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Chapter Text

It all started with a margarita. 

Alright, no, obviously that wasn’t quite true. 

It started years before that, way back when they first embarked on their journey from being the Grant household to becoming the Grant-Nash household. May had lived around first responders her entire life so it hadn’t come as much of a surprise that Bobby was close with his crew and would spend time with them outside of work, including by inviting them over for barbecues and gatherings. 

The people themselves weren’t even all that unfamiliar: Hen and her mom had been friends for years, and Chimney was Hen’s best friend so neither of them were uncommon visitors. 

Ultimately, while there were more gatherings once Bobby moved in, there weren’t actually all that many new faces to get used to.

One of those new faces was Buck, who May had only vaguely heard about in various conversations. Those had given her enough information to glean that he was part of Bobby’s inner circle at the station alongside Hen and Chim and a new firefighter named Eddie. 

The first time she met Buck, May remembered thinking that he was probably the most stereotypical California firefighter in existence. His height, his muscles, his perfectly coiffed blond hair, pale skin and sparkling blue eyes all painted a certain picture about what his personality would be like and May had been sure that they would only ever exchange polite greetings at these group gatherings before she would try and find her escape in case he tried talking to her about protein shakes or his latest gym regime. 

Two realisations occurred in quick succession which completely derailed that first impression. 

The first came when Harry tried to steal a brownie pan which had been set aside to cool while everyone ate their fill of the barbecue. It was the first time Christopher had come over to their house and Harry insisted that Chris ‘needed to properly experience Bobby’s brownies’ which couldn’t possibly happen if the adults got to have the dish first. 

May thought that he probably just wanted to impress Chris and Denny but, well, who was she to stop him. She was fairly certain he would be caught before he managed to abscond with the fudgy bounty anyway. 

As she expected, Harry returned to the spare room (the designated ‘kids zone’ at these gatherings, since it had its own television that their games consoles could be connected to) and said that Buck had come inside right as he was trying to sneak out of the kitchen.

What she hadn’t expected was for Mr Perfect Firefighter to follow him into the room, laughing about Harry’s lack of subtlety and carrying the brownie pan. 

“Not even any spoons?” Buck gasped, surveying the room with one hand over his heart. “What sort of a plan do you call this, huh?” 

“Last week you said desserts shouldn’t need spoons, Buck,” Christopher said, giggling at Buck’s dramatics. 

“Ah, you got me there, bud,” Buck agreed, beaming across at the three boys looking expectantly at the dish in his hands. “I suppose hands are a perfectly good utensil for brownies.” He spun the dish with a flourish and plunked it down in front of the boys. 

May laughed at the way all three of them dove right in to pull out a large handful of the gooey chocolate treat that they then tried to eat carefully without losing too many crumbs to the floor. 

Buck was smiling fondly at the trio when she glanced over at him. When he caught her eye, he shrugged ruefully. “Eddie did tell me that I would regret telling Christopher that…” 

May laughed again, this time more from disbelief. “I think you’ll regret giving them those brownies at all.” 

Despite their best efforts not to waste any of the precious brownie, plenty of dark crumbs were falling onto the floor. Harry had already decided he needed a top-up and was reaching back into the tin for more. 

At least Buck had shown some foresight by placing the tin on the hardwood floor rather than the rug they’d been sitting on. If Athena didn’t kill them for Grand Theft Brownie, she definitely would have if they’d gotten crumbs all over the rug. 

“Nah,” Buck said affably with that same fond smile. “I’m sure you guys will appreciate it a lot more. Although let’s make sure we leave some for May, yeah?” He swooped in and picked up the tray again, holding it a few inches above the ground to let Chris and Denny get their seconds. 

She took a slightly more civilised approach when he held it out for her, pulling out a rough square of brownie from one of the corners that the boys hadn’t gotten to, cupping her other hand underneath it in an attempt to stop more crumbs from ending up on the floor.

“Alright, I’m going to collect my tax and then I suggest you all work on getting rid of the remaining evidence,” Buck announced, eyeing the half-destroyed brownie. His hands were huge, so when he ripped off his own handful he got close to a quarter of the pan. 

Harry tried to strike up an indignant protest about the taxes being unfair but Buck waved it off with another laugh that was thick and muffled from the giant glob of brownie he’d shoved in his mouth. 

“Gotta make sure you all don’t end up too high on sugar,” he quipped, winking at May on his way out the door. “Don’t forget to let May have some more as well!”

The exchange proved that Buck was apparently more of a kind-hearted goof (who seemed to have a decent fondness for chocolate) than the stereotypical self-absorbed, fitness-obsessed gym-bro that his appearance might suggest.

Somewhat ironically, she did overhear him talking about protein shakes later on during that same gathering. However, it only served to solidify the shift in her perception of him because it was during a conversation about names and he somehow knew that the inventor of protein shakes had changed his name because a psychic had told him he’d have more luck if his name had more ‘r’s. 

Both she and her mom had been surprised by the random example – May even googled it and it was actually true – and Hen had laughed and told them that Buck loved ‘a good research spiral’ and would often bring up obscure little facts that he’d come across during one of his deep dives into a topic. Sometimes it was because he wanted to liven up a conversation and sometimes it was simply because he was so enthusiastic about his new knowledge that he wanted to share it.  

“Golden retriever that he is,” Hen had added affectionately, grinning at Buck who had now pivoted to arguing about the impact of the full moon on their job, a subject which made Bobby groan and playfully grumble something like “Not again, kid.” 

Hen was not the type of person who would tolerate some hypermasculine white dude’s antics so the fact that she was so openly fond of Buck only corroborated May’s changing idea of what he was like.  

Which was good, because her second realisation was that she was going to be seeing Buck a lot more often than initially anticipated. 

That particular realisation formed more slowly because there wasn’t really one single event which triggered it, rather a series of smaller moments. 

Like the time they had plans to go Christmas shopping with Bobby, and they ended up meeting him at a cafe near his apartment where he’d been having breakfast with Buck. 

Or the time that Buck had ended up on a concussion watch on a night that Bobby was having dinner with them and Bobby proceeded to spend the entire evening periodically texting Buck to check in on him. The one time that Buck didn’t respond to his text within five minutes, Bobby tried calling him, also with no response. 

By the time Buck called him back a few minutes later, Bobby already had his keys in hand and one shoe on. He didn’t end up leaving, but he did disappear into the backyard (sans keys, but still with only one shoe on) to talk with him. May couldn’t hear what was said, but the worry lines around his eyes when he returned inside spoke volumes despite the reflexive smile he gave when they asked how Buck was. 

And then there were the anecdotes that Bobby sometimes shared about Buck.

Bobby telling them stories about his crew and his shifts wasn’t unusual, so at first May assumed it was more of the same. 

However, it didn’t take long for her to notice that there were small, subtle differences. Some were easier to pick up on, like the fact that Bobby was mentoring Buck in the kitchen and not just in the field, which seemed to be something that was unique to their relationship because he never mentioned sharing recipes with Hen or Chimney or Eddie. 

But there was also definitely something else that niggled at the back of her head even though she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. 

Then she happened to overhear her dad telling one of his friends about Harry’s latest escapade, his voice tinged in fond exasperation, and all of a sudden it came to her that Bobby would use that exact same tone when he was talking about one of Buck’s escapades.

And once that piece of the puzzle slotted into place, more followed: Bobby would always farewell Buck with either a ‘drive safe’ or a directive to sleep or eat, just like her mom did with her ever since she got her licence and a loosened curfew; Buck would needle Bobby in the exact same way she and Harry would needle their dad; the enthusiasm Buck exhibited about Bobby’s proposal mirrored May and Harry’s reaction when their mom told them the news. 

It had been obvious that Bobby shared a close connection with Buck, but that was the moment where she finally understood that it was a different sort of connection to the one that her Mom had with Hen or the one that Bobby had with the rest of his crew, even that inner circle he was especially close with. 

Their connection was more similar to the one she and Harry had with their soon-to-be stepfather. 

The whole ladder truck incident only served to further cement that view. That entire period in time was a bit of a blur, between the stupefying horror that their house was almost bombed, the terror of the 118’s engine actually getting bombed, Buck’s catastrophic injury, and Mom and Bobby deciding it was the perfect time to elope.

But the aftermath was calmer and slower, allowing them to properly experience the changes in their lives. 

Like Bobby moving into their house, which meant that May and Harry got a front-row view of how much Bobby fussed over Buck after the injury. 

They also got to enjoy the spoils of the many and varied comfort dishes that Bobby created to try and encourage Buck to eat more and get his mind off of what was turning out to be an arduous and difficult recovery, so they certainly weren’t complaining about it. 

And they found Buck to be good company anyway, even though May could tell that he was often struggling and in pain. He ended up at their house for lunch or dinner relatively often, especially once he started his physiotherapy sessions since Bobby was accompanying him to as many appointments as his schedule allowed and then bringing him over afterwards. 

Mom would do a bit of her own understated fussing, usually by plying Buck with tea and striking up a conversation about anything other than his recovery; Harry would pull Buck into playing some videogames with him; and May would use him as a sounding board for her assignments. He had an excellent knack for knowing exactly what kind of encouragement she needed even if he didn’t have the specific knowledge to help.

May had always loved being the oldest and she never would have thought that she would enjoy gaining an older sibling. But having Buck around was comfortable and May was quite content with the idea that this was now their new normal.

Except then Buck got better, they organised a giant surprise party, Buck threw up a whole lot of blood on Bobby, that then led to Buck and Bobby having some sort of massive argument (“Oh, we are staying well out of that,” Athena had said firmly when May tried to ask for more details), they supposedly reconciled and everything supposedly returned to normal… 

Except Buck stopped coming around as often. 

At first, May thought maybe things were still frosty or difficult between Bobby and Buck – it seemed feasible given her limited knowledge of the argument and reconciliation.  

That theory was shot down when she came home from a sleepover a little earlier than the estimate she’d given her mom and Bobby, and she ran into Buck putting on his shoes in the front entryway. 

He was holding a large tupperware container that was filled with slices of what appeared to be a flat chocolate cake. 

“It’s a flourless cake, not a failed cake,” Buck explained when he noticed May staring at it, puzzled.   

“Right,” May said slowly, still confused about what circumstances had led to Buck being in their house on a Saturday morning with a tupperware full of flourless chocolate cake. 

“Chris has a new friend who is gluten-intolerant and he wanted to make sure that his contribution to their class party was something they could also eat,” Buck expanded.

He was wobbling on one foot, the other in the air as he attempted to get his shoe on properly with the hand not holding the container. May took it from his hand with a judgmental roll of her eyes at his refusal to take the extra two seconds to put the thing down. 

“I can manage a decent chocolate cake now, but flourless is beyond my skill set so I asked Bobby to help me out.” 

“Wish I’d been here to try it,” May commented, wondering why Bobby hadn’t mentioned it to her when she was sharing her plans before leaving last night. Perhaps it had been a last minute request early this morning? She could see Buck thinking he had a handle on things and then panicking when the recipe turned out to be more complicated or because something went wrong.  

“Don’t worry, Bobby made one as well,” Buck assured her, accepting the container back once he had both his shoes on. “I got, like, triple the ingredients when I went shopping yesterday to make sure you guys would also have one even if something went wrong.”

Alright, so not a last minute request then. 

“You sure you don’t want to stay and dig into it, since you have to give yours away?” May asked, watching as Buck fished his keys out of his jacket pocket. 

He shook his head with a cheerful grin. “Nah, I don’t want to take up anymore of your family Saturday. Enjoy the cake!” 

Bobby must not have heard her and Buck talking, because when she entered the kitchen he told her that there was cake for her if she wanted any. 

“Yeah, I know. Buck told me. You didn’t tell me he would be over.” She inspected the cake sitting on the kitchen table. It did look delicious, but she wasn’t quite sure if she could handle any more decadence after the sheer amount of junk food they had gotten through during the sleepover.

Bobby looked up from his dishes, disconcerted. “Well, we probably would have just done it at his loft if it was going to clash with yours or Harry’s plans for the day…”

May stared at him for a second, wondering if either her or her brother had made Bobby think that they didn’t enjoy Buck’s company or that they had an issue with his involvement in their family unit. Or had they made Buck think that way? Was that why he’d said that he didn’t want to ‘interrupt their family Saturday’?

“Buck didn’t want to stay for longer?” May asked casually, pulling out a napkin and inspecting which piece she wanted. She was going to wait until later to eat it, but she had enough experience with Harry that she knew better than to think it would still be there when she did want it. 

“It’s a Saturday; I’m sure he’s got plans,” Bobby said with a shrug.

That answer didn’t really illuminate anything but May left it for the moment, filing the incident away to mull over later. 

She didn’t come to any specific conclusions, instead vowing to start paying more attention to what was going on with Buck and Bobby. She soon realised that they were actually still spending a similar amount of time together. Their breakfasts were still happening, Bobby was still teaching Buck to cook, and apparently Buck was still coming to the Grant-Nash home for the occasional dinner.

The only thing was, it was always on the evenings or the days that May and Harry were scheduled to spend with their dad. 

It was that last discovery which finally prompted May to say something to her mom. 

“Does Buck think that Harry and I don’t like having him around? Or is Bobby worried about including him in our family? Cause, like, just because they aren’t blood-related doesn’t mean we aren’t going to accept him as our stepbrother.” 

She was trying not to sound too indignant, because this was a serious conversation and May was almost 18 so she could totally be mature in her approach to it. But, honestly, it was hard not to feel insulted that Bobby might think that she couldn’t or wouldn’t understand and accept his chosen kid into their family.

Athena raised an eyebrow, putting her spoon down without taking a bite of her porridge. 

“What makes you say that?” she asked, eyes slightly narrowed like when she was trying to put the clues together to work out who had left the empty packet of cookies inside the pantry instead of throwing it out. 

(It was always Harry, except he stopped doing it after their dad moved out, apparently enjoying the mischief of making Michael look like the culprit enough that it overcame his laziness about throwing it away.)

“Buck only ever seems to come over when we aren’t here. Or Bobby will go meet him some place – last week, he said he was meeting Buck for lunch on a day Harry and I were both home and I said we had so many leftovers that they could both eat here instead. Bobby said that ‘it’s a bit of a far drive for Buck’ to come.” May crossed her arms, huffing to convey her vexed disbelief at the excuse. “It’s twenty minutes! That’s, like, nothing in LA. I drive further than that to get frappes with Cindy!” 

Athena coughed lightly, looking amused. 

“I just – everything seemed fine when Buck was coming over while he was recovering from the accident,” May explained, sobering to show her mom she was being serious. “I thought we were all getting along and having fun and then all of a sudden it was like one or both of them thought that Bobby’s kid shouldn’t be included in our family anymore. Did we do something to make them think that?”

“That’s a very astute observation, May,” Athena said, pressing her lips together to stop them from twitching, obviously trying to suppress laughter. 

May waited for more, not letting herself give into the temptation to get riled up because she knew it wasn’t in her mom’s nature to be dismissive or condescending about something related to family so there had to be a different reason behind her amusement.

“It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with any of us,” Athena said. She still looked like she wanted to laugh but there was no hint of that in her voice. “It’s because Bobby and Buck –” 

She paused, apparently reconsidering her approach. May watched her search for the right words, utterly confused about why it was so complicated. 

“It was different, while Buck was recovering,” Athena said thoughtfully. She placed her elbows on the table, leaning in like she was about to confide a secret to May. “There was a ready-made excuse for Bobby to lean into: one of his firefighters that he is quite close with was heavily injured, in an incident that he viewed as being his fault –” she held up her hand to stop May from protesting, adding “believe me, I know, I tried to get that across to him many a time” as an exasperated aside.

“After all that blew over – well, continuing along the same way would mean that Bobby would have to confront the fact that he sees Buck as more of a son than a mentee and I don’t think he’s ready to do that.” 

May nodded, thinking through the implications of what her mom was telling her. She knew about Bobby’s history with his first family, so she could understand why he would find it difficult to open his heart to more children. 

Except the thing was – he already had opened his heart to more children. He had embraced being hers and Harry’s stepfather, and anyone with eyes and half a brain could see that he took great pride and joy in being Buck’s father figure. 

It didn’t make any sense why he wouldn’t admit to it when he was already acting like a father anyway – wouldn’t the hardest part be the act of taking on that responsibility?

When she voiced that thought to her mom – in slightly kinder terms – Athena finally let herself laugh. 

“No one said that those boys are logical, baby.”

“But Buck obviously knows that Bobby treats him like his kid – can’t we tell Bobby that it’s probably hurting his feelings that he’s keeping us all separated?” May asked thoughtfully. She was still searching for a way to make things end up with their whole family able to do things together again. 

Athena hummed, all traces of her amusement disappearing for the first time since May had broached the topic. “I don’t know about ‘obviously.’ I think there probably is a part of Buck that does know why Bobby treats him differently to the rest of the crew. But knowing that boy – it’s probably not a part that Buck often lets himself believe.” 

May stared, confounded at the distinction that Athena had drawn. 

“Maddie and Buck have never talked about their family much,” Athena expounded carefully, giving May that warning look which she knew meant that this wasn’t something she should speak about freely. “But I think the fact that their parents never showed up when Maddie was almost murdered or when Buck was injured so badly speaks volumes about the kind of relationship they must have with them – and the kind of trauma they must be carrying about it.”

“I, uh, I kinda thought their parents weren’t around anymore,” May said, stunned at this new information. 

“So did I, originally,” Athena said, face tight with disapproval. “And then I overheard Buck call his parents when we took a rest break on our drive back to LA after everything with Maddie’s ex. I believe they said that ‘it was a little too far to come given the situation was all over anyway.’ 

“Wow,” May said flatly, eyes wide from shock and sympathy. She knew very well that if she had ever been in that position, or even a position that wasn’t quite as dangerous and dramatic, then her three parents wouldn’t fathom doing anything else other than dropping everything and rushing to be there for her. 

It made her heart hurt a little that Buck, and Maddie for that matter, didn’t have that kind of security.

Well. 

Except Buck did, because Bobby absolutely would do that for him and she was almost certain that her mom would too. 

But she supposed she could understand why an emotionally distanced relationship with such wholly unsupportive parents might be stopping Buck from fully trusting and leaning into that. Coupled with Bobby’s traumatic loss of his own children, the whole situation really was a lot more complicated than she’d originally thought. 

“There’s nothing we can do to help, is there?” May grouched, slouching in her chair in defeat. It would have been easier if she had been right and it had been something she or Harry had done, because at least then she could have argued against it with logic but this was something far more complex and she would probably do more harm than good if she tried to get embroiled in it now.

“I think your acceptance of Buck’s place in our family is exactly what you can be doing to help, baby,” Athena said fondly, reaching over to smooth back May’s hair. She dropped her hand to squeeze May’s, adding, “Keep showing them that, and I’m sure those boys will work it out themselves. Eventually.” 

So May let things continue as they were for the most part. She kept suggesting that Bobby meet Buck at the house if she found out they were doing something together, and she would also nudge Bobby to extend an invitation to Buck if they were having a family movie night or an outing somewhere. 

Sometimes it worked – and watching Buck try and completely fail at ice skating was by far the highlight of that terrible Christmas season where her dad discovered his cancer – but more often than not Bobby would come up with some kind of excuse about why Buck couldn’t join them. 

May was pretty sure they were all bullshit and that Buck wouldn’t have ‘more interesting plans than a Disney movie night’ on a Monday evening (a stance she was totally vindicated on when she checked instagram the next morning and saw his comment under Chim’s post saying that he’d spent the night reorganising his pantry which was definitely more boring than arguing about the superior version of The Lion King with her and Harry).

But she had said she would let them work it out on their own so that’s what she was going to do.

She’d thought maybe they were there when Bobby got shot and Buck started dropping by multiple times a week, claiming that he wanted to keep Bobby updated about what was going on at the station. 

He barely bothered to sell the excuse; even Harry realised it was because Buck wanted to see how Bobby was with his own eyes. 

But just like what happened with Buck’s injury, the visits tapered off as Bobby got better and they returned to the status quo once more. 

And then Maddie left Los Angeles, and May had been sure that Buck would seek out the support of his other family which was right here . 

But all that really changed was that Bobby started complaining a lot more about how terrible Buck’s girlfriend was and how ‘the kid was selling himself short by settling for a relationship with a woman who didn’t understand him.’

May figured Bobby was probably being overprotective, and she had also wondered whether the ship had well and truly sailed on ever getting Buck properly integrated into their family if he was already building his own family unit. 

Then Eddie joined her at dispatch and she asked him about Taylor Kelly a few weeks into their new routine of a quick morning conversation. He gave her a very detailed rant about how Buck absolutely deserved better than the supposedly-awful Taylor Kelly.

Which became multiple detailed rants, once Eddie decided that May made a good confidante.

“Just because he has a heart big enough for two people doesn’t mean he should settle for someone who’s completely heartless,” he complained one day, vaguely gesturing towards a picture of a cartoon heart sitting on his desk that she assumed Christopher had drawn for him. 

Privately, May thought there had to be something else sitting behind Eddie’s vehement dislike of Taylor but she knew that Eddie was going through a lot so she kept her mouth shut about it. 

Then there was the dispatch fire, which led to another near-death experience for Bobby, and clearly her mom had reached the end of her tether with the pair of them at that point because she strode out as soon as Bobby had been taken for his MRI to drag Buck in from the main waiting area to sit and wait with them in Bobby’s room instead. 

Buck looked just as stressed and anxious as May felt. As soon as he sat down on the sofa, she moved to sit on its arm, pressing against him to feel his warmth. The smell of smoke was still clinging to his turnout pants, which should have reminded her of the terror of being trapped in that small room and buried under rubble. But it was strangely comforting, reminding her instead of Bobby’s protectiveness and Bobby’s love for her.

Bobby wasn’t surprised when he returned to see Buck waiting with them. He tried to give Buck the same mollifying platitude he’d given May about how ‘it wasn’t all that serious and I’ll be fine’. Buck took it with about as much grace as May had.

He didn’t even make a comment teasing Bobby that he would never accept such an answer if it was Buck who had been in that same situation… so May made it for him. 

She considered it a pretty decent win when it made a small smile crack through Buck’s stressed countenance. Bobby’s shocked and mildly offended face was both a bonus and also worked to soothe her worries a little because if he could react like that then he couldn’t  be that badly hurt. 

That time, it felt like they did manage to inch a little closer to that family unit May had been trying to help forge for all these years. Buck helped them get Bobby home from the hospital when he was discharged the next day – this time with plenty of mock-outrage about “the hypocrisy, Bobby,” whenever their stubborn bonus dad complained that he shouldn’t have been kept overnight – and, when he broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks later, he started coming over for dinner more often again and Bobby didn’t seem to be trying to organise things around her schedule anymore.

It still wasn’t quite what May had envisioned but at least it was movement in the right direction. 

And then there was a lightning storm. 

A lightning storm that killed Buck. 

Literally, although thankfully not permanently. 

May had never seen Bobby so wrecked. She was sure he must have been, when her mom had been injured or when Harry had been kidnapped. But on those occasions she had only seen him once they already knew things were turning out alright and he was able to convey calm assuredness for them, always offering himself as a rock that they could all lean on. 

She thought that the closest she had come to seeing him broken into so many pieces was probably after the two of them had been pulled out of the rubble at metro dispatch and he hadn’t been sure yet whether she was free of any grievous injury. 

Whether he had succeeded in protecting her. 

In her opinion, that comparison spoke volumes.

As stressful and terrifying as the entire ordeal had been, at least it had finally provided the impetus for Bobby to admit that he did in fact bring his own child into their family when he married her mom.

She wasn’t sure if he also admitted it to Buck. She was sure that there had been several serious strides forward in how freely they acted on their relationship; Bobby even brought her along to the loft a few times after Buck was discharged. On one particularly memorable afternoon, Buck and May ganged up against Bobby in true sibling-style to take him down during a competitive game of Monopoly. 

And there was one more thing she was sure of following that incident: she was done waiting for them to get their act together. 

The whole ordeal had been a valuable reminder that you never quite know how long you get with family and May was done with the pretence that Buck didn’t belong in the Grant-Nash household. 

She had taken charge while Bobby was sitting vigil over Buck’s hospital bed and she was more than willing to do that again. 

So, when Buck returned to work and it started to look like they were once again going to fall back into the status quo, slight improvements aside, that was exactly what she did. 

Which was what led to…

“Margaritas.” 

“Uh – hi, May,” Buck said, sounding baffled at the curt way she greeted him when he picked up her phone call.

“I’ve heard you make an excellent margarita,” May expounded matter-of-factly, as though that should provide Buck with enough context.

“I have been told that before,” Buck agreed, still baffled. His voice faded, like he was talking away from the phone’s speaker. “Hang on, Chris, let me finish with May before we go into the next store. Let’s sit down here a second, alright?” 

“Where are you guys?” May asked curiously, momentarily distracted from her margarita mission. 

“Uh, at the mall. Chris needs a gift for a friend’s birthday he’s got this Saturday.” 

“Does that mean you’re busy this Saturday?” May checked, leaning back in her desk chair, eyes slightly narrowed as she considered what that meant for her plans. 

“I told Eddie that I would do pick-up, but I’ll be free before about nine –” she could hear Christopher’s voice in the background, presumably protesting the time since Buck sounded amused when he came back to her with the correction that he meant ten. 

“That’s perfect,” May said, pleased. 

“Okay – and what does this have to do with my cocktail skills?” Buck questioned, confused again. 

“It’s my 21st, we’re having a gathering –”

“Wait, I thought that was next week,” Buck interrupted, alarmed. 

“That’s the big party with everyone, this is a smaller thing we’re kinda just throwing together,” May said impatiently. “And I’ve decided that I want a margarita to be one of my first drinks as a fully legal 21-year-old.” 

“You worked at dispatch for two years and no one ever bought you a drink?” Buck asked dubiously, his grin audible. 

“Not according to my parents they didn’t,” May said primly, making Buck laugh. 

“Alright, sure,” he said easily. “I’ll bring ingredients to make margaritas then. Any preference on what kind?”

“Can you make them pink?” 

“Yep, easily done.”

“Thanks, Buck. I will see you Saturday – come at 3.” May hung up the phone, grinning and feeling very satisfied with herself. 

Her plan hit a slight snag when Buck asked what time Eddie thought he could make it on Saturday, apparently assuming that by ‘smaller gathering’ she meant the extended 118 family, and Eddie messaged her in a slight panic asking if he had misremembered the date of her party. Thankfully, he thought it was sweet and hilarious that she was orchestrating his inclusion into her family celebration and promised to play along and get Hen and Chim onside as well, with the proviso that she send him a photo of Buck when he realised that it was purposefully only him from their group. 

(Hen called Athena separately when she found out, begging her to get a photo of Bobby when he realised what his stepdaughter had organised. 

“That girl is just as headstrong as you are,” Hen said, snickering. 

Athena hadn’t quite been able to decide whether she should feel more proud or simply amused hearing about May’s manipulation, but that comment definitely tipped the scales towards pride.)

There were… not nearly as many cars parked around Bobby and Athena’s house as Buck had expected, especially considering he was running late after going to three different stores to try and find the perfect flavoured pink himalayan salt to use for May’s requested pink margaritas. 

He wasn’t surprised that he didn’t see Eddie’s truck, since he hadn’t really given Buck an answer when he’d asked what time he was getting here and Buck assumed that Eddie stayed behind to chat a bit with some of the other parents dropping off children for Christopher’s friend’s party. 

It wasn’t too unusual for Chimney and Maddie to be running late either, since they had started to struggle with timely exits now that Jee-Yun was old enough to express vociferous opinions about what she would and would not wear (unfortunately, she seemed to have a particular vendetta against socks. However, she also hated the feeling of shoes against her bare feet. No one had succeeded in convincing her of the inherent contradiction between those two stances.)

Hen and Karen, on the other hand, generally always ran on time, so their dark SUV should have been parked near the plain white sedan which he presumed belonged to Michael and David since he knew they were meant to fly in today and the car was plastered with a decal bearing the name of a rental company that operated out of the airport. 

Perhaps May had asked him to come over a little earlier so that he could set up his margarita-mixing station without distractions? Or maybe she didn’t want him to be locked into making cocktails all night and set up the timing so she could try it before the party started properly? 

It was very kind of her if that was the case, but Buck had already assumed that he was going to be making plenty of margaritas tonight for all the invitees and was prepared accordingly. Although having some dedicated time to get things set up properly would still make his life easier later on, so he wasn’t about to complain even if he felt bad about interrupting what he knew was a long awaited reunion for the Grant-Nashes. 

“How drunk are you planning to get my daughter, Buckaroo?” Athena stood in the doorway, incredulous, taking in the bag that Buck had placed on the ground so that he could knock. 

“I am all about responsible drinking, Athena. I did a course and everything,” Buck claimed, shooting her a charming smile. He winced internally at the loud clanking noise the bottles of tequila and triple sec made as he lifted his bag again. 

Athena hummed dubiously and, honestly, considering she had met him when he was still near the height of his not-very-responsible days, her disbelief was probably pretty fair. 

“And I figured someone else would want to try a margarita after May raved about how amazing they are,” Buck added, following Athena down the stairs once she closed the door, shaking his head at her silent offer to take one of his bags. 

“Oh, definitely not me,” Athena declared firmly, drawing the attention of the small group gathered around the dining table. “I do not do tequila. Ever.” `

“That feels like there’s a story behind it,” Buck said, intrigued, setting his bags down on the table. 

Bobby looked surprised; it had to be a good story if he didn’t even know the origins of Athena’s aversion to tequila.

(He was busy greeting Harry and Michael and David, so he didn’t notice Athena smirking as she took a quick snap of Bobby watching Buck and Harry exchange high-fives, his mouth slightly open and his brows furrowed in a way that made it look like he was trying to work through an extremely complicated calculation.

Bobby did notice, and his expression shifted into confusion, and then resigned exasperation as he quickly realised the most likely reason that his wife was taking the photo.) 

“I have to admit, I’m also not a huge fan of anything with tequila,” Michael said, clapping Buck on the back after giving him a hug. “And yes, there is a story behind it but I will wait until Harry turns 21 for that one.” 

Harry groaned in protest, clearly gearing up to cajole Michael into giving up the story now. May interrupted before he could get any steam. 

“That just means there’s more for me.” 

“I do know that Maddie and Chim enjoy a good margarita,” Buck said, trying to fish for more information about when other people were due to get there. 

“Well then you’ll have to leave the leftovers so they can have one next week,” Athena said airily, handing him a single margarita glass. 

“Uh –”

“Unless you want one as well?” Athena asked with a small mischievous smile, gesturing towards the glass cabinet that held the rest of the glasses. 

(Buck was so busy trying to reboot his short-circuiting brain that he didn’t notice May sending her mom an exasperated glare for giving the surprise away too early. She hadn’t even had time to get her phone out!

She was going to have to think of something good to make it up to Eddie for not getting that photo…)

“Uh, no – no, I need to drive later.” Buck accepted the glass Athena was holding out, wondering where his wires had gotten crossed. Did May only want him to make the cocktail and then go? That was fine, although now he felt guilty for the amount of supplies he had brought since he knew that Athena generally tried to avoid keeping spirits in the house for Bobby’s sake. Maybe he could hint for May to take them home? It could form part of his birthday gift for her…

“Dad and David aren’t staying here so you could sleep in the spare room,” Harry announced. He jumped onto the chair and sat on his knees, watching curiously as Buck started to take out the various bits and pieces he needed to make a perfect margarita worthy of May’s “first” drink.

“We decided we wanted a break from this one.” Michael laughed as he ruffled Harry’s hair, answering Buck’s unasked question. 

“More like Mama wants him all to herself after such a long time,” Athena cooed, wrapping him up in a hug from behind. Harry leaned into the hug momentarily but also grumbled something inaudible which made Athena laugh and smack a kiss on the top of his head before withdrawing. 

“Only because she’s forgotten how annoying he is,” May snarked, grinning when Harry threw a strawberry at her. She leaned over the corner of the table to nudge Buck on the arm. “Little brothers, am I right?”

“Well, as a little brother I feel like I can’t really talk to that point,” Buck said, laughing. “You’d probably have to ask Maddie.” Although their age difference and the way their parents had all but absolved themselves from the emotional responsibilities of parenting meant that their sibling relationship was very different so Maddie’s answer probably wouldn’t quite align with May’s. 

The unimpressed look May gave him made him feel like their height difference had completely disappeared. The arched eyebrow was such an absolute carbon copy of the way Athena expressed her disapproval that Buck had to resist the instinctive urge to beg for mercy. He couldn’t even stop his brain from churning through excuses even though he wasn’t sure what it was she had an objection to. 

“What, just because you’re a little brother means that you can’t talk about being a big brother?” May asked, head tilted as though she was prepared to rebut any challenge Buck might offer to dispute her statement. 

“Yeah, you can definitely tell May that I’m an awesome little brother to have,” Harry added, making a face at her. 

May broke her stern facade to make a face back at him, giving Buck a moment of reprieve, which was good because his brain needed to reboot again. 

Bobby glanced over at Buck as he set down a platter of mini-tartlets next to the other canapes on the table. He seemed to recognise that Buck needed a few extra seconds and offered his support to gently steer the conversation to something easier. 

“This looks like an incredibly complicated drink.” Bobby put his hand on his hips, surveying all of the supplies now laid out in front of Buck. 

“It looks more complicated than some of my surgeries,” David joked. He picked up two of the strainers from the cocktail shaker set that Buck had set out, inspecting it like it was one of his surgical instruments.

May made the Athena-inspired vexed face again. Thankfully, this time it was directed at Bobby and not him. That made it easier to deal with. 

“What, am I not allowed to ask my big brother to make me a drink on my birthday?”

(Buck might think that Bobby was dealing with it a lot better than him, but in reality his own brain also needed to reboot from the panic that May’s pointed challenge had created.)

“It does seem like an awful lot of work for one cocktail,” Athena agreed. Her tone was sincere even though she was smirking into her wine glass for some reason. “Are you sure you don’t want to make yourself one, Buckaroo? You’re more than welcome to that spare room.” 

“Bobby said he’d make blueberry pancakes for breakfast,” Harry added enthusiastically. “And I’m working on getting him to make his mac and cheese for dinner!” 

“That does sound amazing, but I need to pick Christopher up from his party tonight so I definitely can’t,” Buck said apologetically. He was genuinely regretful, because the idea of waking up to Bobby’s pancakes and then maybe helping him bake mac and cheese while Athena and Harry hovered near them as they caught up and unpacked Harry’s things was a pretty amazing fantasy that he would have enjoyed indulging in. 

“Christopher?” Bobby said sharply, twisting to face him, startled and concerned. “Is everything alright with Eddie?” 

“Of course,” Buck replied, mystified as to what had made Bobby jump to that conclusion. “Eddie dropped him off; I offered to do the pick-up."

"Eddie didn't feel comfortable driving at night...?" Bobby probed, mouth pressed together in worry. 

There had been a brief period, right after his breakdown, where Eddie had avoided driving at night since he was anxious about potentially getting triggered by something so Buck supposed he could understand where Bobby's worry was coming from.

"No, nothing like that. It just didn't seem like there was much point in him going when I was planning to crash at Eddie's anyway."

Bobby didn't look any less concerned, so Buck expanded his explanation.

"I promised Chris that we could plan out our next zoo visit tomorrow. They’re offering koala photos at the moment plus there’s some new baby gibbons so we need to make some sacrifices and adjust our usual schedule.” 

Bobby opened his mouth, probably to ask for more detail because he now looked puzzled. 

However, Harry jumped in first, his eyes wide with wonder. “As in you can take a photo with a koala?”  

“You can take one holding a koala if you want.” Buck pulled out his phone, handing it over to Harry once he found the screenshot that he’d sent to Eddie which explained the experience and showed a sample photo. He angled it so that Bobby could also see the phone, wondering if maybe Bobby hadn’t been aware that the LA zoo had Australian native animals and that was why he was confused? 

“That’s so cool,” Harry said fervently. He whipped around to face his parents. “Can I do it?” 

“Sounds like it could be fun,” Michael said, gesturing for Harry to hand over the phone so he could take a better look. “Would you guys be up for some company, Buck?” 

“Uh, yeah, of course.” 

“It can be a boys trip!” Harry exclaimed, grinning excitedly. “You guys and me and Dad and David and Bobby.”

“Oh I see how it is,” May grouched, looking far too pleased for there to be any heat behind it.

“We’ll go and get pampered instead; that is far more aligned to my idea of a good time,” Athena said to her.

“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” Michael said, handing Buck his phone. 

Buck nodded, bamboozled at how quickly that had happened. He was looking forward to getting home – to Eddie’s – so he could share this entire bizarre experience and blurt out his thoughts. Hopefully Eddie would do what he did best: help put it into perspective and make it all a little bit less overwhelming. 

(“You let them off too easily,” May complained to her mom later on when she followed her into the kitchen where Athena was topping up her wine glass. The rest of the party was now outside, where Michael and Bobby had fired up the barbecue and Harry had challenged David and Buck to a game of Jenga. “We were so close to forcing them to admit that Buck is a Grant-Nash.”

“I know you want to do a speedrun, baby, but you can’t push them too fast,” Athena counselled. “Believe me, this is an excellent start. We’ll get them there.” 

She paused, surveying May for a moment. Feeling slightly self-conscious, May took another sip of her half-finished margarita – Buck really did know how to mix an excellent version of the cocktail and she had no regrets about having it as her first ‘official’ drink even leaving aside the additional purpose that it had served.

“I’m proud of you, May,” she said finally, putting her arm around her and squeezing. “You’ve grown into the exact kind of person I hoped.”)

Chapter Text

“I feel bad leaving you alone with all of this.” 

Bobby stood at the entrance of the kitchen, clutching his coffee with both hands as he took in the remnants of May’s big party last night strewn across their dining space and outdoor area. Even though Michael and David had kindly stayed behind later than everyone to help them do an initial tidy up, there was still plenty left to clean. It didn’t sit right with him to waltz off to the zoo and leave it for his wife to manage. 

“Who said May and I were going to clean it up all alone?” Athena asked, looking up from her phone with a raised eyebrow. She had cleared off the corner of the table to set it down alongside her own mug. “We’ve also got our own plans, remember? There’ll be plenty of time for you boys to help out with the clean-up. In fact, why don’t you see if Buck and Eddie want to come over after the zoo and they can help us with the clean-up and the leftovers. God knows we aren’t going to finish everything that’s left.” 

“You’ve joined in now too?” Bobby said ruefully, sending her a betrayed look that she didn’t believe in the slightest going by the innocent smile she gave him in return. He sat down at the table, nudging away the pile of crumpled napkins so that he had space to lean his elbow on it. 

Athena switched her phone screen off to give Bobby her full attention, picking up her mug with both hands, lightly questioning, “Joined in what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Bobby scoffed. “This sudden desire –”

Athena interrupted him with a withering stare. “If you think the desire is sudden, then you need to work on those observation skills of yours, Captain.”  

Bobby opened his mouth, ready to retaliate, except the memory of sitting outside the hospital that day with May while Buck lay inside fighting for his life stopped him in his tracks.

Mom brought two kids into the marriage.

You brought one. 

As though she could read his mind, Athena pointedly added, “Besides, one might argue that May is in fact following your lead.”

Bobby took a sip of his coffee, glancing away to stare at the table outside that Buck had transformed into his impromptu bar last night.

The thing was, Bobby had never intended to set that lead, to ‘bring a kid into the marriage’ as May had put it. At the end of the day, regardless of any feelings he might have about it, Buck was not his kid and the only rights Bobby really had to him were as his Captain and his friend.

Yes, it was true that his relationship with Buck was different from his relationship with the rest of the crew, and he could now admit that this had been the case right from the beginning. 

The 118 had been made up of mostly well-established firefighters who were used to fending for themselves by the time Bobby joined them. In contrast, everything about Buck when he first came along screamed that he needed a mentor, that he needed someone to believe in him and guide him. 

Bobby had seen it and it had tugged at his heart strings but he had never planned to be that person because he was too embroiled in his own misery and his dark plans to take on that task… 

And yet, somehow, he couldn’t help but be drawn in. 

He told himself it was because he couldn’t turn away from his responsibilities as a Captain: Buck was one of his subordinates who, despite his initial inability to keep it in his pants, had a good heart and the potential to be a solid career firefighter. All he needed was a little bit of help to get there. 

That argument didn’t hold up quite as strongly when he dropped Buck off at his sharehouse after the emergency tracheotomy that Abby had performed and immediately resolved to change the chore roster to ensure Buck was assigned to help him in the kitchen as much as possible after seeing the state of the kitchen and the sheer amount of takeout detritus strewn over every available surface.

