a/n: i did not proofread the smut so i apologize if it's bad lmao but scott and sunny have finally gotten their happy ending! turns out writing fluff is much harder for me than i anticipated but i love love love them

divider credits to @pixopix!!

part 1 part 2 part 3

It’s been a week since the crash.

It took five days to fix the truck–less time than you were expecting–and you were all on the road early yesterday morning.

Now you’re back in Oklahoma–and since the unusually active tornado season is coming to an end–very happily back in your own apartment for the first time in months.

Living out of motels is only fun for about two days.

The Wranglers, you’ve learned, don’t have a timeline to return to Arkansas–something you’d guess has to do with Tyler and Kate’s relationship–so what better way to celebrate surviving a crash than to invite them all out with your team?

“Are you sure the county fair is a good idea?” Scott asks from your bathroom doorway, arms crossed as he leans against it. “You’ve been out of the hospital for less than a week.”

“It’s not like I’m doing anything crazy,” you assure him, straightening your shirt. “And I haven’t had a headache in three days. It was, like, barely a concussion.”

He glares at you, but there’s no real irritation behind it. “Still a concussion.”

“Well, I feel great. And we haven’t seen them in weeks!”

“How awful,” he deadpans under his breath with a small smirk.

You smack him with your good arm. “Hey!”

He laughs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Unfortunately, they’re not horrible people.”

You pout. “You’re the worst.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You hum. “Can you help with these?” You hold out a pair of stud earrings, lifting your right arm in its sling to signal why you can’t yourself.

He takes them and gently threads each one through a piercing before fixing the backs on them. 

You can’t help but stare with how close he is, eyes locking onto the freckles that litter his nose.

How the fuck did you get so lucky?

When he goes to pull away, you pucker your lips and raise your eyebrows expectantly.

He rolls his eyes playfully but leans down and pecks your lips.

“Okay, we need to go,” he says, straightening up.

“Wait!” You spin in a circle. “Does the sling ruin the vibe of my outfit?”

He blinks at you once.

Twice.

“What?”

“The vibe,” You sigh, like he should just understand. “Does the sling ruin it?”

“You look fine, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, head tilted, eyebrows drawn together.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine?”

His face twists further in confusion. “Yes?”

“Fine?” You repeat incredulously.

He frowns. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Because fine means mediocre at best. Do I look mediocre at best?” You ask, good hand on your popped hip.

He looks genuinely bewildered, shaking his head. “What? No. You look good!”

You stare at him for a long moment.  

“You are helpless.”

His face instantly morphs from confusion to offense. “Hey!”

“Hey!” You mock with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go.” You shut the bathroom light off behind you.

“Evil, evil woman,” Scott mumbles as he follows you.

- - - -

Unsurprisingly, you’re the last to arrive. 

As you approach the large group waiting around in the parking lot, everyone’s attention snaps to you both.

“Sunny!” Boone booms, nearly tackling you in a bone-crushing hug, though still cautious of your shoulder. “You look beautiful for someone who was just in a car crash.”

“Hear that?” You ask Scott, tilting your head up to look at him. “I’m beautiful.”

“Uh oh,” Kate whispers. “He must’ve fucked up.”

“Watch it, man,” Scott warns Boone, pointedly ignoring Kate’s comment. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Um, no I am not,” you say, shaking your head.

Everyone freezes around you.

Scott stares down at you, brows drawn together. “Uh… what?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You haven’t asked me yet.”

“I thought confessing my love would mean I didn’t have to ask!” 

Multiple loud gasps. 

“You said you love her?!” Lily asks with a squeal.

“He said he loves you?!” Javi asks at the same time, sounding deeply offended he’s just finding out.

“Did you say it back?” Dani asks you, leaning closer. 

“I did,” you confirm with a single sharp nod, earning another squeal from Lily.

“You still gotta ask, man,” Tyler tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder briefly.

“What the hell?” Scott asks, hands upturned in front of him. “Uh, okay. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You blink.

“No.”

Some people choke, some snort, someone–Boone, you’d guess–gasps dramatically behind you.

“What? Why not?” Scott asks, a hint of desperation in his tone.

You tilt your head. “First off–you asked like it was being tortured out of you. Second–that doesn’t count. Everybody’s watching.”

“I didn’t know that mattered,” he mutters.

“Dude.” Dani laughs.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” You ask him, only half-kidding.

“Yes, I’ve had girlfriends before!”

You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t wanna know that.”

“You’re impossible,” he says, exasperated.

Dexter shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Making it worse,” he warns.

“I asked Kate, privately, after a fancy dinner,” Tyler says, shrugging.

You gesture toward him, eyebrows raised. “See? A little basic, but.”

You ignore Tyler’s offended tsk, but can’t stop the amused smile that slips through when you watch Kate pat his arm comfortingly.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Jesus,” he exhales. “Okay, I will ask you in a more private location.”

“Sounding like you mean it,” you add.

“Sounding like I mean it,” he sighs.

“Maybe with flowers,” Lily adds helpfully.

You turn toward her. “Ooh, I love flowers.”

She nods at Scott. “With flowers.” More certain this time.

“Can you all stop meddling in my love life? I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you guys,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat in his tone.

The others laugh loudly. Still, you elbow him. “Apologize.”

 He huffs. “Sorry.”

You nod once, sharply, before Boone ushers you all toward the ticket booth, muttering something about Scott being whipped.

You miss the sickeningly fond look in Scott’s eyes as he follows you.

- - - -

“What are we doing?” You ask once again. 

After the fair, Scott told you he had ‘the perfect date’ planned, but refused to give you any details. All you got was that you had less than 24 hours to mentally prepare and you immediately protested.

Surprises are stressful, okay?

“Stop asking, I’m not telling you,” he says, almost bored, from where he’s laying next to you in your bed.

It’s only 10 am. 

Your plans aren’t until 8 pm.

You prop yourself up on your good elbow, glaring down at him with your most intimidating stare. 

It doesn’t work. 

No amount of begging throughout the day works.

You even resort to bribery. 

Nothing.

The asshole doesn’t even look tempted to spill.

Finally, 7 pm rolls around and suddenly you realize you don’t even know what to dress for.

“I can’t pick out an outfit if you don’t tell me what we’re doing,” you try, glaring at him.

He just shrugs! 

“Something casual.”

You want to explode him with your mind.

“So jeans?”

He shrugs again.

“Sure.”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘sure?’” You ask incredulously. 

He looks taken aback by your reaction. “I just mean you can wear jeans if you want!”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What are you wearing?”

“Literally just jeans and a t-shirt. Good lord,” he exhales.

You nod, finally getting something. “Thank you. Will I need the sling?”

“You should be wearing it no matter what,” he chastises.

You wave him off. “Is it physical enough that I’ll need it?”

He sighs, knowing he won’t win that argument. “No.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“Bring a sweater–just in case,” he calls after you as you go to your room to dig through your closet. 

“So it’s outside?” You ask, running back into the living room with a wide smile.

He just stares for a moment before shooing you back toward your bedroom. “Go get ready.”

You groan loudly, but go back to rummaging through your closet anyway, calling over your shoulder that he isn’t allowed to look at you until you’re dressed.

30 minutes and many outfit changes, later, you’re happy with what you’ve chosen. Your cutest pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt in your favorite color, and a light hoodie to bring with.

It feels basic–maybe too basic–but he didn’t really give you much to work with. Not to mention, he’s seen you drenched to the bone with rain and covered in mud and still wants to date you, so… this will have to work.

When you leave your bedroom he’s just stepping out of the bathroom, changed into the aforementioned jeans and t-shirt.

What he failed to mention was that he chose his sluttiest black t-shirt. The one that hugs his biceps and makes you drool.

The one he knows is your favorite.

“Oh, you are not playing fair,” you pout.

He chuckles lowly. “It’s just a t-shirt,” he says, but based on the grin on his face, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Mm, I didn’t even mention the shirt. You did that intentionally,” you argue, pointing at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

You finish getting ready, hopping on one foot as you shove on your shoes. As you turn toward where he stands at the door, you watch in slow motion as he grabs his hat off the hook on the wall and puts it on.

Backwards.

Again.

You don’t even have to say anything. 

He catches you staring, flashing a smug smirk before opening the door, gesturing for you to go first.

- - - -

Scott lets you control the music, listens to all of your rambling about… everything.

You glance at his truck’s clock at one point and whip your head toward him when you notice he’s been driving for an hour. “Dude. Where are we going?”

He grimaces. “Don’t call me dude.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. Where are we going, bro?”

He turns to glare at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “I will turn around.”

You groan dramatically, looking out the window. You’re well out of the city now, surrounded by open fields. “Are you gonna, like, kill me?”

“Yup,” he deadpans. “Risked the company’s funding, planned the perfect date, and wore your favorite outfit just to kill you.”

You sigh deeply, shaking your head. “Knew it. Never trust a man.”

Another 15 minutes pass with you singing along to your music before he finally pulls off down a dirt road. 

You sit up straight, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings, but the only light is coming from the headlights. “Okay, seriously, where are we?”

“You will find out in, like, two seconds. Relax.”

You stay silent, but can’t help but bounce your leg and lean forward in your seat as he keeps driving down the dark road. 

Finally, the truck slows to a stop in front of a barn that looks like it hasn’t been used in years–headlights illuminating peeling paint and dust-covered windows.

You glance between the windshield and his face for a few moments before chuckling nervously. “You were joking about killing me, right?”

He laughs–actually laughs–at that. “Oh, my god, yes, I was joking about killing you.” He unbuckles and turns to face you, shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “My grandparents used to own this land–Riggs got it when they died but we never use it. Obviously,” he adds, gesturing toward the rundown building.

You look out at the barn again, then at your surroundings–nothing but overgrown fields. 

Then you turn back to him, feeling your stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with the potential of becoming a murder victim now. 

“Why…” You pause, chewing your lip, trying to figure out a way to ask ‘why are we here?’ without it sounding rude. 

Thankfully, he beats you to it.

“The, uh, meteor shower is supposed to peak tonight,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen.

You mentioned it half-asleep in some motel weeks ago after seeing a post online–just saying you thought it would be cool if you could catch it. 

You were pretty sure he was going through the data from the chase you’d just gotten done with at the time–he barely even acknowledged the comment.

“Are you about to cry?” He asks, suddenly looking extremely concerned.

“What?” You ask, then realize there’s most definitely tears collecting along your waterline. You sniffle and quickly wipe your eyes. “No, that would be stupid.”

He cracks a small smile at that and you can see the cockiness returning.

“Told you it was perfect.”

“Shut up,” you grumble half-heartedly, pushing open your door and stepping into the cool night air.

He meets you at your side of the truck and finds you staring at the barn. 

“What?” He asks, tilting his head to look down at you.

“Did you come here as a kid?”

He nods, humming in confirmation, looking back at the building. “I liked to play with the farming equipment–tractors, combines, things like that–so my grandpa would bring me sometimes.”

“Did they live close by?” 

“Uh, a few acres over, yeah. We don’t own the house anymore, though.”

You hum, grabbing onto his hand and leaning into his side. You try to imagine a younger Scott around the barn, climbing on the machinery, running through the fields.

The image makes your heart twist painfully.

“I’m glad you can still come back here,” you say softly, looking up at him with your cheek pressed against his arm.

He looks down at you again with a soft smile and even softer eyes. “Me too.” He presses a quick kiss to your lips before straightening back up, instructing you to stay put.

He rounds the truck and opens the back door behind the driver’s seat. He takes a couple of trips to the bed, telling you not to look when you keep trying to steal glances.

You spend the next few minutes taking in your surroundings better now that you’re outside. The sounds of him clambering around in the truck are easy to drown out when you focus on the way the wind rustles the overgrown fields.

Finally, you hear dirt crunching behind you and turn to see him standing there, holding out a hand. You grab it, letting him lead you to the open tailgate.

He’s lined the bed with blankets and pillows, and in the middle sits a cooler and a few plastic bags full of snacks.

“I couldn’t get flowers, since we’ve been at your place, but I will tomorrow. That way you can pick them out, too,” he says quietly, watching you blink rapidly at the truck.

Then, you turn…

And shove him.

“Hey!” He laughs, barely moving at your push.

“You’re gonna make me cry, asshole!” You say, sniffling as tears prick the back of your eyes again.

He just chuckles again and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. 

Your fake anger fades quickly as you wrap your arms around his middle, melting into him. 

He presses a quick kiss to the top of your head before releasing you. 

“Okay, come on.” He hops up onto the tailgate, making it groan softly under his weight, before holding a hand down to help pull you up.

Once you’re both seated, he opens the cooler and dumps out the plastic bags, revealing all of your favorite snacks and drinks–including energy drinks despite the time.

But your focus isn’t on the snacks right now.

You gently push him to sit back against the pillows and he raises his eyebrows, but you just sit between his legs, your back to his chest.

Immediately, his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as you both look up at the sky and your breath catches.

You’ve never seen the stars like this–surrounded by complete darkness, no distant light pollution. 

It’s unreal.

Minutes stretch by as you both sit in silence, captivated by the sheer brightness of the twinkling stars above. 

The only sounds are your soft breathing and the slight rustle of the field in the calm wind. 

Eventually, you mutter, “You still haven’t asked.”

You feel the rumble of his chest more than you hear his low chuckle. “I’m getting there.”

You just hum, still mesmerized by the sky, when a meteor streaks across the sky.

You gasp, louder than you mean to, and slap at his arm.

“Did you see that?” You hiss, trying to twist to face him.

“I saw,” he confirms, tightening his hold slightly so you can’t turn. “Keep watching,” he whispers against your ear, causing you to shiver.

When multiple meteors suddenly cut through the darkness at once, you can’t even find it in you to argue–just stare, mouth open.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks quietly from behind you, head resting against yours.

You manage to tilt your head enough to look at him. “You were waiting until it started?”

He just nods.

“You romantic motherfucker.”

He chokes, unable to stop the laugh that jostles you both. “Oh, my god, please just answer the question.”

“Obviously I’ll be your girlfriend, Scott,” you exhale, twisting further to press a kiss to his lips.

One of your hands rests on his chest, the other on his thigh as he kisses you back eagerly, bringing his hands up to cup your face. 

“I love you,” you breathe out against his lips.

He tightens his grip, kissing you again. “I love you, too.” Another kiss.

You both pull back, foreheads resting together for a moment before you turn to face forward again. You scoot down a little, leaning your head back on his shoulder as you spend the rest of the meteor shower in comfortable silence.

- - - -

Scott parks the truck in the driveway of his house at 1:04 a.m. 

You should be exhausted–you are–but you’re also really fucking in love with the asshole to your left. 

So once you’re laying in bed–with him in nothing but his boxers and you in one of his shirts and a pair of panties–you don’t close your eyes right away.

He’s laying on his back with you sprawled halfway over him–one hand on his chest, a leg thrown over his–as he scrolls through his phone.

You wait until he sets it down on the nightstand, then lean forward to press a light kiss to his neck.

He tenses slightly, but doesn’t move away.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers in a warning, but tilts his head to give you better access anyway.

“Hm?” You kiss lower, slowly making your way to his shoulder.

He swallows roughly. “It’s late.”

You just hum, acknowledging that he’s right, but don’t stop.

Slowly, he brings a hand to your hip, gripping tightly as his chest rises more noticeably beneath you.

“Hey,” he breathes, squeezing your hip. You pull back and blink up at him, worried you might’ve misread the situation. But his pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed as he murmurs, “Let me,” before carefully shifting so he’s not under you anymore. 

Your throat goes dry as you nod, letting him maneuver you.

He rolls you onto your back and hovers over you, immediately leaning down to press his lips to yours. 

This one is more insistent than earlier–not demanding, but purposeful. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Because he does.

This isn’t your first time having sex, but it is your first time as an official couple.

Something about that makes it feel different.

Better.

The kiss turns hotter–a practiced dance of teeth and tongues that never fails to make you melt.

One of his hands runs up and down your side, toying with the hem of your–his–shirt. The other keeps himself propped up next to your head, making sure he doesn’t crush you.

You don’t think you’d mind if he did, though. 

You bring your arms around his neck, running your fingers through the messy curls at the back of his head, trying to keep him right where you want him. 

Unfortunately, air is still a necessity. But you barely have time to inhale before his lips are on the spot just below your ear that has your pulse jumping.

He starts with a small, testing peck, before gently sucking the skin. Your grip on his hair tightens when he decides to nip the spot with his teeth before immediately soothing it with his tongue. 

He presses a line of wet kisses down your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone that’s exposed by the loose collar of the shirt. 

“Scott,” you whine, fingers grabbing at whatever you can reach before trying to find purchase in the waistband of his boxers. 

He sits up fully, out of your reach now. “You need to learn to have patience.”

“You’re teasing me!” You pout, trying to pull him back down onto you.

He resists easily, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them to your sides.

Your eyes widen and your stomach flips.

“Relax,” he mutters, voice rough.

All you can do is nod dumbly at him, which makes him smirk. 

“Are you gonna be good if I let go of your hands?” He asks, tilting his head.

You nod again immediately, a frustrating mix of excitement and restraint warring inside you.

He releases your wrists and you force yourself to keep them stiff at your sides, fisting the sheets.

His eyes rake you up and down, noting the tension in your body, and his smirk only grows.

He runs his hands from your ankle to mid-thigh–stopping just before the hem of the shirt–and back again. Your entire body shivers at the feeling, and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he loves it. 

You can also tell by the very prominent tent in his boxers. 

The sight makes your mouth water.

“Scott,” you breathe out. “Stop teasing. Please.”

He clicks his tongue, continuing to stare down with his head tilted. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” you grumble.

“Use your words.”

You huff, cheeks burning with embarrassment, mouth still stubbornly shut. 

He waits a total of three seconds before moving to lay back down next to you. “Okay,” he sighs. “Goodnight.”

Your hands fly out to stop him mid-motion, eyes wide. “Wait!” When he freezes, looking down at you expectantly, you groan. “I want you to touch me,” you finally mutter.

The cocky grin returns to his face as he settles back over you. “There you go,” he draws out, finally bringing his hands to the hem of your shirt.

Teasingly, he drags the shirt up your thighs, fingers brushing your soft skin along the way, causing goosebumps to erupt.

When your panties are fully revealed you can’t help but squirm slightly. He shoots you a sharp look and waits until you’ve stilled completely to skim his fingertips lightly up your sides under your shirt before bringing them back down, fingers hooking into the waistband of the lace. 

You lift your hips as he slowly–so slowly–drags the fabric down your legs and tosses them carelessly onto the floor. You try to squeeze your legs closed, but his hands find your thighs once again, keeping them spread to expose your glistening core.

“That all from me?” He asks, head tilted, a taunting edge to his tone.

“Shup up,” you try to bite, but your voice comes out shaky.

His fingers tighten their grip on your thighs, digging hard enough you suspect–hope–it might leave marks. “Answer the question.”

“Yes,” you murmur, feeling more heat creep up your neck.

“Good girl,” he chuckles when you throw your head back against the pillow when he starts drawing tight circles on your clit with his thumb. “Knew this would be easy.”

“I’m not–” you’re cut off by a whine escaping your throat as he teases your entrance with a single fingertip. “I’m not easy,” you huff, raising your head to narrow your eyes at him.

“Not you,” he assures, sliding two fingers inside with no resistance, curling them just right. “Making you come.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, hands flying down to grip his wrist as the back of your head meets the pillow again.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, pumping his fingers while continuing the motions with his thumb.

His free hand drags your shirt to bunch above your breasts, then holds your hips in place when you try to rock them in time with his fingers–making you groan in frustration. He leans down, capturing a nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. 

Your back arches, pushing your chest closer to his face, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. Tension builds in your lower belly, coiling tighter as your legs start to tremble.

“Shit– Don’t stop,” you plead, pulling his hair harder.

He hums around your nipple before catching it with his teeth, tugging. You yank his hair hard enough to pull his head up, glaring up at him. 

“Fucker!”

He shoots you a crooked smile that makes it easy to forget why you’re mad before suddenly adding a third finger, punching the air from your lungs. 

“You gonna come?” He asks, less teasing, now.

You nod frantically, unable to stop the slew of moans leaving your lips. “I’m so close,” you pant, pulling his head down to smash your lips together. 

He kisses you with much more composure than you can manage–practically just panting into his mouth–and crooks his fingers one more time.

Your orgasm crashes over you hard–your entire body locked up and eyes squeezed shut before the tension drains away, leaving you boneless against the bed.

Scott continues to pump his fingers slowly as you come down from your high, withdrawing them only when you start to whimper from the overstimulation.

Time seems to stretch as you lay in silence, trying to catch your breath and gather the energy to open your eyes–only finding it when you feel Scott shift so he’s laying next to you. You turn to face him, keeping one cheek pressed to the pillow, finding him with a dopey grin on his face.

“Why are you so happy?” You ask, words slightly slurred.

“Take a guess,” he responds, grin still fully intact.

You give a flat ‘ha ha’ before flicking them down to the still very prominent tent in his boxers. You drag your gaze back to his face, pointing weakly with one hand. “Don’t you want help with that?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Wasn’t planning on it, no.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What? Why?”

“Because I just wanted to take care of you,” he says with a shrug.

You blink. “So now you don’t want to fuck me?”

His eyebrows raise. “Where the hell did I say that? You have a concussion, I’m not gonna make you do anything.”

You roll your eyes. “Again, haven’t had a headache in days. And you wouldn’t be making me do anything.”

He sighs, but there’s no real irritation behind it. Instead, he props himself up as well and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re exhausted.”

“So?”

“So, this isn’t transactional. I want you to sleep–I want to sleep.” He lays back down, gently brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “This isn’t the last time we’ll have sex, I can wait.”

For the third time tonight, the backs of your eyes burn.

Not because he’s rejecting you.

Because he’s not.

And who knew Scott fucking Miller could have genuine emotional intelligence?

He notices the wobble in your lip and immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” you huff with a sniffle. “That was just very mature of you and it was like a jumpscare.”

He snorts–actually fucking snorts–at that, and presses a firmer kiss to the top of your head. “God, I love you.”

“Sap,” you mumble, snuggling closer to him anyway. “...I love you, too.”

- - - -

You wake slowly–naturally–the next morning in Scott’s bed as his girlfriend.

Not sure you’ll ever get used to that.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes and discover he’s already awake, scrolling silently on his phone.

“Hi,” he greets, voice rough from sleep.

You hum in response, stretching dramatically with a loud groan. 

He doesn’t even blink–used to it by now.

You spend 15 minutes scrolling on TikTok next to him without a word before coming across a video that makes you pause.

In it, a girl eats a piece of sushi off of her boyfriend’s flexed bicep.

Scott turns to you curiously after the sound repeats for the fourth time. “Why are you watching the same video over and over?”

Wordlessly, you angle the phone toward him with a wicked grin on your face. He watches the video once, eyes widening when she eats the sushi, and his face immediately morphs into something like betrayal.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t even have to show your face!”

He spends a very long moment debating internally, and you watch it all play out on his face.

“Please?” You ask in your sweetest voice and his resolve instantly crumbles.

He hangs his head and murmurs, “Fine.”

You’re giddy and regret overtakes his features when you pull up a collection of favorites titled “gross couple shit.”

“Oh, my god, there’s more?”

You scoff. “You’ve seen my screentime, this can’t be surprising.”

“I’m surprised you’ve saved…” He leans over to look at the total number of videos in the collection, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull when he sees it. “102?!”

You shrug, scrolling to find a specific video. “Obviously I started this years ago. Had to be prepared.”

“Prepared?” He repeats incredulously.

“Relax,” you mutter, finding the video to show him. 

This one is a couple walking in opposite directions as if they don’t know each other and accidentally bumping shoulders. They turn to face each other and the girl shoves the guy before he pulls her into an intense kiss. 

This time, you have a huge smile on your face. 

“I won’t even post this one, but I need to do it.”

“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.

You play the video again, practically shoving it in his face. “Um, because it’s hot.”

He watches the video again, more intently this time, and his face slowly untenses ever so slightly. 

“It is kind of hot…” he mutters reluctantly.

You point at him triumphantly. “Told you!” Suddenly, you prop yourself up on one elbow as you realize you’ve never seen him on the app. “Do you even have TikTok?”

He scoffs, as if offended you’d think he would. “No.”

“At least 20 of these are things I saved specifically to send you once you asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“We were already dating.”

You frown. “Well yeah, but the distinction matters, we’ve been over this. You should download the app so I can send you them.”

“Just show me them.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout.

The sigh he lets out is long and dramatic, eyes closed as he tries to come up with an excuse, but ultimately fails. 

Without a word, he opens the app store on his phone, searches for TikTok, and downloads the app.

“I’m putting a screen time limit on this thing,” he grumbles. “I’m only downloading this so you can send me your videos, don’t expect me to spend hours scrolling.”

“That’s what they all say,” you say, patting his arm as you settle back next to him with a proud smirk.

- - - -

Two weeks later, the Wranglers still haven’t left Oklahoma and you’re officially healed from the crash, so you decide to take advantage by inviting everyone out once again–this time, to a bar.

A year ago, you wouldn’t have even gone with the team if you were invited out during the off season. Now, you’re the one making the plans.

You finally feel like you belong here. You have Kate–who very quickly became the best friend you needed–, the guys have stopped treating you like they have no idea how to be around you.

Scott finally figured his shit out–finally sees you.

And your near death experience managed to successfully forge a friendship between Storm Par and the Wranglers, which felt like an impossible task at the start of this chase season. So, overall, you’d say things are going very well for you right now.

Which is why you’re not afraid to let yourself finally have fun. Let loose. Actually be 23 years old, dammit.

The bar is stuffy and reeks of cheap beer and egos, but you’re too engrossed in a game of darts–and your third drink–with Dani, Kate, and Boone to care.

“You got this, Sunny!” Kate cheers from behind you, her palms flat on the standing table the four of you have claimed, making it tip precariously.

“No you don’t!” Dani shouts next, trying to throw you off your game.

“Dani!” Boone chastises through a poorly suppressed laugh.

You wave a hand behind you wordlessly, trying to get them all to shut up so you can focus. The tip of your tongue pokes between your lips as you aim carefully before releasing the dart and…

Missing entirely.

“Damn,” you curse, spinning back to face them dramatically.

As you do, your eyes briefly catch where Scott is standing with Javi, Tyler, Peter, Dexter, and Lily… and a woman you’ve never seen before standing between Scott and Tyler.

You watch her talk animatedly with everyone–Kate, Dani, and Boone following your gaze when they notice that your attention is elsewhere.

“Who’s that?” Dani asks.

“No idea,” you mutter, chewing on your lip. 

The four of you watch them interact for a few more moments–she laughs at something Lily says, tilts her head in interest when Dexter chimes in–and decide to turn back to your game when she doesn’t do anything incriminating. 

Boone takes his turn next–hitting a bullseye to your horror, then Kate–who does significantly worse, also to your horror. Right as Dani is about to step up to take hers, you take another glance at the others and watch in slow-motion as the woman laughs again–this time way too loudly–and grabs onto Scott’s forearm where it rests on the table.

Is there an alarm going off, or are your ears ringing?

“Uh oh,” Boone says, a hand over his mouth.

You stare, jaw dropped, eyes wide, completely frozen for what feels like hours. Then you turn to your friends, wide-eyed, voice higher than normal. “Um! Is she hitting on my boyfriend?”

Kate, ever the mediator, tries to reason, “Maybe she just needed to steady herself?”

“On my boyfriend?” 

She shrugs, wearing an apologetic expression

You whine, turning to look at them again and feel sick when her hands are still there and she’s now practically pressed to his side–which he looks increasingly uncomfortable with as he stares down at the table, jaw clenched so tightly you can see it from across the room.

You whip your head back to Kate. “Maybe she just needed to steady herself!” You mock.

She holds her hands up in surrender. “Yup. Misread that. My bad.”

When you look at Scott once again, he’s standing stiffly, trying to subtly scoot closer to Javi on his other side.

Now he decides to be nice?!

“I can’t go over there, right…?” You ask, picking at your nails, eyes locked on the point of contact.

“I’m sure Scott will handle it,” Dani assures you, patting your shoulder.

And she’s probably right…

He already looks uncomfortable, he won’t let it go on forever…

But the reassurance only works for about four seconds before you’re grabbing your drink without thought and marching over to the group as casually as possible, trying to hide the fact that you’re simultaneously fuming and deeply embarrassed. Kate, Dani, and Boone trail behind you, sharing uncertain glances.

“Hi,” you say sweetly when you reach them, sliding between Javi and Scott–who immediately presses a little further into your side once you’re there–and turn to the woman. “I’m Sunny, I don’t think we’ve met.”

She hums, smiling a little too wide. “I’m Claire. Just thought I’d come over and say hello to these very handsome, um, meteor…”

“Meteorologists,” you finish, voice still sickeningly sweet. “Yeah, they are pretty handsome, aren’t they?”

She chuckles. “They sure are. Especially this one here.” She pats Scott’s arm where her hands still rest and you can feel him stiffen next to you.

The rest of the table shares uneasy looks and Kate cuts in before you can. “Well, he has a girlfriend,” she says as lightly as possible.

Claire turns her head to look at Scott, seemingly oblivious to–or simply not caring about–the tension. “Oh! I didn’t know you were taken,” she says with a pout, but doesn’t move her hands. “I mean, it’s not like she’s here, right?” She chuckles.

You finally lean around Scott to see her more clearly, smile gone, eyes sharp. He opens his mouth, but you speak first. “Yeah, hi, I’m the girlfriend.”

Claire’s face does something complicated for a split second before morphing into something you can only describe as judgemental.

And she, very pointedly, still does not move.

“Oh!” Her eyes scan you up and down before settling back on your face, eyes narrowed slightly. “Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Okay,” Scott cuts in finally, physically removing her hands from his arm. “I think you should leave.”

His tone is firm, but not rude, and you’re a bit jealous of his restraint because right now you kind of want to rip her head off. 

She looks more embarrassed by the direct rejection than the fact that she was just hitting on a man in front of his girlfriend, but leaves the table without another word–just a final glance at Scott.

“What the fuck did she mean by that?” You ask incredulously the second she’s gone.

Scott doesn’t say anything. Just wraps an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side.

You tut but let yourself slowly start to relax into him. “That felt very mean.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your hair.

“She was just jealous,” Lily says, leaning across the table.

You scoff. “Of what? She was age appropriate and hot.”

“You’re hot,” Scott immediately argues, glaring down at you.

You point at him. “But not age appropriate.”

He rolls his eyes. “Haven’t had an issue with it yet.”

“Okay, well, what if you decide you want someone more mature? Who can, like, afford a mortgage or a car loan.”

“Why would I want someone who can afford those things when I can afford those things for both of us?” He sounds genuinely confused, but the teasing undertone is still there.

You swirl your straw in your drink, staring down at it. You want to make a joke about how that sounds like something a sugar daddy would say, or be annoyed with him for flexing his income, but you don’t.

He notices–because of course he does–as conversation picks back up around you at the table.

“Hey,” he says, gentler. When you don’t respond, he places a finger under your chin and carefully tilts your head up. His eyebrows are drawn together. “Are you actually upset?”

You shrug, trying to look back down at your drink. “No.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I don’t know if I want to be having this conversation in a crowded bar surrounded by everyone I know.”

He considers that for a moment, then takes your drink out of your hand, sets it down on the table, and grabs your hand to drag you outside.

“Hey!” You protest, but he just keeps walking.

He leads you outside and around the corner, stopping once you’re far enough away to avoid most of the foot traffic, and leans against the side of the building.

“Okay, we’re no longer in a crowded bar surrounded by everyone you know. Talk.”

You huff, looking down at your hands as you start to pick your nails. “It’s stupid,” you mutter.

