#the only one that I can think of is that polis 433 or whatever but I think that's on permanent hiatus

[butmakeitgayblog]

Are we gonna talk about firelady Alice? and the sudden need I have to look for any Firelady Lexa inspired fics.

I know you must be out there fanmade calendar and I’mma find you 🫵🏻

Oh bitch when I saw that I immediately grabbed it. I have no idea what is going on but I also dgaf. I guess Alice grows up to be a firefighter????? If there's a god???? Would go till the harness fell off that's all I know idc idc

[ecfandom]

Would you give us a preview of the next chapter of Polis 433? Pleaseee 😁

Okay:

Lexa and the guys are out back at the mounted basketball hoop for a blissful, unheard of two hours before a call comes in and shatters the illusion of a slow, peaceful afternoon. Luckily, they don’t have to go far. The familiar house is just around the corner, and Lexa finds herself biting back a smile as she hops off the truck and walks towards the elderly woman hobbling out of her front door.

“Mrs. Jenkins,” she calls out in greeting.

“Oh, Alexa, thank goodness you’re here. I cannot find my medicine!”

Lexa meets the elderly woman halfway up the front walk and lets her grab onto her arm for balance. “Now, you know you’re only supposed to call us in an emergency, Mrs. Jenkins.”

“What do you think this is?” The woman says incredulously. “If I don’t take my medicine, I am going to die!”

Lexa chuckles and guides the woman back towards the house. “You’re not going to die.”

“It’s for my blood pressure!”

“I know that, but you’re not going to die if you miss a dose. Come on, let’s go look for it.”

“Cap?” Roan calls after her.

She turns to them and gestures to the truck. “Head out. I’ll meet you back at the station. Roan, be me while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a teasing grin and rounds the guys up. “See you back, cap.”

Lexa helps the woman up the stairs and sits her down in a rocking chair on the front porch as she usually does.

“Where did you last have your medicine?”

“Same place as always!”

“The second drawer to the right of the sink?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, can I go in and look around?”

“You better, Alexa!”

“Mrs. J, you know you can call me Lexa.”

“I’m going to call a proper young lady such as yourself by her proper name, Alexa. Now, get to it. I’m not getting any younger.”

With a chuckle, Lexa pats the woman on the shoulder and heads inside. She checks the usual spots--by the stove, under the fridge, in the bathroom--but for once, she can’t seem to track the bottle down. She stands in the living room, trying to figure out what the old woman had been up to based on the remnant left behind. There’s a TV Dinner on the table next to the rocking chair—probably an early lunch. She walks over to it and runs her hand through the cracks in the cushions. Nothing. She checks under the coffee, but still no luck. For minutes, she searches, determined to find the bottle she’s usually able to track down. Eventually, she has to admit defeat. She heads back down the hall to the front door.

“Mrs. J?”

“Did you find it?”

Lexa steps back onto the porch and frowns apologetically. “It seems to be quite lost this time.”

“What am I going to do?”

“We’re going to take you to the pharmacy to get you a refill. Where do you get your prescriptions?”

“The hospital. But I’m not allowed to drive.”

“I’m going to drive you. Where are your keys?”

Lexa is always a little amazed at how such an old woman manages to have the energy to say so much in so little time. Mrs. Jenkins’ prattling is as good as the radio when it comes to entertainment, providing a steady stream of amusing and useless information Lexa never knew she needed until the moment the widower started speaking.

Mrs. Jenkin’s car is much like its owner in that way. It’s a stick shift, something Lexa hadn’t driven in the years since leaving her job at the shop, but it comes back to her like riding a bike, and puts a smile on her face. She hadn’t realized she’d missed the sensation until now, and the memories it brings up. Ist makes her think that maybe she will go to Gus’ BBQ, regardless of Anya’s schedule.

“You know Alexa, you really should wear something more flattering than those cargo pants if you want to find yourself a wife anytime soon.”

