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Brad Torrance had been nothing short of an impossible pain in the ass during his time there, but the 118 are pretty much stuck watching Hotshots if only to see how, if at all, they’re going to be reflected in TV’s number one firefighter drama. The season premier is what brings Buck to Eddie’s front door with a six-pack in one hand and takeout from their favorite Indian place in the other, eager to see what Torrance has taken back to the writers’ room from the firehouse that’s become their second home.
“You’re late!” Eddie chides him, getting the door for him and ushering him towards the couch.
“You already got forks and napkins out?” Buck asks, looking at the coffee table he’s put the beer and food on, “Holy shit, man.”
“Yeah, yeah, forgive me for being eager to see what Brad’s made of us,” he replies, sitting down and quickly extracting his order–tandoori chicken, curry rice, and gulab jamun for dessert–before passing Buck his food and popping the caps off of two bottles for them.
The television’s already on and set to the correct channel, just in time for the opening credits of Hotshots to roll. All very standard, right up until they notice two new names among the series regular billings: Alfie DeNane and Tyler O’Bannon.
“Who the hell are those two?” Eddie asks, but Buck is already on it, phone in hand and Google pulling up results.
“Looks like DeNane’s kinda lesser known, but he did have a pretty big role in an AMC show, and has done some bit parts here and there. As for O’Bannon… oh! He was in that cheesy supernatural show on MTV, Lycanthroteen! Maddie loved it, said it was her comfort garbage show,” he says.
On screen, Captain Race Banner stands before his ever-loyal crew, addressing them, and behind him are two devastatingly handsome men, both staring stoically forward. ‘Now, I know we’ve been down a man since we lost Barry in that lab accident, and though we can never replace him in our hearts… we must replace him on this crew. Budget cuts have cost the LAFD another four houses, but I’m assured by Chief Sampson that this house… our house, is in no danger.’
Buck snorts into his naan. “God, if only it were that simple.”
“Right?”
‘Behind me are Ryan Giffords and Blue Starling. Giffords was with the 226, Starling with the 310. They’re both damn good firefighters, but we can only afford to bring one into the crew.’
One of Banner’s crew gasps aloud. ‘Cap, you mean there’s a competition between them?’
‘Exactly! Whoever meshes the best will join this family, and the other may never find work with the LAFD again.’
The music spikes dramatically at the captain’s proclamation, and then there’s a cut to the first commercial break. Buck turns to Eddie, a confused look on his face. “Hey, maybe I’m reading too much into this, but did you notice that that Ryan Giffords guy kinda looks like you when you were sporting your mustache?”
“I didn’t, mostly because I was too busy staring at the poorly made scar on Blue’s forehead that’s conveniently right where your birthmark is,” he replies. They look at each other, each clearly thinking the same thing, and then Eddie starts chuckling, with Buck following him. “Nah, we’re reading way too much into this.”
+
They most definitely are not reading too much into this. The first two-thirds of the episode feature Ryan and Blue constantly trying to one-up another, only to end up stuck together when a victim at a rodeo has–somehow–ended up trapped on a platform up a support pole and cornered by a furious bull that–again, somehow–has proven resistant to all efforts to tranquilize it. Blue and Ryan bicker their way through the entire scene, until Captain Banner bravely steps in and forces them to play nice.
That’s when the two discover that they mesh extremely well. Blue, it turns out, was once a stripper, and climbing poles is second nature to him, and Ryan is from Montana and grew up on a ranch, allowing him to handle the furious animal while Blue extracts the trapped victim. Once it’s done, the two competitors turn to each other.
‘Never seen a man climb like that before,’ Ryan says with respect, ‘It was pretty badass.’
Blue nods, smiling. ‘So was the way you handled that angry underdone steak, man. You can back me up any day.’
‘Same to you.’
“Oh, come on!” Eddie cries, “Who the hell told Brad about that?!”
Buck swallows thickly. “He, uh… he really took inspiration off of us, didn’t he?”
“I mean, he’s gotta be playing it up for dramatic effect, there’s no way we were that bad.”
“Yeah, obviously,” he says, entirely unsure that it’s been played up at all. “You know we’re so in for it tomorrow at work, right?”
Eddie groans. “God, don’t remind me.”
