There’s fire, anyway, and there’s the fire brigade and there are at least twenty people standing outside of their flats at 4am on a Thursday morning. Who (the fuck) cooks at 4am anyway? From a tumblr prompt that went something like this: "Fire alarm goes off at 4am and it's cold and you're half-naked and cute" - AN: I wrote again! After thousands of years! (You can also find me on AO3: postmoderne)