Lexa laughs and nearly runs a stop sign she is so taken aback by the comment. “I’m on duty, Mrs. J. You know I don’t wear these all the time, right?”

“I should hope not.”

“Some girls like a gal in uniform.”

“Not that kind of uniform, doll.”

Lexa just grins and pulls into the Hospital’s visitor lot.

Across town, Raven stares up at the police station set up and away from the street. Usually, Raven Reyes stops for nothing. She hadn’t come this far in life by taking the easy road. The deep, seemingly endless stairs up the the police station, however, proved to be worth the hesitation.

She practically growls at the still defunct ADA ramp-- rendered useless last winter when a drunk driver plowed into it-- and walks over to the railing to lean on. One of these days she’ll figure out how to expand her brace’s range of motion without compromising it’s stability, but in the meantime, she hikes her hip and throws her leg onto the first step.

It’s a process, but one she has perfected and she’s up the stairs eventually. That doesn’t, however, mean that she is not incredibly grumpy and sweaty when she finally walks into the precinct.

“You need to oil that thing, Reyes, I can hear you coming from a mile away” the desk sergeant, a wiry, young man named John, glares at her without bothering to look up from his paperwork.

“And you can fuck right off, Murphy.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.”

“You’d know, sweetheart. How ‘bout you get that fucking ramp fixed and we can talk about just how bright and happy I am. Is ADA compliance a foreign concept to you people or are you just too ignorant to care?”

“You’re not a cripple. Use the stairs.”

“Wow, um okay, I don’t even know where to start with how obscenely offensive that was. Me, a person with a disability, gets to call myself cripple, if I want. You, a person with no disability other than your startling inability to use use common decency, does not get to pass judgement on whatever accessibility differences you may or may not perceive me to have. Your stupidity is confounding, Murphy, honestly.”

Murphy grunts. “Well,what do you want?”

“Jaha here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I want to slice his ear off and feed it to my dog? Why do you think? I want to talk to him.”

“Why is everything so violent with you?”

“You make me violent. Now shut up and tell him to come out here.”

“You do realize you just told a cop to shut up.”

“You’re barely a cop, Murph. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m barely disabled. Guess we’re even.”

“Murphy!” A new voice booms around the room. “What the hell is taking so long on that report? I asked for it on Thursday.”   A woman, roughly the size of a skyscraper, rounds the corner in black combat boots and a scowl to match. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to a civilian”

Raven barks out an incredulous laugh. “A civilian? You a soldier now, Murph?”

“Who the hell are you?” The woman quickly snaps her attention to Raven, bearing an insane glare.

Raven does not gulp, but if her breath shakes more than normal, well who the hell is going to blame her? This woman is a nightmare of perfection. She straightens up.  “Raven Reyes. Who the hell are you?” She puts on her best glare in return and sizes the woman up. She doesn’t hate what she sees.

The woman, infuriatingly, intoxicatingly, looks her up and down once and turns back to Murphy. “I want that report done by lunch. Can you handle that, John?”

John grumbles under his breath and Raven watches on in amused awe as the woman asks hims if he wants to repeat that, and walks off when all he does is shake his head and fuss with the papers on his desk.

“Okay….who the fuck was that and how do I marry her?”

“Don’t bother,” John grumbles. “Can’t make someone have feelings for you if they don’t have any feelings to begin with.”

“Okay, well first of all, you don’t make people have feelings for you, John. That could maybe be why you haven’t had a date in the time that I’ve known you. Second of all, she clearly does have feelings. They’re just not so much your speed. My radar, on the other hand, reads her loud and clear.”

“You are so fucking weird, Reyes.”

“Back atcha, killer. So, who was that?”

“She’s a fire marshall. You haven’t seen her around before?”

“Jesus, the fire chicks in this town are insane. You guys putting something in your water?”

“What?”

“Forget it. What’s her name?”

“Seriously, you don’t know her?”

