Reading Time: 106 Minutes

Title: Time of the Season
Author: Jilly James
Fandom: 9-1-1, SWAT, Code Black
Genre: Contemporary, Crossover, Drama, First Time, Romance
Relationship(s): Evan Buckley/Lou Ransone
Content Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence-Graphic. Canon-level violence, Canon-level circumstances, Canon-level angst. Mild character bashing. Explicit Sex. A smidge of kink towards the end.
Author Note: See tabs on main page for notes about season 8, and also full playlist. Crossovers are minor, and all characters can be viewed as OCS. Canon knowledge of those shows is not necessary. Title is from Time of the Season by the Zombies. I reference a lot of music in the narrative, but I believe all credits occur inline.
Beta: Ladyholder
Word Count: 98,000
Summary: Evan’s trying to get his best friend moving to Texas off his mind. Lou is trying to distract himself from a case that he shouldn’t be working on, even as a case from his past haunts him. They run into each other and spend an evening in easy conversation. That should be the end of it, but talking for them is easy, and when life gets increasingly complex and sometimes disastrous, they turn to one another. In their own way, they each need to let go of the past in order to move forward, and sometimes that’s easier with someone who understands you.
Artist: didbuckygetaplum
Artist Appreciation: I so enjoyed working with you, and I adore this art. It captures the vibe of the story perfectly. Thank you for all your time and grace under pressure as my life became so chaotic. You’re a rock star and a very talented one!

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Chapter One

Buck stirred the straw around in his drink, feeling uninterested in it, but not wanting to give up and go home either. He didn’t want specific company, but he also didn’t want to be by himself. Alone in a room full of other people seemed the way to go, despite him having given up on the bar scene years ago.

He realized he’d pretty much stopped going to bars as a solo activity after he’d met Eddie and gotten enmeshed in the family dynamic he enjoyed much more than partying.

With a sigh, he took a sip of the fruity drink he’d ordered. He normally drank beer—shots if he was actually trying to get drunk—but he was trying too hard not to do what he’d normally do. He’d also normally go to a bar with loud music, but this place had mood lighting and moodier music from at least a decade before he was even born. Probably two decades.

He liked the vibe of the bar, though, and the bartender had an eagle eye on how much everyone was drinking. He’d checked in when he’d arrived that he’d come in an Uber, so she was a little more chill with him, but she made no bones about the fact that she wasn’t going to try to roll someone his size in the back of an Uber, so he’d be cut off long before he was that drunk.

Not that Buck ever drank to that kind of excess.

The music changed to his song, and he felt a melancholy settle deep in his bones. He could almost wish the bar would play any song but this one. The song that reminded him of all the things in his life he didn’t have yet.

Someone settled a little too close to him at the bar, their shoulders touching.

“You look like the problems of the world can be solved if only you stir that Mai Tai enough,” a familiar voice said.

Buck gave an incredulous look to his left. Detective Ransone was in his usual work clothes of slacks and button-up shirt, though the tie was gone, shirt open at the neck, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Detective…?”

Ransone just raised one brow.

“Or is it lieutenant?”

“Lieutenant detective, to be specific, but you can call me Lou since I’m not interrogating you.”

Buck felt his face get a little warm. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I always come here. You, on the other hand, do not.”

“Oh. Right.” Buck fought down the urge to apologize for going to a bar. “I was just trying out something new.” He shrugged.

“And trying to find the answers to the universe in a Mai Tai?”

“You can tell what it is by sight?”

“I heard you order it, but they’re a little distinctive looking. Only a few drinks fit the bill. But the point stands. You’ve been stirring the same rum drink for thirty minutes, and have had two sips.”

“I’m a beer drinker.”

“So you ordered one of the sweetest cocktails known to man?”

“I was just trying to get out of my head—change my environment, I guess.”

“Why don’t you go all in and order a mudslide. It might put you into a sugar coma, and you’ll have an out-of-body experience.”

Buck gave a startled bark of laughter.

“If you actually were to drink your cocktail, what would you want?”

“I guess a pomegranate cosmo.”

“So, something tart. And yet you ordered sweet.”

Buck shrugged.

“My keen powers of deduction tell me you don’t really want to drink.” Lou held up two fingers. “Tea, Mary Jane.”

“You got it, Lou. Usual table?”

“Yep. Come on, Buckley.”

Buck stared for a few seconds, then followed Ransone to one of the booths that lined the walls of the club. Each booth in the row was a half circle, but they sat across from each other. With both of them having long legs, it could have been awkward to position their legs, but they managed it naturally.

“You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Ransone said.

“Not really. Just wrestling with life, I guess.”

“Hmm.” Ransone cocked his head to the side. The change in lighting and angle briefly highlighted the scar on his throat from when Hudson’s creepy fan/lawyer had tried to kill him several years prior. Buck had been aware of what had happened to Ransone, but he didn’t think it was his place to bring it up. He didn’t let his gaze linger. He had plenty of his own scars, after all.

“You said you come here often?”

Ransone grinned. “That sounds like a come-on.”

Buck laughed. “My flirting has gotten a little rusty, so I’ll be sure to be more deliberate.”

It was Ransone’s turn to laugh. “Yes, I come here to wind down several times a week. It’s close enough to my house that I can walk if I want, so if I do choose to have a drink or two, I don’t have to worry about driving. Plus, I like the music.”

“Most of this music is older than even you.” Buck grinned.

“Ouch. And it is. Athena said you were terrible with pop culture.”

“Well, visual media, yes. My parents didn’t really allow us to watch TV, and we never went to the movies. But we listened to music all the time, so that was part of how I compensated, I think. People assume I know music as poorly as I know movies, and I don’t bother to correct them.”

“Hm.” He gave Buck a searching look. “Favorite Elvis song?”

Buck flushed. “It’s so cliché.”

“If you like it, you like it. Some classics are classic for a reason.” Ransone considered. “Love Me Tender?”

Laughing, Buck shook his head.

“Well, depending on how you slice his discography—by popularity or sales—the cliché top three would be It’s Now or Never, All Shook Up, or Jailhouse Rock. So, if you’re thinking it’s cliché, it must be super popular.”

Still grinning, Buck replied, “Suspicious Minds.”

“A favorite amongst police officers. But I’m not sure why it’s cliché.”

“I love a comeback album, I guess. It’s one of his later hits, arguably more appealing to a newer audience.”

Ransone laughed. “Sixty-nine is not that new of an audience when you were born in, what? Ninety?”

“Ninety-one.”

“Lord.” Ransone shook his head. “Not a cliché pick at all. One of his best, in my opinion. It’s probably my second choice. I like his later work myself as well. Always on My Mind is my top pick.”

“Good one, but I like Willie Nelson’s cover better.”

“Heathen.”

Buck laughed.

“Athena says you’re really good with trivia.”

He shrugged. “Depends on if I’ve ever been interested in the subject at hand.”

“Tell me some random bit of musical trivia about a band from the ’60s.”

Buck blinked, but something immediately popped into his mind. “Who comes to mind when I say swamp rock?”

“CCR.”

“How many number-one hits did they have?”

Ransone frowned. “Did they ever have a number one hit? Wasn’t that their whole thing? Multiple times at number two, but never number one?”

“More than fifty years after its original release, Have You Ever Seen the Rain hit number one.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

Ransone pulled out his phone and started tapping. “I’ll be damned. 2021.” He put the phone back in his pocket and smiled at Buck. The smile was sort of breathtaking, and a little more concentrated energy than Buck was sure he was prepared to deal with. “Tell me something else about a band way too old for you to know anything about.”

“John Fogerty surrendered his rights to their music in order to get out of his contractual obligations to CCR, but then he was sued when he released The Old Man Down the Road for sounding…too much like himself.”

Ransone burst out laughing. “I love our legal system.”

At that moment, the bartender arrived with two glass mugs and what looked like a French press. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, MJ.”

Ransone immediately poured for both of them. “The press is just to keep it hot.”

Buck stared at the milky concoction he was passed. “What is it?”

“Chai.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just chai. MJ’s mother-in-law was raised in Kanpur and makes the best chai I’ve ever had. It’s not on the menu, but she’ll make it for me anytime I come in. You’re welcome.”

Buck took a sip and moaned in pleasure at the explosion of flavors across his palate. “God, that’s good.”

“You didn’t seem like you actually wanted to drink.”

“Alcohol has never actually helped me when I have things on my mind.”

“Alcohol rarely helps with anything, truth be told.”

“Fair point.”

Ransone cocked his head to the side. “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s a whole saga. A boring one at that.”

“Yeah, but I’m here because I don’t want to be in my house alone, and I’m willing to listen, no matter how boring it might be, though I doubt it’s as boring as you say.”

Buck blew out a breath, feeling it was weird to confide in someone he barely knew, but at the same time, he needed to talk to someone. At least to get the words out. “With the caveat that there are things my boss isn’t supposed to know quite yet…?”

“Ah, you mean don’t say anything to Athena…? I’m not going to say anything to anyone. It’s not my story to tell.”

“It’s hard to know where to start.”

“Start with a simple problem statement, and we’ll figure out how much to back up.”

Buck blew out a breath. “Eddie, my best friend, is moving to Texas. I’m not happy about it. I know he thinks I’m making it about me, but it’s hard to feel positive about what’s going on.”

Ransone nodded, looking thoughtful. “Eddie’s the one with the kid?”

“Yeah.”

“And the three of you were pretty up in each other’s business, right?”

Buck nodded slowly.

“What’s up with the kid?”

“That’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it?” Buck leaned forward, the position of his legs shifting, knees knocking idly against Ransone’s, but neither of them made attempts to shift away from each other. He curled his hand around the mug of hot chai and stared moodily at it as he began explaining the whole saga of Kim, with a few highlights about Shannon, and then Christopher’s flight to Texas with his grandparents.

Ransone was frowning by the end of the story and started asking more and more questions, teasing out information about Eddie’s parents, Eddie’s history with his extended family, and what had happened in the months since Chris left. A lot of things Buck wouldn’t have thought to volunteer.

To Buck’s surprise, the questioning even shifted to go back as far as the shooting. Somewhere in the course of the conversation, Buck started thinking of him as Lou, they got a whole new pot of chai, and the mood of the bar had shifted. People weren’t just hanging out and drinking; they were dancing to the music, which now had a sultrier vibe.

Lou had stopped his questions and seemed thoughtful. “So, you did a couple of these house showings with him, and they didn’t go well. In retrospect, do you think you were sabotaging them?”

“Not intentionally, but maybe. I obviously don’t want him to go, but he thinks I’m making this about me, but I don’t know how to say what’s in my head.” He thumped his temple.

“You mean in your heart.”

“Pardon?”

“It was hard to hear him say he had no ties to California?”

Buck winced. Overhearing Eddie say that, even casually, to a stranger had been brutal. “It’s obviously not true. He has biological family still in the area…”

“Somewhat irrelevant.” Lou leaned forward, their knees and thighs shifting together. “For better or worse, it seems like you two had built a family. From the outside, based on what I’ve gathered from you, but also what I’ve heard from Athena over the years coupled with my own observation, Eddie does a classic push-pull. He pulls you in tighter when his need is greater, solidifying the family bonds, and pushes you away when he doesn’t need you.” He held up a hand before Buck could say anything. “I’m not saying it’s malicious or deliberate, but he’s used to you being there, used to you coming in for him in the clutch, and knowing it’s okay to push you back when there’s someone else in his life. Whether it’s a girlfriend, or a new best friend, or whatever.

“It’s easy to take some things and some people for granted, even if we wouldn’t want to do so. Like I said, I ascribe no malicious intent. But lack of ill will doesn’t necessarily change the outcome.

“Also, from a professional perspective, Eddie’s handling of this situation with Kim was as bad as it could possibly be. He let someone basically stalk him without any question. When she came to his home after he told her to go away—dressed like his dead wife, looking like her—he didn’t stop to question how unhealthy that was due to his distress over his son’s reaction.

“Also, instead of enforcing parental rights and getting them both therapy and saying ‘I told this weird woman to leave me alone, and she showed up at our house, and I’m confused and need help, but you can stay with Buck for a few weeks if you need to,’ he let his own mental health issues allow him to basically surrender guardianship of his kid to people who have been engaged in a long-term campaign of parental alienation. Something you have been his support network about.

“I say all that because from my perspective, what you may be having a hard time articulating is not that you have an issue with Eddie going to be with his son, but that you haven’t been able to freely express to him all this time that you think he fucked up in letting the kid go to begin with. And you may never choose to say these words, but Eddie’s choices have pulled your family apart.”

Buck looked away, blinking rapidly. Then he swiped at his eyes because that hit too close to home.

A napkin was pushed in front of him, and Buck took advantage of it. “Sorry,” Ransone murmured softly.

“No apologies.”

“That may have been too blunt.”

“No, I needed to hear it. I can’t seem to get it out of my head. It does feel like my family is being ripped away, and I…”

“It’s okay to say it.”

“It hurts that I wasn’t even a thought. I know he’s thinking I’m trying to make this be me versus Christopher, but I would never do that. We were a family, and he never tried to fix things. Not bring Chris home, not keep Chris here. He never even asked—”

“If you’d go to Texas?”

Buck winced again.

“It’s natural. You two have been family for a long time, and they’ve been the center of your world, even if you weren’t the center of theirs.”

Buck full-on flinched.

Lou reached out and took Buck by both wrists, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. That was definitely too blunt, even for me. It’s a hazard of the job, I think. But it’s still no excuse.”

“Maybe blunt is best. I probably needed that band-aid ripped off.” He gave a watery chuckle and gently disengaged one hand from Lou’s gentle grip to wipe at his eyes again. “This really sucks.”

“Yeah. And everything you’re feeling is fine…normal, even. The question is, what do you plan to do? Because reacting spontaneously in the moment isn’t really working out for you.”

“I was thinking…” Buck took a deep breath. “I need to show Eddie that I’m a good friend and I can let go. I know this is about him and Chris, and they need to move on. So I was thinking about giving up my loft and subletting his place so he can move to Texas.”

“Good god no.” Lou looked startled at his own outburst, even as Buck blinked at him in shock.

“What?”

“Sorry about that.”

“Isn’t that what I should do? Like, put him and Chris first, show that I’m not making it all about me?”

Lou held up a hand. “Unsolicited telling you what to do here, but hell no. That’s the most emotionally destructive thing I’ve ever heard. Also, get therapy for this whole narrative you’ve got going in your head about anytime you make anything about you that it’s wrong. But back to the point. I can’t think of anything more emotionally hellish than living in the place where you made a family, in the place where you were emotionally at home, after everything was taken away from you, as a sacrificial gesture of friendship.”

The recoil was entirely emotional this time, and what had seemed comforting—to live in Eddie and Christopher’s house—suddenly seemed like it would be like living somewhere haunted. He took a sip of the chai, trying to find some emotional balance.

“If you want to make a gesture for your friend, help find him a good sub, help him pack, give him a hug, and let go. If you don’t want to make his departure about yourself, deal with your angst in therapy, and move on with your life.

“But let me tell you this, it’s okay to make yourself the center of your own life. However, it seems like you’re in orbit around everyone else. Letting Eddie be your landlord is just creating a tie between you two.” Lou sat back and cocked his head. “Or is that what you want?”

“I…don’t know. I don’t think so, but maybe I was trying to create one when Eddie said to a complete stranger that he had no ties in California. Making sure he wouldn’t forget about me or something.”

