Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leah wipes the sweat building on her brow. She slips her glove back on, tucking her goggles back onto her face before gripping her rake again and digging it into the ground. They are digging more lines today, hoping to stop the fire from burning toward the town and angle it in a different direction. Her radio crackles, and the wind and combined noise from the tools around her make it difficult to hear Shelby’s voice.

“Say again, command. Over,” Leah releases the button from her radio, looking at Rachel curiously. Rachel shakes her head – she didn’t hear it either.

Leah holds her hand out, her crew stopping their work and Shelby’s voice sounds again over the radio, “Command to ground crew 8, call received from two occupants in a cabin within the red zone. Evac required. Sending GPS location to you. Over.”

She’s leading the unit today, a mix of her FD and the volunteer corps. Martha is on rest, and won’t be back on shift until tomorrow, which means Leah is an acting Lieutenant today.

She shakes her head, stifling the groan of annoyance to answer back over the radio. “Ten-four command. Coordinates received.”

She checks the small tablet in her harness, moving her fingers across the screen to scan the map. They have been fighting this fire for a week now, it drives her and her co-workers insane when civilians ignore evacuation orders because it puts everyone at risk. It makes all the lines they’ve dug – all the brush they’ve cleared, seem useless if their efforts are diverted to rescue in a red zone and the fire jumps the line they’ve spent days setting.

“Alright, 8, line up!” Leah says loudly, waving her team over. They gather around her in their yellow and orange wildland gear. Their faces a muck with sweat, dust, and debris – she looks like that too. Has looked like that for five days now. Her last shift before her mandatory four days off is today, and she’s determined to do well and make a strong case for a formal promotion to Lieutenant.

“Two civilians in a cabin, ten klicks west of here,” she announces, scanning various expressions of annoyance and groans. “In the red zone. I know, but we’re here and we’re going to get them.”

“Reid, O’Conner, and McKenna,” she lists, showing the group the geolocation on her tablet. “You’re on evac. Take the truck, Rach.”

“Copy that,” Rachel nods, handing her rake to the next person. Leah watches her team members disappear into the truck, lights flashing and dust kicking up as they speed down the road. Her heart clenches in her chest, momentarily paralyzing her as her tablet slips from her fingers.

She wonders if this is how Dot feels each time she sends one of her friends into danger.

A volunteer picks up her tablet, sliding it back into her hands and she nods, clearing her throat before speaking to the rest of the crew.

“8, check for spot fires. 8-5, keep digging that line. We can’t let this fire jump the line,” Leah says, patting the volunteer team lead on the shoulder. The group disperses and Leah picks up her rake again.

She clicks her radio on, “Check in every five minutes. Stay safe, guys.”

“Copy that,” Rachel answers over the radio.

She inspects the line her crew had dug earlier that morning, digging her axe into the ground at a particular area of turf. The wind kicks up, a haze of smoke clogging her senses and she wipes at her mouth, clicking her radio back on.

“8 to basecamp, over.”

“Basecamp to 8, I read you,” Dot says over the radio.

“The wind is picking up. Can we get some updated drone footage?”

“Copy that, I’ll send it to your tablet and ask Weather to give you an update.”

She wipes the ashes from her face, the soot likely seeping into her skin and she longs for a hot shower. A hot shower with her hot girlfriend, who she hasn’t seen for five days and the signal on the mountains has been spotty but she’s got two bars at basecamp and that’s enough to call Fatin or sext her something hot.

(She sent Fatin a picture of a spot fire and said, hot enough for u? Fatin wrote her back a few hours later, take off ur boots then we’ll talk followed by a string of heart emojis and a very reciprocated I miss u.)

Her tablet buzzes and she checks the drone footage, biting her lip at the height of the flames – churning any piece of vegetation in its path. She clicks her radio, asking Rachel for an update.

“Two occupants and a dog. Loaded in the truck, heading back. Smoke is thick. Fire is close.”

“Fire is ten minutes from your location. Proceed with caution. Any medical required?”

“Negative,” Rachel answers.

Leah clicks off her radio, tucking her tablet back into her harness and picking up her axe once more. She jogs over to a spot fire, helping a group of volunteer firefighters put it out. She points out a root that’s underground, directing them to dig it up next when Shelby’s voice sounds over the radio.

“Command to all ground crews. Command to all ground crews,” Leah moves away from the firefighters, tilting her ear down to the radio on her harness. “Operational retreat ordered for the tenth, eleventh, and thirteenth quadrans. Repeat, all ground crews in ten, eleven, and thirteen, retreat to basecamp. Weather conditions are shifting drastically.”

She curses under her breath, looking up at the road for Rachel and her team but finding no one. She ten-fours to command, then proceeds to gather her crew and inform them of the operational retreat.

An operational retreat is a defeat. It means their position is about to be overrun, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.

“Rach, operational retreat. Where are you?” Leah holds the button to her radio, tucking away the axes into the trucks on the road. She waves the first truck away, doing a headcount as people climb into the vehicles. She breathes a sigh of relief when everyone is accounted for but Rachel, Kirin, and Eve.

“This is 8 to Reid, O’Conner, and McKenna, do you copy?” her heart thumps as she waves more trucks away, moving further down the road to the truck she drove up the mountain that morning.

“Copy. We copy, signal is getting spotty,” Rachel answers and Leah exhales, clutching the truck’s door handle.

“Operational retreat has been ordered. Please advise on location,” Leah pops the truck open. The smoke is growing thicker and thicker by the minute.

“Shit! Tree down, I repeat, tree down. Requesting immediate water drop!”

She turns the truck on, throwing it into reverse and spinning around on the dirt road. She speaks into the radio, “8 to base command, requesting immediate water drop on my location.”

“Copy 8,” Dot answers, her voice perfectly calm. “What’s going on up there?”

“Three firefighters, two civilians, and one pet trapped on a service road. Danger close, tree down in the road.”

“Rapid spread. Multiple spot fires,” Leah describes as she drives down the road, lights and sirens blaring.

“Copy that 8,” Dot answers. “Updating IC. Standby.”

“Base command to 8, water drop is 30 minutes away.”

She sees the lights through the smoke and hits the brakes, the truck sliding to a stop against the gravel. She takes the saw out of the back, starting it as she gets close to the tree – it’s a massive Redwood, covering the entire length of the road. The tip of the tree burns, the sparks and ashes threatening to spread toward them with every gust of wind.

“Stand back!” Leah shouts to Eve, placing her saw where Eve had started with the axe. Kirin is halfway through the tree on the opposite side. The chainsaw digs into the wood, cutting efficiently and the wood cracks, breaking into pieces. She turns off her saw and runs back to the truck, throwing it in the truck bed. When she turns, Eve is extinguishing a new rage of flames that spun up after she cut the tree.

“Firefighters return to your vehicle, prepare for extract,” Leah says over the radio.

She opens the driver's door, hitting the button for the wrench at the front bumper. She grabs the cable, running to the log and looping it around. She secures the hook around the cable and sprints back to the truck.

Shelby’s voice comes through next, “Operational retreat has been issued. I repeat, operational retreat ordered.”

“Status, Leah?” Dot asks with a hint of urgency and Leah doesn’t have time to respond because she’s putting the truck in reverse and hitting the button to the wrench.

The tree snaps and crunches against the ground as she steers the truck back blindly, the suspension bouncing as she smashes into potholes and fallen debris. She looks back to see Rachel hot on her tail, a few feet away from the log.

The log snags and snaps violently to the right, the truck jerking at the sudden force and she slams on the brakes. A tree falls in the forest to her left – flames enveloping the brush and Leah knows it’s a matter of minutes now before the fire overtakes them.

She can hear the radio and various voices talking across the channels but she’s too focused. She needs to get her team out.

She puts the truck in park, throws the door open and grabs the chainsaw again – only a smaller portion needs to be cut now and Leah can tow it away and it will leave enough space for Rachel to drive through. She yells when Rachel jumps out of the vehicle, chainsaw in hand.

“Rach! Get back to your truck!” Leah yells over the chainsaw, pressing it into the Redwood.

“Not without you!” Rachel yells at her, saw digging into the log. 

“Base Command to Strike Team Leader Rilke, do you copy?”

They both yell when the log breaks – she and Rachel are strong enough to lift it and toss it aside. There’s just enough room for the truck to fit through – she unhooks the wrench and sprints back to the truck, tossing the saw into the truck bed once more.

“Rachel, go first!” she says over the radio, hitting the button to recall the wrench. The truck revs and speeds past her, she spins the truck around, flooring the gas. It’s then she finally catches up on the radio calls.

“Rilke to IC, we are coming down the mountain hot. Fire is on our tails. Sirens and lights on. Confirm on radio when sighted.”

“Copy that, Rilke,” Dot says. “Get here safe. That’s an order.”

She’s barely able to keep her eyes on the lights flashing in front of her. She hears the sirens, sweat pours down her forehead and she scrubs at her eyes when it falls from her forehead.

“Visual confirmed. I have two trucks on overwatch. Eastern Ridge,” Shelby says.

“Copy that Command,” Dot answers. “Standby medics. Potential smoke inhalation.”

Her heart finally settles when the smoke clears, the air is still thick with ash but she breathes easier when she sees the lining of the camp. She pulls the truck into the designated parking lot, stepping out of the vehicle and rushing over to Rachel and her crew.

The medics take the civilians from the truck, leading them to the base camp medical tent. Rachel grips her arms, pulling her into a forceful hug.

“You idiot,” Rachel breathes, their helmets knocking. “You freaking idiot.”

“Love you too, Rach,” Leah murmurs, grinning at Kirin and Eve over Rachel’s shoulder. “I wasn’t leaving without you.”

Rachel huffs, breaking the hug to pull her toward the camp. She debriefs with Dot in the command tent, she’s ordered to remain with the basecamp until her shift finishes in a couple of hours. Leah begrudgingly accepts the order (as if she has a choice). She’s re-stocking the O2 canisters into a rig when Dot comes to find her.

“Hey Leah,” Dot looks pensive, her fingers fiddling with her wildland gear. Leah packs the last canister into the rig, shutting the door and dusting her hands off her pants. Dot doesn’t say anything and Leah tilts her head, wondering if it’s something to do with her ten hours as an acting Lieutenant. “We, uh, got a call.”

Leah nods, waiting for Dot to continue.

“Back home. In town,” Dot clears her throat, steadying herself. “A gas leak was reported at 20 Duncan Court –

Fatin.

“- no additional information right now. Captain Bishop is on the scene – 

Fatin.

She says it aloud this time.

“Fatin.”

“We don’t know anything,” Dot lifts her hands into the air, taking a step toward Leah like she’s a frightened deer. “There’s a rig going back for additional supplies right now. It’s yours. Go.”

She nods, taking off into a sprint to the tents that are set up in neat rows. She bursts into the tent, throwing her things into her pack and hefting it over her shoulder. Her boots hit the ground, feeling heavy and lifeless all at once.

Fatin.

She climbs into the rig, hastily securing the seatbelt before pulling the headset over her ears.

“Leah, it’s Shelby. Switch to private channel 12.”

“Copy,” her hand shakes as she twists the knob on her headset. “Go on 12.”

“I heard about the call,” Shelby says, her voice soft. “We don’t know anything. I’ve tried calling but there’s no answer. She could be at home.”

“She’s working,” Leah says, glancing at her watch. Her knee bounces. “I know she’s working. She told me she was working.”

“Listen, Toni and Martha are heading over right now.”

“Shelby – I can’t. She –

“Do not go there, Leah Rilke,” Shelby says firmly and Leah sits up a little straighter, as they were at a briefing. “Stay in the present. You’re a firefighter. You know what these scenarios are like.”

She nods, curling her fingers into the fabric of her pants. She’s been to so many scenes where loved ones rush in – panicked and distraught because they can’t reach their person, and their person just left their phone on the counter before evacuating. She knows Fatin is smart and resourceful, she’s been read the procedural manual by Leah on nights when Fatin can’t sleep because work has kept her up.

It’s twenty minutes before they reach the town, an additional ten before she’s dropped off on the road and running through a crowd of people gathered beyond the parameter. She calls for Fatin, twisting around in the crowd but she can’t find her – Leah’s heart leaps into her throat.

