Kenna stirred, eyelids heavy, and the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee nudged her from sleep. Her body ached in all the right ways from the night before, and a small smile tugged at her lips as she realized she wasn't alone.

She blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before her eyes caught movement—and then she caught sight of Bobby, shirt slightly rumpled, hair messy, leaning over the tray he'd carefully balanced on the bed.

"Morning, beautiful," he murmured, voice low and warm. "Thought I'd make you breakfast. You've earned it."

Kenna's eyes narrowed playfully, stretching just enough to test the bed, then letting out a soft laugh. "Is this your way of getting me to forgive you for making me wait all morning?" she teased, her voice husky.

Bobby smirked, setting the tray down beside her and crawling closer. "Maybe," he said, leaning in so their foreheads brushed. "Or maybe it's just that I like seeing you like this."

Her fingers found his chest through the cotton of his shirt, teasing him as she propped herself up on one elbow. "Seeing me like what?" she asked, voice dipping lower, a playful edge to it.

"Like mine," he replied, his hands trailing over her sides, slowly, teasingly. "Mine to wake up with, mine to kiss, mine to... take my time with."

Kenna shivered, tilting her head back slightly, letting him see the reaction he loved so much. "Bobby..." she breathed, a mix of frustration and longing. "I'm hungry, but..." Her hands slid down to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants lightly, testing his resolve.

He chuckled low in his throat, leaning down to press a long, slow kiss to her neck. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured against her skin. "But maybe we can... have dessert first."

Kenna gasped softly, arching into him as he kissed lower, teasing and pressing, the morning sun spilling across their bodies. Her hands roamed freely, undoing buttons, tugging him closer. Every touch was deliberate, slow, dragging out the tension until it hummed between them like electricity.

"Bobby..." she whispered again, voice trembling, lips brushing his jaw. "We're supposed to be eating..."

"We can eat," he breathed, pressing a kiss to her lips that quickly became more demanding. "But I've got a better menu in mind."

Her laugh turned into a moan as he explored her with a hunger that matched her own, teasing, testing, drawing them closer until it was impossible to tell where breakfast ended and desire began.

And there, in the quiet of their apartment, morning sunlight filtering in, Kenna and Bobby let everything else wait—just for a little while longer.

Kenna's lips were still tingling from Bobby's kisses when he pressed himself closer, letting the warmth of his body blanket hers. The tray of breakfast sat forgotten on the nightstand—eggs and bacon abandoned—because nothing in the world mattered but this moment.

Her hands roamed over him greedily, tugging at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up just enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin. Bobby groaned low, pressing his hips against hers in a deliberate tease, and she arched, letting the friction and anticipation coil tight in her belly.

"You're impossible," she murmured, breath hitching as his lips trailed down her neck, teeth grazing, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin there.

"I'm yours," he whispered, pausing to meet her gaze, eyes dark, almost molten. "And I've been thinking about this all morning... about you... about every inch of you."

Kenna swallowed hard, shivering as his hands moved lower, tracing the curve of her hips, teasing just at the edge of what she craved. "Bobby... please..." Her voice broke slightly, soft but urgent, and it sent a shiver straight through him.

He grinned against her skin, slow, deliberate, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. "Hmm... I think you're enjoying this a little too much," he murmured, teasing, pressing his thumb just so, drawing her flush and arch.

Kenna gasped, pressing her forehead to his chest, breath hot and rapid. "I can't... I want... you..." she whispered desperately, words tumbling out in a rush. "I need you, Bobby."

And he didn't make her wait. Hands firm, lips demanding, he moved in closer, sliding over her, grounding her against him while tracing the curves and planes of her body like he'd memorized them. Every touch, every kiss was slow and sensual, building tension that hummed like electricity between them.

She tilted her hips, matching his, letting him feel the heat, the ache she had carried for hours, teasing him with tiny presses, gentle grinds, dragging out every delicious second. Bobby's groan vibrated through her, deep and raw, matching her own rising moans.

