Lets get the disclaimer out of the way: I do not make money off this, and i do no own anything 9-1-1 or Chicago Fire related. If i did, i wouldn't have left Peter Mills leave. LOL
So this story was stuck in my head for awhile, and while I am a horrible author (Bad at updating in a timely fashion), this story would not leave me alone. So this infection is now yours, i hope you enjoy.
Just some disclaimers, this isn't a 'happy' story for the 118. This is set after the lawsuit in season 3 of 9-1-1, where the team (AKA Eddie) is cold to Buck. While my goal is not to bash anyone, Buck isn't going to consider the 118 his friends.
And no, this will not be an Eddie/Buck story pairing. While i have no issue with the pairing, I got tired of the 'Eddie is cruel to Buck but yet Buck takes his back' prompts on this lawsuit ark.
So instead you get this. Be warn this is a Kelly Severide/Buck Buckley Pairing. If that does not float your boat, then i ask you skip this story. I had never picture those two together, but then it started popping up by some wonderful authors, and i couldn't help. I fell for the pairing.
Any mistake are mine.
Chapter 1:
The Floater
Kelly Severide, with a smile on his face and squinting under the bright sun, pulls up at firehouse 51 in his mustang. He lingers in his car for a few seconds as he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the day. Being Chicago air, it is no way fresh, a forever charred aroma hanging in the air, but man, there's something special or refreshing in it. He lets the wind kiss his face for a firm minute before he musters the will to move. And man, it is battle, even if he loves his job. Without meaning to, the door to his mustang slams shut due to a particular strong gust of wind when he goes to close it.
His eye twitches for a second before the frustration rolls right off him, as that, even if it is his number one ruler regarding his car, isn't going to bring down his day. Why? Because he is going to have a good day. Why does today feel like a good day? No clue. He has no reason. He just awoke up with a smile on his face and he's going to keep it as long as he could. He may have awoken up alone for the past week, but yet, he's relaxed. It's odd, but he isn't going to second guess a good day, especially in his line of work.
"Hey, Casey," he greets, noticing his best friend stepping out of his beat-up truck.
"Morning." Casey waves. In one hand is his worn overnight bag, and in the other is a cup of steaming coffee.
Kelly smiles as he falls in line next to Casey in the driveway. "How was your weekend?" he asks, running his tongue over his bottom lip. The cheeky grin on his face is asking one thing specially. Did his best friend get lucky? He bumps shoulders with Casey. "Have fun?"
Casey huffs. "Why do you always go there?"
"Why not?" Kelly shrugs. He ignores the dramatic eyeroll directed at him and looks forward the firehouse. Members from the first shift start to filter out one by one, each looking both exhausted and excited…besides one. The unfamiliar, oddball firefighter looks…lost? The familiar emotion hits Kelly like a closed first. However, it is gone in an instant, and Kelly isn't sure he even sees that raw remotion before it's masked behind utter exhaustion. If the other members of the First Shift didn't have smiles on their face, he would've thought they had a rough shift. Unable to place a name to the face, Kelly isn't sure if this is normal for the guy.
"Floater," Casey replies as if he can read Kelly's mind.
Nodding a response, Kelly's eyes follow the man, tracking his path to his vehicle. "How is he a floater?" he asks, his eyes going wide. The man in question looks nothing like the 'normal' floaters that Kelly has topically seen. Most floaters are either rookies unable to find a permanent home or firefighters who no one wants for some reason or not. Kelly doesn't like to think of anyone as unwanted, it leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but it's true. These firefighters are rough, and that's putting it lightly. Again, this isn't for all floater, but they tend to be slower, heavier, and/or less motivated. Kelly knows not all firefights are not built or created the same, but man, why be a firefighter if you aren't going to put in work? This floater is neither of those things, appearing to be in better shape than most of the people in Kelly's own house. Shit, he probably gives Kelly a run for his money.
Casey gives the guy a quick once over before shrugging. "Could be for a few reasons."
Kelly hums, thinking, as the floater, several feet from them, passes by Casey and him without a single word. Unable to stop himself, Kelly follows the physically fit man with his eyes. Like all floaters, the man takes his gear with him to every firehouse he fills in, and his turnover gear is hanging over his shoulder. Kelly's eyes, moving on their own, travels to the bottom of the turnover coat to the floater's last name: 'Buckley.' For some ungodly reason, Kelly stares—hard core stare-, almost walking into Casey who stares at him wildly.
