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The 126 was unusually quiet. The hum of sirens and the clatter of boots rushing out the door had been replaced with something softer, the rhythmic squeak of sponges scrubbing chrome, the hiss of spray bottles as they sprayed cleaning liquid on to the dirt, and the low murmur of firefighters and paramedics ticking off inventory. It had been over two hours since the last call, and though no one would say it aloud for fear of jinxing the streak, the calm was nice.
Judd leaned against one of the engines, with a rag in his hand, squinting up at the already gleaming red paint. He gave it one more swipe, because Marjan had made a sport of pointing out streaks he’d missed, and he wasn’t about to lose this time. Across the bay, Nancy and Tommy were cataloguing supplies, their voices overlapping in the practiced rhythm of people who’d done this a hundred times before.
Upstairs, Owen sat in his office, drowning in paperwork. Insurance forms, department memos, and endless reports, hardly the most glamorous part of leading a firehouse, but a necessary one. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, already thinking about the coffee he was going to reward himself with once he finished the current stack.
Unfortunately, what Owen didn’t know was that his peace was about to be interrupted. Downstairs a truck was heard pulling up to the entrance, parking to the side to avoid blocking access, everyone looked up to see who it was but even if they hadn't, they would have known by the distinct sound of the boots and the way he walked,
It was Billy Tyson, former captain, current deputy chief and rival and thorn in Owen’s side. And depending on the day, something resembling a friend. His presence immediately changed the air in the bay, drawing every set of eyes and putting people on edge.
Judd dropped the rag and stepped forward, meeting him halfway. His voice was measured, calm but with an edge. “Billy. What brings you by?”
Billy smirked, that half cocked grin that never failed to set people on edge.
“Easy, Ryder. I’m not here to cause a scene. Just came to talk to Strand.”
That earned a glance from the rest of the crew. Marjan straightened from where she was coiling a hose. Paul stopped fussing with the gear rack. Even Nancy, normally the picture of focus, looked up from the clipboard. They all knew the history. Owen and Billy had a way of turning even a casual conversation into a clash of egos,or worse.
“You sure about that?” Judd asked, narrowing his eyes.
Billy gave a shrug, unfazed. “Positive. Just a professional conversation.” he indicated to the paperwork he had in his left hand.
The firehouse seemed to hold its breath as Judd finally stepped aside, though not without muttering, “Alright. But I’ll be right here in case that conversation needs chaperoning.”
Billy chuckled under his breath and made his way toward the stairs, boots heavy on the metal steps. Upstairs, Owen still had no idea that calm was about to turn into anything but.
Down in the bay, work slowly stopped. One by one, the crew of the 126 set down their rags, their clipboards, and their neatly stacked boxes of gauze. Like magnets drawn to the same pole, they drifted toward the engine and began leaning against its gleaming side. Their eyes weren’t on their chores anymore. Instead, every gaze tracked upward.
Captain Strand’s office, which was luckily had three glass walls gave the team a perfect vantage point. And right now, the subject of their attention was the man climbing the stairs two at a time, Billy Tyson.
Tommy crossed her arms, calm but watchful. Nancy tilted her head, squinting like she could somehow read lips through the glass. Paul leaned his shoulder against the truck, already bracing for the inevitable clash. TK and Mateo stood shoulder to shoulder, both looking more like kids watching a soap opera than seasoned first responders. Marjan tapped a finger against her arm, unable to hide her anticipation, while Judd stood planted in front of the group, his jaw tight, and looking every inch like a guard dog even from a distance.
Upstairs, Billy rapped his knuckles on the door and pushed it open before the words “Come in” had fully left Owen’s mouth. Classic Tyson, always impatient.
But instead of frowning, Owen leaned back in his chair with a visible exhale of relief. He’d been ankle deep in paperwork, feeling lost in the bureaucratic swamp, and here was a distraction. Owen was glad to see Billy, but he wouldn’t tell him that of course.
“Well, well,” Owen said, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Billy Tyson. I thought I smelled trouble.”
Billy gave that trademark grin, closing the door behind him.
