Cold Feet - Elisa_Beth84 - The Rookie (TV 2018) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

“Lucy?”

She turns from the full-length mirror, smiling at her friend. “Hey, John. Are we ready to go?” She glances at her watch before realizing he has his death notice face on, and she feels a moment of panic. “What’s wrong?”

“Luce, it’s a quarter to four, and Tim isn’t here.”

When he doesn’t go on, she relaxes. “He’ll be here,” she waves him off. Nolan opens his mouth to speak again, but she turns him toward the door. “He’ll be here. He’s not even late yet.”

The older man presses his lips together, raising a skeptical brow, but doesn’t say anything. Lucy turns back to the mirror as he slips out the door, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

~~~~~~

“How did she take it?” Aaron asks nervously when Nolan returns to the garden. They had selected their most compassionate friend (second only to Lucy, of course) to deliver the news that the groom is MIA.

Nolan shrugs, shaking his head. “She says he’ll be here.”

Angela scoffs, “The ceremony starts in ten minutes! Tim Bradford does not cut it this close.”

“She’s not worried,” he continues. “I’ve actually never seen a bride so calm. It’s kind of eerie.”

She dials his number again and this time someone answers, but it’s not the voice she expects. “Hello?”

“ Smitty? ” Angela checks the screen; she did in fact call Tim. “What the hell are you doing with Tim’s phone? Where is he?”

“I didn’t know it was Bradford’s phone, I just got tired of hearing it ring.” She starts walking toward the dressing rooms on a hunch. Smitty was following the appetizer trays earlier, but they stopped serving before the ceremony. “I’m trying to catch a nap before they serve dinner.”

As she approaches the groom’s dressing room, Smitty’s gravelly voice drifts into the hall. Angela throws the door open, causing him to jump. Aaron, Nolan and Nyla are right behind her.

“Where the hell is Tim?” Nyla snaps.

“How should I know? The room was empty when I got here. I figured he was out there pledging his eternal love to Chen,” he gestures toward the garden and the others roll their eyes.

“So he was here,” Nolan takes the phone from Smitty, scrolling through it for clues. There are a dozen calls from Angela and an “I love you” text from Lucy, but nothing helpful.

“Yeah,” Angela says, exasperated. “He was here, and he got cold feet. Must’ve been really panicked to leave his phone behind.”

Smitty perks up, catching on to the situation. “Wait a minute, are you saying Sarge left Chen at the altar?” The other four share a look, then nod. He stands, brushing crumbs off his rumpled suit and fixing his tie. “Okay, go tell the minister we’ll be ready in five,” he says to Nolan as he walks to the mirror to check his hair.

“Smitty, what the hell are you talking about?” Nyla demands.

“I’m stepping up to do what’s right. Bradford can’t just leave her like this, could you imagine how humiliated she’d be waiting for him to show?”

Nolan rolls his eyes, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Not nearly as humiliated as she’d be if she had to marry you.”

Aaron steps between the two men just as Smitty lunges. “You two knock it off! Smitty, you can’t just replace the groom. We need to find Tim.”

“Tim is missing?” All four of them turn, startled, at Genny’s voice in the doorway. “I was getting worried since the ceremony hasn’t started yet. What’s going on?”

Angela, Aaron, Nyla and Smitty all step behind Nolan, staring at the floor. Nolan looks at the others indignantly before resigning himself to breaking the news to the groom’s sister. “Nobody has seen him all day,” Genny gasps. “He was definitely here, he left his phone behind, but it seems he–he must be having second thoughts about going through with the wedding.”

Genny drops down onto the couch that Smitty had been napping on, hand on her heart and face twisted in anguish. “Oh my God,” she breathes out. “Who is going to tell Lucy?”

“Well,” Aaron starts. “Nolan already told her.”

Genny scoffs, jumping to her feet. “And nobody’s with her? She must be devastated. ” She walks toward the door.

“She said he’ll be here,” Angela calls out. “She sent him away and she’s not worried.”

“Denial,” Genny says sadly. “Okay. Okay, Aaron, you go get Tamara, tell her what’s going on and tell her to come to Lucy’s dressing room. Then you, Nolan and Smitty go distract the guests. Get the caterers to bring out more appetizers. Nyla, Angela, come with me. Lucy needs her sisters.”

They split off, the men going back to the garden to stall the inevitable while the women go to talk to Lucy.

~~~~~~

There is a hesitant knock on the door, a civilian knock. Lucy knows immediately that it doesn’t belong to any of her friends. “Come in,” she calls out in a sing-song voice. She smiles when Genny pokes her head in.

“Hey sweetie,” she says cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal. “We need to talk to you.” Lucy co*cks her head in question, then chuckles when her sister-in-law opens the door further to reveal Nyla, Angela and Tamara.

“I already told John, he’ll be here.”

“Lucy,” Nyla drags a chair over to sit beside her. “He’s not coming.”

Lucy turns to her, raising a brow. “Did he tell you that?” she asks calmly.

“No,” Angela supplies, “but babe, he’s never late.”

“And he was here,” Tamara interjects when Lucy shakes her head dismissively. “He left his phone in the other dressing room.”

Lucy pats the younger woman’s shoulder patronizingly. “That doesn’t mean he’s not coming, he probably had to run an errand or something.”

Genny kneels in front of her, taking both of her hands in her own. “Sweetie, what could be so important on your wedding day?”

