Chicago Fire: Burning Bright

Like A House on Fire

Chapter One: Like a House on Fire

Cailin pulled herself reluctantly away from Jeff; turning back to where Matt was still kneeling in front of Gabby, as the intercom crackled to lif

"Are you kidding me?" Cailin yelped as the call came in. "Did she answer? I don't think she answered," she grumbled, "stupid fires."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh at her chagrin. "Sounds like it is just a scrap fire. I am sure they will be back soon enough, trying to steal the Chief and Donna's thunder. In the meantime, more cake for us," he joked.

"Good, because otherwise I am sure Mouch would have devoured it all!" She smiled up at him, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek before they moved out of the way, knowing the intricate ballet that was about to happen. She let out a groan, "total Chief move, Boden."

"What's that, babe?" Clarke asked after plucking a piece fabric off the Squad truck.

"Boden is going with them, apparently he missed the memo on it being his wedding day," she said, shaking her head until she saw Donna. "Except she seems cool with it, so who am I to judge?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Clarke smirked, trying and failing to remove the fabric from the ladder truck before it drove away.

"It feels really weird to not drink at a wedding," Cailin remarked as they sat at a table after helping 51 take off.

Clarke gave her a smile, "maybe your family would be welcome at more places around town if-oof," he cut off as she playfully punched him. "Nice left hook, de la Hoya. Guess your shoulder is all healed, huh?"

"We shall see," she said, ignoring the twinge of pain she felt overextending it. "Still have to re-qualify and find a department to take me."

She looked so downcast that Clarke pointed over to the table where the bride was sitting with Hermann's wife, Detective Lindsay and the barely recognizable Desk Sergeant from the 2-1. "Why don't you go sit with the cool kids? I think they are passing around a bottle."

Cailin followed his finger, part of her wanting to go join in with the other women, but something stopped her. Moments with Jeff feeling somehow more precious. But, Voight did say he would be willing to give her a chance because of Erin's seal of approval...she was debating what to do when she heard the uptick in radio chatter. Her heart rate increasing before her ears even knew what was happening. It thudded even harder as she watched Connie rush over to adjust the volume.

"Mayday emergency, mayday emergency, house 51 not reporting. Building explosion at 5929 South State Street. Request back up from all available houses. Hazmat hold for instruction, potential chemical hazard on scene."

Clarke and Cailin's eyes met and grew wide, both of them accustomed to always, at least subconsciously, being attuned to radio chatter. Able to hear it when the civilian guests, including the bride, could not. Cailin nodded at Clarke, who already heading for the gear room, knowing his pre-Lieutenant bunker kit still sat inside. She looked over at the table of women, not knowing who had realized what was happening, catching Cindy's panicked filled eyes as she dumped out her purse, searching for her keys. She could tell the woman was trying to not outwardly emote, just like she could also tell the astute Erin had picked up that something was wrong. Cailin strode to the table, her jaw and shoulders set.

"Cindy, why don't you give Trudy here the keys to your minivan," Cailin said, her voice calm, but clearly an order.

"She's barely had a sip," Donna protested, though her voice wavered as she could feel the change in the air.

"Sergeant Platt, why don't you hold on to those for a while, take the women back into the quarters," Erin suggested, gesturing with her head toward the intercom, now incessantly squawking like an injured bird. Platt caught on immediately, taking the keys from a now shaking Cindy and ushering the two women towards the multipurpose room.