Inspired by the wonderful harrimaniac27 from an ask I posed on Tumblr, in which I asked for a prompt for a Mike/Marco fic. It has since been blown wayyyy bigger than I could have (but probably should have) expected.

Notes: This fic will be slash. That means that two male characters will be involved in a romantic and (in this case) sexual relationship. Sex will not be at the forefront of the plot, but it will occur. If you do not like slash, please just don't read. I will not tolerate meanness/flames/trolling just because you don't like slash. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.

Warnings: mild language, mentions of violence/death, sexual situations. This will last multiple chapters and each chapter will have specific warnings when necessary.


Mike Stoker was the first man to show up for the first shift at Station 51, a brand new fire station built in conjunction with the trial paramedic program. He pulled his truck into a parking spot behind the station. The only other vehicle present was an LA County Fire Department car with a chief standing next to it, waving Mike over. Chief Duggan grinned, teeth very white against his dark skin, and shook Mike's hand heartily.

"So, you're one of the men here for the new station?"

"Yessir, Chief. I'm the engineer, Mike Stoker."

"Perfect. After everyone else arrives, us and one of the new paramedics'll go and pick up the apparatus. You always arrive to work so early, Stoker?"

"I don't usually beat the captain, but I do like to be prompt. Thought I might be the last one here today, actually."

That wasn't entirely true. While Mike did indeed always prefer to be a little early, today it was nerves that brought him in far earlier than he knew anyone else would arrive. He'd been an engineer for a few years now, and he had absolutely no doubt in his abilities because he was a damn good engineer. Silly as it was, he was nervous to meet his new shiftmates. Guys came and went at his old station all the time, but usually one at a time. It was easier to meet a new guy when you already knew everyone else. At least everyone else was new, too.

Another car pulled up, and out came a man about Mike's height with dark hair. Mike recognized him as Dick Hammer, a captain he'd worked with a time or two before. He liked him. Hammer was a good man, a good captain. Chief Duggan greeted him as warmly as he had Mike, and Hammer turned to Mike, saying, "Stoker… Mike Stoker, right? You subbed 127s a few times. I'm glad to have you with us."

"Thanks, Cap. I'm glad to be here. I'm really interested in seeing how this paramedic program is gonna work."

"All of us are," Chief Duggan responded, "What are your thoughts on the program, Stoker?"

Had to open my damn mouth. Mike took a second to compose his thoughts, making sure the words he wanted to say were in the right order, then said, "Well, sir, I think if it's done right, it'll be an excellent program. We've all worked rescues where having more immediate medical attention could've potentially saved lives. If we do it right here, there could be paramedics running with the departments of every major city one day…maybe even in volunteer departments."

Chief Duggan nodded, a light smile on his face. Hammer was wearing a similar one himself. Mike felt heat creeping into his face and cast his gaze down at his shoes. And people wonder why I'm quiet… I make a damn fool of myself when I speak, that's why. Hammer and Duggan started a conversation, which saved Mike from having to speak for the time being. They soon went inside for a quick tour of the new building, and Mike found himself particularly fond of the kitchen. He liked cooking, especially for the guys on his shift.

The next to arrive was a man with reddish-brown hair and clear eyes. He looked calm and at ease, cheerfully greeting everyone with a smile.

"I'm Roy DeSoto," he said warmly, "I'm one of the paramedics, part of the new program. It's nice to meet all of you. Hopefully my partner'll be here soon. Johnny Gage. He's a good kid. Real smart."

Sure enough, he was the next to arrive, pulling up in a dusty white Rover. Gage was a skinny kid, all long limbs and a mop of brown hair and a crooked smile. Mike thought he looked a little goofy, but DeSoto seemed to think a lot of him. He's the one who has to work with him, so I suppose it's his opinion that matters the most. Gage was friendly, which was a good start. Mike had worked with plenty of surly guys, guys who couldn't be bothered to be friendly no matter what was going on. Now, some of those guys pretended to be friendly at first, but Mike was pretty good at seeing through the bullshit. Plus, he honestly didn't think Gage was capable of pretending to be something he wasn't.

After that came one of the linemen, a Latino with a friendly face and skin a rich tan. Mike liked him immediately. He just looked like one of those people a guy could like, who could be your friend. He shook hands with everyone, coming to Mike last, saying, "I'm Marco Lopez. Pleased to meet you, Stoker."

"Same to you. Name's Mike."

Lopez flashed a bright smile, and Mike offered him one in return, trying to ignore the odd fluttering in his stomach.

"You cook at all, Stoker?" Lopez asked.

"Yeah, but nothin' fancy. I cook firemen's food, all grease and calories and probably bad for ya."

"Me, too. The guys at my old station wanted me to cook practically every shift, but a guy only has so many recipes, y'know? What's your best meal? The one everyone likes?"

"Probably… probably my spaghetti and meatballs. Old family recipe," Mike replied, a little surprised to realize he was still smiling.

"Perfect. I love spaghetti. It's crazy, but one of my best is an Irish stew. Guys wanted it every other shift."

"I guess we'll have to try it out soon, then."

