Tales from the Firehouse.

Authors ramble: Right then, this is an alt story set around most of the gang (obviously) in a different setting to anything I've seen on here (hopefully). Give it a go and send me some feedback. Flames will be just binned this time, I'm not giving you a seconds glory or acknowledgement.

Authors ramble 2: IMPORTANT I've tried to keep it real without being too technical. Sorry if it seems that way. As I've said previously firefighters see and experience injures and death regularly, so you are warned reading this...I will not give a 32 page warning if I'm about to do anything to any of the characters as I feel it spoils the story for the reader. If you've been keeping up, you'll have realised by now

Still loving all the theories I'm having thrown at me, but you're all wrong lol. You've missed some clues too... well some of you lol (thats all I'm saying lol)

Soooo, the rest of the date then?

A/N: 'Lookie-loo' is firefighter slang for people who come and rubber neck when firefighters are trying to do their job. They're a right pain.

x-0-x

Chapter Eight

Don't Be That Arsehole

During the entire meal, only two other couples were seated in the special dining area, but they had been placed strategically so each party was as far as possible from the others. Naomi had insisted Emily order the goat eyes, refusing to tell her what they were. When they arrived, Naomi fed one of the grilled mushrooms to her date, laughing when Emily snapped at her fingers.

Over their salads, Naomi discussed her parents, her time in the academy and some of the more memorable pranks she'd played and that had been played on her. Emily, in turn, told about her family and doctor training during the main course. Both of them bonding further over having absent parents, Naomi's mum and boyfriend off travelling and Emily's parents living in Scotland.

Halfway through the meal, Emily excused herself to use the toilets. The waitress pointed her to a small corridor branching off the main dining area. She told Naomi she'd be right back and weaved through the tables, taking time to gaze at all the marvelous memorabilia throughout the restaurant. There were dozens of framed newspaper stories. Most of the stories showed the hometown boys and girls in action, but some were of historic incidents and accidents from the area involving all the emergency services.

There were hoses on the walls, long hooks and various oxygen masks, even a stretcher and handcuffs tucked away framed behind glass. Rows of hats and helmets circled the wall just below the ceiling, representing the various stages of uniform changes for each service.

When she turned the corner for the bathroom, she caught sight of the most elaborate piece of firefighter memorabilia. The wall between the men's toilets and the women's was dominated by a full firefighter uniform. The helmet was flat against the wall, the crown facing out. The rest of it was arranged as if an invisible firefighter were occupying the pants and jacket.

Emily stepped up to it, looking up and imagining she could smell the smoke coming off the material. On either side of the suit hung more framed newspaper clippings from the local paper detailing rescues and fires. She recognized a few of the names - Tomone and Fleming jumped out at her - but saw no mention of Naomi in any of them. She was about to read one of the articles when she remembered why she had gotten up in the first place. Casting a final glance at the phantom fireman, she went into the ladies room.

x-0-x

By the time Emily paid - she insisted and actually slapped Naomi's hand when she reached for the bill, startling the blonde - the restaurant had mostly cleared out. They thanked the hostess and headed out into the night. Emily immediately hugged herself against the cold wind. Naomi put her arm around her date, amazed at how automatic the move already was. She kissed Emily's temple as they parted to get into her jeep.

Emily scanned the empty car park and said, "Wow, how long were we sitting there talking?"

Naomi checked her watch. "It's almost ten."

Emily whistled. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realize I was being such a chatterbox."

"Yes, well, you should have paid attention to all my complaints," Naomi grinned.

Emily put her head back, closed her eyes and let herself sway with the motion of the car as Naomi drove her home. When the Nissan came to a stop, she pretended to be asleep just to see what Naomi would do. She felt the taller woman's knuckles brush her cheek, felt the hand cup the side of her head, fingers gently running trails down her cheek. "Hey," Naomi said softly.

She opened her eyes and said, "Am I home?"