"Severide," Casey calls, both shoving and directing Kelly away from walking into a wall.
"What?" Kelly utters as he nails Matt Casey with a playful glare.
"Stop staring. It's creepy."
Kelly rolls his eyes as he sneaks one more glance at Buckley, who has thrown his gear into the back and gotten in his Jeep with California plates. Wait? California plates. So, he is new new. "No one would find me creepy." Kelly shots him a cheesy smile.
Casey rolls his eyes once more. "I'm sure we can find someone." He replies as they step into the firehouse, though not getting too far in before something shiny catches his eyes. "Woa," he utters, spotting the spotless trucks. "Who got sent to the dog house?"
Chatting with Herrmann, Lieutenant O'Brien, a bag in his right hand, turns to them and speaks, "No one. I was just telling Herrmann here it was the floater."
"He pissed you off?"
O'Brien loudly snorts. "No. He's anything but." He throws his arm back, holding his bag over his shoulder. "Buckley was the least annoying person of the night. He did this on his own."
"Oh, really?" Casey asks, a distrustful look in his eyes.
"Yes, really," The Lieutenant shots back. "Buckley, without one word, kept busy the entire night."
Kelly, surprised, takes a long look around the apparatus, noting how each truck shined. "He must've been out here for hours." He utters, as his mind drifts, and questions fill his head. Why would a floater worry about the state of a firehouse he's visiting? Does it even matter? He asks himself. Kelly pushes thoughts of the floater out of his mind and continue his way to locker room to start a day, ignoring the rest of Herrmann, O'Brien, and Casey's conversion. For the next few days, any thoughts of Buckley vanish.
*O*O*
A few weeks pass before he hears the name 'Buckley' again (by someone who is not his best friend teasing him), and like most shifts, Kelly is sitting at the squad table, his eyes focus on the playing cards in his hands. Ferraris and Capp are giving him 'You're going down' looks in the most competitive game that Kelly has played in a while. Cruz has already folded and is intent to simply watch, while he cleans his boots. Kelly isn't sure what Cruz's master plan is, making odd squeaks every time someone lays down a card, but it is driving him nuts.
From the corner of his eyes, he can see Stella and Brett chatting by the ambulance. His heart pings as a faded memories flashes before his eyes. At times, he deeply misses Stella. He shoves those thoughts away and refocuses on the game. Ferraris flicks the top right corner of the card, a tell when he thinks he has a good hand.
"What are we betting here?" Capp teases as he waves his cards.
"The loser gets truck washing duties for the month?" Ferraris offers up.
Kelly rolls his eyes as he throws down the gently worn cards on the table. He eyes the dry coffee ring on the back of the card before he speaks, "Two rich for my blood." He has no interest in washing the truck for a month. With a smile, he gets to feet. "You two go for it."
Capp leans forward. "Oh, really, Lieutenant?"
Kelly shakes his head, not feeling in the mood for the playful teasing from the guys. "Cruz, make sure these two play fair." Cruz glances up from his boots and smiles, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. No one is over Otis' death yet, but it weighs heavier on Cruz, adding a load that very few people understand. Kelly knows that feeling all too well when Leslie died, a hole opening in his chest. Years may have passed, but the overwhelming guilt and sadness still hangs in his soul.
"On it." Cruz replies.
With a nod, Kelly makes his way to the kitchen area, his mind focusing on getting a drink. He scans the room quickly, taking a quick note of who is here. Like always, Mouch is front of the television, his feet on the table and a drink in hand. Gallo, who has finally started to settle in, and Ritter are bouncing ideas back at each other, regarding what to make for lunch. Simple is always best for those two, but they never do simple. Kelly eyes them, silently asking himself for the 9th time who put those two in charge of food. No, he isn't the best cook, and no, he isn't going to offer to make lunch/dinner for the entire firehouse, but man, he worries about any dish they create.
Casey and Herrmann, a clip board between them, are sitting at the table discussing names for the next shift. After grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator, Kelly takes a seat across from them. He isn't sure what they're discussing, but it's better than his other choices.
"Got tired of Ferraris and Capp?" Casey asks, looking up.
"A guy can only take so much," Kelly responds. "So what are you two up to?" He motions to the clip board. He can't read what's on it, but he can tell that it's names.
"One of the guys is going away for a week, and I need a floater." Herrmann answers. "So we are looking through the available floaters. Most of these people are…" he shakes his head, cutting off his sentence with a harsh sigh. He keeps the unflattering words to himself.