“Murphy, why would I?”

“I mean, you diffuse bombs, she solves fires or whatever. You run in the same circles, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s not quite how that works. But believe you me, it’s about to.”

“Why, because she chewed me out? Is that what turns you on, Reyes? If so, you should hang around more often.”

Raven laughs. “Oh, don’t wallow, John. It doesn’t suit you.  I still need to talk to Wells. You gonna tell him to come out here or what?”

“You heard her. I have shit to do. Just go back there yourself.”

“Aw, you gonna buzz me in?”

He rolls his eyes and gestures her past the desk. “Obviously. Please. Go. Get out of my face before she comes back.”

She slides past him and down the short hallway to the locked door leading to the bullpen. “If she does, tell her I think she’s hot,” she calls back.

“You have everything you need?” Lexa asks, walking Mrs. Jenkins up to the long line at pharmacy window.

“I think so. Is this right?”

Lexa takes her glasses out of her breast pocket and eyes the prescription slip. “Looks good. Got your ID?”

“In my purse.”

“Good. You’re all set then. I’ll just wait back here, okay?”

“Why don’t you be a doll and get us something to drink while we wait?” Mrs. Jenkins pulls out her wallet, but Lexa smiles and gently pushes it back.

“Hang onto that. I’ll grab us something. Don’t go anywhere.”

Lexa feels more at home in the hospital than she probably should, but it’s not a terrible feeling. The faces are friendly and familiar, the food isn’t half as bad as everyone makes it out to be, and she appreciates all the windows and the light they let in. For such an awful place, it’s a surprisingly peaceful place to be during the day.

There is a sense of belonging for her here. She knows the hallways well, where every turn leads, where the faster elevators are, what double doors to avoid to evade being smacked in the face when they fly open with an oncoming gourney. She knows where the interns hide out for lunch, and tosses them a candy bar when she has one. The Physical Therapy ward might as well be home away from home by now, though her therapist transferred hospitals several years back. For all there is to hate about the hospital, Lexa finds something to love.

She’s lost in her own thoughts when she rounds the corner and nearly topples over a tiny wheelchair.

A warm hand clutches her elbow and helps steady her, laughing all the while.

“You’re awfully clumsy for a firefighter.” Dr. Jane Thompson, a woman as sharp as a scalpel and as sweet as the butterfly pin on her white coat, dusts Lexa off with a smile and shakes her head. “Haven’t seen you around here in awhile.”

“I’ve been around.”

“Just avoiding me then?”

“I don’t spend much time in Peds, believe it or not,” Lexa teases casually, like an old friend. “I’m just headed to the caf. Thought I’d take a short cut.”

“Ah. After those jello cups, huh?”

“A drink, actually.”

Dr. Thompson hums. Then, “How’ve you been, Lex?”

“Good, good. You know. Keeping busy.” Lexa shoves her hands in her pockets and rocks back on her heels. It’s not that talking to her ex makes her nervous per say--enough time has passed to make their friendship easy and unassuming--it’s just that there’s history here. History that once did not look fondly on their relationship.

“I think this may be against the rules, but you are still so cute when you’re shy.”

Lexa gives a huff of a laugh and shakes her head, eyes on the floor. “Definitely against the rules.”

“Friends don’t say that to each other?”

“Definitely not.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“It’s been a couple years, so yeah, I think I can. I think Greg would too.” Lexa looks up and grins. Jane was lovely for a time, but they were never meant to last, and they both knew it. It was bittersweet. For two people so naturally generous with their hearts when it came to everyone else,  they just never could seem to make it click with each other.  When Lexa found Jane in an on-call room with Greg six months into their relationship, she could barely bring herself to care. She knew it’d been over before that, but that day--with Greg’s hand down her girlfriend’s scrubs and only a guilty sense of relief flooding through Lexa, she’d known they’d hit their point of no return.  

