I kinda want Ravi and Eddie to be paired up at one point
And Ravi is the one who talks about Buck all the time and Eddie is there silently listening and nodding along.
Meanwhile Ravi has no idea he’s even doing it.
He’s like “Buck taught me to do this when using the saws and jaws”
“Buck said that if you put the ladder like this it’s more efficient”
And it’s everything Buck taught scared into him as a probie.
And Eddie just smiles and says “yep he did say that good job”
And Ravi goes back to work with Buck and is like “wow Eddie is the best. He lets me take the lead, unlike you (and rolls his eyes at Buck) and he doesn’t talk my ear off about you, he’s so fun to work with”
Then when Eddie goes home and they’re having a beer on the couch he just says “you taught Ravi well. It was like working with you again”. And Buck just melts.
Synopsis: After driving his drunk friends home, Buck gets a surprise.
Warnings: Fluff; alcohol consumption (all adults); responsible driver (don't drink and drive); drunkenness; hangover; confessions; kissing.
"Why are we here again?" he asked, taking a sip of his water while watching his friends take another shot of tequila.
"Because your birthday is in three weeks!" Eddie replied, throwing his arm over his friend, shouting and slurring his words. Buck winced at the loud sound in his ear and the alcohol breath, of course.
"And if that's why, why aren't I drinking?" he huffed, removing Eddie's arm from his shoulders, only to be hugged by his other friend.
"Because you're the designated driver tonight, DUH!" Unlike Eddie, her loud, slurred tone and alcohol breath didn't bother Buck at all.
"I think you've had enough," he said, moving the shot glass from her hand.
"You're boring!" she said, sticking her tongue out at Buck as if that were a big deal.
"He is!" Eddie agreed. "Let's dance?!"
"There's no dance floor here," Buck retorted, as if that would stop his two drunk friends from getting up and going near the bar's speakers. "It's going to be a long night," he huffed, taking another sip of his water.
Buck stayed there for a few more minutes, watching Eddie and her dancing like crazy. Laughing a little at his friend's clumsy movements, and Eddie's oddly well-coordinated steps. If he were a decent friend, of course he wouldn't film that and send it to everyone they knew… But if THEY were decent friends, they wouldn't take Buck to "celebrate his birthday" and designate him as the responsible driver. So it was only fair that everyone knew that Eddie had surprisingly precise coordination even when drunk, and executed steps that looked choreographed by a professional. As for her… Well, she moved as if she were trying to drown an invisible insect on the floor.
"Okay, guys," he announced, getting up from the table. "Time to go."
"NOOO!" she screamed, clinging to his arm. "They haven't sung happy birthday yet!"
"My birthday is in three weeks…" Buck reminded her patiently.
"But it's your pre-birthday!" Eddie argued, staggering over to them. "That deserves celebration!"
"You two can barely stand," Buck pointed out, holding Eddie's shoulder when he nearly fell backward. "Come on. I'm taking you home."
"You're boring," she grumbled, but allowed him to guide her out of the bar.
The night air hit the three of them like a thermal shock. Buck breathed in deeply, grateful for the cool breeze that contrasted with the stuffy, alcohol-filled air of the establishment. Eddie swayed, leaning heavily on his shoulder.
"Alright…" Buck murmured, adjusting his friend's weight. "Let's get you guys in the car."
The drive was short and relatively quiet, except for Eddie's occasional snores—he had fallen asleep in the passenger seat. She was in the back, humming softly to a song Buck didn't recognize, her head resting against the window.
First, they dropped off Eddie. Buck practically carried his friend to the front door, helping him find his keys and making sure he got to bed safely.
"You're the best friend in the world…" Eddie declared dramatically, already semi-conscious in bed.
"You're not going to think that tomorrow when you see the videos," Buck replied with a smile. "Goodnight, Eddie."
"Goodnight, Buck."
She was waiting in the car with her eyes closed when Buck returned. He tapped lightly on the window to wake her, and she slowly opened her eyes, a sleepy smile forming on her face.
"Hey, Buck!" she murmured, her voice still slurred by alcohol.
"Hey, sweetheart!" he imitated her tone, making her laugh. "Ready to go home?"
