Noah softly closed the door to the office and watched his new captain pace around the close confines of the office. “What were you thinking?”
Williams was seething. “This is not a joke. They are treating this like it’s a game.”
Noah checked his instinct to strike back; calm and rationality were needed here. “Read the damn room. This a prototype of joint ventures between our services. Reyes wanted it light to build trust and cooperation. Team building at its finest. We gave them a huge amount of latitude on purpose. CCFD needs PD as allies in this county. We were supposed to develop protocols in a low-stress environment. Why do you think she repeated ‘innovation and creative interpretation of situations’ twelve times?”
This was supposed to be an easy event and aid Williams with settling in.
“You’ve let this be unprofessional the whole time. The musical theater, the meal, the Unbirthday Party, the birthday quiz…” Williams fumed, continuing to pace in the small space.
“Soto poked fun at your expense. Your team went along with it,” Noah pointed out, getting pissed off now. “And why not? You are the new guy. You do have to be hazed some. Carver was and still is getting a hell of a lot more crap than you were.”
Williams scowled. “Rodriguez planned on this all and helped her uncle embarrass me.”
Noah held up a hand. “No, you embarrassed yourself. You saw something on your schedule and made assumptions. You didn’t ask any of your officers for more details beyond your email, did you?”
“No.” The reply was hesitant and sullen.
Noah took a cleansing breath. “Wills, I brought you here because, yes, this shift does need discipline and structure. It doesn’t make them robots and doesn’t mean they’ll never be mischievous. Especially after the Freon incident.” He had read the report and didn’t think it presented anyone on the team in a good light.
Put in his place, Williams straightened. “I’m sorry, sir. My behavior was not professional. If you let me go back out there, I’ll make it up.”
“No.” Noah’s word was final.
Williams bounced back into defensive mode again. “What the hell do you mean? ‘No?’”
“You’re triggered,” Noah stated. “It’s not lost on me that you freaked out during this scenario. An armed robbery? I should have been paying closer attention. I had no idea it would mess you up that badly.”
“I’m not messed up,” Williams denied. “Grumpy is my neutral. You think I feel better today than I did five years ago? Do you think it faded? Every day is the same.”
Noah clenched his jaw. “I’m sorry to hear that. However, I’m the fire chief, and I say you aren’t in the frame of mind to interact with your team right now. You’re grounded.”
“You can’t ground me in my own firehouse. Those are my firefighters. It’s my job to supervise them, Noah.”
Baker’s voice went cold, in full Chief-mode. There was only so much rope he could afford his former friend. “I didn’t give you permission to call me by first name, Captain. We aren’t friends—not anymore. I’m the superior officer, and you will respect me. If you expect your officers to respect you, then you will respect me too.”
“You going to send me home?”
“Not till 1700, which is when you should be going home daily.” Noah passed him a set of papers out of the messenger bag. “I’m going to supervise the rest of this training. You’re going to work on the shift schedule for Battalion 2.”
“You giving me make-work for the battalion?” he asked, scanning the paperwork.
“It’s not make-work. I’ve been doing the paperwork for Battalion 2 on top of my actual job. This is exactly where your strengths lie—organization and utilization of personnel. Consider this a promotion. I’ll cover your captain spot tonight.”
Williams returned his attention to the papers, unwilling to meet his boss’s eyes.
It was time to address the elephant in the room. “I know starting over here has brought up some painful memories. You aren’t the only one with pain. Clarke tried to save a teenager after watching her parent’s fall to their deaths in August. Think about it. Get to know your team.” Baker shifted back into his command voice. “And don’t ever let me receive a report where you knowingly expose your team to toxic gas to prove a point again.”
Noah left the office, slumped under the weight of his own regrets and Jacen’s suffering.
Five years ago, Alexandria Williams had been shot and killed during a bank robbery. The protocols they were working on today could have saved her life. But unless a time machine was invented, they would never know if the presence of ballistic armor would have changed Battalion Chief Noah Baker’s refusal to allow Cleveland FD to enter the unsecured hot zone without ballistic protection.
