Sarah Wilson sat at the bar with her friends, nursing her drink as they engaged in their usual banter. The dimly lit room was filled with the chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the low hum of laughter. It was just another Friday night at their favorite hangout.

Her friend, Jessica, leaned over, her voice slightly slurred from the cocktails they'd been indulging in. "What's on your mind tonight?"

Sarah smirked, glancing at her friends who were now deeply engrossed in a debate about the latest dating app trends. She took a deep breath before blurting out, "Look, I'm not saying that we're all going to die alone. I'm saying that statistically, we'd be better off turning to lesbianism."

Jessica nearly choked on her drink, and the rest of their friends erupted into a round of howls and laughter. Sarah held up a hand, her expression dead serious. "No, really. Listen to me." She ignored the balled-up napkin that bounced off her forehead, courtesy of Jessica. "That was totally uncalled for."

Caroline made a face at her. "Sit down, shut up, and drink your fruity girly drink. She lounged back in her chair, her long, slim body shown off to the best effect by a short skirt and a tall pair of boots. Her hair was short and wavy, bright pink this week.

"You're drinking a damn Pearl Harbor, don't you insult my margarita."

Amidst the banter and good-natured ribbing, a voice chimed in, attempting to mediate the friendly dispute. "Ladies, ladies. Let's all just agree that you both have horrid taste in drinks." Emma's laughter bubbled forth as she playfully tilted her bottle of hard cider in the direction of Sarah and Caroline.

Emma was a contrast to the vivacious Caroline and the witty Sarah. She exuded an aura of sweetness and gentleness, her petite frame swathed in a pink camisole top that showcased her impressive cleavage. Her brown hair cascaded in soft waves around her face, adding to her overall charm.

"And bars," Margaret interjected with a nonchalant tone, her attention only briefly diverted from her phone. Chewing absently on a swizzle stick, her black hair framed her smartly made-up face in a chic bob. With a flick of a perfectly manicured nail, she interacted with the screen before reclining back, the glimmers of jewelry adorning her throat and ears adding a touch of elegance to her impeccably stylish yet simple suit.

Sarah cast a contemplative gaze around the table, her expression carrying a hint of seriousness. "I'm just saying, when was the last time any of us found a date that was actually worth mentioning? We live in Los Angeles, arguably the best city in the world. So why are we all sitting here, on a Saturday night, hanging out with our girlfriends?" Her question hung in the air, a provocative challenge to the status quo of their social lives.

Caroline chimed in with a mischievous grin. "Because we're bored and stupid?"

Sarah chuckled. "Thanks for that, Caro."

Margaret, always the voice of reason, added her own perspective, her ruby-red lips curving slightly. "Because it was better than the other suggestion of sitting in your apartment watching Wolverine for the hundredth time."

Sarah shrugged. "I have other movies."

Margaret arched an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "And yet, we continue to watch Hugh Jackman run naked through fields."

Jessica, raised her hand, her comment light-hearted. "I, for one, have no problem with this."

Sarah responded with a dignified nod. "Thank you. And it would probably be better than spending money on watered-down drinks surrounded by creepy guys without a single brain cell to their names."

"I like drinking," Caroline declared with a sly grin. "It makes you all tolerable."

"Fuck off, bitch." Sarah collapsed back into her seat with a groan. "I want a date."

"Honey, really," Jessica said, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You have the worst taste in men. The worst. I'm not joking. Your choices are..." Her voice trailed off for a moment as she searched for a more diplomatic phrase. "Well, let's just say they're... intriguing. Not always in a good way, but they certainly are intriguing."

"They're dreadful," Margaret declared, punctuating her words by skewering a cherry from her drink on a swizzle stick and popping it into her mouth. "Mouth breathers, honestly. Sarah, you have a knack for discovering the most peculiar men."

"Shut up."

"They're right though," Caroline chimed in, leaning forward with an earnest expression. "Look, promise me that the next time a perfectly normal guy asks you out, you'll say yes."

"I do!"

"Crazy environmentalists don't count!" Caroline added, prompting another burst of laughter from the group.

As the laughter subsided, the conversation circled back to Sarah's eccentric ex, sparking more amusement.

"I forgot about him! What was his name again? Dart or...?" someone mused.