As the episode draws to its conclusion, Captain Banner gathers his crew once more to deliver yet another inspiring monologue as Blue and Ryan stand behind him. ‘I know we set this out as a competition, but it’s clear that these two brave men are just too damn good together to be separated. To hell with what Chief Sampson said, you’ll both be joining Alpha Shift! I expect you both here bright and early to serve the good people of this wonderful city!’
Blue and Ryan snap salutes like they’re in the military for some reason as they both cry out, ‘Yes, Cap!’
+
“Mornin’, Blue,” Chim says to Buck with a shit-eating grin as soon as they see one another in the locker room that following morning.
“Eat me, Howard,” he grumbles back as he buttons up his uniform.
Hen laughs. “I think it’s sweet, Buck! You and Eddie clearly left quite the impression on Brad for him to clone you two for his show.”
“Why was it just us?” he groans. “Why couldn’t he parody you two? You’re just as entertaining as me and Eddie.”
“Hen and I are actually normal people, Buck,” Chimney says. “Meanwhile you and Prince Cow Eyes over there are, quite frankly, deeply abnormal about each other. It’s no wonder that your nonsense was all that our dear guest could pay attention to.”
Buck’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? How are we abnormal?”
“It would take me all day to answer that question, and frankly, I don’t want to open that can of worms. Suffice it to say that Ravi told me about you two going out while Eddie was off rescuing his kid from a nightmarish life of Texan suburbia, and that is not how someone normal handles the departure of their best friend,” he intones, and Hen just shrugs when Buck looks to her.
“I’m gonna kill the probie,” he grumbles.
“Not a probie anymore, Buckley,” Ravi’s voice suddenly breaks.
“I’m gonna probe something in you if you keep–”
Bobby appears, stern-faced. “Nobody is threatening anyone with probing, Buck, good lord. Now, I know that Brad has certainly taken liberties with the knowledge he’s gained from his time with us, but there is enough ambiguity there for you both to have plausible deniability, and for him to have it as well. We just… keep going about our lives. You don’t have to watch the show if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“I think not watching is worse, unfortunately,” Buck says.
“So be it, but leave whatever you feel about it at the door, the way we all have to, you got it?” he asks, not unkindly.
He nods. “Yeah, got it, Cap.”
+
The thing is, now that it’s happened, he and Eddie really can’t stop watching it. Every week, they crowd onto the couch in Eddie’s living room to watch as Ryan and Blue play out some parody of their lives. It’s like looking through a funhouse mirror, right up until they get to the episode that tackles the sniper incident.
They’re not stupid, they knew this was gonna come up sooner or later. It had even gone semi-viral, the footage of Buck desperately dragging Eddie across the pavement, trailing blood as sniper fire rained over them, and now Hotshots had its very own versions of the exact men it happened to. Buck even has to give them credit, for a show that skews almost ridiculous at times, it was actually surprisingly respectful in its portrayal.
Ryan and Blue and the 119 were just coming off of a successful rescue of a group of blind schoolchildren from a museum fire when the sniper struck, the bullet tearing through Ryan’s shoulder and painting Blue in a spray of blood. Next to him, a gasp ripped its way out of Eddie, and Buck immediately gripped his hand tight while every muscle in the other man’s body tensed up. At the same time onscreen, Blue rushed forward to catch Ryan as he fell, only for both of them to end up on the pavement, blood surrounding them in a growing pool as he screamed for his partner to just hold on. Cut to black, and the episode’s credits rolled.
Now, Eddie is pacing in the kitchen, clutching his half-empty beer like a lifeline. Finally, he forces himself to speak, his voice thick. “Was it… did you really scream like that?”
Buck nods. “Yeah, I think I did. It’s all…”
“A blur,” he finishes for him, “I barely remember it. Just the pain, really. The fear, too.”
“In the truck, you asked me if I was hurt. You were the one who was shot, and you were worried about me.”
“I always worry about you, Buck,” he says, almost reflexively, as if it’s obvious. It makes Buck feel unworthy in a way he’s not really prepared to analyze right now.
The two of them share a long, agonizing look, the gulf of their history between them. Eddie is the one to bridge that gulf, to set down his bottle and stride across the kitchen, but Buck is the one to meet him with open arms. The hug is tight, borderline desperate, the embrace of two people who need a tether because gravity just isn’t enough to keep them in place at the moment.