She smiles serenely, shaking her head and standing to cross the room. “There is an explanation. He’ll be here. Just let the guests know we’ll be starting late.”

~~~~~~

“It’s been an hour and a half, ” Aaron hisses. “I threw a wad of cash at the caterers and told them to keep the booze flowing, but that’ll only work for so long. Someone has got to make Lucy face the music.”

“I’ve never seen someone so delusional,” Nolan says, shaking his head.

Tamara tosses back the last of her drink. Due to the situation at hand, everyone has chosen to forget the fact that she’s still ten months away from the legal drinking age. They’re all under a lot of stress. “Well, we all know how good Lucy is at pushing down her feelings and compartmentalizing.”

“She learned from the best,” Angela concedes.

Nyla scrubs a hand over her face, not even caring if she smears mascara. “It’s not going to be pretty when it finally hits her.”

“Just wait until I get my hands on him,” Nolan growls, slamming his fist on the table.

“Hands on who?”

There’s a commotion throughout the garden, but none are more shocked than the six people huddled around the high-top table by the bar.

“Where the f*ck have you been?” Angela yells, punching Tim’s arm.

“I’ll explain later,” he says. “Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

“Oh, first,” Nyla straightens up, grinning devilishly. “I believe Nolan has some words for you.”

All the blood drains from Nolan’s face, his bravado from earlier failing him. “I–I’ll go get Lucy.”

~~~~~~

The garden doors open and all the guests stand, and Tim can’t help the surprised gasp that escapes his lips. Lucy stands at the end of the aisle, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, looking as beautiful as ever in her flowing lace dress. Her eyes find his immediately, locking in and drawing her to him like a magnetic force. He knows there is music playing: a song carefully chosen during their long months of planning. Each decision assigned the same gravity as a high-stakes hostage negotiation. Standing here, though, watching the woman he loves floating toward him, he couldn’t say what’s playing. It could be Cotton-Eyed Joe for all he cares.

“Hi,” she says shyly when she finally reaches him.

“Hi. Sorry I’m late.”

She leans in conspiratorially, nodding toward the crowd, neither of them caring that a hundred pairs of eyes are on them. Watching. Waiting. “They tried to convince me you weren’t coming.”

Tim smiles softly. “Nothing could keep me from being here.”

Her eyes gleam, “I knew that.” He reaches for her hand, his thumb rubbing her engagement ring. “Where’d you disappear to, anyway?”

He grins mischievously and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. “We can’t possibly start our marriage without this.” He pulls out the shiny ice cream scoop, carefully engraved with their names and a date. Not today’s date, but one two months ago.

~~~~~~

“We don’t need a damn ice cream scoop, Lucy.” Tim snapped, closing the laptop angrily and shoving it aside. “It’s bad enough we’re begging people for gifts, we don’t need to add all this sh*t on there.”

He stepped away from the island, grabbing another beer from the fridge and twisting off the cap. He threw it at the wall with such force it made her jump. “A registry isn’t begging for gifts, Tim. Don’t be ridiculous. People want to give us presents, and if we don’t guide them, we’ll end up with fourteen Crock-Pots.”

They’d been wedding planning for six months, and every step had been a fight. He was fine to sit back and let Lucy have her way, but she insisted he be an active participant. “This wedding should be a reflection of the both of us,” she had said. So he participated.

The problem was, though, they couldn’t be more different when it came to their ideal wedding. Tim had been through this already, and he wanted small and simple. Lucy, however, got swept up in every trend and tradition. He liked blue and white (the fact they were the Dodgers’ colors was just a happy coincidence) but she insisted on a “warmer palate,” whatever the hell that meant. He wanted their first dance to be something classic, like Etta James, she wanted John Legend. The gift registry was the last big decision, but so far they hadn’t agreed to a single thing to add to it.

“We have everything we need. We’re not twenty-somethings starting out,” he yelled. “We already have two kitchens full of crap gadgets that we don’t use.”

Lucy rolled her eyes bitterly. “An ice cream scoop isn’t a gadget, Grandpa.” She crossed her arms, drawing up to her full height in front of him. “It’s a practical tool that most households have. It’s the one thing that neither of us already have. Why do you have to be so stubborn about everything?”

“Oh, I’m stubborn?” he scoffed.

“Well, you’re the one starting a fight over an ice cream scoop, Tim.”

He ran a hand through his hair then shook his fist. “You’re the one acting like our marriage will be doomed if we don’t have one.”

Lucy threw her hands up in frustration. “Yeah, well maybe this marriage is already doomed,” she yelled before storming off to the bedroom.

Tim finished his beer, trying to calm his anger before he went after her. He threw the door open and she jumped, then glared at him. “Do you want to marry me?” he demanded.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head dismissively. “Of course I want to marry you, Tim. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Great. Then pack a bag.”

He crossed the room, yanking the closet doors open and nearly pulling them off the hinges. “What?” she asked, stunned.

“Pack a bag,” he repeated and whipped around to look at her. “I’ve had enough of this bullsh*t fighting over wedding planning. Let’s drive to Vegas and get married tonight .” Lucy didn’t move; she opened and closed her mouth several times but never found the words. “Or would you rather rip each other apart over a f*cking ice cream scoop? ”

“N–no. Let’s get married.”

~~~~~~

Lucy grins widely when she sees the ice cream scoop that nearly ended them.

“When I realized I forgot to pick it up, I raced to the engraver’s shop. There was traffic and I lost my phone, so I couldn’t call you. I just prayed you didn’t think I stood you up.”

She laughs, taking the scoop and pushing up on her toes to kiss him. “I already told you, I knew you’d be here. Today’s just a formality anyway, for them,” she nods toward the crowd again, all the confused faces watching their exchange, waiting for the vows. Or at least an explanation. Maybe one day they’ll share their secret, but for now, this story is just for Tim and Lucy.