gliding between the tables, it somehow still feels like they’re the only two people in the world, enclosed in a perfect bubble of peace.
Their entrées are somehow even better than the starters. Lucy knows she shouldn’t be surprised, but—
“It shouldn’t be possible for food to taste this good,” she says, the perfectly light-yet-somehow-rich pasta sauce probably the most incredible thing she’s ever eaten. “This plate is beyond the laws of science.”
Tim laughs around his own mouthful, his eyes sparkling. “You think so?”
“I know so.” She pushes her plate towards him. “Try some.”
Twirling a single strand of pasta around his fork, Tim tries it. She leans closer, waiting for his reaction, and his slow nod of approval is all she needs.
“Right?” she prods.
“Yeah that’s—yeah,” he chuckles. “That’s pretty good.”
“I don’t understand how it’s possible. People are so talented.”
“That they are.” As she pulls her plate back towards her, Tim pushes his own her way. “Try some of this.”
She tries a forkful of his tortellini, and it’s a whole different experience. “Ooh, that’s good,” she says. “How did they get that smokiness in there?”
“The description said they used charred vegetables in the sauce.”
“Amazing.” She steals another bite before returning to her own plate, eyeing the remnants of the elegant plating, the balanced flavours, even the sheen of the silverware. “You know, we need to come out for fancy dinners more often,” she realises.
She can already hear Tim’s protests before he speaks a single word, and rushes to clarify.
“Not—not every week, and maybe not in places as luxurious as this, but… once a month, or once every few weeks or something, we could get dressed up and go somewhere nice. It’s fun, getting out of the house and trying new things.”
In the moment of silence that follows, she braces herself for Mr. Creature Comforts to push back on the idea.
Safe to say, his response surprises her. “You’re right, we should.”
Lucy’s eyebrows shoot up. The Tim of a few years ago was practically allergic to the word new. He’s always been a man of habit, a life constructed of routines and predictability off the clock. She’s never blamed him—every day on the job is like rolling a dice, and Tim likes to have some semblance of control wherever he can. But this, this is a different side of him.
“I know I’m right,” she grins, unabashedly proud of how much he’s grown.
Over the rest of the meal, they switch between comfortable silence and easy conversation, and it’s as effortless as it’s always been. They talk about moving, and about the prospect of Miles moving in with Celina. That’s going to be interesting—Lucy’s always sensed there might be something between the two of them, and this is where she’ll find out if her suspicions are true. Tim claims he’s never noticed anything, but Lucy knows he’s been far too focused on getting her trust back to be paying attention to anyone else.
Plus, she’s always been his reliable source of gossip, so he must’ve missed out on a lot while they were still getting back to comfortable talking terms. Now that they’re moving in together, she’ll get to keep him up-to-date on everything, curled up on their couch every night, or over breakfast, or on their drives to work.
Once their entrées are cleared away, they sip their way through another glass of champagne, and before they’re even handed a dessert menu, a waitress silently sets two spoons on their table.
Lucy barely has time to furrow her brows in confusion before another waitress is coming along, laying a large panna cotta in the centre of the table. It’s topped with passion fruit, and decorated with a sunset-orange syrup forming a cursive script: Congratulations Lucy!
“Oh my God,” she exclaims. “Thank you!”
The waitress nods, shooting her a polite smile. “Congratulations, ma’am.”
As she leaves, Lucy looks across the table to see her boyfriend’s affectionate smile. “Tim.”
“Enjoy.”
“Thank you, this is…” She’s lost for words, every synonym for amazing and incredible and beautiful dissolving in her brain. With a shake of her head, she takes a spoonful of the delicate dessert, and—“Oh my God.”
“It’s good? I know passion fruit is one of your favourites.”
Instead of giving him an answer, she picks up another bite with her spoon and holds it out to him. “Try it.”
He laughs, leaning forwards and accepting the offered mouthful. His gentle pleased hum tells her everything, and she hands him the second spoon so they can share the rest of it.
Before they know it, they’ve shared the last bite of dessert, the champagne bottle is empty, the ice bucket now just frigid water, and their dinner is over. Tim picks up the cheque despite Lucy’s best efforts to fight him on it, and they call their Uber.
Back in her apartment, they settle on her couch for one of the final times, surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes containing half her possessions. It might be slightly less elegant than the restaurant ambience, but there’s something just as intimate about it, the awareness that, in a couple of days, all these things will be in his house—their home.
“Thank you for tonight,” Lucy says, handing Tim the glass of wine she’s just poured.
“You’re welcome,” Tim says, again. “You deserve to be celebrated.”
He holds up his glass to clink it against hers for the third time tonight, and Lucy presses her lips to his as the delicate sound rings out.
When Tim pulls away, he sets the glass down and twists to reach behind the arm of the couch in a manner that feels all too familiar.
“I do have one last surprise for you,” he says.
“What?”
He picks up a gift bag she hadn’t spotted before—he must’ve dropped it off inside when he came to pick her up earlier—and presents it to her, a soft smile on his face. Removing the tissue paper from the top of the bag, Lucy pulls something out.
It’s a trophy, only there’s no sharpie on it this time, creating a grammatical abomination with its ink. It’s just… there, etched into the gold plating: 1st.
The tears well up instantly, and she pulls him by the front of his shirt to clash her lips against his.
“You like it?” he laughs against her mouth.
“It’s perfect.”
God, she really has gotten so lucky.
Last time Tim had handed her a trophy, Lucy thought she’d failed, that’d she’d let him down, and everything that followed just felt like she was tumbling down an endless hill with nothing to cushion her landing. But now, she swears every star is aligning, the universe paying them back for every obstacle they’ve faced with win after win after win.
It’s been months of heartache and longing and wondering when things were finally going to change for the better—and right now, at long last, she’s on top of the world.