desertion

185

LYDIA

The office was unusually quiet, the hum of the air conditioner and the scratching of pens on paper the only sounds. Mason sat across from me, his chair tilted back precariously as he tossed a stress ball in the air and caught it lazily.

"You're going to break that chair," I muttered, not looking up from my laptop.

"Relax, beautiful," he said, using the nickname he'd started calling me. "This chair's built for durability. Like me."

I rolled my eyes, finally glancing up. "Durable, huh? Didn't you pull your back out lifting a box last week?"

"That box was unreasonably heavy," he countered, feigning offense.

"It was full of paper clips."

"And yet, you're the one who didn't offer to help," he shot back, smirking.

I shook my head, returning to my work. Mason's ability to make everything a joke was both infuriating and, admittedly, endearing.

After a moment, he stopped throwing the ball and leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. "Hey, Lyds. What do you think about taking a break?"

"We just got back from lunch," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but that was like two hours ago."

"Try thirty minutes."

He sighed dramatically, standing up and stretching. "Fine. I'll go grab coffee or something. You want anything?"

"No, I'm good," I said, but he was already out the door.

When he came back ten minutes later with a coffee and a bag of chips for me, I didn't bother arguing.

********

Later in the day, we stopped by the firehouse to drop off some paperwork. Mason had only been here a handful of times, but the 118 had already adopted him like one of their own.

"Hey, look who it is!" Chimney called as we walked in. "Lydia and her shadow."

Mason grinned, holding out his hands. "Shadow? I think you mean indispensable partner."

"Sure, sure," Hen said, smirking. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Mason was already making himself at home, leaning against the counter and grabbing one of the donuts Buck had brought in.

"You can't just eat their food," I said, exasperated.

"Relax, pretty," he said through a mouthful of donut. "They love me."

"They tolerate you," I corrected.

"Same thing," he said, grinning.

Buck walked over, clapping Mason on the shoulder. "You know, Mason, if this whole detective thing doesn't work out, we've got room for another firefighter."

"Tempting," Mason said, finishing his donut. "But I think Lydia would miss me too much if I left."

"Not even a little," I muttered, but the smile on my face gave me away.

Chris appeared a few minutes later, waving excitedly when he saw me.

"Hey, Chris," Mason said, crouching down to fist-bump him. "How's my favorite kid doing?"

Chris beamed. "Good! You coming over later?"

"Depends," Mason said, glancing at me. "Think your sister will let me?"

Chris looked at me expectantly, and I sighed. "I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"Never do," Mason said, standing up and ruffling Chris's hair.

********

That evening, Mason followed me home like always. Chris was already setting up the board game he wanted to play, and Mason dropped onto the couch like he owned the place.

"You're not even going to ask if you can stay?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "What's the point? You never say no."

Chris laughed, already shuffling the cards. "She really doesn't."

We played for an hour, Mason and Chris ganging up on me at every turn. By the time the game ended-with Mason somehow winning-it was nearly Chris's bedtime.

"You cheated," I accused as Chris headed upstairs.

"You're just mad you lost," Mason said, smirking.

I threw a pillow at him. "You're insufferable."

"And yet, you keep inviting me over."

I rolled my eyes, sitting back down on the couch. "Only because Chris likes you."

He grinned, leaning back and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "Admit it, Lyds. You'd miss me if I wasn't here."

I didn't respond, but the truth was, he wasn't wrong.

After a while, we sat in comfortable silence, the TV playing softly in the background. Mason glanced over at me, his expression unusually serious.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"Just checking," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "You've been quiet."

I hesitated before answering. "I guess I'm just tired."

He didn't say anything, but after a moment, he shifted closer, his arm brushing against mine. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to remind me that, no matter how much we argued, Mason always had my back.

As the night went on, I realized how much I valued these moments-quiet, chaotic, and everything in between.