What if she’s being taken to the hospital?

“Leah!” Toni yells, lifting the yellow caution tape a few yards away.

“Where is she?” Leah asks, clutching Toni’s arm.

“Martha found her – she’s fine, Leah, breathe,” Toni lays her hands on her shoulders. “She’s fine.”

“She’s okay?” Leah’s throat constricts, her chest wheezing.

“She’s the one that called it in,” Toni’s lips turn into a gentle smile. “Guess you really are rubbing off on her.”

“Fuck,” Leah breathes, her eyes stinging.

“Leah!”

She spins around, finding Fatin rushing forward from Martha’s side and it only takes three steps to have her arms wrapped around Fatin tightly. She inhales the familiar flowery scent, her hands clench into the blouse Fatin is wearing and she pushes her face further into Fatin’s neck.

“I’m okay,” Fatin murmurs, clutching at her jacket. She repeats the phrase again and Leah nods, loosening her grip and pulling back an inch. Fatin smiles at her, brilliant and relieved – Leah can’t help but kiss her.

“You’re okay,” Leah whispers when they part, brushing her thumbs over Fatin’s cheeks.

“I’m okay,” Fatin nods, brushing her fingers over her forehead and tucking away errand strands of her hair. “You look exhausted, baby.”

Leah nods, curling her soot-covered hand around Fatin’s wrist and squeezing gently. “I missed you.”

“Let’s go home, cutie,” Fatin kisses the corner of her mouth, moving her hands to link their fingers together and pull her toward the parking lot.

She hugs Martha and Toni before getting into Fatin’s car, thanking them for coming on their time off. She throws her pack into the back of Fatin’s car, sinking into the fine leather seats. She grimaces when a clump of dirt falls from her boot, littering the floor. Her hands are filthy, and a quick glance in the mirror confirms her face also resembles that.

“What?” Fatin asks, reaching across the console for her head.

“I’m getting your nice car all dirty,” Leah holds Fatin’s hand loosely, mindful of the dirt. “Pretty sure I smell terrible too.”

Fatin chuckles, gripping her hand firmly and glancing over at her during a red light. “I don’t mind. I actually kind of like it.”

“You do?” Leah asks, doing her best not to shuffle her boots against the floor mat.

“It’s really sexy of you, actually,” Fatin shrugs a shoulder, squeezing her hand. “My sexy firefighter fresh off the mountains. She couldn’t wait to get home to me because she knows I’ll shower with her anyway.”

“I might need two showers,” Leah points out, scratching at her heated cheek. “And the story is a little different.”

“Let me have my fantasy, baby.”

They run the hot water tank dry and Fatin does confirm it will take two showers plus a prewash. Fatin cooks them a late dinner while she leans over the sink in the bathroom, scrubbing the dirt away from her nails. Her hands are red and raw by the time she’s finished, pulling on a pair of boxers and one of her many FD shirts before joining Fatin in the kitchen.

Fatin is dishing a hearty plate of stir-fry out when she arrives, sinking into the barstool and grabbing her fork. Her mouth waters – she hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and lately, the meals on the mountain have been pre-packaged and extra tasteless.

Fatin brushes a palm across her back, sitting on the stool next to her and picking up her fork. They chat between bites; Leah tells her about the progress of the wildfire and her week in the mountain. She doesn’t talk about today’s event though, mostly because she knows Fatin will be upset she did some of that quote-unquote heroic shit, and Leah wants to explore the possibility of a nap with Fatin before they go there.

“There’s more,” Fatin tips her head toward the stove. “I made lots.”

Leah nods, gripping her plate and going back for seconds. She’s scooping the food onto her plate when Fatin says, “There’s beer for you in the fridge, too.”

She grins, shifting her plate into one hand and reaching for a beer with the other. It’s her favourite kind too – Fatin must have bought some after Leah mentioned she likes to drink a beer when she comes home after fighting wildfire. She kisses Fatin on the cheek when she gets back to her seat, murmuring a thank you, baby. Fatin hums and settles her hand in Leah’s lap for the rest of their meal.

Leah does the dishes, much to Fatin’s insistence that she doesn’t need to do anything but Leah just shakes her head and collects the pan on the stove and dumps it into the soapy sink. Fatin exhaled, a hint of annoyance on her features and Leah raised a soapy hand, tapping Fatin on the nose and leaving a trail of bubbles. Fatin rolled her eyes, teeth sinking into her lip in an attempt to halt the progress of her grin.

Fatin takes her hand once the dishes are dried and put away, leading her to the couch where she falls back against the comfy cushions and welcomes Fatin’s body atop hers. She pulls the plushy blanket from the back of the couch, spreading it over their bodies.

Fatin hums, a warm kiss is pressed to her neck and Leah slips her hand beneath the oversized t-shirt Fatin was wearing, reacquainting herself with the feel of Fatin’s smooth skin. She nestles her nose into the crown of Fatin’s head, inhaling the familiar expensive shampoo that Fatin has also started purchasing for her.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Fatin’s lips move against her neck, her hand curled into the collar of her t-shirt. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Leah murmurs against her head, securing her other arm over Fatin’s back and squeezing her close. “Happy you’re safe.”

“Didn’t Toni tell you,” Fatin leans back from her and Leah turns her head to meet Fatin’s gaze. “I called it in.”

“She did mention that,” Leah grins, swirling her fingers over Fatin’s lower back. “I guess you have been listening to my procedural bedtime reads.”

“It haunts me sometimes, I swear,” Fatin says and they share a laugh. “I was reading it last night when I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“What part did you get to?”

“Search and Rescue.”

“Wow,” Leah’s brows shift upward. They had only been on different indoor fires when she left. That’s an entire chapter over. “So, you read medical last night too?”

“Yeah,” Fatin brushes her fingers against her neck. “I feel like an expert now, so I think we can do at-home treatments from now on, baby.”

“As opposed to…,” Leah trails off mischievously, knowing exactly who Fatin is referring to.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Fatin huffs, nipping at her jaw. “Hannah can keep her claws off you.”

“I much prefer your claws, darling.”

“Good answer,” Fatin grins, cupping her face and pulling her in for a kiss. She yawns against her will when they part and Fatin chuckles, shifting back into the crook of her neck and laying her hand on her chest. She kisses the top of Fatin’s head, shifting her legs beneath the blanket and her eyelids feel heavy, shuttering closed at the methodical rise and fall of Fatin’s chest against her.

She wakes a few hours later, the sun is long gone and the weight on her chest is gone too. She frowns, shifting beneath the blanket and rubbing at her eyes.

“Over here, cutie,” Fatin says, tucked into the corner with her laptop open and her hair up in a bun. Leah moves from the couch, taking in the soft glow of her girlfriend beneath the lamp. She’s wrapped in one of her FD sweaters with a cup of tea and a box of Oreos to her left. Leah drops down into the chair, leaning over to kiss Fatin on the cheek and reach for the Oreos.

“What ’cha working on?” Leah asks, shoving a cookie into her mouth.

“Just writing up a report,” Fatin hits a few buttons on her laptop before closing the lid. “About my guitar kid.”

“He’s a beast,” Leah nods, reaching for another Oreo. Fatin chuckles, bringing her tea to her lips. She splits the Oreo in two, offering the non-frosted side to Fatin.

“Leah, that’s a crime – I’m not taking your crumbs. It’s frosting or bust,” Fatin flicks her hand away. Leah shrugs, tossing the cookies into her mouth and digging into the package for another. She frowns when there isn’t one, looking at Fatin apologetically as she chews the last Oreo.

She swallows roughly, wiping her lips on the back of her hand. “Sorry, babe.”

Fatin snorts, pushing the empty packaging toward her. “As long as you’re satisfied, baby.”

“I’ll Venmo you once I find my phone,” Leah says, closing her hands around the packaging. “For groceries. And for the beer. And the scented laundry beads. And the shampoo.”

And the conditioner – because apparently, it’s a two-step process.

“I should pay you monthly. I’m always using your stuff,” Leah frowns, patting her pockets for her phone. “Can you call my phone? It might be in my pack.”

“You mean rent?” Fatin says, her lips lifting into a smile.

Leah nods as Fatin picks up her phone, looking out toward the living room area. “How much should I send? Six-hundred? I don’t hear anything,” Leah twists in her chair, moving toward her pack that was dumped at the door. Fatin was kind enough to throw her gear in the wash while she was showering but she steels herself for the smell of a week’s worth of clothes in her pack.

“Are you moving in? Four hundred is fine.”

Leah nods, opening up her pack and dumping the contents out on the floor. Aha! That’s where her Cheetos went! Leah opens the bag, taking a few chips and throwing them in her mouth.

“Baby, are you still hungry? There are leftovers,” Fatin holds her phone out, showing Leah the dialling screen.

“Just needed a snack,” Leah chews, rolling the bag shut and setting it out on the floor. “Four hundred is too low. I know that conditioner is one hundred dollars. I’m basically here all the time, I should give you back pay, too.”

“I’m not worried about that, Leah.”

“Can you call it again? I think it’s on vibrate.” Leah continues digging through her stuff, wringing out a pair of pants and tossing them aside when nothing falls. “Eight-hundred?”

“Baby, you’re a terrible negotiator. The price is supposed to go down.”

“But you’re my girlfriend,” Leah argues, shaking out a fleece. “And you buy me nice things like beer and those protein bars I like.”

“They taste like cardboard,” Fatin wrinkles her nose and Leah chucks a dirty sock at her, earning a shriek. “But you have wicked abs, so, they must be good for something.”

“Nine-fifty?” Leah tilts her head, holding her shower kit to her ear. “Your electric bill must be wild in the summer running the A/C.”

“You’re just so hot,” Fatin winks at her, tapping the dial button on her phone again. “I’ve gotta cool you down somehow, but baby, I think you’re getting off track.”

“I’m going to pay you, Fatin,” Leah says, digging through her fleece – the vibration is strong and she pulls her phone from her pocket, thrusting it into the air. “Got it!”

“Why is my name still Princess in your phone?”

“Because you’re my Princess,” Leah says proudly, blowing her a kiss with Cheeto-covered fingers. “And look,” she shows the contact profile to Fatin. “It’s Princess with a pretty pink bow and cute face with tiny hearts on it.”

“How unsurprising of you,” Fatin rolls her eyes, tucking her phone away.

Leah slides back into her seat, bringing her half-eaten Cheeto bag with her and offering some to Fatin. She reads her notifications as she settles back into the chair, dismissing the missed calls from Fatin. She’s returning text messages to Dot and Shelby when their prior conversation pops back into her head.

“Oh, the money,” Leah puts her phone down, reaching for Fatin’s arm. “One thousand, final offer.”

Fatin sighs, leaning her forehead into her hand. Leah taps her fingers along Fatin’s wrist, lifting her brows expectantly, “Totally not my final offer, by the way, I just used one of those scare tactics from that Pawn Star show we watch.”

Fatin’s sigh deepens and she shakes her head, Leah tugs at her wrist, bringing the back of Fatin’s hand to her lips.

“I’ll Venmo it to you right now,” Leah picked up her phone with her other hand, unlocking it and navigating to the app. “One thousand?”

“Leah, honey, slow down,” Fatin tangles their fingers together and pulls her attention from the phone. Leah frowns, opening her mouth to speak but Fatin shakes her head, placing a finger against her lips. “Yes, you can send me money. Eight hundred is more than enough, but I’m going to ask you a very important question, okay?”

Leah nods enthusiastically, gripping Fatin’s hand.

“Are you moving in?”

Leah blinks, her heart somersaulting in her chest. She squeezes Fatin’s hand again to make sure she’s still alive.

“Do you – are you – do you want me to?” Leah stammers, her grip tightening on Fatin’s hand.

“You were prepared to give me one thousand dollars a month without solidifying that fact first?” Fatin tilts her head, eyeing her playfully.

“I’d give you whatever you wanted,” Leah answers, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Fatin bites her lip, inching closer to the edge of her chair. “Baby, I’m going to need you to confirm you’re moving in before I climb into your lap and get full of Cheeto dust.”

