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The next morning, the sun streams through her blinds, casting stripes of light across her bed. Her phone rings, the harsh sound jolting her from sleep. She fumbles for it, her eyes blurry with fatigue. "Hello?" she croaks.

"Clark, it's Grey," the sergeant's voice is firm but gentle. "How are you doing?"

Lauren sits up, the sheet falling off her chest. "The pain's gone, and the bleeding's stopped," she says, her voice still groggy with sleep. The words feel foreign, as if she's recounting someone else's ordeal. She looks down at her side, the bandage now a stark white against her skin, a stark reminder of the previous day's events.

"Good," Sgt. Grey says, the relief in his voice unmistakable. "Come in today. We've got a briefing on new protocols. I want you there."

Lauren nods, the weight of his words sinking in. New protocols meant something had gone wrong, something that needed to be corrected. The thought sends a shiver down her spine, but she quickly shakes it off. "Yes, sir," she says, her voice strong despite the doubt in her mind.

As she heads to the station, she can't help but think about Tim. His vulnerability last night was like a crack in the stoic exterior he usually wore. She wonders if he's okay, if he's slept at all. She knows she'll have to tread lightly around him today, but she also knows that she'll be there if he needs her. Their friendship had always been a dance of flirty banter and mutual respect, but now there was a new layer of understanding between them.

When Lauren walks into the conference room, the buzz of conversation dies down. All eyes are on her, not just because she's late, but because of what happened yesterday. The rookies look at her with a mix of admiration and fear—admiration for her bravery and fear of the danger she faced. The other officers nod in greeting, their expressions a mix of concern and respect.

"Everyone have a seat," Sgt. Grey says, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. The chairs scrape against the floor as everyone sits, the tension in the room thick enough to slice. He looks at her, his eyes assessing, before he starts the briefing. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. The bandage on her side is a constant reminder of her vulnerability, but she's a cop, and she'll be damned if she lets it show.

"Today is a special day for our rookies," Sgt. Grey starts off, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Because today, we switch things up." He pauses, letting the words hang in the air like a challenge. The room buzzes with excitement and nervous energy as the rookies exchange glances, wondering what's in store for them.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk. "Everyone gets a new training officer."

The room erupts into murmurs, and Lauren can feel the excitement building. She glances at Tim, who meets her gaze with a smirk of his own. The tension between them is palpable, charged with the unspoken confessions of the night before.

"Nolan, you'll be riding with Officer Lopez," Sgt. Grey says, his eyes flicking to her briefly before moving on to the next rookie. The words are a surprise, a gentle push towards the unknown.

"West," he says, his eyes lingering on Tim, "you're with Bradford."

"Seals, you get to ride with bishop." The room goes quiet, the murmurs fading into a hushed anticipation as Grey pairs up the rookies with their new training officers for the day.

"And Chen," Grey finally says, turning to Lucy with a knowing smile. "That leaves you with Clark."

A ripple of surprise runs through the room, and Lucy's eyes widen as she looks over at Lauren, who tries to keep her expression neutral. It's clear that the sergeant has noticed their bond, and Lauren can't help but feel a twinge of nerves at what this new assignment might mean for their friendship.

"But learning how to navigate a new T.O is not your only challenge." Sgt. Grey continues, his eyes sweeping over the room, "By the end of your next shift, I expect every rookie to uncover something personal about their training officer."

The room erupts into 'ooo's' and whispers. It's an unorthodox order, one that surprises even the seasoned cops. The rookies look at each other, the realization setting in that their bonds with their new partners will be tested beyond the call of duty.

"Alright, that's it," Sgt. Grey concludes, slapping the podium with the palm of his hand. "Good luck and remember—what you learn today could save your life tomorrow."

The rookies file out of the conference room, the weight of their new assignments etched on their faces. Outside, the training officers stand in a loose semi-circle, each one watching the rookies with a mix of anticipation and wariness. Tim's eyes are fixed on Lauren, his hand idly tapping his holster.

Lauren quickly breaks eye contact with him and walks away, her boots clicking on the linoleum floor. She knows he's watching her, feels the heat of his gaze on her back, but she doesn't dare look back. She needs space, time to process what happened between them last night and what it could mean for their friendship.

In the locker room, she finds Lucy by the gear shop, meticulously checking her equipment. The younger officer looks up as she approaches, her eyes a mix of curiosity and concern. "How are you feeling?" Lucy asks, setting down the bulletproof vest she was holding.

"Fine," Lauren says with a shrug, "Just a flesh wound." She tries to keep her tone light, but the shadow of the incident still lingers.