Noah deliberately slowed his respirations. He could not allow Williams’s problems to become his own.
“Ready for the next scenario?” he asked the combined teams who were finishing slices of cake.
“Where is Captain Williams?” Rodriguez glanced at the closed door.
“He’s lending a hand with Battalion 2 paperwork. With McClunis out, I got behind. I need to run these drills anyway because I’ll be supervising the next sets of training sessions.” He took out another legal pad. “Note to self, keep hallways wide enough. Knocking down walls induces spontaneous Monty Python quotes.”
“Sorry, sir,” Kormos offered. “I may have been too relaxed.”
Baker was fairly certain that Kormos and Rodriguez had been the ringleaders, but he wouldn’t put it past the rest of the Firehouse 15 crew to extract some blood from Williams. Kormos was no friend of Williams once he purposely allowed Rodriguez to wander through Freon to learn a lesson on protocol. However, Noah would not undermine his officer further in front of his new team.
“It’s a freebie today, but now I’m in charge of picking the scenarios.” Noah took the cards from Kormos. He pointed to Jones, his burliest firefighter. “You’re a victim this time. You are a little old lady with a bad hip. We transport you out into the warm zone. Cracks about his weight are fine, but not about his sexual orientation. But see how professional you can make it sound.”
That was the key—give them enough leash to keep them happily participating without having them fight their way out of a chokehold.
The rest of the afternoon went well.
With Williams gone, the antics had decreased somewhat. Interestingly, much of it had been coming from Rodriguez’s boyfriend, Elias Kormos. He was simply far more subtle about it than the Soto-Rodriguez gene pool. Well, perhaps less subtle since one of the scenarios featured a Freon leak with an active shooter. Baker was happy the personal problems between Clarke and Rodriguez seemed to be dissipating.
Rodriguez certainly did have her champions.
The person who didn’t need a champion was Hudgens. She did the most facilitating of peace between the two services via snappy comebacks softened by wry grins. An occasional wink or snicker from her always broke the strain. The men of the police force took notice. A few tried their luck, and she turned them down in a firm yet friendly way, leaving their egos intact.
Noah could feel their pain. He’d been playing with fire to return her note to her. The damn thing had been living in his jacket for weeks, a freaking Telltale Heart. Giving it back was supposed to be his exorcism and his tacit approval of their relaxed atmosphere.
After Williams crept out, Noah decided to spend the night at the firehouse. He wasn’t on call this weekend, and Friday nights typically picked up due to ‘Cars plus Bars.’ Because he heard Williams did the same, he ate his leftover Thai downstairs, away from the others. It wasn’t wrong to minimize his contact with Hudgens, either. Her team couldn’t see him salivating over her.
Then he heard the strains of Pour Some Sugar on Me and was drawn down the hallway to the windows of the gym. “What are they doing?”
Jones stood behind him, legal pad in hand. “They’re working out.”
Technically, the women in their FD issued tank tops were lifting weights and… gyrating. They completely abandoned the weights the second the light strains of Madonna’s Vogue sounded through the speakers. Their bodies wove back and forth in a synchronized dance rhythm.
“Oh, it’s a Vogue moment!” Jefferson piped up, hurrying to watch.
“They didn’t do this when I was here,” he muttered. He couldn’t rip his eyes away from Hudgens. She was twirling freely, unencumbered by worry, and it showed; her boundless energy shone through her skin.
Noah had his attention split between enjoying the show and imagining her moving the same way beneath him.
“They don’t always do it,” Jones said. “They weren’t going to do it around you—thought it looked too . . .”
“Fun? Sexual?” Jefferson suggested. “Sorry, Chief. Until today, it didn’t seem like you were interested in seeing us screw around. Or see the sexy dances they use to shut down bars.”
“Can we not use the word ‘sexy’?” Jones objected. “Those girls are like my sisters. My family. They are not sex objects.”
