Chapter Text
Bailey Nune has a massive problem.
And, for once, it’s one that she cannot solve with her uniquely broad skillset alone.
“You look like you’re thinking extra hard over there,” John points out from his position behind the kitchen counter. He’s making breakfast, whipping up pancake batter in a glass bowl. Not getting enough air in the batter to make a fluffier pancake like she would have, but she’s so distracted she hadn’t really even noticed that detail. Instead, Bailey sits on the barstool at the kitchen island, completely engrossed in the clipboard she holds in one hand, tapping her pen against the marble counter with the other.
Her distraction leads to a lack of coherent response, a random brush of sigh falling from her lips alternatively. Noticing her distraught look, Nolan prompts again, “Everything okay?”
“No, actually, it’s not. We don’t have enough volunteers for the charity auction this weekend,” she explains, and then elaborates, “There’s a nasty flu going around. Half the station’s called out sick this week.”
Nolan raises an eyebrow in confusion, repeating, “Charity auction?”
“It’s an annual event. We raise money for families who are impacted by the wildfires. You know, to help with any necessary medical treatment, emergency purchases, uninsured property damage…things of that nature.”
John nods, signaling his comprehension. He sets the batter bowl on the counter and looks up at his fiancée, grinning happily as he tries to lighten her mood.
“Well…you’ve got at least one volunteer. Sign me up! I’d be happy to help out.”
He immediately expects her to smile back and thank him for his unsolicited generosity, but instead, Bailey shakes her head tightly. She starts again, a slight hesitancy to her tone. “While I appreciate the offer, there’s a reason I didn’t ask you in the first place.” She sighs when Nolan gives her a puzzled look, and attempts to communicate her reason in a way he would understand. “The auction is for dates with the men at the fire station. And we need some really hot guys to bring in the crowd.”
Nolan pauses, lips slowly settling into a frown. “Hold on. Are you saying I’m not hot enough to appeal to women for a charity date auction?”
Silence hangs in the air for a moment. Bailey’s mouth drops open and she scrambles for a response, recognizing her mistake. Quickly, she stammers out, “N-No! Of course not!”
Nolan throws her a disbelieving stare.
“On the contrary…you’re too hot,” Bailey adds, “I can’t risk my fiancé being snatched up by some high-roller.”
He hums, unconvinced. “Mmhmm. Nice save.”
She laughs while he turns the griddle on and throws a ladle into the batter for future use. As John waits for the pan to heat up, he offers, “If it’ll help, I can ask around the station? See if anyone would be willing to partake?”
Bailey ponders on that offer, pursing her lips in thought. “That would be helpful…”
“Then consider it done,” he agrees, placing one scoop of batter into the buttered and heated pan. Bailey smiles at John as he continues to make breakfast for them both, briefly admiring the way he’s so willing to help her. And even after she slightly insulted his ego, too. She thinks to herself at that moment that she’s very lucky to have such a considerate future husband.
She’s lost in that thought for a second before he snaps her out of it with a continuation of their conversation. “You know, Aaron would probably be willing to volunteer. Does he meet the ‘hot enough’ requirement?”
“Yes!” Bailey claps her hand together excitedly. “He would be absolutely perfect.” Nolan prides himself for getting it right, though it’s not really a shocker to him. Thorsen is young, fit, and could probably run laps around some of the firefighters at the station if he wanted to. It was an obvious choice.
Bailey notices John smile as he watches the pancake sizzle in the pan, seemingly impressed with himself. She immediately uses that self-satisfaction high to her advantage, finally asking the question she really wanted to, making sure to approach it in the most nonchalant way possible.
“Hey…do you think Tim would do it, too?”
Nolan lets out a bellowing chuckle, the laugh echoing with a sour bite in the large renovated kitchen. “Do I think Tim Bradford would agree to auction himself off to women like a piece of man-meat? Let alone actually go on a date with one of them? Um, no.” He shakes his head, the laughter transforming into something exceedingly bitter. “In fact, I think if I even attempt to ask, he'd have me demoted back to a P2.”
Bailey scowls and scolds, “Be serious, John.”
He turns to her, the amusement dissipating. “Oh, I’m…not kidding.”
The flat tone of his voice prompts Bailey to roll her eyes. He scoffs and looks up at her, observing how annoyed she is at his reaction. It takes him a moment to piece together that she was being serious about asking Tim, and that makes another question pop into his mind.
“Wait a second. So, Tim’s hot enough to be in your charity event thing, but I’m not?”
Bailey snorts. “Babe. Have you seen that man?”
There’s a long, telling pause. Bailey can see him evaluating behind his eyes, finally coming to the right conclusion when he shrugs and agrees, “Fair point.”
He brushes off the slight offense it inevitably causes him, ignoring the residual laughter from Bailey at his bruised, yet self-aware ego. She allows him a moment to recover before pressing him further on the matter.
“If you can get him to volunteer, I think we’d get some really good donations.” Nolan groans, a sign of clear reluctance to consider her request. She ultimately resorts to pouting. “Tell him it’s for the children. He can’t say no to the children!”
“Have you met Tim? He can definitely say no to the children.” She glares, unimpressed with his smartass retort. The glower makes him sigh eventually, shoulders slumping over himself as he finally caves. “Fine. I’ll…ask.”
“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” Bailey shouts in victory, throwing her hands up in the air with excitement. Nolan holds up a hand, desperately trying to taper her expectations.
“But when I lose my job, it’s on you,” he warns.
“That’s okay with me. I make enough to financially support us both,” she counters.
John shrugs in passive agreement and places a stack of pancakes on the plate, passing it over to Bailey with love and care. She grabs a knife and fork, and silently determines that they are definitely not as fluffy as hers.
She pushes the clipboard to the side before she eats, convinced she will be able to solve her problem at last.