But, really, he’d clocked Buck’s need for a mentor from the beginning, and making sure the kid actually knew how to sustain himself was simply an extension of that. 

It didn’t have to mean anything else. 

And telling Eddie that it was a captain’s job to make sure his team had what they needed to succeed was a perfectly valid response to the probing about whether it was normal for a captain to handpick their graduating probie’s partner from the subsequent class even if it involved poaching them from a different station. 

(To this day, he wasn’t sure if Eddie believed him but ultimately that was irrelevant because he did agree to join the 118 and they were all better off, including Eddie, for having him become a part of their little found fire family.)

Eddie’s introductory shift was perhaps one of the first real indications that he didn’t see Buck in exactly the same way as all his other subordinates. Because Bobby had been the one to convince Eddie to turn down his first offer and Buck was clearly the one instigating their clashes which meant that if push came to shove then the correct course of action would be to reprimand Buck and eventually have to consider moving him to a different shift if things didn’t improve… 

But the very thought of it just felt fundamentally wrong because… 

Because, well, a mentor didn’t give up on his mentee. 

(He had grown up in a firefighting family that had quite a few captains and leaders in its midst. He had also been close with every one of his own captains, all of whom had seen him as a future leader. 

Bobby knew very well that there were occasions where professional mentors did have to give up on their mentees.

He knew, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, that it was fathers that didn’t give up on their sons.

There was no way he would have even come close to admitting it then.)

Thankfully, his instincts held true in the end and by halfway into Eddie’s second shift, Buck and Eddie were well on their way to becoming the exact kind of partnership that Bobby had been trying to orchestrate. 

In fact, quickly enough, they formed an even tighter bond than he had hoped for. 

He also told himself that his pride over that was from a job well done at forging a perfect crew at the firehouse which had saved him and become another home. 

It was easy to believe, because part of it was indeed that. 

The other part was a type of pride he hadn’t felt in years (since Robbie Junior crowed about being the first to befriend and get to help the new student, to be exact) and so it was easy enough to gloss over. 

The fire truck bombing was probably when things really shifted. 

Bobby would have been worried about Buck no matter what heralded the injury, but the fact that it was all precipitated by a revenge plot aimed at him amplified that worry and mixed it with a sickening dose of guilt. The only way he could manage those emotions was by indulging his protective instincts and providing as much physical and emotional support as he possibly could. 

At first he tried to tell himself that it was what any Captain or mentor would do but even he couldn’t fool himself into thinking that he wasn’t going above and beyond for long. 

If it had been any of his other subordinates, he would have offered support and a listening ear and ensured their house was consistently stocked with plenty of good food. However, he wouldn’t have insisted on attending as many of their medical appointments as possible. And he certainly wouldn’t have postponed his honeymoon so that he could instead use his vacation days to maximise that number. 

(In hindsight, he now realised that his wife would have had Words for him if he had done that for anyone other than the person she had already accepted was going to be her honorary stepson.)

And while he would have invited other members of his crew over to his house, their visits probably wouldn’t have been as frequent as Buck’s were during his recovery period. They had their own families to help them along, but Buck was alone in that new loft of his and Bobby couldn’t bear the idea of Buck isolated in that still-unfamiliar space, stewing in his insecurities and pain alone. 

May and Harry didn’t seem to mind the additional company, and Bobby supposed that was probably the key point where he had inadvertently ‘brought the kid into the marriage’ although at the time all he had felt was more guilt for introducing additional upheaval and change to May and Harry’s home so soon after his and Athena’s whirlwind engagement and wedding. 

But it had kept Buck connected and motivated to keep working through his difficult recovery and so Bobby thought it was worth it. 

Once Buck was (relatively) healthy and back at the 118, it felt like the visits had served their purpose. Continuing them in the same way didn’t feel like something he had a right to: he may have acted a little like Buck’s father during his recovery but that didn’t mean he was actually Buck’s father or that he had any right to act as such.

Besides, Bobby was sure that Buck had other things he preferred to be doing than hanging out with his captain and his captain’s stepchildren all the time.

So they slowly returned to the status quo they’d had before the bombing, stilted at first as they worked through the aftermath of the lawsuit debacle. Since Bobby no longer lived alone, they generally met outside of the house or occasionally at Buck’s loft until Athena caught wind of their plans and insisted that Buck was welcome in their shared home just as much as he’d been welcome in Bobby’s small apartment. 

As welcome as May and Harry would have been in Bobby’s home if they had waited longer for the wedding and moving in together, was the precise way that Athena phrased it. Bobby had protested the comparison at the time but with the benefit of hindsight that was yet another clue that others were perceiving his relationship with Buck in a way that he would never dare to claim himself. 

Over the next few years, he got more settled into the role of being a stepfather. He still rarely used the word in reference to himself but eventually the hurt that surged even at the thought of being a father eased and his complicated emotions about it became easier to manage. 

Then Bobby got shot and, as near-death experiences tended to do, it triggered plenty of self-reflection while he worked through his recovery.

It made him appreciate his new family, the tight-knit circle that his crew had forged, and forced him to recognise the unique position that Buck held within it all. Because of course the entire crew was impacted by his being shot – but there was no denying that Buck’s reaction was more intense. 

He originally assumed that it was because Buck was still reeling from the experience of watching Eddie get shot and trying to get him transported under harrowing circumstances.

That likely still explained part of it, but the assumption that it was entirely because of it was heavily tested by the similarities he started to notice in the way Buck and his stepchildren would watch him with apprehension and worry and how they sculpted their plans to ensure they would be around him as much as possible. 

There was one particular evening during that period that was etched into his memory: it was a warm and muggy night and May and Buck ganged up on him, sending Harry to (carefully) sit on his lap so that he couldn’t get up off the sofa to help them with the dish they were trying to cook. They giggled away in the kitchen, their conversation indistinct from the vantage point Harry and Bobby had. The pair spent well over an hour in the kitchen before eventually resigning themselves to the fact that they were unable to get the dish up to the standard they were hoping for so they ordered some of his favourite dishes from the local Japanese restaurant even though none of them were the biggest fans of seafood. 

Bobby vividly remembered sitting at the table, eating his teriyaki salmon donburi while Buck, May, and Harry picked at their dishes, laughing about something he could barely pay attention to, when ‘god, I love my children’ flitted into his head between one moment and the next. 

The feeling settled deep within him, as natural and sure as the love he’d had for his first two children, and was accompanied by a peaceful acknowledgement that they were joining Brooke and Robbie Junior in his heart rather than replacing them. 

Once he’d admitted it in his head, it became easier to keep blurring that invisible line between boss and mentor, mentor and father. 

It was easier to give Buck blunt advice about his relationship with Taylor, and easier to confess to Athena how goddamn thrilled he was when Buck finally realised that Taylor wasn’t the right match for him and made the decision on his own to leave her.

He didn’t second guess himself when he was sharing recipes, his family secrets withheld out of a desire to tease Buck rather than the uncertainty of wondering if he had the right to be sharing them. 

Despite all that, it still wasn’t something he dared to speak into being. To classify their relationship would expose Bobby in a way that he didn’t think he was ready for. 

After all, he knew how he felt and he knew that Buck realised that their bond was a different kind to the one they each had with the rest of their fire family. 

But Buck already had a father; he had parents who were working with him and his sister to develop a better relationship than they’d had in the past. 

(Bobby had his own feelings about that, had words he would love to say to these parents who chose to wallow in their grief and neglect their two brilliant, caring children, but those thoughts were another thing he chose to keep to himself.)

So he had been content to remain in this in-between space, where he held his paternal love in his heart, ready to be drawn upon when needed, but slightly obscured behind that blurred yet still existent line. 

And then Buck got struck by lightning.

Buck was lying in a hospital room, unconscious, near death, his mother in a distraught state and his father painfully stoic, and with just a few words May erased that line and gave voice to a truth that Bobby had never intended to shed light on.

It seemed pointless to try and put that line back when there was a painful gnawing hole in his heart, exactly like the kind that had plagued him while he had desperately searched for his babies during that apartment fire, and so he had finally conceded the point, an overwhelming voice in his head screaming that he should have said it when Buck was awake. 

There was perhaps some sort of irony in the fact that the first time Bobby felt ready to confess to why he was so invested in being so heavily involved in Buck’s recovery was also the first time that his birth parents were actually present for one of his injuries. 

Ultimately, Bobby made the decision to stay quiet, not wanting to intrude on the familial bonds that were finding their equilibrium. Their own bond was still secure and strong and he took solace in the fact that he was still the one that Buck reached out to every day to reestablish his sense of stability.

(He might have taken a touch too much pleasure in brushing off Phillip’s offer to update him about Buck’s status when he’d dropped by the loft with some food, telling him that it wasn’t necessary since he spoke with Buck every morning.

Bobby told himself that he didn’t have to feel guilty over his vindictive satisfaction since it was probably better than unleashing the diatribe that had been festering in the back of his head for years about the inadequacy of the Buckleys' parenting.)

With Buck fully recovered, things once again returned to the status quo and there was a certain peace to be found in that. He could continue to unobtrusively maintain the unwavering fatherly support and advice he’d been offering all these years without having to worry that he was claiming something that wasn’t his to claim. 

What he hadn’t accounted for was his stepdaughter’s steely will and single-minded determination. 

“Am I not allowed to ask my big brother to make me a drink on my birthday,” May had said – or challenged was probably a more apt word, and Bobby had seized with the fear that including Buck in this intimate family affair was overstepping, that the sentiment behind it belonged in his head and it was too much to share them aloud.

Buck appeared to be equally uncertain and overwhelmed by it all; ironically enough they probably looked very similar in their reaction. Thankfully, Athena helped move the conversation along and things blew over but Bobby hadn’t been able to stop dwelling on it in the week since it happened. 

“I think May overtook my lead and bulldozed ahead,” Bobby said, breaking the introspective silence they’d fallen into. 

Athena laughed. “Well, that’s a whole other thing.” 

Bobby inclined his head in acknowledgment, letting out a small sigh. 

“It doesn’t mean that you need to rush straight into a massive change,” Athena pointed out gently. She held his hand, stroking his knuckles as she spoke. “Think of it as more of a nudge to start getting out of your comfort zone.” 

“I don’t think May intended for it to be a nudge,” Bobby quipped dryly. 

“Well, she was partly raised by a firefighter. I hear they aren’t known for their subtlety,” Athena teased, grinning at him when he huffed in response. 

“Are you saying I should be more subtle about things?” He leaned forward, dropping his eyes to take in her cleavage to make it exceptionally clear what things he was referring to.

“Don’t you dare,” Athena ordered, her smile softer as she leaned forward to meet him in the middle and give him a kiss. 

“Bobby, Dad said – eww.” 

They looked up to see Harry in the archway, his phone in one hand, nose scrunched up in disgust. 

“What, you forgot what it was like when parents kiss?” Athena asked, eyebrow arched.

“No, but it’s just as gross when they do it,” Harry complained, grinning when Athena tutted at him in exasperation.

“What did your dad say?” Bobby cut in before they could keep going.

“That he’ll be ready for us to pick him up in 10 minutes. I texted Chris and he said they’re about to leave.” 

“Well then you boys better get a move on,” Athena directed, rising from her seat so she could walk them to the door. She waited for Bobby to drain his coffee, winking at him when he placed the mug down. “Make sure you all end up back here for dinner so we can get some help with the cleanup.” 

There was some traffic on the way to the apartment that Michael and David were staying in but once they picked up Michael – David deciding to skip the zoo in favour of taking May out for her ‘first hangover breakfast’ before she met Athena for their pampering plans – they made it in surprisingly good time. 

Since the line was long and still growing, Bobby and Michael decided that they might as well hold a place while they waited for Buck, Eddie, and Christopher to join them. 

They were probably about a half dozen places from the front of the queue when Harry looked up from his phone and leaned over the dividing line so that he could see what was going on behind them. 

“I see Buck!” He started waving frantically, Micheal apologising to the couple directly behind them when the man had to lean back to avoid being hit in the arm. 

“Maybe one of us should go grab them?” Michael suggested, glancing at Bobby to check his thoughts. 

Harry shook his head, dropping his arm down but still maintaining his focus on the crowd behind them. “I think Buck saw me; I can see him coming this way now.”

“You can’t see Eddie? They’re about the same height,” Bobby said, slightly amused because he was reminded of a call they’d had a few weeks ago where Eddie had bitterly complained about a friend of their victim who fawned over Buck and raved about his height and strong build. Up until then, Bobby had never realised that Eddie thought about the minimal differences in their size at all. 

Harry frowned, craning his neck around to get a better line of sight. He shook his head after a few seconds. “I can see Chris now, too – Eddie isn’t with them.” 

“He isn’t?” Bobby repeated, puzzled. He ran through his memories of last night, trying to remember if Eddie had mentioned anything about not being able to make it today. 

He recalled that Eddie had made a crack about Bobby not knowing what he was getting himself in for, tagging along for Buck and Christopher’s thoroughly planned outing, but there hadn’t been any indication that he was going to have to pull out.

“Maybe he dropped Buck and Chris off and went to search for parking?” Michael offered. “It was a decent walk from where we parked and it's probably filled up even more now.” 

“That would make sense.” 

Bobby was fairly certain that Buck had been the one to drive the Diaz’s to the party last night so Eddie driving today would make sense. But he also presumed that Eddie must have a disabled parking placard for Christopher which would have negated the need to drop them off and then search for a spot further afield. He supposed that there was always the chance that the permit spots had also filled up.

“You two look prepared,” Michael greeted when Buck and Christopher finally reached them. 

The two of them were both wearing hats and their skin had a shiny sheen which indicated that they were slathered in sunscreen. Buck was also wearing a backpack which looked like it was tightly packed with supplies. 

“Can’t do the zoo properly without being properly prepared, right, buddy?” Buck said, resting a hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Nothing worse than finishing a fun day out with realising you’ve been sunburnt…” 

Chris nodded solemnly in agreement, then gave a small smirk when he added, “But that would still be better than getting caught in a tsunami.” 

Michael choked slightly, gaping at them like he wasn’t quite sure how to react to that statement. 

Buck sighed, unable to suppress a smile which completely undercut the scolding glare he was trying to give to Chris. “The zoo was the first outing we had after our tsunami experience,” he explained. “So now our zoo trips always get compared to that…”

“I suppose you’ll never have a bad zoo experience if that’s your comparison point,” Bobby commented, shaking his head with a chuckle, well acquainted with strange coping mechanisms after so many years working as a firefighter. 

“Yes, but we’re working on not making light of the tsunami,” Buck said pointedly, nudging Chris in the shoulder when the boy rolled his eyes. Catching Bobby and Michael’s curious gazes, he added in an undertone, “his teachers were starting to complain that he was making tsunamis seem like they ‘weren’t a big deal’ to his classmates.” 

“Ah,” Michael said, now also amused.

“They aren’t a big deal,” Chris argued, “not when you have a Buck, anyway.” 

Buck rubbed his hand over his head sheepishly, glancing back at the stupefied expressions of the couple behind them. “Thanks, bud.”

“I suppose we can all just be thankful that the LA zoo is very inland,” Bobby said diplomatically. He guessed that must be why Buck and Eddie had decided to bring Chris here as his first outing after the tsunami, using its distance from the ocean to allay any fears the child might have after his harrowing experience at the pier. 

They shuffled forward slightly as the queue moved again. There was now only one more small family group in front of them. 

“Do you know if Eddie is far off?” Michael asked Buck.

“Huh?” Buck stared at him in surprise.

“Should we let a few people in front of us so he has a chance to catch up before we go in?” Michael expanded, gesturing at the kiosk to emphasise how close to the gates they were. 

“Why would Eddie be here?” Buck said blankly, like he still wasn’t quite grasping the point of the question. 

Michael looked over at Bobby in desperation but Bobby felt as confused as Buck looked. 

“Dad doesn’t like the zoo,” Chris said, also puzzled. “He hardly ever comes with us.” 

“He likes the zoo,” Buck corrected hastily. “He just… gets bored with it easily and Chris and I like to take our time.”

Chris nodded in agreement. “Dad thinks you don’t need a plan for the zoo,” he scoffed, staring at them balefully to express how ludicrous an idea that was. 

“Crazy talk,” Buck agreed, smiling down at Christopher fondly. “Eddie does join us occasionally but generally the zoo is a Buck and Chris day.” He rested a hand on Christopher’s head, putting on an overly exaggerated pout when Christopher shook it off with a scolding glare.

“Fair enough,” Michael said slowly. He glanced over at Bobby, curious and hoping for more information, but Bobby didn’t have anything to offer. 

He knew that Buck went to the zoo with Christopher relatively often – at least once a month, if he was correctly remembering an offhand comment that Eddie had once made – but he had always assumed that all three of them went together and Eddie simply let Buck take the lead when telling stories about their outings. 

It had made perfect sense to him; Buck loved children and occasionally babysat Christopher so he would be good company for Eddie on a longer outing like this and he was exuberant and outgoing, in contrast to Eddie’s generally more reserved nature, so he would be the ideal companion to lead a child through the various adventures the LA zoo had to offer. 

The realisation that Buck had been taking Christopher on his own for all of these years made Bobby feel he’d missed a step somewhere only he had no idea how or even what exactly that step was. 

The group in front of them had managed to sort out their tickets while they were talking. They moved through the gate, allowing their own group to step up to the kiosk. 

“Ah, alright then, we need three adults and two children,” Michael said to the cheerful young woman wearing a zoo t-shirt with two animal pins on one side of her collar and two different pride flags pinned to the other side.

“Oh, no, you don’t need to get tickets for us,” Buck jumped in swiftly, manoeuvring around Christopher so that he was standing closer to the window of the kiosk, pulling his wallet out of his pocket at the same time. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michael waved them off with one hand, the other getting his own wallet out. “Technically we’re the ones crashing your outing here. I’m happy to pay for you both.”

“No – I mean, thank you, I appreciate the thought –” Buck was speaking quickly, searching through the card slots in his wallet “ – but we have membership passes.” He finally pulled a card out, turning it around to show them that it was emblazoned with a trio of orangutans and had ‘LA Zoo Family Membership’ written across the front. 

Michael blinked at the card in surprise. 

The attendant scanned it when Buck passed it over, glancing at her computer screen and then back at him. “Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, and Christopher Diaz?” 

“Uh, just Buck – Evan – and Chris this time,” Buck corrected with a charming smile. “Unless I can transfer Eddie’s ticket to one of these guys…?”

The attendant returned his smile with a look that Bobby recognised far too well from the many occasions that a female victim or onlooker would take a shine to Buck during one of their calls and ignore everything else in favour of trying to get in a little flirting. It had been a nightmare for him during Buck’s first few months as a probie, back when he’d been a little too willing to reciprocate the flirting. 

Thankfully nowadays, Buck was more mature and aware of how unprofessional it was. And there was also Eddie as a final back-up, because he would get annoyed if his partner was being distracted away from his job and would always extricate Buck from one of those situations if Buck was struggling to do it himself. 

“I’m afraid not,” the attendant said apologetically. She took another look at her screen, biting her lip and shaking her head from side to side as she considered something. “But, you do have four free safari shuttle tickets available to redeem – and I could probably swing a fifth so that you can all go together?” 

“A safari shuttle? That sounds cool,” Harry interjected enthusiastically. 

“It is so cool, we’ve done them before,” Chris agreed. “Do you remember when we got to drive past the giraffes while they were eating above us, Buck?”

“I remember getting a heart attack that you were about to fall out of the shuttle with how far out you were leaning,” Buck said dryly. “But yes, it was very cool.” 

“So, two adults, one child, two memberships, and five complimentary safari shuttle passes?” the attendant confirmed, clicking through some things on her computer. 

“That would be amazing, thank you,” Buck said gratefully, taking his membership card back.

His family membership card.

It did make some sort of sense, Bobby supposed. 

If Buck took Chris to the zoo regularly, then Eddie adding him onto their family membership would alleviate the financial burden of the frequent visits. And he  knew better than most about the experience of having an unconventional family. 

Despite his reasoning, Bobby still felt like he’d missed another step. 

Buck and Bobby both grabbed one of the zoo maps on their way through the turnstiles once the attendant had passed over their tickets. Bobby was ready to make a crack about the firefighters always needing to know how to get to the exits when Buck swung his backpack in front of him and started to carefully slot the map into one of the smaller pockets. 

“Isn’t it usually the point of a map to use it while you’re here…?” Michael asked, bemused. 

“It’s so we can plan for next time,” Chris informed them. He took the second, more crinkled map that Buck had just pulled out of a different pocket so that he could zip the backpack up again. 

Buck nodded, accepting the second map back from Chris once the bag was secure and hanging off his shoulder again. “And if I remember correctly, we were going to start with the reptiles so that we can be near the Animals of Australia exhibit for when the show starts at 10:30…” He opened the map, holding it down low so that they could all see. It was heavily annotated, mostly with Buck’s handwriting but there were a few more childish scrawls that must have been added by Christopher. 

“Reptiles it is,” Michael said agreeably. “Can I take a look at the map?”

“Sure.” Buck passed it over, already distracted by Harry asking if they could start with the crocodiles and alligators since he wanted to compare what they were like to the ones he’d seen in Florida. 

Michael and Bobby let themselves lag behind a few hundred yards. Once they were out of earshot, Michael turned to Bobby, a quizzical expression on his face. 

“So, uh, did we miss a big change while we were in Florida that everyone forgot to share…”

“No.” Bobby shook his head, taking the map off him so he could look at the annotations more closely. 

There actually was one instance of Eddie’s handwriting on it: a note marked next to one of the eating areas in the zoo, which said ‘make sure you actually eat this time! I’m not making chicken nuggets again because you two are too starving to wait for anything else!’ 

“Only if they forgot to share it with me, anyway,” he added wryly.

“You know, that might be a distinct possibility, considering you and Buck forgot to tell each other that you’re father and son.” 

Bobby tore his gaze away from the map, staring at his friend in betrayal. 

“Maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?” Michael added, cackling wickedly when Bobby glared at him exasperatedly. 

“Unca Buck, Unca Buck, Unca Buck!”

A whirlwind of toddler energy slammed into Buck’s legs hard enough that he almost lost his balance in the doorway. 

“Jee-Yun, Jee-Yun, Jee-Yun,” he chanted back at her, leaning down to sweep her up into his arms. She giggled, giving him a strangely strong hug for such a tiny being and a smackingly loud kiss on his cheek that he reciprocated just as loudly. 

“Looks like Uncle Buck is here,” Chimney called, presumably for Maddie’s sake since his head was facing the other way when he appeared in the entrance way drying his hands on a kitchen towel. 

“Maddie still getting ready?” Buck guessed, greeting Chim with a kind of half-hug which was the only thing he could manage when one of his hands was preoccupied with holding Jee-Yun while she tugged at his hair. 

“Just finishing breakfast – someone decided they can’t stand porridge five minutes after specifically asking for it so we’re running behind…” Chim poked his daughter in the cheek as they walked towards the kitchen. She shook her head vigorously and then buried it into Buck’s neck. 

“I’m sorry, are you suggesting something about my perfectly perfect niece,” Buck said with faux indignation. 

“If you think she’s perfectly perfect then I invite you to take her for the rest of the weekend,” Maddie said grouchily, scrunching up her face at Jee-Yun when her head popped up, making her giggle and bury her face back into Buck’s neck. 

“Say the word and I will whisk her away,” Buck announced, tickling Jee-Yun to get more of that melodic laughter. It made him wistful for those days before Christopher had grown out of enjoying being tickled by his Buck or his dad. 

At least Buck still got to enjoy that perfect innocence through his niece although for some reason it didn’t feel quite the same. 

“Yeah, and we’ll get her back filled with sugar and spoiled with gifts,” Chim said, chuckling. 

“That is an uncle’s prerogative.” 

“Sure,” Chim snorted, shaking his head. “Do you want a cup of coffee before you guys head out?” 

“Yeah, why not.” He’d already had one today but he felt like an Ikea trip warranted a second. 

Jee-Yun was squirming for freedom now so he squatted down to place her on her own two feet. She immediately zoomed off towards the doll house in the corner of the living room, plopping down in front of it and picking up the two dolls that must have been cast aside when she’d heard him coming in. 

“Are you hungry?” Maddie asked, using her fork to point at the half-eaten omelette on her plate. 

“Nah, I, uh, I went out for breakfast.” Buck pulled out one of the kitchen stools and settled himself opposite her on the counter. 

“Oh yes, that’s right,” Chimney exclaimed, face lighting up with eager glee as he handed Buck a mug of coffee. “How was breakfast with Natalia?” 

“Natalia?” Maddie asked, sitting up properly and pinning Buck with a sharply curious stare. “Who is Natalia?” 

“She’s… someone I went out to breakfast with,” was all Buck said even though he already knew that he wasn’t going to get away with the evasive answer. This was the problem with having your colleague date your sister – all information was constantly getting shared between those two parts of his life. 

Although admittedly it probably didn’t help that the 118 were a lot closer than your average coworkers and gossip was always flying between them all.

“Like a breakfast date?” Maddie prompted. 

“Yep.” Chim leaned forward on the counter, leaning on his elbows. “C’mon, Buckaroo, spill some details.”

Buck contemplated his answer for a moment, not wanting to give the wrong impression about what was still a very fledgling relationship in spite of how well they had clicked. 

“It was… it was nice,” was what he settled on, shrugging when he got two exasperated glares. “We’re going out for dinner on Wednesday.” 

“Ooh, second date,” Maddie said enthusiastically. “That’s a good sign.”

“Third,” Buck corrected. “We did drinks last week.”

“An even better sign,” Maddie said, undeterred. “That’s really good. This is the first person you’ve dated since you ditched the bitch, right?” 

Buck choked on the coffee he’d decided to sip at exactly the wrong moment. “Maddie!” 

“What?” Maddie asked, shrugging unrepentantly. “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate my baby brother – and betrays my boyfriend – is definitely someone I can call a bitch.” 

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Buck grumbled, the warmth from the unequivocal support thoroughly undercut by the accompanying dose of guilt because he certainly wasn’t blameless when it came to the downfall of his and Taylor’s relationship.

“It is to me. So who is this Natalia person? How did you meet her?” 

“Uh,” Buck said, not sure how he could answer that question in a way that would be palatable for his big sister. “She – we met on a call – she injured her hand and –”

“And you asked her out?” Maddie said dubiously, looking a little less excited. 

“Not then!” Buck said hurriedly. “Just – she stuck in my head, that’s all.”

Before Maddie could respond to that, Chimney added, “She’s a death doula.” 

This time it was Maddie who choked on her coffee. “Excuse me, she’s a what now?” 

“A death doula,” Buck replied, a touch defensively. “She supports people with making their end-of-life decisions.”

“That’s a thing?” Maddie said incredulously, glancing between them like she thought one of them would spring up and say ‘fooled ya!’. 

“Yeah, we met her at a ‘living funeral’ that she organised for one of her clients,” Chim told her.

“It’s not a new concept – lots of cultures have had something like it in the past. A death doula gives the dying person more control and autonomy over what’s happening to them,” Buck explained, repeating the information that Natalia had given him the first time they’d caught up after the call where they had met. 

He could see why the whole idea might make Eddie and Maddie uncomfortable, especially after his all-too-recent dalliance with death, but it absolutely fascinated him. The idea of death had always been synonymous with helplessness for him and the notion that there could be choice and power in how death was approached alleviated his discomfort in a way that he couldn’t articulate or explain.  

“Fair enough,” Maddie said, her face making it obvious that she didn’t really get it. “But I still think my baby brother dating a death doula feels a bit too much like you’re asking for trouble…” 

Chim somehow managed to express his agreement without saying an actual word. 

“Alright, you ready to go, Maddie?” Buck changed the subject, pushing his half-full mug away, his desire for it having waned during that conversation. 

Maddie frowned at him before sighing and standing from her stool, carrying her plate over the sink. “Okay, I can take a hint. Let me grab the measurements I need – Howie, where’s the sheet –” 

“We left it in Jee-Yun’s room,” Chimney said, straightening and moving away from the counter. “Do you want me to –”

“No, I’ll grab it,” Maddie said, already moving towards the corridor leading to the bedrooms. 

Chimney returned to his leaning position, considering Buck thoughtfully. Buck tensed, but thankfully Chimney didn’t try and keep pursuing the prior topic of conversation. “So what made you agree to brave the depths of hell that is Ikea? Did you finally decide to replace that god awful couch your mom bought?” 

“It’s not god awful,” Buck said, a part of him feeling like he had to defend the goodwill gesture from his parents. 

Chim sent him a disbelieving stare strong enough to wilt the defensiveness right out of him.

“It’s just regularly awful,” he admitted. “But no, I’m not going to get a new one when I have a perfectly good couch to use.”

“I think we just established that it is far from a good couch.”

“Chris needs an extension thing for his desk for more storage space,” Buck continued, ignoring him. Chris had been complaining for a few months now that there wasn’t enough space in his room for him to be able to organise all of the things he needed for school now that he was reaching higher grades and he had vehemently nixed Eddie’s suggestion to declutter his bookshelves. 

Eddie had capitulated fairly quickly, confessing later to Buck that there were far worse problems to have than a child who loved reading enough that he didn’t want to part with his books. They had started to investigate other storage solutions and found a few different options on Ikea’s website that would help maximise the capacity of Chris’ existing desk. 

“For Chris?” Chimney said, taken aback. “Why did – wouldn’t that be something you’d go with Eddie for?” 

“Yeah, but the last time I went to Ikea with Eddie he spent over a hundred bucks on decorative pillows.” Buck chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of Eddie insisting that burnt orange cushions were essential because ‘they’re seasonal, Buck, you can’t have green pillows in Fall.’

“And then he somehow managed to convince me to spend close to two hundred dollars on framed pictures,” Buck added, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. At the time, it had been more money than he had ever spent on decorating a place where he lived but Eddie had claimed that his new loft apartment ‘didn’t have enough life to make it worthy of being your home’ and insisted that adding some pictures would help with that.

He had mostly chosen landscape pictures which reminded him of his travels throughout the US, along with some random artsy pieces that were a little bit chaotic but were somehow soothing to look at. Between those and the drawings that Christopher had kindly donated for his fridge, Buck did have to concede that it made the loft feel a little more like it was his and not just a place that he was temporarily passing through. 

Chimney looked dumbfounded. “You know, I always did wonder about the pictures in your apartment...” 

“Alright, let’s head out.” Maddie bustled out of the corridor, her bag slung over her shoulder, her jacket over her arm, and a folded sheet of paper gripped tightly in one hand. 

They were well into the depths of Ikea’s warehouse, having successfully managed a speedrun through the display section, before Maddie broached the same topic of conversation. Of course, she knew him well enough to recognise that there was something more that was occupying his mind. 

“Nah, come on, you didn’t agree to tag along with me just to get more storage for Chris’ room. If it was so urgent, then Eddie would have already gotten it or ordered it online,” Maddie refuted knowingly when Buck tried to give her the same answer he’d given Chim. 

They were both pushing carts along, valiantly attempting to avoid adding anything in before they reached the final section with the furniture flat packs.

In classic Ikea fashion, they were failing miserably and both carts were already half-full with items that had absolutely not been on their list. Although Buck maintained that the giant unicorn which was almost double the size of Jee-Yun was an essential purchase for his niece. 

“Is it about Natalia? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were dating someone again.” 

“It’s not like it’s a full-blown relationship yet or anything,” Buck said, ducking his head sheepishly. “It’s – we’re seeing how it goes. I like having someone else to talk to about – about things.”

You can always talk to us,” Maddie said, setting down the soap dispenser she’d been contemplating to fix him with a serious look. “Me or Howie, and I’m sure Eddie or Bobby are always here if you need to talk about what happened.” 

“I know, but it’s different talking about it with her,” Buck said, not wanting to explain that she understood him in a different kind of way than his family. 

“That’s because she doesn’t know you,” Maddie pointed out shrewdly. Something about Buck’s body language must have been betraying his discomfort with the topic because she took on a lighter tone and changed the subject. “So, what’s been on your mind, then?” 

“I had a question for you,” Buck started, his eyes drawn to a set of three siblings that were playing around with some bath toys together while their parents appeared to be having an in-depth debate about towel colours. The oldest child seemed to be trying to instil some sort of order as his siblings pretended to make the plastic whales fight with each other. 

Maddie hummed to prompt him to continue. 

“How do you make sure you’re a good older sibling?” 

“Oh.” Maddie stopped pushing her trolley, staring at him in surprise. Buck grabbed the front of the trolley to help pull it along gently, steering them towards the lighting section so they could get out of the way of the main path before someone got annoyed at them.

“It looks like May and Harry have decided that I’m their older brother,” Buck shared in an attempt to give his question more context.

Annoyingly, that part didn’t seem to faze Maddie at all; she nodded and said, “Yeah, of course.” 

“And I don’t know if I know how to do that – I’ve always been the annoying younger sibling.” Buck shrugged self-deprecatingly, knowing his sister better than to hope that she would think it was a joke. 

“You’re not annoying,” Maddie scolded, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“Even when I gave all your dolls a haircut so they would look cool at the rock concert?”

“Alright, not any more annoying than a little brother should be,” Maddie amended, lips pursed as she tried to look disapproving but Buck could tell that she was trying not to laugh at the memory. 

“Come on, you’re the best older sister. I need you to give me your secrets,” Buck said, teasing but with an undercurrent of earnestness. 

“I think you’re probably in a better position to answer that question,” Maddie said thoughtfully. They started to move again, meandering through the maze of lamps and globes. “You’re the one who thinks I’m the best older sister.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, are you suggesting that it isn’t an objective fact,” Buck said, only half-joking. 

Maddie didn’t take on the lighter tone, her expression remaining serious. “There were a lot of times where I didn’t think I was being a very good sister to you.” 

“Is this about Boston?” Buck asked, slightly alarmed at the turn the conversation had taken. “Because I understand that you were going through a lot, Maddie.”

“Boston, Doug, Daniel,” Maddie listed, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Let’s face it, Evan, we’ve been through a lot of difficult times.” 

“Yeah, but we’ve gotten through it every time, Maddie,” Buck said urgently, keeping his voice low. He hadn’t expected the conversation to take such a serious turn and was starting to regret bringing this topic up here. It felt wrong to be talking about something so serious in the midst of screaming children running between a plethora of colourful hanging rugs. 

Buck held out his hand to her, pinky finger sticking out. “Every time, Maddie.”

She laughed, slightly croaky, entwining her pinky finger through his. 

Maddie took a deep breath and cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly as though to shake away the memories. “Maybe that’s all the advice you need, then. You just make sure that they know that no matter what happens, you’ll get through it with them. You’ll be there – every time.” 

“It feels like there should be more than that,” Buck complained good-naturedly.

But then again… that was ultimately the key difference between his relationship between Maddie and the rest of his blood family. He’d been estranged from them all while travelling and during his first year in LA but there had always been an underlying certainty that he would reconnect with Maddie again. He had never had that same confidence when it came to his parents. 

Maybe it really was as simple as showing May and Harry that they could rely on him, whether it was for something petty and small (the teacher who always assumed he was talking and told him off even if it had been someone else never did realise that he was the one pranking her because Maddie would always provide him with an alibi) or something huge and life-changing (he had his regrets about not pushing for Maddie to go with him when she’d given him the Jeep but he was still forever grateful that she had recognised he was burning and sent him on the path that ultimately led him towards his true family). 

It was a big responsibility, to take that role on for someone else. He thought it would feel more overwhelming to think about doing that for May and Harry but he actually felt pretty relaxed at the thought of it. 

(If he were sharing this with May, she would point out that yes, they already knew that they could rely on him for anything they needed and that was precisely why they already considered him to be their big brother. 

Alas, she was not there and Buck wasn’t about to share those revelations aloud, so the connection wasn’t going to be made in his head just yet.) 

“I mean, it’s probably not that different to what you do for Christopher. Although I guess that would be more of an uncle figure,” Maddie mused. She was slightly distracted, comparing a faux-wooden and fabric storage container, and didn’t notice the way Buck physically recoiled at the comparison. 

Which didn’t make much sense, did it? 

Uncle probably was the best descriptor for his role in Christopher’s life. A very, very close uncle who occasionally took on parenting responsibilities and would become the parent if the real parent ever died.

That was a normal uncle-thing, right? 

He shoved the maelstrom of emotions that always appeared on those rare occasions he allowed himself to reflect on his role in Christopher’s life to the back corners of his mind, reminding himself that he was Christopher’s Buck and they didn’t need to define it any more than that. 

Thankfully, Maddie seemed oblivious to his internal spiral and kept talking. “So why are you having this whole crisis about being a big brother now, anyway? If you were going to ask, I thought it would have been after Athena and Bobby got engaged. Or maybe after they got married, I guess.” 

“Huh?” Buck said blankly, thoroughly distracted from his thoughts about Christopher. “What – what do you mean?” 

“Why are you stressing about being a big brother now, like three, four years later?” Maddie said patiently, placing two different-coloured fabric storage boxes in her cart. 

“Maddie, I’m not – they aren’t – well, I guess they are now, but it wasn’t…” Buck trailed off, realising he was too dumbfounded to even think of what he wanted to say let alone actually string two sentences together. 

“It wasn’t what? Official?” Maddie scoffed. “Buck, you’ve been part of that family pretty much since the beginning.”  

“Maddie, Bobby isn’t actually my dad.” He was used to the hollow twinge that appeared in his heart whenever he had to remind himself of that, so it was easy to ignore. “I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that, considering we have the same dad.”

She shot him an exasperated look for the sarcasm which he shrugged off self-deprecatingly. It wasn’t like he was wrong. 

“Yeah, we do, but we also both know that Bobby has been more of a dad to you these last six years than our dad has been,” Maddie said matter-of-factly. She spun around to scrutinise him, keeping hold of the trolley behind her with one hand. “Everyone knows that. It can’t be news to you.” 

“You don’t have to make it sound so obvious,” Buck muttered, cowed by the way she’d made it sound like it was the most transparent thing in the world.

“Are you saying it is news to you?” she prodded incredulously.

He kept walking so that she would have to turn back around and he wouldn’t have to face her, reluctantly answering, “Kind of. Not really. Maybe.” 

Buck could hear her exasperated huff behind him at the non-answer but he kept walking anyway. 

It was news to him that apparently everyone around him also thought that his relationship with Bobby mirrored that of a father and son. But it wasn’t like he didn’t recognise the fact that there were elements of that kind of relationship either. 

Bobby was exactly the sort of father he had always dreamed of having: attentive, supportive, and caring. Phillip Buckley occasionally managed to show each of those traits but it was never consistent. As Buck had gotten older, it all started to feel like a performance and, just like a performance, there was nothing of substance left once the scenery and props had been put away. 

In contrast, everything Bobby did had an undercurrent of genuine and warmhearted care. Even when Bobby was stern or angry with him – which had actually gotten quite rare as the years went past – it was always accompanied by a sense that Bobby was being driven by a desire to keep Buck safe and help him be the best person or firefighter he could be. 

And Buck might be young but he’d had plenty of different jobs during his travels. He knew very well that it wasn’t normal for a boss to teach his employee how to cook or to consistently invite them to their house for dinner or out for breakfast. He also had plenty of firefighter acquaintances from his academy days and was well aware of how unusual it was for a captain to not only agree to be Buck’s emergency contact but to take that role incredibly seriously, to the point where most of the medical staff that were involved in his case inevitably ended up thinking that Bobby was actually his dad. 

So it wasn’t news to Buck that he thought of Bobby as his dad. But it was exactly that, a thought, one that he rarely dared utter aloud. The only times he had ever given voice to the idea was with people who didn’t really know either of them, like TK in Texas. Saying it to near strangers meant that they wouldn’t be able to bring Buck’s persistent insecurities about it to life. 

If he never talked about it, then no one could refute him. Or worse, tell him what a complete and unprofessional weirdo he was for even contemplating the idea that his captain would want to take on that role.

“You don’t – you don’t think it’s weird?” Buck asked tentatively, glancing at Maddie because he was pretty sure he would be able to tell if she was lying to appease his insecurities. 

The vice grip around his heart eased at her complete lack of hesitation in answering ‘no’. That must not have translated well to the rest of him though, because she expounded, “Look, it probably would be weird if you were latching onto some older dude who had no interest in having that dynamic. But Buck, Bobby invited you into that role –” she held up a hand to stop Buck from interrupting, anticipating what his protest would be “ – maybe he did it begrudgingly at first but he still did it.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know if I left him much of a choice though,” Buck said, recalling his coma epiphany. “I think I basically annoyed him into it.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Maddie said, amused in spite of herself. 

