Chapter Text
It wasn’t that the mornings at the firehouse ever lacked energy—but there was something different in the air today. Maybe it was the rare quiet of the common area as Eddie flipped through a book, the gentle humming of the coffee maker, or the softness in Chimneys voice as he told Hen about Jee-Yun's latest escapades. It was peaceful.
The peace didn’t last.
“Morning!” Buck burst in, voice bouncing against the walls, as bright and uncontainable as the grin on his face. He was carrying something in his hand, a folded piece of paper.
Eddie glanced up, eyebrows knitting together as Buck practically slammed the paper onto the counter.
“What is that?” Chim asked, leaning over with a skeptical glance. “A love letter?”
“Better,” Buck said, his grin widening into something almost mischievous. “It’s my bucket list.”
Hen chuckled, the kind that usually meant trouble for whoever was at the center of her amusement. “Your bucket list? Buck, you’re what—thirty now? You’re already halfway through life, aren’t you a little late to start one?”
Buck looked affronted, though it was clear he was loving every second of their attention. “First of all, rude. And second, I wrote this when I was sixteen.”
Eddie closed his book with deliberate slowness, his gaze leveling on Buck. “Sixteen? What were you planning back then? Drink beer and get a girlfriend?”
“Ha!” Buck shot back, though he avoided eye contact, which was all the confirmation Eddie needed. “Look, don’t judge it before you’ve seen it, alright? This list is pure ambition.”
The rest of the team gathered closer, curiosity piqued, as Buck unfolded the crumpled paper.
Evan Buckley’s Bucket List of Awesomeness.
Learn to surf(completed, age 18).- Go skydiving.
Get a tattoo(completed, age 20, regretted briefly at age 21).- Kiss someone in the rain.
- Go roller-skating.
- Play paintball.
Get into a bar fight(completed, age 22, consequences still remembered).- Invent a signature dish.
- Perform on stage.
- Fall in love (???)
- Face a fear.
- Solve a Rubik’s cube.
- Go white-water rafting.
- Take a road trip.
Get six-pack abs(completed, age 21).- Win something big.
- Save a life.
- Learn a magic trick.
- Build something from scratch.
- Sleep under the stars.
Ride a horse(completed age 21)- Learn how to dance.
Chim picked up the list, his eyebrows inching higher with every line he read.
“Really?”
Buck groaned, snatching the paper back with a flourish that was meant to be dramatic but mostly came off as defensive. “Don’t judge sixteen-year-old me. He had dreams.”
Hen leaned forward, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re judging. Sixteen-year-old you has handed us a gift—insight into all of your questionable teenage priorities.”
Buck crossed his arms, glaring at her. “Hey, some of it’s respectable! ‘Learn to surf?’ Solid goal. ‘Save a life?’ Pretty sure I've nailed that one.”
“‘Get into a bar fight,’ though?” Chim countered, shaking his head with a laugh. “What was the thought process there, huh? Did you think you were starring in some low-budget action movie?”
Buck winced, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. That one was dumb. I thought it’d make me look... tough.”
Hen’s grin widened, her eyes gleaming. “And let me guess—it didn’t.”
Buck’s ears turned pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s just say the other guy came out of it looking... less punched.”
Chim doubled over, laughing so hard he almost choked on his coffee. “I’m sorry, but the thought of you trying to throw a punch—it’s too much.”
“I wasn’t that bad!” Buck protested, his voice rising.
Eddie, who’d been quietly leaning against the counter, finally looked up, his mouth twitching in that way it always did when he was holding back a smirk. “Didn’t you tell me you missed and hit a wall instead? Broke your hand?”
Hen dropped her head to the table, shaking with laughter, while Buck glared daggers at Eddie. “And that, mister, is the last time I ever tell you an embarrassing story.”
“The point is,” Buck continued, straightening up with all the dignity he could muster, “I’ve grown since then.”
Before anyone could reply, Bobby walked in, coffee mug in hand, his brows lifting as he took in the scene. The list, the laughter, Buck’s deeply affronted expression—it didn’t take much to put the pieces together. “What’s going on here?” His voice was calm, but it carried that no-nonsense tone that made them all turn toward him.
Hen, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, gestured toward Buck. “He’s got a bucket list. From when he was sixteen. It’s... a lot.”
Bobby frowned, his curiosity piqued. “A bucket list? Why?”
