Chapter Text
It’s so loud in this warehouse. It’s filled with men (some women, but mostly men) who are shouting, cheering, throwing money out for bets. Buck’s ears are ringing as he winds through the crowd, tugging his ball cap down more over his eyes. The sounds of body blows get louder as Buck approaches the tall chain link fence on the lower floor. Ringside.
Buck nudges past another man, finding position against the fence and looking out at the makeshift fighting ring. Two men are squaring up – one black man with pulled back locs in red shorts against a taller hispanic man with close cropped brown hair in white shorts.
“Lets go, red!” Buck jumps as a man beside him shouts, snapping his head to look at him.
“Fuck ‘im up, white!” shouts another.
At that, Buck turns back to the ring to see the man in white shorts throw punch after punch, ducking as the man in red swings back. It’s a fierce fight, both men landing shots that make Buck wince in sympathy. Red punches White in the ribs so hard White doubles over, and Buck’s chest tightens.
“Come on,” he whispers, threading his fingers into the chain link of the fence.
He leans so close to the fence, the brim of his hat bumps the metal. He quickly flips it backwards, pressing impossibly close to the fence to keep watching. White jumps and kicks off the wall, throwing a haymaker into the side of Red’s face, sending him to the ground as the crowd erupts. White throws his hands into the air in celebration, spinning slowly to enjoy the cheers.
That’s when Edmundo Diaz catches sight of his best friend staring at him through the fence in front of him. Buck’s eyes widen, knowing he’s been made, but he can’t look away. Neither can Eddie, who drops his arms to his side in shock. That proves a mistake. Neither man notices Red get up to his feet and drop his shoulder, barreling into Eddie’s stomach.
A chorus of oooh flies through the crowd and Buck’s heart goes into his throat as Red pushes Eddie back and immediately spins, the roundhouse kick hitting Eddie in the temple with a resounding crack. The roar of the crowd explodes around Buck, who fights every instinct to climb the fence when he watches Eddie crumple to the dirt.
“Eddie!” Buck screams, his voice drowned out in the din. “Eddie!!”
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“Something’s going on with Eddie…”
Buck stands in Chim and Maddie’s kitchen, washing up the dishes from their dinner. Maddie pours wine, handing a glass to Chimney then sliding a glass across the island for Buck to take when he’s done.
“I don’t know,” Chim says, sipping his wine. “He seems no more ornery than usual.”
“What do you mean, Buck?” Maddie asks, ignoring him.
Buck dries his hands on a dish towel, turning to pick up his wine. “He’s keeping things from me. He’s coming to work with bruises he says are from rough housing with Chris, but it looks more like someone beat him with a pipe.”
“What, were you playing with hammers?”
Eddie’s face gets hard and his eyes go cold. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”
Buck sighs at the memory and takes a sip. “Then the night at the rage room, he said he had plans, but he wouldn’t tell me where he was.”
“Do you think he needs to tell you every facet of his life?” Chim raises an eyebrow.
“I didn't say that,” Buck rolls his eyes. “But he usually does. I tell him everything about me. But since…” he trails off with a sigh. “He’s had such a shitty year. I know all of us have. But…I don’t know, I’m just worried about him.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“I’ve tried,” Buck sighs. “He just brushes me off. Or gets upset.”
“See? Normal ornery Eddie,” Chim quips.
“Chim, you’re not helping,” Maddie smiles fondly and pushes Chimney away from the island.
Buck is quiet a long moment. “I still haven’t quite figured out where I fit back into his life after the law–”
“Buck, stop,” Maddie says gently. “He’s still your best friend. If you’re worried, just talk to him.”
Buck sighs slowly and nods. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” His phone dings in his pocket and he pulls it out, his face breaking into a wide smile. “Chim, I may be a little late in the morning. I have to go to the print store in the morning. Cover for me?:
“It’s ready?” Chim grins.
Buck beams. “It’s ready.”
“What’s ready?” Maddie asks
“The best fifty bucks I’ve ever spent,” Buck replies, showing Maddie the picture Heidi Shatsky had sent him of a young Bobby Nash in a leotard and ice skates.
The next morning at the firehouse, Buck is pulling said ‘best fifty bucks ever spent’ from the back of his Jeep as a rumble of a vehicle approaching behind him, followed by a honking horn. He turns to see a large black pickup truck. The truck isn’t familiar. The driver is.
“Woo,” Buck whistles softly as Eddie climbs out of the cab. It’s a brand new, current model GMC. Extended cab. Expensive. “Nice truck. Is it a rental?”
“Nope,” Eddie smiles, arms spread wide. “All mine.”
Chim’s voice from last night echoes in Buck’s head. “Do you think he needs to run things past you before he does anything?”
“I– I didn’t know you were getting a new ride,” Buck says as Eddie opens the backseat door.
“Yeah, well, AC crapped out on the old one…again,” Eddie pulls out his work bag. “And Christopher and I were sitting in traffic – sweating in traffic. Saw this dealership. Thought, why not?”
“A total impulse buy,” he says, falling in step with Eddie as they head inside the firehouse. “Not like you at all.”
Buck has an instant flash memory of Eddie spending four straight days comparing models and specifications for the brand new microwave he had to buy last spring. And another two weeks he spent debating a new television at the start of the year. An impulsive man, Edmundo Diaz is not.
“Maybe it should be,” Eddie replies and that prickle at the back of Buck’s neck flares again. He wants to ask what’s going on with him. Where did this money come from? Why does he have bruises he thinks no one can see? But Buck deflects with humor, as always.
“Well, I’ll remind you of that next time you’re begging for extra shifts to cover the payments.”
After they go through their morning beginning-of-shift routine – with a side of jokes about Bobby’s David Bowie phase – Buck follows Eddie to the locker room to get into uniform.
“So Friday,” Buck starts, pulling on his LAFD t-shirt, “Chris is with Pepa, right? Wanna grab beer and karaoke? It won't be hard to get Chim and Albert to come out. Boys night."
“Uh, wish I could,” Eddie pulls his shirt on. “I got a thing.”
The prickle at the back of Buck’s neck ripples again. “A thing?”
“Yeah.”
“What…kind of thing?” Buck presses. “Is it a date? What’s her name?”
“Buck,” Eddie sighs, slamming his locker closed. “It’s nothing. Just something I’ve gotta do.” He sighs again, relaxing his shoulders and at least looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. I got a shift Saturday, but Sunday? Breakfast at mine after I pick up Christopher?”
Buck worries his bottom lip a moment but forces a smile. “Yeah, sure. Breakfast sounds great.”
“Great,” Eddie smiles, and it looks genuine. He claps a hand to Buck’s arm and walks past him, out of the locker room.
The prickle at the back of Buck’s neck slides down to a cold pit in Buck’s stomach. “Yeah,” he whispers into the empty room. “Great.”