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So in other words you're old as dirt

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Which came first? The writer or the fans?

For those of you still wondering if Chenford was the plan all along….

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Have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed.

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chenford + applicable quotes/lyrics (7/?) (insp.) You're incredible. You deserve so much better.

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I’m glad the show is back - but I’m not watching… not yet.

The break up broke me. Im still full of rage and vitriol. Though it lays dormant most days.

I won’t be actively watching until I hear through the grape vine of clips and conversation that they are 100% back together.

I waited 5-1/2 seasons (over 80 episodes) for them to together. I HATED season 4 with the will they/wont they bull shit. Im not doing it again.

So happy watching. I’ve got fics to write and other stuff to do….

ROLL CALL!

Hey, Chenford fam! I can't believe we're finally at SEASON 7! I know a lot of fans are returning, some have moved on, and there are quite a few new ones. 👋

So, I'd love all of you to reply or reblog, and share a little tidbit. How you'll be watching, a hope for s7, what got you shipping Chenford, etc. Whatever you feel like. It's been a little quiet during hiatus, and I can't wait to see the tag buzzing. So call out!

Much ❤️ to you all and happy season 7!!

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I LOVE THIS! ❤️ 🎄 ❤️ 🎄 ❤️. THANK YOU!

I can hear my dad’s deep voice reading this to me as an itty bitty new reader. Pointing at the pictures of Timch and Kojo with his antlers and giggling with delight.

Seriously, thank you.

(and yes, I’m Valhalla_Torment on AO3)

Pairing: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen

Characters: Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen, Kojo

Summary: The Timch hates Christmas and plans to ruin the holiday for all the Whos in Mid-Whoshireville, but when Lucy-Lou Who shows him the fun that can be had celebrating, will he change his mind about Christmas forever?

Author's Note: Written for @Valhalla_Torment for the @chenfordsecretsanta Fic Exchange.

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Popping in with another #Chenford Chat! We know The Rookie likes to throw in little winks or callbacks to previous episodes. What do you most hope to see a parallel to at some point?? 👀

Fun question! Thank you for including me in the mix.

Top two that come to mind aren’t really #Chenford coded per se…

1) something, anything calling back to Jackson. Whether that’s seeing Lucy having lunch or dinner at Percy’s house on Jackson’s birthday, or he comes to her in a dream and they talk about Tim, or she walks past the wall honoring dead officers and she puts her hand in his picture looking sad and Tim sees. He was such a vital part of the shows’s foundation and no one talks about him any more.

2) competition between the Rookies. One thing I found lacking in the story lines for Katie, Aaron and Celina was the camaraderie and competition/trash talk between both the rookies and their TOs individually and then in various groups and subgroups. What better way to accelerate learning and build trust between the old and new guards than by making them work together.

So for S7- having multiple rookies (2new + Celina), I hope we get a call back to the Round Up - where everyone thinks Tim has an upper hand because he’s been a TO the longest and has the longest streak of wins, but he doesn’t get a boost from Nell and he doesn’t win because the game is rigged in his favor. If Lucy IS a TO this season, how would she approach the situation differently?

And Angela and Wade can reminisce about Jackson and his humanity giving a woman who’s husband was murdered something of his with which to remember the love and grieve.

And of course I’d want Lucy to win, and for her to get a trophy and Tim to look wistfully at her and beat himself up about letting her go.

-> ooh! Which could segue into a therapy session where he talk about being proud of her and missing both her and Jackson….

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Several Sentence Sunday

Babygirl Bradford #1 had come screaming into existence at 3 am this morning. After a quick introduction to mom and dad, she’s whisked away to get checked out and wiped clean

Tim and Lucy get rolled into the shower where he lovingly and gently washes the sweat away from her body and hair and he dresses Lucy in one of his LAPD zip sweat suits.

Once she’s settled, and Babygirl was back in her arms, Tim started writing the group text to let everyone know the newest Bradford had arrived.

