I wildly vacillate between wanting hollanov to stay child free and be the rich guncles to the Pike's gaggle of children who spend their retirement attempting to re-enact the Kamasutra,,, but then I think about what having a kid would mean for hollanov's respective arcs and how Shane would be the sunscreen dad at the pool and Ilya would be the dad throwing their child into the deep end and making them emerge from the water giggling "Again again!" and I'm TORN!!! IM SO TORN!!!
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗Keeps stealing glances at you, but it's literally so obvious, it's painful
"So, Isagi-san, what did you think of today's match's outcome?" You asked, turning to him.
Isagi , who had been silently glancing at you, flinched, his eyebrows shooting upwards, cheeks turning an adorable pink.
"Uh... me?" He pointed at himself, looking very much like a dear caught in clear daylight.
"Yes, you." You chuckled.
At your slight laughter, Isagi went even more red.
"Oh... uh, it was great. Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you.
When you inclined your head to continue, Isagi 's mind went blank.
He blurted, "I think you're really pretty."
You shot him a confused look.
"UH, I mean, the match went pretty. Pretty well." He poorly corrected himself.
You eyed him amusedly. "Oh? Care to share some of your insight for your adoring fans?"
"My... insight?" Isagi repeated, a little breathless.
Because it was warm. Because he was warm. From the match.
(The match had already concluded three hours prior).
"Uhm... there were some really good... uh... plays." Isagi answered, stealing a glance at you, only to see that you were already looking at him.
His eyes widened, darting away. "And... uh..." What the hell was he even talking about? "Rin had some nice saves."
"Rin?" You tilted your head, "He wasn't in today's match, was he?"
"Oh! Oh." Isagi's lips parted, his eyes flicking from left to right to come up with an answer.
"Uh... I meant... he would have made a few good saves if he were in the game. You know... with uhm..." He faltered.
You nodded at him, beckoning him to continue, eyes attentively set on him. Isagi swallowed arduously.
His throat ran dry. Isagi coughed.
The silence stretched on.
He had to answer, now.
But with what? Rin with... with what?!
You were still looking at him, eyes expectant and so pretty-
"Pretty eyes." Isagi blurted out.
You frowned, confusion on your face. "Pretty eyes?"
Isagi went bright red. He could hear Bachira next to him shaking, doing a poor job of concealing his gleeful cackles at Isagi's predicament.
"Uh... did I say pretty eyes?" Isagi chuckled. It was strained and awkward.
"What I meant to say was... uh... predator's vision? Like when... when your vision of the field becomes really limited, you know?" He finished rather lamely.
"...Yeah." You slowly nodded your head, eyeing him with a mix of befuddlement and concern.
Then you turned to Bachira next to him, and Isagi could breathe a little bit easier. Though, his heartbeat didn't settle down, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.
Keep it together, Isagi. He said to himself. He was a goddamn world class footballer. He didn't do nervosity.
He had faced off Itoshi Rin and survived.
He had led Japan to the World Cup and carved his name in the football world.
He had become the top striker of his generation.
There was no way he was going to start being nervous now.
But he still felt his heart doing a little jump every time you looked at him.
Bachira Meguru
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Just sits close to you, his eyes barely leaving you
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗Thinks every question is directed at him
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗Is just one ball of sunshine, especially when your attention is on him
"So... Isagi-san, what is your opinion about how Japan has thus far fared in the World Cup?"
"Oh, well I think--"
"We're doing amazing! Did you see my super special dribble?" Bachira excitedly interjected.
"Dude." Isagi nudged him, an unimpressed expression on his face. "That was my question."
"Oh! Oh." Bachira deflated, sitting back again.
You chuckled. "Don't worry Bachira-san, you'll get the next one."
Bachira's eyes lit up at that, but they dwindled when you directed your attention on Isagi again.
Isagi began talking again. Bachira leaned back in his seat.
He bounced his leg impatiently, Isagi's thorough analysis on Japan's performance fading into the background.
Bachira's eyes flicked to yours, his bottom lip jutting out a little when you actually seemed captivated in Isagi's story.
Bachira eyed the two of you suspiciously, noting that Isagi was also sitting the closest to you.
Pursing his lips, Bachira stood up.
Isagi shot him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"This seat is uncomfortable. Can I sit there?"
Bachira pointed at Isagi.
You let out a snort. "You want to sit on Isagi's lap?"
Isagi guffawed, going bright red. "PR, PR!" He hissed at Bachira. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Move!" Bachira whispered back.