“Don’t tell me you weren’t thrilled to see me walk through that door.” he teased the older man. To the crew below, it looked like two men circling each other inside a cage, predators eyeing prey, or maybe old dogs sniffing out whether this was going to be a fight or just some growling. They leaned closer against the truck, their whispers soft but eager.
“Think they’ll yell?” Nancy murmured.
“Or throw something,” Marjan added, a little too hopefully.
“Knowing Cap, maybe both,” Paul said.
From their perch, Owen and Billy were oblivious to the peanut gallery below. For the moment, there was no shouting, and no chest thumping, just a surprisingly warm reunion, the kind that unsettled everyone who knew just how thin the ice between them usually was.
For a moment, Owen thought this was going to be easy as he watched Billy sit down and then lean back in the chair opposite his desk, looking as cool as ever as he dropped a slim folder onto the cluttered surface.
“Nothing big,” Billy said casually. “Just a few things I need you to look at. Couple of signatures. A few blanks to fill in.”
Owen arched an eyebrow, but the relaxed tone was disarming enough. He reached for the folder, flipping it open.
“Paperwork?” He sighed, but there was a smile tugging at his mouth. “You came all the way over here to play courier?”
Billy shrugged, perfectly at ease.
“Better than staring at a wall. Besides, you know me. I like to keep you honest.”
Down below, the crew stayed glued to their vantage point. From the glass walls above, all they could see were Owen’s hands flipping pages, Billy leaning back, smirking like a man who knew something no one else did.
“Looks fine,” Owen muttered, skimming. He scrawled his name across the first three pages without hesitation. Sign here, here, and here. Easy enough.
Billy nodded approvingly. “See? No problem.”
The next few sheets were different. This time not just signature lines, but boxes and blank spaces, whole sections of missing data. Owen frowned, pen hovering over the paper.
“Wait a second. What’s all this?”
Billy stretched, making himself comfortable in the chair like a cat curling into a sunbeam.
“Oh, nothing. Just a few clarifications. Couple of little errors in what you submitted last month.”
Owen glanced up sharply. “Errors? My reports are meticulous.”
Billy grinned wider, enjoying himself.
“Relax, New York. It’s nothing you can’t fix. Just needs a little of that famous Strand attention to detail.”
The confusion hadn’t turned to frustration yet, but the storm clouds were gathering. Owen flipped another page, brows knitting tighter with every blank space staring back at him.
From their spot in the bay, the crew saw the captain’s posture shift, his relaxed shoulders stiffening, his head tilting in that way that meant a headache was about to form. Paul muttered under his breath, “Uh oh, here it comes.”
But for now, no voices had been raised. No pens had been thrown. Just Owen, caught between mild irritation and disbelief, and Billy sitting there like the smug embodiment of boredom itself.
Owen dragged his pen across the last blank space with a flourish that was more frustration than formality. He let it clatter onto the desk, shoulders sagging as though he’d just wrestled with a fire hose instead of a stack of bureaucratic nonsense.
“There,” he said, his voice clipped, and his eyes narrowing at the man across from him. “Done.”
Billy didn’t move to take the papers back. He just sat there in the chair like it was a throne, with one ankle hooked lazily over his knee, and a grin tugging at his mouth as though he’d orchestrated the entire afternoon purely for his own entertainment.
Owen started to compile the corrected forms, ready to give them back to Billy. “Now, unless you’ve got something resembling an actual emergency” his voice trailed off as his eyes caught the rest of the stack beneath. He pulled them free, flipping through, and frowned.
Every box was filled. All had dates and signatures that were neat and tidy. There was not a single error he could see.
“You gave me completed forms?” Owen looked up, disbelief in his voice. “What is this, some kind of joke?” He returned them to the stack of forms, ready to shove them back across the desk. “Here. Now get out of my hair.”
Billy only smirked and shook his head slowly, as if savouring the moment.
Owen felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. “What?”
“You’re not finished,” Billy said smoothly, leaning forward now.
“Yes, I am.” Owen’s tone sharpened as he shoved the papers closer. “These are perfect. There’s nothing missing, nothing wrong. Don’t waste my time, Texas.”