"Kenna... god..." he whispered, voice husky, almost lost in the haze of desire. "You drive me insane..."

She laughed breathlessly against his lips, teeth grazing softly, and he groaned again, tipping her back gently onto the bed, trailing kisses down her collarbone, over her chest, lingering in places that made her arch involuntarily.

"Bobby..." she whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "Don't stop..."

"I don't want to," he promised, moving slow, savoring her, teasing, letting every sensation build, letting her melt into him, every gasp, every moan, every shiver a symphony he was composing.

The morning light danced across their skin as they lost themselves entirely—teasing, touching, kissing—every slow movement pushing them higher, closer, until the world outside ceased to exist. Nothing but heat, desire, and the pure, intoxicating intimacy of them together.

Bobby's lips trailed lower, teasing over every inch of Kenna's skin, hands firm but gentle, memorizing every curve as if he could never get enough. She writhed beneath him, gasping, moaning, every sound drawing him closer, making him ache to feel her entirely.

Her hands fisted in his hair, tugging him closer as his lips pressed against hers again, teeth grazing softly, tongues brushing, tasting, teasing. Every kiss was slow, deliberate, hot, and hungry, dragging out the tension until it was nearly unbearable.

"Bobby..." she breathed, voice trembling, hips arching instinctively as he pressed against her, teasingly, just enough to make her ache for more. "I... need..."

"I know, baby," he murmured against her skin, voice deep, rough with desire. "I want you... all of you..."

His hands slid over her body, over every curve, every sensitive spot, and Kenna shivered violently, feeling herself melt under his touch. Her breath hitched as he teased and caressed, every movement designed to make her gasp, moan, lose herself completely.

She tugged at his shirt, trying to press him fully against her, to feel every part of him. "Bobby... please... don't stop..."

He grinned against her skin, pressing slow, languid kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, tracing her curves with teasing precision, feeling her respond to every touch. "Never... gonna stop, Kenna," he whispered, voice thick with need. "Not until you're mine... all the way..."

Her hands roamed his back, over the planes of his muscles, pulling him closer, arching, gasping, losing herself in him, in the heat, in the sensation of being wanted, desired, loved.

Every brush, every graze of skin on skin was electric, sending sparks through her, leaving her breathless, moaning, trembling with need. Bobby moved with her, teasing, slowing, then building again, every movement deliberate, sensual, designed to drive her insane with want.

"Bobby... oh god... I can't... I—" she gasped, nails tracing the line of his spine as he kissed, licked, touched, every movement precise, exquisite, almost cruel in how it built her tension higher and higher.

He groaned low, deep, pressing himself fully against her, holding her close, whispering her name, moaning as he felt her respond, melt, writhe. Every movement was a conversation, a tease, a promise, and Kenna could only clutch him tighter, lose herself entirely in the sensation of being utterly, completely his.

The heat between them built, thick and suffocating, every touch, every kiss, every whispered word pushing them to the brink, until it was too much to hold, too much to resist. They melted together, completely consumed, skin on skin, breath mingling, hearts racing, every sensation intensified, every moan a symphony of need and desire.

And in that small, intimate space, nothing else existed—no world, no worries, no calls or alarms—just Kenna and Bobby, completely entwined, lost in each other, pushing boundaries, exploring, teasing, surrendering.

Bobby's hands were everywhere—trailing over her, gripping, teasing, holding, memorizing. Kenna's breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps as she arched into him, every nerve alive with need, every inch of her skin aching for more.

"Bobby..." she moaned, voice trembling, almost lost in the haze of sensation. "Please... I... I can't... I'm—"

"You're mine," he whispered, voice low, thick with desire, pressing himself closer, lips brushing hers in frantic, scorching kisses that stole her words, leaving only moans and shivers in their place. "All of you... all of this..."

She clutched his back, nails digging in lightly, pulling him impossibly close, rocking against him, feeling the heat, the tension, the aching anticipation. Every slow, deliberate grind, every press of his hand, every teasing stroke drove her higher, closer, almost to the edge of sanity.

