Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The firehouse didn’t feel like home anymore.

It looked the same, smelled the same, soap, coffee, faint smoke baked into the walls, but the air was different. He was different.

Buck stood in the gear bay with a rag in one hand and a spray bottle in the other, polishing helmets that weren’t his. His reflection looked back at him from the curved surface, stretched and warped like a funhouse mirror. He didn’t recognize himself.

Once, he would’ve been with the others, suited up, crammed into the truck, rushing toward the kind of chaos that made him feel alive. Once, he would’ve been laughing with Chim or Hen, throwing out dumb jokes while Eddie shook his head, pretending not to laugh. Once, he would’ve belonged.

Now, he scrubbed.

“Chores again,” he muttered, his voice swallowed by the emptiness of the bay. “Living the dream.”

The others had gone out on a big call earlier, leaving him behind with a tight smile from Bobby and a quick, “Man behind, Buck.”

He hadn’t argued. Not anymore.

The rag squeaked against the plastic shield. He worked at a smudge that didn’t want to come off. He pressed harder, jaw clenched.

He leaned against the ladder truck, resting the helmet on the bumper. The smell of polish clung to his hands. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he let himself remember what it felt like. Racing into fire. Water roaring through hoses. The shout of Bobby’s orders cutting through smoke. The grounding weight of Eddie at his side.

The sound of laughter echoing in the cab as they headed back to the station, dirty and exhausted but alive.

Buck opened his eyes. He was still alone.

The click of a door startled him. He looked up quickly, heart skipping in his chest.

Bobby stepped into the bay, wiping his hands on a towel. His face was calm, unreadable as it always was lately.

“Buck,” he said.

“Yeah?” Buck straightened, rag still in his hand like a guilty kid caught messing up.

Bobby hesitated a second too long. “Quick thing. We’ve added something to the rule board. Just so you know, no glitter in the truck.”

Buck blinked. “…Glitter?”

Bobby gave a look that said don’t ask. “Trust me. You don’t want to know. Just don't step in the truck with glitter.” He nodded once and disappeared back inside.

Buck stood there, rag dangling, staring after him. “Glitter? Why would there be glitter in the truck?”

His words bounced off empty walls.

He shook his head and went back to scrubbing. His reflection stared at him from the helmet, tired and small.

Hours ticked by slow.

He swept the bay floor, refilled the coffee machine, sorted gear. He did all the things nobody else wanted to do, because it was all they’d let him do.

The clock hands crawled. He checked his phone once, twice, three times. No messages. Maddie had texted him the night before, a simple “Catch up soon,” but she was busy with Chimney now. He didn’t want to lean too hard on her. He didn’t want to feel like a burden.

The mop bucket sloshed as he pushed it across the floor. His shoulder ached. His leg still twinged sometimes, leftover pain that never seemed to fully fade.

The echo of laughter drifted faintly from upstairs. Hen’s laugh. Chim’s. Even Eddie’s, low and warm.

Buck pressed the mop harder into the tile, jaw tight. He told himself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t care.

But he did. God, he did.

They left for another call. He continued his chores.

The truck rolled back in, close to dinner. Sirens died, engine rumbling as it settled into the bay. Buck moved quickly, shoving the mop bucket aside, ready to help unload.

Hen hopped out first, peeling off gloves. Chim followed, cracking a joke that made her snort. Eddie climbed down last, steady as ever, a streak of soot across his cheek.

“Good job, everyone,” Bobby said, stepping down from the cab. “Let’s debrief upstairs.”

The others followed him, talking about the call, about how intense it had been, how close the fire came to spreading.

Buck hovered near the truck, helmet in hand. “Did everything go okay?” he asked, voice too bright, too hopeful.

Hen glanced at him, a polite smile, but didn’t answer. Chim kept walking. Eddie hesitated for half a second, then nodded once before heading after the others.

And just like that, Buck was alone again.

He swallowed hard and turned back to the truck. He picked up the rag, wiped down the already clean bumper. His chest felt heavy, too full, too tight.

He’d thought getting his job back would fix everything. He had fought for it, clawed his way back, through all the pain. He’d thought if he just came back, things would go back to the way they were.

But they hadn’t.

He was here. And he was still alone.

That night, the station was quiet. Buck sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee gone cold in front of him. The TV in the common room played low, muffled voices from some sitcom. The others were in the bunk room, asleep or not talking to him.

He spun the mug slowly between his hands, watching the swirl of old coffee.

His phone buzzed. He grabbed it fast, heart jumping Maddie? Eddie? Someone?

But it was a spam email. SkyMall.

20% OFF inflatable fountains shaped like animals!

He snorted softly, shaking his head. “Who buys this crap?” He deleted the email and pushed his phone aside.

The quiet pressed back in.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His chest ached with the kind of hollow loneliness that couldn’t be scrubbed away with chores. He wanted, no needed connection. A sign that he still mattered to someone. That he wasn’t invisible.

But the firehouse had made it clear, he didn’t belong. Not anymore.

He heard someone laugh.

Buck closed his eyes, and for a moment, he pretended it was for him.

Chapter Text

Cat Valentine sat cross legged on her bedroom floor, a half empty bag of Bibble spilling sugar crystals into the carpet. The TV was on in the corner, muted, playing a rerun of a talent show. She wasn’t watching it, though. She was singing softly to herself, stringing beads into what she insisted was going to be a 'bracelet necklace belt thing.'

Her grandma shuffled into the room, holding a mug of tea in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. “Cat,” she said softly.

Cat looked up, wide eyed, a blue bead between her teeth. “Hi Grandma! Do you like my bead creation? It’s multifunctional!”

Her grandma smiled faintly. “It’s very creative. But I need to talk to you about something important.”

Cat blinked. “Important like… taxes, or important like… don’t eat all your bibble in one sitting important?”

Her grandma sighed. “Closer to the tax kind, honey.”

She sat the papers down on Cat’s desk. “I’ve decided it’s time for me to move into the Sunrise Village Retirement Community.”

For a second, Cat just sat there, beads dangling from her fingers. Then her face crumpled.

“What?!” she squeaked. “No, you can’t! What about me? What if I starve? What if I forget how to microwave macaroni? What if I have to do laundry?!”

Her grandma chuckled softly, brushing Cat’s hair back from her face. “I'm getting old Cat, I need this, I can't look after you anymore, I'm not well enough.”

Cat gasped. “But, I'll take care of you, what am I supposed to do?”

She scrambled to her feet, clutching the bag of Bibble like a life raft. Her voice wobbled as she burst into song, twirling dramatically around the room:

“Goodbye couch, goodbye fridge, goodbye Bibble stash in the bridge,”

“Bridge?” Beck’s voice came from the doorway. He’d shown up without knocking, as usual, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Cat froze mid spin, blinking at him. “Snack bridge! Duh!”

Beck raised an eyebrow. “There’s no such thing as a snack bridge.”

Cat gasped. “Then what have I been eating out of all these years?!”

Tori appeared behind him, sighing as she leaned against the doorframe. “Cat, that’s just a drawer.”

“Oh.” Cat considered this seriously, then popped a handful of Bibble into her mouth. “Well, drawer bridge sounds boring.”

Her grandma shook her head, amused but tired. “Cat, honey. I’m not leaving you forever. I’ll be just ten minutes away. And you’re almost fifteen you’re practically a grown up.”

Cat’s lip trembled. “Practically isn’t actually! What if I need you to… to… to get spiders out of the bathtub?”

“You’ll figure it out,” her grandma said kindly.

“I can’t figure out spiders!” Cat wailed. She flopped onto the couch, face first into a mountain of stuffed animals. Her voice came out muffled. “They have so many legs, Grandma. So many.”

Tori walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Cat… she’s not abandoning you. Retirement homes are nice. They have bingo and everything.”

Cat lifted her head dramatically. “Bingo doesn’t cuddle me at night when I have scary dreams about marshmallows chasing me!”

Beck coughed to hide his laugh. “Marshmallows.”

Cat pointed a finger at him. “Laugh now, but when the Marshmallow Uprising happens, don’t come crying to me.”

Her grandma sighed and sat beside her. “Cat, I need to do this. I’m not as strong as I used to be. You deserve someone who can take care of you properly, I'll have Cindy next door check in daily..”

Cat’s eyes widened. “You’re not dying, are you?!”

“No! Of course not.”

“Oh.” Cat relaxed for a moment. Then frowned. “But… if you’re not dying, why are you going to a place full of old people?”

Her grandma chuckled. “Because I am old, honey.”

Cat gasped. “Don’t say that! You’re eternal. Like… like Bibble!”

“Bibble is just candy.”

Cat clutched the bag to her chest. “It is NOT!”

Tori rubbed Cat’s shoulder gently. “We’ll figure this out, Cat. You won’t be alone.”

Cat sniffled. “But who’s going to make sure I don’t eat all the Bibble at once? Who’s going to remind me that glitter doesn’t go in the microwave? Who’s going to…” She trailed off, panic flickering in her eyes. “Who’s going to love me enough to put up with all of this?”

Her grandma squeezed her hand. “Someone will, darling. Maybe someone you never expected.”

Cat tilted her head, considering. “Like… a clown?”

“Not a clown.”

“A magician?”

“No.”

“A pirate?”

Her grandma just sighed again, kissing her forehead. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

Cat rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. The Bibble bag rustled in her arms. She didn’t know what was scarier, the idea of living alone, or the idea of living without someone who thought she was worth her ditzyness.

She popped another handful of Bibble into her mouth and whispered, “What if I starve?”

Tori and Beck exchanged a look.

“You won’t, your grandma and all your friends live close. Cindy is next door. We will all be a call away.” Tori promised softly.

Cat didn’t believe her. Not yet.

Cat wasn’t supposed to be snooping.

She really wasn’t.

She had been helping her grandma pack boxes, well sort of helping. Mostly she was sitting cross legged in the hallway, singing to herself, eating Bibble, and occasionally tossing things into half open boxes like she was blessing them before they left.

Her grandma had sighed, “Cat, please, no more adding sparkles to the boxes. I don’t want the retirement home staff thinking I live with a unicorn.”

Cat had gasped. “But Grandma! Don’t you want them to think that? You’d be so popular!”

