Chapter Text
They're pulling back into the station after a house fire. Family was all safe and accounted for, even the pets, of which there were many. Gemma laughs as Silas re-enacts the way he held two less-than-happy cats under his coat. Sabrina drags a chair over the table to finish her now cold soup for lunch. Arthur is at her throat before she can even get one spoonful down. Roderick doesn't bother stopping by the common room, instead going immediately to the shower room. Gideon follows shortly after, back to his office to file the paperwork.
Of course, throughout all the commotion, John's eyes are only on Rose as she sits with Fred, massaging his shoulders sympathetically, reassuring him he will be back in action soon enough. She makes a joke that John misses, and Fred laughs boisterously.
He wonders, idly, if she ever knows when he's watching. Not that he's looking at her every waking minute. But specifically in these moments, in the times where she's focused on the others, making sure they're all attended to and don't feel left out. It's never ceased to amaze him how far her heart can reach, how much she has to go around. Without question.
As if she can hear his thoughts across the room and through his thick skull, she meets his eyes as she starts massaging Fred's shoulders. Fred relaxes against her touch with a dramatic sigh, and Rose raises her eyebrow, unimpressed. There's a sparkle to the way her eyes shift colour in the light. To John, it is an invitation home.
It takes a good hour before Rose's attention is redirected to a point where he feels safe to sneak out of the room. The others asked her to join in on a game of cards. She asked what game. Silas says whatever Gemma won't win at and whatever Arthur won't cheat at. She laughs, and beckons for John to join. He waves her away, happy to observe from the corner of the room, his back comfortably against the wall. It takes four rounds and a lot of shouting from Sabrina's corner of the table, but eventually John finds his opening.
His boots stomp against the concrete of the corridors as he realizes that he still hasn't showered, the smell of ash seeping into his skin. No different than any other day in his eyes. And not that Rose was one to complain, anyways.
He knocks on the open door to Gideon's office, peering in.
"Come on in," Gideon says, a weariness to his voice. It had been a long week of big calls and a couple of minor equipment malfunctions that weren't keeping jobs efficient. There were some big days in the garage ahead of them.
John quietly closes the door behind him. The blinds rattle and it makes John's heart beat a little harder in his chest. He takes the rightmost seat, slouching a bit to meet Gideon's eye level.
Gideon continues his paperwork, glasses he works so hard to prove to the crew he doesn't need perched on the edge of his nose. He checks boxes and makes jot notes here and there. Eventually he pauses, peering up at John. "What is it?" he asks.
John takes a steady breath.
"Well, c'mon son, I don't have all day," Gideon says lightheartedly, pressuring John to say what's on his mind.
"I'm gonna marry her," John says.
There's a heavy moment of silence, the kind that came before a bullet whizzing through the air or before an airstrike landed, before Gideon laughs, reaching up a hand to take off his glasses. "Not like we can all see it from a mile away," he chuckles.
John shakes his head slightly. "No, I mean it," he says, "I'm gonna marry her."
Gideon blinks, fiddling with the arms of his glasses. "Hell, it’s not my permission you should be looking for."
John shakes his head. The smile on his face isn't the cheery, light kind. It is one weighted with determination. "I need time off."
"John, I gave you time off - without even knowing where you were, mind you-"
"That was different," he challenges.
"Compared to what?"
"My things up north. My family's-" he cuts himself off. "The ring I need is up there."
"You sure you can't find something here in the city?"
"She deserves the best," John says.
Gideon sighs, thinking a moment. "Five days max," he concedes. "Day six and your position goes to Roderick. Permanently."
John gives a toothy grin in thanks. He stands and makes his way to the door, a lightness to his step that's been missing long before he was even fully grown. "You wouldn't stand one week with Roderick on permanent," he teases.
Gideon shakes his head, returning his glasses to his nose. "Get going, you," he says, dismissing John.
John can hear the shouts from the card game before he returns to the common room. As he walks in, Rose races behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Wha' did I miss?" he asks Rose.
Rose laughs, pressing her nose into the back of his shirt. "Arthur-" she starts, but can't continue.
"He had an entire deck up his-" Silas argues.
"They were the complete wrong colour," Sabrina wheezes, doubling over in laughter.
"You want me to admit I'm a cheater? Fine, it's done!" Arthur says. "But I'd much rather delegate my infidelity to a bleeding card game rather than a respectable lady!"
"You couldn't get a respectable lady if you tried!" Silas shouts back.
John feels himself be pulled put of the room, and he steps backwards, matching the light pull from Rose. Once he crosses the threshold, he turns to face her, taking her hands in his, not wanting to lose her touch.
"I've gotta run," she says, still laughing.
John frowns, looking down at his watch. Her shift at the dance centre. "See you at the flat?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
She nods, pulling her hands away from his. She reaches up and cups his cheek. Instinctively, he leans down so she can plant the feather of a kiss on his skin.
He pulls away, and it isn't the tongue-touched smile he's expecting. "Wha'?" he asks, reaching up for the spot where her lips touched.
"A bit smoky," she says, grabbing his hand to stop him from brushing away her kiss. "You're gonna rub it away," she teases, intertwining their hands.
"I'll be clean and showered when you're back," he promises. "We can try that Indian place that opened up two blocks down."
She nods, finally pulling away, her touch lingering for as long as possible. She turns away, heading off to that bright life of hers. He is heading back to the common room to break up the last of the fighting, but can't keep himself from looking back at her one last time.
When he does, he is met with Rose doing the exact same, her tongue-touched smile lighting up her face.
It's in that smile, John thinks, that he envisions the rest of his life.
*