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Christopher hasn’t stopped talking about the school field trip to the California Science Center since he first brought home the flyer and attached permission slip from school. The school had required a minimum number of chaperones, to which Carla had volunteered to tag along. She said it’d look good for Eddie to contribute some parent volunteer time. And that he couldn’t solely rely on Buck for that.
Incidentally, that was when Eddie found out that Buck had apparently been bringing in birthday treats for each kid in Chris’s class and thus ensuring that Eddie actually seemed like one of the better parental units by proxy.
Buck however had the day off, and first offered to trade with Eddie so he could go with Christopher. It was ridiculously obvious to both Eddie and Christopher that Buck was dying to go though. Chris even went so far as to quietly tell his dad that he didn’t think Buck got to go on field trips when he was a kid. And fuck if those kind of observations didn’t break Eddie’s heart. When even his kid could see that there were normal little bits of life that Buck never got.
Eddie didn’t mention the way his heart twisted all warm and fuzzy at the way everyone at the school referred to Buck as his other half. He wasn’t, partly because Eddie really wasn’t sure how Buck felt, but mostly because Eddie was too much of a chicken shit to ask. The answer could go really well. Or really terribly. And Eddie just wasn’t willing to risk all the good that he and Christopher had with Buck, just for the chance of something more. Not with his track record in the relationship department.
There’s just too many questions that need answered for Eddie to make that kind of move in their relationship.
The morning of the field trip had arrived and Christopher was absolutely ecstatic. He’d barely gone to sleep the night before, only agreeing when Buck promised to come over beforehand and make amoeba pancakes. He dropped both of them off at the school, not sure who was more excited about it.
By the time the shift had started, Eddie had received multiple pictures and videos from both Buck and his son, sharing all the excitement. They have a quick call for an elderly lady who’d fallen, likely broken her hip, that they sent off to the hospital. Eddie checks his phone at the end to see if anything had come through that he’d missed, but no new notifications appeared. They’d probably stopped for lunch or just been too into an exhibit to remember to send him a picture.
On the way back to the station, Bobby leans forward, listening to someone from dispatch talking to him. “We’re on our way back from a call, station 87 is probably closer.”
He’s quiet for a minute, then confirms. “Got it. We’re on our way.” He follows by updating the team. “Dispatch is sending us out to a hostage situation.”
“Hostage situation?” questions Hen. “Shouldn’t that be a police matter?”
“Actually it’s the FBI,” corrects Eddie.
“Yes to both of you. We’re going because there are multiple injuries and concerns about more. They want immediate medical response available and working in unison with the FBI and police teams.”
“Multiple? One of the federal buildings or state government?” asks Eddie.
Bobby shakes his head grimly. “The California Science Center.”
And in a moment, Eddie feels his entire body go rigid and his heart go into overtime.
“Eddie? Eddie, what’s wrong?” asks Chim, the closest to him.
He feels like he’s going to fall apart at any moment. This can’t be happening again. His phone starts ringing in his hand, but he can’t register it at all. He’s been complacent. It’s been nearly a year since the tsunami and somewhere, somehow, his mind tricked him into believing he could have nice things. Eddie vaguely registers Hen pulling the phone out of his hand and answering it. She listens for a second, says “hang on, he’s right here,” and forces Eddie to take the phone.
“Dad,” comes Christopher’s soft voice. “Dad, are you there?”
“Christopher,” he says hoarsely. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m at the ice cream place with Carla.”
Eddie’s so confused. “With Carla?”
“We were in the room with the solar system and then more adults came in and Buck made us leave. He said we had to go fast. Daddy, is Buck okay?”
“Is...is, Christopher, I don’t know what’s going on.”
There’s a noise on the other end, then Carla’s voice comes through. “Eddie?”
“Carla?”
“Yes, it’s me. Look, I’m not sure what’s going on other than I can see the Science Center surrounded by police and I’m assuming federal agents based on the black SUVs. All I know is that about 15 minutes ago, Christopher called me and said he was at the ice cream store by the science museum and that Buck told him to wait for me to get there and not leave.” She sighs. “I’m just glad I was having lunch with my niece on campus.”
“Where’s Buck?” asks Eddie, his voice cracking.
“I don’t know, honey. The best I can tell based on Chris’s answers is that he went back inside to help more kids get away from whatever’s going on.” Carla pauses as the noise of sirens gets louder. The truck is swinging into the makeshift triage center and Eddie knows he has to go. Carla continues briefly. “Look, I’m going to take Christopher back to your place and I’ll stay with him until you get home. And Eddie, you make sure both of you come home.”
Eddie nods, blissfully unaware that Carla can’t actually see him, and hangs up. He follows the rest out of the truck somewhat in a haze and desperately trying to focus. Hen stays at his elbow as Bobby leads them through the crowd of police.
“What’s the situation?” asks Bobby when they reach the clear command area.
Athena is there with several other officers and a couple of guys in FBI jackets. “Here’s what we know. At approximately 1:05 pm, a group of men entered the California Science Center. We believe others were already in the building, based on how quickly they’d taken out security, shut down communication, and isolated those in the building. At least fourteen people are presumed dead at this time and multiple injured in the triage units. Unfortunately, we don’t know how many hostages they actually have, though we’re working on narrowing that down based on the list of planned field trips. This being a school day is a small mercy; it should be easier to get a count. Quite a few kids made it out.”
