"The way you move. Calm in the chaos."
I look up from her wrist and meet her eyes. They're warm amber in the emergency lights, observant and unafraid.
"I have," I say simply.
She doesn't look away. Doesn't fill the silence with platitudes or questions. Just holds my gaze, acknowledging the weight behind those two words. It's rare, that kind of understanding from someone who hasn't been there.
I secure the bandage and reluctantly release her wrist. "Keep it clean. Change the dressing tomorrow."
"Thank you," she says, flexing her fingers experimentally.
"Just doing my job." The response is automatic, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they're not entirely true. The care I took with her wrist, the relief I felt seeing her safe… that went beyond professional obligation.
"Well, your job is important." She wraps her cardigan tighter against the cold, snow continuing to fall around us in soft, silent flakes. "And you're good at it."
Before I can respond, Austin approaches, grinning despite the soot on his face. "Kitchen's toast, but we stopped it before it breached the wall. Bookstore should be fine, ma'am, though you might want to air it out. Smoke has a way of sneaking in."
"Thank you," Gloria tells him, genuine gratitude in her voice. "I appreciate you all responding so quickly."
Austin's eyes dart between us, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. "No problem. That's what we're here for."He gives me a look that promises future interrogation. "Chief says we're good to start clearing equipment."
I nod, and he retreats, but not before throwing a casual "Nice to meet you, ma'am" over his shoulder.
"You should get inside somewhere warm," I tell Gloria, acutely aware that we're still standing very close, the emergency rig providing a small pocket of privacy amid the controlled chaos.
She looks back toward her store, hesitant. "I should check for damage."
"Not yet. Let us verify the structure first." I check my watch. "Give it thirty minutes. Go to the Enchanted Bean and warm up."
"Is that an official order?" There's that teasing note again, slipping past her usual guard.
"Medical recommendation," I correct, fighting an unexpected urge to smile. "The cold isn't good for burns."
She studies me for a moment, then nods. "Thirty minutes. Then I'm checking my store."
"I'll drive you home after," I say before I can think better of it. "You shouldn't be alone with that burn tonight. In case of infection."
It's transparent, and we both know it. The burn is minor. She'd be fine.
Gloria tilts her head slightly. "I live just beside the bookstore."
"Then I'll drive you there." I hold her gaze, allowing myself one honest moment. "I'd feel better knowing you got home safe."
Something softens in her expression, vulnerability replacing her practical exterior for just a second. "I can walk. It's right there." She points to the bookstore's side entrance. "But thank you."
I nod, accepting her independence. "At least let me check the apartment before you settle in. Make sure there's no smoke damage."
She considers this, weighing my concern against her self-reliance. "Okay," she finally agrees. "That would be helpful."
Logan calls from near the café, and duty pulls me back. "Thirty minutes," I remind her. "Bean first, then home."
"Yes, sir," she says, with just enough playful mockery to make heat rise unexpectedly to my neck.
As she walks away, snow swirling around her green cardigan, I fight the urge to watch her go. Instead, I turn back to the scene, to the job, to reality.
"So that's the bookstore lady," Logan says, appearing at my side with remarkable stealth for someone his size.
I focus on packing up the medical kit. "Ms. Sullivan. Yes."