Lou sighed. “What happens with your friendship at this point has to be a two-way street; it can’t be defined by a lease.”

“Yeah.”

“But maybe a do-over for you isn’t a bad thing. Get a new place to live, a new car… Do something symbolic to show you’re moving on. Did you do anything after your relationship ended?”

“I baked a lot.”

Lou’s eyes narrowed. “Are you why Athena spent about three weeks coming in with a mountain of cookies, cakes, muffins, and breads?”

“Ah, probably.”

“She just said one of her kids was doing a baking thing.”

“Simplistic but not lying.”

Lou sighed. “I’m not a sweets person, but those loaves, especially the banana bread, was great. I’m pretty sure I gained five pounds.”

Buck straightened up in his seat and peered at Lou. “Can’t tell.

Lou laughed. “Ass. I went to the gym. At my age, I can’t afford to let a suspect have that kind of advantage.”

“Yeah, you’re an old man.”

“Bet I could still take you.”

Buck grinned. “That’s definitely flirting.”

“Could be.” Lou pulled a card from his pocket and scribbled some numbers on the back. “This is my cell. If you text me, I’ll send you Jeanette’s number. She’s an admin in our precinct. She’s a single mother of two with family in the area; I know she’s been looking for a place to live. If I remember where Diaz is located, it’s in the school district she needs for her kids not to have to transfer, and if it’s available on short notice, she’d probably cry. She’d absolutely cry on you if you offered to help her move. I’ll even throw in making my own back sore if it works out.”

“For real?”

“If you want to throw your mental health on the sacrificial pyre of living in the shrine of what feels like your broken family, then please do so, but this seems like the better option for making the grand gesture to your friend.”

“Your bluntness is awful,” Buck complained without heat.

“I know.” Lou tapped the card. “You can also use that number to just talk, or text, or if you want company on any journeys of self-discovery in being the center of your own universe, such as a new house or a new car.”

The ideas filled Buck with such trepidation, but they were also exciting.

“And when you’re ready, if you’re serious about the flirting, you can use the number for that too.”

Buck met Lou’s gaze head-on. “You think I’m not serious?”

“I suspect you’re attracted, but serious…? I’m not sure. I think you’re still a little hung up on Tommy, and your friend group doesn’t seem like it gives you much room to emotionally process things because they have patterns of shutting you down. Also, you need to figure out if you just love your best friend as your platonic life partner and it hurts that he’s breaking up your family, or if you were in love with him and it hurts that he never saw it.”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, really. It’s a full-on personality flaw.”

“Yeah.”

“Do I have to stop flirting until I figure it out?”

“Hell no, but I won’t take you out on a date until you do.”

Buck found himself smiling softly. “Okay.” He took the card, pulled out his phone, and immediately texted.

Buck: The card was over the top old man. We just exchange numbers right away in this generation. Send me Jeanette’s number.

Lou pulled out his phone and grinned at the screen.

Lou: What’s your favorite song?

Buck: For what purpose?

Lou: Driving

Buck: The Eagles in general. One specific song. Hotel California. Because it’s a mood.

Lou laughed and met Buck’s gaze. “Favorite bass line in a rock song?”

“Um… Just any rock genre?”

“Say classic rock?”

“Tom Sawyer by Rush.”

“I’m going to date you so hard for that.” Lou pointed at him. Tom Sawyer was such a go-to for drummers, but he rarely heard anyone bring up the bass line. “What about a non-rock song?”

“Good Times by Chic.”

“God. Why do you have good musical taste?”

Buck laughed. “Don’t let it fool you. I’ve been steeped in all this pre-1975 music for hours now, so I’ve got it on the brain. I’m going to be humming Roberta Flack for days. I listen to more modern music than anything when I’m out and about, though I tend to listen to oldies at home. And Eddie listens to nothing but country and whatever Christopher pouts him into, which used to be the all Disney network, but I’m not sure what it is anymore.”

Lou chuckled, then sobered, giving Buck an intent look. “Listen, let yourself be the center of your world for a while. It’s okay to take care of others, but you should know this well, considering your occupation—don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm.”

Buck smiled sadly. “Am I?”

“You tell me.”

“But I do wind up making it about me.”

“Or do you hold on too hard because you don’t know how to express what you’re feeling, and the people around you are very accustomed to overlooking what’s right in their face? I’m not saying it’s all one thing or another, but sometimes the best way to salvage relationships is to give them a little space. If they don’t survive, were they ever that great?”

“That’s a terrible litmus test.”

“It works.” Lou slid out of the booth first as his leg was on the outside, their thighs sliding against each other in a tantalizing way. “Come on. We’re both stone-cold sober, but I know you didn’t drive, so I’ll drop you home.”

“I can Uber.”

“You can do all kinds of things. And I don’t offer things if I don’t mean them sincerely.”

Buck smiled and accepted. As he passed the bar, he leaned over to catch MJ’s attention. “Hey, would you tell your mom that’s the most amazing chai I’ve ever had. She’s brilliant. Thank you so much.”

“Had much authentic chai, have you?”

“I did some repair work for a couple who’d met in and immigrated from Mumbai, and they served chai—”

“Mumbai!” came a screech from the small kitchen area, and then a tiny woman in a traditional green saree rounded the corner and stalked up to Buck. “Of course I make better chai.” She stared up at him, giving him an intense assessment. “You will come again. Are you a vegetarian?”

MJ nodded frantically behind her mother’s back.

“Yes. Recently. I’m still working on getting enough protein through plant sources.”

“Good! My chickpea curry is better than anything anyone from Mumbai would make. Mumbai! Bah. Come back soon.” She reached up and patted his cheeks. “You’re a good boy. Not so tall as Lou. I can barely touch his face. Lou! Bring him to family dinner soon.”

“Of course, Medha.”

“Good good.” She wandered off, muttering, “Mumbai!”

Lou waved to MJ, and Buck did the same. As soon as they were outside, Buck couldn’t help but ask. “They really named her Mary Jane?”

“Always call her MJ in her mother’s presence. Her parents agreed to alternate naming with their kids. So her oldest sibling has a traditional Indian first name and a more European middle name, then her brother has it flipped with the European first name and Indian middle name, and then back to her with the traditional name of Meher Jane. Which apparently means benevolence, but don’t expect any if you call her Meher or piss off her mother.”

Buck laughed. “Does she dislike her name, or was she teased about it or something?”

“Oh no… Nothing like that. She was a total pothead. Still is. Her friends started calling her Mary Jane in college, and it stuck. They used MJ around Medha, and then MJ just sort of stuck, and they named the bar MJ’s.”

“You called her Mary Jane, though.”

Lou grinned. “Sometimes I’m reminding her how we met before pot was legal in this state.”

“I’m not sure I want to know this story or not.”

“Meh. In my career, I’ve never arrested anyone for personal-use marijuana, only for trafficking. She was just a user, and I taught her how to stay out of trouble. How to keep her bar on the up and up and stay on the right side of the legal statutes and all that business. She’s good people. She just smokes more than anyone should, realistically. I do my best to make sure she doesn’t drive.”

Lou showed him to a late-model Subaru Forester that he thought was probably dark blue in color, but it could just as easily be black.

“Somehow Subaru doesn’t seem like your car,” Buck commented with a grin, feeling oddly flustered as Lou held open the door for him. He settled himself into the seat and waited as Lou went around to the driver’s side.

“It doesn’t, huh? What seems more like me? Cadillac Escalade?” he asked with a grin.

“Big and flashy? No. I was thinking more like a BMW X5 or something.”

Lou blinked at him. “Well, that’s flattering. Functional but expensive.” He tapped on the Subaru logo. “Do you know what that is?”

“Their logo?”

Lou smiled. “I assume you know what the Pleiades are?”

“The seven daughters of Atlas and Pleione? And there were seven stars in the constellation Taurus named after them? Yes, I know what the Pleiades are.”

“Blue stars.”

“Pardon?”

“The Pleiades are blue giants. In cosmic terms, they live fast and die young. Blue stars are the biggest, brightest stars in the galaxy. Blue stars are larger, hotter, and burn out faster than their yellow counterparts. They’re lovely, really. Anyway, in Japan, that group of stars is called Subaru.” He tapped the logo in blue with little stars on it. “I’ve always driven a Subaru. I have it to remind me to appreciate the beautiful things in the world because you never know how long they’ll last.”

Lou looked lost in a memory. “We want the beautiful things to last our whole lives, but sometimes they’re only there for a flash. It’s important to appreciate them for what they are and not try to make them be something else. We can’t make a blue star be a yellow star.” Lou looked over and met Buck’s gaze. “Just like we can’t make people stay, but it doesn’t—it shouldn’t—take away the beauty of when they were here.”

Buck didn’t flinch away from Lou’s gaze, just let himself stay lost in the moment. “Trying to force things never works, does it?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen, no. People come and go. The best you can do is be in the best possible place in your own life with your own mental health, so you can be receptive to new people and new experiences. Embrace new things, hold on when it’s appropriate, and let go when you need to.”

“It’s time to let go.”

Lou didn’t respond verbally; he just patted Buck’s knee, then started the car.

“If I knew you were this easy to talk to, we might have been friends years ago.”

Lou laughed. “We all have our journeys to walk. I scared the crap out of you when we first met.”

“True.”

“I enjoyed that.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

Lou grinned, focused carefully on the road. “How’s Taylor?”

“We text occasionally; she’s okay. Doing well in her career, which is, I think, what she is mostly focused on.”

“Like I said, we all have our journeys. You’ve been on a personal journey for a long time, it seems.”

“Yeah, and Taylor was definitely on a professional one. I guess that was a clash. I suppose I should find out where people are in the future before I get too far down the dating path.” He peered curiously at Lou. “What path are you on?”

“My career trajectory is set. They’ve been trying to make me captain for a while. I’ll probably go to chief very fast after. I’m just resisting being away from the legwork while I can.” He hesitated. “I put it all into the job for a long time. I’m willing to do some casual relationships, I guess, but I want something real—something long-term. I don’t need another shooting-star relationship.” He shot Buck a brief look. “I’d ask you about your trajectory, but it’s clear you’ve been seeking long-term.”

“Yeah. I just…I should be more upfront about it. I thought Tommy wanted long-term, but he thought I was experimenting or something. Or whatever it is that comment meant.” Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. “I recognize the mistakes I made there. I got in my head and got all out of order and asked him to move in before I got the words ‘I love you’ out because I was all jumbled up, but before I could backtrack and straighten out my jumbled mess of a brain, he was walking out the door.”

“I wasn’t there, so I really have no idea what all went wrong, but I don’t think getting out the move-in ask before the ‘I love you’ was the death knell. If it was, the issue really is his. At worst, he should have asked you to slow down and talk things out. He got all up in his feelings about something and executed a really poorly explained breakup. Even if he panicked in the moment about something you said, or didn’t say, the adult thing to do is call the next day and say, ‘can we talk this out?’ Even if the right thing to do is still to break up, talking it out is the right path. So I can’t say I think too much about his break-up skills.

“But honestly, I don’t think much about Eddie’s breakup skills either.”

Buck blinked. “Eddie and I aren’t in a relationship.”

“Aren’t you? It might be platonic, but is it not a relationship? Hasn’t it been for nearly seven years? To varying degrees of intimacy and closeness?”

Buck opened his mouth to reply in the negative but then snapped it closed. “I don’t know what to say. It feels like you’re just on my side in all this.”

“Maybe, but you know I’m blunt. I already told you some shit you didn’t want to hear. You’ve been brutally honest about your own fuckups, so it’s not like I needed to point them out, but you really gloss over and ignore other people’s fuckups. You really need to work on that, by the way. Because when it comes to making it all about you, that might be it…assuming every fault is yours.

“I realize that’s the opposite of what everyone means, but to assume you’re responsible for everything going wrong is a form of divinity on its own. So, stop making it all about you, and let these people take responsibility for their own mistakes. Even if they won’t step up to the plate, it doesn’t mean you have to. It can sit there like leftovers no one put away.”

“Until it gets smelly?”

“Well, when it comes to mistakes no one is taking accountability for? Yes. They do start to smell.” After a beat, Lou added, “Remember, just because no one is stepping up, it doesn’t mean you have to. Let it fall. The world will keep turning.”

“Do you think I should leave the 118?” Buck blurted out. “Wow, I don’t even know where that came from.”

“Don’t you? And I’m not sure my opinion matters here. What do you think?”

“I keep thinking familiarity breeds contempt. Not with Eddie. I think our boundaries got lax, and that’s as much my fault as his. But work… Maybe starting over is better.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t know what that hmm means.”

“Change, even good change, can start to be overwhelming. Start with one thing. Let it process and see how you feel before you change something else. If you change ten things for the better, you’re going to be stressed and unhappy, I can promise you that.”

“Seems counterintuitive.”

“The brain’s stress systems are what they are. Getting married is a wonderful experience, right? And yet, how many violent events occur during wedding planning or even the wedding itself? Positive changes can be stressful. Moving to a new house is usually great, but the stress of moving is a lot. Between Tommy, Eddie, possibly moving, maybe getting a new car, adding a job change too is a lot of mental stress in a short period of time.”

Buck laughed. “What’s with the car?”

“Why do you still have it? And don’t tell me it’s because it runs well or because it’s safe. You can’t slide that by me.”

“Fair.” Buck mulled that over. “Maddie. It’s because Maddie gave it to me.”

“Hmm. I definitely don’t know that whole story, but if you’re holding on to an ancient vehicle that you’re sinking too much money into repairing that you should not be toting a kid around in…figure out why.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about that.” Buck hesitated. “You know, I feel like this conversation has been remarkably one-sided.”

Lou shook his head, attention still on the road, though they were getting close to Buck’s place. “Honestly, things are good for me, and it was one of those days—weeks, really—where I felt like nothing I said helped anyone. I wasn’t even talking to you with the intent of making up for how frustrating this week had been.

“Even if you hadn’t needed a lick of advice, you needed someone to listen, and I could do that. Sometimes, it helps to end the day feeling like you might have made a positive difference in the world.” He pulled up to Buck’s building, stopping in front of the main doors since the visitor spaces were taken.

“You know where I live.”

“I dropped you off here after I detained you and Kelly.”

“That was years ago.”

“I have an uncanny memory for directions.”

Buck smiled. “Whether it was your intent or not, you made a big difference for me tonight. Sometimes, I just need to get it out of my head. The longer it spins around, the worse it gets.”

“I think most people are like that. We all need to be heard.”

“You know, if you ever need to be heard, I’ll listen. You’ve got my number.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Lou unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into Buck’s space, their faces barely an inch apart. “Remember my offer,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to the hinge of Buck’s jaw, right in front of his ear.

Buck shivered a little. “I doubt I’ll be able to forget it.”

Lou grinned, then hopped out of the car and jogged around to open Buck’s door.

Buck took a steadying breath, then climbed out. “You always like this?”

“Polite?”

“Sure, we’ll call it that.”

“Then, yes.” Lou was so freaking tall that Buck actually had to look up a bit at him when they were standing this close. Lou reached up, his thumb grazing along Buck’s jaw. “Goodnight…do you mind if I call you Evan?”

Buck’s mind was in a whirl, but he knew pretty quickly what the answer was. “As long as it’s never dismissive…it’s good.”

Tommy was the only person to consistently call him Evan, and Buck had thought he’d be the last, but he’d decided he liked it from a romantic partner, even a prospective one, and if they felt so inclined, he’d go with it. It felt like occupying a different headspace.