“Greg’s an idiot. You were always the real catch. I messed that one up.” Jane says it with a teasing smile, but Lexa can still read her like she once could, and there’s a sincerity to Jane’s words that makes her skin crawl. They’d been over and done with for years. Now seemed like a strange time to be rehashing things.

“Water under the bridge,” Lexa says, flippant as she can. “Greg’s great.”

Jane smiles, almost dreamy. “Yeah, he is.” Lexa smiles at the way Jane fondly plays with the wedding ring on her finger. “I suppose I’m just feeling a little possessive.”

“Possessive?”

“Yeah. There’s a new girl in our department. It’s been going around that she has the hots for you.”

Lexa very nearly chokes on her own inhale. “In your...in Peds?”

“Mhm. She’s cute too. And real sweet. I think you’d like her.”

Lexa nods casually, tries to at least. “That’s interesting. She a doctor or?”

“A nurse.”

“A nur--wow,” Lexa puffs out her cheeks with an exhale and rocks back onto her heels again before clunking forward. “What’s uh...what’s her name?”

“You interested?”

“What, me? No. No, I’m just curious.”

“Uh huh. Her name’s Lucy. She’s a NICU nurse.”

“Oh.” Lexa does her best not to deflate. But if she can still read Jane, Jane must see through her like plastic wrap.

Jane smirks. “Oh my god, you already have a crush on someone in my department, don’t you?”

Lexa scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t...I don’t have a crush. You just said. I mean, you said. You brought it up.”

“What’s her name.”

“Seriously, Jane--”

“What’s her name, hot stuff. Cough it up.”

“You are way off this time, Jay. I really don’t know what--”

“Lexa?” Clarke’s voice cuts her off mid-sentence and Lexa turns her head so quickly, she feels the muscles in the side of her neck strain.

“Clarke, hey.” It’s not supposed to sound so breathless, but god it does, and she can practically feel Jane’s smirk burning a hole through the side of her face.

Clarke takes a hesitant step forward. “Are you two done? I can wait, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Jane finally sets her sights off of Lexa and turns to Clarke. “No, I was just leaving. By the way, thanks for your help in the OR today. I know it’s supposed to be your day off, but you were clutch.”

“Oh.” Clarke waves her off. “No problem. Thanks for letting me scrub in.”

“Happy to. You’d make a great surgeon, I think. You ever consider going to med school?”

Lexa watches Clarke smile politely but uncomfortably as she shrugs and searches for something to say, and Lexa just can’t help herself.

“Nurses are important too, and Clarke’s an amazing nurse,” she blurts. She just barely keeps herself from clutching at her own mouth in shocked embarrassment. Clarke looks up at her with a furrowed brow and confused smile while Jane actually snorts as she rolls her eyes. She pats Clarke on the shoulder with a quick, “come find me later,” and walks away, but not without stopping behind the nurse and mouthing an “oh my god,” for Lexa’s eyes only. She gives her a thumbs up and a wink, and if it weren’t for Clarke staring up at her, Lexa would be giving Jane her own kind of finger up in return.

“Do you two know each other?”

“What?” Lexa draws her eyes away from Jane’s retreating figure and almost startles to find those familiar, yet indecipherable blue eyes staring back at her.

“You and Dr. Thompson?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah a little bit. We dated a few years back.”

“I’d say that’s more than a little bit,” Clarke says with a chuckle that is not quite as carefree as it usually is.

“It was a long time ago. We’re basically strangers these days. I don’t come to this side of the hospital often.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Uh, well--” Lexa scratches at her neck and shrugs. “Sick babies make me sad.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Clarke laughs, and some of that easy way about her starts to return.

An awkward silence settles over them for a moment before Clarke picks it up. “So what brings you to this side of the hospital? Everything okay?”

“Oh, totally. I was headed to the cafeteria. Took the shortcut.”

“Wow. You know the secret shortcut. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, well. The PT wing is just over there and I’ve spent my fair share of time there.”