"Wait, what? Wha--" Isagi yelped as Bachira shoved him aside.
With a straight face, Bachira sat down, not even looking at Isagi, who was on the ground, mouth hanging wide open.
"Dude."
Bachira tactfully ignored Isagi, flashing you a bright grin, as if nothing had occurred in the past few seconds.
"You wanted to ask me a question?"
Itoshi Rin
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ He's really quiet during the interview, like, he'll answer questions, but just the bare minimum.
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Avoids eye contact like the plague, but he'll try to steal a look at you the moment your gaze is elsewhere
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ When he's caught looking, he'll freeze up, scowl fixed on his face. But if you look closely, you can see that the tips of his ears have turned a handsome red
"So, Rin-san, how did you think the match went?"
Rin's face was stoic, looking at the cement wall behind you.
"...It went well."
"You've scored a magnificent goal during the game, how did you pull that off?"
"...Just predicting the game and being in the right position."
Rin sighed, glancing to the side. Looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
A tense silence fell.
You coughed, forcing a strained smile on your face.
"Rin." Isagi made a face at him. Rin raised an eyebrow.
You chuckled awkwardly, shuffling your cards. Were there any questions left?
With the way Rin had curtly and concisely answered the questions, you had rushed through the interview, with no more inquiries at hand.
It was clear Rin wasn't in the mood to field any questions: clear avoidance of direct eye contact, standoffish demeanour, and closed-off answers.
They were all tell-tale signs that Rin was itching to just leave.
You sighed, heart sinking in your chest.
You had been hoping to hold this interview with Rin since months now, being an avid admirer of his intricate playstyle and his tactics on the field.
However, it seemed that the sentiment wasn't returned.
"Well, I guess we'll wrap it up for today," You said, hiding the disappointment in your voice.
You looked up from your cards to say goodbye to both Isagi and Rin.
Your eyes met teal, irridescent ones.
Rin's eyes were dazed, a soft edge to them. A stark contrast to the cold look in them during the interview.
You tilted your head curiously.
Noticing you looking, Rin's eyebrows rose. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a flustered look flashing in them, lips parting slightly.
He looked away, jaw tensed, and the moment was over.
Your eyebrows went high, intrigue welling up.
...Or maybe the sentiment was returned.
It was in the minute details, you assumed.
When Isagi nudged Rin playfully, shooting a knowing grin his way, which maybe meant Rin tolerated you, that was only an assumption.
When Rin's ears turned a lovely red when he looked at you, that was also only an assumption.
But when you shook Rin's hand, and looked him in the eye, that was only confirmation.
Michael Kaiser
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Flirts. Charms. Is not professional at all. "Accidentally" lets diminutives slip.
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Either answers questions about himself in a cocky manner, or is the one asking you the questions.
"So, Kaiser, in the last match, you managed to pull off a move called the "Magnus Impact", how did you do that?"
"Well..." Kaiser said, a confident quirk to his lips, "It's an unparalleled move of mine, and it paid off." He answered simply.
Then, he shifted, leaning his head on his arm, his eyes shooting to yours. "But what about you? How did you pull off that good look of yours?"
You choked.
"Wha--?" Your eyes went wide, spluttering.
Excuse me?"
Kaiser leaned in, his finger brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch leaving goosebumps on your skin.
"I know that my Magnus Impact is based off on my pure talent. I'm guessing your lovely look is natural, too, no?"
"Oh-- uhm..." You didn't know what to say. "I... guess?"
Kaiser hummed, leaning back in his seat again. "Thought so."
When the proximity between you two lessened, you let out a breath, quickly fixing your eyes on your question paper.
However, unbeknownst to you, Kaiser was still looking at you, eyes roaming over your features, a pensive expression on his face.
"Though, why did you choose to pursue this interview career of yours? You could've easily made the highway, Schätzchen."
"Huh?" Your head shot up from your cards.
"Mhm... lovely smile, natural blush, mesmerising eyes. And above all, a charming personality." Kaiser winked at you.
"Oh... uhm, I--" Didn't know what to answer. "Thanks?"
Kaiser let out a handsome chuckle, pushing the bangs out of his face. "Liebe, no need to thank me for your attractiveness, I'm only calling attention to the objective facts."
Your face went red.
"Though, if I might share my subjective opinion," Kaiser said, voice teetering on low.
"I'd say you're the prettiest girl I've ever met." His voice was barely above a whisper, a teasing edge to it.
The air was punched out of your lungs.
What in the Wattpad was happening?
