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In their line of work, everyone is taught to observe. You had to keep an eye and an ear out for every single possibility, to keep not only yourself but everyone around you safe. Being a captain only doubled the importance of being able to observe everything with an objective eye, from their engineer carefully watching the gauges and dials on the engine, to the men on the hoses battling the ferocious flames, to any rescue men who may need to head inside, face to face with the danger in a more personal way that most, to the fire itself as it chewed and roared and blazed.
Over all, being able to observe and make the right calls at the right time was what made a good captain a great captain.
Hank Stanley was no exception. His men could attest to that. He had an eye for things even his ever-watchful paramedics sometimes missed, while they focused on the here and now Hank had to keep his mind and thoughts open to the future, too, what could and might go wrong or right, who went where and why.
Not everyone was able to do this, keep an eye on your crew and everyone else's crews and make split-second decisions because of the drift of the smoke or the lick of an orange tongue curling up a wall. Most firefighters did just that, fought fires. They let their captains do the heavy thinking and went where they were told, did what was instructed of them.
Something Hank noticed during his time with Station 51's A shift was that the best stations, the best crews, his own crew, knew how to anticipate their captain's orders almost before he made them. With clever, quick-thinking men who could work around each other like a well oiled machine, already moving into place with grim determination seconds before Hank said the words.
Never waiting, never hesitating, they knew what to do, what he needed them to do in any given situation, whether it be grabbing a hose or tying a rope, it was as if they read his mind. Observed the thought through his eyes, the second he thought something they were off doing it.
He couldn't be prouder of his station, and in Hank's opinion, they were the best station in LA.
With how observant Hank had to be, he noticed things about his men most would never see. Small quirks and mannerisms that slipped under the radar to a less accustomed eye.
Like how despite Gage and Kelly's bickering, both almost always had a hint of a smile, never taking it seriously, never meaning to harm. They claimed to dislike each other, and Kelly definitely pulled his share of pranks, but they were close like brothers. Most wouldn't see past the arguments and quips and would believe they truly disliked each other.
Most never saw the gleam of awe and reverence in Kelly's eye when he saw Gage work, or the worried way he chewed his mustache whenever Gage was in the thick of things.
Nor did they see the smile fighting to appear on Gage's lips even as he yelled, dripping from Kelly's latest waterbomb, or the way he would back up his friend when things got rough.
Just like most would write Stoker off as quiet and reserved. And yes, the engineer was quiet, but he wasn't reserved, he loved watching the drama unfold like a soap opera, a smile on his lips and his own private musings nearly visible in his eyes.
Or how despite how he appeared, DeSoto could be just as mischievous as his partner, even more so on some occasions. A force to be reckoned with when he had a scheme, just as stubborn as Gage.
Or that Lopez always checked on Kelly first, knew how to talk the man down exactly like DeSoto did for Gage, knew exactly what Kelly was thinking and dutifully helped his friend when needed.
Hank had made many observations about his crew over the years, enough to write an entire book if he really wanted to.
But there was one thing he had noticed as of late that no one else seemed to catch.
It had started on a run about two weeks ago, where DeSoto fell and hurt his leg while clearing the rickety old apartment building that was about to collapse.
And it had been nothing more than a painful bruise on his knee, he hadn't even needed to go to Rampart, really. But Hank's sharp eyes caught the moment DeSoto fell. Or, rather, the moment Gage knew DeSoto had fallen.
Watched the way the young man stiffened as if he was face to face with a sudden wall of flame, before darting back into the building and half-carrying DeSoto who was trying to wave him off. "I'm fine," DeSoto kept repeating but Gage led him outside and to the spot next to the squad.
Hank kept half an eye on them and half an eye on the rest of his men who moved seamlessly to fill the gap DeSoto and Gage left.
"Will ya stop worrying I'm fine," DeSoto told Gage firmly, but not unkindly. The younger of the two paramedics flitted around the senior in an air of professionalism that hid how worried he was. It was only because Hank knew his crew so well he could see it. In the draw of Gage's shoulders and the way his hands never stopped moving.
"Yeah, well, you don't know that, Roy. What if it's broken?" Gage countered, going to grab the bio-phone but being blocked by his partner grabbing it before his hand could wrap around the receiver. "Will ya knock it off and let me check you out?"
DeSoto shook his head. "You're not calling Rampart about a bruise, Junior."
"You don't know-"
DeSoto sighed, and grabbed Gage's hands to keep them from counting his pulse for the fifth time in as many minutes. "I'm fine," he stressed, bending his leg without so much as a wince. "Look, you know I'm okay, come on."
Gage looked like he was going to argue but he abruptly turned towards Hank. Hank was still facing the building, watching them from the corner of his eye as he heard Chet call the all-clear.
DeSoto's voice was lower, this time, but Hank was just close enough to hear, "this isn't about my leg, is it? What's wrong?"
"I don't wanna talk about it," Gage muttered, glancing at Hank again before sighing.
DeSoto placed his hand on Gage's shoulder, the two sharing a look that made Hank pause for just a second, DeSoto's thumb rubbing absently at the fabric of Gage's shirt, and the cogs in Hank's brain began to spin as he began to try and figure out what he was seeing.
But the moment passed and DeSoto sighed, rolled his eyes with a fond smile, and said, "Hey, look, I'll let someone look at it the next time we're there, does that make you happy?"
