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1. What’s your favorite cereal?
Even though Bobby was no longer the captain of the 118—for now—the older man was still very much around as part of the crew, much to the delight of everyone and the consternation of one Vincent Gerrard. And because Bobby’s duties now involve much less paperwork in the mornings, he’s taken to making even more elaborate breakfasts for everyone. Something just about everyone on the crew is happy to take advantage of, so it was quite the common sight to see most of the firehouse (those getting on shift and even some lingers after shift’s end) gathering in the loft area waiting for whatever fabulous creation Bobby has decided to whip up that particular morning.
Not even Gerrard’s perpetual scowl could ruin their mood. Bobby’s food was just that good.
Buck had arrived at the station just in the nick of time, crossing the threshold into the firehouse just as the clock turned 8:00am. He’s laughing into his phone as makes his way up to the loft after tossing his bag quickly into his locker. A quick glance around tells him that everyone on his team is already there, with him being the last to arrive, and Gerrard is sitting off in a corner far from everyone glaring at Buck.
It’s been about two months since Gerrard popped up at the station like a festering wound, oozing pus and ruining everyone’s day, and Buck is finally reaching his limit. Everyone is. Even the members of the 118 who don’t directly share a shift with Gerrard have been giving the man a wide berth, wanting to spend as little time in his presence as possible. And more often than not, they’d be giving the A-Shift looks of sympathy and pity as they switch off between shifts; even the captains of the other shifts have been less than happy at Gerrard’s unexpected (and unwelcomed) return.
“Cutting it close there, Buckley.”
“Morning, guys!” Buck ignores the annoying gnat he hears, all grins as he squeezes his way into the kitchen to steal a counter seat from Eddie. Who scowls but scoots over enough that they somehow manage to both fit onto the tiny seat, which earns them a fond eye roll from Hen and a snap of the camera from a giggling Chimney (who is no doubt sending the picture to Buck’s boyfriend who he left sleeping back at the loft).
“Your boyfriend know you spend so much time in another man’s lap?” Chimney jokes as snaps another picture, this time with Buck sticking his tongue out at the camera.
Buck feels more than sees some of the people dispersing behind him.
“It’s Eddie.” He laughs. While next to him, Eddie shrugs and says: “It’s me.”
Like that’s explanation enough. Which to the rest of the crew, it was. Just Buck and Eddie being Buck and Eddie.
“Fucking gays.” Comes from behind them.
Beside Buck, Eddie tenses but a small squeeze of Buck’s hand on his leg helps him relax a little. Gerrard’s presence, as always, brings the mood down a little. What was previously a jovial conversation between their little 118 family now has a dark shroud hanging over it. But that doesn’t stop Buck from continuing to ignore the man as if he hadn’t even spoken. He’s had enough of Gerrard making everyone feel less than with his bigotry.
“Plus, I’m starting to think Eddie is dating my boyfriend, what with them hanging out so much all the time.” Buck nudges Eddie with a laugh. “Thursday pick-ups that I’m not invited to. Fight nights. Muay Thai—”
“You hate basketball, and nearly maimed me.”
“One time!”
Eddie rolls his eyes.
Everyone laughs and Bobby starts to dish out the bacon.
“You think watching—what was it, half naked men pummel each other—is weird.”
Buck pouts exaggeratedly.
“And you get distracted too easily during Muay Thai.”
“I can’t help that my boyfriend looks so hot in those tiny little shorts.” Buck shrugs, looking off dreamily into the distance. He’d only been invited to join Tommy and Eddie once during a sparring session and never again. But really, who could blame him when he’s got Tommy rolling and bouncing around in front of him in those tight, tight shorts that are practically indecent, and showing off all his muscles. He might have caused them to end the session a little earlier than planned. But Buck wasn’t going to apologize for that; and he definitely reaped plenty of benefits from that day.
“You keep that gay shit out of my firehouse, fruit loops.” Gerrard shoves Chimney out of the way and glares down at Buck.
Buck ignores him and reaches to steal a piece of Bacon from Bobby.
“Fruity Pebbles.”
“What did you just call me?” Gerrard’s scowl deepened and he practically growled. Everyone froze, holding their breaths.
“I prefer Fruity Pebbles.” Buck munches on his piece of stolen goods as he meets Gerrard’s gaze calmly. Then he makes a show of blinking innocently as he looks around at his family and the other lingering crew and staff of the 118 around him, and says: “Oh, were we not sharing what our favorite cereals were?”