“I basically live here,” Leah’s brows furrow, glancing over to her windbreaker on the coat rack, her fleece hanging over the back of the lounger. Her beer in the fridge and her WNBA league pass signed in on Fatin’s TV.

“Mmhmm,” Fatin nods, walking her fingers up her forearm.

“I take out the trash and fold the laundry because you hate folding laundry.”

“True, honey. I could break a nail,” Fatin taps her bicep. “Keep going, baby, your brain is almost there.”

“And my books are on the right nightstand with my old iced coffee.”

“That I keep telling you to throw out, but yes, cutie, continue.”

“And I hate sleeping without you and I love coming home to you.”

“Ditto, bitch.”

“Fatin,” Leah blinks, gripping her forearm with sudden clarity. “I’ve been living here for like two months.”

Fatin chuckles tilting her head and nodding slowly, as if she figured this out long before Leah did – and that’s, well, that’s fair. Leah blinks again, tugging at Fatin’s arm.

“Fatin, I owe you like two months of rent – plus inflation, hold on, let me find my credit card and just, like, buy whatever you –

“Leah, honey,” Fatin shakes her head, pulling on her arm when she pushes out of the chair. “Breathe.”

Leah nods, matching her inhale with Fatin’s and watching her lips blow the breath out. She repeats it a couple of times and Fatin leans up to wrap her arms around her neck loosely, pressing their bodies together. Leah takes another deep breath, sliding her palms beneath the sweater Fatin threw on – she nods again.

“Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

Fatin’s face lights up and she careens up into a kiss, her fingers tangling in Leah’s hair. She clutches at Fatin’s sides, throwing herself into the kiss with every fibre of her being. She twists them around, walking Fatin back toward the wall and pressing her there gently, groaning when Fatin takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You taste like Oreos,” Fatin muses, their noses brushing.

“I’ll use my fingers,” Leah suggests, earning a soft snort from Fatin.

“Getting ahead of yourself, cutie,” Fatin murmurs, her voice low and teasing. Leah nips at her bottom lip, inching her fingers beneath the silky sleep shorts Fatin wears. “You won’t be doing anything until you brush your teeth and wash your hands.”

Leah frowns, playing with the strings of Fatin’s shorts. “What if I use my other hand?”

“Saw you eat Cheetos with one, and Oreos with the other.”

“You had Oreos too.”

“And I will brush my teeth like a good girl before going down on my girlfriend,” Fatin pokes a finger into her chest.

Leah pouts, shifting off the wall to trek over to the bathroom.

“I’ll call you a good girl and bend you over the sink if you behave.”

Leah stumbles, gripping the back of the couch and her knee whacks into the floor painfully. Fatin’s laughter envelopes her, building her back up and Leah pushes to her feet shakily, twisting back to watch her girlfriend strut toward her – sweater thrown to the floor and her shirt halfway up her torso.

Leah gulps, following the sway of Fatin’s hips into the washroom.

(Fatin complains, fifteen minutes later, when Leah’s cunt still throbs from Fatin’s fingers - that her hands are chilly and Leah says I just can’t please you. Fatin replied with, we both know that isn’t true. Leah huffed against her chest, sucking at the underside of Fatin’s breast. Fatin’s fingers threaded through her hair, a sharp tug and dark eyes locked with hers. She said, use your tongue to warm me up. Leah moaned, kissing her way to Fatin’s folds where she spent thirty minutes warming her up.)

She used to love wildfire season.

She loved the challenge, the adrenaline rush – the isolation from town when things with her latest crush went sideways. She loved the nights around a camp with her fellow firefighters and she loved making a difference for her community.

She still loves those things…just not as much anymore.

She spends more time thinking about going home – about dinners with Fatin and sleepy Sunday morning trips to the Farmers Market. She thinks about date nights and family dinners at the firehouse with Fatin on her left and Rachel on her right.

She worries too, about what could happen to her and how it would affect Fatin. She takes extra care to put on her gear now and inspects it finely at the end of every shift. She changed her emergency contact to Fatin Jadmani on July 28^th, and Rachel swore she wasn’t crying when Leah asked her how she would feel about it.

The first two weeks of August are uncharacteristically wet – something Fatin was quick to tease her for when she commented on it following a briefing at the firehouse. She still sneaks Fatin into the firehouse when she’s on town duty as opposed to wildfire duty – her locker has a few of Fatin’s things. Like a spare shower kit, a small bottle of perfume that Leah squirts on her clothes when she’s lonely, and a pair of clothes for the mornings that follow the nights when Leah begs her to stay – with her tongue between her legs.

Sometimes Fatin just sleeps with her and most times, that’s all Leah needs to get through the night. Sometimes Fatin will just appear on a night shift in the middle of the week and slide into her bed, kind of like tonight.

Princess 🎀🥰

Can’t sleep

Leah

Did u try tea? And the meditation playlist?

Princess 🎀🥰

Yes

I’m not even horny

Like I don’t understand

Leah

Wow

Princess 🎀🥰

Ikr. Might need to see a doctor

Leah

I’m a paramedic level 4 on paper

Princess 🎀🥰

R u offering to examine me cutie?

Nvm I’m horny

Leah

Phew. Glad that isn’t the problem.

Princess 🎀🥰

Leah 😢

Leah

Come here

Everyone is asleep except for Kirin and if you bring him a Big Mac he won’t say a peep

Princess 🎀🥰

Omw

Fatin arrives thirty minutes later, with a McDonald’s bag for Kirin who zips his fingers across his lips, and two fresh apple turnovers for them. They curl up in the bed, Leah leaning against the headboard and Fatin between her legs. She dusts her fingers off on a napkin, tossing it into the takeout bag on the floor before securing her arms around Fatin’s waist.

She nudges her lips against Fatin’s neck, holding them there.

“That’s better,” Fatin sighs, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “You’re nice and warm, like a personal heater.”

“I was working out when you texted,” Leah nestles her nose against the spot where Fatin sprays her perfume.

“Mm,” Fatin hums, tracing her fingers over her bare arms and scratching her biceps. “I know. I told you I was happy to watch.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well lately,” Leah murmurs, spreading her palm over Fatin’s stomach. “I’m worried about you.”

Fatin sighs, tilting her head back on her shoulder to stare up at the ceiling. They have tried a lot of things over the last few weeks – Leah has spent a day down a rabbit hole of sleep techniques and they have tried everything from lavender pillows to breathing exercises and early morning. To no-screen nights and cutting out caffeine completely. Fatin says the only thing that helps her sleep are orgasms (multiple, cutie) and Leah misses her caffeine, so…she entertains the last bit.

“I don’t like it when you’re in the mountains,” Fatin says quietly, threading their fingers together over her stomach. “It makes me feel…powerless.”

“I can try to check in more.”

“I know it’s your job, and you’re damn good at it, baby, I just…” Fatin sighs, shaking her head and her voice trails off. Leah kisses her cheek, nosing at the soft skin just below her hairline. “Does anyone need music therapy up there? I can volunteer as tribute.”

“Nobody is dying up there, Fatin,” Leah squeezes her tightly, hooking their ankles together.

“Four have died in two years,” Fatin says, her throat working as she swallows. “I shouldn’t have, but I was watching these stupid reels – you know the ones with the robot voices? Fuck, I hate those, anyways, four firefighters dead in two years fighting wildfires in Northern Cal alone.”

“You’re right, baby. You shouldn’t watch those.”

“It’s the fucking algorithm. Now those tear-jerking military coming-home videos are all over my feed. The algorithm thinks I’m a para-military structure simp. I’m getting ads for the Republican party now.”

“I’m not dying,” Leah says, holding Fatin against her firmly. “And I always fight like hell to get home to you.”

Fatin sniffles and she turns her face into her neck, her body twisting and Leah cradles Fatin against her chest – arm wrapped around her legs and another curled around her back, holding the back of her head.

“Promise,” Fatin breathes shakily, her tears coating Leah’s neck.

“I promise,” Leah swears, whispering it against Fatin’s head over and over.

The PA chimes and Fatin’s limbs tighten around her body, Leah kisses her forehead and gently angles Fatin back against the bed.

“Structure Fire. 102 DuPont Road. Engine 21, Ladder 21, Aid Car 21 requested.”

“I’ll be back soon, baby, I promise,” Leah murmurs, kissing Fatin softly. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be back.”

Fatin nods, sniffling as she pulls the blanket up over her chest. Leah dresses in her gear quickly, she’s threading her arms through her fire coat and reaching for the door when she says, “Be back soon. Love you.”

It doesn’t register that she’s said love you to Fatin until she’s aiming her hose at a swath of flames blistering out of an old farmhouse window. She tells Rachel about it two hours later, when they are clearing debris when nothing but charred ground crunches beneath her boots.

Rachel gasps, dropping her axe to the ground and punching her in the shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you, Leah. It’s been hell watching you drool over that city-slicker for months now.”

“I don’t drool,” Leah says defiantly, kicking a burnt piece of wood toward Rachel.

“Fatin sent me a pic. You drool when you sleep and whenever she walks into a room.”

“I can’t believe she would do that,” Leah’s jaw hangs open, thinking of the cute photos she takes of Fatin while she’s cooking or napping on the couch in her clothes.

“She sent me one of your disgusting ab-slut pictures. She said it was by mistake,” Rachel shakes her head, grimacing. “But I don’t believe her.”

“Hey!” Leah puts her hands on her hips. “My abs are great!”

They get back to the firehouse for the end of her shift. She tosses her coat into the laundry pile, turning to head toward the sleep rooms for Fatin when distinctive heels click on the concrete and Leah grins, turning to the sound in the truck bay.

“Hi cutie,” Fatin tilts her head, a soft grin on her face. She’s freshly showered and dressed for work. She looks better than she has in days and Leah smiles, wrapping an arm around her waist and dipping down to kiss her. Fatin slips her fingers beneath the material of her suspenders, pulling at the stretchy fabric to keep their lips pressed together when Leah tries to pull away the first time.

“Good call?” Fatin asks when they part, her fingers working to peel the sweaty strands of hair from her face. Leah nods, humming at Fatin’s touch. “Breakfast before I go?”

Leah smiles and leads her to the cafeteria. It’s a mix of night-shift and day-shift crew. Leah spots a few spouses and kids scattered throughout the area. She’s fortunate to have a leadership team that supports this kind of family time during meals.

She loads her plate with Dot’s famous breakfast hash, along with one of Martha’s bran muffins and a cup of yogurt. Fatin squirts the ketchup on her hash – she doesn’t even curl her lip anymore and Leah’s heart nearly combusts.

“Maybe we should go out of town this weekend,” Leah suggests casually, stirring her yogurt around. “Get away for a few days.”

“Are you going to take a vacation day, Ms. Rilke?” Fatin’s hand flies to her chest and Leah rolls her eyes, bringing a spoonful of yogurt to her lips. “Rumour has it, you haven’t taken a vacation day in two years.”

“Who told you that?” Leah narrows her eyes, glancing toward her Captain behind the grill.

“I have two sources,” Fatin holds up two fingers, reaching for her bran muffing with her free hand. “And I won’t be compelled to tell you either.”

“This is Rachel’s revenge for revoking her access to my league pass, isn’t it?”

“Baby, a good reporter does not reveal her sources.”

“Dot’s one to talk. She sucks a leisure. She can’t even take a day off properly.”

“Now you’re just projecting.”

“I’m going to take two vacation days, just to spite them.”

“That’s the spirit, cutie.”

She calls Hannah on her first vacation day.

At eleven on the nose because she remembers that’s when her breaks are. Hannah answers on the second ring.

“Hi, Leah,” Hannah answers.

“Hi, is this a good time?”

“Yeah. I’m just on my break.”

“Right, yeah. I thought so,” Leah clears her throat, picking at the plushy blanket she and Fatin use all the time on the couch. “I, um, wanted to clear things up, I guess.”

“Yeah. Uh, I think it’s time we did that,” Hannah exhales. “Can I…Can I go first?”

