fandomtownies | Fandom Fire Station, Friday

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Fandom Fire Station, Friday

"Ready?" Travis asked. Probie, looking dashing in her work vest and a little dog-sized fire helmet, braced herself and wagged her tail. "Go!"

He set off at a jog as Probie bolted down a ramp and started daring back and forth between safety cones in the little improvised agility course Travis had laid out for her.

"Aaaaaand -- time!" Travis hit stop on his watch and threw his arms in the air. "Personal best, Probie!"

Probie danced around in a circle, tail wagging like crazy, as Travis pulled a treat from his pocket for her.

"Good girl, Probie! Who's a good fire dog? Who's the best fire dog in the world? It's Probie!"

What? There was a lot of crossover between agility course tricks and things a fire dog might have to do in an emergency, okay?

[open!}

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Stark had planned on making a delivery here today but he was distracted from the sodas he was carrying by the dog. And by Travis with the dog.

"She's a very good dog," he confirmed.

Travis practically beamed. “She really is, isn’t she. And she loves working. I’m a little sorry she doesn’t get to see more action.”

He felt the same for Buck and Eddie, too.

"She is," Stark said, grinning back. "Hello, Probie."

"I didn't think to bring her anything today. I should have. But I brought these for you." He held up the 6-pack of root beer (not from the raccoons).

“You know you don’t actually have to bring anything when you come by, right?” Travis asked, even as he accepted the six pack. “Root beer! Nice!”

"I wanted to," Stark said. "You said you always liked it when you were younger, so I thought you might like some now, too."

"It was my absolute favorite," Travis said. "Thank you."

He leaned in to give Stark a kiss on his unmaked cheek.

Stark was always happy to receive a little affection, as a treat. His smile was softer for a moment before turning into something more like a smirk.

"I thought it would be better than malort. For everyone."

"Yeah, that still just sounds evil to me. 'Malort'. Was it named after the noise you make drinking it?"

"That might explain it," Stark said thoughtfully. "I hope these don't make you make any noises."

...phrasing?

"Only good ones, I'm sure," Travis said. "C'mon. We'll give Probie a break for a bit and we can share one, maybe."

"Good noises are allowed."

Nope. Didn't hear it.

"And sharing sounds good. I haven't tried this kind before. But it looked good."

Travis lifted the six pack to get another look at the label. "I haven't either. New experience for both of us!"

"That makes it better."

"Unless," he added, suddenly a little worried, "Unless it's actually terrible."

"It's root beer," Travis said. "How bad could it be?"

"I'm sure it's fine," Stark said in a tone that didn't sound at all sure.

It was fine. He'd gone for some fancy craft root beer. As a treat.

"If it's not I'll go get us something else. Should we try it?"

"We should try it," Travis said. "And you should relax." He gave Stark a fond headshake. "Even if it's not great root beer, it'll still be nice that you brought it."

"I hope you like it. I just worry." Always. So much worry.

"I didn't check the caps. Do we need a bottle opener?"

"Nope." Travis led the way over to a bench and sat, setting the six pack between his feet and pulling out a bottle. "I got it covered." He would absolutely muscle open any bottle caps without an opener, whether they were screwtops or not. See if he didn't.

Stark would be appropriately impressed by that trick! Travis did have nice arms (and a nice everything, really, in Stark's opinion).

"Good," Stark said with a small nod as he joined Travis on the bench. "I didn't think of it."

"It's easy to forget," Travis said, and popped the cap off with a flick of his wrist, then offered it to Stark. "You want to do the honors?"

Stark gave him another smile before accepting the bottle.

He took a sip, nodded a little, then took another. "Not terrible at all," he promised, licking his lips and offering the bottle back.

Travis was enjoying watching him drink.

"Just not terrible?" he asked, taking the bottle.

"You should try for yourself," Stark told him, still smiling.

"Tell me what you think."

"Don't want to potentially bias my opinion?" Travis teased, and took an exploratory sip. He nodded, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. "That is . . . that's nice." He turned the bottle a little, looking at the label again. "A little herby without losing the sweetness!"

Stark was watching him carefully and he grinned. "It is nice."

So was sitting here.

"I'm glad you like it."

"I do," Travis confirmed, giving him a smile. "Thank you for bringing it by."

Stark was looking considerably more relaxed then he had been when it had occurred to him that the root beer might actually not be any good.

"You're welcome. I just thought it might be nice." And a convenient excuse to come by. Not that he needed one but sometimes he worried that he did. He worried a lot.

"May I have another sip?"

"Of course," Travis said, passing the bottle back.

And yeah, he was noticing that "worrying a lot" thing. (Really, and people in Seattle thought he overthought everything!)

He leaned his shoulder against Stark's and watched Probie use her free time to chase some spare pieces of confetti around the floor.

Stark tried not to worry! He just wasn't very good at that most of the time.

"Thank you," he said. He was just going to take a few careful sips so as not to move his shoulder too much. He didn't want to move Travis.

"Maybe I should come see Probie more often. I met Dwight's dog yesterday."

"You should definitely come see Probie more often. And Probie should meet Dwight's dog."

"Just Probie?" Stark asked, passing the bottle back. "Or should I come see you more often too?"

"Oh, definitely just Probie," Travis teased, even as he put his arm over Stark's shoulder to tug him in a little more firmly. "She seems to be getting kind of attached to you."

Probie was attempting to eat the confetti.

Stark let out a soft, contented little sigh and quite happily allowed himself to be pulled a little closer.

"Has she? I'm very fond of her as well. Even if I forgot to bring her a treat today. At least she has the confetti."

"She -- really shouldn't be eating that," Travis said, frowning. "I still don't know where that's coming from."

It was probably perfectly safe confetti. Probably.

"It won't her, will it? Do we need to stop her?"

“One piece probably won’t.” Travis didn’t want to get up. He patted his thigh to get her attention instead. “Hey! Drop it! Droooop it. . . .”

Probie gave him a sad face. The confetti was stuck to her lip.

"I don't have anything else to give you," Stark told the dog apologetically. "But if you come here you can have pets?"

He held out his hand (not the one that had been occasionally hovering over Travis's leg) to the dog.

Pets?! Probie loved pets! She trotted over, tail whipping back and forth, confetti still stuck to her lip.

"Good girl," Stark told her very seriously as he started to rub her ears.

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Fandom Fire Station, Friday

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