“That makes sense.”  

Before Lexa’s quite sure what’s happening, Clarke is taking her jaw between her fingers and turning her head to the side, not hard, but not quite gentle.

“This is on its way to infected,” she says sternly and it takes Lexa a second to figure out that Clarke is referring to the gash on her neck she’d almost forgotten about.

“Oh, it’s--it’s fine, it’s just a little--”

“Look up.”

“Okay,” Lexa breathes. She does as she’s told, looking away to stare at the wall when Clarke lifts to her toes and leans into her space for a better look.

“This is deep, Lexa. I need to clean this.”

“No, really. That’s okay,” Lexa nearly squeaks. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears and her head is too light to keep her grounded. She sucks in her lower lip and does her best to stay upright when Clarke hooks her fingers into Lexa’s uniform polo and peels it away from the crook of her neck.

“It’s bleeding.”

“Yeah, uh, it’s been doing that. But look, I’ve actually got someone waiting on me in the other wing. I was getting her a drink. She’s very old. Very fragile. I don’t want her to--”

“She’s in a hospital, Lexa, I think she’ll manage without you for five minutes. Come on. I’m not gonna ask twice.”

The exam room is small and quiet, the noises of the hospital muffled by the closed door and Clarke’s steady breathing in Lexa’s ear as she skillfully pushes a needle and surgical thread through Lexa’s skin. For her part, Lexa tries to stay calm, clenching her fists against her thighs and counting tiles on the ceiling.

“How’d this happen?”

“We had a bad fire yesterday.”

“I figured as much. I meant, what happened?”

Lexa goes to shrug, but it pulls on Clarke’s work and she hisses at the sting.

“Ouch, you’re okay,” Clarke soothes, pressing her cold, gloved palm to the wound firmly to take the edge off. When Lexa relaxes, she continues her work. “You were inside?”

“Yeah.” Lexa takes a deep breath, already on her way to exhausted at having to keep her cool. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of stitches she’s had in her lifetime, and yet it never seemed to get easier to bear them.

“You okay?”

“Not a fan of needles.”

“I’m almost done.”

Lexa nods and once again regrets her thoughtless actions. It tugs and Clarke clucks at her, not taking her eyes off her task. “Try to stay still.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t think about the needle. Tell me about your day. Who are you here with?”

“Mrs. Jenkins. She lives down the road from the station. Sort of the same as you, but on the other side.”

“On Robinson.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s she like?”

“Her husband died a few years back and she’s taken to calling the station every time she loses her medicine. I drove her here to get her prescription refilled. I think she gets lonely.” Lexa can’t see the way Clarke smiles and almost seems to pause for a moment.

“You’re sweet,” Clarke muses softly after a second.

“I enjoy her company too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She has lots of good stories.”

“I bet she does. Can you look that way for a second? I’m almost done.”

Lexa turns her head and renews her study of the exam room’s bland features. She reads through the Ear Infection Symptoms sign by the door, skims the titles of the pamphlets on the counter. Her eyes flutter shut each time Clarke’s fingers skim the sensitive skin of her neck, too distracted at first to mention the numbing agent’s dissipation, too shy now having gotten this far into it. It’s good enough to curb the sting, but Lexa feels every press of Clarke’s cold fingers.

“So that fire.”

“Mmm.”

“What got you? Wood, metal?”

“I, uh...I’m not sure.”

“I ask because I need to know whether or not to give you a tetanus shot.”

Lexa clears her throat to hide her nerves. “Wood, I believe.”

Clarke rolls away on her stool and grabs a bandage. When she rolls back, she hesitates in front of Lexa, studying her. “You’re not lying to me, are you? Avoiding a shot because of the needle?”

Lexa shakes her head earnestly, reveling in Clarke’s responding smile.

“You sure?”

“It came from above. Looked like a support beam. Those are almost always wood.”

“You have lots of experience getting hit with falling beams?”

