Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a chill night. Supposed to.
Chim picked the bar. He said it was the one he used to go to with Maddie, back when they were “just friends.”
(If you asked Buck, it was more like friends who made heart eyes at each other and ignored it for months.)
The bar was kind of gross, but like, in a cozy way. The neon sign outside buzzed like it was dying. The karaoke machine glitched every five songs. The menu just said “wings” with no explanation. But the drinks were cheap, and the bartender had one eye and a cowboy hat. So, obviously, perfect choice.
It was Ravi’s 5-year anniversary with the 118, and Bobby couldn’t come because he had date night with Athena. Something about keeping the spark alive, blah blah. The second the 118 group chat lit up with chaos, Bobby was already typing out a prayer emoji and a reminder not to end up in handcuffs. Again.
So it was just Buck, Eddie, Chim, Hen, and Ravi. Unsupervised.
That was their first mistake.
“Happy five years, Ravi!” Hen said, raising her drink as they squished into a booth near the stage.
Ravi grinned. “Thanks. Can’t believe I’ve survived five years of Chim’s ‘don’t touch my leftovers’ meltdowns and Buck and Eddie’s slow-burn eye-fucking. Thank God they finally figured their shit our six months ago. We were one longing glance away from a group intervention.”
“That’s fair,” Buck said, already sipping his drink. “But I haven’t traumatized you that much.”
Eddie turned his head. “You literally chased Ravi with a chainsaw when he was a probie.”
“It wasn’t even on,” Buck said. “It barely counts.”
Chim snorted. “You’re chaos in human form. Thank God Eddie exists or you’d have burned the station down by now.”
Hen smirked. “And now that they’re dating? It’s somehow worse.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Buck and Eddie had been together six months, and they were still stuck in their gross honeymoon phase―sharing fries, drinks, hoodies, and apparently one functioning brain cell.
It had all started when Eddie came back from Texas with Chris and moved back into his old house―where Buck just so happened to be subletting. Being three people in a two-bedroom home wasn’t ideal, especially when Buck flat-out refused to let Eddie take the couch. So they shared the bed.
It didn’t take long.
Somewhere between movie nights, shared lunches, and Buck making Chris’s school lunches like it was second nature, they both realized they were already a family. And that maybe, just maybe, this was the future they wanted all along.
At one point, Buck practically slid halfway into Eddie’s lap, and no one even blinked.
“You two are gross,” Chim muttered. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Buck said, smiling as Eddie absently played with the string on his hoodie like he’d been doing it for years.
Two drinks and one chaotic group butchered version of Bohemian Rhapsody later, a girl stepped on stage.
And Ravi noticed.
She was tall. Curvy. Brunette. Glasses. Tattoos on one arm. And confidence that filled the room before she even grabbed the mic.
The second the music started—God Is a Woman by Ariana Grande—Ravi sat up straighter.
“You… you love it how I move you, you love it how I touch you…”
Buck blinked.
Eddie tilted his head. “She’s good.”
Chim gave a low “damn.”
Ravi? Ravi was frozen. Just staring, wide-eyed, like someone had hit pause on his whole body.
“Bro,” Buck whispered. “You’re staring.”
“She’s good,” Ravi said, trying to act normal but very much failing.
“She’s hot,” Hen added, already smirking.
“She sang God Is a Woman. She has glasses and tattoos on her arm. That is so your type it’s not even subtle,” Buck said.
Chim made a face. “She looks like she could ruin your life and make you thank her for it.”
Ravi let out a little laugh. “I mean… yeah. She seems like she knows how to break hearts.”
As soon as the song ended, she walked off stage and headed to the bar.
Hen elbowed him. “Go. Now.”
“What? No!”, Ravi said.
Eddie leaned in. “Go, before some other guy beats you to it.”
Ravi turned―just in time to see a drunk guy walk up behind her and grab her ass.
Everything happened fast.
She turned. Grabbed the guy by the back of the neck. Slammed his face on the bar with a loud thunk.
Then she twisted his arm behind his back and shouted, “APOLOGIZE.”