Everything was written except for her name. They had originally chosen Olivia Charlotte, but now that she was here? Tim knew that was not what she should be called. He and the baby had made eye contact a couple times and he felt like the younger Bradford agreed.

“Tim? I’m sorry - but you are going to hate me.”

“Luce - you just made a human that’s part me and part you. I could never hate you. What’s up?”

Lucy lets out a big sigh and stares down at the little girl who is looking back at her. “Well, baby girl and I have been chatting and we agree that Olivia is not her name. We need to change it.”

Tim laughs, and moves to sit next to Lucy. “Chatting huh? Well she’s been telling me the same thing.”

Lucy breaks eye contact from the baby to look at Tim. “But we argued about so many names just to get to that one. What should we do?”

Tim leans down and kisses Lucy on her temple and then says, “I have a suggestion. Luce - you are my light who helped lead me out of the darkness to a love deeper and more powerful than anything I’ve ever known. And this little one, makes me happier than I ever thought possible .

She’s our pride and joy, Luce. I think we should call her Joy.

————

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Everything I do, I do it for you (a/k/a Nowhere Near Six Sentence Sunday)

Tim watches the snow fall from the warmth of the town car speeding through the streets of London. Ok speeding might be a stretch, he thinks - it’s evening rush hour, two Saturdays before Christmas and the roads are packed with locals, tourists, double decker buses, taxis etc. Tim’s cop eyes are wistful as he sees the holiday lights and decorations.

He turns away from the window to look at his wife, to grab her hand and kiss it.

They’ve had a long journey to get to this moment. Not just today - flying from Los Angeles to London via New York - but also after finding each other then losing the love he didn’t think he deserved to knowing and living a life made complete with her and their deep all consuming happiness.

Tim Bradford is 70 years old today and he’s been married to Lucy Chen Bradford for almost half of those years.

He’s sad because up until now they’ve always spent his birthday surrounded by their friends and family- the unofficial start to the Bradford Holidays - created by his wife to celebrate the initial expansion of their family - think holiday family advent calendar full of activities and milestones and celebrations.

But now, his babies were now all out of the house with lives and loves of their own. He is so insanely proud of them and he misses them and worries about them when they are far away. He spoke to all of them throughout the day as they wished him the happiest of birthdays- but it’s not the same.

Lucy pats her husband’s hand as she watches the emotions track across his face - unsurprised he’s taking this birthday separation so hard. He is such a softy for his family. He turned into marshmallow fluff when babygirl bradford #1 had come screaming into existence and never really stopped from that point forward.

She leans into his side, kissing him lightly on the cheek to say, “ We’re here. Let’s go check in.” Tim smiles as they exit the car and enter the hotel lobby holding hands. Lucy tips the porter who takes their heavy coats and bags up to their suite and sends a text to the family group chat, “We’re here!” She then moves to check out the decorated Christmas tree in the Grand Foyer.

When Tim joins her at the tree, he sees her holding a picture ornament in her hand, smiling sweetly with a tear slowly sliding down her face.

“Remember when I gave you our first Christmas ornament? That sonogram went from the fridge to the tree within a week- and a very happy little girl arrived to fill our lives with joy 7 months later.”

Tim: “I remember.” He glances at the ornament then stops short when he realizes she’s holding THAT original ornament. Tim looks from Lucy to the tree and back as he notices another ornament from their history on the tree - this one of Kojo with reindeer horns on his head and a tinsel vine in his mouth….

“Wait…. I gave you this ornament. Didn’t I hang this on our tree before we left home?” Lucy nods and kisses his cheek.

Tim then sees another ornament he recognizes and then another one and realizes that this lovely, sweet smelling live tree is covered in THEIR holiday ornaments.

Tim wanders around the tree, laughing and smiling as the memories wash over him in waves. The first steps, the broken bones, the series of dogs, the laughter and the love. Before he knows it, he’s back to Lucy, and he’s kissing her like it’s their second first date all over again. That first real kiss between them. The way he always kisses her when he’s so overcome with love for her and so grateful to have spent so much of his life being loved by her.