The selfish part of Buck whispers to him about how perfectly Eddie fits in his arms, how warm he is in his embrace, and then is banished as Christopher appears in the kitchen doorway, oblivious to the moment.
“Are you two done with your show yet, I– oh,” he stops short, confusion on his face. “Should I come back?”
Eddie takes a gentle step back from Buck, and wiping away what are definitely tears brewing in his eyes. “No, no, you’re fine, mijo, what do you need?”
“Dad, what happened? They didn’t kill off those Temu versions of you and Buck, did they?” Christopher asks, surprising a chuckle out of both of them.
Buck shakes his head. “No, bud, at least, I don’t think so. This episode had the, uh… the shooting incident.”
Christopher goes pale at the mention of the shooting before softly exclaiming, “Damn.”
Once upon a time, not so long ago, Hotshots had been his favorite show. However, like with a lot of things, Chris came back from Texas absent his previous enthusiasm for it, a fact for which Buck mentally damns Ramon and Helena Diaz every chance he gets. Still, it hadn’t stopped the kid from giving them both grief about their television counterparts at every opportunity.
“Well, I have something that might cheer you two up, or at least have you guys spiraling about something that isn’t the worst moment in all of our lives,” he says lightly.
With a smirk that borders on taunting, Chris lays his iPad flat on the kitchen, the screen open on TikTok, where there is a–very well done, Buck must admit–drawing on two men kissing passionately. At first, he thinks that Christopher must’ve decided to make this the strangest coming out that he’s ever heard of, but then he studies the image closer. One of the men has a mustache, and the other has a very particular scar above his eye.
Chris taps the screen, and Salt-N-Pepa’s Whatta Man starts playing loudly. Below the image, the caption reads I fear the gay firefighters have taken over my mind and my drawing software #Bryan #HotShotsOnABC
“The internet is shipping you guys,” Chris declares with a bright laugh.
“Shipping us?” Eddie asks, confused as he keeps staring at the image with a blush painting his cheeks, “Shipping us where?”
“As in relationship, Eds,” Buck explains, still unable to tear his eyes away from the image. “As in they want to see Blue and Ryan do… well, that onscreen.”
Again, Christopher breaks into peals of delighted laughter. “There’s plenty of it, too. Some pretty good edits, which is surprising considering we’re only six episodes into this season. Check it out, if you dare.”
Shaking his head as if to clear it, Buck locks the iPad screen before he hands it back to the kid with a baleful look. “Don’t you have better things to do than look up that filth?”
“Didn’t have to look anything up,” he replies, “The algorithm hand-delivered it to me. Don’t worry, it’ll show up on yours soon enough.”
+
Buck’s gonna kill that kid. It’s like his phone was just listening to the entire discussion, which, to be fair, it probably was. Phones are always listening. Honestly, Eddie has the right idea with how intentionally technophobic he is. Either way, Buck’s got bigger problems, like the amount of #Bryan content that’s appearing on the feeds of every social media app he has. He’s not even involved in the fandom, he just follow the show’s official account and Brad!
There are drawings, edit videos, even fan fiction snippets that just appear out of nowhere as he’s scrolling. He’d even clicked on the link to one of the fan fictions, only to nearly crack his screen with the force of his thumb pressing close after seeing that the work was not only explicit, but tagged with the phrase ‘Cum as Lube’. Now, he was no prude–hell, he’d even had that particular experience a couple of times in sluttier years gone by, but the idea of reading about any version of him and Eddie like that made his stomach do somersaults, and not necessarily in the bad way.
Alright, look. Eddie’s a very pretty man. Buck’s never pretended he isn’t, and sure, since he finally acknowledged that the way he sometimes looks at men isn’t always purely as a form of art appreciation, he’s even admitted to himself that there was some attraction on his part, especially in those early days, but he’s never acted upon any of it. He’d even vehemently denied being in love with Eddie to both Tommy and Maddie while Eddie was gone to Texas.
Now, twisted mirrors of them are being made to kiss and much more like Barbie dolls by an online fanbase that numbers likely in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions, and Buck is being forced to admit to himself that yeah, okay, he’s a little bit in love with Eddie Diaz. After seven years of close proximity to a man like him, who wouldn’t be? He’s wonderful, kind and gentle in spite of all that the world has put him through, and yeah, prettier than any sunset the golden coast of California has ever produced, so why should Buck apologize for falling in love with the likes of that?