The drive to her apartment was even shorter. Buck parked and went to help her out of the car, keeping an arm firmly around her waist as she staggered toward the door.
"Your keys," he reminded her, extending his hand.
She furrowed her brows, pouting as she shoved her hands into her pockets. He waited patiently for her to fish out the keys. When she did, Buck extended his hand for her to give them to him, but instead she brought them to the keyhole. Or tried to.
With the same coordination she had when dancing, she was trying to fit the key into the lock.
Buck watched her miss six times before she lost her balance. Obviously, he prevented her from even getting close to the floor. His strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him, letting her steady herself again.
Buck heard her let out a laugh. Not one of those joke laughs. Not those scandalous, loud ones. One of those low, chuckling ones. As if she were embarrassed.
"You're strong," she said with that same laugh. Buck found it strange but didn't comment.
"Give me the key, sweetheart," he asked, gently taking the key from her hand. Afraid she might fall again, Buck didn't let go of her body while opening the door. Which made her let out another one of those laughs.
"Sooo strong!" she said, letting herself be carried into her apartment.
"I work out a lot," he joked. Buck tried to set her down on the floor, but her knees buckled like jelly. "Whoa! Got you!" he said more instinctively than he meant to. She laughed again. "What are you laughing at, huh?" he asked, setting her down again—this time, she stayed standing. She swayed from side to side, laughing as if he were telling jokes.
"Nothing…" she shrugged. "You should be a firefighter… You're so strong…" she placed her hands on Buck's biceps, who laughed at her.
"You're going to regret this so much tomorrow," he joked, knowing she was very drunk and the hangover would be horrible. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
"Oooh! Taking me to bed!" she hummed, practically being dragged by him. "Wanna play firefighter?"
"You're going to sleep," he said in a tone that made her pout.
He put her on the bed, took off her shoes, and wrapped her in the blanket. But before he could stand up and leave, he heard a sniffle.
"You can't be a firefighter!" she said, her voice trembling. Buck saw by the reflection of the lit lamp, tears in his friend's eyes.
He couldn't help but feel his heart tighten at that scene.
"What? Why are you crying?" he asked, sitting down next to her on the mattress. She sniffled again, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.
"Because you can't be a firefighter!" she said louder, slapping her hands on the blanket.
"Okay… Why can't I be a firefighter?" Buck asked, a little surprised by her reaction. She cried louder before answering:
"Because I already love a firefighter!" she sobbed. "I can't love two!" Buck's heart stopped.
"You… You love a firefighter?" she nodded. "Who?!" he felt his stomach churn. It was Eddie. He was sure of it. It could only be him.
"I can't say…" she huffed.
"Is it Eddie?" he asked, his mouth suddenly dry. She shook her head more dramatically than necessary. "Then who is it? Ravi?" Again she shook her head.
"I'm not telling!" she cried. "I'm not telling! You're going to leave and I'll never see you again!"
"What?" Buck asked, more confused than ever. "Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere," he said, trying to calm her crying, and it seemed to work—her sobs decreased and her tears seemed to dry. "How about we talk about this tomorrow? When you're sober. Hmm?" he asked, and she nodded. Buck pulled the blanket up to her neck, watching her snuggle in. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight, Buck," she said, her eyes already closing. He got up from the mattress, ready to leave and maybe have a few beers when he got home. After all, his longtime friend—and the woman he'd realized he felt more for than he should—had just confessed she was in love with someone else. He deserved a few beers to drown that feeling in his chest. "I love you, Buck."
He froze in place. His heart raced. His breathing grew heavier and he trembled.
"What?!" Buck turned to her, kneeling beside the bed and seeing that she was already asleep. "Sweetheart?! What did you say?!" Nothing. Just a mumble asking to be left to sleep in peace.
Buck stood still for a long moment, his heart beating uncontrollably in his chest. She loved him. Not Eddie. Not Ravi. Him. Buck.
He brought his hand to her face, wiping away the rest of her tears and smoothing her messy hair. He leaned in and let his lips rest on her relaxed forehead. Leaving a small kiss there.
"I… I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, not believing that his first "I love you"—first in many, many, many years—was to a woman who wouldn't even remember it the next day. But that was okay, he would remember for both of them.
Buck left the room, leaving the lamp still on in case she woke up in the middle of the night.