Lexa smiles when Clarke grins. She lifts her chin when Clarke goes to apply the bandage, chewing down onto her bottom lip when the press of it burns a little. “I’ve seen a lot of buildings come down, I guess,” she says.

Clarke nods and rolls back to the counter. She’s strangely quiet as she peels off her gloves and discards everything into the waste bin. She stands and Lexa watches her curiously, letting her have her apparent, sudden need for space as she fills out some form.

“I would do this pro bono if I could,” Clarke says at last, still not looking up at her. “But that’d likely get me fired. Your insurance should take care of it, though.”

“I’m not worried.”

Still, Clarke doesn’t look at her, not until Lexa nudges the stool forward with her toe, gently bumping it into Clarke’s leg. Clarke looks over at her quickly, then away again. “I gave you absorbable stitches. They’ll dissolve and fall out on their own in about three weeks.”

“Clarke--”

“Keep them dry for the next forty-eight hours. After that, you can shower with them. Just be gentle and--”

“Clarke.”

“Yes?”

Lexa smiles softly and stands. She risks a step forward and feels a little triumphant when Clarke doesn’t retreat. She reaches past Clarke and takes the form, rolling it up in her hands. “This isn’t my first rodeo,” she says gently.

“Right. Or course not.” Clarke pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and turns back to the counter, fiddling with the jars of cotton swabs and tongue depressors.

“Thank you.”

Clarke nods, back still turned. “Just, uh. Just try to be careful, okay? No more falling beams.” She turns and Lexa watches her falter at the realization of how close they’d become. Lexa steps back and tips the rolled up form in thanks.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Yeah, good. Good.” Clarke steps out of the way and gestures to the door. “Say hello to your friend for me.”

“I will.”

“You can blame me for your absence.”

“I will,” Lexa repeats and grins when Clarke chuckles and shoves her hands into her scrubs. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. We need to schedule that coffee.”

“Right. Next week?”

“I’m sure that will work.”

“Great.”

Lexa stands in the doorway a moment longer, her lip between her teeth in barely restrained excitement at having been around Clarke for so long, uninterrupted. With a final nod, she turns and leaves. She’s almost to the end of the hall when Clarke calls out and comes jogging up behind her.

“Hey,” Clarke says a little breathless.

“Hey.”

“I was just wondering what you’re doing later.”

“Oh. Uh...today?”

Clarke nods.

“I’m working. One of my lieutenants is out with a cold, so I’ve got his shift after mine.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“Did you need something? Is your car okay?”

“Oh no. The car’s fine. It’s great, actually. Thanks again.”

“Sure, yeah. Of course. Ellie’s...she’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s good. Terrible, but good. It’s nothing bad. I actually--I just have a little thing I’m throwing tonight, around seven. Nothing big, just.” Clarke shrugs.

“Oh. Fun.”

“Yeah, you know. A few friends. Food and drinks, some volleyball.”

“That sounds awesome. I’m sorry to have to miss. Assuming that was an invitation?”

“Oh, yeah.” Clarke laughs. “I’m sorry, that was totally an invitation. I told you. Social skills.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder, “out the window.” She laughs awkwardly.

“I’m working til about eight tonight, but maybe next time.”

“Sure, yeah. There will be more.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Great.”

They stand there, Clarke with her hands in her pockets, Lexa scratching at the back of her neck, unsure of how to part ways again.

“So--”

“I’ll see you--”

They both chuckle, amused and embarrassed at themselves.

“I should go. Mrs. Jenkins…”

“Yeah, of course. Please.”

Lexa grins. “I’ll see you later, Clarke.”

Clarke gives her a wave and Lexa is retreating again, not entirely against the idea of Clarke stopping her again. Clarke doesn’t, however, and Lexa finds Mrs. Jenkins in the ER lobby waiting room, deeply engrossed in a well-worn People magazine.