Thankfully, Bobby’s a better man than Buck’s ever deserved as a pseudo-father, and has gently but firmly put the kibosh on discussion of Hotshots at work. Still, that hasn’t stopped Hen and Chim and even Maddie from giving him shit in the group chat, but when they can’t see the way their jibes have him blushing, Buck’s fine with making witty comebacks. Even in spite of their teasing, he can’t help but feel a tiny thrill every time a bit of fan art crosses his timeline, with his favorite pieces making it into a password-locked folder buried six layers deep in his Files app.
+
Episode seven of the fifth season of Hotshots is the breaking point. It’s easier for Buck and Eddie, knowing what they’re getting into, as they’re thrown right back into the violence, with Blue and Ryan laying on the pavement as Ryan bleeds out and bullets ping off of the pavement and against the fire truck nearest them.
‘We gotta move, Ry!’ Blue cries out, desperately scrambling to his feet and trying to haul Ryan up with him. Ryan, for his part, just screams in pain. Buck, meanwhile, takes a shuddering breath remembering the very real scream of agony that Eddie let out when he was dragging him underneath the truck.
They manage to get Ryan into an ambulance that frantically hauls its way through the Los Angeles streets, and Blue is television-perfect teary eyed as he pleads for his friend to hold on, that they’re almost to the hospital. Ryan, meanwhile, is choking out Blue’s name over and over again, as if it’s the only word he knows. The words are different, the cadence wrong, but it still drags Buck back to that awful day, to hearing Eddie force out the words Are you hurt?
The ambulance gets Ryan to the hospital in the nick of time, and Blue is standing at the hospital doors, plastered in blood, watching helplessly as they take him into surgery, and then the show cuts to its first commercial break.
“Well,” Eddie’s voice is forced casual, “That sucked to witness.”
“Yeah,” he replies shakily. “Remind me to have Bobby send Brad a strongly-worded text for that bullshit.”
The other man shakes his head. “Nah, Hollywood’s always been exploitative. Yelling at that limey weirdo won’t do anything to change that.”
“It might make us feel better,” Buck suggests.
“Nah, but you know what would? Another beer,” Eddie declares, rising to get fresh bottle for them from the kitchen.
Throughout the rest of the episode, Blue is generally a menace to his coworkers, lashing out in his worry for Ryan and at the terror that the LAFD has found itself plunged into. Again, true to life for how Buck acted, but there’s nothing that reads like Brad copying and pasting from stories, so he chalks that one down to apparently being predictable enough for a room of writers over at the Universal lot to guess how the TV version of him would react to the attempted murder of the TV version of Eddie.
In the end, of course, it’s the valiant Captain Race Banner that foils the sniper alongside the noble officers of the LAPD, including a newly introduced hard-boiled detective by the name of Hestia Garner, who, despite being Asian rather than Black, takes an immediate shine to Banner that can only make her Brad’s version of Athena. That has Buck howling with laughter, just in time for his phone to buzz with a text from the woman of the hour herself.
AG-N: Not a damn word, Buckley.
EB: No idea what you’re talking about Athena!
AG-N: Sure. Just remember that Bobby fears my wrath more than your temper tantrums when he gives you latrine duty for the next month before you go cracking any jokes.
EB: 🫡
The episode comes to an end with Blue visiting Ryan in the hospital, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed as he delivers the news that the monster who put him there is dead. The two manfully embrace, and then Ryan pulls back, resting his hand on Blue’s shoulder, looking at him with shining eyes, and for the briefest moment, Buck thinks that they’re going to kiss. The moment passes, however, and Ryan speaks.
‘You saved my life, Blue. You didn’t hesitate to put yourself in the line of fire for me,’ he says.
Blue just smiles at him. ‘You’d have done the same for me, Ry.’
‘I didn’t think I was going to make it, and all I kept thinking was that I didn’t want you to have to watch me die. That you’ve suffered enough, and there I was, just adding to the pile.’
‘It wasn’t your fault. I know you’d never do something like that to me. It was the sniper’s fault, no one else’s,’ Blue insists.
Ryan nods, his face still pensive. ‘Even so, Blue, you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to feel your partner’s blood on skin, to have to hold my wounds to keep me from bleeding out. You’re so good, and yet all of this just keeps happening to you.’
