Chapter Text
It’s a beautiful day — not a cloud in the sky. Honestly, the perfect kind of day to save a cat.
“Hey, easy…” Albert keeps his voice low and soothing as he speaks to the little ginger tabby perched at the far end of the branch. “I hear the sirens, buddy. Someone’s going to be here to save you soon — and me, too.”
Look, he knows this is embarrassing, okay?
Let him defend himself for a second: the cat wasn’t supposed to jump that high. He figured that with his former firefighter training, he had more than enough skill to handle it. He was almost there, but the second his hand brushed the cat, the cat decided to teach him a lesson. It leapt to a higher, more distant branch, and for good measure, shook a spider down onto the trunk right next to him.
“Okay, everything’s fine…” he whispers to himself, eyes locked on the spider. If he has to risk that thing crawling on him just to get back down the way he came, he’d rather just die right there.
“Meow~” The cat — a creature with a cute face and a wicked soul — flicks its tail as if mocking him. Then, without warning, it leaps directly onto his face.
Everything goes black. Albert loses his footing and tumbles into mid‑air, bracing himself for a nasty, face‑first collision with the ground.
But the pain never comes. Instead, something soft and solid catches him.
“Are you okay?” A smooth, pleasant voice drifts down from above.
Albert opens his eyes to find himself cradled in a firefighter’s arms.
Sunlight filters through the gaps in the leaves, surrounding the man in a brilliant, golden glow. Like an angel’s halo, the scene is so impossibly beautiful that it feels unreal. For the first time in his life, Albert is looking at something so holy that he actually forgets how to breathe.
SMACK! The cat delivers a sharp slap to Albert’s cheek before jumping out of his arms.
Albert lets out a groan, clutching his face, and finally dragged back to reality
“Oh my god, I don’t even know how to thank you!” A young woman rushes over, clutching the cat.
That’s Chloe — the cat’s owner. Albert had met her while out for a walk; she was incredibly nice and had even offered him a chance to pet the cat — though clearly, the cat had other plans.
“Don’t mention it. It’s our job,” the firefighter says with a sincere smile.
Albert catches the name on the back of his turnout gear: PANIKKAR.
Albert opens his mouth to speak, but a paramedic steps in front of him, blocking his view.
“You’ve got some scrapes and maybe a slight concussion. I’m going to check you out,” she says, scanning him with professional detachment. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Albert Han…” he answers, dazed.
By the time he turns his head again, Panikkar is already back on the engine.
Albert can only catch a glimpse of the man’s profile through the window. The door is marked Station 105.
So, angels really do exist, Albert thinks.
＊＊＊
Albert Han is currently between jobs.
After leaving the fire service, he’d spent some time back in Seoul before returning to L.A. Recently, he’s been staying with the Buckley-Han house.
“—and then, this cute, hot firefighter caught me!” Albert says, flipping a pancake in the pan.
Chimney sips his coffee, listening with only half an ear. “We have a deal. As long as you’re staying under our roof, there’s a strict ‘no‑overnight‑guests’ policy.”
“I know!” Albert insists. “I swear, I’ve turned over a new leaf. Just like Buck. Albert 1.0 is dead and gone.”
“But based on your record —” Chimney pauses pointedly.
“That’s an angel we’re talking about, Howard!” Albert protests, sounding genuinely offended. “Don’t be so disrespectful!”
Maddie walks in just then, finally home from her shift. She catches the tail end of the argument and smirks. “An angel?”
“Albert met a ‘cute and hot firefighter,’” Chimney explains, then winces slightly. “I don’t even know how I feel about saying this.”
Maddie walks over and gives Chimney a quick kiss. “Sounds like someone’s smitten.” She sets her bag down, looking curious. “Did you get the cute and hot firefighter’s number?”
“Not yet,” Albert says, handing her a plate. “But I do know the cute and hot firefighter works at the 105.”
Albert still hasn’t found a steady job, but he’s promised Howard and Maddie he’ll help watch the kids while they’re on shift.
“The 105…” Chimney muses, picking up his phone. “I don’t really know anyone over there, but I remember our probie just pulled a shift there.”
“Wait — since when do they send new recruits to other stations for support?” Albert asks, confused.
“Oh, he’s actually been with the 118 for almost five years,” Chimney says casually. “We just call him that out of habit.”
“Right. Okay. That’s…” Albert shrugs. He still doesn’t quite get the internal logic of firefighter culture. Even though he isn’t one anymore, it feels like his connection to them is deeper than he’d thought.
“Maybe this is what the universe is trying to tell me,” Albert realizes aloud. “I still like firefighters. Maybe the job isn’t for me, but I have to admit, that uniform? It’s a very, very attractive look —”
Chimney, who is currently wearing said LAFD uniform, chokes on his coffee.
Maddie blinks, calmly handing her husband a napkin as he sputters.