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Most days the 118 was a busy station house, calls coming back to back, leaving barely a moment to eat, think, or use the restroom; but some days, the bell didn’t ring at all, the crew ran out of scut work, boredom set in, and Buck, always Buck, aimed to save the day.
“Have you ever thought about time travel?” Buck asked, closing the magazine he had been reading.
Chimney glanced up from his book with mild interest, Eddie flopped back in his chair with a groan, and Hen set down her pen, raising an eyebrow. “Not possible. Why?” Hen asked, hoping to head off a conversation that would end with Bobby scolding them.
“Uh-uh,” Buck waved his magazine in the air smugly, “National Geographic says it might be possible, but tricky.”
Hen rolled her eyes, dubious. “Does it really say that Buck?”
Buck shrugged. “Maybe. Sort of. But listen! Imagine if you could…where would you go?”
Eddie sat up straight again. “That depends. Are we allowed to interfere? Or do we have to consider the Butterfly Effect? Change one thing, change everything?”
Confusion crossed Buck's face. “What? Not much point if we can’t change things right?”
“Sure,” Chimney piped up, from the sofa across from Buck. “But changing the past changes the future. For better or worse. Like, say, if someone had run over Doug with their car, great as that would have been, I probably never would have met Maddie, because she would have had no reason to come to L.A.”
“Harsh, but true.” Hen acknowledged from her spot at the table.
“I guess…” Buck’s forehead creased as he thought, “but what about just seeing cool things? Like the moon landing, or the dinosaurs?”
Eddie snorted a laugh. “Big time gap there Buck.”
Buck shot him a glare. “Whatever. I’m just saying, seeing the dinosaurs, or watching the moon landing wouldn’t change the future. Getting a ticket on the Titanic and saving that poor Jack guy though? That would. See, I get it.”
Chimney chortled rudely. “Yeah except ‘that Jack guy' isn't real!”
“Yes he is!” Buck argued, cheeks reddening. “I watched the movie, Chim! Based on a true story?”
Eddie held up a hand to stop Chimney from retorting too harshly and hurting Buck's feelings. Moving from his chair, Eddie took a seat beside Buck and patted his leg.
“The story took place on the Titanic, a real boat, but the characters were made up by James Cameron.” Eddie cut Buck off before he could interject, “but you're right, saving him would change the future, if he were real.”
“You don’t know for sure!” Buck objected.
“Uh, ya we do, cause we read,” Chimney held up his book with a smug grin.
Buck stuck his tongue at him, which only made his grin widen.
“Keep in mind that time travelers aren’t meant to be where they are, so just their presence changes things,” Hen put in, without stopping work on whatever she was writing. “Now if science could reverse time, that would be something.”
Leaning into Eddie's side, Buck asked.
“What’s the difference?”
Hen shrugged. “Like rewinding a tape, versus rewriting a book.”
Eddie loved the little wrinkle that appeared between Buck's eyebrows when he was working to figure things out.
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“No,” Bobby entered the conversation without leaving the kitchen, “rewind a movie and the story is the same when you play it again. Rewrite a book and you have two different stories.”
Buck considered that, and quickly accepted it because Bobby's word was gospel. Turning in his seat, Buck asked their captain.
“Where would you go if you could time travel Bobby?”
To his credit Bobby's expression didn’t change much, but Eddie winced as soon as the words were out of Buck's mouth.
“I’d save my family, Buck,” Bobby answered just loud enough to be heard, “or never have put them in danger in the first place.”
Buck turned around, wringing his hands in his lap, and Eddie gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“True for most us I think, Buck.” Eddie tried to comfort. “Wanting to save people we've lost.”
“Sorry,” Buck said over his shoulder to Bobby.
Bobby smiled, a little sadly. “No, Buck you were just having fun. Let’s keep it that way. I didn’t mean to ruin it. I think I’d like to see the gladiator fights in Rome.”