‘Yeah, well,’ he chuckles ruefully, ‘I’m a big boy, Ryan. I’ve seen my share of stuff, it’s true, but it’s what makes me a better firefighter, a better man. That, and I’ve got you. As long as we have each other, there’s nothing the both of us can’t handle.’
Eddie gives a low whistle. “That Bryan hashtag is gonna be going bonkers tonight.”
Buck whips around to face him. “You’ve been paying attention to that?”
“Not like… religiously or anything,” he says, suddenly very stilted. “It just kinda comes up sometimes when I’m scrolling.”
“Same. How, uh, how do you feel about it?”
He looks at him, eyes swimming with questions, including the big one, the one that’s been hovering over their heads since long before this season of Hotshots started. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I mean, it is about us, or some version of us. I definitely have some opinions, I just wanna know yours. We never really talked about it.”
“People online do stuff like this for every show,” Eddie says, almost sounding convincingly blasé, “I mean, yeah, I guess I can kinda see how people might… draw conclusions when I see someone else doing what we’ve been doing.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“I can and have done a lot worse than you, Buck,” he replies.
Buck nods. “Same here. You’re a pretty marked improvement over… well, pretty much all of them.”
“Even the legendary Abby?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.
“I mean, she let me sit in her apartment for months thinking she was going to come back to me, so, like… yeah. At least you didn’t string me along about the possibility of coming back when I was living here.”
There’s a long moment where Eddie just looks at him, and when he speaks, it’s soft, quiet. Almost like a secret. “You didn’t have to move out, you know.”
“I kinda did, Eds. It’s a two bedroom, and as much as I enjoy your couch, I wasn’t going to make it a full time arrangement, and I certainly wasn’t going to force Christopher to bunk up with me,” Buck says, very purposefully glossing over the intention behind those words. He can’t risk it, not now.
Eddie forges on, though. “Who said anything about you bunking with Chris?”
“Eddie… I…”
“Every day I was in El Paso, every day that I didn’t have you waiting for me at work, it was hell. Seeing Chris was one of the only two good things I had there. You know what the other was?” Buck shakes his head, and he continues on. “When you’d FaceTime me. Yeah, I know you kinda crashed out when I was gone, but Buck, I was just as much a wreck. I just got better at hiding for Chris’ sake, and because if I let my parents smell even a hint of weakness, I knew they’d use it against me. So, yeah, being eight hundred miles from you was categorically the worst time in my life. Fucking Afghanistan sucked less than being trapped in Texas with my kid resenting my existence and you left behind with my ghost here.”
Buck feels tears starting to threaten his eyes. “Yeah… Abby stringing me along hurt a lot less than thinking you were probably never coming back.”
“Exactly. You and I have both been through the kinds of hell that a lot of people don’t come back from, and yet the lowest point for either of us was being apart. Even when I got Chris to come home with me, I still just… I couldn’t be happy there. Not without you. I’d have stayed, if that was what my son wanted, but it would’ve cost me my soul.”
“No, Eddie, you could never lose that,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re too damn good to ever give up your soul, too strong.”
Eddie grabs both of his hands, looking at him with eyes that implore him to understand. “Because you make me stronger, Buck. I couldn’t have made it a year here without your help, without everything you did for Chris, without the way you carved out my place with the 118, without… Buck, I’ve tasted life without you, and it was ash in my mouth. I never want that again. So, yes, I would’ve lost my soul if I stayed in Texas, because it’s always been right here, right next to yours.”
“Careful, Diaz, you’re starting to sound dangerously unplatonic right now,” Buck says, always one to break for humor rather than confront what’s in front of him. Cowardice, part of his mind calls it. Self-preservation, says another.
“Then let me make sure I’m sounding exactly like I mean to: I love you, Evan Buckley,” he declares.
There’s a moment where his words echo around Buck’s skull, loud as church bells and twice as lovely. There’s been a lot of defining moments in his life, some good, plenty bad, but this? This is the moment that irrevocably will define his existence. He takes note of a thousand little things, like the commercial on the television–an add for Honda’s newest electric vehicle–and the pounding of Eddie’s pulse, thrumming with such force that Buck can see it in his carotid artery, and then the buzzing in his head goes quiet.
“Oh, God, baby, me fuckin’ too,” he groans as he rushes forward, looping his arms around Eddie’s neck and burying his face in the crux of his shoulder, smelling his sandalwood cologne and feeling the warmth of him. “I love you so much it hurts, so much I can barely stand it. I’ve loved you since the day you brought Chris back to me after the tsunami.”