"Uhm..." You cleared your throat. "While I do appreciate your compliments about my... looks, let's keep it professional, shall we?"
Kaiser smiled slightly, before nodding. "Whatever the lady wants. Fire away any questions you want to ask." The corners of his lips quirked upwards.
You inclined your head, shuffling through your cards.
Kaiser tilted his head,chancing a glance at your cards, an amused undertone to his voice. "Though, only professional ones."
A flush overtook your features.
The rest of the interview went swimmingly.
Kaiser expressed in detailed display his opinion and was consistent in his answers, so it came as no surprise that you could wrap up your interview early.
"Well, that went fast." You said in a surprised tone.
You stuck out your hand. "Thank you so much for your time, Kaiser."
A smile played on Kaiser's lips. "The pleasure was all mine."
You turned around to leave, but fingers gently clasped around your wrist, lightly tugging you back.
You came face to face with Kaiser.
"Oh... hi?"
"Hi." He said softly. "You have some time left?"
You checked your watch. You had a break scheduled now, so yeah.
You nodded.
Kaiser sat back down, gesturing for you to do the same.
Obliging, you retook your seat, a confused look in your eyes.
Kaiser leaned back in his chair.
You eyed him, puzzled.
"Well?" Kaiser tilted one eyebrow. "Don't tell me you don't have any questions for me, miss Journalist."
"...questions?" You repeated.
A handsome grin flitted on Kaiser's lips, he raised his eyebrows, his eyes falling on your cards.
"I... alright, but I'll have to go in an hour." You conceded, not wanting to pass up on this opportunity.
Kaiser tilted his head. "Whatever the lady wants. Fire away any question you have."
Your eyes widened, giving him an inquiring look.
"...unproffesional ones are allowed, too." Kaiser drawled.
You are an indie game programmer who designed an online ‘choose your own adventure’ style game where the player gets to go on a journey of learning how to exorcise their dead ex boyfriend who keeps haunting them. The boyfriend is lovingly named Ghost because he’s always wearing a mask to hide his rotting face. The game has ten chapters and if you play your cards right, then you can be free of his haunting and live your life peacefully. The ending screen has a final dialogue from him that says “I will wait for you.”
The game is sensational. The entire world is playing it, and you’re getting job offers left and right. It’s all overwhelming at first, but you decide to get comfortable with your newfound fame by giving a guest presentation at a local university.
Except, a week before your presentation, while you are playing the game all over again to check for any inconsistencies in the code or story, you notice that Ghost doesn’t say his usual line in the last chapter. You message one of your programmer friends who helped you develop the code for the game and they deny changing the final dialogue.
Your followers on your gaming forum don’t seem to have similar complaints so you try to go through the codes again, only to find that it has been untouched. Weird.
You feel static on the back of your neck as you reread the final dialogue in the last chapter: “I will find you.”
"Rumors are circulating about someone plotting to destroy the vampire kingdom. To prove their innocence, the mortal realm decides to propose a peace treaty with their leader. Unfortunately for them, their only vampire ally, Pomni, doesn't seem to get along at all with the king of the vampire nation, Jax.
Together, they must discover who is trying to destroy them: fairies, elves, shapeshifters, sorcerers, or perhaps even their own kind."
So… guess who came back with this idea? NADHJAA I'm still working on it in my brain but I swear I never abandoned it.
it rarely happens, but every once in a while, established buddie goes on a little trip outside of la so they can go out and buck can be antagonistic, picking a fight with some douchebag all so eddie can swoop in to protect him. and after they get kicked out of whatever bar, they go fuck about it in the hotel room they rented for the night and then buck will grab ice for eddie's black eye or sore knuckles and they'll order room service and have a bubble bath together in the deep jacuzzi tub
notes: in the mess of my wip folder there's the beginning of a story where buck and tommy, after bobby's death, leave LA and start a new life in southern new jersey, going mostly no contact with the 118 until athena comes to them five years later. they're married with two kids in that story, and this is the story of how they got those kids.
this got long, but i probably won't put it on the ao3 until the rest of the story is written (if it happens!) so. uh. here you go.
---
Buck wasn't being held hostage in his captain's office by a six-year-old girl, but he wasn't… not being held hostage by a six-year-old girl.
"Who's there?" Layla demands, pointing at the door.
"That's my captain," Buck says easily, meeting Captain Reynolds's eyes. He minutely shakes his head, so Cap holds up a big transparent Ziploc bag to the door's window. "Looks like he brought lunch for us. I can go get it, and you and Bailey stay right here."
