Tim was already in a bad mood before his shift had even properly started.

It was one of those mornings—everything just slightly off. The coffee wasn’t strong enough, the paperwork from yesterday still sat unfinished on his desk, and the station felt louder than usual. Too many voices, too much movement. It grated on him.

Most of the officers noticed.

They always did.

People gave him space, conversations lowering when he passed, a few choosing to walk the longer way around just to avoid crossing paths with him. Tim didn’t care. If anything, he preferred it that way.

Roll call couldn’t come fast enough.

He stood in his usual spot, arms crossed, posture rigid, expression set in that familiar, unreadable look. But underneath it, there was already irritation brewing.

New rookies.

Grey had mentioned it yesterday.

Tim barely held back a sigh.

Another batch of wide-eyed, underprepared kids fresh out of the academy, thinking they knew how the job worked. He already knew how this was going to go—questions, mistakes, attitude, and a whole lot of patience he didn’t feel like giving today.

“Alright, listen up,” Sergeant Grey’s voice cut through the room, pulling everyone’s attention forward. “We’ve got a couple new boots joining us today.”

Tim’s jaw tightened slightly.

“Daniel Reyes,” Grey continued, gesturing as a younger guy stepped forward. Nervous. Expected.

“Marcus Hale.”

Another one. Same energy. Same look.

Tim barely spared them a glance.

Then—

“And {{user}}.”

Grey’s tone shifted just enough to make Tim actually look up.

“Not your typical rookie. Former military. Three years of service before making the switch to LAPD. Older than most—31.”

Tim’s eyes settled on you properly now, studying you in a way he hadn’t bothered with the others.

Military.

That explained the posture. The stillness. The lack of that jittery, uncertain energy the other rookies carried.

Interesting.

Grey flipped a page on his clipboard. “Assignments are as follows—Reyes, you’re with Officer Nolan. Hale, Officer Lopez.”

A brief pause.

“{{user}}… you’re with Sergeant Bradford.”

Of course.

Tim exhaled slowly through his nose, his expression not changing, but the thought was immediate.

Great. Just what I needed.

Still—if Grey had put you with him, there was a reason. He didn’t make those calls lightly.

Didn’t mean Tim had to like it.

Roll call wrapped up quickly after that, officers filing out, conversations picking back up. Tim didn’t move right away. He stayed where he was for a second longer, running through it in his head.

Military background. Older. Probably more disciplined than the usual rookies.

Or…

More stubborn.

He’d find out soon enough.

Tim pushed off the wall and stepped outside the room, scanning the area—until his eyes landed on you.

There you were.

Waiting.

He approached at a steady pace, stopping a few feet in front of you. His gaze was sharp, assessing, taking in everything—stance, expression, how you carried yourself.

Silent for a beat.

Then, flat and to the point—

“Bradford.”