for the prompt "here, take my jacket," which no one asked me for but I had a dream about, so
for @diazass just bc
(gen audience, different first meeting, meet-cute, buddie. 1.9k words)
It started one day, after a particularly long and grueling shift. Eddie and his coworkers on B Shift were cleaning out their lockers, stuffing clothes and other belongings into their duffel bags, getting the space ready for the incoming shift that would relieve them. Eddie, like some of the other firefighters on his shift, would also bring in a photo or two, using magnets to stick them to the inside of their assigned lockers. It was a little silly, Eddie supposed, putting up and taking down a photograph of Christopher at the end of every 24 or 48 hour shift, but it never failed to brighten his mood when he was working.
Eddie had started working at the 118 about a month prior, but he still didn’t feel like he knew his coworkers especially well. Everyone was friendly enough, but most seemed content to stick to themselves or a single long-made friend. Eddie didn’t particularly mind; he had been brought on to the 118 by Captain Nash, who oversaw the A shift. He was temporarily working with B Shift, for reasons to do with trouble finagling Christopher’s care schedule, and would hopefully be switching to the A Shift in another month or so, when Chris started at a new school and Eddie’s schedule could change a bit. So, he didn’t really mind that he wasn’t making fast friends at the 118, content to concentrate on making his first few months as a probationary firefighter as smooth as possible.
At the end of this shift, though, Eddie was dead on his feet, and managed to forget to completely clean out his locker — leaving behind the single photo of Chris, held up by a tiny magnet pilfered from Abuela’s fridge. Unaware of the chain of events a tiny photo of a tiny boy was about to set off, Eddie sighed tiredly, shutting the door, a left for home and a well-deserved sleep.
Two days later, Eddie arrived at the 118 again, and opened his locker door to find a surprise. There, the photo of Chris just where he had left it, and underneath — a post-it note. In large, untidy scrawl was a short phrase: “Super adorable. I love kids!” Eddie stared at it briefly, a little in shock. He hadn’t even remembered that he had forgotten the photo; and here was a bright and unsigned missive like a wave from a friend. He smiled bemusedly down into his locker, unsure what to make of it.
“What’s got you in a good mood, Eddie?” Another firefighter — Walker — asked.
“Oh, nothing, just a good day off,” Eddie answered, shutting his locker. The rest of their shift — an easy one, thankfully — found Eddie feeling strangely light, smiling in down moments when his mind drifted back to the note. At the end of their 24 hours, Eddie debated briefly before deciding to leave the photo up in the locker. He was guarded about Chris, always; he had only mentioned having a son in passing to his coworkers — but something about the genuine tone of the post-it note made him feel okay just leaving it up. The stranger from A shift had already seen it, after all, and they always used the same assigned lockers. Just before he left for the day, he pulled out a pen. At the bottom of the note, he added a tiny smiley face and a small addition: “I love this one.”