Billy didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned in further, so close that Owen caught the sharp, spicy scent of his aftershave. It was maddening for Owen to realise that he liked it. Because it reminded him of things he shouldn’t be noticing about a man who had made a career out of getting under his skin. Broad shoulders under a navy flannel button down, the way his eyes flickered with amusement, the faint creases at the corner of his mouth when he smirked. God the man was infuriating attractive and Owen hated it.
Billy’s voice was low, teasing. “Right here.” He tapped a line with his finger, their hands brushing for the briefest second. “You forgot a period.”
Owen blinked at him, incredulous. “A period?”
“And here,” Billy continued, ignoring the dangerous heat in Owen’s stare, “Department should be capitalized. That little ‘d’? Sloppy.” he mocked.
For a man who was usually cool and collected, well most of the time anyway, Owen felt something inside him snap. His chair scraped the floor as he sat up straighter, his pen was in his hand again, but his glare could have burned a hole clean through Billy’s smirk.
“You dragged yourself all the way down here,” Owen bit out, “because some stupid forms had small things missing? The signature I could just about understand but a missing period and one lowercase letter? What the heck Tyson!?”
Billy’s grin widened, smug, infuriating and, God damn, stupidly attractive. “Hey. I have professional standards. Besides, what else was I supposed to do? Sit in my office all week? At least this way I get to wind you up which is always entertaining.”
Owen’s patience finally snapped like a dry twig. His chair screeched against the floor as he surged to his feet. In three strides, he was across the desk, slamming the stack of forms hard against Billy’s chest.
“Out,” he barked, voice low and furious. “Get out of my office!”
Billy didn’t flinch. He only looked down at the folder pressing into his chest, then back up with a slow, infuriating grin.
“Last I checked,” Billy said smoothly, “I’m your boss, Strand. Which means you fill out the forms the way I like them.”
Down in the bay, Judd stiffened instantly when Owen stormed around the desk. He half pushed off the fire truck, ready to head up the stairs and put himself between the two men.
“Here we go,” he muttered.
But Tommy caught his arm before he could move. Calm and steady, she shook her head.
“Wait,” she murmured. “Let’s see how this plays out.”
Judd shot her a disbelieving look, but her grip was firm. Reluctantly, he stayed put, though his eyes never left the glass walls above.
Back in the office, Owen stepped even closer, his voice a growl meant to end the game once and for all.
“Get. Out. Now.”
Billy tilted his head, eyes glittering, tone far too casual. “Easy there pretty boy. Don’t get your perfectly styled hair in a twist.”
Owen’s temper boiled over. The words ripped out of him before reason could catch them.
“God you are so fucking infuriating! I don’t know whether to kiss you or punch you!”
The silence that followed was electric. Billy’s grin deepened, slow and deliberate. His voice dropped to a husky rumble. “I’ll take the kiss, thanks.”
Owen froze, momentarily thrown. His chest tightened, his heartbeat thundered in his ears. “What?”
Billy moved to lean back against the desk, every movement deliberate. His shirt stretched across broad shoulders, his smirk easy, but his eyes held something else, something sharp and knowing. He looked maddeningly attractive, and Owen hated himself for noticing.
“You’ve already punched me once,” Billy said, smirking. “I really wouldn’t recommend it. So yeah, I think I'll take the kiss.”
Heat surged up Owen’s neck, but it wasn’t only anger anymore. His fists clenched at his sides, voice trembling with restrained fury. “Stop fucking around and get out of my office.”
Billy didn’t blink. “Who says I’m joking?”
Owen scoffed, but it came out weaker than he wanted. “You’re not serious.”
Billy’s gaze held his steady, that smirk turning into a dare. “Try me.”
And something inside Owen broke free.
He grabbed a fistful of Billy’s shirt and yanked him forward and upwards, crushing his mouth against his in a furious, biting kiss. It was all teeth and heat at first, a collision more than an embrace, both fighting for control, for dominance.
Owen pushed him away but also had his fingers twisting in Billy’s shirt trying to pull him closer, like his brain couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Billy’s hands came up fast, sliding into Owen’s hair, pulling him closer instead of retreating. Their mouths battled, rough and hungry, every brush of teeth and clash of tongues another challenge.
