In Flames // 9-1-1 Fox (seasons 1-4)

eighteen

"You look happy," Hen hummed as Mariana practically skipped up to the second floor of the firehouse. The brunette grinned and dropped onto the couch next to Hen.

"I had my first shift back at the hospital two nights ago and I still feel amazing. Now, maybe Bobby will let me back into the field."

Hen chuckled, bumping her shoulder against the younger paramedic. Mariana used to work to distract herself from her inner thoughts. Now, Mariana worked because she truly felt like she was making a difference. The change in her was truly remarkable.

"What do you think a female firefighter calendar would look like?" the brunette mused.

"Like a Playboy magazine." They dissolved into laughter at the accuracy of the statement.

"I'd want a calendar full of female firefighters and paramedics working in the line of duty. Nothing posed. Just candid photos," Mariana sighed once they calmed down. Before Hen could respond, the alarm rang. Mariana settled back and pouted, wishing she could be out on that call.

"Mari! We need medical on this!" Bobby shouted as he raced out of his office and to the firepole. Her brown eyes widened and she glanced over at Hen who shooed her towards the stairs.

"You heard the man!"

She dashed downstairs and bolted to the ambulance, a feeling of peace washing over her. Finally, she was back where she belonged.

The truck rolled out first and Buck waved from the driver's seat. Mariana flashed a thumbs up and quickly followed. Once they rolled on scene did Mariana find out the nature of the emergency.

"A grenade?" she hissed as they entered the home. "You guys couldn't have thrown me a soft pitch to start the game?"

"Aw, we can't make it too easy on you," Buck cooed and she threw him one of her infamous glares.

"Fire and rescue, hello!" Bobby called out. The house was decorated with military and historical memorabilia from top to bottom.

"What kind of militia nut...?" Buck whispered as they walked towards the man's voice that was calling out for them. Bobby pushed open a door and then hurried in. Mariana was quick to dash around to the other side of the man, sliding off her medic bag.

"What's your name, sir?" she asked, pulling out her penlight from her pocket.

"C-Charlie."

"Can you tell us what happened, Charlie?"

"Damn grenade went off while I was taking it apart."

"Why were you taking apart a grenade?" Buck questioned.

"I was cleanin' it. I'm a collector."

"We, uh, we gathered that," Mariana said as she examined the wound. "You pulled the pin?"

"It ain't that kind of grenade. It's a forty mike mike. A practice round for an M-203 grenade launcher. I picked it up at a flea market. Part of my 'Nam collection. My screwdriver musta touched the propellor and charge. I-"

"I see metal and a lot of shrapnel. Femoral has been knicked but not severed and I don't want to clamp unless necessary. We need to move now," Mariana reported. "Get a gurney ready while I place a tourniquet as a precaution. Good?"

"On it," Buck shouted as he ran out. Mariana quickly wrapped the strap around Charlie's thigh and pulled it tightly before noting the time on her wrist watch. She then packed the wound with dressing to staunch the bleeding. "You are going to be placed in the hands of the best doctors in LA, Charlie. I'll make sure of it."