"I got you here safely," Naomi said, a gentle smile gracing her lips. The streetlight on the corner illuminated half of Naomi's face and gave her a halo. She let Naomi open the car door for her and they walked inside together. As they waited by the elevator, Emily said, "I had a great time. We're going to have to go there again."

"We?" Naomi said, smiling and raising an eyebrow. "So, with you cooking for me next week, would that be our third date?"

Emily grinned and said, "Mm, I don't know. We did have that coffee. Maybe it would be our fourth."

Naomi touched Emily's cheek and leaned down. She caught Emily's bottom lip with both of hers and turned them both until Emily's back was to the wall. Emily cupped the back of Naomi's head and moaned softly as she angled her mouth against Naomi's. They held each other for a moment before they parted. Emily's tongue flitted out and touched her top lip as she sank back to her regular height. "Hum," she said. She smiled dreamily and looked up at Naomi.

"Was that okay?"

"Hum, ho, yes," Emily said, looking up at Naomi and grinning. "Yeah. Yeah, that was... yeah."

Naomi smiled. "Well... you made me speechless at the beginning of the night. Looks like we're even."

"Looks like," Emily said. The lift doors opened with a ding and Emily sighed. "I'd invite you in for tea, but... we probably wouldn't end up drinking very much tea."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I don't have any tea."

Naomi laughed and kissed Emily again, just to the left of her eyebrow. "That's okay. I really should get home and rest."

"Just so long as you want to come upstairs," Emily said teasingly.

Naomi touched a loose strand of Emily's hair and bent down to kiss her again. She slid her hand from Emily's shoulder, down to the small of her back and settled her fingers just above the curve of her rear. Her tongue flicked against Emily's teeth, her arms tightening around the other woman before releasing her. Emily staggered back a step, touched her bottom lip and nodded. "Okay. So you're willing to come upstairs."

"Oh yeah," Naomi said softly.

Emily rose on tiptoe again and kissed the corner of Naomi's mouth. "I'll call you about next week."

"Okay."

"Thank you for dinner."

"Thank you for asking me out."

Emily laughed and stepped into the elevator. As the doors began to close, Naomi put her hand out and stopped it. "Oh! I meant to ask... I know it's kind of weird, but Jones's funeral is the day after tomorrow once my shift finishes. I'll understand if you don't want to go, it being a funeral and all, but..."

"I would love to be there for you," Emily said solemnly. "Just give me a call and let me know where and when."

"Great," Naomi said. She thought and added, "You know, we've basically just booked ourselves into at least a month-long relationship."

Emily laughed. "I'll restrain my cry of horror until I'm safely in my flat."

They exchanged their good-nights and Naomi stepped back. She hated feeling needy, but she was sad even before the lift doors fully closed. Once the doors bumped shut and the lights faded, indicating that Emily was on her way up, Naomi headed for the lobby. She made it as far as the stairs.

With little thought as to how it would look, she suddenly dashed to her left. She used the banister to whip herself around at each landing, taking the stairs three at a time, huffing and puffing until she came to a stop outside the fourth floor lift door. She made it with nearly a whole second to spare. The doors opened on Emily's still smiling face and she stepped forward before she realized there was someone in front of her.

"What..."

Naomi pushed Emily against the lift wall and kissed her. She didn't care that she was sweating or how hard her heart was beating. Emily put her hands on Naomi's forearms and leaned into the kiss. Finally, Naomi pulled away and said, "Sorry. Had to... do that..."

"Do you need mouth-to-mouth?" Emily asked with a laugh.

Naomi smiled shaking her head. She stepped back, letting her touch on the shorter woman's face linger as long as she could as Emily walked past her. "Good night, Emily."

"Good night, Naomi."

She leaned against the wall and let Emily leave, for real this time. The lift doors closed on her this time and she touched her lips as the left headed down. All in all, a marvelous date.

The night was still freezing, but she felt it a little more since she was alone. She climbed into the Nissan, wishing she'd brought a jacket, and started the engine. As the heater started to circulate warm air, she stared down at the LCD radio display and smiled. "A relationship," she muttered, a slow smile crossing her features. Who would've thought?