He gently grabs one of your hands, prying it away from the other. “It’s not stupid if you’re upset over it.”

You look at him flatly. “I’m upset over stupid things literally all the time.”

“...Okay, fair,” he chuckles softly before turning serious once again. “Talk to me, please.”

You groan, avoiding eye contact, then rush out, “Sometimes I get worried you’re going to leave me for someone older.”

“Why would I do that?” He asks after a few moments.

You scoff. “Why would you do that? Um, because I’m, like, ten years younger than you. And you’re all mature and have a PhD and your own company and blah blah blah, and I’m just… I don’t know.” You shake your head and take your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can we just go back inside?”

“Hey, no, hold on.” He grabs your hand again and ducks his head to hold eye contact. “How long have you been worried about that?”

You drop your head back dramatically. “That’s not important.”

“No, it is important. Because if you’ve spent the entire time we’ve been together thinking that I’m just going to leave you, then that’s a problem.”

You bring your head back up, shrinking a little under the weight of his words. “I feel like I’m being yelled at,” you mumble. 

His face immediately softens. “Sorry. I’m not trying to yell at you. I just want you to see that you’re being stupid– nope, that’s worse. Hold on.” He takes a breath, looking up as he thinks through his words. “Do you think I didn’t have more ‘age appropriate’ options?”

Your face twists. “Do not make me think about that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I have a point I’m trying to make.”

You sigh deeply. “Fine. Yes, I’m sure you had more age appropriate options. You’re built like fucking Superman and you’re rich.”

“Comfortable,” he corrects.

“Scott.”

“Sorry.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I didn’t want the other options,” he says, cupping your face with both hands to make sure you really look at him. “I wanted the person who didn’t just let me get away with being an asshole when I was too stupid to realize what I felt. Who’s the most passionate meteorologist I’ve ever met. Who literally changed the fucking settings in Scarecrow on day one so she could control the music.”

He chuckles then, squeezing your face just a little tighter. “Got it? I wanted–still want–you.”

You frown, arms hanging loosely at your sides. “It’s very weird that you’re romantic now.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose. “So you’ve said.” His expression becomes serious again. “Do you believe me now, though?”

You search his face for any sign that he’s just trying to placate you, but you can’t find anything insincere. Your shoulders drop as you nod and mumble, “Yeah.”

“Good,” he breathes out, bending down to press a firm kiss to your lips before straightening back up, hands still on your face. “If you ever start to think about shit like that again, you tell me.”

“But it’s stupid,” you pout.

“It is,” he agrees, kissing you one more time before dropping his hands. “But it makes you upset, so stop pretending it doesn’t.”

You groan. “Fine.”

He nods once, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before leading you back inside the bar.

And for the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t only feel scary. 

It feels exciting.

a/n: the writers block went crazy with this one lmao honestly i'm not the happiest with the ending, but i'd be open to writing a part 4 if there's a want for it and will gladly take any suggestions for it!!

divider credits to @pixopix!!

part 1 part 2

Your phone buzzes from its spot on the nightstand and you know it’s a text from Kate.

She can wait.

You’re… preoccupied.

 But when it buzzes again. And again. Then starts to ring? You can’t ignore it anymore. 

Scott lifts his head from where his face was pressed into your neck, looking down at you with narrowed eyes. “Somebody better be dying.”

You roll your eyes, blindly slapping at the nightstand, not able to reach the phone with his weight still on top of you. “Can you grab that, please?” You ask with a huff after the third failed attempt.

He groans dramatically, but pushes himself up onto his knees, sitting between your legs. Once he’s handed you the phone, you answer it, ignoring his glare at the device.

“I’m busy,” you say to Kate, still a little breathless.

“It is seven o’clock in the morning,” her voice comes through the phone, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

“It sure is,” you shoot back flatly, slapping Scott’s hand away from where it’s starting to creep higher up your bare thigh. “Can I help you?”

“We’re all going to breakfast and apparently neither of you knows how to answer your phone. Are you coming with, or are you too busy?”

You tilt the phone away from your mouth slightly, looking up at Scott. “Everyone’s going to breakfast.”

He groans dramatically, leaning forward to smush his face against your chest. “Fine,” he mumbles, muffled into your shirt.

You bring your free hand up to tangle in the messy curls at the nape of his neck, chuckling as you angle the phone back toward your mouth. “Yeah, we’ll meet you outside in 10.”

“20,” Scott corrects before Kate can respond, tilting his head up, now resting his chin in the center of your chest. 

Kate makes a disgusted noise through the phone. “You two are gross,” is all she says before hanging up, causing you to laugh again.

- - - -

You both leave Scott’s motel room 23 minutes later, earning a loud ‘woo!’ from a couple of the guys–Javi being the loudest, as usual. Scott rolls his eyes while your cheeks burn, despite the fact you expected the reaction.

Breakfast at a nearby diner consists of a passionate discussion of the plans for the next few days. A tornado outbreak is expected across the Midwest, starting tomorrow, and you’re set to do the nearly 13 hour drive to Minnesota today.

“No, no, no,” you say, swallowing the food in your mouth and shaking your head. “We are not going to the Mall of America.”

“Why not?” Javi pouts. “None of us have ever been! I thought you’d love showing us where you’re from. You’re really going to deprive us of one of the most popular tourist attractions in Minnesota?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s literally no reason for us to go out of our way to go there–we’d spend more time trying to find parking than shopping. Also, we’re going to be farther south than where I’m from, so I wasn’t planning on showing you anything anyway.”

“We’ll only be a couple hours away…” Peter points out unhelpfully.

“We will be working,” Scott says. 

“Thank you,” you say, gesturing to him. 

Javi’s face twists. “I don’t like that you two are agreeing with each other now.”

“You liked it when you won the bet,” you shoot back with a smile, pointing at him with your fork as you all clean up your now empty dishes.

“...Touché.”

The bell above the door dings, cutting off your next argument, and you stiffen when you see Riggs saunter inside the diner. 

He doesn’t know about yours and Scott’s… situation, yet, and you’ve agreed not to tell him until you’ve figured it out more yourselves.

For the past month, you’ve been exclusively dating–but not officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Or partners, as Scott corrected–claiming he’s ‘too old’ to have a girlfriend.

It’s an arrangement you both agreed on while figuring out what this could be both alongside and outside of work–acknowledging that it needs to be a slow, careful process.

Based on your discussion last night after your fourth official date–mini golf, which you absolutely kicked his ass at–it sounds like you’re both ready for that next step. 

All Scott needs to do now is ask you officially–a requirement you gave him.

When Riggs saunters up to the table, he has a smile on his face that you know by now is just for show.

One nod of his head dismisses everyone except Scott and Javi. 

Outside of the diner, you stand with Kate, trying to soak up the sun before the long drive.

“You’re picking,” Kate says, her voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oops.” You shove your hands into your back pockets to stop yourself, watching the diner door intently.

“Relax,” she says, bumping your arm with her own. “Javi is the only one who has any actual say. And he’s already said that he has no issues unless it starts to cause problems with work–which it hasn’t.”

“What if he threatens to pull our funding when he finds out?” You ask, absentmindedly bringing one hand up to your mouth, biting your already-chewed nails.

“He won’t. Storm PAR is his baby–without us, he’s fucked. And we all know he’d never let Scott go jobless.”

Her words are meant to be reassuring, but you don’t feel much better about it.

“He might let me go jobless,” you mutter around the finger in your mouth. 

“Scott won’t let that happen. I have to give credit where credit’s due–that man likes you.”

You chuckle lightly, your shoulders loosening slightly. “Speaking of–he told me last night that he thinks he’s had feelings a lot longer than he realized.” You can’t stop the smile that starts to form on your face. “And that he’s ready to make it official–he just has to ask.”

She gasps loudly, smacking your arm. “What? When did he realize?”

“After the Stillwater tornado, apparently.” Your brain supplies brief, unhelpful images of the devastating event before you force it to refocus on the current conversation.

Kate shakes her head with a soft laugh. “I barely knew either of you by that point, but I knew he looked at you differently.”

You feel your face heat up and look down, focusing on the pavement under your shoes. “Well, we finally got confirmation.”

The next 20 minutes crawl by as you wait for the meeting to finish up. But when you see them walk through the door, Scott not looking nearly as tense as you’d been afraid he’d be, you feel yourself finally start to relax.

He catches your eye and subtly smiles before turning back to Riggs, finishing up his conversation. He leaves Javi talking with him and approaches you and Kate. 

“Hi,” he says evenly, nodding at Kate before looking at you. Kate greets him as well before patting your arm and walking off, leaving you two alone.

“How’d that go?” You ask quietly, fiddling with your fingers again.

“He doesn’t understand that tornado season is different in different states, so he still thinks Minnesota will be a bust. But he’s not a meteorologist, so.” He shrugs. 

You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Well, we’ll prove him wrong.”

He hums, holding eye contact with a small smile but not saying anything. 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows drawn together.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.” 

A gust of wind sends your hair into your face–still haven’t learned to use a hair tie apparently–and you splutter as you try to swipe it back. 

He brings a hand up and helps brush what you missed off your face before dropping his arm back to his side and your heart flutters. The movement is quick, subtle. Nothing that should draw attention. 

Suddenly Riggs is walking over, the same tight smile on his face. He doesn’t even glance at you. “Scott.” 

When Scott turns to look at him, he gestures with his head toward the other end of the parking lot, walking off before he can even respond.

Your stomach drops.

You and Scott share a look–your eyes wide, a frown on his face–before he follows him.

- - - -

“What was that?” Riggs demands the second they stop walking.

“What was what?” Scott asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“That,” he spits out, gesturing toward where you’re now standing with the others, back to them. Before Scott can say anything, he continues, his tone accusing. “Are you dating her?”

Despite the way his stomach starts to sink, Scott coolly shakes his head. “We were just having a conversation.”

The look he gets is sharp enough to kill. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Scott scoffs. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Then don’t lie to me,” he hisses. “I thought you were better than that. I mean–dating your employee? Come on.” Scott looks visibly taken aback, but Riggs barrels on. “We can’t afford a distraction like that, do you hear me?”

For a second, he almost backs down–used to doing whatever his uncle says. But he squares his shoulders and calmly says, “I’m not distracted. And nothing that’s happening on mine and Javi’s team is reflecting poorly on the data we give you. So I don’t think it’s your concern.”

Riggs’ eyes narrow further. “Do I need to remind you that I am the one funding yours and Javi’s team?”

Scott lets out a long exhale through his nose. “No, you don’t.”

“Good. Then I will say this one time and one time only. I expect better from you. If you don’t put a stop to whatever that is, she won’t be on the team anymore.”

His eyes widen and his jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious,” Riggs says with a humorless laugh. “I don’t pay for you to sleep with your employees–”

“Woah!”

“–I pay so you can get me data.” He continues, ignoring Scott’s protest. “Normally I trust you two to handle the staffing, but I will step in and fire her so you focus on what matters. Understood?”

Scott’s jaw tightens, and he stares at him for a long moment before finally letting out a breath. “Yeah, I got it.”

“You better,” Riggs says sharply. Then he pats him on the shoulder and sends him back toward the team, as if he didn’t just threaten to blow up one of the best things in his personal life. 

- - - -

When Scott joins you with the others, you immediately notice the tension across his entire body. The way his shoulders are stiff, his feet practically dragging as he walks.

It’s unnerving.

Before you can ask, he claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention. “All right, we have to hit the road. It’s almost nine, we’re behind schedule. Let’s go!”

Everyone quickly splits off to their vehicles, and he walks away toward Scarecrow without waiting for you.

You try to ignore the way that stings.

You slide into the passenger seat as he starts the car, still stiff as he does. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask carefully, buckling your seatbelt.

He hums.

Only hums.

“Was he… Did he yell at you?” 

“It was nothing,” he says dismissively, but his grip on the steering wheel tightens as he pulls out behind Javi’s truck. 

“Okay,” you say, barely a whisper. 

The silence that follows is crushing.

You feel like you’ve done something wrong without knowing what–the same way you did when you first started on the team. 

It’s a feeling he promised he wouldn’t make you feel again.

You don’t want to blame him. Don’t want to jump to the worst case scenario.

So you try to distract yourself by scrolling on your phone–which works for a few hours. 

You tell yourself it’s because of something Riggs said about the company.

But deep down, you know it’s about you.

It makes you feel sick.

“You’d tell me if you didn’t want to keep dating me, right?” Your shaky voice interrupts the silence halfway through hour three.

He glances at you for a beat before turning back to the road, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” He sounds almost offended at the question. “Yeah. Why?”

“Things just feel off right now and I feel like I did something wrong,” you say with a nervous laugh. 

He sighs, taking his hat off so he can run a hand through his hair before putting it back on, keeping one hand steady on the wheel. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You’d tell me if I did, right?”

He nods. “We agreed to hold each other accountable.”

“Okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “So what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I…” He trails off, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Just some bullshit in the meeting with Riggs.” It does little to quell your anxiety, which he notices. He reaches over to take one of your hands in his, running his thumb along your knuckles. “You didn’t do anything. Promise.”

- - - -

You believe him for eight more hours. 

He relaxed some, engaged in conversation, sang along to the music with you.

He almost seemed normal.

Until…

“Did you already book the hotel rooms?” You ask offhandedly from the driver’s seat–you’d switched halfway through.

You can see him stiffen out of the corner of your eye. Then he clears his throat. 

Oh.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, not looking up from his phone.

“Are we still sharing a room?” You ask carefully, but you already know the answer.

“Oh, uh.” He pauses and you can hear the gears in his brain working to come up with an excuse.

You sigh deeply before he can come up with one, ignoring the burning behind your eyes. “Got it.”

“No, no,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“It’s fine.” Your throat is tight, but you refuse to cry. You tighten your grip on the wheel.

It makes sense for him to want space. You work together for upwards of 12 hours a day sometimes, plus the recent development of spending most nights together.

It makes sense.

You just wish he’d said something.

He doesn’t try to defend himself any more. Instead, he just seems defeated, sinking lower in his seat.

That hurts worse.

By the time you pull into the hotel parking lot, you’re exhausted. Exhausted, upset, and wanting nothing more than to just lay face down in bed for the next 24 hours.

You’ll have to settle for the 10 hours before the scheduled morning briefing.

When you tell Kate that you’ll be sharing a room again after all, she seems suspicious, but you plaster a smile on your face and tell her you just wanted to spend time with her.

She believes you.

- - - -

You barely sleep.

Which, thankfully, Kate doesn’t seem to notice. And, if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. 

Scott, however, does. 

Of course.

When you and Kate meet everyone in the parking lot, his eyes snap to you immediately, brows furrowing. 

“You look awful,” he says quietly as you slow to a stop next to him. 

“You’re not supposed to tell the person you’re dating that they look awful,” you grumble. 

He rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “Oh, shut up. You know I didn’t mean it like that. How much did you sleep?”

Huh, maybe yesterday was a fluke.

You shrug, avoiding eye contact, thankful that Javi starts talking about the day’s plans.

Regardless of whether it was a fluke or not, you don’t plan on telling him why you didn’t sleep.

Scott leans down, closer to you, so he can quietly say, “That’s not an answer.”

You gently shove his arm and point at Javi, signalling for him to pay attention.

It works.

Until the moment you’re both in the car.

“Less than four hours?”

“I don’t know,” you say with a tired sigh, stifling a yawn as you pull up the radar on your tablet.

He huffs, pulling out of the parking lot and glancing at you briefly. “Why didn’t you sleep?”

What are you supposed to say? I didn’t sleep because you didn’t want to share a hotel room? That would make you sound as stupid and annoyingly clingy as you feel.

So instead you shrug. “You know I don’t sleep well in new places.”

He frowns. “I thought that was getting better.” 

“Yeah. Guess it still happens sometimes.”

The frown doesn’t leave his face, but he doesn’t push any further.

A part of you deep down wishes he would. 

Wishes he’d give you an excuse to get angry, to yell at him, demand answers for his sudden change in behavior.

…Maybe you should’ve kept seeing the therapist.

But there’s no time to unpack that right now.

Right now, you need to focus on this system you’re tracking. 

- - - -

The only tornado that touches down doesn’t stay on the ground long enough to place the radars.

It was expected–the outlooks for today weren’t great–but now you’re exhausted, upset about Scott, and pissed about the failed chase. 

It’s a bad combination.

A combination that makes it impossible to hold your tongue after another car ride filled with suffocating silence.

“You know,” you start as he shuts off the engine once he’s parked in the hotel parking lot, keeping your gaze straight ahead through the windshield. “I’d prefer if you just told me if something was wrong.”

He sighs deeply and you can see him scrub a hand down his face out of the corner of your eye. “Nothing is wrong.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “I’m not stupid, Scott.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Then don’t lie to me!” You snap, finally turning your body to face him. “All of a sudden you won’t talk to me, don’t want to share a room. I mean–” You cut yourself off with a humorless laugh. “This feels just like it did when I first started on the team. Like– like you’re pissed but refuse to tell me what I did wrong.”

He says your name, his tone just as pained as the look on his face. “I’m not lying. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You study his face for a few moments. You don’t see any hint that he isn’t telling the truth, but you can’t just ignore the sudden 180 in his behavior. 

You shake your head, lips pursed as you fight the stupid fucking tears that threaten to spill once again. “I don’t believe you.”

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him a chance to respond–getting out of the car, shutting the door behind you with more force than necessary, the sound echoing across the parking lot. 

On your way inside, you text Javi, asking him to meet you at your room in a couple minutes.

Kate’s head snaps up as she hears the hotel room door open, her expression immediately softening when she sees the tears shimmering in your eyes.

She scrambles out of bed and wraps her arms around you, pulling you in tightly. “Hey. What happened?” She asks softly.

You shake your head against her shoulder and sniffle, trying to will the tears back.

 A knock at the door makes you pull back, opening it to reveal Javi. His face falls when he sees how upset you look, stepping inside.

“What’s wrong, Sunny?” 

“Can I ride with someone else tomorrow?”

The look that Kate and Javi share is loaded.

“What did that asshole do?” Kate asks, immediately jumping to your defense.

You shake your head. “Nothing. It’s just… a little tense right now. And I know I won’t be able to focus the way I need to if I ride with him.” You look at Javi, eyes pleading. “We said we wouldn’t let our– our relationship affect work, so I’m trying to honor that.”

Javi studies your face for a few moments before nodding slowly, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I can figure out a way to make that work.”

“We can switch,” Kate offers. 

You turn to her, wide-eyed. “You wanna ride with him?”

She huffs out a laugh. “God, no. But, I will for you.”

That’s what finally makes the tears spill over. 

You bury your face in your hands, embarrassed at the sudden burst of emotions.

“Sorry,” you say, muffled into your hands. You take a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s been a long day.”

You feel two sets of arms wrap around you and that makes it even worse.

You gently shove them both off, furiously wiping at your eyes. “Okay, okay. No more.”

Javi chuckles softly at your stubbornness. “Okay, no more.” He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. “You’ll ride with me, Kate will ride with Scott. Do you want me to tell him or are you going to?”

“Can you tomorrow?” You ask with another sniffle. “I don’t really feel like having that conversation tonight.”

Javi nods, putting his phone back in his pocket. “For sure.” He hesitates. “You sure this isn’t gonna turn into, like, a whole thing? I love you both, but I really don’t want to worry about this affecting the entire team.”

You shake your head quickly. “No. No, I think it’ll be fine. It’s just… off, right now. Just need some time.” 

“All right,” he says with a sigh. “Get some sleep, kid.”

He pats you on the shoulder on his way out.

Once he’s gone, Kate gives you a look.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” you tell her, digging through your bag for pajamas. 

She sighs deeply. “It’s not good to keep it in.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure her, though the words come out tired.

“I know you will,” she says, gathering her own pajamas. “But I don’t want you to explode from bottling it all up.”

“Kate, really, I don’t want to talk about it,” you say as you straighten up, a little sharper than intended. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry.”

She shakes her head, holding her hands up. “You’re fine. I get it. Just… I’m here if you need to talk to someone.” Her voice is softer now and she angles her head to hold eye contact. “Okay?”

After muttering an ‘okay’ back, you head into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. As soon as it’s closed, you lean back against it, squeezing your eyes shut and letting out a long sigh.

Now that you’ve had the emotional release, you feel dramatic.

But when you think about how Scott hasn’t even kissed you since yesterday morning in his motel room?

Well… you feel a little less dramatic.

- - - -

Once again, you barely sleep–tossing and turning, unable to shut your brain off.

Not a surprise, really, considering you can’t stop picturing Scott’s reaction when he finds out you’re riding with Javi. 

You spend a good few hours going back and forth on whether you should just tell Javi and Kate to forget it. Just stay in Scarecrow. Make things easier. 

But the thought of spending what could be another 10 plus hours of crushing silence with Scott makes you want to cry again. So you don’t.

By the time your alarm goes off, you’ve only been asleep for three hours. 

When you grab your phone to stop the grating noise, there’s a text notification.

Scott (6:37 am): Why did Javi just tell me you’re riding with him today?

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you say, dropping your phone onto the bed, scrubbing your face with both hands.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asks, whipping around to face you from where she’s brushing her hair in the bathroom.

“Scott texted me. Said, ‘Why did Javi just tell me you’re riding with him today?’”

“Oh.” 

She sets the brush down softly, padding over to sit next to you on the bed.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You ask her, panicked. 

“I think you gotta be honest,” she says, rubbing your arm gently.

You scoff. “Oh, yeah. Let me just start an argument before a level four risk day.”

She frowns. “I thought you guys haven’t had an actual fight since you started dating.”

“We haven’t.”

“Was he mad at you last night?” 

You shake your head, chewing on your lower lip. “No.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “Then,” she starts carefully, “why do you think it would cause an argument?”

You sigh and bury your face into the pillow, muffling your voice. “I don’t know. It feels like he’s mad at me.”

“Did something happen?”

“No!” You sit up suddenly, gesturing wildly. “That’s why I’m confused!”

Her eyes widen at the outburst. “Did you ask him?”

“Of course I asked him.” You push out of bed, busying yourself with gathering the things you need to get ready. “He says I did nothing wrong–that it was just some bullshit in the meeting with Riggs. But he hasn’t kissed me since the morning before we left, he didn’t want to share a room like we planned, and he’s barely fucking talked to me since.”

She watches from the bed as you bustle around the room, tossing your pajamas on the floor as you wriggle into your work clothes. After a long moment, she slowly says, “Maybe he’s telling the truth.”

Your first instinct is to laugh in disbelief. Because, honestly, you don’t believe that. 

But… you want to. 

You really fucking want to.

So you shrug as you swipe on deodorant in front of the bathroom mirror. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You should respond to him. So you don’t have to worry about it becoming a thing during the briefing.”

Your shoulders drop and you hang your head. “...Yeah.”

She grabs your phone and brings it over, setting it down. Then pops a hip and leans against the counter next to you with her arms crossed over her chest. “Just be honest.”

You pick up the phone with shaky hands and click on the text notification. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard as your brain spirals through possible responses. 

Slowly, you type out a message. Then, turn the screen toward Kate, who nods once in approval before you hit send, feeling like you might be sick.

You (7:18 am): i asked him to switch last night. i’m still upset and don’t want that to affect the chase

The typing bubble appears immediately. 

You drop the phone back onto the counter like it burns your hands.

“Oh shit.”

Kate leans in, watching the screen closely with you–both with bated breath as the bubble disappears and reappears multiple times. 

It feels like hours before his next texts finally come through.

Scott (7:22 am): I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset, but I swear you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just shit with Riggs.

Scott (7:22 am): I get if you still want space, though.

Scott (7:23 am): I got you your drink. I can give it to you before we head out. 

The last message makes your throat tight. 

“Dammit,” you sigh, dropping your head onto the counter, folding awkwardly. 

Kate rubs a gentle hand up and down your back.

“Why is he being so nice?” You whine. “He’s supposed to be an asshole.”

She chuckles lightly. “He’s being nice because he likes you.”

You straighten up with a huff. “Then maybe he should act like it.”

She frowns. “Sunny. I really think he might be telling the truth about it just being something with Riggs.”

“Then why hasn’t he kissed me?” You ask, voice higher now. 

Her frown deepens and her eyes soften. “...I don’t know.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you brush your hair. “Yeah,” you mutter. “Neither do I.”

- - - -

When you see him in the parking lot, you hesitantly approach him, stopping at his side. Your arms are crossed over your chest, fingers working tirelessly to pick at your skin. 

“Hi,” he says quietly, turning to face you.

You hum in response and his jaw tightens. When he hands you the can, you mumble, “Thanks.”

Your fingers brush briefly and you pull back as if you touched something hot. 

The way his face falls makes your stomach twist.

“Okay, team!” Javi interrupts the moment loudly, clapping his hands. He moves to stand in front of the half circle you’ve all formed. “We have a very good chance of interception today, so I need everyone on top of their game. Any questions before we hit the road?” At the silence that follows, he claps his hands once again. “All right, we leave in ten!”

His energy makes you grimace.

You’re about to walk away when Scott’s hand brushes your arm. “Can we…” He trails off, nodding his head toward the other end of the parking lot.

Damn him and his stupid, handsome face.

You find yourself nodding before you get the chance to overthink it.

He leads you to an empty section of the parking lot–far enough away so the others can’t hear you, but you can still see them. 

You stare down at your feet, but his finger under your chin guides your gaze to meet his. 

His eyes search your face.

“You didn’t sleep again.”

He’s not asking. He already knows.

Though it’d be kind of hard not to, you think, with the deep purple bags under your eyes.

You shrug, looking over his shoulder. 

If you keep looking at his face, you’re going to cry again.

And that would be really fucking embarrassing.

“Sunny,” he says, so softly.

And despite your best efforts, the tears you so desperately wanted to keep away burn at the backs of your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, again, so very gently.

You shake your head, sniffling as you step back so his hand falls. “Stop.”

He frowns, arms hovering awkwardly at his sides. “Stop what?”

You gesture between you both. “This! This– this whole back and forth! You go from telling me you’re ready to ask me to be your girlfriend–or partner, or whatever–to barely even talking to me!”

“I–” He cuts himself off, so you push forward. 

“Just tell me if you don’t want to do this anymore. It would fucking suck,” you say with a humorless laugh, “but at least I wouldn’t feel like I’m being led on.”

He furrows his eyebrows, face just barely hardening, but you notice. “I’m not leading you on.”

“It feels like it!” You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut before forcing yourself to look at him again. “We can’t have this conversation right now– I can’t have this conversation right now. So, just…” You gesture vaguely toward the parking lot, letting your arm fall to your side. “I’ll see you after the chase.”

You walk off before he can say anything else.

- - - -

You love Javi.

You really do.

But right now, you might jump out of the moving truck.

“Did he do something?”

“No.” 

Yes. But no. But yes.

“Did you?”

“According to him, no.”

But probably.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Barely.”

He turns to look at the side of your face, eyebrows scrunched together. “Sunny, I’m confused.”

You groan, dropping your head back against the seat. “Me too. Can we stop talking about this?”

He winces. “Sorry.” 

After 45 minutes of silence–save for the quiet music coming through the radio–rain starts pattering against the windshield. “How close are we?” He asks, glancing down at the tablet in your lap.

You chew on your lip in concentration as you drag the radar across the screen. “Uh, pretty close. We should take this next left coming up.”

As he turns, a loud clap of thunder makes you jump, rattling the truck.

The sky in front of you is dark. Far darker than it should be for not even 10 am. 

The familiar combination of anticipation and anxiety swirls in your stomach, making you sit up straighter in your seat.

This is what you need.

Javi notices, smirking at you briefly before turning his attention forward again. “There you are.”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Shut up and focus on the road.”

Not even 30 seconds later, small hail starts ricocheting off the hood–along with the rain that picks up, your visibility is almost zero.

As the radar in your lap updates, Javi taps his earpiece to direct the rest of the team to take their positions, easing off the gas.

The image on your tablet makes your stomach sink. 

The hook echo is huge now, and the system has picked up speed. 

You’re pretty sure there’s a rain-wrapped tornado heading directly for you.

“Fuck! Javi– we need to reposition. Right now–take a right–right now.”

He doesn’t question you–just does as you say. Water splashes up to your window as he hits a puddle before flooring it down the straight road.

“What’s going on? What do you see?” He asks over the deafening wind and hail.

“The hook tightened–like, a lot. And it sped up, we’re way too fucking close,” you tell him, voice tight. You tap your earpiece. “This is Lion–we need to reposition. Radar looks bad, we need to get out of here.”

You turn in your seat to see power flashes through the rain and debris rotating through the air.

Yup.

“Okay,” you breathe out, facing forward again. You push your hair out of your face and focus back on the radar. “Okay, that’s a tornado. Um–”

A crash! interrupts you, and you gasp as a large piece of debris lands directly in front of you. 

Javi swerves just before hitting it, yelling something you can’t make out. 

You feel the moment the tires lose traction and watch as Javi realizes, in the same moment, that the steering wheel no longer responds to him. 

“Don’t brake!” You shout.

“I’m not!” He yells back, trying to right the wheel.

The truck slides sideways off the flooded pavement, and you both realize you have no control over what happens next.

Your head bounces against the seat as the front tires slide off the road, into the ditch, and your hands fly out to steady yourself on the dash. 

Another jolt as the back tires hit the dirt as well.

You keep one arm on the dash, the other flying out to grab onto Javi’s arm with a vice grip. 

The front end of the truck slams into the slope of the ditch–stopping any further movement. Your seatbelt digs into your shoulder as you go flying forward and your grip on Javi tightens even more.

Ow.

As soon as you both realize you’re stopped, Javi whips around to look behind while you go back to the radar. You need to see where this thing is.

“I can’t see it!”

“No shit!” You say, frantically tapping the screen for an update. 

Javi taps his earpiece, breathing heavily. “Uh– this is Lion. We– we hydroplaned, crashed into a ditch.”

“You what?” Scott demands into your ears.

You hold up the tablet with shaking hands, angling it toward Javi. “It’s going north. We– we should be out of the path,” you say breathlessly. 

He rips it out of your hands, dragging a finger along the screen as he confirms. 

He sinks down in his seat, letting out a breath. “Holy shit.”

You both breathe deeply for a minute, letting the relief sink in silently.

“I think your truck is fucked,” you say, a giggle bubbling up before you can stop it.

He stares at you for a beat. 

Then he snorts.

And suddenly you’re both laughing hysterically, tears streaming down your faces.

Your name through the earpieces makes you both laugh even harder. 

“Javi, someone, are you guys okay?” Scott asks again, voice sharp enough to feel.

You tap your earpiece, chuckling a little. “We’re fine.”

“Stay where you are. We’re coming,” Kate says, a panicked edge to her voice.

You and Javi share a look before bursting into laughter again. 

You fold over the center console, slapping his arm as you struggle to catch your breath. “They’re coming.”

He howls, squeezing your hand tightly. “You’re such a child,” he says between gasps, making you snort this time.

You look out the windshield and see the hail has stopped–leaving only the pounding rain–and that sobers you up some.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, pushing off of the center console as you straighten in your seat. “We should see how bad it is,” you breathe out, wiping the tears from your face.

He takes a few deep breaths to calm down, then nods and undoes his own seatbelt. 

You both step outside after he shuts off the engine, getting drenched as you round the vehicle. 

You kiss your teeth at the sight of the front end and he lets out a low whistle.

Where the bumper hasn’t fallen off, it’s crumpled inward. 

There’s a puddle of colored liquids mixing with the rain, and white smoke billowing out from under the hood.

“Well, shit,” Javi deadpans. 

Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Wizard pull up then, skidding to a stop on the side of the road right behind the truck.

Scott is out first, running toward you.

His presence makes you dizzy.

Or maybe it’s the crash?