The guy cried, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please stop!”
The entire 118 booth went dead silent.
Hen stood up. “YES. MA’AM.”
Buck, staring with wide eyes: “Strong women are so hot.”
Eddie gave him side-eye. “You wanna say that again?”
“What? Not in a flirty way. Just, like… she could throw me through a window, and I’d say thank you.”
Chim, nearly choking on his beer, waved a do not engage gesture across his neck. “Ravi, don’t do it. Abort mission.”
Ravi looked at them. Chim’s eyes screamed no. His hands screamed hell no.
But Buck, Eddie, and Hen? Big smiles. Giant thumbs up.
So Ravi did what any mildly drunk guy with a questionable sense of timing would do.
He went.
“Hey,” he said, sliding in beside her. “You okay?”
She still had the guy’s arm pinned. Her glasses were crooked. Her whole vibe? Less furious, more exhausted. Like this wasn’t the first creep she’d dealt with tonight- and probably wouldn’t be the last.
“Yeah, I’m good. He’s not.”
She nodded toward the guy still face-planted on the bar, just as security finally grabbed him and dragged him out the front door.
Ravi chuckled. “Fair. Uh, want a drink?”
She looked him up and down, like she was running a background check.
“Only if you buy me two.”
“Deal.”
She held out her hand. “I’m Mélanie.”
“I’m Ravi.”
He tilted his head. “You have an accent.”
She raised a brow. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” Ravi said, intrigued. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sound like that before. Where are you from?”
She cracked a small smile. “Montréal, I’m French.”
Ravi grinned. “Ah. That explains the mix of menace and manners.”
She smirked. “Exactly.”
Then she leaned in, amused and dangerous. “Come on, Ravi. Let’s drink.”
Back at the booth:
118 group chat – Bobby’s Daily Headache (Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Buck, Eddie, Ravi)
BUCK: he’s gonna die but like. it’ll be a good death
HEN: death by hot girl energy and zero hesitation
CHIM: this is NOT the move
EDDIE: she’s laughing omg i think she likes him
BUCK: GO KING
BOBBY: This is a professional group chat. Please do not use it for flirting updates. - Bobby Nash
HEN: you’re literally not here
BUCK: bobby go back to your date
BOBBY: none of your business. stop texting. - Bobby Nash
CHIM: SHE KISSED HIS CHEEK
BUCK: HE’S BLUSHING SO BAD
EDDIE: THEY’RE LEAVING
HEN: hand in hand i’m emotional
BOBBY: …good for you Ravi. Now stop texting. - Bobby Nash
________________________________________
At Ravi’s place:
“So… you live alone?” Mélanie asked as she walked in.
“Yeah,” Ravi said, tossing his keys on the counter. “My wife and three kids are in the other room, but they’re pretty chill about this.”
She snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
He grinned. “Thanks. It’s my most consistent trait.”
They barely made it to the couch before things heated up―kissing, touching, grabbing. Clothes started coming off as they moved towards the bedroom.
Her glasses hit the nightstand. His socks disappeared somewhere. She kissed him like she meant it, like he was a challenge she planned to win.
Ravi tried―really tried―not to finish too fast.
It was hard. She was hot. Confident. In charge.
At one point, he said to himself “Okay, think about spreadsheets. Think about Bobby lecturing Buck. Think about… soggy cereal. Nope. Too far.”
But he held on.
Barely.
After, they laid tangled up in his sheets. She rested her hand on his chest, tracing slow circles with her nails.
“You’re good,” he said, breathless.
She grinned. “I know.”
Ravi stared at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot.
3:00 AM – 118 group chat – Bobby’s Daily Headache (Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Buck, Eddie, Ravi)
BUCK: any updates??
HEN: ravi is MIA
CHIM: he’s either dead or thriving
EDDIE: she probably took his wallet tbh
BUCK: plot twist she took his heart
BOBBY: it is 3:07 AM. I will start writing people up. - Bobby Nash
HEN: we’re not even on shift
BOBBY: i’m still disappointed. - Bobby Nash