Buck gestured at himself with both hands to convey that if anyone could manage to do it, it would be him. 

“Who’s that other shift captain at the 118? Howie’s mentioned him before – Robertson?”

“Robinson,” Buck corrected, puzzled by the non-sequitur. 

“Right. He’s an older guy, isn’t he? Do you think you would have built the same relationship with him if he was your full-time captain?”

“No way.”

The answer was automatic. Robinson was kind enough, and attentive enough, and Buck had enjoyed working with him well enough on the occasions that B-shift needed a fill-in, but Robinson was not Bobby and he didn’t exude that same level of warmth and steadiness and acceptance that had drawn Buck towards Bobby. 

Maddie looked smug. “See? Bobby’s not some random older guy. He’s your dad – he has been for years, just like May and Harry have been your siblings for years. The only thing you’re doing differently now is talking about it and identifying it.”

She made it sound so simple, like she wasn’t talking about the exact thing he’d always been starkly terrified of doing. 

They were nearing the end of the display warehouse so he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind and let himself get distracted by the random paraphernalia that was displayed around the final room before the self-serve flat pack area. There was a wire container filled with differently shaped pillows that were quirky and cute. 

Would he be enabling Eddie’s unhealthy pillow obsession if he bought one for him as a gift? The grinning pumpkin would make for a good ‘seasonal touch’ around Halloween… 

“Oh, this one is cute,” Maddie exclaimed, pulling out a pillow in the shape of an ice-cream cone. Only the front was decorated; the back was made of a velvety material that was buttery smooth against his skin when he leaned over to test it. “I am so getting that for Jee-Yun.” 

“It’ll match her new unicorn,” Buck said, rifling through the other designs. There was one buried right near the bottom that immediately filled him with glee. 

“Also cute,” Maddie said approvingly, reaching out to feel the goofy and definitely not anatomically correct love heart. “Is that for Natalia?” 

“Nah,” Buck replied, placing it into his cart. It probably wasn’t going to be a pillow that would be put to use in the Diaz household, but the inside joke still felt like it was worth the ten bucks. “It’s for Eddie.”

“Oh…”

Chapter Text

The schoolyard was quiet when Bobby entered the grounds of Durand.

It was odd, being at a school without the precursor of some sort of emergency. It wasn’t something that he had done very often since losing Brooke and Robbie Junior: May had been old enough to drive herself and Harry to and from school by the time he had married Athena and Michael generally took on the duty of picking up Harry once she graduated since he had the most flexible schedule of them all. Bobby could probably count on one hand the number of times he had done a school pick-up or drop-off in the last decade.

But today, Christopher wasn’t feeling well and needed to be picked up early. Bobby assumed that Eddie, who was working an extra shift, must have called Buck and asked him to go in his stead as a favour. Unfortunately, Buck was stuck in traffic after getting lunch with Natalia on the other side of town. Stressed about leaving an unwell Christopher alone at school for too long, Buck had called Bobby and asked if he was able to get there any quicker. 

“It’s fine if you can’t,” he added quickly. “I can ask Eddie’s aunt or – or Carla maybe. You – uh, you were just my first thought.” 

Buck sounded abashed about his instinctive reaction to call Bobby for help first and Bobby hastened to reassure him that he would be happy to assist. He was sure that Captain Robinson would have let Eddie leave early if he asked but Eddie must have decided that he was fine to finish out the shift once Buck agreed to take Christopher and Bobby certainly didn’t want to discourage Buck from considering him to be his first port of call when he needed help by suggesting it. 

He had spent a long time cultivating that level of trust and making sure that Buck knew he could always rely on Bobby if he needed support, after all. 

However, Bobby was also well aware of how many strict protocols there were around who was allowed to take a child off school grounds and that Eddie would need to call and give permission for Chris to leave with him. Buck’s response to that had been a quick “yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it”, and Bobby really hoped that he had in fact managed to call Eddie and that Eddie had in turn gotten a hold of the school staff during the short time it had taken him to drive to Durand. 

Going by the blank look the middle-aged woman at the front desk gave him when he introduced himself, he resigned himself to the fact that the chain of communication must have broken down somewhere and that he was now in for an awkward interaction.

“So you’re here for Christopher Diaz,” the woman repeated, tapping her open notepad with a pen as she clicked through something on her computer. 

“Yes, he’s not feeling well,” Bobby said, on the off chance that he might be able to garner enough sympathy for her to look the other way. 

“For Christopher?” 

The query came from another woman, this one younger and wearing scrubs, who must have heard them from a room off to the side of the office. It had to be where they kept sick students that were waiting for their parents because Christopher appeared at her side a few moments later. 

He was pale and leaning heavily on his crutches, visibly listless and lethargic, but he managed to muster up a wan smile. “Hi, Bobby.” 

“Hey, Christopher.” Bobby gave him a sympathetic smile. “How are you feeling?” 

“Not very good,” he responded quietly, shrugging and hunching in on himself. 

Bobby stopped himself from probing for more details, thinking that perhaps Chris preferred not to share more in front of an audience. “Well, let’s try and get you home as soon as we can so you can rest up,” he said, turning back to the first woman hopefully.

“I can’t see your name on the list yet, Mr Nash,” she said, genuinely sounding sorry about it. She looked over at the nurse, seeking guidance about what to do next. 

“What relation are you?” the nurse asked, moving closer to them, Christopher trailing behind her slowly. 

“Uh, I’m –” he was about to describe himself as a family friend, since he figured that would go down better than ‘his dad’s boss’, except Christopher interrupted him to answer first.

“He’s like Buck’s dad.” He leaned forward on his crutches even more, staring up at the two women beseechingly. “Can I go home?” 

Bobby could feel himself flushing at Chris’ blunt description of his relationship to Buck, which didn’t even feel like it would be relevant in this situation anyway, but the plaintive plea was clearly more important so he pushed those feelings aside in favour of advocating to get the poor kid out of here.

“Look, can you try calling Eddie again?” he suggested, injecting a hint of the authoritative voice he used at work. “Or I can call him. I would really like to get Christopher home.” 

The nurse shook her head. “I don’t think we were able to get a hold of Mr Diaz at all.” She glanced down at the first woman, who nodded in confirmation.

“Oh…” Bobby stared, his growing frustration at the situation completely cut off at the knees. 

How had Buck even known that Christopher needed to be picked up early then? Had Chris texted him directly? 

That probably made the most sense; he’d learned after the zoo trip that Buck and Chris often shared interesting facts and tidbits with each other via text so Chris probably would feel comfortable messaging Buck once he realised the school was struggling to get in touch with his dad. 

Except Buck would have ended up in this exact same situation, with the school not allowing him to leave with Chris without his father’s permission. Although perhaps Buck was already a nominated person for pick-up? He knew that Buck had dropped Christopher off at school before and he knew that Buck had helped with a lot of the Diaz family logistics when Eddie was recovering from being shot and during his breakdown, so he supposed it stood to reason that he would be known by the school.

None of that really helped him, however, and he wasn’t sure how he should proceed. Eddie had to be in the middle of a rescue, since that was the only reason he would miss a call from Durand, which meant that trying to call Eddie himself wouldn’t help.

He had almost resolved to call Robinson on the 118 cell phone that every captain carried during the shift in the hope that he could grab Eddie for a few seconds when the nurse asked her colleague, “Who talked to Buck?”

“Moira.” 

“Do not tell me you need something from me, Sanders just asked for a spreadsheet that’s going to take me hours.” Another woman, presumably Moira, walked into the office from a back entrance. Despite her frustration-laced words, she did wander over to them after dropping the laptop and notebook she was holding onto the neatest of the three desks. 

“Nope, just wanted to check if Buck said anything about sending someone else to pick up Christopher Diaz?” the nurse queried, nodding towards Bobby. 

“Oh,” Moira exclaimed, glancing down at Chris apologetically. “Yes, he called me back right before Principal Sanders asked to speak with me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think we would take so long.” She turned to Bobby, giving him a quick once over. “What was your name?” 

Bobby started, too distracted by the influx of new information to answer immediately. 

“Bobby Nash.” 

“He’s Buck’s dad,” Chris repeated, whiny impatience infiltrating his voice. 

Moira smiled at him, looking more friendly. “Yeah, Buck gave permission for you to get Christopher, that’s all fine. Laura, can you grab the sign-out sheet?” 

Buck gave him permission? He was almost certain that nominating a pick-up person would be a privilege extended only to parents, not family friends. 

The first woman, Laura, started to click through a tablet that was sitting next to her computer. “Uh, do I write that you spoke with Buck here?” she asked Moira, showing her the tablet.

“You can write that stepdad nominated Grandpa for pickup, that’s fine,” Moira advised easily, smiling warmly at them.  

Bobby took the tablet Laura offered him on autopilot, his mind completely stuck on stepdad and grandpa. Seeing it written out in black and white on the screen did not help his bewilderment.

Where in the world would they have gotten the idea that Buck was Christopher’s stepfather? 

Was the misunderstanding simply because Buck had done that many pick-ups and drop-offs during Eddie’s various recovery periods? 

To assume he was a stepfather though – that seemed like a huge misunderstanding for school staff to have made when the majority of their job revolved around managing student records. 

But as long as the school was letting him sign out Christopher, he supposed it didn’t really matter what it said in their system… besides, he didn’t want to keep Chris waiting by refuting the claim and therefore dragging out the interaction. 

He was printing his name underneath his signature when Moira spoke up again. 

“You must be the one who taught Buck how to make that amazing raspberry coconut slice he brought to our last fundraising fete.”

Bobby looked up at her, startled enough at the unexpected non-sequitur that he stopped writing and his surname was left as ‘Nas’ when Laura took the tablet back on the assumption that he was done. 

“I, uh, I did teach him that one,” Bobby said tentatively, befuddled and uncertain about where this conversation was going. 

He actually remembered the evening that he had taught Buck how to make that exact slice. Buck had come over the night that his parents left after that disastrous visit during Maddie’s pregnancy and Bobby had thought something sweet was in order. He picked that particular slice because it was easy to make and he wanted to avoid anything too intensive after Buck’s experience in the blaze that engulfed the former-perfume factory.  

Buck had spoken about sharing it with Eddie and Christopher – Bobby hadn’t realised that it had then ended up at Christopher’s school fete?

“I’ve heard stories about that slice,” Laura commented enviously, slotting the tablet back into place.

The nurse, who had slipped out while Bobby was signing the tablet, returned with Christopher’s backpack in her hand, offering it to Bobby.

Bobby accepted the bag with a murmured ‘thank you’, slinging it over his shoulder, grateful that this strangely overwhelming interaction was almost over. 

“Well, it was nice to meet the person responsible for Buck’s never-ending supply of baked goods,” Moira said cheerfully. “Tell him – or Eddie – that they should get you added to the pick-up list so that you’re not stuck waiting for me next time. I am very sorry about that.”

“It got sorted in the end,” Bobby said diplomatically. 

It was the only thing he could think to say. 

“I hope you feel better soon, Christopher,” the nurse said, giving them a small wave goodbye. 

“Thanks,” Chris said. He managed to muster up another smile but it was obvious that he was ready to get out of there. 

Bobby ushered him out through the front door towards where he’d parked the car, thankful that he’d thought ahead and it was relatively close. 

Christopher was moving quite slowly; Bobby wondered for a fleeting moment whether he should offer to carry him. However, he remembered Eddie lamenting about not being able to pick Chris up as often anymore since he had started expressing his desire for more independence and Bobby figured it would be an even bigger affront to said independence for someone other than his dad to do it.

He tried to see if he could get any more detail about how the kid was feeling as they slowly made their way towards the car. Despite his best efforts, Chris still wasn’t overly forthcoming although he did divulge that it was mostly his stomach that was causing him grief. 

Taking advantage of the brief privacy he got as he loaded the backpack in the car while Chris clambered into the front seat, Bobby sent a text off to Buck and Eddie to update them and to let them know they were about to leave Durand. 

The phone rang right as Bobby was twisting the key to turn the engine on. He waited a few seconds for the bluetooth to connect and then hit the button to accept the call, unsurprised when Buck’s voice filled the car.

“Hey Bobby, can you –”

“Hey, Buck, you’re on speaker in the car with us,” Bobby interjected, wanting to make sure Buck knew that Chris would be able to hear him. He started to back out of the parking spot as Chris added his own hello. 

“Hey, bud,” Buck said, his voice a lot less brisk than it was during his initial greeting. “How we doing? You hanging in there?”

“I guess. How far away are you?” The question had far more animation in it than any of the answers Bobby had gotten thus far, some of the listlessness replaced by audible sulkiness. 

“Not far at all, buddy,” Buck said soothingly. “Bobby, you know that complex at the corner of Florence and Lawson? It has a gym and a doctor’s office with a pharmacy?”

“Yeah, I think I know the one you mean.”

“Can you meet me there? The practice said they could squeeze Christopher in.” 

“Buuuck, I just wanna go home,” Chris whined. 

Bobby glanced over at him as he flicked his indicator on to turn right. Christopher was leaning against the window, his arms crossed over his seatbelt and his face firmly set in a strong pout to convey his displeasure. 

“I know, Chris, but we want to make sure this doesn’t have anything to do with that bug you caught last month. Remember what the specialist said about recurring infections? We definitely want to catch that early so you don’t keep getting sick, bud. It would absolutely suck if it got worse when we could have stopped it, right?”

Buck’s explanation was incredibly patient, softly coaxing Christopher into a more agreeable state.  

Bobby was fairly certain he had used that exact same tactic on Buck during his recovery from both the ladder truck and the lightning strike. 

Hearing it from an outside perspective made him realise how parental it sounded. 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do or how to feel about that particular realisation.

Christopher returned to staring at the passing streets through the window, not answering Buck but at least no longer on the verge of arguing. Buck must have thought that was enough of a win, because he switched back to talking to Bobby. 

“I’m about fifteen minutes away, and I think it should take about twenty from Durand?”

“Probably also closer to fifteen now,” Bobby guessed, accelerating slightly to get through an orange light. They didn’t really need to get on any major roads so he didn’t think traffic would be much of an issue for them.  

“Awesome. I’ll see you guys soon.”

Buck hung up, the car system switching back to the radio. Bobby let the current song finish before trying to talk to Christopher again. 

“Sounds like you’ve already been through this rodeo, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Chris responded grouchily, shifting so he was no longer staring out of the passenger side window. “Dad and Buck get super paranoid ‘cause my CP means I get recurring infections and I can get immune to the antibiotics.” 

Another flash of deja vu came over him – Buck had also whined that he was being paranoid when Bobby had insisted they call the cardiologist the first time Buck had experienced chest pain after the lightning strike. 

(It turned out that Buck was right and it was only heartburn.

Bobby had not appreciated the scare and still hadn’t added his chilli pork fettuccine back into the Pasta Thursday rotation.)

“They’re probably only paranoid because they care about you,” Bobby pointed out lightly, not giving away the complex mix of emotions churning through him. 

“I know,” Chris grumbled. “Still sucks, though.” 

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Bobby commiserated. 

Guessing that Christopher was probably in more pain than he was letting on, going by the grimace on the poor kid’s face, he stopped trying to continue the conversation and let them lapse into silence. 

Bobby made sure to be extra careful going through the speed bumps and taking the turns, so it took them a little longer than he’d estimated to reach the doctor’s office. Buck was already waiting outside of his Jeep for them when they pulled into the parking lot. 

“Hey.” Buck flashed a quick smile at Bobby before focusing on Christopher. “Aw, bud, I’m sorry you’re not feeling great.”

“I don’t like it,” Chris whined, his eyes tearing up a little for the first time. 

“It’s alright, we’ll get you feeling better soon,” Buck soothed. He leaned down to pick Christopher up carefully, letting the crutches swing around his back as he stood up. 

The pre-teen was surprisingly pliant in his arms, dropping his head onto Buck’s shoulder like he was simply happy to be off his feet. 

“Let me grab his bag for you,” Bobby said, tearing his eyes away from the scene to go around to the back of his truck. 

“Thanks, Bobby.” Buck shifted Chris slightly so that he was supporting him with one hand and fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the Jeep’s doors. “Eddie also wanted to say thanks – he’s probably texted you by now.”

“You spoke to Dad?” 

“Yep. He said they were wrapping up a scene and he would be able to finish a couple hours early so hopefully he’ll be able to meet us at home once we finish up here,” Buck told him reassuringly. 

Home – it could be that Buck was simply using the term for Christopher’s sake but the last hour or so was making Bobby hyper-aware of Buck’s word choices. 

Wracking his brain, he realised that Buck didn’t often use the term ‘home’. More often than not, he referred to his own home as ‘the loft’. 

Was it common for him to refer to Eddie’s house as ‘home’? Bobby honestly couldn’t remember. It had never felt all that relevant to pay attention to. 

“You can throw it in the back,” Buck told him, interrupting his train of thought. 

The Jeep only added more fodder for his musings; it was impossible to miss the signs of Christopher in the back seat. There was a colourful drink bottle with C.D written on the bottom in sharpie, a beaten down set of child’s sneakers, a battered notebook with a pen attached, a jacket and a hoodie. There was also a stray pacifier buried between the seats and a toddler’s pop-up book, clear indications that Jee-Yun had been driven in the car, but it was still obvious that the backseat was Christopher Diaz’s domain. 

“Thanks again, Bobby. I really appreciate the help,” Buck said fervently, locking the car once Bobby had stepped away. Chris echoed the thanks, shifting so he could see Bobby without having to lift his head off Buck’s shoulders. 

“No problem at all. I really hope you feel better soon, Christopher.”

Bobby watched as Buck and Chris entered the doctor’s office, suddenly not quite sure if it was Durand’s school staff who had misconstrued their relationship… or if it was Bobby who had somehow missed something very, very important. 

LAX was always busy but the arrivals hall right in the middle of the afternoon was a particularly chaotic circle of hell. It reminded May of the one and only time she and her friends had braved the Black Friday sales, although at least this time she wasn’t in danger of getting her foot run over by a middle-aged dude desperate for a new ultra-HD television. 

“Do you see them?” she asked Harry, lamenting her lack of height as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to get a better vantage point. 

“Not yet.” Harry was ducking around people, swivelling his head around to try and catch sight of their grandparents. “We should have told them to meet us at the Starbucks or something.” 

“You couldn’t have thought of that when we spoke to Grandma yesterday?” May complained, going to punch him on the shoulder lightly. He managed to wriggle away before she could connect and then made a noise of triumph. 

“I see them!” 

Once she started following Harry, she quickly spotted their grandmother and then a few seconds later could also see her grandfather, who was being pushed along in a wheelchair. The sight caused a spark of concern; from what she’d heard, Grandpa was at a point in his stroke recovery where he had graduated to using a cane to get around. 

“There are our grandbabies,” Beatrice cooed when she spotted them. She opened her arms, completely ignoring the small group whose path she was now blocking. 

May laughed, accepting the hug and then trading with Harry to hug her grandfather. 

“I can take your suitcase, Grandma,” Harry said enthusiastically, pulling away from the embrace and tugging the large four-wheeled suitcase from her hands. 

“Thank you, baby,” Beatrice said, patting his hair. She went back to Samuel’s wheelchair, starting to push it down the packed corridor again. 

“We can go out this way,” May directed, spotting another exit not far from where they were standing. “It’ll probably be quicker than trying to get through the crowds in here.” 

“Good idea,” Samuel said. He spoke a lot slower than May was used to but his words were clear which signified a pretty big improvement. When May had spoken with him over the phone not long after he’d woken up, he was still heavily slurring his words and struggled to articulate what he wanted to say. 

“The crowds are ridiculous,” Beatrice agreed, angling the wheelchair to follow May towards the other exit. She leaned around the wheelchair slightly to address Samuel directly. “This was why I said we should take the wheelchair – can you imagine everyone bumping into you if we were trying to walk through this throng?” 

“Eh,” Samuel scoffed, waving at her. He focused on May, holding out his hand towards her, waiting for her to take it before speaking. “Did you enjoy your birthday, sweetheart?” 

“Loved all of it,” May replied cheerfully, squeezing his hand. “And thank you again for the gift card – when we get home, I’ll show you the necklace I bought with it.” 

“I’m glad you managed to find something you like and that will remind you of us,” Beatrice said warmly. “I’m sorry we didn’t manage to make it here in time for your actual birthday.” 

“Don’t be silly, grandma,” May insisted. “I’d rather you guys be here later but healthy than for Grandpa to skip part of his rehab just to come on the day.”

“I still say we could have done it,” Samuel grumbled.

Beatrice ignored him. “Well, we still bought a nice bottle of wine to help celebrate our first grandbaby turning twenty-one.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” May called over her shoulder, striding ahead to the parking machine to pay for their ticket.  

“We’ve had it planned for years, it’s been aged a perfect amount of time,” Samuel said. He turned to Harry, adding, “Don’t worry, we’ve got a good bottle of whiskey waiting for your twenty-first, young man.” 

“Do we have to wait until then?” Harry joked, grinning at Samuel as his grandma gave him a light scolding swat on his shoulder. 

“I assume your Mama also got you a nice bottle for you to try as your first drink,” Beatrice said to May. 

“Uh, no – well, yes she got me a bottle,” May corrected herself. “I haven’t tried it yet, though.” 

“She made Buck make margaritas for her,” Harry supplied. “There was loads of tequila.” 

“Okay, I had one margarita,” May said indignantly. She snatched the validated ticket out of the machine, waving it at Harry to emphasise her point. 

Not that he was paying much attention to her, since he’d gone to press the button for the lift. 

“Buck?” Beatrice repeated, puzzled.

“That must be the other man we saw in the photos Athena sent us,” Samuel said thoughtfully, looking up at Beatrice as they all filed into the lift. “The tall blond one.”

“Oh, yes, we wondered who that was. I hope it wasn’t a boyfriend.” She arched an eyebrow at May, looking a lot more like Athena at her most formidable than May’s sweet and supportive grandmother. “He looked quite a bit older than you.”

“Eww.” Harry shuddered overdramatically. “He’s like our brother!”

“He basically is our brother,” May agreed strongly. 

Beatrice’s eyebrow dropped, the sternness replaced by consternation.  

“And I wanted my big brother to be there and to make me my first drink.” 

“He’s Bobby’s boy?” Beatrice said sharply, exchanging a glance with Samuel.

“I didn’t know Bobby had a son,” Samuel said, more slowly than before. 

“It’s complicated,” May admitted. She wasn’t quite sure how her grandparents would feel about the notion of chosen families. She knew that they weren’t originally very supportive of Athena’s relationship with Bobby, although as far as she was aware they’d had surprisingly little issue with accepting Michael’s sexuality. However, they were also people who hugely valued family so she thought there was a good chance they would be accepting once they understood how important Buck was to the Grant-Nashs. Wanting to start making that importance clear to them, she added, “But Harry and I are working on making sure Buck knows that he’s an essential part of our family.” 

“Yeah, we’re un-complicating it,” Harry declared proudly, pushing the suitcase forward to roll on its own for a few feet so he could exchange a fist-bump with May. 

“Complicated?” Beatrice huffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

May cringed internally, wondering if it was worth trying to explain things further to her grandparents right now. They were only going to be here for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t want to lose the momentum she had gained in her attempt to get Buck integrated into their family properly. 

There was no way she was going to let things fall into the old status quo again. Not when she was this close to changing things for good.

By the time they finally reached the car, she was set in her decision not to talk more about it here. As far as she was concerned, she and Harry had told them the situation as they saw it. 

Her grandparents' understanding would probably be helped along if they also got the opportunity to see how easily Buck fit into their family with their own eyes…

Pretending that she needed to let her mom that they were on their way out of the airport, May sent a quick text to Buck asking him to pick up the dessert Athena had ordered for Beatrice and Samuel’s welcome dinner tonight. She wrote a follow-up text apologising and explaining that the traffic was way worse than expected, which wasn’t even that much of a lie because it was LA and traffic was always terrible. 

As it turned out, the excuse was unnecessary since Buck’s agreement came through at the same time she hit send on her second text.

Which, like, such big bro behaviour to immediately say yes to his little sister asking for help. 

Satisfied, she exited the messaging app and slipped her phone back into her handbag.

If Buck disagreed with how she’d characterised his role in their family, or Bobby for that matter, then they could explain things differently to her grandparents themselves. 

(Beatrice was helping Samuel to transfer from his wheelchair to the front passenger seat while May and Harry wrestled to get the large suitcase into her car’s small trunk. 

“What could possibly be so complicated that Athena wouldn’t even tell us that we have another grandchild?” Beatrice complained, keeping her voice low so that the children wouldn’t hear.

“The fact that we’ve never even met the boy is not what I would expect from Bobby,” Samuel added, frowning in disappointment. “I know he’s a step-grandchild – and not a child, I suppose –” 

“Oh, like that matters,” Beatrice interrupted impatiently. “Family is family.”)

“Hello, hello,” Athena called. She could hear noise coming from the dining room and Harry hollered at her in return, confirming that her family was gathered there. She dropped her bag onto the couch on her way through the living room, hurrying onwards, keen to see her parents.

Her gaze zeroed in on her father first, wanting to see how he looked in the flesh after months of only seeing him on video calls. He was sitting at the head of the table with May and Harry on either side of him, a deck of cards set up in front of them showing that they were playing something together. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” Samuel greeted. Athena stepped up to him to accept the hug she knew was coming, watching as he got to his feet, leaning heavily on the table. Despite that struggle, she could see that he looked significantly better and far less frail than he had done when she left Florida. The realisation eased something in her chest which allowed her to melt into the hug in a way that she hadn’t done in a long time. 

“It’s good to see you up and about, Daddy,” she said, kissing his cheek as they drew apart. “I’m glad you could both make it up to visit.” 

“So are we,” Beatrice announced self-assuredly, bustling out of the kitchen towards her. “It’s good to see you again, baby – and the kids have gotten so big!”

Bobby followed her around from the kitchen, staying near the bench while Beatrice greeted her with another hug and kiss. Even though he smiled at her like usual when he noticed Athena looking at him, she could tell that he was unusually tense. 

She knew that her parents’ relationship with Bobby was complicated, but her husband generally handled that with the same patient aplomb he used at difficult scenes the 118 was called out to. Athena sent him a narrow-eyed questioning look, wondering what had happened before she had gotten home that would have knocked him off-kilter like that. 

He shook his head slightly, indicating that she shouldn’t worry. His attempted placation certainly didn’t work but she left it for now, resolving to go back to it later when they had some privacy.  

“Believe me, I know,” Athena chuckled, answering her mother’s observation. She leaned over to kiss Harry and then May’s head, adding, “I also can’t believe how big they’ve gotten.”

“Mom, I’ve literally been the same height for, like, years now,” May pointed out exasperatedly. 

“I haven’t,” Harry gloated, puffing his chest out. 

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a weed,” May shot back.

“A weed that’s gonna be taller than you,” Harry shrugged, undeterred from his gloating. 

“How was work?” Bobby asked, smoothly cutting off the argument before it could continue. 

“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” Athena said dismissively. “I had some paperwork that I had to finish or else I would have needed to go in early tomorrow and I didn’t want to miss breakfast with everyone.” 

“Good call, Harry convinced Grandma to make cinnamon toast and Bobby to make French toast,” May said, picking up her cards again as Samuel slowly eased back into his seat. 

“Sounds like a very decadent breakfast,” Athena commented, amused. “How is dinner coming along?”

“Good, should be ready in about twenty,” Bobby said, leaning over to kiss her cheek before turning back towards the stove. “Your mom has been a great help.”

Beatrice waved off his thanks with a platitude, but her tone was a little cool and she didn’t return his smile. Bobby seemed resigned and unsurprised by the stand-offish response. Athena guessed that meant that her mother had been displaying that same attitude since she had arrived, which at least explained why Bobby was tense. 

It was still puzzling though – what had caused the regression in Beatrice’s behaviour towards Bobby? 

Was it a delayed reaction to the sharp rebuke her husband had meted out after the argument they’d had while Samuel was unconscious in the hospital? They had thought that Beatrice understood where Bobby was coming from but perhaps the distance from that stressful time had made her reevaluate her feelings about it?

“I’m going to freshen up before dinner,” Athena announced, gaze lingering on her mother. “Come with me, Mama?” The doorbell rang before she managed to finish the sentence, which was unexpected since as far as she was aware they weren’t expecting anyone else for dinner. “Did Michael and David message to say that they could make it after all?” 

“It’s probably Buck,” May said, checking her phone. 

“Why is Buck here?” Bobby asked, surprised, coming back around the counter. 

He didn’t seem to notice Beatrice’s exasperated glare but Athena did and it only mystified her further. What in the world about that byplay was so objectionable to her mother?

“Maps said there was heaps of traffic so I asked Buck to pick up the dessert so we didn’t have to worry about rushing,” May explained, pushing back her chair to head towards the door.

Beatrice gestured for her to go back, turning towards the front entrance herself. “You finish your game, sweetheart, I’ll get the door.”

Athena spared a moment to exchange a baffled look with her husband before hurrying after her mother. 

“Have you met Buck before?” she asked in a low voice even though she was sure that they hadn’t. Her parents didn’t fully understand the close bonds formed between first responders so Athena didn’t really make a habit of throwing large get togethers with their extended chosen family when her parents were in town. And their last visit would have occurred when they were still dealing with the aftereffects of the lawsuit debacle anyway, meaning that it was unlikely they would have randomly crossed paths with Buck because he was meeting Bobby or anything like that.

“No, which quite frankly I find ridiculous,” Beatrice said reproachfully, frowning at Athena. 

It wasn’t often that Athena found herself speechless but the completely unanticipated frustration Beatrice was radiating was enough to manage it. 

Not that Beatrice had any issues ranting through the silence. 

“Honestly, Athena, I know I wasn’t thrilled about your marrying Bobby but you know that children are something completely different. I had to wait four years to find out you have a stepson? That I have another grandson? What must that poor boy think of us?” 

Athena froze at the bottom of the entrance stairs, some of the pieces falling into place although there still weren’t quite enough of them to make a complete picture. 

“Mama –” 

Beatrice opened the door, cutting Athena off, which was fine because she wasn’t even sure what she was going to say anyway. 

“You must be Buck,” she greeted warmly, beckoning him inside, all signs of her annoyance completely hidden. 

“Uh, yes,” Buck said, perplexed at being invited into the house by someone he didn’t expect. However, he didn’t let it last long, turning on a charming smile as he stepped over the threshold, shifting the large box in his arms so that he could address Beatrice properly. “You must be the lovely Mrs Carter.”

“Oh, don’t you call me that – it’s Beatrice at the very least,” she said firmly, reaching up to give him a light hug. 

Athena could only shrug in response to the wide-eyed and slightly panicked look Buck sent her over Beatrice’s shoulder. At this point, she was just grateful that at least her mother didn’t jump straight into suggesting that he call her Grandma…

“Thank you for picking up the dessert, Buck,” Athena said, deciding to pretend this whole thing was totally normal, at least until she could get to the bottom of what was going on herself. “I appreciate it.” 

“Always happy to help,” Buck declared cheerfully, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. “Uh, where do you want me to –”

“Come through to the kitchen,” Beatrice directed. “Everyone is there – Samuel will be thrilled to meet you.”

Athena could tell that it wasn’t the answer that Buck was expecting – she had a feeling that his plan had probably been to pass on the box and be on his way without ever entering the house – but to his credit he masked his confusion quickly, walking into the kitchen and saying hello to everyone as he placed the box on the counter.

“Thanks for the rescue,” May said, leaning her arm across over the back of the chair to give him a fist bump. 

“That’s what first responders are for,” Buck replied, pretending to puff his chest out. 

“I’m glad it meant we got to meet you,” Samuel said, holding out his hand to shake Buck’s. “It would have been a travesty if we missed out on the opportunity again.” 

“Oh, um, it’s – it’s good to meet you too, sir.” Buck’s eyes were wide again, the mask slipping.

“We’ve been hearing so many stories from May and Harry,” Beatrice added. “It sounds like having you in their life has been a real boon for them.”

“I don’t know about that,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, starting to look overwhelmed. 

“Nah, you’re an amazing bro,” May quipped, deadpan. 

A few more of those puzzle pieces fell into place for Athena. Given May’s insistence on acknowledging exactly what she thought Buck’s place in their life was, she perhaps should have been more prepared for it to come up during her parent’s visit. 

Bobby, who had been watching the interaction with a bemused frown, interjected to give Buck a reprieve from the attention. “How is Christopher, by the way? Is he feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually. He was back at school this week,” Buck said, instantly looking lighter now that they were on the topic of one of his favourite people. “It looks like it was the same bug he’d gotten before but the doc didn’t think antibiotics were necessary, which we were pretty happy about. Eddie moved up the appointment with the paediatric specialist to double check that there’s definitely no underlying reason why it recurred. At this stage, it looks like it was just some bad luck though.” 

“Good to hear,” Bobby said, looking relieved. “Poor kid seemed pretty miserable when I picked him up from school.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t a great couple of days,” Buck agreed, wincing. “I think Eddie and I got maybe two hours of sleep each, max, on that first day – we had to keep taking it in turns to be up with him when he was throwing up.” 

Athena had thought that Bobby was probably over-thinking and over-exaggerating what he had observed when he had shared his insights about Buck’s surprisingly parental demeanour towards Christopher while he’d been sick.

Hearing Buck talk about it first-hand was making her rethink that particular conclusion. 

The oven timer went off – “the bread rolls are ready,” Beatrice said, snatching up a tea towel on her way across the room. 

“Oh, uh, I should go,” Buck said, flustered, “leave you to your family dinner.” 

Beatrice stopped short next to the oven, appalled. “Of course you’re welcome to stay.” She sent Athena a sharp look, silently urging her to jump in. 

“Did you have plans for tonight?” Athena asked mildly, wanting to make sure they weren’t actually stopping him from doing something else. She didn’t look at Bobby – this situation was already complex enough without adding his reluctance to acknowledge the obvious into the mix. 

Buck seemed torn, like he wasn’t sure whether to tell the truth or lie about his plans. “No…” 

Athena scrutinised him; Buck was an awful liar, especially when he was talking to her. Satisfied that he was being truthful, she nodded at the seat next to May. “You should have dinner with us.” 

“I – are you sure?” Buck asked weakly, his wringing hands betraying his uncertainty.  

Samuel didn’t dignify his prevarication with an answer, pointing at the cards on the table instead. “Do you know how to play gin?” he queried. 

“He does, Bobby also taught him how to play,” May answered. She gathered all the cards together and started to shuffle them, staring at Buck until he got the hint and sat down.

“It kept him busy and out of trouble at the hospital,” Bobby said fondly, coming around and placing an empty glass in front of Buck. 

“You would think that would mean he would have let me win once in a while,” Buck laughed awkwardly, relaxing slightly when Bobby gave him a quick unobtrusive squeeze on the shoulder as he walked back.

“Ah, what did they have you in for?” Samuel asked, patting the cane leaning against his chair in commiseration. 

“Oh, it’s, uh, I actually got struck by lightning,” Buck explained, rubbing the side of his chest where Athena remembered seeing his lichtenberg scar. 

“Excuse me?” Beatrice exclaimed, leaning over the counter, horrified. 

“Yeah, he actually died,” Harry said avidly, his face lit up in awe.

Athena didn’t begrudge him the tone-deaf response; he was young and he had been mostly insulated from the entire experience. She hadn’t even had all that much time to keep Michael informed about what was going on, and the details had only been passed onto Harry once Buck was out of his coma and they were all sure he would escape unscathed yet again. 

It made sense that her youngest child would fixate on the part of the story that involved Buck overcoming the impossible, unlike the rest of them who all got stuck on those hours when they had to grapple with the all too real terror that perhaps Buck’s luck had finally run out. 

“Only for, like, three minutes,” Buck expounded hastily, seeing the shock on Beatrice and Samuel’s faces.  “I’m fine now – good as new.” 

He couldn’t see how pale Bobby had gotten behind him. 

“Bobby, why don’t you sit down and join them for a round of gin.” Athena changed the subject swiftly, coupling her words with a stern look. 

May complied with the indirect order, doling out an extra hand of cards to the chair next to Harry. 

Athena fixed Bobby with another look that dared him to contradict her or to pretend that he didn’t need a moment to regroup. He pursed his lips, the protest dying before he had a chance to voice it, and went to take  the seat opposite Buck. 

“Well, I don’t like going easy on my opponents when I play either,” Samuel declared, mustering a cheerful smile as he carefully picked up the hand in front of him. 

“Maybe we should gang up on them,” May whispered to Buck loudly. 

Buck snorted. “That might be the only way we have a chance.”

“Hey,” Harry protested indignantly, frowning at them. “You can’t leave me out!”

Satisfied that the tone was shifting to something more positive again, Athena went over to Beatrice, who was still standing in front of the kitchen bench. “Mama, I’ll help finish dinner.” 

“There isn’t much left to do, it just needs a few more minutes on the stove,” Beatrice said dismissively. “Athena, I’m surprised at you –” 

Athena cut her off with a warning glare, walking further into the kitchen so that they were mostly out of earshot of the rest of the family. Beatrice obliged and followed her, continuing as soon as they were clear, her voice low but no less passionate for it. 

“I’m surprised at how willing you are to put up with a man who lets his child feel so unwelcome in his family.” 

“Mama –” 

“The fact that your father and I had no idea about him, the fact that he rings the doorbell and doesn’t feel like he can walk into a house that should be as good as his home, the fact that he doesn’t want to ‘interrupt family dinner’,” Beatrice listed scornfully. “I expected better.”

Athena raised her hand, hoping that would stop the diatribe. “Mama,” she repeated, and this time Beatrice did actually let her get a word in edgewise.

The only thing was, she still wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

Because she didn’t want to say that Buck wasn’t Bobby’s son. 

Even when Bobby had been actively trying to deny it, she had never agreed with him. Athena had clocked that relationship within a few months of observing their interactions and she had known exactly what she was getting into when she realised that her romance with Bobby was turning into something serious and permanent. 

She also had no desire to undermine her daughter’s mission to get him out of the periphery of their family and into it properly. For one thing, she approved of it, and for another, she was rather enjoying watching it unfold.

And finally, while he shouldn’t be able to overhear, she definitely didn’t want to say it with Buck in the room when it seemed like he and Bobby were finally making progress with understanding the bond they shared. 

“It’s – it’s complicated.” She cringed internally at the vague response, knowing that her mother wouldn’t be impressed. 

Sure enough, Beatrice straightened like she was preparing to start scolding her again. 

Athena ignored the twinge of stubbornness which wanted to rebel at being made to feel like a child, reminding herself that her mother was coming from a good place and that she really didn’t understand the dynamics at play. 

“It is complicated,” she said again, reaching to grasp her mother’s hand. “But Bobby and Buck are working on it. We are all working on it. And I can assure that he knows that we will always be there for him. Will you please trust me?”

“Alright,” Beatrice relented after a beat, patting Athena’s hand. “I don’t understand what could be so complicated but of course I trust you.” 

“Thank you, Mama,” she said, grateful to have reached some sort of compromise. 

“I hope you know that your father and I are still intending to get to know him better during this trip, though.”

“You know what, just don’t go telling him to call you Grandma and Grandpa and I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Athena advised, turning to her wine cabinet with a sigh.

She needed a decent glass of red after all that. 

“Hang on, they took you and May and Harry out for dinner?” Hen clarified, looking confusedly at Buck, fork suspended in midair. “No Bobby or Athena?” 

“I didn’t even know it was happening,” Bobby groused. He was chopping some more red peppers to add to the mix of omelette ingredients that were organised next to the stove, ready for the next group of firefighters who wandered into the kitchen hungry for some breakfast after a night filled with calls and interruptions. 

“Hey, I texted you,” Buck protested, closing the fridge door. He placed the can of energy drink on the counter while he added some extra ingredients to the omelette he was in the midst of making for himself. 

Bobby frowned at the can. He wasn’t a huge fan of them personally although he understood the need for them given the taxing nature of their long shifts. But considering that Buck’s relatively recent near-death experience had included him going into cardiac arrest, he really didn’t like the idea of the kid drinking something so overly caffeinated. 

“I thought your text was saying that you were coming over for dinner,” Bobby said. He ignored Buck’s indignant squawk as he casually snagged the unopened drink and placed it out of reach. “I made an extra roast chicken.” 

“At least it can be used for sandwiches?” offered Buck, shrugging.