Her grandma had just muttered something about bingo nights and shuffled off with a stack of linens.

That was when Cat saw the envelope.

It was sitting on top of an old shoebox full of photographs, yellowed around the edges, tucked half under a blanket. In big letters it said IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS.

Cat, of course, read that as OPEN ME IMMEDIATELY, THIS IS A TREASURE MAP.

She tore it open with sticky Bibble fingers.

Inside were papers. Boring ones. A mortgage statement, an old hospital bill, something that looked like taxes (yuck). She was about to toss it all back when her eyes landed on one page.

Certificate of Birth.

Her own name, printed neatly at the top:

Catarina Valentine.

She squinted. “Oh my gosh, that's me!”

Her eyes darted down to the bottom. That’s when she froze.

Mother: Clarissa Valentine.

Father: Evan Buckley.

Cat’s mouth fell open.

“…What?”

She read it again, slower this time.

Father: Evan Buckley.

Cat blinked. Once. Twice. Then screamed so loudly that her grandma nearly dropped her tea in the kitchen.

“Cat!” her grandma called. “What’s wrong?!”

“Grandmaaaaaa!” Cat yelled back, waving the paper in the air as if it were on fire. “Why didn’t you tell me I had a dad?!”

Her grandma shuffled back into the hallway, looking both guilty and resigned. “Oh dear.”

Cat gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Is this… is this a typo? Is my dad actually named Seven Duckley or something?”

“No, Catarina. That’s his real name.”

Cat’s brain short circuited. “You mean… my dad..."

Her grandma pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought I told you when you were younger.”

“You told me he was gone!” Cat shouted. “I thought gone meant… gone, gone. Like… poof! Vanished!”

She flopped onto the floor, birth certificate crinkling in her hands. “Evan Buckley. Evan Buckley. Who is he? Where is he? Does he like Bibble? Does he know about me?!”

Her grandma crouched down beside her, voice gentle. “He doesn't know about you. Your mum and dad were young, very young. Pretty much your age now. She never told him, and once she turned eighteen she left. I kept track of him, I was going to tell him years ago, but I never did. He was a firefighter. Still is, last I checked.”

Cat froze mid panic. Her eyes went wide.

“A FIRE DAD?!” she shrieked. “I HAVE A FIRE DAD?!”

Glitter puffed out of her hair as she spun in a circle, shrieking again.

Her grandma winced. “Catarina,”

Cat didn’t hear her. She was already on her feet, saying. “I have a dad!”

Beck appeared in the doorway again, holding a can of soda. He looked at the scene, Cat twirling, grandma sighing and frowned.

“What’s happening now?”

Cat thrust the paper into his face. “I HAVE A DAD!”

Beck read the page, eyebrows lifting. “Huh. Evan Buckley. That’s… new.”

Cat grabbed his sleeve. “We have to find him, Beck! Right now!"

Beck: “…ummm"

Cat: “He’s a firefighter!"

“…Cat, think about this..”

“No!”

Tori arrived a second later, already looking exhausted. “Why are you screaming?”

“Because I have a dad, Tori!” Cat shouted, shaking the paper dramatically.

Tori took it, scanned the lines, and her mouth fell open. “…Oh my god. You’re serious.”

“I’m more than serious! I’m Bibble serious!” Cat announced. She stuffed a handful of candy into her mouth, then gasped so hard half of it fell onto the carpet. “He’s a firefighter, Tori. A hero.”

Beck raised a hand. “Or he could just be some guy with a hose.”

Cat clutched her pearls, well her bead creation. “Don’t you dare insult Fire Dad, Beck. Don’t you dare.”

Her grandma sighed again, muttering, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell her sooner.”

Cat flopped back onto the bed dramatically, arms spread wide. “My whole life has been a lie."

Tori sat beside her carefully. “Cat… if this is real, then maybe… maybe you could meet him. Wouldn’t that be good?”

Cat peeked at her through her hair. “What if he hates me?”

“He won’t hate you.”

“What if he hates Bibble?”

“…That might be more of a problem.”

Beck leaned against the doorframe. “So what’s the plan, Cat? You're just gonna run into a fire station and yell ‘Hey Dad!’ until someone answers?”

Cat sat up suddenly, eyes blazing with determination. “YES.”

Tori groaned. “Oh no.”

That night, as her grandma tucked herself into bed early, Cat laid awake staring at the birth certificate on her nightstand. The name glowed under her lamp: Evan Buckley.

She whispered it to herself like a secret.

Then she hugged her stuffed unicorn tight, candy dust still on her fingers, and whispered, “Don’t worry, Fire Dad. I’ll find you.”

The room sparkled faintly across the room, like the universe agreeing.

Hollywood Arts’ black box theater had seen a lot of weird things.

Student plays with experimental lighting. Sikowitz’s coconut juggling warm ups. Trina’s one woman show that had ended in a smoke alarm.

But even for this school, the sight of Cat Valentine standing on stage holding up her birth certificate like it was the Declaration of Independence was… a lot.

“I HAVE A DAD!” she declared, her voice echoing dramatically off the walls. 

The handful of students scattered in the audience barely reacted anymore. 

On stage, Tori groaned, trying to grab the paper before Cat creased it in half. “Cat, you don’t have to tell everyone.”

“Yes I do!” Cat spun. “This is history! This is,” she gasped “Herstory! My story!”

Jade leaned back in a folding chair, unimpressed, sipping from a soda. “Congratulations. You exist. Want a medal?”

Cat pouted. “You don’t get it. I thought I was dadless. Like… like an orphan princess. But it turns out I’m not an orphan princess, I’m a firefighter's daughter!” 

Beck, sitting cross legged on the floor, tilted his head. “Right...?”

“Not an orphan,” Cat said firmly.

Robbie, perched nervously beside him with Rex on his knee, squinted at the paper. “Evan… Buckley?”

Rex piped up immediately. “Sounds like a used car salesman. ‘Come on down to Buckley’s Auto Mart, where your money burns as fast as my ex wife’s temper.’”

“Rex!” Robbie hissed.

Cat clutched the paper to her chest. “Don’t make fun of my Fire Dad!”

Tori finally managed to grab the certificate before Cat bent it into an origami swan. She smoothed it carefully, scanning the lines.

“It’s real,” she admitted. “Evan Buckley. That’s definitely listed as your father.”

Cat gasped. “So he isn’t Seven Duckley!”

Everyone stared.

“What?” Cat asked. “That sounded like a real name!”

Trina barged in just then, carrying a stack of headshots of herself. “What’s all the noise? People are trying to rehearse my musical medley of Trina Vega: A Star Is Born.”

“No one is rehearsing that,” Jade muttered.

Cat shoved the paper at her. “I have a dad, he is a firefighter!”

Trina blinked, then looked down at the name. Her eyes widened, then she smirked. “Ooooh. A firefighter, huh? Is he single?”

Cat shrieked. “TRINA! That’s my DAD!”

Tori rubbed her temples. “Please stop flirting with her family members.”

“I’m not flirting,” Trina said defensively, fluffing her hair. “I’m just networking.”

Beck pulled out his phone and started typing. “Let’s see if we can find him.”

“Find him?” Robbie squeaked. “Like… stalk him? That seems… illegal.”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Oh please. It’s called Google, nerd.”

Tori leaned over Beck’s shoulder. “Evan Buckley, Los Angeles.”

Beck scrolled. “Hmm. Looks like he is a firefighter and with the LAFD. Station 118.”

Cat gasped so hard she nearly inhaled a sequin.

Robbie frowned nervously. “Wait. A firefighter? Isn’t that… dangerous? What if you meet him and he, like, dies."

Cat eyes him deadly. "Won't happen."

Tori grabbed Cat’s shoulders gently. “Okay, Cat, slow down. We don’t know what this means yet. You can’t just show up at a firehouse screaming ‘Hi Dad!’”

Cat gasped, scandalized. “Why not? That’s literally the perfect plan!”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s,”

“YES IT IS, TORI!”

Cat stomped her foot so hard like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Beck looked thoughtful. “What if Tori’s right, though? Maybe you should write him a letter first. Or send an email. Ease him into it.”

“No!” Cat shouted. “What if he doesn’t check his email? What if he thinks letters are boring? What if… what if he’s allergic to envelopes?!”

Jade blinked slowly. “Allergic. To envelopes.”

“Yes!” Cat cried. “Paper rash is a real thing, Jade!”

Beck whispered, “It’s not.”

Tori sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, Cat. If you really want to do this, then I’ll go with you. We’ll talk to him. Calmly. No screaming. No glitter. No Bibble.”

Cat gasped, horrified. “No Bibble?!”

“Yes, Cat. No Bibble.”

Cat clutched the bag to her chest protectively. “That’s child cruelty.”

“Cat.”

“…Fine.” She shoved a handful into her mouth anyway.

Trina flopped into a chair, fanning herself with her headshots. “So when you meet him, can I come? I should totally meet him. He’ll probably be impressed by my vocal range.”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Yeah, nothing says ‘bond with your long lost daughter’ like a friend of said daughter hitting on you.”

Trina flipped her hair. “Jealous.”

“Of what? Your lack of talent?”

“HEY!”

Cat spun in another circle, clutching the birth certificate dramatically. “It’s decided! I’m going to the firehouse. I’m going to find my Fire Dad. And I’m going to sing him a welcome song!”

“NO songs,” Tori said quickly.

Beck muttered under his breath, “This is going to be a disaster.”

Cat didn’t care. She bounced on her heels, her whole body buzzing with excitement.

Right now, she didn’t feel scared of being alone.

She had a plan. She had a dad.

And she was going to stay with him.

Chapter Text

The next afternoon, the Hollywood Arts outdoor patio looked like a crime scene made of poster markers, snack crumbs, and bad ideas.

Cat had dragged her entire friend group there, Tori, Andre, Beck, Jade, Robbie, and even Rex to plan what she called 'The Mission of My Life.'

A hand painted poster sat on the table, covered in stickers and sparkles.

Across it, in thick purple marker, were the words:

OPERATION FIRE DAD

Tori squinted at it. “Why does the ‘E’ in ‘Operation’ have googly eyes?”

Cat beamed. “Because it’s watching over us for good luck!”