Buck brightened at that, and Eddie was glad to have dodged a bullet. Buck was sensitive, and they sometimes forgot that. Even Chimney, who loved to tease, looked relieved.
“Isn’t that crazy violent?” Buck asked Bobby.
Bobby shrugged, sliding a pan into the oven. “Sure, but by some accounts they were freeborn, or ex slaves who chose to fight. They were fed like kings, and had access to the best medical care. Sort of like an old school UFC. Had to be entertaining.”
Buck accepted that, and turned his attention to Hen, who was too distracted for Buck's liking. “What about you, Hen?”
Hen set down her pen to give it some thought. “I think I’d join the civil rights movement…you know get into the real nitty gritty of making change…protests and all that. Be a radical.”
“Cool,” Buck said, happy to be involving everyone in his boredom-busting conversation. “You'd be great at that Hen.”
“Thanks, Buck,” she said, “I like to make good change.”
Feeling ignored, Chimney clambered up from his sprawled position. “I'd be a cowboy back when people could just claim land. Settle on some huge ranch, like in Yellowstone, spend my days rounding up cattle and riding the range."
Hen huffed, giving him a scathing glare. “And what about all the native people the Homestead act displaced? That was a nasty business, that still hasn’t been sorted out.”
Chimney pointed an accusatory finger at Bobby. “Hey, I thought we decided this was all in good fun! Hen should lighten up. I only want to ranch, not oppress anyone.”
“You know nothing about ranching!” Hen accused, “this is the first I’ve ever heard of ‘Cowboy Chim'.”
Eddie stood, raising a placating hand. “Hey, now, relax, if Chim wants to be a cowboy we should let him.” Reseating himself, Eddie went on, “in fact I think I might join him. Ranching is good, honest work, and I’m great on a horse. Might even try the rodeo, roping, riding the broncs…I’d be good at that.”
Chimney rubbed at his chin, looking Eddie up and down. “Sure, partner, just so long as you don’t get too caught up in the glory, that you forget to pull your weight on the ranch.”
Buck was genuinely offended, butting in to point out that he and Eddie would be sticking together, even while time traveling.
“I’m not going anywhere without Eddie, so you either include me in the ranch or we're going somewhere else. Like…ancient Egypt, or 1920’s New York. How cool would that be?”
“You want to live through prohibition?” Chimney asked, wryly, “last I checked you enjoy a beer as much as I do, kid.”
Hen shook her head, but Bobby happily pointed out that New York City never really gave in to prohibition laws.
“They fought tooth and nail,” Bobby informed, wiping down the counters with a rag, “the immigrant population especially. There was a good living to be made in liquor and they weren’t about to have it taken away. Lots of illegal trade going on, so it would be a dangerous place.”
Buck sniffed at that, wrapping a possessive arm around Eddie. “Well, either way I’m sticking with Eddie, so you’ll have to deal with it Chim.”
“Down boys,” Hen ordered, on her feet and heading for the kitchen. “Just having fun right? Besides, Chim will never cut it as a rancher. He's scared of horses and cattle. You and Eddie can take over when he runs screaming back to civilization.”
Everyone laughed except Chimney, who grabbed up Hen's papers off the table, threatening to run off with them.
“Don’t you dare!” Hen warned, moving to intercept Chim, chasing him around the table. “I’ve been working on that for hours!”
Chim dodged around her, heading for the stairs “Admit I’m a good rancher and I’ll give it back,” he taunted, thundering down the steps with Hen right on his heels.
“Health and safety!” Bobby called after them, “don’t run on the stairs!”
Two ‘sorries' floated back up their way, and Bobby shook his head fondly, while Buck turned to Eddie with a serious expression.
“I wouldn’t go anywhere unless we were going together,” Buck swore, eyes locked on Eddie's. Eddie gave him a look of pure indulgence. “You know it right?”
“Course not Buck,” he said, brushing the side of his face, “there'd be no fun in that.”