“Okay, can we go back to the fact that Athena’s parents took you out for dinner along with their grandkids?” Chimney said, waving his coffee mug to signify that they were getting side-tracked.

“And no one else,” Hen added pointedly.

“I mean, I’m not going to complain about it,” Buck prefaced. “They’ve been really nice and it was a good dinner. But it is a little weird, right? It’s not just me?” 

He slipped his omelette onto the waiting plate, making one last attempt to get the energy drink on his way to the stools on the other side of the counter. Bobby made a mental note to slip Chim an extra piece of dessert when the man took up his cause by moving the can out of Buck’s reach again. 

“I hate you all,” Buck muttered under his breath petulantly, dropping onto the stool next to Hen with a pout. 

“Hey,” Chimney objected indignantly when Hen stole his mostly-full coffee mug and plunked it in front of Buck as a consolation. 

“It’s definitely not just you,” Hen said, ignoring the asides. “It’s also definitely not the Carter’s style… I've never even had dinner with Beatrice in all the years I’ve been friends with Athena.” 

“Have you got any insights into why, Cap?” Chim asked curiously.

“Not really,” Bobby said, setting down his knife and deliberating the chopped bell peppers like they could provide answers. 

“That sounds like you’ve got suspicions,” Hen pointed out shrewdly, narrowing her eyes at Bobby. 

“Yeah, it does,” Buck echoed, suddenly alert. Bobby had told him that he had no idea when Buck had first asked him. “Spill, Cap.” 

“They’re very unsubstantiated suspicions,” Bobby said, prevaricating. “I haven’t spoken to them much so far – they don’t seem very happy with me at the moment.” 

It had been quite disconcerting, actually. While he and Beatrice had always struggled to see eye to eye, he had bonded with Samuel over their shared understanding that it was futile to tell Athena to do anything she didn’t want to do. Up until this visit, he would have said that they had a stable and friendly, if politely distanced, relationship. 

Their distinct frostiness towards him once he joined them at the house had therefore taken him aback. His initial guess was that it was related to the argument he’d had with Beatrice while Samuel was still unconscious in the hospital but that theory didn’t hold up given some of the frostiness had subsided after that first night. 

All Athena had said when he had asked if she knew anything more was that “it’s complicated and I don’t want it to interfere with how things are going.” 

He had his suspicions about what she meant by ‘things’. Considering how often Beatrice and Samuel asked him about Buck over the last few days, and now this latest invitation for him to join the dinner they had organised to have with their grandchildren, he did think that there was at least some substance to his suspicions. 

But even his fire family was agreeing that it was ‘weird’ and his suspicions would probably add even more outside pressure onto Buck regarding their relationship, which meant that Bobby was reluctant to share his thoughts aloud. 

Generally, the downside of having serious conversations in the firehouse was that an interruption of some description was inevitable. On this particular occasion, however, Bobby was grateful for that interruption coming in the form of Ravi shuffling towards them, his hair still ruffled from sleep. 

“Omelette?” he asked Ravi, switching the stove back on in anticipation of a positive response. 

“Yes please,” Ravi answered immediately. He eyed off the unopened energy drink in front of Chimney hopefully. “Are you going to drink that?”

“I’ll trade you for it if you make me a coffee,” Chim bargained. 

Ravi made a face and said, “I might as well get my own then…”

“Fine,” Chim sighed, handing the can over.

“I feel like I should be offended right now,” Buck complained, staring at Bobby, who shrugged guilelessly, pretending he didn’t know what Buck was talking about. “Why isn’t Ravi getting told off?”

“No one told you off,” Bobby pointed out, more focused on making Ravi’s omelette than he needed to be. 

“And also Ravi hasn’t gone into cardiac arrest in the last six months,” Chimney quipped dryly.

“Uh, for all the time I’ve spent in hospitals, I’m still pretty sure that I have never gone into cardiac arrest,” Ravi said, bemused by the banter he had inadvertently caused. 

Whatever protest Buck was about to make was interrupted by Eddie calling his name as he bound into the kitchen from the back stairs. 

He went straight for the coffee pot, returning the chorus of ‘good mornings’ before turning his attention back to Buck. “Carla is bringing Christopher by on their way to school,” he said, pouring the coffee into his favourite mug. He paused, staring confusedly at Chimney when he made a sad noise as Eddie went to put the pot away. 

“Everything alright?” Buck prompted, smugly taking a sip of his pilfered coffee.

“Yeah, he wants to show us the final version of his poster,” Eddie explained, shaking off the confusion. “Come down with me to check it out.”

It might have sounded like a question to most people. A few weeks ago, Bobby also would have heard it as a question. But after the recent glimpses he’d gotten into Buck’s dynamic with the Diazs, it suddenly seemed like more of a statement. 

A given, that of course Buck would come down and all that Eddie was doing was articulating what they both already knew was going to happen. 

Buck took a huge bite of his omelette before getting out of his seat. He started saying something about where Chris had finally found the information he needed about mummification and wondering whether he had solved his dilemma about making the pyramids three dimensional, because of course he knew exactly what the poster in question was. Eddie cut in with some wry comment about hoping it didn’t involve ‘even more glitter’, their voices fading as they made their way towards the main stairs together. 

Bobby observed the other firefighters seated around him as the moment unfolded. 

Ravi was happily digging into the omelette Bobby had just handed him. Chim was poking Hen to try and get her to return his coffee mug; she rolled her eyes but obliged.

There were no indications that any of them found what had just transpired to be unusual in any way. 

Which shouldn’t be a surprise; two weeks ago he also wouldn’t have found it strange.

Buck and Eddie were close and they shared a lot together. It made perfect sense that Eddie would want to show his son’s project off to his friend. 

It was Bobby’s shifted perspective which was making him see the interaction through a different lens.

“Has anyone noticed how involved Buck is with Christopher?” he found himself questioning, unable to constrain his curiosity over whether he really was the only one who had noticed. 

There was a feeling of relief that came when Chim straightened up, suddenly alert. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Buck and Eddie,” Hen said, puzzled. “They’re best friends, it’s what they do. Like me and Chimney.” She turned to Chim, seeking validation of her opinion. 

“Yeah,” Chim said, slightly hesitant. 

Hen raised her eyebrow in surprise. Bobby looked at him expectantly, silently urging him to continue. 

“Well, I’ve never gone to Ikea to buy Denny a bookcase,” Chim exclaimed, caving.

“Yes you have,” Hen rebutted, confused by the example. “Remember, when Denny decided his room should get upgraded because he hit double digits? I mean, it wasn’t a bookcase, but you helped me pick out a desk for him.” 

“‘Helped you pick it out’ being the key words there,” Chim said. “A few weeks ago, Buck went to Ikea with Maddie and picked up some furniture for Christopher. And Maddie said that he definitely didn’t send any pictures to Eddie to get his opinions or confirm that his pick was fine.” 

Hen blinked a few times, clearly surprised. “Maybe they already shortlisted the options online?” 

“Maybe,” Chimney said doubtfully. He turned to Bobby. “What made you ask?”

“I picked Chris up from school the other week,” Bobby explained, having a quick internal debate regarding exactly how much detail he should share about that experience. “The staff there all knew Buck pretty well. Apparently he does a lot of baking for the school fundraisers…”

“I mean, it’s no secret that Eddie isn’t the best cook,” Hen proffered slowly. Despite her apparent decision to be the one to supply potential excuses for their observations, she did seem disconcerted by the examples. 

“Neither am I, and Maddie isn’t exactly the best at baking either. That doesn’t mean that I’m about to ask you to bake for Jee-Yun’s kindergarten –”

“Didn’t you ask Bobby to make mini cupcakes for Jee’s class last month?” Hen interjected.

“ – and expect you to show up with the baking yourself,” Chimney continued relentlessly, staring at Hen. 

Definitely not often enough that the staff would start thinking of you as a stepparent, Bobby thought, carefully making sure not to share that part of his musings aloud. 

“Even the fact that he instantly knew exactly what Chris’ project was on seems a little unusual,” was what Bobby shared instead. It had taken him a while to build up his relationship with Harry enough that he could confidently spout out what the boy had for homework and what aspects of it he might be struggling with.

He and Athena had definitely been engaged, if not already married, by the time Bobby thought he could claim that sort of comfortable knowledge about what Harry was working on for school at any given time. 

“Alright, so Buck goes above and beyond for Christopher. It’s Buck, that’s not exactly unusual for him,” she argued.

“True,” Chimney conceded.

Hen nodded, satisfied that she’d made her point. And then her face dropped into a thoughtful frown, like a new idea had suddenly entered her head. Both Bobby and Chim noticed and they leaned forward in anticipation. 

“But…” Chimney prompted leadingly when she didn’t speak for a few moments.

“I just remembered – Christopher also goes above and beyond, which is probably a bit stranger than Buck doing it,” she admitted, chewing her lip in uncertainty. 

“What do you mean Chris goes ‘above and beyond’?” Bobby questioned, puzzled by the phrasing.

“When Buck was in his coma,” Hen started slowly, shooting Bobby an apologetic look for having to invoke that particular memory. 

Bobby was pretty sure he’d done a better job hiding his reaction than Chimney, who had visibly flinched, although that was exactly how he felt internally. 

“Chris forced Carla to bring him to the hospital even though Eddie told him he couldn’t come. And then Eddie and Carla concocted a whole plan to sneak him into the ICU so that he could talk to Buck.”

“I didn’t know that,” Bobby said, distracted from wallowing in those fears that surged through him at the memory of Buck’s coma. That must have happened during one of the periods that Athena or May had dragged him away from the hospital for a break.

It certainly added an interesting layer to the topic; Bobby couldn’t imagine Harry getting so stubborn or going so far for someone that wasn’t his sister or one of his parents or stepdads. 

(Or possibly his honorary stepbrother, his brain supplied unhelpfully.)

“It was like Eddie couldn’t bring himself to say no,” Hen said. A haunted look flickered over her face before she continued. “What he said to Buck…” She took a deep breath, smiling at them tightly. “Well, let’s just say it was very intense.”

They dropped into a sombre silence for a few long moments, each of them lost in how widely the impact of Buck’s near-death had been felt. 

Hoping that getting more opinions would help him make sense of it all, and also that it would help lighten the mood again, Bobby turned to Ravi, who had been staying quiet through all of their talking. “What do you think?”

“I mean, up until last year I thought they were divorced co-parents,” Ravi said, putting up his hands. “So I don’t know if my opinion counts for much.” 

Well. 

Bobby hadn’t expected his questioning to result in him being blind-sided quite like that.

At least Ravi’s answer certainly achieved his secondary purpose of lightening the mood. 

“You thought – you what?” Hen said, incredulous. 

“How?” Chim asked, mouth open like he wanted to badger Ravi with more questions.

Ravi shrugged. “Him and Eddie are always talking about Christopher’s schedule, and who’s taking him where, and they talk about his medical appointments together –” 

Did they? Bobby had never noticed that habit before – although now that it had been pointed out he had a vague recollection of Buck researching orthodontic treatments and specialists because Eddie had been moaning about how difficult Chris was being about his braces.

And actually, it was true that Buck had taken Chris to quite a few PT appointments while Eddie had been struggling after his breakdown. 

Thinking about it in hindsight, it made sense that this was a continuation of what he was probably doing while supporting Eddie’s recovery after the sniper incident. Bobby hadn’t been at the station since he was also recovering from his own bullet wound, so he’d never had reason to think about it until now, but it would have been right around the time that Ravi had joined their shift full-time. He had worked closely with Buck during those months so it was logical that it was something he would have picked up on. 

“And in general Buck and Eddie always share everything,” Ravi continued. He was speaking in a rush, like he had been holding all of this in and was taking advantage of the opportunity to finally let it all loose. “They use the same locker and they have each other’s car keys and they go out for breakfast even though they’ve just done a twenty-four shift together. Eddie gave me a whole speech about how I had to have Buck’s back and keep him safe when I was partnered with him while he was off recovering.”

Bobby hoped that his expression wasn’t quite as stupefied as Hen and Chimney’s as they all stared at Ravi while he kept rattling off examples which had somehow become about Buck and Eddie rather than Buck and Christopher. 

“Honestly, at first I thought they were married,” Ravi shared with a self-deprecating laugh, mercifully finishing his extensive list. “It was only when I found out that Buck was dating Taylor that I started thinking that they must be a really well-adjusted divorced couple instead.”

“And what, you thought they were divorced until you joined our shift full time last year?” Chim asked, stunned, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was saying. 

“Oh no,” Ravi laughed. They didn’t have enough time to get confused or relax at that answer. “I only worked it out after Eddie took his break from the 118 last year.” 

“Huh?” Hen said faintly. “But – how –”

“Buck was stressing about being able to see Chris and obviously that wouldn’t have been a concern if they had split custody like I thought they did,” Ravi explained, shrugging again. His expression grew thoughtful, and he added, “You know, considering they aren’t divorced, I have no idea what was up with the way Eddie was when Ana and Buck were in the same room. Or his attitude towards Taylor.” 

“He didn’t think Taylor was good enough for Buck,” Bobby said. He was completely preoccupied by the many thoughts whirring around his brain but he did also want to be fair towards Eddie. 

“You didn’t think Taylor was good enough for Buck and you managed not to be bitchy about it,” Ravi pointed out.

“I didn’t –” 

“We all knew you hated her, Cap,” Hen dismissed impatiently. “What do you mean by Eddie’s reaction when Buck and Ana were in the same room? I don’t think I ever saw all three of them together.”

“I don’t know how to put it into words but the vibe was just really, really awkward,” Ravi explained, a far-away look in his eyes. “Chris was there as well, and Buck came over to say hi. Eddie looked so happy to see them so happy and then Ana spoke up and it was like she was intruding on their moment rather than being a part of it, you know?” 

His response was silence, which at least made Bobby feel better that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t ‘know’. 

“So, hang on,” Hen said finally, turning to where they could see Buck and Eddie coming back up the stairs. 

Did they always walk so closely together, with no personal space, their shoulders bumping like that?

“What are we saying about Buck and Eddie then? Or Buck’s relationship with Christopher?” 

None of them seemed to have an answer to that question either.

Chapter Text

Bobby couldn’t say that he was thrilled at the prospect of spending the evening on a double date with his in-laws. Even the stunning image of his wife in her new sky blue dress was failing to inspire much enthusiasm since he knew he had a long few hours ahead of him before he could even try enticing her out of it. 

“Wow, that dress is gorgeous, Mom,” May said admiringly. She was curled up on the sofa next to her grandparents, her sweatpants and sweater proving that her plans for the night were very different to theirs. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” Samuel concurred. 

“And you scrub up nicely too, Bobby,” May added cheekily, grinning at him.

“The two of you look very good together,” Beatrice said approvingly. 

He thanked her, thinking to himself wryly that it was the closest thing to a compliment that she’d given him since arriving in Los Angeles and it was hardly even about him. 

“We should head off in a minute if we want to make our reservation on time,” Athena said, glancing at the wall clock above the fireplace. “Are you sure you and Harry don’t need anything else, May?” 

“Nope. And Buck will be here any minute even if we did,” May said cheerfully. 

“You invited Buck over?” Bobby said, resigned and a little bit amused. He would have assumed that Buck was busy with Natalia on a Friday night but of course May reached out to ask anyway. 

She really had gotten all of her mother’s determination and stubborn drive not to let something go once she’d decided on a course of action. 

“Yep, he said he would teach me how to make some cocktails.” She lifted the small book that was leaning on the arm of the sofa, showing them ‘The little black book of classic cocktails.’ The small post-it notes that she used to mark up important passages in her college textbooks stuck out between some of the pages.

That probably did explain why she decided to invite Buck over on a night that they weren’t home, Bobby reflected. Other than her actual birthday party, May had followed her mother’s example and didn’t really drink spirits or even talk about them all that much in his presence.  

Bobby had told her on the leadup to her twenty-first birthday that he genuinely didn’t mind if she drank in front of him. The confirmation that she had still adjusted her behaviour in deference to his sobriety made the guilt rise up. He battled it down, forcing himself to focus instead on his appreciation of the care and thought behind the gesture. 

“That’s good that you’ve invited him. I’m sure it will be a lovely way to spend the night,” Beatrice said approvingly. She stood from her spot, offering her arm to Samuel for assistance. They were going to a restaurant that offered a valet option and he had decided that the short walk between the house and the car and then the car and the restaurant didn’t warrant dealing with his wheelchair. 

“Just make sure Harry doesn’t go sneaking any sips,” Athena warned, sending a stern look towards the boy. 

Harry paused the video game he’d been playing, coming over so that he could say goodbye properly. “I would never,” he proclaimed innocently. 

“Of course my grandbaby wouldn’t do such a thing,” Beatrice agreed strongly, pulling Harry into a tight hug once he’d finished with Bobby and Athena. 

“Mm-hmm,” Athena hummed dubiously, clearly not sharing that level of faith.

The doorbell rang as they were making their last preparations to leave. Bobby was holding out Athena’s jacket for her and Beatrice was double checking that she had everything in her handbag, so May ducked around them to open the door. 

Buck descended the stairs carefully, part of his vision obstructed by the large cardboard box he was holding with both hands. There was also a cloth shopping tote filled with bottles and some other supplies straining against his shoulder. 

Christopher was following behind him. 

Which, at this point, wasn’t even all that surprising to Bobby.

If anything, the idea that it had ever been a surprise filled him with a mixture of regret and sadness,  because he felt like he should have been more aware of how tightly entwined Buck and Eddie’s (and Christopher’s) lives appeared to be. 

“Oh, this must be… Christopher, right?” Beatrice asked, needing a moment to recall the name. She bent down slightly to be closer to his level. 

“Yep – say hello to Mr and Mrs Carter, Chris,” Buck directed.

Athena twisted around so that she could properly exchange a weighted glance with Bobby at the distinctly parental instruction.

“Absolutely not,” Beatrice insisted immediately. “It’s Beatrice and Samuel, Christopher.” She turned to Buck with a chastising look. “And you know very well we said the same thing to you, young man. None of this Mr and Mrs, I won’t have it.” 

“Yes, ma – Beatrice,” Buck said, cowed by the scolding, an image that appeared to greatly amuse May, Harry, and Chris. 

Beatrice nodded in satisfaction, turning back to Christopher. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, baby.”

Chris returned the sentiment with his trademark sunny demeanour. As soon as the greetings were done, Harry pulled him away, excitedly chattering about the video game that they’d apparently been texting about during the day. 

“You should have brought Eddie along if you were coming with Christopher anyway,” Athena said, watching the boys settle in front of the television. 

“Uh, Eddie is doing a favour for Tia Pepa, so it was only going to be the two of us tonight anyway.” Buck nodded towards Chris meaningfully to indicate that he didn’t want to say more in front of him.

“Gotcha,” Bobby said, recalling the conversations from their shift yesterday. Eddie had spent a good chunk of time talking about how his aunt was still trying to get him to ‘put himself out there’, although she had apparently gotten less pushy after that first disastrous set-up. He must be on a blind date tonight. 

Bobby wondered how she would react to Eddie and Buck’s closeness if that blind date resulted in a relationship. Taylor hadn’t been Eddie’s biggest fan, or vice versa, if he recalled correctly. At the time, he had assumed it was because Eddie struggled to suppress his distaste over her relentless pursuit of the truth like the rest of them did and she didn’t appreciate his judgement. 

After that revealing conversation with his crew, he’d found himself considering whether Buck’s pivotal role in the Diaz family and how heavily he featured in their daily life had contributed to their acrimonious relationship. 

“So what you’re saying is, I saved you from a lonely night,” May said smugly. She pointed the comment at Bobby, strangely intent, like she was trying to pass on a silent message although Bobby had no idea what it might be. 

“Well, you definitely saved Chris from a night working on his book report,” Buck laughed. He shifted the box in his arms, the bottles clinking at the movement. 

“You should go put that down, it looks heavy,” Beatrice fussed, patting Buck’s shoulder. 

“We should get started,” May said, grabbing her book from the couch and waving it at Buck. “I’ve already got a list of what I want to try making. Can we start with a Daiquiri?” 

“At least we’re starting easy,” Buck replied before turning his charming smile to the rest of them. “Hope you all have a lovely night! You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, Buckaroo,” Athena said, patting his cheek affectionately. 

“Enjoy the night, kids,” Samuel said, sweeping his gaze across from Buck and May and then over to Chris and Harry.

Bobby had to suppress a smile at Buck’s mildly offended confusion at being lumped in with the ‘kids’.

“And be careful those two don’t try to sample any of the cocktails,” Athena warned Buck, pointing at the boys who were already embroiled in their video game. 

“No problems there, I brought an extra shaker to make them some mocktails,” Buck said over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen. 

“What kind of mocktail?” Harry asked, his curiosity piqued enough that he paused the game. 

“He makes a really good bubbly one,” Christopher told him enthusiastically. “Buck, can you make us one of those?” 

“Alright, so we’re starting with a Daiquiri and a mock Peach Bellini.”

With the pleasant stream of voices talking about all the different supplies being unpacked in the background, the four of them finally made their way out the door a good ten minutes after they were supposed to leave. 

“Buck really is very good with children,” Beatrice commented, settling into the backseat of Bobby’s truck. 

Athena, who was sitting next to her so that Samuel could have the front passenger seat, laughed. “Most of the time,” she responded, and then launched into the story of Buck accidentally telling a group of overly hyper and rambunctious children that Santa didn’t exist. 

Her next anecdote stayed on the Christmas theme, telling her parents about Buck secretly teaming up with May and Harry to ‘accidentally’ shower Bobby and Athena with champagne on that Christmas Day they’d announced their engagement to friends and family. 

“I swear he only brought in the one bottle,” Athena added over everyone’s laughter. “To this day, I have no idea where he got the rest of it!”

“I think he might have teamed up with Hen and Karen,” Bobby said, smiling softly at the memory. That day had felt like something out of a dream, and sometimes it still did. 

Because while he had never imagined having another chance at love, the notion that he might have a family to celebrate such a partnership, children who would get excited about it, had been even more unfathomable. 

It still felt too good to be true sometimes.

“I’m sure it must have been a relief for you both that the three of them were so excited for your wedding,” Beatrice said idly.

It was comments like that which were making it extremely difficult for Bobby to maintain his plausible deniability that he wasn’t completely certain why Beatrice and Samuel were so insistent on keeping Buck involved in many of their plans with the kids. 

“And it’s nice that he became so close with May and Harry, considering the age gap,” she continued.

“Well, we definitely can’t take any credit for that,” Athena said, which did not even attempt to correct the misunderstanding underpinning the statement. 

Not that Bobby could blame her for it, since it wasn’t like he was chomping at the bit to explain the entire complicated situation. 

In his defence, though, they were his in-laws. It was an entirely different dynamic. 

“I’m still amazed that we didn’t manage to meet him – and his family – the last time we were here,” Samuel mused.

It was the perfect opening to correct any misconceptions, especially since Eddie and Christopher really didn’t need to be dragged into this whole mess. 

“Things were a bit complicated at the time,” Athena said, catching Bobby’s eyes in the rearview mirror as he went to change lanes so he could merge back onto the main road. 

“What could have possibly been happening to make things that complicated?” Beatrice pressed, far more exasperated than Bobby thought Athena’s answer warranted.

“Buck was recovering from a very bad injury,” Athena explained succinctly.

“He nearly died,” Bobby added emphatically, to make sure the gravity of the situation came across. “He came so close to –” 

A surge of grief cut him off from finishing the sentence. The idea of Buck dying in his arms was even more real to him than it had ever been, now that he knew exactly what it felt like to cradle Buck’s limp, lifeless body in his arms.

“Bobby got quite protective,” Athena continued carefully, masking her concern well. 

“I was trying to keep him safe.” 

“But Buck chafed at that protectiveness,” Athena finished simply, her gaze flickering back to her mother.

“Ah. That’s a feeling I know well,” Beatrice said, looking at Bobby sympathetically for perhaps the first time ever. “It’s difficult when you feel like you know best for your child, isn’t it? And all you want is to protect them from the cruelties of the world…”

“But you need to acknowledge that your job is to provide your child with the tools they need to navigate the world, not do it for them,” Samuel said knowingly, the words sounding well-rehearsed.

Wait – 

Were they implying that there were similarities between how he had managed Buck in the aftermath of the embolism and how Beatrice had managed Athena after Emmett’s death?

That was – it was a far-fetched comparison that had only been made because Beatrice was confused about his and Buck’s relationship.

He was Buck’s captain, he hadn’t raised Buck, it was an incredibly different situation. 

For some reason, his brain’s rationalisation was failing to alleviate the sudden turmoil he was experiencing. 

(Beatrice cornered him at the bar of the restaurant later, using the pretence of changing her mind about what drink she wanted.

“Take my advice, from the mistakes I made with Athena,” she said seriously, keeping her voice low to maintain their privacy. “Make sure that boy knows you’re proud of him and love him no matter what he does, whether you agree or disagree that it’s the right thing.”

She looked over at Athena, resplendent in the candlelight, laughing at something Samuel must have said.

“You think they should know, because it’s so obvious to you, but it took me a long time to realise that even obvious things sometimes need to be said aloud.”)

Eddie’s hands had been itching to check his phone since it vibrated to notify that he had received a text. Buck didn’t usually bother to send updates when he knew Eddie was on a date, saving any pictures or anecdotes for afterwards since they would generally share a beer once Eddie was home and Christopher had gone to sleep. 

He had managed to look at the notification briefly, apologising to Rosa with the excuse that he had to make sure everything was alright with his kid. She had her own daughter that was only a year younger than Christopher, so she was perfectly gracious about it. 

“It’s hard to trust someone else to look after them, especially after you’ve been burned by their other parent,” she’d said empathetically.

The implication against Shannon stirred some irritation in his gut and made him suspicious about exactly how much his aunt had told Rosa’s mother about him. Unfortunately, a busy tapas bar was hardly the venue to go into that. “I’m pretty lucky with Buck,” he’d said evenly instead, taking a look at the message preview. 

We’re having a very sophisticated night. There was a small icon at the end of the preview which told him that a picture had also been sent. 

What did that mean? Had they decided to dress up and do something fancy? The impression he’d gotten from Buck was that their night was going to be very low key. Christopher had said that he and Harry were planning on trying to get to the next level of the multi-player game they were both currently playing, which also didn’t seem to match with the idea of sophistication. 

“Oh?” Rosa prompted, eyes narrowed slightly. 

Unable to justify clicking into the message while she was staring at him and there was nothing to warrant it, he reluctantly put his phone back down.

“Yeah, Buck is great with Christopher,” Eddie told her. “They love doing stuff together – cooking, zoo trips, Lego, video games, you name it.” 

“I have a friend like that as well,” Rosa shared, toying with her wine glass. “Spoils my Emilia to no end. I wish I could ask her to babysit more often, but it’s too difficult to get her back into her routine after she’s been allowed to do whatever she wants. Isn’t it the worst experience trying to get them to get their homework done after they’ve spent the day having heaps of fun and sugar?” 

She was obviously expecting commiseration because she looked taken aback when he laughed and shrugged instead. “Thankfully, Buck usually sticks around to help with that.” 

“He helps get your son settled to do homework after they’ve had a day out?” she clarified slowly, staring at him strangely. 

Eddie nodded, not really sure why she was making it sound like it was so weird. Sure, maybe most people would only want to do the fun part of hanging out with their friend’s kid. But he and Buck were closer than most friends. Buck was – his brain was refusing to let him use the term brother because, well, because that term resonated more in relation to his friendship with Chim which was different to what he shared with Buck. And also, brother would imply that Buck was Christopher’s uncle which was a woeful underrepresentation of the role Buck played in his child’s life. 

Buck was simply… their Buck and he was an integral member of their family. 

“And your son doesn’t mind that?”

“I mean, it’s not like Chris isn’t used to doing his homework around Buck,” Eddie reasoned, wondering if that was where her confusion was coming from since it sounded like her friend was never around for the more practical aspects of child rearing. “Sometimes we’ll hang out at ours or at Buck’s place and Chris has homework he needs to get done while we deal with chores or dinner. And obviously we help him out with it if it’s something complicated.” 

“Right,” Rosa said. She shook her head slightly, taking a sip of her wine before focusing back on him. “What subjects does Christopher struggle with? Emilia absolutely hates English. I cannot tell you the number of books I’ve tried borrowing and buying to find something that she might be willing to read without a battle.” 

“Chris is the opposite,” Eddie said, chuckling. “He loves English – Buck and I can’t keep up with how quickly he gets through books! Math is our struggle, although it’s a little easier now that Buck is suddenly good at it.”

Rosa took another, longer sip of her wine. “Suddenly?” 

The image of Buck dangling on the 118’s ladder truck, completely unresponsive, flashed through his mind and he bitterly regretted mentioning Buck’s weird new math powers. 

“It’s a long story,” he said tightly. 

There was silence at their table for several long, awkward moments as Rosa waited for him to elaborate. 

“Emilia loves math,” Rosa finally said when she realised he wasn’t going to say anything about his strange reaction. “It’s her favourite subject.” 

“Guess they’re opposites,” Eddie commented, forcing himself to chuckle again even though the atmosphere around their table had gotten incredibly tense and awkward. 

Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their tapas, providing them with a distraction. He set out the plates in the middle of their table to make them easy to share. Eddie’s mouth was watering at the smell wafting off the poached chorizo that was placed in front of him. 

“Can I grab another glass of chardonnay please?” Rosa requested, handing the waiter her empty glass. 

“Of course. And for you, sir?” 

As tempting as it was to get another drink to help offset the awkwardness, Eddie excused himself and asked the waiter to replenish their water instead. He’d only had the one beer so far, but he knew that Buck was over at the Grant-Nashes because May had asked him to teach her how to make cocktails and he was hoping that maybe Buck would bring some home with him at the end of the night. 

One of Buck’s bramble cocktails was absolutely worth saving himself for. It wasn’t one that Buck made often since he wasn’t a fan of blackberries and rarely had them available but Eddie was hoping that he would have picked some up for this whole cocktail-making adventure. 

Being able to discuss the food they were trying helped to ease their conversation into something less stilted and they shifted through various topics while they ate. The closest they got to attaining an easy back and forth was when they were trying the empanadillas and started debating the best empanada filling. They both agreed that their respective Abuela’s deserved to share the top spot and Eddie attempted to put up an impassioned argument that Buck deserved second place since he’d been taught by his Abuela but even that back-and-forth ultimately descended into another elongated silence. 

The fact that talking about their children didn’t even seem to be a safe topic was what really got to Eddie; he had thought that would be the main benefit of going on a date with a fellow single parent. He tried telling one of his favourite stories – the first time he and Buck had taken Christopher skateboarding on the modified board Buck made for him – but Rosa didn’t seem all that interested or impressed.

Eddie wondered whether it would be rude to suggest getting the bill rather than dessert once they were done with their meal. Despite Pepa’s best intentions, this venture was clearly yet another failure. Besides, he was still insatiably curious about what Buck and Christopher were up to and he wouldn’t mind joining them before it got too late.

He had resigned himself to suffering through the date a little longer, since he figured it would be too rude to cut it short, when Rosa made the suggestion herself. 

“Do you want to ask for it when the waiter comes back? I’m going to run to the ladies,” she said, standing from the table.

“Sure,” Eddie said, hoping his gratitude wasn’t too obvious.

As soon as she was out of sight, he flipped his phone over to finally, finally take a proper look at the full set of messages that Buck had sent. 

The picture showed all four of them posing with their own cocktail or mocktail. None of them were dressed up like he’d initially thought the message implied, but the way they had added a few accessories and arranged themselves made them look like they were acting out a scene in a noir or spy film.

It was definitely intentional; Buck was holding a classic martini which was a drink that Eddie knew he hated so he must have made it specifically to capture the vibe. Harry had even managed to hunt down a couple of fedoras for him and Christopher to wear and May had thrown a feather boa over her hoodie. 

Underneath the picture was an additional message from Buck: Sorry for the interruption, May sent it around to her friends and we thought you’d like it too. Hope the date is going well!

Eddie was grinning as he typed his response.

I love it! Looks like you guys had a great night.

Way better than mine. Heading out in a minute.

Did you make a bramble? 🥺

He flagged down the waiter while he waited for Buck to reply. He could see Rosa walking back to the table when his phone vibrated but she was far enough away that he decided he could get away with taking a quick look.

Haha I will do that now 

We’ll start making a move as well. Meet you at home?

He hastily sent a thumbs up and a heart, setting his phone down at exactly the same moment Rosa took her seat. “The bill should be here in a minute.”

“Cool.” 

She leaned back, looking at him consideringly like she was trying to work something out. Eddie searched his mind for something to say so that they didn’t finish the night in awkward silence.

Eddie was on the verge of asking her how long it would take her to get home, which he knew was scraping the bottom of the conversation barrel, when Rosa spoke up suddenly. 

“Can I give you a bit of advice?” 

“Uh –” 

She barreled ahead, ignoring his surprise. “You should ask whoever you were just messaging out on a date. Because the only other time I’ve seen you smile like that and look like that is when you’re talking about your son. It’s pretty obvious that whoever it is means something to you.”

“Oh, no, uh, it’s – I was texting Buck,” Eddie stuttered, perplexed and taken aback.

“Of course you were,” she muttered, snatching up the bill as soon as the waiter placed it on the table. 

“Now I feel like I need to try one of your cocktails,” Natalia laughed. “I still can’t believe you made seventeen of them!” 

“May really wanted to try making a bunch of different kinds,” Buck replied, also laughing. He had his arm thrown over her shoulders as they meandered down the well-lit pathway next to the beach, heading in the general direction that their cars were parked. There were quite a few people milling around but the crowd wasn’t so big that they had to worry about their slow pace blocking anyone. 

Natalia was holding a paper cup with two scoops of ice-cream which she was slowly picking at with a small wooden spoon, occasionally sharing a bit with Buck. 

“It was really nice of you to do that for your boss’ stepdaughter,” she said, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m sure your boss – Bobby, right? – really appreciated you humouring her.” 

“I wasn’t humouring her,” Buck objected, slightly taken aback at that characterisation of the evening he’d spent with May. 

Humouring implied that it was a chore, which it definitely wasn’t. May was a lot of fun to hang out with and he greatly admired her self-assuredness, confidence, and stubborn drive even though those were the traits which had led her to orchestrate all these situations which attempted to force him into having to confront what his role in Bobby’s life really was. 

And besides that, he had also enjoyed getting to flex his old mixology skills that he rarely used anymore.

Bartending and mixing cocktails had been one of the first things that made him think he might actually be able to find a career path that made him happy. There were plenty of downsides to bartending, of course, but simultaneously there was something so inherently satisfying in the process of crafting the perfect drink and watching the recipient’s face when it was exactly what they wanted or seeing the awe on people’s faces if it was a particularly complex and beautiful drink. 

Back then, Buck had never thought of himself as creative or as being capable of bringing about such joy.

Of course, he now knew that firefighting was where his true passion was and he had absolutely zero regrets about abandoning mixology for the LAFD, but it was surprisingly nice to revisit that old hobby and remember how much fun he used to have with it.  

“You know what I mean,” Natalia said. A few drops of melted ice cream spattered onto the concrete as she waved her arm dismissively. 

Buck let it go, since her misconception was probably mostly his fault and he wasn’t sure how to correct it. Natalia had seemed weirded out that he was going to be spending his evening with a twenty-one year old woman after he told her about May wanting to experiment with making and trying cocktails now that she was of legal drinking age. 

She had asked how he knew May and Buck hadn’t known how to explain the sibling-style relationship that they had been cultivating recently without also having to share details about the close paternal bond he felt like he had with Bobby. Maddie was the only person who he’d spoken about it with in depth and he simply wasn’t ready to broach that subject with Natalia when talking about it made him feel so vulnerable. 

So instead he answered her query by using the more generalised connection they had through Bobby – which wasn’t even a lie, he had in fact met May when Bobby and Athena were dating. 

It was still niggling at him though: he had noticed that she had a tendency to downplay the importance of the found family relationships he shared with his team and this seemed yet another example of that same trend. 

Oblivious to his mild annoyance, Natalia fed him another bite of the salted caramel ice-cream, leaning back to look him in the eye. “So what cocktail would you make for me?” 

“Giving me the tough questions,” Buck joked, squeezing her shoulders lightly to emphasise that he was kidding. He knew Natalia generally wasn’t a fan of cocktails at all – they’d gone to a bar on one of their early dates and she’d said that they were too complicated and over the top and she preferred a simple glass of wine or beer. 

“You said you knew exactly the kind that May and her mom would like, so now I’m curious what you think I’d like,” she claimed, looking at him expectantly. 

He mulled over the question, making an exaggerated humming sound while they walked. Picking the right cocktail for a customer was a skill he’d prided himself on back during his bartending days and he liked to think that it hadn’t been tarnished much despite lack of use. 

Eddie had also always insisted he hated cocktails. Buck had tried and failed to get him to try one many times during their first year of friendship. It was only when they went out together for the first time after the lawsuit debacle that Eddie finally agreed to it. He had been completely won over by the dry and fruity cocktails that Buck recommended and had softened his stance towards cocktails considerably since then, even though beer was still his first choice. 

Natalia’s sweet tooth was much stronger than Eddie’s, so he couldn’t suggest those same cocktails for her. Her tastes would also be different from Athena’s, whose drink of choice was usually robust red wines which meant his cocktails for her had more of a bitter edge. She was probably closest to May’s tastes, which veered sweeter. 

“Either a Pina Colada or a Mojito,” he decided.

“Really?” Natalia asked, nose wrinkled. “Doesn’t a Mojito have mint in it? I hate mint.” 

Buck blinked down at her, his stomach twisting at missing the mark so badly. “But – you had that little chocolate they gave us at the restaurant the other night… didn’t that have mint?” 

“Mint in chocolate does not count,” Natalia said vehemently, shaking her head when Buck gave her a disbelieving look. “It doesn’t. It’s subtle in chocolate, it’s way too overpowering in literally everything else.”

“How do you brush your teeth?” he asked, surprised at how strong her dislike of the flavour seemed to be. 

“By hunting down the very rare brands that make non-minty toothpastes,” Natalia said, shrugging. 

“Alright, so not a Mojito then,” Buck conceded. “I’m still sticking with Pina Colada though.” He just hoped she didn’t also have a secret aversion to coconut. 

“What’s in that one?”

Before he could answer, his name rang out loudly from somewhere behind them. Buck’s arm slipped from her shoulders as they both turned to see where the voice had come from. Although the area was well lit, it was still difficult to make out faces and it wasn’t until his name was called out again that he was able to locate the voice and see that it was Beatrice calling and waving at him. She and Samuel were sitting in the outdoor dining area of a dessert bar, near the barrier to the rest of the street. 

“I should go say hello – do you mind?” Buck said, waving back at the pair briefly to acknowledge that he could see them. 

Natalia shook her head. She linked her arm through his elbow to walk over with him, which was unexpected but Buck supposed it was fair enough that she didn’t really want to be abandoned on the side of the road while he had a brief chat. 

“Who are they?” she whispered to him, face turned inwards to ensure they wouldn’t be able to see her ask. 

“Beatrice and Samuel – Athena’s parents,” Buck replied quietly, adding, “May’s grandparents,” when she still looked confused. 

“Wait – so they’re your boss’s in-laws?” she asked, still looking just as confused. “I’m surprised they recognised you… and that they would interrupt you on a date. Or interrupt their own date, for that matter.”

“Florida hospitality,” Buck suggested, having to suppress a wince at the incredibly weak excuse. But given he hadn’t given her the foundational information about his relationship with Bobby and May, he definitely couldn’t properly explain that Athena’s parents suddenly seemed to be treating him like an additional grandchild. 

Hell, he had only had the revelation about that being the motive behind their behaviour towards him very recently and he still wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that apparently no-one at the Grant-Nash household had said anything to them about it.

Beatrice was standing right next to the barrier once they reached them and Buck leaned over to give her a light kiss on the cheek and then turned to Samuel to shake his hand. 

“I see you also decided this was a good place for a nice date and dessert,” Buck said, returning to his position next to Natalia, his arm around her waist. 

“Bobby recommended it. He said the key lime pie was incredible and he was absolutely right,” Samuel said, tapping his plate which only had crumbs left on it. 

“The cocktails are definitely not as good as the ones you and May managed to concoct the other night though,” Beatrice added warmly. “You’ll have to come over again so we can watch you make them and get the full experience before we head back to Florida.”

Natalia made a small, strange noise in the back of her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, we’re so rude,” Beatrice said, chagrined. “It’s lovely to meet you, dear – you must be Eddie.” 

Every single thought dropped out of Buck’s brain, leaving it totally and utterly blank.

