Blaze (Norminah)

One

.Normani Kordei Hamilton.

I released an exasperated sigh as the harsh sound of an unwelcome alarm invaded my ears and mind. So much for that wonderfully dirty dream about Beyoncé in a hot tub. I flung my hand at the alarm, shutting it up. In a last ditch effort, I squeezed my eyes shut and pursed my lips. I'm asleep.

"Nice try, Mani," The brunette mass of curls next to me chuckled, "It doesn't really work like that, the day is starting whether you pretend you're asleep or not."

"You're mean."

"Yeah, I know. It's horrible that you never get to the good parts of a sexy dream about Mrs.Carter." Zendaya eyed me mockingly.

I groaned, "Ugh, how did you know that's what I was dreaming about?" I could feel myself blush.

Zendaya grinned at me, "That's what you always dream about on nights when I work late and you go to bed without me. Plus, you spend way too much time around men."

I smiled lazily, and sighed, "Yep, I guess she is my stand in, and you've always known I'm one of the guys. So, shoot me."

"I don't think I'm going to do that, I like having you around." Zendaya smiled, and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom.

I decided that moving from the bed wasn't something I was interested in yet, so I laid back and stared at the ceiling. Morning sucks.

Zendaya emerged from the bathroom a little while later, "Normani, get out of bed. It really is time now." She strode over to the bed, swooped down, letting her curls cover my face, placed a quick kiss on my cheek, and headed to the door. "Get up, I'll see you for lunch."

I watched as she left, things were going pretty well with Zendaya. We've been together for almost a year now. We weren't officially living together yet, but I was considering asking her soon. It feels like something it's time to do. Like I said, we're good.

I let another sigh, this time in defeat. Morning won. I'm up. I padded to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water soothed my well defined muscles, finally bringing me into the realm of awake.

After I dressed and gathered my things, I trudged out to my car. I drove the three point two miles to the Fire Department Station 27. I was starting a forty-eight hour shift, and really, I love it. The actual getting up in the morning thing sucked, but once I am working, I'm totally into it, and have been since I finished the academy eight years ago. Fire fighting seems like an odd choice for me, for any woman, but that's all I've ever wanted to be, well, since I was seven.

I swerved my T-Bird into my designated parking spot and jumped out of the car. I glanced at my watch and realized that I was a teensy-weensy late. I sped up to a jog and bolted through the door, completely intending to slink past the Captain's office. My plan was foiled as I realized, a little too late, that someone was standing just inside the door. I skidded right into the back of a tall figure. Coffee splashed and a plate clattered. The figure turned slowly around, fixing me with a silent and dangerous glare.

I cleared my throat and nodded curtly, "Captain Cowell." I turned to scoot past him, glancing at the ground I added, "Oh, pancakes. Nice choice, Sir." I made a beeline for the bunks, but a rough British voice shattered that dream.

"Hamilton."

I spun around, "Sir?" I asked cheerily. I'm not above playing the innocent woman card.

His eyes narrowed, letting me know he wasn't buying it, "You're almost ten minutes late, and you spilled my breakfast. What do you have to say for yourself?"