Buck stood still in the living room, the echo of her words resonating in his mind.
I love you, Buck.
And with a silly smile appearing on his face, he threw himself onto the sofa. Pulled a cushion as a pillow and stayed there.
The sunlight streaming through the window woke her with a pounding headache. She groaned, covering her eyes with her arm. Her stomach churned and her mouth tasted of something she preferred not to identify.
What had happened the night before? She remembered the bar, some shots… Dancing with Eddie… And then… Nothing. A complete blank.
With a monumental effort, she sat up in bed, waiting for the world to stop spinning. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she saw that she was still wearing last night's clothes, which explained why she was so uncomfortable.
She got up and headed to the bathroom. The shower water was cold, which quickly woke her from that lingering sleep that still clung to her body. After getting out of the shower and throwing on the first clothes she saw, she staggered to the kitchen. Coffee. She needed coffee.
However, when she left her room, the smell of food filled her apartment.
In the kitchen, Buck was at the stove, still in last night's clothes. He was moving something in a pan, and she could see he'd been busy—there was a stack of pancakes next to him, coffee, fresh bread, and even a fruit salad.
"Buck?!" she called, not hiding her surprise at seeing him there.
"Hey! Good morning, sunshine!" he turned, placing the scrambled eggs on a plate. You could tell they weren't plain eggs—they had tomatoes, bacon pieces, seasonings… Buck was no stranger to the kitchen. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pouring water into a glass and handing it to her.
"Wonderful," she murmured against the glass, clearly sarcastic. "What are you doing here?" she asked, placing the empty glass on the kitchen counter, next to the plates Buck was serving. She didn't have a table, after all.
"Don't you remember?" he asked with a slightly disappointed tone that made her frown.
"No," she was honest. "I remember having some… many shots. Dancing with Eddie and…" at that moment, a flash of memory invaded her mind.
She remembered Buck taking them home. Remembered laughing like a fool. Remembered flirting with him. Remembered… Oh.
"Oh no," she murmured, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh no, no, no, no." She heard the sound of Buck's laugh. Heard his footsteps approaching her.
"Relax… It wasn't that bad."
"Not that bad?! Buck!" she groaned, wishing the world would split open so she could be swallowed and disappear. "I said things!"
"You did," he confirmed, still laughing. But it wasn't a laugh of malice or cruelty. "Said some pretty interesting things."
"Buck," she lifted her head from her hands. "I'm so sorry. I was drunk and—"
"You said you loved me," he cut her off, taking one of her hands in his. "Is it true?" he asked.
She saw the look of hope. His hair full of rebellious curls, slightly flattened from the sofa. His beard a little longer from not being shaved. And a small, hopeful smile on his sweet lips.
"Is it true that you love me?" he asked again, moving a little closer.
"Yes," there was no way to hide it. No way to deny it looking into those eyes.
"Thank God," Buck said, using his other hand to guide her into a kiss. And thank God she'd brushed her teeth in the shower.
His lips had a slight taste of coffee and pancake sweetness—obviously, he'd been nibbling on them while making coffee. His big, strong hands wrapped around her body, pulling her even closer. While hers were content to rest on those strong muscles Buck had cultivated on his chest.
"Thank God it wasn't Eddie. Or Ravi."
"What?" she asked, confused. Certainly not what she expected to hear after a kiss.
"You said you loved a firefighter," he commented, smiling as she hid her face in his body. "I got a little… jealous thinking it was Eddie or Ravi."
"Could have been Bobby," she said in a teasing tone. "Or Hen. Or Chimmy." He rolled his eyes at each name, smiling at her tone.
"But it's me," now there was a pride in his voice she rarely heard. Buck tilted his head to kiss her again, quicker this time.
"Yes. It's you," she replied between kisses. "And you… Do you feel the same?" now her tone was insecure. Of course, she'd confessed. Of course, Buck had kissed her. But she needed to be sure.
"I love you. Have for a while now," he said without looking away or changing his tone.
She smiled at hearing that. Some pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
Almost a year ago, Buck had a relationship with a reporter. And when they broke up, the reporter placed the blame on her… Now she could imagine why.
"Can I take you out on a date today?" he asked, and she thanked all her lucky stars that today was her day off.