Bobby's lips trailed down her neck again, sucking, biting lightly, dragging moans from her throat that were wet and desperate. Her back arched, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him to her, begging without words, hips pressing, trembling, craving every inch of him.

He groaned deep, low, the sound vibrating through her, making her body tighten, coil, respond. "Kenna... god... you feel so... perfect..."

Her hands roamed lower, dragging over him, needing, desperate, every touch a fire that spread through her veins. She whispered his name, again and again, each time a plea, a command, a surrender.

Bobby's hands slid under her, lifting, holding, pressing her close, every movement precise, exquisite, teasing, torturing in the best possible way. He ground against her, slow at first, then with more heat, with more urgency, feeling her shiver, quiver, gasp, lose control.

"Bobby... I'm—oh god, I'm—" she gasped, nails scratching his shoulders as he teased her mercilessly, lips and hands, every nerve ending igniting with blissful, overwhelming pleasure.

He whispered against her ear, husky, almost rough. "Let go... Kenna... let me take you there..."

Her back arched, body trembling, breath catching in ragged gasps as the tension coiled tighter and tighter. She cried out his name as he followed her lead, every movement, every touch, every kiss, every press of his body against hers driving her higher, closer, to that ultimate, delicious edge.

And then... the world exploded.

Her body shuddered, trembling, screaming in pleasure, molten and raw, clinging to him as she rode the waves, moans echoing, shaking from head to toe. Bobby held her through it, groaning, lips pressed to her temple, chest pressed against hers, letting them both ride the storm together, every heartbeat, every gasp, every tremor of pleasure entwined.

They came down slowly, bodies tangled, sweat-slicked, hearts hammering, breathing ragged and uneven. Bobby pressed his forehead to hers, fingers combing through her hair, and whispered softly, almost reverently, "You're... incredible..."

Kenna's lips curved into a breathless, satisfied smile, body melting into his, whispering, "You... you're mine..."

And in that quiet, intimate aftermath, everything else faded. No alarms, no calls, no world outside. Just them—spent, tangled, hearts racing, heat lingering on skin, and the perfect, unspoken understanding that they had each other, completely and utterly, in every way.

****

Kenna pushed open the firehouse door, still riding the lingering heat of the night with Bobby. Her hair was a little mussed, cheeks flushed, and she couldn't help the faintly smug smile tugging at her lips. She knew she felt amazing—and maybe a little dangerous after what had happened in the privacy of their apartment.

Before she could even call out, Eddie was leaning casually against a locker, arms crossed, smirk plastered across his face like he'd been waiting for this exact moment. "Well, well, well... look who decided to show up bright-eyed and... frisky," he drawled, eyes glittering with mischief.

Kenna froze mid-step, hand on the door frame, and shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Eddie..." she hissed, low and warning, "don't even—"

"Oh, I'm just saying," he interrupted, stepping forward slowly, smirk widening. "You're looking... very awake this morning. Must've been a rough night, huh?"

Kenna felt her cheeks heat, a flush rising despite herself. She could almost hear Bobby's smug internal laughter somewhere behind her, which made her want to punch Eddie and kiss Bobby at the same time.

"Eddie," she repeated, voice firmer, "I do not need your commentary. And for your information, I slept perfectly fine."

Eddie chuckled, raising an eyebrow, clearly loving every second of making her squirm. "Sure, sure... you're just... glowing today. Radiating energy. Like... someone really enjoyed their morning."

Kenna's jaw tightened. "Eddie... you better—"

"You're blushing," he interrupted, grinning like the cat who got the cream. "And that smirk? Oh, I know that smirk."

Bobby finally stepped around the corner, looking impossibly smug himself, arms crossed. "Eddie," he said calmly, though there was amusement dancing in his eyes, "why don't you sit down before you get yourself hurt?"

Eddie's smirk faltered for half a second before he shrugged. "Hey, I'm just noticing things."

