Dandelions

Chief Alonzo

Edited 7/11/2025

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Alonzo hadn't planned to drive over, let alone knock. He'd read the headlines, ignored his doctor's warning about caffeine, and by the time his third cup was gone, he was parked outside Bobby and Athena's place wondering what the hell he was doing.

Bobby opened the door before he could overthink it. "You're not here to fire me again, are you?" he said, half-smiling like he wasn't sure it was a joke.

"No," Alonzo shook his head. "Not this time."

Bobby waited, polite as always, clearly trying not to push for details. Athena solved that by appearing from the living-room like she already knew what was going on. "Chief Alonzo," she said, "please tell me you're not here to fire my husband. Again."

That actually made him laugh. "You people really need to stop assuming the worst."

"Coffee?" she asked, already walking toward the kitchen.

"Always," he said, following.

Athena poured while Bobby leaned against the counter. "So, what's this about?" Bobby asked finally.

Alonzo wrapped his hands around the mug for a moment. "I'm retiring," he said. "It's time." Silence was followed by two raised eyebrows. "I'm not gonna fake modesty," he continued. "I'm old and the department needs some fresh perspective."

Bobby frowned, not quite knowing how to process the news, and Athena didn't look surprised so much as thoughtful.

Alonzo looked straight at Bobby. "I want to recommend you for Chief."

Bobby blinked startled. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Alonzo repeated, deadpan. "Don't act like that's a crazy idea."

Bobby tried to find the right words but failed, then he laughed. It was short and disbelieving. Athena reached over and touched his arm, both in encouragement and support. "I don't know what to say," Bobby admitted.

"'Yes, would work," Alonzo replied teasingly, taking a sip of coffee. That broke the tension. Bobby laughed again, softer this time, the sound leaning more on relief. "I mean it," Alonzo continued. "You are a fantastic captain and your work rebuilding the 118 is not short of a miracle. I couldn't trust anyone else to do my job better than you."

Bobby nodded slowly, as the idea settled in, while Athena smiled at him, proud and a little teary.

Alonzo leaned back against the chair. "One more thing," he said. "If you move up, 118's gonna need a new captain. Got anyone in mind?"

The couple exchanged that look married people use when they have a whole conversation with only their eyes. "Lieutenant Evan Buckley."

Alonzo raised a brow, amused. "Buckley? Good record, sure. But he's young for captain, isn't he?"

Athena didn't miss a beat. "He's thirty-five. There've been younger captains. And even if he were, he's seen more action than most who've sat in that chair. He's earned it, and you know that."

Alonzo raised an eyebrow at the protectiveness in the Sargeant's tone. Like a mama bear ready to tear his throat in defense of her cub. Not that he could blame her, he had read the reports, and she wasn't wrong. The kid had been through hell, learned from it, and still showed up every day giving the job his hundred percent.

"Tsunamis, plane crashes, bombs, earthquakes, that high-rise collapse," Athena went on, steady and sure. "You name a nightmare, and he's been in the middle of it. Half the time he's the one holding the line until backup gets there. You think most captains could've handled that difficult rescue after the train derailment the way he did? Or saved all those people after getting caught in the middle of a tsunami? He's the one who's always first in and last out."

She paused, just to let her words sink in. "You can doubt his age if you want," she said, quieter now, "but not his experience."

Alonzo didn't push back. He glanced at Bobby, who already looked like he'd had this argument before, probably more than once over dinner.

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Alonzo said. "But Buck's not the only one with time in. Han's got twenty years in the job, Wilson handled command before, and Diaz—well, he ran units in the military. Leadership's not new to him."

"They would all refuse," Bobby said easily. "Hen's already done the job and doesn't want it again. She didn't exactly have the best luck balancing it with her personal life. Chim won't touch paperwork unless someone forces him, and he's been dodging command since that stint after my suspension. And Eddie—" Bobby shook his head, smiling faintly. "He said he'd quit before taking command."

Alonzo let out a quiet laugh. That sounded about right.

"Buck, though," Bobby continued, leaning forward a little, "he's the guy with the clipboard."

Alonzo raised a brow. "The what?"

Athena chuckled under her breath.

Bobby shook his head fondly as he recalled the memory. "He's the one who keeps the rig stocked without being told. Knows which hydrants in the district haven't been serviced this year. Tracks equipment checks, inspection dates, certifications — all in his head. He's the guy who double-checks the ropes, rewinds the hoses, makes sure everyone's gear is where it's supposed to be. During the blackout last year, he rerouted the solar charging stations himself and filed the reports before anyone asked. He didn't even wait for approval; he just saw a gap and filled it."

Athena nodded. "That's him on scene, too. He's the first one spotting structural issues or power hazards while everyone else is still trying to get bearings. He remembers faces, names, and conditions. I've seen him talk someone down from shock while coordinating medics and still manage to be two steps ahead of the chaos. That's natural leadership, if I've ever seen it."

Alonzo tried to picture it, and it tracked. Buck was the type who thrived on proactivity, he was restless and detail-oriented, with the kind of energy that kept everyone else moving forward too.

"He cares," Bobby continued, softer this time. "About the job, the people, and the station. Half the crew goes to him before they come to me. He's already doing most of what a captain does, God knows he helps me with half of my paperwork!"

Athena nodded. "Not to mention that the team follows him. They respect him and listen to him."

Alonzo could easily visualize Buck running drills, steady in chaos, probably with that clipboard in hand. "I see your point," Alonzo agreed. "He'll make a good captain." And he meant it. The conviction in Bobby's tone wasn't just professional; it was personal. Pride mixed with something warmer, almost paternal. "Shouldn't be too hard to get it approved," Alonzo added. "Public relations will love it. Buckley's been the poster boy of the LAFD for years."

Alonzo's coffee had gone cold, but he barely noticed. The future of the 118 was already reshaping itself right there over the kitchen table. And what a bright future it will be.