"Okay but he can't come in," Layla says. Bailey, her two-year-old brother, sniffles and holds onto Buck's belt loop as he tries to get up. "Bailey, he's coming back, he's bringing lunch."
Buck gently pries Bailey's hand off his belt, holds it between his own for a second, then walks carefully to the door and opens it just wide enough for the bag to slip through.
"Tommy's here, so are the state adoption officials," Reynolds whispers. "You sure about this?"
"Buck!" Layla screams. "He can't come in!"
Buck nods, takes the bag and shuts the door securely behind him. "Alright, how do we feel about applesauce? Ooh, I haven't seen this before: blueberry applesauce? I don't get it. Huh. It's applesauce that tastes like blueberries?"
He sits on the floor again, Bailey between him and Layla. Bailey eagerly gets close to Buck again and looks into the bag, pulling things out and holding them out to Layla curiously. Layla doesn't like being on the outside, though, so she comes around and sits in front of them.
"Alright, so, while we eat," Buck says, popping open some veggies and hummus for Bailey. Layla examines the sandwiches inside and settles on tuna fish, which surprises him. "My husband's here. Tommy. I told you about Tommy."
"You can't leave," Layla says immediately.
"I didn't say I was gonna," Buck says. "But he'd like to meet you guys, if you want."
"Why?"
Buck didn't think this is how it would happen, but it's not like anything else in his life has gone normally before. Ever. Ever.
"Last year, we put ourselves in the state adoption registry," Buck says, keeping cool. "And maybe… maybe we could adopt both of you."
Layla stops chewing and stares at him. Bailey wants another carrot stick and another fistful of hummus, so Buck helps him with that.
"Both of us," Layla says. "Or no deal."
"We want both of you," Buck agrees. "I grew up with a big sister and I wouldn't be who I am without her. She's everything to me. Tommy doesn't have any brothers or sisters, but he wanted them as a kid, so we said that in our paperwork: we want to adopt siblings, if we could." Buck smiles at her. "So maybe this is a good deal for all four of us."
Layla takes another bite of her sandwich, watching him suspiciously. "Bailey likes you," she says finally. "He hasn't yelled since we got here."
"I like him, too," Buck says. "And I like you. Maybe you guys will like Tommy. I hope you do. I like him a lot. I love him."
"Why don't you already have kids?" Layla asks.
"Well, we didn't feel ready until now. Kinda feels like things are lining up for us, all of us."
Layla hmphs to herself. She looks at Bailey, who's thrilled with his hummus situation and sitting in Buck's lap. "Bailey, let's meet this other guy. Maybe he's not so bad, either."
"He's great," Buck says. "Best guy I know. Wouldn't have married him if he wasn't."
"Yeah, okay," Layla says.
"I'm gonna use my radio," Buck says, reaching for the mic clipped on his shirt. "Cap, this is Buck. Tommy can come in, just Tommy, over."
"Copy that, sending him in, over."
"You guys really talk like that? Why don't you just say okay?"
"Easier for emergencies," Buck says. "Okay sounds like too many things; copy that, roger, over, not a lot of words that sound like that. It's important when things around you are too loud or you can't say much."
Layla nods and then whips around when there's a knock at the door. Tommy has both his hands up and Layla flips back to Buck. "That's him?"
"Yup, that's Tommy," Buck says. "Can I let him in?"
"Okay, but if he tries to take us away—"
"He's just here to sit with us, get to know you guys," Buck replies. He tries to get Bailey out of his lap, but he fusses and clutches Buck tighter. "Okay, let's both—"
"Don't go anywhere," Layla says sharply. "Don't take him anywhere. Open the door and then come back."
Buck leans in close and meets her eyes. "I'm not leaving, okay? And neither are you, until you and Bailey want to. I promise."
She stares right back at him. "I don't believe you."
Buck's only met her twice, but he knows that face and how much she wants to believe him.
"Believe me a little, please." She doesn't agree, but doesn't argue either, so Buck stands up and balances Bailey on his hip. "Boy, you are a big guy," Buck says, bouncing him a little. He lets Tommy in, then shuts the door behind him again. "Come on in, we're just having lunch."
It must have been a classroom day for Tommy in his (relatively) new job training medevac pilots, so he's dressed in his best responsible nerd chic: a button down shirt with a V-neck sweater over it. Perfect for convincing the state adoption agency that they're responsible potential parents, even if one of them has been trapped in the captain's office for almost two hours. As they look at each other, though, the mature silver fox instructor look gives way to pure Tommy: what the fuck are you doing/are we doing this/alright I guess we're doing this/christ now we're here aren't we/guess we're rolling with it. His face takes a real journey as they cross the room to where Layla is still sitting, watching them suspiciously.