Kenna rolled her eyes so hard she could almost hear the spin. She crossed her arms, but her heart was still racing, heat from last night still simmering beneath her skin. She shot Bobby a side glance, and his knowing smirk said it all—he knew Eddie was being insufferable on purpose.

"Alright, alright," Eddie said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone... for now."

Kenna muttered a sharp, "Thank you," but her cheeks betrayed her, pink and warm. Bobby stepped closer, brushing her arm, and whispered, "Don't let him get to you."

She smirked back, leaning into him just enough to make Eddie groan. "Oh, I won't," she whispered, voice low and teasing.

Eddie groaned loudly, throwing his hands up. "Ohhhh, gross! I'm leaving before I puke!"

Kenna laughed softly, Bobby's hand warm against hers. The firehouse had never felt so alive... and she was very much aware that she was the reason for at least some of the chaos.

****

Kenna was leaning against the counter in the kitchen area, still glowing from the night before, sipping her coffee and enjoying the rare quiet moment...until Hen and Ellie slid in, smirks already plastered on their faces.

"Morning, glowworm," Hen said, voice teasing, eyes sparkling. "You look... very happy this morning."

Kenna raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Morning, Hen," she said, trying to sound casual.

Ellie leaned on the counter beside Hen, smirk fully in place. "So... now that we all know the big news," she began, voice heavy with mock suspense, "how's married life planning going? Or should I say, engagement planning? You two have been busy celebrating all week, right?"

Kenna chuckled, shrugging. "We've been... keeping busy," she said, letting a teasing smile linger. "Celebrating, enjoying the moment. You know, the important stuff."

Hen scoffed dramatically, hand on her hip. "The important stuff? Ohhh, I get it... very busy celebrating... right?" Her grin was dangerous, like she could read Kenna's every thought.

Kenna tilted her head, smirking, letting the teasing tension hang in the air. "Exactly. It's... been unforgettable."

Ellie laughed, giving Kenna a friendly nudge. "We know. We were part of the celebration, remember? And trust me, we saw the... enthusiasm. You two are ridiculous."

Kenna rolled her eyes playfully. "Ridiculous? Maybe. But happy? Absolutely. And isn't that what matters?"

Hen groaned, shaking her head. "You're telling me again why I'm doomed to live vicariously through your ridiculous romance?"

Ellie laughed harder, looking between them. "Yeah, seriously. We get it, Kenna. You're head over heels. And Bobby... he's a lucky man."

Kenna grinned, sipping her coffee again. "I know. And I intend to remind him of that every single day."

Hen smirked, muttering under her breath. "Ohhh, the firehouse is going to die from all this... I can already feel it."

Ellie elbowed her. "Stop whining, Hen. This is the fun part. Seeing her so happy, so alive... priceless."

Kenna just smiled, eyes sparkling, letting the playful teasing wash over her. They all knew the engagement was real, the excitement mutual—and now she got to bask in it a little longer before the chaos of the day hit.

****

The firehouse buzzed with energy as the 118 rolled up to the high-rise. Lights flashed, engines roared, and the wail of sirens echoed between the buildings.

"Two patients trapped in the elevator shaft," Chim's voice came tight over the radio. "They're dangling about twenty floors down. One injured—both conscious."

Kenna adjusted her harness, double-checking her carabiners, while Eddie prepped beside her. "We've got this," she said, forcing calm over the rush of adrenaline.

Bobby stood a few feet away, chest tight, fists clenching. "Kenna—hold up," he called. "I don't like sending you down there. That shaft's unstable. One wrong move..." His voice trailed, worry heavy in every word.

Kenna looked back at him, eyes fierce. "Bobby... I've done this before. I know the risks. Eddie and I will get them out. Don't worry."

Bobby's jaw clenched. "I'm not worried—I'm terrified. You're my best firefighter, and you're going into a hole with walls that could crumble any second. Be careful."

Eddie muttered, "You two are going to give me a heart attack before we even start..."

Hen's voice cut sharply over the radio. "Kenna, Eddie, get those ropes anchored. Descend carefully. Civilians are counting on you."