Somewhere behind Gerrard, Buck thinks he hears what could possibly be Chimney choking and Ravi hitting him on the back. Next to him, Eddie’s muscles tense up again, this time because the man is desperately trying not to laugh all while shooting Buck the most exasperatedly fond look. And Hen and Bobby look to be trying not to laugh themselves all while looking quite proudly at Buck.
Gerrard on the other hand looks a little more purple than red. Then he’s stomping off without another word.
Buck: 1
Gerrard: 0
2. Treat me like I’m royalty
Eight calls in as many hours and all being traffic accidents of some sort was quite frankly exhausting. All the screaming and yelling and tossing of blame back and forth certainly didn’t help the team’s already frazzled nerves. Not to mention they were only about eight hours into their shift.
But finally, they were able to head back to the station, and hopefully to at least a small reprieve.
And there were pastries and coffee waiting for them when they got back, courtesy of Bobby and Athena (who dropped by for a visit on her lunch break). Boxes of donuts from their favorite place were open and spread out along the main dining table, and Bobby was walking over with newly brewed coffee as the team walked up the stairs. Buck bounds up to the former captain and his wife, like the giant golden retriever everyone always says he is, and beams at Athena.
“Red velvet?” He flutters his lashes at the woman, a sweet as honey smile on his face. He ignores the look of disgust Eddie throws his way as the other man reaches past him to grab one of the plain glazed donuts from a box.
“You keep those baby blues away from me, Buckley.” Athena tells him but the smile peeking onto her face and the dark red donut she holds out to him cuts right through the harshness of the words.
“You were always my favorite, Athena.”
“Mmhmm.” She shoos him away with a look, the pleasant expression on her face falling away into a scowl at the sight of Gerrard making his way up to the loft.
“Well isn’t that nice,” Gerrard saunters over and snatches a donut for himself. Buck’s amazed he’s not currently on fire with the way Athena is glaring at the man. “Lady cop knows her place.” He salutes her with said donut mockingly, plopping himself down right at the middle of the table, reaching over to pour himself a cup of coffee.
It looks could kill—and if can’t Athena looks ready to reach for her gun. Bobby quickly steps in before they actually have to start coming up with cover stories and alibis for Athena in case she does end up (justifiably) murdering Gerrard. Hen is looking equally as pissed off and Chimney looks ready to say something when Buck hops back into the conversation.
He practically skips up to the table again and accidentally not-so-accidentally kicks Gerrard’s chair as he goes, causing the man to spill some coffee on the table. Buck ignores him when the man jumps up to avoid any hot coffee landing on him, and instead turns to look imploringly at Bobby.
“Do we have any oatmilk?” He asks the same time Gerrard growls out a, “What the fuck?!”
“Got some in the fridge.” Bobby moves away, pulling Athena with him just in case.
All the while, everyone else back at the table is only munching on their own donuts. No one bothers to help Gerrard at all; barely anyone is even looking over in the man’s direction. It takes seconds for Bobby to return with the oatmilk, handing it to Buck.
“Thank cap!”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gerrard’s shoulders roll up and his face starts to flush with anger. Not helped by the fact that Buck (and the others as well) still persist in calling Bobby, Cap, whenever they can. And just as he starts to pour the milk into his coffee when it gets snatched out of his hands, drops of milk flying in all directions. Buck looks up and is met with Gerrard’s ugly mug as the old man holds his oat milk captive in his wrinkly hands.
“We don’t do special treatments around here, princess.” Gerrard practically spits in his face.
He’s clearly trying to rile Buck up, but Buck doesn’t take the bait. At least not the way the man probably expects. Instead of getting in the asshole’s face and yelling back, Buck calmly sets his coffee on the table and leans in as close to Gerrard as possible, all the while internally cringing at having to smell of old man sweat wafting off the man.
“My boyfriend treats me like a queen, actually,” He takes back his oat milk and goes back to adding it to his cup. “Thank you very much.”
The loft is silent for a few stretched out moments and then there’s an angry huff followed by the sound of boots clomping on the steps.
“Keep your fucking pansy ass away from me.” Gerrard throws over his shoulders as he disappears downstairs.
Chimney’s laughter fills the air as Eddie elbows Buck playfully. Even Athena is smiling as everyone really digs into the donuts and whatever moment of rest they can steal before another call pulls them out of the station again.