She curses under her breath when she realizes she’d forgotten the drink she originally set out to get, and runs over to a vending machine before re-approaching, an apology on the tip of her tongue. Before she can speak though, the old woman beats her to it.

“There you are. Have fun?”

“What?”

Mrs. Jenkins lowers the magazine and peers at Lexa over her glasses. “Did you have fun with that pretty nurse?”

“I--”

“I may be old, Alexa, but I am not dull.”

“Of course you’re not.” Lexa holds out the bottle of water and extends her arm when Mrs. Jenkins moves to get up.

“Did she like the uniform?”

Lexa laughs as they leave the waiting room. If she happens to blush bright red, Mrs. Jenkins (for once in her life) keeps quiet about it.

“Wells! Buddy, ‘ol pal!”

Wells Jaha, lead detective for the Polis Police Department and best friend to Clarke, swivels around on his chair, grinning at Raven’s approach.  “Wow. Special occasion. What’s Counter Terrorism want with little old me?”

“I come as the platonic lover of your best friend, godmother to a third of your goddaughter.” She smiles devilishly and sits down in a chair at the unoccupied desk next to his. “I’m here as a friend. Forget titles.”

Wells shakes his head and leans back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

“A little birdie told me your captain is putting together a joint task force to look into that string of bomb threats down the coast.”

Wells sits up abruptly, looking around. “Who told you that?”

“I just told you. A little birdie.”

“Seriously, Reyes.” He stands and beckons her into a holding room, closing the door. “That task force is being headed up by the FBI,” he hisses. “No one should know about it.”

“Well then, you guys need to get a lot better at keeping your secrets a secret.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Don’t look so shocked. I started in Air Force intelligence. I know my way around snooping.”

Wells runs his hand over his face and looks at the closed door. “Tell me who told you and I’ll consider whatever your impossible ask is about to be.”

“I’m not gonna do that, but what I will do is promise that the leak never leads back to you.”

“Reyes--”

“Come on, Jaha,” Raven pleads. “You owe me.”

Wells looks away with a frustrated scowl. Raven was right. He’d gotten stuck on a case a few months ago, no more evidence to move him forward. The perp was former Air Force, and it had been Raven’s discovery of an invaluable clue that had propelled Wells to crack it. It got him a promotion to boot.

“What’s the ask?” He grumbles reluctantly.

“I want on.”

He scoffs.

“I’m serious. Come on, you and I both know I’m the best bomb specialist in New England. Only reason Roland hasn’t asked me himself is because of my flare up.”

“Maybe he has a point. You’re supposed to be letting that heal, not jumping onto a task force.”

“The knee is fine, and they need my brain,” Raven says. “I’m just asking for a nudge.”

Wells leans back onto the lone desk in the room. “What makes you think a nudge from me means anything?”

“Because you’re sleeping with that pretty FBI agent from Westbrook.”

“And?”

“And she’s Roland’s niece.”

“How the hels do you know that?” Wells asks, astonished.

Raven waggles her eyebrows, but offers nothing else.

Wells sighs and stands. “I’ll drop your name. That’s all I can do.”

“I’ll take it.” She follows him out of the room, her hand coming to his shoulder in a brotherly pat when they stop at his desk. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

“I’m bringing the beer.”

“Great.” She gives him a lazy salute and starts to leave. “Oh wait,” she stops and turns.

“No more asks, Reyes.”

“This one’s harmless, I promise.”

He raises his brow. That’s doubtful.

“Do you know an Anya?”

“Anya Woods?”

“She a fire marshall?”

“Yeah.”

Raven nods, thinking.

“Why?”

“You like her?”

Wells shrugs. “She’s good people. You need her?”

“Nope. Just curious.” She starts to go.

“You’re never just curious,” Wells calls after her.

“I am for now.”

“You’re up to no good, Reyes. I’m calling it.”

She laughs. “I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late, Clarke’s stressed.”

“When is she not?”

Raven just waves and retreats out the door.