She started the car and pulled away from the curb. She barely noticed the ride home or the trek up to her flat. She moved like a sleepwalker and dropped onto the edge of her bed in a state of bliss. She saw the blinking light on her answering machine, meaning she had a message, but decided to ignore it. Anything worth hearing was worth waiting until the morning.

x-0-x

Freddie came into the chief's office the next morning as Naomi was signing in. She glanced up at him catching his quizzical look. "What's up, Freds?"

"What the hell happened to your hair?"

"Jealous?" she asked as she walked out of the room. She reached up to ruffle his scruffy skaters haircut as she passed him.

Freddie scribbled his name into the log and hurried to catch up with her. "No, I can't tell what's different. Did you... did you cut it?"

"I changed it a little," Naomi said. "I had a... a thing last night."

This only served to confuse Freddie further. "What kind of thing? The Fireman's Gala isn't until January, right? What kind of thing did you have?"

Naomi rolled her eyes and went into the den, dropping onto the sofa. Effy Stonham was already there, having gained control of the remote and refusing to hand it over. A lunchtime rerun of Jeremy Kyle was on, shouting at some low life about how he needed to 'put something on the end of it'. Naomi made a face and said, "This is what we're watching?"

"Better than what the other mob had in mind," Effy assured her.

Naomi had no doubt about that and put her feet up on the table. Freddie stepped over her legs and sat across from her, staring hard. "Hey, Stonham, you're a woman."

"God, he's observant," Effy wondered aloud.

"What the hell did Campbell do to her hair?"

Effy glanced over and said, "She got highlights, I think. Right?"

Naomi shrugged, smiling a little.

"Did you have a... a date?" Freddie asked, eyes gleaming.

"Freddie..." she growled, hoping she sounded threatening.

Effy slid to the edge of the couch, suddenly intrigued. "Ooh, gossip... I love it. Who was the lucky guy?"

Freddie barked a laugh and said, "With Campbell, every guy on the planet Earth is the lucky guy."

Naomi punched his leg and Freddie hooted, rubbing the spot where she'd hit him.

"What?" Effy asked.

"It wasn't a guy," Freddie said in a stage-whisper.

"Frederick!" Naomi hissed, unleashing the man's seldom-used full first name. It was the equivalent of a mother using all three names to call her child. He jumped as if she'd slapped his face gently, eyes wide. "Would you please...?"

He held up his hands. "I'm sorry, Naomi."

Naomi sighed and shrugged. She looked at Effy and held her hands out. "It was a woman."

"Oh," Effy said. Realization finally dawned on her face on she leaned back. "Oh, I see. Well... uh, w-what did... oh, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

Freddie scratched the back of his head and tried to make a dignified exit, muttering "Excuse me," as he stepped over Naomi's legs. He was halfway out of the den before he turned around. "Hey, Naomi... didn't you wanna talk to Tomone about something?"

"Right," Naomi said, half-forgetting the arsonist in the afterglow of her first date with Emily. "Is he here?"

"Right outside."

She stood and followed Freddie into the apparatus bay, surprised to see Tomone was speaking with the second person she'd been trying to contact. Fire Marshall Bill Martin was standing with the Chief in the garage door. Martin was an older man with a shock of white hair rising from the crown of his head. It was swept back, reminding her of an aging rooster. He had a pair of round eyeglasses perpetually perched on the edge of his nose, his pear-shaped middle threatening every belt she'd ever seen him wear.

She approached carefully, giving Tomone the opportunity to see her and wave her off if necessary. He glanced over and, instead of asking for a moment, motioned her forward. "Campbell. Bill tells me you were trying to get hold of him this weekend, he left you a message."

"Yeah, and you, too, boss," Naomi said.

"Oh. I had a..."

"It's all right, I know," Naomi interrupted him. She looked at Marton and said, "But if this is a bad time..."