Buck: 2
Gerrard: -1
3. Bippity Boppity Boo-Hoo
Halloween has been a hot topic at the firehouse in recent weeks, especially for those with kids. And Buck. Because even though Buck himself will not be dressing up, his little cutie pie of a niece will be and Buck has been near obsessive in his search for the ‘perfect’ costume for Jee. Websites, stores, everywhere. His search has yet to bear fruit, but he is close. He can feel it.
Maddie and Chim had suggested a Disney princess, which Buck rejected immediately. No niece of his was going to be some generic Disney princess like all the other kids that’ll be roaming the streets trick-or-treating. Absolutely not.
“What’s wrong with one of the Disney princesses? I don’t get it.” Chimney asks as opens his locker to start changing into his uniform. “Are you saying your precious niece isn’t good enough to be a princess?”
The older man levels him with a playful glare, which Buck rolls his eyes at.
“Are you saying your daughter is only some generic princess?” Buck scoffs, buttoning up his own uniform.
He walks out of the locker, head already re-buried in his phone, scrolling through one of the costume sites recommended to him by a popular mommy blog. The scrolling doesn’t stop and Buck doesn’t even bother looking up as he makes his way up to the loft. He smelled coffee and he could really use a cup; Buck was still trying to make-nice with Tommy’s ancient coffeemaker and today they decided it was an off-day for their (him and the coffeemaker) relationship. So Buck doesn’t really notice that he’s on a collision course with the last person he wants to talk to—with or without caffeine—until it’s too late.
Buck’s phone flies out of his hands and lands on the floor with a loud clatter as he slams, hard, into a foul scented object and proceeds to follow his phone to the ground.
“Shit!”
“What the fuck!”
It was Gerrard.
Buck rolls his eyes at the much older man who is also lying sprawled on the ground. He really does not have the mental capacity to deal with Gerrard’s bullshit right now. Behind him, familiar hands grab him under his arms and help him to his feet. He gives Eddie a grateful smile. Then he remembers his phone. Please don’t be broken! He thinks as he looks around for said item.
He finds it face up about a foot away from Gerrard.
And he’s not the only one who noticed. In particular, he’s not the only one who noticed that his phone screen was very much not cracked and very much on. Lit up brightly, it showed everyone who so much as glanced at it exactly what Buck was looking up: sparkly, colorful, dresses. Suffice to say, Gerrard definitely took notice given the sneer of disgust that appeared on his ugly mug.
“Finally grow a pussy between your legs, Buckley?”
Buck rears back, anger and disbelief war inside of him. He must have misheard Gerrard’s words because what the fuck!? But a quick look at everyone else’s faces tells him he did indeed hear those words coming out of the asshole’s mouth. And his first reaction is to punch the man. He doesn’t. Instead he just scoops up his phone and walks away, towards his team, towards where Eddie has both fists balled up and looks just as ready to throw hands as Buck had felt seconds ago.
He shakes his head and nudges as his best friend, and repeats the action towards Chimney and Hen, who also look ready to jump to Buck’s defense. He’s grateful for his family, but he’d rather they not be met with disciplinary action because of him. No, it’s best to just ignore Gerrard; with a mouth like that, the man will surely get himself in trouble once again. Plus, Buck is aware that nearly everyone in the 118 house has been regularly sending HQ reports and complaints on Gerrard—whoever installed him here won’t be able to keep sweeping shit under the rug for much longer.
It’s as he’s pulling a chair out and sitting down, focusing back on his phone and his search for Jee’s perfect costume that Buck hears the irritating, scratchy voice again.
“What a fucking fairy.”
“Hmm, I think I’m more water nymph. Oceanid or a Naiad, actually.” Buck casually throws out. Beside him, Eddie chokes on a mouthful of coffee, coughing up a lung even as he starts to laugh. Hen’s shoulders are shaking with repressed laughter and Chimney snorts so loud he sounded like a pig. “How else do you explain my always surviving water-related emergencies. I’m telling you.” He’s all straight-faced and serious, even as he’s laughing up a storm inside.
“Well you’re certainly no Tinkerbell.” Eddie manages to get out in between coughs.
“That’s all you, Eddie. You’re all sass.” Buck points out.
Hen and Chimney agree before calling out what type of fairy or nymph they think each other are. Buck suggests a Lampad, an underworld nymph because of Chim’s abilities to cheat death time and time again. Hen was more wood nymph, they agreed, all about nature and healing. A few other members of the 118 started throwing in their own votes and suggestions.
