FRIENDLY FIRE: A 9-1-1 fanfiction

Part Forty-Seven: Sugar High

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EMMA

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"What's for dinner?" Christopher asked, glancing over his shoulder at Eddie and I.

"Uh..." Eddie cringed, unlocking the door to his house, "that'll depend on what the Uber delivery guy will bring."

I snorted softly, digging my hand into my pocket to pull my phone out, "What are you feeling, Chris?"

"Waffles and slushies," Christopher answered swiftly, shuffling inside the house, dumping his backpack that he'd taken with him to his aunt's house on the floor.

"Okay, no," Eddie huffed, bending to pick up the bag, tossing it to the side, under the metal key stand by the door. He then moved back, motioning for me to go inside before he came in after me. "How about something with some vegetables?"

"What do you have in your fridge?" I asked, kicking my shoes off and pushing them into the wall, "I'm sure we can add a tomato to a waffle if you've got one."

"You're as bad as Christopher," Eddie groaned, his hand grazing my hip as he dodged around me, moving into the living room. "No waffles. I'll make us pasta or something."

"You're a terrible cook, though," Christopher complained loudly from the sofa, already setting up his Xbox to play games on it.

"Rude," Eddie muttered under his breath, moving into the kitchen and starting to open the cupboards. "You may be in luck though because we only have one onion, a slightly rotten tomato, and a bowl of rice that I think I had my phone in the other day."

"We could go grocery shopping," I offered, poking my head around the kitchen doorway, "it's not that late. There's a Korean supermarket near Hollis's place that's open 24/7."

"I like the sound of that," Eddie sighed, shutting his cupboard doors, throwing me a quick smile. "And we can pick up Adonis on the way back." He paused then, his smile lowering a little, "Unless you don't want to stay here anymore, which I could totally understand, you have your own place after all. I just thought you might want to—"

I moved forward quickly, reaching my hand up to cover his mouth, smiling widely, "I'm staying."

I felt him smile against my palm before he nodded.

"Right," I lowered my hand, "grab some bags, I'll grab my purse."

"Bags?" Eddie raised his brow questioningly,

"I'm not paying 10 cents for a bag, Edmundo," I shook my head.

"Noted," he moved back, going to look for bags under his sink cupboard, "Chris, shoes back on, we're going out!"

"Do I have to?" Christopher yelled back,

"Yes!" Eddie huffed, pulling out a bag of bags. "Now!"

"Sir, yes, Sir," I mused, turning on my heels as well, stifling a laugh as I heard Eddie gasp in pain before the cupboard door slammed shut.

After a short trip in the car and plenty of terrible karaoke battles between myself and Christopher, we reached the brightly lit up supermarket. There were only three cars in the parking lot when we got there, and aside from a sleepy cashier, no one else was seemingly in the store.

Christopher showed no interest in walking around with Eddie and I, and he immediately sought out an aisle full of sweets and snacks.

I grabbed a shopping cart, ignoring the squeaky wheels, pushing it slowly as Eddie rushed off momentarily to inform Christopher that no one needed more than four candy bars.