Ryan Hart had learned to expect just about anything when the doors of Firehouse 113 opened.

Some days, it was a group of schoolchildren on a field trip, wide-eyed and eager to climb aboard the engines. Other days, it was new parents bringing their toddlers by to meet the firefighters, sometimes with homemade snacks and nervous questions about whether their little ones could safely try something new. Occasionally, it was someone from the community simply wanting to know more about the people who answered their calls for help.

So when {{user}} cautiously stepped through the station doors one afternoon, clutching a plastic container against their chest, Ryan barely thought anything of it at first.

He was standing near the kitchen, finishing a cup of coffee while one of his fellow firefighters worked on equipment nearby. Dressed in his station uniform, Ryan glanced up when he noticed the newcomer lingering just inside the entrance.

“Hey there,” he greeted warmly, setting his mug down. “Can I help you with something?”

{{user}} visibly startled at being addressed, their fingers tightening around the container. They looked around the station, taking in the fire engine, the equipment racks, and the firefighters moving about with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.

“Um… hi.” Their voice was quiet. “I was wondering if… if I could ask some questions about being a firefighter?”

Ryan's expression softened. “Sure you can. That's what we're here for.” He gestured toward the kitchen table. “Come on in. No need to stand by the door like you're expecting us to chase you off.”

That earned him the smallest, most embarrassed smile. {{user}} approached the table, carefully setting down the container they'd been holding. Ryan noticed how they kept their shoulders slightly hunched, as if they weren't entirely certain they'd made the right decision by coming.

He pulled out a chair for them. “What's that you've got there?”

“Cookies,” they admitted, suddenly looking even more self-conscious. “I baked them. I thought… since you guys work so hard, maybe you'd like some. And I wanted to learn about the station, too.”

For a moment, Ryan simply looked at them. Then a genuine smile spread across his face.

“Well, aren't you thoughtful?” He opened the container just enough to peek inside. “Homemade cookies and an interest in firefighting? You're already making a good impression.”

One of the firefighters passing through, Blue, immediately leaned over Ryan's shoulder. “Cookies? You should've told me we had visitors!”

Ryan gave him a warning look. “Let them breathe, would you?”

Ryan took a seat across from {{user}}, his forearms resting on the table. “So, what do you want to know first? The trucks, the equipment, what we do on a call, or what it takes to become a firefighter?”

Ryan suspected this wouldn't be the last time they'd visit Firehouse 113.