“Dismissive?” Lou seemed to mull that over. “All right, I’ll be sure to remember that. Good night, Evan.” He took Buck’s hand, turned it over, and gently kissed the inside of his wrist. “Be safe out there, Firefighter.”

Then Lou was gone, and Buck’s stomach was still full of butterflies.

Chapter Two

Lou jumped into the department-issued SUV and double-checked the GPS to make sure he knew how to get where he wanted to be. He preferred to learn his way around and check directions when necessary rather than rely on GPS.

As soon as he was sure of where he was going, he connected to his own Bluetooth headset. He never connected his phone to department-issued vehicles for privacy reasons.

He had a message from Evan waiting.

Evan: I’ve decided you’re trolling me about Big Band music. There’s no way you like this.

Grinning, he shot back a reply.

Lou: It reminds me of my grandparents, so there’s a nostalgic quality to the term “like.”

Evan: Meaning you couldn’t pay you to sit still and listen to this?

Lou: It’s not bad to dance to.

Evan: I see your deflections Lieutenant.

He laughed outright.

Lou: I’m getting on the road, returning from a scene. Drive will be a at least forty minutes. Call if you want.

Evan: On shift but we’ve got downtime. I’ll head up to the roof and call in a minute. Cute how you keep using commas in text. Feel free to loosen up.

With an even bigger smile, Lou put his phone down and got on the road.

He’d half thought they’d text once or twice and that easy bar conversation would be just something he’d pull out and think of late at night and wonder if he’d missed out on something great, but then Evan had started texting him, and Lou had texted back, and it had been so easy. Their bar conversation had morphed into something.

It had only been three days, but he felt like he’d known Evan for months already.

The headset made its soft chimes in his ear, and he tapped it to connect.

“Who is your favorite female vocalist?” Evan asked immediately.

Lou chuckled. “If I were you, I’d demand specific context, genre, and possibly even a decade and vocal range, but that’s an easy one for me. Aretha Franklin.”

“I can’t fault your choice. I could listen to nothing but Aretha for a whole weekend and not get tired of it at all.”

“You?”

“I’m torn because I have some very specific memories of hearing Patsy Cline when I was young that stay with me to this day, but I’m going to go all in with Linda Ronstadt.” Evan’s musical breadth continued to surprise Lou, though he really needed to not let it. Anyone who could easily pop off with Tom Sawyer and Good Times as their favorite bass lines wasn’t lacking nuance in their musical taste.

“Why Linda?”

“For how accomplished she was, there was something so effortless about the way she sounded. Karen Carpenter was the same way. You could be fooled into thinking almost anyone could sing the way they did, when almost no one could.”

“And do you like Linda’s music as well as her voice?”

“Definitely. I was actually on the bayou the first time I heard Blue Bayou, and I think I put it on repeat and listened to it the whole night instead of getting any sleep.”

“When did you go through that part of the country?”

“Hmm. I guess I was fully nineteen by then. I headed straight south when I left Pennsylvania, which was the March before I turned nineteen. Spent the summer in Florida working in a wildlife sanctuary, and then I headed west. I worked in a couple of garages and diners in Louisiana to make some extra traveling money and then made even more money because I’d learned how to handle gators at the wildlife sanctuary, so I was able to help with some local wildlife issues out there before I kept heading west.”

“I do know that you eventually landed in Colorado.”

“There was a swing up to Montana first, but mostly I was headed west, yeah. I’d thought I wanted to go north, but Montana is too fucking cold, so I headed right back south, and wound up in Colorado. Not that Colorado isn’t cold too, but there’s something about those wide open states that’s a whole other level of freeze your ass off. At least, the part of Montana I was in was wide open spaces. No fucking thank you.”

“Someday, I want to hear the whole travel saga. Start to finish.”

“No one wants to hear that,” Evan said on a laugh.

Lou frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want to hear that? I don’t know many people as well-traveled within the US, much less… Hm. How many other countries?”

“Um. Costa Rica, Malaysia. Canada. And then Peru and Mexico, of course, I don’t count all the countries near Mexico and Peru that I traveled to incidentally. That’s like counting South Dakota when you drove through it on your way to North Dakota.”

“I sort of see your point, except I’ll bet you can tell me something uniquely different about each of those countries you’ve been to.”

“Of course I can,” Evan sounded affronted. “I don’t understand your point.”

“Let’s use your example. What’s different between North and South Dakota?”

“People associate South Dakota with the badlands, but that’s because they’re thinking of the national park called the Badlands. In general terms, badland is a geological term, and it’s found all over that area, including in North Dakota. Aside from North Dakota being a little flatter in general, the biggest difference between the two is probably economic. South Dakota lends itself more to tourism due to its more famous National parks and monuments, while North Dakota has a more robust oil industry and more agriculture than South Dakota does.”

“And why do you know that off the top of your head?”

Evan paused. “I’m not sure…?”

“And if I asked you the economic difference between the countries around Peru that you’ve visited, could you tell me?”

“Yes. Couldn’t anyone?”

Lou burst out laughing. “No, Evan, they absolutely could not.”

“But if they’d been there, they could.”

“Probably not even then. I know people who’ve been on the full tour of Europe and couldn’t tell me the difference in the main economic export from England versus France.”

“But they’re almost the same…”

“Pardon?”

“France and England. They have top exports in pharmaceuticals and vehicles, but England has stuff like generalized machinery, while France has things more along the lines of aircraft and spacecraft, which is ironic considering the stereotypical cliches about the French as engineers.”

Lou realized his mouth was hanging open. “Okay, maybe not the best example in retrospect. But most people don’t know that off the top of their head.”

“Are you sure? They’re major economic partners of ours; why wouldn’t people know that?”

“I don’t really have a great answer for that, but just trust me on the human nature side of it.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Evan, can I ask… Do you have an eidetic memory?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I’ve never asked.”

“You’ve never…asked,” he repeated.

“I forget things.”

“Like what?”

“Things that don’t matter.”

“Fair enough. What’s the point in remembering things that don’t matter? Do me a favor though…? Bring it up with your therapist?”

“You think I need help?” Evan sounded a little shocked, but not offended or affronted, from what Lou could tell.

“No, but how our brains work matters. If your brain is a little differently wired than other people’s, it might matter more to your therapist than anyone else, right? I don’t think it’s important in the grand scheme of things, but she could think it’s relevant in terms of how you process information, and it might help her with how to frame things for you.”

“Huh. Okay. Thanks. I’ll talk to her. So, where are you?”

“Out by the coast. Some remains were found, and the circumstances are ambiguous.”

“So, not exactly a fun day at the beach.”

“Not really but, to be fair, it’s older remains, so that’s a mixed bag. There are pros and cons to picking up what is clearly an older case. We take the good with the bad.”

“I’m naturally a curious person, so it really sucks that you can’t talk about most of what you do.”

“Well, if this starts to remind me of something, I’ll tell you about that case. How’s that for a compromise?”

“Square deal. I think I’ll find a song to send you to stave off your epic boredom.”

“Turnabout has to be fair play on that,” Lou shot back. “I think we need rules, though.”

“Like a theme?”

“Yeah, maybe. It has to have charted in the top 40, on some chart, in some week, during the year in question.”

“Okay. What year?”

“For this time, how about the year we graduated high school?”

“We didn’t graduate high school the same year,” Evan said sassily.

“Smart ass. I graduated in ‘97. ’09 for you?”

“No, um, ’07. Summer session, but it was still in ’07.”

“You graduated two years early?”

“Not quite. I had to complete the summer session to graduate.”

“But you were sixteen?”

“No, I turned seventeen in the summer, so I was seventeen before I graduated. My birthday is June 30th.”

“Okay. 2007 it is.” He didn’t want to push harder on that and make Evan uncomfortable.

“And when is your birthday?”

“Oh, was I supposed to tell?” Lou teased.

“I’m pretty sure I can get it by Googling, but I’ll feel less like a stalker if you’ll just tell me.”

Lou laughed. “August first.”

“I’m always surrounded by Leos.”

“Do you really buy into astrology?”

“Of course not, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m always surrounded by Leos.” An alarm started to blare faintly in the background. “That’s me. Gotta run. Expect music from 1947!”

Lou sighed then chuckled as the line disconnected. “I’m in way too deep,” he muttered to himself as he turned the radio on.

By the time he was back at the station, he had several texts to read.

Evan: You graduated in the year of MMMBop and Tubthumping. I feel like this explains everything.

Evan: As much as you should get to enjoy Hanson tonight I think we need something a little deeper.

Evan: Aside… Your graduation year apparently had the enduringly best sex song of all time. Pony by Ginuwine. Had no idea it was that OLD.

Lou sighed at the dig at his age.

Evan: It was the year of the boy bands Lou. I wish I could pick MORE THAN ONE. But since I can’t…

Evan: Secret Garden by Bruce Springsteen

His eyebrows shot up.

Evan: Sleep well when you get there.

Lou sat in the parking lot, staring at his phone for the longest time. He knew the song already, of course he knew it, though he didn’t start developing an appreciation for Springsteen for a few years after high school. Secret Garden happened to be one of his favorites.

He was pretty sure he knew which song he wanted to send Evan; he just needed to be sure it charted on some chart in 2007. He thought it hit the peak of its popularity a couple of years after Lou graduated the police academy, and that was in 2005.

He pulled out his phone and did a couple of searches.

Lou: Don’t throw stones at my graduation year, Fergalicious

Lou: There’s so much Fergie and Justin Timberlake to choose from, Evan.

Evan: I was nice!

Lou: You were indeed. Your song is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

Evan: Hmm. Autobiographical?

Lou: Cute.

Grinning, Lou hopped out of the car and headed into the station.

Two hours later, he got another text.

Evan: I loved it. Thanks.

Lou: I already knew I loved Secret Garden, but I hadn’t listened to it in a while. I’ve had it on repeat while I worked for the last hour. It was a good night. Sleep well, Evan.

Evan: Goodnight Lou

~*~

Buck waved excitedly, then hopped to his feet as soon as Carla appeared.

“Buckaroo!” she exclaimed, tolerating him sweeping her off her feet as she laughed and hugged back with vigor. “I’ll accept one hug of such exuberance, but I insist on staying on my feet in the future.”

He set her back down and leaned back, holding her by her upper arms. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. You’ve been so good about keeping in touch, but I was pleased as punch that you wanted to meet for lunch.”

Buck shrugged and led her over to the table, pulling out her chair. “I feel like if I’d kept in touch half as much as I wanted to, you’d have gotten so tired of me,” he said with a grin.

“Never, baby. I’ve missed your sunshine smile. Just like I miss my sunshine boy.” Her expression dimmed a bit. “He doesn’t call much anymore, but he responds to emails occasionally.”

Buck nodded, understanding. “I was thinking maybe we should start sending short video messages. The teenage years are not easy, and he’s just started tripping into that hormonal minefield. It’s a lot, and he probably has mixed feelings about everything. He doesn’t want to take the time away from more ‘fun’ things to deal with what he perceives as old people in his life, but when he does miss us, he feels guilty for not communicating.”

“That’s both insightful and wise of you. What are you thinking?”

“We gotta take the burden off. Not just him, but us as well. I can’t be in mourning for a kid that isn’t mine and that I have no rights to for the rest of my life, you know? I’ll always miss him, but I’m not even making ninety percent of the overtures, I’m making one hundred percent of them. The one time he called me back, he was pissed that I wasn’t available.”

“That’s definitely teenage years.”

“Yeah, and I indulged it by apologizing, which set a bullshit precedent, to be honest. Though, to be fair, I did that years ago, but that’s a whole other story.” He smiled. “Anyway, we gotta move on, but still let him know he’s loved. Remove the guilt in the messages, the ‘I miss you, I never hear from you’ vibe. All the time I spend trying to get in touch with Chris, I could spend with other people.” He nudged her gently with her foot. “So, we film a quick video. Whoever we’re with, whatever we’re doing. The vibe is ‘life moves on, we still think of you, want you to know you’re loved.’ Send the message, ask nothing in return.

“Either he’ll write, or he won’t. Honestly, it’s the approach I plan to take with Eddie, and I don’t have high expectations of return communication.”

Their server finally showed up at their table. “I am so sorry. We have a big party and—”

“Believe me, we heard them,” Buck said with a smile, “in all of their rude, demanding glory. We’re not in any particular rush.” He pushed out the spare chair and opened the menu. “Please sit for the next couple of minutes and pretend like you’re explaining this menu to me. We know exactly what we want. Carla even wrote it down for you, but we’re going to pretend like we’re clueless and need everything explained so you can take a rest.”

The server looked so tempted because she was obviously utterly exhausted. “If my manager catches me sitting…”

“I’ll explain it away,” Carla said with a severe look. “I have a bad neck and can’t look up at people. Someone looming over me is a borderline hostile act. Now, please sit. I’m not sure I know what a salad is. I come from a long line of meat eaters.”

She sat, looking like she wanted to collapse completely. She reminded him of May in stature and looks, though she wore her hair in long box braids instead of the shorter styles May favored.

“We were just talking about how to communicate with teenagers who don’t want to communicate in return. Buck here was suggesting short video messages that don’t have any potential hidden guilt phrases like ‘I miss you’ or ‘you never write’ or ‘I never heard back from you.’”

“Yeah, I was thinking of straight and simple things about how life here is still going on, but he’s not forgotten by anyone, so we’re stopping to say hi. Keep it short, quickly digestible, and no pressure to reply.”

“That’s sweet, and it will probably help. I’m in college, so I don’t even have being a teenager to fall back on as an excuse, but sometimes, all the emails and texts and well wishes just feel like a mountain of expectations that I’m not meeting.” Her cheeks darkened with a bit of a flush. “Sorry, you didn’t ask about that.”

“But we don’t mind hearing it,” Buck offered with a smile. “I’m Buck, this is Carla. I’m a firefighter; she’s a nurse and home healthcare goddess.”

“I’m Jasmine. I’m in the civil engineering program at UCLA. It’s exhausting, and we’re applying for internships for the summer, even though that’s still months away.” She gave a tired smile. “It’s tough right now.”

“You applying with the city?” Buck asked curiously.

“Some of the best internships are with the city, so everyone starts there, but also all the big firms. At this point, everyone takes what they can get. The city at least pays something. Many of the private internships are the ‘you’re lucky to get the experience, missy’ sort.”

“Ouch.” Buck produced his credentials to show he was a firefighter with the LAFD and scribbled his department email on a napkin. “If you want to send me your campus intern profile, that’d be cool. I don’t know a ton of people, but I can see if any of them know who is looking for interns. That’s my department email, so you know I’m not being weird. Please don’t send anything goofy, but I do accept cat memes at all times. And Star Wars puns are always on point.”

She grinned. “You’d do that? What if I’m awful?”

“You don’t go into being an intern fully baked. The whole point is to get training. That’s like saying you’re going into your probie year as a firefighter knowing how to rescue someone who fell off a cliff.”

She clutched the napkin to her chest. “Thanks. This is the best thing to happen to me all week.”

“Ms. Lett! Should you be sitting at a customer’s table?” a stern-faced man said from behind Jasmine.

“She absolutely should!” Carla snapped. “I have neck issues and can’t look up at people, so looming, such as you’re doing, is not going to be tolerated. My son needs help with the menu, and I instructed her to sit and assist him. Now go away before I take your height as an act of aggression.”

The manager looked so startled that he left without another word.

Buck waited a beat and then whispered, “I’m much taller than him.”

“You don’t look it when you’re sitting down,” Carla replied sotto voce as she stuck her face in the menu.