"Layla, Bailey, this is Tommy Kinard," Buck says. "Tommy, this is Layla Hoffman, age six, and Bailey Hoffman, age two."
Tommy nods, hands at his sides. "Nice to meet you. Can I sit?"
"Fine," Layla says. She doesn't make room for Tommy, so Tommy folds himself up the best he can next to her, across from Buck and Bailey. "Tommy, why do you want kids?"
"Right out the gate, huh?" To Tommy's credit, he doesn't blink. Buck could swoon if he wasn't playing it so, so cool.
Layla points at Buck. "He's really nice and hasn't lied to us yet, and Bailey likes him. What about you?"
"Well, I also don't lie to children," Tommy says. "And…" He looks across to Buck, eyebrows up by his hairline. "And it's not just me. We both want kids. We want a family."
"You like kids?"
"I do."
"Someone at the adoption center told me to stop being a little jerk or I'd never get adopted," Layla says. "Are you gonna get rid of us if I'm a little jerk?"
"Absolutely not, and I can't believe someone said that," Tommy says, glancing with horror at Buck, who's hearing this for the first time, too. "You're kids. You're going through stuff for the first time. Of course it's gonna be a lot. You're gonna feel how you feel."
Layla looks at Buck seriously. "Good answer."
Buck can't help preening a little. "Told you. He's a good guy."
"Yeah, maybe," Layla says. "Okay. You can hold Bailey."
Tommy hums to himself as he takes in Bailey, who's getting his face wiped clean of hummus while the conversation goes on around him. "Seems like he's busy."
Layla tugs at Bailey's hand and points at Tommy. Buck watches him turn curious, so he gets him to stand up near Tommy. He fusses a little to be away from Buck, but Tommy's solid and steadies him right away. He stands behind Tommy and drapes his arms on Tommy's shoulders, chin leaning against Tommy's head. He looks at Layla and Buck like, okay, this guy's fine.
"Tommy's got that effect on everyone," Buck says to Layla. "He's so cool."
Tommy gives Buck a look as he answers dryly, "I put my socks on one at a time, just like anyone else. And I make really good pancakes."
Layla's skeptical. "Better than IHOP? What makes them really good?"
"Love, patience, and more butter than I should admit to," Tommy says, glancing at Buck. "Sorry. That's my secret."
"Yeah, not that much of a secret," Buck replies, then assures Layla, "but they're really good."
She nods and then, to Buck's surprise, comes around and sits next to Buck, side-by-side. "So what happens now?"
"Well, I'd like to eat this sandwich, and maybe you and me can watch Tommy try to win Bailey over."
"He already did. Bailey screams right away if he doesn't like someone."
"Good to know," Tommy says, still in Bailey's clutches.
"But what happens to us? Are we getting in trouble?" Layla looks into Buck's face with her piercing eyes. "Are you really gonna try to adopt us or are you just saying that so we get out of here?"
"So, I talked to the state adoption people outside," Tommy says, motioning to the door. "We had a home visit before we submitted our paperwork so…" He glances at Buck, who nods. No time like the present. "So we can take you home, if you want to come with us. Both of you."
"You'd have to share a room for tonight, both of you, but we have a room for each of you," Buck says. "We can shop for stuff tomorrow. Pick out your own bed, sheets and blankets, whatever you need. Your stuff."
"And Bailey's," Layla says.
"And Bailey's," Tommy agrees.
"Are you gonna get fired?" Layla asks Buck, eyes glancing at the door. "Because I locked us in here?"
"Nah, Cap loves kids, he's got three," Buck replies. "No one got hurt, you didn't set any fires—"
"It's a firehouse, you can handle fires," Layla says.
"Yeah, but we didn't have to," Buck replies. "So what do you say? Do you want to try us out as your adopted dads?"
"I finally have a good excuse to put that tire swing in the yard," Tommy says.
Buck gasps. "I'm not a good excuse?"
"That's not what I meant."
Layla touches Buck's shoulder to get his attention. "You drive a hard bargain, but okay."
"Yeah? Okay?"
"Yeah," Layla says, standing up. "Let's see how good you guys are at this dad thing."
Buck's trying not to scream or cry as he stands up from the floor. One minute he was Buck, the next he was a dad. Isn't that how it always happens? "First thing's first: let's clean all this up and put it in the trash."
