Work Text:
Buck was having an unusually perfect morning.
He woke up early, cleared his emails before even getting out of bed, knocked out a few sets on his bench press and had a long, hot shower.
His breakfast? Overnight oats with chocolate chips and coconut. He even had time to finish Wordle before heading out the door.
So, of course, it couldn’t last.
Because when he steps outside, he finds a small black cat sprawled across the hood of his Jeep, staring at him like it owns the place.
The cat lifts its head, meows once (judgmentally, Buck thinks), and then flops back down like it had a long morning.
“Shoo,” Buck tries, waving his hand.
The cat does not shoo. The cat doesn’t even blink.
Seriously?
Buck approaches, and the cat lifts its head again, clearly unimpressed by him, though he’ll admit… it’s kinda cute. Midnight black fur with a bright yellow collar that stands out against it. Unlike most cats in the area, who are strays, this one’s obviously someone’s pet. He checks the tag while giving the cat a stroke under its chin, she purrs immediately.
Optimus Prime
323-555-7582
“…Someone really named their cat Optimus Prime?”
Just to be sure the cat isn’t lost, Buck snaps a photo and sends a text to the number.
BUCK:
I have your cat?
(Attachment: Photo of Optimus Prime, looking regal and mildly inconvenienced)
UNKNOWN:
shit
i mean shoot
i mean HOW did you get my cat??
BUCK:
She was just sitting on my car and refuses to move.
Do you live nearby?
UNKNOWN:
stranger danger???
i’m not giving you my address FBI.
BUCK:
…Do you want your cat back?
UNKNOWN:
my dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out she got out
can you like
watch her for a sec?
ill get my babysitter to bring me over
BUCK:
Babysitter?
How old are you?
UNKNOWN:
stop asking me questions
why you tryna dox me?
my dad has a gun
okay
he doesn’t
but he’s like
really tough and will totally fight you
BUCK:
Not engaging with… whatever this is.
Can you just give me your dad’s number to give you your cat back?
UNKNOWN:
what part of he’ll be mad do you not get grandpa?
i will text when i can come get her
BUCK:
Her?!
You really named your girl cat Optimus Prime?
UNKNOWN:
bro don’t use her government name like that
we call her opie
well i do
my dad calls her princess
u wouldn’t believe he hated her at first
Buck snorts out a laugh. The ‘tough’ dad calls this tiny black cat Princess.
Honestly, fair. She does have a vibe.
BUCK:
Why is your number even on here if you’re a literal child?
UNKNOWN:
my dad said if i wanted her i had to be responsible
BUCK:
Yeah, that’s going great so far.
UNKNOWN:
okay judgey
she’s slippery alright?
BUCK:
Right.
Well, I need to know how to give Opie back.
I have work.
UNKNOWN:
lol
she loves adventure
have fun with her
tell her i love her and i will see her soon
Buck stares at the phone and furrows his brows… That’s it? What’s he supposed to do?
Leave the cat in his apartment? Not a chance. His building doesn’t allow pets and Mrs Farley is a busy body, she’ll sus the cat out before he’s had time to bring her inside and for all he knows, Opie might destroy his couch in ten minutes flat.
But bringing a cat to the firehouse? Can he do that?
He doesn’t really have any other option.
Buck sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Guess you’re coming to work with me, Opie.”
This is going to be fun.
When Buck pulls into the fire station parking lot, Opie is curled up in his lap. He’s pretty sure that driving with a cat sprawled across your legs is some kind of traffic violation, but honestly, it was better than her freaking out and launching herself onto his face.
“Okay, you’re not going to like this,” he whispers, gently placing her into his gym bag. “But this is how it has to be for a minute.”
Opie’s unimpressed stare says, I will remember this betrayal.
Once inside, Buck rushes through changing into his uniform, grabs the bag and takes the stairs to the loft two at a time.
He needs to get this out of the way.
“Bobby,” he says, voice tentative but hopeful.
Bobby, mid sip of coffee at the dining table, looks up from his paperwork. A few others from the team are gathered around, cereal bowls in hand, already looking way too amused for this time of day.
Bobby’s eyes flick to the gym bag suspiciously bulging in Buck’s arms.
“Buck, what did you do?”
Buck slowly unzips the bag and Opie peeks her head out like the world’s most judgmental jack in the box.
Bobby sighs. Deeply.
