Adam stretched his legs out and rested his head against the back of the bench. Warmth from the evening sun bathed his face as faint orange light seeped between his closed lids. Echoes of light traffic coming from the interstate behind the station floated through the air, nothing more than a faint hum occasionally broken by the louder roar of a diesel engine.

He had come out here for peace and quiet, for a chance to just clear his mind and get away from the bickering going on in the kitchen. He wasn't interested in the hockey game they were watching on television. Wasn't interested in deciding what to have for dinner or where to go this coming weekend.

Wasn't interested in anything except trying to clear his fucking mind until he stopped seeing a shy smile whenever he closed his eyes.

Why the fuck did his mind insist on dredging up images of Beth every time he closed his eyes? Every night when he went home, every night when he fell asleep. Every fucking time he turned on his computer and thought about logging into the chatroom. He never got past entering his username and password, told himself it was because he wasn't interested in hooking up, that he just needed a break for a little bit.

Tried to convince himself it had nothing to do with the gut-wrenching fear of seeing Beth in there. Of knowing that she might be looking for her own hook-up.

One that didn't include him.

He sucked in a deep breath and wrapped his hands around the edge of the bench. Wood, hard and rough, dug into his palms, almost painful.

Still not enough to get those fucking images from his mind.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why the fuck couldn't he stop thinking about her? He shouldn't be giving her any more thought than what he spared his other hook-ups. So why was he? Why hadn't he been able to think of anything else for the last two weeks?

Because of the way she left him. That had to be it. He'd never had that happen before, not like that. She'd gone down on him, sucked him off, and then just…left.

His mind balked at the vulgarity and he wasn't sure why because that's exactly what happened.

Except it wasn't. Not really. Not in Beth's case. She deserved more than vulgar references, more than the lewdness of a casual memory.

But why? What the fuck was so different about Beth? Why had she gotten to him? It didn't make sense.

And that's what worried the fuck out of him.

"You're going to get splinters if you don't let up on that bench."

Adam jumped at the quiet warning. He released his hold on the bench and sat up, darting a quick glance at Mikey. Great, just what he needed. Didn't she know he wanted to be left alone in peace and quiet so he could wallow in his own misery and self-pity?

Obviously not. Or, if she did, she didn't care. She stepped closer, leaned down and swatted his leg. "Why do all of you guys always insist on sitting in the middle and taking up all the room? Scoot over."

Adam's sigh was filled with impatience, letting her know he wasn't in the mood for company. Mikey didn't care because she lowered herself on the bench next to him then shoved him to the side with her hip.

"Mikey, I'm not in the mood."

"No shit. And too bad."

Adam grunted. Fine, whatever. She could sit there all she wanted. That didn't mean he had to talk to her.

"I'm surprised to see you out here. Figured you'd be in the back, studying."

"I needed a break."

"For the last two tricks?"

"I'm studying at home." Except he wasn't. He wasn't doing anything at home except sitting there, staring into space.

"The test is in a month."

"I know."

"Are you going to be ready for it?"

"I'll be ready." Adam tilted his head to the side and fixed her with a steady glare. "The question is, will you be ready?"

"Me?" Mikey shook her head, her ponytail swinging behind her with the motion. "I'm not taking it."

"Why the hell not? I thought you were."

"Changed my mind."

"Fuck, Mikey. Why? You'd ace that exam. And you'd make a great lieutenant."

She shrugged and looked away but not before he saw the frown cross her face—or the contradicting smile that briefly lifted the corners of her mouth. "Maybe next year."

"Bullshit. What changed your mind? You were all gung-ho about it six months ago when the notice came out."

"Shit happens. You know that. And I didn't come out here to talk about me—I came out here to talk about you. What the hell are you moping around for?"

"I'm not."

"Yeah? My turn to call bullshit. What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on. I'm just trying to clear my mind, get ready for the test."

"Yeah, sure you are. You know you're not fooling anyone, right?"

"Ask me if I care."

Mikey laughed and shook her head. "Why do I have the feeling the problem is that you care too much?"

"Not me. You know better than that."

Mikey pinned him with a glare, her mossy green eyes steady, seeing too much. Silence stretched between them, long enough that Adam started to squirm. He looked away, breaking the intense eye contact, wondering what Mikey had seen when she watched him so closely.

Afraid she saw too much.

"You're right. I do."

Adam stared straight ahead, his gaze focused on the bare trees lining the ramp leading out to the road. "You do, what?"

"Know you better than that. We all do. Hell, Adam. How long have we all worked together? There aren't any secrets here. You know that."