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry. For how I treated you. I was closeted – my entire life, really. I wasn’t able to be myself, like med school wasn’t the place for that and my parents barely tolerated it – me, being gay, I mean. My therapist says I should start labelling things to confront my internalized homophobia – shit, I – sorry. This is terrible.”

“No, no,” Leah shakes her head. “It’s good to hear you say those things, and I’m glad you’re getting support.”

“And none of that is an excuse for how I treated you. Hot and cold. Like you were something I could turn on and off.”

“Ghosting me,” Leah mutters, curling her fingers around the threads. “A lot.”

“Ghosting you,” Hannah admits openly. “I hurt you. A lot. And I’m sorry, Leah.”

“Yeah,” Leah nods, biting her lip. “You did.”

Hannah is quiet for a moment, then a shuddering breath bleeding through the line. “And I was unfairly jealous when you started showing up around town with Fatin. I think I liked you a lot, maybe even loved you, but I was too much of a coward.”

“She makes you happy,” Hannah says softly. “I can see that. Anyone can see that. And I’m happy for you. Because you deserve that, Leah.”

“She’s, like, the love of my life, I think,” Leah swallows, her brows drawn tightly. “I just love her, so much, you know?”

“I know,” Hannah replies with a hint of laughter. “Anyone can see that, too.”

“I’m really glad we talked,” Leah says, taking a deep breath. “I needed to do this.”

“I’m glad you called.”

“Bye, Hannah.”

“Bye, Leah.”

“I just think you should tell me where we’re going,” Fatin muttered later that afternoon, crossing her arms and sinking into her seat. “It’s giving me major anxiety that I don’t know if I packed the right outfits and accessories.”

“Is that why there are three full-sized suitcases in the back?” Leah throws her thumb toward the bed of her truck.

“Baby, if we’re taking the truck that means somewhere off-road ish,” Fatin lifts a finger. “So, I’ve packed light pants, shorts, sweaters, some tank tops, and a swimsuit because you told me I would need one.”

“Don’t forget ten pairs of shoes,” Leah grumbles, adjusting the air on her console. Fatin likes her side warm and Leah likes her side cool.

“For any terrain, baby,” Fatin reaches for her hand, pulling it to her lips briefly. “And don’t forget one of those suitcases is yours.”

“You wouldn’t let me pack,” Leah sighs, glancing toward her smirking girlfriend. “I don’t need all that stuff.”

“Oh honey,” Fatin drawls, nipping at her knuckle. “Trust me, you will.”

She drives them upstate, four hours away from town to a gorgeous resort on a lakefront. Fatin grips her hand tightly as they wind their way through the trees and beyond the small cottages spread out on either side of the road.

“Leah…” Fatin trails off, her jaw slack and eyes glazed over when they park at the main lodge.

It’s a luxurious place by Leah’s standards, something she knows Fatin would appreciate despite the location in the woods. The main lodge is a massive log cabin on a grand scale, two stories high with a wrap-around porch and authentic log beams supporting the A-frame style of the roof.

She chuckles softly when Fatin doesn’t move, still etched in her seat despite the truck being in park for nearly three minutes. She pops her door open, rounding the back to take their suitcases out. It’s then that Fatin joins her, hand on her arm as she looks up at the property.

“It’s beautiful,” Fatin says finally, squeezing her arm. Leah grins, shutting the tailgate and threading her fingers through Fatin’s, leading her to reception.

Fatin doesn’t give her a moment to explore the lakeside log cabin they are staying in. Leah doesn’t even get to do her typical safety checks – Fatin pushes her into the nearest surface (a light grey sofa) that sits in front of a large electric fireplace and promptly makes her forget every single safety check.

It’s later when Leah’s stomach grumbles from her place atop Fatin and they both laugh, shoulders shaking because it’s just so her. Leah drops her forehead onto Fatin’s shoulder and moves her hands back to Fatin’s hips, squeezing them apologetically.

“I collect that as an IOU, baby,” Fatin taps her nose, pushing from the couch and taking Leah with her. “Let’s go find you some food.”

Fatin orders some sort of vegetarian plate with beets and goat cheese, while Leah enjoys a plate of loaded nachos. Fatin explains what all the extra cutlery on the table means when Leah’s fingers brush the smaller fork next to the larger fork. She also explains that Leah is supposed to cover her lap with the large cloth napkin and Leah quickly does that, earning a wink from her girlfriend.

When Leah suggests a hike, Fatin wiggles in her seat excitedly and declares they need to return to their cabin for an outfit change. Fatin emerges from the bedroom twenty minutes later, hanging from the doorway and extending a long, smooth leg toward Leah.

She’s dressed in high-waisted camo shorts, and light brown hiking boots with pink striped socks rolled down. A black sports bra beneath the matching camo denim jacket and a pink leopard printed headband on her head with her hair done up in a pretty bun.

Leah snorts when Fatin struts closer, laying her arms on her shoulders and swaying into her.

“How do I look?” Fatin asks with a gleam in her eye, she already knows what Leah will say, but Leah tells her anyway.

“Gorgeous.”

“Hm,” Fatin trails her finger down the side of her neck, pushing her finger beneath the tank top she’s wearing, toying with the material of her sports bra. “Think you can spare a minute to let me suck a hickey on your neck?”

“I can spare two minutes,” Leah nods, tilting her neck.

Thirty minutes later, with a fresh set of clothes for Leah and three hickeys on her neck, they are in the woods and walking through a towering path of big leaf maples when Fatin says, “I think it’s important that we cover every inch of this trail.”

Leah fishes the map out of her back pocket, shaking it loose and turning it around. It’s difficult to read a map with one hand, but she doesn’t want to let go of Fatin’s hand so she twists her head at an odd angle until she finds their position on the map.

“Same. It’s important to know where our exits are and how far away we are from the resort.”

“Sure,” Fatin nods, a hint of amusement in her tone. “For that, baby.”

Leah frowns, pushing the map into the back pocket of her shorts. “What other reason is there?”

“Oh honey,” Fatin squeezes her hand. “You’re fucking me in this forest.”

Leah flushes, her feet scuffling along the trail and Fatin chuckles, pulling her along the path. She takes it very seriously once she’s recovered – pulling the map out again to find a small pocket of water inland to the east. She doesn’t want to just push Fatin up against some tree – she wants it to be nice, memorable, and far enough away from the main trail because she isn’t sure she could survive getting kicked out of the resort for sex in the woods.

Fatin, on the other hand, would wear it proudly on her chest and tell everyone at home.

“Baby,” Fatin tugs on her hand a little but Leah shakes her head, leading her further into the woods. “I know you’re, like, trained for the forest, or whatever, but I am not, and I’m more interested in my – holy shit, Leah.”

Two columns of water rush over mosey-covered rocks, falling about twenty feet into the large creek. Leah grins, taking off her shoes and peeling her socks off. Fatin stares at her, her dark eyes roaming over her body as Leah shrugs out of her tank top and pushes her shorts down. She pushes her hair up as she approaches the side of the creek; she looks over her shoulder at Fatin – scrambling out of her clothes too and Leah sighs, setting her foot on a rock but it’s slippery and then she’s falling.

“Shit! Leah!” Fatin yells when she surfaces from the water, her girlfriend half-dressed and wide-eyed at the edge of the creek. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Leah answers, wiping the water out of her face and swimming closer to the edge. “Come on, the water’s nice.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Fatin tilts her chin up, hands bunched on her hips. “You should have told me to wear my swimsuit. I have a sexy bikini for you, too.”

Leah shrugs, pushing off a rock to float on her back. The trees look even larger from this view, just giving the sun enough space to shine through. Water splashes over her and she grins, twisting her legs back underneath and swimming over to Fatin.

“It’s cold,” Fatin grumps, reaching for her shoulders. Leah kisses her cheek, pulling Fatin’s legs around her waist. “Doesn’t it freak you out? The muddy bottom and weird ass shit floating around.”

Leah shakes her head, wading a little closer to the waterfall and Fatin’s limbs tighten around her. She takes them to the sunnier side of the creek, brushing her lips over Fatin’s shoulders. Fatin hums when the sun hits her back and she plays with Leah’s wet ponytail, twirling it around her fingers gently.

“Are you missing your firetrucks yet?” Fatin asks, walking her fingers along Leah’s neck. Leah shakes her head, kissing the corner of Fatin’s lips. “No? Not even your precious hoses?”

“I’m good here,” Leah says, tucking her face into Fatin’s neck.

Fatin scratches her fingers along her hairline, lulling her senses and Leah shifts Fatin against a large rock – the curdling water brushing past their chest and Fatin shivers.

“You said something the other day,” Fatin says quietly, her voice just higher than the waterfall. “When you left the firehouse for that call on DuPont Road.”

Be back soon. Love you.

“And it felt so natural like you had said it so many times before,” Fatin taps her fingers along Leah’s neck. “And I said back when you left, and then I went to bed.”

“You said it back?” Leah pulls back, clutching at Fatin’s back.

Fatin nods, lifting her chin to press a kiss between her brows. “And then I shot out of bed like my ass was on fire thirty seconds later because you said you loved me.”

Leah’s cheeks heat, memorizing the shape of Fatin’s lips of the words.

“So, you can say it again,” Fatin tips their foreheads together, tightening her arms around Leah’s shoulders. “Because I’ll say it back.”

“Fatin, I…” Leah licks her lips, her fingers digging in over Fatin’s hips. “Are you sure?”

Fatin nods against her, cupping her face. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Leah inhales, nudging her lips over Fatin’s.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She exhales, kissing Fatin with every ounce of relief she has.

She presses Fatin against the wall, sliding her hands beneath the pretty sundress Fatin wore to dinner the following evening. Fatin teased her over dessert, with a finger running over her wrist – teasing her pulse when she said call me princess tonight?

Leah left her chocolate torte, fork clattering against the plate as she shot up from the table and asked for the bill.

She tugs the zipper between her fingers, trailing the exposed back with her opposite hand until the dress pools at Fatin’s heels and Leah groans, taking Fatin’s lips in a searing kiss. Fatin’s fingers twist in her button-up, pulling at the material when the button snags and Leah sweeps her tongue over Fatin’s bottom lip.

Fatin’s hands clench in the material of her shirt and Leah hooks a hand around her thigh, hoisting it over her hip. Fatin exhales loudly, tilting her head when Leah presses kisses along her jaw and attaches her lips to the junction of her neck and jaw, sucking roughly.

“Baby,” Fatin tugs at the collar of her shirt and Leah finds her pulse, using her teeth there. Fatin moans softly, sinking against the wall and Leah grazes her fingers over the pretty pink lace at Fatin’s hip.

“Love you,” Leah murmurs against her collarbone, running her tongue over the delicate imprint of Fatin’s bones. “Everything about you.”

“Ditto, bitch,” Fatin says, her voice low but teasing.

“Turn around,” Leah nips at her neck. “Hands out against the wall.”

Fatin shudders, her nails digging in beyond the fabric of her shirt, “Oh fuck – okay. You’re so hot, fuck me.”

“Turn around,” Leah grips her hip, pulling on it slightly. “And I will.”

“Jesus, okay,” Fatin exhales, turning around and placing her palms on the wall. Leah runs her hands over Fatin’s curves, tangling her fingers in the lace and tugging – earning a gasp from Fatin.

She knocks Fatin’s feet apart, humming in appreciation at the curve of her body. She presses her lips to Fatin’s spine, nipping at the skin as her hand slides around the lace, dipping the tips of her fingers in and swirling them in wetness. She drags her fingers over Fatin’s clit, passing them in tight circles and Fatin moans – arching her back and Leah sinks her teeth into Fatin’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” Fatin gasps, her hand drops from the wall to squeeze at Leah’s wrist – urging her on, but Leah stops. Taking her hands off Fatin and tilting her head, the soft glow of the lighting illuminating the smooth skin and delicious curves.

Fatin makes a noise, twisting her head and Leah lifts a brow, challenging Fatin.

Fatin huffs, her eyes rolling but she places her hands back on the wall – furthering the arch of her back and Leah’s hand snaps forward, her palm meeting Fatin’s ass and Fatin gasps, hands scrambling against the wall.