“Where did you even get that?”
“Her,” Buck corrects, holding Opie up like Simba to his Rafiki. “Her owner can’t get her until later and I couldn’t leave her in my apartment.”
“No,” Bobby says immediately.
“Bobby,” Buck tries again, now cradling Opie like a baby, her tiny paw swatting at the badge on his uniform like it’s a toy. “Technically, she’s helping with my mental health and as you know a happy firefighter is a productive firefighter, right?”
“Absolutely not.”
Buck places Opie on the table and she confidently saunters over to Bobby, tail swishing right in his face.
Buck grins, “See? She’s already part of the team.”
Opie decides to prove Buck’s point in the worst way possible, dips her paw into Bobby’s coffee and realises hot liquid is not for her. She yelps dramatically and topples off the table with all the grace of a potato rolling off a shelf.
Buck clears his throat. “She’s… still learning the ropes.”
Bobby pinches the bridge of his nose. “One day.”
“Thank you, Bobby!” Buck chirps cheerily.
“Don’t make me regret it.” Bobby points at him.
Buck makes himself a coffee, brews a new cup for Bobby as a peace offering and settles at the table while Opie curls up beside him, looking perfectly innocent despite the chaos she’s already caused. He snaps a photo and texts it to her owner.
BUCK:
You have 24 hours before I drop her at the pound.
(Attachment: Opie curled up on the table, looking adorable.)
KID EVIL:
awwwwww
look at her
can’t believe she got a job before me
Before Buck can roll his eyes at the kid’s response, Chimney’s voice echoes across the loft.
“Why does it smell like fur and chaos in here?” Buck looks up just in time to see Opie rubbing herself against Chimney’s leg.
“Oh dear,” Buck whispers, already bracing himself.
Chimney jumps back like he’s just encountered a tiny, furry demon. “I’m gonna kill you, Buck!”
“I mean… you could, but you’d be a monster. Look at that face.” Buck grins, rushing over and holding up Opie proudly.
“Cats are evil, Buck,” Chimney insists, rubbing at face.
“She’s not evil, she’s adorable,” Buck argues, scratching behind Opie’s ears. “Be nice.”
“When did you get a cat?” Hen asks, appearing behind Chimney, smirking like she’s already enjoying this way too much.
“I’m cat sitting,” Buck explains. “She got lost and her owner can’t get her until the end of the day. Her name is Optimus Prime, but they call her Opie.”
Hen raises an eyebrow. “Her name is Optimus Prime?”
“Yeah, I asked the same thing,” Buck admits. “It’s a teenager’s cat, I think. She’s tiny, might even still be a kitten? When do cats stop being kittens anyway? Actually… never mind, I’ll Google it.”
Hen chuckles. “This is going to be an interesting day.”
It takes approximately 45 minutes for Buck to realise that having a cat at the firehouse is going to be a disaster.
Opie’s first mission? Climbing the fire truck like it’s her own personal jungle gym. Buck knew that cats were climbers obviously, he’s rescue his fair amount from trees, in his many years as a firefighter.
But he didn’t think something like this would happen so quickly?
She perches herself on top, completely unbothered by Buck’s increasingly desperate pleas.
“Opie, get down,” Buck calls, hands on his hips like a frustrated parent. “It’s dangerous up there.”
Opie pokes her head over the edge, blinking slowly like she’s absolutely not getting down.
“Cool. She’s mocking me,” Buck mutters.
Hen watches them from the sidelines and snorts. “She’s got more backbone than you.”
Buck sighs, resigned to his fate and starts climbing after her. He’s almost got her when the loud blare of the siren goes off.
Buck yelps, nearly drops Opie and clings to the truck like his life depends on it.
From below, Chimney is grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Hi, Buck.”
Buck glares. “Not funny.”
“Oh, it was hilarious,” Bobby calls from the other side of the truck.
“Traitor,” Buck mutters under his breath.
The rest of the morning is… less than productive.
Buck has stuff to do. Stuff that he is never going to get done if this fucking cat doesn’t stop getting in his business.
He’s lucky they are having a relatively slow morning and no calls have come in, but he knows that won’t last.
What is he supposed to do if they need to leave?
Put her in his locker?
Take her on the call?
He throws his rag in the bucket and plops down on the bench of his turnout cubby, staring at his phone, surly he can figure this out.