And Gage huffed a, "no, wish you'd let me call," but relented with a sag and stood up. He brushed off his pants and held out his hand to pull his partner up, who accepted the proffered hand.
And if their hands lingered together for a moment longer than necessary, well, Hank averted his eyes and saw nothing.
DeSoto had, eventually, gotten his knee looked at, and as he had said, it was a small bruise. Didn't even need ice. Gage looked a little more relaxed when he relayed the news, and Hank had to carefully school his features to not tease his young paramedic about his worrying.
In the end he had nodded and simply told the two, "good, I'm glad you're okay," before they had been called out again.
Hank had still been thinking about the look and the touches when he noticed more.
Now, he wasn't a stranger to silent communication, he and Stoker did it a lot, when Kelly and Gage got into one of their spats, and it was easier to share a look and an raised eyebrow, and he knew DeSoto and Gage did so a lot as well.
But there was something different about some of these looks, as if they were communicating something totally disconnected from the station and their job. Something deeper and more secret, that they didn't want to be shared with the rest of the crew.
Hank noticed more lingering touches. Now, Gage was a physical person to begin with, a slap on the back here, a knee tap there, shoulder bumps and an arm rested on someone's shoulder with a grin. But the nature of some of these small moments–that Hank wouldn't have been privy to if he weren't so observant, always watching, calculating–made him wonder, think.
Like when he had walked by the bay as the squad parked, and for a long moment neither Gage or DeSoto moved, DeSoto reaching out and curling his arm around Gage's shoulder in a sort of awkward hug.
Or when DeSoto had tripped over the broom Kelly had carelessly flung to the floor when they had been called out, and forgot to pick up when they got back. Gage had caught DeSoto by the elbow and steadied him, and his hand stayed, their faces closer than they should have been, before they both straightened up, Gage already turning to chew Kelly out and Roy haplessly following to keep his partner out of trouble.
It didn't take long to put two and two together. He didn't say anything, just kept watching, kept an eye on his paramedics, because he knew, if he was correct, what they were doing would cost them their jobs or worse if the wrong person found out. Hank never cared what others thought right or wrong, and didn't care about the perceived taboo of it all.
He only cared about keeping his crew, his family safe. On calls and off duty all the same.
But, honestly, it took the two of them long enough. With how close they had been when Hank first joined the station as their new captain, well, he'd have thought something was up much sooner if he didn't find out that DeSoto was happily married with two kids.
And if he worried about how DeSoto's wife would have reacted about her husband possibly cheating on her? Well, an overheard phone call quickly soothes his worries.
Roy had called JoAnne after a pretty grueling fire, fresh burn across his cheek, white bandage a stark pristine square against his soot-stained face. He had headed for the phone before showering, and Cap happened to be leaving the shower and overhead part of the conversation.
"Mmhmm, no we're-we're both okay. A little charred and bruised but neither of us had to stay at Rampart so that's good." A pause as DeSoto's wife spoke and Cap could hear the relieved grin in his voice. "No, yeah, he'd like that. I'll let him know, he'll be ecstatic."
Another pause, and DeSoto bid her farewell with a, "I love you," and then, surprised Hank by lowering his voice and saying so quietly that if Hank wasn't eavesdropping, he wouldn't have heard. "And Johnny loves you too, I know he'd want to tell you himself but I think he's in the shower right now."
Hank waited a moment before walking by, not even glancing at DeSoto as to not give away that he heard anything, and settled at the counter to pour himself a mug of coffee.
DeSoto greeted Hank with a nod and Hank replied in kind, moving to the table and grabbing the paper. He heard DeSoto leave the room to finally shower and heard him exchange a word with Gage just outside the dayroom doorway.
"Hey, Junior, Joanne wanted to know if you'd want to come over after work tomorrow. There's some housework she wants done, and she'll make your favorite dinner as thanks."
"Oh, of course, Roy. 'S not like I had plans, weather's supposed to be bad for hiking. I'll totally come over."
And then his voice dipped, and Hank could almost hear the wink and smirk, "It's a date, Pally."
DeSoto made a hissed noise and Gage laughed as he sauntered into the dayroom and met Cap's eye.
"Gage," he acknowledged as the paramedics froze for a moment, before he shook himself and sprung towards the coffee.
"Heya, Cap," he greeted, pouring a quick cup of coffee before turning to lean against the counter. Searched Hank's face for something before asking, "So, what'cha doin'?"
"Observing," Hank simply shrugged, straightening the paper and turning the page.
"Right, right, so, uh, how-how much did you hear," he asked, feignedly nonchalant as he peered nervously at Hank. Gage's free hand tapped against the counter as he brought his cup to his lips.
"Enough."
Gage slowly pushed himself off the counter, eyes narrowed and posture defensive, but Hank cut off any argument before it started.
"It's my job to observe, not to butt into anyone's business." He raised a hand to stave off a remark, Gage's mouth already open, and continued. "What you do in your time off is none of my business. What is my business is what you do while working. So do us both a favor and be careful."
Gage stared at him before slumping into a chair, throwing his legs up on the table despite Hank's glare. "Right, Cap. Uh, noted."
"Good. And also, congratulations, it took you long enough."
Gage blinked before giving him a hesitant grin, and let Hank sweep his legs off the table. "Uhh, thanks, Cap, I… thanks?"
Hank just hmmed and turned back to the paper as Lopez entered, and lifted his arm to let Gage snag one of the pages he wasn't reading.