"Are floaters for a reason." Casey finishes in a nice way.
"That isn't to say some aren't better than the others." Kelly says, and without asking, reaches for the clipboard. He has been lucky for the last few months, not needing a floater. Knock on wood. He looks down the list, noticing the name 'Buckley.' The image of Buckley leaving the firehouse flashes before his eyes, his shirt not hiding his fit body. How is Buckley still a floater? "What about Buckley?"
Casey gives Kelly a hard stare. "Don't think he would want to be creeped on."
Kelly exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. "I don't creep on people." It may have been weeks, but Casey hasn't let him live that stare he has given Buckley down. He has no idea why Casey is on his ass about it.
"You stared at him as he got into his car."
"Did not."
Herrmann glances between the two, but he doesn't comment on their odd conversion. However, Kelly can see the judgment in his eyes. "Yea, he's my first choice. Been hearing good things about him."
Casey shots him a look. "Then why did you ask for my opinion."
With a sheepish smile, Herrmann replies, "I know as Captain you like-"
"Yea, yea," Casey replies, red in the face. No doubt recalling the fight he and Herrmann once had over a floater in the past. "You don't-"
The cheers of Ritter and Gallo cut through the room, interrupting every other conversion. Every head in the room snaps to them, nailing them with sharp, puzzled stares, and they shrink under the questioning gaze. Before anyone could question or ask any uncomfortable questions, the alarms rings. Perfect timing. Kelly has no interest in asking why they look like two deer in headlights.
*O*O*
The teams are unquestionably sweatier and dirtier when they roll back to the house. Foster and Brett are still out, rushing the victims to the hospital. Gallo is babying his right hand, having fallen on it as he dodged a falling, flaming debris. Judging by the stiff look on Casey's face, Gallo is about to get an earful, which is funny considering who is giving it. Casey takes just as many risks. Just like everyone—okay, not everyone—in this house. However, there are quite a few daredevils in this house. Okay, that isn't to say that Casey isn't careful. He takes calculated risks and ignores the fact that they are still risks. Gallo just takes risks.
Kelly watches Casey pull Gallo, who looks like a kick puppy, toward his office and turns away when they disappear from view. Stella catches his eyes for a second as he heads back to Squad three truck and hangs his gear on the truck's door. Whatever happened between them still burns, but Kelly has no interest in doing a deep drive into it to figure out why. It hurts too much. Instead, he focuses on Ferraris and Capp. "Okay, who lost earlier?" he asks, while staring at the forgotten playing cards.
Capp groans loudly, suddenly remembering, as a deep red blooms in his face. Ferraris smiles like he is a child in a candy factory. "I won." He leans back in his chair, smirks, and points to the cleaning supplies.
Kelly laughs as Cruz just shakes his head and heads to the kitchen. "Well, get to it." Kelly playfully ordered.
"On it." Capp replies before nailing Ferraris with a heavy glare. "Don't worry I will get you back."
"I am not worried." Ferraris snickers.
The heaviness that flourished under Shay's death weakens just a bit watching his team playfully tease each other, and Kelly feels light. There is no were else he would rather be.
*O*O*
A few shifts pass before Kelly spots the Floater Buckley in the locker room putting away his gear. Buckley is staring intently at the floater locker oblivious to the world around him, as he neatly hangs up his street clothes. Being creepier than Kelly cares to admit, he watches Buckley, his eyes lingering over his form longer than what is socially acceptable. He can't help but take this man apart inch by inch with his eyes as he tries to figure out how Buckley is still a floater. He isn't why it matters. Just look at those arms…Stop it. He yells at himself. If Casey walks in that moment, Kelly could imagine the crap he would receive from his best friend.
Shaking himself out of his pondering, mischievous thoughts, he loudly and awkwardly announces himself, "Um…Hey, Kelly Severide, Lieutenant on Squad three." He takes a step forward and holds at his hand. Buckley quite visibly finches and drops the Chicago Fire shirt in his hand. "Shit. Sorry. Don't mean to startle you."
Straightening up, Buckle glances at Kelly, his eyes guarded and unreadable. A painful second goes by as his wary eyes zero in on Kelly's out reached hand like he is assessing a threat, which startles Kelly for a second. However, before he can mull over why Buckley seems so nervous, the cautious look is gone, replaced by a fatigued one. "Evan Buckley," Buckley huffs out, his entire body languages changing, and he tosses his bag into the locker.