“Also…your son.”

“Adopted, obviously.”

Buck sighed. “You and Athena can fight it out.”

“I can take her.”

“Don’t tell her that my money is on you.”

Jasmine giggled and pretended to explain lettuce to Buck.

~*~

Buck strolled leisurely through the park with Carla’s hand tucked into his elbow.

“Let’s stop there and take the video.” Carla pointed to a bench in front of a manicured pond. Lots of ducks were swimming, but it was the middle of the workday, after lunch hour, and there weren’t many people around.

They sat close together on the bench, and Buck held the camera up, activating the record function. “Hey, Superman. Here with Carla at the park. We just had lunch and, of course, our favorite people came up. Just wanted to drop a message to say hi and we’re thinking of you.”

“Hey there, baby. Hope Texas is treating you well. Remember, no matter how old you are, marijuana is not legal in Texas, and you’re too young to drink. Save that business for when you’re older.”

Buck started laughing.

Carla’s expression got softer. “We talk about you all the time, kiddo. Keep doing your exercises. Losing muscle mass helps no one. We’ll video again soon. Love you bunches. Bye!”

“Bye, buddy!”

He stopped the recording. “Harder than I thought not to say all the usual stuff.”

“Yeah, I had to keep checking myself.” She sighed and gave him a searching look. “How are you doing, my dear? It must be hard to have Eddie leave.”

He shrugged. “It’s weird how everyone acts like I shouldn’t care. That I should just put on the supportive friend face and help him pick out paint swatches for his new fixer-upper.” He forced a smile. “But I’m trying.”

“Honestly, you’re not going to hear that from me. I told Eddie back then that he was wrong to let Chris go, and he was wrong to let this go on so long. He was basically overindulging an emotional tantrum because he felt guilty, and then he let it go on and on, and once his parents had physical custody, it was over.”

“Christopher needed a different environment, though. He didn’t feel safe here.”

Carla held up her hand. “Don’t feed me that line of bullshit. Christopher may have needed a break from his father, but he did not need to go to freaking Texas. He has a plethora of family he could have stayed with here, not to mention you, his godfather, would have given him the break from Eddie that he needed.” She shook her head. “No, that was not what happened. Eddie let him go because Eddie felt guilty and couldn’t be rational about the situation. And he wasn’t even doing what was best for Christopher.”

“But Chris said—”

“Stop. Christopher is a child, a teenager at that. And as much as I love that boy, I spent as much time with him as anyone, and I know how little he tolerated his grandparents. He called Helena and Ramon that night as an act of spite. The whole family thinks Christopher farts sunshine and rainbows, and I love that about you, but he’s a normal kid on any given day.

“You and Eddie seeing Christopher through rose-colored glasses is fine, but it makes it hard for you to be objective about when Christopher’s behavior is just plain old normal. Chris lashed out at his father in anger, and Eddie let him get away with it.

“Christopher probably never meant it to be permanent; he probably just wanted to hurt his father the way he was hurting, and after a few days, there was probably a punitive angle to it, but I promise you, it started out of anger and spite. It was not to make himself feel safe. If that boy has ever needed to feel safe, he goes to you or his abuela. He has never once in his life called Helena or Ramon when he was scared, upset, or even angry. In fact, he actively avoids them under those circumstances because they destabilize his emotional equilibrium too much.

“This whole thing was purely to get at his father, and Eddie enabled it.”

It resonated with Buck like truth, because it filled in all the things that didn’t make sense about the situation, except for one thing. “But why didn’t he ever want to come home? Eddie kept asking and asking. Even once they started working things out, Chris never wanted to talk about it.”

“Who knows? Either it’s as simple as he’s made friends and he’s comfortable where he is, or it’s something more complicated, like he’s testing Eddie to see if Eddie will come to him. Or he could be finding himself financially indulged by his grandparents and enjoying that, even if he’d prefer to be with his father. His grandparents could legitimately have started to repair their relationship with him, and he might have formed new bonds with them. Or it could be a mixture of things. Human nature—teenage nature—is rarely straightforward.

“But what I’m certain of is that the Christopher Diaz I know, who left for Texas, did not go to Texas to feel safe. He went to Texas to punish Eddie, and he’ll likely wind up in a horrible cycle of not being able to admit that and eventually feeling bad about it.”

Buck frowned. “Will Eddie’s moving there make that worse?”

“Oh, for sure. If I’m right, Chris will feel guilty, he’ll start to lash out when he was fine before Eddie moved to Texas, the Diaz parents will blame Eddie.”

“Should we say something?”

“I told Eddie all of this way back when, and he didn’t want to hear it, Buckaroo. People have to walk their own road, even teenagers. You need to let them sort this out. You were telling me earlier a bit about how you’re trying to figure out your life with yourself as the center of it. Tell me, does trying to solve this problem fit into that plan?”

Buck hesitated and then shook his head. “Eddie rarely listens until he’s ready.”

“Right. I’ve said it all to him more than once. Isabel has said it to him as well. Even Pepa got in on telling him he was making a mistake to let this drag on. You didn’t need to, and you didn’t see it, because you have Christopher so high up on a pedestal that you can’t see him as being both a wonderful kid and doing something spiteful to his father at the same time. Knock him off the grand heights a bit, okay? He’s just a kid.”

Buck felt like she’d rattled his worldview. “I feel like I should help, but I feel like I’m deep into trying to figure out how to let go at the same time.”

She patted his arm. “I know. Eddie left you behind long before you left him behind. It’s hard, but you need to catch up.”

“Ouch.”

“I pull band aids off quickly, kiddo. I think it’s good to make yourself the center of your existence. You’ve been so outwardly focused for so long, so tell me how you’re making you the center of Buck’s world.”

“Right now, I’m mostly observing. Noticing where I try to get involved with other people and orbit around them. Or try to anticipate what they need or want. I was just noticing. But I’m moving into phase two, which is just disengaging. Don’t get involved unless I’m asked. That sort of thing. It’s weird to deal with my personal life with the mindset of ‘your lack of planning is not my emergency’ because I’ve always treated everyone else’s minor inconveniences as my immediate crisis.”

“And do they do that for you?”

“You know they don’t. I needed a ride to the doctor on one of our off days to get an injection I knew I was going to have a bad reaction to, and I asked with like ten days’ advance notice, and I wound up having to take an Uber.” He shook his head. “I make it sound like everyone is inconsiderate when they’re not. Everyone is busy and has lives, but I’ve made their lives my entire life, and that’s completely my fault.”

“It’s definitely your responsibility,” Carla agreed. “And the hard part is going to be the withdrawal. Holding your boundaries when people are used to being able to call on you. Making them treat you like they would anyone else in their life.”

“Yeah. Boundaries suck.”

“Boundaries can feel like a plague, or they can be like a gilded frame around your life, making everything shiny and pretty. You just have to work for it.”

He smiled at the reframing. “I like that.”

“Make your boundaries pretty and make them work for you.”

“I’ll do that.”

She nudged him. “What else is going on with you?”

He shrugged. “Mostly trying to sort myself out. Figuring out how to live in a world without Eddie and Chris at the center of it.” He felt weirdly choked up admitting it.

She curled into his side. “I’m so sorry, Buck. I wish this could have gone differently.”

“Is there even anything to be sorry for? Everyone is just moving through life, doing the best they can, and sometimes people get hit by stray bullets.” He winced at his own analogy.

“Oh, honey. I can be sorry that this is so rough on you, but we should meet more regularly. Goofy memes in text are proof of life, but they’re not really connecting, you know?”

“That’s true. And seeing you does make me feel better.” He took a breath. “I’ve been talking to my therapist about some stuff. Beyond all the,” he waved his arm around himself in a vaguely circular motion, “being the center of my own universe.”

“Oh? Need to talk about it?”

“It’s just a thing I’m not sure I want to follow up on. I have a type of eidetic memory. Someone suggested it to me, and I decided to talk to her about it. It’s not purely visual, so it’s not things I see or read, but if I read and then talk about it, or hear it, I don’t usually forget it.”

Carla cocked her head, her expression pure “I’m processing this.” After a few moments, she said, “What does this mean for you?”

“Not much, I don’t think. She said it’s good to know about myself, but she said one option is to see a neurologist who specializes in these types of neurodivergence issues. I’m not too fond of the idea.”

“Why?”

“It would mostly be to let him study the way my form of exceptional memory works; it wouldn’t be particularly helpful to me, I don’t think.”

“Ah. Yes, I can see why that would be unappealing. Did anything good come out of that whole thing?”

“Well, after the two sessions we spent just on tests and going over it, she diagnosed me with ADHD, which I’d suspected but hadn’t ever done anything about. From her side, between the memory thing and the ADHD, she said it helps her with how to frame things we discuss, plus it gives her new areas for me to focus on for learning and at-home strategies. She’d always assumed giving me things to read was helpful because I go down research spirals, but she now thinks it’s better if we talk through new topics. I’d never explained that my research always ends up in videos of some sort or talking to people on forums, even if it’s just reading the discourse out loud. I’d certainly never understood that I needed the auditory connection to kick my memory into gear. At least, the long-term part of my memory.

“I don’t know, it might help with how she and I interact, but she said it might mean more sessions as we slow down and talk through concepts more, rather than sending me off to research. Or she might have to be sure to source videos and TED Talks rather than research papers. We’ll see how it goes.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“Well, I’m not going to tell anyone else.”

“Why not?”

“It feels…weird, I guess? I’ve always been this way, and no one ever noticed except to think I had played too much Trivial Pursuit as a kid. I may tone down the trivia. I don’t know… I don’t want to stand out for this.”

“Okay, listen up, Buckaroo. You have to find your people. The ones you can be yourself with. You may not tell them you have an eidetic memory, but you should be able to pull your random facts out whenever you want and be accepted for them. It shouldn’t be anything but endearing, and possibly an invitation to trivia night.”

“I love you, Carla.”

“I love you too, sweetie. Now, we are definitely doing a better job of staying in close contact. You’re going to have at least monthly dinners with me and Howard. I know our schedules are weird, so we schedule monthly dinner ahead of time, and then you and me for coffee dates whenever we can fit them in. You hear me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Get out your calendar. Hopefully, we can start the dinners soon—begin as you mean to go on and all that business. Also, Howard does play in a trivia league, and he’s been bugging me to hook you up to play with him. I have not told him about your memory thing, and I won’t, but when the invite comes, you’ll know it was sincere.” She turned her phone around and showed him a text from that morning.

Howard: And for the last time, woman, if you don’t remember to invite him to my trivia league, I’m changing the locks.

Carla: He’s young enough to be all of your son. Possibly grandson. He could be Don’s great great great great grandson. He’s not going to have fun with a bunch of old men. Find your own friends.

Howard: WOMAN!

Buck grinned. “I’m available for dinner next Saturday; I can come earlier if Howard wants to barbecue. Tell him my best category for trivia is music, but my worst is anything to do with movies or television.”

“You’re such a contradiction. Let’s go get some candy floss and put a picture on Instagram for Christopher.”

“The spite is strong with you.”

She winked at him.

Chapter Three

Lou: Your taste in country music is abysmal.

Buck: Blame Eddie. Most of my exposure is through him.

Lou: Strange considering you lived in Colorado for so long.

Buck: Most of that community was deep into blues or classic rock but there was some old school country. Not anything I really liked tho. Hank Williams is just too much for me.

Lou: Blues huh? Tell me who your favorite is.

Buck: Blues isn’t a go to genre for me most of the time even though I really enjoy it. But I’m ride or die SRV as my favorite. Albert King is damn close second.

Lou: I keep having a hard time faulting your taste. Except for when country is on the table, but I’ll work on it.

Buck: promises promises.

Lou: Tell me something… What is it about music that draws you in?

Buck set down his phone to consider the question for a few minutes. Instead of their conversation and text being a fluke, it had continued in one of the easiest friendships Buck had ever built. Lou usually kept it light, but he could get serious when needed. It was easy, and something Buck had sorely needed. Especially right now.

In the eleven days since he’d met Lou, he’d spent a lot of time figuring out some possible paths for himself and making some steps towards change. That one conversation with Lou had made him eager to move on with his life. Just for himself. One conversation wouldn’t really be enough, but between Lou, Carla, and the extra therapy, he was eager for once to make these changes.

He was at the precipice of seeing some of his plans come to fruition and not being able to turn back. But for now, he just had the mundane task of doing meal prep for the coming week to keep his mind off what was coming next. In a little bit, he’d be headed out for Eddie’s to give Eddie the clean break Eddie seemed to need.

He had a whole folder on his laptop about possible house purchases, but that felt like an even bigger step than a job change for some reason. His next shift wasn’t until Saturday, and it was only a Thursday, but he usually did his meal prep on day three when he had four days off. It was an old habit. With all the upheaval with Eddie, he was also emotionally prepared for anything and trying not to disrupt his routine more than necessary.

Buck: Music is everything. Every emotion is there. You can channel every feeling and every experience. The big feelings are obvious but all the little ones too. To me music is a vivid sense memory. Like how you connect a life experience to a certain smell. You can connect intense experiences or feelings to certain songs.

He hesitated, then sent a follow-up.

Buck: Sometimes I think the right song at the right time makes us feel understood and less alone in the universe.

Lou: Tell me one of your more intense memories associated to music.

Buck: That small town I mentioned in Colorado where I lived for a while. When I first got into town I’d hang out at this one bar all the locals go to. Tourists went elsewhere. By everyone I mean about 20 people on a busy night. Music tended to be from the fifties through the seventies. I remember one of the first nights when I didn’t know anyone yet. Everyone was paired up and people were dancing to the slower music.

Buck: It wasn’t even the dancing. It was that I could tell these couples had been together for a long time and they knew each other in a way I knew no one in the world. In that moment I wanted so badly to know someone that way and have them know me. Anyway this song started playing. The song wasn’t familiar to me yet but I liked the vibe of it. Everyone paired up and started dancing. Even the old cranky bartender started dancing with the one woman at the bar who had arrived late and was there alone. Even those who weren’t a couple seemed to know each other at a deep level.

Buck: I knew right then I wanted to stop traveling and put down roots. I wanted to know people again. There was this intense longing to know someone the way those couples knew one another. I wound up staying in Colorado for a couple of years. The late arrival invited me to dance the next song and then invited me to work at her ranch and then I didn’t leave for two years.

Buck: It’s strange but even though things have gotten better that song both reminds me very vividly of that time in my life but also of the things I don’t yet have.

Buck’s phone rang, Lou’s name flashing on the screen. He put it on speakerphone. “Hey.”

“What’s the song?”

“Time of the Season by the Zombies.”

There was a long pause. “That was playing when I walked up to you at the bar.”

“It was.” Instead of going further down that path, Buck asked, “You still at work?”

“Yeah. It’s only a little after hours. I was thinking about what you said about the difference between a bad outcome and being wrong.”

“Ah. Well, hell. No one listens to me. You should probably go home.”

“Evan,” Lou chastised gently. “Your example was on point. You and Eddie would not have been in the street that day if Eddie hadn’t been chasing the absolute right conclusion about that child. And there was a very bad outcome that had nothing to do with that child. You’re right to remind yourself that they’re not connected even if they feel like they are.”

“Yeah. Because some firefighters would have been there regardless, and someone else would have been shot if we’d been back at the station doing our equipment checks.”

“And that someone else might not have survived.”

“That’s not true. In fact, that’s a wild supposition.”