“Fuck – fuck me. Okay, baby – yeah, I’ll behave,” Fatin nods, breathing hard. “I’ll behave.”

“Good girl,” Leah coos, reaching for her girlfriend again.

To nobody’s surprise, Fatin doesn’t behave.

In the back of her mind, she is quite certain that Fatin has done this purpose and the thought makes Leah a little hot (a lot, actually), because Fatin packed the extra rope Leah uses when she wants to practice her knots at home (innocently, she swears, but Fatin has corrupted that and now, the rope sits in her nightstand next to the strap – Fatin always says practice on me, cutie.). Leah still remembers the first time when Fatin suggested it – her cheeks burned for two days and she tripped so many times while on shift that Martha ordered her on desk duty as a potential hazard on a call.

She used her belt instead, though, and Fatin moaned when she slipped it off – tying her wrists together quickly and pushing them up, over, their heads. Fatin gripped the wooden piece of railing, her feet sliding along the sheets and Leah gripped her ankle, her gaze flicking the bedpost.

She does use the rope and ties Fatin’s feet to the bedposts loosely – she settles between her legs, teasing Fatin with long strokes of her tongue against her clit. Her chin is soaked, it dribbles down her jaw and over her neck and Leah finally pushes her tongue inside Fatin – Fatin’s hands clutch at her head and Leah sighs, pressing a parting kiss to Fatin’s clit before pushing up on her elbows.

Fatin whines, her body arching and lifting from the bed – she’s flushed with sweat and her pupils blown. “Please – baby, please. I’ll do anything, just please –

Leah shakes her head, running her fingers over Fatin’s slicked inner thighs. “You know what to do,” Leah smirks, pinching at her thigh. “Princess.”

Fatin whines, her teeth digging into her pretty pink lip and her body arches from the bed once more. Fatin’s joined hands move up the bed slowly, stretching across the pillows and wrapping around the post.

Leah hums appreciatively, dropping a wet kiss on Fatin’s hip.  

“Now I have to start all over again,” Leah sighs, not at all disappointed.

Fatin makes a sound between them and a whine and groan – dying off with a bite to her lip. Leah drops a kiss to her clit, passing her tongue across the sensitive bud – Fatin’s hips lift into her mouth and Leah tsks, dropping a heavy arm across her waist to keep her still.

“Easy, princess,” Leah murmurs, licking her lips and stroking her thumb over Fatin’s hipbone. “Wouldn’t want to think you’re in control here.”

“Leah,” Fatin mews, her gaze pleading and her lip wobbling – she looks so pretty like this. Leah wants to tell her. “Need you.”

“I know,” Leah says, nudging her nose over her clit and descending – her mouth full of the sweet and tangy taste of Fatin. “I’ll tell you when you can come.”

She tells Fatin later, when her jaw aches and her tongue tires – she tells Fatin with three fingers inside her, with her lips on Fatin’s ear.

“You like it when I own you like this,” Leah nips at her earlobe, brushing her thumb over Fatin’s clit on her next thrust. “When I fuck you so good you can’t think of anything else.”

“Please, Leah,” Fatin whispers, her voice hoarse and Leah hums when Fatin clenches around her fingers. She nods, nestling her forehead against Fatin’s and she drives her fingers in one last time – a practiced curl of her fingers has Fatin arching – almost violently and Leah watches her body, feels it tremble beneath her and this is all the power she will ever need.

Fatin’s mouth drops open, her body sagging and Leah kisses her neck, mouthing at her pulse as she works Fatin through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Fuck,” Fatin breathes roughly, her hips jerking and her cunt pulsing around Leah’s fingers. “Fuck, Leah – honey, I need – I need…”

She nips at Fatin’s pulse, her soaked fingers finally falling free of Fatin. The bed creaks as Leah shuffles down, undoing the ties at Fatin’s ankles and dropping a kiss to each bone.

“Okay?” Leah checks in, messaging her hand over Fatin’s calf.

Fatin nods, bending her knees and stretching them out again. Leah moves from the bed, reaching into her suitcase for the harness.

“Oh fuck,” Fatin exhales, her hips lifting again and Leah smirks, tightening the harness around her hips. “You – fuck. I’m – Fuck.”

“Speechless, princess?” Leah tilts her head, kneeling on the bed once more. “Arguing in missionary is always a treat with you.”

“Leah,” Fatin kicks out on the bed, teeth pulling at her swollen lips. “You just – fuck. Okay. I can’t – words. Just fuck me.”

“On your knees, princess.”

Fatin’s eyes roll back in her head, her body twisting in a heap on the mattress.

“Good girl,” Leah murmurs, trailing a hand over the curve of her body. “I want your hands, baby girl.”

Fatin groans, her shoulders shifting down into the mattress and Leah smirks, scratching her fine nails over Fatin’s spine. Fatin struggles to coordinate her hands and Leah teases her with the tip, rubbing it over her folds and nudging her clit.

“Bitch,” Fatin huffs and Leah snorts, because of course, it’s the one thing Fatin can say coherently.

Fatin manages to loosen her hands from the belt, tossing it somewhere and folding her hands over her lower back. Leah hums, dipping down to kiss the centre of her back and wrap the rope around Fatin’s wrists.

She closes her hand around Fatin’s hip, placing her free hand over Fatin’s joined wrists, pressing her thumb into Fatin’s palm as she nudges the toy forward. Fatin moans when she pauses inside her, moving her hand from Fatin’s hip to the nape of her neck.

She pulls Fatin back against the toy – earning the sexiest noise from Fatin and Leah shudders, tightening her grip on Fatin and pulling her back against the toy each time she draws the toy back.

She burns for Fatin – like a moth to the flame, she can never resist and nor would she want to. She thinks of her first summer of fire camp in the Bay, when she learned how flames flicker and dance – how they can entice and tease with unpredictability in fluid movements. She thinks that she and Fatin could stop and start a fire on their own. She believes that of all particles, atoms, and molecules – she and Fatin burn the brightest.

“God, you’re such a bitch,” Fatin says, around midnight as Leah runs her lips over Fatin’s back. “You make me lose my fucking mind.”

“Sure, princess,” Leah nips at her shoulder, running her fingers over Fatin’s side.

“Shut up,” Fatin grumbles, nestling back against her – the exact opposite of what her words convey. “I’m not tied up anymore.”

“Three hours later,” Leah noses at her neck, inhaling the last of her perfume.

“Fucking – fuck,” Fatin grumbles, reaching for her wrist and wrapping it around her front. She’s something like a grumpy cat who still wants to be pet, even if it means she will have claw marks and a few bite marks as a result. She still loves Fatin all the same.

Leah smiles, biting her lip to contain the laughter.

“Would you like to fuck missionary to get your point across, darling?”

“Don’t tempt me, I think my pussy is out of order for the night.”

Leah grins, pressing her lips against Fatin’s back and tightening her hold on her girlfriend.  

She almost dreads going back to work after a long weekend with Fatin at a fancy wilderness resort. When the smoke got thicker as they inched closer and closer to town, Fatin’s hand covered hers and Leah switched the radio to the emergency channel she had access to. She kept it on long enough to know the weather wasn’t in their favour and they have a fire at five-percent containment, currently burning at 180,00 acres.

“What does it mean to cut line?” Fatin asks, unpacking their suitcases. Leah lounges on the bed, resting her head against her palm and flicking her eyes at Fatin’s figure, dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and a cropped tank top.

Apparently, Leah isn’t allowed to put things away because she doesn’t colour coordinate or whatever that means.

But Fatin did allow her to lift an empty suitcase and stack it atop a wardrobe.

“You essentially dig a trench in the ground to stop the fire from spreading, or manipulate it to burn a certain way,” Leah gestures with her left hand, watching Fatin put a hanger through one of her t-shirts.

“Is that why you have such sexy muscles?” Fatin’s lips lift into a small smile and Leah chuckles, nodding along. She’ll take Fatin finding a positive in this.

“That reminds me, baby,” Leah shuffles up on the bed, crossing her legs. “We should put together an emergency kit – you know, like,” Leah clears her throat, tapping her fingers against her knees. “Just in case we would ever have to evacuate.”

Fatin frowns, twisting from the closet to step closer to the bed. Leah reaches for her once she kneels on the bed, fitting her fingers between Fatin’s on the bedspread. She fixates on the quilted squares, a gift from Leah’s grandma many years ago that Fatin instantly put on the bed.

“Just – just for precaution,” Leah swallows, squeezing Fatin’s hand. “Like, it’s recommended by FEMA – everyone, really. Just a tote one of us can throw into the car.”

“Okay,” Fatin nods, glancing down at their hands. “We should do that.”

She pulls out her phone, bringing out a saved checklist she keeps on her camera roll. “Water, one gallon per person, ideally seven days. Food for seven days –

“Like what kind of food?” Fatin tilts her head, her brows furrowing. “We both know you would eat soup out of a can like a feral cavewoman, and it’s totally hot, baby,” Fatin winks, brushing her thumb across Leah’s chin. “But the sodium would be terrible for my skin. I’d be bloated with one can of chicken noodle.”

“I’ll pack you some pre-packaged rations,” Leah dipped her chin to kiss Fatin’s palm. “And some of that trail mix you like.”

She adds granola and those yogurt-covered pretzels that Fatin inhales on the couch when they are watching TV.

“I’d fight a bitch for some Kool-Aid Jammers,” Fatin taps her phone, leaning over the screen. “Like if it came down to it. I’d fight someone.”

“Baby, I’ll just buy you a box. No fighting required.”

“Two,” Fatin holds up two fingers, wiggling them. “Cherry and Kiwi Strawberry. And if it’s the apocalypse, you’re going to be a hot commodity. I have to be prepared to fend off potential suitors.”

“And here I thought you’d be a tropical punch kind of girl,” Leah adds it to the list.

“Because I like them extra fruity?” Fatin wiggles her shoulders, crawling across the mattress to settle between Leah’s legs. “Are you calling me gay, baby?”

“Pot, kettle,” Leah kisses her cheek, settling her phone in Fatin’s lap and typing out a medical kit on her notes app. Fatin tucks her head against Leah’s cheek, running her fingers over Leah’s forearms as she types, thinking out loud. “Flashlight, radio, batteries.”

“For the vibrator,” Fatin nods, looping her fingers across her wrist. “Good idea, honey.”

“What? No. For the flashlight and the radio.”

Fatin tips her head back on her shoulder, frowning. “Baby, I won’t face an emergency without your strap. So don’t forget that either.”

“I’m not packing a strap in my emergency kit.”

“Oh, so now it’s your emergency kit?” Fatin parrots, hooking an arm around her neck. “How the tables have turned. What happened to us?”

Leah’s cheeks heat and she nudges her lips against Fatin’s shoulder, hiding her expression there as she types batteries for Fatin’s vibrator. Fatin scoffs, taking the phone from her hands and writing my baby’s strap (for a good apocalyptic fucking).

“We only have one,” Leah reasons, stroking her hands along Fatin’s sides. “It wouldn’t be practical to keep it near the door when we – um, well, when we need to, uh, use it.”

Fatin inhales dramatically, a hand flying to her chest. “Baby, are you telling me we need to buy more sex toys?”

“Hold on – that’s not – what I’m trying to say is –

“We need two,” Fatin nods, closing the notes app and opening her internet app. “Maybe three. Just in case one perishes you know? Gotta have a backup. You’re always going on about being prepared.”

“Uh, well, that’s not exactly – I mean, I’m not opposed,” Leah flounders, wetting her lips when Fatin types in the online sex toy shop. Leah’s hands flex at Fatin’s side when a colourful array of dildos pops up on the screen. “Like, I’d like that, a lot. Probably. Not probably. A lot. Definitely would like it a lot. For you – for us, I mean.”

“Curved, baby?” Fatin hums, blissfully ignorant of Leah’s floundering as she swipes through photos of the celestial-themed toy. “Reviews are good. Said it hits the spot – oh, this one glows in the dark. Look, baby, it’s got confetti on it. Seven and a half inches, hmm, I think we’re there, aren’t we?”

“Uh – yeah, definitely,” Leah coughs, her body heated beyond repair.