If Gerrard said more things, none of them heard. But they did hear him storming off, the back exit of the station house slamming shut seconds later. Everyone laughs and conversations continue.
Buck: 3
Gerrard: -5
4. just desserts and good vibes
Jumping out of the fire engine only to be greeted by the familiar barking of Buck’s favorite dog did a lot to relax the tension in his shoulders. He swears working at the current 118 where Vincent Gerrard was the house captain was doing more harm to Buck’s musculature than his mental health, he was alway wound so tight around the man, and the added air of oppression and depression throughout the usually very happy station was only making it worse. It’s only been about three months, but it feels more like three years.
Yet, the sight of an excited Bear running full speed towards Buck, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, did a lot to cheer Buck up. Even Gerrard’s glare as the man rounded the trunk did nothing to dampen Buck’s smile.
“Teddy Bear!” Arms open, Buck braces himself as Bear all but tackles him, jumping straight into his waiting embrace and nearly knocking him over. It was only Eddie’s quick reflexes, hands against his back in support, that kept him upright. “I’ve missed you!” He squeezes his arms around the squirming Malinois in his arms as he lets the dog lick him on the cheeks before turning to plant his own kisses all over Bear’s snout.
“You two just saw each other this morning.” A voice filled with fond affection reaches Buck’s ear and it has both Buck and the dog in his arms turning to search out the owner of said voice, finding the older man standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed and showing off those stunning biceps the size of Buck’s head.
“Which is waaaaay too long.” Buck pouts mockingly as he practically bounds over to his boyfriend, happy pup still in his arms, leaning in for a kiss which Tommy returns with his signature dimpled smile.
Only for the smile to drop the second Gerrard comes into his line of vision, ever present scowl on the man’s grizzled face effectively ruining everyone’s mood, even if Buck was still perfectly happy to have his Teddy Bear in his arms and his boyfriend inches from his body. He does his best to ignore Gerrard as the man shoves his way past him and Tommy to head up to the loft, careful to not accidentally touch the dog in Buck’s arms. He must have learned his lesson the last time Bear had visited, when Gerrard made some remark about Bear being a ‘disgusting mutt’ and tried to not-so-subtly kick him only to have said mutt nearly bite him; Bear also growled menacingly whenever Gerrard was within a six-foot radius. Must still be a memorable moment for the geriatric Captain—Buck had treated Bear to a poochini from Shake Shack on the way home that day.
However, Gerrard’s fear of Bear didn’t stop him from running his mouth though.
“Fucking liberals letting sissy fudgepackers call themselves firefighters.” The man’s words could be heard clearly by everyone and Buck can see the wave of raised hackles, can feel Tommy’s own body tense all over from where they were inadvertently shoved even closer together by Gerrard. Buck can feel the hand Tommy has on his waist clench against the fabric of his uniform shirt and he leans back just a little more into the older man’s embrace, as much to comfort as to hold him back from punching Gerrard and getting himself suspended for punching a superior.
Bear doesn’t hold back his opinions, though, letting out a loud bark followed by a whole-body vibrating growl that has even the hairs on Buck’s neck standing on end.
“Shh…” Buck sets Bear down and cuddles the pup close, before turning to look at Tommy. “I’m in the mood for brownies.”
With that he heads up the stairs, Bear trailing behind him. He chuckles as he hears Tommy ask Eddie, “brownies?” only to not get an answer from the latino; Eddie shrugging as if to say, ‘it’s Buck, what can you do,’ pops up in Buck’s head has his chuckle turning to full-on laughter as he shoulders past where Gerrard has parked himself at the shared dining table, into the kitchen to start pulling out ingredients.
They’ve been pulled off-duty for the next hour, just enough time for Buck to whip up what he is suddenly craving. He even orders Eddie and Tommy around, both men more than willing to follow Buck’s whims despite the occasional eye rolling. And 40 minutes later, Buck sets down a steaming hot plate of brown confection on the table, right in front of Gerrard.
“Brownies. Packed with fudge.”
Buck holds back his giggles as the man before him turns nearly purple, gray mustache twitching. The rest of the station certainly aren’t holding back their own laughs as Buck picks up a big square of the brown dessert and bites into it, directly in Gerrard’s eyeline, chewing happily with a smug smile on his lips.