“Is that short for Edith?” Samuel asked curiously. When the silence stretched a little too long to be comfortable, he chuckled awkwardly and added, “It’s probably not the done thing to ask that kind of thing nowadays, is it?” 

“My name is Natalia,” Natalia said. 

“Eddie is short for Edmundo,” Buck supplied helpfully, hoping that acting like the mistake was normal and nothing worth commenting on would help dispel the awkwardness.

Judging by how stiff Natalia’s body had gotten against him, he didn’t think he had succeeded. 

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice said, more puzzled than apologetic, a perception that wasn’t helped by the way she barely looked at Natalia before focusing back on Buck. “Eddie is Christopher’s other parent, right?” 

Buck almost felt like he was back in his damned coma dream, with everything spiralling out in strange and unexpected ways. He was also fairly certain that he had walked through literal fires less stressed than he was right now.

“Eddie is Christopher’s dad, yep,” he said, desperately hoping that they wouldn’t ask anymore follow-up questions. 

“So the two of you are –” 

The gratitude that suffused through Buck when Samuel interrupted his wife could not be adequately described through mere words. 

“It’s probably too complicated to go into,” he said delicately, smiling at Buck and Natalia in apology. 

Beatrice sighed but acquiesced and didn’t finish the rest of her question. “It was nice to run into you both – and to meet you, Natalia.”

“You as well,” Natalia said, her smile tense. Her ice cream cup was almost fully folded in on itself from being gripped so tightly. 

“Have a lovely night,” Buck said, hoping he didn’t sound nearly as awkward as he felt. 

Beatrice and Samuel both echoed the sentiment, Beatrice adding in a reminder to Buck that he was expected for dinner at the Grant-Nashes on Wednesday so that he could try her famous brisket, because the universe apparently really needed to hammer Natalia with the fact that she was not aware of the extent to which he was involved in their family’s life. 

Buck and Natalia returned to the path towards their cars, the energy between them decidedly more awkward and uneasy.  

The house was quiet. 

Once upon a time, Eddie had craved having a night that was this peaceful and quiet. He adored his son, and he absolutely loved spending time with Chris, but the realities of single parenting were still sometimes draining and it was on those occasions that he would dream of the luxury of having a night to himself. 

But now that Christopher was asserting his need for independence, he had no idea what to do with the abundance of alone time he was getting. He was feeling particularly wired tonight and he had no idea how to expend that frenetic energy.  

In the beginning, he had played a lot of video games which was a hobby he had mostly given up on once his parenting journey started. But, as it turned out, gaming alone didn’t keep him captivated for days and weeks on end like it had done when he was a teenager. 

Reading caused its own type of struggle when he tried that; he had never been the most prolific of readers anyway but after years of only reading children’s books or young adult fiction alongside his son he felt completely clueless about what kinds of books might actually align to his tastes. Buck had tried to help him with that but Buck chose his books to feed his vociferous curiosity whereas Eddie felt like the point of reading was to escape reality not learn more about it.  

Then there were the dates he’d started trying to organise at Tia Pepa’s encouragement. Unfortunately, the attempt to even find someone he could ask out ended in complete disaster – his poor hand still had a mark from that lady’s damn dog – and anytime he agreed to a blind date organised by his aunt he ended up confused and wary which made him even more reluctant to put himself out there. 

Of course, he had also taken advantage of the extra time to hang out with his partner. If anything had succeeded at making him recognise that Chris growing up was not the end of the world it was those nights chilling on Buck’s balcony with a couple of burgers and a few beers while the sun set around them. 

The lightning strike granted him a reprieve from being home alone, since both Eddie and Christopher wanted to stay within close physical proximity to Buck as much as possible during the aftermath of his hospitalisation and recovery.

There had been something tranquil and inherently settling about those weeks where it felt like he was always with his boys, the three of them taking advantage of every possible moment available to spend time together.

(The terrifying memories of Buck dangling off that ladder and of him lying impossibly still on that hospital bed was not a price that Eddie had been willing to pay for it but it wasn’t like he’d been given a choice in the matter anyway.)

Christopher bounced back from the experience much quicker than Eddie, and resumed his usual activities while Eddie was still trying to pretend that he wasn’t counting Buck’s respiratory rate when he was close enough. At least Chris’ absence meant that Eddie had a ready excuse to drag Buck to his house or to go to the loft so that he could indulge his subtly protective hovering. 

But the weeks wore on: Buck started dating Natalia not long after returning to work and then Eddie also returned to the dating scene. Between that and May’s newfound determination to strengthen and solidify Buck’s role in the Grant-Nash family, they no longer had the opportunity to hang out quite as often. 

Although – he had noticed in his earlier doomscrolling through instagram that May was at a friend’s party tonight. And it had come up during their shift yesterday that Buck wasn’t planning on seeing Natalia again until Wednesday…

He had also complained about having a disagreement with her – not that he’d been willing to share the details – so it should be a safe bet to assume that they wouldn’t have made any last minute plans.

All of which meant that Buck should be free tonight. 

Just in case, Eddie sent him a text message to confirm it. However, he was sure enough of the answer that he had already grabbed a jacket and was tying his shoelaces when Buck’s reply came through.

Free as a bird. I’ll head over?

Nah, I’ll come to you, Eddie texted back quickly. He hesitated before he could lock his phone, his thumbs hovering over the virtual keyboard. 

They could just hang out at the loft. It was familiar and comfortable – well, comfortable except for the heinous guilt couch that Margaret Buckley had picked out. 

As tempting as it was to go over and ‘accidentally’ drop a plate of food onto the couch (there was an Indian place nearby which made an excellent Chicken Korma that Eddie had already decided was fit for the job), perhaps a change of scenery would work better. 

Something other than a cemetery since he didn’t particularly want to repeat that experience ever again. 

Although he did have to admit that Buck had revealed more about his state of mind there than Eddie thought he intended or was willing to. It had also caused Eddie more distress than he knew Buck would ever mean to, but neither of them had been in the right headspace to delve into it at the time. 

We’ll get fish and chips at the beach, he typed out before he changed his mind. I’ll drive. Take a jacket. 

His phone buzzed again after he locked his door. Eddie checked the message, his heart beating a little too strongly with the worry that Buck might say something about him dictating their plans without any warning. 

The reply to the first message was only a thumbs up. In response to the second, he’d written Is your cell possessed with the spirit of Bobby, Mr Protective? 🤨

Eddie snorted, not sure why he’d been worried at all. Of course his Buck would be as easy going as ever. He placed his phone on the passenger seat without bothering to send another response, focused on getting to the loft and working out where they could get some decent fish and chips that wouldn’t be far from a beach where they might be afforded some measure of privacy. 

(The idea that he was sort of taking Rosa’s advice floated in the back of his mind. 

But, well, she’d been partially right, spending time with Buck did make him happier than almost anything else. It didn’t have to be a date for that to be true.)

“Let me say, this completely proves my point that you have zero game,” Buck said amusedly, shaking his head in disbelief at Eddie’s more fulsome retelling of his latest date. He hadn’t had time to get much out of Eddie after getting home from Bobby and Athena’s with Christopher and Eddie had not been this forthcoming when he was telling the story to the whole team. 

Eddie threw one of his chips at Buck in protest. It bounced off him and he fumbled to try and catch it but it fell into the sand. 

“Throw it to the seagulls,” Eddie suggested, tilting his head towards the large flock of birds near the water’s edge. 

“You can’t give seagulls chips,” Buck said, scandalised.

“Oh? Why not?” Eddie asked, sounding resigned even though his lips were curled into a small smile as he ate another one of his chips. 

“It’s bad for their health,” Buck explained, maintaining his dignified stare when Eddie snorted. 

“They’re seagulls. Don’t they eat trash?”

“Only if humans are careless enough to make it accessible for them.” Buck took the napkins out of the paper bag their food had been in and shoved them in the pocket of his sweatshirt, taking the opportunity to also rub some of the grease off his fingers, and then threw the sandy chip in there. “Besides, feeding seagulls also makes them more likely to bother and potentially attack humans. Do you really want to encourage the bird army?” 

“Isn’t that a rite of passage for LA beachgoers?” Eddie asked. It was starting to get dark now, the blazing orange of the setting sun only partially visible on the horizon, but Buck thought he could still see that Eddie was giving him that fond look that always seemed to infuse his chest with warmth. “Did I ever tell you about the first time I brought Chris to the beach?”

“And got attacked by half a dozen seagulls while he laughed uproariously and tried to get your phone out of your jacket so he could get a photo?” Buck finished, cackling. He had heard that story a long time ago; he was pretty sure it would have been before the tsunami since it was around the time Eddie had started looking into surfing lessons for Chris and those had stopped after their terrifying experience at the pier. 

He remembered how soft it had made him feel, back when he didn’t know Eddie quite as well as he did now, because Eddie had shared that it was the first real laugh he remembered getting out of Chris since returning from his last Afghanistan tour. He had looked so proud of himself despite the embarrassment the story caused him and Buck had been filled with wonder at how amazing of a father he was after everything that he’d been through. 

“Little brat,” Eddie grumbled, voice thick with affection.

“You’d think having stories like that would have made it easier with this latest date,” Buck said, steering their conversation back to the prior topic. “She was the one who had a kid around Christopher’s age, right? It should have given you some common ground.”

“Yeah, you would think,” Eddie groaned. “I don’t know what happened. It was fine at first but then it was like she started to get annoyed whenever I told a story about Chris.”

“Which ones did you tell?” Buck questioned curiously. The only thing he could think of that might be off-putting to a fellow single parent would be if it was an anecdote that might potentially embarrass the kid. Buck still shuddered at the memory of his mother telling a friend of hers about the time he’d gotten a bad fever when he was seven and ended up wetting the bed. The friend had frowned at her and seemed sympathetic towards Buck but that had not helped his horrified and self-conscious 15-year-old self feel any better about it. 

But he knew, with as much certainty that he knew the sun would finish setting within the hour, that Eddie would only share something like that with Buck or Carla and even that would be purely because they would be the ones helping to look after Chris if he ever got that badly ill. 

He supposed someone acting like they didn’t care about being a father would also be a turn-off but there was absolutely no way that anyone could see Eddie talk about Chris and not realise that he loved being a dad with every fibre of his being. 

It was one of Buck’s favourite things about Eddie. 

“Uh, I told her about the time we took Chris skateboarding,” Eddie offered, brows furrowed as he tried to remember. “I think I talked about your zoo trips and some of the ones I’ve tagged along with you guys for. We both talked about helping kids with homework and some of the activities they do. I told her about the stable you found so Chris could try horse-riding.” Seeing that Buck was about to ask another question, he added, “And no, I did not tell her that Charlie was your real reason for taking us to that stable.” 

“Those are great stories,” Buck said, mystified as to what the problem could be with them. “I was there for all of them; I would know.” 

Eddie shrugged, downtrodden and plaintive. “Maybe you’re right. I just don’t have any game.”

Buck loved teasing Eddie because it always made him hilariously indignant and they would often both end up breaking out into laughter once a few examples were brought up. Seeing him so genuinely distressed, however, was far from enjoyable.

“Well, it’s not like I can talk on that front right now either,” he admitted, dropping his almost empty cardboard tray on the paper bag and leaning forward to set his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on that beautiful horizon. He’d been adamant that he wasn’t going to talk about the problems he was having with Natalia with his team in detail, although he had told them that things weren’t exactly going swimmingly. He didn’t want to confess that yet another relationship of his seemed to be circling the drain already. 

But telling Eddie felt different. After all, if he couldn’t share his worries with his partner, then who could he share them with? 

(The voice in the back of his head that sounded weirdly like Bobby screamed ‘your therapist’ at him, but he’d gotten very good at ignoring that suggestion last year after Maddie left and everything about his life felt way too overwhelming to even consider trying to unpack it in therapy.)

“Passed the honeymoon phase, huh,” Eddie said, tactfully leaving out the ‘already’ and doing a remarkably good job at not gloating considering the numerous warnings he’d given Buck about dating her.

That was also very Eddie though – he’d learned how to tell when Buck needed someone to listen to him and when he could handle being needled.

“I guess, yeah,” Buck said, breathing out a heavy sigh. “It’s – I don’t know how to explain it – but it’s like she doesn’t get how our family works.”

“I thought she was the only one who could see you,” Eddie quipped, dry as the Sahara desert.

Which, alright, fair, that didn’t really count as needling since Buck had said that and he had realised a few hours afterward that it might not have come out exactly as he intended.  

In his defence, at the time he was still trying to move past his near-death experience and was struggling to do so because everywhere he looked his family was spiralling even harder than he was about it. 

Natalia had given him the freedom to talk about it and explore the topic without having to dig into the thrum of fear that appeared when he was forced to consider exactly how close he had come to dying. 

His terror had plenty of fodder from his nightmares. It didn’t need any more. 

“She saw what I needed her to see. What I needed someone to see,” Buck confessed. He was glad that the sun had mostly finished setting and that they had chosen a more secluded part of the beach which meant that the closest source of artificial light was a few hundred yards away. 

Sitting in the dark, unable to properly see Eddie’s face, made it that little bit easier to allow himself to be so unbearably vulnerable.  

Eddie shifted closer towards Buck so that their arms were brushing against each other, the warmth acting like a form of silent support as though Eddie knew that Buck wouldn’t be able to handle him vocalising that support yet.

“And now?” he prodded delicately. 

Buck was silent for a few moments, trying to work out how to articulate what he wanted to say. 

“She thinks it’s sweet that my mom bought my couch.” 

Eddie shifted again and Buck immediately missed that warmth so he moved as well, chasing that serenity that only came when he was with Eddie or Christopher (or, ideally, both of them). 

“The couch from hell?” Eddie exclaimed incredulously, settling back into place side-by-side with Buck. “She thought it was sweet that your mom has a secret plan to destroy our backs?” 

“It’s not that bad,” Buck protested unconvincingly. 

“It is the couch from hell,” Eddie reiterated firmly. “And what’s even worse about it is that your mom thinks that buying it for you absolves her for not being there for your entire life.”  

“She was there when I was a kid,” Buck defended half-heartedly. “They always looked after me when I was injured – which, you know me, was pretty often.”

“Whoop-de-doo, they deserve a fucking medal,” Eddie said, uncharacteristically scathing. “They might have been there physically but they abandoned you emotionally and they kept hiding things from you and guilt-tripping you until you and Maddie stood up for yourselves. Now they think that a few family therapy sessions – sessions where they spend half the time talking about their grief and how it impacted them like it's the only thing that matters – and being here for one near-death experience that happened to occur when they were already in town means they’ve done enough. Even though they jumped ship back to Pennsylvania while you were still having nightmares and you were stressed out of your mind because the cardiologist wasn’t sure if the damage to your heart was permanent which would finish your firefighting career. But buying you the worst couch ever made means that everything is fine and their failures are inconsequential.”

Buck stared at Eddie’s dark silhouette, completely stunned by the tirade. 

Eddie turned to face him, the detail of his expression lost to the darkness, but they were sitting close enough that Buck could tell that he had softened. 

“That goddamn couch is not a sweet gesture,” he said, his voice lower but no less firm. “It’s just another sign that they think they can magically make all the hurt go away without putting in the work.”

It felt like his heartbeat and Eddie’s heavy breathing were the only sounds in existence. Even the seagulls seemed to have been brought to silence by the rant. 

The thing was, Buck hadn’t been able to identify why Natalia claiming that the couch from his mom was a ‘sweet gesture’ bothered him so much. On the surface, she was right: it was a nice thing for his mom to do and, even though it wasn’t very comfortable, it had still made his recovery a little easier. 

Even though he recognised that, the comment had still bothered him. He had tried bringing it up with her but Natalia would get frustrated that he wasn’t appreciating his mother enough and, once again, he hadn’t wanted to go into the sordid detail of his family’s past with her so he had left it. 

But Eddie had somehow reached into the depths of his fears and insecurities and the resentment towards his parents that he tried his hardest to pretend wasn’t there and articulated the situation in a way that resonated perfectly with Buck. 

He had never shared how terrified he was about the damage from the lightning strike being permanent although he was sure that his fire family would have found it easy to guess given the whole lawsuit debacle after his last major injury. 

And suddenly, an epiphany appeared in his head, fully formed and forthright: this was what it meant to be seen, to be known.

It wasn’t a comfortable experience, like the thought of being seen by Natalia had been. 

He had never really understood that saying about how being known was a mortifying ordeal but it now seemed to fit perfectly with how he was feeling. 

“Man, you really have gotten therapised,” Buck croaked, trying to break the elongated silence with a joke. “You’re going to start putting Frank out of business.”

Eddie let him get away with it, perhaps recognising that Buck needed some time to deal with what had been said. “Nah, I think the 118 alone is probably enough to keep his schedule busy.” 

“The joys of being first responders,” Buck said, leaning back to stare at the few stars that were visible. 

“It’s not one of the easier aspects of our jobs,” Eddie acknowledged, copying his position, their hands brushing together in the sand. “But I like to think that the family we found – we created – more than makes up for it.” 

Buck nodded in agreement. He didn’t know what he would have done, what he would be doing right now, if he hadn’t found the 118.

If he hadn’t found this perfect partnership with Eddie, which had also given him the privilege of helping to raise the single most amazing kid in the universe.

If he hadn’t found the sibling-like camaraderie with Hen and Chim, which had helped give him the drive and motivation to stick with firefighting which in turn gave him a level of stability that allowed Maddie to get away from Doug and re-enter his life.

If he didn’t have the paternal guidance from Bobby that he’d been craving for most of his life.

Paternal guidance that was bringing even more love and more family into his life, as May drew him further into Bobby’s family. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” 

Eddie’s arm moved against his as he chuckled. “Gonna need a little more detail to answer that question, Buck.” 

“Not – not the family we’ve created within the team. But – the fact that May has been trying to get me more involved in Bobby’s actual family and treating me like I’m his actual son. Do you think it’s weird?” 

“Does Natalia think it’s weird?” Eddie asked shrewdly. 

“What do you think?” Buck said instead of answering. 

Eddie hummed to show he was thinking through his answer rather than saying what he thought Buck wanted to hear. 

“Did you notice how I said ‘created’ before, and didn’t only leave it as found,” he said eventually. 

“I don’t know what that means,” Buck whined, pouting at Eddie even though it was pointless since he wouldn’t see it. 

“It means that our family didn’t pop up out of the blue,” Eddie explained, his amusement at Buck’s dramatics audible. “Yes, we found the people we needed but transforming those initial friendships into a family the way we did took work which we were all willing to do. With you and Bobby – I obviously don’t know exactly what it was like when you two first met but I suspect he’s been treating you like his kid for a lot longer than either of you realised and that bond has been building ever since because – unlike the situation with your birth parents – both of you have been putting in the work. So no, I don’t think it’s weird that May is acting on something that’s been there a long time.” 

“You think so?” Buck asked, not even caring about how vulnerable he sounded. 

“No, I gave a big speech that was all a lie,” Eddie said, nudging him with his elbow. “Yes, that is what I think. What did Bobby say when you asked him?” 

“I haven’t…” 

At Eddie’s silence, he added defensively, “I mean we’ve spoken about our relationship in general but never about the whole him sometimes acting like my dad thing. He’s never brought it up and I didn’t want to because – because…”

“Because you didn’t think you could handle it if his feelings don’t match yours,” Eddie finished knowingly. 

There was that whole ‘mortifying ordeal of being known’ thing again … 

“Maybe you should talk with May about it,” Eddie suggested. “See what pushed her to strengthen your ties with the Grant-Nash fold. Maybe that’ll give you what you need to bring it up with Bobby.”

“Maybe.” Buck stared up at the sky, wishing that his brain could be as calm and clear as the inky blackness spread out above him. 

Eddie’s phone startled them out of their silent musing several minutes later.

“That’s our cue to get the kid,” Eddie said, silencing the alarm. He groaned as he stood up, patting himself down to try and get the sand off. 

“Tonight was Jackson’s party, wasn’t it?” Buck also stood, shoving what was left of their fish and chips into the paper bags to make them easier to carry.

“Yeah, the one that’s not a birthday party, because they’re old enough to have party-parties now,” Eddie said, mimicking Christopher’s exasperated voice perfectly. 

Buck laughed hard enough that Eddie cracked and joined him. 

“Teenagers, right,” Eddie said ruefully, grabbing some of their rubbish from Buck as they started to make their way back to the lit path.

“Pre-teens,” Buck corrected. “Let’s not rush ahead; I am so not ready for Chris to be a teenager yet.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Eddie muttered in agreement. 

“Jackson’s house is off Sunset, right? Probably no point in going back to my place if it is.”

“Yeah, it is – I figured you wouldn’t mind coming with me?”

“And get the opportunity to find out the latest gossip about Ebony and Toby first hand?” Buck said dramatically, making Eddie snort. Christopher had been regaling them with the story of two friends in his class who were apparently very oblivious to the fact that they each had a massive crush on the other. “Of course I don’t mind.” 

The parking lot where they’d left Eddie’s car was thankfully very well lit and it was easy to spot the rubbish bin near the curb.

“Good choice on the fish and chips at the beach,” Buck said contentedly, throwing in the trash he was holding. “That was the best night I’ve had in a while.”

“Same,” Eddie agreed, smiling at him fondly, his eyes so very soft.

Honestly, Buck really didn’t understand why Eddie found it so difficult to date when it seemed like choosing the right activity or finding the right words was so effortless for him. All he had to do was organise an evening like this and it would be impossible not to fall in love with him. 

Any date would be putty in his hands…

“Buck?” Eddie asked, his forehead creased in slight alarm at whatever he was seeing in Buck’s face. 

“Uh, no-nothing,” Buck stammered, shaking his head. He strode towards the car determinedly, calling behind him that they better get a move on, desperately hoping that Eddie wouldn’t notice that he was feeling distinctly like putty.

Chapter Text

“I heard you and Natalia broke up.”

Buck rubbed his face, blinking at May blearily. His hair was ruffled, the curls poking out in a way they never did unless he’d been stuck in the hospital for days on end, and he was wearing rumpled sweatpants and an equally rumpled oversized hoodie.

He must have still been sleeping and rolled out of bed to stumble downstairs when he heard her knock, which made sense considering their 24-hour shift had ended up being closer to 36 hours. Bobby got home at some point in the dead of night and May was pretty sure that he would have skipped breakfast in favour of sleeping some more if it weren’t for the fact that they currently had a full house.  

Which worked out well, because otherwise she would have had no idea that her stepbrother was in need of a pick-me-up and probably also a decent venting session. She wasn’t Maddie, but she knew from experience that airing your difficulties with someone else who was also subject to the whims of the dating world often held more appeal than talking to someone who was happy and secure in a long-term relationship. 

“I’m here to be your sounding board while you bitch,” she announced, since Buck looked like he needed things spelled out right now. “Or I guess I can be the sympathetic ear, but that doesn’t sound like it’s as much fun.” 

“Right,” Buck said, stifling a yawn, still sounding confused. 

“I brought frappes.” She carefully waved the drink tray she was holding in his face, hoping that seeing and smelling the large cups of sugary caffeinated goodness would wake him up and he would let her inside.

“Right,” Buck said again, but at least this time he finally moved out of the doorway, allowing her to enter. He yawned again, shaking his head like he was trying to shake the tiredness out. “Bobby already managed to tell you about the break-up?”

“Grandma asked how you were and it came up,” May explained, placing the drinks tray on the table along with her keys and phone. 

Her grandma had also said it was good riddance, since she apparently had not been impressed by Natalia during their brief meeting, but May thought it was wiser not to mention that until she had a better gauge of how upset Buck was about it all. 

Besides, if she went into that, then she would also end up sharing the fact that her grandmother was convinced that Buck and Eddie were a separated couple (she was quite upset about it too, despite never having met Eddie) and even May thought that maybe Buck needed a little more time before hearing that. 

“Can you get some spoons?” 

Buck nodded, grabbing two spoons from a drawer, using them to wave her towards the living room where he dropped onto the couch with a sigh. 

May traded him one of the frappes for a spoon and then dropped onto the couch as well – which was a mistake, because that thing was nowhere near as soft and supple as it looked. She shifted backwards, hoping that the backrest would at least be more comfortable than the seat itself, but no such luck. 

“Tell me this thing has at least, like, four shots of caffeine in it,” Buck said, digging through the whipped cream with his spoon to get at the actual drink.

May snorted. “Not a chance; I am not about to tell our bonus dad that I stressed your fragile heart.” 

“My heart is not fragile,” Buck complained, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know, he said you seemed pretty down about the whole Natalia thing.” Studying him, she could see why Bobby had chosen that wording. Buck didn’t seem devastated or even all that sad like she would have expected over losing a relationship that he’d seemed to be pretty happy about. 

But he was definitely subdued in a way that couldn’t be explained away purely by his tiredness. 

“That was not what you meant,” Buck grumbled around his spoon. “My heart is literally fine.”

“It also literally stopped and you literally died,” May rebuked, flicking some of the whipped cream on her spoon at him as an additional reprimand. “You can deal with us being irrational.” She glared at him until he slouched down on the couch, chastised. 

“You know, that was why I started dating Natalia,” Buck said after a second, staring at his drink. 

“What, because she was irrational?” May asked, confused. 

Buck chuckled ruefully. “No. Because she treated me normally even after she found out I died.”

That was fair. May supposed that it would be difficult to work through those initial feelings about such a horrifying experience if your family’s constant worry and fussing kept serving as a reminder of it all. 

There were times where she felt like she needed more time to grapple with a problem or to ruminate more on her feelings before reaching out for the support of her family as well. 

And then Buck added, “She thought it was cool,” and May’s understanding flew out the window.

“Okay, what does that mean?” she questioned suspiciously, sitting up to stare at him with narrowed eyes. “Because that reaction doesn’t actually sound – well, normal.”

And if Natalia expressed a sentiment like anywhere near someone from the 118, then May suddenly understood why Bobby seemed to agree with her grandma’s caustic ‘good riddance’ commentary.

“I mean, she’s around death all the time for work, right,” Buck explained, using his spoon to dig out more of the frappe as he spoke. “So she thought it was cool that I’d had this experience with it. You know, considering how rare it is.” 

May waited for more but that was apparently the extent of the explanation. “Yeah, that’s still not normal,” she said flatly. “Like. I could see it being considered interesting for her, but calling a near-death experience cool is…”

Literally something so awful that May couldn't find the words for it. 

“Harry also calls it ‘cool’,” Buck pointed out, his shoulders tensed defensively.

“Harry is 11. Not exactly the height of maturity,” May retorted, rolling her eyes. “Also, he has surprisingly little experience with death considering how many first responders we have in our family. I bet you he wouldn’t be calling it cool if he’d been here when it all went down.” 

Buck shoved a giant glob of the whipped cream into his mouth. “Maybe,” he muttered quietly.

Maybe? 

Seriously, who went to someone who died, whose family had to sit vigil and pray that they made it through despite so many odds being stacked against them, and told them that it was cool. 

May was sure that the conversation she’d had with Bobby, right outside of the hospital because he couldn’t bear going any further in case something happened, was something she would never, ever forget. 

Seeing her stepfather so distraught like that? The realisation of how badly he would be broken if it turned out that her reassurances would be untrue? 

There were a lot of words that May could think of to describe her feelings about that moment. At the time, she’d been mulishly hopeful. In hindsight, she realised that she was so stunned that she kept moving forward because she refused to conceive of a scenario where they got anything other than a positive outcome.

‘Cool’ didn’t factor anywhere in that equation.  

And for Buck to think that it was an appropriate reaction?

If May had known about that a couple months ago, she would not have been nearly as nice or encouraging when Buck had talked about his new relationship while they hung out. 

“I bet Chris wouldn’t call it cool.”

Buck flinched. 

She knew it was a low blow but she still couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it. 

The topic of the lightning strike was rarely brought up in their circle since Buck’s recovery and she had never heard it discussed around Christopher at all. However, she’d had so many opportunities to observe how their relationship had grown over the years and she’d seen how close he was with Buck so she felt like her assumption of how he would have reacted would be pretty damn accurate. 

Buck’s reaction meant that she was right and the comparison worked to drive her point home. 

“No,” Buck said dully, rubbing his forehead. “No, he wouldn’t.” 

“I know I said I could do sympathy or bitching, but now I feel like we definitely need to go with the bitching route,” May declared, taking some pity after a minute of silence. She shifted on the couch again, sitting on it sideways with one leg under the other so she could face him. She tried leaning on the armrest but it was exactly the wrong height to be any sort of comfortable so she slouched forward instead. 

Buck sighed, copying her position on the couch so he was also facing her. May craned her neck slightly to see behind him and yep – even though he was taller than her, the armrest was still not at the right height for him to be able to lean against it comfortably. 

“I don’t think there’s much to bitch about,” he confessed. “She was really lovely and kind. It just… didn’t turn out to be quite right for me, I guess.”

Kind. As if, with that kind of commentary about someone else’s close call with death. 

“So you broke up with her,” May probed, feeling vindicated that he was at least the one to kick her callous ass to the curb. 

“Yeah. Which is… still a new experience for me.” Buck tossed his spoon on the coffee table, switching to drinking from the cup since most of the whipped cream was gone. 

Now that he’d reminded her of it, May did recall both Bobby and Eddie saying they were proud of Buck for ending things with Taylor since he apparently had a tendency to keep relationships going even when there were numerous signs that things were no longer working. 

Which did beg the question, what had Natalia done that made Buck take that step with her when it was still relatively early days?

“What made you think it had to be done?” 

Buck sighed and stared into his drink, his jaw twitching as he thought about his response. The longer he ruminated the more curious May was about how he would answer what she thought was a pretty simple question. 

“You’re probably going to laugh.”

“Try me,” May challenged, her curiosity now paired with bafflement.

“She didn’t get my family,” he said, looking at her with a rueful smile. 

There was something else lurking behind that simple expression, May was sure of it. But perhaps it was something Buck hadn’t fully come to terms with yet – it wasn’t like he had been prepared to delve into the subject today. 

With that in mind, she decided to take his response at face value. 

For now.  

“And by your family you mean –”

“Our family,” he corrected himself. “I mean, she didn’t understand my relationship with Mom and Dad either, which didn’t help, but the idea of choosing or making your family really seemed to trip her up.”

“Seriously?” May asked, her estimation of Natalia dropping even lower. How did one plan funerals if they were totally ignorant of the concept of choosing your family?

Thank god they’d broken up, because someone who tried to add complications to family was definitely not what Buck needed in a relationship. 

“She was confused by how close I was with Chris and I think it upset her when I had to skip out early from a date because he needed me or if I said we couldn’t do something because I already had plans with him. And she did not get why I spend so much time with my ‘co-workers’.” He hesitated there, tilting his head as though he was studying her. 

May looked back at him openly, hoping he would keep going because it was obvious that he hadn’t gotten to the crux of his point. 

“I think –” Buck stopped again, taking a deep breath before forging ahead, “I think she was particularly weirded out that I was spending a lot of time with my boss’s stepdaughter.”

“Ah,” May said, amused despite herself. She had to fight to stop her smile from growing. “And what did you say to that?”

“I mean, I told her it wasn’t anything weird.”

May raised her eyebrows at him judgingly. “That’s it?”

“It was hard to explain,” Buck protested plaintively. 

“It’s really not,” May said, giving into the urge to show her amusement. 

Buck didn’t seem offended, a small smile appearing as he relaxed against the couch to the sound of her soft laughter. 

“Why have you been doing so much more recently?” he asked, his expression serious. “All the invitations, calling me your brother, letting your grandparents think I’m Bobby’s kid…” 

May wedged her cup between her leg and the back of the couch, taking a moment to ponder over what to say. It wasn’t like she’d been subtle about her plans so being called out on it was inevitable, although her money would have been on Bobby beating Buck to it.

“Life is short.”  

It was a simple answer, but it managed to encompass her feelings and where her drive and motivation had come from. 

“There has to be more to it than that,” Buck claimed, shaking his head. He held up his cup, pointing at it with his other hand. “Life is short, so you come over with frappes because your stepdad’s ki – someone in your stepdad’s family broke up with their girlfriend?” 

May picked up on the stumbled and awkward wording, noting that he was still unwilling to specifically identify himself as Bobby's kid despite everything. 

“Yeah. Because life is short, and you are my brother,” she said matter-of-factly. 

She could have made it sound like a challenge but she didn’t because it wasn’t. 

“The last one about my grandparents was kind of accidental though,” she admitted, grinning when that finally made Buck laugh. “I wanted them to understand that you were part of our family but I wasn’t expecting them to think that you’re Bobby’s biological son.”

“Why though?” Buck persisted once the laughter faded. “Like, Hen and Karen are your family as well, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“And I know that Bobby does treat me differently to them.”

May kept her mouth shut for that one, deciding it wasn’t the time to say ‘no shit, Sherlock’.

“But why do you treat me differently to them?” 

“Because our relationship is different,” she said readily, the answer obvious to her. “They’re adults – and yes, I know you are too but you don’t treat me like there’s that adult-kid divide. You do with Harry, but I think that’s more since he’s the same age as Chris. But you hang out with us, and you gang up against Bobby with us, and we trust you.”

She could have said more, could have found specific examples that expressed what she was trying to say, but Buck had dropped eye contact with her at some point during her spiel, his cup crumpling under his tightening grip and for the first time since May had made sense of this whole situation herself she didn’t think more detail was necessary. 

“Bobby brought you into our family and you came and we wanted you to stay. All I did was create those opportunities for you to stay because I was sick of waiting for you and Bobby to do it.” 

Buck exhaled a small laugh at that last exasperated comment. 

“Bobby brought me, huh?” he said, sounding shaky. “And here I thought I burrowed in wherever I could find a spot.”

May shook her head, firmly reiterating, “Bobby brought you.” 

“Neither of you seem willing to say it,” she added after a second, deciding she might as well take advantage of the fact that they were having a solid conversation about their family. “But actions speak louder than words and Bobby’s actions have been saying that you are his kid for as long as I have known him.” 

There was a slight sheen in Buck’s eyes when he finally lifted his gaze to look at her again. 

She picked up her cup again, draining most of what was left while she waited patiently for him to speak. 

“You know, you remind me a lot of Maddie,” he said unexpectedly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Neither of you let me get away with any shit.” His eyes crinkled when she laughed in surprise. “Guess I’m stuck with two strong-willed sisters.”

May leaned forward to tap her cup against his. This wasn’t what she had expected when she decided to come over and give Buck the opportunity to vent about his break-up but she was perfectly happy about it.

Her smile faded when the movement made her realise how sore her back was from this stupid couch.

“Did you buy this thing when you had no money or something?” she complained, glaring at it and arching her back in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. “Because I will start a GoFundMe to buy you a better couch. You’re a heroic first responder, I bet we could get plenty of cash for a good one.” 

Buck threw his head back and laughed, far more amused than she thought her completely legitimate complaint warranted. 

“My mom bought the couch,” he said, flopping back on it. “And it probably was pretty pricey, knowing her.” 

Well, that was another person who she now had a lower opinion of after this morning. Which was impressive, because her opinion of Buck’s parents already hovered somewhere around the depth of the Mariana trench.

“What, did she want to torture you? Because I think you can safely get rid of it if her motives are evil.” 

“I don’t know if it’s better or worse that she was totally sincere and thought it was a good couch,” Buck said candidly. “Either way, it feels kind of wasteful and ungrateful to get rid of it.” 

“You’d be doing yourself a service,” May muttered, arching her back again. “And all your guests one too.”

“I think Eddie might be plotting to stain or damage it so that I have an excuse to get rid of it.”

“Really?”

That did sound like something Eddie would do – May had learned a lot about his petty streak during their time working together at the Dispatch centre. She made a mental note to ask him about Buck’s mom at some point; she had a feeling that his rants about her might be even more epic than the Taylor Kelly ones. 

Helping his cause would probably make him more likely to cooperate with her… and would also lessen the chances that she might ever need to experience this god-awful couch again.

May shifted position again, taking the cap off her frappe and tipping it over fully so that the last dregs of her caffeinated salted caramel and cream concoction dripped onto the couch. 

“Oops,” she said, deadpan. 

“Is there anything good on?” Eddie asked, dropping onto the sofa adjacent to the couch that Hen and Chimney were using. Hen was scrolling through her phone, barely paying any attention to the action scene playing out on the television, so he guessed the answer was a ‘no’. 

They were the only ones in the darkened loft, the majority of the crew most likely deciding to take advantage of the downtime to try and catch some early sleep after their last shift had ended up being ludicrously busy and intensive.  

“One of the fast and the furious’s,” Chim said, making a face which indicated he didn’t think that qualified as ‘anything good’.

“I did not realise how overly dramatic those movies are,” Hen commented, dropping her phone on the couch next to her. “I swear they could put some Harlequin novels to shame.” 

“Do not let Johnson hear you say that,” Chim advised, snorting. “He loves that whole franchise.”

“Of course he would,” Hen scoffed, shaking her head. She turned her head to face Eddie, sitting up to ask, “Where’s Buck? He didn’t seem tired enough to try and get a nap in yet.”

“I left him to talk with Chris for a little longer,” Eddie said. He took a quick look at the kitchen to confirm that Bobby definitely wasn’t there; seeing that it was empty, he slouched back on the sofa and threw his legs up on the coffee table to stretch them out. 

“Wouldn’t Chris be heading to sleep by now?” Hen said, pulling back her sleeve to look at her watch. “You called to say goodnight, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s around his bedtime,” Eddie replied. “Buck will send him off to bed before he manages to push it too far though. Which at least saves me from needing to have that argument again.”  

The newest aspect of Christopher’s journey towards independence was an insistence that he no longer needed a bedtime. Eddie had somewhat relented by removing a specific bedtime on Fridays and Saturdays, although he’d set a screen curfew instead to stop him from trying to stay up to play videogames. For school nights, however, he had stuck to his guns and only moved it back by half an hour which Chris was not overly thrilled about. 

The kid tried to get Buck on his side but Buck had backed Eddie up with the help of a few articles he’d found online about appropriate bedtimes for pre-teens. Chris had not been thrilled with that response either. 

At the very least, Buck and Eddie managed to have a surprisingly enjoyable evening lamenting the miseries of puberty and exchanging stories of their own hormonal teenaged experiences while Chris blasted music from his bedroom where he had sequestered himself in order to mutinously ignore them. 

(In case they had any doubts regarding his intentions, Chris had placed a sign on his door which had ‘I’m ignoring you!!!’ written on it in his wonky scrawl.)

For the most part, Chris was adhering to his bedtime with only the occasional scowl but, after two days of additional freedom, Sundays were becoming more of a battle so Eddie did not mind handing that experience over to Buck.

Besides, he also thought that some extended time chatting with Chris might get Buck’s mind off his recent breakup. While his partner didn’t appear to be all that devastated about losing Natalia – rightfully so, since in Eddie’s opinion she didn’t warrant any sort of angst – he had still been acting strangely these last few days, often dropping into periods of troubled contemplation. 

He kept brushing it off when Eddie tried to bring it up and Eddie wanted to give him some space to work through it but he couldn’t deny that he was getting worried that his Buck might once again be spiralling about his chances of finding a loving partner to share his life with. 

Eddie would happily tell Buck that he was the best life partner anyone could possibly ask for, and he certainly had ample evidence to cite to verify his reassurance, but Buck hadn’t opened himself up to give Eddie the opportunity to provide his opinion.

So, in the interim, he had no qualms about using his son to help foster some cheeriness and to help convey that no matter what else was happening, their family was going to remain perfectly steady. 

“Buck’s going to send him to bed,” Chimney repeated, exchanging a weighted glance with Hen which had Eddie’s senses tingling.

“Yeah, they’ve been researching Atlantis together and Chris watched a new documentary about it with Carla so I figured I’d let them geek out about it without having to explain things to me,” Eddie said warily, drawing on the same excuse he’d given Buck when he’d bowed out of the conversation, not wanting to reveal his suspicions about Buck’s current state of mind.  

Hen and Chimney shared another glance, this one longer like they were trying to silently communicate something significant.

Perhaps that ‘something’ was whether they should actually share what they were thinking aloud; they both turned to Eddie, indecision apparent on Chimney’s face while Hen simply looked thoughtful. 

Part of Eddie was reluctant to ask, an instinct telling him that it wouldn’t lead to a comfortable conversation. However, Frank had well and truly drilled the value of talking into him and he knew that he would be considerably less stressed if he knew what was going on. 

“What is it?” he prompted reluctantly, drawing his feet back off the table and sitting up properly. 

Chim glanced over at Hen one more time before finally speaking. “That’s very parental, isn’t it?” 