“Ew – that is a tentacle. Why would anyone want that – oh, and that’s a unicorn horn in a cotton candy theme. I shouldn’t kink shame. I bet some gay loves to get railed by the unicorn dildo.”

“Right. Of course,” Leah bites her lip at the curved celestial-themed dildo that appears in the recently viewed tab.

“Which one do you like, baby? We should order three. Test the best one,” Fatin nods, adding the glow and the dark confetti one to her cart. “The best one goes in the nightstand and the worst goes in the kit – or maybe, reverse it. Like when the world is falling apart at least I’ll have your best dick in me, you know?”

Leah squeaks, tightening her grip on Fatin. “Whatever you think,” Leah mumbles, hiding her blush on Fatin’s shoulder.

Fatin sighs, “I want your input, Leah. Pick one. We’re getting a new harness too. Emergency preparedness, and all that.”

“I hardly think this qualifies as emergency preparedness,” Leah grumbles, pointing to a girthy, purple dildo.

“These are my essential items,” Fatin says, adding it to the cart and quickly adding a harness to the order. “Take it or leave it.”

Leah sighs, pressing a kiss to Fatin’s cheek as Fatin types away on the shipping and billing information, hitting ‘buy’ and earning a cheeky ‘woohoo!’ sound bite. Fatin laughs, navigating back to the list.

“Can opener, dust mask, garbage bags, microfibre cloths, toiletries,” Leah lists.

“Oh, my moisturizer,” Fatin nods, adding it to the note.

“Well, no, that’s not exactly, uh –

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Fatin twists, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “My foundation cream too. Honey, I can’t exist in the apocalypse without my skincare essentials.”

“Nobody said anything about an apocalypse.”

“But, like, we’re preparing for the worst. Right? Fuck, I should order another makeup bag, how big is this tote?”

“Clothes,” Leah reminds her, tapping the screen. “I’ll let you pack those.”

“Mm, yeah, thanks cutie,” Fatin kisses her cheek, typing out clothes. “I’ll dress you so hot for the end of the world. I’m seeing graphic tees with the sleeves ripped off, showing off your arms, and denim shorts - once a pair of jeans because you’re a little gay like that.”

“Thank you, Fatin. I’m so grateful you’ll expose me to the elements.”

“Oh, and those cute button-ups you wear, give me a black bra and an unbuttoned shirt,” Fatin nods, writing out all these words. Leah shakes her head – their list is thirty items long right now. “Leggings. God yes, leggings,” Fatin places a hand on her thigh, squeezing appreciatively. “And your FD shirts. You know the ones with your last name printed on the back? Bring me a couple more home from your locker.”

“Yes, princess,” Leah mutters, waiting for a reaction, but Fatin hums – adding more things to the list. “I will do that.”

“Thank honey,” Fatin pauses, finally, tapping a finger to her lips. “What else are we forgetting?”

“Baby, I’m unsure if we can fit all of this into a tote box.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll pack it for us,” Fatin nods, staring off to her right as if she’s had a thought –

“My French press,” Fatin says typing it. “Your gigantic red mug and my petite pink one – do you think that’s a metaphor for our sex life? I bet that shit is studied somewhere.”

“Fatin,” Leah breathes in exasperation, dropping her forehead on Fatin’s shoulder.

“Baby, don’t act like you can go without a nice hot brew in the morning. You always say it tastes better when I make it for you.”

“Because it does,” Leah half-grumbles, wrapping her arms around Fatin’s waist. “But I hardly think that is for emergencies.”

“As long as you’re there,” Fatin lifts a shoulder, tucking her phone back into her hand. “I think I’d be okay.”

Leah grins, shutting off her phone and dumping it on the bed.

“I think I would be okay too,” Leah says, telling her with no uncertainty – she would be fine, as long as she had Fatin.

Princess 🎀🥰

I’m just saying u haven’t sexted me anything in three shifts. What is a girl supposed to think?

Leah grins, dropping down onto a log and pushing her face shield over her helmet. The heat is sweltering today – a combination of the wildfire and the hot and dry conditions over the last two weeks. She takes her canteen from her hip, popping the lid open and taking a swing as more of Fatin’s texts come through.

They finally get to a spot with signal. She’s clearing brush today, creating a tinderbox that they plan to set on fire once it cools off in the evening, with the hope of creating a containment line that the fire will die out.

Princess 🎀🥰

Just send me something vanilla like your tits

I’ll take a dirty foot pic too. U know those go for big $$ online. We’d be rich baby.

I miss you ♥♥

I love you. Night babe

Saw you on the news this morning ♥ that’s my baby

I’m saving that screen grab as ur new profile pic

God ur so hot. Just come home and fuck me already

Leah

How could I say no to that?

Leah thumbs back through their conversation, a smile imprinting on her cheeks. She’s on the third day of her rotation, with two more to complete before she can go home and she’s been deployed to the mountains this rotation.

Her phone vibrates and Leah bites her lip, scrolling down to the latest message.

Princess 🎀🥰

Hi honey

How are you?

Leah

Hot and sweaty

Princess 🎀🥰

Is it possible to be jealous of a wildfire?

Leah

And I miss you, pretty girl.

Princess 🎀🥰

Fuck me it’s the perfect punctuation that makes me wanna drop my panties more than anything

But how r u?

Leah

Wandering thru the forest and starting fires. Typical firefighter stuff

How did that session with the piano kid go?

Princess 🎀🥰

Rough

I see myself a lot in this one. Don’t know if I should hold onto the contract.

Leah

Do you think you’d be in the best position to help?

Princess 🎀🥰

Yeah. I mean the closest therapist with my background is two hours away. I don’t want to do that to the kid

Leah

Can you separate my Fatin and therapist Fatin with the client?

Princess 🎀🥰

That’s a loaded question cutie

The answer is yes and no

Leah

I trust you.

Trust your gut. I’m proud of you. No matter what the outcome is.

Princess 🎀🥰

♥♥♥

Leah

♥♥♥

Princess 🎀🥰

Ughhhh

I gotta go baby but here are a few things to keep you hot for me…

[Image attached}

[Image attached}

[Image attached}

Leah’s feet scuffle against the ground – her hands going limp and her phone clattering to the ground. She picks it up quickly, glancing over her shoulders – her team is just resuming their work and Leah scrambles for her water, draining her canteen dry.

Glimpses on Fatin wearing nothing on her chest and bright red nails palming a –

No.

She won’t get horny on the job. She needs to focus.

She can’t focus on Fatin’s smooth legs and the red lace on her – nope.

Focusing.

She’s focusing. So hard right now.

She clips her water bottle back onto the carbineer hanging from her harness, wondering if that strip of black lace she saw on Fatin’s thigh was a piece of her garter belt – nope.

Focusing.

She is focusing as she picks up her rake and grips it with both hands, moving her feet across the forest floor with deep concentration on moving her feet in equal coordination to rejoin her team.

It’s going to be a long two days.

She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, head nodding to the playlist she and Fatin share. She flicks her high beams on, thinking of the stir-fry waiting for her at home as she steers her truck down the familiar road. Fatin had sent her a picture of the stir-fry an hour ago and Leah almost skipped a shower at the firehouse to come home instead.

She decided a shower might be better, considering she spent the day cutting line around a farm and got a little too friendly with the pigs. Which, in her defence, were super cute and Leah spent her lunch break petting one – she even named one Spamala Panderson, while Toni went with Burt and Rachel with Charmaine.

(Leah deserves extra points for a last name.)

She frowns when the lights are off. Usually, Fatin leaves the porch light on for her when she’s coming home after dark, she checks her phone as she exits her truck – no messages from Fatin. She’s lifting her bag over her shoulder, sneakers hitting the walkway when an annoying shrill reaches her ears and she glances to her right – it hits her then. Smoke.

Smoke alarms blaring. No lights on in the house. 

Her bag thumps against the lawn and she lurches into a sprint, her heart threatening to drop out of her chest – she takes the steps two at a time, practically throwing herself against the door to feel for heat. She touches the doorknob, it’s cold and locked – the smoke alarms blaring and Leah’s hands shake as she brings her keys to the door.

“Fatin?!” Leah’s yelling, jamming the key into the lock and twisting.

She throws the door open, and a burst of smoke – thick and curdling hits her and she winces, her eyes watering. She pulls her sweater over her mouth and nose, crouching low and calling for Fatin.

The smoke alarms blares and she winces as she approaches the kitchen – the stove sizzling and the brunt smell of a charcoal meal hitting her nose, she can taste it in her mouth. Flames – a small fire but towering – burning the decorative towels Fatin hangs on the counter space, and arcing up along her walls. She grabs the fire extinguisher she hung on the end of Fatin’s kitchen island, pointing to the stove and spraying the foam.

She coughs into her elbow, flicking the stove off and reaching for the nuzzle again – spraying the foam onto the curtains that once framed a window next to the stove. She yells for Fatin again, coughing when the smoke coats her airways.

She moves away from the kitchen, taking her phone from her pocket and dialling dispatch. She calls for Fatin again, pushing the bathroom door open – she finds nothing.

“Emergency Dispatch,” the operator answers and Leah recognizes his voice.

“Dispatch, this is Rilke. I have a small house fire. 1283 Matherson Road, requesting unit follow-up,” Leah pushes the bathroom window open, breathing in the fresh air. She moves to the bedroom, using the flashlight she keeps on Fatin’s dresser and peering around the room – still no Fatin.

She doesn’t know if she should be relieved or not.

“Copy that, Rilke. Sending units your way, stay safe.”

“Thank you dispatch.”

She opens more windows in the house, moving outside to call Fatin and sit on the front step. Her chest itches from the smoke, her throat hoarse and she can taste the burnt food. It’s so unlike Fatin to be so careless – to leave the stove on? Leave the house altogether?

Her phone rings and rings, and she stares down at the contact picture – a selfie of Fatin with her Ray Bans tipped down exposing warm brown eyes that Leah loves so much, and a black FD ballcap on her head with her Air Pods plugged in. 

She dials it again when Fatin doesn’t answer, a faint sound of sirens in the distance. She drops her forehead to her knees, holding the phone out and it just rings and rings…

She lifts her head when the engine parks out front, her coworkers exiting the engine in haste – rushing over to her.

“Leah!” Dot yells, reaching for her and Leah stands, shaking her head when Martha asks if she’s hurt. Her colleagues enter the house and Leah makes her way down the walkway, picking up her duffle bag. Dot hands her a bottle of water at the rig, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Don’t know where Fatin is,” Leah works her jaw to one side, scuffing her dirty sneakers against the pavement. “She’s not answering.”

“She’s probably just out getting some groceries or…” Dot trails off, her mouth opening and closing again. Leah thinks she senses it too, this is odd for Fatin. “I’m gonna call her, okay? Let her know we’re looking for her.”

Leah nods, her gaze flicking back to the house – where she thought Fatin was in danger, and now she’s just…in the wind? With no phone call or text.

Dot clears her throat, her phone dropping to her side and Leah sighs – she already knows Dot wasn’t able to get a hold of her.

“I’m gonna ask our friends to keep an eye out, okay? She’s fine, Leah. I’m sure she is.”

“Y-yeah, I’m gonna -,” Leah’s voice breaks, the surf crashing into the banking and the soil particles dislodging, carried away by the ocean. “I’m gonna go drive around. Look for her. Let me know if you hear from her.”

Dot nods, squeezing her shoulder as she passes and Leah sighs, opening her truck door and tossing her bag in. She dials Fatin’s number again, throwing her phone on the dash and starting her truck.

She dials Fatin three more times as she drives through town, going to the only place open past ten pm that Fatin would actually go to – the bar. She parks her truck, scanning the parking lot for Fatin’s car but she doesn’t see it. She jogs into the building, her phone clenched in her hand – the adrenaline leaves her sweaty and frantic. Her phone slips in her hand and she pushes a palm over her face, collecting the dampness there.

She hears Fatin first – her exaggerated, throaty laugh, that she uses when she’s drunk that always makes Leah feel a little silly. Her hands shake and she steps through the bar, her eyes flicking over Fatin – beautiful and unharmed, sitting on the barstool in a tight dress and her legs crossed – she’s speaking to a group of women Leah recognizes from the local school.