Jade muttered, “That doesn’t make this any less stupid.”

Trina appeared out of nowhere. “Can we at least agree to film it? A surprise reunion video would do numbers online. I could make my account go viral."

“Trina!” Tori snapped.

“What? Emotional content sells!”

Cat slammed her bag of Bibble onto the table. “Okay! Step one, find Fire Dad!”

Beck scrolled on his phone. “Already did. LAFD Station 118, near downtown.”

Cat smiled and gasped like it was the first time she heard it. “That’s so close! We could literally walk there!”

Jade: “Or you could not ambush a working firefighter in the middle of his job.”

Cat pouts “But what if he dies before I get there?”

Robbie squeaked, “Why would you say that?!”

Cat’s eyes went wide. “You’re right! We cannot start a curse on him!”

Tori took the Bibble bag from her and set it firmly out of reach. “Slow down, Cat. We need to do this the right way.”

“What’s the right way?”

“You go in calmly. You introduce yourself. You show him the birth certificate. You talk.”

Cat blinked. “So… no singing?”

“No singing.”

“No confetti?”

“No.” Everyone said in unison.

“No glitter?”

“Absolutely no glitter.”

Cat crossed her arms. “Fine. But if he doesn’t recognize me because I’m not sparkling, that’s on you.”

Beck leaned forward, thoughtful. “Maybe bring something small, like a photo of you and your grandma. Something to show you’re telling the truth. He might recognise your grandma."

Cat rummaged in her purse and pulled out… a Polaroid of her cat wearing sunglasses. “This?”

“Not that.”

“It’s sentimental!”

“Maybe keep that as plan B.”

Trina leaned across the table. “What are you going to wear? You can’t just meet your long lost dad in any old outfit.”

Cat gasped. “You’re right. I’ll wear my pink glitter dress! The one that lights up when I spin!"

Jade groaned. “You’re going to blind the man.”

Cat ignored her, already pulling out her phone. “Okay, outfit, check. Certificate, check. Song,”

Tori: “NO.”

Cat: “Right, right. Maybe.”

Robbie raised a hand timidly. “Should we, uh, call ahead? Let the firehouse know a… minor with a candy addiction is coming?”

Tori sighed. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Cat pouted. “But that ruins the surprise!”

Jade smirked. “So does getting arrested for trespassing.”

Beck looked between them. “I’ll drive. Tori can come with us to make sure Cat doesn’t hyperventilate or spontaneously sing in traffic.”

“I don’t sing in traffic,” Cat protested. “I harmonize with car horns.”

Rex spoke“That explains the accidents.”

“Rex!” Robbie gasped, swatting him.

They argued for another fifteen minutes, Cat insisting on bringing her bibble, Trina trying to plan a wardrobe change for herself, Jade suggesting they just drop Cat off and drive away.

Finally, Tori stood up. “Enough. Here’s what’s going to happen! Tomorrow, Beck drives. I go with Cat. Everyone else stays here. We’ll handle it calmly. Don't scare the guy!”

Cat saluted her dramatically. “Aye aye, Captain Tori!”

Tori groaned. “Don’t call me that.”

When everyone else drifted off, Beck lingered, packing up his phone charger and empty soda can.

Cat stayed seated, staring at her poster. The excitement was still there, but now a tiny thread of fear crept through it.

Beck noticed. “You okay?”

She fiddled with a bead bracelet. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

Beck gave her a small smile. “Then he’s an idiot.”

Cat blinked at him. “You really think that?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Anyone who wouldn’t want you in their life clearly doesn’t know what they’re missing.”

Cat smiled back, small and wobbly. “Thanks, Beckett.”

“It’s Beck.”

“That’s what I said.”

Tori returned, car keys jingling. “Cat, come on. Let’s get you home before you glue yourself to something again.”

“I only did that twice!”

“Exactly.”

Cat grabbed her poster, her Bibble, and her enormous hope, tucking all three close to her heart.

Tomorrow, she’d meet the man behind the name on the paper. The man who, according to the universe was her dad.

And hopefully, if she was lucky, her Fire Dad would be just as bright as she always imagined. And he will want her.

Chapter Text

It was too quiet again.

The kind of quiet that made Buck feel like even the walls didn’t want to talk to him.

He pushed the mop across the tile, slow and steady, water sloshing in the bucket beside him.

The others were upstairs finishing the reports. Bobby had said they would 'call it a night soon,' but that usually meant another hour of avoiding Buck’s eyes.

He sighed and wrung out the mop. “Great,” he muttered. “Another exciting Friday night with my best friend, Mop Bucket.”

The bucket didn’t respond, which felt about right.

Hen’s laughter drifted faintly from the loft. Chimney joined in. Eddie said something low, calm, familiar, and the group laughed louder.

Buck stopped moving. The sound hit harder than he expected.

Once, he would have been up there with them, eating takeout, making stupid jokes until Bobby told them to quiet down.

Now, he wasn’t even sure if they remembered he was still here.

He bent down, picking up a stray glove from the floor.

At least the floors respected him. They never ignored him.

Bobby stepped nearby with a clipboard.

“Buck,” he said, voice neutral, “make sure the rigs are topped off before shift change.”

Buck nodded. “Got it.”

Bobby hesitated, then added, “And… new rule, no eating food that isn't labeled as 118 or your own. Apparently someone’s been stealing Hen’s pudding.”

Buck frowned. “Wasn’t me.”

“I know.” Bobby scribbled something and walked off.

Buck stood there, mop still in hand. “Great,” he mumbled. “I’ve officially been cleared of pudding theft. Big win.”

He finished cleaning the bay and sat down on the back bumper of the ladder truck, phone in hand.

No new messages.

He opened his email to distract himself.

A new message blinked at the top - 'Exclusive SkyMall Savings: 30% Off Decorative Garden Fountains!'

He almost laughed.

“Who buys this stuff for them to text and email?” he muttered.

He scrolled anyway, half amused, half lonely, until he saw the headline 'Firefighter Themed Lawn Gnomes.'

Buck snorted. “Yeah, that’s not depressing at all.”

He closed the email and set the phone aside.

The sound of the footsteps and whispers made him look up.

Late visitors were rare, especially at night.

Probably someone lost, he thought, or dropping off baked goods as a thanks.

He stood, brushing his hands on his pants, just as voices echoed down the hallway.

One voice was soft and steady.

The other was loud, musical, and chaotic.

“...I told you, Tori! You can’t just not sing when you’re nervous!”

“Cat, please don’t," 

“Too late! I already have the song in my heart!”

Buck blinked. “What the hell…”

Two girls appeared at the edge of the bay.

The first tall, brown hair, apologetic expression, looked like she regretted every choice that led her here.

The second bounced beside her, red hair, sparkly jacket, trailing glitter like a comet.

Buck froze mid step.

The redhead gasped, eyes wide, then lit up like Christmas morning. “OH MY GOSH. It’s him!”

Tori groaned softly. “Cat, please,”

Cat ignored her completely, sprinting across the floor and stopping right in front of Buck. She looked up at him like she was meeting a celebrity.

“Hi!” she chirped. “You’re my dad, I recognise you from online!”

Buck blinked once. Twice. “I’m… sorry?”

Tori rushed over, waving her hands. “Sorry! Sorry! She’s not, well, she is, but, we’re not crazy!”

Cat nodded seriously. “I might be a little crazy, but in a fun way!”

Buck stared between them. “Okay, uh… start from the beginning?”

Cat rummaged in her sparkly purse and pulled out a folded paper covered in glitter fingerprints. “Ta da!”

Buck took it carefully. It was a photocopy of a birth certificate.

His eyes moved over the words.

Father: Evan Buckley.

His stomach dropped.

He looked up. “This… this has to be a mistake.”

Cat shook her head so hard her earrings jingled. “Nope! Grandma said it’s true! You’re my Fire Dad!”

“Fire what?”

“Fire Dad! Because you fight fires, and you’re my dad!” She paused, then started humming. “Fire Dad, Fire Dad,"

Tori clamped a hand over her mouth. “Cat, not now.”

Buck just stood there, speechless, paper shaking slightly in his hands.

Finally, he managed, “Okay. Uh. I think we should sit down.”

“Yes!” Cat said brightly. “Can we sit in a fire truck? I promise not to touch any buttons!”

Tori whispered, “That’s a lie.”

Buck sighed, still half numb. “My shift ends in ten minutes. Maybe we can talk somewhere quieter.”

Cat gasped. “Like your house?!”

Tori: “Cat.”

Cat grinned. “What? It’s quieter there!”

Buck rubbed a hand over his face.

He had no idea what this was, but one look at the way the girl was bouncing on her heels, hope and nerves all tangled up and something in his chest cracked open.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Let me grab my stuff.”

Cat squealed, spinning once. “Yay! Field trip with Fire Dad!”

Tori muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” but she smiled a little anyway.

As Buck walked toward the lockers, Bobby’s voice echoed from upstairs.

“Buck? Everything all right down there?”

He looked back at the sparkly red haired teenager now inspecting the ladder truck and the tired brunette trying to stop her.

“Yeah,” he called back.

 He felt something other than emptiness.

“Yeah, Cap. I think it’s gonna be.”

Buck’s loft had never felt so small.

He’d cleaned that morning, well, 'cleaned' meaning he’d moved the laundry from the couch to the floor, but now, with two strangers standing in his living room, it looked like a crime scene of bachelorhood.

Tori took everything in quietly. Cat gasped at everything.

“Wow,” she breathed, spinning in a slow circle. “It’s so… bricky! Like a pizza restaurant that forgot the pizza!”

Buck blinked. “Uh… thanks?”

Cat pointed to his shelf. “You have plants! Are they alive or just pretending?”

“Alive,” he said automatically.

Tori mouthed a quick sorry behind Cat’s back.

Buck set the birth certificate carefully on the counter and poured water into three glasses because that seemed like the polite thing to do. His hands were still shaking a little.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Why don’t you start from the top?”

Cat plopped onto his couch and kicked off her colourful shoes. “Grandma’s moving into a retirement home, and I was helping her pack but not really helping, because packing is boring, and then I found an envelope and it said ‘Important Documents,’ and I thought maybe it was a treasure map, but it wasn’t, it was this, and ta da! you’re my dad!”