“What are you doing?” Hen ask as she approaches and looks at his phone screen that he can’t hide quick enough.
A Google search of, How to entertain a cat at work, probably giving him away while Opie slinks away from his lap.
“Fatherhood looks good on you.”
“This is temporary,” Buck grumbles. “She has an owner.”
“Uh-huh. Tell that to the cat currently napping in your turnout gear.” She snorts and sips her coffee.
Buck glances down to see Opie curled up in his jacket, snoozing peacefully.
“God, why does she have to be so cute,” he whispers, snapping another photo to send to the kid.
BUCK:
She’s sleeping on the job.
(Attachment: Opie passed out in his turnout gear.)
KID EVIL:
omg
you’re a firefighter
BUCK:
Yep.
KID EVIL:
so is my dad
lol
u better not tell him
BUCK:
Kid, I don’t even know who your dad is.
KID EVIL:
good
wait
are you cute?
Buck blinks.
That’s… a really weird question to receive from a child.
BUCK:
I do not know how to respond to that.
KID EVIL:
my dad’s gay now apparently
and u seem cool
Buck is actually a little proud that this Gen Z kid thinks he’s cool.
(And also mildly horrified at this entire situation.)
BUCK:
Wouldn’t that mean you’d have to tell him you lost Optimus Prime?
KID EVIL:
damn yeah
nevermind
your loss
“This kid is going to be the death of me,” Buck mutters.
The first time the alarm goes off, Buck should have anticipated Opie freaking out.
He should have.
He did not.
The bell rings and Opie bolts like she's participating in the Indy 500.
Buck who is just trying to roll up a hose line, trips over it and nearly takes down an entire shelf of equipment like a particularly ungraceful domino.
Bobby just stares at him from over the balcony.
Silent. Judging.
Buck finally gets his hands around her and lifts her to his chest which she doesn’t like apparently, because she screeches.
“Sorry,” he yells to Bobby, holding Opie like a football, “In my defense, she’s very fast.”
Bobby is clearly questioning every decision that led him here, just shakes his head.
He can’t really blame him to be honest.
Buck climbs into the truck, Opie now comfortably perched on his lap like she pays rent.
“Seriously?” Chimney deadpans. “We’re bringing Salem with us now?”
“Her name is Opie,” Buck huffs as she bats lazily at his radio. “Be nice. She just needs some fresh air.”
“Ironically,” Hen says, amused, “we’re literally going to a cat stuck in a tree.”
“Yeah, even I couldn’t make that up,” Buck mutters.
The second they arrive, Opie seizes the moment, launching herself from Buck’s arms and sprinting up the tree, joining the very cat they came to rescue.
“Shit,” Buck mutters.
“Great. Now we have two cats stuck in a tree.” Hen stares up at the tree, unimpressed.
“She’s helping!” Buck tries, rubbing the back of his neck.
“She’s absolutely not helping,” Chimney counters, shaking his head.
Fair point.
By the time Buck gets both Opie and her new best friend out of the tree, he’s officially over it.
“Thank you,” the little girl beams, holding her newly rescued cat. “Hairy Styles says thanks too!” She waves the cat’s paw at him.
Buck watches her go.
“Does anyone name their pets normal names anymore?”
“Nope, my friend’s dog is called Kanye Westie.” Chim shrugs.
“Is it-“
“Yes, it’s a Westie, Buck” Chimney rolls his eyes.
Back at the station, Bobby raises an eyebrow at Buck annoyed. Buck just holds Opie up in front of his face like a fluffy little apology card.
“She’s sowwy,” Buck says, giving his best pout.
“This is exactly why we don’t have a firehouse dog,” Bobby replies, shaking his head. “You’d be insufferable with it.”
“Wait, no! What if we got a firehouse cat instead?” Buck grins, lifting Opie up high. “Lots of stations have dogs… why not a cat?”
“Because dogs can’t climb into the ceiling tiles, Buck,” Bobby deadpans. “And we’re not getting a dog either.”
“But Bobby-“
Bobby’s already walking away.
Buck looks down at Opie. “You are a terrible bargaining chip.”
Somehow he loses her, because of course he does.
BUCK:
Say your cat got lost in a fire station…
Where would you say she’d hide?
KID EVIL:
u are a terrible babysitter
BUCK:
Kid, I’m doing you a favour here.
