Chapter Text
It was the smell that came first.
Hank Stanley's brow knitted together and he looked up. He gave the air a cautious sniff, the kind of sniff one gives when checking for a gas main leak. The office door he always made sure he left open for his men was inviting in something that smelled like…pickles? No. Onions? No. No. Fish?
"Someone call dispatch! Possible toxic spill on 51. Time out right now."
"Shut up, Chet!" John hollered out of from the kitchen.
Oh, that's right. It was John Gage's turn to make lunch. Hank's mouth twisted as he remembered Marco's chili over spaghetti from yesterday. It was surprisingly good. He should have put some aside for today. Gage was a good paramedic, one of the best and he trusted his life to that kid, but God, the guy was an awful cook.
Even Mike Stoker, usually more diplomatic out of all of them, was walking up and down between the squad and Big Red, waving a hand over his nose.
"Get Rampart on the biophone, Roy!"
"Come on! It tastes a lot better than it looks…or smells. It's an old family recipe!"
"Well, obviously! It looks it!" Chet shouted back.
There was a clang of pots doing something Hank really didn't want to know.
"Roy had this before!"
"I-I have?" The usually unflappable paramedic sounded…flapped.
"Yeah. When Joanne took the kids to visit their grandparents? You offered me a place to stay after my place got flooded. I made dinner. Remember?"
"…I thought that was uncooked meatloaf…I fed it to the dog…"
Hank screwed up his face.
"You guys are real pals, you know? Bunch of LA's bravest, scared of a little casserole! I bet Cap would try it!"
Hank blanched. Quietly he tiptoed over to his door and pulled it shut. Then he dropped down on his seat and grabbed the phone. He called the County Clerk's office. Now would be a good time to review the new hose procedures.
Footsteps, loud and eager, fast approached his door and out of the corner of his eye, Hank could see faces peering through the door's window. Hank cleared his throat, kept his eyes on the phone and made sure he frowned a lot into the phone. Hank made all the nods, did all the pen tapping until finally, the footsteps walked away. He could hear Kelly ribbing Gage. There was another clang and a scuffle Hank knew if he investigated he would be obliged to step out to stop.
Hank kept the door closed that day, grabbed a break and ate three chilidogs at Davey's.