BURNED - A Chicago Fire Fanfiction

Chapter Eight

"Keep telling yourself that." K'eon reached into my cart and took a box of pasta from it before rushing to the front of my cart. "Very mature, K'eon."

"Me? Mature? Hardly. You however, are a natural dark skinned Betty Crocker, aren't you?" I swiped my hand at the box, but K'eon moved it out of my reach. "Oh Betty! Make me a casserole please?" I swiped my hand at the box again, but K'eon moved it away once more.

"What's going on here?" Otis asked as he walked up beside me.

"Nothing, Mr. Serious Man," K'eon chuckled. Otis rolled his eyes and yanked the box out of K'eon's hand and tossed it back into the cart. "Ooh, what are you, her boyfriend or something?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. And I don't like how you're treating my girlfriend." My face instantly went red.

"Oh, my God," K'eon guffawed. "Honey, you should see your face."

"Um, Brian," I cleared my throat. "This is K'eon McNeil, my best friend, ex-paramedic partner from Ladder 15–"

"And a flaming homosexual," K'eon informed. "Relax, Brian, I ain't after your boo, I'd be more interested in you." Brian's face turned even redder than mine which made K'eon laugh once more.

"K'eon has a knack for comedy," I informed. "However, it's also paired with the lack of ability to be serious."

"Guilty," K'eon put his hands up.

"He moved down here with me."

"Oh...sorry," Otis apologized.

"Well, I better leave you and your...boyfriend...to your grocery shopping." K'eon gave me a playful wink. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya." Otis and I watched as K'eon walked away and disappear into another aisle.

"I, uh," Otis cleared his throat. "I-I'm not—I'm not your—I was just—"

"I know," I shook my head with amusement. "Did you get your list finished?"

"What? Oh! Yeah, I just wrapped up. What about you?"

"Somewhat. I've got pasta, rice, flour, and tuna."

"Tuna?"

"What, no one like tuna?"

"We do, but fish and working in the extreme heat doesn't exactly mix."

"Right," I sighed.

"Sorry."

"I'm a firefighter now, I gotta cook like a damn firefighter," I mumbled to myself.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I reassured. "Just mentally reminding myself that I'm not working as a paramedic anymore."

"It's easier to cook for paramedics, isn't it?"

"You have no idea," I tittered.

"Would you like some meal prep help? I mean, I don't normally cook, but I kinda know what's safe and not safe."

"That would be great. I mean, just until I get a hang of it, right?"

"Of course. So, what did you have in mind?" Otis reached into the cart and removed the cans of tuna. "Minus this."

"Well, with the pasta, I was going to make a tuna casserole, but seeing that I'm not doing that, I'm thinking maybe chicken riggies?"

"What's that?"

"A popular chicken and rigatoni pasta dish from New York."

"Sounds good. Is it spicy?"

"It's customizable," I reassured.