KID EVIL:
try somewhere dark
she likes to sleep under my bed
BUCK:
Cool.
When you finally tell an appropriate adult to come get your evil cat, it’s station 118
Also, what is your name?
KID EVIL:
are you gonna kidnap me?
BUCK:
I can assure you that after the last few hours with your cat, I absolutely do not want to kidnap you.
KID EVIL:
rude and it’s chris
BUCK:
Nice to finally know something about you.
I’m Buck.
KID EVIL:
oh
are we using fake names?
i’m tom then
BUCK:
Buck is my real name.
Also, you literally just said your name is Chris.
Why Tom?
KID EVIL:
a tom is a boy cat
like a buck is a boy deer
duh
also no way is Buck your real name
BUCK:
My name is Evan Buckley, I’m a firefighter at Station 118, and I’m a Cancer.
Is that enough info to prove I’m not kidnapping you or your cat?
KID EVIL:
for now
Buck searches the station like he’s defusing a bomb, finally finding Opie curled up on Bobby’s desk chair, looking smug as hell.
“This fucking cat is going to ruin my career,” he whispers to himself.
Opie blinks at him, slow and lazy.
Meow.
“Don’t meow me,” Buck scolds, scooping her up. “Girl, you’re gonna get me fired.”
RIINNNGGGGGG.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Buck, do not bring the cat inside. This is a fire,” Bobby warns, turning in his seat with the exhausted look of a man who has seen too much.
Buck, already cradling Opie, protests. “But-”
“No.”
“But she’s-“
“No.” Bobby points at him. “Leave her in the truck.”
Buck sighs dramatically. “Fine. You stay here,” he tells Opie, placing her on the passenger seat. “No funny business.”
Opie blinks at him slowly, is that the feline equivalent of flipping him off?
It’s a small kitchen fire, nothing too wild. They’re almost done when Buck hears it.
Meow.
“No,” Buck whispers to himself, freezing mid step. “No, no, no—”
He turns around, and sure enough, Opie is casually strolling through the smoke like she’s judging the homeowner’s interior design choices.
“What?” Buck hisses. “How did you-”
Opie, utterly unbothered, starts batting at a piece of burnt curtain like it’s her new favourite toy.
What the fuck.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Buck whisper… yells, scrambling toward her. “How did you get out of the truck?!”
“Buck, who are you talking to?” Bobby’s voice crackles through the radio.
“Uh… no one, Cap!” Buck replies, as Opie, clearly thrilled with her new game, knocks the curtain scrap to the floor and chases it.
Bobby’s tone is suspicious. “Buck. Is that-”
“Okay, yes, but in my defense, I have no idea how she got here!” Buck scoops Opie up and bolts out of the house.
Chimney, already outside, raises an eyebrow. “Sure. She just teleported herself over?”
“She must’ve snuck out of the truck when I grabbed my helmet! I locked her in, I swear!” Buck insists, holding Opie like she’s an exhibit.
Bobby just sighs the long, suffering sigh of a man too old for this nonsense. “This cat is going to be the death of me.”
Me too.
Before Buck can even get Opie settled back in the truck (for real this time), they get another call.
This time a Ladder rescue.
“Stay,” Buck orders Opie firmly before shutting the door. She blinks at him innocently, but Buck knows there’s nothing innocent about this cat.
He’s halfway up the ladder, focused on the man dangling from the second story window, when he hears it.
Meow.
Buck’s eyes widen in horror. “No. Nope. Not happening.”
He looks down.
Opie is at the base of the ladder.
“Is that a… cat?” He hears one of the bystanders asks.
“Oh no,” Buck groans. “Fuck. Fuck.”
Opie meows again, louder this time and starts climbing up after him.
“Buck, control your cat!” Bobby calls, exasperated.
“I’m 20 feet in the air, Cap!! What do you want me to do?!” Buck yells back, carefully trying not to look down.
“Chimney, grab the cat!” Bobby orders.
“Why do I have to grab the demon?” Chim grumbles but heads over to grab at Opie.
Buck, meanwhile, tries to focus on the poor guy clinging to the windowsill.
“Hi, sir,” Buck says, as if this is a totally normal day. “I’m just going to wrap this around you and—”
“I think I’m losing it,” the man interrupts, wide eyed. “All I keep hearing meowing.”
Buck sighs deeply. “Yeah. That’s real.”
Back at the station, Bobby says nothing.