Eddie pulls back, shock and disbelief in his eyes. “That long, Buck?”
“I lost him, Eddie. I lost him, and you trusted me with him again,” he admits, choking up, “You trusted me with your little boy and didn’t think twice about it.”
“Our little boy,” he corrects him softly, “You’ve been his parent for years now. He’s ours.”
That’s the thing that makes Buck push forward and kiss him with everything he’s got, and dear God in heaven, it’s better than he ever allowed himself to imagine. Eddie breathes in deep through his nose, caught off-guard, but he’s quick to match Buck’s fire, letting his tongue slip deep inside the other man’s mouth and moaning, and doesn’t that have Buck getting harder in his pants with every passing moment?
They press closer, leaning further and further on the couch, right up until the moment that they lean just a little too far, and then they’re pitching off of the couch, landing in a tangled heap on the floor with a lot of noise.
“Dad, Buck? What was that?” Chris calls from his bedroom.
The two of them smile at each like maniacs, giggling helplessly, but Eddie manages to force out a response. “Nothing, buddy! We’re all good!”
“Yeah, we are,” Buck says, kissing Eddie once again, just because he can.
+
That Saturday, Bobby and Athena are hosting a barbecue to celebrate their new house finally being completed, and Athena is just grateful to finally be done with all the setup. The house is gorgeous, the backyard is Better Homes and Gardens picture perfect, and nearly everyone is already there, though her husband’s sort-of-son and his two Diazes are late, something about a quick errand to run first.
Athena has her back to the gate into the yard when they do arrive, which is why she doesn’t quite understand why all of the chatter has suddenly died down until she turns around to see Buck and Eddie standing there with Christopher in tow, nervous smiles on their faces and their hands… linked together. Realization dawns on her, and Athena feels her face go into a megawatt smile just as Chimney explodes with a cry of “Finally!”
Nearly everyone swarms the new arrivals, and Athena definitely notices the way that Hen is wiping tears out of her eyes when she thinks no one’s looking. “About damn time,” she declares, looking every inch like a proud mother.
Maddie, meanwhile, marches up to Eddie, all five-feet-two-inches over her and her great pregnant belly, just to throw her arms around his neck and drag him down into a tight embrace. “I’m so happy for you two,” she says, kissing him on the cheek before subjecting her brother to the same treatment.
“Well,” Bobby says with a twinkle in his eye as things begin to settle down, “I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve had relationship disclosure forms with your guys’ names already on them sitting in my desk for the better part of three years.”
“Aw, Cap, I knew you loved us!” Buck says, pulling him into a tight hug.
“I also love making you fill out paperwork, Buck.”
Hen groans. “Just don’t give him a clipboard, he’ll go mad with power again.”
“I dunno, babe,” Buck drawls, snaking an arm around Eddie’s waist, “Do you think I go mad with power?”
“Oh, absolutely. But, you make tyranny look hot, so you’re forgiven,” Eddie says with a grin.
Next to them, Christopher makes a gagging noise, only for Buck to muss his curls in response. “Deal with it, kiddo. Someday, you’re gonna be just as gross about someone as we are about each other.”
Everyone gradually returns to what they were doing before, and Athena slips inside the kitchen, staring fondly out into the backyard as she pulls out her phone and dials up a number she only has because Bobby gave it to her, with permission, of course. It only takes two rings for a posh British accent to answer on the other end of the line.
‘Sergeant Grant! To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from the legendary Mrs. Hollywood Bob?’
“Brad, great to hear from you. I’ll cut straight to the chase, I’m sure you’ve heard about what the fans are doing with your two newest additions to Hotshots?”
‘Viewership in the LGBT+ demo’s up forty-seven percent, online mentions have almost doubled, I am most definitely aware.’
She smiles to herself. “Well, have I got some news for you…”
Later, once the phone call is done, she spares one more glance out at the backyard, where Buck and Eddie taken up the swinging outdoor loveseat, with Eddie’s arm slung around Buck, who’s leaning into his side as he enthusiastically jabbers at Chim. Then, Athena opens up her Twitter.
Blue Starling’s Mom (@w1seg0ddess): Trust me, y’all: #bryancanon next season