All you know is suddenly you need to lean against the truck, bracing a hand on the hood to steady yourself. 

He shouts your name and grabs tightly onto your upper arms, spinning you around to face him. The action makes you stumble and you have to bring your hands up to grasp his arms to steady yourself.

His eyes frantically search your body for injuries. “Are you– are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You watch him watch you, wide-eyed, eyebrows scrunched together. You shake your head, then his hands move to your shoulders–

“Holy fuck, ow!” You hiss.

He immediately withdraws his hands, holding them up. “What? What hurt?”

“Shoulder.” You gently prod the area with your other hand, wincing when you find the pain. “I think it’s from the seatbelt,” you say, voice rough.

“Can I look?” He asks, hesitantly bringing his hands to the collar of your shirt. 

When you hum in approval, he gently pulls the soaked fabric down, exposing your collarbone and shoulder. 

You keep your eyes on his face until his expression twists. Then, you angle your head to look at the exposed skin–which is already turning a deep purple.

“Oh,” you breathe out. 

When you bring your gaze back to Scott’s face, his jaw is clenched. The rain on his eyelashes make the blue of his eyes stand out even more and you can’t help but admire how pretty they are.

He drags his own focus from your shoulder to your face, eyes softening as soon as they meet yours.

“You weren’t supposed to be there,” he says, voice breaking just barely on the last word.

You don’t know what to say to that.

Because he’s right.

You were only there because…

Because he wanted distance.

The reminder makes you take a staggering step backward, trying to get out of his hold. But he’s quicker.

He grabs your face in both hands, shaking his head frantically. 

You freeze.

“Don’t,” he says sharply.

Your eyes narrow. “You wanted space.”

“No, I didn’t!” He blurts, drawing you closer again. “I–”

He cuts himself off, so you press. “You what?”

“I wanted to– to make us official. To ask you to be my girlfriend, or partner, or whatever. To–” He cuts himself off again, hanging his head for a moment “Then Riggs told me if we kept seeing each other, he’d fire you.”

You blink at him. 

“So… after a year of thinking you hated me, we finally figured our shit out, and now it doesn’t even fucking matter?” You ask, a humorless laugh slipping out. “I knew this would happen!”

He’s shaking his head before you even finish your sentence. “No– no. It does matter. Because I don’t care what Riggs says.”

You scoff. “Scott, he said he’d fire me! I told you I wouldn’t let this interfere with my job–and you agreed!” 

“Hey,” he says, sharper now, hands tightening on your face. “Listen to me.” He waits until your eyes are on his and your breathing is steady before continuing. “You could’ve died because I was being a fucking idiot. So, I’m done being an idiot.” He swallows hard. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a while. And nothing Riggs–or anyone else–has to say about it will change that.”

 Surely you’re concussed.

Or dead.

Because there’s no way Scott just said he loves you. 

You open your mouth to respond, but a sudden wave of dizziness interrupts you.

Oh, you might actually be concussed. 

As you scrunch up your face, squeezing your eyes shut, Scott immediately starts guiding you backward to the truck. “Okay,” his tone is more authoritative as he opens the passenger door. “Nope. Sit down. You are going to sit down right now.”

You shake your head, but the movement makes you even more dizzy. Scott gently pushes you back until you hit the seat and helps you situate yourself once you stop resisting his help. 

You lean back, keeping your eyes closed, sinking down in the seat. “I’m okay,” you say breathlessly despite the way your ears are ringing now. 

“No. You’re not,” Scott says, keeping a steady hand on your thigh. He turns to the others. “Hey! We should call ambulances for them.”

Kate confirms that they already have as you snap your eyes open, ignoring the way your vision swims. “What? No– no, that’s overkill.”

Scott puts his free hand on his hip, glaring down at you. “You just crashed. It is not overkill.”

You look him up and down, noting his posture, and huff. “Bossy,” you mutter under your breath.

“I am not bossy!” He protests.

You hold up a hand, leaning to look past him, ignoring the offended noise he makes. “Javi!” When Javi’s head whips to look at you, you ask, “You okay?”

He gives you a thumbs up with his right hand, but winces, grabbing his shoulder. He walks over instead. “My shoulder hurts, but that’s it.”

“Wait ‘til the adrenaline wears off,” Scott says, and you both shush him. 

You pull down the collar of your shirt, showing off your seatbelt bruise. Javi gasps, doing the same, revealing a matching purple mark. “Twins!”

“Hey!” You gasp in realization. “Therapy worked! Look at me, I’m not traumatized anymore!”

“No, you’re in shock,” Scott says before turning to Javi. “Did she hit her head?”

“You could ask me, you know. I was also there,” you sass.

He rolls his eyes, looking at you, unimpressed. “I don’t trust you to tell me the truth–and that’s if you even remember it.”

“Of course I remember it.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Okay. Did you hit your head?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Nope,” you say proudly.

“Uh, yes you did. On the seat. More than once, I’m pretty sure,” Javi corrects.

“That doesn’t count!”

“It absolutely does!” Scott argues, grabbing your face in his hands again, turning your head towards him. “What day of the week is it?”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “This is ridiculous.”

“Answer the fucking question,” he demands, adding your name after another sigh from you.

You answer with a huff.

“Good. Who’s the president?”

You blink at him. “Please don’t make me answer that. And we both know that’s not a standard question.”

He cracks a small smile. “I know. I couldn’t think of any other ones.”

Javi bursts into laughter, clapping a hand on your knee. “Yeah, she’s okay.” 

“Told you,” you tell Scott, tilting your head with a wide smile.

“Yeah, I’m not listening to Dumbass Number One and Two over here.” He ignores your indignant scoffs. “You were both in the crash, you’re both in shock and high on adrenaline, and you’ll both be in a lot more pain once it wears off.”

Before either of you can respond with a snarky retort, the sound of sirens catches everyone’s attention. You look to see two ambulances approaching from the road over and suddenly the reality of the situation–plus the physical effects of it–come crashing down.

The rest of the team starts to gather around the truck, leaving space for when the paramedics arrive, and that makes it worse. 

“Oh, I don’t feel good,” you say quietly, bringing a hand to your chest.

Scott’s attention snaps back to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Ow,” you breathe out. At the panicked looks you get, you shake your head, sending a shooting pain from the base of your skull to your forehead. “Not my chest. Just, like, everything else.”

There’s a couple of relieved exhales at that. 

Not from Scott, though. He just shakes his head.

“Yeah, I knew that was coming,” he says, spinning you in the seat to bring his arms up to wrap around your head, pulling you to rest your forehead against his middle. He adjusts his upper arms to block light from your peripheral.

“I don’t need an ‘I told you so,’” you try to snap, mumbled into his shirt, but it comes out weak.  

“Not an ‘I told you so,’” he says gently. “I just knew the adrenaline crash was coming.” He turns to look at Javi next to him. “It’ll hit you soon, too.”

Kate and Peter move quickly to stabilize Javi before it hits him too, just as the ambulances pull up in front of the wrecked truck. 

The volume of the sirens makes you cover your ears–head throbbing with each pulse of the sound–and Scott places his hands on top of yours.

It mutes the sound enough to make your shoulders loosen just a fraction. 

You hear muffled voices around you for a blissful minute, then Scott’s removing his arms.

You whine at the sudden light, but are eternally grateful that they’ve turned the sirens off. 

“Hey,” one of the paramedics says, introducing themselves as they step in front of you when Scott steps aside. “Heard you crashed. How are you feeling?”

“Um… my head hurts,” you say, subconsciously bringing a hand up to the back of your head. “Light hurts. Sound too. And I’m dizzy.”

“Any nausea?”

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut when the world starts to spin again.

“Do you remember what happened?”

You gesture at the truck you’re currently sitting in. “We swerved to avoid debris–crashed into the ditch.”

“Do you remember actually hitting your head?” They ask, lifting your eyelids to check your pupils with a penlight. 

You flinch at the light, blinking rapidly after they’re done. “Um– yeah, just against the back of the seat.”

They hum, narrowing their eyes, but not unkindly. “Yeah, that can still be hard enough to cause a concussion if you’re going fast enough. What’s today’s date?”

You sigh, but answer the question.

“Good. Your full name?”

You answer that, too.

“Perfect. And can you name the months of the year in reverse order?”

You blink, taking a moment to process, but do that as well.

Scott does not like that.

“Why did you hesitate? Why did she hesitate?” He asks, bordering on frantic.

You shoot him an unimpressed look, but the paramedic answers before you can.

“A little delay is normal after a head injury. Being able to do it successfully is an excellent sign. Promise,” they assure him before turning their focus back to you. “Also heard you have a shoulder injury. Does anything else hurt?”

“Everything.”

They give you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, that’s normal, too.”

They finish their assessment–taking your vitals, making sure your shoulder and chest are okay, doing another neuro check after a few minutes.

The final determination is that you and Javi should both go to the hospital to get checked out. 

Neither of you are a fan of that.

“Oh, come on, I’m fine!”

“It was barely a crash!”

Your protests overlap, along with the rest of the team–primarily Scott and Kate–arguing. 

“You are not fine.”

“It was still a crash!”

Scott puts both hands on his hips, standing in the middle, looking between the two of you. “I’m not asking. You’re both going to the hospital whether you like it or not.”

The paramedics stand to the side awkwardly, watching the argument unfold.

You realize you won’t win this one. 

And–not that you would ever admit it–your head hurts bad enough to make you a little concerned.

“Fine,” you huff, gesturing toward the ambulances. “Let’s go.” 

Javi gives in pretty quickly once you do.

Scott insists on riding in the ambulance with you, and, secretly, you’re relieved. His presence alone makes you feel calmer despite the tension lately.

The ride is quiet for the most part. Except for the regular neuro and vitals checks, you revel in the silence. 

That, and the relentless hold Scott has on your hand–allowing you to squeeze tighter with every bump that sends a sharp pang through your skull.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital as you’re wheeled in on the stretcher make you wince–throwing your uninjured arm over your eyes. But you get a bed pretty quickly–the benefits of a head injury!

Cue more neuro exams, a CT scan, an x-ray, more tests you can’t keep up with.

Your shoulder is going to hurt like a bitch for a while, but it’s not broken, so… you guess that’s a win. 

The sling you have to wear is not a win, though.

And sure enough, you’re mildly concussed–along with whiplash.

Yay. 

No surprise there. 

The surprise is that you’re apparently concussed enough that they want to keep you overnight ‘just for observation.’

The glare Scott sends you when you try to fight that is sharp enough to make you snap your mouth shut.

You’re pissed when Javi gets discharged after just two hours–the lucky bastard only got a sprained shoulder.

Hours later, once you get settled into an actual room that’s packed full with the entire team, the nurse lets you know that you can only have one visitor overnight.

The second she leaves, the arguing starts.

“I’ll stay,” Kate and Scott say at the same time. 

They look at each other, offended the other would even offer.

“Uh, I’m her… partner?” Scott says, brows furrowing at the last word since he technically hasn’t asked you yet. You shake your head, but it goes unnoticed.

“I’m her best friend,” Kate argues, arms crossed over her chest. “And she’s mad at you right now.”

“I don’t think she’s mad at me anymore.”

Your eyes move back and forth enough to make you dizzy again, watching the argument like a tennis match along with the rest of the team, who’s uncharacteristically quiet. Your lips twitch, amused at how seriously they’re taking it.

“She was mad enough to not want to ride with you today.”

His face scrunches at that, like the reminder is painful, before he schools it back to neutral. “Well, we made up.” He turns to you. “Right?” His eyebrows are raised, like he’s waiting for you to back him up. 

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, I’m not getting involved. This is the most entertainment I’ve had in days.” You settle deeper into the hospital bed, pulling the blanket higher with your good arm.

They momentarily join forces to narrow their eyes at you, seeming entirely unimpressed.

“I think you’re gonna have to get involved and tell us who you want to stay with you,” Kate says, obviously expecting you to pick her.

You almost do out of habit alone.

But… 

You never actually responded to Scott’s confession–the thought alone making you lightheaded again.

And yeah, maybe while you’re concussed and in the hospital isn’t the best time to reciprocate a love confession. 

But you’ve never been known to be patient.

“Uh…” You look up at Kate sheepishly. “Will you kill me if I pick Scott?”

Her jaw drops, but you can see the flash of relief across her face that you’re not mad at him anymore. Javi lets out a dramatic gasp behind her that has you shooting him a glare, earning a few chuckles from the others.

Kate shakes her head, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips now. “You wound me.”

You drop your head, sighing loudly. “I know, I’m just the worst.”

She playfully nudges your uninjured shoulder before bending to wrap you in a careful hug. “I’m glad you guys worked it out,” she murmurs in your ear, quiet enough for only you to hear through the rest of the team’s conversation.

Over her shoulder, you catch Scott watching you both with an expression you can’t quite read.

You turn your head to bring your mouth closer to her ear. “I need you to not freak out because nobody else knows. Got it?” She pauses, and you wait for her to nod before muttering, “He told me he loves me.”

You watch as her eyes widen and her whole body tenses like she’s about to jump up before she forces her posture to relax again. “No fucking way,” she hisses, tone laced with excitement.

You just nod, barely suppressing a smile. “Okay, this looks suspicious. I’ll text you about it later.”

“No, you will not, because you’re not supposed to be on your phone,” she lectures. “Just tell me tomorrow.” 

She straightens up, keeping her face carefully neutral. The others take their turns giving you hugs or pats on the arm before filing out, leaving you and Scott alone.

“Did you just tell her?” He asks smugly once the door is shut, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed.

“No,” you drag out sheepishly. 

He just looks at you and you sigh, but there’s no real irritation behind it. “Yes,” you correct with a pout.

He chuckles, leaning back in the chair that’s far too small for his tall frame.

You frown. “That can’t be comfy.”

He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll be fine… How are you feeling?”

“I love you, too,” you blurt, not even registering his question. You groan and drag your hands down your face. “Jesus, I need to start thinking before I speak.”

The sound of his laugh makes you slowly peek open your eyes and the beeping monitor is the only indication that your heart hasn’t stopped. The smile on his face is wider than you’ve ever seen.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you for a moment.

Then, he pushes off the chair, grabs your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss technically isn’t anything you haven’t done before–it’s pretty mild in comparison, actually. There’s no wandering hands, no rushing.

But it feels new. 

Like he’s trying to reassure you in every possible way that he regrets pulling away. That he means what he said.

That he won’t let his uncle’s power trip be the thing that puts an end to your relationship before it’s even really begun–now that you’ve both pulled your heads out of your asses.

And you kiss him back with a fervor that tries to express that you understand and you appreciate–love–him for it.

For the first time in days, you feel light. 

Not physically. 

Physically, you feel like you got hit by a truck. Which… yeah, kinda.

But mentally?

Okay, maybe a little cloudy mentally.

Emotionally, however.

Emotionally, you feel fucking fantastic.

The combination of emotional weightlessness, concussion symptoms, and the adrenaline dump has your eyelids struggling to stay open within moments of breaking apart from the kiss.

The second Scott softly tells you to go to sleep, you can’t bring yourself to argue.

For the first night in days, you sleep like a damn baby.

- - - -

A loud bang! followed immediately by a loss of weight near your side jolts you awake. 

“What did I tell you?” A voice hisses.

Your eyes snap open and you blink blearily, trying to clear the sleep from them. When the room comes into focus and your eyes adjust to the sunlight streaming through the window, you make out Riggs standing next to the chair that Scott is still sitting in at your bedside.

His arms are crossed and he looks pissed.

Your heart drops.

Scott’s hair is mussed, eyes slightly swollen the way they are when he’s just woken up, but he still has a hold on one of your hands. He looks at you briefly, an apologetic look in his eyes, before turning back to his uncle, expression hardening.

“I’m not talking about this right now,” he says calmly. 

Too calmly.

Riggs scoffs, his usual faux-calm demeanor gone. “You will do what I say considering I just had to hop on a plane thanks to your girlfriend.”

Even in your half-awake, concussed state, you suddenly get a burst of argumentative energy. “Excuse me?”

Riggs’ eyes snap to you. But before he can respond, Scott pushes himself up and ushers him out of the room without another word–throwing you one last glance before shutting the door behind them.

You blink at the door, mind racing with choice words for Riggs–the heart rate monitor alerting you to just how pissed you are. 

- - - -

The second the door is closed, Scott whips around to face Riggs, arms crossed tightly over his chest, expression stony. “Seriously? She was asleep.”

“I thought I made myself very clear on what would happen if you continued to date your employee,” Riggs says, mirroring Scott’s posture.

“Why are you even here?” He asks, not bothering much to hide the irritation on his face.

“Because, as the person paying for both your company’s car and health insurance, I need to see for myself what claims I’m submitting,” Riggs says impatiently. “Why was she even riding with Javi? I thought she was supposed to be with you.”

Scott scoffs. “First you want distance between us, then you complain when there is. Why does it matter why she was with him?”

“Because it does,” Riggs says through gritted teeth.

“Professionally? Or personally?” Scott challenges.

The glare he gets for that burns holes into his face.

A nurse walks past and they both tense. Riggs waits until she disappears around the corner to hiss, “I wasn’t fucking around when I said I would fire her. Do you know how many people would kill to be on this team?”

Scott blinks at him.

Then, again, too calmly, he says, “We have other investors.”

Riggs’ arms drop and he goes very still. 

His jaw works for a moment before he rolls his shoulders. “None that give you as much as I do.”

Scott reaches into his pocket casually, digging out his wallet. He flips it open and pulls out a stack of business cards, slapping them into Riggs’ hand. 

“We have options.”

He stares down at the cards in his hand, blinking, before slowly shuffling through them. Scott watches in twisted amusement as he falters on some of them–clearly recognizing the names.

“You…” Riggs trails off, lost for words.

“My team was chosen very carefully,” Scott says lowly, posture tightening again. “You may not understand it, but we risk our lives every single time we go into the field. Every person on this team needs to not only have the skills, but full trust in the others. We have that. You will not mess with it.”

“And what happens when you break up?” Riggs challenges, gaining momentum once again. “You haven’t settled down yet–I’m supposed to just believe that you’ve changed your mind?”

“If we break up, then we handle it like adults–”

“She’s 23!”

Scott’s jaw tightens. “And?”

Riggs laughs humorlessly. “You can’t seriously believe that you–someone I’ve watched bring either a new girlfriend or no girlfriend to every holiday because he couldn’t commit–and her–someone who can’t even be bothered to enroll in a Master’s program–are going to… what? Get married?”

Scott rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts. “What does her not getting a Master’s have to do with our relationship?”

“You are smart, Scott. I expect better from you than settling for the first pretty face you spend more than ten minutes with.”

Now it’s Scott who stills.

“What did you just say?” He asks, voice lower, more dangerous.

He leans forward slightly, towering over him. His eyes narrow.

Riggs doesn’t seem the slightest bit phased.

“Oh, please,” he scoffs. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that you’re in love with her.”

“Why not?” Scott challenges, tilting his head slightly. 

Riggs rolls his eyes. “She’s immature. And uneducated. And I can’t see her being the person that suddenly changes your mind on settling down. I’ve known you your whole life, Scott. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Scott laughs–actually laughs–at that, before taking a deep breath. He stands tall, confident. “I’m done with this. Either you get over it, or we get other investors. Your choice,” he says with a shrug. 

Riggs’ jaw tightens as he glances between Scott and the door to your room. After a few long moments, he sighs deeply. “Fine.” The knot that’s been sitting heavy in Scott’s chest for days finally starts to loosen, but he keeps his face carefully neutral.

“You won’t fuck with her. At all. Got it?”

Riggs looks thoroughly displeased by the fact that Scott now holds all the power, but he nods sharply regardless. “Yes, Scott. I got it,” he mutters with a deep sigh. “But the second this starts messing with my–”

Scott cuts him off with a groan. “Oh, my god, it won’t mess with anything. You can come by the hotel later to get the information you need for insurance–you’re not talking to her right now.”

He seems to know better than to argue with Scott’s final tone, leaving with a grumbled ‘goodbye’ and one last glare.

- - - -

Ten minutes.

That’s how long you spend biting your nails until three of them start to bleed before Scott opens the door again.

He’s holding himself carefully–too carefully–as he shuts the door behind him.

Your eyes track his every movement as he turns back to face you and you can’t bring yourself to speak first–too afraid to hear how the conversation went.

“Did you hear any of that?” He asks as he sits back down in the chair next to your bed. When you shake your head, he sighs. “Good.”

You furrow your brows. “Good?”

He shakes his head. “He just said a lot of bullshit.”

Your face gives away how your stomach sinks and you drop your gaze to your lap. “Oh. So…”

Scott shakes his head again quickly when he realizes how he made that sound. “Oh, no, no. He’s gonna back off.”

Your eyes snap back up. “What? How the fuck did you manage that?” His expression suddenly turns sheepish and he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh… I may have threatened to get new investors.”

“Scott!” You wince at the shooting pain in your head when you practically shout his name. “...Wait. Can you actually do that?”

He chuckles. “Yes, I can actually do that. I didn’t plan on it… but he wouldn’t let it go.”

You blink at him. “You were going to drop your uncle and find new investors because he wouldn’t approve of us being in a relationship?”

He nods once, sharply. “Yes.”

You blink again. 

“That is so hot.”

He stares at you before a huff of laughter escapes his nose. “You are insane.”

Your mouth quirks up. “But you love me.”

He shakes his head, but there’s a fond smile on his face as well. “I do,” he mutters as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i just couldn't shut up because i love their dynamic lmao it took me a while to figure out what direction i wanted to take this in, but i'm pretty happy with the ending!

divider credits to @pixopix!!

part 1

If you’d been asked two weeks ago, you would’ve stood firm in your opinion that Scott Miller is a Grade A asshole.

Now you’d say he’s tolerable.

Which might be worse, actually. Because at least when he was an asshole it was easy to dismiss your very small, very insignificant, barely there crush on him.

It’s harder to do that when he’s actually trying to be decent, has said the words ‘I care about you,’ and admitted he was worried when you were in a life-threatening situation.

Which is why you’re still awake at 3 a.m., staring at the ceiling of the shitty motel room as Kate snores softly in the other bed–something she adamantly denies every time you poke fun at her for it.

It’s been two full weeks since the Stillwater tornado. Since Scott and Tyler had come to some weird unspoken agreement to soften the feud. Since Kate had found that the near-death experience was what she needed to be reminded just how much passion she has for storm chasing. Since she and Tyler started ‘secretly’ seeing each other.

Only fourteen days since you experienced something that shook you so badly Scott made Riggs include your new therapist in the company budget.

You argued against it–said you were fine and didn’t need more therapy. But the ultimatum given to you by Scott and Javi was to attend therapy or take a mandatory leave, and there was no way you were doing that. Plus, Kate was presented the same ultimatum and agreed to therapy with no qualms, and knowing you wouldn’t be alone in it helped.

You both took a few days off, but by halfway through day two you were itching to get back to work. Sitting in a stuffy motel room was doing nothing for the mental aspect of your recovery, and you were lucky enough to only get cuts and bruises that didn’t require much downtime.

But all going back to work did was cause a new problem.

Because Scott will not stop watching you.

It’s unnerving, truly. Like his eyes were designed purely for him to see you. It should make you giggly and shy–the guy you’ve thought about when you can’t sleep for the last year paying such close attention to you. But all it does is piss you off.

Because it’s not good attention. It’s not like he’s looking at you because he likes you or thinks you’re pretty.

He’s watching you because you almost died and now it’s like nobody trusts you to be alone.

So you’ve resorted to staying awake well past everyone else, reveling in the solitude that comes with the night.

- - - -

You wake up at 7 a.m. to the blaring alarm from your phone where it’s charging on the nightstand. You groan and cover your face with a pillow, then blindly slap at your phone, hoping to turn it off without looking. You can hear Kate chuckle from the other bed.

“Want some help with that?” You just grunt in response, but she takes your phone and shuts off the alarm for you. After a moment of silence, she asks softly, “You stay up late again?”

You sigh and take the pillow off your face, turning to face her. She’s already ready for the day. “Yeah.”

“What time?” Her voice and face are so soft, so gentle. It makes you want to scream.

You shrug, looking to the side now. “Three?”

She sighs and tilts her head. “You can’t keep functioning on such little sleep, Sunny.”

You clench your jaw and sit up, letting the blanket pool in your lap for a moment before pushing yourself out of bed. “I’m fine, Kate.”

“You say that every morning, but it’s obvious you’re not.”

You grab your clothes from your bag and take them into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you without responding. You look in the mirror, noticing the deep purple bags under your eyes that have been there forever, but seem darker lately.

You get changed into your blue polo and a pair of jeans, put on deodorant, brush your hair and teeth, and leave the bathroom looking slightly more human than when you went in.

She looks up when you come back out, eyes tracking your movements with furrowed brows as you slip on your socks and boots. “We’re not meeting until 8.” She glances down at her phone. “It’s only 7:15.”

“I’m going for a walk,” you reply flatly, focusing on tying the laces.

She hums. When you stand and grab your key, slipping it into your pocket, she simply says, “Okay.”

You bite your tongue, resisting the urge to sarcastically ask what, not gonna insist on coming with? Because it’s not her fault. And she’s been understanding about everything. But it’s not fair. She recovered so well–perfectly–from the same situation, meanwhile you keep feeling worse and worse.

You leave the room without another word. The crisp morning air causes goosebumps to erupt on your arms and you welcome the feeling–something so small, but reminds you that you’re alive.

You close your eyes and bask in the sunlight for a beat before starting to walk. The only sounds are the chirping birds in the trees that line the road the motel sits off of and the crunch of dirt under your boots.

It’s perfect.

You walk for the entire 45 minutes, getting back to the motel just as the rest of the team gathers in the parking lot for the usual pre-chase briefing. You make your way to stand between Andy and Peter, intentionally avoiding both Scott and Javi’s questioning glances when they see you come from the road.

The briefing is quick, likely just confirming plans for today’s chase, but you don’t hear much of what’s said. The talking all drones into a monotonous hum in the background of your brain.

The second Javi claps his hands together, signaling the end of it, you move to get into the passenger seat of Scarecrow, sinking down into it. The rest of the team stands around chatting for a minute, then Scott slides into the driver’s seat. He looks at the side of your face when you don’t turn toward him. “Where were you?”

“A walk.”

“Since when do you take walks in the morning?” There’s that fucking concerned tone.

You shrug, still staring out the windshield. “Since today?”

He studies you for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” It’s quick. Reflexive.

He scoffs. “Right.” He keeps looking. “When’s your next appointment with the therapist?”

You turn your head halfway now, glaring at him. “None of your business.”

“Except it is my business, because it’s a condition of your employment.”

You turn back to the windshield with an eye roll. “If I knew you were going to hold it over my head like this, I would’ve just agreed to the leave.”

He adjusts in his seat, his body turning towards you. His tone is sharper now, but there’s a sort of desperation underneath it. “Okay, seriously, what is your problem? I thought we finally figured out how to work together.”

Your jaw tenses, then you turn to look at him with a sigh, keeping your face carefully neutral. “I don’t have a problem, Scott. I’m tired. That’s it.” At his disbelieving glance, you force the tension out of your shoulders and soften your voice. “I’m fine. Really.”

He keeps his eyes on you for a few more moments before rubbing his jaw, finally turning away to start the engine. “Fine.”

- - - -

You manage to keep your frustration contained for four more days before you finally reach your boiling point.

It comes after a chase. A tornado that shifted paths, turning toward yours and Scott’s PAR position. You got out of the way fine, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that he was watching you.

And then he kept watching when you’d all realized a small town was hit and decided to offer your help.

Watched while you performed first aid on a young girl who wouldn’t stop crying.

Watched while you helped a family salvage photo albums from their damaged house.

Watched the entire drive back to the motel.

And he’s still watching when you pull into the parking lot.

You’ve gotten used to the feeling of eyes burning into you, but that doesn’t mean you appreciate it.

You’re trying to be more civil because he’s doing the same. So you don’t say anything as you hop out of the car, grabbing your bag from the backseat.

Or even when he opens the other back door and you can see him glance at you multiple times as he grabs his own bag.

But then he opens his mouth and that’s what does it.

“You okay?”

Something hot and suffocating in your chest explodes and radiates through your entire body, causing you to drop your bag back onto the floor of the backseat.

“Why do you keep fucking asking me that?” It comes out loud and raw.

You watch his eyebrows draw closer together just as you notice the sudden silence around you as the rest of the team stops what they’re doing, shocked by the outburst.

“Because you keep acting like you’re not.” He says it so annoyingly calmly. You want to punch him.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. “That’s what you got from staring at me all the time?”

He pulls back just slightly, confusion flickering across his face. “What?”

“Do you seriously think I can’t see you–feel you watching me constantly?” An incredulous laugh bubbles out of you and the backs of your eyes start to burn. “Everyone! Everyone is constantly watching me! Like–like I’m gonna break or something!”

Javi joins Scott at the other side of the car, looking at you from across the backseat with a concerned expression. “Sunny, kid, nobody thinks you’re going to break.”

You throw your hands in the air, unable to stop the tears that gather along your waterline. “Well, if they did, they’d be right! Here you go! Is this what you were all waiting for? Hm? For me to explode, prove I’m–I’m traumatized?” You grab your bag, swallowing around the lump in your throat as you slam the car door shut.

When you turn around, everyone is–shocker!–watching. They all look around sheepishly, pretending they weren’t just doing the exact thing that set you off in the first place.

Javi jogs around the vehicle, stepping in front of you, hands raised like he wants to touch you but isn’t sure if that’ll make things worse. “Hey, come on. Let’s talk.”

You roll your eyes and throw your head back, sniffling. “I don’t want to talk to you. You already make me talk to a therapist, isn’t that enough?”

“Clearly not,” Scott says from where he’s joined at Javi’s side.

You snap your head back to look at them, locking onto Scott, anger flaring hot in your chest. “Excuse me?”

Javi’s eyes widen as he looks at Scott, trying to silently communicate, but Scott keeps his eyes on you. “You’re having a public meltdown right now. Does that seem like something someone who’s doing well in therapy would do?”

“Oh please,” you spit out. “Like you know anything about therapy.”

“Okay,” Kate interjects, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and physically pulling you toward your shared motel room. “Show’s over, everyone.” You try to shrug her off, but she only tightens her hold on you. As soon as the door shuts behind you, she lets go and faces you. “You wanna tell me what that was about?” It’s not accusing, but it’s not as gentle as her usual tone when you’re upset.

You throw your bag down onto the floor and sit on the edge of the bed, bending over to untie your boot laces with more force than necessary. “No.”

“No?” She crosses her arms, studying you.

You sit up with a huff, pushing your hair back from your face where it stuck due to the tears. “No.”

“Look,” she sighs, uncrossing her arms as she shifts her weight. “I get that you’re upset, but this,” she gestures at you, “isn’t going to make it go away. You can’t just shut down.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” It’s not as sharp as you want it to be.

Kate takes a step closer. “What happened?” Her voice is soft again.

You look up for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut, which forces a tear down your cheek. You wipe it with the heel of your hand before looking back at her. “Why are you fine?” At the confusion on her face, you continue. “You just… got over it. And–and it’s not even about the stupid tornado anymore. It’s about the fact that everyone won’t stop watching.” Your voice cracks on the last word, but you keep going. “It’s like nobody trusts me when I say I’m okay!”

“Can you blame them?” She sits on the bed next to you. Not touching, but close enough that you could easily bump her shoulder with yours. “You’ve been off ever since. Do you think nobody’s noticed how little you’ve been sleeping?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have to stay awake so late just to have a little alone time if everybody would stop watching me,” you retort.

“You’ve been snappy.”

“I’ve always been snappy with Scott–“

“Not just with him. With me. With Javi. With Tyler and the Wranglers. I may have only known you for three weeks, but I know this isn’t you.”

