Trigger Warning: There is sexual assault in this chapter. I will make an author's note summing up this chapter at the start of Ch. 11 who may not want the details of what happens.

Jenny was still riding the high of Wednesday's shift over at Station 18 and then another great shift at the hospital. Her body felt like it was going to burst with joy and she just wanted someone to share it with. But David was on shift. It had been a while since she had spoken to her friend, Linda, who was also a firefighter. She grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and began to dial Linda's number on the phone hanging on the wall of the kitchen.

After three rings, Linda answered the phone.

"Yo, who's this?" Linda answered. Jen stifled a chuckle. It always caught her off guard when she talked to Linda. She was usually a brash, tell-it-like-it-is type of woman. Almost a polar opposite of Jennifer.

"It's Jen. How have you been?" Jennifer piped up.

"Chica! How are you? Oh my goodness, we got called to an apartment fire last week. Let me tell you about it." Linda had a way of telling a story. Mainly her way was going around in fast circles for several minutes but her excitement grabbed hold of the listener. This story was no different. She spoke about the saves she had working on Quint 33. It was a large, bustling station out in Lancaster, California. She ended the story with, "it's terrible that there's all those people without a place to stay, but damn we did good! What have you been up to? How's your shadowing coming along?"

"Well, yesterday I go to deliver a baby over at 18s. So, that was cool. I'm hoping that 110s will be just as good," Jennifer said. Jennifer the polar opposite left it like that. She was quick to the point and a bit bashful. She wasn't the adrenaline junkie that a lot of the firefighters were, including Linda. She paused for a second trying to work out her question. "How have the guys taken to you?"

"Aww, 33's got a good group. I mean we've got a big crew so not all of them are going to like me, which they don't know what they're missing. It also helps that we have a battalion chief here. He's kind of by the books and new to the position. The guys are still trying to figure out what they can and can't get away with," she explained. "How's things been with you shadowing crews."

Jennifer explained the harassment that she had seen at most of the stations. She would hear loud whispers of how women are bitches or cunts. She felt disgusted walking into the stations. Then there was the playboys and neglige and other harassment.

Linda beamed about her playboy collection that she had developed from the gifts of her fellow firefighters during the first few weeks. She made it a point to make the men uncomfortable by reading it in the lounge area and showing naked pictures to others. She had done such a wonderful job, that they stopped wasting their money on the magazines for her. A small part of her missed the articles in the magazine.

Linda's advice was to just suck it up and give it right back. Jennifer hated hearing this advice. She wished she could be more like Linda, but she just wasn't. Maybe it was the sheltered life that her family had given her or the false hope that she could do anything she put her mind to.

"Hey, so I met some other badass firefighters. There's four other women in the department. Did you know that?" Linda asked.

Jennifer could not fathom how few women there were in the fire department. There were only six in total. It took her a moment to process, but Linda wouldn't give her much time.

"There's Barbie, I met her at the fire. It was a huge fire, let me tell you. She's on A shift too. So she tells me there's another woman on A shift and two on B. We ended up having breakfast with a girl named Caitie McCreary. We're going out for drinks tomorrow since none of us are working. You need to come out."

Jennifer wasn't a big drinker and usually reserved in big social gatherings. A small part of her needed to meet these women. To see if maybe one of them had similar personalities. Or maybe confirm that she is just different from the rest.

The next morning, she was getting ready for another day on the squad. This time she was placed at Station 110 C shift. She said a silent prayer as she walked up to the door.

She pressed the doorbell and was greeted by the Captain. "You must be Firefighter DeSoto. Welcome to the 110. I'm Captain Engle." He held out his hand and smiled.

She let out the breath that she held. It was the first time a Captain smiled at her and called her a firefighter. Usually it was, "so you're the girl?" Or just a grumble.

She grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Nice to meet you, Captain Engle. Call me Jenny."

"Come on, I'll show you to the locker room so you can change." Captain Engle placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the station bay. A sign that said "Lady's Room" was taped near the bottom of the door. "You just hang it up high and the guys should leave you alone in here. If they don't, you let me know." He positioned the sign up to eye level, opened the door and announced that a lady was coming in. He heard no protests so he ushered her in.

To the right were three shower stalls, two sinks, and two toilet stalls. To the left were three rows of lockers. "I got you one in the back corner that you can use." He led the way to the back row and showed Jennifer her locker, which was the last one of the row tucked away in the corner.

"Thanks Captain. I really do appreciate the hospitality," she smiled as relief washed over her. She began to unpack her gear bag that held her turnouts. Since she did not have a station assigned yet, she carried her turnouts with her, until her assignment came down from headquarters, which was to be in about three weeks.

"Listen, I know that some guys don't want women in the firehouse, but I can appreciate it. Especially as someone as pretty as you." His eyes moved slowly from her head down to her feet, taking in her youthful appearance. She just smiled, unsure of how to respond. The hair on the back of her neck started to stand. A sense of unease rippled through her body. Her heart started racing and it was as if she could hear her heartbeats pounding away at her eardrums.