Whatever Eddie thought they were going to say, that wasn’t it. “Yeah. I mean… it’s Buck.” 

Hen sighed at his simple response, which didn’t feel very fair considering he didn’t even understand what they were trying to get at. 

“You don’t think that’s interesting?” Hen questioned. Like Eddie, she ditched her relaxed position, sitting up properly next to Chimney and leaning forward with her elbows resting on her thighs. 

Eddie shook his head and shrugged to convey his confusion.

“To us, from the outside, it sounds and looks like Buck has taken on a very fatherly role towards Christopher,” Hen said, measured and persistent.

“As opposed to being an uncle figure, like I am to Denny,” Chim added.

“Right,” Eddie said, searching their faces, the explanation only somewhat enlightening. 

“And you don’t think that’s interesting, that people perceive that to be Buck and Christopher’s relationship,” Hen repeated. 

“Why would it be interesting that people are accurately perceiving their relationship?” Eddie huffed. Maybe in the beginning it had been, back when Buck and Christopher were still building their bond and Buck and Eddie were learning more about each other and their relationship was strengthening day by day.

But nowadays? Those bonds were rock-solid, with a foundation so strong that Eddie knew they never had to worry about them drifting apart one day. 

Frank had found that interesting, when Eddie had tried explaining it to him once, but he was a therapist. Anything to do with relationships was interesting to him and Eddie knew that he and Buck and Christopher weren’t the most conventional of families. 

Hen and Chimney, on the other hand, had plenty of experience with unconventional families, so he was at a loss as to why they were suddenly so invested in the topic. 

His sense that he had to be missing something was heightened by the pair’s obvious surprise at his response: Hen’s eyes were so wide that her glasses had dropped down her nose and Chimney’s mouth was half open.  

Chimney looked furtively around at their surroundings before scooting forward on the couch so that he was sitting on the edge. “So – you’re saying – what are you saying?” he whispered.

They were looking at him like they were expecting Eddie to share some big secret. 

“That Buck is another parent to Christopher? Chris loves him and Buck would do anything for him,” he said slowly, his own volume normal because it certainly wasn’t a secret. 

It was a fundamental truth in Eddie’s life, one of the few things he absolutely knew he could count on no matter what blew up in his life: Buck would always, always be there for them and he would prioritise Christopher above everything else. 

Chimney was looking at him like a gaping fish again but at least Hen seemed to have comprehended his point.

“This has been happening for a long time, hasn’t it? It isn’t new. We just… haven’t been paying enough attention,” she said pensively.

“You both know what it means to build your family,” Eddie said, chuckling awkwardly because he didn’t understand how this was such novel information to them. “He became Christopher’s Buck and we’ve… grown from there.” 

Reflecting on that statement, he supposed he could potentially see why their wider family hadn’t realised the extent of Buck’s role in their own little family unit. 

Because Buck and Christopher had become fast friends, and Christopher had deemed him to be ‘my Buck’ very early on, but the process of Buck truly taking on the paternal mantle of being ‘Christopher’s Buck’ and becoming the only person Eddie would ever trust to help raise his son had been quieter and slower and had occurred mostly in the privacy of their homes. 

But, once again, he knew they understood what it meant to have an unconventional family. Why was Buck’s role in Christopher’s life such a big deal for them?

“So what does that mean for you and Buck?” 

Hen’s follow-up question acted like a record-scratching moment, pulling Eddie right out of his introspections. 

“What – what do you mean?” Eddie asked, uncharacteristically flustered. They were talking about Buck’s role in Christopher’s life, and obviously that meant that Buck and Eddie were partners in that parenting journey but that was all a part of this family they had created. Why was Hen now calling out his relationship with Buck specifically?

“Why would – we’re talking about Buck and Christopher.” 

“Yes, we are,” Hen said patiently, a hint of amusement starting to show in her face. “And what does Buck and Christopher’s relationship mean for you and your relationship with Buck?”

“I don’t – he’s Christopher’s Buck. He’s our Buck,” Eddie said weakly. His heart was pounding all of a sudden; he was starting to feel like he was in Frank’s consulting room, waiting to be pried open and investigated but he didn’t understand why. 

Why this line of questioning, and why was he reacting so viscerally to it? 

“Eddie,” Chimney said, his tone and his expression both completely serious.

It reminded Eddie of those long days waiting for Buck to come out of his lightning-induced coma.

The comparison was not helping his pounding heart or the sense of foreboding he couldn’t seem to shake away. 

“You are saying that Buck is the father of your child. That has to mean something to you.”  

He said it like Eddie hadn’t already given the answer: Buck was their family. 

Christopher adored him. 

Eddie trusted him.

They both relied on him, for his advice, for his easy-going nature, for the support he would provide freely and happily, for the joy he brought into their lives and the way he simply slotted into their family as though they had been waiting for him to join them. 

He was theirs, and they loved him, in the exact same way that Eddie loved –  

His brain cycled through names: Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Athena, Tia Pepa, Abuela, Carla…

None of them seemed to fit at the end of that sentence. 

The only name that resonated as an apt comparison for the love he had for Buck was… Shannon. 

And.

Well. 

Maybe Eddie actually did need to go see Frank. 

Of all the things, it was the damned zoo family membership which was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. 

Bobby had been watching and observing Buck and Christopher (and then eventually added Eddie to the mix) for a few months now. He felt like he had watched countless scenarios play out where Buck stepped up and acted like a second parent to Christopher and he had also seen a plethora of evidence which suggested Chris viewed him as such. 

Each of those observations brought new insights into the family unit which had been built right under his nose with him only barely aware of it and in turn each insight fuelled the flames of his curiosity as he wondered what it meant for Buck and Eddie’s relationship. 

But he had been content to simply watch quietly and ruminate unobtrusively, waiting to see if something would happen or Buck would say something which might give him a hint regarding his feelings about it all which might give Bobby a steer about whether he should offer advice or try and help.

And then Michael texted him with a request to ask Eddie about the zoo family membership. Harry had apparently enjoyed the visit greatly and Michael was curious about whether the benefits would still be worth it if he was only going to be in LA part-time.

It was an innocuous question and it should have been a completely uneventful exchange, except Eddie had shrugged and told him blithely, “I have no idea, Buck’s the one who sorted it out.”

“Buck organised your family membership to the zoo?” Bobby clarified, his eyebrows sky high.

“Yeah, the zoo is a Buck and Chris thing.”

“I see,” Bobby said, which was mostly true since Buck and Chris themselves had made that clear when they all went. 

“Besides, he’s way better than me at navigating all the memberships and subscriptions or whatever that we have,” Eddie continued, distracted as he checked a text that had come through on his phone. “Buck and Chris just end up getting annoyed with me when I start complaining about all the other streaming sites we apparently need when Netflix and Disney Plus used to be more than enough.”

“I see,” Bobby said again, and this time it was a blatant lie because they had flown past his realm of understanding. 

“Meanwhile, for someone who can keep dozens of renewal dates in his head, you would think he would remember when his car was due for a service,” Eddie grumbled, starting to type rapidly on his phone. Seeing Bobby’s confusion when he glanced up, he rolled his eyes and added, “I took his car to the mechanic this morning because it was three months overdue and he kept forgetting to book the damn appointment.” 

And that was the moment Bobby’s eyes were suddenly opened to the true depth of Buck and Eddie’s relationship and a whole lot of other small interactions he’d witnessed were shifted that little bit to give him a different understanding of their partnership. 

He was finally starting to see how Ravi had managed to come to the conclusion that they were a married (or divorced) couple but that new comprehension wasn’t sitting comfortably with him. 

It wasn't the nature of the realisation in and of itself that was causing his discomfort – it was the fact that he hadn’t known. 

The fact that Buck never said a word to him about it either meant that Buck wasn’t fully aware of the extent to which he and Eddie had become true life partners, or the extent to which he had taken up the mantle of parenting Christopher for that matter, or it meant that the kid wasn’t comfortable sharing that aspect of his life with him. 

Both of those options were upsetting in their own way and brought with them a complicated mix of regret, hurt, pride – and resolve. 

He couldn’t sit on the sidelines and stew in his contemplations. Bobby needed to work through it with Buck and have a proper conversation with him about all of this. 

Which was why he was now knocking on the door to Buck’s apartment bright and early in the morning with two bags of groceries sitting at his feet.

“Bobby?” Buck greeted, puzzled when he took in the sight at his door. He was still wearing his pyjamas but he didn’t look tired enough for him to have only rolled out of bed because the doorbell had gone off. He shook his head slightly and glanced down at his wrist, lowering it sheepishly when he remembered he didn’t have his watch on yet. “Did I, uh, did I forget that we were meeting for breakfast?” 

“No, it was a spontaneous decision on my part,” Bobby said breezily, picking up the grocery bags as a hint to Buck to move out of the doorway. 

Buck moved, muttering something under his breath that Bobby couldn’t hear properly as he moved inside. 

“What was that?” he asked, setting the bags on the pristine countertop – which hopefully was a sign that Buck hadn’t eaten yet.

“I said like stepfather, like stepdaughter,” Buck repeated, taking one of the bags to help unpack it. “May also dropped by the other day after she found out I broke up with Natalia.” 

Bobby paused, thinking back to that morning after the hellish shift where Buck had told them about his breakup. “She had a full day of classes that day, when did she manage to drop by?” 

“Uh,” Buck said, eyes wide in a way that indicated this was the first he’d heard about May having class. “She must’ve been on her way there…”

Bobby raised a dubious eyebrow at him. 

“And she only stayed for, like, five minutes tops. Dropped off a sorry-you-got-dumped frappe and went on her way,” he said brightly.

He was trying his best to be earnest but he wasn’t a great liar. It was one of the reasons most people never realised that Buck was hiding things from them; they always assumed they would be able to tell if he wasn’t being honest. 

What Buck was good at was keeping secrets. His skills lay in never revealing that there was anything to ask about which meant he was never put into a position where he had to lie. It was why the 118 had no idea Maddie existed until two days after she’d arrived in LA, it was why they hadn’t been aware of how terrible her ex-husband was until he had literally stabbed Chimney and kidnapped Maddie, and it was why it had taken months for them to learn that Buck had made the decision to attempt therapy again. 

Bobby liked to think that he had honed his ability to recognise when Buck was doing that over the years, but apparently his skills weren’t as strong as he’d hoped given his entire reason for the surprise breakfast.  

“I see,” Bobby said lightly, fixing Buck with a knowing look to underscore that he knew he was lying. 

It was a very big brotherly thing for him to do, which was a realisation that no longer really surprised Bobby anymore.

Buck ducked his head sheepishly. “So, uh, did you come over for us to try a new recipe?” He looked at the ingredients he had unpacked so far – tomatoes, chickpeas, bell peppers and onions – and frowned thoughtfully. “New pasta dish?” 

“No, you were right the first time,” Bobby chuckled. He pulled out the key ingredient from the bag he’d been unpacking: eggs. “I thought we could have breakfast. It’s been a while since we cooked breakfast together, chaotic team breakfasts at the station notwithstanding.” 

“I thought that was because I was ready to move on beyond breakfast?” Buck said, a little plaintive. 

“Which is why we’re doing a more complicated dish,” Bobby mollified, squeezing Buck’s shoulder and turning around to check Buck’s spice cabinet to make sure he had everything they would need. “I’m going to teach you how to make shakshuka.”

“Does shakshuka usually have chickpeas in it?” Buck asked. He grabbed a bowl on his way to the sink with the bag and set about rinsing them and setting them up to soak. 

“Sometimes. I thought it could be a good choice for you though,” Bobby said casually, keeping an eye on Buck in his peripheral vision. “More protein and I think Christopher and Eddie both enjoy eating chickpeas, don’t they?” 

“Yeah they do,” Buck said, his casualness probably not as forced as Bobby’s. “I found a really cool vegetarian pasta recipe that uses chickpeas, lemon and broccolini and they both loved it.” He turned to Bobby, pointing at him to emphasise his next words. “Which is a huge win because those boys are big believers in every meal needing to include meat.”

“I can believe it.” Bobby brought the set of spices he needed over to the counter and then set up two chopping boards. He left the tomatoes for Buck to deal with and set about finely chopping the onions. After a couple of minutes of silence, he idly asked, “You cook for them pretty often, huh?” 

“Well, yeah,” Buck said, looking at Bobby, confused at the question. “I mean, Eddie has obviously gotten better in the last year but cooking still isn’t his favourite chore. And – well, I like cooking for them.” He put the bowl of soaking chickpeas next to the spices and started with the tomatoes Bobby had left for him. 

“It feels good to cook for your family.” Bobby let himself take a moment to look at Buck’s methodical and precise chopping – when he had first decided to teach Buck how to cook, the kid’s skills with a knife had meant that tomatoes inevitably ended up more squished than diced. No one looking at the chopped items today would be able to differentiate which of them had tackled what.

“Exactly,” Buck agreed. “Seeing Chris eat and enjoy the food I’ve cooked just brings a specific kind of joy, you know.” 

Bobby did know that specific kind of joy exceptionally well.

(One day, perhaps he’d tell Buck that there was an even more intense kind of joy that came when you watched your kid master the recipes you had taught them and a special kind of warmth that appeared when you noticed how their love of cooking had grown under your tutelage.)

“You know, I don’t think I realised until recently exactly how close you and Christopher are,” Bobby commented. He was still striving to keep the tone light and casual but he had a feeling Buck could tell that they were hovering around the reason behind Bobby’s impromptu decision to teach Buck how to make shakshuka at 8am on a random Tuesday morning. 

“What do you mean?” Buck said. He was concentrating on the tomatoes on his chopping board, except his hands had stilled and he wasn’t actually chopping anymore. 

“I always knew you were close,” Bobby clarified. He didn’t stop his own chopping, but he did slow it down so that he could get away with not paying as much attention to what his hands were doing. “But these last few months have shown me that you’ve become something of a second dad to him.” 

“I love that kid,” Buck said, addressing the chopping board. “He’s – he’s the best kid in the world. And of course we’re close and he knows that I’ll always be there for him. And I guess I have taken that kind of a role. But I’m not – we’re family. He has Eddie. I’m his Buck. I don’t know if I can call myself his dad…” 

“Is there a difference? Between being his Buck and being his dad, I mean?” Bobby asked.

(He was getting a twinge of deja vu, his brain trying to remind him of a conversation he’d had long ago with Athena, after Hen had all but called him out about treating Buck like a son rather than a subordinate. 

But he was focused on Buck’s reaction, so it was easy enough to ignore the memory.)

Buck returned to his chopping without saying anything. Bobby decided to let him think for a few minutes. If he knew Buck, the kid would blurt something out soon enough and he had plenty of patience to draw on to wait him out. 

Sure enough, Buck spoke up once all the tomatoes had been chopped. His voice was small and uncertain which started triggering alarm bells in Bobby’s mind as soon as the first words were out of his mouth. 

“After Eddie got shot – he, uh, he told me – he changed his will. To, um, to have me be the one to look after Christopher if anything happened to him.” 

This time it was Bobby who froze. He had to put down his knife because holding onto it was one thing too many for his brain to manage while he attempted to comprehend the gravity of what he’d just been told. 

After Eddie was shot? That was two years ago! 

How in the hell hadn’t he known?

“You never told me that,” Bobby said, aware that his voice sounded odd. 

Buck hunched in on himself. “Didn’t seem like there was a reason to.”

Bobby couldn’t stop himself from gaping at him. 

Quite frankly, he considered it a miracle that he was managing to tamp down his instinctive response, which was probably a little too much on the hysterical side to be productive. 

“Buck –” he found his voice again, turning his body so that he was properly facing Buck. “Kid, that is a big deal. How do you feel about it? How did you feel about it when Eddie told you?”

Buck huffed. “A little annoyed that he waited so long to tell me,” he admitted candidly. 

“What do you mean ‘so long’?” Bobby asked, incredulous and confused as to why that was apparently the part Buck focused on. And it sounded like Eddie told Buck right around the time he’d gotten shot and made the decision to change his will, so how much more warning could he have gotten? 

“He changed it after getting stuck in the well,” Buck told him, finally making eye contact, like he knew Bobby’s reaction would make the effort worth it.

He wasn’t wrong, and at least his open-mouthed astonishment seemed to coax a small smile out of the kid. 

But the well?  

Three years ago? 

Buck and Eddie hadn’t even known each other for two years at that point…

And Eddie hadn’t said a word about it to Buck until the shooting – a full year later? 

That was… incomprehensible. 

A sign of an exceptional amount of trust. 

Astonishing. 

“That’s a big deal,” he reiterated calmly, firmly locking away his desire to dig deeper into it. He could do that with Athena later. For now, it wasn’t what Buck needed. “Buck, have you talked to anyone about this?” 

Bobby was almost positive he knew the answer to that, because if he had shared it with someone in their fire family circle then the news would have inevitably made its way back to him. There was a chance that Buck had spoken about it with Maddie but considering her state of mind at the time he thought it was unlikely. 

And, putting aside his insecurities about how unaware he’d been regarding Buck and Eddie, he was still confident that if Buck was going to share something like this with anyone then Bobby would be near the top of the list. 

Sure enough, Buck shook his head. “I’ve barely even spoken about it with Eddie.” 

“That’s a lot to be carrying around on your own,” Bobby said, his concern rising. “You know you can talk to me about it.”

Bobby’s heart unclenched at Buck’s easy and automatic “I know.”

“It – it just never felt like the right time to talk about it,” he added, shrugging helplessly. 

“With Eddie?” Bobby clarified, studying Buck’s demeanour as he nodded in confirmation.

It betrayed his discomfort easily and Bobby mulled over the best way to move the conversation forward; whether he should be subtle and coaxing or blunt and direct. 

Before he could come to a decision, Buck started speaking quickly, his words stumbling over each other as though a fountain had been switched on and he physically couldn’t hold it back anymore. “What could I talk to him about? He trusts me to be a – a back-up parent to his son. And he knows I would do anything for Chris, including taking on his parents no matter what they try to do.”

And that was an interesting thread that Bobby had every intention of following once the initial emotions blew over. He also filed away the mention of a ‘back-up parent’ for further exploration later. He doubted that this had been Eddie’s intention, not after seeing how Buck and Christopher interacted with his own eyes. 

“It’s not like it’s much of a secret that it would break me if something ever did happen to Eddie but of course I would put Christopher first and he knows that.”

Bobby’s heart clawed at his throat at the way Buck’s voice actually broke over the word ‘break’, making him feel like he could throw up. There was a raw pain in those words, a pain that Bobby knew far too intimately… because it reminded him of how he had felt after Marcy’s death. 

The underlying panic inherent in Buck’s words since they had started talking about Eddie’s will was also plenty familiar: it was the same kind of panic that Bobby felt whenever he thought about something happening to Athena. 

“So what else could I possibly say to him about it?” Buck finished, staring at Bobby beseechingly.

The answer came to Bobby surprisingly easily. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t so surprising, given everything leading up to this point. 

“How about what he means to you?” he suggested, the gentleness of his tone contrasting with the bluntness of his words. 

Buck made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. “I don’t – what –”

“What does he mean to you?” Bobby reworded the question, keeping that gentle tone, like he was soothing a skittish animal. 

Or perhaps ‘helping a terrified child understand and work through their fears’ was a more fitting analogy. 

“He’s – he’s my partner,” Buck said, like that should convey everything there was to say.

In fairness, Bobby thought it probably did convey everything Buck and Eddie felt about each other. The problem was, neither of them had ever broken down what they meant by ‘partner’. 

“And what does that mean to you?” Bobby prompted again.

“You know, this is why I stopped going to therapy,” Buck mumbled, averting his gaze.

Bobby wasn’t going to let him avoid the subject but he decided to try a slightly different tack. “Did you see Natalia as a partner as well when you two were dating? Or did you see the two of you headed in that direction? Or what about Taylor, since the two of you dated for longer?”

Buck’s jaw set mutinously, indicating that he didn’t want to answer. 

Once again, however, Bobby’s patience won out. 

“No,” Buck finally relented. “They – it wasn’t the same. Eddie is – he’s –” 

“You don’t have to tell me what Eddie means to you, although I would be happy to hear it,” Bobby said quietly, smiling slightly at Buck’s obvious relief. “But I do think that you should have a conversation with Eddie about it.” 

“How?” Buck asked plaintively. 

“Well, you could try showing up at his house with ingredients for shakshuka,” Bobby suggested self-deprecatingly, hoping to startle a laugh out of Buck. It didn’t quite work but at least he got another small smile. 

“No, I mean – how can I bring up the subject of our relationship if there’s a chance it might make him change his mind about our family?” Buck said earnestly. His fingers were drumming against the abandoned chopping board, betraying his anxiety. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t know if I can take that risk.” 

He wasn’t avoiding eye contact anymore, his head tilted and his teeth gnawing on his lips as he looked at Bobby, waiting for him to give his opinion. 

Bobby genuinely didn’t think there was much of a risk so it was an easy enough reassurance for him to give but his heartfelt response didn’t seem to give Buck much comfort.

It was more than anxiety fuelling Buck’s reluctance, he realised. It didn’t even seem like it was purely about reciprocation of feelings either. 

Buck appeared to be legitimately terrified that he would put his feelings on the line and that it might lead to this vitally important relationship he’d built with the Diaz family getting yanked away from him. 

Bobby continued to work on dispelling those fears as they returned to their cooking preparations, making sure he didn’t give away the fact that this final insight had also forced him to take a whole new lens to the unspoken bond that defined their own relationship.  

Christopher was enthralled in the videogame he was playing. 

Earlier in the evening, before dinner, he had been chattering away to his friends over his headset as the group of them worked together to get through a boss battle that was apparently extremely difficult. 

Between the language specific to the game itself and the general youth slang that Christopher had started using more often in recent months, Eddie had felt like he was trying to decipher some sort of code as his son rambled into his microphone.

But, once he’d returned to his console after eating dinner and making a start on one of his school assignments, the microphone stayed up and it was only the occasional hiss of success that broke the quiet atmosphere. 

Eddie was loath to break that peace by bringing up the emotional turmoil that had been plaguing him since he spoke with Hen and Chimney.

When Buck had come upstairs to join them, that turmoil had translated into a tense, writhing feeling in his gut which had gotten so uncomfortable that he was barely able to laugh at Buck’s mocking commentary about the terrible movie. 

He’d felt even worse when he realised that Buck noticed, his brow puckering in concern as he casually ducked his head to ask Eddie if he was alright, speaking in an undertone directly into his ear to avoid anyone else hearing because Buck knew that he preferred not to make his discomfort visible and public. 

Buck knew everything about what Eddie preferred. 

In many ways, he was better at it than Shannon had been, although that was in large part thanks to the fact that Eddie and Shannon both had the stereotypical self-centredness of youth back when they had gotten married. 

His relationship with Buck had been allowed to organically grow into something more mature, unlike the way he and Shannon had been thrust into needing to build a life together so they could provide for a child. 

Was that why he had never made the connection that his feelings for Buck were so similar to his feelings for Shannon? 

He definitely wasn’t able to answer that question while Buck’s breath was ghosting over his ear, waiting patiently for an answer. 

Eddie managed to fob him off with a simple ‘I’m tired’, although he could tell that Buck was not convinced. His concern seemed to be alleviated somewhat when Eddie told him that he had organised an emergency session with Frank but that relief had been hampered by Eddie’s frustratingly vague response to the question of why he needed said emergency session. 

He could understand why, since Eddie hadn’t refused to answer that question from Buck ever since his partner had walked into Eddie’s house to find Christopher, Eddie’s bedroom, and Eddie himself all in shambles. 

Thankfully, Buck had trusted him when he said that he was catching something early and that he promised to talk to Buck about it if he needed to. 

Buck also thankfully didn’t notice that those words tasted like ash coming out of Eddie’s mouth. 

Because if the frantic thoughts and revelations running through his head had any merit, then he certainly wasn’t catching it early. 

It would mean that he’d been wilfully ignorant for literal years about something that had the potential to blow apart his life and the small family he’d managed to build. 

“Is it because he’s a man?” Frank had posited thoughtfully, any amusement he had shown in the beginning of the session disappearing completely as soon as he realised how genuinely stressed Eddie was about the potential consequences of his newly-realised feelings for Buck. 

That had made Eddie pause – it was true that he never really acted on his bisexuality, or even spoke about it all that much. There were a few things to it, including having grown up in Texas with a religious family, attending a religious school, but then also finding love with a woman at a young age who then had his child when they were barely more than children themselves. 

He’d never really had the opportunity to act on it and, because everyone had only seen him dating women, he inevitably always got set up with women only. 

However, he had been toying with the idea of trying to find a date with a man once he had conceded that Pepa had a point about trying to find love again. With his lack of experience in the matter and reading one too many terrible stories about Grindr on the internet, though, it had ended up feeling too overwhelming and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to try yet. 

“If you did end up on one of those apps, or going to a bar, what sort of man do you think you would have approached?” was Frank’s follow-up question and Eddie stared at him, slack-jawed, because of course the image that came up was tall and blond and blue-eyed and enthusiastic. 

The only thing the imaginary man was missing was a pink birthmark over the eye, because that was uniquely Buck’s.

And, honestly, even in Eddie’s imagination that made the imaginary man feel distinctly lacking. 

“Alright, so it’s not about physical attraction or the fact that you’re the same gender. You’ve spoken about the close bond you and Buck share and that you ‘have each other’s backs’, so I’m going to surmise that it isn’t about trust,” Frank listed patiently, scrutinising Eddie. “So what is it that makes these romantic feelings towards Buck such a big deal for you then?”

Eddie was speechless: how could Frank not see what a big deal it was to be thinking about Buck in this way, to be considering him in a completely different role in his life?! 

“You must have a reason,” Frank prompted when Eddie had tried speaking a few times but nothing more than spluttering had come out.

“He’s – it’s not who we are,” Eddie finally said helplessly after another couple of failed attempts. “He’s family.”

“It would be expected for a romantic partner to eventually be considered family,” Frank pointed out mildly. 

Eddie seized onto the word ‘eventually’ as a lifeline for explaining his complex feelings. 

“Yeah, but – we’re already a family. He’s essentially Christopher’s other father.”

Frank raised an eyebrow at that statement. He opened his mouth to ask a question but Eddie barrelled on before he could, not wanting to get stuck on that point when he had already discussed it with Hen and Chim. 

“How could I take a chance on ruining that because of some selfish desire of mine?” he stressed, looking at Frank desperately, hoping he would give him an obvious answer that he must have simply overlooked because he was too caught up in the detail.

“Who said it would be ruined?” Frank said, far too reasonably, like he still wasn’t grasping the monumental consequences of what they were contemplating.

“It might not,” Eddie conceded, lowering his gaze to his hands, which were gripped together so tightly that his knuckles were white. “But if it does – the consequences – how it could change things. I can’t do that to Christopher.”

“Remember our discussions – about being allowed to want things for yourself and not just for Christopher, that the two don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” Frank prompted. 

“But this is bigger,” Eddie said emphatically. “Buck is –”

His best friend.  His confidante. His partner.

His co-parent.

“ – too important to risk when I have no idea if he feels the same way,” Eddie finished, slouching back in his chair. He forced his hands apart and rested them on the armchair instead, hoping that this conveyed the idea that he had come to a decision that he was alright with rather than revealing the truth of how much fear and anxiety was coursing through him. 

“It wouldn’t be fair to Christopher,” Eddie said again, nodding to himself. He repeated it in his head, trying to use the words to calm his racing heart. 

Frank leaned forward, looking at Eddie in a way that made him feel like he was being examined. 

It was far from his favourite feeling and he looked down at his knees to avoid the probing gaze.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Frank asked.

Eddie raised his head back up to meet Frank’s eyes, surprised at the direct question.

Frank rarely told him exactly what he thought; he preferred to pepper Eddie with questions until he reached a point of understanding in his own way. 

“Yes,” Eddie said, slightly suspicious, wondering what Frank’s motive was for veering away from his usual modus operandi. 

Frank nodded decisively, triggering a twinge of foreboding in Eddie’s gut. 

“I think you’re using Christopher as a shield,” he said bluntly.

“Wha –that’s – how –” Eddie spluttered, wanting to respond but unable to find the words to do so. 

“And it sounds like this has been happening for a while,” Frank continued as though Eddie hadn’t made a sound. “The co-parenting relationship the two of you have developed has served as a relationship proxy and having Christopher in the middle of it has allowed that to happen without either of you having to confront what that actually means for you as individuals. And even now that you are finally thinking about what it means, you’re still hiding behind Christopher to find an excuse not to do anything about it.” 

Eddie stayed silent, just staring at Frank, absolutely hating how much his words were resonating with him. 

“You’ve told me before that you don’t think there is anything on this earth that could drive you and Buck apart,” Frank said, more gently than the brisk and business-like tone of before. “If that is true, why do you think this would be the exception?” 

Frank seemed to actually want an answer, but the same thoughts he had already dismissed were still running through Eddie’s head. 

“If it doesn’t work – the consequences…” Eddie repeated anyway, addressing the armrest of Frank’s wheelchair. The thought of potentially not having Buck in his and Christopher’s lives was simply unfathomable.

He understood Frank’s point, kind of, but it still wasn’t something he could bring himself to risk doing to his son – or to himself.

Frank nodded, unsurprised. “My suggestion to you is to –”

“Talk to Buck about it,” Eddie interjected sarcastically, flopping back in his chair.

“No,” Frank chuckled, catching Eddie’s eyes knowingly when Eddie raised his head in surprise. “Talk to Christopher about it. See what he thinks, and see whether that makes you feel more confident to talk to Buck about it.”

Frank’s advice had led him here, standing in the doorway observing his son play videogames while he tried to gather up the courage to start a conversation about something that had the potential to change their lives irrevocably. 

Christopher whooped in joy, the screen showing his avatar celebrating over a smoking husk that must be another big boss in the game. 

Eddie knew that if he didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to interrupt and jump in now, then he would probably end up lost in thought until Christopher’s bedtime and then their nightly ritual of “Five more minutes, Dad” would sap anything that was left of his motivation.

And if there was one thought more torturous than having this conversation with his son, it was the idea of facing Buck during their shift in a couple of days when he still had no idea what to do with the revelation he’d been forced to have.  

“Hey, bud, can you pause the game for a minute?” Eddie asked lightly, pushing off the doorframe to join Chris on the couch.

“I finished the homework I had to do tonight,” Chris said warily, watching Eddie walk across the room suspiciously. Despite his words, he paused the game, dropping the controller on the table and slipping his headphones off to rest on his neck.

“I know,” Eddie said, giving Chris a reassuring smile – which must not have been all that reassuring, going by the way Chris’ suspicion turned into alarm. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

That didn’t lessen the alarm any. 

“Talk about what?” 

Eddie took a deep breath, reminding himself that even though it was the same topic, this discussion with his son didn’t have the same potential for catastrophe as talking about it with Buck would have. 

“Buck,” Eddie said simply, and then hastily added, “He’s alright, nothing happened to him!” when he saw Christopher’s face drop and realised that he had inadvertently made his son think that their favourite person had been injured yet again. 

Relief briefly flashed across Christopher’s face before it was quickly replaced by curiosity. “What about him then?” 

“I, uh, I wanted to ask – what does Buck mean to you?” Eddie said, the question coming out abruptly as he suddenly realised that coming right out and saying ‘what are your thoughts about me being in love with Buck’ might not be the best tactic. 

“What do you mean?” Chris asked, confused. 

“I mean – exactly that,” Eddie said, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a little helplessly, wishing that he had spent some time with Frank workshopping how to go about this conversation the therapist had recommended. “What is Buck to you?” 

“My other dad,” Christopher said.

And, look, Eddie had been expecting that answer. He knew that the relationship Buck had cultivated with Christopher over the years was parental. He liked the fact that it was parental. It was something he appreciated for the comfort it brought to his life and something he relied on to give him peace of mind about what might happen to his son should the worst ever happen to him. 

But the bluntness with which Christopher had stated it, the way that he was staring like he didn’t understand why Eddie was asking him a question where the answer was the most obvious thing in the world…

That part was unexpected, and so the response still left Eddie slack-jawed.

“Dad?” Christopher prompted, starting to look a little exasperated. 

“Sorry,” Eddie said automatically, shaking his head slightly as though it would knock the surprise straight out of his brain. “I, uh –” 

And then he stopped again, stuck on where to take the conversation from here. 

Did this give him the information he needed?

After all, could Eddie really justify shaking Christopher’s indomitable faith regarding Buck’s place in his life for his own selfish reasons?

His brain was screaming that he couldn’t. 

But simultaneously, Frank’s declaration that he was using his son as a shield was an uncomfortable nagging thought that wouldn’t leave him alone.

And, as he contemplated leaving the conversation there, the scenario of walking into his shift and having to talk with Buck as though he’d never had this revelation also played out in his head.

Hen and Chimney would give him looks that would serve as a constant reminder of the emotional roller coaster that these last two days had been. 

Buck would get confused as Eddie struggled to get over his feelings, and he would probably get stressed and worried that Eddie was going through something again. 

And Eddie might succeed at convincing him that he wasn’t having a full-blown mental crisis, which would alleviate Buck’s worry, but Buck knew him well enough that he would understand that Eddie was still going through something that he wasn’t willing to share with him. 

It was the image of Buck’s hurt face once he reached that conclusion that spurred him to keep going. 

If he was going to have to stab himself in the heart by causing that specific beaten-puppy-dog expression on Buck’s face, then he was going to make damn sure it was necessary. 

“Dad?” Christopher said again, this time with a long-suffering roll of his eyes accompanying the underlying exasperation. “Why are you asking me about Buck?” 

“I’ve – when I went to see Frank yesterday,” Eddie said, speaking slowly. “I spoke with him about what Buck means to me.”

Christopher sat up, his eyes wide, his expression devoid of his previous frustration. 

“And? What does he mean to you?” He stumbled over his words, speaking almost breathlessly, and he was looking at Eddie urgently, as though Eddie had said something far more serious than that he’d spoken with his therapist about his partner.

“He, uh…”

Eddie was caught so off guard by the reaction that his answer trailed off again. Christopher frowned and shuffled forward on the couch, taking his headset off his neck and throwing it carelessly behind him. 

Which was also puzzling, since it was something he basically never did unless Eddie or Buck were calling him for dinner.

“He what?” Chris urged.

“He is my partner,” Eddie said, forcing himself to ignore Christopher’s strange behaviour and get back on track. 

“Yeah, and?” Chris pushed eagerly. He wasn’t frowning anymore; he looked like he wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if he should commit to that reaction yet. 

“And he has been my partner in a lot of different ways, including at work and being your other parent,” Eddie continued, reaching out to ruffle Christopher’s hair. 

His son tolerated it a lot better than he normally would nowadays, only nodding to tell Eddie to keep going. 

Eddie chose his next words carefully, wanting to get across his feelings without accidentally making Chris think that there had been something going on earlier that he hadn’t been privy to. “And Frank thinks that maybe we’ve developed a – a type of relationship that acts like a romantic one even though it isn’t romantic. I was – I was thinking about that, and I wanted to know what you thought about it.” 

“Dad,” Chris harrumphed, unimpressed, and Eddie’s heart ached as it dropped to his stomach even though he had been anticipating this exact reaction.

Except Chris kept going. “Basically everyone knows that you guys act like you have a romantic relationship. All my friends know. All my teachers know. Jackson’s mom who lives in Alaska for half the year knows. Even the Geography sub that we’ve only had five times this year knows.”

“Uh –” Eddie said, stunned. Had he ever even met Jackson’s mom? Had Buck? He was positive that he’d never met the Geography sub although he did remember Buck saying something about messaging him to ask a clarifying question regarding Christopher’s homework so his partner had at least most likely interacted with them but would that have really led to an assumption about…

He probably shouldn’t let himself get sidetracked by that train of thought. 

“You – how do we act that makes it seem like we’re in a romantic relationship?”

Chris sighed. “You do everything together. You couldn’t look at him when he got hurt by the lightning and then you couldn’t stop looking at him when he got better. When Buck brings cupcakes to school, you tell everyone how amazing he is and Mrs Lorenzo said she thought your glare would kill that lady who tried to say his cupcake was too sweet. He’s the one you call or text if you’re waiting to pick me up. And Jackson’s mom said she wished she could meet someone who would look at her like you look at Buck.” 

That was… a much longer list than Eddie was expecting. 

Not wanting to let himself get too distracted by it, he tried to bring them back to what was meant to be the purpose of their talk. “Okay, that’s – fair enough. But it doesn’t tell me what your thoughts are.” 

“I think you should be boyfriends already,” Chris said matter-of-factly, seemingly unaware that the blase way he was approaching the topic was adding to his dad’s stupefaction. “It would make you happy and it would mean my parents would be together and both those things would make me happy.” 

“Right,” Eddie said faintly. He felt like he should prod that declaration a bit more but his brain couldn’t even come up with any argument to refute his son. “It sounds like you’ve thought about this before.”

“Yeah, Dad, we’re a family,” Chris said, giving him the look that was usually reserved for when Eddie made a comment that was hideously out of touch with his son’s pre-teen sensibilities. 

“Of course we are,” Eddie agreed, a little defensive because that part had never been in question. 

“So obviously I’ve thought about what it would be like if you guys got married and Buck lived here, like a family.” Christopher placed a stronger emphasis on those last few words.

Eddie, however, was preoccupied with the mention of marriage, which was threatening to send him spiralling into full blown hysteria. He didn’t even know if Buck saw their relationship the same way or if he was willing to consider taking those last few steps towards a romantic partnership!  

There was still plenty to contend with before they could entertain ideas of moving in together and marriage, no matter what images his traitorous brain was coming up with.

“Okay, I’m glad that you’re alright with this idea,” Eddie said calmly, hoping he could still temper some of Christopher’s enthusiasm. “But I don’t know if Buck feels the same way yet.”

“Of course he does,” Christopher said plainly, rolling his eyes again. “All the things I said about you are basically the same for Buck. He always wants to make you happy and he buys those mint biscuits you really like but you always say they’re too expensive and we don’t need them. And he ate your food even before it was good and told you it was tasty even though we had to sneak into the kitchen for orange juice to get the taste out afterwards. He bought you a heart pillow!” 

Christopher pulled the heart pillow that was leaning on the armrest next to him and held it with both hands to display it to Eddie. 

“That was a joke,” Eddie said weakly, snatching the pillow from Chris. 

“Then why did you display it on the couch?” Chris retorted, unimpressed. “It doesn’t even match the other pillows.” 

“I was – making a point to Buck that he couldn’t get to me,” Eddie said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He placed the pillow on the coffee table, hyper aware of how careful he was being but unable to bring himself to be careless with the damn pillow.

Christopher rolled his eyes. “You guys have been acting like you’re in love with each other for ages,” he said bluntly. “You just don’t pay enough attention to realise that you’re both doing it.”

“I swear you’ve said the same thing about your friends Toby and Ebony,” Eddie said, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Chris turned around to grope for his headset, returning his attention to the screen still displaying his paused game. 

It was decidedly shifty behaviour from his generally forthright son – and the last half-hour had certainly underscored that precise character trait of his – and Eddie’s suspicion was piqued. 

“Do Toby and Ebony even have a crush on each other?” he asked, suddenly sceptical about how perfectly Christopher’s friend’s situation seemed to align to how Chris apparently saw his and Buck’s relationship. 

“Um…”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at his son sternly, daring him to lie about it. 

“Kind of,” Chris said vaguely, fiddling with his headset. 

“What does that mean?” 

“Well… Toby is Jackson’s dog and Ebony is his neighbour's new dog,” Chris admitted. “But Toby humps Ebony every time he sees her, so it’s kind of like a crush. And Jackson’s dad and Ebony’s owners get surprised about it every single time, so they’re definitely oblivious to what’s going on between them.” He put up his hands in the universal ‘what-can-you-so’ gesture. “Desperate times called for desperate measures, Dad.”

For the sake of his sanity, Eddie decided not to even attempt asking any follow-up questions from that. 

Chapter Text

Buck had been perfectly content with the way he rationalised the distinctly smitten feeling that had spontaneously appeared at the end of the evening he and Eddie spent at the beach. 

After all, despite holding onto some vague hope that things with Natalia might still somehow work out, a large part of him had already realised that yet another one of his attempts at finding love was on the verge of crashing and burning. That resignation of the inevitable meant that he was already mourning the lost opportunity to finally get that connection he’d been yearning for since he had decided to go all-in with Abby and she had broken his heart. 

