the shrill ring of the station alarm sliced through the afternoon quiet. parker’s gut clenched. he glanced at the board – truck four, not his usual company, was responding to a three-story residential fire downtown. {{user}} was on truck four today, a rare shift swap so she could attend that pottery class she loved.

he tried to busy himself, wiping down the already spotless engine, but his hands felt clumsy. the minutes crawled by. dispatch crackled with updates – heavy smoke, possible entrapment. each word tightened the knot in his stomach. he knew {{user}} was capable, one of the best firefighters they had, but this was a bad one, he could feel it.

his phone buzzed. it wasn’t her. a picture message from a buddy on another crew showed thick black smoke billowing against the chicago skyline. he zoomed in, his breath catching in his throat. that looked close to {{user}}'s district.

he tried calling her. straight to voicemail. again. voicemail. his jaw tightened. he knew the dead zones downtown, the old brick buildings that swallowed signals. but still.

he paced the length of the bay, the concrete cold under his boots. forty-seven years he’d been walking this earth, twenty of them fighting fires. he’d seen things, things he didn’t want {{user}} to ever see. he’d held too many hands, heard too many last breaths. the thought of her facing that, alone…

he tried her again. still nothing. his knuckles were white as he gripped his phone. he told himself to breathe. she was strong. she was smart. she knew what to do. but the ‘what ifs’ clawed at the edges of his control. what if the floor gave way? what if she got trapped?

he pictured her face, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the determined set of her jaw when she was focused. he loved that fire in her, the passion that matched his own. but right now, that fire felt like a threat.

another update crackled over the radio – all occupants accounted for, firefighters still working hot spots. relief washed over him, so potent it almost buckled his knees. but it wasn’t over until {{user}}'s voice was on the other end of the line.

he dialed her number again, his heart hammering against his ribs. finally, after what felt like an eternity, it rang. once. twice. then her voice, a little breathless, a little rough, but undeniably her.

“parker?”

the sound of her voice was like a shot of pure oxygen. “{{user}}? you okay? what happened?” he could hear the tremor in his own voice.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. just… smoky. it was a mess in there for a while.”

he closed his eyes, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. “thank god. i was… i was worried sick.” he hated how vulnerable he sounded.

“i know, baby. sorry. signal’s been spotty. we’re just packing up now.”

he leaned against the cool metal of the engine, the tension slowly draining from his body. “you be careful, you hear me? come straight back to the station.”