In Case of Emergency
The 118 discuss their "In Case of Emergency" contacts.
“Hey, guys, wait up!” Buck calls, flagging Hen and Eddie down as they begin to load their victim into the back of the ambulance. He’s got a black cellphone in hand, and he takes the stairs two at a time, spirited by some nonexistent emergency — their victim stable, but in need of an audience with an actual doctor.
“I got the guy’s phone.” Buck huffs, passing it off to Eddie who holds it up to show their victim the fruit of Buck’s initial panic.
“It’s your lucky day, buddy.” Eddie jokes, “Why don’t we give your emergency contact a call?”
“Sure.” Pete croaks, strapped into the gurney. “It’s my brother, he’s listed under ICE.”
“Very good, Pete.” Eddie praises, only slightly distracted in his search for the vic’s contact list, “In Case of Emergency. You, my friend, have earned yourself a gold star in safety.”
Hen snorts at that.
“What?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows quirking together in the briefest display of confusion.
“A gold star?” She teases, “Who taught you that? Ana?” And then, after a second of thought she adds, “Eddie… is Ana your ICE?”
“I think it’s still Shannon.” Eddie shrugs, handing the phone off to their patient. “Haven’t really thought about it, I guess.”
Hen can read Eddie better than that, but she doesn’t press the issue further.
“Why, who’s your ICE?” Eddie asks.
Hen deadpans, “My wife.”
“Hey, Buck?” Eddie finds himself asking, when there’s a lapse in emergencies and the 118 find themselves sitting around the loft. “Who’s your ICE?”
“I think it might still be Ali.” Buck frowns, tapping into his phone. He hadn’t really thought about it to be honest… the 118’s just always had his back in his hour of need.
“Not Taylor?” Chimney supplies.
“At least it’s not Abby.” Eddie mumbles.
“Hold on a minute now.” Hen says, throwing her two cents into the mix, “You two can’t make fun of Buck for who his ICE is when Eddie’s is still Shannon; and who’s yours Chim? Tatiana?”
“No way,” Chimney replies, “it’s been Maddie — for years now.
“What about Ana and Taylor?” Hen challenges, “Who are their I.C.E.’s?”
“Probably her sister.” Eddie shrugs, at the same time Buck comments absentmindedly, “Probably her cameraman.”
“Her cameraman?” Chimney repeats, wondering if he’d heard right.
“You two are pathetic.” Hen decides, turning back to her magazine.
“Maybe you two could have each other as your I.C.E.’s?” Chimney proposes, the cameraman comment remaining wholly undiscussed, “There. Problem solved.”
“Or,” Hen counters, despite having acted like she was past this conversation, “maybe you two should have a grown up conversation with your respective girlfriends.”
The whole ordeal weighs on Eddie long after the conversation is said and done. It’s the not definitively knowing who’s depending on him in their hour of need that gets him.
Of course he’s Christopher’s ICE, that just comes with the territory of being a parent, but he doesn’t know for sure that he isn’t Ana’s.
…Is that a step either of them is ready to take?
That night, after dinner, he’s a little reaffirmed to see Ana’s phone light up with a call from her sister, just as she’s moved to take her leave — ICE displayed in a banner at the top. “I’ll talk to you later, Edmundo.” She waves, starting down the drive as she holds her phone to her ear.
Closing the door behind her, Eddie’s own phone lights up:
“Hey, I know you were joking,” Buck says, by way of greeting, “but I was thinking about those gold stars…”
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a little game, a little fun
by: letswritethis (alkaysani)
for the enablers at the weewoofam discord
the one where judd and buck are playing video games and judd discovers something about buck and decides to do something about it. and of course, grace wants to join in the fun
(read on ao3)
“Why are you grinning like a loon?”
Judd looks over to find Grace raising an eyebrow at him, and he motions for her to join him on the couch, lifting the headset and putting the volume up.
“Say hello, dumbass.”
Grace blinks, grabbing the half empty bag of pork rinds from the table and pressing close. “Is that Buck?” she asks, and Judd grins, before putting a hand over the mic.
“Just listen,” he says, before turning back on the television. “Alright Buck, let’s move out!”