The arson investigator shook his head. "No, we were actually trying to find you last night. What do you know about Sophia Moore?"

Naomi blinked. Of all the questions she expected, this was nowhere on the list. "Well... uh, I don't know much. She inherited her father's development and architect company a few years back. Guess it's been about a couple of years now. She's maybe overly concerned with fire inspections..."

"Has a little crush on you, doesn't she?" Tomone asked, without smiling or laughing.

Naomi stifled a groan. She was hoping this would never come up. "Well... she likes me. Requests me to do the routine inspections of her new buildings. Did something happen to her?"

"No, no," Martin said. "She came into the office today, had some information about the last two fires. Apparently, both of the buildings were Moore Development projects back in the day. They were built before she took over, but she thought there might be some kind of connection."

"Have you determined the fires were set?" Tomone asked.

"Looks that way. Fuel all over the place, down the stairs, in pretty much every nook and cranny. The back doors in both buildings were forced open, so we're thinking a group or two groups of kids were messing around, wanted to see a building burn. You guys have any kids in your lookie-loos?"

"Who knows?" Tomone sighed. "I stopped paying attention a long time ago."

"I didn't see anyone," Naomi said. "Moore thinks someone is targeting her buildings specifically?"

Martin shrugged. "Yeah, well, she's probably just paranoid." He sniffed and leaned against the wall. "Does she strike you as the kind of woman someone would target?"

Naomi sighed. "I don't know... I don't think so. She's an absolute pest, but going to these lengths just to get back at her or annoy her? I doubt it."

"Well, just kind of wanted a character witness, you know. Make sure we weren't just dismissing it out of hand." He shook Tomone's hand, making it disappear within his own meaty mitt and nodded at Naomi. "Nice to see you again, Ms. Campbell."

Naomi said good-bye to him and walked with Tomone towards his office. "That take care of what you called me about?" he asked.

"Not really," Naomi admitted. She waited until they were behind the truck, lowering her voice to keep anyone from overhearing. "I wanted to talk to you about the possibility that Moore isn't the target of these fires. We might be."

Tomone frowned. "What makes you say that?" he asked as he guided her towards her office. He shut the door behind them and offered her a seat on the couch while he headed behind the desk.

"Jones was killed in a flashover. Cook was injured in one, but it was a midget in comparison."

"You're certain it was a flashover?" Tomone asked.

Naomi nodded. "I saw the smoke seeping in around the door, but it was too late to do anything about it. As soon as he's had time to go over the investigation, I want to ask Sophia about the rooms where the flashover started."

"Well, if you're thinking the fires were flashovers, you already know what the rooms looked like; trash on top of trash, probably on top of old furniture, all of it on fire. It ate up all the oxygen in the room and when Cook and Jones opened the doors..." He let his words trail off.

"It's not the floor plan I'm interested in," she said. "It'll probably look normal, but if you look at it from the point of view of someone setting a trap..."

"A trap?"

Naomi pressed her lips together. "Cook was only burnt. It was bad, yes. But he survived and he'll be back in a few weeks."

"Actually, a couple of days," Tomone corrected. "But that doesn't mean anything. I've been in most every house you have and I know what you've seen. Piles of newspaper, piles of clothes, chimneys that have never had the dignity of being cleaned... half the people in this town are living in matchboxes without even knowing it. If you were looking specifically for a trap, every one of those fires would look suspicious."

"It's not just the flashover part. I'll concede that the majority of rooms I've seen have been less than fire-safe. But the escalation... surely you have to see that. The second fire, less than a day later, was like the first one on steroids. Someone was watching and saw that they didn't have enough oomph behind their blast. So they doubled up and made sure they took someone out."

"Okay, say this is true. We're trained to see things like evidence of a flashover. They're supposed to see it like a big, flashing neon sign that says 'stay out.' Unless he was..." He caught himself and looked away.

Naomi picked up. "Unless he was counting on someone screwing up or letting the probie go first."

