Page 11 of Playing With Fire

6

EVELYN

The firehouse was nearly empty, the distant sounds of rustling papers and the hum of the central air filling the silence. Evelyn sat alone in the captain’s office bent over a thick sheaf of budget reports. She’d been here for hours, reviewing every line item and category, recalculating figures that refused to fit into her projections. The team had been called out, and she’d taken advantage of the offer of the comfier settings than her own temporary space provided. She, of course, had her own office at the agency, but in situations like this, she preferred to have boots on the ground as such. Efficiency was supposed to be her specialty, but she hadn’t expected it to feel like such a battle here. She’d given up on her usual posture, her jacket draped over the chair, and her hair was pinned back in a loose, practical knot. The air felt thick, almost stifling, as if the firehouse itself was waiting, watching her.

Papers and spreadsheets were strewn across her desk, a collection of ideas carefully compiled for her task at hand. She was determined to identify areas where the fire department could trim its budget without sacrificing safety—or so she kept telling herself. The numbers were stark, however, and her noteswere peppered with tentative cuts: reducing overtime expenses, consolidating resources between neighboring departments, phasing out equipment that didn’t meet the new standards. Even the possibility of closing one of the auxiliary stations in the far east part of town hovered on the edge of her considerations, though she knew the community impact would be substantial.

She tapped her pen against the page, an undercurrent of frustration simmering beneath her usual polished composure. Each suggestion seemed perfectly logical on paper, but she couldn’t ignore how heavy-handed it felt, as if she were trying to disassemble a machine she barely understood. Every so often, as she scrutinized the numbers, Cass’s face would flash in her mind, stubborn and resolute as she defended her team and their equipment. Evelyn grit her teeth, dismissing the vision as quickly as it came. It was just the residue of their last argument, she told herself. Nothing more. Yet, the impression lingered, her mind slipping back to the fire in Cass’s eyes when they argued about those “outdated” tools and what she called “the spirit of the department.”

Focus, she chided herself, shuffling the pages to block out thoughts of Cass. Efficiency was essential for sustainability; it was the only way forward for a department with limited funds and growing responsibilities. Every decision, no matter how unpopular, was ultimately for their benefit. Still, a shadow of doubt nagged at her.

The door swung open suddenly, and Evelyn looked up to find Cass filling the doorway. The captain’s shoulders were tense, her gaze hard as it settled on Evelyn. A sheen of sweat covered her, and a faint coating of ash graced her face. She looked exhausted. Cass stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that made Evelyn’s heart quicken.

“Still here?” Cass’s tone was flat, edged with a coolness Evelyn recognized as frustration barely held in check.

“Yes,” Evelyn replied, meeting Cass’s gaze evenly. “I thought I’d go over the proposals one more time to make sure we’re not overlooking any options. I’ll be out of your hair now that you’ve returned” She kept her voice calm, measured, professional. Cass’s jaw tensed, and Evelyn could feel the storm brewing beneath her steady exterior.

“Options,” Cass repeated, crossing her arms. “Like cutting the equipment budget again?” Her voice was low, but the accusation cut through the room, heating the air between them.

Evelyn sighed, shifting her papers aside as she prepared herself for yet another clash. “We need to reallocate resources, Cass. I’m not doing this to undermine your team, but we have to operate within our means. This department is spending more than it’s bringing in?—”

Cass interrupted her, a spark igniting in her eyes. “It’s not just numbers, Evelyn. Every dollar you cut is another risk we take. You’re asking us to sacrifice safety for a budget projection.” Her words were crisp, clipped, each one a verbal shove.

Evelyn’s irritation flared, fueled by exhaustion and Cass’s relentless pushback. She stood, crossing the room until they were nearly eye to eye. “I know what I’m asking for,” she replied, her voice firmer. “But you don’t seem to understand that if we don’t start making these changes now, there might not be a department left to protect. This isn’t about you or your team’s pride; it’s about the sustainability of the entire operation.”

Cass’s eyes flashed, and she took a step closer, her presence a wall of heat and determination. “Don’t you dare question our commitment, Evelyn,” she said, her tone low and dangerous. “We’re out there every day, running into burning buildings while you sit behind a desk and count pennies.”