“Cool, cool. I got this—oh fuck.”
Grace watches as Judd grins, all teeth, eyes shining mischievously. “Oh come on Buck. I’ve taught you how to do this. You can do better for me now,” he says, voice low.
And Buck makes a noise between a choke and a scream, and Grace’s eyes widen.
“Did he just—” Grace whispers, and Judd nods his head.
“Choke on his own tongue?” he hums, putting a hand on the mic again. “Oh yeah.”
So Grace crosses her legs, and puts another rind in her mouth and listens. And because Judd is Judd, when he sinks his teeth into something that amuses him, he will rattle it until he’s satisfied.
“Firehose, you’re better at handling your gear, I know it.”
“That’s it, just take it slow—oh, you went off too fast. That’s all good, you’re still learning.”
Even Grace has to smile at that, especially since Buck’s continuously just making whimpering and choking noises that he probably thinks is being drowned by the gunfire of the game. When in reality he’s putting on quite an amusing show.
“Tell him he needs a bigger gun,” Grace says at one point, because honestly, it’s a mismatch. “Can’t be part of your squad if he’s not packing the right piece,” she says, leaning over to speak directly into the mic and Judd has to a muffle his laughter by kissing her temple.
“Is that Grace?” Buck asks, voice soft, and way too bothered. She almost feels bad.
“Why it is, Buck. Now, are you going to take my advise?” she asks, and there’s a deep breath, and an audible gulp.
“Yes Miss Grace,” he replies, soft, but loud and clear for the both of them.
“There’s a good boy.”
Again, it’s the same choking noise, but this time it’s followed by a crash, and Judd immediately puts himself on mute.
“I think we broke him,” he says, not looking the least bit sorry.
The poor boy.
There’s the obvious sounds Buck scrambling to straighten himself, and at one point Judd has to move the mic away from his ear as static cuts through.
“Buck? You good? Why are you all red? Why are you on the floor?”
Judd lets out an unabashed laugh.
“Oh hey, Hollywood!” Judd yells into the mic, winking at Grace as he does. “I was just teaching your boy here new tricks!” he says, and Buck squawks, and there’s an obvious pause.
“Tr—What kind of tricks, Judd?”
Grace bites her lip, trying not to laugh. That is not a happy sounding man.
“Oh you know. He’s all knew to my squad and baby boy here needed to learn how to ride with the big boys. So me and the wife are just teaching him how to handle the big guns and all,” Judd continues, and Grace leans in then, grabbing the mic.
“And he did so well, didn’t you Buck?” she says, and Eddie lets out a soft noise then, especially since Buck’s just breathing into the mic. Then, there’s even more shuffling.
“I think Buck needs some downtime,” Eddie says, and he sounds closer, and a little hard around the edges.
“C’mon Eddie—I’m good—”
“You are, aren’t you? So hush,” Eddie says, and they hear a soft sigh, and Buck humming.
And that’s when Judd smiles, and Grace nods at him. Time to let these guys off the hook.
“Don’t be too angry, Hollywood. We were just getting him all worked up for you,” he says before gently taking off the headset now and giving it to Grace, so she can speak directly to the mic.
“Now say thank you, Eddie,” she says firmly, and there’s another shuffle.
“Thank you Grace,” Eddie says, almost like he can’t believe he’s there, but he’s no longer angry. Then there’s a soft sigh, so she waits another beat.
“Thank you, Miss Grace,” she barely hears afterwards, Buck sound breathless, muffled. She can only guess that he’s practically melted against Eddie.
Judd grins then, wrapping his arms around Grace now. They’ve long lost the game, but her husband doesn’t care.
“Didn’t I tell you gaming was fun, baby?”
“You did, husband,” she says, sliding onto his lap and kissing him softly, falling into it. Then they hear someone clearing their throat.
“Uh, you know we can still hear you right?”
Grace pulls back with an eyeroll, and grabs the mic. “Then start taking notes,” she says, and Buck lets out a soft squeak, then, voice down to a whisper.
“Okay, Miss Grace.”
Judd’s leaning and peppering kisses on her shoulder now, as she brings the mic to her lips one last time.
“There’s a good boy.”
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