“The department didn’t review it that way, but I looked at the footage gathered from building security cameras, and you went against department policy to get Eddie off the street. You did what a cop would do, but absolutely not what a firefighter is trained to do. So, you can’t know that it would have been the same outcome for whoever the sniper’s alternate target would have been.”

“Yeah, okay,” Buck conceded. “I lost the plot a little. What’s your point?”

Lou laughed. “You’re the one who said just yesterday that a bad outcome doesn’t mean you were doing the wrong thing and used Eddie getting shot as the example. I’ve been hesitating about following my gut on some things because of a bad outcome in the past when I was following my instincts, and what you said got me to thinking that it’s important to separate cause and effect and what you can and can’t control. Sometimes you do everything right and shit still goes wrong.

“Police and firefighters know this well. Sometimes your actions have no bearing whatsoever on whether or not shit is going to go down. I just need to stop second-guessing myself for fear of what might happen.”

“Can I ask a personal and possibly inappropriate question that you can tell me is none of my business?”

Lou laughed. “Yeah, but I’ll probably answer regardless.”

“Is this about Hudson?”

Lou hesitated so long that Buck got nervous.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, Evan, it’s fine. Hudson certainly is a big factor. So many things there. I came to the right conclusions, but sometimes did the wrong things. There were times I should have had backup, but I didn’t. I missed that his lawyer was a groupie and a fanatic.” He sighed. “It’s been a while, and it messes with me more than I want it to. I second-guess myself. On that subject…” Lou laughed a little. “I never said anything at the time, because I didn’t even know what to say, but I noticed and never forgot. Thank you for the gift.”

Buck flushed. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t a weirdly appropriate gift basket, and you even let me off the hook in your card so that I didn’t have to say thank you. I think you said something like: ‘Please don’t feel you have to do or say anything in response, but your actions and courage are appreciated and will always be remembered.’ And you left your number in the gift basket in case I needed anything, along with all those other things for a sore throat.”

Buck groaned. “I got so much grief for that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. People thought it was dumb to send you honey and chamomile tea after you’d had—”

“Someone slit my throat and then I subsequently had a stroke?” Lou said bluntly, causing Buck to flinch. “Well, let me tell you, swallowing was murder for weeks afterward. For easily a year or more, talking left my throat sore as hell. To this day, it’s affected my eating habits. I never eat hard breads anymore. And there were days and weeks when that tea basket was my best friend. An assortment of teas and flavored honeys was a lot more useful to me than flowers.” Lou sighed. “Honestly, Evan, I never knew what to say to a virtual stranger sending me the only thoughtful gift I received, so I said nothing, but I also never forgot it.”

“I didn’t know you that well, but you’d helped Athena and Harry, who are part of my extended family,” Buck said softly. “When my leg was crushed, it was one of the guys from SWAT on scene with the bomb squad, who sent me a practical gift, and it was weirdly the one I always remember.”

“Oh? What was it?”

“It was just a note about the difficulties of crush injuries, and to never underestimate the power of hands-on healing. It had some balms and creams to try. A couple of them I still use today.”

“Who was it?”

“David Kay. We still text occasionally.”

Lou chuckled. “I know Deacon. He’s a good guy. His sergeant is one of my best friends. I’m glad he reached out to you. It’s hard to know what to say to a veritable stranger at one of the worst moments of their lives, but it figures that Deacon is the guy who would figure it out.”

“Yeah,” Buck readily agreed. “I think it just helps to know you’re not alone, and that the people reaching out don’t need anything from you. That’s the hard part—when people around you want to help, but you feel like you’re disappointing them when they can’t.”

“That’s a them problem,” Lou said firmly. “We’ll work on your inappropriate guilt.”

Buck laughed. “Me and my therapist.”

“Fair,” Lou said with good humor. “You said you and Deacon still talk?”

“We text a few times a week. The occasional life update, but mostly memes. Sometimes, SWAT does community outreach, and I’ll help by sitting there looking prettier than them. And I babysat for him a couple of times.”

“Oh. You’re the firefighter who he says can’t babysit his kids anymore because his kids like you better than their own father.”

Buck laughed. “I can’t help the whole kid whisperer thing.”

“You definitely can’t be held responsible for what nature gave you.” Lou’s tone had shifted to something that felt like sex.

“Lou…”

“Keep working on your business, Buckley. And let me know.”

“Yeah,” Buck sighed. “Your self-reflection to-do list is cruel.”

Lou outright laughed at him. “On the plus side, Jeanette loves you, and I’ve heard all about the kid whisperer thing from her.”

“She’s a sweetheart. Even if it doesn’t work out for her to rent Eddie’s place, I’ll help her find something. I know a couple of people in real estate.”

“I’m sure it will work out. She’s always worried about people trying to take advantage of her since she’s a single mom, so she’s afraid to let down her guard and trust new situations. This basically being a rental by recommendation solves a lot of her issues. Do you know much about the ultimate landlord?”

“He’s a good guy. Owns several houses as part of his retirement vehicle, but he’s not in property management as a career, so he’d rather have good, long-term renters who are low fuss than maximize his profits and risk getting into a financial sinkhole with a bad tenant. He let Eddie put in whatever accessibility changes were needed for Chris and was willing to apply for grants to offset the cost where he could. He’d rather Eddie sublet the place and have Eddie on the hook for the rent legally, but if Jeanette is a good bet, he’ll probably be willing to switch the lease over once he’s sure Jeanette will be as reliable.

“I already explained the situation with him to Jeanette, that he’d rather have a good tenant than anything, so he’s watching Eddie’s situation for now, but I think he and Jeannette will get along fine. Honestly…” Buck hesitated.

“What?”

“I get a vibe about people sometimes. I swear, give it a few months, let them meet in person, and I suspect they’ll be dating.”

“Jeanette is romantically shy since her husband took off with another woman three years ago.”

“Just a feeling.”

“Huh. How often are you matchmaker vibes right?”

“I’d give it an eight out of ten.”

“Interesting. I’d like to hear some of those stories later.”

“I’m sure we’ll get around to my old stories of stories of cosplaying match.com.”

Lou laughed. “I look forward to it. I should let you get to it, and I’ll keep chasing my hunch over here. What’s my song?”

They’d continued on almost daily from their first song swap of their high school graduation years. Some years worked out better for them than others. Today, they were doing their birth years, which was such an obvious pick, he wasn’t sure why it took them so long.

“Well,” Buck said musingly, “there are a lot of songs I like from 1974, so it was hard to choose.”

Lou sputtered. “1979, you ass!”

Buck laughed. “I know, old man. In truth, your birth year was a bit of a rough ride for me because ’79 was such a great year for the fall of disco.”

“You’re really annoying sometimes.”

Chuckling, Buck finished packing up his meals for the week. “Honestly, it was rough because Donna Summer and Gloria Gaynor are amazing, and they’re all over the top of 1979, plus the Bee Gees were dominating, and I do like the Bee Gees. Also, so many emo classics charted that year… Peaches and Herb hit with Reunited.”

“Tell me you didn’t pick Reunited. I can’t listen to that before bed.”

“I didn’t. As much as I was tempted to pick A Little More Love by Olivia Newton-John…” He really wasn’t since he couldn’t stand that song. “I decided on We’ve Got Tonight by Bob Seger.”

“Oh. That’s…one of my favorite songs, actually. It won’t be any hardship to listen to that tonight.”

“I’m glad, then. What’s mine?”

Lou was quiet for a moment before he replied, “Well, it was the year of Rico Suave by Gerardo.”

“Oh Gawd.”

“I have to say that 1991 was an interesting mix of mostly blah and really bad music, but the highs were exceptionally high. For long-term cultural impact, I almost picked R.E.M.’s Losing My Religion, and when I was actually twelve in 1991, I listened to Extreme like it was a religion, so it would have been easy to go with More Than Words. But, for songs that are in my playlist today… Tonight, my friend, you’re listening to Get Here by Oleta Adams.”

Buck frowned. “I knew every song you mentioned until that one.”

“Then that’s a treat for me that we hit a song you don’t know! Text me when you listen to it.”

“Okay, and your turn to pick a year for the next round.” Buck finished cleaning up from his food prep and checked around the loft to see what he needed before leaving.

“How about the year of your greatest achievement. Whatever you think that was. It could be an academic thing, professional, or personal achievement. Just tell me the year, and if you feel like sharing the achievement, I’d love to hear about it.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to think about it a little.”

“Fair enough. Just let me know by lunch tomorrow so I have time to hit the archives and see what charted in your year of choice.”

“Will do. Hey, Lou? Thanks for calling and keeping me company.”

“Anytime. And thanks for the distraction. I think clearing my head was good for my focus. Talk to you soon.”

~*~

Buck knocked on Eddie’s door, wondering if it would be one of the last times he visited this home. So many good memories, and he was determined to hold on to them.

Eddie yanked the door open, looking both harried and startled. “Buck?! You too?”

“Too?”

“Cap and everyone showed up for a going-away dinner, but I have a showing.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Eddie stopped his frenetic hand movements. “Know what?”

“About the showing.”

Eddie glared. “Here to ruin this one too?”

“Hey,” Buck bit out, stepping in and getting right in Eddie’s face, pitching his voice so low no one else could hear despite Cap, Chim, and Hen watching with interest from the living room. “Dial it down. I haven’t been to any showings since the first day, so if you’re struggling, that’s not on me. And check it before you say something else you can’t take back, bro.”

With that, Buck stepped back and held out his hand to the open door and the very petite woman who’d been hovering behind him. “Jeanette, come on in. Despite the overwhelming number of people, they’re all good folks. Eddie, this is Jeannette Frost. She works in administration at the LAPD, has two eight-year-old twin boys who attend school in this district, and she’s been looking for housing available in the near term that wouldn’t require them to transfer to another school.”

When Eddie seemed frozen, Buck kicked him in the ankle, then he rolled his eyes and turned to Jeannette. “Jeanette, despite his poor social skills, this is my best friend, Eddie Diaz. Soon to be late of the LAFD. Those are our idiot co-workers in the background. You can ignore them.”

She waved a little timidly. “I know Bobby actually. Hi, Bobby.”

“Hey, Jeanette. I didn’t know you were looking for a new place.”

“Oh, yeah. For a while now. Our current place is being sold. The landlord is selling to a real estate company, and I doubt I’ll be able to afford the new rent, but the boys didn’t want to change schools, and it’s been so hard to find something. Then a mutual friend introduced me to Buck.” She smiled more sincerely up at him. “I think the boys like him more than me.”

“Ah, yes.” Bobby laughed. “We’re all familiar with the kid takeover.” Bobby gave Buck a searching look. “Thought you were busy tonight…?”

“I am. First thing I had on my agenda was to introduce Jeanette to Eddie, but I’m bowing out now that the intros are done because Eddie absolutely likes to show his own house without any help.” He smiled down at Jeanette. “I do have other appointments tonight, so I’ll leave you to these clowns, but whether you sublet from Eddie or not, the promise of free moving labor is absolutely still on the table. I hope this works out for you, because I know it’s a good neighborhood for kids, but if it shouldn’t, you’ve got my cell, and I’ve got one more idea. It’s just not as much space for the boys.”

She nodded. “Well, I love what I see so far, so I’ll talk to your friend. Either way, I’ll be in touch about the moving muscle. Thanks, Buck.”

“Anytime.” He waved at his coworkers. “See you guys at work.”

Eddie followed him out. “Buck, wait. You really can’t come to dinner?”

Buck glanced back over his shoulder. “I really was already busy when they brought it up.” He made a shooing gesture. “Go, show the house. I hope it works out.”

“Hey, Buck.”

Buck stopped and waited. “Yeah?”

Eddie frowned, hesitating. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, of course. Want you to get the do-over in Texas you deserve.”

“It’s not—”

“See you later, Eds!” Buck jogged down the path to his Jeep.

It was tempting every time he got in the car to listen to his new song from Lou, but the general rule for himself was to listen to them before bed.

He was running a little ahead of schedule, so he got to the restaurant early. After setting a reminder timer on his watch, he pulled out his phone.

Buck: I’ve been looking at new cars.

Lou: Oh? Did you decide on something?

Buck: Subaru Forester looked promising but I decided on the Hyundai Palisade.

Lou: Why that one?

Buck: Almost 41 inches of headroom and 44 inches of front leg room.

There was a bit of a wait before the next response came in.

Lou: LMAO. I ADORE the practicality of that choice. You’ll be driving to all our dates.

Buck: You have faith I’ll figure myself out?

Lou: Of course I do. Besides, I saw how you were looking at me, and you’ve had enough time now for a definitive no. You wouldn’t still be working on it if you weren’t interested.

Buck felt his face heat.

Buck: You’re an awful person.

Lou: I’ve learned to live with it. Send me pictures when you get the car.

He was actually getting it soon, but he figured he’d make it a surprise. He’d chosen a color called Moonlight Cloud, which was sort of a medium to dark blue. His mental acknowledgment of the conversation with Lou about blue stars.

Buck: K. You finally finish chasing your hunch or you still at work?

Lou: Case of my colleague’s is niggling at me. Shouldn’t even be looking at it per department policy, but it’s hit me like a thorn in my paw.

Buck: It’s good to chase those bad feelings right?

Lou: As a cop, yeah, I suppose so. Even if it’s sometimes against the rules.

Buck: I’ll let you chase your feelings then.

Lou: LOL came out all wrong, Buckley. Enjoy your evening. What are you up to, anyway?

Buck: Figuring out how to be the center of my universe.

Lou: Good for you. Getting a car based on those long legs of yours is a damn good start.

Buck: Thanks.

Lou: Goodnight, Evan.

Buck: Night Lou

He pocketed his phone just a few seconds before his watch alarm went off, so he headed into the restaurant, where he easily spotted his dinner companion at a corner table already waiting for him.

He smiled and waved off the hostess, crossing to the Chief Alonzo, who was getting to his feet. “Good evening, sir.” He offered his hand.

“Firefighter Buckley.” Alonzo gestured to the chair that put Buck’s back to the room, and he took a seat.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, sir. I certainly didn’t expect a dinner meeting, though.”

“When I saw I had a meeting request in the queue from you for me or one of a few select chiefs, I assumed I knew what this was about and thought we should meet privately.”

Buck raised his brows. “Oh?”

“I assumed you wanted to talk about Gerrard.”

Blinking in astonishment, it took Buck a moment to recover. “Oh, no. This has nothing to do with Gerrard.”

“Really?” Alonzo sat back in his seat and gave Buck a thoughtful look. “I know he’d been a bit of a thorn in your side, and I hoped if legal action was on your mind, I could talk to you about it first.”

Buck instantly flushed, hating how his fair skin betrayed him so easily. “Even back then, I did try to go through channels first. I went to the union.”

Alonzo made a placating motion. “I’m aware, son. I know some of my chiefs might give you a hard time, but when you turned down that rather substantial financial settlement and simply asked for your job back, I dug deeply into the matter and found you had tried to go to both the union and HR about the matter; I made sure my displeasure was known to both, and some key staffing and policy changes were made as a result. I’m fully aware the failure was on the side of the LAFD. I also made sure Nash knew my thoughts on his failures in the situation.

“As a result, several of my chiefs are on the lookout that we need to pay attention to if you should be trying to make proper overtures. The Gerrard situation… It’s deeply political—inside and outside the department—and there will be fallout as those who enabled his nonsense will try to sweep the consequences to Gerrard and themselves under the rug. I can’t say much more than that at this time. I’d assumed this was on that subject, and I wanted to set your mind at ease that I have been working on the issue from the start, but it’s not always easy getting rid of the dinosaurs with a lot of well-positioned friends. It pains me when the front-line firefighters take the brunt of the fallout from such situations.”