Tori added gently, “She, uh, wanted to make sure she wasn’t reading it wrong, so we looked you up.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “You found… my station.”

Cat nodded enthusiastically. “Station 118! I saw pictures online. You looked very heroic, even though you weren’t smiling. You should smile more! It makes your face look like a pancake!”

He blinked. “A… pancake?”

“You could be a happy one,” she clarified, patting his knee.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he did neither.

“I didn’t know you existed,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t know you existed either!” Cat said, like it was a fun coincidence instead of a life altering revelation. “But now we both exist, and that’s so exciting!”

Tori gave her a small look. “Cat.”

“What? It is exciting. I have a dad!"

Buck couldn’t help smiling, a small, helpless curl at the corner of his mouth. “You sound… really sure about this.”

“Yup.” She pulled a phone from her sparkly purse and waved a selfie of herself with an elderly woman. “Grandma confirmed it. She said you were very nice. And always willing to help."

Buck’s throat tightened. He recognised the grandma, the mom of his high school girlfriend Clarissa Valentine. He hadn't heard anything about her since they moved. He tried to do the math in his head, it was possible.

“So,” he managed, “your grandma’s moving out, and you, what? Live alone now? Where is your mom?"

Cat’s smile faltered for the first time. “Mom left me with grandma when I was a baby. And kind of, I have the house, grandma's house, she is keeping it, but I’m not really supposed to live there alone, because, you know, laws and stuff.” She brightened again instantly. “But I have friends! They bring snacks!”

Tori sighed. “Cat.”

“What? Snacks are emotional support.”

Buck’s chest squeezed. “You’ve been by yourself?”

She shrugged, fiddling with her bracelet. “Grandma calls every day, but it’s not the same. And Cindy comes over a lot. But it’s quiet. I don’t like quiet.” Then, softly: “It makes me think too much.”

Something in that hit him straight in the ribs. He knew that kind of quiet, the kind that crept into the cracks and whispered that no one needed you anymore.

He cleared his throat. “Look, Cat… I don’t know how this all happened, or why your mom never told me, but if this really is what it says,” he tapped the paper on the counter “...then I want to get to know you. Okay?”

Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Really.”

She gasped, clutching her heart. “You want to hang out with me?”

Buck chuckled. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t really know what being a dad looks like, but we can start with hanging out.”

“Can we go to the zoo? Or paint something? Or buy matching hats?”

“Maybe start with dinner.” 

Cat squealed and threw her arms around him before he could react. 

Tori muttered, “And so it begins.”

They ate take out noodles on his couch because it was the only thing open. Cat talked almost the whole time, about her school, her friends, a teacher who drank from coconuts, and a boy named Robbie who fainted a lot. Buck thought maybe there was a little crush going on there. 

Every now and then she would pause to feed him random trivia.

“Did you know Bibble isn’t sold in America anymore? Because of regulations. Isn’t that tragic?”

“Uh… sure.”

“Don’t worry, I have a secret supplier in Nevada.”

Tori looked horrified. “Cat, don’t tell people that.”

Buck laughed, an actual, full laugh and the sound startled him. It felt good. Strange, but good.

After dinner, Tori helped Cat gather her things. It was getting late, and Buck offered to drive them home. Cat refused.

“I want to ride in the fire truck!”

Buck smiled. “Maybe another time.”

When they reached the door, she turned back suddenly. “You’re not going to disappear, right?”

He blinked. “Disappear?”

“People do that sometimes,” she said softly. “They say nice things and then they disappear.”

He hesitated, then crouched a little so they were eye to eye. “I’m not going anywhere, Cat. Promise.”

Her face lit up again. “Okay!”

She hugged him one more time and skipped out the door.

When the door clicked shut, Buck stood in the middle of the loft for a long time, staring at the empty couch and the faint sparkle left on his shirt from Cat's jacket. He didn't like the idea of Cat going home alone, she was old enough to look after herself, but it didn't sit right with him. If the DNA results come back positive he knew he would want to change that. 

For months the place had felt like a punishment cell, quiet, colorless, cold.

Now there was glitter in his rug and noodles on his coffee table, and somehow it felt like the first real thing in a long time.

He smiled to himself, small but real.

“Fire Dad,” he muttered to himself.

Chapter Text

Buck woke to the sound of humming.

At first, he thought it was the pipes. Or maybe the radio left on low. But when he rolled over and opened his eyes, he saw the truth:

Cat was sitting cross legged on his bedroom floor, humming into a spoon and eating cereal straight from the box.

“Morning, Fire Dad!” she chirped.

Buck sat up too fast. “Cat? How, how are you here?”

She blinked. “Through the door.”

“You? What, what time is it?” Buck asked so confused. 

“Ten! I let myself in. Your door was unlocked! That’s unsafe, you know. What if burglars broke in and stole your spoons?” She waved the spoon around to prove her point. 

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “I don’t think burglars want my spoons.”

“They might,” she said seriously. “You have good spoons.” she paused. "It was scary in the house alone." 

That made Buck paused, he really doesn't want her to be alone in that place. 

Tori was at the counter, sipping coffee like someone barely clinging to sanity. “Don’t look at me,” she muttered. “She said she was coming here, and I figured it was better to supervise than let her walk across the city with a bag of candy.”

Cat raised her cereal box like a trophy. “It’s breakfast cereal, not candy!”

Buck squinted. “That’s marshmallow popcorn.”

Cat gasped. “You know cereal by its stage name?”

He stood, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “All right. You two sit down. Let’s… talk.”

They gathered around his table. The morning sun hit the brick walls, and for once the loft didn’t feel empty.

Cat leaned forward, chin propped in her hands. “So, what happens now? Do we, like, sign adoption papers or take a quiz or do a blood pact or something?”

Buck almost choked on his coffee. “No blood pacts.”

Tori smiled faintly. “I thought maybe… a DNA test? Just to be sure.”

Buck nodded. “That’s smart.”

Cat beamed. “Ooo, science! I love science. It’s like magic, but nerdy.”

He pulled out his phone. “I can call a clinic. They’ll do a swab test. It’s quick.”

Cat gasped. “Swabs! Like cotton candy on a stick!”

“Not quite,” he said, trying not to laugh. “But close.”

Tori leaned in. “We just want to be sure. Make sure it’s true,”

“It is true,” Cat interrupted, tapping her chest. “I can feel it in my heart. And my hair.”

Buck chuckled. “Your hair?”

“Yes! It’s intuition. My hair gets extra poofy when I’m right about something.”

Tori groaned. “That explains a lot.”

An hour later, they were sitting in the clinic waiting room.

Cat swung her legs back and forth, humming under her breath.

Buck filled out paperwork while trying to tune out the small glitter storm she was creating beside him.

“Reason for test?” the nurse asked.

Buck hesitated, glancing at Cat, who was currently balancing a magazine on her head.

He smiled a little. “Just… confirmation.”

The nurse gave him a knowing look.

The swab itself was over in minutes.

Cat winced dramatically. “It tickles! Is my DNA sparkly?”

The nurse blinked. “Uh… sure.”

When they left, Buck was still smiling.

“So what happens now?” Tori asked.

“They’ll call when the results are ready. A few days she said."

Cat gasped. “A few days?! That’s forever!”

Buck shrugged. “We will know soon.”

Cat tapped her chin. “Maybe I’ll bake Bibble muffins while we wait.”

“Please don’t,” Tori said instantly.

“Too late,” Cat sang.

Back at the loft, Cat wandered the space like it was a museum. She stopped in front of Buck’s bookshelf, pointing. “What’s this?”

“My photo album,” he said, setting down his keys.

She flipped it open. There were 118 photos, a picture of Maddie, a blurry beach shot.

Cat’s eyes lit up. “You were blonde even as a baby! I was blonde too, once! Then I met hair dye.”

Buck leaned against the counter, watching her flip through pages. “You, uh, really don’t stop talking, do you?”

She grinned. “Nope. Silence is suspicious.”

He chuckled. “You and my friend Chimney would get along.”

“Chimney? Like, a fireplace?”

“Exactly.”

“I love that.”

A knock interrupted them.

Buck opened the door to find a frail older woman with a warm smile.

“Mrs. Valentine?” he asked recognising her. She looked a lot older, but similar. 

She nodded. “I hope it’s all right I stopped by. Cat said she was coming here, and I wanted to see you myself.”

Cat squealed, running over. “Grandma! I told you he wouldn’t kidnap me!”

Tori groaned. “Oh my god, Cat.”

Buck led them inside. “It’s nice to see you again.”

She smiled kindly. “You look exactly like I remember. I’m sorry it took this long.”

He nodded, unsure what to say. There was so much he didn’t know, why Clarissa had left, why no one told him, but looking at Cat and the woman who raised her, he decided it didn’t matter right now.

Mrs. Valentine reached out, squeezing his hand. “You have always been a good man, Evan. Cat deserves that.”

Cat looked between them, eyes shiny. “So does Fire Dad get Grandma approval?”

Her grandma smiled. “He gets a cautious yes, let's just wait for the results.”

Cat clapped her hands. “Yay! Cautious yes!”

Later that afternoon, after Tori and Grandma left, Cat lingered by the door.

“So,” Buck asked, “what now?”

She looked up at him with that unstoppable grin. “Now we wait for the science people to say what my hair already knows.”

He laughed. “And in the meantime?”

“I’m gonna draw us as superheroes! Fire Dad and Glitter Girl!”

Buck smirked. “Sounds about right.”

She gave a mock salute. “See you soon, Fire Dad.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving a faint trail of bibble crumbs on the floor.

Buck stood there a long time.

For so long, his life had been reduced to cleaning duties and awkward silences.

Now, there was glitter in his rug, and a teenage girl out there who believed they were father and daughter, and he thought, that was enough to start feeling alive again. He just hoped and was praying to whoever, that she was his.

Chapter Text

Three days had never felt longer.

Buck checked his phone at least fifty times a day, and every time it buzzed, his stomach twisted.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted more, for the test to confirm what he already felt in his gut, or for everything to slow down long enough for him to catch his breath.

When the call finally came, he nearly dropped the phone.