Buck puffed out his chest defensively. “Why not? It’s not a crime to have goals.”
Bobby held out a hand, and Buck reluctantly passed him the list. Watching Bobby read through it was an experience in itself—his expression stayed neutral for the most part, until he reached “get into a bar fight.” The slight shake of his head was answer enough.
“You wrote this when you were sixteen?” Bobby asked, lowering the paper.
“Yep,” Buck said proudly, the grin creeping back. “And I’ve decided I’m going to finish it.”
Bobby’s gaze shifted back to the list, his brow furrowing deeper. “Finish it?”
“Why not?” Buck said with a shrug, the grin now in full force. “Some of it’s already done. The rest? Totally doable.”
“‘Fall in love,’” Chim read over Bobby’s shoulder, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, super easy.”
Buck rolled his eyes. “I’m working on it, okay?”
Hen plucked the list from Bobby’s hand, her grin practically splitting her face. “‘Kiss someone in the rain’? Buck, that’s straight out of a Hallmark movie. What’s next, have a romantic airport reunion?”
“Laugh all you want,” Buck said, taking the list back. “This is happening.”
Eddie leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he studied Buck with amusement. “You’re really serious about this?”
“Absolutely,” Buck said, his voice softening. “Sixteen-year-old me had dreams. I don’t want to let him down.”
For a moment, the kitchen was quiet, everyone letting Buck’s words settle. Then he broke the silence with his usual enthusiasm. “So? What do you guys think? Wanna help me knock some of these off?”
“Absolutely not,” Chim said immediately, raising a hand like a student in class. “I’m not risking my life for some teenage fever dream.”
“Seconded,” Hen added, though her smirk betrayed her amusement. “But I will help mock you every step of the way.”
Buck turned to Eddie, his eyes wide with exaggerated pleading. “What about you? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
Eddie sighed, lips twitching despite himself. “I don’t want to enable you.”
Buck threw his arms out dramatically. “Come on! We’ve faced burning buildings, tsunamis, earthquakes! This bucket list is nothing compared to that.”
Hen leaned over to Chim, her voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Famous last words.”
Chim nodded solemnly. “Truly.”
Buck’s grin softened, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s not just about the list, you know. It’s about... doing something that reminds me why I’ve always wanted more out of life.”
Eddie’s gaze lingered on him, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “And you think finishing this list will do that?”
Buck shrugged, the grin returning, but this time it was softer, more genuine. “It’s a start.”
Bobby glanced back at the paper, shaking his head faintly. “I guess we’ll need to prioritize. Some of these seem... safer than others.”
“Thank you!” Buck exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Finally, someone with faith.”
Hen rolled her eyes. “Don’t thank him yet. We haven’t agreed to anything.”
“Yet,” Buck said, pointing at her with a knowing grin. “I’m wearing you down.”
Hen smirked. “Keep dreaming, Buckaroo.”
The blare of the firehouse alarm cut through the moment, and just like that, the teasing evaporated, replaced with immediate focus. As they moved toward the trucks with practiced efficiency, Buck couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile on his face.
They’d come around. They always did.
The kitchen they were called to still carried the faint smell of smoke, lingering like an unwelcome guest even as the 118 worked to clear it out. It wasn’t the worst fire they’d ever dealt with—not by a long shot—but there was something particularly exhausting about the aftermath of a flambé gone wrong. The kind of fire that was more of a stubborn inconvenience than a true threat.
Hen’s voice crackled over the comms, slicing through the haze as she adjusted a fan near the open window. “You know, I can’t get over this ‘kiss someone in the rain’ thing, Buck. You do realize rain isn’t some magical, romantic mist, right? It’s wet, it’s cold, and it ruins good hair days.”
Across the room, Buck’s laugh came through the line, light and unapologetic. “It’s not about staying dry, Hen. It’s about the drama. The spontaneity! Haven’t you seen the movies?”
Chim shook his head from where he was standing near the charred remains of the stove, giving one last sweep to make sure no embers had been overlooked. “Oh yeah, and then you both slip, fall, and end up in the ER. Very romantic.”
“You’re all so cynical!” Buck shot back, his voice practically buzzing with that familiar brand of stubborn optimism. “I’m telling you, there’s something about it that just... feels like a moment, you know?”