"I didn't say that."

"Doesn't make it any less true. I know I screwed up, Chief. Jones is dead because of me and I have to live with that. Maybe whoever set the fire knows enough to set the trap, but not enough to know we look for those signs. Maybe he didn't realize the trap would be so obvious."

"You're saying he just got lucky with Jones?"

As much as it sickened her to admit, Naomi nodded and said, "Yes. The fact that I let Jones go in first played right into this sick bastard's plan."

Tomone rested his chin in his hand, staring blankly at the wall above her head. "Okay. So this guy isn't targeting Miss Moore, he's trying to kill firefighters. Why?"

"We won't know why until we know who. Maybe not even then."

"Okay. Then get Holt down here and get everyone into the kitchen. Gonna have a little meeting."

She stood. "Where is Holt?"

"Weight room," Tomone said.

She whistled. "Again?"

Tomone shrugged. "Some say he only took Cook's shifts so he could use our stuff."

Naomi laughed and headed out, gathering Effy and Freddie before heading to the stairs to grab Holt off the bench press. He grunted when she told him there was a meeting in the kitchen and followed her like a trained bear to the kitchen. As she took her seat at the table, Tomone clapped both hands together and said, "All right, the reason I asked you all here..."

"One of us killed old Lady Hargrove for her fortune," Freddie said with a surprisingly convincing British upper class accent.

Before Tomone could say anything in reply, the alarm began to sound. Fleming, again fielding the calls, intoned the information of address and situation. Nothing major, but enough that the ladder and engine were both going. Naomi slid into her bunkers like a second skin, climbed onto the truck and took her regular seat.

As the truck pulled from the garage, she took a look around and saw half of her crew had been replaced since their last shift. Robert Holt was in Cook's normal position up front, while Effy Stonham was sitting next to her in the back of the cab. It felt foreign, as if she was hitching a ride with a bunch of strangers.

Freddie, however, made it feel like home. He pounded the roof and whooped, making Naomi smile and making Holt blanch slightly. The radio crackled and Tomone came over the air. "Okay, I'm going to have to do it this way. I want everyone to be on their toes on this call. We lost two guys this week; I'm not losing any more."

"You heard Fleming, Chief," Freddie called back. "Gas leak. Easy-peasy."

"They're all easy until some jackass lets his guard down." He paused and then added, "Don't be that arsehole, Fredster."

Freddie laughed and said, "I will do my level best, boss."

Ignoring Freddie's laughter up front, Naomi checked her helmet to make sure it was held tight. Securing the strap, she prayed that staying safe would be as simple as paying a little extra attention for a while. A little hyper-vigilance never hurt anyone. She crossed her fingers and took a cue from Jones, closing her eyes to whisper a quick prayer.

x-0-x

The gas leak was routine stuff. Get the engine in the street, go door to door and get the people out, sit around and wait for the gas company to come out and fix the problem. After evacuating a few house, Naomi and Effy started venturing inside to open a few windows to air out the buildings. They repeated all the information they had over and over again as they ushered the residents out of their homes and down the stairs of they were in flats.

"It's all right, ma'am," Naomi was saying, helping an old lady step out of her home. "Your knitting will still be there when you get back."

"Well, that Mr. Preston a few doors down... he sometimes likes to get into things that aren't his... you'll take care of that, right, Officer? You'll make sure he doesn't take anything of mine?"

Naomi nodded, not bothering to correct the woman. If the first five corrections hadn't stuck... She simply said, "Mr. Preston will be escorted out just like you are. We're getting everyone out and then we need to wait until the gas company fix the leak. All right? All your stuff will be fine."

"Okay, but if Mr. Preston gets back in first, he better not come into my house."

"If he robs you, call the police station and ask for Officer Naomi, okay?"

Effy stifled a laugh, pulling the old woman's door shut. Once the resident was waddling down the street, Naomi turned and exhaled, shaking her head. "Little old lady thinks her afghan is the Holy Grail or something."

