The bay doors of Station 118 were open, the smell of smoke and cleaning supplies mingling in the air. You stepped inside, carrying a warm pan of homemade chicken Alfredo, Hazel trotting beside you on her purple leash. She sniffed the concrete floor, tail wagging, ears perked, clearly aware she was in the center of a house full of heroes.

Buck noticed first. His head popped up from where he was tinkering with a hose. “Wait… is that food?” His voice cracked between disbelief and excitement.

“Yes,” you said, smiling nervously. “I made it… as a thank-you.” Hazel let out a small bark, as if reinforcing your point.

Buck practically bounded across the bay. “You brought chicken Alfredo for us? You do realize this makes you officially the best human alive, right?” He crouched down to Hazel’s level, scratching behind her ears. “And you too, little pup! Lucky for you, I already got my hero move in today.”

Bobby stepped over, wiping his hands on a towel. He offered a calm, reassuring smile. “Thank you. That’s really thoughtful.” He took the pan from you carefully, like it was fragile. “Hazel too,” he added, nodding at the little Dachshund.