You stare at your hands in your lap, starting to pick at your fingernails. It’s weird—being known so well that someone who hasn’t even known you for a month can see through the facade you’ve tried to keep up.

It makes you wonder just how much the rest of the team has picked up on, too.

Probably all of it, now that you’ve blown up in front of all of them.

The thought makes your face burn as you feel embarrassment wash over you. You drop your head with a sigh. “That was embarrassing.”

She nudges your shoulder with her own. “It wasn’t embarrassing. I just wish you’d said something sooner. I’m sure everyone does.”

You both just sit in silence, reflecting for a few moments before you get up to take a long, hot shower. The water soothes some of the tension in your muscles and clears some of the fog in your mind. You come out of the bathroom, still drying your hair with a towel, and stop short when you see Scott and Javi sitting on Kate’s bed with her. Your stomach drops.

“Hi,” you say slowly, moving to sit on your bed. Kate stands, giving you a sympathetic look before going into the bathroom and turning on the shower. Once the bathroom door shuts, the brief moment of silence is suffocating. “Am I being fired?”

“You’re not being fired.” Though the way Scott says it isn’t exactly reassuring.

You tuck one leg under you, eyes darting between both of them. “That didn’t make me feel better.”

“You’re not being fired,” Javi reiterates, gentler. Your shoulders drop slightly. “But you are taking at least three days off. Plus a therapy appointment.” Your eyes widen and you open your mouth, but he cuts you off. “It’s not a suggestion.”

“Look,” Scott says before you can say anything, his voice softer but tight, like he’s working to keep it that way. “Nobody is mad at you, all right? But it’s obvious that you need more time off. To deal with what happened.”

You scoff. “I’ve dealt with what happened just fine. Have you seen me flinch or hesitate in the field? No. I freaked out because you guys keep treating me like a baby.”

“We’re not treating you like a baby–“

“You are, though!” You cut Scott off. “You all are, but especially you. I have felt you watching me nonstop and it’s driving me insane. I have talked it out with the therapist, processed what happened, and gotten over it. But I can’t do anything now without, like, twelve pairs of eyes on me!”

“We just want to make sure you’re okay–“ Javi starts, but you cut in again.

“Then why don’t you guys do the same thing to Kate?” Your voice rises an octave, desperation laced underneath. “You don’t baby her! You don’t watch her! So what’s the difference? Because she went through the exact same thing.”

“Because you’ve only been doing this for a year.” Scott’s voice hardens, but, to his credit, doesn’t raise. “And from what I understand, most of us who have been doing this ten times as long haven’t even seen something to that degree. Kate has.” He pauses, then points at you. “You haven’t.”

You open and close your mouth a couple times, trying to come up with a rebuttal, but now everything just feels like it would come across as childish. Eventually, you settle on, “You guys aren’t doing me any favors by making me feel like…” You trail off, searching for the right words as you chew on your bottom lip. “Like I can’t handle this.”

“We know you can handle this,” Javi assures. “We just don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell us if you’re struggling.”

“I’m not struggling! That’s my entire point!” Your voice is at its normal volume, but the frustration is evident. “You guys have been acting like I should be, but I’m just not. I was–at first. But it’s really fucking hard to recover when nobody will give you the space to.”

Scott rubs his jaw while Javi sighs before saying, “Look. I get it. I do. And I’m sorry–truly. We never meant to make you feel like we didn’t trust you or like you weren’t capable of doing the job. But we’ve all seen how exhausted and snappy you’ve been. You can’t blame us for being concerned.”

You let out a long exhale through your nose, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m exhausted because the only time I’ve been able to have any sense of privacy is after everyone has gone to sleep.”

Javi’s face softens as a guilty look flashes across it. “We’ll get you your own room.” Scott opens his mouth to protest, but Javi pushes on. “And you can take the three days to decompress.”

“I don’t want three days off. And I don’t care about getting my own room–Kate is the most tolerable person here. I just want to exist without feeling like my every move is being monitored.”

“At least take tomorrow off, then. Please,” Javi pleads. “Catch up on sleep, take the time alone, and we’ll talk with the team.” He looks at Scott, nodding as he continues. “We’ll make sure everyone gives you some space, yeah?”

Scott just looks at him for a beat before nodding slowly, almost hesitantly.

You look at Scott directly. “You need to start trusting me.”

His head snaps back to face you, eyebrows drawn close together. “I trust you.”

“No. You don’t,” you counter, but it’s less defensive than before. It’s tired. You open your mouth to continue, but Kate comes out of the bathroom then.

She looks between the three of you–noticing your slumped shoulders, Scott’s stiff posture, and the concern etched on Javi’s face. “Is everything okay?”

Scott looks like he wants to say something, but Javi stands from the bed quickly. He walks over to Kate and places a hand on her elbow, gently guiding her toward the door. “Let’s go get dinner, hm?” Nobody else even gets the chance to say anything before the door is clicking shut behind them, leaving you and Scott in a heavy silence.

The silence stretches before he finally speaks. “I do trust you.” His voice is rough, but quieter now.

You search his face, trying to figure out what’s under his tone. “Then why does it feel like you’re waiting for me to fail? Every time I look at you, you’re already looking,” your throat feels tight. “And I can see it–you’re just waiting for me to screw up.”

He lets your words hang between you for a moment before he sighs. “That’s not what it is.”

“Then what is it, Scott?” The backs of your eyes start to burn again and you mentally curse yourself for being so emotional, clenching your fists. “Because, to me, it feels like we went from you not being able to stand me because you thought I was incompetent to you being scared of me fucking up. And I hate that–I hate it so bad.”

He swallows hard and takes his hat off, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not scared of you fucking up.”

You wait a beat for him to continue, scoffing when he doesn’t. “Am I going to get any explanations? Or just you telling me I’m wrong and that’s it.”

“I just…” he groans, looking up at the ceiling. “I just know that that tornado was really intense and it would make sense if you weren’t okay.” The words tumble out, almost like he doesn’t want you to actually hear them.

You repeat the words in your head, letting them sink in, before feeling the corners of your mouth turn up. “Can you say that again?”

He groans again and lowers his head to glare at you, but the twitching of his mouth gives him away. “Don’t.”

Your smile widens and you tilt your head in mock innocence. “No, no, I just want to make sure I heard you correctly. Because it almost sounded like you’re worried about me.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” he deadpans.

“No, I’m summarizing.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying, I’ve been keeping an eye on you because it’s only been a couple weeks and nobody would be shocked if you were still processing it.”

“And I’m just saying that I am still processing it, but I’m fine to be working and wouldn’t have blown up if you guys weren’t being so overprotective.” You raise your eyebrows, hoping your firm but gentle tone convinces him.

He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment and rubbing his forehead while he takes in your words. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. We’ll…” he trails off, pursing his lips while he thinks over his next words. “We’ll try to back off. Give you space to recover, or whatever.”

He leaves shortly after with an awkward bye, and with Kate and Javi still gone, it gives you some time to think. About how embarrassed you are, firstly. Then about how lucky you are to have such supportive teammates–people you’d consider family more than anything.

And then you think about Scott. About how–for the first time ever–having a serious conversation about your feelings didn’t feel like pulling teeth.

And, well, isn’t that just horrible for you to realize?

Because now you know he’s capable of listening. Actually hearing what you’re saying and internalizing it.

It gives you hope.

And hope is dangerous.

You don’t get too long to spiral about that, thankfully. Kate comes back and you tell her all about the conversation, to which she listens intently with a new gleam in her eyes.

You ignore that.

And for the first time in weeks, you go to sleep at a decent time.

- - - -

Waking up to find Kate already gone makes you disoriented. You fumble for your phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen, and are shocked to see it’s nearly 11 a.m.

You slept for 12 hours.

You scroll on your phone for less than an hour before deciding you’re bored.

Just because you weren’t allowed out in the field today doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to work.

So you dig your laptop out of your bag and pull up the SPC convective outlooks, trying to get an idea of how tomorrow’s chase will be. You’re thrilled to see a level 5 risk across a large portion of the state.

You pull up every forecast you can find, map out potential routes, and try to predict which areas are most likely to develop tornadoes.

You’re practically buzzing by the time you’re done, looking over your notes and routes, excited to share them with the rest of the team…

Then you see it’s only 1:15 and groan, flopping back against the pillow.

Next idea is taking a walk.

So you change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, slide on your sneakers, and head out, popping your earbuds into your ears. The sun beams down on you, a cool breeze keeping it from being too hot. Based on where the team is chasing today, you figure you have at least two hours before the system they’re tracking reaches you and takes away the sunshine.

This motel is in a more populated area than the ones you usually stay at, so you decide to walk the short distance to some nearby shops and look around.

You don’t usually get much time to explore the cities you stop in. Most nights you arrive late and leave early the next morning. And if you stay in the same city multiple nights, you spend almost the entire day out chasing. It’s nice being able to explore something local, even if it’s just a small town.

The first store that catches your eye is a coffee shop. When you step inside, you’re hit with the smell of coffee and inhale deeply. The low lighting and soft music make the small seating area feel cozy rather than suffocating.

You give the barista your order and look around at the display of trinkets for purchase at the counter while you wait. Stickers, notepads, pins. You pick up a sticker that loudly declares “Hello Sunshine!” with a pastel rainbow and sun with a small smile on your face. You buy it, because duh, then grab your finished drink to continue your walk.

It’s nice. Really nice. No one is asking if you’re okay–no one is watching.

After an hour, you can hear distant rolling thunder over your music, signalling the system picked up speed. You pull up the radar on your phone as you pull out your earbuds, seeing that it also looks like it weakened–now only producing small thunderstorms instead of the severe ones it was initially projected to. Which means the team will likely be back soon since there’s nothing to chase.

You start the walk back, letting the thunder be the soundtrack this time.

- - - -

Sure enough, the team returns shortly after you get back to your motel room. You hear commotion outside and look out the window to see everyone unloading the vehicles, then rush out the door, practically skipping over to them with a smile on your face.

“Hey, guys! Okay, I know the chase today probably wasn’t great because the system weakened, but I did a bunch of planning for tomorrow and I think we have a really good shot at catching something big. Also, I’m sorry about my meltdown yesterday–it was really embarrassing and I know you were all only watching because you care.” The words tumble out in little more than one breath.

The rest of the team turns to look at you with a mixture of amusement and relief at your sudden energy–a drastic difference compared to your behavior over the past three weeks. The only person who seems… suspicious? Concerned? Is Scott.

“Jesus, kid, relax,” Javi chuckles. “First–give us a minute to unload stuff, then we can go over your plans for tomorrow. Second–don’t apologize. We understand.”

You nod and shove your hands into your pockets, rocking on your heels. “Sorry, got a little excited.” You huff out a laugh, catching Scott’s narrowed gaze briefly before looking away.

As they finish up, you run back to your room to grab your laptop and bring it out with you. You set it up on the tailgate of Javi’s truck, already pulling up your notes as the others start to gather around.

“All right,” Javi says, clapping his hands together once everyone’s ready. “Show us what you got.”

You pull up the note file on your laptop with your half-finished thoughts, explaining them more in depth, along with the outlooks and forecasts. It quickly becomes a discussion, everyone throwing out their opinions on your proposed routes.

When you share your thoughts on which route would be the most promising, you’re shocked when Scott–who’s been surprisingly quiet so far–agrees with you. “It’s right along the system’s projected strongest edge. Unless something big changes, this area here,” he steps forward and traces a circle with his finger on the screen, “is most likely to see the worst of it.”

You stare up at his concentrated face for a moment, feeling a sudden warmth in both your chest and face at his agreement and physical proximity to you. You blink a couple times and force your attention back to the rest of the team, vibrating in anticipation. “So, unless something changes, do we have a plan?”

They all glance at each other before nodding. “We have a plan!” Javi cheers, to which you pump your fist. “Glad to see you’re back to bouncing off the walls.” That causes the others to laugh.

“You know, there’s a bar just down the road. We have a night off, Sunny’s back, and tomorrow’s gonna be a big day…” Kate trails off, wiggling her eyebrows at the others, who immediately jump at the suggestion.

Everyone practically rushes off to their rooms to get ready, leaving you standing there, chuckling.

Well, everyone except Scott.

You turn to shut your laptop when his deep voice says, “You put a lot of work into that.” It’s closer than you expect.

You shrug and your face burns once again. You stay facing away from him, not wanting him to see the effect he has on you. “I was bored.”

He hums and takes a step back, pausing. You finally turn back to him, tucking your laptop under your arm. “Good job.” He gives you a sharp nod and turns away, walking toward his room, leaving you with a traitorous, flipping stomach.

- - - -

After you shower, Kate insists on dressing you up. She digs through your bag, frowning and grumbling with each item she pulls out that she doesn’t deem suitable for a night out. You sit on the edge of your bed, towel wrapped around your body, picking at your nails in your lap.

It’s been months since you’ve actually gone out with the team, and even then you never cared much about dressing up. And, based on the texts in your group chat with Dani and Lily, it sounds like a bunch of other teams are going to be there, too.

Kate makes a pleased noise, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turn to see her holding up a fitted shirt with a deeper neckline than you're used to, far from your typical style. “Where have you been hiding this?”

You huff out a laugh. “I forgot I even had that.”

“Okay, well,” she grunts as she pushes herself off the ground, holding up the shirt and a nicer pair of jeans. “We have your outfit.”

You roll your eyes, but take the clothes to the bathroom. Once you’re changed, you look at yourself in the mirror and feel your stomach turn with anxiety. Not because you’re not happy with how you look.

Because you are.

But everything feels tight, and even though you know nothing you’re wearing shows too much skin, it still feels revealing.

You slowly open the bathroom door, seeing Kate is dressed now, too. She’s wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a fitted black one-shoulder top. You wolf whistle, which makes her laugh as she looks you up and down.

“You look hot!”

Your face burns in embarrassment as you wave her off. “Says you.”

She rolls her eyes at your deflection and gestures at the desk chair. “Sit.”

You draw your eyebrows together. “Why?”

“So I can do your makeup, duh.” She shakes her head as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “Uh, no thank you.”

She shoots you an unimpressed look. “Why?”

“Because I don’t wear makeup, like, ever.” You try to laugh it off, but it comes out a little shaky. Why are you so nervous?

She notices–of course she does–and her face softens as she studies you for a moment. “Okay. We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “No–I…” You breathe out a laugh again. “Sorry, I’m, like, really fucking anxious about this for some reason. Um, you can do it, if you want. Just, not a lot of it, maybe?”

A grin forms on her face and she nods, grabbing her makeup bag and gesturing for you to sit. She kneels in front of you and digs out an eyelash curler, a tube of mascara, a lip liner pencil, and lipstick. She starts by curling your eyelashes, letting the silence hang for a minute.

“So,” she drags out as she reaches for the mascara. “Apparently a bunch of teams are going out tonight.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yeah…”

“And you look hot…”

You start to roll your eyes, but she makes a scolding sound. You force yourself to sit still, fighting the urge to pull away at the mascara wand hovering dangerously to your eye. “No.”

She whines. “Why not? You’re young! Single! And all you do is work. I asked Javi, he said you’ve never even attempted to date someone in the year you’ve been here.”

“I liked you better before you started dating Tyler,” you deadpan.

She gasps in mock offense, screwing the cap onto the mascara before reaching for the lip liner. “Ouch.” She starts lining your lips carefully and you try not to smirk. “I’m just saying. Have you ever even been in an actual relationship?”

You glare down at her, not speaking until she pulls away the pencil. “Yes, I have, thank you very much.”

“And?” She looks up at you expectantly.

You shrug. “Just didn’t work out. Then I moved here, and… I don’t know, I care more about the job than trying to date again.”

She hums thoughtfully, forcing your lips apart with the lipstick before starting to apply it. “Then don’t date.”

“Tha’s what I’n doing,” you mutter with your mouth still open, confused at the sudden backpedal.

She rolls her eyes and tilts her head. “No. Then don’t date.”

She lets you sit in confusion for a few moments before it finally clicks. You gasp and smack her shoulder, causing her to smear the lipstick onto your chin. “No!”

She laughs loudly, grabbing a makeup wipe to fix it. “What! It’s an option!”

You shake your head as soon as she pulls away the wipe. “No, it is not.”

She’s still laughing, wiping an exaggerated tear from her eye. “Okay, okay.”

- - - -

The bar is packed.

Kate was right. A bunch of teams did decide to go out tonight.

You have your arms crossed over your middle as you both walk through the front doors, looking for the rest of your team. Kate spots them first and points them out, crowded around a high table near the back. She grabs your arm to drag you with her, but the second you see Scott you dig your heels in.

“Nope. Just decided I actually don’t want to do this.”

Your sudden stop pulls her back with you, and she turns back around to look at you, alarmed. “What? Why?”

Your wide eyes are locked on his back and your entire body feels like it’s on fire. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that is criminally tight on his biceps, blue jeans, and a backwards hat.

Backwards. Hat.

“Oh, Kate, I’m gonna throw up.”

She tracks your line of sight and a knowing smirk creeps onto her face. “I knew it!”

You shake your head frantically, turning at her, eyes still wide. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

You try to turn back toward the door, but she doesn’t loosen her hold on your arm. “Kate, I’m going to die.”

“You’re not going to die.” Her voice is firm, but there’s a hint of amusement in it.

“My boobs are out!” You squeak.

“Barely.” She gently spins you around to face her and grabs onto both of your upper arms, bending slightly to be at face level. “You look hot.” You shake your head and her grip tightens. “Yes you do. And you aren’t too exposed.”

“I feel too exposed,” you whisper.

Her face and tone soften. “You’re not. I promise.” Her grip loosens slightly. “Okay, how about we have one drink, and if you still hate it we can leave.”

You hesitate, then slowly nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Okay.”

She smiles widely, patting your arms before letting them go. “There we go. All right, come on.” She lets you stand for another moment before starting to head toward the table, checking to make sure you’re with her. You roll your shoulders back and take a deep breath as you follow closely behind her, plastering a casual smile on your face.

You both get a few up and down glances from some of the others as you greet them, but nobody outwardly says anything, which eases some of your anxiety.

You pointedly avoid looking anywhere near Scott.

After the initial greetings, you’re quick to offer to run up to the bar for you and Kate. She gives you her order and you slip through the crowd, making your way to the crowded bar. You get stuck a few people deep in the crowd and know you’re going to be waiting for a while.

When you’re standing alone, you use the time to focus on the thumping of the music, trying to let it pull you out of your head. You only get a few seconds before an arm is unceremoniously thrown around your shoulders, knocking you off balance.

“Sunny!” Boone’s voice booms in your ear.

You squeal and laugh loudly, grabbing onto his shirt to steady yourself. “Boone!”

He laughs and grabs onto your arms to steady you. “I thought you were never gonna show up,” he shouts over the music and crowd.

“I was getting ready with Kate,” you say back, jabbing your thumb toward the table where Kate is.

You glance over to see the rest of the Wranglers have joined your team. Tyler stands pressed against Kate’s side, doing a very poor job at attempting to look casual. You chuckle at that, but stop short when your eyes move over to see Scott already looking at you and Boone. You look away quickly and cross your arms back over your middle.

You both chat while waiting, which takes far longer than you’d initially hoped, but gives you plenty of time to start to feel more comfortable in the environment. By the time you get your drinks, you’re genuinely laughing along with Boone and not consciously covering yourself up anymore.

When you make it back to the table, everyone is in a passionate discussion about the system that’s supposed to come through tomorrow. You set Kate’s drink down in front of her, taking a sip of your own as Peter is about to say where you guys are chasing tomorrow.

“Ah–!” You cut him off with your hand out, turning to look pointedly at Tyler with a smirk. “You know these guys like to steal our ideas.”

All five of the Wranglers protest in mock offence, which makes your team laugh. Tyler wraps an arm around you, putting you in a loose headlock. “Take it back.”“Never!” You can’t stop the giggles that come out, thinking in the back of your mind that you’re glad you decided to come out tonight.

There’s some more back and forth before Tyler finally releases you with a defeated sigh when you refuse to take it back–leaving you smiling triumphantly.

- - - -

Eventually, the large group splits up. Kate and Tyler sneak off, you decide to stick with the rest of the Wranglers–minus Dexter, who decides to call it a night–, and the rest of your team stays near the table.

Two drinks later, you’re feeling pleasantly tipsy on the makeshift dance floor with Boone, Dani, and Lily. The thumping music, flashing lights, and sea of bodies keep you grounded in the moment.

You’re in the middle of laughing at Boone’s ridiculous dance moves when another team you vaguely recognize makes their way over. You shift to make room in your small circle, and they quickly fill the space.

“Hi!” The tallest of the group greets you all loudly over the music. “I’m Jack, this is Landon and Adam.” He points at his teammates, who shoot you guys polite smiles and waves. “Y’all are with Tyler Owens, right? The ‘Tornado Wranglers?’”

Boone nods with a proud smile, gesturing between himself, Dani, and Lily as he introduces them. “That we are.” He points at you. “She’s cheating on her team right now.”

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning closer to Jack so he can hear. “I’m with Storm PAR.” You give him your name. “But most people call me Sunny.”

“No shit,” he says, studying you for a beat. It doesn’t feel predatory, but you still shiver. “That’s Miller’s crew, right?”

“And Javi’s, yes.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Heard they’re pretty selective about hiring. You must be pretty damn smart,” he says with a light chuckle, but you tense anyway. Was that a compliment?

“I’d like to think so.” You shrug, keeping your tone light, then turn your focus back on your friends.

Jack seems to take the hint, dropping the topic. The three of them spend the next few songs chatting, getting to know you all. Just when you think you’re safe, Jack turns his attention back to you, leaning in and stepping just a little too close.

“So, how long are you guys gonna be in town?”

“Not sure,” you shout over the music, taking a half step back. “Depends on the forecast.”

“Well we plan on staying a few days… how about you and I get dinner if you end up staying?”

Your stomach flips. “Oh!” You look at the rest of the Wranglers wide-eyed, trying to silently communicate what’s happening. “Um–” you laugh, mind racing through ways to let him down easily. “Yeah, sure.” The words tumble out before your brain catches up.

You blink.

Oh fuck.

“Great!” Jack exclaims, pulling back to look down at you. You shoot him a smile despite screaming internally. He doesn’t seem to notice. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you with a new contact pulled up. “I’ll text you after the chase tomorrow and see if we can try to make something work, yeah?”

You chuckle nervously as you type in your number with shaky fingers and hand the phone back, the pit in your stomach growing larger. You can feel Dani, Lily, and Boone staring at you in shock. You’ve never given a stranger your number during a night out.

You politely excuse yourself from the group, wincing at the tightness in your voice once your back is to them, and make a beeline for the table where the rest of your team is.

Kate’s still missing, so you plant yourself firmly between Javi and Peter across the table from Scott, who’s tall enough to block you from the others still dancing. Your eyes rapidly flick over the drinks on the table–all beer, of course–and you take a large gulp from the nearest bottle with your eyes squeezed shut.

“Uh, help yourself, I guess,” Javi says. You barely register the words as you take another gulp.

You finally lower the bottle with a grimace at the taste, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. When you open your eyes, everyone is looking at you with a mixture of concern and amusement.

“Thought you didn’t drink beer,” Scott says dryly.

“I don’t,” you deadpan.

“So why the sudden change of heart?” Javi asks.

“Because I just accidentally gave a guy my number and told him I’d go out to dinner with him if we stayed in town past tomorrow, but I actually don’t want to do that. And I don’t know why I don’t want to because he was nice and kinda cute, I guess, so I should just go for it since Kate said I should, but–“

“Jesus, relax,” Javi cuts you off with a chuckle. He grabs your forearm, squeezing once before dropping it. “Just tell the guy you don’t want to.”

You look at him incredulously. “Are you insane? I can’t just tell him I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Peter asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Because I already said yes! And he, like, basically implied I don't belong on the team!”

Scott’s beer pauses halfway to his mouth. “He what?” His voice is tight–tighter than you’ve ever heard it outside of an argument with you.

Your eyes shoot to him, surprised by the reaction. “I–I’m being dramatic. He didn’t actually say that. He just said I must be ‘pretty damn smart’ since you’re so… selective with hiring.”

He slowly lowers the bottle, letting it hit the table with a clink that’s louder in your ears than the music. “Who was it?”

You shake your head frantically, both hands flying out in front of you. “Nobody. Seriously, it’s nothing. I’m just freaking out because it’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. Really, it’s not a–“

He raises his eyebrows, leaning slightly over the table. “Who?”

“I…” You trail off, drawing your arms back in and picking at your nails. You look around Scott and point with your chin. “Tall guy, green shirt, white hat.”

Scott turns halfway to find him before turning back to you with a carefully neutral expression. “You said yes to a date with Jack Brooks?” He sounds unimpressed.

“I didn’t mean to!” You squeak out, but when you register his tone, you tilt your head, suddenly a little offended. “Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”

He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, taking another sip of beer. “Nothing.”

You whip your head from Javi to Peter. “What does he mean by that?”

Peter holds his hands up in mock surrender and slowly steps back, joining the rest of the team behind you. You click your tongue in betrayal and turn your full focus to Javi, arms crossed over your chest.

Javi’s eyes widen, his eyes flitting between you and Scott. “I don’t know!”

“Scott.” It comes out whinier than you intend, and his jaw clenches. Hm. “What did you mean by that?”

He shrugs and takes another slow sip. “Just didn’t think he was your type.”

“He–” You splutter. “Okay, first off, I don’t have a ‘type.’ Second, I feel like I should be offended by that. What do you think my type is?”

He hums. “Not him.”

You pout and cross your arms over your chest, feeling a little childish, but a lot irritated. “Just for that, maybe I will go out with him.”

You can see Javi out of the corner of your eye, his head going back and forth like he’s watching a tennis match.

His eyes flick to where your arms sit, then back up to your face. He shrugs again. “Okay.”

You stare at him, waiting for literally anything else.

He just stares back.

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Why are you being weird?”

He shakes his head, lips pursed. “I’m not being weird.”

“Yes you are!” It comes out high pitched, but you don’t care. You’re getting really fucking annoyed.

“Okay,” he says your name, taking another sip of beer.

You turn to Javi, who just shrugs.

“Awesome. Helpful, as always,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

“Wait–” Javi starts.

You hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. You grab the same beer bottle as before, take another large gulp of the truly disgusting liquid, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and head for the door.

The cool night air is an immediate relief after hours inside the stuffy bar. The walk to the motel is short, but just enough time for you to replay every moment with Scott.

By the time you lock your motel room door behind you–thankful Kate and Tyler must have decided to go to his room–your body is still thrumming with frustration. You lean back against the door, hand in your hair.

But there’s something else under it, too.

Because, yeah, he was irritating.

But he also looked so fucking good.

You need a shower.

Or a lobotomy.

You push off the door and grab pajamas, then strip out of your clothes, throwing them vaguely in the direction of your bag.

You turn on the shower and let it warm up before stepping in. The heat and steam from the water help relieve some of the tension in your shoulders, but now you’re left with just your thoughts.

Thoughts of Scott and his stupid fucking backwards hat.

And the way his voice dips when he’s talking to you–actually talking, not arguing.

The motel room door slamming shut has you jolting out of your thoughts, grasping onto the shower wall for stability. You try to slow your breathing and stop the pounding in your ears so you can listen, hoping it’s just Kate stopping in to grab something before going back to Tyler’s room.

But when you don’t hear the door again within a couple minutes, you silently curse, resigned to the fact that Kate’s back for the night and you won’t get to wallow in your thoughts.

You wash your hair and scrub your body before getting out. Once you’re dressed in your pajamas, you step back out of the bathroom, spotting Kate getting comfy in her bed.

“Where’d you sneak off to?” You ask her slyly, pretending your entire body isn’t still tight with tension.

She flushes, a smile creeping onto her face. “Nowhere.”

You chuckle, shutting off the overhead light. “Bullshit.” You get settled into your own bed. “You and Tyler have fun?”

She tosses a pillow at you, which hits you square in the face. “Shut up,” she says over your giggles. “How was your night?”

Now it’s your turn to flush. You toss the pillow back onto the end of her bed and shut off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “Uh, it was fine.”

“Fine?” You can hear her shuffle, like she’s turned to face you.

You hesitate. “Um, I got asked out.”

She sits up so aggressively you know the exact motion without even seeing her. “You what?!”

- - - -

The next morning is rough.

You and Kate stayed up far too late discussing your potential date with Jack–with her opinion being that you should at least give it a chance as long as you feel comfortable–and only got a few hours of sleep.

You still hadn’t made a decision by the time you fell asleep and are very grateful to discover he still hasn’t texted when you wake up. But knowing that he likely will after the chase makes your stomach knot.

When you and Kate finally drag yourselves out to the parking lot for the morning briefing, you both look worse for wear. Once the convective outlooks for the day are pulled up, though, you all immediately lock in. The level 5 risk area has grown larger and everyone knows there isn’t just a risk for tornadoes anymore–there’s a risk for devastating damage.

Since you came up with the initial plans for the routes, Javi and Scott let you take over that portion of the briefing and make the final call–which you’re both shocked and extremely touched by.

Scott hands you his tablet so you can look over everything closer. You take a minute to review the outlooks, current radar, and your route plans. “I think we should stick with the route we talked about yesterday.” You turn the tablet around to show the others the current radar and zoom in. “The models are projecting the same track, just stronger. We could maybe head out earlier, push a little further east to give ourselves a little more distance, but I think we go with the same general plan.”

You look between the others for approval, gaze lingering on Scott and Javi a beat longer. Scott holds his hand out for the tablet. You hand it over, and he scrolls through the pages. He tilts the screen to show Javi as well and they share a few hushed words before Scott gives a nod. “Then we need to move. Pack up–we’re leaving in five.”

Everyone jumps into action and you guys are on the road three minutes later. Scott insists on driving since you ‘look like shit,’ and you don’t even try to argue.

You slide into the passenger seat, eyes locked onto the radar on the tablet in your lap for the first few minutes of the drive. You finally look up once you realize there’s no music playing, not trusting your thoughts to not wander in the silence. Then you spot a familiar can in the cupholder.

“Since when do you drink those?”

“What?” He follows your gaze briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “That’s yours.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

You hum sarcastically. “Considering the fact I didn’t buy it, I’d say it’s not.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes. “I bought it for you.” He says it like it’s obvious.

“What?”

“Jesus, are you deaf?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not deaf, asshole.” You wince. “Sorry–trying to be nice. Um, thank you. But why? And when?”

He smirks when you catch yourself. “This morning. And because you seemed pissed when you left the bar, which meant you wouldn’t sleep. And today is not the day for you to be off your game. So… caffeine.” He gestures toward it.

You study the side of his face long enough to recognize that you definitely should’ve said something by now, but your mouth and brain seem to have lost their connection. He finally turns to look at you and his eyebrows draw together at the look on your face. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly–too quickly. “Thank you. That was… weirdly nice.”

“I can be nice,” he argues defensively, eyes returning to the road.

“Sure,” you say, eyebrows raised, cracking open the can and taking a long sip. You deliberately focus on the taste of the fruity carbonation instead of the way the entire exchange made you feel.

You set the can back in the cupholder and press play on a random playlist on your phone, then pull up the radar again. You get a minute to study it before Scott says, “So, you going on that date?”

You freeze. “Why do you care?” It’s meant to be snippy, but it comes out smaller than you’d like.

He shrugs, but you can see the familiar tick of his jaw. “Just making conversation.”

You let out a long exhale, focusing intently on the tablet in your lap. “I don’t know yet,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?” His voice is tight.

‘Because I don’t even know the guy.”

Dumbest reason to pick, Sunny, good job.

“Yeah, that’s usually how first dates work,” he deadpans.