“Mr. Buckley,” the nurse said cheerfully. “We have your DNA results ready.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“There’s a 99.99% probability that Cat Valentine is your biological daughter.”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The words echoed in his ears, soft and unreal.

“She really is my daughter?” he whispered.

“Yes, sir. Congratulations.”

Buck hung up and stood in the middle of his loft, phone still in hand. The silence around him spread through him. Then, slowly, a laugh slipped out, disbelieving, soft, full of something that felt like joy.

He didn’t know how long he stood there before realizing what he needed to do next.

He grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

Cat and Tori were outside a café nearby. Cat was painting a rock bright pink and gluing tiny rhinestones to it while Tori half watched her and half scrolled on her phone.

Buck spotted them from across the street.

Cat looked up and saw him, and her whole face lit up.

“FIRE DAD!” she shouted, waving her rhinestone-covered rock in the air.

Tori blinked. “Still calling you that, huh?”

He smiled. “Looks like it.”

Cat ran to meet him, glitter trailing behind her. “Did the science people call?! Tell me! Is your DNA sparkly like mine?!”

Buck laughed, kneeling down so they were eye to eye. “They called.”

“And?”

“It’s true,” he said softly. “You’re my kid, Cat.”

Her mouth fell open. For half a second, she just stood there, then she launched herself into his arms with enough force to nearly knock him backward.

“I KNEW IT!” she squealed. “I told you! My hair was poofed this morning, that’s how I knew!”

He laughed, hugging her tighter. “Guess your hair was right.”

They celebrated with milkshakes at the café.

Cat ordered the biggest one they had, extra whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and a lollipop sticking out of the top while Buck just stared at her in quiet awe.

Tori smiled from across the table. “You look like you can’t believe it.”

“I can’t,” Buck admitted. “But it feels good.”

Cat nodded seriously. “You’re stuck with me now, Fire Dad. No take backsies, no exchanges, and no receipts.”

He grinned. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” she said proudly, licking whipped cream from her straw. “Because I have big plans. Family game nights. Matching pajamas. Maybe a pet llama.”

She paused. “Oh! You can come to my performances!”

Tori muttered, “Start smaller.”

“Fine. A turtle.”

Buck tilted his head. “Performances?”

Cat smiled proudly. “Yep! We have talent!”

Buck looked confused, but Tori jumped in. “We go to Hollywood Arts, so expect concerts, shows, the works.” She smiled.

Buck nodded, impressed. He knew that school was tough to get into, you needed real talent. He couldn’t help but feel proud of his daughter.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said with a wide smile.

When the laughter settled, Buck leaned forward.

“Hey, Cat? Can I ask you something?”

She looked up, curious. “Yeah?”

“Now that it’s official,” he said gently, “maybe… we could actually live together. I know your grandma’s gone, and I don’t want you to be living alone.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean, you’d move in? With me?”

He nodded. “If you want that.”

Cat gasped so loudly half the café turned to stare. “YES! A thousand yesses! You’ll have your own room, and I’ll make you waffles, and I promise not to glitter bomb you… often!”

He laughed, eyes stinging. “That sounds perfect.”

Tori grinned. “Wow. You’re really doing this.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. She should have a parent. And I want to get to know her.”

They stopped by the retirement home that afternoon to tell Mrs. Valentine the news.

The older woman was sitting in the garden, knitting in the sun. When she saw Cat and Buck approaching, her face softened immediately.

Cat bounced in front of her. “Grandma! Science confirmed it! Fire Dad is really my Fire Dad!”

Mrs. Valentine smiled, setting her knitting aside. “I figured as much. The timelines added up, so did the birth certificate.”

Buck crouched beside her chair. “I wanted to talk to you. I know Cat’s been living alone since you moved here, and I was thinking… if it’s all right with you, maybe I could move in. Help out. Make sure she’s safe.”

The woman’s eyes glistened. “Buck, you don’t need my permission, you are her dad. But you have it anyway. You’re her father. You belong together.”

Cat clapped her hands. “See? Grandma said yes! You can have her room, or the couch, or we can make a bunk bed! Do you like bunk beds?”

Buck smiled, shaking his head. “Her old room’s perfect, thanks.”

Mrs. Valentine chuckled. “She’s a handful. But she’s got a good heart. So do you. The house is yours and Cat’s.”

He nodded, throat tight. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

That night, back at his loft, Buck stood in the middle of the room, looking around his soon to be old apartment.

His heart felt both heavy and light all at once.

This place had been his safe zone for so long, his shelter after the lawsuit, his island when the team turned their backs.

But now, it just felt empty.

The quiet wasn’t comforting anymore. It was just… quiet.

He looked down at his phone.

A message from Cat blinked on the screen:

Cat: Do you like pancakes? I have glitter syrup!

He laughed out loud, shaking his head.

Buck: I’ll bring some real syrup.

Cat: Boring! See you tomorrow, Fire Dad!

He smiled.

He’d fought to get his job back, fought to be accepted again by people who still didn’t see him.

And somehow, out of nowhere, he’d found someone who did.

Someone who wanted him.

He walked over to his laptop, opened his emails, and sent off his notice to his landlord.

As he hit send, the smile on his face grew wider.

He was starting a new life now, with his daughter.

Chapter Text

The sky was gold when Buck pulled up to Cat’s house.

His Jeep was loaded with boxes, mostly clothes, kitchen items, a few framed photos, toiletries, and other items people gifted him, like the handmade mug Chris had given him for his birthday labelled 'Bucky'.

He didn’t own much, but somehow it all felt like enough.

The bigger things he sold, gave away or left behind, as the landlord had mentioned the new tenants didn't have much, so he was happy to help them out.

When he climbed out of the truck, Cat burst through the front door wearing a sparkly dress and holding two party poppers.

“WELCOME HOME, FIRE DAD!”

She pulled both poppers at once, confetti rained down on the porch.

Buck laughed. “You didn’t have to,”

“Yes I did!” she said firmly. “New house, new fire Dad, new beginning, new confetti!”

He brushed a few paper stars off his shoulder. “You sure this much confetti is legal?”

“Nope!”

Tori stood behind her, holding a trash bag and looking exhausted already.

“She’s been decorating since six this morning. You have a ‘Welcome Fire Dad’ banner in the kitchen made entirely out of duct tape.”

Cat gasped. “It’s art!”

“It’s a fire hazard,” Tori muttered.

Buck smiled, stepping inside. “It’s… wow.”

The house looked like a glitter bomb had exploded in a cotton candy factory. Streamers, fairy lights, a sparkly 'Room for Rent: Just Kidding!' sign on one of the bedroom doors, he assumes will be his.

And on the counter a plate of cookies.

Pink cookies.

“I baked those!” Cat said proudly.

He picked one up carefully. “Are they supposed to sparkle?”

“Yes! They have edible glitter!”

Tori leaned close. “She says ‘edible,’ but no one knows for sure.”

Cat pouted. “They’re edible! Probably.”

They spent the afternoon unpacking.

Cat helped by opening every box and narrating the contents like she was hosting a game show.

“Box number one! A manly hoodie! Box number two! More shirts! Box number three! Oh look, tools ew, boring.”

Buck shook his head, laughing. “You’re a tough critic.”

“I just think you need more color in your wardrobe. You wear too many boring colours. You’re like a handsome storm cloud.”

He blinked. “That’s… the nicest weird thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Thank you!”

When they finished unpacking, Cat gave him a tour of the house, even though he’d already seen most of it.

“This is the kitchen! That’s where I burned popcorn last week. This is the couch! It used to be white but then I sat on it with wet paint. Oh, and this is the snack bridge!”

“The what?”

She pointed to a drawer under the counter filled entirely with snacks. “Snack bridge! Because it bridges the gap between meals.”

Buck laughed so hard he had to lean on the counter. “Snack bridge. Got it. I love that!"

Tori, from the doorway, muttered, “Don’t encourage her.”
“Too late,” Buck said, still grinning.

When Tori finally left for the evening, she stopped at the door. “Good luck,” she told Buck quietly. “She means well, I love her, but you’re gonna need a lot of patience. Be easy on her.”

He smiled. “I’ve got plenty, I'm don't get annoyed easily. If anything people say I talk too much.”

“Good,” she said. “You’ll fit right in.”

That night, Cat insisted they eat dinner 'family style.'

Which apparently meant pancakes. At 7 p.m.

“I wanted to make something special,” she said, setting down a plate stacked so high the top one was tilting dangerously. “So I made breakfast for dinner! I call it ‘brinner!’”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “You made these yourself?”

She nodded proudly.

He cut into one, it was slightly undercooked in the middle, slightly burnt on the edges, and covered in what looked suspiciously like edible glitter.

He took a bite anyway.

“It’s… crunchy,” he said carefully.

Cat’s eyes sparkled. “That’s the glitter!”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You know what? It’s perfect.” he paused with a smile "I'll teach you my recipe, if you want?"

She started smiling "YES! Firedad can teach me to cook!"

Buck smiled wide "Sounds like a plan to me." 

After dinner, they sat on the couch watching a movie.
Cat kept interrupting every five minutes to share fun facts, most of which were definitely not true.

Buck couldn't help but smile, he loves giving out random fun facts too, and even though her facts are incorrect, mostly, he felt a warmth in him, that she had the same interest as him.

“Did you know pancakes were invented by a lonely pirate?”

“I’m pretty sure they originated in the stone age, but I like the pirate idea better.” Buck smiled at her. 

Cat laughed “Right? Pirates are just cool!”

She eventually fell asleep halfway through, head resting against his arm.

Buck looked down at her, red hair spilling over the couch cushion, faint glitter dusting her cheek.

He hadn’t realized until that moment just how quiet his old life had been, not a peaceful quiet, but empty quiet, ever since the lawsuit.

But this was nice.

This was different.

This was noise and laughter and random songs about breakfast food.

This was life.

His life.

Later, after carrying her to bed and turning off the lights, he stepped out onto the porch.

The night was warm and still.

He could see his Jeep parked at the curb, half empty boxes still inside.

Tomorrow, he’d drive over to his loft, turn in the keys, and let it go for good.

It wasn’t scary.

It felt right.

He’d spent so long trying to find belonging in places that had stopped feeling like home.

