2/13

[spanningyears]

There's a club in Darrow, Firetrap, it's called. Somebody thinks they're really funny.

But there's a whole theme: guys juggling and twirling and swallowing fire, drinks served en flambe...

It's just a pity that the owner's not as devoted to safety procedures as he is the theme of the place. Just maybe if he was, the place wouldn't be a smoldering pile of rubble now. It's the little details.

Logan's almost done with a 48 hour shift when they get the call that the place has gone up. It's looking like this will be the last run before he gets a couple of days off, and, not that he's one to brag about it, but he's more than a little impressed with his timing.

No, scratch that. He's definitely going to brag about it.

But maybe his head just wasn't in the right place tonight, more focused on those days off ahead of him than on the actual job in front of him when they get to Firetrap. One of the guys on the truck with them tonight gives them the all clear, says the club's been completely evacuated, only, this lady nearby is shouting about a friend of hers still being inside, while Lieutenant Diaz holds her back, tries to calm her down.

Logan's definitely not thinking. Because they've barely got the hose hooked up— he's supposed to be paired up with Jeffries— and the next thing he knows, he's racing inside without the right gear on. He gets out okay, after finding this twenty-year old half passed out in a booth near the back and dragging her out, but he's coughing, his throat and lungs practically on fire themselves as he pukes his guts out in the street.

Next thing he knows, he's waking up at Darrow General with an oxygen mask on his face, and he doesn't know which chewing out he's dreading more: the Fire Chief's, or his in case of emergency contact.

It's starting to look like his days off probably aren't going to go off like he planned.

Comments

[chasingthestorm]

We should probably come with instruction manuals, me and Logan. The entire thing would be what to do in an emergency.

Frankly, it's a miracle I haven't received a call like this sooner. For almost a year now, my life in Darrow has been comparatively quiet, even peaceful. Logan and I have been getting along like a normal couple, which is to say like people who don't almost get killed once a week. Sooner or later, one of us was going to fall off the wagon.

Veronica Mars isn't a fan of paperwork. She's not a fan of being made to hang around the nurses' station while they make her answer questions and fill things out, giving worry time to build into frustration. So her boyfriend's a firefighter. So that literally means running into the fire. Leave it to Logan to find a way to make that more dangerous.

She knows the drill when it comes to hospitals. Keep your voice down. Be calm. Don't excite the patient. Bullshit. Hurrying into the room, seeing Logan lying there, she shakes her head, briefly dumbstruck. "You couldn't take one minute to make sure you were actually ready to walk into a burning building? Really?"