“Just– drop it. Please.” You try to keep your voice even, but you’re sure he can pick out some of the panic in it. “We have this to worry about.” You hold up the tablet.

He doesn’t look at you, but you can see his jaw unclench just slightly before he nods and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

- - - -

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what the system turns into.

One second you’re watching a small funnel descend from the clouds–cheering and planning your interception–and the next you’re staring down the biggest tornado you’ve ever seen.

The radar goes dark. Lily hops on your team’s channel–quickly followed by the rest of the Wranglers. Her drone was taken out by lightning. The visibility is practically nonexistent.

You’re fucking scared.

And then the monster in front of you shifts–heading straight for a nearby city.

So all four Storm PAR vehicles and three Wranglers’ vehicles change course.

Kate’s voice crackles through your headsets. “Okay, guys, there’s nothing we can do to stop it, but when you get there, make sure people get to a safe place.”

“All right, where am I headed?” Boone asks.

“There’s… there’s a… There's a kids' park on Main,” Dani says shakily. “Make sure to get people to basements, uh, big buildings, no windows. Stay away from windows. No cars, all right?”

You zoom in on a spot on the radar and hold it up for Scott with trembling hands. He looks at it briefly before nodding, pushing the pedal down a little harder and turning onto the city’s main street. You tap your earpiece. “Scott and I are going into downtown. We could use more hands–looks like there’s a lot of shops, a movie theater, places that’ll be full.”

“Kate and I will follow you,” Javi says.

“Me too,” Tyler confirms just as the sirens start.

You and Scott share a look–the one that tells the other to stay safe without actually saying it–before he parks haphazardly just outside a farmers market. Javi and Tyler’s trucks screech to a stop behind you, and the five of you climb out.

The wind whips everything around, and for just a second, you’re back. Back in the empty pool, clinging onto a skinny pipe with stinging hands, prepared to die.

Then you get pulled down, and you look up just as a tent flies over you. Scott is pressed to your side with an arm wrapped around your upper back, keeping you crouched. You look at him with wide eyes, faces close enough that your noses bump briefly, before he releases you.

“Get these people inside,” he shouts over the wind.

You nod once and spring back up, rapidly scanning the nearby buildings. “The theater,” you call, pointing toward the building. “It’s the biggest building with no windows!”

Tyler claps your shoulder before bolting off, directing people toward the building. You split up to do the same.

You run up to a group of younger teenagers who are visibly panicking, not sure where to go. “Get inside the theater,” you shout at them, arms outstretched as you herd them forward. “Go! Get inside, stay low!” They follow your instructions, sprinting toward the double doors that Dexter is holding open, ushering people inside.

You turn to get more people, then notice just how much stronger the wind is. You take a second to stare at the large wedge that’s already at the edge of town before your attention is pulled away by a loud screech of metal. When you turn back, you see a trolley car being blown down the street.

Directly toward Tyler.

You watch in horror as it collects debris and rolls onto its side just as it reaches him.

You run toward him, hearing Kate scream his name through the wind. She must’ve seen it, too.

His lower half is pinned beneath a pile of wood, which is held in place by the trolley car. Both you and Kate grab onto the underside of the wood, grunting as you try to lift it.

You know it’s useless. You know you’re not strong enough. But you are not letting this be how it ends for him–not alone.

Behind you, a car flips, but the sound barely registers. All you hear is the blood rushing in your ears as you strain every muscle in your body to lift the wood.

A loud crash above manages to break through. You shoot your head up and see a large piece of equipment hit a leg of the water tower in front of you. You watch as the support beam breaks off and crumples, landing close enough for you to feel the vibrations under your feet.

But you still don’t leave. Neither does Kate.

“You got to get inside!” Tyler says helplessly from the ground.

“I’m not leaving you!”

“Shut the fuck up!” You shout, cutting through Kate’s nicer words.

You adjust your grip, straining against the wood again.

“Guys,” Tyler warns, looking behind you.

You turn around to see the entire tower starting to collapse. Then feel a sudden shift in the wood under your hands.

Your head snaps back to see Javi with debris wedged under the wood for leverage. “Lift!” He shouts, and you and Kate do just that.

You pull Tyler free just as the water tower falls onto a nearby building, then splinters as it hits the ground, sending a rush of water at you.

The four of you are slammed back in the wave. You swallow a mouthful of water, coughing and spluttering as you flail to grasp onto anything to get yourself back upright. But your eyes burn, and you can’t hear over the wind, and the water just keeps flowing around you, tearing at your grip.

Arms hook under yours and haul you off the ground, pulling you forward before your feet are even solidly on the ground again. You grab blindly onto whoever’s still wrapped around you, letting them drag you inside the theater.

You know you’re inside when you can hear panicking instead of only wind. You rub furiously at your eyes and open them to see Javi standing in front of you, hands still on your biceps to keep you steady. You surge forward and wrap your arms around him, chest heaving as you try desperately to catch your breath. Your shaky hands fist into the back of his shirt as he holds tightly. You hold onto him like you’ll float away if you let go.

Because you might.

Boone’s shouting nearby, directing people out of the lobby, pulls you from your momentary relief.

You’re still in this fucking tornado. And it’s your job to help. Not panic.

So you let go of Javi, push yourself upright, and turn to the group that’s too big for the space you’re all in right now. You ignore the way your clothes cling to your skin uncomfortably, the way your hair is plastered to your neck and forehead.

Your head whips around, taking inventory of the doors you can see from the middle of the crowd. Six auditoriums. Plus staff spaces and bathrooms.

It’ll have to work.

You shove through the crowd and scramble your way onto the concessions counter. “Hey!” You shout, your voice barely cutting through the chaos. Almost every head snaps toward you. “Split into the auditoriums! Fill them! When they’re full, get into a bathroom or staff room! Do not stay in the lobby!” Everyone starts to move, the noise ramping up again. “Stay low!” You add before hopping off the counter, You scan the crowd with wide eyes, hoping to find anyone you know.

Strong hands grip your shoulders from behind, spinning you around. You look up to see Scott. His eyes rake over your body, frantic and wide. “What the hell happened?”

“Tyler got trapped,” you explain, shivering now that you’re standing still. “Water tower fell.” You gesture at yourself instead of saying any more.

“Are you okay.” It’s not a question.

“I’m fine, so is Tyler–”

“I didn’t ask about Tyler,” he interrupts sharply.

“I…” You trail off, mentally cataloguing everything you feel. Your arms are weak from the strain of trying to free Tyler, your lungs burn from the amount of water you inhaled, and you aren’t sure why your entire body is shaking. Still, you nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His eyes stay on yours for another moment, and you can see he doesn’t fully believe you. But he doesn’t push anymore. “Okay, then we need to move.”

His hand wraps around your upper arm, dragging you forward. The crowd has thinned significantly, giving you both a clear shot of Javi, Kate, and Tyler ushering people into an auditorium.

You join them, getting the last few stragglers inside before shutting the door behind you. You run all the way inside, Frankenstein still playing on the screen, when a large section in the middle of the ceiling collapses. People scream and duck to cover their heads.

“See if you can find a basement!” Tyler shouts at Kate and Javi before they all take off in different directions.

You spot Lily, Dani, Boone, and Dexter as they rush around the room, doing what they can to keep people safe. You immediately rush to the middle of the room to see if anyone got injured from the ceiling.

While you frantically look people over, a sudden gust of wind from the front of the room catches your attention. You lock eyes with Scott where he stands a couple aisles back and both run in that direction.

You stop short when you see Tyler, Javi, and Kate in front of an open door. The tornado is close–too fucking close–and your senses are overwhelmed once again by the wind. Tyler runs back into the theater.

“This theater isn’t built to withstand what’s coming!” Javi shouts.

He’s right.

But you will do your best to make sure people are as safe as possible here.

So you run back, jumping in to help Tyler and Dani as they lift a woman who’d fallen. “There you go,” Dani tells her gently, helping her regain her balance.

The ceiling continues to crumble at the front of the auditorium, so you start working on getting everyone toward the back rows of seats and onto the ground. You and all of the other chasers start physically moving people, shouting at them to get low, cover their heads.

You all go to join them just as chunks of the wall behind the screen start getting ripped out–within seconds, the whole wall is gone.

You drop onto your stomach and grab onto the leg of a chair, eyes squeezed shut as the roar of the wind is louder than anything you’ve heard before. You can feel people pressed against both of your sides, but you don’t know who’s where.

You can hear chairs being ripped from the ground–chairs only a few rows closer to the missing wall than you–and screaming as people get sucked into the wind. Then, the row in front of you goes, leaving you all exposed to the wind.

You think you’re screaming.

The person on your right suddenly isn’t pressed against you anymore, and you recognize Lily’s voice as she screams out. Your eyes snap open and you see her flailing in the air, the only thing preventing her from being sucked into the tornado is Tyler, who’s holding onto her tightly with both hands.

Your eyes follow his body, seeing he’s only secured by one boot hooked around the loose leg of a seat. You don’t even think before dragging yourself along the floor, wrapping one arm around the chair his foot is hooked on and the other on the chair behind.

You feel arms wrap around your legs, but keep your face pressed into the hard floor, eyes and jaw clenched tightly. You’re only letting go if you’re physically ripped from this position.

It feels like years later when you think the wind starts to die down. It’s a gradual decrease at first–you think you’re imagining it, coping with the situation.

Or maybe you’re dead.

And then it’s so silent your eardrums feel like they’re exploding.

You don’t open your eyes until you feel someone gently prying your arms from around the chairs. When you look up, you see Dani knelt in front of you. “Come on, Sunny, you’re okay.”

She grabs onto your hands and tries to pull you up, but your legs give out, so she helps you maneuver into a seated position on the floor before rushing off. You look around frantically, trying to find everyone else.

You spot Scott first, directly next to you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he was the one who grabbed your legs based on his position.

You’ll come back to that.

Kate and Javi are holding onto each other from their spots on the floor. Boone is propped up against a seat, laughing a little hysterically. You can’t help but smile–of course that fucker would laugh after almost dying. Dani and Dexter are moving around the theater, helping people.

Then you spot Lily and Tyler. Before you even process the actions, you’re pulling yourself off the ground using a seat back and marching over to Tyler, shaky legs be damned.

“You idiot!”

His head snaps up at you, eyes wide. “What?”

You bend down to shove him, almost falling onto him in the process. He grabs your arms and tries to gently pull you down next to him, but you rip them out of his arms. “‘You got to get inside?’ Really? And your boot?! You thought your boot would keep you from flying into a fucking tornado?”

“I was trying to save Lily!” He defends.

“You can’t save Lily if you’re dead, dipshit!” You round now, pointing your finger at Scott. “And you!”

“Me?” He points at himself, confusion written across his face.

“Yeah, you!” You step closer, looking down at him for the first time ever. “Why would you move to hold my legs when there was nothing covering you?”

He looks even more confused. “Sorry–you’re mad at me for protecting you?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips, looking at him like it should be obvious.

He stands with a grunt, towering over you as usual now. You don’t step back or back down. “The only thing keeping you from being sucked into that thing was two chairs that were seconds away from being airborne.”

“And the only thing keeping you from being sucked into that thing was me!” You argue. “If I went flying, you would have, too! Seems pretty fucking stupid to me.”

“Okay, let’s just celebrate the fact that we’re all alive, hm?” Javi tries, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

The contact makes you immediately deflate, loosely wrapping your arms around him. “Sorry,” you mumble against him, making eye contact with both Tyler and Scott.

Tyler stands and pulls you from Javi’s grasp into a hug. You wrap your arms around his middle tightly. “I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says quietly into your hair.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. Now go kiss your girlfriend or whatever it is you gross couples do,” you say as you gently push him away. He barks out a laugh at that before making a beeline for Kate.

You turn to Scott, whose eyes are still on you. His eyes flick up and down your body a couple times before the corner of his mouth starts to turn up. “Now who doesn’t know how not to be an ass when they’re worried?”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. “Shut up.”

- - - -

Somehow, the vehicles survived.

Most have body and chasing equipment damage, but they all still drive. Scarecrow got the least amount of visible damage, which you feel weirdly prideful about.

On the way back to the motel, Scott lets you play your music with little argument. You turn it up just enough to be background noise, but focus mostly on the torn up earth and structural damage you pass.

Your text tone has both your gazes snapping to the CarPlay screen, showing a text from an unknown number.

“That Jack?” Scott asks casually.

“Who?” You pick your phone up and click on the notification to read the full message.

Maybe: Jack (7:28 pm): Hey, it’s Jack! I hope the chase went well for y’all today. Just wanted to reach out and see if you’re planning on staying in town and still wanted to grab dinner? Let me know!

“Oh! Oh, my god, I totally forgot about that.” You groan and drag a hand down your face. “Dammit.”

“What did he say?” You read the text out to him and he glances at you briefly. “Why ‘dammit?’ I don’t think he said anything bad.”

“He didn’t,” you sigh. “I just… I don’t know.”

He hums thoughtfully, letting you sit in admittedly painful silence for a few moments. Then he clears his throat and shifts in the driver’s seat. “You gonna go?”

“Kate will kill me if I don’t,” you mumble, thumbs hovering over the screen as you think of a response.

“You don’t seem too excited about it.”

“Can we… not talk about this, maybe?” You look up at the side of his face. “Sorry, it just feels weird.”

He shrugs, but his grip tightens ever so slightly on the wheel. “Fine by me.”

The music continues to play quietly in the background as you type and delete countless messages, before finally sending one.

Kate’s right.

You don’t need to be ecstatic about it, but you should at least try.

And it’s time to get over Scott–before it spirals into something you can’t keep shoving down.

You (7:41 pm): hey! the chase was pretty rough can’t lie lol but we’ll be staying in town for a couple days. we could do dinner tomorrow if that works for you

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb, lock it, and resume your staring out the window.

- - - -

You’re not sure when it happened, but a voice firmly saying your name pulls you out of your sleep.

You jolt, rubbing your eyes. “Hm?”

“We’re back,” Scott says quietly as he shuts off the engine.

You blink a few times to adjust to the contrast of the bright interior lights and darkness outside. You grab your phone from your lap and tap the screen, seeing it’s been over an hour since you last checked the time.

“Jesus, sorry.” You groan and wince as you stretch and try to roll out the knot in your neck from the uncomfortable position you were in. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked like you needed the sleep,” he says. It’s so gentle compared to his normal tone you’re not sure you’re not still dreaming. “Plus, I enjoyed the silence for once.” He shoots you a sarcastic smirk.

There he is.

You flip him off before climbing out of the vehicle, grabbing your bag from the backseat. Kate climbs out of the truck next to you with her own bag, and together you wordlessly make your way to your shared motel room.

Once the door is locked behind you, you drop your bag onto the floor and flop facefirst onto your bed. Kate chuckles tiredly before sitting down beside you. You sit in silence for a beat before you groan and reach for your phone in your back pocket, keeping your face pressed into the scratchy comforter.

When you pull it out, you lift your head just enough to see the screen. You open the stack of notifications from while your phone has been on Do Not Disturb and see that Jack did respond.

Maybe: Jack (7:50 pm): Aw, sorry it didn’t go well. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow. How does 6:30 sound?

Kate rolls you onto your side and pulls your arm, angling your phone so she can read your text exchange. She tuts. “You text like you don’t care.”

“Yup,” you deadpan, sending a quick ‘works for me!’ back to Jack.

“You haven’t even saved his number?”

“Why would I save his number?” You retort, yawning.

“Because you’re going on a date with him.”

You shrug and push yourself up, pulling off your polo that’s now stiff since it’s dried. “It puts his name there automatically.”

She shakes her head, following your lead, peeling off her own clothes that are sticking uncomfortably. “Yeah, with a ‘maybe’ in front of it.”

“Still says his name,” you say with a sigh. Saving his number in your phone is so low on your list of priorities you genuinely didn’t even consider it before Kate mentioned it.

You both finish getting ready wordlessly before practically collapsing into your respective beds. You hear Kate’s soft snores within minutes, and you’re quick to follow.

- - - -

With no systems in the immediate area and the vehicles all needing body repairs, you have the day off.

When you finally wake, it’s slow. Peaceful. Nothing like your usual jolt to your alarm.

Until you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand–causing Kate's head to snap up as well–and remember you have a date tonight. You grunt and roll onto your side to grab it, noting it’s just past 11, before scrolling through the notifications. You click on the text.

Maybe: Jack (9:23 am): Perfect! I can pick you up. There’s an Italian place nearby that I’ve heard great things about.

You do love Italian…

You (11:14 am): perfect!

You send the address of the motel, then look over the screen at Kate.

“Italian at 6:30,” you say matter-of-factly before pushing yourself out of bed. “I’m going down to help with shit beforehand. You coming?”

She groans and glares at you. “You’ll make me look bad if I don’t.”

You shoot her a wide, sarcastic smile before getting ready in the bathroom. She goes after you, and you both head out to the parking lot when you’re done, not shocked to see most of the rest of the team already out there.

“Thought you two would be asleep all day!” Javi calls teasingly when he sees you two approach.

You glare at him, but your body betrays you by yawning. “What do we need to do before they get taken to the body shop?”

Scott appears from around the other side of Scarecrow. He reaches into the passenger side before shoving a can into your hand, standing next to you with his arms crossed over his chest as he examines the vehicles.

You refuse to linger on the way your stomach flips at the gesture, cracking it open and muttering a thanks. You also very pointedly ignore the look you can feel Kate giving the side of your face.

Javi lists the damage that’s known so far on each vehicle–almost the entirety of Lion’s chasing equipment is missing or destroyed, Tin Man’s rear windshield is broken along with some of the chasing equipment, Wizard has a completely busted windshield, and Scarecrow has a cracked windshield.

You get to work on evaluating the equipment on the vehicles first. Determining what’s missing, what’s still functional, and what needs to be repaired. You’re on top of the guard rails over the bed on Lion when Andy speaks loud enough from the ground for everyone to hear.

“Since we have the next couple days off, we should go out again tonight.”

Everyone seems enthusiastic about the idea, but you remain carefully silent, focusing intently on a bolt you’re trying to undo.

“Sunny?” Andy asks, and you mentally curse.

You hum distantly.

“You gonna come out tonight?”

“Oh, I, uh–” Jesus, this bolt is screwed way too tight. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Javi asks. His voice sounds disappointed, but you still refuse to look at any of them.

“I have plans,” you reply shortly, hoping they’ll just drop it.

But why would they do that?

“Plans?” Peter now.

“Yes,” you grunt, applying more force now. “Plans.”

“What kind of plans?” You’re pretty sure that’s Mike now.

“Oh, my god, I have a date!” You snap just as the bolt comes loose with a pop.

You could hear a fucking pin drop with the silence that follows–or a bolt, in this case, as it clatters into the bed of the truck, sounding more like a thunderclap.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a single deep breath before hopping down from the rail, busying yourself with finding the bolt.

“Oh, you said yes to that?” It’s so much worse that he doesn’t even sound teasing, he sounds genuinely… curious? Surprised?

“Yes, Javi, I said yes to that!” You squeak.

“Wait, a date with who?” Andy asks as your fingers wrap around the bolt.

You snap up, ready to tell them to mind their own damn business, but smack your head on the rail you were just on top of. “Fuck!” You hiss under your breath, hand flying up to your head.

Scott steps up to the truck bed, hands extended. “Do you want help?”

“No, I do not want help! I want to stop talking about this!”

You finally risk a glance at him, expecting to see a smirk or teasing glint in his eyes.

You’re surprised to instead see a brief twitch of his eyebrows, no hint of teasing anywhere on his face. He watches your face for a second before nodding once, turning back to the others with a clap of his hands. “All right, back to work. We have to get these to the body shop by 4.”

You watch his back for a moment as he goes back to working on Scarecrow’s equipment and everyone else returns to their positions.

Huh.

- - - -

“This?”

“No.”

Kate huffs. “You didn’t even look.”

You sigh and crane your neck to look at the skirt she’s holding from her spot on the floor before dropping your head back onto the bed. “Like I said. No. Why do you even have that packed for chasing?”

She ignores your question and says your name firmly, which makes you raise your eyebrows and push yourself onto your elbows to look at her properly. “You have less than an hour to pick an outfit and get ready.”

You groan, but push yourself up anyway and start digging through your bag. “I was just gonna wear jeans and, like, a nice-ish shirt.”

“Nice-ish?” She asks incredulously. “I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but people do typically try on dates.”

“All right, I think you’re being a little dramatic. I’m going to try, I just… don’t feel like I need to get all dressed up to go sit in a restaurant with a guy I don’t really plan on seeing more than once.”

“If you go into it with that mindset, yeah, you never will see him again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you sigh, finally finding your nicest pair of jeans. “You can help me pick the shirt.”

“What about a dress?”

“Absolutely not.”

She groans dramatically as she dumps both your bag and hers out, digging through the shirt options. You get changed into the jeans and stand with your hands on your hips while you watch her critique every article of clothing.

Finally, she holds up one of her tops. It’s tight, but has more coverage than you were expecting, so you can’t complain too much.

“Can I at least do your makeup?” She asks once you're changed. You open your mouth to refuse, but she continues before you can. “Very minimal–no lip since you’ll be eating, just your eyes and maybe some blush. You don’t have to feel super confident about the date, but I want you to feel confident in yourself.”

You sit with that for a moment before narrowing your eyes at her. “You suck.” But you sit in the chair regardless.

- - - -

45 minutes later, you’re ready to go–and shockingly happy with how you look. If there’s one thing Kate’s good at besides storm chasing, it’s boosting your confidence with surprisingly little intervention.

When Jack texts that he’s in the parking lot, your stomach twists. But Kate practically shoves you out the door with a ‘have fun!' and an offer to steal Tyler's truck if you need to escape.

You plaster on a small smile as you climb into Jack’s truck. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets with a wide smile. He glances briefly at your outfit while you buckle. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, so do you,” you tell him honestly.

The drive is only a couple minutes, filled mostly by him with small talk. Inside, the restaurant is small.

It should feel cozy.

“So, what happened yesterday?” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you pretend to scan the menu after ordering drinks.

“Hm? Oh, the chase!” You launch into a ramble about everything that happened yesterday–how you ended up having to abandon the data collection to help, how close you all came to dying, how much damage the vehicles took. His eyes widen with every addition. “How was it for you guys?”

He chuckles. “Not nearly as exciting as that. Uh, we stayed pretty far back. But, we got some pretty cool pictures and videos.” He pulls out his phone and you lean over the table a little to be able to see.

By the time the waitress comes back to take your orders, you feel much more comfortable than when you first sat down.

“So, how long have you been with Storm PAR?” He asks once she’s gone.

“About a year. How long have you been with, um…” You trail off, realizing you don’t know the name of his team.

“Vortex,” he supplies. “Going on three years, now.”

Vortex? That’s the best they could come up with?

“Is it yours? Like–are you the founder?” You bring your cup to your mouth to take a sip.

He nods proudly. “Yeah. Landon, Adam, and I graduated from UCLA together and decided to just… go for it.”

You choke on your water. “UCLA?”

He chuckles at your reaction. “I’m sure you went somewhere just as good.”

You laugh. “Uh, no. I got my undergrad at a shitty state school in Minnesota.”

“Well, where are you getting your PhD?”

You hesitate. “I’m not.”

“Oh.”

You have no idea what to say after that.

And clearly neither does he, because the clinking of silverware and quiet murmurs at other tables is all you hear for several moments.

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “So. Minnesota?”

Your shoulders tighten again. “Yup. Grew up there.”

“I’m guessing you chose Oklahoma specifically for chasing, then?” He asks, taking a sip of his drink.

You nod, picking at your nails in your lap under the table. “Not much to chase up there,” you chuckle.

“How’d you get into Storm PAR?” He sets his glass back down carefully. You can hear the unspoken question. How’d you do it without a PhD?

You shrug. “Honestly, I was shocked I even got an interview. But Scott and Javi liked my passion. Said they needed more enthusiasm on the team.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, lips pursed. “Nothing. So, are they making you go back to school at some point?”

You pause for just a second before shrugging. “Not sure. It hasn’t come up.”

He hums. “What’s your role on the team? Like, do you do data entry, or…?”

You narrow your eyes but chuckle, working to keep your tone light. “If I just did data entry, I wouldn’t have been practically inside a tornado yesterday. Um, no, I’m in one of the PAR placement vehicles.”

He raises his eyebrows. “No shit. Which one?”

“Scarecrow,” you say, taking a sip of your water. “With Scott. The point is to develop a 3D scan of the entire area, so we place radars in front of, behind to the left, and behind to the right of each tornado. Scott and I plant behind to the left.”

He nods slowly, seemingly taking in the information. This is starting to feel more like a business meeting than a date. Or maybe an interrogation.

“Sorry, I just–” He cuts himself off, looking up as if choosing his words carefully. “Doesn’t Storm PAR only hire people with PhDs. I mean–they’re, like, the snobbiest professional team out there.”

You blink at him, taking a moment to formulate a nicer response than the first one that comes to mind. “They hired me because I’m good. And we’re not snobby, we’re just serious about our work.”

He looks a little taken aback by the offended undertone in your words. “Oh– No, yeah, for sure–” He gets cut off by the waitress placing your orders down in front of you.

“Um–I need to use the restroom.” You push your chair back as soon as the waitress is gone and stand before he can respond.

Locking the stall door behind you, you clench and unclench your fists a few times, taking a few moments to gather yourself.

After a few deep breaths, you exit the stall and move to the sink–looking at yourself in the mirror to hype yourself up to go back out there.

You really do look good.

And you will not let a man–especially not one who apparently couldn’t come up with a better team name than Vortex–ruin your confidence. So with a final roll of your shoulders, you open the door and head back to the table with a tight smile.

He looks up with a sheepish smile when you sit, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Sorry,” you say briefly, settling into your chair, picking up your fork. “So, what do you do during the off-season?”

- - - -

You manage to get through the rest of dinner without any more comments like that from Jack, already having decided that there won't be a second date.

When you get close to your motel, you ask if he can drop you off at the bar down the street instead.

“Did you want to grab a drink?” He sounds hopeful.

God dammit.

“Oh–um,” you stutter. “My team is there.”

“Oh, cool! I’d love to get to know them better.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

“I was hoping I could just spend some time with them… if that’s okay. Just–after everything yesterday, you know, and–”

“Hey,” he interrupts your rambling with a soft chuckle. “I get it. It’s totally okay. Promise.”

You sigh in relief, shoulders dropping. “Thank you.”

He turns into the lot, pulling into a parking spot. “I had a good time tonight.”

You give him a smile that you hope is convincing. “I did, too.”

He shifts in his seat to face you and your stomach drops.

You feel like you’re watching in slow motion while his hand comes up to cup your cheek as he leans over the center console.

You’re pretty sure you’re not breathing.

You’re frozen in place, not leaning forward to meet him, but unable to lean back to avoid him.

Your wide eyes stay locked on his–which are closed now–watching as he gets closer.

His lips brush yours in a short, almost tentative kiss, which you don’t return.

But it’s like this guy just doesn’t catch the fucking hint.

“I’ll text you later,” he says softly as he pulls back.

“Yeah–yeah, okay. Uh, thanks,” you stumble over your words as you fumble with your phone and the door handle.

You push the door shut behind you, walking off toward the bar entrance before you even hear it slam, eager to get the fuck inside.

The bar isn’t packed as full as it was the other night, but there’s still quite a crowd given the calm weather conditions across the country tomorrow.

You spot some of your teammates standing around the same tall table as last time, along with the Wranglers.

It’s still weird to see them all getting along.

You march through the crowd, straight for them. Before they can even notice you, you scan the drinks available on the table–once again, only beer–and point at a bottle with a trembling finger.

“Whose is that?”

“Scott’s, I think,” Javi says, whirling around as everyone registers your presence.

“Where is he?”

“Bathroom.”

“Cool.” You grab the nearly full bottle and drink as much of it as you can in one breath. You set it back down a little harsher than necessary, wiping your mouth with a grimace. “Why do I keep doing that?”

“Mine this time? Really?”

You spin around to face him and freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sorry,” you squeak out.

He huffs at your wide-eyed expression and waves a hand. “I wasn’t really drinking it anyway.”

“I take it that means the date didn’t go well?” Kate asks gently,

You shake your head firmly, taking another large gulp of the beer before making a disgusted sound. “I’ll be back,” you say, setting the bottle on the table. “I need a drink that doesn’t taste like shit.”

Once you have your drink, you return to the table–squeezing into the tight space between Scott and Kate–where everyone is looking at you expectantly. “So?” Boone urges.

You keep your gaze locked on the glass as you set it down carefully, hesitating. “It just didn’t go well,” you say quietly.

“Did something happen?” Tyler asks, a sharp edge to his tone.

You shake your head, chewing on your lip. “No. He just…” You let out a humorless laugh. “It felt like an interrogation. He kept asking if I had a PhD–how I got hired without one. If I did data collection.” Your fingers tighten around the glass, swallowing hard. “And then he kissed me.”

The table erupts into loud, overlapping protests, but you keep your eyes pointedly fixed on the colorful liquid in front of you.

Away from Kate.

Away from Scott.

But you feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your face.

Kate grabs onto your arm tightly, shaking. “He kissed you?!”

You nod sheepishly.

“After grilling you about your degree?” Dani leans over the table to ask.

You give another small nod, staring into your drink.

“Jesus,” Javi sighs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t wanna say anything in case you actually liked him, but those Vortex guys have been nothing but elitist assholes since they started. Almost like you two used to be,” Tyler says, pointing between Javi and Scott with a smirk on his face. A giggle escapes before you can stop it, which he catches. “Hey, there she is!”

You shake your head, though there’s a small smile on your face now as you take a sip of your drink. “Well, needless to say–there will not be a second date. Or any dates ever again, as far as I’m concerned. This is exactly why I haven’t even tried since moving here.”

And because your stupidly attractive, asshole boss has had your attention.

Boone pouts from where he stands across the table. “Does that mean I don’t have a chance?”

Scott stiffens next to you.

You roll your eyes and chuckle, tossing a balled up napkin at Boone, which he dodges easily. “Careful, Boone. Keep flirting with me and people might start to take you seriously.”

He shoots you a wink, which you laugh off, before the conversation shifts.

You take the opportunity to just listen–to ground yourself in the moment. The overlapping chatter, clinking glasses, music you can feel more than hear–it all reminds you that you’re back in a safe, controlled environment with the people you trust.

The tension drains from your shoulders slowly but surely.

But it’s hard to fully relax when you feel Scott–who’s still stiff as a board–pressed against your side.

- - - -

The next few days are agonizing–personally and professionally.

You send Jack a carefully crafted, Kate-approved text with some bullshit about you’re not really in a place to start a new relationship due to the nature of the job.

He leaves you on read.

On top of that, not being able to chase has everyone on edge–seeing systems produce tornadoes in nearby states that you would’ve normally jumped on, but can’t.

It makes everyone stir crazy.

Then, the vehicles take more time than expected in the body shop, the equipment replacements get delayed, and–once you finally get the parts–the work ends up being way more difficult than expected.

“Just tighten it,” Scott snaps from where he’s standing in the truck bed in front of you, holding Lion’s new anemometer in place while you attempt to secure it.

It’s a job that should have taken two minutes tops. But you’ve had your feet precariously perched on either side of the guard rails for fifteen minutes now, and your legs are starting to cramp.

“I can’t,” you say through gritted teeth for the third time. “It’s the wrong fucking–” You groan, letting the hand that isn’t holding you in place fall to your side as you look down at him. “It’s the wrong size bolt.”

“It’s not the wrong size,” he grumbles.

“I’m sorry–are you the one trying to tighten it?” You snap back.

He rolls his eyes–something he’s been doing more than usual the past few days. “I got the right size.”