Buck nodded, not sure what to say. He wasn’t prepared to absolve upper management on the Gerrard situation, but he could also see that everyone’s hands were tied. Also, no one seemed to want to give Bobby any of the blame or responsibility, but Bobby is the one who full-on quit. It was pretty arrogant for Bobby to assume he could just withdraw his resignation and walk right back into the same role.

“In any case, rest assured that I am continuing to manage the Gerrard situation. Even if I have to ensure the consequences are quietly meted out, it will happen, I assure you. I find the situation infuriating.” Alonzo took a sip of his drink and gave Buck a searching look. “But if you didn’t wish to speak to me about that situation, what was the purpose of your meeting request?”

“A few years back, you’d said if I ever wanted a conversation about my career trajectory with the department…” Buck trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “I realize it was a while ago, and that’s why I said I could meet with one of several of the chiefs…”

Alonzo waved off the objections. “No, I’m pleased this is why you want to meet. It’s actually a wonderful reason in what has been a very difficult week of meetings. Let’s order, and we can discuss.”

Buck nodded and eagerly perused the menu. Alonzo had chosen a Thai restaurant, and Thai was one of Buck’s favorites, so it was no hardship to quickly pick something for his meal.

Once they ordered, Alonzo seemed to get more comfortable and said, “I’ll admit I’m surprised. As much as I’d have liked to have a career discussion with you years ago, you seemed dead set on staying with the 118. I couldn’t pull anyone out while Gerrard was in the captaincy due to some political maneuvering we had going on, but I was damn tempted to try and move you to a more appropriate position. Tell me why now?”

Buck hesitated. “I’m not even sure I will because I’m not sure what the options are. I’ve been approached in the past by LA County and the Smokejumpers, and certainly Santa Monica FD calls me every year.”

Alonzo made a face. “Those sniping little bastards.” He leaned forward and laced his hands together. “Truth be told, you should be on a full-time SAR team at a SAR Bureau, or a task force station at a minimum. I know it, most of my chiefs know it, but I’m surprised you don’t know it. Nash is weirdly oblivious for someone who has your certifications in his face.

“We’ve thought about making the 118 another SAR bureau—it’s well positioned geographically for it—but we’d need to do major construction on the station to fit at least one more apparatus in the station, and we’d need to have assurance of being able to address the personnel deficiencies before committing to the expense. Not that having another SAR bureau in the West wouldn’t be ideal, but we’re doing fine with having sufficient backup stations.”

Buck frowned. “Personnel deficiencies?”

“Bluntly? Nash is too soft for a SAR bureau, in my opinion. He runs his crew like a family, which is fine for a light brigade or even a task force if it’s efficient, but SAR bureaus have to run like a machine. It’s good for the teams to get along, but it’s military precision out in the field. Also, he’s fought a little too hard not to deal with Han’s issues, which is a clear indication of the type of deficiencies in his house.”

“Oh?”

“In my tenure, there have been almost as many complaints about Howard Han as there were about Captain Gerrard—though for very different reasons—and Nash seems intent on not dealing with them. HR seems to be fine with more rug sweeping when it comes to Han due to past issues with Gerrard. But I can’t have a SAR team operating under those circumstances. If we converted the 118, Han would be out for sure, and Nash would have to make some hard choices about his own future.”

Buck frowned at his beer, the only drink he planned to have for the night. “I’m not sure where that leaves me.”

“In an ideal world, I’d transfer you to a SAR bureau in a minute. Possibly have you do a rotation at the academy so you can meet all the teams. Full-time Academy instructors do four days a week and alternate Saturdays, and the SAR specialists rotate in on the days when their specialty is needed to work with and assess recruits. It would give you a chance to meet most of the teams, or at least, significant portions of them. Get a feel for where you might fit in well. We almost always have openings for well-qualified people in SAR.”

“I thought SAR had a lengthy wait list.”

“For people who aren’t already fully certified, yes. Just like there’s a wait list for our paramedic program, unless you’re already a fully certified paramedic. You’re the only person in the LAFD with SARTECH II and III who isn’t in a SAR bureau. It’s a bit baffling that you’d put that much time into training, do the mastery certifications, keep up the ongoing training, and yet not work in the field.”

“I just want to be ready for any eventuality.” Buck winced. “I thought I was going into a SAR bureau when I left the academy, but then suddenly I was going to the 118. I never even met Nash ahead of time. The captain who interviewed me for the 56 was suddenly out of the picture.”

Alonzo frowned deeply.

“Everything worked out, so I never questioned it. I liked it at the 118, so there wasn’t any reason to change.”

Alonzo frowned. “I’ll have to dig into that a bit, I think, but I’ll do it quietly. In the meantime, is this something you’re serious about, or are you just exploring your options?”

“Is there an answer that’s between the two? I’m sorry not to give a firm answer, but it feels right to me to make a change. However, after the time recently under Gerrard, I know how important it is to me to work with people that I like and respect. I’m not saying I need the family vibe Bobby has, but I can’t work with that open hostility and borderline hatred Gerrard was bringing to the table. I can’t have someone in my face screaming at me that I’m a waste of air and a failure. And certainly there was a lot of hostility my direction from a lot of people after the lawsuit, so I don’t know which stations are a good bet for me.”

Alonzo nodded thoughtfully. “I can honestly say I don’t think any of my SAR guys would hold any of that lawsuit business against you. If anyone pulled on them what Nash did to you, they’d be shoving a lawyer in my face personally.” Alonzo pointed a finger at him. “Pick a better lawyer if there’s ever a reason next time, however.”

Buck couldn’t help the grin he was trying to fight back. “I hope there’s never a cause, but I promise not to pick an ambulance chaser.”

Alonzo laughed. “Fair enough. Better yet, just call me personally and tell me off. In any case, if you decide to at least give my idea a shot, I’ll be sure to be totally forthright with my SAR captains about all the facts of your situation so they know everything up front. Then, if any of them make you uncomfortable, don’t work with them. And here’s my suggestion: if you’re willing to pick up some extra half shifts on your light weeks, I’ll have my admin send you the stations that need a sub. You can sign up for the extra shift without going through Nash. We’ll rotate you through the SAR teams and see how you feel about them.”

Alonzo pulled a card from his pocket and wrote something on it. “Preston Sutton is the chief responsible for all SAR staffing. Text or call him tomorrow; I’ll have briefed him on our conversation by nine AM. He’s been dying to have you on his roster, so he’ll work out whatever team rotation works for you. The two of you can hammer out whatever nitty-gritty details seem fitting.

“If you were willing to make a clean break from the 118 now, I’d absolutely send you to the Academy for a session as an instructor, but this is a slow, steady way to get familiar with all the teams.”

Buck nodded. “This is very understanding of you, sir. I appreciate it. I wasn’t sure what my options were.”

“Certainly, SAR is an easy path to set you on, son, considering your existing training. If leadership is the path you want to go down, we’d still need to get you out of the 118. I’m afraid the family environment there hasn’t done you any favors in that regard. Nash does a good job of making great firefighters, but it’s been hit or miss how his people have performed in the field as leaders without him present.”

Buck fiddled with the card, turning it over and over in his hand. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I thought I did, but then I wondered if it was more that I was overlooked than an interest in pursuing the management path.”

Alonzo nodded, looking understanding. “Why do you think you’re overlooked?”

“I think I’m generally regarded as too impulsive.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe. Though often not about the things they challenge me on. To be fair, one time Bobby challenged me about being impulsive, it was actually something else entirely; I probably shouldn’t have been working at all, but we were all messed up, and not working wasn’t an option. In any case, I’d say ninety percent of the time when I’m called impulsive, it’s in a rescue situation where I’ve just assessed the scene faster and not had the time to explain it.

“I’m told I’m not taking my safety seriously, but it’s hard to explain sometimes that Hen or Chimney or even Bobby, despite having a lot more firefighting experience, don’t always see a rescue the same way I do.”

“And what about Diaz?”

“When it comes to rescues, within a few weeks, Eddie was almost always making the same assessment I was. The accusations of impulsivity dropped once Eddie joined, I think because they assumed I was following Eddie’s lead, and they assumed Eddie had more experience or something.”

“Diaz, who was fresh out of the academy with no SAR experience at all?”

“He’d been in the Army, and he was a combat medic.”

“Which has nothing to do with Search and Rescue.” Alonzo pinched the bridge of his nose. “So that was just some sort of confirmation bias on their parts. What’d Diaz think?”

“How would he know anything had changed? He has a good head for SAR and trusted my assessments, and he very quickly learned how to assess a rescue after a few weeks of field work. The others don’t have the same knack for it. Jones is good at SAR. So is Lieutenant Calley, but I don’t ride with them often.”

Alonzo nodded. “Tell me about the time it wasn’t you being impulsive.”

Buck’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “When Eddie was shot and I scaled the crane.”

Alonzo held up a hand. “Never mind. I’m fully aware of the situation. I agree. It wasn’t impulsivity, and you’re also correct that you, in particular, should not have been on shift.” Alonzo rubbed his hand over his face. “Still, it was incredibly brave even if it was self-destructive.”

“I just couldn’t bear for someone else to get hurt.”

“Letting yourself get hurt so you don’t have to deal with someone else you love being hurt is never a solution. Everything was in a shambles during that incident. I wish I’d been able to give your station more personal time.”

Buck shook his head. “That you called me at all meant a lot, sir. I know Eddie appreciated hearing from you.”

Alonzo nodded, then tapped the card. “Think about it. If SAR is something you want to try out, call Chief Sutton. Even if he’s surly sounding, he’ll be delighted to hear from you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I would like to talk at some point a little more in-depth about Gerrard and what happened while he was captain, but I’d prefer to wait until it can be in my office. Meaning, it would be official. But official meeting or not, Firefighter Buckley, my door remains open to you. Whether it’s to discuss things that have gone wrong or just another career chat.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Truly.” He hesitated for a second, then asked, “I don’t suppose you know anyone who staffs the civil engineering interns for the city…?”

Alonzo looked surprised. “I do actually. Intern season is heating up. Why?”

“I met someone from UCLA who works hard, has a good head on her shoulders, and is looking to get into the city, but it’s brutal, I guess.”

“You have no idea.” Alonzo gave him a look. “You’re not dating her, are you?”

“What? No! Sir, she looks like she’s twelve.”

Alonzo laughed. “Email me her info. I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Four

Buck had intended to head home, but he made an impulsive decision to head over to see Maddie. Chim should still be at the team dinner, so it would be a good time to have a private chat with his sister. If his day went according to plan tomorrow, he’d have a new SUV even though he hadn’t told anyone he was picking up the Palisade tomorrow afternoon.

His first thought was to keep the Jeep, but he thought maybe it was time to part ways with it. To really say goodbye to that part of his life.

Part of that goodbye probably needed to be a conversation with his sister, even if she didn’t really get why they needed to talk about the Jeep. It had been in his name for years, so she didn’t have a say in what he did with it, but he thought maybe the conversation would be good for them, even if she’d never had the nostalgic connection to it that he did.

It was easily twenty-five minutes from the restaurant to Maddie’s place, so on the off chance that he could divest himself of one of his other to-do items, he put in his headset and selected a number from his contacts that he’d taken off his favorites a while ago.

He’d already had several conversations with his therapist about Tommy, and he didn’t think there was any mental health crisis looming from a phone call.

“Evan?” Tommy answered on the third ring. “Is everything okay?”

“As it can be, and Buck is fine. It’s what my friends call me. I guess you can call me Buckley if you’re not feeling friendly.”

There was a long pause, then a deeply indrawn breath. “Okay, Buck. What’s going on?”

“I assume you know Eddie’s moving to Texas?”

“He mentioned he was considering it. I’m not surprised Eddie wants to move if Christopher is still there and not wanting to come back.”

“That’s about the situation.”

“Are you going to Texas too?”

“What?” Buck asked, utterly flummoxed. “No.”

The thing was, it was probably a fair question. There probably was a time when Buck would have packed up his life and gone with Eddie if only Eddie had asked. And that said a lot. What that said about Buck and how he prioritized Eddie was a major topic of conversation in therapy lately. While the question might be fair, it still hit him like a brick to the head.

“Anyway, Eddie’s not the best communicator when he’s in a frenzy, and he’s been more frenzied than usual lately, so if you want a goodbye moment, you should take the initiative to reach out to him or pin him down and make him have lunch or something.”

“Okaaay,” Tommy drew out slowly. “So, you’re calling to look out for my friendship with Eddie?”

“Of course not. It’s just a less awkward segue.”

“Less awkward than what?”

“Someone posited a while back that I might still be a little hung up on you and said I should put some thought into that. So I did. In fact, I thought about it a lot. There were definitely things I was holding on to, and it took me some time to parse it all out. In some ways, I was holding on to the idea of us and my hopes for where we would someday be together.

“That was hard to let go of, and maybe I couldn’t let go until I acknowledged how much it hurt to lose the idea of what we had. The loss of intimacy and feeling understood and known by another person. It was hard to have that and lose it. Then I realized I never had it at all, and it became a lot easier to let go.”

“You had it,” Tommy whispered.

“No,” Buck corrected, not upset, just stating the facts as he saw them. “The way you broke up with me, the way you were so sure I’d break your heart, the way you refused to talk to me, the nonsense that came out of your mouth as you left, told me that you never knew me and certainly didn’t understand me. And that’s weirdly the most crushing thing about it all. I always wanted that connection with another person more than anything—I thought I had it with you—and I just can’t figure out why you were lying to me.”

“I never lied to you about anything, but you were just finding your way in the queer world—”

“Oh god, not this biphobic trash again. I may literally listen to the Red Hot Chili Peppers at full volume for the rest of the night if you start up again with how I couldn’t possibly love you since I hadn’t ridden enough other dicks yet.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You need to rewind and think about the things that came out of your mouth.”

“You had me on a pedestal!”

“Of course I did! I loved you.”

“No, because I was gay.”

Buck frowned in confusion at the passing roadway. “You thought I had you on a pedestal because you’re gay? That’s…. Wait, what? You know, you’re not the first gay person I’ve ever been close to. If being gay is the criteria for lofty heights, I knew Josh first, so he must be oxygen-deprived. Did you smoke something? I know it’s legal in California, but it’s actually forbidden in our employment contract.”

“No! I didn’t smoke any marijuana,” Tommy said, laughing. “Why did you have me on a pedestal then?”

“Because you figured yourself out with no regrets and no looking back! Because you like Love Actually and have the balls to admit it out loud to other human beings. Because there’s no shame in your game when you say John Mayer is the best blues guitarist to have ever lived.”

“Hey now!”

“Honestly, that’s an indefensible position, and you really should stop repeating it.”

“Ev— Buck. Come on.”

“You said I’d break your heart, and you walked out the door without giving me a chance to say a word, never mind that you were breaking mine in the process.”

“That wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I know,” Buck said softly. “I know you well enough to know you’re not deliberately cruel, Tommy, but you’re also not particularly empathetic either.”

“I’m not un-empathetic.”

“No, you were good with me…when we were together. And you’re good with your friends. So, it occurred to me that it was telling how much of an ass you were about the way you broke up with me, which speaks to how ready you were for that breakup when you stepped in my door. You had already emotionally excised me from your life before I ever bumbled my way through that move-in-with-me speech.” Buck blew out a breath. “I didn’t deserve that. I guess I needed to say it so I can let go and move the fuck on. Because of all the failures I’ve had, you were the one who really hurt.