The last member of the shift to arrive walked in about ten minutes before the shift was due to start. He was a young man, with bright blue eyes and a dark mass of curls, his build leaning toward stocky. He introduced himself as Chet Kelly.

"I hope you aren't always the last one into the station, Kelly," Hammer said.

"Me, too, Cap. Don't really wanna land latrines every shift," Kelly smirked.

The newcomer had an air of mischief about him but not meanness. Mike liked to think he was fairly good at reading people, and he was pretty happy with all his new shiftmates, knew they were good people. He just somehow knew it, like when some people just knew it would rain. Chief Duggan gathered everyone in the kitchen for a quick speech about the new paramedic program needing to succeed and teamwork and all the usual things chiefs said in speeches. Mike listened attentively nonetheless.

"Alright now, I'll take Stoker and DeSoto to get the apparatus and bring it home. You'll have an engine and a new rescue squad with life-saving equipment," Duggan explained, "The rest of you should acquaint yourselves with the new station and direct any questions you have to your new captain. We should be back within the hour with some new toys for you."

Mike pulled on his jacket and followed DeSoto and Duggan out to the chief's car, excitement starting to flood his system.

xXxXx

Marco poked around the kitchen for most of their time waiting for the apparatus. He would get to know this kitchen well, of that he was sure. Cooking was one of his favorite things. It gave him something to occupy himself, something to do with his hands, something to help keep his mind busy. He caught up with Gage and Kelly, who were setting up the dorm and already sniping at each other, though Kelly did occasionally pose an actual question or two to Gage.

"…you have to ask a doctor for permission to do anything to a patient," Kelly asked, "What happens if you can't get ahold of a doctor? Or if your connection to the hospital cuts out?"

"Well, it'd hafta depend on the situation, I guess," Gage replied, "I mean, we're not supposed to do anything without a doctor's go-ahead 'cause we're not doctors. We don't know all the possible complications and stuff, I mean, so if we decide to administer a treatment without authorization and a patient dies as a direct result, we're at fault."

"What if it saves their life?"

Gage shrugged, "Dunno. Prob'ly depend on the situation," and worked on making sure the sheets on the bunk were perfect. Marco piped up, "Hey, Gage, you used to work rescue at 10s, right?"

"Yeah… I was there for about a year."

"I thought so. I subbed there for a friend of mine once or twice, Manuel Herrera."

"Yeah, Manny was great! Liked his time off, though… never seen anyone use all their days before…"

Marco knit his brows, "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me-? Tell us what?"

"His, uh… his sister had breast cancer. See, she started living with him after her husband got killed a few years ago, her and her three kids. When she got sick, he had to help his mama take care of the kids and his sister."

"He never told us any of that. Is-? Is she alright? Manny's sister?"

"Oh, yeah, she's much better now. She had some complications from the surgery, which was what really got her, but she's doing alright."

"That's good, at least. I wonder why he never said anything."

"Well, Gage, not everyone likes to broadcast their personal business around," Kelly stated.

That sparked another round of bickering, so Marco left them in the dorm, chuckling to himself. He really liked everyone so far. They were all very kind and friendly, though if he had to hazard a choice, he'd say Mike Stoker was his favorite, the one he thought could become a best friend. The rumble of engines caught Marco's ear, and he hustled out into the empty bay with the others. The small squad backed in first, but Marco only had eyes for the engine, an open-cab Crown Firecoach, polished to a perfect shine. Her driver was quick and careful, backing the engine in effortlessly. Stoker climbed down, smoothing his brown hair to one side, long limbs carrying him gracefully forward.

"Well, Stoker, how is she?" Hammer asked, resting a hand on the engine.

"Oh, she's a beaut, Cap. Runs like a dream," he answered, grinning, "I can't wait to get her out on a run. Guys at the yard said they checked her pumps yesterday and filled her up, so she's ready."

"Perfect. Fellas, let's get ourselves familiar with the new apparatus, even if it's a familiar old engine to you. Don't want any mishaps in the field. We wanna be quick and good."

DeSoto called, "Hey, Johnny, come over here so we can figure out where everything is on the squad. I know we had a practice vehicle, but this one may be different. C'mon…"

Marco watched them start opening compartments on the squad and cataloging equipment. Meanwhile, Mike was doing a slow circle around the engine, occasionally reaching out to touch a spot or open a compartment or run a finger over a knob. He was almost reverent in his attentions, and Marco found himself inexplicably drawn to the engineer. There was just something about him that made Marco like him.

"Hey, Cap," Mike spoke up after some time had passed, "I think maybe we oughta check out the squad, too."

Marco agreed, "That makes sense. If we're on a run together, DeSoto and Gage may need help gettin' stuff out."

"Good idea, fellas. DeSoto, Gage, show us around the squad."

Chief Duggan came back later in the day to see how they were getting along.

"You boys think you're ready to go live as Station 51?" Duggan asked.

Hammer turned to look at his men. Marco felt himself grinning and saw the others do the same.

"Yeah, Chief," Hammer replied, wearing a smirk of his own, "I think we're ready."

