I Am Morgan

Chapter 3: Proffessional Courtesy

"Nope," I smile and he stares at me.

"I swear there's something seriously wrong with you." He jokes and I playfully hit his arm.

"You should try one of my meals one day, you'd like it." I think for a moment, "hey, let me cook you all dinner this evening."

There's a few mumbles and a few groans before Mouch says, "but it's Chilli night."

"Next shift then,"

"But that's..."

"You can have taco night next week, I wanna cook."

"Cooking is the Candidates job." Casey retorts entering the room and taking his usual seat at the head of the table.

"So we'll cook what I want to cook, but Mills can help me. Problem solved." They roll their eyes but I take it as a yes and I start to think about what I could make them.

Chicken and steamed vegetables? Maybe a vegan Mac and Cheese, that could be fun (I'm not vegan btw). Ooh, what about a caesar salad?

"That ain't gonna cut it." Cruz looks at the broken T.V. opposite the couch.

"Sign's out front." Mouch shrugs, "It's just a matter of time till a good samaritan steps up."

"We can do that?" Mills asks.

The television is important to the firefighters here, it keeps us entertained for 24 hours when the calls are sparse and ours doesn't work any more so we've put up a sign for donations.

"Oh, yeah." Mouch nods, "It's frowned upon, but it's not illegal per standards and procedures. Last year, we got the new... what was it?"

"Microwave." Herrmann answers.

"Got the new microwave by doing this." nods Mouch.

"It took three months to get the new microwave. The bears game is this Sunday." Cruz argues.

"What we got in the treasury box?" asks Casey.

"Dick," Herrmann replies, "We spent it all on the elliptical machine so Mo could keep her ass toned."

"Oh, Herrmann, please." I roll my eyes, "Everyone benefits from me having a toned ass. Besides, it's good.."

"To keep healthy." Everyone groans the line I use a lot and I glare at them.

"Mills, you're in charge of a fundraiser for a new TV." Casey decides.

"Instead of cooking?"

"In conjunction with cooking."

"I believe it's called multitasking." Otis says with a mouth full of food and I grimace at him, his moustache and his unkept hair on his head. "And get some ideas together asap."

"Casey." Dawson calls and he leaves the room with her.

Mills gets a piece of paper and starts jotting down ideas for a fundraiser while I finish my breakfast and then wash up. I sit down and flick through a fashion magazine while the others read newspapers, chat and do a bit of work for their second jobs.

Mills stands up and clears his throats, "A neighbourhood hotdog eating contest."

"Ah, too tacky." Mouch doesn't even look up from whatever he's reading.