Page 42 of Controlled Burn
Reyes nodded and backed off. "Alright. Just checking."
Dean watched him go, jaw tight.
This house didn't need more noise. It needed control."
Station Inspection — Later That Morning
The battalion chief showed up fifteen minutes early. Brent let out a low whistle as he tossed his towel onto the engine's bumper.
"Well, shit," he muttered. "You'd think they'd at least wait till after breakfast to throw shade."
Talia rolled her hose beside him, sweat sliding down her spine. "Maybe they're here to congratulate us for not blowing anything up this week."
Brent chuckled. "That'd be a first."
He was easy to work with — dry-humored, engine-obsessed, the kind of guy who trusted the job but didn't take it too seriously. Talia liked that about him.
"Keep an eye on that cross-threaded coupling on the second line," he murmured. "Wouldn't want Chief Stark getting twitchy."
"Got it."
The bay quieted as boots approached — Battalion Chief Stark, radio in hand, eyes sharp as razors. Watts hovered behind him, tight-lipped and eager.
Dean stood at parade rest, posture rigid, scanning the scene like a general pre-battle.
His gaze flicked to Cross just as Stark paused. She stood tall, jaw locked, but he caught the subtle shift in her spine. He hated that he noticed. Hated more that he cared.
Ryan flanked him near the aerial, calm and centered.
Stark moved through the station — equipment room, turnout lockers, and medical storage — inspecting tags, hygiene, and inventory. Everything spotless. Everyone tense.
Talia stood by the engine as Stark circled.
"Looks squared away," he said finally. "But I'm not just looking for neat. I'm looking for discipline."
He turned to face them.
"I want to know this station runs tight. That your team is focused. No distractions."
Talia felt that word land like a stone.
Dean didn't flinch. "We're clear on expectations, sir."
Stark stared a second longer, then nodded and moved on.
As they passed, Watts leaned in and whispered something into Stark's ear. His gaze lingered on Talia before he turned.
She didn't breathe until they were gone. But it didn't feel like relief. Her skin still crawled from Stark's stare. She didn't need to hear what Watts said — she already knew it was about her.
Beside her, Ryan muttered, "That woman needs a hobby."
Talia snorted. "Preferably one that doesn't involve my file."
"Don't let her get in your head," he said, bumping her shoulder. "You're solid. You've proved that a dozen times over."
"You okay?" Brent asked quietly, once Watts vanished. "You looked like you wanted to torch someone earlier."
Talia forced a breath. "Long morning."