"Outstanding. Let's get you men called in as available so you can get to work. Now, they tell me the squad will get called out on solo runs, as will the engine, but there will also be plenty of times the station will be called out. You'll hear calls for Station 51, Squad 51, and Engine 51, just like any other station with multiple apparatus. Understood?"

"Yessir," the men chorused.

"Also, the squad can get called out with another engine and vice-versa. These paramedic squads are valuable, and they're sorely needed. I'm proud to be one of the men leading the paramedic program. DeSoto, Gage, do us proud."

"Yessir, we will," DeSoto replied.

"I didn't know Duggan was one of the paramedic chiefs," Gage commented after Duggan left.

"He's the best choice for it," Hammer explained, "He was a medic during WWII, one of the best."

Gage made a noise of understanding and went back to looking through the drug box, muttering to himself every so often, DeSoto at his side. Hammer was looking over some paperwork, and Kelly was engrossed in an auto magazine. Stoker flipped through the latest Fire Engineering, one he'd probably already read a few times. He was seated on the couch, one long leg crossed over the other. Where the others were all in motion, with jiggling feet and tapping pens and working fingers, Stoker was very still, his only movements the turning of pages.

Kelly spoke up after a short while, asking a simple question about cars that opened up the floor to conversation. Soon, everyone was talking about this and that and the other thing: family, hobbies, sports, pets, cars, previous stations, service time, everything. They sat in the kitchen, talking and laughing, and it took a moment for Marco to realize that Stoker was not among them. Why doesn't he wanna join in? Fire Engineering can't be that fascinating… It wasn't even that Mike didn't look interested in what everyone had to say. The engineer followed the conversation as closely as if he were part of it, but he said nothing to contribute to it. Marco found himself wondering more about Stoker as the day went on.

The squad was called out after dinner, which was just pizza since the fridge had yet to be stocked. Another friendly conversation started before lights out, another conversation Stoker carefully kept himself out of. Maybe he's just shy… though he spoke to me fine this morning when we talked about cooking. That may be it, he might just need someone to start a conversation with him directly. Marco resolved to speak to him tomorrow morning. They could get breakfast, perhaps. Anticipation fluttered in Marco's stomach.

He'd laughed a little earlier in the day, listening to Gage and Kelly argue over whether or not to talk to Stoker about what it was like to be an engineer. Kelly was making noises about definitely wanting to be an engineer himself one day, but Gage just seemed a little high-strung. They were just young linemen being ridiculous, of course, as young linemen were wont to do (and young paramedics, too, he supposed.) They blew little things out of proportion and pretended big things were nothing. Marco remembered. It wasn't so long ago he was a young lineman himself, after all.

The smell of fresh coffee permeated the station in the morning, warm and heady and stimulating, easily pulling Marco into wakefulness. He stepped into his bunker pants and shuffled into the kitchen, stifling a yawn. Stoker was sitting at the table, mug of coffee in front of him with the open paper.

"Made a fresh pot of coffee," Stoker spoke up, "Better get a cup before everyone else does."

"Didn't think we had a percolator when I looked around the kitchen yesterday… or coffee for that matter."

Stoker shrugged, "Someone gave it to me for Christmas or somethin' one year. I just hung on to it 'cause I figured it may come in handy."

"You're tellin' me you keep a percolator in your car?"

"Nah, I just thought we might need it, so I brought it with me… and I was right. You gonna drink some or just stand there and make fun of me and my percolator?"

"Well, I think I'll drink it," Marco quipped, "Smells pretty good, after all."

The comment made Stoker smirk, and a curious feeling of lightness trickled through Marco's veins. The engineer's brown hair was still lightly mussed, sleepiness lingering in his blue eyes, and his musculature was just visible under his white t-shirt. The lightness increased to a steady flow. Marco found himself strangely pleased to note Stoker didn't have a wedding band.

"Stoker, would you wanna grab some breakfast after our shift?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

Blue eyes studied him for a moment; Marco felt scrutinized.

"Sure. I'd like that, Lopez."

"Great. Is there any place you like to go in particular?"

"Nah, it should be your choice, since it was your offer."

"Hmm… well, I know this great place pretty near here I've been to plenty of times. The Deepwater. It's good and cheap and they give you plenty of food," Marco explained, "The owners, the wife is Mexican and the husband is a white guy from around Philadelphia. They serve this great stuff called 'scrapple'. It's good even when you know what it is."

"And just what is… scrapple?"

"Just what it says, really. Meat scraps, pork mostly, they mix together with cornmeal and fry up."

"Ugh, doesn't sound good to me."

"That's what I said, but now I get it every time I'm there."

There was the scrutiny again. Stoker said, "Well… I guess it wouldn't hurt to try it…"

Marco gave him the address as the others filtered into the kitchen, all grumbling and yawning. Stoker drained his coffee and passed the paper to Marco, giving him a small smile. Warmth pulsed through Marco's veins. He wished he knew why.


If you couldn't tell already, this will be kind of a slow burn, but don't worry. We'll get there together.

A/N: The Deepwater Diner is an actual diner in South Jersey where I live, and you can indeed obtain that most delicious treat scrapple there.