And now, somehow, this bright, glittery house with a teenage chaos magnet was where he finally did.

From inside, he heard her muffled voice call out, half asleep, “Goodnight, Fire Dad!”

He smiled into the dark. “Goodnight, Cat.”

Chapter Text

Buck had fought apartment fires, car wrecks, and earthquakes, but nothing had prepared him for dinner with Grandma Valentine and Cat Valentine.

He’d been living with Cat for almost a week now, and in that time he’d learned four very important things:

1. Glitter multiplies when exposed to air.

2. Bibble is not a food group, no matter how many times Cat says it is.

3. Silence does not exist within a five mile radius of Cat Valentine. She sings a lot, and cannot stay quiet. 

4. He already loves his daughter so much. 

“Fire Dad, you look nervous!” Cat said, twirling in front of him as he adjusted his shirt in the mirror. “Don’t be nervous! Grandma loves you! She already told me she thinks you’re ‘refreshingly polite.’”

Buck smiled. “That’s good, right?”

“Totally! Her last compliment for someone was when she called her neighbor’s dog ‘less annoying than usual.’ So that’s high praise!”

“...Okay. Good to know.”

Cat gasped dramatically. “Wait! You can’t wear that shirt.”

“Why?”

“It’s too gray! You’ll blend into the mashed potatoes!”

He stared. “The mashed potatoes?”

She nodded sagely. “Grandma makes a lot of them. You need contrast. Something poppy!”

“Cat,”

“I’ll get my pink scarf!”

He sighed. “Cat, no scarf. I will wear my pink cardigan.”

Cat smiled "Yay! Pink!"

Twenty minutes later, they were in Buck’s jeep on the way to Grandma’s retirement community.

Cat had compromised by letting him wear his pink cardigan though she made him promise to 'think extra pink in spirit.'

She was bouncing in her seat the whole drive. “I’m so excited! Grandma’s making her famous dinner rolls! They’re so soft they could double as pillows!”

“Is that safe?”

“Probably not! But delicious!”

He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “You really love her, huh?”

Cat grinned. “She raised me! And taught me how to make glitter glue from scratch. And how to hide from solicitors by pretending to be a lamp.”

Buck blinked. “...Pretending to be a lamp?”

“She says it works every time.”

He shook his head, laughing softly. “You and your grandma are definitely related.”

When they arrived, Mrs. Valentine was waiting at the door, smiling warmly.

“Evan! Cat!” she said, opening her arms. “Come in, come in!”

Cat dashed forward to hug her. “Grandma, I missed you! Did you miss me? I brought Fire Dad! He was going to wear gray but I told him, he would match the mashed potatoes, and that was dangerous!”

Mrs. Valentine chuckled. “Yes, I heard you on the phone this morning. You might consider taking smaller breaths between topics, dear.”

Cat beamed. “Never!”

Buck laughed as they stepped inside. The apartment smelled like roasted chicken and garlic real, comforting, home smells.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Grandma said. “Sit, sit.”

The table was set beautifully, complete with real candles and floral napkins.

Cat immediately started folding her napkin into random shapes.

“Look, Fire Dad! It’s a swan! Now it’s a turtle! Now it’s… a blob!”

Buck smiled. “Impressive progression.”

Grandma shot him a kind smile. “She’s been like this since she was five. Always moving, always talking. You’ll never have a dull day.”

He chuckled. “I’m already seeing that, it's fine." 

Dinner started quietly enough chicken, potatoes (which, thankfully, he didn’t blend into), and salad.

But quiet lasted about four minutes.

Cat began retelling the story of how she and Tori first showed up at the firehouse.

“And then Tori was like, ‘Cat, you can’t just walk into a fire station!’ and I said, ‘But he’s my dad!’ and then Buck looked at me all confused like,”

She mimicked his shocked face so perfectly that Grandma nearly spit out her water laughing.

Buck buried his face in his napkin. “Please don’t encourage her.”

Grandma was still laughing. “Oh, I like her version of events. You should’ve seen your face, Evan!”

“Unfortunately, everyone has, she has been telling me she used it as an example in her acting class.” he muttered.

After dinner, they moved to the living room for tea.

Cat sat cross legged on the rug, talking to both of them at once and also to the goldfish in the tank.

“Grandma, guess what! Fire Dad makes the best pancakes! He is teaching me!They’re like regular pancakes but with… feelings!”

Buck laughed. “Feelings?”

“Yeah! You can taste the effort and the existential dread.”

Grandma chuckled. “You two are quite the pair.”

Buck nodded softly. “She’s… definitely changed my life.”

Cat gasped, eyes shining. “Really?”

He smiled at her. “Yeah. Really.”

Grandma reached over, touching his hand. “You’ve given her stability already, Evan. That’s all she’s ever needed. She’s always been full of light, she just needed someone who wouldn’t dim it.”

Cat blinked, emotional. “That’s so poetic! We should put that on a mug!”

Buck laughed. “You probably will.”

“Maybe matching ones! Yours can say Don’t Dim the Light and mine can say Full of Sparkle!”

“Deal,” he said, grinning.

When they finally left, Cat insisted on hugging Grandma three times.

“Love you, Grandma! Don’t forget to water your fish! And don’t pretend to be a lamp too long, you’ll miss bingo!”

“Goodnight, dear,” Grandma said, smiling. “And Evan thank you. For being here.”

“Of course,” he said sincerely. “Thank you for trusting me with her.”

She smiled. “Oh, she’s trusting you too. That’s rarer than gold.”

In the truck on the way home, Cat yawned, leaning against the window.

“That was nice,” she murmured sleepily. “Grandma likes you.”

“I like her too,” he said.

“She said you’re ‘refreshingly polite.’”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“See? You’re doing great, Fire Dad.”

He smiled softly. “Thanks, Cat.”

“Do you think Grandma’s goldfish likes us too?”

“I’m pretty sure he does.”

“Good. I don’t trust a fish with secrets.”

He laughed all the way home.

Later that night, after Cat went to bed, Buck stood in the doorway of her room for a moment, just watching her sleep, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders, the faint glitter still clinging to her hair.

He whispered, “Thanks, for finding me,” and turned off the light.

Chapter Text

If Buck had known Hollywood Arts High School was less of a school and more of a musical fever dream, he might have brought backup.

Specifically, an entire fire crew and a containment plan.

He knew that Hollywood Arts High was for talented students, focused on a career in the arts. But this, this was more than he had imagined.

The second he and Cat walked through the front gate for open parents night, he was hit with bright lights, loud music, and a student dressed as a giant lemon reciting Shakespeare.

“This is normal,” Cat said cheerfully.

Buck blinked. “For who?”

“For us!” She waved toward a group of students dancing on the steps. “That’s the advanced improv class. They’ve been pretending to be fruit all week.”

He stared. “Why?”

Cat jazz handed. “Because art.”

They stepped into the main foyer, or what Buck assumed was the foyer. It was hard to tell with the disco lights flashing and someone beatboxing in the corner.

Cat grabbed his hand. “Come on! You have to meet Mr. Sikowitz!”

“Who?”

“My drama teacher! He’s like a coconut milk wrapped in wisdom!”

“That sentence scares me.”

“Good! You’re ready!”

Before he could protest, Cat had dragged him into a classroom that looked more like a jungle. There were vines, props, a ladder, and a hammock in the corner.

A man in a Hawaiian shirt was hanging upside down from the ceiling beam.

“Ah!” he said dramatically, noticing them. “Cat! And… mysterious stranger!”

“Hi, Mr. Sikowitz!” Cat beamed. “This is my dad!”

The man dropped from the beam, landing gracefully. “Your father? The firefighter?”

Buck blinked. “Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

Mr. Sikowitz clapped. “Fascinating! Tell me, how does one battle both flame and fear?”

“Mostly with water and therapy.”

Mr. Sikowitz gasped, delighted. “Poetry!”

Cat whispered proudly, “See? I told you he’s wise.”

Tori, Beck, and Jade appeared at the door just in time to hear that.

“Hey, Fire Dad!” Tori said, waving.

Buck smiled. “Hey, Tori.”

Jade smirked. “So it’s true. You actually moved in with her.”

“Yup,” Buck said, smiling. “Officially.”

Jade crossed her arms. “Voluntarily?”

He laughed. “Yes, voluntarily.”

Jade watched him, "interesting."

Cat gasped. “You make it sound like I’m a gremlin!”

Beck grinned. “You kind of are.”

Cat pouted. “I’m an adorable gremlin.”

“True,” Buck said.

Mr. Sikowitz clapped his hands loudly. “All right, children! And the adult! Scene time! Let’s explore emotion!”

Cat squealed. “Ooo! Can we do the crying scene?”

Tori groaned. “Not the crying scene.”

“Yes, the crying scene!” Cat pointed at Buck. “Fire Dad, you’ll play The Supportive Father Figure!”

Buck blinked. “Uh,”

“Action!” Sikowitz shouted.

Cat dramatically dropped to her knees. “Father, I failed...my only dream!”

Buck, trying not to laugh, knelt beside her. “Uh… it’s okay, honey. Everyone fails sometimes.”

She threw her arms around him. “But my dream was to become a human rainbow!”

He chuckled. “You already are.”

Sikowitz gasped. “Beautiful! Real! Honest! I smell truth!”

Jade muttered, “Pretty sure that’s the coconut milk again.”

Half an hour later, Buck had survived three improv scenes, one fake fainting exercise, and a monologue about paint fumes.

Cat was glowing.

“You were amazing!” she said as they walked toward the snack table. “You have natural stage presence!”

“Pretty sure I just panicked with dignity.”

“Same thing!”

He smiled. “You’re really good up there, you know. You belong here.”

Cat blushed. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

She grinned. “Then I’ll dedicate my next song to you!”

He froze. “Wait! What song?”

Before he could ask, Cat bounded onto the small stage at the front of the auditorium where students were performing for parents.

She grabbed the mic and whispered to the tech guy, “Cue track three!”

Buck turned to Tori. “Should I be worried?”

Tori sighed. “Always.”

The music started upbeat, sparkly pop with way too much energy for a Thursday night.

Cat began singing a completely improvised song titled 'Fire Dad (My Hero with Pancakes).'