Sensing Buckley has no interest in shaking his hand, Kelly lowers it, while trying not to be offended. Not everyone is as opened as he is. Though, according to some, he isn't very welcoming either, but he isn't as frosty as Buckley is being. "How are doing?" he asks, suddenly uncomfortable by his own question.
"Good, I guess." Buckley answers, a strained expression on his face. He pulls his Chicago Fire T-shirt over his head.
Totally, not the average floater, Kelly thinks, his eyes too focused on his chest chest. Buckley could give him a run for his money in the abs department. It was-
"Hey, Buckley!" Herrmann calls, stepping locker room just as Buckley closes the locker.
"Yes," Buckley responds—the coldness suddenly disappearing-, looking pass Kelly and toward Herrmann.
Herrmann shots Kelly a curious look before waving Buckley over. "There're a few things on Engine that I want to go over."
"Sure," Buckley replies, spotting a smile for the first time.
Kelly waves as he turns away. "I'll leave you two to it." He strains his ear for a second to hear Herrmann and Buckley's conversion before stops himself. Their conversion is none of his business, and why does he care?
*O*O
Hours later, Kelly, leaning back in his recliner, reads a 2-month-old firefighter magazine for the third time, as he ignores the rest of the station. By the entire station, he means Ferraris and Capp, who are currently shooting playful insults at the other. Ferraris, sitting across from Kelly, is pointing at spots—some barely blemishes-on the truck that he claims to need more love from Capp. He's about to say something to Ferraris about not being a swore winner when Buckley catches his eyes. He has no idea why he is so drawn to Buckley. Maybe, it's because he's a mystery, and Kelly likes mysteries...Why does that sound dirty? "Behave," he warns softly as he puts down the magazine and gets to his feet.
Buckley, one headphone in and one out, is on the other side of the apparatus, a broom in hand. His lips are moving, but Kelly can't make out what he's singing along to until he's within a few feet. With the biggest smile he has ever seen on the man, Buckley is tapping his feet and shaking his hips. Who is what happy cleaning? And for some reason, Kelly can't look away; his eyes are glued to Buckley's backside. What the hell are you doing, Severide? He asks himself as he forces his eyes up.
He opens his mouth but slams it shut, almost biting his tongue off in his embarrassment, as he edits the words in his head for the second time. He doesn't know why he is tongue tied over a floater. "Y-you don't have to do that. We have rookies for that." Kelly states, smiling. "Watching Galo and Ritter trip over themselves is funny." For the first time in a long time, he feels awkward in his own skin.
Once again, Buckley visibly winces and freezes, which doesn't sit well with Kelly. "It's no problem," he states, holding the broom close to his chest. "Just like to keep busy." He shrugs, and somehow, he shrinks into himself, looking half his size.
There's something in his tone that ellipses Kelly's self-doubts and rubs him the wrong way at the same time. Why is this kid so self-conscious? "I can get that." Kelly has never been a floater, even in his early days. His last name opened doors for him, so he can only guess how awkward it is to be in a new house daily. "Want any help?"
"No-" The alarm rings, calling for Truck 81 and Engine 51. "Well, I got to go." A glimpse of relief passes over his face.
Kelly steps aside and watches the crews of Truck 81 and Engine 51 dash to their trucks and gear up. His eyes are still on Buckley, who jumps into his turnover gears like a seasoned veteran. There is definitely a story there, a story Kelly would be interesting in hearing. Just as Buckley jumps in, Truck 81's blaring horn draws Kelly's attention, and he's met with Casey's calculating eyes. Kelly just smiles and waves, ignoring the embarrassment that bubbles inside him. Unlike most people, Matt Casey can see right through him.
Shortly after Truck 81 and Engine 51 leaves, Squad 3 is called, which distracts Kelly from the lecture he is coming.
*O*O*
By the time Squad 3 pulls back into firehouse, Truck 81 and Engine 51 had returned, and there's energy in the air that hasn't been there before. "What's going on here?" He asks as he shrugs off his turnover jack.
"I almost died!" Herrmann shouts, as he, his hands swinging above his head, goes in some wild tale about how this car paid no attention to the flashing fire trucks and came busting down street. Buckley, not an ounce of hesitation and faster than anyone thought possible, tackles him out of way. "These people nowadays."
"That driver is lucky that Buckley saved you." Mouch replies, waving on his way to couch. "If not, the driver would've had to deal with me." He flexes.