And Eddie was his partner, the person who knew him better than absolutely anyone and the person who had invited him into the his family with open arms, even to the point of sharing his son with him, so of course it made sense that something in Buck’s head and heart decided that he was worthy of a crush after spending a particularly intimate and enjoyable evening together. 

It probably meant that he couldn’t really make fun of Eddie about his lack of dating ability anymore, since Buck was now Exhibit A in proving that Eddie absolutely could make an incredibly solid impression on the romance front. 

But that was fine. The crush clearly had to be surface level ; those more serious feelings were related to how close he was with Eddie in general. That didn’t have to mean they were related or anything, which in turn meant that he didn’t have to challenge their status quo. 

And so long as they could continue along with that status quo, then Buck wouldn’t have to risk the family that had become an integral part of his very being and everything would be fine. 

It was a perfectly rational explanation that Buck was very happy with (that weird twisting in his stomach was from the leftover thai food he ate for breakfast, obviously).

Except then Bobby got involved. 

And not just involved, but he stirred some feelings that Buck had long since buried regarding his precise role in Christopher’s life and what that meant for him and Eddie. 

He had decided back then, during Eddie’s recovery, when it had been obvious that it wasn’t something that Eddie wanted to discuss or dwell on, that the will was merely solidifying the fact that they were family. And ‘family’ was a nebulous concept but it still meant that he belonged, that he was a part of them, and that was enough. He didn’t need an exact definition of what his role was.  

On the exceptionally rare occasions that he allowed himself to think about the implications of Eddie’s will, he always reminded himself of that conclusion. 

And he’d been content with that too! 

The alternative would be to challenge his place in their family which would inevitably precipitate some sort of change and that outcome threatened to destabilise everything. The prospect of that was simply unthinkable. 

Well. It had been unthinkable until Bobby forced him to think about it. 

He had been distinctly dad-like in his approach to it as well, making it seem like nothing bad could possibly come of opening this particular can of worms. 

Buck knew better, which was why he desperately wanted to shove any notion of actually doing it far back into the depths of his mind where it belonged. Unfortunately, his brain wasn’t really cooperating with that desire anymore and was instead plying him with what-ifs and reminding him that Bobby’s advice had never steered him wrong before. 

Which was how he had ended up staring at a single picture for over twenty minutes. 

He had started to go through his camera roll with the assumption and hope that seeing the photographic evidence of the amazing family he was lucky enough to be a part of would be enough to quell any idea that might risk his place in it. 

It worked for a bit: he scrolled through dozens of pictures, virtually all of them featuring Christopher prominently. A few of them made his heart soft, like the one of Chris he had taken when they were baking cookies together. Those were the ones which strengthened his resolve to ignore any tinges of romantic love. 

How could he possibly risk that infectious joy slowly disappearing out of his life?

A few of the pictures made him laugh, like the selfie he and Chris had taken with a sleeping Eddie in the background after they had given him a whipped cream beard and moustache since he had managed to snooze through the entirety of their scone making adventure. 

There were some pictures that were just of him and Eddie, mostly selfies they had taken at work although there was also one they’d taken during their walk to the beach the other week which had reminded him of how he’d felt after that whole… thing that wasn’t really a thing. 

It wasn’t like it was unusual for them to take photos which only featured the pair of them; he had photos in his reel of himself with Chim and Hen as well. Those served to underscore the fact that they were friends, very good friends of course, but simply friends who enjoyed spending time together and making funny faces when they were stuck in the middle of a boring shift or at a slow-moving scene. 

And then he got to the picture currently gracing his phone screen. 

It was about a year old and it was from the day that Buck had taken Chris and Eddie to the horse stables for the first time. Although the primary purpose of that trip had been to show how his actions had given Charlie the opportunity to thrive, Buck had loved seeing how enamoured Christopher had gotten with the horses. There were therefore several photos of him with the horses from that day, including one or two with Eddie.

But this particular picture was the only one in his camera reel from that occasion which also featured him. The worker showing Christopher around had insisted that he should also be in one and had stepped in to take his phone, shooing him towards Chris, Eddie, and Granatus the horse. 

Buck had obviously seen it once she handed the phone back to him and he hadn’t noticed anything unusual at the time. He was splitting his focus between Granatus and Christopher in the photo, since Chris had been avoiding touching the horse's snout and Buck wanted to show him that there was nothing to be afraid of, and Eddie was watching them fondly. 

Looking at it again now, with Bobby’s insistence that he had to also mean more to Eddie than he realised echoing in his head, he suddenly noticed… Eddie wasn’t looking at them. 

Buck was standing tall next to the horse, one arm on Granatus’ neck and the other wrapped around Christopher who, at the time, barely reached his chest. If Eddie had been looking at the both of them, his gaze should have been lower, so that he could properly take in his son.

But it wasn’t. 

He was looking directly at Buck’s face.  

His expression was full of that same loving fondness that he usually reserved for Christopher or his Abuela – Buck wanted to say that it proved his point that Eddie saw him as part of his family, except…

Buck remembered that period of time vividly and he remembered how difficult it had been for Eddie to muster up any sign of cheeriness. He had always tried, especially for Christopher in the hopes that it would reduce the boy’s worry for his father, but Buck had always been able to see the pain he was masking. 

And it wasn’t that he necessarily looked happy in the photo. There were still circles under his eyes and he was visibly wan and exhausted. But he was also relaxed and soft and smiling specifically at Buck as though it was specifically Buck that was making him content in that moment. 

It was the same kind of contentment that Buck had felt during countless evenings he’d spent with Eddie, most acutely at the beach. 

The kind of contentment that only came when you could be vulnerable with someone and you trusted, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they would cradle that vulnerability like the precious gift that it was. 

There was something mesmerising about seeing it depicted before his eyes – Buck couldn’t take his eyes off it even though his phone’s battery was depleting as he kept tapping the screen to stop it from darkening. 

That whole stable adventure had been a risk, too. Taylor had cautioned him against it, saying that reminding Eddie of the reason he had ended up on the street to be a deranged sniper’s first target would probably worsen his mental health struggles rather than help. 

Buck had persevered and done it anyway, convinced that the risk was worth taking if there was a strong enough chance that it might help Eddie come to terms with his trauma.

He was good at taking on risks for the benefit of others, especially for the sake of those that he loved.

He was also good at fighting for what he believed in. 

And the thing was, he might not be able to put words to it and define what his role in their little family was but he knew that he would be entwined with them forever in one way or another. 

Perhaps… perhaps he could take another risk and share at least some of these complex thoughts and feelings with Eddie.

Well, after he made sure that their kid would be fine with it first, of course. Buck certainly couldn’t consider changing Christopher’s entire world so completely out of the blue without speaking with him about it and gauging his comfort level first. 

Christopher usually loved it when he got to hang out with Buck during the evenings that the three of them spent together. He especially loved it when they got to sneak away briefly, just the two of them, and then later on conspiratorially whisper with each other in that way which always made his dad grumble about what they were plotting against him. 

They rarely planned any sort of prank or anything, so it worked well to keep Dad on his toes for those occasions where they did want to surprise him with one. 

Tonight, however, he had to work hard to stop himself from audibly groaning when Buck got up to follow him into his bedroom after he loudly announced that he was going to get started on his Math homework. 

What he actually wanted to do was get some privacy while he scrolled through instagram to find the latest pictures that he knew Penny was meant to be posting from her beach weekend. But that plan being curtailed wasn’t even the reason he wanted to groan and glare at Buck until he returned to the kitchen to join his dad. 

After that conversation with Dad, he’d been cautiously optimistic that he would finally tell Buck that he was in love with him. That optimism had grown as the days passed – he was pretty sure that the muffled talking he could hear coming from the bathroom the last two mornings while his dad was getting ready were him practising his speech in the mirror.

Which, like, super embarrassing, Dad, but hopefully it meant he would do it properly because Chris was this close to being able to have his family the exact way it was supposed to be. To be able to have Buck around all the time and being able to see his dad happy and relaxed (and no longer going off to have periodic dates with random women that Chris had to feign an interest in). 

However, Buck had been over for hours now and thus far there were no indications which suggested Dad was going to say a word. He had the heart eyes, of course, but those had been prominent whenever he was around Buck for years and Chris had given up on them being a sign of anything actually happening. 

He was so used to them that they didn’t even embarrass him anymore, although the time the carer who had replaced Carla for a week had gushed about how she wished she could find a relationship where a man would look at her with ‘half as much intensity’ was pretty vomit-inducing. 

And there was actually a bonus that came with the heart eyes: they worked to scare off all the other single parents at his school. In the beginning, he would get the occasional query during pick-up time about his dad and then when Buck started picking him up or dropping him off more often, he would get questions about him too. Thankfully, once Dad and Buck did that one bake sale together and everyone was exposed to Dad’s embarrassingly incessant heart eyes, those quickly petered out. Instead, he now got asked whether they’d gotten together yet which was its own kind of awkward and annoying because god if half the school knew they should be together already then why didn’t they?!

It was just his luck that Christopher had ended up stuck with the two most obtuse dads ever.

He might have been sanguine about it if he actually got to reap some benefits from their oblivious natures but unfortunately that tendency seemed to completely disappear whenever it was anything to do with him. Dad could sometimes be oblivious, admittedly, but that was generally because he got fixated on being overprotective. Once he got past that instinctive reaction, he was usually annoyingly aware of how Chris was feeling. And Buck was somehow always able to pinpoint exactly when something was going on with him and inevitably found precisely the best way to approach it in a way that didn’t ruffle Christopher’s feathers.

He was like that with Dad, too, and Christopher was so grateful that Buck had found a way to help during those terrifying months when Dad had been struggling and floundering and completely lost. He was sure that no-one else would have been able to help Dad like Buck did. He definitely knew that no-one else would have been able to make Chris feel safe and secure like Buck did as he tried to navigate the most tumultuous and scary time in his life since his mom died. 

Buck was the exact puzzle piece their family needed in order to be complete, they just needed to be able to actually insert the damn piece into the puzzle already. 

Christopher had hoped that by walking away and letting them have some alone time, it would encourage Dad to take the opportunity to confess his feelings already. He’d even specifically chosen to use math as the excuse since Buck’s lightning powers had worn off and he was hopelessly bad at it again so Chris could easily shoot down his offer to help without arousing suspicion. 

Except Buck followed him to his room anyway, ruining the whole point. 

“Sorry to interrupt what I’m sure will be very riveting homework time, bud,” Buck said, a knowing smile on his face which suggested he knew that homework was not in his plans. 

Christopher didn’t want to let him have the win so he took a seat at his desk instead of his bed to double down on the story. 

“But I was hoping you and I could have a bit of a chat.” Buck sat down on his bed, his hands clasped together over the top of his jiggling knees. 

He looked nervous, which was weird. Buck was hardly ever nervous; he was way too amazing and brave. He hadn’t even flinched when the tsunami happened, just went ahead and saved heaps of people like it was another ordinary day at work. The only times Chris had seen him get nervous and scared was when something had happened to his dad and it couldn’t be that, since they’d left him in the living room. 

“Chat about what?” Chris asked suspiciously, getting a wave of deja vu. 

“Your, uh –” Buck swallowed hard, looking down at his hands before looking up at Chris determinedly. “Your dad.”

“My dad,” Chris said flatly, the sense of deja vu only growing stronger. 

“Yeah, I’ve – I’ve been thinking about what he means to me recently,” Buck explained slowly.

Unbelievable. 

Christopher had been working on trying to get them to admit to their feelings for almost a year and they both decided to do some soul-searching at the exact same time?! Couldn’t one of them have worked it out, like, six months ago at least so he could have been spared trying to come up with ever more insane plans to make them understand what was right under their noses. 

“And what you mean to me as well, obviously,” Buck added, looking at Christopher intently. “I hope you know how much I love you, Chris. Getting to be a part of your life is such a privilege and is one of the best things in my life. I really hope – I really want you to know that whatever happens, you always come first.” 

“You’re my dad, Buck, of course I know all that,” Christopher scoffed impatiently. He was probably letting through a bit more of his exasperation than he normally would but he felt like he deserved it in this situation. And Buck was less of a stickler for ‘having a respectful tone’ than Dad was anyway, so he knew he would get away with it. 

“Uh –” 

Buck looked taken aback, which was ridiculous because that part of their family was well established and should have been even more obvious. 

Right?

For the first time, a twinge of insecurity appeared. Had Chris gone a step too far by calling Buck his dad to his face? It wasn’t a title he used when speaking to Buck – it would be too confusing to call them both ‘Dad’ and ‘his Buck’ had simply become synonymous with ‘Dad’ for him over the years anyway – but it was one he used often when talking about Buck. 

Because he was Christopher’s other dad. He gave advice and he looked after him and he helped and, most importantly, he was always there and willing to step up with an offer of help and he always, always offered Christopher a safe place, whether his need for one was literal or metaphorical. 

He found himself holding his breath, frozen in place and unable to tear his gaze away from Buck’s widened eyes as he waited for him to find the words he wanted to say. 

(Buck’s brain was short-circuiting as it tried to comprehend the fact that he had just been handed half of what he wanted on a silver platter. 

To have Christopher claim him as a dad, as easily as he would claim that English was his favourite subject, was incredible and brilliant and so monumental that it deserved to be commemorated with some fireworks or something equally as big. 

At the same time, it somehow also calmed and eased something deep inside Buck, like he had finally been given permission to entirely lean into a role he had taken on years ago and been guarding preciously ever since. 

It was a permission that he was stunned to have been granted so effortlessly but he knew what it was like to have to wait for validation and Christopher absolutely didn’t deserve to suffer even a single moment of doubt so he fought through his stunned state to affirm his claim.)

“I guess I should amend my statement,” Buck said – his voice was soft and calm, like it always was when he was calming Chris down, and the anxious buzzing in Chris’ head rose to a crescendo. Thankfully, before he could actually fall into a panic, Buck kept going. “It is a privilege to have a kid like you and getting to have that role in your life – getting to be one of your dads – is definitely one of the best things about mine.” 

Chris relaxed in the chair, the anxiety muted and his confidence restored. He thought he’d managed to keep his brief moment of uncertainty hidden but Buck left his hand on the back of his neck after he ruffled his hair which meant he could probably tell that Chris could do with that additional bit of grounding right now. 

He felt like he should complain, because he wasn’t a kid anymore, but Buck’s warm hand and the proximity of his rock-solid presence was chasing away those last shreds of insecurity so he allowed it. This one time. 

“Okay, so you know what I mean to you,” Chris said matter-of-factly, wanting to get them back on track. It would be just his luck if his dads had a realisation at the same time and then both decided that they should wait longer before acting on it. “What about Dad, then?” 

“Well, I, uh, I really like your dad,” Buck said, ducking his head. “He’s a good partner who always has my back, no matter what, and he’s probably my favourite person after you even if he does have terrible taste in expensive biscuits.” 

“You always buy him those biscuits anyway,” Chris pointed out, almost wanting to laugh that this was the example that came up. 

Buck shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “They make your dad happy.” 

“And you love him, so making him happy makes you happy.”

Buck blinked at him in surprise. “I, uh, I guess you could put it like that.” He took in another deep breath, his hand slipping off Chris’ neck so could press them together tightly, like he thought they might tremble if he didn’t. “Look, I don’t know if your dad might feel the same –”

Christopher somehow managed to stop himself from screaming “of course he does!!” but it was a close thing. 

“But I think it’s a topic I want to explore with him. First, though, I wanted to make sure it would be okay with you if I did that.” 

As though Christopher would have ever said no, even if he hadn’t been working towards literally this exact outcome. 

However, instead of saying yes, he huffed, leaned back in his chair and said, “Did you know Dad hates oat milk?”

“No, I – I actually didn’t,” Buck said, surprised and tense at the non-sequitur. “Since when?” He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling in thought, like he was trying to remember the last time he’d had oat milk in the Diaz house. 

The answer was last week. 

“He’s always hated it.” 

Buck examined Chris bemusedly, apparently recognising that there was more to the question than he first thought but unaware of now how to solve the riddle to work out what that ‘more’ was. “Then why would he buy it?” he asked after a few seconds. 

“Because you like it and it makes you happy,” Christopher said, staring at Buck balefully.

“Oh…” 

After a minute, he cleared his throat and said, “Is that, uh, you giving me permission to…”

“Go talk to Dad, Buck,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. This time he wanted to sound more exasperated but it came out as fond instead. 

His dads were ridiculous but he wouldn’t have them any other way. 

“Thanks, kid,” Buck said, leaning in to drop a kiss on Christopher’s head. “You’re the best of all of us, you know.” 

After his experience this week, he knew he was definitely the best at actually understanding feelings and love. 

Still. It might have taken them a while, but both Dad and Buck had gotten there separately. He could feel his excitement building, because surely that meant the ball actually would start rolling today and everything else would slot into place extremely soon. 

He flopped down on his bed, rolling around so that he was on his back looking at the ceiling. He held his phone, entering the camera app and switching it over to selfie mode. He positioned it above him and carefully angled the phone and practised a few different faces, trying to decide whether he should go with ‘shocked’ or ‘satisfied.’

‘Shocked’ seemed like it was a lot easier to exaggerate and get across his point, so he went with that and snapped a photo once he was satisfied with his expression. He typed in the caption (‘I think my dads have finally got their acts together?!’) and sent it to the large group chat he and his friends all shared. 

The responses started filtering through quickly; the first few were all different variations of a shocked or disbelieving emoji. Emily wrote ‘oh my god did using the dogs actually work?!’ and then Marcus sent ‘we bow down to your genius well done.’

Jackson’s response came in two parts:

I can’t believe it! and then a few seconds later, lol neither can my mom she said you should get proof that it definitely happened. 

Chris sat up and looked at his closed bedroom door consideringly. 

Proof sounded like an excellent idea, actually. 

Eddie was silently cursing at himself as he scrubbed at the dishes from their dinner. 

He’d had a spurt of reckless courage after his discussion with Christopher about Buck’s place in their lives – and the ensuing realisation that Eddie’s own feelings about it were not quite as platonic as he’d thought – and had texted Buck telling him to spend today with them, adding the excuse that he wanted to try a new recipe to offset anything weird about the request. 

Not that inviting Buck over would ever be weird, considering they were over at each other’s places constantly. 

Right?

(He asked Christopher that exact question, just to be sure, and that was the point that his son rolled his eyes at him and returned to his video game with the widest and smuggest grin that Eddie had ever seen on his son’s face.

Which was fine, because Buck responded with his customary 👍😁 so he must not have picked up any strange or unusual vibes.

That time, Eddie resisted the urge to ask Christopher for confirmation.)

Of course, then Eddie went into the kitchen, looked in his fridge, and promptly started to panic because he didn’t actually have a new recipe to try. Starting off with a lie when he was planning on telling his partner that he wanted him to be a different kind of partner didn’t seem like it would be a great harbinger of success.  

At first it seemed like an easy thing to fix – he simply picked the first recipe that came up when he googled ‘things to cook for your crush’ and thoroughly analysed it to make sure it was something he was capable of cooking.

Except then he woke up at two in the morning with anxiety invading his brain because wasn’t that such a thoughtless way to pick a recipe?! It was Buck, who always went above and beyond for them, and Eddie was going to be trying to get him to go beyond the platonic with some generic recipe that he’d found after thirty seconds of googling? 

So he switched on his lamp and proceeded to spend the next hour painstakingly brainstorming Buck’s favourite foods and scrolling through endless recipe blogs that apparently needed to pair every single recipe with the author’s life story. 

He eventually picked something that he was sure Buck would love: it was healthy, it was fresh, it was a little bit spicy.

It also happened to be the original recipe he’d picked after his thirty seconds of googling yesterday… but at least this time he could confidently say that he had a solid reason for the choice! And he had found a recipe for a Spiced Molten Chocolate Cake that would definitely make Buck’s mouth water, so it wasn’t like his research was entirely for naught. 

Eddie spent every spare moment the next day preparing himself for the conversation he wanted to have. For his confession – and wasn’t that a word that engendered plenty more anxiety. He gave himself some internal pep talks, he formulated a speech in his head and then scrapped it because it was far too formal and then he grabbed a notepad instead to scribble down some key points he wanted to make sure he covered. 

He even got to the point where he practised what he was going to say in front of the mirror – not that he would ever admit that part to anyone. 

When Buck texted that he was on his way over, Eddie promised himself that he would confess his feelings before they sat down for dinner. He didn’t want the anticipation hovering over his head while they all ate since he was sure Buck would notice that his mind was preoccupied with something once they were sitting opposite each other. 

But he obviously couldn’t do it when Buck first entered the house. That would blindside him which was totally unfair. Not to mention that Christopher wouldn’t be very impressed if he didn’t get to talk to his Buck when he first arrived. 

And then Buck and Chris got into such an animated discussion about the book that Buck had recommended to him – something to do with a boy genius and police fairies, which Eddie thought sounded weird but Buck claimed that it was one of the only series that he had enjoyed reading growing up – and Eddie couldn’t possibly interrupt them. 

After that, Buck insisted that he had “super secret squirrel things” that he had to talk to Christopher about and followed the boy to his bedroom after he declared that he wanted to get started on his homework. 

He was definitely keen to know what that was related to but he decided to ignore his curiosity in favour of using the opportunity to psych himself up for The Confession since he figured Chris would stay in his room after their plotting and it would be the perfect opening for Eddie to say what he wanted to say.

Except Buck looked perturbed when he walked out of Christopher’s room and that did not seem very conducive to a successful outcome to The Confession. So, instead of asking Buck to talk, he asked, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Buck answered, even though he was still frowning. “I swear that kid – I can’t decide if he’s the most emotionally mature person I’ve ever met or the sassiest person I’ve ever met.” 

Eddie let out a startled laugh. “I feel like it’s probably both,” he said candidly. Remembering Christopher’s little Toby and Ebony plot along with his attitude to Eddie’s tentative questioning, he added, “I swear he’s definitely getting sassier by the day.”

“Tell me about it,” Buck agreed fervently. 

They spent another twenty minutes lamenting how quickly Christopher was growing up right before their eyes. Eddie tried to find an opportunity to broach The Topic but, well, it didn’t seem natural and then it was time to cook dinner. He couldn’t cook and have such a serious conversation at the same time – that was a surefire way to ruin the meal and that would be a terrible way to potentially start a new phase of their partnership! 

Buck tried to insist on helping him but Eddie was a lot firmer in his insistence that Buck relax instead. He tried to offer Buck a beer but he said no and Eddie also decided to abstain because he didn’t want there to be any way for Buck to think that alcohol was fuelling him when he did finally make The Confession. 

Eddie made a concerted effort not to allow his annoyance with himself over putting it off impact the flow of their conversation while he cooked. He thought he’d been doing an alright job but for some reason the atmosphere in the kitchen felt like it was getting weirdly charged. 

Chris exited his room when they were serving dinner – Buck hadn’t even given Eddie the opportunity to say no to helping with that part – and flicked his gaze between the two of them like he was trying to discern if something had changed. 

“Did you guys talk?” His fingers were drumming against his phone, which he was holding even though he knew electronics weren’t allowed at the dinner table. 

“Yeah, about you,” Eddie jumped in hastily before Buck could reply. He was aiming for teasing but he had a feeling he was veering a little too close to desperate as he tried to make sure Buck wouldn’t read anything into what should have been an innocent question. 

Chris stared at them for a moment and then heaved a loud sigh, shoving his phone in his pocket and muttering something under his breath before joining them.

And now Eddie also had to contend with the fact that he was disappointing his son, which was the icing on this whole disaster really. Eddie tried to be an active participant in the dinner conversations but they kept lapsing into silence anyway so he was positive that he had completely failed at keeping things normal and carefully neutral. 

Christopher definitely noticed and he looked incredibly annoyed about it which fulled Eddie’s guilt even further. He had a vague hope that maybe Buck hadn’t noticed but he looked so awkward during dinner that he knew the hope was in vain. 

Eddie could only curse at himself: he had wanted to prove to Buck that he wanted more and instead he had probably inadvertently convinced his partner that he was annoyed at him over something.

Which was how he had gotten here, scrubbing at the dishes, fuming at himself for screwing the entire thing up despite days of preparation. 

“Hey.” 

Buck was hovering in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, his hands awkwardly stuffed in his pants pocket. Eddie cursed internally again; he couldn’t remember the last time Buck had looked so uncomfortable in his space. 

“Hey. Did you like the dish?” Eddie asked, desperate to say something normal so that Buck would think everything was totally fine. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Of course, it was great,” Buck replied, a little taken aback at the question.

Which of course he would be, because he had praised it far more than Eddie deserved while they had been eating. It was a stupid question for him to ask and definitely failed to make anything seem normal. Quite the opposite, as the air between seemed to get heavier with tension the longer they stared at each other across the kitchen. 

“I’m trying out a spiced chocolate cake recipe as well. It’s in the oven,” Eddie said, soapy water flinging from his hands as he gestured at said appliance. 

Buck’s eyes followed the motion. “The oven that isn’t on?” he asked, puzzled and amused. 

Eddie’s eyes snapped to the indicator panel on his oven.

“Fuck,” he said emphatically, staring in betrayal at the definitely very inactive appliance. 

Like he really needed something else to go wrong tonight. 

Buck waved him away when he went to grab a towel to dry his hands, turning to the stupid oven himself. “What temperature does it need?”

“320, for 15 minutes. Thanks.” 

“Why are you making dessert on a weeknight anyway?” Buck prodded curiously, turning back to face Eddie after setting the temperature and the timer. “Chris have some sort of achievement that I missed?” 

“As if you would ever,” Eddie scoffed fondly, his frustration at his ineptitude receding at the way Buck blushed and ducked at that. “No, I, uh, just felt like trying it. For reasons.”

“Right…” Buck raised an eyebrow at the vague answer but thankfully didn’t keep pushing. 

Eddie almost wished he would, so that he would be given an opening for The Confession. 

Although – did he really need more of an opening? More importantly, did he really want to suffer through an awkward dessert because he was too much of a coward to just say what he wanted to say?

(It could very well still get awkward because, while Chris was amazingly mature and intelligent, he was still an 11 year old boy and he didn’t actually know for sure that Buck’s feelings matched Eddie’s.

But Eddie was choosing to shove that eventuality somewhere in the deep dark depths of his mind.)

“I wanted to talk to you about something –” 

Almost at the exact same moment, Buck said, “Hey, I, uh, can I ask you something?” 

They stared at each other in surprise for a beat, and then once again spoke almost completely in sync. 

“You go first.”

“You go ahead.” 

They both chuckled awkwardly before Eddie reiterated, “You should go first.”

“Are you sure?” Buck asked uncertainly, chewing his lip. “I feel like yours will probably be simpler.” 

“I doubt it,” Eddie muttered under his breath. More loudly, he said, “No, seriously, you go ahead.” 

He had a feeling that Buck was going to ask about Eddie’s weird behaviour today and potentially even question whether Eddie was mad at him for something. He both wanted to get that notion fully out of Buck’s head before he attempted to broach his own topic and he also thought it could be a good segue into it. 

Buck’s actual question was so unexpected that Eddie was inexplicably winded by it. 

“Why did you put me in your will?”

“My – what?” 

Eddie stared at Buck, hoping he would say more to clarify why he was asking a question that was so entirely out of left field. 

Buck was staring at him in return, full of earnestness, like he didn’t think more context needed to be provided. 

“Why did I put you in my will?” Eddie repeated, half-hoping it would prompt Buck to say more. 

All he got was a nod. 

So Eddie started with the most fundamental truth: “Well, you love Christopher.” 

“Of course I do,” Buck said instantly. He ducked his head, mostly obscuring the glowing smile that had appeared, and Eddie suddenly had a pretty good idea of what Buck and Christopher must have spoken about. “But – everyone loves Christopher. And I know you said that I was the one who would fight for him –”

“You would,” Eddie said unequivocally. “The same way you fought for me last year when I was going through hell. You climbed right down there with me and then dragged me out inch by fucking inch. And I know that no matter how upset you’d be about me dying, you would do the same thing for him in that scenario too.” 

Buck averted his eyes, his jaw set. “I’d be devastated,” he corrected, voice a little hoarse. “But yes, of course I would fight for him.” 

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat at the way Buck sounded, his mind warring between hope that it confirmed Christopher’s theory that Buck also loved him and guilt-laden sadness at how he reacted to the thought of Eddie’s potential death. 

But there was also something else in Buck’s face that was telling him that he needed to strengthen his point further – something about the way that Buck had jumped straight to the point about ‘fighting’ rather than focusing on the foundational point that Eddie had first made, the point that he was sure Christopher would have reinforced when they spoke.

He certainly wasn’t about to let Buck think that there were any differences in the way he and Chris viewed Buck’s role in Christopher’s life. 

“Of course you would,” Eddie agreed, tilting his head to catch Buck’s eyes properly. “But you’re also the only person who loves him as much as I love him. And he knows that too. He trusts you as his second dad. That’s what’s most important to me.”

Buck’s eyes were wide and shining, so incredibly similar to the first time they’d had this conversation. 

Eddie didn’t actually remember all the details of it – he’d been on so many painkillers at the time in preparation for the journey home that it had made his memory fussy. 

But he remembered Buck’s eyes and he remembered Buck’s vulnerability. 

He had assumed that meant that Buck understood what he was trying to express by divulging the secret he’d originally thought he would be taking to his grave: that he was wanted and he was needed because he was an essential member of their lives purely because of the boundless love he offered them so freely. 

In hindsight, considering this conversation, perhaps he should have been even more explicit about it. 

“You – Chris –” Buck’s voice cracked and he had to pause to clear his throat. “You think of me as his second dad?” 

“Of course,” Eddie said, almost wanting to chuckle because it seemed ludicrous that he had to spell out something so obvious. “Buck, we’re a family. You’ve been acting like his second dad for – I don’t even know how long anymore. And I’m guessing he told you that too.”

The glowing smile appeared again, proving Eddie’s hunch. 

“And you’ve spoiled me so much that of course I’ve come to rely on you that way.”  He intended for that last sentence to be a way of lightening the mood but Buck’s eyes got even shinier instead. 

“I know that it’s how I act.” Buck flicked his gaze over to Christopher’s school diary lying on the kitchen table – the diary that held his signature on more than a few notes to the school – and back to Eddie. “It’s – it’s how I feel; of course it is, he’s the greatest kid in the world. It’s a complete privilege to be able to be a part of his life in whatever way I can be and I am so incredibly lucky that you both let me have such a big role. And you’re right, he did tell me that he thinks of me that way too. But I just – I know I’m not you. I’m the back-up, so until now I never let myself think that I could claim to be his – his dad.” He said the last word reverently, like it was something so incredible and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be able to claim it. 

“Alright, well to be clear, you’re his Buck, not the back-up,” Eddie said flatly, not impressed by the way that wording minimised Buck’s value and importance. 

“Yeah, but –”

“Nope, no buts.” Eddie stared at Buck pointedly until he relented and closed his mouth, his cheeks going pink. “You know, I’m sure that if you asked him, he would tell you that ‘Buck’ means the same thing as ‘dad’ to him.” 

The pink in Buck’s cheek got even deeper but Eddie was glad to see a small, proud smile grace his partner’s face. Buck deserved to know how essential a piece he was in their family – which was why Eddie had decided to tell him about his will in the first place. He supposed in hindsight that it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that he didn’t manage to articulate himself properly on the same day he was discharged after getting shot.

“So we’re – we’re co-parenting partners?” Buck said, glancing back up at Eddie. The pink in his cheeks hadn’t faded yet but his eyes were clear. He nodded, shoving his hands back in his pocket. 

The answer was ‘yes’, obviously, but Eddie hesitated before he said it. 

This unexpected tangent had almost managed to make him forget their topic that he wanted to bring up. Was it even the right time to do so anymore? This conversation was already emotionally heavy, and Buck must have had an equally heavy talk with Christopher earlier as well, so was it fair for him to force Buck to deal with yet another one so quickly? 

They had certainly made progress – Buck would reflect on both those discussions and hopefully feel a lot more confident regarding his role in Christopher’s life. Wasn’t that enough for now? After all, it was clearly the most important aspect of their little family. 

“I think you’re using Christopher as a shield.”

Frank’s blunt words echoed in his head, warring with that instinct to procrastinate once more. 

He would be doing it again if he let it go now, wouldn’t he? Hiding behind the love they both shared for their child and pretending that was all there was to it. 

That wasn’t fair either. 

Not to Buck and not to Eddie. 

“This is actually what I spoke to Frank earlier in the week,” Eddie admitted, slouching against the kitchen counter. 

It was obviously not the response Buck was expecting: he blinked at Eddie in surprise, visibly taken aback. “The emergency session you had with Frank was about us being co-parents?” 

“No – well, sort of,” Eddie amended. He fixated on a specific spot on Buck’s sweater – the amazingly tight-fitted sweater – so that he had something to focus on that wasn’t Buck’s face. At Buck’s confusion he expanded, “We did talk about Christopher and how you’re his other parent. But then we talked about what that means for us.” 

Buck exhaled a long breath, looking down briefly to gather his thoughts. He caught Eddie’s puzzled gaze and said ruefully, “Bobby asked me the same thing. When we were, uh, talking about Christopher and your will.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. But he knew it would be so much harder for Buck to share any insights he’d gleaned from his conversation first, given his insecurities about losing those he cared for because he asked for too much. It was exactly the same thing that had happened with regard to Christopher: Buck couldn’t bring himself to claim the relationship first. 

He loved Buck too much to force him to go through that. The fact that he was here and had been willing to bring up at least one aspect of what he’d talked with Bobby had to be enough a sign that things weren’t about to blow up in Eddie’s face.

“And then I talked to Christopher about us as well,” Eddie said, deciding to continue as though Buck hadn’t said anything. “And let me tell you, your point before about how emotionally mature he is? One hundred percent accurate.”

Buck chuckled quietly, muttering a quiet “yeah” under his breath. 

There was a sense of anticipation growing between them, like they both knew that they were about to take a step forward that would change things forever. 

It was the exact moment that Eddie had been painstakingly preparing for. It was the perfect opportunity to say the speech that he had practised delivering in the mirror. 

All of it flew out of his head. 

There was only one set of words that were right for this moment.

“You are my co-parenting partner. But you are so much more than that. You are everything to me.”

Buck’s eyes went glassy again, his mouth dropping open slightly at the sincere and heartfelt declaration.

“That means I love you, for the record,” Eddie added, not wanting there to be any confusion this time. The words came so much more easily than he had ever imagined. 

“You can’t just say that,” Buck said plaintively, hiding his face in his hand. 

“Yeah I can,” Eddie rebutted lightly, smiling. Buck hadn’t said it back yet but he still somehow felt so much lighter. Now that it was out in the universe, he realised he simply couldn’t fathom the idea that he and Buck weren’t on the same page. 

They were partners, they were always on the same page. Synchronicity was simply a core part of their being. 

Sure enough – “You’re my partner,” Buck said, saying the word ‘partner’ with the same reverence he’d used with ‘dad’ earlier. “The exact kind of partner I always dreamed of having. Except that I never let myself dream that I could have more with you even though I think I’ve been in love with you for a very long time.”

They locked eyes, that growing anticipation tightening like a taut violin string about to snap. 

And then the oven timer started beeping. 

“That’s the cake,” Eddie said unnecessarily, not moving from his spot. 

“Who cares,” Buck replied, also not moving.

“It’ll burn.”

“Yeah, but I really want to kiss you right now.” 

“Yeah, that’s – that’s the better choice,” Eddie agreed, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in to meet Buck’s lips. 

It should have felt strange to kiss the man who, up until last week, he’d been convinced he had a purely platonic partnership with. 

But, just like almost everything with Buck, it simply felt natural and exactly right. 

The first kiss was chaste, like they were testing the waters, but Buck went back for the next within seconds of them drawing apart. They wrapped their arms around each other as they languished in a longer, drawn-out kiss, content to exist together despite the noisy alarm still beeping behind them. 

It was a feeling unlike any other Eddie had ever experienced. It wasn’t simply about the love, because, as complicated as their relationship was, he had loved Shannon. But being with her hadn’t given him this feeling of pure safety and – and, well, partnership.  

The loud click of a camera shutter was what finally drew them apart. 

They were both disoriented at the unexpected noise, looking around at each other and the oven, trying to work out where it had come from. A giggle at the doorway drew their attention there. 

“It’s about time,” Christopher gloated, grinning at them. “I told you so.” 

“Did you just take a photo of us?” Eddie asked suspiciously, eyeing off the phone Christopher was holding. 

“After how long you’ve kept me waiting, I deserve to have evidence that you finally worked it out,” Chris announced, flipping his phone around to show them the picture he’d taken. 

Eddie figured that he would have simply snapped it straight on but it was actually taken in selfie-mode. Christopher was in the foreground, making a thumbs up with the hand not holding the phone. Buck and Eddie could be seen in the background; the awkward side-on angle didn’t really allow the viewer to see either of their faces properly but it was still obvious that they were kissing. 

It was far from a perfect picture. It was slightly blurry, likely because Christopher hadn’t been able to keep his balance perfectly while taking the shot, and the angle was wonky, and it didn’t capture the depth of what Buck and Eddie were feeling. 

But it heralded a new beginning for their family, so Eddie thought it was pretty perfect anyway and he absolutely wanted to get a copy printed so that he could slip it into his wallet. 

Buck seemed to agree with his sentiment. “Can you send it to me?” he asked, leaning against Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Sure,” Chris said with a crafty grin that triggered alarm bells in Eddie’s head. 

“Chris, what are you planning to do with that photo?” Eddie said intently, standing upright, gripping Buck’s hand to indicate that he didn’t want to displace him. 

“I think the cake is burning,” Chris called over his shoulder as he walked back to his room, which was in no way, shape or form an answer. 

(The actual answer came twenty minutes later, while they were picking through the burnt not-so-lava cakes and stealing more kisses as they tried to work out whether they could salvage anything. 

It came in the form of both their phones starting to ping continuously with text message notifications.)

Chapter Text

“Am I the first person who gets to say congratulations in person?” Bobby asked, holding the door open for Buck, Eddie and Christopher to enter. He raised his eyebrow at Buck, who came in last, knowing full well that he was exuding the feeling of a smug ‘I told you so’. 

Buck rolled his eyes and made a face at Bobby while Eddie responded, oblivious to the byplay happening behind him. 

“Technically yes, since Chris was too busy sending that picture off to what seems to have been every single person on his contact list,” he said dryly, giving his son an unimpressed look of his own. 

“Every single person?” Bobby said, curious at the wording. He knew Chris had sent it to both Harry and May; it was then passed onto their fire family by May and Chimney had subsequently added it to their team groupchat so that they could all “respond appropriately!!11!” Bobby had still texted both Buck and Eddie separately, not wanting his message to get lost in the deluge of notifications that was coming through the group chat, which didn’t stop pinging for close to two hours. 

“Yeah, we had an interesting experience at school pick-up yesterday,” Buck confided, shaking his head.

“Really? Because the impression I got was that no one at Durand would be surprised by that picture,” Bobby said, recalling his own interaction with the administrative staff when he needed to pick Chris up. 

The idea of being ‘Grandpa’ was still equal parts overwhelming and dumbfounding but he liked to think he was getting used to the concept. 

(Athena, who had watched him frantically flick through recipe books and then suffered through a two-hour long panicked spiel this morning about how he didn’t know what Christopher’s favourite dessert was, begged to differ.) 

“What do you mean?” Buck asked, slightly alarmed. He poked Chris lightly with the platter of cupcakes he was holding, giving him a questioning look. 

Chris shrugged innocently. “I always told them you were my Buck. They stopped asking me questions about it after a while. The admin people stopped even quicker.” 

“We should get inside,” Eddie said, a little too loudly and with a tinge of desperation. 

They all turned to him expectantly, even Christopher. Buck added a prompting, “Eddie…”

“They’ll be waiting for us.” Eddie visibly wilted when none of them moved forward, clearly waiting for him to cave, which he did a few seconds later, exclaiming, “I told them you were my partner, okay.” 

“That’s what I said to them as well,” Buck agreed. “Why would that mean that they wouldn’t be surprised that we started a romantic relationship?”

“Buck, you realise that the connotations of ‘partner’ is a little different outside of first responder circles,” Bobby said, torn between disbelief and fond amusement that Buck seemed genuinely surprised by that notion. He loved the kid but god he could be a little clueless sometimes. 

(He’d made a similar observation when he and Athena had spoken about his breakfast conversation with Buck. 

“Like father, like son,” was her pointed response.)

“And I may not have made a big effort to challenge any of those assumptions…” Eddie ducked his head sheepishly, adding in a mumble, “Or made any effort at all, I guess.” 

“You let them think we were already together?” Buck said incredulously. 