The words struck a nerve, stinging in a way Evelyn hadn’t expected. “I’m not questioning your commitment,” she shot back, her voice rising with her anger. “But there’s a differencebetween bravery and recklessness. New equipment could save lives, Cass, and if you’d stop being so damn stubborn, you’d see that.”

Cass’s blue eyes narrowed and some of her hair had escaped its tie, flying wild around her face, and Evelyn felt the tension ratchet up another degree, the air between them buzzing with a mix of frustration and something else—something almost magnetic. Cass took another step forward, close enough that Evelyn could feel the heat radiating from her, close enough that their eyes locked in an unbreakable line.

“Stubborn?” Cass echoed, her voice nearly a growl. “You don’t know the first thing about what it means to lead this team. You think you can just waltz in here and start tearing down everything we’ve built without even understanding what it means to these people?”

“Maybe I understand more than you think,” Evelyn replied, her own voice dropping, sharpened with irritation and a flicker of something she couldn’t quite name. She held her ground, refusing to be intimidated by Cass’s intensity. “You talk about loyalty and pride, but loyalty doesn’t pay for the equipment you need, Cass. I’m trying to help, even if you don’t want to see it.”

Cass’s hand clenched into a fist at her side, and Evelyn could feel the simmering anger radiating from her. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, and Evelyn’s pulse raced in her throat. She was used to confrontations, used to people pushing back, but there was something different about this, something that felt personal, almost raw.

“You think this is helping?” Cass said, her voice low and tight. “All you’re doing is stripping us down piece by piece, and you don’t even care what it does to morale. To the people who rely on this department every single day.”

Evelyn felt her own control start to slip, her frustration boiling over as she stepped even closer, their faces now inchesapart. She could see the flecks of color of yellow and green in Cass’s eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw, the faint tremor in her breathing. Her pulse raced, a thrill of defiance and something else—a thrill she tried to ignore but couldn’t quite suppress.

“I care about this department just as much as you do, Cass,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we’re on borrowed time here. You can’t cling to the past just because it feels safe.”

Cass’s hand shot out, grabbing her arm—not hard, but firm enough that Evelyn’s breath hitched. The heat of Cass’s touch seeped through her skin, igniting something electric that shot straight to her core. Evelyn’s voice faltered, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as Cass’s eyes bore into hers, searching, challenging.

“Safe?” Cass echoed, her voice rough, almost a whisper. “You think I don’t know what’s at stake? I live it every day, Evelyn. This isn’t some spreadsheet for me. It’s people. It’s lives.”

The intensity of her words hung in the air, charged and crackling. Evelyn couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull herself out of the magnetic pull between them. Cass’s grip on her arm softened, but she didn’t let go. Their faces were inches apart, their breaths mingling in the heated space, and Evelyn felt her own restraint slipping, the control she prided herself on dissolving in the face of Cass’s raw passion.

Before she could think, before she could talk herself out of it, Evelyn leaned in, closing the gap between them. Cass’s eyes widened, and for a brief second, Evelyn thought she’d misread the moment. But then Cass’s hand slid up her arm, steadying her as her lips met Evelyn’s, tentative at first, then deepening with a fervor that made Evelyn’s knees weak.

The world fell away. The firehouse, the argument, the budget cuts—all of it dissolved in the heat of that kiss, a heady mix of frustration and something far more dangerous. Cass’s mouthwas warm and demanding, her grip firm and grounding, and Evelyn let herself fall into the sensation, her fingers tangling in the collar of Cass’s shirt as she pulled her closer.

For a moment, they were lost, consumed by the passion that had been simmering between them, unacknowledged and unresolved. It was a release, a surrender, a crossing of lines they’d both been too stubborn to acknowledge until now. Evelyn’s hands moved to Cass’s shoulders, her grip desperate, as if anchoring herself in the intensity of the moment.

But just as suddenly, Cass pulled back, her breathing ragged as she looked at Evelyn, her eyes dark and unreadable. Evelyn’s heart pounded, the weight of what they’d just done settling over her, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

Cass released her arm slowly, her gaze lingering on Evelyn’s face, a mixture of frustration and something softer, something vulnerable. Evelyn opened her mouth to say something, to bridge the sudden silence, but no words came, and she realized with a jolt that she didn’t know what to say.

---