“That’s the exact thing I like to hear,” Noah agreed. Even if he couldn’t make himself say he thought of Erin Hudgens in the sisterly way.
“They are objectively attractive. If one of them showed up here at my house naked and drunk…” Jones stopped, and it appeared Jefferson nudged Jones with his foot. “No… I would never ever take advantage, even if they were begging for it. It is a terrible decision to date inside the firehouse… or in the department at all.”
“Gentlemen,” Noah dragged himself away from watching them dance before he lost his self-control, “if this is the same type of discussion you’d have about your male teammates, it’s fine. I don’t expect choir boys. I expect respect.”
“Good, because I don’t want you to think I have plans to hit that, but hot is hot—boy, girl, cat,” Jones said. Jefferson kicked Jones in the shin this time, causing him to drop the notebook.
“Cat?” Noah didn’t quite follow his meaning.
“I’m an artist and impartial on the physical merits of a subject.” He indicated his notepad on the floor. The first sketch was his parents pointing their fingers at Jones. “Sorry about my family’s visit.”
“It’s not a big deal. Firehouses are families, including the weird parts.” Noah picked it up and flipped one page. Now there was a solid depiction of Captain Williams… complete with horns and fangs.
And the phone number of a ‘Charlie.’
“Your work?” Noah asked. “It’s excellent.”
Jefferson cracked up. “She gave all three of them her number. We donated the money instead.”
“He means the sketch,” Jones said. “I can explain—”
“It’s hilarious.” Noah lifted the first page away to admire Williams’s angry, frothing, doom-face. “You did the team panorama in the office, too?”
“It was Captain Soto’s retirement gift. He decided to leave it here.”
“You did a great job, capturing the essence of everyone,” Noah complimented.
“Thanks, Chief.” Jones suddenly seemed uncomfortable speaking to Baker about aspects of his life not involving a hose and chanced putting his foot in his mouth again.
“May I?” Noah motioned to the notebook before turning more pages.
“All yours, sir. I have a million sketches.” Jones’s voice rose a few pitches, and he moved toward the stairs. “Oh, it’s almost ten. Time for bed, right, Theo?”
“Don’t you need the number?” Noah asked.
“Memorized it.” Jones evacuated the area.
It took a few more pages to see why he ran.
Page five was Noah himself. Jones had drawn him larger than life, wearing a haughty expression and crushing Captain Williams underfoot. The pictures following included Kormos and Rodriguez fighting a killer rabbit, Clarke and Knight playing tug of war, Jefferson in front of a blackboard with Carver in a dunce hat, and Hudgens in a Star Trek costume, balancing on a basketball.
Even in this quick scribble, she radiated her own brand of levity.
Under the guise of studying the sketches, he watched the women dance for a few more seconds since they seemed oblivious to their audience.
His heart turned over with a thump. Even being near her was difficult. There was something about her, a happiness, a joy, a lightness that she brought with her. There was nothing he wanted to do more than bridge the chasm between them. He’d been fighting it for months, and where had it gotten him?
Nowhere.
Miserable every time he saw her.
Unhappy when he tried to avoid her.
Jacen lived in misery. The man who had been a happy person in the prime of life now viewed the world as a long, endlessly bleak plain. No more sunshine; every day was the same overcast gray, a shadow of what he’d lost.
Was that Noah’s future? To pass up on these rare chances for happiness? Would he spend the rest of his life wondering what he’d missed? Would he be retiring in twenty years with a great career but an empty bed and house? Would he see this exquisite woman one day on someone else’s arm and curse himself for never trying?
She turned down the police officers today, but she wouldn’t do that forever. The day would come when she said ‘yes’ to another man. Some guy who was willing to take the risk on a woman as sparkling and beautiful as she.
He looked back at the picture he’d stopped on. Why was he holding a goofy picture when he could be holding her instead? How many times could he slam the door in her face before she moved on?
Perhaps it was time to reconsider his priorities. Or abandon them completely.