"Amazing," Effy muttered. She followed Naomi up to the next house. "Tell people their home is in danger of bursting into flames and they suddenly have all this stuff they have to do. Do they just not get that, if their home explodes, it won't matter if their clothes are in the washing machine or not?"

"It's the 'never-happen-to-me' syndrome," Naomi said. "No one believes it will be their building because that only happens in the movies and on the news. It's up to us to impart reality to them."

Effy sighed and said, "Yeah, well, it'd be much easier to just stand on the street with a megaphone and say 'Come out now! We'll meet you here and offer you cookies.'"

Naomi laughed. At daytime, low-danger calls like this, more often than not, housewives and older women in the neighbourhood brought out cookies, lemonade and other refreshments for the firefighters with nothing better to do. The older women were looking for someone to mother, while the housewives were checking out the hot male firefighters. "Oh, yeah. What do you bet Freddie rushes through his part and grabs all the cookies?"

"I'm not taking that bet," Effy said. Reaching their respective houses, they knocked and simultaneously called, "Fire service!"

x-0-x

Despite the disparaging tone most people adopted when speaking about it, Emily loved taking the bus. It gave her time to read or, on days when her shift was particularly relentless, take a quick nap. This morning - or afternoon, really, since it was inching towards three - she was heading home after spending a hectic morning shift trying to reign in a man who'd accidentally shot himself with a nail gun. She was taking the time to enjoy a great novel she had recently stumbled over.

She was so eagerly enjoying her current chapter that she hardly noticed how long they had been sitting at what she assumed to be a red light. She finally looked up when the man in front of her turned around and sighed, "Can you believe this?"

She marked her place in the book when she realized he was speaking directly to her. She looked around and asked, "Why? What's going on?"

"Firemen have the whole street shut down. Traffic's backed up... it's going to take forever to clear this mess up." He checked his watch and slumped against the seat, turning to look fully at her. "This is just irritating, you know... I've got a big meeting to get to and, wouldn't you know it, my Beemer picks today to break down."

Emily smiled. "Aw. I'll be sure to tell my girlfriend what a terrible, terrible day you had." When he turned back around to face front, she slid out of her seat and moved to the opposite side to look down at the disturbance.

Firefighters were swarming around a large house a few hundred yards ahead, beyond the roadblock. She couldn't make out many details, but if she squinted she could just barely make out the names on the backs of their coats. She spotted a Stonham and McClair - with his height, he was almost unmistakable, even at this distance - and...

There! She spotted a tall, slender woman exit the building and stand with Freddie and Stonham. Something in the way she moved, as the old Beatles song said, but the coat confirmed it: Campbell. That was Naomi. She smiled and resisted the urge to slap the window like some giddy little schoolgirl trying to get her crush's attention. The bus inched forward and she moved her head as a street light moved in to disturb her view. Naomi spoke with her coworkers for a few moments and then headed down the pavement towards the traffic jam.

"She's walking this way!" Emily whispered.

"Who?" the alleged BMW-owner asked.

"Never mind."

As the two firefighters approached, Emily was surprised to see that Stonham was also a woman. She could tell that she and Naomi were talking, but the distance was too great to make out any words. When the two women made it within three car lengths of the bus, Emily reached up to open the window and shout before she thought better of it. She'd never seen Naomi at work, never seen her in full uniform for that matter. The urge to spy on her was too great to pass up.

Two men in jumpsuits from British Gas met them halfway and the little group paused next to the bus driver's window. Naomi seemed close enough to touch, but she looked like such a different woman. The helmet overshadowed her face, the high collar of her coat reached up and brushed her cheek when she turned to indicate the building.

As Naomi and Stonham turned to lead the gas company men down the street, Emily felt a surge of pride. She felt like every proud parent who had ever seen their child in a school play, every sideline father who saw his son score the winning cup final goal. She wanted to grab the BMW-jerk and point out the window and tell him that was her girlfriend.

That was her girlfriend.