Kenna and Eddie stepped to the edge of the shaft. The elevator car hung at a jagged angle, wires fraying, panels dangling. Every shadow seemed to twitch with danger.

"Ready?" Eddie asked.

Kenna nodded. "Ready."

She stepped off the edge first, descending smoothly, rope taut and controlled. Eddie followed immediately.

Bobby's hands gripped the railing. Each second she disappeared was agony. "Kenna, check the upper cable... Eddie, watch the left wall!" His voice trembled despite himself.

Halfway down, a low creak ran through the shaft. The elevator jolted violently—a sudden, terrifying drop of nearly a foot. Kenna's stomach lurched. She tightened her grip, muscles burning as she stabilized herself.

"Jeez!" Eddie hissed, clutching his rope. "Did that just drop?"

"Yeah," Kenna replied, voice calm but eyes sharp. "Hold steady. That was just the elevator shifting—stay focused."

The first victim, a man clutching his leg, swayed slightly in the movement. Kenna anchored him to the harness, murmuring, "I've got you. Hold on tight. We're getting you out."

Bobby's chest heaved at the top, teeth clenched. Seeing her down there, handling the sudden jolt with precision, relief mixed with terror.

The second patient, a woman with a concussion, trembled violently as the elevator swayed again, ever so slightly. Kenna lowered herself carefully, securing her to the harness while giving Eddie a quick, reassuring glance. "Almost there," she whispered.

The ascent was slow, every foot deliberate. Another subtle jolt rattled the cables, and Kenna's hands flew to steady the patients. "Stay calm. Almost out," she urged.

Finally, both patients reached solid ground. Kenna and Eddie emerged, ropes secured, adrenaline still thrumming. Kenna looked up at Bobby, smirk teasing but eyes alive with triumph.

Bobby exhaled sharply, tension leaving him in a rush of relief. "You okay?" he demanded, stepping close, voice tight.

Kenna brushed soot from her sleeve, playful but still serious. "Never better. You worry too much."

Bobby shook his head, half laughing, half exasperated. "I'll never stop worrying about you. Ever."

Eddie groaned. "You two are the death of me..."

Kenna glanced at him, teasing. "Yeah, probably."

And as Bobby finally let himself relax, he knew one thing for certain: no matter how dangerous the call, Kenna was alive, capable, and fierce as ever—every jolting second proving it.

****

Kenna sank into the worn sofa in the 118's common area, still feeling the adrenaline from the elevator callout. Ellie slid in beside her, coffee in hand, eyes soft with curiosity.

"You holding up okay?" Ellie asked, nudging her gently.

"Yeah... mostly," Kenna admitted, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. "I forgot how a little jolt can feel like someone's trying to throw you down a chute."

Ellie chuckled lightly, then her expression grew more serious. "I wanted to ask you something... and don't worry, it's not about the firehouse this time."

Kenna tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh? And what would that be?"

Ellie took a breath, choosing her words carefully. "Have you... ever talked to Bobby about... kids? You know... the future?"

Kenna froze for a moment, looking down at her hands. Her chest tightened. "Ellie... we haven't," she admitted quietly. "Not yet."

Ellie's voice softened. "I get it. I just... wanted to know how you're feeling about it."

Kenna let out a small, wry laugh, but there was a shadow behind it. "Honestly? I don't bring it up because I know... what happened with his kids. Brooke and Robert Jr... I know that part of his life is filled with pain he can't erase. I'd never want to push him. I love him, Ellie, and I want him to feel ready on his own."

Ellie reached over and gave Kenna's hand a gentle squeeze. "You're... incredibly thoughtful. Most people wouldn't even think about it. But that's why he loves you. You respect him in ways that matter, that go deeper than anyone else."

Kenna's lips curved into a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Ellie. I just... I see myself with him. I know I do. But I also know we'll talk about it when it's the right time. When he's ready. Not because I made him feel he had to be."