The moment crashes to a halt when someone falls into Tim, breaking the spell.

Tim whirls around, ready to confront/attack and comes face to face with a squirming smiley baby. A baby he knows. Grand baby boy Bradford #1 makes eye contact with his “Pa Pa” and squeals with delight, reaching for the man who loves him almost as much as “ da da.” Lucy reaches out and grabs the baby, “ Nana’s got you!” As she moves away, Tim sees his eldest son who should be in Chicago shaping young minds…. “Hi Dad. Happy Birthday.”

Tim grabs his son and holds on tight, not ending the hug until his sweet boy pulls away.

“Luke, what are you doing here?”

Luke smiles his mom’s smile at his dad and says, “ I’m the only one with both extensive snow and van driving experience. Who else was gonna drive this motley lot of people here from the airport?”

Luke steps away from the tree to reveal the other four Bradford kids with their significant others standing slightly apart and laughing among themselves.

Suddenly Tim is wrapped in a bear hug by those he holds most dear. He can’t believe it - they are all here!

“Happy Birthday!”

Lucy picks that moment to slide up next to her husband, eyes sparkling with mischief and slides under Tim’s arm. “you have been moping since you found out our travel overlaps with your birthday, so the kids and I arranged for everyone to come to London for the weekend to celebrate you, and then we’ll take the train to port before starting our weeklong cruise.”

“You did this for me?”

“It was their idea, but I helped. You should know by now that everything I do. I do it for you.”

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Six Sentence Saturday

Lucy peeks into the crib in the nursery and once again sees her daughter, staring at her quietly, big brown eyes blinking with unknown thoughts.

They had named her Kali - Hindu for “destroyer of evil” and “cause of transformation” - perfect name for the child of two cops, whose relationship had been ripped apart by doubt and fear, then brought back together from love and care.

Kali had immediately bonded with Tim - when his blue eyes met her brown ones as she sat giggling, babbling and cooing at him while kicking in her bouncy chair atop the kitchen counter . He had entered the bloody crime scene with Aaron moving instinctively to stand between the baby and her parents lying dead on the floor nearby in an apparent murder/suicide.

Two weeks later, Tim had shown up on Lucy’s doorstep on a cold and at rainy November night, begging for forgiveness and her help - would she consider marrying him, so he could… no they could adopt her?

Her answer had been to hand him a bit of plastic, containing two bright pink lines…

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Six-ish sentence Sunday

Lucy turns off lights as she heads back to the living room where she left her husband moments ago.

A bright incandescent smile bursts across her face as she tumbles the words “her husband” in her mind.

She sees that man, her former training officer, her favorite person, her safe place to land staring off into the distance as the twinkle lights from their Christmas tree make shadow patterns on his tear streaked cheeks.

She hurries over and sits on the coffee table, her knees between his knees, her hands grabbing for and holding his hands, and her eyes seeking his eyes…

Overwhelmed by the massive emotions sparking his brain and swelling his heart to the point of bursting, Tim can only gape at Lucy, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Lucy rubs little circles on his wrists, and asks, “are you alright babe?”

Tim nods, and gulps, and whispers, “she called me Dada, Luce, she called me Dada.”

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Ohhh yes... He does. Well, he did...

The Rookie

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SIX …. Well actually SEVEN SENTENCE SATURDAY (FINALLY! I WROTE A NEW CHAPTER!)

Tim paused and looked down and saw that Maeve had conked out. She was fast asleep, her head on his shoulder, and her hand on his heart. Tim glanced at his watch and saw that Genny would be down to grab Maeve in another 20-30 minutes or so.

Little did he know, Genny was sitting on the stairs hidden behind the half wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Her favorite thing lately was listening to Tim talk to Maeve.