Bobby looks grim. “I’m surprised there aren’t more dead with the inevitable stampede to escape.”
“Everyone who tried to run out the front door was shot,” answers Athena. “The triage is full of the ones who made it outside with their injuries.”
“Then how?”
“Someone inside was forcing people out the emergency exits.”
“Buck,” breathes Eddie.
Athena whirls on him. “Buck is in there?!”
“He was on Christopher’s field trip.”
“Oh god,” says Athena, clearly horrified.
Eddie hurries to reassure her, at least insofar as he can manage himself. “No, no, Christopher is okay. He called while we were on our way over, said Buck made him run. Carla’s with him now.” He pauses. “But if you didn’t know that, that means Buck is still in there.”
“If he’s not dead already,” observes one of the FBI agents, who then takes a step back, putting up his hands in apology as the entirety of the 118 looks ready to deck him.
Bobby rolls into action as Captain. “Okay, Hen and Chimney, I know you’re worried, but there are people in need of medical care. Get to that triage tent and see how you can help.”
“Bobby, I…” starts Eddie, unsure what to say.
“You’re staying right here, out of the way,” orders Bobby. “I’m not even going to pretend you’d be any use in that tent and I know you won’t leave. But you do not get in the way.”
Eddie nods. “I just need to know if Buck is…”
There’s a loud crackle on the radio in the middle of one of the tables. “Somebody get me the agent in charge,” says Buck’s voice over the speaker.
Eddie ignores everything he just promised Cap and lunges for the microphone. “Buck?!”
“Eddie.” Buck says it more than asks it. “Christopher called you, right?”
“What do you mean, Christopher called you right? Buck, where are you? And yes, yes, he’s fine.”
“I’m in a back office, probably one of the curators for the limited time exhibits,” answers Buck. His voice is sharper than Eddie’s ever heard. “Look, Eddie, I know you’re worried right now, but we really don’t have the time. Pass me to the agent in charge.”
“Sir, I don’t know who you think you are, but this is no time to divulge your Die Hard fantasies,” says one agent. “Now, I appreciate whatever you did to help get people out, but I need you to lay low, while we figure out what these people want.”
There’s the ugly sound of bone and cartilage breaking as the agents motion for what appears to be a senior official making their way through the various personnel to get to the command center. “I’m working on that,” snaps Buck. “Now get me the damn senior agent.”
“This is Agent O’Malley,” replies the agent, taking command. “And I must repeat sir, I don’t know how you got on this line, but you need to let us do our job. Now is not the time to play hero.”
Buck gives a highly exasperated sigh. There’s a tortured noise that comes over the line, swiftly cut off by what sounds like the breaking of a femur bone. “That's adorable. Look, Agent O’Malley, run my name up the chain. In the meantime, I’m going to get you some answers. You’ve got six minutes to get back to me or I start doing this my way.”
“I may need more time than that,” cautions O’Malley, while motioning at another agent. “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?” he hisses off mic.
Eddie would snarl at him for saying such a thing, but honestly he has no idea what’s going on with Buck.
“Trust me,” answers Buck. “You won’t need six minutes. But I do.”
“His name’s Evan Buckley,” interjects Bobby, “and you don’t need to do this, Buck. You saved a lot of kids today.”
“Kind of the problem, Cap,” says Buck, sounding entirely too nonchalant for the situation. “There’s a lot of kids left. Oh, and O’Malley? It’s Lieutenant Evan Buckley Spencer.”
The radio goes silent and O’Malley gets on the phone, talking quickly on the other end.
Eddie exchanges looks with Bobby and Athena, who look as confused as he is.
“Did you know Buckley wasn’t his last name?” asks Athena.
“His paperwork all says Evan Buckley,” answers Bobby.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches O’Malley pulling himself straight up, responses quick and precise to the phone. “Yes, ma’am. Of course. Anything he needs.”
O’Malley turns back to the rest of them. “I don’t know who the hell your guy is, but that’s the fastest response I’ve ever gotten from Washington.”
“Washington?” mouths Athena.
O’Malley is back on the radio. “Spencer? You’re officially the senior point person on this now. You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”
There’s no answer.
“Spencer? Lieutenant Spencer?”
The radio gravels and the sound of spitting blood comes over the line. “I said I needed six minutes, O’Malley,” says Buck. He laughs. “Gimme a sec. Oh, and call me Buck.”
Eddie feels somewhat hysterical, but he feels like he can perfectly picture Buck in that moment, a mouthful of blood, grinning like some crazed warrior.
Buck’s back on the radio a second later. A muffled groan sounds before Buck can say anything. He growls. “Man, shut the hell up,” before the distinct sound of a boot to the face can be heard. “Alright here’s the deal. On the positive side, this is a fairly new group. Fucking idealists out of South America and they want political prisoners released. They aren’t affiliated with any major governments or rebellions and therefore don’t have much backing. So far, they’ve corralled all their hostages into the aviation exhibit. I can work with that.” He spits again. “Of course, the bad side is…”
Eddie and O’Malley answer at the same time. “They’re idealists.”