“Clearly you didn’t!” You throw your arm up, gesturing with the wrench. “I’m not totally incompetent, you know. I know how to tighten a fucking bolt.” You jump down from the rail, holding the wrench up to him. “I’m done.”

He looks taken aback, making no move to take it from you. “What? This is a two person job.”

“Then get someone else to help.” You gesture at the rest of the team working on the other vehicles nearby. “I’m going to work on Tin Man,” you mutter as you shove the wrench into his hand before hopping out of the bed.

His eyes track you the whole way until he finally snaps out of it and calls Javi over.

- - - -

You thought–hoped–the first real movement after the time off would break the tension that formed between the two of you.

You were wrong.

You manage to make it 20 minutes into the three hour drive to the new motel before breaking the suffocating silence with a loud huff.

“Okay. What?”

Scott glances at you out of the corner of his eye with furrowed brows before turning his attention back to the road. “What are you talking about?”

“Why does it feel like we’re fighting again? I thought we were, like–cool, or whatever.”

“We are cool,” he says with a shrug, but his voice is tighter than usual.

You stare at the side of his face, unimpressed. “You are a horrible liar. You’ve been weird lately.”

He meets your eyes briefly. “I’m not being weird.”

You drop your head back against the seat, groaning. “Yes, you are. It started with the Stillwater tornado. Then we finally got over that, just for it to happen again after Jack asked me out.” You loll your head against the seat to look at him again and find his jaw clenched. “And now you’re mad!”

He sighs deeply. “Not mad.”

You let out your own long exhale, sinking down in your seat. “Okay.”

You pull out your headphones from your bag and he glances over at the movement. “I’m not using the radio.”

“Don’t wanna annoy you even more,” you mumble.

He fully turns his head toward you for several seconds before snapping back toward the road. “Now you’re the one being weird.”

You whip your head toward him, glaring. “No, I’m not.”

“You’ve almost punched me just to control the radio. Now I’m offering to let you have it and you… would rather use your headphones? You’ve made me stay completely silent for an hour before just so you could sing along.”

You shrug, fiddling with them in your lap. “I haven’t been listening to much of the stuff we have in common.”

He scoffs. “So? That’s never stopped you before.”

You keep your focus on your lap, jaw tightening. “Well maybe I just don’t feel like it right now!”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’m not trying to fight with you. You realize that, right?”

You huff. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong–because something obviously is. Is this about Stillwater again–”

You groan loudly and squeeze your eyes shut. “No, it’s not about fucking Stillwater.”

“Then what? Because you’ve been pissy since your date.”

This time, you don’t miss the way his face twists at the word ‘date.’

“What was that face?”

He spares you a quick, confused glance. “What face?”

“You made a face when you said ‘date.’ You’ve been off since the night in the bar–when he asked me out.” You say it slowly, like you’re figuring out missing pieces to a puzzle.

He stays carefully silent.

“Are you mad that I– I fraternized with the competition, or something?” You ask incredulously.

He keeps his eyes on the road ahead, jaw ticking. “Nope.”

“You are so fucking irritating,” you say with a humorless laugh. “Whatever, man.”

You pull your headphones over your ears and turn on the music full volume. You sink back down in the seat, arms crossed over your chest and eyes closed.

Maybe you’ll get lucky.

Maybe he’ll leave you alone for the rest of the drive.

Maybe when you get to the hotel you won’t have to speak to him.

Maybe you’ll both magically be fine by tomorrow’s chase.

Spoiler alert: You are not lucky.

No–you might actually be the most unlucky you have ever been.

Because suddenly there’s a bang! followed immediately by the car’s warning system screaming about a flat tire.

You take your headphones off, watching as he pulls over into the shoulder. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glares at you. “How could I fuck with you about a flat tire?”

“I don’t know!” You sit up straighter, looking at the rapidly deflating back tire in the side mirror. “Oh, my god, this is a nightmare,” you say under your breath, throwing your door open at the same time he does.

You kneel in front of the tire as he rounds the vehicle and joins you on the ground.

“Jesus,” he mutters, running his fingers along the large gash in the rubber.

You look up to see the rest of your team pulled over just ahead, now making their way over. Scott stands to meet them, while you stay put for another moment, staring at the tire like it personally wronged you.

Because it did.

You push off the ground with a grunt, joining the others with your hands on your hips. “We have a donut. We can use that to get to a shop, right?”

“The nearest shop is an hour away,” Javi breathes out as he looks at his phone, running a hand through his hair.

“An hour?!” You repeat, horrified. “Fucking Oklahoma…”

Scott drags a hand down his face, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll stay here with the car. Javi can go get a tire and bring it back, the rest of you can keep going to the motel–Kate and Sunny can just hop in Tin Man.”

You spin to face him, eyebrows drawn together. “Why would you stay here?”

“I’m not just gonna leave thousands of dollars worth of equipment on the side of the road unattended,” he says in a tone that sounds a lot like ‘duh.’

“Let me sit with it, then,” you say with a shrug, not even really sure why.

He scoffs. “No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What, because you don’t trust me?”

He rolls his eyes, looking up at the clear blue sky for a moment. “Because I’m not going to let you sit on the side of the road for over two hours by yourself, idiot.”

“Well what if I want to?” You challenge. “Idiot.”

He stares at you for a few moments, teeth clenched so tightly you think his jaw might break. “Fine.” He gestures at Scarecrow behind you. “Be my guest.”

You shoot him a tight, closed smile before making your way back to the car, sliding back into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.

He glances over his shoulder when you slam the door, his expression tightening before turning back to Javi. Kate looks between him and the car a few times before finally walking toward you.

She pulls open your door. “What the hell was that?”

You huff. “I called him out for being weird, he said I was being weird, we ignored each other–then bam. Flat tire.”

She blinks at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

You reel back. “How am I ridiculous? He’s the one with a stick up his ass for no reason!”

She looks up at the sky for a moment like it’ll grant her patience. “Why are you insisting on staying here?”

You shrug. “I want alone time.”

“Bitch,” she says flatly, rolling her eyes.

Your eyes widen. “Hey!”

She shoots you an unimpressed glare. “You want to sit in a vehicle you can’t drive on the side of the road in rural Oklahoma for over two hours… for alone time?”

You nod once, sharp and stubborn.

She scoffs. “You are so full of shit.”

“Kate!”

“Oh, come on! You know he won’t leave you here by yourself.” She glances around to make sure nobody is within earshot, then she leans further into the car, lowering her voice. “What’s this really about?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “He’s been weird since Jack asked me out.”

She shrugs. “He’s always weird.”

“No–” You sigh. “Like, really weird. It’s like he’s trying to start arguments but won’t engage in them.”

She tilts her head. “About the date?”

“Sometimes. That night–when he asked me out–Scott was saying he was shocked I said yes because Jack wasn’t my ‘type.’ I don’t even have a type! Then he kept asking if I was gonna say yes. And now he’s just been…” You trail off.

“Weird?” She supplies with raised eyebrows.

“Yes!” You bury your face in your hands. “It sounds dumb, but I thought we were finally getting somewhere.”

She stares at you for a moment before sighing. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it because neither of you are being smart enough to do it yourselves. He’s jealous.”

You snap your head up, a loud laugh escaping before you can stop it. “Yeah, okay.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. Through the windshield, you see Javi walking back toward Lion and Scott making his way back to Scarecrow.

You blindly smack her arm, trying to tell her to shut up.

The driver’s side door opens and your head whips toward him. “Aren’t you going with Javi?”

His narrowed eyes flick between you–panicked–and Kate–calm with a smug smile–a couple times before answering. “No.”

“What? Why?”

He ignores your question, tilting his chin up, talking to Kate. “They’re ready to get going to the motel.”

She shoots you a look before walking off with a ‘thanks.’

He slides into the driver’s seat and shuts the door behind him.

You continue to stare at him.

After a few seconds of tense silence, you break. “Are you going to answer my question, or…?”

He shrugs. “Javi didn’t like the idea of either of us sitting here alone.”

“Okay, well I was about to have an existential crisis, so can we go back to the original plan?”

He looks at you with his eyebrows drawn together. “What?”

You drop your head back against the seat and groan, burying your face in your hands. “You need to get your hearing checked.”

“I can hear you just fine,” he grumbles.

“Then stop asking ‘what?’” You remove your hands to glare at him and sigh when you see the rest of the team pulling away up ahead. “Congrats, now you’re stuck with me for at least two hours. Plus the two-ish hours to get to the motel.”

He rolls his eyes. “Believe it or not, I can do math.”

“Some of your forecasts would beg to differ.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “We gonna do this the whole time?”

You shrug and give a noncommittal hum, shifting to get comfy in the seat as you scroll through your phone.

You leave your headphones off–curious to see if he’ll say anything if you don’t first.

You regret it almost immediately.

The silence feels all-consuming.

Soon enough you start to bounce your leg while he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, staring broodily out the windshield.

You have to physically bite your tongue multiple times to stop yourself from saying anything–refusing to be the one to break the silence like every time before.

But then you get left with your thoughts–so overwhelming you’re only scrolling on your phone for the motion, not able to take in anything you’re reading.

No matter how many times you try to think about something else, your mind keeps circling back to what Kate said.

He’s not actually jealous.

Right?

No. He’s just mad about Jack because he’s technically professional competition.

But Javi doesn’t have a problem with it…

But Scott and Javi are very different people. Scott is way easier to piss off.

But if it were a concern to the company, Javi would be upset too…

Okay, maybe he’s just mad because it was unprofessional.

Even though he’s had no problem trying to set Javi up with someone…

“I need air,” you say suddenly, shoving the door open and slamming it shut behind you.

You take a deep breath of fresh air, far too aware he can still see you.

You might throw up.

Your eyes flit around rapidly, looking for somewhere to escape to, but it’s just fucking cornfields.

This state is so stupid.

The car door slamming shut behind you snaps you out of your frantic searching.

You don’t turn to face him–you don’t think you can.

“So,” he says casually as he slowly stops next to you, arms folded over his chest. He’s clearly oblivious to your internal struggle. “You planning on just watching the corn for the next two hours, or…?”

“Kate said you’re jealous,” you blurt out.

Silence.

Your eyes immediately widen and you slap a hand over your mouth.

What the fuck?!

Why would you say that?!

Before you can second guess the action, your head whips toward him.

He’s frozen.

You don’t even think he’s breathing.

You really might throw up.

“I don’t– I don’t know why I said that,” you stutter, mortified. “That was stupid. That was so dumb. Let’s all point and laugh at Sunny!” You try to defuse the tension with nervous humor, but he stays completely still.

Holy shit, he’s broken.

You stare at him for what feels like hours, waiting for anything.

Nothing.

“Scott, I am begging you to start screaming at me right now.”

He still doesn’t move.

Should you call 9-1-1?

“Okay, so, obviously I fucked up, but–”

“Stop talking,” he finally says, interrupting your rambling.

Your mouth snaps shut with an audible clack.

He doesn’t say anything for a long, painful moment. You open your mouth to fill the silence again, but he holds a hand up, stopping you in your tracks.

“What exactly did she say?” He finally asks as he turns his head to look at you.

“I– nothing. Seriously, it was so stupid. I don’t even know why I said anything–”

He says your name so sharply you can almost feel it. “What,” he pauses for emphasis, “did she say?”

You swallow roughly, fiddling with your hands. “I just told her about how things have felt off since Jack asked me out and she… said you were jealous,” you mutter, staring intensely at a rock near the toe of your shoe.

He hums at that, and you wait for him to say something.

When he doesn’t, your mouth once again moves before your brain can catch up.

“Are you?”

You wince.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He huffs, dropping his arms, shoving his hands into his back pockets. “What answer are you hoping for?”

You turn to him with your eyebrows drawn together. “You can’t just– just flip this around on me.”

He shrugs one shoulder, looking back out at the corn. “I’m just curious.”

“Why are you being so calm right now?” You ask him incredulously–angrily.

He looks at you, raising his eyebrows. “That’s not an answer to my question.”

“You’re being a hypocrite! I asked first! Are you jealous?”

You’re aware you sound childish, but can’t find it in yourself to care.

He’s being infuriating.

He releases a long sigh, turning back to the corn. “I think Kate talks too much,” he mutters.

You glare at the side of his face, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not what I asked.”

“I still stand by it.”

“Just say no,” you practically plead. “If the answer is no, then just fucking say it!”

He looks up as he takes a deep inhale through his nose. For a few moments he just stares at the partly cloudy sky and you wonder if he’s seriously avoiding the conversation by attempting to analyze the weather. “Why are you so hung up on it?”

You scoff, dropping your arms and shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m done.”

You turn to go back to the car, but his hand wrapping around your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“Let go,” you demand, refusing to turn and look at him.

His grip doesn’t loosen.

You turn halfway to tell him off, but the words die in your throat when you see his face.

He looks… scared?

“Yes,” he says, voice rough.

Your face twists in confusion. “Yes… what?”

He sighs and clenches his jaw. “You know what.”

A laugh bubbles up and slips out before you can stop it. “Yeah, okay.”

You shake your head, trying to rip your arm away as you turn from him again, but his grip tightens. “I’m serious.”

You pause.

Oh.

Oh.

That asshole!

You whip around to fully face him, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. “You let me go on that date!”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Wha–”

“No!” You interrupt, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You let me go on that horrible date!”

He drops your wrist, holding his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me telling you not to go.”

“Oh,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “So, what, you decided to be petty about it and hope I’d catch on?”

He looks taken aback by your sudden confident accusations. “That’s not wh–”

“Yes it is!” You cut in again.

“What was I supposed to do?” He finally snaps. “I mean–” He stops himself with a humorless laugh, scrubbing a hand over his jaw before starting again. “Do you seriously think you would’ve taken me actually telling you not to go well? I said I was shocked you said yes and you went out with him just to prove a point!”

That feels like information overload. Like he did consider telling you not to.

But he didn’t.

“I went out with him because I was trying–” You cut yourself off, realizing what you just almost accidentally revealed. You take a deep breath, mentally resetting. “I hadn’t been on a date in over a year.”

“I’m aware,” he says flatly. “Finish your sentence.”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the way your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. “I don’t even know what I was going to say.”

He nods his head at where you’re picking your nails–which you hadn’t even realized you were doing. “You only do that when you’re anxious. You’re lying.”

“I’m always anxious,” you say immediately, defensively.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m aware of that, too. But your thumb is bleeding.”

“Maybe because you’re backing me into a fucking corner,” you spit, but it’s far less sharp than you intended it to be.

He takes a half step forward, which you immediately react to by taking a step back.

He sighs, taking his hat off briefly to run a hand through his curls before putting it back in place. “Okay–we’re getting nowhere. I was jealous, I didn’t say anything because it would be inappropriate, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You blink at him, replaying every interaction you’ve ever had in your head. “You. Are so. Stupid!”

He throws his hands up in defeat. “Okay, I give up.” This time, he turns to go back to the car, but you stop him.

“Wait–” When he turns to face you again, you hum, shifting uncomfortably. It takes a few more seconds to build up courage before you finally continue. “I've had a– a crush on you since day one. But you’ve been a total dick, so obviously I never thought you felt the same way!”

Now it’s his turn to blink dumbly at you.

His mouth opens. Closes.

“Well that’s just fucking stupid,” he finally says.

“Tell me about it!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up.

He works to keep the small smile pulling at his lips suppressed, but ultimately fails.

“I went to MIT,” he breathes out. “I have a PhD, my own company–”

“No need to brag.”

“–and I couldn’t even tell you felt that way,” he finishes, ignoring your quip.

“In your defense, you made it really easy for me to forget how hot you are with how frequently you made me want to punch you in the face,” you say with a shrug.

The small smile turns into a shit-eating grin. “You think I’m hot?”

“Right now is one of those moments, Scott,” you warn.

He takes a step closer, and this time, you don’t back up. “So… what now?”

You look at him incredulously. “Fuck if I know! You’re the one with the PhD.”

“Believe it or not, MIT didn’t offer classes on what to do after accidentally confessing your feelings for your employee,” he deadpans.

“Or your–” Your eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He looks bewildered by the sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“I’m your employee!”

“Yes,” he says slowly. “Have been for the past year. Are you just realizing, or…?”

You roll your eyes, but the internal panic continues to grow. “Obviously not, smartass. But– there’s, like, rules, right? I like my job!”

His eyes soften and he takes another step forward–close enough that you could easily reach forward and close the distance. “Hey. You’re not going to lose your job.”

“I might!” You bring your hand up to your mouth, chewing on your nails. “Oh, this is bad. Obviously we have to just forget this happened,” you say around your finger.

“Okay,” he says calmly, gently prying your hand away from your mouth. “Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your job. It’s just me and Javi. I’ll sit down with him, we’ll figure things out–do this the right way.”

You look up to meet his eyes, narrowing your own at him. “I don’t care how hot you are–I refuse to let it affect my job. So you better be serious.”

He tilts his chin down to maintain eye contact better. “Well, I don’t care how hot you are–I also refuse to let it affect the job. So I am very serious.”

The tension in your shoulders loosens and you nod once. “Good.”

He nods back, giving the wrist he’s still holding a slight squeeze. “Good.”

You continue to silently stare at each other for a few moments before your mouth twitches. “So… you think I’m hot?”

He shakes his head, laughing softly. “You’re so annoying.”

He gently tugs your wrist, making you stumble. His free hand flies to your hip to steady you and your breath hitches.

You have to tilt your head back to keep your eyes on his face. “This feels like a very compromising position,” you breathe out after your mouth remembers how to form words.

He swivels his head around dramatically and hums. “Funny, I don’t see anyone around to care.”

You glare at him, trying not to show how fast your heart is racing. “Ha ha,” you say flatly.

“You’re being very cocky for someone whose heart rate is, like, 150.” He smirks as he squeezes again, running his thumb pointedly along the inside of your wrist.

“Leftover adrenaline from the flat tire,” you lie with a shrug.

“Right,” he says, nodding with narrowed eyes, obviously not falling for your bullshit.

He lets go of your wrist, leaving your arm just hanging awkwardly between you. He slowly brings his hand up to cup your cheek and you stiffen.

“I’d love to kiss you right now,” he starts, voice rougher now, “but we can wait until I talk to Javi, if you want.”

You can’t choose a coherent response–thoughts jumbling together indiscernibly. “I–” You shake your head at the immediate stutter.

He starts to withdraw his hand, but your arm hanging awkwardly between you moves first.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, stopping him.

“Getting some mixed signals here,” he says. Not rude–just clear.

“I–” You try before the words get stuck again. You take a deep breath through your nose, pursing your lips. “I want you to kiss me,” you decide with a single sharp nod.

“Are you sure?”

You nod again. “Yes. Very sure. Also very nervous. It’s been a long time–which you already know–so I might be bad, so I’m sor–”

His lips on your own cut you off–tentative, but intentional.

Your eyes remain wide open for a beat, brain rebooting as you process that he’s actually kissing you.

Then instinct takes over.

Your eyes flutter shut and you fist the front of his shirt in both hands as you kiss him back.

It’s clumsy at first–noses bumping and lips slotting together awkwardly.

But it doesn’t take long to find a comfortable rhythm, and by the time you pull away, you’re both breathing heavily.

You slowly open your eyes to find him already looking at you–his blue irises almost completely taken over by blown pupils.

“Yeah, that was awful,” he says dryly, face completely neutral.

You blink.

Your stomach drops and you open and close your mouth once before you notice the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.

You click your tongue and shove his chest. “Asshole!”

But you’re laughing when you both make your way back to the car.

The next two hours fly by, and soon enough, Javi is pulling up with the new tire.

You both meet him outside and he stops in his tracks.

“Something is different.”

It takes work to keep your face neutral.

“Nothing is different,” Scott says, feigning normalcy easily.

Javi narrows his eyes and looks between the two of you multiple times.

You both stay completely silent, standing five feet apart–Scott with his arms crossed over his chest, you with your hands in your pockets as you rock on the heels of your feet.

You refuse to look at either of them.

Just when you think he’s going to give up, Javi gasps and points an accusing finger. “It happened!”

Your eyes widen. “What happened?” You ask, voice higher than usual.

“It!” He exclaims, gesturing wildly between you both. “Oh, my god, I win!”

Scott’s face twists in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I said you guys would break and confess before the end of the season during a high-stress event!” He looks ecstatic as he steps between you.

“Are you– Are you talking about a fucking bet?” You ask incredulously.

He nods eagerly, wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders, pulling you in tightly. “You just won me so much money.”

“You were betting on us?” You ask again, shoving his arm off at the same time Scott does.

“Oh, not just me,” he says with a chuckle. “The whole team. And the Wranglers.”

You finally look at Scott, who’s glaring murderously at Javi.

“I’m going to kill you,” he tells him, which Javi laughs off.

“I’ll split the winnings with both of you if you don’t,” he offers, wiggling his eyebrows.

Scott’s gaze flicks to meet yours. You look at each other for a few moments, having a silent conversation.

“...Deal,” you both say with a nod.

a/n: this is my first fic ever and i'm both very excited and terrified to post it! reader's backstory is a little more like an oc to set up the angst/age gap aspect, but i tried to keep that minimal

divider credits to @pixopix!!

Scott Miller is a Grade A asshole. 

This isn’t news to anybody, least of all you. When you first started at StormPAR a year ago–fresh out of undergrad and all bright eyed and eager–you only needed one glance from him to realize he was not somebody to piss off. Yet, somehow, you always unintentionally seemed to. 

You have a different opinion on a storm’s predicted path? Did you even get your degree? You need to stop to pee after hours of nonstop driving? I don’t pay you to waste our time. You briefly mention how the stiff motel mattress has your back aching? Feel free to go back to Montana and stop subjecting us to your whining. 

You’re not even from Montana.

But despite his gruffness and take-no-bullshit attitude, you just… can’t help but be drawn to him. 

It’s unfortunate, really. You have a shitty dating history and an even shittier crush history. All people who you were sure you could ‘fix.’

Spoiler alert: You haven’t been able to yet.

- - - -

Today is exciting. There’s an insane tornado outbreak across the midwest and southern states that’s been getting your team incredible data, plus Javi’s old friend from college is flying in from New York. Even just for a week, you finally won’t be the only girl on the team. There is simply too much testosterone around you at any given moment. 

When you see Javi’s truck pull into the parking lot of the gas station you’re at with the rest of the team, along with many others, you’re practically vibrating with excitement. Everything he’s told you all about his friend, Kate, so far makes you think you’ll get along really well. Javi even said so himself. Told you you remind him of her when they were in undergrad. 

When they step out of the truck and Javi gathers the team to start introductions, all of the guys have straight, almost bored expressions on their faces. Not you, though. You have to actively suppress a wide smile, not wanting to look insane but too excited to just stand there nonchalantly. 

The only change in their expressions happens when Javi tells Kate, “And you will never work with a more talented team than this one.” Then they all turn into smug bastards, naturally. “Look, we got PhDs from NASA, FEMA, NOAA, NWS.” He points out who has each degree as he lists them, and you can’t help but shrink just a little. You’re the only team member who doesn’t have a PhD, which you’re sure is obvious given the fact you’re only 23.

“Oh, you’ve got the whole alphabet,” Kate says flatly, which you smirk at. 

“Only the best! Except for Scott, my partner here,” Javi continues, moving to stand next to where Scott is at the edge of the group with his stupid sunglasses and stupid gum. “He went to MIT instead of Muskogee State. But, uh, he makes up for it with his beautiful, amazing personality.” Javi slaps a hand on Scott’s shoulder and Scott flashes Kate a toothy smile that he immediately drops.

You can’t help but snort at both the sarcasm from Javi and the smile from Scott, which causes all heads to turn to you. “Sorry, sorry, just…” You wave dismissively. “Nevermind.”

“And this,” Javi says with a smirk, moving to stand next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug, “is the baby of our team, Sunny.” You wave at her, a little sheepish now that all the attention is on you. “She got her bachelor’s in Minnesota and moved here last year. We were so impressed by her enthusiasm and the fact that she basically taught herself an entire graduate program worth of knowledge that we made an exception to our rule of only hiring people with a PhD. Isn’t that right, Scott?”

Scott’s focus is back on the tablet in his hands and he just makes a sort of grunt in response. It’s no secret that Scott didn’t want to hire you. He continues to remind everybody of that fact every time you make any sort of mistake. But Javi fought for you, able to see how truly passionate you are about meteorology and how desperately you wanted this. So he pushed and pushed and finally Scott caved, but said you were Javi’s responsibility, not his. 

Which came back to bite him in the ass when Javi assigned you to Scarecrow with Scott. 

“Well, Kate’s only giving us a week, but while we have her, ooh! It’s gonna be the wildest tornado week you’ve ever seen, fellas,” Javi says with a chuckle, causing a few of the other guys to laugh as well.

“Yeah, and everybody with a $10 weather app knows it. We got to stay ahead of this circus,” Scott says, visibly annoyed. 

The sound of loud music and honking has you all looking to where a familiar large red truck is pulling into the parking lot, followed by a blue truck and an RV. You roll your eyes, but not for the same reason as the others on your team. When you see Boone hanging out the window with his phone in his hand as they continue to drive toward your group, you duck your head, covering the majority of your face with your hand on your forehead.

“Hey, StormPAR. We’re live on YouTube, say something.”

“Blow me, Boone,” Andy calls out from next to you, immediately prompting you to smack his arm with your free hand.

“Don’t engage, don’t engage.” Scott is quick to attempt to defuse but always seems to have no problem picking fights the second there’s no camera. Funny.

“Hey, smile, man. Science is fun, right?” Boone calls out as the truck drives away.

“Who are they?” Kate asks.

“Chasers out of Arkansas,” Javi explains.

“Hillbillies with a YouTube channel.” The comment earns Scott a glare from you.

You all watch on as Tyler Owens climbs out of his signature red truck with his sunglasses, cowboy hat, and blinding smile, looking at the crowd that’s gathered around his vehicle. This isn’t an uncommon experience. Tyler and his team have developed a very impressive, and very dedicated, fan base. 

“And if you feel it…”

“Chase it!” The crowd shouts.

“I said, if you feel it…”

“Chase it!”

“Chase it!” Peter shouts with his hands cupped around his mouth, finishing Tyler’s call and response. Every head in the vicinity whips towards him, to which he sheepishly drops his hands. Tyler looks over at your team, very obviously noticing the new face. It’s a shock for you, seeing a new face climb out of his truck as well. A man who doesn’t really seem to want to be there.

“That’s Tyler Owens,” Javi explains to Kate. “He calls himself a Tornado Wrangler.” “What does that even mean?”

Dani steps out of the RV then, t-shirts in hand, loudly asking the ‘tornado nerds’ surrounding them if they’d like to buy one. “This means our world is going to shit.”

You very pointedly do not react or make a comment at Javi’s words. You don’t notice the questioning glance that Scott throws your way when you don’t make a comment about being nice like usual. You do, however, notice the way Tyler tips his hat at Kate and make a mental note to become friends with her sooner rather than later so you can discuss that.

“All right, let’s get ahead of this bunch. Yeah, let me see this.” Javi takes the tablet that Scott’s holding and hands it to Kate. “All right, Kate. Which storm should we chase?”

You’re standing in a small cluster with the two of them and Scott, the rest of the team not paying attention. After a moment of silence from Kate, Scott says, “There’s a nice-looking cell over to the east.” 

His tone is… not nearly as biting as you’d expect. It doesn’t sound like he’s trying to prove that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It just sounds like professional input.

Dickhead.

Kate starts to walk away with the tablet without a response, and the rest of the team starts to follow. You don’t move, though, because you’re not stupid. She’s obviously not trying to lead anybody anywhere, she’s just trying to get some space to think. And, with what Javi’s told you all about why she stopped chasing in the first place? She’s probably terrified to be here. Crowding her won’t help, idiots. 

Your thoughts are supported when she slows and pauses when she sees everyone following her and Javi. There seems to be a hushed conversation between them where she looks visibly uncomfortable before he steps in. “All right, all right, guys, let’s go. Everybody get their last bathroom break in.”

“All right, be quick fellas. We’re on the clock. Five minutes, then we’re loading up.” Scott is quick to take the lead again. It’d be kind of cute how eager he is if he weren’t completely insufferable. 

On the way into the gas station, Lily, Dani, Boone, and Dexter are behind you all. Lily is already starting the teasing and you can’t help but let out a small giggle. The rest of your team may have a rivalry with them, but you get along with them really well. They’re some of the only people you’ve met that you’d consider actual friends since moving. You slow your pace to walk with them instead. “Okay, uniforms. Wrinkle-free shirts. Crisp hats. Good”

“Ah, looks like they’re going to church, man. I like it, right?” Boone chuckles and you bite your lip to stop a loud laugh from escaping. 

“Looking good. Looking good,” Dani adds. When you guys get to the door and Andy doesn’t hold it open for you all, she continues sarcastically. “Hey, man, you’re not gonna hold the door? Come on, man, too heavy?”

“StormPAR. StormPAR,” Dexter says in a mocking tone as you guys enter the gas station. You’re not able to stop the laughter this time, which earns you a very annoyed glare from multiple members on your team, but you don’t even care. It’s not your fault the Wranglers have welcomed you better than most of your own team has. 

“You think I look like I’m going to church?” You ask Boone with a dramatic pout. You’re wearing the same blue polo as everyone else, minus Scott and Javi, but absolutely refuse to wear the khakis that the men wear. Instead, you usually pair it with jeans or cargo pants. Today, it’s black cargo pants. 

“Oh, no, Sunny, you look beautiful,” he assures with a charming smile. The man’s a flirt, even unintentionally. 

“Thank you, thank you,” you giggle. You leave Boone and Dexter in the candy aisle, making your way to the bathroom with Dani and Lily. 

One perk about being in a male dominated field is that there’s almost never a line for the women’s bathroom. Like right now, there’s so many people inside the small gas station it makes you feel slightly claustrophobic. The line for the men’s bathroom wraps around the corner and goes partially down an aisle. But you, Lily, and Dani? You get to pee with no wait. Take that, suckers. 

Once you’re finished up in the bathroom, the three of you go out to buy snacks and drinks for the chase. It’s not going to be a very far drive, but you’ve learned the hard way that it’s better to be overprepared. So you buy a few snacks and your favorite flavor energy drink, the one you drink every single day, and head back out to join your team with a “drive safe!” to the Wranglers. 

You see Scott and Javi in the parking lot, arms crossed, intently watching Kate where she stands a short distance away in the grass, conversing with Tyler and the man you don’t recognize. You slow to a stop next to Javi. “Who’s that guy?”

“No idea.”

You just hum, watching the interaction. Kate turns to head back toward you guys when Tyler says something else to her. She turns back around, responding with something you’re guessing is sarcastic by the arm she throws out with it, the smirk she’s still wearing when she makes her way back to you guys, and Tyler’s face that clearly says he didn’t expect whatever it was. 

“Talk to us,” Javi says as she hands him back the tablet. 

“We want the cells to the west.” You nod immediately at her confident assessment. That’s what you’ve been arguing all day.

“Uh, the one to the east has much better numbers,” Scott argues, still in that tone. The one that sounds almost nice. But Scott Miller is not nice, so you have no fucking idea where he learned to make it sound like he is.

“Mm, conditions don’t feel right. Cap is too strong. It’ll never break.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” You gesture at her, looking at Scott, unimpressed. He returns your look with his own, rolling his lips inward for a moment. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize we were asking you,” Scott says your name mockingly, tilting his head. You glare at him. 

Kate draws her eyebrows together, looking between you both, mouth open as if she’s about to ask a question. When you notice, you explain, “My name isn’t actually Sunny, that’s just what most people call me here. Javi started it, said I was too smiley and nice to not have a matching name.”

“Which is funny, considering you’re not that nice,” Scott says, head still annoyingly tilted.

“I am, just not to you,” you say in an exaggeratedly bright tone, shooting him a toothy smile before dropping it.

