Bring on the Heat

Chapter One: Family Burns

(Too Much Time On My Hands by Styx; Losing Your Memory by Ryan Star)

"It's another beautiful day here in sunny Santa Barbara," a cheery voice called through the radio, "so let's make the most of it. This is Shawn Spencer, wishing you a good morning and a great day."

"Shawn, what are you doing?" another voice asked before the station suddenly switched to loud music.

A panicked gasp sounded before a hand appeared out of a mountain of covers, patting blindly across the nightstand for the alarm. After a few moments of frantic searching, it finally managed to smash the snooze button. The hand returned to its owner, a groan following shortly after it. "Son of a bitch..." he grumbled, fumbling for his pager as it began beeping. Can't a man just sleep in?

"We have reports of smoke coming from the Lex Corp. buildings on 35th," the dispatcher spoke.

The hand's owner smirked, turning the black box off. "Sorry, Charles, but today's my day off." He closed his eyes and settled back into the pillows, only to curse when his phone began ringing.

"Get your ass out of bed and on that truck!" the fiery redhead shouted in his ear before he even had a chance to properly answer the phone.

"Jesus Christ!" he shrieked, now wide awake. "What the hell, Charlie?! It's my day off!"

There was no doubt that Charlie was rolling her eyes. "Boo-hoo, princess. You chose this job, so go and do it."

"Yeah, I chose to do it on a schedule," he groaned.

"Dean Winchester, if you are not on that truck in six minutes—so help me—I will come to your house and personally kick your ass."

Dean sighed for the first time that morning, reluctantly dragging himself out of the warm cocoon that was his bed. "Fine! Fine, I'm going."

"Good!" Charlie exclaimed. "Oh, gotta go. Smell ya later!"

"What does that even mean?" he asked, but the line had already gone dead. Quickly stepping into the jeans that were always ready by the side of his bed, he snatched his keys and ran out the door. Taking the back roads, he pulled up to the station in three minutes flat. Who cares about speed limits when you know the entire police force in town? Sprinting into the garage, he pulled on his uniform and jumped into the truck.

One of the older members of the department raised an eyebrow. "Thought you were off today, Winchester."

Dean shook his head, laughing as the truck lurched into motion. "Yeah, so did I."

"Charlie?"

"Charlie."

Everyone laughed. "She sure is something, isn't she?" someone asked, a slight dreamy tone in her voice.

"Joanna Harvelle, are you implying what we're all thinking?" Dean asked, winking at her.

Jo blushed. "What? No! I was..." she couldn't think of a good excuse, so she simply turned out the window while the crew snickered. "Oh, look, we're here!" she exclaimed a few minutes later, jumping out of the truck, the Chief following behind her to figure out what they were dealing with.

"Charjo for life!" one of the newer guys shouted after her. He was unusually skinny, making the idea of him being a firefighter seem slightly comical.

"Shut up, Garth!" Jo blushed even darker, shoving him into the side of the truck. "We've got work to do, so let's do it."

"Actually, it's a false alarm," Chief Singer said as he came back. "Sorry, Jo, but it looks like we're not needed."

Her blush only deepened more as she ran to the second unit. "I'm gonna ride with you guys, so one of you has to move," she ordered.