“I try not to be bitter, but I can see how it’d be easy to let bitterness start to fester over what happened with us. Anyway, I want you to know I never asked anyone to keep their distance from you or to choose between us or any of that nonsense. I still wouldn’t.”

“No, I never figured you would,” Tommy said softly.

“You should say goodbye to Eddie while you can, though. It’s my hope he’ll keep in touch with all of us here, but he’s not great about the small stuff like emails and phone calls, so…my advice is to get it in while you can.”

“Buck…”

“I think I’ve said what I needed to say, Tommy.”

“If we need to talk things out, we should. It does feel like there were misunderstandings.”

Buck considered for a moment how to say what was on his mind without being an ass. “Misunderstanding implies crossed wires or not understanding the information at hand. Lack of understanding isn’t the same thing. I didn’t understand what was going on with you then, and I still don’t. That’s a lack of understanding because you chose not to communicate. You withheld vital information that I desperately needed, and you did it on purpose.”

“Would it help to understand?”

“At one point, yes, it would have. But that was so I could know everything I did wrong and not do it again. Or find some way to blame myself. Or, hell, beg you to come back. At this point, understanding isn’t going to change anything. You had your reasons for running full tilt away from me. Maybe I fucked up in colossal ways you chose not to share with me, or maybe it had nothing to do with me. Either way, those answers change nothing for me today, so I think I’m going to consider it personal growth not to have the answers to all of life’s questions and just move on.”

“So you really just called to tell me you don’t want to know why I broke up with you?” Tommy laughed, sounding a little incredulous.

“It sounds weird, but I knew I’d know for sure if there was any truth to me still being hung up on you if I heard your voice. And I can run around in mental circles for hours and have lists justifying both the pro and con position of any argument, but I knew your voice would provide the definitive answer.”

“I see. I can’t help but think there are things for us to talk about, but I understand where you’re coming from.”

Buck cleared his throat. “Thanks for taking my call. Goodnight, Tommy.” He pressed the button to hang up the phone, knowing he was done with that chapter of his life.

Now, he just had to deal with the more complicated question of his best friend.

~*~

Buck’s mind was still on the conversation with Tommy, half wanting to discuss it with Maddie, half wanting to never discuss it with anyone, when he arrived at her place.

He went to use his key to let himself into her house, noting how dark everything was and not wanting to wake up her or Jee if she was sleeping, but the front door was unlocked. Chim’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and he would probably still be at Eddie’s going-away dinner for at least another hour or two. The 118 going-away dinners were legendary for being long.

Maybe Maddie had left the door unlocked for Chim? Was that something they did? If it was, he was having words with her because that was hella unsafe in LA. He moved through the dim house as silently as possible, trying to figure out where his sister was. He heard something from the kitchen. Then he was reacting to what he saw in the kitchen before his brain could even process it.

His sister was sprawled out on the kitchen floor with a masked person crouched over her, pressing a rag to Maddie’s face. The person was whispering something to Maddie.

He tackled the person off his sister, punching them hard in the side of the head.

The fight back was quick and intense, and more than he expected considering how much smaller than him the intruder was. He got kicked away, but he didn’t let himself stay down long, going right back after the woman—and he was damn sure now it was a woman—taking her out at the knees, her forehead thunking off the counter edge.

Then there was a bang, and Buck felt like he was punched hard in the gut. Then she shoved him off her.

He skidded across the floor on his back, feeling winded and disoriented. Then she was in his face, perched over him with a gun pressed to his forehead. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved. You don’t know what you’ve done! I was just supposed to take her!”

“Put the gun down, Detective Braeburn.” Lou’s voice was deadly as his gun came into view inches from the dark-haired woman’s head.

“No!” she hissed. “I have to do this!”

“All you have to do is put the gun down.”

“He attacked me! I was defending myself.”

“You’re going to have a hard time making that stick when you’re in his sister’s home, and you’re the one in the dominant position with the gun to his head, not to mention you’re dressed like a burglar. Put it down. If there’s an innocent explanation, you’ll have the opportunity to give your side of things.”

“No! I have to do this!”

She started to swing the gun towards Lou, and then there was blood everywhere, including on Buck’s face. His mind flashed to Eddie, to the street and blood spray. Except this time, there was screaming. So much screaming. It weirdly kept him grounded in the present.

The weight of her body was off him, and the screaming kept going, but Buck just tried to roll away, to move towards Maddie, but his stomach hurt so bad.

“Just wait, Evan,” Lou said firmly. “Give me a second. Backup is coming.”

“Screaming,” Buck said.

“I know. My sidearm is a .45 and took off a good chunk of her arm, but injuries aside, I still have to cuff her, so she’s screaming her head off because I cuffed her, and now I’m applying a tourniquet. Just give me a second, okay? My phone has been recording since before I entered the house.”

Buck kept trying to get to Maddie, but every movement was like fire.

“Don’t move!”

“She punched me.”

“She shot you. You’re bleeding badly. Please, just let me secure her, and I’ll be right there. Put pressure on your abdomen and stop moving.”

Buck kept trying to get to his sister.

Then Lou was hovering over him, pushing him onto his back and shoving a kitchen towel into his abdomen, causing Buck to grunt in pain.

“Evan! Please be still.”

“My sister.”

“Unconscious but breathing. Wound to her head, minor bleeding. I need you to stop moving.” Lou shoved another rolled-up towel underneath Buck, creating a little knot of agonizing pressure under his back, then he pressed down even harder.

“Lou…”

“In terms of the CAB of first aid, no one needs chest compressions, no one’s airway is compromised, and everyone is breathing. So what’s after CAB, Firefighter Buckley?”

“D. Deadly bleeding,” Buck recited.

“Right. Braeburn has a tourniquet on her arm, and I will happily sit here and apply pressure to your abdomen until rescue arrives if you’ll just. Stop. Moving.” Lou got right in his face, whispering so lowly that Buck could barely hear it, “Baby, please be still.”

Buck stilled, choking back a sob. “I don’t understand what happened.”

Lou smoothed back his hair. “I don’t know everything. There are so many pieces to put together. I’m going to move my phone closer. Can you give a preliminary accounting of what happened so I can try to figure this out?”

Fighting back tears, Buck nodded his head.

Lou’s pressure on his stomach was relentless as he used his free hand to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“This is Lieutenant Detective Louis Ransone with Evan Buckley of the LAFD. I’m taking a recorded statement. Mr. Buckley, can you tell me what transpired here tonight?”

“I came to see my sister to talk about buying a new car.” Buck squeezed his eyes shut. “I knew she was home alone with her daughter. Oh god, Jee. Where’s Jee?”

“She hasn’t come out of her room. As soon as other rescue workers are here, I’ll look for her.”

“Please look.”

“I can’t remove pressure on your abdomen right now. I promise she’s my priority as soon as someone else is here. Tell me what happened.”

Buck looked around as if… “Jee! She’s right there, hiding behind the kitchen island. It’s okay, baby. Mommy is okay. Will you go hold her hand?”

Jee had tears streaming down her face, but Buck thought Braeburn was cuffed out of sight in the other direction. Lou had dragged her a bit away.

Jee ran over to Maddie.

“Just hold her hand, okay? It’ll be okay.”

Lou smiled at her. “It’s okay, honey. More police are on their way, and I handcuffed the bad lady.”

Jee stared at Lou. “You’re a police officer?”

“I am. I’m a detective, which is why I don’t wear a uniform. I’m a good friend of Athena’s.”

“Okay.” She smiled at Lou. “Can I sit with Uncle Buck too?”

“He’s got a wound that’s bleeding a bit, so why don’t you sit over there with your mommy, okay? That way we don’t get anything on your pretty nightdress.”

“I can do that.”

“Keep going,” Lou softly encouraged Buck.

“Maddie’s husband is out to dinner. I have a key, but the door was unlocked, which was weird. I thought maybe she was leaving it unlocked for him for some reason, but I was going to chew her out for leaving her door unlocked in LA.” He tried to smile reassuringly at Jee, who was watching them intently while holding Maddie’s hand with both of her little ones.

“I was trying to be quiet because the house was dark, and the door being locked seemed so weird. Then I got to the kitchen. I was tackling the woman off my sister before I’d fully processed what I’d seen.”

Buck took a shuddery breath, fighting through the pain. “Maddie was on the floor, not moving. This masked figure was over her. The figure was slender, smallish. She was pressing something to Maddie’s mouth.”

He grunted in pain when Lou’s hand shifted, and he took a few gasps of air. “I thought the fight would be quick because the person was so small, but she fought hard. I don’t remember all of it, but there was this bang, and she punched me hard in the gut; I went sprawling across the floor. Then she was there, crouched over me with her, um, firearm in my face, rambling about how she had to do this.

“I don’t even know who she is or what she has to do. It makes no sense.”

“Okay, okay. I got it. I’m going to turn the recording off now.” The phone shifted to Lou’s pocket. “You hear the sirens?”

Buck nodded. “I hear police and firefighter.”

“You can tell the difference?” Jee asked, perking up a little.

“Yeah,” Buck replied. “I’ll teach you how to tell them apart; I promise.”

Jee nodded.

“I already called all-clear for firefighters to enter. We’re in the 118’s area here.”

“I know. C-shift is on.” Buck took a trembling breath. “Lou, just call Chim for Maddie and Jee. They don’t need to know about me.”

“Stop. That’s crazy talk. Your blood is all over their kitchen. This is going to be a crime scene for days. We can’t just stash you in an out-of-the-way corner of the ER and pretend like you weren’t here so that you don’t draw attention. I’m going to call your friends and family, and someone is going to come sit with you until I can get away from answering questions to come be with you myself.”

Buck nodded, not having the energy to try to direct what would happen next.

“Now, who do you want me to call to specifically be there for you?”

At one point, it would have been Eddie, and he had no doubt Eddie would eventually be wherever everyone was, but he didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to lean on Eddie right now. “Athena.”

“Done,” Lou promised, then pressed a kiss to Buck’s forehead just moments before police and firefighters swarmed the area. Buck noted that as soon as someone took over for him, Lou was wiping the blood off his hands and crossing to Jee, talking softly to her.

Then Ravi was in his face, putting pressure on his abdomen. “Hey, Buck.”

“Did I get confused about what day it is?”

Ravi smiled gently. “I picked up a half shift as a favor.”

“Oh.”

“You doing okay?”

Buck started to reply in the affirmative, but then shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess not, but I’m with you the whole way, all right? You’ve got me all the way to the hospital.”

Buck nodded. “Thanks, Rav. Make sure someone is looking out for Jee?”

“Of course.”

~*~

Buck was actually the third to go to the hospital. They took psycho cop first because she was at actual risk of bleeding out, but there was a second ambulance from the 118 already there, and Maddie went in that one. Buck was able to direct it to the hospital where she was receiving prenatal care, and she was second priority since she was still unconscious and also pregnant. They took Jee with her and one of the officers with prior CPS experience went along with them until Chim could arrive at the hospital.

The third ambulance for Buck was only about a minute behind the first two, and by the time it arrived, Athena had arrived as well, not even pausing before climbing up in the ambulance with him, sitting by the head of the gurney, and taking his hand.

“Hey there, kiddo.”

“Thena.”

“I hear you saved your sister tonight.”

“Not sure anyone can know that.”

“Pretty sure we can.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. Ravi had already cleaned the blood spray off his face with saline wipes. “You did good.”

“I got shot.”

“Yeah.” She looked at the paramedics from the 133 who had to deal with Ravi and Athena as ride-alongs. “How is he?”

“Through and through, which is why so much blood loss. The exit wound is significant. His vitals are decent considering the circumstances, though he’s definitely shocky.”

“Are you taking him to the same hospital as his sister?”

She shook her head, then held up her hands in surrender at Athena’s glare. “Mrs. Han’s hospital is not rated for this type of trauma. It is exceptional for obstetrics and even general health issues, but not trauma surgery. Once the decision was made to take her there for continuity of care related to her pregnancy, Mr. Buckley had to be transported elsewhere. The hospital where he stated his medical records are at is closed to more trauma cases due to that huge accident on the freeway.”

“‘S okay, Thena.”

“Just rest, kiddo.”

“Don’t interrupt dinner,” Buck slurred out, feeling like everything was getting wavery around the edges.

She snorted. “Darling little idiot. I already interrupted their dinner. Just rest and get better.”

“Everything was getting better, Thena. I don’t understand why this had to happen now.”

“What everything?”

“Just everything.”

“I don’t understand.” She stroked his head, and it was nice.

“I know.” He pressed into the relaxing rhythm of her hand in his hair, feeling so tired. “I had to figure out the Eddie thing, but I was close.” He had to concentrate hard on making words. “It was like things were finally lining up for me. And he asked me to pick my greatest achievement next, Athena. How do I answer that?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I know.”

“Evan Nathaniel Buckley, I need you to start making sense.” Her tone snapped his drifty brain back into focus.

“Why do so many of my achievements feel like they’re shrouded in failure?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I got my SARTECH, and then Prudy died. I broke records re-certifying after having my leg crushed, and then threw up blood all over Bobby’s patio. I directly pulled thirty-four people out of the tsunami surges as a civilian, while on blood thinners, but then I lost Christopher. I saved Eddie from a sniper, but I still managed to disappoint everyone.

“Not that I really think of that as an achievement, but someone had to point out to me that I wasn’t supposed to do what I did, which is weird to me, because what else was I supposed to do? I succeed, but I fail. Isn’t it weird how that works?”

“Darling boy, I’m so confused here… You are not a failure. Not ever.”

“Oh, Athena, I wish you wouldn’t lie too.” Buck felt a rising surge of nausea, and the disoriented feeling was back with a vengeance. “I don’t feel very good.”

Ravi was the one who got the emesis bag there in time for Buck to lose all of his dinner, and then the pain was too much, and he didn’t remember anything else.

~*~

It was a couple of hours before Lou could get to Angels Memorial, where they’d taken Evan and Braeburn, because it was the best trauma center in the area, and Mercy was closed. Traffic would be hellish getting there anyway due to some cluster on the 101. He’d had some long questions to answer about why he’d been keeping tabs on and investigating Braeburn.

His hunch about her had been nebulous at best. Just something not right about her closure rate, but also about the cases that didn’t close. He’d been looking into her old cases on his own time, not pulling from his current case load, and then he’d noticed her LAPD-issued sedan was stationary at the same location for a long period of time. The location of the home address of a witness in a recent case, Maddie Han.

It struck him as strange enough that he’d decided to head that direction to get eyes on the situation. Then he’d seen Evan’s Jeep on the street and, moments later, there’d been a gunshot.

Finding her crouched over Evan, who’d looked like he was bleeding out on the floor, with her firearm pressed to his head, was one of the worst moments Lou could remember in his life.

Now that he’d answered the preliminary questions and turned over all his investigative notes, he was on administrative leave until the investigation was complete. He’d even sent in his recording of Evan’s statement in the heat of the moment, which his boss had applauded Lou for having the presence of mind to obtain.

Between trying to wrestle Braeburn into cuffs and then treating Evan, he’d been covered in blood, so he’d had to change into the only clothes available, which were jeans and a T-shirt with an LAPD windbreaker overtop.

The surgical waiting room was filled with Evan’s friends and coworkers, including a couple in LAFD uniforms. Oddly, Chief Alonzo himself was sitting next to Nash in the corner. Diaz was pacing a hole in the linoleum, shaking off anyone who tried to talk to him.