“Okay, okay, kids. Play nice,” Javi chastises both of you. He turns to Scott, handing him the tablet. “You heard them. Let’s move.”

Scott takes the tablet with a sharp nod and a smile at Kate as she walks past him with Javi, joining the rest of the team as they get into their vehicles. You stay put, watching his reaction silently. There is no fucking way the same guy who has told you multiple time to let the adults work when discussing a chase just smiled at the new girl when she disagreed with his opinion. 

But when she’s far enough away, he mumbles, “Guess we’re listening to dandelions now.” And though you have no clue what the hell that means, you can’t help but feel a little better. 

- - - -

Neither of you speak for the first 15 minutes of the drive, which is pretty typical. He avoids speaking to you because he has a stick up his ass 24/7, and you avoid speaking to him for the exact same reason. The only sound is the divorced dad rock he loves to play coming through the car’s stereo quietly. You were excited initially to find out you share a similar music taste, but now it’s just irritating because some of your favorite songs are associated with him.

The first words are spoken by him. You lean down to grab the gum you bought at the gas station out of the plastic bag at your feet. You measure out a strip, cut it off, shove it in your mouth, and are halfway leaned over to put it back in the bag when you can see him literally do a double take out of the corner of your eye. “What is that?”

“What is what?”

“That.” He points at the gum in your hand.

“Gum?”

“That is not gum.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Are you seriously chewing Hubba Bubba in my car?”

That makes you straighten up and turn to him. “Um, our car.”

He scoffs and glances at you briefly before turning his focus back to the road. “My car.”

“Whose phone automatically connects to the CarPlay first?”

“You disconnected mine so that would happen! That’s cheating!” Oh, he’s so easy to ragebait.

You shrug. “Still. But seriously, it’s just gum, I don’t get what your problem is.”

“It’s an abomination, is what it is.”

“Just because you’re mean and angry doesn’t mean your gum has to be. I mean, cinnamon? Seriously?”

“Cinnamon does not taste ‘mean and angry.’”

You hum and cross your arms, turning your head to look out the window at the dark clouds and lightning in the distance. Thank god–you’re close to the storm. Unless something goes wrong, the tension in the car tends to be more tolerable after a chase. “I beg to differ.”

There’s a pause. Brief, but it’s there. “You are truly insufferable.” You turn to face him. “Aw, then I guess that makes two of us!” You pitch your voice higher and shrug your shoulders when you say it before turning back to the window with a scowl. 

You don’t have to sit in broody silence for long, thankfully. Not long after, Javi’s truck at the front of the caravan takes a right down a dirt road and you get prepared for placing the PAR. The bag at your feet gets tossed into the back, clearing your space in the passenger seat for quick and easy exit and reentry. Then, you make sure your boots are laced tightly, your safety glasses are within reach, and the tablet in your lap has the radar pulled up. 

There’s a fork in the road and Javi’s voice comes through your earpieces, directing you guys to take the left along with Tin Man. You look out your window to see the dark clouds rotating and your stomach starts to twist in the familiar combination of anxiety and excitement. 

There’s another fork and you watch as Tin Man behind you turns sharply to take the right. You and Scott continue ahead, getting into position to be on the back left of the funnel that’s slowly forming. 

You bring a hand up and start to chew on your fingernails, which are already practically nonexistent. Scott watches you out of the corner of his eye, but says nothing. You watch for a few more seconds before it touches down, and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“There it is,” Scott breathes, a hint of awe in his voice. This is your favorite part. When you both forget about the arguing and can appreciate the simultaneous beauty and terror in front of you.

As Scott continues to drive forward, you focus on the radar and hold the button on your earpiece. “Lion, this is Scarecrow. Tornado is moving steady at one-seven miles per hour.” You take your finger off the button and turn to Scott, smug as can be, just as the rain and hail start pounding against the windshield. “Huh. Look at that. Kate and I were right.” “All right, who asked you?” His gaze is focused on the road in front of him, wincing as the large hail bounces off the hood. 

You lean forward in your seat to get closer to the windshield, stretching out your seatbelt. “Holy shit! That hail is huge!”

Scott immediately throws an arm across your chest and pushes you back into your seat. “Hey, dumbass! If that windshield were to break from that huge hail, you’d be dead.” He shakes his head, muttering under his breath, but you can’t even try to decipher what he’s saying. It’s like the second he touched you, your brain just shut off. 

Oh fuck.

That is not good.

You’re quickly brought back to yourself after a particularly bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a clap of thunder that shakes the car even as you drive. He didn’t seem to notice your moment, thank god, so you quickly shake your head as if to force the thoughts out. 

When Tin Man announces over the earpieces that they’re approaching their position, you know you’re getting close, too. So you quickly put on your safety glasses and brace your hand on the door, ready to move quickly. As Scott gets the vehicle into position, you announce it into the earpiece and are out before it’s even fully in park, opening the trunk. The wind whips your hair into your face and you mentally curse yourself for not tying it up. Scott’s there a second later, grabbing one side of the PAR, helping you lift it. Once it’s out, he shouts over the howling wind and pouring rain to go, and you both move in perfect sync to set it in position and lock it in place. 

Once it’s locked, Scott moves to the back of the machine to power it on and you move to shut the trunk, the same as always. Once it’s active, he relays that to the rest of the team. As soon as Wizard confirms they’re receiving data, you both jump back into the vehicle and Scott peels out to get you guys to a safe spot slightly further away. 

You’re both still catching your breath when Javi announces that Lion is trying to find a closer spot and you feel a pit in your stomach for reasons you’re not even sure of. You wait for what you’re sure is too long. Long enough that the adrenaline is starting to wear off and you can feel the stinging across your body from the hail. You’ve escalated to bouncing your leg so quickly the car shakes and biting the skin on your fingers so badly that one of them starts to bleed.

“Will you stop that?” It’s not nearly as sharp as you’re expecting. Something about that makes your leg still immediately.

“Sorry.”

A silence that’s probably only 30 seconds long but feels like an hour stretches between you, but is broken by Scott’s phone ringing through the car radio. You sigh in relief when you see it’s Javi and Scott answers it immediately. The relief is short lived, though, when Javi explains that he wasn’t able to get into position and Scott gets pissed. He tries to blame Kate, asks if she’s the reason, but Javi insists that it was nobody’s fault. The call is short, but Scott is practically fuming by the time it ends.

So much for more tolerable tension on the way back.

- - - -

Most of the team decides to just call it a night when you get to the motel seeing as it’s already around 9. You almost do too, physically and mentally exhausted, but among the groups hanging out in the parking lot, you spot the Wranglers and decide that you probably shouldn’t spend the night wallowing alone in your room. 

You get changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and make your way back downstairs. When Dani notices the exhaustion on your face, she immediately opens her arms, which you gratefully let yourself collapse into. You wrap your arms around her waist loosely and let her hold up most of your weight.

Tyler looks down at you both from where he’s in the bed of the truck with Boone trying to fix a broken piece on top of the bars. “You all right, Sunny?”

You just groan dramatically into Dani’s shoulder before straightening up to lean against the side of the truck, which earns a small chuckle from them all. It’s then that you notice the man you didn’t recognize earlier is sitting with them. “Oh, sorry! Um, I’m with StormPAR. Uh, everyone calls me Sunny. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

The man seems shocked for a moment that you’re speaking to him, but recovers quickly. He stands, holding a hand out to you. “No, I don’t believe we have. I’m Ben. I’m a reporter doing a piece on American storm chasing. I flew in from London yesterday.”

You step forward to shake his hand with a polite smile on your face. “Nice to meet you, Ben. You chose an excellent team to ride with.” You bump Dani’s shoulder with your own, shooting her a small smile, which she returns.

Ben chuckles, gaze flitting between you and the others. “I’m sorry, I thought your two teams didn’t get along.” You groan and roll your eyes. “They don’t. Apparently I’m the only one on my team with any sense of camaraderie.”

“Ah, I see,” He visibly hesitates, clearly deciding whether or not to push. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Sunny.”

“You as well, Ben.”

You decline a beer that Boone offers, opting for a water bottle instead. The conversation flows easily with them, which you appreciate. There’s not much of that with your own team. 

A few minutes later, Dani and Boone switch spots so Dani’s helping Tyler on top of the truck. When Boone jumps back down to the ground, he joins you in leaning against the truck and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in a little closer. You end up resting your head on his shoulder while you keep talking.

But you can feel eyes burning into you. You look around the parking lot and spot Javi and Scott standing near where the StormPAR vehicles are, likely checking for any damage from the hail today. But they’re not looking at the vehicles, they’re looking at you. 

You knew the second you started getting friendly with the Wranglers it would lead to distrust from your teammates. You’re not stupid, you know they think you’re some kind of double agent. But, really, you’re just a girl in a completely different state and desperate for human connection that isn’t strictly professional or filled with arguing. You don’t even know what kind of secrets they could possibly think you’re sharing.

When they catch you looking back at them, they quickly turn away, very obviously trying to pretend they weren’t just staring at you. They finish up what they need to and make sure not to look anywhere near you when making their way back to their rooms, which makes you even more annoyed. 

You only stay outside for another half hour before deciding to just try to get some sleep, not able to fully reengage with the conversation afterwards. You’re tired, annoyed, and dangerously close to feeling genuinely hurt. The disconnect between you and the rest of your team isn’t new. If anything, it’s gotten better compared to a year ago.

So why is it so much more painful right now?

- - - -

You didn’t sleep much. And based on Kate’s appearance as she leaves her room, she didn’t either. 

While Scott and Javi meet with Riggs in the diner near the motel, you decide to walk to the gas station nearby, realizing very quickly that you’re not getting through the day without copious amounts of caffeine. As everyone else hangs out in the parking lot, you spot Kate standing alone, scrolling on her phone and chewing at her lip.

You approach her from the side, not wanting to startle her. “Hey. Um, I’m gonna walk to the gas station quick. Do you wanna come with?”

She looks up from her phone, taking a second to process your question before nodding. “Oh, yeah, that sounds great. Thanks.”

You start off the walk in silence, not sure what to say. You’ve barely interacted with her, but you want her to know that you’re someone she can trust for the short time she’s with you guys. After a minute, you speak up, “I know that the others can be kind of… standoffish,” you shake your head, not sure why you’re sugarcoating it. “Rude. They’re rude. So I just wanted to let you know that I get it, and I don’t want you to feel as uncomfortable as I did when I first started, so I’m happy to, like, be here if you need. I guess.”

She nods slowly from beside you, still chewing on her lip. “Thanks, Sunny. Really, I appreciate it.”

You breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t completely misread the situation. “Yeah, of course. Oh, and the others may make it sound like the Wranglers are, like, the worst people you’ll ever meet… don’t believe them. They’re just mad that they actually accept people… Seems like Tyler already likes you,” you add with a smirk.

She flushes and looks down at her feet, pursing her lips to the side of her mouth. “Oh, please, I’m sure he likes everybody.”

You chuckle and hold the door to the gas station open for her, following her inside. “You’d think! But he’s a romantic. That man wants nothing more than to have one person to give the world to. He never shuts up about it. I am far too aware.”

She doesn’t say anything else about that, but the look on her face makes it clear she’s considering your words. And you’ll take that. 

You buy two energy drinks today. Kate peruses, but doesn’t end up getting anything. When you make it back to the diner, things feel significantly lighter. 

But of course Scott Miller can’t have that. 

Scott and Javi’s meeting is still going on when you get back, so you and Kate decide to just pop inside and see when they’re planning on leaving so you can have things ready. 

Scott is saying something about offers when you guys approach, but his eyes snap up and he doesn’t continue. His eyes flick down to the two cans in your hand before they drag back up, going between you and Kate. Kate turns to Javi. “When do you want to head out?”

“Kate, this is… this is Marshall Riggs. We’ve been working together. He’s one of the StormPAR investors I told you about,” Javi introduces. 

“How scary was that tornado yesterday?” Riggs asks Kate.

Her face does something complicated that you catch before she quickly schools it into a casual smile. “Not at all.”

Scott hums at that, eyes locked on her, and, though you try, you can’t suppress the small scoff that escapes you. Her head snaps toward him, but he just shakes his head and gives her a thumbs up and his expression becomes almost amused. 

You can’t even stick around to finish the interaction. You stare at him incredulously for another second, but when he finally looks at you, you clench your teeth and roll your eyes before walking out of the diner wordlessly.

When Kate exits a few moments later, she looks a little uncomfortable. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Are you?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, taking a deep breath. “He just gets on my nerves.” “I’ve noticed.” She lets there be a moment of silence before gently asking, “Any particular reason for that?” You shrug. “He just…” You trail off. “Does.”

She nods, knowing you’re not going to tell her anything more. She pats your shoulder before walking off toward the edge of the gravel parking lot, watching the sky. Any other day you’d probably join her, but today, you need a few minutes of isolation and silence before having to deal with Scott. So you get in the driver seat of Scarecrow, close your eyes, and rest your head back against the seat. You get a few blissful moments of calm before you hear shouting outside and Scott is practically jumping into the passenger seat. “Start the truck.” You jump, not expecting him to enter with so much noise. “What?” “Start the truck! Drive! Do you have ears?”

You grumble under your breath but do as he says. You assume you missed something big with the intensity of his actions and the way Tyler drives past you all with a honk of his horn that’s clearly meant to be taunting. You pull out behind Tyler’s truck and their RV, between Lion and Tin Man.

“Will you open my drink, then, since I didn’t have any time?”

He glances down at the cup holder and scoffs but does it anyway. “These things are going to kill you if you keep drinking them at this rate.”

“Mm, I’m sure you’d love that.” It’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out too flat.

He freezes, his fingers still on the tab of the can. “That’s not funny.” It’s quiet. Too quiet compared to his usual booming voice. 

You blink. Of all the reactions he could’ve had, that wasn’t one you knew what to do with. You try to come up with a response, a reaction, anything. But it feels like you’ve been playing a video game and an NPC just became sentient. There’s no script for this. No protocol.

So you don’t. You just reach for the can. When he realizes that you’re reaching for it, he furrows his brows and seems like he doesn’t know what to do either. But he seems to regain his footing quickly and pulls his hand back, grabbing the tablet resting in his lap and pulling up the radar. 

After a minute of tense silence, you decide you need music. So you open Spotify on the CarPlay and choose music that doesn’t make you think of him. Something that isn’t what he’d listen to.

For once in his life, Scott doesn’t comment on it. 

You make it to a straight dirt road that cuts through some fields and watch as Javi overtakes Dexter and Dani’s RV in front of you to be behind Tyler. Oh. So that’s how today’s gonna go.

At the sight of the rotating clouds in front of you, Scott starts to shuffle things around on his side to be prepared to place the PAR and you pause the music. He looks at the center console and notices your safety glasses aren’t placed where they usually are. “Where’s your safety glasses?”

“My bag. In the back.” Your response is flat.

“Why are they still in your bag?” He sounds just as, if not even more, annoyed than you, but is already twisting around in his seat to grab your bag from the back. 

“Because you didn’t give me any fucking warning before jumping in here and yelling at me to drive.”

“Well, I am so sorry the tornado decided to mess with your nap, but this is our job, remember?” He grabs the bag and sits back in his seat, going through all the pockets before finding your glasses and placing them in the center console before tossing it back behind his seat. 

“I am well aware that it’s my job, Scott. We’re here, aren’t we? There’s a tornado on the ground directly in front of us, isn’t there?” At your last point you get pissed even further, realizing you missed the touchdown, the best part, because you were arguing. 

He scoffs and shakes his head, looking directly at you. “Someone’s in a mood–” 

You cut him off, completely forgetting about the argument the second you register what you’re seeing in front of you. “Twins!” You point at the windshield. “Twins!”

He falters for a second before turning to follow your finger, taking in the sight of the two tornadoes. Some of the tension drains from his shoulders. “Well, shit,” he breathes out.

When you see them start to rotate around each other, you can’t help but smile widely, slapping the steering wheel. “Fujiwhara effect! Holy shit, I’ve only ever read about that!”

“Huh. You do not see that everyday,” he mutters, seemingly also entranced by the motion.

They don’t rotate around each other for long. Soon, they move to pull away from each other and you all know that one will die out. You need to pick the one that won’t.

Suddenly you’re all pushing forward even faster. The needle on the speedometer on your dash sits at 70 mph and inches higher as you put more pressure on the pedal, excitement settling in your belly. You try to get around the RV in front of you, but Dexter swerves every time you do, effectively blocking you from passing. It’s as funny as it is frustrating.

“Go for it. Get around him,” Scott says, hand gesturing forward in irritation. You stick to the edge of the dirt road on the left and when the RV moves a little more to the right, he tries to direct you again. “Get on his left. Get on his left.”

“I’m trying,” you mumble, sighing when they block you again.

“Well, try harder.” 

It’s simultaneously the most aggravating and attractive thing you’ve ever heard and you will not be dwelling on it, thank you very much.

“All right, guys, let’s stop playing games. Let’s cut these guys off,” Javi’s voice crackles through your earpieces. 

Given that Tin Man and Wizard are both still behind you, you have no choice but to try and get around the RV. “This is stupid,” you mutter before pressing down harder on the gas pedal and managing to swerve around them on their right. You watch Javi in front of you pass Tyler’s truck and the four StormPAR vehicles manage to form a line once again, passing the Wranglers.

“I thought they liked you.”

Something in your chest gets tight, as does your grip on the steering wheel. Stupid, considering how casually he says it. “They do like me. They probably think it’s you driving.” You bring your hand up to speak into your earpiece, not giving him a chance to comment any further. “Which one are we taking, Javi? Left or right?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end before Javi’s voice comes through again. “Right, guys, go right.”

You nod despite the fact he can’t see you and push forward. Just as you hit the intersection, though, Javi’s truck in front of you takes a hard left turn. Scott’s reaction time is quicker than yours, hand already out and instructing, “Going left. Go left, go left.” He hits the button on his own earpiece. “Javi, you sure? The right one’s got better numbers.” He hits the button again and you watch the Wranglers in the rear view mirror as they take the right. “Who the hell is making decisions up there, him or her?”

You’re exhausted, confused, and annoyed, so you bite a little harsher than necessary, “If you’re trying to get me to agree with you that Kate doesn’t belong here, it’s not going to happen.”

He glares at the side of your face. “I’m not trying to get you to agree with me on anything. Gave up on that a long time ago. But if she’s wrong about this like I think she is, that’s two blown chases. We can’t afford that just so Javi can reconnect with his little girlfriend.”

“Okay, first off,” you glance at him briefly in disbelief before focusing back on the road. “They’re not a couple. Even if they were, she’s an educated professional just like you and him and you don’t get to reduce her to just being somebody’s girlfriend. Second, we’ve had plenty of failed chases before. Some were your fault! So you can’t really say shit. Now can you please stop arguing with me for two seconds so I can focus on the fucking tornado?” You’re breathing a little heavier by the end of your rant, not realizing you’d started to raise your voice until it’s suddenly deathly silent inside the vehicle, save for the gravel under the tires and howling wind outside. 

Scott opens his mouth but quickly snaps it shut again. When you turn to grab your glasses and put them on, you can see the familiar tick in his jaw, the way he’s clenching it tightly. He hesitates too long and doesn’t get a chance to respond before you’re throwing the SUV into reverse, slamming on the breaks, and you’re both jumping out to place the PAR. 

The wind whips your hair into your face once again and you angrily try to brush it back behind your ears, making a mental note to just go buy some damn hair ties already. There’s no rain, which helps significantly, so you both get the radar placed quickly. Scott alerts the others as you guys get back into the truck and the Tin Man crew confirm they're also up a second later. 

You drive to a safe spot out of the path, not far away and let out a breath of relief when Peter confirms that Wizard is receiving data from all three PARs. Good. Take that, Scott.

Your relief is short-lived when Peter says they lost Javi’s radar and Javi doesn’t respond. 

Thirty agonizing seconds. 

Silence in your earpiece.

Silence from Scott.

The only sound is the familiar rapid bouncing of your leg and the bite of your teeth on the already-raw skin of your fingers.

You can’t sit here. 

You throw the car door open and slam it shut behind you, pacing in the grass. Your eyes lock onto the tornado in the distance.

It shifted. Right toward where Kate and Javi had been.

Your stomach sinks.

You don’t hear the passenger door open and close behind you over the howling wind and noise in your head. You jump when Scott is suddenly in front of you, yelling over the wind. “Get back in the car.”

You shake your head frantically, words muffled around the finger between your teeth, focus still on the tornado behind him. “I can’t.”

“Standing out here isn’t helping anyone.”

Your voice rises an octave. Your eyes are wide and frantic as you finally snap your gaze to his face and pull your hand away. “So I’m just supposed to sit there and be totally calm about the fact that they could be hurt?” You bring your hand back to your mouth as soon as you're done speaking.

He steps forward then, his gaze still locked on yours, and grabs your wrist. His touch is far gentler than you’d imagined as he slowly pulls your hand away. “I’m not saying you need to be totally calm,” he says, voice still raised over the wind. His tone is softer than normal, but firm. “But I am saying you don’t have control over this, so stop acting like you should.”

Your shoulders drop slightly and you almost soften. But when he mentions control, you rip your wrist from his grasp and take a step back. “Oh, please! Like you’re not obsessed with control!” You spit the words out.

He lets out a cold, humorless laugh and takes a step forward, closing the distance you tried to make. “This is my job,” he says your name with an intensity you’ve never heard. “I have to be in control. Because if I’m not, nobody is, and then people get hurt.”

Your eyes narrow, burning into his with defiance. You have to tilt your head back to hold his gaze, mentally cursing his height that you usually have to stop yourself from drooling over. “No, you do it because you have a superiority complex. Anybody on this team could do what you do.”

“Not you!” The words are out of his mouth immediately–like he didn’t even have to think about them. “You panic. You run. You chew your fingers until they bleed! Does that sound like somebody you’d want in charge of a team in a highly dangerous profession?”

The words hit exactly where he means for them to. You freeze, letting them sit heavily in your chest for just a moment before pushing through the hurt, using it to fuel your anger. “At least I give a fuck! At least I don’t have impossible standards so I can continue to act like everyone around me is disposable!” You jab your pointer finger into the center of his chest. “You don’t want control to make sure people don’t get hurt. You want control so you can make everyone around you feel incompetent–so you get to be the only one who matters.”

Something sharp flashes in his eyes and he opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off by Javi’s voice crackling through the earpieces. “We’re good. It grazed us, but we’re good.”

For a second you don’t process the words, then the anger leaves your body so quickly it makes you dizzy. “Oh, thank god,” you breathe out, dropping your hand and dragging it down your face, stumbling back to stabilize yourself against the vehicle.

Scott doesn’t say anything to you. Instead you watch in real time as he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for just a moment, and walks around the front of the car back to the passenger side. He presses the button on his earpiece. “All right, we got two radars that held up. Yours was getting great data, we just need to find it and download it all.”

You stand frozen for a beat, two, before slowly sliding back into the driver’s seat. The silence in the car is nearly unbearable as you shift into drive, going back to where the radar is to pick it up. You can only handle the weight of it for less than a minute. “You don’t get to speak to me like that.” It comes out quieter than you planned for it to.

He doesn’t say anything. Not when you say that. Not when you make it to the radar and both have to put it back in the trunk. Not even when Javi says to hold off on finding his radar and go into Crystal Springs instead to help the small town that got hit by the same tornado. And not a single sarcastic mutter under his breath on the drive there. 

- - - -

The damage is devastating.

Entire walls and roofs are missing from houses. Cars are overturned. The local police have imposed a curfew for safety.

This is why you do what you do. 

Because these people have just experienced what they’ll likely remember as one of the worst days of their lives, and the research you’re gathering could help give them more advanced warnings. 

There are so many people. Civilians, first responders, chasers. It makes you a little teary to see a community come together like this. 

Javi and Scott made sure that every person on StormPAR was trained in first aid, and that comes in handy in situations like this. You’re finishing bandaging up a young boy’s wound from flying debris when you hear a voice coming from a nearby house calling out for ‘Wally.’

You pat the boy’s shoulder and push yourself off the ground, making your way towards the voice. You find a woman standing in front of her home that’s barely standing, hands cupped around her mouth. “Wally! Come out, honey!”

You approach her and gently place your hand on her upper arm. “Ma’am, is someone still in the house?”

She startles and turns toward you, tears streaking down her cheeks. “My cat, Wally. I heard him meow, I know he’s in there, I just don’t know where. I lost him when I was climbing out.”

Your heart breaks and you look around at the first responders. They’re all busy trying to rescue actual people, you know they don’t have time for a cat… 

But you do.

“Okay, where in the house did you see him last?” You bend down to make sure your boots are laced tightly.

“Um, I think it was the kitchen? I’m not sure, honestly, everything looks so turned around inside.” You straighten up and nod. “I understand. I’m gonna try to find him, okay?”

She lets out a choked sob and nods frantically, folding her hands in front of her mouth. “Thank you so much.”

You give her a smile that you hope is reassuring and doesn’t relay the anxiety and dread you feel sitting heavy in your chest. You instruct her to go find a paramedic for herself to check out the laceration on her forehead that’s slowly but steadily bleeding while you search for Wally, then take a deep breath before climbing over the wood and furniture blocking your way into the house.

You’re about to step over the threshold that you think leads into what used to be the living room when a familiar, aggravating voice yells out behind you, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You stop and let out a long exhale, not turning around to face him. “Finding a cat.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” You whip around at that, arms crossed over your chest, glaring at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re going into a structure that’s one gust of wind from collapsing, alone, for a cat?” The look on his face is both incredulous and pissed.

You nod once. “Yes.”

He just stares at you for a moment. “You are the most stubborn person I have ever met in my entire life.” You shrug and turn back around, ready to continue your search, before he yells out again. “Hey! Stop! Seriously, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I’m fine, Scott! Go back to trying to rip people off with Riggs,” you call over your shoulder, ducking under a beam and finally entering the house. You hear him scoff loudly, but he doesn’t say anything else.

The dust hits you like a smack in the face. It’s thick, instantly burning your eyes and throat. You cough once and cover your nose and mouth with your hand, cursing yourself for not thinking about this ahead of time. 

The floor underneath your feet, if you could even call it a floor anymore, is unsteady. Littered in debris and unstable from the structural damage, you walk very carefully, keeping a close eye with every step. Every shift and creak makes you pause.

“Wally!” You shout, muffled by your hand. When you don’t hear anything in response, you take a deep breath and remove your hand, calling out again. You hear a small meow from ahead of you and gasp, coughing as you inhale dust. You quickly replace your hand and keep moving forward carefully.

When you get to where the living room meets the kitchen, you see a large gray cat across the floor, wide green eyes staring up at you.

“Hi buddy,” you coo, crouching down and holding out the hand that’s not covering your mouth. “Come here, little guy, I’ve got ya.” He hesitates for a moment, but quickly decides he can trust you. He carefully steps around the debris in his path and the second he’s within reach, you scoop him up with both arms. “Okay, mister, let’s get out of here.”

You do your best to hold your breath to avoid breathing in dust, but every time your foot slips or you feel yourself start to wobble, you gasp, inhaling more each time. But your grip on Wally never loosens.

You make it back to the exit after what’s realistically only been minutes, but felt like hours. When you reemerge, you take a large breath, welcoming the fresh air back into your lungs before a short coughing fit alerts the people nearby of your presence once again. The woman is having her wound cleaned by a paramedic right in front of the house, but the second she sees you with Wally in your arms she pushes forward and runs, wrapping you in a tight hug as a choked sob escapes, muttering thanks over and over. 

You’re not sure how to handle the gesture, but you let her hug and thank you as much as she needs before carefully handing the cat over to her. She holds him tightly, sobbing into his fur while your eyes scan the area around you for something she can keep him secure in. A tap on your shoulder behind you makes you turn, where you’re instantly greeted by a large cardboard box. You look up to see Scott holding it out to you. You didn’t even know he was still there. You pause, eyes flicking between him and the box, before grabbing it wordlessly and turning back to the woman. 

“Here, you can put him in this.” You look around for a blanket or something similar, but everything is either torn to shreds or soaked in rain and mud. “Um… one second.” You run back to Scarecrow and dig through your bag in the backseat, grabbing an old t-shirt that you only ever wear to sleep. You jog back to them, laying the shirt along the bottom of the box and helping her place him inside. “There you go,” you say, shooting her a smile.

She thanks you once again, pulling you into another tight hug, before taking the box back to the paramedic to finish getting her wound cleaned up. Scott opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “Don’t.” You don’t give him the chance to say anything else before walking off. 

 You spot Kate next to Javi’s truck, posture tighter than normal. You approach her gently. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?” Her head snaps up to you. “Oh, yeah, just… Tyler.” 

You nod slowly. “Love the guy, but yeah, that tracks.”

“Are you okay? You seem… upset.”

You huff out a laugh. “Scott.”

She nods, one corner of her mouth turning up. “Also not surprising.” She gestures to the truck. “Javi gave me the keys, told me to get some rest. You want to come with? Get away from the guys?”

You exhale in relief, feeling tension leave your shoulders. “I would love that, thank you.”

- - - -

You lay on your side in your bed, scrolling through your phone, while Kate sits with her laptop open in front of her on the other. The news plays quietly in the background of the small motel room, discussing the tornado outbreak and the State of Emergency that’s been issued by the governor. Your phone buzzes with a text.

Javi (6:13 pm): Where are you?

You (6:14 pm): with kate

Javi (6:16 pm): Which is where?

You (6:18 pm): a motel by the rodeo

Javi (6:20 pm): You guys aren’t staying with us tonight?

You (6:23 pm): she’s mad at tyler, i’m mad at scott

Javi (6:26 pm): Why is she mad at Tyler?

Javi (6:26 pm): Scott mentioned you were pissed at him. You wanna talk about it?

You (6:29 pm): no idea. and nope

Javi (6:31 pm): Understood. See you two in the morning?

You (6:31 pm): 👍

“Hey, what do you know about Riggs?”

Your head snaps up at Kate’s question, seeing her hunched over her laptop. “What?”

“Marshall Riggs. The StormPAR investor. Do you know anything?”

“Uh, I know he’s Scott’s uncle. And he, like, buys properties from people affected by storm damage. Not much else.”

She turns to you. “Is he ripping people off?”

The question catches you off guard. Because while you’re not sure, you just accused Scott of doing that exact thing an hour ago. “Honestly? I’m not sure. But I wouldn’t put it past him. Why?”

She shakes her head, chewing on her lip as she looks back down at her laptop. “Tyler said something about it… I really want him to be wrong.”

You’re about to respond, but there’s a knock at the door. You and Kate share a look before she gets up to answer it. You sit up, angling to see who it is once it’s open, shocked to see Tyler. 

“Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying out by the rodeo.” He pauses, peering inside, holding up a box of pizza. “Hi, Sunny. Thought you guys might be hungry.”

You wave at his greeting to you and watch as Kate seems to debate something internally. She stands there for a moment, holds her hand out, takes the pizza box, and shuts the door right in Tyler’s smiling face.

Your hand flies to your mouth to cover up the snort that escapes. Kate turns back around with a poorly suppressed smirk on her face. She sits down on your bed, sets the pizza box between you, and pauses, staring down at it. 

“You gonna open the door again?” You ask after a few moments with a grin. 

She groans dramatically but stands and saunters back over to the door. When she opens it, Tyler is still standing there, a smile growing on his face as soon as he sees her again. She waits until he situates himself, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, before asking,  “You find the dog?”

“Of course I found the dog,” he answers with a cocky lilt. He peeks around the door, pointing at you. “And I heard you climbed into a collapsing house to save a cat?”

Kate whips around to stare at you, her eyes wide. You smile at them sheepishly, “Perhaps.”

