spark

Chapter 2 : 7.1

The sound of food sizzling on the stove was music to Buck's ears, that and the constant chirping of his phone as he was texting with Stiles.

"You ever feel like you missed your calling, Cap?" Chimney asked from his seat at the end of the kitchen island. The 118 was in between calls at the station, waiting patiently while Bobby was cooking them omelettes for breakfast.

"What are you thinking? Michelin-rated restaurant, or short order cook?" Bobby asks, smiling as he sprinkled some cheese on the currently cooking omelette, Hen hovering over his shoulder in intrigue.

"I was thinking TV chef. I mean, what you do, it's like performance art."

"Mm-hmm, and much like watching cooking on TV, we never get to taste anything." Hen joked, walking away from Bobby and the stove as she went to converse more closely with Chimney. "Usually by the time it hits the table, the bell goes off."

"Alright: speed round. If you weren't doing this, what would you be doing?" Bobby asks, a smiling gracing his features.

"Fighter pilot. Topgun. Call sign: Shogun." Chimney states, zero hesitation present, earning a derisive laugh out of Hen.

"What about you, Hen?"

"Editorial cartoonist, The New Yorker." she replied, plopping down on a stool adjacent to Chimney. Both Chimney and Bobby shared a look of disbelief between each other. "I have a lot to say."

"You draw?" Bobby asked, trying and failing to stifle his doubt.

"No, it's a dream. It's not supposed to be attainable." Hen supplied, pointing a utensil at Chimney. "Topgun? You can barely drive, you rebar head."

"Hey!" Chimney protests, right as Buck walked up to the counter. "Alright, Buckaroo, if you were not a member of the LAFD, what would you be doing?"

"Uh, I don't know. I'm not getting fired, am I?" Buck inquired, looking to Bobby as the man rolled his eyes.

"That's inevitable." Chimney muttered bitterly.

"He'd be a golden retriever." Hen joked, earning a confused smile from Buck.

"No, a bartender. No, no, no, bouncer at a bar." Firefighter Han suggested, joining Hen in the increasingly absurd job ideas for Buck.

"A bouncer at a strip club."

The two friends high-fives as Buck walked over and sat down on a stool at one of the high standing tables. He looked down at his phone, chuckling after it dinged again.

"What's going on with you, kid? You're a lot happier than you were last week." Bobby asks, pointing a spatula at Buck's phone.

"Still cannot believe the nomad boyfriend is real, let alone 'Thena's rookie." Hen mused, shaking her head slightly. "Lord knows that boy is gonna have a rocky road."

"What did you say his real name was? Me-chi-something?" Chimney asked, a teasing smile on his face.

"Mieczyslaw, it's Polish. His maternal grandfather had the same name, and his mom wanted him to be remembered. The nickname, that's one he got from his paternal grandfather, who was called Stiles when he served in the military. Stiles' dad didn't want to butcher his father-in-law's name, so he just gave him something easy to go by that let him remember his father, too." Buck explained, shrugging his shoulders as both paramedics and their captain looked at him confused. "What?"

"I'm still confused. Just the other day, you were punching him, now you're exchanging texts like a couple of high school sweethearts?" Chimney questioned, doing a texting motion with his fingers. "What is up with that?"