I walked through the flames with no fear of burning;

✦

   Puzzled by his statement, Abi quickly glanced down, only to find the hem of her white pussy bow blouse pulled and latched onto the jagged edge of the bar top. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his watch, too, was hooked onto the scarf of her Hermès handbag. ❝Oh, no.❞ So maybe he wasn’t lying after all; here she thought she’d be impressed by the line he had used on her. ❝Please be gentle. This,❞ gesturing to her pristine blouse, ❝is brand new. And that,❞ glancing to her bag, ❝well, it’s old and really last season but it’s my favourite.❞ she said, barely caring for his watch. Looking up so as not to look at the anticipated damage to either of her favourite things, she uttered, ❝Do it gently.❞

//

“Yeah,” Peter said simply in response to her declaration of disbelief as she finally took in their current state. He was trying not to get too jostled by the crowd around them, easy enough for a guy his size, but he also feared that she would be bumped into and her shirt or bag’s tie thing would rip. She didn’t seem the type to handle that well. Honestly, right off the bat he pegged her as a bit neurotic and maybe a bit... self-involved. Was it wrong to judge her from two seconds of listening to her? Probably, but Pete called ‘em as he saw ‘em. Still, at least she said pleased as she told him what to do.

“Hold still, hun.” Peter said, being sure to keep his caught up arm still as well as he reached around to free the fabric of her shirt with a delicacy that may have been surprising to some. His work was very physical and most people only saw the aspects of it that required brute strength- throwing and hauling hoses, kicking down doors, prying apart car wrecks- but Peter was also a trained emergency responder. Not to mention he had taken great lengths to learn how to do all the delicate and intricate braids when he first adopted Samantha. Looking over the freed hem, Pete didn’t see any obvious damage and therefore offered the woman a proud grin. “Your turn. I can’t see where I’m hooked on that tie thing without twisting my wrist all around.” He informed her.

@rivalsofnycstarters​

✦

   ❝Okay, I’ll bite–❞ Abigail sighed, her attention wholly honed in on the mobile in her hand. 

    All she wanted was a second or two for a drink to cool down from her flight back into New York. She just hadn’t quite decided whether or not she liked their disruptive tone. Matched with a highly annoyed eye roll, she might as well give them whatever time of day they wanted from her.  Finally tearing her gaze away from her beloved phone, her flickered gaze met the other’s eyes.

   ❝What is it?❞

//

Looking at the woman so enraptured by whatever was on her phone, Peter quickly determined exactly why they both found themselves in the situation that they were currently in. Distraction, plain and simple. “I was just wanting to let ya know that your shirt is caught on that and I think my watch is somehow caught on your bag.” Peter explained. The place was crowded and quarters were tight so all it took was for them both to be distracted, him by trying to get a drink, and her by her phone, for them to end up in this entanglement. “Don’t move and I’ll unhook ya from that, but I think you’re gonna have to free me from your bag’s apparent great taste in watches.”

Wednesday seemed to be the only day she could do laundry. No one had sent her text messages, she didn’t have a shift at the station. She sat in the other corner of the laundromat with a book in her hand when she heard a familiar voice, her eyes lifting up from the pages to land on the male she worked along side during some shifts. She couldn’t stop the little smirk from coming along her lips as she placed her bookmark in between the pages and shut the book. She pressed her lips together to keep herself from chuckling, a whole new side of the male she didn’t see very often. “Peter,” she cleared her throat. “You sure know how to entertain yourself doin’ laundry.”

Deciding to just own the moment of being caught being a goofball, Peter tossed the laundry pod in his hand up and down a couple of times as he smiled over at the more-than-familiar woman who had all but snuck up on him. “More like I gotta find ways to entertain that monster.” Peter countered, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Sam who was watching them with open curiosity, offering a small wave. Though Pete wasn’t one to talk about his daughter to hook ups or strangers, Cami was someone that was a part of his life on several levels. Sammy wasn’t going to be a secret to her. Additionally, she had proven to not be the kind of person that he would need to hide from Sam. “Laundry day ain’t the most fun for an eight-year-old, oddly enough.” He said with a chuckle before reaching out and tapping her book. “I guess your way of entertaining yourself in here is a lot less intrusive to your fellow laundry-doers.”