“Fatin,” Leah pants, licking her lips. Fatin doesn’t hear her, the whites of her teeth exposed in another smile, but Leah can tell it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She clears her throat, taking a deep breath before speaking a little louder. “Fatin.”

Her girlfriend twists on the chair – her brows furrowed initially, then her face morphing into a genuine smile and Fatin stumbles from the bar stool, throwing herself into Leah.

“Baby,” Fatin purrs, looping her arms around her neck loosely and Leah blinks, taking in the slight droop of Fatin’s eyes and the way her lips try to form words. “Fancy meeting you here, cutie. Is there a fire you need to put out? Maybe you need to inspect me privately.”

Her voice drops in faux-whisper, winking, and Leah just shakes her head because Fatin is – Fatin is tipsy. She has no idea that Leah just felt like someone tore her heart out of her chest and dangled it on a string like a sick game of catch me if you can for the past hour.

“You-you're here,” Leah says finally, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. Fatin frowns, leaning against her and Leah doesn’t take the invitation to touch her. She repeats herself, “You’re here.”

Fatin nods, her brows furrowing and she tilts her chin up for a kiss. Leah sucks in a breath, stepping back an inch because she – Fatin is tipsy and Leah doesn’t understand.

“Leah?” Fatin asks, her head tilting. Leah blinks, shaking her head as if she could clear it.

“Um, the house. There was a fire,” Leah explains, running a hand through her hair. The strands catch and snag on her fingers and she tugs until her eyes prick with pain. “You must have left the stove on.”

Fatin glances to her left, forehead taught in concentration and Leah watches the puzzle assemble on Fatin’s face. Brown eyes snap back to hers, suddenly appraised with clarity and she grasps Leah’s arm.

“The stir-fry. Fuck. Baby, we have to go back,” Fatin moves to her stool, collecting her purse and jacket. She’s reaching for Leah’s arm again, trying to move to the door when Leah shakes her head.

“It’s fine. I handled it. FD is dealing with it.”

Fatin stops, her eyes flicking over Leah with anxious intent. “Did you get hurt?”

“No.”

“Fuck. Fucking – fuck. This is his fault,” Fatin shakes her head, pressing her face into the jean jacket and Leah steps closer, laying a hand on Fatin’s arm and squeezing.

“We should talk,” Leah says and Fatin nods, threading their fingers together.

Cap 🚒

Glad you found her. House isn’t safe to stay in tonight. Use the firehouse or stay at mine if you want. Give her a swift kick to the ass from her best friend.

She reads the text aloud in the truck, still in the parking lot of the bar but the windows are down and Leah appreciates the fresh air – she still tastes burnt food in her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Fatin says, sipping from a bottle of water in the passenger seat. “I fucked up.”

Leah blows out a breath, toying with the wrapper on her water bottle perched between her thighs. They’ve been sitting here in relative silence for a few minutes now. Fatin twists in her seat, her gaze landing on her face and Leah bites her lip, keeping hers on the plastic cover she keeps twisting and un-twisting.

“Leah, baby, please look at me,” Fatin says gently and Leah should really know better, she’s powerless to Fatin. She lifts her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Y-yeah, yeah. I know,” Leah swallows, teeth worrying her lip.

“I left my phone in my car. I was going to text you, but I was so mad at him,” Fatin’s nostrils flare, the plastic crinkling around her fingers. “I just – I don’t remember honestly. I think I cried on the way to the bar, and I recognized some teachers there and they just invited me to sit with them. Fuck – fuck,” Fatin’s voice wavers, her chin bobbing. She shuts her eyes and Leah tastes blood in her mouth. “I just needed a drink. He makes me need a drink.”

Leah’s heart constricts, the plastic crinkling beneath her fingers as she squeezes the bottle.

“We’re, um, talking about your dad, right?” Leah clarifies.

“Yeah – yeah, honey, I’m sorry. So fucking sorry,” Fatin shakes her head, reaching across the console for her hand. Leah lifts hers, laying her fingers over Fatin’s palm. “He called,” Fatin shuts her eyes, shaking her head. “He called. To invite me to his fucking wedding.”

“Oh shit,” Leah’s brows lift, tracing the lifelines on Fatin’s palm.

“To the third Mrs. Jadmani,” Fatin scoffs, her lips twisting into a cruel smile. “Fuck him. I’ve got no fucking use for that.”

“And you needed a drink,” Leah reminds her, tapping her index finger against the pulse on her wrist.

You needed a drink instead of me.

Fatin hears her – of course, she does, who else would know her better?

“You were working when he called,” Fatin shifts in her seat, her knee bouncing as she speaks. “I would have told you right away…I just…fuck. I fucked this up,” Fatin’s posture slouches, her head knocking against the headrest. “You were working and I didn’t want to bother you. So I did what I always would have done. Gone to the bar, get drunk, fuck somebody and kick them out at two and cry in the shower.”

Leah blinks, tightening her fingers around Fatin’s wrist and tugging until Fatin opens her eyes again. She lifts Fatin’s hand, brushing her lips there before speaking.

“We can still have sex and cry in the shower if you want.”

Fatin laughs. A desperate, surprised, sort of sound leaves her throat and she snorts, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. Her shoulders shake against the seat and Leah joins her, laughter bubbling up in her chest and clearing some of the smoke.

Fatin settles against the seat once more, running her fingers beneath her eyes to wipe the tears and Leah catches one droplet with her thumb, brushing it away. Fatin sighs, leaning into her hand – the warm specs appear in her eyes again and Leah exhales, leaning against her seat to hold Fatin’s gaze.

“I love you,” Fatin says, clutching her wrist.

Leah smiles, brushing her thumb over Fatin’s cheek. “I love you too, you idiot.”

“Hey,” Fatin huffs, her eyes rolling. “I had good intentions.”

“I know,” Leah murmurs, her stomach rumbling at the memory of the stir-fry Fatin had sent her a picture of four hours ago. “You nearly burnt your house down in the process.”

“That’s the price of love,” Fatin lifts her shoulders, her voice taking a dreamy tone and Leah snorts, shaking her head. Fatin grins, turning her head to kiss the base of her thumb – she settles her cheek back into her palm when she’s finished, her voice taking a serious tone. “What’s the damage?”

“Don’t know yet. Someone from the department will come by tomorrow morning to help you assess and submit your insurance claim. I don’t think it’s promising if we can’t stay there tonight.”

“Shit,” Fatin groans, squeezing her wrist. “Fuck. I’m an idiot. Fuck. Leah, you must think I’m –

“I don’t think anything bad about you,” Leah says firmly, shaking her head when Fatin opens her mouth. “I could never. Dot said we can go to the firehouse or hers tonight, and we’ll figure it all out tomorrow, okay?”

Fatin swallows, her lip wobbling and Leah strokes her jaw, watching Fatin nod.

“Okay.”

She helps Fatin peel out of her clothes in the bathroom, tossing them into her laundry bag. Fatin opted to go to the firehouse tonight, it made Leah feel all kinds of warm when Fatin said it’s basically our second home, anyway. She adjusts the temperature to Fatin’s liking, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder as she steers Fatin beneath the spray.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmurs, passing the shower bag into Fatin’s hand. It’s all her products anyway, so Fatin will be treated with some familiarity. Leah exits the washroom, taking a spare set of her fatigues from her locker – a clean pair of her gym shorts and a cotton t-shirt.

She slips back into the washroom, setting the folded clothes on the bench outside the shower next to the towel. Fatin hums her acknowledgement, murmuring a thank you baby as she steps away. Leah leans against the exterior wall of the shower.

“I haven’t cried yet,” Fatin tells her, the water splashing against the floor. “And I’m not kicking you out at two.”

“Okay,” Leah nods, staring at her reflection in the mirror. There’s a small grin there. “That’s promising.”

“We could have I’m-so-sad-can-you-fuck-better-sex?,” Fatin offers, the cap to a bottle opening. Leah scoffs, shaking her head. “Don’t laugh,” Fatin says, the bottle snapping shut. “You’re damaging my charm and I’m already so fragile tonight.”

“I think your ego can take it.”

“Excuse me,” Fatin gasps, a bottle crashing to the floor and Leah rolls her eyes, picturing Fatin with a hand clutching at her chest. “You know I find your confidence sexy, but this is starting to get out of hand.”

“What?” Leah crosses her arms, tilting her head back against the wall. “Me knowing you?”

Fatin is quiet for a moment, the water splashing against the tiles. Leah turns her head, listening for Fatin.

“We might have I’m-crazy-in-love-you-sex instead.”

“I can do both,” Leah says, her cheeks heating.

Fatin laughs, a low and teasing cadence swirling through the steam-riddled air.

“Oh cutie,” Fatin drawls, the noise of a kiss fluttering through the air and brushing her skin. “Your versatility never ceases to amaze me.”

Despite all of Fatin’s talk, they curl up in bed – the twin mattress hardly contains them but that has never been an issue. She cards her fingers through Fatin’s hair, still damp at the tips despite Leah passing a blow dryer through the silky strands. Fatin sighs, pushing her leg between Leah’s and laying a palm against the side of her face.

“Leah,” Fatin whispers, their noses nudging on their shared pillow. Leah inhales the fresh scent of her shea butter body wash, stroking her fingers over Fatin’s hip beneath the borrowed t-shirt. “I’m sorry, again. For everything.”

“I know,” Leah murmurs, swirling her fingertips over Fatin’s back.

“My sexy firefighter,” Fatin brushes their lips together, just a feathering touch. “You were gonna save me, weren’t you?”

“Always,” Leah nods.

“Mm,” Fatin hums, shifting impossibly closer until every inch of them touches. “I’d save you, too.”

Leah grins, a warm flush blooming from her chest and over her neck – her pulse thundering against Fatin’s hand.

“With your designer clothes and emergency vibrator?”

“Oh my God,” Fatin pulls back in a huff, flopping onto her back and casting an arm over her eyes. “You missed your calling as a comedian.”

“Would you be my groupie? Sit front row at my Netflix special?” Leah shifts up onto her elbow, peering down at her girlfriend.

Fatin peaks at her through her arm, grumbling when she sees the teasing grin on Leah’s face. Fatin lays her arm across her eyes again, “I seriously can’t with you tonight. The confidence you have to diss my vibrator tells me I’ve lost my touch.”

“Meaning?” Leah ponders, running her fingers over the soft skin that is exposed between the waistband of her shorts and her t-shirt.

“Meaning, I used to have you floundering and drooling over me. Now, you just cut right through that and make me needy.”

“Cause you’re a bottom,” Leah says like she’s telling the weather.

Fatin’s jaw drops, her arm slapping down against the bed. “I am not.”

“You are baby,” Leah nods, spelling out her name on Fatin’s skin. “And I’m fine when you wanna top…twice a month.”

“Twice a month?!” Fatin exclaims, shooting up on the bed. “Fuck you, actually, you know what? I’m not engaging in this sexually demoralizing conversation with you, my girlfriend. Spoon me. We’re going to bed.”

“For the record, I still flounder and drool over you, baby girl.”

Fatin slaps her hand away, rolling onto her side and facing away. Leah snorts, reaching for the blanket and pulling it over their bodies. She settles behind Fatin, sliding an arm around her waist and nestling her nose into her citrus-scented hair.

“Don’t even think about having sexually explicit dreams about me, Leah Rilke.”

She chuckles, tangling her fingers in Fatin’s shirt.

“Of course not, princess.”

She holds Fatin’s hand when Toni explains the fire damaged her exterior electrical panel and the wall isn’t structurally sound anymore. Fatin does cry then, shifting into her arms and Leah kisses the top of her head, holding her in the living room.

Rachel helps them pack later that day – Fatin’s cosmetics and toiletries alone fill Rachel’s entire trunk. Her old room is still empty, and her best friend piped up right away and said you can stay with me until you figure it out. Fatin submits her insurance claim, collapsing atop her in bed later that night with the most defeated sigh hefting from her body. Leah rubs her back and turns on a trashy reality TV show that Fatin watches when she’s drained from work.