Kate shakes her head and turns back to Tyler. You lay back down, scrolling on your phone, letting them have their own conversation. A minute later, he’s walking inside the room behind Kate, who’s grabbing her phone and wallet.

“Let’s go,” he says, gesturing for you to get up.

You look up at him. “What? Go where?”

 “Just get up, you’ll see.”

You sit up with a grunt, eyebrows furrowed as you slide on your sneakers and grab your own phone and wallet. 

- - - -

“The rodeo?” You ask, tilting your head toward Tyler as the three of you walk across the street. 

“The rodeo,” he confirms with a nod and smile.

Once you’re seated in the stands, surrounded by people, Tyler in between you and Kate, you ask, “Why the rodeo?”

“Well, I know you’ve never been,” he says to you, then turns to Kate. “You ever see anything like this, city girl?”

Her eyes flick between him and the action in front of you all, taking a moment to clap along with everything else, before she responds. “You keep calling me that. You know I grew up on a farm?” At his shocked look, she shrugs. “Yeah. Sapulpa. Couple hours from here. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“Look at that,” he muses. “I learned something about you.”

“You guys are making me feel like a third wheel,” you laugh, enjoying the way they both turn red. You focus on the rodeo, now, letting them have their moment. It’s obvious that Tyler is whipped for her already, and while Kate is definitely better at hiding her feelings, you’re sure she likes him too.

After a few minutes of tuning out their conversation and watching the events of the rodeo, a large gust of wind sends leaves and dust into the air, blowing through the stands. The crowd murmurs, mostly annoyed by the inconvenience of strong winds, but you feel goosebumps raise on your arms and a pit start to form in your stomach.

Lightning flashes a moment later, followed almost immediately by a rumble of thunder. Kate picks up a leaf from in front of her and turns to Tyler. “Were you tracking cells out this way?” Tyler’s eyes glance down to hers before he turns to look at you as well. The three of you glance around at the sky, immediately noticing the shift in the air. “Air feels heavy,” Kate points out. “This isn’t good.”

You start to dig your phone out of your back pocket, ready to pull up the radar and make sure you’re all just being dramatic, but before it’s even fully in your hands, the sound of EAS alerts fills your ears as another flash of lighting strikes.

Your head snaps up to Kate and Tyler for a brief moment before you look down at your phone, staring at the tornado warning. A second later, the sirens start. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I just received word a tornado has touched down near the area! We need to evacuate this arena right now! Once again, ladies and gentlemen, we need to evacuate this arena right now!”

The crowd explodes at the announcer’s words. Everyone is on their feet, shouting, shoving each other, trying to get out as quickly as possible. The bulls bolt to their pens, bellowing as they do. 

The three of you are up and moving immediately. Someone gets trampled in front of you and you all stop to help her up, Tyler guiding her forward again, before continuing to run back across the street to the motel. There’s still screaming, honking, the howling of the wind, sirens, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears. Every tornado you’ve been in has been part of a chase, something controlled and planned for. This is new.

Unpredictable. 

Dangerous.

As you make it back to the motel, a mother is helping her young daughter get into the back seat of her car, and you all shout to stop her. You usher them inside with you, bursting into the lobby. You and Kate get inside first and push past the man talking to the motel employee while his girlfriend stands to the side.

“Do you have a storm shelter?” Kate asks.

“Man, the AC’s blowing hot air,” the other guy complains, talking over the employee as he tries to tell Kate there’s no storm shelter. “Can we get a refund going here?”

“All right, maybe like a basement. Do you have a basement?” Tyler asks after shoving his way to the counter as well.

The clerk again tells Tyler no, and the other guy turns to Tyler. “There’s a line here, buddy.”

Tyler ignores him and turns back to the employee, telling him that we need to get people underground. You turn to the other man. “There’s a tornado, buddy.” You can hear the mom comforting her daughter behind you.

“Okay, there’s no tornado,” a woman leaning against the window says as she lazily fans herself with a pamphlet, rolling her eyes. You and Kate both freeze, turning toward her. “Nine times out of ten, it’s a false alarm.”

“Babe, we’re meteorologists. I promise there’s a tornado,” you say frantically, unable to let her ignorance affect whether or not you get these people somewhere safe.

“You hear that?” She asks as the lights flicker and the sirens outside suddenly get quieter. “No tornado.” She looks at you smugly.

“Now the power’s out,” the other guy complains. 

“We got to find a shelter, fast,” Kate says, running behind the desk to search for a safe place. Tyler turns to the mother and daughter, making sure they’re okay. 

“Hey, I don’t want to have to give you a bad review-”

“Can you shut up?!” You snap, cutting the man off and gesturing wildly. “Nobody cares about your fucking review, man!” You turn to the little girl and her mother, holding out a gentle hand, wincing. “Sorry.”

Kate comes rushing out of the back. “Everybody, come with me!”

Tyler doesn’t waste a second. “All right, follow her, follow her.” His hand is on the mother’s shoulder, gently guiding her before she takes off running after Kate, holding her daughter’s hand. The motel employee follows a second later, the four of them running into the back. 

You stay with Tyler, trying to get the other two to follow you. You both resort to physical force. You move for the woman, Tyler moves for the man. You barely drag the woman out of the way before a siren crashes through the window, creating an explosion of glass. 

You miss the siren by mere inches, feel stinging across your body from where the glass hits you, but don’t have any time to focus on it. Tyler is at your side in a flash, hauling you off the ground by your arm, dragging you along with him.

You didn’t even realize you’d fallen.

“There’s a tornado! There’s a tornado!” The girl is shouting, sprinting for the back door. 

I told you so.

The couple ends up behind you as you all run out the back door, following Kate to the empty pool. It’s not covered, but it’s the lowest ground around and surrounded on all four sides. It’s smart. 

It’s probably your only chance at surviving.

The wind whips your hair so hard it feels like it’s being ripped out. When you get to the pool gate, Kate holds it open, ushering you all in. Tyler goes first with the mother, daughter, helping them down the ladder into the deep end of the pool. You push the motel employee through the gate before you and turn to do the same with the couple, but you realize they’re not behind you anymore.

Kate notices at the same time and you both freeze, watching as they scramble into their truck and attempt to drive away. You both start screaming for them to stop even though you know they can’t hear you. They don’t even make it out of the parking lot before their truck is thrown onto its side. 

You both watch in horror as the truck spins on the ground once, twice, before being picked up into the air and thrown so hard you lose sight of it almost immediately. Your stomach drops so hard you think you might throw up.

That’s when you actually see it for the first time. In between flashes of lightning, you see the massive tornado as it hits the motel and it’s like everything else just… stops. No sound, no people, just you and this beautiful, terrifying thing that is probably going to kill you. 

Everything comes rushing back in when Tyler wraps his hands around your waist, practically tossing you toward the pool ladder and shouting something you can’t quite make out. You snap back into focus. Kate isn’t next to you anymore, instead already in the pool, helping the mother and daughter get safely situated, holding onto the pipes in a cutout area of the wall.

You quickly climb down the ladder, waiting at the bottom for him to join you. The employee jumps into the pool a second later, further toward the shallow end, and is immediately followed by a vending machine that just barely misses him but cuts off his direct path to you.

The three of you all make a move to go for him, but Tyler tells you and Kate to stay back with the mother and daughter and his tone leaves no room for argument. You both manage to safely drag your way along the bottom of the pool back to the cutout. You check on the mom and daughter, who are both still secure, and turn back to watch Tyler.

The employee gets blown back by the wind, and you can feel the all too familiar pit of dread once again. When he gets on all fours instead of staying flat on the ground like Tyler’s shouting at him to do, it gives the wind the perfect opportunity to sweep under him, and you just… stare as he’s tossed into the air as well. 

As soon as he’s out of sight, a mangled trailer comes crashing down in his place, landing so close to Tyler it makes him bounce. You start shouting, not even able to hear yourself over the wind and rain that’s now starting as the tornado gets closer and closer, trying to tell him to hurry up! He drags himself along the bottom of the pool, using the drain cover as leverage, but the trailer is being blown towards him.

You and Kate each keep one hand on the pipes and reach out your others. He grabs onto them both as soon as he’s close enough, and you haul him forward just as the wind sends the trailer slamming against the wall. If it weren’t for the cutout, you’d all have been crushed.

Tyler crouches over you and Kate, holding onto the pipes above your heads. You can hear the mother next to you, repeating over and over to her daughter that they’re okay, that she’s got her, that she’s safe.

They’re safe. You’re safe.

Realistically, it should make you feel better, too.

Your grip on the pipes doesn’t cease even when the wind gets quieter and everyone else moves around to you. You don’t open your eyes, don’t even breathe, because you’re not sure you can trust that it’s actually over.

It’s not until Tyler places a gentle hand on your shoulder that you finally dare to peek one eye open, letting out a sharp breath. “Hey… hey. It’s over. We’re okay.”

You slowly turn your head over your shoulder to see the trailer leaning precariously over the cutout. It’s acting as a sort of shield right now, but if it slips, you’ll be trapped. Your rational brain knows that you need to get out, that the tornado is gone and you’ll be safer out of here.

But your body doesn’t seem to get the memo. Your hands are trembling–whether from how tight your grip is or the adrenaline, you’re not sure. Your breathing is shallow and your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

But you still don’t move. Still don’t react. 

When Tyler can tell that you’re not getting up on your own, he carefully pries your hands from the pipes, hooks his arms under your armpits, and drags you out himself. You don’t bother trying to fight him on it.

When you’re out of the cutout, he hauls you to your feet and wraps one arm around your waist, the other around your shoulders. “Come on, you gotta help me out, here.” You move on instinct, forcing your feet to stay planted on the ground despite the fact that your legs feel far too heavy. When you look around over the pool edge, it’s like you don’t even recognize where you are. Entire buildings are flattened, vehicles are flipped over, the ground is almost completely covered in debris. “You still with me?”

You blink at him. “What?” Has your voice always sounded like that?

“I asked if you’re still with me. Can you move?” His voice is so gentle it makes you even more nauseous.

You nod, but don’t put much thought into the action. Slowly–very, very slowly–you drag your feet under you, unintentionally forcing Tyler to carry most of your weight, until you make your way up the pool steps on shaking legs.  

Once you’re out of the pool, Tyler gently seats you next to Kate and the mother and daughter on the ground before he pulls out his phone. First he calls 911. His voice sounds too far compared to his actual distance from you, but your attention sharpens slightly at the mention of medical assistance. You glance at the others and don’t see any visible injuries and are about to ask why you’d need an ambulance, but then you look down and see you’re covered in cuts that are still bleeding. 

Oh.

Then he calls Boone, letting him know what happened and that he’s okay. By the sounds of it, the rest of the Wranglers don’t waste a second before coming to meet you guys.

You fumble in your back pocket for your phone, fingers too clumsy to get a grip on it. You turn to Kate when it slips back into your pocket once more, your breathing growing slightly heavier when you can’t grab onto it. “We need to call them–Javi and Scott. Kate, we need to tell them where we are.”

She places a hand on your arm and it instantly steadies your breathing again. “I already did. They’re on their way.”

You nod for too long, staring straight ahead at the pile of wood you’re pretty sure used to be the motel. Your eyes catch a glimpse of white. You stare at it for a moment before registering that it’s Javi’s truck, the one you guys took here, now thrown into the walls. But it’s upright and still looks functional from what you can tell. Good. Less money, less paperwork, less delay in work. 

You’re not sure how much time passes before the whirring of helicopter blades overhead breaks your blank stare, a spotlight shining down on you all as it scans the area, and the arrival of multiple emergency vehicles and the Wranglers in very quick succession. It’s enough to disorient you, not sure what to focus on first. 

Tyler unknowingly makes the choice for you when he brings a paramedic over to where you’re sitting. The woman crouches down in front of you, doing a brief visual assessment before asking if you can stand. You nod automatically, so she calls over her partner, and they both manage to get you upright and over to the ambulance on the other side of the pool. 

The walk is short, but every step feels like your legs are going to give out from under you and your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin with each movement due to the rain. When you finally make it to the ambulance, they help you get seated on the back and immediately wrap a warm blanket around your shoulders. They look over your body and work on removing the small glass shards in your arms and back. You’re lucky, they tell you, that you didn’t get any in your face. You don’t feel lucky. You don’t feel much.

You think it should hurt more than it does, but you’re thankful it doesn’t. Once they’re done removing the glass, they work on cleaning up the cuts that litter your body and try to stop them from bleeding. It’s a long process. Too long. Long enough that they’re still doing it when the rest of your team shows up. 

You watch as Javi gets out of the vehicle quicker than you’ve ever seen. He spots Kate first where she stands with Tyler, Lily, and Ben and you watch as they run toward each other, pulling each other into a tight hug. That should make you smile. But it doesn’t.

You don’t notice Scott until he’s coming up right behind the paramedics, walking faster than normal. His gaze is locked on you over their heads and you just… meet it.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He snaps as soon as he’s close enough. The paramedics continue their work. 

You blink at him, hearing the question, but you don’t have an answer. Instead, you slowly raise one of your hands and jab your thumb to your left. “Javi’s truck is over there. Didn’t try to start it yet, but it looks okay.”

He visibly falters, taking a half step back. He blinks a few times, then lets his eyes roam over your body, taking it all in. The blood, the broken skin, the soaked clothes and hair sticking to your face… the blank look in your eyes. His jaw tightens. “Wh–,” he cuts himself off and draws his eyebrows together. “I didn’t ask about the truck.”

You don’t respond to him. Just continue letting the paramedics clean you up. Your eyes drift from him, toward the scene of Kate, Javi, and Tyler in the background. Maybe this will bring your teams closer together.

Scott says your name sharply, hoping to get any reaction from you, but all you do is slowly bring your focus back to him, and that makes him break. He turns toward the paramedics now, barking out, “Is this normal? Did she hit her head or something?”

One of the paramedics glances at him briefly before returning her focus back to a particularly nasty cut on your bicep. “The others she was with reported no head trauma. This just seems like classic shock.”

He scoffs, “Classic shock?” “Yes, sir, classic shock. She just went through a traumatic event, this is–”

He cuts her off. “I know what she just went through. This is our job, she has never been this… this–detached after a storm. Something is wrong.” He’s speaking frantically now. He turns, his eyes rapidly flicking around the chaos before he spots Tyler and shouts his name. Tyler rushes over immediately, his expression concerned, and Scott doesn’t even let him get a word out before he’s pressing him. “Did she hit her head?” Tyler shakes his head, frown deepening. “No, I already told them.” He gestures toward the paramedics, who are putting a bandage over the cut on your bicep. “I even made sure when she fell. Why?”

Scott’s eyes widen, his voice rising. “She fell?”

Tyler reels back slightly at the intensity of his voice but keeps his own voice even. “Yeah, a siren flew through the window, that’s what the cuts are from. It missed her, but she fell. I watched, though, and she never hit her head. Why, what’s going on?” His eyes snap to you as the paramedics step back, deciding to give you all some more privacy now that you’re cleaned up. 

“What’s going on?” Scott echoes incredulously. “Look at her!” He throws an arm out, gesturing at where you’re sitting, hunched with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching them blankly. “She’s, like, broken!”

Tyler keeps his voice gentle. “Scott, man, I’m pretty sure this is just–”

“If you say shock, I’m going to punch you.”

Tyler softens, letting his posture drop slightly, becoming less defensive. He gently puts his hand on the back of Scott’s shoulder and turns him away from you, lowering his voice. “Look, I get that it’s scary, but this is a normal reaction. I was with her the whole time. She didn’t get seriously injured, but it was… it was bad, man. I mean, really bad. Three people died right in front of her.” He glances at you over his shoulder for a beat before turning back to Scott. “That’s not something you can just bounce back from right away, you know that.”

The breath that comes out of Scott feels like it was punched from his lungs. He was prepared to come here, yell at you, maybe get a quote on the property. He didn’t expect to find you so shut down, not bothering to snap at him even when he intentionally tried to get you to. He has no idea what to do–how to handle you like this. But he can’t say that.

So instead he lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head, pulling out of Tyler’s grip. “She doesn’t–” He pulls his baseball cap off and drags a hand through his hair, turning to glance at you for just a moment. “She doesn’t do this. My team doesn’t do this. They’re professionals–she’s a professional.” “They don’t do this because they chase in a controlled environment, normally,” Tyler reasons. “This was not a controlled environment. Look around you, man. What rating would you give it based on what you see right here?”

Scott opens his mouth to tell him he’s being stupid, but he stops short when he actually processes the damage for the first time since arriving. You wouldn’t have been able to tell this used to be a motel if you didn’t already know. The rodeo isn’t recognizable anymore either, the only familiar structure being the bull pens. “EF4, maybe.” “Yeah, that’s what I’d say, too. You guys chased an EF4 while she’s been on the team?” When Scott shakes his head, Tyler nods slowly. “This was probably the scariest moment of her life.” He exhales, shaking his head. “Hell, it was the scariest moment of mine, and I’ve been chasing way longer. Give her some time.”

- - - -

When you wake up in an unfamiliar motel room, it takes a moment to remember how you got there. You sit up too fast, looking around frantically. When you spot your phone on the nightstand, you unlock it with shaky hands. One of the most recent notifications is a text. 

Kate (11:19 am): In case you wake up while I’m gone, I’m running a few errands. The others should be around if you need anything.

You glance up at the time–11:34 am–and let out a relieved exhale. And then the pain hits all at once. Your skin feels like it’s been torn open, because it has, every muscle feels heavy and sore, and your head throbs. 

Seeing as Kate still isn’t back, you call the next best person–Javi. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, Sunny! You’re awake!” His voice is far too cheery for how shitty you feel.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” you croak out. Jesus, your voice sounds like shit.

“You sound like shit,” Javi said, echoing your exact thoughts. “How you feeling?”

“Fine.” It’s a lie, and you’re sure he knows it, too. “I don’t even know where I am. Are you here, too?”

“We all are. Kate just left to run a few errands, but the rest of us are here. You need anything? Food, water?” He doesn’t call you out on the lie, but the concern in his voice makes you wince. 

You hadn’t even processed how you feel besides the pain, but your stomach answers for you at the mention of food. “Food sounds great. And anything with caffeine. And pain meds.”

He chuckles and lets you know he’ll be at your room shortly before hanging up. In the sudden silence, everything from yesterday comes rushing back full force. The argument, the destruction, the visceral fear that was unlike anything you’ve ever felt. And then the way your emotions just… turned off. 

That part almost scares you more than anything else.

You don’t realize how heavily you’ve started breathing until a knock at the door makes your breath catch. Your heart pounds against your ribs, racing in time with your thoughts. You place a hand on your chest, force in a deep breath, slowly let it out, and stand.

You answer the door with a small, closed smile, and Javi’s hopeful expression immediately becomes one of concern. He gently pushes into the room, closing the door behind him while you stand awkwardly. “You lied.” You furrow your brows. “What?”

“You are not fine.” It’s not accusing, just said like a casual observation–like he’s not calling you out on something you’re desperately trying to hide. You don’t say anything as you grab the paper bag out of his hand, setting it down on the desk near the door. He pulls a plastic water bottle out of his pocket and holds it to you. “You can have your caffeine after you finish this.”

You stare at it for a beat before grabbing it with a small huff, taking a seat in the desk chair as he sits on the edge of your bed. You open the bag and pull out a breakfast sandwich–your go-to kind–and slowly take a bite. You both sit in silence as you chew and swallow the first bite before you mutter, “Thank you.”

He lets you eat a bit more, watching you fiddle with the wrapper in between bites, before he hesitantly says, “You scared the shit out of us last night.”

Your posture stiffens, chewing slower before roughly swallowing the food in your mouth. “Sorry.” Your voice comes out rougher than before.

“Why are you apologizing?” You just shrug, staring down at the desk. “Hey, Sunny, you know nobody’s mad at you, right?” He sounds genuinely confused.

You shrink–just barely, but enough for him to notice–starting to wrap up the rest of the sandwich. “Scott sounded mad.”

Javi’s eyes soften. “Look at me.” He gives you a moment, but when you don’t move, he scoots further onto the edge of the bed, bending forward to get into your peripheral. “Look at me, please.” You finally drag your gaze to meet his. “I know he sounded mad, but he’s not. I promise.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right.” You put the rest of the sandwich back into the bag and take a sip of water. “Have you seen Kate or Tyler? How are they?”

Javi watches you closely, opening his mouth then closing it, choosing his words carefully. “Kate is okay. Haven’t seen Tyler, yet, but they’re here too… He’s seriously not mad.”

“Did your truck survive?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. Can you please stop changing the subject?” “There’s nothing to talk about, Javi,” you snap, harsher than you mean to. You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry, I just–it was a long day, okay?”

“I know. And I’m sorry. Scott didn’t really go into specifics, but he told me that you guys had a big fight after the chase. And when we saw the size of the tornado later on radar, and where it was headed…” he trails off, swallowing thickly. “He freaked out, Sunny. I mean, I have never seen him that scared. Ever.”

You freeze, feeling a sinking pit in your stomach and like the breath you’re attempting to take is cut off. Because surely Scott Miller wasn’t scared. He was mad. Mad that you were about to become a huge liability if you were injured. Mad about the possibility of Javi’s truck being damaged beyond repair.

…Or maybe he was scared. 

Because Kate was there, too. 

Maybe he’s been nicer to Kate than he’s ever been to you because he likes her. 

Not just tolerates her–but genuinely likes her. She’s competent, educated, attractive.

Your stomach twists further at the thought. You’re not jealous–that would be insane. You just–

Your thoughts are interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. “What just happened?”

Your head snaps up to look at Javi. “What? Nothing.”

He shoots you an unimpressed look. “You just completely zoned out after I said Scott was scared.”

You chuckle, looking down as you start to pick at your fingernails. “Yeah, I was thinking about how badly you misread that.”

He frowns and he tightens his grip on your shoulder. “I didn’t misread it.”

You pull out of his grasp, standing abruptly and moving to put the bag into the mini fridge, avoiding eye contact the entire time. The thought worms its way into your mind–what if he was scared for you–but you shake your head, dismissing it immediately. You can’t afford to get your hopes up that he cares about you–not again. It makes you wince. “I promise you did. And if, somehow, you’re right, he must’ve been scared for Kate. Maybe he has a crush on her, or something, who knows.”

He tuts, standing now as well, a disbelieving hint in his tone. “A crush?”

You shrug, crouching down to dig through your bag for clothes to change into, grimacing at the burn in your legs. “Yeah. You’ve seen how he is with her. I’m sure he’s writing their names together in little hearts. I mean, can you blame him?” You can’t stop the bitter edge to your words.

It’s silent for a moment as he watches you with concern. “Okay, no more of that.” He stands in front of you, arms crossed, waiting for you to look up at him. When you don’t, he crouches down as well, getting directly into your line of sight. “Hey.” It’s sharper than before.

You sigh deeply and roll your eyes, looking up at him. “What?”

“Stop. I’m serious. Nobody is mad and Scott was scared for you. I’m not just guessing, I’m not just trying to make you feel better, those are facts.”

“How can you possibly know that, Javi?” Your voice rises in both pitch and volume.

“Because he told me,” he says your name with finality.

You scrunch your brows together, shaking your head. His words sit between you for a moment, then, before you can stop yourself, “What did he say?”

He takes a breath, his tone softer when he says, “When we saw the storm forming on radar, we decided to chase it. We knew you and Kate were both tired and upset so we wanted to let you rest. As it grew and shifted paths, I freaked out, told everyone that you and Kate were staying in Stillwater–right where it was headed. We tried to call you, but the cell towers were down… when I told him that, he got more mad than I have ever seen him. Started yelling, saying we shouldn’t have let you go off on your own, told me that if anything happened to you it would be on him and he wouldn’t be able to live with that.” He lets you process the words for a beat, clenching his jaw, before adding, his voice barely above a whisper, “He never mentioned Kate once.”

Your breath catches in your chest and your ears feel like they’re ringing. “He– I–... He yelled at me. When he got there, after, he was pissed! And then he started yelling at the paramedic and at Tyler because I was in shock…” You trail off and shake your head once again. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging the heels of your hands into them. “No. No. You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about that?” You can hear the hint of frustration layered under the genuine question.

You snap your hands back down to your lap, tilting your head accusingly. “I don’t know, Javi! Why would you?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Look, I get this has been a very difficult 24 hours for you, and I’m sorry about everything that’s happened. But I know that you know I have no reason to lie to you–especially not about this.” He slowly stands and you track him with your still narrowed eyes. “I’m going to give you some time to think about what I said, all right?”

You keep your eyes locked on him for a beat, your breathing more ragged than before, before nodding too quickly, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just think about what I said, yeah?” He’s back to using his soft tone–the one he uses when he can tell you need a friend, not a boss. You give him another nod and he steps around your bag, giving your shoulder one more gentle squeeze on his way out. 

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you can feel the burn in the back of your eyes and lump in your throat. You didn’t cry at all yesterday. Not over the argument, not over the aftermath of the Crystal Springs tornado, not even after the tornado at the rodeo. The one that–by all reasoning you can think of–should’ve killed you.

You try to swallow down the lump and squeeze your eyes shut, but it’s really no surprise the tears are suddenly streaming down your face with a choked sob–hot and impossible to stop. You take a deep, shuddering breath, pressing a hand to the middle of your chest as if that will help you take in more air.

You continue to sit on the floor for a few minutes, letting yourself break down. Every ragged breath and salty tear on your lips is another reminder of the fact that you’re alive.

Once your breathing finally starts to even out again and the tears slow to a more manageable pace, you gather your clothes and push yourself off the floor, groaning at the way every muscle in your body seems to protest. You make your way into the bathroom, and your first look in the mirror is like a shock to your system.

You look like shit. Your hair is a mess, the bags under your eyes are a deep purple, and your body is littered in cuts and bruises. You barely even recognize yourself…

The hot water of the shower does wonders for your aches–enough that you forgive the stinging of the cuts. You stand under the weak stream until it runs cold, and by the time you step out, you feel just a little less hollow than you have in almost 24 hours. 

You get changed into a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt, brush through your hair, and slide on your shoes. At the door, you pause with your hand on the handle to take a deep breath and give yourself a sharp nod before opening it. The immediate difference in brightness has you squinting as the sun hits your face, but you bask in the warmth for a moment. 

“Hey, there she is!” Peter calls, snapping you out of your moment of relaxation. 

You open your eyes to find the rest of the team in the parking lot, seemingly doing a more thorough lookover on Lion, now all focused on you. You give them a small, closed smile and force one foot in front of the other before you can talk yourself out of it. 

Javi pulls you in for a side hug when you approach him, leaning close enough to mutter so only you can hear, “You feel better?”

You give him a small, almost imperceptible nod before pulling away and straightening up. “What’s the damage?”

“Surpisingly, it’s all cosmetic!” He says, clapping his hands together once and moving to the front of the truck that looks even more banged up in the daylight. “Everything’s fully functional. We’re not even gonna bother with a body shop right now–not when there’s still so much of the season left.”

You nod, looking over the truck as the others go back to their own conversations. The hood is dented and it’s covered in mud, but all of the equipment is intact. You take what feels like your first real deep breath since before the rodeo. 

Your focus is pulled from the truck when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You turn around to find Scott standing closer than usual, arms crossed over his chest. “Can we talk?” He nods once to the side, gesturing somewhere more private.

You pause, then stumble over your words. “Oh–uh, yeah, sure.”

He starts walking and your brain takes a second to catch up with the action before you’re following him. He stops once he’s around the corner of the building, just out of sight from the rest of the team, then turns to face you. “They rated it an EF4.”

You look down, picking at your fingernails. “Oh.” 

He watches you for a few silent moments. “I’m…” He trails off, rubbing at his jaw, but you wave your hand before he can continue.

“You don’t have to say anything about it. The truck is fine, Kate’s fine, I’m fine. We can just move on, yeah?”

He draws his eyebrows together. “What? No, we can’t just ‘move on.’ You could have gotten hurt, Sunny.”

The nickname he rarely calls you makes you pause, but your defenses come back up in full force. “But I didn’t, did I?”

“You could have died,” he snaps, voice tight, eyes burning into yours. “Do you understand that?”

“Of course I understand that, Scott!” You snap back, throwing your arms out. “I was there. Not you,” you point at yourself and him respectively, maintaining eye contact. “So don’t lecture me on how it could’ve gone.”

He lets out a humorless laugh and looks away, shaking his head, before snapping his gaze back to yours. His eyes flash with anger. “You’re right, I wasn’t there.” He points back at you. “That’s the problem. I had to sit there and watch that thing grow on radar knowing it was heading in your direction and I couldn’t do shit about it.” He rips his hat off and runs a hand through his hair before putting it back on. “I didn’t know if you were okay–then I get there and you’re– you’re a fucking shell of a human!”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, raising your eyebrows. “Oh, you want me to believe this is concern?” You drop your arms, turning slightly away for a moment with clenched fists before turning back to him with an incredulous laugh. “That’s funny, because this seems a lot like you being pissed I became a potential liability.” You tilt your head, your tone becoming condescending. “Or is that not the story you’re trying to sell to everyone else?”

His expression hardens instantly and he takes a step forward. “Why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that people care about you–” he huffs and clenches his jaw for a beat. “That I care about you? Do you think pretending not to care makes you brave? Because, in reality, it’s just sad.”

You scoff and grit your teeth . “Maybe it’s so ‘fucking hard’ because all you do is tell me how incompetent and annoying I am. You have made it abundantly clear that you don’t want to work with me and don’t think I deserve to be here, so cut the bullshit.”

Something in his expression softens–almost unnoticeable–at that, but his tone is still just as insistent. “It’s not bullshit. And I have never called you incompetent, so don’t put words in my mouth. Okay, you’re right, I didn’t want to hire you. And yeah, I think you’re annoying sometimes. But do you seriously think I want you dead?”

“I don’t know what you want, Scott!” You feel the burn behind your eyes once again and squeeze them shut for a moment to keep the tears from falling. “Every time I think we might finally be able to work together without a screaming match, I manage to piss you off somehow and we’re back to square one.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead he looks at you–really looks at you–and seems to be turning something over in his mind. You squirm a little under his gaze. “I don’t think you’re incompetent. And I don’t think you’re a liability.” His voice is quieter, but no less firm. He takes a deep breath and chews on his bottom lip before continuing. “Look, nothing like that has happened before. Nobody on the team has been in something like that. So I don’t–” he huffs. “I don’t know how to not sound like an ass when I’m worried, okay?”

You watch him closely as he talks, trying to decide if he’s being honest or just trying to end the argument. You sit with his words for a moment, letting them sink in. He was worried. And he just admitted it. “You could try not yelling at me, for starters.”

His mouth twitches, just barely. “Noted.”

“Maybe therapy, too.” You can’t stop the corner of your mouth from lifting as you say it. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the smirk he was hiding is more visible now. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, though.” You cross your arms over your chest loosely. “I can’t keep doing this–arguing and being made to feel like I don’t belong here. I’m sure it’s not much of a threat to you, but I don’t know how much longer I can stay on this team if something doesn’t change.” You avoid his eyes, not wanting to see the confirmation that he wouldn’t care if you quit.

You’re pleasantly shocked when he says, “It’s a pretty big threat. Unfortunately, you generally seem to know what you’re doing.” The words sound physically painful for him to say.

Your eyes snap back to his, unable to hide the hopeful expression on your face. “Did you just admit that I’m useful?”

“I will never say it again.” It’s flat, which makes you chuckle. After a moment of silence that’s not heavy for once, he looks pointedly back towards the parking lot. “We should probably get back before they assume we killed each other.”

You snort, walking past him as he steps aside to let you pass. This time, walking back to the team, he falls into step with you.

Scott Miller is still a Grade A asshole.

At least now you know it’s not because he doesn’t care.