“Well,” Hen said with a chuckle, her tone as dry as the air outside, “I hope that moment includes a flu shot, ‘cause you’re gonna need it.”
“Or a really thick blanket,” Eddie chimed in from the next room, the faint edge of a smirk coloring his voice. “At least bring an umbrella if you’re so set on it.”
“Ugh, come on!” Buck groaned, the sound exaggerated but not entirely dramatic. “You guys are ruining the romance. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Hen tilted her head, as though considering it for a moment. “I think my sense of adventure ends where hypothermia begins,” she said, peeling off her gloves and giving the room one last scan.
“And speaking of adventure,” Eddie’s voice returned, this time closer, a teasing note creeping into his words, “what exactly are you planning for the ‘perform on stage’ thing? Because I can’t imagine anything worse than watching you attempt stand-up.”
“Oh, I’d be great at stand-up!” Buck countered, defensive and cheerful in equal measure. Even through the comms, his grin was impossible to miss.
“Yeah, if the goal is to make the audience collectively groan for an hour,” Eddie replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he emerged from the smoke-streaked kitchen.
“Stand-up comedy?” Bobby’s voice cut in over the line, steady and calm with just a hint of amusement.
Hen grinned as she tapped her comms. “We’re just dissecting Buck’s teenage bucket list, Cap.”
“Ah,” Bobby said, the single syllable carrying all the weight of someone who had seen enough of Buck’s antics to know better than to be surprised. “He did have some... unique aspirations.”
“Unique?” Chim scoffed, laughing as he adjusted the straps on his gear. “More like a recipe for disaster. I mean, who actually thinks getting into a bar fight is a good idea?”
“It was sixteen-year-old me!” Buck protested, his voice tinged with equal parts exasperation and amusement. “He wanted to be a badass. Can you blame him?”
Bobby sighed, though the faint smile in his tone gave him away. “Just tell me you’re not planning on revisiting that one.”
“Not unless someone starts something with me first,” Buck said innocently, which only earned a collective groan from his teammates.
Hen rolled her eyes, the kind of fond exasperation she reserved exclusively for Buck. “I think you and ‘making good choices’ need to spend more quality time together.”
“Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I?” Buck shot back, grinning through the comms. “And besides, some of the list is completely safe.”
“Safe-ish,” Hen corrected, her tone thoughtful now. “Like paintball. That could work. Team bonding and all that.”
“Exactly!” Buck exclaimed, his enthusiasm instantly reigniting.
“Team-building exercise with paintball?” Bobby mused, his voice coming through as a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. “Could be good for morale... as long as people don’t get too competitive.”
“No promises,” Eddie said, a sideways glance at Buck, the smirk on his face unmistakable.
“Please, I could take you,” Buck said, puffing his chest out as if to prove his point.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Take me where?”
“Anywhere you want, Diaz,” Buck replied, a mischievous gleam in his eye. His grin was met with a laugh from Hen, her head shaking as she turned away.
“Alright, dial it back,” Chim groaned, throwing a rag into his bag. “We’re still technically at a call. Save the flirting for later.”
Bobby’s voice broke through with a finality that brought them all back on task. “Alright, team. We’re clear. Regroup outside.”
“Copy that, Cap,” Hen said, her tone all business now as she secured the fan and headed for the exit.
“On it, Cap,” Eddie echoed, his eyes meeting Buck’s for just a moment longer than necessary, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he turned away.
Buck followed behind, nudging Eddie playfully as they walked. “So, Bobby,” he called out, unable to resist, “you’ll help me with my signature dish, right?”
Bobby glanced over his shoulder, a chuckle escaping him. “Yeah, Buck. That I can help with.”
“Perfect!” Buck said, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders as they headed to the truck. “I’m thinking Italian-Japanese fusion. Bold, right?”
Eddie snorted. “Bold? Try disastrous.”
“Oh, come on,” Buck said, leaning into him. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I have adventure,” Eddie replied, his voice warm but dry. “I also have standards.”
“Standards, huh?” Buck teased, bumping him lightly. “Good thing I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.”
They climbed into the truck, the laughter trailing behind them like the faint smoke still hanging in the air. Eddie leaned back, the smallest of smiles lingering as he watched Buck settle in, oblivious to the knowing glances shared by the others. For all his chaos, Buck was their chaos, and none of them would have it any other way.