Everyone laughs at that, though Cruz rolls his eyes. "Oh, so scary."
"I don't know I'm scared." Herrmann laughed.
"No, I'm scared of Cindy." Cruz laughs. A cheer of eyes echoes across the apparatus.
Stella shakes her head. "I for one do not want to be on the other end of her glare."
Herrmann points to her. "Bingo, but you got to love her!" The smile on his face is huge, his eyes lighting up whenever he speaks or thinks about Cindy.
It's kind of sickening to see how sweet Herrmann gets over his wife. Granted, Herrmann isn't the only one in this house who gets like this when thinking of a loved one. "Where is Buckley?" Kelly asks not seeing the floater.
Casey, his eyes probing, hangs his jack on 81's door. "Foster and Brett took him to Chicago Med for a once over. He hit his head pretty hard." He winks.
"When he gets back, let me know. I owe that man a drink!" Herrmann cheers, the softness disappearing from his eyes.
"Just one?" Stella teases. "I think you promised him several."
Herrmann pauses. "Did I?" He scratches his chin. "Okay, maybe more than one. Next time I see him, I'm inviting him to Molly's."
"That's the spirit." Mouch cheers.
Kelly watches as Mouch wraps an arm around Herrmann and directs him to kitchen area. While their voice carry, Kelly doesn't pay much attention to what they are talking about. He just watches as Mouch and Herrmann huddle together and laugh. His mind wandering, he doesn't notice Casey until he grabs him by his under arm and pulls him aside. At first, Kelly resists, nailing Casey with hard stare. "What?" Kelly utters.
Casey gives him an unimpressed look until Kelly relents and follows him to his small Lieutenant office/sleeping quarters. They walk in an awkward silence that Kelly isn't earned, but he doesn't question his Captain. Not yet at least. He just wishes he could understand the stiffness in his best friend. Did he do something? It is possible, considering he is him, and his judgement isn't always perfect.
After stepping into the small office and making sure Kelly is in, Casey closes the door behind him, and getting straight to the point, asks. "What is your deal with Buckley?"
"Deal? I don't know what you're talking about." Kelly shoots back, utterly confused. He is simply curious. Is that a crime? It isn't like he is staring… Okay, isn't staring a lot. Have you seen him? Shaking his head, Kelly turns slightly and leans against the wall.
"I have caught you staring at him." Casey let out a sigh as he takes a seat at his desk. "More than once."
"So?"
Casey's lip twitches, visibly uncomfortable with this conversation. "I know your stares."
"You know my stares?" Kelly articulates, disbelief heavy on his face. His brain has issue wrapping its around that. Is that surprising? No, but he isn't sure he likes the idea of being so readable. He opens his mouth to respond, but he quickly closes his mouth, unable up with a reasonable excuse.
"Kelly," Casey speaks, not likely the struggle in Kelly's face.
Kelly, putting more show into than needed, dramatically rolls his eyes. "I'm just curious. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Casey huffs. "Is this about him being a floater? There are a hundred of different reasons for that, and if Buckley wants to tell you, he will." He pauses. "However, that doesn't mean there is anything to tell."
"You aren't curious?"
"It isn't my place to be. As long as Buckley does his job that's all what matters, and he is doing his job." Casey glances out the window as he catches sight of the ambulance. "Best damn floater I have seen in a while." He adds as an affect thought.
Kelly follows Casey's eyes, and as he chews on the side of his lips, Kelly's mind wanders. He knows this is why Casey is concern, but he can't help it. Who is Evan Buckley? Why is he so jumpy? So distant? These questions will probably haunt Kelly for a while. Granted, he isn't even sure why it matters to him, considering Buckley is a floater, and Casey is right: the guy won't be here for long.
"And I can't help you if Buckley calls HR on you." Casey adds, drawing Kelly from his thoughts.
Kelly snorts. "I'm too cute for that." He was about to protest that no one would call HR on him, but considering what happened in the past, those words got stuck in his throat. Though those were false claims, they still haunt him to this day, both his mental state and reputation took a hit. He still got some stares, and his latest in house fling doesn't help. Yet, those were sexual claims, and these are… Okay, Kelly doesn't know what these are, but he just finds himself interested in learning who his Evan Buckley person is. There is nothing sexual or romantic about it.
He just wants to know who Evan Buckley is.
Author note:
I am not sure if I will continue this. This depends on if you peeps like it or not, so let me know.