And somehow, impossibly, Billy won. He tilted his head, deepened the kiss, and Owen’s breath hitched as the balance shifted. Billy took control, kissing him hard enough to steal the air from his lungs. Owen hated it, hated losing, hated surrendering, and yet the fire sparking low in his stomach betrayed him, betrayed how much he loved it.
By the time they tore apart just enough to breathe, both men were flushed, their lips swollen and foreheads nearly touching as their chests heaved.
Downstairs, the crew erupted.
Marjan slapped Paul’s arm so hard he yelped. “Did you see that?!” she squeaked.
“Oh my God,” TK blurted, jaw practically on the floor. His phone already in hand to text his fiancé the news.
“They’re kissing,” Mateo said dumbly, like he couldn’t quite process it.
Nancy covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide, but her laughter broke through anyway. “They’re not just kissing, they’re devouring each other!”
Judd muttered a curse under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “Lord help us” He looked like he might march up there anyway, but Tommy’s hand on his arm again kept him in place.
Tommy only raised an eyebrow, lips quirking with the faintest, knowing smile. “Well,” she said evenly. “Took them long enough.”
Above, Owen and Billy remained oblivious, still caught in the pull of each other. Forgetting the three glass walls around them.
The office was thick with tension, the kind that made the air feel electric, sharp in Owen’s lungs with every breath. He hadn’t moved back after the kiss, hell, he couldn’t. Billy was still standing right there, barely an inch between them, with a smirk plastered on his face like he’d won some kind of championship.
“That,” Billy murmured, voice low and smug, “was definitely better than your punch.”
Owen’s lips curled into a scoff, though his pulse still hammered in his throat. “Shut up.”
Billy tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Make me.”
Owen didn’t even think. His hand shot up, fisting Billy’s shirt, pulling him back in as he crashed their mouths together again. This kiss was hungrier, rougher, teeth knocking, and lips bruising. Owen kissed like he fought, like he had to win, but Billy met him just as fiercely, refusing to back down. Their hands roamed, tugging, gripping, and searching for leverage neither wanted to give.
Owen pressed forward, driving Billy backward until the man’s hips hit the edge of the desk with a dull thud. Billy leaned back against it instinctively, and Owen stepped into the space between his legs, closing every inch between them until their bodies pressed flush. The heat of him, solid and steady, made Owen’s head spin in ways he refused to acknowledge.
Between stolen breaths, Owen hissed against his mouth, “This doesn’t mean I like you. You’re still infuriating.”
Billy’s lips curved into that insufferable smirk. His reply was a low rumble that vibrated between them. “Sure.”
The single word, so dismissive, lit a fire in Owen’s chest all over again. He hated the way Billy said it, hated the smug curve of his mouth, hated, most of all that it was true. It made him want to wipe that look off his face. So, he did.
Owen dragged his lips from Billy’s mouth to his jaw, down the line of his neck. He kissed, then bit sharply at the skin there, satisfaction surging through him when Billy’s composure cracked with a rough, unguarded moan.
“God” Billy’s hands tightened on Owen’s shoulders, his nails biting through the fabric. The sound only made Owen smirk against his skin, lingering there to nip again, drawing another ragged sound out of him.
For once, Owen had the upper hand, and he relished it.
They were so caught up in kissing, biting, and breathing each other in, that the glass walls around them didn’t even exist anymore.
But downstairs, the crew hadn’t blinked once.
“Oh my God,” Marjan squeaked, her voice climbing an octave as she clutched Paul’s arm like it might steady her. “They’re, they’re doing this in the office!”
Nancy’s clipboard was forgotten on the floor, her eyes wide, but her grin gave her away. “Not just doing this, they’re practically climbing each other.”
Mateo’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “How? How do you go from shouting at each other to that?!”
TK, arms crossed, looked far calmer, though his lips twitched. “Please this has been building for years.”
Paul smirked, nodding along. “Yep. Knew it was coming. Just took them a long time to stop pretending.”
Marjan gawked at them. “You knew ? And you didn’t tell us?”
Tommy, ever the steady one, spoke up without moving, her voice calm but laced with amusement. “Some things you don’t tell. You just wait for the explosion.”