His deep voice had always been calming to her, and she was thrilled that it had the same effect on her daughter. She also knew better than anyone that he was in denial about his feelings for Lucy.

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Amber eyes? 🤔🤔

Her eyes are brown.

I come from a family of blue eyed Vikings. Calling our eyes “blue” would imply all of our eyes are the exact same shade or hue of blue. Which they most certainly are not.

Mine are grey blue with a black circle around them - the color doesn’t fill out my irises. They change color depending on what I’m wearing.

Dad’s were electric blue

Mom’s were the color of brand new Levi 501 blues (button fly)

Sister #1 has crystal clear ice blue eyes - they’re kind of freaky

Sister #2 has faded blue jeans eyes with green flecks

But yes, on our driver’s licenses they all say BLUE. BOR-ING.

This is a work of fiction, so I can use whatever word I want to use. I want to use AMBER. I could have said whiskey, aged rum, or the color of the tea she likes to drink.

I think “brown” as a description is boring. I hate boring.

MOST IMPORTANTLY- it’s my story, I’ll describe her gorgeous eyes as “amber” if I want to.

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Take the Long Way Home…

*** NOTE - my writer’s brain is coming back online and with that I’m receiving bits and pieces of stories, so I am posting them as they hit. Ficlets if you will….I’m hopeful they’ll trigger full engagement so I can finally finish my incomplete stories before Season 7 happens***

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Tim Bradford made his way back to his cabin on the luxury train in the hopes of writing a chapter or two. He’d spent the past few hours zoning out while gazing upon the mountainous view from the back of the train.

His publisher was getting itchy over the paid out advance vs his lack of new book submission. Much like that TV show character Castle, he had killed off his wildly popular main character and was looking for his next muse. He could feel the stories forming in his head, filling up the space like cotton balls in a glass jar on his mom’s vanity. He just needed the spark to turn his thoughts into action and write the blasted thing. He needed his muse.

A former LAPD police officer, Tim had left the force after killing his last rookie candidate in a violent shootout. Killing his Rookie - who had aimed and then fired his police issue firearm directly at Tim with the intent to kill two days before he would have completed the program - has messed with his psyche almost as badly as being shot had messed with his body.

Once he got out of the hospital, Tim had gone to mandatory therapy and his therapist made him document his healing journey (he rolled his eyes at the memory). Dr Judy looked like someone’s grandmother (she had 9 grandkids herself), but had blue blood and a spine of steel and didn’t let Timothy off the hook. She dug into his pain and worked with him to forcibly remove and burn it into nothingness. Despite using all the latest healing modalities, it was the simplest one that did the trick - journaling.

As luck would have it, once he started writing, he really couldn’t stop. His anger at his abusive dad, frustration with his mom who never escaped, the horror he saw at war, the pride he took at training the next generation of cops, everything - it all poured out of him. This same therapist, connected him with a publisher (her nephew) and a New York Times best selling crime author was born. He wrote ten books in seven years using himself as the flawed detective and used the cases that still kept him up at night for inspiration.

Tim chuckles at the memory while unlocking his suite. His long ago friend from the police academy had given him her baby moon trip from San Diego to Key West, FL via Canada on the maiden voyage of this fancy schmancy train ride. Her husband was a kajillionaire, so this train and his suite were decked out - luxury to the max. Once inside, he flops onto the sofa and closes his eyes but instead of silence, he hears a woman’s beautiful singing voice coming in from his neighbor’s radio.

“They say Rome wasn’t built in a day…but hey.. they’ve got nothing on the patience that it’s taking me to wait…”

Tim let’s the sexy voice wash over him, when he notices the shower running and realizes he’s never heard his neighbors before and that’s HIS shower running. There was a naked, singing woman in his shower. Probably. Or an assassin waiting on the other side of the door to kill him.

“See the sands of this hourglass, are slipping through your hands.”