"Is this a chore?" She thinks of something. "Do we get an allowance?"
"We'll talk about it," Buck says. "Do you think Bailey can be paid off in celery sticks?"
"Can you be paid off in celery sticks?" Tommy asks Layla.
"Cash only," she says.
Buck helps Tommy stand, too, and gets Bailey situated on his hip. "You've got an incredible vocabulary," Tommy informs her.
"Thanks! I hate reading and I love TV."
"You haven't met our book collection," Buck says. "We'll find you something you like."
"Yeah, and no Seinfeld until you're 12," Tommy replies.
"I don't know what that is."
"Fantastic."
When they emerge from the office onto the main floor of the firehouse, there's a wave of applause from everyone gathered: Buck's usual crew and the staff from the state adoption agency.
"Remember what you said," Layla whispers as she grabs Buck's hand tightly, then Tommy's, too. "You said you're keeping us, both of us."
"We are," Buck says, his heart quietly breaking and mending itself, all at once. He looks behind at Tommy; exhaustion and lunch have suddenly hit Bailey, so he's on Tommy's hip and dozing on his shoulder like he belongs there.
"Congratulations," Captain Reynolds informs them. "Looks like negotiations went well?" He says to Layla, "Thank you for giving me my lieutenant back. And my office."
"So far so good," Buck says, Layla gripping his hand with all of her strength. "Okay if I take some time off, Cap?"
He nods at Buck, and at Tommy, too; they like each other a lot, and he looks just as happy for Tommy as he does for Buck. "Give us a call if you need anything, like another rescue."
"You got it," Buck says, then meets Tommy's eyes. "But I don't think we will."
"I don't think we will," Tommy agrees.
---
Buck doesn't think it'll happen again, but Bailey and Layla are asleep in the guest room by 9:30, completely conked out. Buck and Tommy leave the door ajar behind them with two nightlights gently glowing in the dark room, then head down the hall to their room.
"Okay, so what the hell did we do today?" Tommy whispers as he shuts the door most of the way closed. "I got to the office at 8 AM, no kids, and I got home at 7 PM, plus two kids. What."
"Life comes at you fast," Buck says, though he forgot the movie it's from. "Are—"
"Am I okay with it? Yeah, for the 500th time today: yes. Yes." He rests his hands on both sides of Buck's face and kisses him. "Yes, absolutely yes."
Buck kisses him, too, then pulls away laughing. "Oh, wow, she's—Layla's a handful."
"You're already so in love with the six-year-old who took you hostage in your own station."
"She reminds me of you," Buck says, joking and not. She does, though. Those sharp edges, that tough shell to crack, the way she finally sidled up to Buck and let him take care of her—that's a Tommy girl, through and through.
As Buck understood it and relayed to Tommy, with help from the state adoption officials: Layla and Bailey had been orphaned close to a year ago and had no other living relatives, but they had yet to find a long-term family. People were scared off by Layla, and Bailey was (according to Layla) too sensitive for the temporary locations where they had already been placed.
Today happened because they had already met Buck before on a scene last week, when there was a small fire at the adoption center where Layla and Bailey were staying. Captain Reynolds had invited all the kids to Engine Co. 19 for a special visit and safety presentation, where they ran into Buck again.
"And Bailey remembered you?" Tommy asks.
"I think it's the tattoo on my arm. He spotted it and waved me down, then Layla recognized me."
"And then she disappeared with her toddler brother, you found them in Reynolds's office, and she took you hostage in your own station. Got it. And now they're our kids."
"And now they're our kids," Buck agrees.
Tommy nods and takes Buck's hand. "Our usual hardware store doesn't open until nine tomorrow, so I'm gonna drive to the big box store when they open at seven so I can get as much babyproofing and kid stuff as I can find. I'll come right back and I can make breakfast, as promised."
"Hey." Buck tucks his finger under Tommy's chin and turns his face to him. "Thanks for following my lead. For—for this."
"Are you kidding? Bypass the whole waiting process and get two kids dropped right in our laps? It could only happen to you. I'm just lucky I'm here."
"I'm lucky you're here," Buck says, kissing him again.
"Alright, if you insist."
Buck laughs against his mouth and kisses Tommy again, lost in the kiss until his phone is in his hand and he can start making a list of supplies Tommy will be picking up before breakfast tomorrow. "Eyes down here, Kinard," Buck says, waving his phone, but Tommy has to sneak one more kiss before focusing on the first of their many, many checklists.