Athena was on her feet immediately, rushing to his side. “Lou, do we know anything? What happened?”

“There’s not a lot I can say. I’m on administrative leave since I discharged my firearm.”

“How did you know to be there?” she asked urgently.

Lou pulled her further from the others and whispered, “I’ve been doing a review of Braeburn’s cases because something didn’t sit right with me, and that’s about all I can say about the suspicions that had me at the Han house tonight.”

“Whatever the reason, you saved them, so that’s all that matters to me.”

“I don’t know about that.” Lou went over the scene in his mind. “Buck had already gotten Braeburn away from Mrs. Han. Though he was at a serious disadvantage when I arrived.” He winced thinking about it.

Athena gave him a searching look, but didn’t say anything. “Do you know anything about Braeburn?”

“The case or her physical condition?”

“Either, though you already said you can’t say much about the case.”

“I can say they’ve already invited in the FBI.”

Athena’s eyebrows shot up. “Really. Invited in…? That’s telling language.”

“BAU.”

Athena bent over and braced her hands on her knees. “Oh sweet lord.”

Lou decided to change the subject. “She’s going to lose the arm, but she’ll survive. Beyond that, I don’t know anything, and it’s unlikely I’ll be much involved in the case after today.”

Straightening up, Athena put on her game face. “They’d be fools not to involve you, considering you’re the only person who caught on to whatever this is.”

“We’ll see what happens. As long as they actually solve the case and don’t sweep anything under the rug, I don’t care if I’m involved or not.”

“I hear you.” She sighed and looked out over the waiting room. “It’s hard for us not to be together at one hospital, but we already got the word Maddie is okay.” She gave him a quick look. “I assume you’d already heard?”

“We had updates on everyone’s condition. I knew before I arrived that Buckley was still in surgery. Though I’m not sure what happened with Mrs. Han’s little girl…?”

She nodded. “Bobby was torn about being here or with Chim, but Maddie was already awake by the time anyone even arrived. Hen is with Chim and Maddie, and Jee-Yun is already with Hen’s wife for the night. Jee is okay. They determined that she saw nothing, and it was the second gunshot that woke her up, not the first.”

“That’s good news.”

“You’re still carrying that .45 cannon?”

Lou shrugged. “The Glock 21 fits my hand.”

“And it could wake the dead.” Athena sighed. “The doctors expect Maddie to be discharged by morning; they’re only keeping her overnight due to the exposure to chloroform and possible other drugs—they’re still waiting for the lab work. And then she has a mild concussion. They want to be sure the baby is okay after a few hours of close monitoring. We’re not even sure why they took her to that hospital because Maddie wasn’t awake to request it.”

“Buckley said she’d received her prenatal care there, and her medical records were at that hospital. With her OBGYN on staff, they agreed it was best to take her there for continuity of care, but the two gunshot injuries had to go to trauma centers.”

“Right.” Athena rubbed her forehead. “Of course Buck would be thinking of Maddie getting the best care.”

“Family of Buckley?” A doctor in scrubs came through the EMPLOYEES ONLY door with a keycard access pad.

Everyone in the room jolted to their feet.

The doctor looked startled, then down at his paperwork. “I have Athena Grant as next of kin…?”

Lou knew Athena well enough to know she was surprised, but most wouldn’t spot the tell. Diaz was openly shocked.

Athena stepped up and said, “I’m Grant.”

The doctor blinked.

Athena crossed her arms. “Don’t even question how that White boy is my son. Just roll with it. And you can speak openly in front of everyone here.”

“Right. I’m Dr. Willis. I’m normally in the ER, but Dr. Campbell is handling the other trauma surgery, and I’m also a board-certified trauma surgeon, so I drew your son’s splenic artery repair.”

“Splenic artery?” Diaz repeated weakly.

“Nicked. To be honest, it may not seem like it, but it’s a million-to-one gunshot wound. For the size of the exit wound and the amount of blood lost, there was remarkably little damage. If there hadn’t been the unfortunate nicking of the artery, and it was barely tagged, it would just have been a really uncomfortable through-and-through.

“Mind you, I’m not taking any gunshot wound lightly, but I spent a lot of time looking for damage that wasn’t there because I expected to find it. He got remarkably lucky with the trajectory, which went straight through. If it had bounced off a rib, considering the caliber of the round, it could have shredded his spleen or lung.

“As it stands, provided there are no complications from the shock or the units we transfused, he’ll be going home in a day or two. If he weren’t a firefighter, he’d be back at work in a couple of weeks, provided he was careful with his movement. But it will take six to eight weeks, considering the nature of his job and the amount of rehab he’ll have to do.”

“Doctor,” Chief Alonzo chimed in, “if he had a less physically demanding position for a time, such as a class instructor, would that be reasonable work to return to in the near term?”

Willis nodded. “Of course. I’d leave the timing up to his general practitioner, but as long as he’s not bending, lifting, or carrying, he should be good for light duty. Those abdominal muscles are going to need time to heal. And he’s going to need a good ten days to two weeks to recover from the surgery and blood loss before he’ll be ready to be on his feet all day.”

“When can we see him?” Diaz asked immediately.

“He’s in recovery now, but he’s shaking off the anesthesia pretty fast. Give us a bit to get him settled. He’ll be in the surgical ICU overnight and in a regular room sometime in the morning, provided things go as predicted. SICU is pretty relaxed compared to the other ICU units—two visitors at a time, but technically visiting hours end at eight. I realize we’re already past that, so we’ll move you in one at a time to see him. Also, typically the charge nurse has discretion to allow an overnight visitor if there’s anyone who helps the patient remain calm and rest.

“Don’t take it personally if they tell you to go; they know how to assess their patients, and they’re going to do what they see is best, not what you think is best. So don’t think anyone is going to be able to override them. Got it? Great.”

With that, Dr. Willis was gone.

Nash got to his feet, looking shaky. “I’m going to go call Hen and give her an update.”

“You can use your phone here,” a nurse said, entering from the hallway. She was easily sixty if she was a day, and Lou had seen her on more than one visit to this hospital. “There’s no cellphone restriction unless it bothers others, and from what I can see, everyone is here for Buckley, right?”

When she got a bunch of nods, she cheerily said, “Wonderful. I’m Roseanna Keen. Let’s get the visiting order. Who are mom and dad?”

Athena pointed to her and Nash.

Roseanna nodded. “Normally, we do one at a time after visiting hours, but I’ll take you two together. You going first?”

Athena shook her head and pointed to Eddie. “Take the work husband first so he can stop freaking out.”

“Right. Name?”

“Uh. Diaz. Eddie Diaz.”

She went around and got everyone’s names if they wanted to go in and see Buck, and then stopped by Lou. “And you tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Detective Lou Ransone, but um… I’m sure I’ll be going in last if at all.”

Athena patted him on the arm. “You should go in.”

“Got it. The last visit is Detective Dreamy. Y’all get some coffee or something and then head on down to the waiting room closer to the surgical ICU. One floor down, and follow the signs. We’ll have him in a room and ready for visitors in about an hour. We’ll call Sergeant Grant if anything comes up, but no one will be coming to this waiting room again.” Then she disappeared down the hallway.

As soon as they were all alone, Eddie asked, “When did Buck change his medical proxy?”

“Probably as soon as you announced you were moving,” Athena said gently. “He’s always been very proactive about that sort of thing since the first time it was necessary and things…didn’t go well.”

Lou had no idea what that meant, but he made a mental note to ask Evan.

“He didn’t say.” Eddie seemed lost. “Should I call Tommy?” Eddie asked out of nowhere.

“Tommy?” Athena asked, stunned. “Why in the world would you call Kinard right now?”

“Just…Tommy texted me earlier to arrange a pickup game before I left—say goodbye and whatever. He mentioned talking to Buck tonight. I thought that was weird. So I asked about it.”

“Is this when you got to texting for like twenty minutes during dinner?” Nash asked.

“Yeah, I just couldn’t figure out why Buck would be texting Tommy all of a sudden. Tommy said the conversation was weird, that someone had suggested Buck might not be over Tommy, and Buck had been putting a lot of thought into it. Tommy said he was more confused by the conversation than not.

“Tommy said he offered to meet to clear up the misunderstandings from their breakup conversation, and he said Buck replied something lack a lack of understanding is not the same thing as a misunderstanding, and that Tommy had never tried to communicate so there couldn’t be a misunderstanding, and then he’d just said goodbye or something.

“None of that makes sense to me because Tommy always communicated with Buck really well.”

“Did he?” Athena said, arms crossed. “And I agree with Buck that lack of understanding is not the same thing as a misunderstanding. And it sounds like Buck got exactly what he needed out of that call. And, no, you shouldn’t call Tommy.”

“I don’t get why not.”

“Men,” Athena muttered under her breath. “Buck is not hung up on Tommy. He was probably testing it by making the phone call. The fact that he left Tommy more dazed and confused than anything speaks to Buck’s lack of desire to be spiteful. Because I may appreciate Kinard, but the way he broke up with Buck sucked ass.”

“Athena!” Nash looked shocked.

“I’ll speak however I like about my kid’s broken heart, Robert. I gained ten pounds in broken heart muffins that I had to run off. Tommy’s fine in most respects, but he needs to work on himself and how he deals with ending a relationship.” She waved a hand. “In any case, I’m glad Buck’s not hung up on him.”

Diaz looked bewildered. “I always figured they’d get back together.”

Athena gave him the look you reserve for your most special children. “Really?”

“They really meshed well.”

“Uh-huh.” She shook her head. “I’m going to go get shitty coffee and then make my way to the other waiting room. Bobby, call Hen. I’ll get you some tea and meet you downstairs.”

One of the firefighters in uniform sidled up to Lou. “Detective Ransone? I’m Ravi Panikkar. Is there anything you can tell us about the case?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. Since I shot the suspect, I’m on administrative leave and effectively off the case for now. I was delayed this long giving my statement. You did good work on scene, Firefighter. I could tell Buckley was at ease having you there.”

Panikkar looked a little abashed but also pleased. “Just my job, but Buck’s a friend. You did a good job keeping pressure on his wound. He seemed comfortable with you. You know him?”

“Oh, I arrested him once or twice.” It was really a detainment, but people rarely appreciated the distinction, and he was pretty sure Evan found it more amusing to be referred to as being arrested by Lou.

Panikkar gave a bark of laughter and then clapped his hand over his mouth. “I shouldn’t laugh at that.”

“I’m not sure why not. I’m absolutely positive Buck would introduce us that way.”

“He probably would.”

Then Diaz was there. “You were first on the scene?”

“I interrupted the act in progress and held pressure on Buck’s wounds until LAFD arrived.”

Diaz seemed to relax. “Thanks for that.”

“Literally no need to mention it.”

“He’s my best friend, and I’m not even going to be here through his whole recovery.” Diaz dragged his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re leaving in a couple of days?”

“What? No. In about a week.”

“He’ll be close to back to light duty by then, so you will be here for his recovery,” Alonzo said, joining the conversation. “I’m going to ask him to do a stint at the Academy. Might as well make use of his keen rescue skills to train the next crop of firefighters while he’s healing. I’ve already run it by Nash. He doesn’t think Buckley will agree, but I think he’ll be fine with it.”

Lou’s eyes narrowed. There was something too assured in the chief’s tone. He’d have to find out what else Evan had been up to.

To add to the chaos field, Jeanette trotted in. “I just heard! My goodness. Hi, Eddie. Oh, hi, Detective.” It should be obvious that Jeanette and Lou knew one another, but they’d decided to keep it somewhat quiet that he’d been the one to introduce her to Buck. Regardless, he did work at the same station as Athena.

Eddie stared at Jeanette. “How’d you know?”

“It’s all over the incident reports. I’m the main administrator for our station. I’m not technically on duty until morning, but you know…” She made a dismissive hand wave that didn’t remotely cover how the Captain would have called her in to handle a whole lot of garbage tonight.

“Is Buck okay?” She looked around at all of them, waiting for someone to give her an answer.

“He’s fine,” Lou finally replied. “Muscle damage is going to probably lay him low the longest, because nothing like something punching a hole through your abdomen to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch for longer than it has a right to, but the most dangerous thing was a nick to an artery that they repaired. He’ll be home in a day or two. Chief Alonzo was just saying they’re going to try to place him at the Academy for a few weeks so he doesn’t die of terminal boredom until he’s cleared to use his abdominal muscles the way only firefighters do.”

Jeanette smiled, looking relieved. “Yeah, that does hurt. I took two to the abdomen in theater. I’ll take childbirth—twins even—any day over bending over after that. Ooh. Bobby’s off the phone. Let me go see how he’s doing.”

Everyone stared after her.

“In theater?” Diaz echoed. “What is she, five foot nothing?”

“Five-foot-one, I believe.” Lou checked his watch. “Minimum height to enlist in the Marines is 4’8.”

“Marines?”

Lou shrugged.

Diaz frowned after her. “Buck had promised to help her move…”

“I’m sure he can still help her pack when the time comes,” Lou interjected.

Diaz gave him a sharp look. “I know he’ll still try to help, but it probably won’t be good for him.”

“I’m sure he can manage his own commitments.”

“Great,” Panikkar said, rubbing his hands together. “Let me go meet her properly and ask her if she’ll let the rest of A-shift jump in to help her and Buck out. He likely will try to do too much, and this way if we all jump in, we can have her moved in no time. Did she say she’s got kids?”

“Twins,” Lou confirmed.

“Buck can be on kid duty.”

Lou laughed.

Then it was just him and Diaz.

“You know Buck better than people think you do if you feel like you need to defend him.”

“I’m not defending him,” Lou countered. “But we’ve kept in touch.”

“Then what would you call it?”

Lou shot Diaz a look. “Reminding people that he’s an adult and can actually manage himself.”

Diaz crossed his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t always, and sometimes—”

“You are moving to Texas,” Lou said with careful enunciation. “I know this is a rough situation with you trying hard to cut your ties, but let others handle it. Let him handle it. He actually is a fully baked, fully grown human.”

“I know he’s a grown-up, but—”

Lou held up a hand. “I honestly can’t take you seriously when you throw a but in there. Just accept he’s an adult, you’re an adult, you’re moving to Texas, he supports you, enough said.”

Diaz looked flummoxed. “But now he’s hurt. Again.”

“And before you leave, he’ll might even already be back at work. He saved his sister from who knows what tonight. He seems pretty damn good at saving people.”

Diaz shook his head. “You don’t get it.”

“From your perspective, probably not. I empathize, Diaz, I truly do. I know how it hurts when someone you care about is wounded and there’s nothing you can do to help, but it’s not his problem to make you feel better about it.”

Diaz reared back. “I didn’t say it was.”

“Good. Just try to keep that in mind.” Lou looked at his watch. “I need to check in.”

“If there’s anything to know about the case, you probably can’t tell us, can you?”

“No, I really can’t.”

Diaz nodded. “You know Jeanette too, huh?”

“No one could possibly work at that station and not know her. I think Captain Maynard knows her best…. If you’re looking for a reference or something.”

“What? No.” Diaz waved it away. “Honestly, Buck’s reference is enough. And if I needed a second one for some reason, Athena and Bobby know her too. Anyway, thanks for being there for Buck and Maddie tonight. However that happened to come about.”

“Mm.” Lou caught Jeanette’s eye across the room, gave a faint tip of his head, and exited the waiting room.

---