They get into the car, Lauren behind the wheel, the engine purring to life as she adjusts the mirror. She glances at Lucy, who buckles up, her gaze reflecting a mix of determination and uncertainty. The car feels smaller with the new dynamics at play, the air thick with the scent of leather and the faint metallic smell of their holsters.

"So, what do you want to know?" Lauren asks, her voice steady, her eyes on the road ahead. Lucy looks at her, surprise flickering across her features.

"What? Oh, right. The assignment," Lucy says, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, I don't know. What's something personal about you that I don't know?"

Lauren keeps her eyes on the road, her mind racing. What could she possibly tell Lucy that she hasn't already shared? They've been through so much together in such a short amount of time, and yet, there was so much left unsaid.

"Well," she starts, her voice measured. "I dropped out of the police academy, then a year later went back."

Lucy's eyes widen. "You never mentioned that," she says, her voice a mix of surprise and respect. "Why did you drop out?"

Lauren takes a deep breath, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I didn't think I was ready," she admits, her eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. "The pressure was too much. I didn't think I could handle it, the responsibility of wearing the badge."

"But you came back," Lucy says, her voice filled with admiration. "That takes guts."

Lauren nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, I came back because of Tim." She admits, her gaze drifting to the side. The words hang in the air, a confession she's never voiced before. Tim's support and encouragement had been the catalyst for her return to the academy, the unspoken belief in her that had propelled her through the darkest moments of doubt.

Lucy cocks an eyebrow at Lauren, surprise etched on her features. "So, you guys go way back, not just partners in the academy back."

Lauren nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, we met at a bar here in L.A. He was going through his own troubles, and he talked about his dream of being a cop." She pauses, her eyes flicking to the side as she remembers the night in vivid detail. "I told him about dropping out of the academy, and he didn't judge me for it. He just listened."

Her voice trails off, and Lucy nods, understanding in her eyes. "He's a good guy," Lucy says. "I can see why you two are close."

Lauren smiles then, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and just as quickly, her smile fades. She's lost in thought, remembering the countless times Tim had been there for her, the way he had picked her up when she had stumbled, the way he had believed in her when she had lost faith in herself. Her radio crackles to life, the static breaking the quiet.

"7-Adam-12, we have a noise complaint at 425 Maple Street," the dispatcher's voice cuts through the silence.

Lauren's eyes refocus on the road ahead, the reality of the job bringing her back to the present. "Let's roll," she says, flipping on the sirens. The car's lights flash in the mirrors, casting red and blue patterns across the precinct's walls as they peel out of the parking lot. The wind whips through the open window, carrying the scent of the early morning city.

They arrive at the scene, the house in question pulsing with the thump of bass from within. Neighbors stand outside in their pajamas, glaring at the disturbance. Lauren's hand rests on the butt of her gun as they approach, her instincts sharpening. Lucy follows her lead, her eyes scanning the area.

They knock on the door, the music drowning out their calls for quiet. A young man, bleary-eyed and disheveled, finally opens up. He's immediately defensive, his chest puffed out. "What's the problem?" he slurs.

"Sir, we've had a noise complaint," Lauren says, her voice firm but calm. "Could you please turn down the music?"

The man's eyes narrow, and he takes a step back, the door swinging open wider to reveal a living room packed with partygoers. The bass thumps in Lauren's chest, the smell of alcohol and sweat wafting out into the cool night air. "It's just a party," he yells over the din. "We're not hurting anybody."

The scene takes Lauren back to a night years ago, a night she's tried so hard to forget. The smell of spilled beer and whiskey, the sound of laughter and shattered glass—it all hits her like a punch to the gut. She sees a younger version of herself in the corner of her mind's eye, caught in the arms of a man who never meant her well. His name was Alex, a charming, dangerous man who had drawn her in with his easy smiles and empty promises.

"Lauren? Hey," Lucy says, snapping her out of her thought.

"Uhm yeah, sorry" Lauren blinks, shaking off the memory.

The man's eyes narrow, sensing something is off. "Is that all?" he says, his voice a mix of annoyance and confusion.

Lauren nods, forcing a smile. "That's all for now. Just keep the music down, okay?" She turns around, her boots echoing on the pavement as she heads back to the car. Lucy follows, her eyes questioning, but she doesn't say a word.

Once back inside, Lauren takes a deep breath, her hand hovering over the radio. "7-Adam-12, scene is show 4," she says into the microphone, her voice steady.

As they drive away from the party house, Lucy looks at her with a concerned expression. "You okay?" she asks, the roar of the sirens fading into the background.

Lauren nods, her eyes on the road. "Just a... flashback." She clears her throat. "Let's just say I know the party scene all too well."

The rest of the shift passes in a blur of routine calls—disturbances, minor thefts, a couple of car chases. They're nothing Lauren can't handle, but she feels the weight of her past pressing down on her, especially as Lucy's curiosity about her personal life grows.