“Shit, are you okay?” Peter asked, quickly reaching to grab the elbow of the woman how had just stumbled on the curb. He pulled her back, trying to steady her and immediately looking down at the ankle it looked like she had rolled, or at least had almost done so. “Everything about this city tries to chew you up, I swear to God.” He commented with a chuckle, blue eyes quickly scanning her face for a hint of pain. “You good? Does it hurt or just a close call?”

“I think if we both rush the turnstile at once, one of us will make it without being body slammed by a rent-a-cop.” Peter commented to the woman who was stood next to him, both of them stuck in the quickly forming line due to the malfunction at the subway turnstile. “How’s your hurdling skills? Run any track in high school or college?” 

-

Usually Ana avoided talking to men while being in gym. Everybody knows how it usually goes with women in leggings and desperate men trying to start a conversation. However the genuine tone in the man’s voice that sat next to her, making the weight on the bench shift, gave Ana hope that she is wrong and this won’t be one of the usual conversations. “Thank you.” She gave him a nod, bringing the bottle to her lips once again and watering down her dry throat, her eyes rested in front of her as she travelled with her gaze around the room.

His next words, however, made her divert her eyes in his direction. She took time to look him up and down. Clearly the man had some expertise or life-long experience, seeing his refined muscles and strong physique. Then her eyes came back up to his face and right away to the boxing bag before returning to the man as she let his words settle in. “It’s a hobby” She explained briefly. “I’m just trying to get back on what I missed.” She leaned with her body forward to rest her elbows on her knees before continuing. “I got too lazy and now…” she furrowed her eyebrows, looking down on her scar as if she saw it for the first time, “now I can’t keep up with myself, it looks like.” She let out a chuckle, giving the man a side look before turning her head in his direction. 

“You’re a trainer or something? Or physiatrist?” She mused, thinking that would be the reason for his professional opinion. “Although, to be honest you look more like the first one to me. Not that physiatrist couldn’t be ripped, but you know, they usually aren’t..as much.” 

//

Seeing that his presence wasn’t openly unwanted by the woman, Peter settled more comfortably onto the bench and nodded at her thanks. He wasn’t just throwing her a line, the woman genuinely had some fire. It was easy to see. As expected, his comment about her pushing too hard got a reaction out of the woman, though that wasn’t as defensive or annoyed as he had expected it to be either. It seemed as if she was actually thinking about what he said. “I get that, but you can’t make up time by rushing it.” He reasoned.

When her eyes darted down to her scar, Peter’s followed for a moment until he pulled his gaze back to her face, meeting her eyes once again when she returned them to him as well. Her guesses as to his career had a chuckle falling from his lips, the man running a hand over his head as she shook it. “Neither, but great guesses.” He told her, dropping his hands to clasp as his elbows rested on his knees. Way back in the day the thought of being a personal fitness trainer had crossed his mind, but it was never fulfilling enough of a career path for his need to serve his community, wherever that community was. “I’m a firefighter actually. My unrequested opinion just comes from years of loving the gym and years of getting random injuries that kept me out of it.” He explained. “Felt like I was going crazy by the third day, by the fifth I was willing to just suffer time and time again as long as it meant I didn’t have to sit around any longer.”

@rivalsofnycstarters​

Grunts and heavy punches echoed throughout the room. Ana’s hands curled up in fists and wrapped in bandages were swinging around, hitting the boxing bag like the object was responsible for every of Ana’s current problems. And in such way she was letting out the stress and anger that got too comfortable in her chest and joined it with the exercise she so desperately needed after weeks spent just lying around on her couch and healing.

It was apparent her body got lazy with the sweat appearing on her forehead and chest as she moved around swiftly, ducking, covering and hitting the bag with any combination her preoccupied mind could come up with. And even though her mind would continue with her workout routine, her body and recent injury refused to cooperate and soon she delivered a final punch before she relaxed her hands, letting them drop to her side and was forced to sit down on a bench at the side of the gym. She exhaled deeply, regaining her breath as she stretched her leg with a visible gun shot scar on it and grabbed a bottle of water from her bag, taking couple of gulps. Her eyes were briefly scanning the other people working out before her gaze turned to her side, where she sensed someone joining her on the bench. 

//

Though Peter tended to take advantage of the firehouse’s gym more often than not, there were times when he needed a good work out without his buddies jeering or challenging him and one another around him the whole time. Sometimes he just needed to pick shit up and put them down and zone out into the space in his mind saved for the physical exertion of stress. He had found that zone and thought he was deep enough in that zone, when a few strained female grunts had his attention pulled elsewhere. At first, a slight wave of annoyance washed over him as there was nothing more irritating that a loud gym-goer, but as he watched the woman throw a few tight punches, that annoyance faded into curiosity and concern.