"Arrow," Sarah groaned, covering her face in mock embarrassment. "Look..."

Margaret chimed in with her own amusing anecdote. "At least he wasn't as bad as the barista who dabbled in gay porn on the side." She shuddered "It wasn't even good gay porn."

Sarah couldn't resist a retort. "How the hell would you even know what good gay porn is?"

"I don't," Margaret admitted with a grin. "But I sure as shit know bad gay porn when I see it."

"Hey, wait. I never saw the porn," Emma interjected, accidentally sloshing her drink over the table. "How come I never saw the porn?"

"Because it was just that bad," Caroline deadpanned.

"You saw it too?" Emma's voice rose to a squeak. "That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair."

Sarah tried to defend her ex, though it was met with a spectrum of expressions from her friends—pity, disdain, and concern.

"He wasn't that bad," she insisted.

The room fell into a moment of silence before Jessica delivered her unfiltered verdict. "You have the worst taste in men of any woman I've ever met. And that includes me."

Sarah sighed, exasperated, and downed her drink. "Fine, whatever. The next one will be normal."

Caroline playfully chimed in, fueling the ongoing banter. "A hundred bucks says that the next one is the worst yet."

"Hey!" Sarah protested.

"I'll take that bet," Margaret nodded, grinning.

Sarah stood up with mock indignation. "I hate you all. I'm going to watch movies involving shirtless men. Who's with me?" She raised her hand, and every hand around the table followed suit, each displaying varying degrees of enthusiasm.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow over the park where families and friends gathered to enjoy a leisurely afternoon. Eddie Diaz and Evan "Buck" Buckley, inseparable best friends from Station 118, had decided to bring Christopher to the park for some outdoor fun. Christopher, who had cerebral palsy, was eager to spend time with his dad and his "Uncle Buck," as he affectionately called him.

As they strolled through the park, Christopher confidently navigated the terrain with his crutches, displaying remarkable determination despite his condition. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he spotted the playground in the distance.

"Come on, guys, I wanna go on the swings!" Christopher exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Eddie smiled down at his son. "Alright, buddy, we're heading there now."

As they made their way toward the swings, Christopher's crutches created a rhythmic beat against the path. Buck couldn't help but admire the young boy's spirit and determination.

As they reached the swings, Christopher carefully settled into one, his face lighting up with sheer joy as Eddie began pushing him gently. Nearby, parents and children laughed and played, creating a symphony of happiness.

Buck leaned against a nearby tree, taking in the scene with a contented smile. It was moments like these that made the challenges of their job at Station 118 worthwhile.

Just then, his eyes caught sight of a woman sitting on a nearby bench, engrossed in a book. Her features were softened by the golden afternoon light, and despite the sunglasses she wore, he could see a faint hint of fatigue in her expression.

Eddie noticed where Buck's gaze had landed. "Hey, Chris, isn't that your teacher, Ms. Wilson?"

Chris's curiosity was piqued as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is!"

With Christopher happily swinging and Eddie keeping a watchful eye, Buck decided to seize the opportunity. He walked over to Sarah and, with his characteristic charm, greeted her. "Hey there, Ms. Wilson, enjoying the sunshine?"

Sarah looked up from her book, her sunglasses perched atop her head. Her eyes, though slightly tired from the previous night, sparkled with intrigue as she met Buck's gaze for the first time. "Oh, it's you, Christopher's uncle, right? Evan, was it?"

Buck grinned, appreciating the directness of her greeting. "Yep, that's me. But you can call me Buck."

Their eyes locked for a moment, and a playful, flirtatious energy sparked between them, unnoticed by Christopher, who was fully engrossed in his swinging.

"Nice to see you again, Buck," Sarah replied, her smile genuine.

"Likewise, Sarah," Buck responded with a charming smile. "I've heard a lot about you from Eddie and Christopher."

Sarah chuckled, closing her book and setting it aside. "Oh, I hope it's all been good things."

"Eddie can't stop praising you," Buck assured her, his tone sincere. "And Christopher, well, he adores you. You've made quite an impression."

Sarah's expression softened, and a warm pride gleamed in her eyes. "Christopher is an incredible kid. I'm lucky to have him in my class."