Ellie grinned, warmth in her eyes. "He's head over heels for you, Kenna. You don't have to worry about him not wanting that... not ever. And when the time comes, it'll be perfect. You two... you just fit."

Kenna let out a quiet sigh, leaning back into the cushions. "Yeah... it does feel right. Every time I see him, I know it does."

Ellie patted her shoulder before standing. "Good. Just... enjoy the moments you have right now. The big conversations will come when they come. And you'll face them together."

Kenna watched her go, heart a little lighter, comforted by the knowledge that the love she and Bobby shared could weather the past—and that the future could be theirs when the time was right.

****

The pager screamed, lights cutting through the pre-dawn fog as the 118 roared down the winding hill roads. Kenna gripped the dashboard, glancing at Bobby. He was calm, composed, but every line of his body radiated authority.

"MVC, two vehicles, steep embankment, possible fuel leak," Chim's voice came through the radio, clipped and tense.

Bobby's eyes scanned the road ahead. "Alright, team. Scene's just past the switchback. Both cars are teetering near the hillside—risk of sliding down. Safety first. Kenna, Chim, you'll rig the harness to get down safely to the top car. Hen, Buck, secure the lower slope and traffic. Everyone else, stay back and keep communication open. Move fast but controlled."

Kenna's stomach flipped. "Always a thrill when he's in charge..." she muttered.

They pulled into the scene. The first car was precariously perched, wheels half-hanging over loose soil. The second had spun sideways on the incline, metal groaning as it settled against rocks. Broken glass and twisted metal glinted under the emergency lights.

Bobby jumped out first, voice firm. "Hen, Buck, stabilize that lower car—watch the embankment! Chim, check the harness rig. Kenna, you're going down first to assess the driver in the top car. Safety lines tight?"

Kenna hooked herself into the harness, tension coiling through her. "Tight. Ready," she called.

Bobby crouched beside her, brushing her shoulder briefly as he checked her rig. "Focus. That car isn't waiting for anyone to screw up. I need you steady, Kenna. Clear?"

She nodded, heart pounding. "Crystal."

The hillside was slick from recent rain. Kenna lowered herself carefully, cable cutting through the cold morning air, inching toward the top car. Every slight jolt of the vehicle made her stomach flip.

"Passenger conscious?" Bobby's voice carried down from above, calm but commanding.

"Unresponsive but breathing," Kenna said, guiding the driver, a terrified young man, into a stable position in the harness. "Okay... moving him slowly."

Bobby's eyes never left her. "Chim, Hen, brace the slope. Steady, steady... Kenna, ease him—don't let the line sway!"

The top car shifted slightly with the weight of the driver. Kenna froze, heart hammering, and then gritted her teeth, trusting Bobby's guidance. Inch by inch, she maneuvered the patient downward, muscles burning, sweat mixing with mud.

"Passenger secure!" she finally shouted, voice trembling but triumphant as Chim and Hen guided him onto solid ground.

Bobby exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Good job, Kenna. Perfect execution. Couldn't ask for better."

The second car was stabilized shortly after, though Buck and Hen's nervous murmurs betrayed how close it had come to sliding down the hill. Kenna stepped off the harness, mud caking her boots, and looked at Bobby.

He gave her a firm nod, pride flickering in his eyes. "Next time, you stay on the ground unless it's absolutely necessary. Coffee and donuts are more your style than hillside acrobatics."

Kenna rolled her eyes, trying to hide a grin. "Agreed... but someone's got to keep you on your toes, Captain."

Bobby smirked, already scanning the next challenge. "I like my team on their toes—but preferably not dangling over a cliff."

****

Back at the firehouse, the adrenaline had mostly worn off, leaving Kenna feeling every ache and scrape from the hillside. She hung her harness on the gear rack, mud crusted under her boots, and let out a long sigh.

Bobby was in the kitchen area, peeling off his gloves, eyes tracking her the whole time. "You okay, daredevil?" he asked, voice low, teasing but with an edge of concern.