It was good that she stopped when she did, saving Peter from the awkwardness of going over and suggesting that she do so. She looked to be only a few good swings away from tearing or straining a muscle. It was obvious that her body was familiar with the form needed to put controlled power behind striking the bag, but the physicality of that power was lacking. He’d bet she was bouncing back from an injury, having been there many times himself. Grabbing his own water bottle, Pete made his way over to the woman, not being able to fight of his concerned nature even if he bothered to try and took a careful seat next to her. “That was impressive.” He offered out first, trying his best not to completely bulldoze and ‘dad-lecture’ her to death like his fire fighters often gave him shit for doing to them and anyone else within a mile radius. He didn’t miss the scar and wondered just how often this woman found herself on the wrong side of major injuries. “You’re pushing too hard though. It’s obvious you’re a fighter, or have at least been trained to throw a punch and throw it well, but you push too hard and you’re gonna kill all your progress healing whatever it is you hurt.” He advised, more than aware that it might not be welcome.

@rivalsofnycstarters​

Piece of shit car. She’d just dropped over a grand to fix the many problems her car had. With a trip out of town planned, she expected that it would hold up better now that the mechanic had given her the all go. What she hadn’t accounted for was the fucking nail in the road that had given her a slow leak which she only noticed because someone had flagged her down. Now, she sat on the edge of the car waiting for someone to come help after she’d sent out a text to her entire contact list. Lifting dark hues as a car approached, an hand extended to flag them down while the other disappeared around her back to pull her shirt away from the gun that was tucked into her back. One could never be too careful.

//

It was lucky that Peter was on his way into a shift rather than leaving it and trying not to leave Dakota to wrangle his daughter alone any longer when he spotted a car on the side of the road, assumedly broken down, and a woman waving down bypassers to boot. It was a concerning sight, given the crime rate in the city, and the fire Lieutenant wasted no time in pulling his truck up behind the stranded vehicle. “You need me to call a tow?” He asked, approaching slowly as not to startle her, happy he at least had a t-shirt with his station’s emblem emblazoned on the breast and back of it. It wasn’t any official identification, but he hoped it meant that she’d trust his intentions were good, not that she look the type who scared easy.

“Or take a look? If it’s something minor, I might be able to help but-” He paused as he spotted the deflated tire her car was sitting on. “You got a spare or a patch kit? If so, I can definitely help with that. Got a jack and an air compressor in my truck bed.” Peter explained with a kind smile.

open starter / @rivalsofnycstarters​

With the first chance to slip away from the devils stomping grounds. While it was a place he felt the most comfortable throughout the city, it wasn’t exactly where he had wanted to be recently with what had happened. Most would probably think coming together was exactly what was needed and sure, he could agree it was, but with his frustration towards it and having to stand idly by - that just never went well for Adriel. He was about ready to pick a fight with some random idiot off the street just to let off some steam - that and so he wouldn’t go letting it off on someone within the club, even if some low prospect could use a good kick in the ass. Stepping out of the small shop just half a block from moonlight, newly bought pack of cigarettes in hand he worked on picking one from the box. Shoving the rest away as he began walking back in the direction of the club, although he had yet to decide if he was actually returning or busying himself up another way. The sound of his name ( or something to catch his attention ) coming from behind him had him snapping the word loudly before he could even turn around. “What?” Mostly because as big as the city was, it was still somehow so fucking small.

        𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒  the nearing frame, attention obviously drifting from the voice flowing out of her phone. it was only a matter of time, honestly, they were irritating her long before the other drew closer. ❝ figure it out. ❞ mona lets out sharply, lifting the phone further up towards her lips. ❝ and don’t you dare call my mother, she’s too busy for your incompetence. ❞ the girl adds, leaving no room for an answer what with the sudden ending of the call.

                              ❝ where you looking for me or is this a coincidence ?? ❞ 

@rivalsofnycstarters​

It was the snippy tone that had caught Peter’s attention and it turned out that the owner of the tone looked just as displeased as she sounded. As she addressed him, apparently having put a rather abrupt end to her phone call, Pete held up the hand that was caring a party-size container of hot coffee up in surrender. “Given that I don’t think we’ve met, and that you kind of scare me, I’m going to go with neither and maybe back away slowly.” He replied to the woman’s questio, a small placating smile on his lips.