Living with Rachel is fine for Leah, she had done it for years before she met Fatin, but living with Rachel and Fatin proved to be somewhat difficult. Fatin likes her showers, long and hot (and with Leah, most times), and Rachel likes to get to work on time after her morning swim in the lake down the road. Rachel likes to get up early in the mornings, but Fatin does not – she prefers to stay up late into the night and watch trashy TV to decompress.

“I specifically said, no sex on the couch, don’t you remember?” Rachel stared at her over breakfast in the morning. “We’ve always had that rule.”

Leah coughed, bringing her coffee mug to her lips. “Um, well, I don’t – “

“Leah, honey,” Fatin laid a hand on her arm, shaking her head. “Don’t speak to the other party without your lawyer.”

“Oh, so she’s your lawyer now too?” Rachel scoffed, pointing to Fatin and swirling her spoon around her cereal. “How fucking convenient.”

“You can’t tell me you’ve never had sex on that couch,” Fatin lifts her chin, pointing to the couch in question. “And I do not recall reading a list of house rules when we moved in, from tragic circumstances, I might remind you.”

Rachel’s jaw drops and the spoon clatters against the bowl. Leah grins behind her coffee mug, Fatin usually makes her feel that way regularly.

“You can’t – the past isn’t relevant, here.”

“Neither is your speculation,” Fatin says pretentiously and Leah might be staring a little, Fatin would be such a hot lawyer. A jumpsuit with her signature heels – maybe her hair done up in one of those messy buns and her cockiness would be so well-suited. She’d do something pretentious like corporate law and spend all-day –

“Baby,” Fatin squeezes her arm. “Case closed.”

“Oh,” Leah nods, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.

“She was being all cunt struck again,” Rachel rolls her eyes, pushing out of her chair and taking her dishes to the sink. “I’ve seen it many times on the job. I’m texting you the house rules.”

“I look forward to your sworn affidavit,” Fatin wiggles her shoulders playfully, lifting her brows at Leah. “I’ll review it with my client and get back to you.”

“I hate you both,” Rachel deadpans, collecting her keys from the counter.

“See you at dinner!” Fatin calls, waving at Rachel. The door slams and Leah snorts, dipping the last of her pancake in her maple syrup.

“We should fuck on the couch just to mess with her,” Fatin nods over to the couch, tapping her fingers along her forearm. “Again.”

Leah shakes her head, poking her fork through a strawberry. Fatin’s fingers dig into her arm a little and Fatin shifts forward, leaning her cheek against her bicep.

“Pretty please?”

Leah lifts the fork to Fatin, offering her the berry. Fatin takes it, chewing as she speaks. “It’s like a desert, here baby, I swear. Does my insurance company account for orgasm deprivation? I should sue them if they don’t include emotional damages.”

“Use your emergency vibrator,” Leah reminds her, poking another strawberry and offering it to Fatin. Fatin acts as if they haven’t been intimate at all since they moved, it took all of two days before Fatin climbed atop her and told her to be quiet.

(Leah did a poor job of it so Fatin turned her on her stomach, and pushed her head into the pillow instead.

The time on the couch was purely accidental. Rachel was working a night shift and Fatin walked out of their bedroom in nothing but her FD shirt and climbed into her lap.

The second time on the couch was because Leah couldn’t wait and needed to see what Fatin had on beneath her dress that evening.

Fatin doesn’t do quiet either, which meant Leah had to become…creative with her means to keep Fatin quiet.)

Fatin pouts, eating the strawberry.

“I don’t even know where it is right now,” Fatin sighs, leaning back in the chair. “There are so many boxes in your room.”

“Definitely a fire hazard,” Leah nods, sipping from her coffee.

Fatin sighs, even more theatrically than the last.

“Don’t remind me of my trauma today. I can’t cope.”

“Okay,” Leah shuffles to her feet, leaning over to kiss Fatin on the cheek before dropping her dishes in the sink. “I’ll see you after work. I’ll grab something for dinner, we don’t want Rachel’s cooking.”

“Thanks, babe,” Fatin reaches for her arm as she passes. Fatin purses her lips and Leah grins, cupping Fatin’s face and leaning down for a proper kiss. Fatin sighs against her lips, nipping at her bottom lip when Leah tries to pull away.

Leah brushes her thumb across her jaw, coaxing her from the kiss. Fatin makes a cute noise of disappointment, grasping her wrist and squeezing it as they pull away.

“Sext me something hot on shift, cutie.”

Fatin does the opposite of sexting back her later that afternoon, she texts her a life-altering question that has Leah spiralling in Shelby’s office and hugging their FD mascot (a plush Dalmatian named Philly) to her chest and laying on the couch like she’s twenty minutes into a therapy session.

“I’m just not seein’ the problem here, Leah,” Shelby squints at her from behind her desk.

Leah groans, throwing an arm across her face.

“She already asked if you wanted to move in, that box has been ticked,” Shelby motions with her fingers. “And both of you moved into Rachel’s place after the fire. And now she wants to go house shopping with you.”

“Yes!” Leah springs off the couch, her hand tightening around Philly’s neck. “That’s, like, a big deal!”

Shelby nods slowly, her expression still blank. “I’m not following.”

Leah huffs, pacing Shelby’s office with Philly clutched between her hands. “House shopping? Are we married, hello? Did I miss something?”

“Lord, I would hope not, otherwise Toni would be so disappointed not to be your best man.”

“This is serious,” Leah states, wrapping her arms around her chest. “I’m freaking out. I think.”

“You don’t say,” Shelby drawls, holding her hands up in mock surrender when Leah opens her mouth again. Shelby rounds the desk, placing her hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently. “Take a breath, Leah. Come on now, with me. Let’s breathe.”

She breathes with Shelby, her chest expanding on a long inhale and timing her exhales with Shelby. She feels a little sleepy after a couple of minutes and Shelby guides her to the couch, putting Philly back into her hands.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m scared,” Leah nods, chewing her lip. “Scared she’ll decide it’s all too much and kick me out two days after moving in.”

“Okay,” Shelby pats her knee. “And what makes you think that?”

“I don’t – I don’t know,” Leah blinks. “I don’t think it’s a real thing, Shelby.”

“I don’t think it’s real either,” Shelby smiles softly. “Sometimes our brain makes things up to get our heart rate goin’ just for fun, but it ain’t fun. The only thing stoppin’ you from bein’ with Fatin is you, Leah.”

“I should tell Rachel. She won’t be able to complain about us anymore,” Leah digs for her phone, navigating to her text messages. Shelby’s hand covers her phone and Leah looks up at her, a frown settling on her face. “What?”

“Maybe you should text Fatin back first,” Shelby grins, tapping her phone case.

“Oh. Yeah,” Leah nods, pulling up Fatin’s messages. “I should do that first. Thanks, Shelby.”

“Anytime, Leah.”

Rachel is over the moon when Leah texts her.

Rach 💪

Thank fucking God

Seriously

I’m gonna sacrifice something tonight in appreciation

I love you

But you’re my sister and I can’t listen to you get railed every week by Fatin

And you both are terrible at being quiet. I want the record to reflect that.

But I’m also so happy for u dude. U deserve happiness and all that shit.

Leah lays on Fatin’s chest later that night, with her glasses perched on her nose because the blue light is bad for her eyes and Fatin always encourages her to wear them. Fatin’s fingers are nudged into her hairline, scratching softly as they click through properties available in the area.

“Somewhere close to the station,” Fatin’s hand moves over the keys, typing the area into the search bar. “I need a nice bathroom.”

Leah hums, moving her cheek against Fatin’s shoulder for a better view of the listings. “What about the lake that Toni and Shelby are on?”

“With Martha and Dot?” Fatin nods, moving the cursor back to the search bar and typing in the new location. “There’s a couple available. Are you off tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. Wanna go house touring with me, princess?”

“Shut up,” Fatin grumbles, booking a couple of viewings. “You’re too chicken to tie me down with Rachel home.”

“Wanna put money on that?” Leah grins, pushing the laptop off Fatin’s lap and replacing it with her. Fatin snorts softly, reaching for her hips.

“We’re buying a house, honey,” Fatin smirks, fitting her palms beneath the oversized t-shirt she changed into earlier. “What’s yours is mine.”

Leah falters a little, her heart jumping into her throat because yeah – all of hers is Fatin’s.

“There she is,” Fatin murmurs, her hands travelling beneath the shirt to scratch at her abs. “My sexy firefighter thinking about all the ways I make you mine, aren’t you?”

Leah nods, swallowing at the dryness of her throat. Fatin lifts a hand, keeping her other palm spread across her stomach and taking her glasses off, setting them atop a book on the overcrowded nightstand.

“Take off your shirt,” Fatin orders, smooth as silk and Leah shivers, crossing her arms at her waist and tugging her shirt off. “Good girl,” Fatin murmurs and Leah’s eyes nearly roll back in her head. She pulls at the waistband of her boxers but Fatin stops her, angling her back against the mattress. “Let me.”

Fatin hovers over her, fully clothed, ten minutes later with three fingers buried inside her and a hot mouth on her neck, painting her neck with dark marks.

“Yours,” Leah says hoarsely, hips moving into Fatin’s strokes.

“That’s right, cutie,” Fatin nipping at her earlobe. “All mine.”

They move in on the first day of October. To a picturesque property on the lake that Leah absolutely adores. Fatin has been doing most of the packing since wildfire season is still ongoing, but they are at the tail end of it now and Leah’s had more shifts at the station than the mountains as of late.

It’s a beautiful three-bedroom home, with two baths and one detached space built below the deck that overlooks the lake. Fatin will use that space for her home office, and Leah will use the large bedroom downstairs as a home gym. There’s a stone fireplace that smartly accents the A-frame of the home, a swath of windows surrounding the house ensure there’s plenty of natural light and Fatin got her ‘nice’ bathroom with a walk-in shower and clawfoot tub.

They curl up on the couch, still stiff from IKEA but Leah literally put her blood, sweat, and tears into its’ assembly earlier that evening. The fire crackles and Fatin sighs, nudging her head against Leah’s neck.

“It’s kind of crazy,” Fatin says, stroking her fingers along the side of her neck. “That we’re here.”

“Do you want to expand on that, Ms. Therapist?”

“Very funny,” Fatin says dryly, pinching her shoulder. Fatin sucks in a breath and Leah tilts her cheek against Fatin’s forehead, rubbing a hand over her back. “I just mean...we’re here. In a home that’s ours. I’m glad I came here.”

“Why did you? Come here, I mean,” Leah pushes her hand beneath the borrowed t-shirt Fatin wore, stroking her thumb across the soft skin.

“Dot’s been trying to get me out here for years,” Fatin says. “But I don’t think I was ready. I jumped around with the symphony a lot, mostly stayed in the Bay,” Fatin shrugs, folding her arm across Leah’s chest and setting her chin atop it. “I got tired of it all. Especially the stuff between my mom and dad – it was exhausting going between them. I realized I was still their kid, despite being an adult, and I didn’t need to take on their stuff.”

Leah nods, smoothing a loose piece of hair behind Fatin’s ear.

“Dot was here, and I kept in touch with Shelby over the years from our days at music camp. She told me about you, you know,” Fatin grins, lifting her brows. “Said there was a lonely firefighter who needed a ‘real girlfriend and some proper courtin’,” Fatin does her best southern accent, earning a giggle from Leah. “And she told me about this girl with a thing for books and iced coffee. I was intrigued.”

“Because you wanted to court me?”

“Maybe,” Fatin hums, lifting a shoulder. “At first I wanted to fuck you, and still do, cutie,” Fatin winks, licking her lips and Leah snorts, pinching her hip. “We were compatible in bed, obviously, but the rest was…a pleasant surprise.”

“I think I need you,” Leah says, a picture forming in her head. Leah down on one knee one night on deck, a diamond ring in a velvet box and the promise of forever in Fatin’s kiss. She gestures into the air next to them as if Fatin could decipher what she means. “To, like…exist.”

Fatin grins, the entire world illuminating in her eyes and Leah knows it’s all reflected back in her face.

“Ditto, bitch.”