She needed something to do with her spare time. The walls of her apartment seemed to close further in on her every night of the week and there was only so much jogging around her neighborhood that she could take. She sighed inwardly as she glanced down at the ring on her finger, it had been over three years since her fiancé died yet she couldn't muster the strength to take the ring off and put it away. It was her safety blanket, since for the most part the platinum and diamond creation kept most men from approaching her and those that ignored it found themselves on the receiving end of a very cold shoulder.
The sound of sirens interrupted her thoughts and she moved to the window, pushing the thin gauze curtain out of the way just in time to see the fire trucks pull out of the station house down the block and head off into the night. She knew that house lost several members on the same day that she had lost her fiancé, she remembered jogging past the makeshift memorial just a few days after moving in, later that week she had added her own flowers to it as well and prayed for the men that were lost doing their job.
Moving back from the window she headed back into the kitchen with a determined gait, she had an idea that might just be the answer to her earlier question. Forty-five minutes later she exited her apartment dressed to go jogging but held two large foiled covered Pyrex pans in her arms. It didn't take long before she found herself in front of the still empty firehouse.
"This is has got to be the most insane idea you've ever had."
Glancing up and down the empty street, she stepped into the brick building her eyes going to the back wall immediately searching for the door that would hopefully lead her to their kitchen. She knew her window of time could be closing so she crossed the empty floor space quickly and pushed opened the only door to be found which lead her to a hallway, she went right and found their kitchen. She put the pans on their table and quickly pulled the note out of her pocket that she had written. She adjusted the fold so that it was sitting perfectly on top of one of her foil-covered creations. The note was short and simple, providing only the heating instructions for the food, a request to leave the pans on the counter and that they would be picked up later in the week and absolutely no mention of her identity.
She left the way she came but paused momentarily to glance at the names gracing the rows of lockers. Gavin, Rivera, Shea, Garrity, and Probie, she committed them to her memory before sprinting out the door to start her evening run. She reached the far corner of the block just as the trucks came barreling down the side street heading back to the stationhouse.