Golden Threads
Disclaimer: I don't own 9-1-1. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Three:
Evan's first week at Firehouse 118 flies by. He sells into the station's established routines easily, develops a comfortable rapport with his coworkers, finds in his work a sense of career satisfaction he thought the Navy had stripped from him years ago.
All the same, he's glad to have the next four days off. The California swing-shift rotation seems utterly baffling to him, but ultimately, four days off is four days off, and Evan's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"We'll have to do a team dinner this weekend," Hen says over their midnight 'lunch', "Welcome you to the 118 properly."
"Have I not been welcomed already?"
"Not properly, you haven't."
"I vote we have Mexican," Martinez opines.
Martinez is a third generation American, and his forbearers immigrated from Columbia. There isn't a drop of Mexico in him, but -
"You always vote for Mexican," Chim grouses.
"That's because it's delicious."
"Tacos are life, man," Evan agrees.
"See," Martinez gesticulates animatedly, "He gets it. You, on the other hand - You're a disgrace."
Chimney opens his mouth to reply with something presumably scathing, but Bobby interjects before he can say a word.
"Keep it civil, gentlemen."
"You got it, Boss," Martinez acquiesces. Chimney nods, stewing.
"Back to the matter at hand," Hen continues, undeterred by the others' clash, "Is everyone free this weekend?"
He has his bi-monthly game night with a few friends he'd made at the VA on Friday. A boot camp style exercise class on Saturday morning, and an outing with his 'little brother' that afternoon. Sunday brunch with his mother-in-law. Assorted chores.
"I'm free on Saturday night."
"I can do Saturday," Chimney opines.
"Me too," Martinez agrees.
Under their expectant gazes, Bobby acquiesces, "Saturday works."
"Saturday, then," Hen determines, "No Mexican, no Korean Barbecue. Any requests, Buck?"
"Oh, uh, there's this Middle Eastern restaurant downtown that's supposed to be really good. I've been hoping to try it for ages, but it's banquet style, so…"
Hen blinks, surprised, but acquiesces with a combination nod-shrug thing. "I'm game. Guys?"
"I'm always happy to try new food," Bobby contributes.
Martinez and Chimney are ambivalent, but Evan's suddenly a lot more enthusiastic about their team dinner than he had been. He's not sure he's reached a point where he'd voluntarily spend time with his coworkers outside of work, but if it means he gets something beyond an inquisition out of the deal…
"I'll make a booking, then," he says, "Table for five? At, say, seven o'clock?"
"And text us the details," Hen agrees.
That requires an exchange of contact information, but it doesn't take long before he has everyone's details. It takes even less time for the conversation to move along to other things - weekend plans, mostly - though not without more clashes between Chimney and Martinez.
"What's the deal with them?"
Henrietta shrugs. "There are people you vibe with, and then there are those you don't. They work together well enough, but downtime can get… messy."
Evan grimaces. "That's rough."
"Martinez has been hoping to transfer into C shift - or maybe into a different firehouse completely," Hen informs him, "He's just been waiting for someone else to join our team. It's hard enough being a man down, never mind two. He practically danced a jig when he found out Bobby had recruited you."
"But he hasn't left yet?"
"He'll wait until you're trained up a bit, I think."
"That makes sense," Evan concedes.
It's too bad though. Martinez is a good firefighter, confident and capable, and Evan works well with him, but no one wants tension on a team that regularly deals with high-risk, high-pressure situations, and given that Hen and Chimney are essentially a packaged deal, Martinez's choice is only logical.
Hen hums her agreement. "Means you'd better shape up fast, though."
"No pressure, or anything."
"No pressure," Hen agrees, but Evan's not so sure he believes her.
Despite that, the rest of their post-dinner cleanup is spent in easy, effortless conversation about shows and films they've both seen, and it's nice, but it doesn't last. Rather, they are called out to a fire in South Central LA, and therefore, there are far more important things to occupy their attention.
"How are you going?" Martinez asks later. They're on their way back to the firehouse, sweat-soaked and soot-stained after a job well done, and Evan's thoughts are on the shower awaiting him back at the station. "You did well back there."
"Thanks," Evan glances at the other firefighter, offers him a slight smile, and shrugs. He's new to the Fire and Rescue gig, but he's not new to high-intensity, high-stake situations, and so he tries not to feel patronised by Martinez's praise. He means well. "I just did what needed doing."
"You kept your head, followed orders, showed initiative when required. Not everyone does so well their first week in."
Evan thinks back to Hen's words from earlier, to the thoughtless, throwaway joke that he'd better shape up fast, and he wonders if her words were intentional - A warning.
"If I'm going to lose my shit over running into a burning building, then I probably picked the wrong job."
"And yet you'd be surprised by how many rookie firefighters actually do," Martinez counters.
"Did you?"
"Are you kidding? All of this adrenaline junkie shit is what I live for."
Evan nods. "I get that."
The conversation turns to their respective adventures, white water rafting and bungee jumping and then some, and Evan forgets to ask Martinez about his prospective transfer. Instead, the other firefighter regales Evan with his plans to hike the Appalachian Trail, and he isn't diverted from the subject until they reach the station.
As they go about the business of their usual, post-callout routine, Evan doesn't get another opportunity to question Martinez.
His answers will just have to wait.