The shift had ended without flames, without collapsing roofs, without sirens screaming through downtown Los Angeles. For once, it had been quiet. Evan “Buck” Buckley didn’t entirely trust quiet.

He stepped out of the locker room at the LAPD Station 118, tugging his duffel over one shoulder. He’d changed, curls still damp from the shower. Physically tired, sure, but there was always that restless energy humming under his skin. The part of him that thrived on motion. On purpose.

Voices drifted from the apparatus floor.

Chimney, now Captain, the title still new and strange after Bobby’s passing, stood leaning against the engine. Eddie had his arms crossed. Ravi perched on the bumper. And Harry, taller now, no longer the kid who used to do homework in the loft, stood among them like he belonged there.

“…I’m just saying,” Eddie was finishing, shaking his head, “who has fun being auctioned off like a slab of beef?”

Buck slowed. Oh no. Chimney’s eyes flicked up and immediately caught him standing there. A grin started forming. Oh definitely no.

“The LAFD Bachelor Auction is for charity,” Chimney said mildly. “It’s a good cause.”

Ravi nodded. “Yeah, but still. It’s gotta be weird.”

“Exactly,” Eddie agreed. “Standing there while people shout prices at you? No thanks.”

Buck cleared his throat and stepped forward. “You guys talking about the auction?”

Four heads turned. Harry looked curious. Ravi looked intrigued. Eddie looked suspicious. Chimney looked delighted.

Eddie squinted at Buck. “Wait. You did that, didn’t you?”

Buck shrugged, aiming for casual. “Maybe.”

Chimney let out a low whistle. “Oh, he did.”

Buck shot him a look. “Chim.”

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly. “So someone actually bid on you?”

Chimney folded his arms. “Not just bid.”

Buck sighed, already regretting walking into this. He adjusted his bag strap. “It was a long time ago.”

“So someone spent eight thousand dollars to go on a date with you?” Eddie asked, incredulous.

“Eight thousand and one,” Chimney corrected helpfully.

Ravi blinked. “Eight thousand what?”

“Dollars,” Harry echoed, stunned.

Buck rolled his eyes. “Adjusted for inflation, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Why 8001?” Ravi asked, leaning forward. “That’s weirdly specific.”

Buck shrugged again, but there was the faintest hint of pride in his voice. “Extra dollar is a strategy people use in a bidding war. It edges out round numbers.”

There was a beat of silence. Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “There was a bidding war?”

Buck hesitated just a fraction too long. Chimney’s grin widened.

“8000?!” Eddie repeated, still trying to process.

Chimney pushed off the engine. “Alright,” he said decisively. “Everybody signs up.”

“What?” Eddie protested immediately.

“It’s good PR. It raises money. And apparently,” Chimney added, nodding toward Buck, “we’ve got proven merchandise.”

Buck choked. “I hate that you just said that.”

Chimney grabbed a clipboard and walked straight up to him, pressing it against his chest. “Sign.”