He just gives Buck the look, the one that says, I’m too tired for this bullshit, before heading to make lunch.
Buck follows him up the stairs to the loft, with Opie tucked under his arm.
He drops onto the couch, phone in hand, and texts Chris.
BUCK:
Chris, you need to come get your cat, man. I’m going to get fired.
KID EVIL:
my dad’s still here
just need u to watch her till tomorrow pls
also u lied
BUCK:
I didn’t lie.
KID EVIL:
yeah u did
ur totally cute
i looked u up on insta
Buck’s jaw drops. “What the—”
BUCK:
Kid, can you please stop trying to set me up with your dad??
KID EVIL:
why not?
u think ur too good for him?
he’s a catch
Buck groans, running a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”
BUCK:
JUST COME GET YOUR CAT
KID EVIL:
dont shout at me
im only 13
“Thirteen?!” Buck blurts out loud, making Opie jump. “No, no, no- no way!”
Hen, passing by, raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay over there, Buck?”
“Fine” Buck panics.
“Sure, weirdo.” Hen smirks, walking away.
Buck frantically types back.
BUCK:
Okay, Chris… you have to tell your dad.
You are a literal child.
KID EVIL:
make me
Buck leans his head back against the couch. “I’m gonna start banging my head into a wall, because of your owner.” He tells Opie, who just jumps down from the couch with a swish of her tail.
He gets it now, why they called girl cats queens, because this cat for sure thinks she’s royalty.
BUCK:
Kid, if you don’t tell your dad and come get your cat, my boss is going to make me take her to the pound.
Your choice.
KID EVIL:
fine
“Buck, why is your cat swimming?!” Hen’s voice calls from the kitchen, pulling him from his spiral.
Buck’s eyes widen. “No, no, no—”
He turns to find Opie in the sink, surrounded by bubbles, happily splashing around like a tiny aquatic menace.
“She’s not my cat!” Buck yells back, sprinting over.
Hen, arms crossed, looks genuinely perplexed. “Aren’t cats supposed to hate water?”
“Cap,” Chimney groans from the other side of the room, “how long are you going to let him keep that thing here?”
Buck, scooping Opie out of the sink and wrapping her in a dish towel, mutters, “I think I negotiated for the kid to tell his dad.”
Hen narrows her eyes. “Kid?”
“Buck,” Bobby says slowly, voice full of warning.
“The number on the collar is a kid’s number,” Buck blurts out. “He’s scared to tell his dad he lost her, but he’s telling him now, I swear!”
Bobby sighs, giving Buck a long look. “Just make sure the dad is actually informed.”
“Will do, Cap,” Buck promises, squeezing water out of Opie’s fur.
The cat gives him a look that looks far to human for an animal.
“Now if you excuse me, I’m going to dry the cat.”
They all snort.
“Yes, I hear myself” he groans.
Drying the cat is, predictably, a nightmare.
Opie wiggles, claws out, and somehow manages to escape twice as Buck tries and fails, to contain the tiny menace.
“This cat is going to be the end of me,” Buck mutters as Opie escapes again from his grip and darts under the table.
From across the room, Chimney grins. “This is better than cable.”
“Asshole.” He whispers and he isn’t sure who he is talking to, Chimney or Opie.
The next monumental screw up, because let’s face it, things with Opie have escalated from cute chaos to this cat is actively trying to end me, happens while Buck’s peacefully sorting radios after lunch.
A simple, structured task with a checklist.
Buck loves a good checklist.
Predictable. Foolproof.
Except nothing is foolproof when you’ve accidentally adopted a tiny, four legged agent of mayhem.
Opie, currently sprawled on her back, has decided that the radio straps are her mortal enemies. She’s wrestling one like she’s training for the WWE.
Which would be fine, adorable even, if she hadn’t started batting at the actual radio.
“Oh no. No, no, no—”
Too late.
A very loud, very undignified meow crackles through the radio. And not just any radio. The station wide radio.
The dispatch system radio.
“Uh…118, do you require assistance?” comes a bewildered voice.
Fuuuuuuck.
Buck lunges for the radio like his ass is on fire. “Nope! Just…technical difficulties!” His laugh is high pitched and way too awkward.
There’s a pause. “Okay,” the voice replies, clearly amused.
“Buck, was that a cat?” Maddie’s voice cuts in and Buck wants to evaporate on the spot.