“Explosion?!” Mateo sputtered, still unable to look away from the sight above. “That’s a detonation. ”
Nancy elbowed him, eyes sparkling. “Not surprised, though. Come on, you didn’t see the way Cap looks at him when he pretends not to?”
Judd still looked like he was on the verge of storming upstairs. His jaw worked, his arms crossed tight over his chest. “This is insane,” he muttered.
Tommy’s hand rested lightly on his arm, a silent anchor. “Leave it. They’re fine.”
“Fine?!” Judd growled, still glaring up at the office. “They’re” He cut himself off, because upstairs, Billy now had Owen pressed against the glass wall as his mouth worked it’s way down his throat like a man set on making a point, and Owen was very much not protesting.
Tommy only arched an eyebrow, that rare little smile tugging at her lips.
Above them, oblivious to their audience, Owen and Billy lost themselves in each other, sparring, kissing, and claiming, like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Owen’s hands slid lower, his fingers tugging at Billy’s belt, working it loose with rough determination. Billy’s smirk widened against his mouth as his own hands moved to Owen’s shirt, popping open the buttons one by one with a deliberate slowness that made Owen growl into the kiss.
It was messy, frantic, and they were far too gone to think about anything outside the little bubble of heat they’d created.
Downstairs, however, the crew stared in open mouthed shock as the line was officially crossed.
“Holy shit, ” Nancy whispered, hands flying up to cover her face though her eyes stayed wide open.
“They’re, oh my God, they’re actually” Mateo stammered, waving his hands like it might help him process what he was seeing.
Marjan slapped his arm hard. “They’ve lost their damn minds! They haven’t even noticed the walls are glass!”
Paul’s eyebrows shot up as he pointed. “How have they not noticed? Cap is literally pressed against one of them and they are about three seconds away from turning this into a live show!”
TK winced. “Yeah, okay, I did not need to see my dad’s hands on Billy Tyson’s belt.”
Tommy, for the first time, looked mildly alarmed. “Alright. Enough’s enough. We need to stop this before HR gets wind of it.”
For a half second, Judd looked like he might actually thank her. He did not need to see two of his close friends getting it on in front of him. “Finally!”
That was all it took. As one, the team bolted for the stairs, their boots pounding against metal and wood as they rushed up to the office.
Inside, Owen had just gotten Billy’s belt undone and his hand halfway into his pants when the sharp rattle of the glass door being pushed open startled them, “Umm, Dad you do realise we could all see you right?” said Tk as he stuck his head in the room. Both men froze like teenagers caught by a parent before they jumped apart, both breathless and dishevelled, and turned toward the door. Finally realizing what they’d been too lost to notice. The entire crew of the 126 stared back at them, wide eyed, and horrified but also amused in some cases.
For one suspended second, no one moved. Then Owen groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck me.”
Billy, still flushed and grinning like a man who’d won the lottery, leaned back against the desk and deadpanned, “I was trying to.”
The absurdity hit like a grenade. The team outside the office burst into laughter so loud it echoed through the bay.
Nancy doubled over, clutching her stomach. Marjan had to grab Paul’s arm to keep from falling over. TK was laughing so hard he wheezed. Mateo looked scandalized and delighted at once, while Tommy just shook her head, lips twitching despite her best efforts to look composed. Even Judd couldn’t help the smirk that made its way to his face even as he groaned at the idea of seeing his best friends getting up to that.
Inside the office, Owen could do nothing but glare at Billy, who was now laughing right along with the rest of them, looking smug, unbothered, and somehow more attractive than ever.
The air in Owen’s office was still thick, heavy with the ghost of what almost happened. Owen’s heart was hammering like he’d just come back from a call, his lips still tingled from the kiss and his shirt, still half open thanks to Billy’s eager hands, was undeniable evidence of just how far things had gone.
The sounds of his team laughing and whispering filtered through the glass door and made Owen squeeze his eyes shut and groan.
He turned toward them, shoulders squared. “Give us a minute,” he ordered, voice stern enough to cut through their amusement.