"Great. Wonderful. That doesn't mean I need anyone all up in my business. Including you. Even if there are no secrets."

"Actually, there's one secret nobody knows about yet."

Adam heard the hesitancy in her voice, sensed the confusion in her words. He looked over at her, saw the way her brows were pulled low over her eyes, noticed the way she chewed on her lower lip, as if she was worried about something.

Adam told himself not to ask, tried to convince himself he didn't care. This was just Mikey, being melodramatic—no doubt to get him to open up and talk.

Except Mikey didn't do melodrama. Mikey was the steadiest and most even-keeled person he knew.

"Okay, fine. What secret is that?"

A faint smile flashed across her face. "I'll tell if you tell."

"Yeah, right. Bullshit. Nice try but it's not going to work. You should know better—"

"I'm pregnant."

Adam stared at her, not sure he heard the whispered words correctly. She had to be joking. Had to be pulling his leg. No way was she serious. This had to be nothing more than a ploy to get him to open up.

Only she didn't look like she was joking. She looked…worried. Excited. Scared.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Adam. Really. You think I would make a fucking joke about something like this?"

"No. I—no." He pulled a deep breath in through his nose and quickly released it. "Is, uh, is this a good thing?"

"Yeah." Mikey frowned, nodded. Held still for a long second and nodded again. "Yeah, it's good. Unexpected, though."

"Good. Good, then. Congratulations." He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a quick hug.

"Yeah, thanks." She pulled away and leaned forward, tucked her hands under her legs and stared straight ahead. "Nobody knows yet. Not even Jay. You can't tell a soul. I mean it, Adam. I don't want anyone to know yet."

"Mikey, you have to tell them. You can't keep working—"

"I'm only two months along. The doctor said I was fine, that I can keep working for a little while longer. And SOP says I can stay out in the field until I'm six months along."

"Bullshit. We both know that's not safe, I don't give a flying fuck what standard operating procedure says."

"Yeah, I know. I, uh, I'll probably go on light duty next month." She turned back to him, her face serious. "I mean it, Adam. You can't tell anyone."

"I won't."

She studied him for a quiet minute then finally nodded, satisfied that he was telling the truth. Another minute went by then she grinned and nudged him in the side. "Okay, I told you my secret. Now tell me what the hell is going on with you. It's about that girl you've been seeing, isn't it? Beth?"

Adam opened his mouth before he had a chance to decide what to tell her. Was he going to deny it? Or was he going to open up about it?

He never got a chance one way or the other because the alarm blared to life, a loud screech that broke the silence around them. They jumped from the bench in unison, ran inside as the dispatcher's disembodied voice announced a dwelling fire. Adam scrambled into his gear and raced for the engine, climbing in behind Pete as Mikey raced around to the other side. Dale put the engine in gear, pulling out with a roar as Pete hit the siren.

He could smell it before they turned onto the street: that particular odor of smoke, heavy and thick with wood and plastic and everything else imaginable. He turned, saw the crowd of onlookers standing near the curb, saw heavy black smoke coming from the third story of the large house.

They moved in unison, no words needed as he and Mikey pulled the line and dragged it toward the house while Pete assessed the scene, talking into his radio.

Dale charged the line, the hiss of water loud as Mikey and Adam secured their facemasks in place. Mikey grabbed the nozzle and hurried forward, Adam right behind her, humping hose as they advanced inside and up the stairs.

Something was wrong. Something felt…off. It was too hot, too thick. They needed ventilation, fast. How soon before the truck company got here? Minutes, no longer than that.

They reached the third floor, the heat intensifying as they moved forward. He could just make out the deep glow of red, like a monster's eye staring out at them from a hood of black.

"Hit it!" His voice was muffled by the facemask, the sound reminding him of something from a sci-fi movie. He could barely see Mikey, even though his face was damn near plastered against her ass. But he didn't have to see to know she was shaking her head.

"Not yet. Closer."

"Bullshit, Mikey. Hit it."

She muttered something he couldn't make out, figured she was probably cussing him out. He heard the hiss of water, felt it rush to life through the hose line as she opened the nozzle.

Heat, searing and painful, wrapped around them. Steam—but something else, too. Something…not right. Adam didn't know if he heard it—or if he sensed it. Something, some faint warning or instinct or sense of foreboding. He didn't know, just reacted at the same time Mikey did.

Too late.

A deafening roar, an explosion of red and orange, an inferno of heat. Adam reached for Mikey, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, tried to roll with her. Protecting her, trying to shelter her. Thinking of the life she carried inside her, thinking she'd probably cuss him out when they got back to the station.

They were spinning. Flying. Falling.

And then the world went black.