Buck nodded in agreement. Taking a step closer to Sarah, Buck's flirtatious spirit resurfaced. "So, Sarah, I was wondering if you'd be up for a coffee sometime. You know, when you're not busy molding the minds of the future and all that."

Sarah's lips curled into a playful smile. "Coffee sounds nice, Buck."

Buck grinned. "How about this weekend?"

Sarah checked her schedule on her phone, her playful demeanor now mixed with genuine interest. "Saturday afternoon could work. There's a cozy little cafe near the park that I like."

"Sounds perfect," Buck replied, feeling a surge of excitement. "Saturday it is, then. I'll pick you up at, say, 2 PM?"

Sarah nodded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "2 PM it is."

"So, I met a guy," Sarah said, and no one cared.

Caroline leaned forward, her finger emphatically pointing at the menu. "No, I'm telling you, a real Singapore Sling has pineapple juice, grenadine, and a dash of bitters. It's practically a national treasure!"

The waiter, clearly unimpressed by Caroline's cocktail expertise, gave her a polite but dubious nod. "I'll check with the bartender, ma'am."

Margaret, on the other hand, was engrossed in a different kind of challenge. Her fingers moved deftly on her phone screen as she aimed a virtual bird at a stack of virtual pigs. A triumphant grin crept onto her face as she declared, "Yes! Take that, you swine!"

Jessica, sitting across from Caroline, couldn't help but be amused by her friends' antics. She perused the menu, trying to decide between the various enticing options.

Emma, always the social butterfly, had turned her attention to the table of college boys nearby. With an air of confidence, she engaged them in conversation, the ten-year age difference be damned. Her boobs were winning everything, and it was a well-deserved victory.

Sarah leaned over the table, a mischievous glint in her eye, and playfully planted a small cocktail flag in the valley of Emma's cleavage. "I claim these boobs in the name of Washington," she declared, a mock sense of grandeur in her tone. Emma responded with a playful tongue poke.

Margaret, still engrossed in her phone, joined in the banter. "They are quite mountainous, aren't they?" she chimed in, grinning.

Jessica, finally making a decision about her meal, couldn't resist adding her two cents. "Enormous tracts of land," she agreed with a wink.

Emma, unfazed by the attention, plucked the little flag free and examined it. "Did you get this out of your drink?" she asked Sarah, her amusement evident.

Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically. "No, I just carry a bunch of mini flags in my bag. Of course, it was in my drink. I don't know why, maybe they were out of little umbrellas?" She punctuated her statement with a hand slam on the table. "I. Met. A. Man."

Caroline's response was nonchalant as she poked Sarah's side with a teasing grin. "Congrats, I guess. The city is full of them," she remarked, her tone suggesting that encounters with interesting men were hardly a rare occurrence in Los Angeles.

"Yes, but, I have a date with this one."

"It's going to end poorly," Margaret said, as more pigs died on her phone.

"No, it won't. Why are you all so mean?"

"Less mean and more... pragmatic." Margaret explained

"He's nice, he's sexy, he has a job. He's funny." Sarah said, with a grin

The others exchanged looks, and she groaned "Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad."

"Look," Caroline said, leaning over the table. "The guys you date are like, well, like D&D characters."

"Nerd."

"True. Anyway, there's a balance. For each good attribute, they have a corresponding bad one. When you seem to find a guy who could actually pass as a grown-up, that is terrifying. Because it means that he's probably an ax murderer."

"Or married."

"Or gay," Emma said, cheerful.

"He's not gay. Or married. Or an ax murderer. He's a firefighter," They exchanged another look, and Sarah gritted her teeth. "What."

"Married gay ax murderer," Jessica said

"You guys are unbelievably stupid. He's not a married gay ax murderer."

"That's true," Margaret mused. "That's a bit much, even for you. All we're saying is, take it slow, play it safe, and do not get into any cars that hold bladed weaponry or tools." She shrugged

"But..."

"For once in your life, Sarah, can you not end up calling us in hysterics after a date?" Emma asked.

"Never going to happen. Which is why I always keep a cheesecake on hand." Jessica said.

"Why do I bother talking to you people?" Sarah asked

"Because we buy you alcohol. It's the same reason you date."