It went something like,

“Fire Dad, you saved my life,

From loneliness and burnt eggs twice,

You make me feel like family’s true,

And also, you look great in blue!”

The crowd clapped along.

Buck covered his face with one hand, laughing helplessly.

Jade muttered, “If I ever do that, please throw something at me.”

By the end of the song, Cat took a dramatic bow, pointing toward Buck. “That’s my dad! Evan ‘Fire Dad’ Buckley!”

The audience mostly parents applauded.

But the applause was interrupted by a very familiar voice near the back.

“Buck?” a voice came through, stunned.

He smiled awkwardly. “Arh...hey, Hen.”

“What are you doing here?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… parents open night.”

She blinked. “You have a kid here?”

Before he could answer, a familiar voice called out behind him.

“Fire Dad! They said someone got hurt doing a dramatic monologue about betrayal!”

Hen’s eyebrows shot up. “Fire what now?”

Cat jogged over, pink glitter dusting her hair, carrying a small ice pack. “I helped them! They were pretending to faint, but then they really fainted. Method acting is dangerous.”

Hen blinked between them. “Fire Dad?”

Cat beamed. “Yup! That’s my Fire Dad! He fights fires and he’s my dad!”

Buck gave a tiny, sheepish shrug. “Surprise.”

Hen’s mouth fell open. “Wait… you have a daughter?”

He smiled softly at Cat. “Hen, this is Cat, my daughter.”

Hen stared, trying to process. “How?When?”

“It’s a long story,” Buck said quietly. “One I didn’t think I’d ever be telling you.”

Cat tilted her head. “You two know each other?”

Hen hesitated. “Yeah. We… work together.”

Cat frowned. “Then why are you being mean to my Fire Dad?”

Buck’s eyes widened. “Cat,”

“What? You said your work colleagues were your family, but aren't anymore.”

Hen blinked, guilt flickering across her face. “I… I guess I deserve that.”

Cat crossed her arms. “You made him sad. He told me.”

Hen’s shoulders dropped. “You’re right, I did.”

Buck sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, Hen… could we maybe keep this quiet? Just for a bit? The team… they’re not exactly thrilled to have me back. I don’t want to give them another reason to look at me differently.”

Hen looked at him, really looked and for the first time in months, she saw how tired he was. How small his smile had become.

“Buck,” she said softly, “the team doesn’t hate you.”

He gave a short, bitter laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Her heart twisted. “I’m sorry. For how we treated you. I think we all just… handled it wrong.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I screwed up, but I don't deserve to be treated like this.”

There wasn’t anger in his tone, just hurt. The kind that went deep and quiet.

Cat looked between them, brow furrowed. “So… are we good now?”

Hen smiled a little, crouching to meet her eyes. “Yeah, kiddo. We’re good.”

“Then say sorry, like you actually mean it, with a hug.” she stated firmly.

Hen blinked. “Excuse me?”

Cat folded her arms. “My grandma says saying sorry, and hugs are how you fix heart bruises.”

Buck snorted softly.

Hen chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re something else.”

She looked at Buck, sincere. “I’m sorry, Buck. For real. I'll do anything to fix this.” She hesitated, but leaned in giving him a hug, Buck returns the hug. 

He nodded. “Start by keeping my secret.”

Hen smiled gently. “You got it.”

As B-Shift wrapped up the minor call and her crew packed up, Hen lingered for a moment by the engine door.

Cat was skipping in a circle nearby, humming her “Fire Dad” song under her breath.

Hen called out, “Hey, Buck?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

She gave him a small smile. “You’re gonna be a great dad.”

Buck’s chest tightened. “Thanks, Hen.”

She nodded. “And… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow.”

When the engine pulled away, Cat slipped her hand into his.

“She’s nice,” she said. “A little guilt flavored, but nice.”

Buck laughed quietly. “Yeah. That’s Hen.”

Cat looked up at him. “Does this mean you’re not sad about them anymore?”

He smiled down at her, eyes soft. “Getting there, kiddo...at least with Hen."

Chapter Text

Hen couldn’t stop thinking about Buck.

Not the lawsuit. Not the gossip. Just him.

The way he’d smiled at her the night before small, tired, polite.

The way his voice had cracked when he said, “Could’ve fooled me.”

It had been a while since she’d seen that much hurt on his face, and she hated that she and the rest of the team had been the ones who put it there.

When she walked into the 118 the next morning, everything looked normal.

Bobby was at the table scribbling rotations, Chim was stirring his oatmeal, and Eddie sat at the table with a coffee, eyes half awake.

Normal.

Too normal.

The kind of normal that only exists when everyone’s pretending nothing’s wrong.

Hen sat down her bag and poured herself coffee. She stood there for a second, watching the three of them talk about their lives like nothing had happened, like Buck hadn’t spent months on the outside looking in.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can I ask you guys something?” she said, voice sharper than intended.

Chim looked up mid bite. “Uh oh. That’s Hen’s ‘we’re in trouble’ tone.”

Bobby smiled faintly. “What’s on your mind?”

Hen crossed her arms. “Buck.”

That one word was enough to drain the air out of the room.

Eddie’s coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth. Chim’s spoon clattered against the bowl. Bobby’s marker stopped moving.

“Buck?” Bobby repeated carefully.

Hen nodded. “Yeah. Buck. Remember him? Our friend? Teammate? The guy who’s been walking on eggshells for months?”

Chim groaned. “Hen, come on. We’ve been through this. He,”

“He what?” Hen interrupted. “Made a mistake? Tried to fix it the wrong way? Fine. But we’ve all made mistakes. We didn’t exile anyone else for it.”

Eddie frowned. “No one exiled him.”

“Did we invite him to lunch last week?” she shot back. “Or the week before? Do we even talk to him unless it’s work related?”

No one answered.

Hen slammed her coffee cup down lightly on the counter. “Exactly.”

Bobby sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Hen, it’s not that simple. You know how much damage,”

“I know,” she said quietly. “Believe me, I know. But he’s paid for it. He’s been paying for it every single day he walks through those doors and gets treated like a stranger.”

Her voice softened. “He doesn’t need punishment, Cap. He needs his family back.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “You talked to him, didn’t you?”

Hen hesitated. “Yeah. I did.”

“And?”

She thought about Buck’s tired smile, his quiet voice, and the way he’d asked her to keep his secret, his only secret.

She chose her words carefully. “He’s… trying, Eddie. He’s still trying. Even after everything.”

Chim stared down at his oatmeal. “He doesn’t act like it.”

“Maybe because every time he tries, we shut him out,” Hen said. “He’s not going to keep banging on a door that never opens.”

Bobby leaned back, thoughtful. “So what do you suggest?”

Hen looked around at them, the people she loved, the family that had somehow forgotten one of their own.

“I suggest we start acting like the 118 again,” she said firmly. “No speeches, no guilt trips. Just… start talking to him. Have lunch with him. Ask how he’s doing. And maybe, when the time feels right tell him we’re sorry, sorry for treating him shit, like he doesn't matter.”

Chim blinked. “All of us?”

Hen smiled faintly. “Especially you, Chim.”

He groaned. “Yeah, yeah.”

Eddie was still quiet. He always got that way when he was thinking too hard.

Finally, he said softly, “We have been treating him badly, maybe it too late...Do you think he will forgive us?"

Hen met his eyes. “He already wants to. He just needs to know it’s safe too. That we are truly sorry. Enough, is enough. I want my Buckaroo back.”

Bobby nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

Chim glanced between them. “So what, we just… start being nice again?”

“Crazy idea, right?” Hen said with a small grin.

Bobby smiled, faint but real. “Okay. Let’s do better.”

The tension in the room finally eased. Bobby went back to the rotation planning, and mumbled something about making lunch for the whole team tomorrow, including Buck, Chim said something about not knowing what to say and Eddie just sat there for a moment, deep in thought.

Hen watched him.

She knew that when it came to Buck, Eddie felt things deeper than he ever said out loud. Maybe this was what he needed, a push.

Later, as she headed toward the ambulance bay, Hen took a deep breath.

She’d kept her promise. She hadn’t told them about Cat. That was Buck’s story to tell, in his own time.

But maybe, she’d done something even more important. Maybe she’d reopened the door for him, and they can all treat him better, like how he deserves. 

Chapter Text

The smell hit him before he even reached the kitchen.

Warm. Buttery. Comforting.

Bobby's famous mac and cheese, the one he only made when he wanted to bring people together or heal something that had been broken.

Buck paused at the top of the stairs, backpack still slung over his shoulder, his lunch in hand. He’d planned on eating alone, up on the roof where no one would notice.

But the smell followed him like a memory.

He hesitated at the top of the stairs.

Hen spotted him first. “Hey, Buck.”

He gave her a small, polite smile. “Hey.”

Bobby looked up from the stove. “Perfect timing. Lunch is ready.”

Buck shifted awkwardly. “I, uh, brought my own.”

“Put it away,” Bobby said, tone gentle but firm. “Eat with us.”

Buck froze.

He wasn’t sure if it was an order or an invitation, and somehow that made it harder.

“I don’t want to intrude,” he said finally, quietly.

“You’re not intruding,” Bobby replied without missing a beat. “You’re part of this team, family. Sit down.”

Hen gave him an encouraging nod, and even Chim awkward, fidgeting, trying too hard Chim waved him over.

“C’mon, Buck. Bobby’s mac and cheese is legendary. We’re talking about holy level comfort food.”

Eddie added, “Yeah. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Buck hesitated, eyes flicking to the dish on the counter.

He remembered the last time Bobby made that meal, weeks before the firetruck bombing, after a tough rescue that had left everyone bruised and quiet. They laughed, cried, and shared something, it felt like family.

It had been before the silence.

He took a breath. “Alright.”

He put his lunch in the fridge, and sat at the table.

They started eating. At first, it was quiet forks clinking, spoons scraping plates, the occasional cough or sip of water.

It was almost painfully awkward.

Chim broke the silence first. “Okay, so… this is weird, right? Like, good weird, not bad weird.”

Hen gave him a look. “Maybe stop talking.”

Chim raised his fork. “Just saying. Feels like a silent group therapy lunch.”

Buck smiled faintly. “You’re not wrong.”

