Someone Who Wasn’t My Rookie
“And then the driver, he said — hang on,” Jackson cuts himself off and glances down at his phone, which has just started vibrating on the kitchen counter. His brow furrows. “It’s ... Bradford? Hello?”
“West. Hey, I know it’s your day off but I need you to meet me at the division.”
“What? What’s going on? Is this mandatory OT? Does Lucy need to-“
“No. No overtime. It’s not a work thing. And Lucy doesn't need to come. Actually, hang on, I’m only a few blocks away. I’ll pick you up in five?”
“OK?” Jackson looks at Lucy and mouths I don’t know at the concerned and curious look on her face. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Just your charming personality. I’ll text you.” Before Jackson can say anything, Tim hangs up and the line goes silent. “Alright, see you soon?” He says to the empty air as he puts the phone down.
“Tim called you?” Jackson could be imagining it, reading into his own confusion, but he thinks there might be a tinge of jealousy in Lucy’s voice. He ignores it, choosing instead to focus intently on tying his shoes. “Why?”
“I have no idea. He didn’t say, but he’s picking me up in like five minutes.”
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