"Abusive ex, right?" Lucy blurts out as they sit in the car, catching Lauren off-guard. She'd been lost in thought, her mind still reeling from the noise complaint.

Lauren's eyes snap to Lucy, the question hanging in the air like a grenade. "What makes you say that?" she asks, her voice carefully controlled.

"Just the way you looked," Lucy says, her voice soft. "You flinched when he opened the door."

Lauren sighs, the weight of her past sitting heavy on her shoulders. She turns to Lucy, her eyes searching the other rookie's face for judgment, but all she finds is understanding. "It was a mistake," she admits. "I thought I could handle it, but I ended up in the hospital many times."

Lucy nods, her hand reaching out to give Lauren's arm a comforting squeeze. "You don't have to tell me everything," she says gently. "But just know that you can talk to me if you need to."

The words resonate with Lauren, and she feels a small flicker of warmth in her chest. Maybe it's time to let someone else in, she thinks, as they pull over to the side of the road for a coffee break.

The sun is high in the sky, casting a harsh glow on the dashboard as they sit in silence. The smell of brewing coffee fills the car, mixing with the faint scent of antiseptic from Lauren's bandage. She takes a sip, the bitter taste grounds her in the present, reminding her of the woman she's become.

As the day stretches on, they respond to more calls—a jumper on the edge of a building, a tense standoff with a man holding a gun, and a heart-wrenching case of a missing child. Each incident chips away at the armor they've built around their hearts, but they press on, driven by the unspoken promise to serve and protect.

When they finally pull into the station's parking lot, the sun is setting, casting long shadows across the concrete. Lauren steps out of the car, her body aching from the day's exertions. She glances over at Lucy, who looks just as worn out.

"You did good today," Lauren says, her voice tired but sincere.

"Thanks," Lucy says, her eyes searching Lauren's. "I couldn't have done it without you."

They walk into the precinct, the cacophony of voices and ringing phones washing over them like a wave. Lauren's steps are heavier than usual, the weight of the day clinging to her like a second skin. She heads to the locker room, the need to shed her uniform almost a physical one. As she unbuttons her shirt, the fabric sticking to her sweat-dampened skin, she can't help but think about the shift they've just survived. It's days like these that remind her why she's a cop—why she puts her life on the line for strangers.

In the locker room, she changes into jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, the fabric a welcome relief against her skin. The simple act of changing out of her uniform feels like peeling back a layer of the day's horrors. She glances at herself in the mirror, the woman staring back at her looking both stronger and more fragile than she ever has before. The bandage on her side is a stark reminder of her own vulnerability, but she's not about to let it define her.

Walking out into the bullpen, Lauren spots Tim across the room, his eyes finding hers almost immediately. The tension between them is palpable, the air crackling with unspoken words. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever is to come. He approaches her, his gait steady, his eyes unreadable.

"How'd it go with Chen?" he asks, his voice low, a hint of concern lacing his words.

Lauren shrugs, trying to play it cool. "It was... interesting," she replies, her gaze flicking to Lucy, who is chatting with Nolan a few feet away. "We had a good shift."

Tim nods, his expression unreadable. "Look, about last night," he says, his voice low, "I just wanted to check on you, make sure you're okay."

Lauren's heart skips a beat. "I'm fine," she says, her voice a little too bright. "Thanks for the concern." She doesn't meet his gaze, focusing instead on the sound of their shoes echoing in the large room.

Tim steps closer, his hand lightly touching her arm. "Lauren..."

Lauren takes a step back, "I'm okay Tim, really." She tries to keep her voice from betraying the tumult of emotions swirling within her.

Tim's eyes search hers for a moment before he nods, his hand dropping away. "Alright," he says, his voice gruff. "Just remember, I'm here if you need anything."

Lauren nods, her throat tightening. She wants to say more, to tell him how much his support means to her, but the words are lodged in her chest, a knot of fear and hope. Instead, she offers a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you, Tim."

Their eyes hold for a beat too long before she breaks the contact, turning to grab her things. As she walks away, she can feel his gaze on her back, the heat of it like a brand. She heads towards the exit, the sound of her boots echoing through the precinct.

Once Lauren gets to her apartment, she takes a deep breath, the quiet of her living room a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. She tosses her keys onto the counter, the clatter echoing through the small space. The silence is almost deafening, the only sound the hum of the fridge and the distant wail of a siren. She makes her way to the bathroom, peeling off the bandage to examine the bruise blossoming on her side. It's a painful reminder of the day's events, but it's also a badge of honor—proof that she's still standing.

🚓...🤍

KATE SPEAKS!

AH MY BABIES I LOVE THEM