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It started, like most of Buck’s moments, with good intentions and terrible timing.
The call had been straightforward enough—a car accident with minor injuries and a small fuel leak. Bobby had been crystal clear: “Secure the scene, wait for Hazmat, no heroics.”
So naturally, Buck decided it would be a great time to leap onto the overturned vehicle, pry open the passenger door, and hoist the injured man out like Captain America on a caffeine high.
By the time Hazmat rolled up, Buck was already patting himself on the back, drenched in gasoline, and grinning like a golden retriever who’d just dug up the neighbor’s flowerbed.
Bobby just stared at him. “Buck. What. Did. I. Say?”
“I heard you,” Buck said, shrugging. “But the guy was screaming, Bobby. I couldn’t just not help.”
“You heard me,” Bobby repeated slowly, eyes narrowing. “And you ignored me.”
“That’s not fair—I adjusted the plan!”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll adjust something too.”
Back at Station 118, the team barely had their gear off when Bobby turned around and pointed sternly at Buck.
“Time out.”
Buck blinked. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me,” Bobby said, crossing his arms. “Go sit on the bench. No talking, no pouting, just reflect.”
Hen, halfway through sipping her water, nearly choked. “Wait, are you putting him in actual time out?”
“Yes,” Bobby said, with the calm steeliness of a man who had finally snapped. “He wants to act like a child, he can sit like one.”
Eddie stifled a laugh but failed miserably. “This is the best day of my life.”
Chimney pulled out his phone like a paparazzo. “Smile, Buck. Say ‘I disobeyed a direct order!’”
Buck slumped onto the station’s bench with the most exaggerated sigh in human history. “This is so unfair,” he muttered, arms folded like an eight-year-old denied dessert.
Bobby ignored the dramatic groan as he walked by. “Ten minutes. And I want a real apology this time. Not one of those, ‘I’m sorry you were mad’ apologies.”
Buck looked up with big, wounded eyes. “I am sorry!”
Eddie snorted. “He looks like he just got grounded from cartoons.”
Hen leaned against a locker, smirking. “Bet he tries to sneak off in five.”
“I heard that!” Buck called out, then immediately caught Bobby’s glare. He clamped his mouth shut and folded his arms tighter.
Chimney sat beside him, mock-serious. “Need a juice box, buddy?”
Buck looked at him with the full force of betrayal. “Traitor.”
“Love you too,” Chimney replied with a grin, ruffling Buck’s hair.
Ten minutes later, Buck finally approached Bobby with the most sheepish expression known to man.
“I’m sorry, Cap. I mean it. I shouldn’t have disobeyed. I just—I saw someone in trouble and my brain skipped the whole ‘listen first’ part. Again.”
Bobby studied him for a beat, then gave a small nod. “Apology accepted. Try not to make it a habit.”
Hen, from across the room: “Too late!”
Eddie: “Think we should build him a permanent time-out corner?”
Buck: “I hate all of you.”
Chimney: “We hate you too, buddy.”
Laughter erupted as Buck finally cracked a smile. And even Bobby couldn’t help the little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was infuriating how used to Buck’s antics he’d become—but maybe, just maybe, time-out wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
-
Just as the teasing was dying down and Buck had started to sulk less dramatically, the station doors swung open.
“Athena alert,” Hen said casually, nudging Eddie with her elbow.
Buck’s head snapped up. “Athena!” He shot up from the bench like he hadn’t just been in time out five minutes ago.
Athena Grant, radiant as always in her LAPD uniform, walked in with her usual air of unshakeable calm and quiet authority. She smiled at the room like a mother surveying her rowdy adopted children.
“Hey, everyone. I was in the area. Thought I’d drop by and say hi before my shift ends.”
“Perfect timing,” Chimney whispered to Hen. “He’s about to tattle.”
Buck, predictably, bounded over like an overgrown puppy.
“Athena,” he said, looking wounded and indignant. “Bobby put me in time out. Like, actual time out. On the bench. Like I’m five.”
Athena raised an eyebrow, amused. “And what exactly did you do to deserve it?”
“I saved someone!”
Eddie coughed, “By walking into a literal gas leak after being told not to.”
Buck spun around. “Not helping!”
Athena looked at Bobby with a barely-contained grin. “Time out, huh?”
Bobby just shook his head. “It was that or duct tape.”
Athena laughed, walking over to Buck and gently cupping his cheek. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Buck immediately leaned into the gesture like a needy child. “Can you scold him for me? Just a little?”
She smiled wider, brushing her thumb across his cheek fondly. “No, but I will say this—you’re brave, Buck. But there’s a difference between being brave and being reckless. You’ve got too many people who care about you to be throwing yourself into danger like that.”
Buck deflated just a little, nodding. “I know.”
“I’ll give you a pass,” Athena said, her voice soft, “on one condition.”
Buck perked up. “Anything.”
She leaned closer. “You come get ice cream with me. My treat. But only if you promise to be more careful next time.”
Buck lit up instantly. “Deal!”
“Wait, he gets ice cream?” Hen exclaimed, mock offended. “He disobeys orders and gets rewarded?”
Athena winked at her. “He already got punished. And besides—he’s still my favorite troublemaker.”
Buck beamed, already grabbing his jacket. “This is why you’re my favorite.”
As they walked toward the door, Bobby called after him, “You’re still not off the hook. Tomorrow you’re on mop duty for a week.”
Buck paused. “Ice cream and mop duty. I’m living a full life today.”
Athena just laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Come on, time-out kid. Let’s go get you something cold before you combust again.”
The four of them stood there as they watched Buck talk happily besides Athena as they head out of the station.