Tim’s eyes pop open, and he scans the cabin, noticing the fire engine red suitcases tucked under the desk, the low heeled boots next to them on the floor, the black leggings and aubergine tunic laid carefully on the armchair across from him and his last book sitting on top of an iPad case.

“Every grain has got to hurt you, takes you further from your chance.”

He leans down and pulls his carry on bag out from under the sofa upon which he sits, and pulls out his off-duty gun. He checks to make sure it’s loaded, slides the suitcase back and waits. Body feigning relaxation while he’s really on high alert. He grips the handle of the weapon on the butter soft leather of the sofa and closes his eyes.

“I’ve been holding on, for way too long (way too long)…..either you’re in or you out.”

Tim doesn’t hear the water turn off or the door open, but he does feel the small temperature change and burst of hot, humid, jasmine scented air as the mystery woman steps into the room.

“You’ve got four and twenty hours… just one day to prove to me…that your love has got the power… to make me believe… you’ll take me where you wanna be. Four and twenty hours, and that’s me.”

Tim opens his eyes as she stops singing, and raises his gun to match the one pointed at him - and in that instant he sees the most stunningly beautiful mostly naked woman of his life with tawny skin, full lips, stunning amber eyes, and pin up girl curves. He can also tell she’s a cop by the way she holds her weapon and that she’s recovering from a serious beating- yellow/green bruises on her cheek and hips, bandages wrapped around her leg, a fire engine red cast on her left wrist and forearm.

Tim smirks to himself, slightly jealous of the TO who turned this spitfire into a disciplined cop. She’s magnificent, fierce and trembling from the pain in her shoulder. He’s guessing she’s got faded bruises on her back as well.

There she is, he thinks. My muse. The heroine of my next series of books, Detective Sava Wu.

When she finally speaks she simultaneously impresses him again, and triggers the flames of desire within him. “why don’t you lower your weapon handsome, tell me your name and explain to me what you’re doing in my cabin. I don’t remember ordering you with my dinner. I’d remember that.”

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Featuring “Four and Twenty Hours” by Joss Stone, from “The Wedding Date” soundtrack

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Friday Night’s S4 Fever Dream a/k/a “Chaos by the Frozen Peas”

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“Tim? Is that you?”

The once familiar voice snaps Tim out of his “what-the-hell-song-is-this-grocery-store-Muzak” reverie (it was Stairway to Heaven of all things) and brings him immediately back to the overcrowded, hipster-filled Erewhon store where he’d been lagging behind his girlfriend for the past 45 minutes bored out of his mind.

Smiling at the memories, Tim turns to see the familiar petite blonde - his ex-wife Isabel., who looks fantastic -eyes shining bright, rosy cheeks, happy and healthy. He scans her quickly noting the massive diamond wedding ring and baby belly. He leans forward instantly taking her in his arms while saying “congratulations” and meaning it. The momentary pang of jealousy hits with the possibility of babies, but he knows if she stays clean, Isabel will be a phenomenal mom.

He steps back as Ashley steps forward looking down at Isabel, and not liking what she sees, turns back to Tim. Simultaneously, Isabel had looked up at Ashley and mimicked her every action, before they both said in perfect unison,

“Tim? Who is this?” Voices full of instant disdain and dislike while pointing at the other.

“Why does she look like me?”

“Who is she to you?”

Turning towards each other, they continue speaking over each other..

“I’m his ex-wife.” “I’m his girlfriend.”

Isabel turns back to Tim, “wait, I thought you were with Lucy now. I like Lucy. Where’s Lucy?”

Ashley scoffs and also turns back to Tim, “Why am I not surprised your ex-WIFE knows and likes Lucy? While I didn’t even know you had an ex-wife.”

Tim’s eyes flit back and forth between the two blondes watching Isabel’s grin grow, while Ashley’s face contorts in resigned frustration - like the two opposite masks of drama.

Instead of figuring out how to extract himself unscathed from this conversation, he too wonders where Lucy currently is.

Like always, he’d so much rather be with Lucy.

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