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"You're not my fucking parent Buck"
⛔️Trigger warning ⛔️
Chapter 11: Natural Disaster 2x02/3:7.1
Delia was in the kitchen helping Bobby cook breakfast. She flips over an omelet while Bobby hands a cooked omelet to Chim.
"You ever feel like you missed your calling, Cap?"
" What are you thinking? Michelin-rated restaurant or short order cook?" He smiles at Delia bumping their shoulders together playfully.
" I was thinking TV chef. I mean, what you do, it's like performance art."
" Mm-hmm, and much like watching cooking on TV, we never get to taste anything. Usually, by the time it hits the table, the bell goes off." Hen takes half of Chim's omelet off his plate.
" All right, speed around. If you weren't doing this, what would you be doing?"
"Fighter pilot. Top gun. Call sign: shogun." Hen laughs along with Delia.
" What about you, Hen?"
" Editorial cartoonist, The New Yorker." She sits down next to Chim as everyone gives her a look. "I have a lot to say"
"You draw?"
"No, it's a dream. It's not supposed to be attainable. Topgun? You can barely drive, you rebar head." Buck walks up grabbing an apple.
"Hey. All right, Buckaroo. If you were not a member of the LAFD: what would you be doing?"
" Uh, I don't know. I'm not getting fired, am I?"
" That's inevitable."
"He'd be a golden retriever."
" No, a bartender. No, no, no, a bouncer at a bar."
" A bouncer at a strip club," Hen speaks up as he and Delia's eyes go wide with excitement; they all smile and laugh.
" What." They high-five.
" What about you Del? If you were not a member of the LAFD what would you be doing?"
"Singer, artist, Doctor." she walks over to her cabinet grabbing some seasonings.
"Singer?"
"What?"
"Artist, you draw?" Bobby questions as Delia looks away from her omelet grabbing a plate.