“118 is all good,” he repeats quickly, mashing the button. Which is stuck. Of course it’s stuck. He wrestles with it like it’s personally wronged him until it finally clicks off.
He looks up just in time to see Opie, one leg pointing towards the sky, lazily licking herself with an expression that practically screams What are you gonna do about it?
Unbelievable.
Buck’s in the storage closet, surrounded by boxes he has to organise and very much questioning his life choices, when Bobby calls his name.
Buck sighs and glances down at Opie, who’s fast asleep in a makeshift sling around his neck so he can use both his hands. “What did you do now?” he whispers.
She purrs.
Completely innocent.
Suspiciously innocent.
Buck emerges from the closet to see Bobby talking to a man and a kid on crutches animatedly.
The kid spots him first and Buck’s world tilts on its axis.
“Buck!” the kid calls, beaming.
Buck freezes. Wait… what? Who?
“Oh. Oh, of course.” The pieces click into place as he steps closer. “Tom,” he greets with a smile and the kid’s face lights up even more.
Then the man turns around.
And Buck’s brain promptly goes offline.
Holy shit.
Okay. Okay, no one panic.
Especially not Buck.
Especially not because this man, this unbelievably hot man with soulful eyes and strong arms that Buck is absolutely not thinking about right now, has the kind of smile that could make a person rethink every life decision they’ve ever made.
“Hi, we are so sorry,” the man says, flustered and adorable. “Christopher told me what happened and I really can’t apologise enough.” His cheeks flush pink, and Buck’s brain is now officially soup.
“We brought cake to apologise,” Christopher shrugs, already looking around. “Can I check out the firetruck? My dad’s captain is an asshole, he never lets me.”
“Chris,” the man groans, embarrassed.
“It’s true,” Christopher shrugs again and wonders away, already exploring.
“I’m so sorry,” the man repeats, face now fully aflame.
He has seal eyes, Buck’s brain supplies unhelpfully. Big, brown, ridiculously expressive seal eyes.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” Bobby chuckles. “Christopher can look around as much as he wants.”
“Thank you,” Eddie replies, clearly grateful.
Buck carefully peels the sling off and detaches Opie, who lets out a sad meow. He holds her out. “This is yours, huh?”
“She keeps getting out,” Eddie sighs, shaking his head with a fond smile that Buck absolutely does not find endearing. “I swear, she’s an escape artist. I’m Eddie,” he adds, holding out a hand.
Buck takes it.
It’s just a handshake. Just skin touching skin. Totally normal. Except it feels like static electricity zapping straight through him and suddenly Buck’s very aware of every nerve ending in his body.
Eddie chuckles. “Oh, okay, handshakes. Thought you were gonna pass me-”
What? Oh god, is Buck just holding his hand?
Move, you weirdo!
Panicked, Buck shoves Opie into Eddie’s arms instead, mortified.
Eddie coos at the cat. “Hi, princess,” he murmurs softly.
Oh no. He’s hot and he’s gentle with animals. Buck is doomed.
“Eddie lives about fifteen minutes from you,” Bobby adds casually. “Opie covered some ground before getting to your car.”
“Wow,” Buck says weakly, still recovering from the handshake.
The handshake.
Get it together, Buckley.
“You know,” Bobby continues, with a mischievous glint in his eye that Buck absolutely does not trust, “we have a spot open here if you’re looking for a new house, Eddie. Buck can’t keep a partner.”
“Not true!” Buck protests immediately.
“Yes, it is,” Chimney quips, appearing out of thin air like the world’s most annoying genie. He gives Eddie a once over and whistles. “Damn, you are a beautiful man.”
“Where’s the lie?” Hen adds, nodding in agreement. “And I like girls.”
Eddie stammers, flustered, which is somehow even more attractive. Buck is so screwed.“Thanks?” Eddie offers, unsure, ears now a deep shade of red.
“I told Buck he should ask you out, Dad,” Christopher calls from across the room, casually trying on one of the turnout coats. “He’s cool.”
Buck’s eyes widen.
Oh my god.
Eddie is cuddling Opie closer like she’s his emotional support animal, ears still burning, and when their eyes meet, he offers Buck a shy, lopsided smile.
Buck crosses his arms, trying to play it cool, and grins back.
Yeah, okay fine. Maybe he loves that damn cat after all.