“Disgusting.” Gerrard pushes back his chair with a loud screech, already walking away by the time Tommy joins Buck at the table, pulling the blond into his side with one arm, placing a soft kiss on Buck’s birthmark.
Buck: 4
Gerrard: -10
5. My Meatball Brings All the Boys to the Yard
It was Buck’s turn to cook ‘family dinner’ at the station house tonight with Bobby off for the week to spend time with Athena—though everyone on the A-shift is well aware the former Captain’s week off was actually an excuse to spend more time investigating the Gerrard and Ortiz issue plaguing the 118. He was standing around the kitchen staring down at the ingredients spread across the counter, trying to decide what to make; picking up his phone, Buck was about to text Eddie—the man had abandoned him at the station with Gerrard, but it was to spend time with Chris so Buck supposes that’s forgivable—for an opinion when the devil himself walks out of the bunk room.
“Finally a place where you belong, Buckley.” Gerrard sneers, walking around Buck to reach for the half-empty coffee pot. “In the kitchen like a good little Suzy Homemaker. Fucking faggot.”
Buck has the urge to throw the knife in his hand at Gerrard’s head, but he also doesn’t really want to go to prison for murder—even if it would be a well justified crime. Though if he were, he’s sure his family and friends would happily visit him in lockup, maybe Athena could also help him get a lighter sentence even, and surely Tommy would be up for conjugal sex, too. He grips the knife tighter, as if to physically stop himself from just chucking it at the bane of his existence only feet away from him.
He doesn’t.
But he really, really wants to.
Instead, he looks back at the ingredients in front of him and feels a light bulb come on in his head. Buck knows exactly what he wants to make for dinner tonight. It’s perfect. He gets to work, mixing all the ingredients he needs into a bowl after he puts the potatoes and peas on the stove to boil in separate pots. Then he sets about forming the mixed ingredients into decent sized spheres before wrapping them in bacon. He makes enough to feed all the people currently on shift, which means platters and platters full of small fist-sized meatballs for a bunch of bottomless pit firefighters.
All the while, Buck ignores the piercing gaze burning a wretched hole into him as he works. He doesn’t know why Gerrard is staring at him, likely afraid Buck would put something ‘sissy’ in his food and infect him with ‘the gay’.
Whatever. Buck hopes he chokes later on it.
He continues to work mostly silently, only speaking when someone other than Gerrard wanders into the kitchen. But he never tells anyone what he’s making even when they ask, simply saying it’s, “meatballs, and it’ll be good.” Everyone seems to be okay with the answer, Buck having more than proved his cooking skills in the last seven years.
So when Buck sets all the finished food on the table, no one hesitates to take a serving: creamy mash potatoes, bright green peas, and large bacon wrapped meatballs made with ground pork and lots of herbs. He watches proudly as everyone starts digging in, different praises for how good the food tastes popping up here and there, some more muffled by mouthfuls of food than others. But Buck isn’t paying attention to anyone else except Gerrard. He watches out of the corner of his eye as the old man picks up a forkful of meatballs and stuffs it into his mouth. He waits for the man to chew, seemingly enjoying the food as much as everyone else, and catches him right as he’s about to swallow.
“How’s the faggot tasting, Captain?” Buck smirks as he watches the man’s eyes bulge and his face turn red, then purple, then white as he all but spits out his mouthful of food and starts to hack up a lung.
“What the fuck, Buckley?” The man screams at him from several seats away, already getting ready to stand up and make his way over to where Buck is sitting, flanked by a laughing Chimney and an amused Hen.
“The meatballs,” Buck blinks innocently, “they’re traditionally called faggots and are a beloved dish in the UK, don’t you know. So, did you enjoy your bite of faggot, Captain Gerrard?”
He stares the man straight in the eyes, one eyebrow lifted as if challenging the man to do something.
Gerrard spits out the rest of the food onto his plate and storms off, his office door slamming behind him seconds later. The rest of the firefighters all laugh and clap as they dig back into the delicious food Buck has made. It’s always a good day at the 118 when Buck manages to piss off Gerrard.
Buck: 5
Gerrard: -100
1. The End
Gerrard tenders his resignation before Bobby is even back from his week off, much to the delight of the entire 118—maybe even the delight of the entire LAFD.
Hen buys a cake shaped like a dart board with Gerrard in the center, several edible chocolate darts sticking out of the man’s head. Buck bakes a variety of cupcakes in rainbow colors and even makes fairy bread just because he can. They’ve also invited family and friends for the Devil Begone party.