Kenna turned, trying to look nonchalant, but she felt her chest tighten at the way he scrutinized her. "Yeah... I'm fine. Nothing a little shower—and maybe a stiff drink—can't fix."

He smirked. "Uh-huh." He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You really like flirting with death, don't you?"

"Excuse me?" Kenna raised an eyebrow, brushing mud off her sleeve. "I prefer the term... professional hazard management."

Bobby shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Professional hazard management. Sure. That's exactly what it looked like hanging off that hillside like... like Bambi on ice."

Kenna rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her anyway. "Oh, so now I'm Bambi? Good to know, Captain."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I just... I don't like watching you risk yourself like that. You're mine, remember? I prefer my team alive and kicking—not dangling over a cliff."

Her stomach fluttered at the possessiveness in his tone. "Mine, huh?" she teased back, stepping a little closer, brushing the edge of her arm against his. "You don't get to tell me what to do off the hill, Bobby Nash."

"Oh, I get to tell you plenty," he murmured, voice rough, fingers brushing her hip as he leaned in. "Especially when it comes to keeping you safe."

Kenna's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "Hmm... maybe you should start keeping me busy another way."

His eyes darkened just enough to make her shiver, the tension between them crackling. "Oh, I can think of a few... ways."

She tilted her head, teasing. "Really? Do tell, Captain."

He leaned down, voice low and intimate. "For starters... how about we make sure you're grounded—right here, right now."

Kenna's breath caught as he pressed a hand to her back, drawing her closer. "And by grounded, you mean...?" she whispered, the playfulness in her voice laced with heat.

Bobby smirked against her temple. "Exactly like this. No hills. No harnesses. Just us."

She laughed softly, shivering with anticipation. "I could... get used to that."

And in that quiet corner of the firehouse, with the chaos of the callout fading behind them, Bobby pulled her into a slow, deliberate kiss, hands tracing her curves, grounding her in him. Every teasing glance, every soft brush of fingers, stoked the fire between them, reminding Kenna that no matter how dangerous the day had been... she was safest—and most alive—when she was with Bobby.

****

A couple of days later, Kenna was off shift, strolling down a busy street with a tote bag full of groceries. The sun hit her face, the city buzzing around her, and for a few blissful moments, she let herself relax.

Her phone buzzed—Bobby checking in, as usual—but she ignored it, smiling at a street performer juggling on the corner.

Then—a low rumble rolled through the pavement beneath her feet. At first, she thought it was a passing truck, but the vibration intensified, windows rattling, street signs swaying.

Kenna's stomach dropped. "No... no, not now," she muttered. Around her, people started screaming, stumbling, clutching their phones, and trying to make sense of the trembling city.

The ground beneath her feet rolled like waves. She grabbed a lamppost, fingers white around the metal, as the asphalt seemed to ripple and shift. Trash cans toppled. Coffee cups spilled. Horns blared.

Her phone buzzed again—a flood of alerts: "Earthquake 7.1 magnitude. Evacuate immediately."

She swallowed hard, tugged her bag close, and started moving toward the wide, open street—anywhere she could avoid falling debris, anything to stay upright.

The world around her shook violently, buildings swaying. A newsstand toppled a few feet away, narrowly missing her. Kenna stumbled but caught herself against a railing, heart hammering.

She looked up, scanning the streets, eyes sharp, alert. "Stay calm, stay calm..." she whispered, her firefighter instincts kicking in. She helped an elderly man steady himself as cars jolted and alarms screamed in the distance.

Her thoughts immediately went to Bobby. Was he at the firehouse? Did he feel it too? Were the others okay?

Somewhere in the chaos, a distant siren wailed. Kenna squared her shoulders, tote bag swinging at her side. She might not know what was coming next, but she knew one thing for certain: she was going to get through this, and she wasn't going down without helping others along the way.

The ground trembled again, a deafening roar rolling through the city, buildings groaning—but Kenna's gaze stayed forward, unflinching, determined. She was safe... for now.

But above the trembling streets, the city held its breath.