As he took a step closer, she took a step back. She was forced to play this dance. His one foot forward, her one step back. The coolness from the brick penetrated her shirt as her back was pressed to the wall. There was nowhere else to go. She was trapped. But still, he took another step forward. His hand slid under her shirt and to the side of her waist and worked its way up to her chest. His second hand followed to her other breast. Her heart was racing and her was throat dry. This wasn't happening, she thought. After taking a moment to fondle her chest, his hands caressed her stomach as he worked his way down south. He slipped his fingers under her panties. She closed her eyes. Her heart was racing and she struggled to find her breath. She whispered "stop" or at least she thought she did. She wasn't sure if he didn't hear or didn't want to hear her request to stop. At that moment, her mind went far away from the locker room.

"Man coming in. I got to piss!" yelled one of the paramedics. It was enough to bring her back to reality. She heard quick footsteps and the opening and closing of the stall.

Captain Engle's hands quickly moved out of her panties as he tried to hide from being caught. His mouth was only an inch away from her ear. "Good to have you at the station." He gave her a quick kiss below her ear before pulling himself away from the lockers. As he walked towards the door, she let out the breath that she held.

"Goddammit, Mitchell! Respect the sign and give the girl some privacy. She's about ready to change."

Her body collapsed onto the bench in front of her locker. I can't be here, she thought. Then she realized maybe it wasn't just this station, but the fire department. Her thoughts were racing. How could I have let him do that? Why didn't I stop him? Why did I let my guard down? she continued to blame herself instead of the Captain.

It was a struggle to complete her shift. The paramedics had to fill out a report critiquing the paramedic trainee after shift, which would be turned in to the Captain. What they saw was a person who struggled to focus on the task at hand, especially when the whole station was called out. What they didn't know that her focus was making sure she kept a distance away from the Captain. The trainee was quiet and did not socialize or act in a team manner. But that was from her trying to build a wall up that no one else could penetrate.

Time moved slowly during her shift. Her bladder felt as if it would burst later in the day. She swore to not go into that bathroom again, except to retrieve her items before she left. At the end of her shift, she didn't even bother to change out of her uniform and instead wore it home.

When she got home, she closed the door and stood facing the door. She tried to tell herself that this was a safe space. It was going to be okay. David was surprised to see her in her uniform. "Still showing off your stork pin?" he joked.

She made no acknowledgment. She carried her bag to her room, gathered a change of clothes and brought them into the bathroom. Her usual ten-minute shower turned into a twenty-minute shower as she attempted to scrub away at every inch of her body that the Captain had touched. The water began to turn cold and it felt like ice pellets hitting her skin. With all her might, she got out of the shower. In the past twenty minutes, she was working out the best way to handle the situation. She needed to make sure that she would never be sexually assaulted at work again. She needed to protect herself, unlike what she did earlier.

When she emerged from the shower, she was now sporting lounge pants and a long sleeve shirt. She wanted to hide not only her shame but also her body. She went back to her room and grabbed a notebook and pen. She lumbered to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer and the bottle opener. While balancing the beers, bottle opener, the notebook, and pen she went to the dining room table and sat down. David watched her from the couch. This was a Jennifer that he had never seen before and one that he hoped he would never see again.

She popped both caps off the bottles and started guzzling the first bottle. David knew that Jennifer usually felt tipsy after a half bottle. He sat down at the table where he made a move to drink the first bottle. It was something that the two would normally do while watching a game on tv. He would have one bottle, she would work on her half bottle, and he would finish the rest of her bottle. When his hand was close to the undrunk bottle, he reached out and began drinking from the second bottle.

"Was there a bad call? What happened?" He asked again. He peered over her shoulder, as she started writing.

"Dear Captain Errickson,

I regret to inform you that I must resign from the Los Angeles County Fire Department. I appreciate the time and effort that most of the men have provided me.

Sincerely,

Jennifer"

She ripped it from the notebook and wadded it up. She tossed it to the far end of the table. It continued again and again and again. For thirty minutes she wrote, she got up and retrieved more beers, chugged them down, and wrote again and again.

Her last letter only had a few legible words and half of those were words that would make a man blush. She stumbled as she made her way to the refrigerator, but David was there to help her. He placed his hand around her waist to keep her from falling. She instantly stood at attention and pushed him away. The movement threw her off balance, causing her to bang her arm into the chair as her body fell to the ground. "Goddammit!" she yelled. She pulled her legs into her chest and began to cry.

David didn't know what to do or how to handle the situation. He sat down across from her and waited about ten minutes, even though it felt like an eternity. Soon he heard snores, she was officially out.

He stood up and bent over to pick her up. He cradled her body and carried her to her room. He placed her on her bed and grabbed a blanket to cover her with. He then grabbed the largest mixing bowl he could find to put beside her nightstand, just in case she couldn't make it to the toilet.

He stared from her doorway, checking for signs of life and wondering what happened. He made his way to the living room, where he took several moments to pace and think about what had happened. He went over to the letters and began to unravel them, hoping that some clue would pop out at him. What he found was a woman who had seen or was victim to something so horrific that she was giving up something that just months ago, she was so passionate about.