“Why is that worse?” whispers Bobby.
Eddie leans over to answer while still keeping one ear tuned to the conversation. “Idealists are harder to negotiate with. Money and power are clear motivators and those groups know that there’s give and take. But idealists want to get their message out there. And dead bodies do that just as well as live ones. It puts hostages in more danger.”
“I don’t know how fast I can get any prisoners released,” says O’Malley.
“Homeland security should be on their way to you,” replies Buck. “Frankly, it’s kind of pathetic that they haven’t been there already. I just need three. Three is enough to start a conversation. Find me those and the USC marching band.”
O’Malley frowns. “The USC…”
“Marching band. I need one hell of a distraction and it has to make sense from the area. Also,” continues Buck, “get men down into the access tunnels between the Center and the Senator’s office. I’m not risking anyone getting shot running across open space.”
“Tunnels…?”
Buck cuts him off. “Look, O’Malley, I get it, this is a situation that’s a lot worse than anything you’ve dealt with before. And I’m not trying to imply you aren’t competent, because you wouldn’t have your job if you weren’t. But I really need you to stop repeating things and move. We’re working on borrowed time.”
“Yes, sir.” O’Malley puts the microphone down and immediately starts directing his team.
“Eddie?” Buck’s voice comes back through and Eddie leaps at the radio.
“Buck?”
“Look, Eddie, I don’t have a lot of time. Well, more accurately the innocent people in here don’t have a lot of time.”
Bobby interrupts. “Buck, what’s going on?”
“Uh, hey Captain,” says Buck, in that nervous sing-song tone he gets when he’s in trouble. “Kinda forgot you were there too. Um, you remember when we had that conversation about the Navy SEALS?”
“You said you turned them down.”
“Well, yes, I did. It’s just, technically I turned down a career with the SEALS after spending five years with them.”
“Buck…”
“Anyway, this kind of applies to all of you,” says Buck, his voice calm and as serious as Eddie’s ever heard it. “Who I have to be today is not who I am. I need you to remember that.”
“Okay Buck,” agrees Bobby.
Eddie swallows back what he really wants to say. Be safe, run away, why do you have to be such a goddamn hero. “You couldn’t just have an easy day with my kid, could you, Buckley?”
He can practically see the sheepish grin on Buck’s face and the casual shrug he’s probably giving. “Only easy day was yesterday, Diaz.”
It’s the last he hears for a while. Eddie’s mildly calmer now. He’s stressed and worried, but whoever this Buck is, he’s dangerous and more than capable. So Eddie sits and he waits and he listens as O’Malley lines up what Buck needs. They don’t seem to be kidding about Buck’s reputation with the SEALS and the pieces are falling into place. Homeland Security has arrived as well, they’re a tent over, and have managed to make a conversation start happening with the leader of the terrorist group.
Just over an hour later, Buck’s voice comes in low over the radio. “O’Malley?”
“Sir?”
“We’re going to need to coordinate this just right, but I’m in position to end this thing.”
“What’s the plan?”
Buck outlines it quickly and efficiently. Homeland Security’s lead agent is to get on the phone with the terrorist leader. As soon as he confirms that they will be freeing at least three prisoners in return for a good faith release of the children, the marching band is to start playing. Loudly. According to Buck, they need to drown out the conversation for two minutes. He seems certain that’s about all the patience they’ll get. He’ll use the distraction to take out the men in the room with the hostages. All exits have already been secured, no new terrorists are getting in. When asked if he’s sure, Buck gives an ugly little laugh and assures O’Malley that the playing field was never even, but he did tilt the odds more in his favor.
As soon as the marching band is shut off, the joint Homeland and FBI team are to breach the Center, with more waiting to get the hostages out through the tunnels.
It’s a damn good plan, thinks Eddie.
Usually, that’s what makes it fall apart. It always seems like the better the plan, the worse the execution.
But Buck’s plan goes seamlessly.
Within twenty minutes, the confirmation that the hostages are clear comes from one assault team and the other has the remaining terrorists contained.
“We’re all clear, Lieutenant,” says O’Malley on the radio.
“Yeah, I got that,” replies Buck, cheeky as ever and definitely not on the radio.
Eddie whirls.
Buck stands behind them. His shirt is ripped and he’s got blood literally dripping off him, though Eddie’s medic eye tells him hardly any of it actually came from Buck. He looks filthy and Eddie’s never been more attracted to him. He doesn’t even know where to begin to express his relief and his fear and just how much he loves this absolute idiot in front of him. “Buck…” Eddie whispers. “I...I…” He has so many things to say and so many questions.
Buck grins that ridiculously charming grin that made Eddie’s heart first skip a beat. He takes two steps forward, grabs Eddie’s turnout coat in his hands, and yanks Eddie up against him in one smooth motion. “Shoulda known an Army man wouldn’t know how to get his head out of his ass,” he says.
And then his lips meet Eddie’s and it’s hot and intense and definitely inappropriate and maybe Eddie doesn’t have that many questions after all.