“Sure, Cap,” TK said far too quickly, now leaning against the wall next to the door with a grin that was identical to his father’s. “But just so you know, we’re waiting right here outside the door. You know, in case you two decide to get lost in each other again.” he teased.
That set the group off again. Marjan slapped a hand over her mouth but couldn’t contain the giggles, Paul doubled over with laughter, and even Tommy let a small, knowing smile curve her lips.
Owen groaned again and muttered, “Unbelievable,” as he shut the office door with a sharp click.
Billy was leaned back against the desk like he owned the place, his belt still undone, hair mussed, and his infuriating smirk firmly in place. He didn’t look embarrassed at all. If anything, he looked pleased.
“Glad you’re taking this seriously,” Owen bit out, pacing behind his desk.
Billy’s eyes followed him lazily, like a cat watching its prey. “What? Come on, New York, you have to admit, this was hilarious. Did you see Judd’s face? He looked like he was about to march up here and drag us apart himself. Priceless.” he chuckled.
“Billy.” Owen’s voice cracked sharp, warning. He stopped pacing and planted his hands on his desk, leaning forward, jaw tight. “I’m usually a very laid back man. I let a lot of things slide around here. But nearly having sex in front of my entire team?” His tone sharpened, each word clipped. “This is not exactly a high point for me.”
Billy’s smile softened just slightly, though the amusement still glimmered in his eyes. He pushed off the desk and stepped closer, tilting his head like he was examining Owen under a microscope. “So that’s what rattles you, huh? Not the kiss. Not me. Just the fact you had an audience.”
Owen’s jaw clenched, his silence answering for him.
Billy chuckled low, shaking his head. “You’ve gotta admit, though, with all the sexual tension between us? It was bound to happen eventually.”
Owen shot him a glare sharp enough to peel paint, but the heat in his cheeks betrayed him. He hated that Billy could read him so easily, hated that he was right. And hated most of all that the man smelled damn good even when he was being insufferable.
Finally, Owen sighed and straightened, tugging at the buttons of his shirt to put himself back together. “We’ll talk about this later. In private.”
Billy arched a brow, his smirk turning slow and deliberate. “Later, then. After work. I’ll swing by yours.”
“Fine,” Owen muttered.
They walked out of the office together, although Owen was trying to put physical distance between them, Billy continued strolling casually at his side, looking every bit like a man who’d gotten exactly what he wanted.
The crew was waiting for them, lined up like an honour guard, but one with terrible self control.
“Well, look who’s back,” Marjan teased, arms crossed, a smug tilt to her head.
“Behave,” Owen ordered immediately, pointing a warning finger at them like they were children caught red handed.
Nancy’s grin was wicked. “We’ll try, Cap. No promises.”
Judd muttered under his breath, “Gonna need holy water for what I saw,” while Mateo whispered to Paul, “Do you think HR has forms for this?”
By the time they reached the doors, Owen’s ears were red hot. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, but he could hear every muffled laugh and whispered comment behind him.
Billy slowed by his truck, leaning against the driver’s side door like he had all the time in the world. Owen opened his mouth to get the goodbye over with quickly, but Billy beat him to it.
“Later Pretty boy.” Billy said, smirk tugging wider, his voice pitched low so only Owen could hear.
“Billy” Owen muttered pretending to be annoyed, the flush to his cheeks gave him away though. Before Billy could add some smug parting shot, he shut the door for him.
As Billy’s truck rolled away, the dam broke.
“So, Cap,” Paul called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Was that a team building exercise? Cause if so, I think you overshot the mark.”
Nancy was doubled over laughing, wheezing out, “I’ll never unsee that.”
Marjan fanned herself dramatically. “If that’s how you two argue, I need to start selling tickets.”
Mateo blinked innocently. “Should I start planning the wedding, or?”
And worst of all, TK’s grin was wide enough to split his face. “Thank God, by the way. I’ve been telling Carlos for months that you had unresolved sexual tension with Billy.”
Owen groaned so loudly it echoed through the bay. “I should’ve transferred to another station when I had the chance.”
Their laughter chased him all the way back upstairs. Later he would figure out what he was doing with Billy and where he wanted this to go but for now, he sat at his desk, pulled up his work and pretended that the last hour had never happened.