“It was the easiest way to make sure you had all the rights to deal with the school about Christopher,” Eddie said defensively. 

“Wouldn’t there have been paperwork anyway?” Bobby prodded curiously.

“Like I said, I didn’t ask questions… they gave me a document that they said would give Buck the permissions he needed and I signed it.” Eddie shrugged, apparently far less chagrined about that aspect of the situation. 

“I always tell my teachers you’re my other dad,” Chris said confidently, grinning up at Buck with sparkling eyes which revealed that he knew the exact impact his words would have. 

Buck made a strangled noise at the back of his throat and Bobby finally cracked, letting out the laughter he had been trying to suppress.

He had to admit, it was somewhat satisfying to know that there was an aspect to this whole complex situation that Buck hadn’t even been aware of. It made him feel like he hadn’t been purposefully kept on the periphery. 

“One day, we’re going to have to do a family dinner and you will have to share the whole story of all this with Athena and I,” Bobby said. “And May will probably insist on joining as well.” He decided to take the platter of cupcakes that Buck was holding before they made their way down the stairs, since the kid still looked a little too out of it to trust him with it.

Eddie sent him a knowing look, apparently picking up on the specific way Bobby had chosen to word the invitation. “Oh, wait until you hear the story of Toby and Ebony,” he said, directing the pointed comment at his son. 

“Christopher’s friends?” Buck asked, puzzled, his confusion drawing him out of his stunned state. 

“Yeah, ‘friends’,” Eddie repeated sarcastically, heavily emphasising the word.

They could now see most of the party attendees through the large windows, which gave Christopher the opportunity to announce, “I’m going to join Harry and Denny with the bowling,” and promptly scurry through the open door into the backyard.

“Are they not friends?” Buck asked Eddie, still confused. 

“I am going to let our child explain that one.” When Buck made the strange strangled noise again, he added, amused, “We’ve spoken about this!” 

“Becoming a father overnight is going to take a minute to get used to,” Buck said defensively. 

Bobby came back around to join them, having dropped the cupcakes with the plethora of desserts he’d made for the evening. “Pretty sure it wasn’t overnight, kid,” he said, clapping Buck’s shoulder. Ignoring Buck’s pout, he nudged them through to the backyard so they could join everyone.

“Well hello there lovebirds,” Athena said, drawing everyone’s attention to them. She rose from the table along with Beatrice and Samuel to greet them properly. 

“Now, I hope you’re not planning on regaling us with a real live show – that picture was more than enough,” Chimney called from across the garden where he was sitting around a table with Maddie, Hen, and Karen. 

“It sure was,” Hen agreed, grinning wickedly when Karen added a low whistle to accompany her words.

“Haha,” Eddie said dryly, scrunching his face in disapproval at them over Beatrice’s shoulder. He made sure to return to a charming smile when they disengaged from the hug. 

“I’m so glad the two of you managed to work through whatever was going on and get back together before we left,” Beatrice said approvingly, patting Eddie’s cheek. 

“Uh –” 

“Just go with it,” Bobby advised under his breath, face carefully turned away from Beatrice as she went to say her congratulations to Buck. 

“Right,” Eddie said, glancing askance at Bobby. He shook his head, apparently deciding to take the advice.

“You definitely seem so much more comfortable together than you were with that Talia girl from the other week,” Beatrice was saying. 

“Natalia,” Buck corrected. 

“And you definitely are more comfortable with me,” Eddie declared firmly, slipping an arm around Buck’s waist. 

Bobby had only ever seen Buck with Natalia on that call where they’d first met but he didn’t doubt it was true. He knew what Buck was like when he let his guard down and one of the key reasons he would get concerned about how the relationship with Taylor was tracking was because he never saw any evidence that Buck allowed himself to get into that truly vulnerable state with her. Eddie, on the other hand, seemed to be able to provide that safety and security without even trying and Buck was able to do the same for him. 

It was another sign that probably should have clued Bobby in about their true feelings for each other but he had always thought it was an extension of how their little found family operated, that they just had that one extra step of closeness like Hen and Chimney did with each other. 

At least it all worked out in the end. 

“I do feel bad that we’re overshadowing your farewell, though,” Buck said, leaning into Eddie.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beatrice scoffed.

“As far as we’re concerned, this gives us all the more reason to celebrate,” Samuel added. 

“Mm, they insisted on broadening out the invite list once they heard the news,” Athena confided, eyes sparkling with mirth. “It was originally meant to be just our Grant-Nash lot.” 

“Wait –” Buck said, brows furrowing as he went to dig in his pocket. Bobby was sure that he wanted to double-check his phone because of course he had received his invitation several days earlier. 

For the sake of his currently tenuous relationship with his in-laws, he was extremely grateful that Eddie stopped him by whispering something in Buck’s ear that made him flush and drop his phone back in his pocket. 

“Well, we assumed everyone has been hoping for this for a long time,” Beatrice said. 

“Christopher certainly has,” Eddie muttered.

“It seemed rude to monopolise the celebration,” she continued seamlessly. “Speaking of which, go talk to your friends, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to catch-up throughout the evening.” 

“Joy,” Buck said under his breath, nervously eyeing the table where his sister was staring at him with excited expectation. He grabbed Eddie’s hand as they made their way over, squeezing it. 

Bobby also slipped away from the table, leaving Athena to keep chatting with her parents. He, however, decided to go join the boys with their bowling, wanting to seize the opportunity to spend a little time with them and perhaps try and get to know Christopher a little better.

He quickly got embroiled in an overly complicated team bowling competition that the kids had set up with the overly-large foam bowling pins that Michael bought for Harry several years ago during the height of the pandemic and stay-at-home orders. The boys were all extremely competitive and Bobby struggled to keep a straight face when Harry informed him very seriously about the ‘high stakes’ involved in the game (the winner got to choose which video game they would play once they shifted indoors). 

It was certainly refreshing to be around that unbridled and uncomplicated joy. He even managed to get some additional insights about Buck and Eddie’s confession, with Christopher happily including him as he gloated about the spiel he’d given both his dad and his honorary dad. 

“I still can’t believe how much I had to spell it out for them, considering how obvious it was,” Christopher complained dramatically. 

A lot of it certainly had been obvious in hindsight but given that Bobby and the others had also taken a while to understand the true extent and implications of what they were seeing he did feel like he should at least attempt a bit of a defence on Buck and Eddie’s behalf. 

“It can be difficult once you’re adults and there are a whole lot of other factors you need to consider when you’re thinking about taking such a big step,” he explained patiently, trying to word things in a child-friendly manner. 

All he got for his efforts was three very unimpressed pre-teens staring at him. 

“Adults make everything more complicated than it needs to be,” Denny declared.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Especially in our family – even Grandma says so!” 

Bobby decided not to keep fighting beyond that, although it did remind him that they should probably give Beatrice and Samuel a full explanation of everything before they left for Florida tomorrow. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to it, but it would certainly liven up the long drive to the airport.

Once the boys decided it was time to raid the food table, Bobby assembled his own burger and then left them to it, scanning the garden to see what everyone was up to as he ate. 

Hen and Karen had drifted over to join Athena and her parents at some point and it seemed like they were sharing anecdotes because laughter was breaking out in frequent intervals. Michael and David were nearby, half-listening in on the conversation and half having their own as they kept an eye on the rest of the food still barbecuing. 

They were both holding tall cocktail glasses that appeared to be half-full and had a sprig of mint peeking out over the top of them. There were more various cocktail glasses of various shapes and sizes scattered around the large table. When he looked over at Eddie, Chim and Maddie, who were the only ones left sitting near the end of the garden, they also each had their own cocktail sitting in front of them.

Bobby twisted around to the spot where Buck had basically created a pop-up cocktail bar during May’s birthday party. Sure enough, it was once again set up with a wide variety of bottles and ingredients and tools. Buck and May didn’t appear to be making anything at the moment although Buck was gesturing at certain things on the table with his plate as he spoke so Bobby guessed they were still talking about mixing drinks. It might have been a defensive move on his part, however, since May had a smirk as she responded with something that made Buck turn red even as he threw his head back and laughed. 

Not wanting to interrupt them yet, Bobby drifted over to David and Michael first, checking whether they wanted to be relieved of food duty. 

“The mojitos are keeping us going,” Michael claimed, his eyes sparkling as he lifted his glass towards Bobby in a pretend ‘cheers’. “Your boy really does know his stuff – he mixes an excellent drink and he’s doing a great job teaching May.”

David nodded, smirking slightly at his husband’s teasing. “You should go check it out. I’m sure Buck could mix you a mocktail if you wanted one. Either way, it’s impressive to watch both of them work.” 

“My daughter is very impressive,” Michael agreed smugly, flashing a mischievous look over at Bobby. “I’m so proud of her. I should probably tell her that. I feel like I probably don’t say it often enough.” 

“Really?” Bobby asked, pretending to glare at Michael for his incredibly unsubtle comment although in reality he was struggling not to laugh.

Michael shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m not about to claim that I’m as good as May at forcing my family to acknowledge the obvious.” 

“I think she was more clever about it,” David noted dryly, rolling his eyes at his husband fondly. 

“That’s because she took after me,” Athena interjected as she walked past, her words flat although her expression was teasing. 

“Hey now, you can’t just say that and walk away,” Michael complained good-naturedly. “You don’t even know what we were talking about.”

She twisted around to face them again while still moving towards the cocktail table. “Maybe I’ll come back once I get my very talented children to make me a cocktail.” 

Athena paused before she turned away, looking over to examine Bobby’s reaction to her words. He returned the look guilelessly, his eyes wide and innocent despite knowing full well that she was expecting either an exasperated glare or an uncomfortable grimace about her speaking a truth he hadn’t voiced aloud.

Well. Not yet, anyway. 

Her lips curled into a small, proud smile. 

“May definitely has me beat,” she said airily, turning back around without providing any further context. 

“Uh – at what,” Michael said, puzzled, but she was already calling across to Buck, asking what cocktail he would recommend for her this time.

“Let’s be honest, probably at everything,” Bobby said fondly. 

He could see that Buck was talking a mile a minute at Athena, grabbing and showing her different ingredients as he spoke, presumably going through the options of what they could make for her. Or perhaps he was simply talking through his thought process of what he wanted to make.

Bobby had heard from quite a few people that Buck was very good at crafting the perfect drink which matched exactly what the recipient wanted even if they didn’t realise it themselves. It seemed like a skill that was quintessentially Buck, the kid always finding joy in pleasing others, but he hadn’t actually watched him go through that thinking process yet. 

“It’s the thing you never expect about parenting,” Michael was saying in the background, drawing Bobby’s attention back to the pair. “How much you end up learning from your children and realising how incredibly they’ve grown up.” 

“I think I’ve definitely discovered over the last couple of years that there’s a lot about parenting that surprises you,” David agreed. He eyed Bobby, his expression knowing but not as mischievous as his husband’s. “Even if the child isn’t related to you by blood.” 

“Alright,” Bobby chuckled, his hands up. “I’m getting the hints, thank you.” 

“He says that, and yet…” Michael mumbled. 

Bobby’s heart was already beating faster and he felt like he might lose his resolve if he got sidetracked now so he ignored him and continued, keeping his tone as casual as he could. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to my oldest kid.” 

His heart seized as he uttered the loud, blatant assertion, a part of him still feeling like he wasn’t entitled to it when he didn’t have Buck’s explicit permission to make such a claim. 

But it was what he felt, what he had been feeling for probably longer than he’d even realised himself, and the various conversations and experiences he’d had over these last couple of months had shown him that Buck deserved to know the truth of Bobby’s feelings even if he didn’t have a right to them. 

He deserved to know that Bobby’s love for him was truly unconditional, that his pride was undeniably paternal, and that he felt so privileged to have been given the opportunity to provide him with guidance and watch him grow into a mature, caring and family-oriented man. 

Buck deserved to know, to be absolutely certain that Bobby would be there for him in that fatherly capacity whenever he did need or want him to be. 

Perhaps the security of having it affirmed would help make Buck feel more comfortable about owning that role in Bobby’s life although Bobby didn’t want to rely on that idea. He knew he had to be alright with putting his own heart on the line in order to go through with it. And, while the thought of that did make him deeply uncomfortable, he had actually come to terms with that.  

It was what dads did, after all: they took the first step that their children were too afraid to take and paved the way for them. 

Buck and May were pulling out the cocktail shakers now, adding in some final ingredients before pushing the lids onto their respective shakers. Athena said something that made them both laugh; they picked up their shakers and started making exaggerated dance movements as they shook their concoctions.

The happiness of his family was infectious and Bobby wished he could capture it and keep it forever. 

He pulled out his phone, since a picture was the closest thing to doing exactly that, and managed to snap a photo when May leaned into Buck to conspicuously whisper something conspiratorially and both their laughing faces were mostly facing him. 

“Send that to me,” Michael called over. When Bobby turned to face them again, his and David’s faces were devoid of the gaping surprise that had appeared at Bobby’s words. 

Michael was brimming with pride and Bobby knew him well enough to know that it wasn’t just about his children. 

“We do need at least one picture of each of our kids in the living room, step or honorary or otherwise,” David said approvingly. 

Bobby chuckled, the warmth of his brilliant and supportive family chasing away some of the nervous uncertainty. 

He tossed back a ‘sure’ and entered his messaging app while he walked toward the table, sending the picture to both Michael and David. His finger hovered over another name and he hesitated. After a moment of deliberation, he typed out a quick message and hit send.

A few seconds later, he could hear Beatrice’s loud voice carrying across the garden. “Oh, that is going straight onto the mantelpiece when we get home.”

“What was that about?” Athena asked, craning her neck to look over at her parents. 

Bobby slipped his arm around her shoulder and smiled. “I sent them a nice picture I just took of two of their grandchildren.” He angled the phone so that she could see the picture, adding, “I think it would look good on our mantelpiece as well.” Although they also needed to get one of Buck with Eddie and Christopher at some point as well, to make sure everyone in the family was represented and on display. 

“Definitely,” Athena murmured, smiling delightedly at the picture.

May, on the other hand, frowned, slowing down her arm movements as she glanced around the garden. Harry was eating his dinner with the other boys on the opposite side to where they were. She stared at them for a second and then shifted her gaze towards Bobby, her expression calculating. And then she flicked her eyes to Buck, who was standing next to her and focusing on adding some final garnishes to the two cocktails in front of him. Realisation dawned, quickly followed by a beaming smile she directed at Bobby. 

“I don’t know when you managed to get a good photo of May and Harry when May has been running her drill camp over here and keeping me busy,” Buck laughed, so oblivious to the silent byplay that Athena raised an eyebrow towards him which he also didn’t notice. 

“So what concoction have you come up with this time?” Bobby asked, shaking his head with a rueful chuckle. 

“A Margarita apparently,” Athena said, sounding a touch dubious. 

“I thought you said you would never touch tequila again,” Bobby said, raising a surprised eyebrow at the unexpected choice. He was sure that Buck wouldn’t have forgotten that. 

“Ah, but this particular margarita doesn’t have tequila,” Buck corrected smugly. He pushed the two glasses filled with deep red liquid towards Athena. “This is a Red Wine Margarita. Admittedly red wine doesn’t work quite as well to replace the tequila as a white variety would but I think you’ll like this version better anyway.” 

Athena took an experimental sip, her lips pursing as she took in the taste. She must have decided she liked it because she went in for another sip, this time nodding in approval as she drank. “I have to say, Buckaroo, you really are very good at picking exactly the right cocktail. I think Mama will love this one too.”

“I’ve heard the two of you are very good at picking the perfect drink for people,” Bobby commented.

“That’s all Buck,” May claimed, holding her hands up. “I am definitely not knowledgeable enough for that. Not yet, anyway.” She directed a wide, cheesy grin towards Buck, sending a very obvious hint that she was expecting him to help her grow that skillset. 

“Is it something they teach you when you’re learning to be a bartender…?” Bobby asked curiously. He’d never really thought much about the sort of training a person might do to learn how to tend a bar. Even before descending into alcoholism, his drinks of choice weren’t the kind that involved any prolonged interaction with the person serving him. However, he could see why Buck would have pursued the profession; above everything, he was a people person and he loved connecting with people from all walks of life. 

“Uh, I mean, kind of,” Buck replied. “You learn how to recommend drinks or cocktails based on people’s alcohol preferences – which is what I did with this one –” he gestured at Athena’s drink “ – but sometimes there are other things that might impact what they want to drink and I always liked to think I had a bit of a knack for picking up on those.” He looked a little sheepish, like he wasn’t sure if that was something he should be proud of.

Bobby nodded, scanning the table set-up with interest. It was perhaps the first time in many years that the impulse to have a drink didn’t feel mired in negativity and pain. Of course, that didn’t mean he could give into the desire, nor did he intend to. But he could at least assuage one element of his curiosity…

“If I wasn’t sober, what would you make for me?” 

“Uh,” Buck said, glancing over at Athena, eyes wide.

“Completely out of benign interest,” Bobby placated, holding up his hand. “I’m just curious to hear how Bartender Buck would read me.” 

“Well now I’m curious too,” Athena said, slipping her hand through Bobby’s arm. 

“Okay.” Buck crossed his arms, tilting his head as he studied Bobby thoughtfully, presumably running through options in his head. “You’d want a classic,” he decided. “Something old school.” 

May snorted. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“I feel like I should be offended,” Bobby complained lightly, sending her a mock glare for the teasing. 

“But they’re not wrong,” Athena finished seamlessly, patting his arm awkwardly when he sent the mock glare her way. 

“An old-fashioned would be the obvious choice,” Buck continued, ignoring the banter. “But I actually think it would be too strong and bitter for you to enjoy as a chill kind of sipping drink.” As opposed to ‘anything that would get you drunk as quickly as possible’ were the words that Bobby was quite grateful were left unspoken. “So I would go for a whiskey sour. A bit more balanced, a hint of sweetness, and the egg foam is something a bit different.”

It sounded exactly like something Bobby would have enjoyed back in the day, when he and Marcy would go out for dinner before the accident that triggered his downward spiral into addiction. “Sounds interesting. And very fitting.”

“Sounds like such a Dad drink,” May laughed.

Bobby’s heart sped up again. 

It was the perfect opening. 

He had taken all the opportunities so far today but this was different because Buck was actually standing here, right in front of him. 

But, he reminded himself, this was about making his stance clear and allowing Buck to handle that however he wanted to. 

“Sounds like would be even more fitting then,” he said, forcing himself to sound casual even though his nerves were buzzing. 

Athena squeezed his arm. May beamed again and started rummaging for something in her pocket. Buck looked confused. 

Bobby refused to take the out. 

“Getting a dad drink made for me by my kid, I mean,” he spelled out deliberately. 

Buck’s mouth dropped and he stared at Bobby, visibly dumbfounded. He raised his hand, holding out a finger and seemed to be trying to speak but only a squeak came out. 

And then the sound of a phone camera shutter went off. 

They all automatically shifted towards the noise. May was holding up her phone and grinning gleefully as she looked at the photo she had taken. 

“Finally,” she said triumphantly. “Now Eddie can stop complaining about the fact that I didn’t manage to get the one on my birthday.” Without another word, she ran off towards the table Eddie, Chimney, and Maddie were still sitting at.

Athena chuckled at her daughter’s antics. Seeing that Buck still seemed to be in shock, she slipped her arm out of Bobby’s and carefully picked up the second cocktail, giving Bobby a quick kiss of encouragement before turning to head back to her parents.

“What,” Buck said faintly, still staring after May. Hen and Karen were now running over to the table, where a lot of cheerful whooping seemed to be happening. 

“You okay there, kid?” Bobby asked with amused sympathy. While his own nerves were still there, the funny reactions from everyone had helped settle them somewhat. 

And, although he’d known that it was an unlikely reaction, it also helped that Buck hadn’t instantly recoiled at Bobby finally giving a title to their heretofore unnamed bond.

 “I… uh… yes?” Buck said, his tone more questioning than anything. He stared at Bobby helplessly, like he thought he should say more but he couldn’t think of what that should be.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Bobby said, keeping his tone low and calm. “I’m not expecting anything – I just figured it was about time I said it to you.”

“About time?” Buck repeated softly. The confusion was fading now, replaced with uncertainty and vulnerability. 

“Yeah,” Bobby chuckled wryly. “It’s been months since the lightning strike now and that was the first time someone made me admit to it –”

Buck looked back over at the table whose occupants were now attempting to pretend they weren’t staring at them. “May?” 

“Of course,” Bobby said, and they managed to share a small chuckle despite the heaviness of the moment. He didn’t want to let them get sidetracked though, so he quickly returned to continue his previous train of thought. “But I think it’s safe to say that it was putting a name to feelings I’ve had for a long time. I don’t want you to feel pressured to say anything about it but you deserve to know that, as far as I’m concerned, you are one of my kids.” 

Buck appeared to be lost for words but it also didn’t seem like he wanted to move on from the conversation just yet so Bobby waited patiently for him to find a way to articulate what he wanted to say. 

“Why?” was what Buck finally settled on and this time it was Bobby’s turn to get confused.

“What do you mean?” he prompted, brow furrowed as he attempted to work through Buck’s potential thought process. 

“Like – why the lightning,” Buck said, lightly exasperated but it didn’t seem to be directed at Bobby. It was more like he was annoyed at himself for not expressing himself how he wanted to. 

The answer came easier than expected, given the memories of that time still caused a hollow ache in his chest. “Because I knew I wouldn’t handle losing you. I somehow managed to survive losing my first two children. I don’t think I would have survived losing a third.”

It hurt to remember and to admit how truly terrified he had been during those long few days that Buck had been in his coma but the open and honest answer was worth it to get across the depth of his own feelings to Buck. 

Bobby could tell that Buck wasn’t done yet, so he waited patiently without saying anything more just yet. 

Sure enough, after a moment: “Why – why me,” he finally said plaintively. 

“Because you’re Buck,” Bobby said, like the answer was obvious because to him, it was. 

This kid and his big heart, irrepressible enthusiasm and curiosity, his unending desire to help people even at his own detriment, his stubbornness and even his thoughtless mistakes and reckless behaviour had waltzed into the station and then barged through every wall that Bobby had tried to build up. 

Buck was staring at him, stunned, his eyes wide and a little wet. He huffed and looked away before saying, “You know, crazy-coma-dream-Bobby made me have a very similar realisation.” 

“Crazy-coma-dream – never mind.” Bobby shook his head, filing away that tidbit that Buck had definitely never shared about his coma before. He could ask about it another time; he wanted to stick with what was pertinent to their current conversation. “I guess that proves you know me pretty well.” 

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Buck mused. He looked at Bobby, meeting his eyes before taking a deep breath. “Probably makes sense… you are my dad.” 

Bobby had meant it when he’d said that he didn’t need an answer or any sort of reciprocation from Buck. 

Apparently he’d been so focused on preparing for that exact eventuality that he hadn’t really thought about how he would handle getting that reciprocation, especially as easily as Buck offered it. 

It evoked a sense of euphoria and pride but there was also a steady thread of pure satisfaction that underpinned those heady feelings, like everything was exactly as it should be. 

“Yeah,” Bobby said, startled to find that his voice was a little croaky, “I am.” 

Buck startled when an arm slipped around his shoulder unexpectedly. The scent of Eddie’s favourite cologne filled his nostrils when he inhaled sharply and he relaxed again, leaning back into the chest that was slowly becoming more familiar.

He wished that he could say that he was intimately familiar with it but with a pre-teen in the mix they had regrettably not gotten that far yet. They managed to get a more involved make-out session going after Christopher had gone to bed but their kid’s loud bedtime declaration that “I am not sleeping with headphones so I hope nothing will wake me up,” had mostly withered any desire to go much further than that.

Unfortunately, Buck had to shoot down Eddie’s suggestion that they could simply try and be quiet and attempt some further exploration anyway. He admitted that he knew he was very noisy during sex and there was no way he could guarantee that he would be able to silence himself. 

In his defence, he had been living alone or in sharehouses with other similarly horny and shameless young men for basically his entire adult life so he had never had a reason to force himself to stop vocalising his pleasure. 

The confession made Eddie get quite breathless and smouldering and he pulled Buck into another long, bruising kiss. He only pulled away when a hand wandering south caused Buck to let out a groan that cut right through the silence permeating the darkened house. 

They thought about moving to the bedroom, but that was right opposite Christopher’s room and, as Eddie could attest, the sound carried. There was only one bathroom and the idea of Chris realising they were in there together was somehow more mortifying than the idea of him hearing something that could at least potentially be explained away. Staying in the living room was out of the question because it was far too open and Chris would have a direct line of sight to them almost as soon as he opened the door which meant they would get virtually no warning that they were about to be interrupted. 

So instead they ended up spending the evening in the kitchen, examining the calendar while they exchanged more kisses and risked the occasional wandering hand, shushing each other like they themselves were teenagers whenever one of them got too loud. 

Despite all the distractions they were inflicting on each other, they managed to work through their respective shifts, family obligations, and Christopher’s social schedule to determine when they would next be able to be alone and they pencilled it in as ‘B + E date’ since that sounded innocent enough (“it’s not a complete lie anyway; we’ll need to get food or else you won’t be able to function after what I plan to do to you,” Buck justified with a shrug, which made Eddie get all breathless and smouldering again.) 

“Accounting for a kid in the house is a whole new experience for you, huh,” Eddie commented when they got the calendar back on the fridge. 

It was but, honestly, Buck was revelling in the domesticity it represented. 

This was his own family that he built and he worked so hard for – a family that wanted and loved him. And perhaps that wasn’t the complete novelty it once would have been, thanks to the numerous connections he had forged in the years since he’d joined the 118, but the place he held in the Diaz family was different.

He was a father (and there was still an exhilarating kind of thrill that came when he allowed himself to use that specific title in relation to himself) and a partner by every possible definition of the word.

And then there was the conversation he’d had with Bobby barely an hour ago, where son had been added to the list. To have the man he thought of as a father unequivocally say that he also saw himself as Buck’s dad, for him to claim he also felt that same bond that Buck had never dared vocalise in front of him… 

The thing was, Buck had matured enough to know that he had a permanent and important place in the hearts of his firefamily. He knew that they would always willingly offer him love and support. But this shift in his relationship with Eddie and the confirmation that Bobby considered him a son was still monumental: it entwined him into their lives more fully, in a way that made Buck’s identity and his place in the world feel that much more secure as it gave him the confidence to stave off the abandonment issues that he tried not to dwell on but still haunted him anyway. 

Because he knew Eddie, and he knew that Eddie would do absolutely anything for his family and would never dream of turning his back on Chris or Buck if they needed him. 

And he knew Bobby, and he knew that wilfully abandoning his children was an unfathomable concept for him. 

He almost felt dizzy when he allowed himself to consider the magnitude of having so much unconditional love directed at him when his experience had always been that love was a finite resource. The idea of what it meant for his future was both freeing, exciting and, frankly, a little bit terrifying. 

“How are you doing?” Eddie asked quietly in his ear, taking advantage of the motion to press a kiss to Buck’s neck. “Handling everything alright?” 

“Honestly?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, lie to me. Yes, obviously honestly.”

Buck chuckled, twisting in Eddie’s arms slightly so he could see his face without dislodging the arm that was now loosely across his back. “A little bit overwhelmed,” he admitted. 

“I bet,” Eddie said, his fond and knowing expression showing that he realised Buck was downplaying how tumultuous his current state of mind was. 

“Not every day that you suddenly gain a dad, a son, and a boyfriend,” Buck said, trying to add some levity.

“Ugh, I don’t like ‘boyfriend’,” Eddie said, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “It sounds so juvenile for what we are. I think we should stick with ‘partner’.”

(Recognising that his partner was already at his limits of what he could handle in terms of change, Eddie elected to avoid elaborating that they only needed a temporary term to function as a stepping stone towards ‘husband’.)

Buck was sure that his ridiculously wide grin conveyed agreement but he said “I can handle that,” anyway.  

“Also, I think everyone here would claim that it wasn’t all that sudden,” Eddie added wryly. He tilted his head in consideration and added, “A claim that is probably substantiated by the fact that you didn’t add ‘sister’ or ‘brother’ to that list.” 

Buck flushed at the words and Eddie’s amused look. “Well, May wasn’t exactly subtle…”

“You say that like Bobby was subtle,” Eddie protested, laughing. “I can attest to the fact that he definitely was not. Hell, this entire thing with May proves that he wasn’t subtle!” 

“According to the team, we weren’t all that subtle either, and they didn’t notice for ages,” Buck pointed out, pouting at Eddie until he relented and nodded to concede the point. 

That had been a bit of a surprise when they had gone to join Hen, Chim, Maddie, and Karen – Eddie had told him that Hen and Chim were the ones that sent him down the path of realising his feelings for Buck but he wasn’t aware of what had precipitated their own questioning. 

Apparently a series of individual observations and experiences that they had ended up sharing with each other had forced them all to reflect on Buck and Eddie’s behaviour over the last few years and the fact that their actions weren’t those of regular friends or even exceptionally close friends like Hen and Chimney. 

Each of them had lamented their obliviousness – except for Maddie, who gloated that she “clocked Buck’s crush on Eddie from the beginning, thank you very much.” 

Buck did try to say that there hadn’t been a crush for her to clock back then but his protest had been undercut by the fact that he and Eddie couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

“I don’t know if that’s a win though, considering we didn’t notice either,” Eddie mused idly, laughing when Buck’s pout intensified. This time, he decided to console Buck by trying to kiss it away. 

“You boys look so happy together.”

They jumped apart, startled by the unexpected voice. 

It was Beatrice, who was looking at them with an approving glint in her eye.

“I know I said it before but I really am so thrilled to see that you’ve managed to work past your problems together,” she continued.

Eddie glanced over at Buck questioningly, most likely trying to ask if Buck had any idea where her belief that they had ‘worked through something’ had come from. Buck shook his head minutely to convey that he didn’t; he had already made a mental note to ask May about it later. 

“Sometimes relationships break down, of course, but it just seemed like you were still working so well together as a team and that there was so much love underpinning that.”

“Well, we’ve always been partners,” Eddie stated with a mischievous smile. “And we have been basically since the day we met.” 

“About twenty-four hours since the day we met,” Buck corrected, making Eddie laugh. “It’s a long story,” he directed at Beatrice, seeing her curiosity. 

“A complicated story?” she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation for some reason. 

“Not really,” Eddie said easily. “Just involved a grenade and a very bratty Buck.” 

“Hey,” Buck protested, elbowing Eddie’s side.

“You were so bratty,” Eddie insisted, barely dodging the elbow as he laughed. 

“Yeah, well, you were a show-off,” Buck countered, pouting at him again. 

“Only to impress you, babe.” Eddie winked at him and Buck was a little embarrassed at the way his stomach swooped at the cheesy line. 

Beatrice watched the byplay with amusement, her curiosity visibly getting stronger. “This certainly sounds like a story that Samuel and I would love to hear one day.” 

“We’ll have to do a family dinner next time you’re in town,” Eddie suggested easily.

“Excellent idea,” Beatrice agreed with a strong and proud smile. “Even just hearing about you from Buck and Christopher, I knew that you were the kind of person who understood the importance of family.” 

“There is nothing more important to me than keeping my family safe and happy,” Eddie said emphatically, squeezing Buck’s shoulder.

Beatrice managed to look even more approving, which Buck hadn’t thought was possible but Eddie was so amazing that it made sense he could vault over her already high expectations. 

She turned her attention to him next and Buck straightened his back unconsciously. He was preparing his own spiel about the value of family, so her next words caught him off-guard. 

“And it looks like you and your dad also had a good talk.”

After a beat of silence, Eddie stepped in to cover for Buck’s momentary speechlessness. “They definitely did.”

“So things are better there now as well?” she prodded, glancing over at where Bobby was talking with May, Hen and Athena. 

“Uh, yeah, things are – they’re really good.” 

Beatrice searched his face and she must have picked up on the glowing feeling of warmth that still appeared whenever he thought about it because she looked satisfied after her examination. 

“Good, I’m glad your father got his act together,” she said firmly. “It certainly took him long enough.” 

“You know he’s not my real dad?” Buck blurted out, unable to stop himself. 

Beatrice looked puzzled, which made sense since it was kind of ridiculous that the truth had only come out at the end of their 6-week trip and not at any of the points where she was treating him like one of her grandchildren. 

He wasn’t really sure where the sudden urge to correct her came from. Perhaps it was because he and Bobby had both now verbally acknowledged their bond and with that came the assurance that it didn’t matter if anyone else attempted to refute him, or perhaps all the events of the last few days had simply given him more confidence to tackle these topics in general. 

Not that it really mattered where the urge came from, since he had given into it without allowing himself any time to reflect on whether he should say something.

“He’s my captain at the firehouse,” Buck explained further, needing to fill the silence. 

“The firehouse that half of the people here work at?” Beatrice clarified, her eyes squinting as she swept her gaze across the garden. 

“That’s the one,” Eddie agreed, smiling at Beatrice like he knew where her train of thought was going. Buck wished he would whisper it in his ear, because he didn’t have a clue. 

“I only moved to LA like six, seven years ago – probably right around the time Bobby moved here from Minnesota funnily enough – so we only met at the station then. I don’t think he was a very big fan of me at first but then he started mentoring me and he, uh, he helped me a lot.” Buck knew he was rambling and he wasn’t even sure if this was providing any sort of explanation for their misunderstanding. “I’m from Pennsylvania. My parents – they still live in Pennsylvania.” 

“They aren’t very good people,” Eddie confided.

It was a merciful interruption although Buck still couldn’t quite shake the habit of defending his parents.

“They’re good people… just not good parents,” he corrected weakly, parroting the line that he and Maddie had been using for most of their lives. 

“I didn’t realise the concepts were mutually exclusive,” Beatrice said dryly, not looking at all impressed by the defence. 

“Yeah, and I don’t think refusing to fly here so they could help out after your sister got stabbed or you got crushed by a firetruck is a sign of good people at all,” Eddie added scathingly. 

“They sent us cash,” Buck offered, scrunching his nose in a wince. 

“How generous,” Beatrice said flatly. 

Buck inclined his head in acknowledgement, staying silent this time because he couldn’t actually deny that it didn’t come close to being the kind of support he and Maddie had needed after their respective traumatising experiences.

The emotional support they needed to help them regain their equilibrium had come from Bobby and Athena and Eddie, Hen and Chimney, while the practical support of meals and research and lifts to appointments had come from the much wider circle they had managed to amass at the 118 and dispatch. 

“You should see the couch his mother bought him after he got struck by lightning,” Eddie said, squeezing Buck’s hand.

Buck was torn between gratitude that his partner was jumping in to give him a break and amazement that he was using it as an opportunity to complain about the damn couch. 

“I swear it was designed to break all of our backs. And just to pour salt in the wound, it’s hideous and looks like it belongs in a retirement village.” 

“I hope you have a better couch, then,” Beatrice said to Eddie, shaking her head.

“Absolutely,” Eddie replied fervently. “And I have been looking for an excuse to help you get rid of it.” 

“May joined your cause on that,” Buck told him ruefully, remembering the stain caused by May’s frappe. Admittedly, he hadn’t tried that hard to clean it out. 

“And that is one of the things which proves your sisters are the best,” Eddie said, reminding Buck that this conversation wasn’t meant to be about his mother’s terrible taste in couches. 

“Anyway, the point is, Bobby is like my dad but he isn’t actually my dad,” Buck said, bringing them back to the point. 

Beatrice stared at him in disbelief. 

Buck assumed she must be fuming over the inadvertent deception and he prepared himself for a well-deserved telling-off. Hoping to mitigate it somewhat, he earnestly said, “I don’t think any of us meant to lie about it – I guess we were all struggling to think of how to correct the misconception.” 

(Behind him, Eddie’s shoulder’s were shaking from the herculean effort of trying not to burst into laughter.) 

Beatrice pursed her lips and closed her eyes. She sighed and then reopened them, pinning Buck with a no-nonsense stare. “May and Harry consider you their brother.” 

“Uh, yes, that’s – that’s true,” Buck started, all set to launch into how that must have caused the misunderstanding, but Beatrice didn’t let him continue. 

“You consider them to be your younger siblings –” 

“Of course – that’s –”

“And you just said Bobby is like your dad.” This time she paused, raising both eyebrows at Buck to indicate that she expected him to respond.

Cowed by the look that reminded him a lot of Athena at her most disapproving, he answered quickly and simply, without elaboration. “Yeah – yes, I did say that.” 

“Bobby thinks of you as his son.” She didn’t wait for a response that time, providing it herself. “Any fool with eyes and half a brain would be able to see that.” 

Eddie snorted and then made a choking sound. Buck whirled around in alarm to check on him but Eddie waved him back towards Beatrice, twisting his neck to hide his face. 

(The urge to break out into peals of laughter had simply gotten too overwhelming and he needed a moment to compose himself. He wished he was filming this because he thought May would love it, as would the rest of their fire family.)

“If I’ve got all that right,” Beatrice said, waiting for him to nod before continuing, “then tell me, Buck, what exactly have I misunderstood?” 

Buck had absolutely no idea what to say.

He turned to look at his partner, hoping for some inspiration, but Eddie was still mostly turned away from him. All he could see was one bright red cheek which seemed like it should be cause for concern but Eddie didn’t look like he was actually in distress. 

Beatrice muttered something under her breath, drawing Buck’s attention back to her, but all he could glean from her exasperated words was ‘explain’ and ‘complicated’ which didn’t really match with the conclusion she’d drawn. 

Before he could ask for her to repeat it, she pinned him with that Athena-gaze again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I want to get some photos before the sun starts setting. I need a picture of all my grandchildren on my mantelpiece.” She shifted the firm stare over to Eddie. “Including my great-grandchild, of course.” 

“Of course,” Eddie said agreeably, letting out a much stronger laugh than Buck thought was warranted. 

Bobby appeared next to them when Beatrice stalked off to corral May, Harry and Christopher towards the tree she had decided would make for the perfect backdrop for her family photo. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, bemusement shifting into concern when he took in Eddie’s red face and Buck’s bewildered expression. 

“She wants a family photo for her mantelpiece,” Buck said faintly, feeling overwhelmed again. “Of all her grandchildren. Including me.” 

“I see,” Bobby said, relaxing as his concern faded. 

“And her great-grandchild,” Eddie added helpfully, grinning. 

“I need to make sure she sends me a copy of that picture,” Bobby said, his lips twitching. “Although I have to admit, I’m still getting used to the idea of having a grandson myself… I did not think that was going to be happening anytime soon.” 

“Please, like there’s any chance you’ll be anything other than fantastic at it,” Eddie scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, of course you’d be awesome,” Buck agreed, seizing the opportunity to talk about something that he actually felt like he understood. “Christopher would be super lucky to have you as his granddad.” 

“He is super lucky,” Eddie corrected lightly.

“Right,” Buck agreed, the reminder that he didn’t need to qualify his relationship with Bobby leaving him awestruck. 

“Just do me a favour and don’t take a photo of me if he ever decides to call me Grandpa,” Bobby chuckled, a little awestruck himself. 

“Nah,” Buck said with a mischievous grin that made Bobby wary. 

The feeling of being overwhelmed didn’t quite disappear, because a lot really had happened to him over the last 48 hours, but it did recede significantly as he settled back into this teasing and loving dynamic which had become so familiar. 

“I’m going to teach him to call you Pops.” 

“And we will be taking a photo of that,” Eddie declared, immediately understanding Buck’s plan like the incredible partner that he was. 

“You boys…” Any heat that Bobby attempted to inject into the complaint was thoroughly undercut by how wet his eyes were.

He managed to get his revenge a minute later, however, as Beatrice called over for Buck and Eddie to join the group assembled next to the tree.

“Wait, me too?” Eddie asked, surprised. 

“Apparently grandson-in-law counts too, Eddie,” Bobby said, smiling smugly when that made them both blush. 

(After the picture was taken to Beatrice’s satisfaction, Athena pulled May aside. Standing just outside of the group, they had a perfect view of Bobby telling Buck, Eddie and Christopher that they were expected to come for a family dinner next week. Buck slung his arm around Bobby and leaned his head against his shoulder, saying something that wasn’t audible from their vantage point but made Eddie and Christopher laugh. 

“That’s because of you,” Athena said, nodding at the small group. “And I am so incredibly proud of you, May. You did exactly what this family needed.”

“It wasn’t only because of me,” May said, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she watched her family interact – it was a slightly larger family than she had anticipated when she initially set out on this journey but that didn’t take away from the pure rightness of this moment.

“But you know what? I’m pretty damn proud of myself too.”)