Bobby looked up, and the teasing faded. His voice was calm, careful. “That’s kind of the point.”

Eddie set his fork down. “Buck… we’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Buck blinked, unsure where this was going.

Chim cleared his throat. “Yeah. Uh. We screwed up.”

Hen stayed quiet, watching.

Bobby folded his hands. “We’ve all been carrying this thing since the lawsuit. It hurt everyone, but we made it worse by taking it out on you.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “We shouldn’t have treated you like you didn’t belong here, when you came back.”

Buck stared down at his plate, the words sitting heavy in the air.

Chim sighed. “We were jerks, man. I said stuff I didn’t mean. Stuff that kept you away. Silenced you, it was wrong. I'm really sorry.”

Eddie looks at his hands "And what I said at the store, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it I was angry, and took it out on you, and then I was cold with you here...and Chris...I'm a jerk."

Bobby coughed, "I kept you away, and then when you came back treated you so poorly. I'm truly sorry, I was trying to protect you but instead I pushed you away, to be alone." 

Hen added softly, “It was overdue, Buck. Way overdue.”

Buck’s gaze flicked up to her, searching.

Hen gave the smallest shake of her head, a quiet promise.

I didn’t tell them your secret.

He relaxed slightly.

Bobby’s voice was gentle but steady. “I should’ve been better, Buck. I’m supposed to look out for everyone here. Instead, I let you feel alone in a place that’s supposed to be your home.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie met Buck’s eyes. “We all are.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it wasn’t empty.

It was full.

Buck looked at them, really looked at Bobby’s tired regret, Hen’s guilt, Chim’s awkward sincerity, Eddie’s quiet remorse.

These were his people. The ones who had hurt him.

And the ones who, deep down, he still loved.

He took a slow breath. “I appreciate the apologies.”

Bobby started to speak, but Buck lifted a hand. “But… it’s going to take me time. To believe it. To feel part of the team, the family again.”

Hen nodded, her eyes soft.

“I forgive you,” Buck said quietly. “But we’re not back to what we were. Not yet. You all hurt me, and that’s not something I can just get over overnight.”

No anger. No bitterness. Just honesty.

Bobby’s throat worked before he answered. “That’s fair.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Take whatever time you need. We’ll be here.”

Chim gave a small, sheepish smile. “We’ll probably annoy you trying to make it up.”

Buck actually laughed a real, small laugh. “That tracks.”

Hen smiled. “Just don’t avoid meals anymore. That’s all we ask.”

Buck hesitated, then nodded. “Deal.”

They finished eating in a more comfortable quiet this time.

No more pretending everything was fine, just sitting together, messy and human, trying again.

When Buck stood to put his plate in the sink, Bobby said softly, “Hey, Buck?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

Bobby smiled, warm and sad all at once. “Thanks for coming to the table.”

Buck met his gaze, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks for setting one.”

Chapter Text

Buck didn’t really want to go.

He’d stared at the group text from Bobby for nearly an hour, thumb hovering over the screen like it might explode.

Bobby: Dinner at mine tonight. 7pm. Please come Buck.

But when Cat popped her head around his bedroom door holding up one of her sparkly shirts and asked, “Can I come meet your fire family?” he couldn’t say no.

When they arrived at Bobby and Athena’s house, the air smelled like roasted garlic and home.

Buck stood on the doorstep for a second too long, nerves crawling up his spine.

Cat, of course, had no such hesitation.

She bounced in place, clutching a plastic container of what looked suspiciously like Bibble brownies.

“Okay,” Buck warned softly, “remember what we talked about...”

“Be polite,” Cat said, counting on her fingers. “Don’t call them mean names. Don’t mention how they ignored you for months. Don’t bring up the lawsuit thingy.”

Buck blinked. “…Yeah. Most importantly, be yourself Cat.”

She grinned. “Got it!”

Then, before he could knock, the door opened and Athena appeared, her expression instantly softening when she saw him.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” she said warmly.

“Come in, Buck.”

He smiled a little. “Thanks, Athena.”

Her gaze flicked to Cat, who waved enthusiastically. “Hi! I’m Cat!”

Athena’s brow arched. “You are…?”

Buck opened his mouth, but Cat beat him to it.

“I’m his daughter!” she announced brightly. “But before you freak out, yes, there was a sparkly DNA test and no, even though his my fire dad, I don’t breathe fire even though that would be totally awesome! Imagine if it was glitter fire.”

Buck’s mouth dropped open, but a laugh came out. “Cat!”

Athena blinked. “I... arh...what?”

Before anyone could process, Maddie’s voice floated in from the living room. “Did someone just say daughter?”

Maddie walked in, wine in hand, eyes flicking between them.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I missed something. Who’s the girl?”

Cat smiled, all dimples and chaos. “Hi! I’m Cat Valentine! You must be Buck’s sister! I recognise you from the photos, my beautiful auntie! Wow, you look less traumatized than I expected!”

Maddie blinked. “Excuse me?”

Buck groaned. “Cat,”

“What?” Cat shrugged. “You said she’s been through a lot! I'm telling her she is beautiful and doesn't look like she has been through it all." She smiled, doing a quick twirl so her dress spins.

Athena was still standing there, looking between Buck and Cat like she was trying to solve an emotional math equation.

Finally, she said, “Buck, are you going to explain, or should I pour myself a drink first?”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, yeah… long story short...turns out I, uh, have a daughter. This is Cat. She found me a couple of months ago. We did the test, it’s real. She’s mine.”

Maddie’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious? I'm an auntie?”

Buck nodded. “You are.”

Hen, who’d been setting the table, slowly turned around with an I knew this coming was look.

Chim froze mid step, holding a tray of garlic bread. “Wait, wait, wait. You? Have a kid?”

Cat waved. “Hi! That’s me! Fire Dad’s daughter!”

Eddie blinked. “Fire Dad?”

Hen bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Don’t ask.”

Athena folded her arms. “Okay, back up. How old are you?”

“Fourteen!” Cat said proudly. “But my maturity level is at least six. Or, like, eight on Mondays.”

Maddie still looked dazed. “How… how did this even happen?”

Cat giggled. “Mum and dad did adult stuff, way above my maturity level!”

Buck sighed into his hands, laughing along. “Please stop talking.”

Bobby walked over "It's nice to meet you Cat, I'm Bobby." Bobby smiled and looked at Buck with awe. 

Cat looked at him for a second. "Hi Bobby." She smiled, and passed the bibble brownies to him. "I made these."

Bobby took them and smiled.

The room fell into a strange kind of silence, the kind where everyone was processing at different speeds.

Chim was clearly stuck in a mental loop, whispering, “Buck’s a dad… Buck’s a dad…” under his breath.

Hen was watching Buck with quiet pride.

Eddie was studying him like he was seeing him for the first time.

Athena just muttered, “I knew there was something different about you lately.”

Buck finally spoke. “Yeah, it’s been… a lot. But she’s a good kid. Loud. Random. Energetic. But good. Love her already”

Cat smiled at him. “Aww, Fire Dad! You love me!”

“Don’t make it weird,” he said gently, but there was warmth in his voice.

Hen, still smiling, gestured to the table. “Alright, everyone, sit down before the lasagna gets cold. We can all freak out after Bobby’s food.”

Cat gasped. “Lasagna? That’s like spaghetti cake!”

Chim whispered, “She’s a mini Buck.”

Hen nodded. “Oh, completely.”

Dinner was… chaotic.

Cat talked non stop, telling stories about Hollywood Arts, her “fruit improv class,” and her latest Bibble experiment.

Eddie laughed more than Buck had seen him laugh in months.

Even Maddie, after getting over the shock, started smiling again, watching her little brother and niece with something close to pride.

At one point, Cat turned to the table mid sentence and asked innocently, “So, have you all stopped being mean to my fire dad yet?”

Forks froze midair.

Athena blinked. “Excuse me?”

Hen closed her eyes. “Oh no.”

Buck groaned. “Cat,”

“No, it’s okay!” Cat said brightly. “He told me you all acted really mean and cold to him after some lawsuit thingy! But he said not to mention it, but being mean is mean, so are you done?"

Chim choked on his water.

Maddie dropped her fork.

Eddie looked like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Hen covered her face, half laughing, half mortified. “Oh, she’s perfect.”

Bobby just nodded solemnly. “That’s… fair, we did, we have apologised, we are trying to be better.”

Athena gave him a look. “We have had words also." She did not look happy at Bobby. 

He shrugged. “She’s not wrong. We are trying to rebuild our relationship.”

Buck rubbed his forehead. “We don't have to talk about this."

Cat blinked, waving Buck off “So… yes, then?” she asked Bobby.

Bobby smiled faintly. “We’re trying to be better, sweetheart.”

“Good!” Cat said brightly. “Because my Fire Dad deserves nice people.”

Buck sighed, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. He loves his daughter.

After dinner, Maddie pulled Buck aside near the kitchen.
“She’s really something,” she said softly.

He smiled. “Yeah. She really is.”

Maddie squeezed his arm. “You’re gonna be a great dad, Buck.”

He exhaled. “I hope so.”

Athena passed by, muttering, “If she keeps baking with glitter, you’re gonna need a hazmat suit.”

Hen’s laughter echoed from the dining room. “Told you, Bobby. Glitter’s contagious!”

By the end of the night, Cat had somehow convinced Chimney to try her Bibble brownies, got Eddie to agree to visit Hollywood Arts and bring his son, and called Bobby 'Fire Grandpa' by accident, which, surprisingly, Bobby didn’t deny.

As they left, Cat waved dramatically from the doorway. “Goodbye, Fire Family! Thank you for dinner and the positive energy!”

Buck groaned. “Cat…”

“What? I’m manifesting positivity!”

Hen called after them, “You’re welcome anytime, kiddo!”

Athena added dryly, “As long as you don’t bring glitter next time.”

Cat gasped. “No promises! It follows me."

As they walked to the Jeep, Cat sang softly beside him.“You’re happy,” she said suddenly.

Buck glanced down. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Good,” she said. “They were mean before, but I think they like you again. And me too, obviously.”

He smiled. “Obviously.”

Cat grinned. “See? Told you. Sometimes it just takes a little glitter.”

Buck chuckled. “You might be right, kiddo.”