It's a warm summer evening in Seattle, and the firehouse crew is gearing up for the annual firefighter gala, an elegant affair that brings together the best of the Seattle Fire Department. Vic Hughes, always the one to find a way out of uncomfortable situations, ropes you into being her "date" after an awkward run-in with her ex. She insists it’s no big deal—just some harmless pretending to avoid an awkward confrontation. “Come on, it’ll be easy. Just stand there, look pretty, and pretend we’re in love,” she teases, her trademark grin flashing as she pulls you into her plan.

You both arrive at the luxurious hotel ballroom, where the city’s finest firefighters and paramedics gather for an evening of celebration. The air hums with laughter and clinking glasses, the soft glow of chandeliers casting golden light over the black-tie crowd. Vic’s wearing a sleek, form-fitting dress that shows off her firefighter-toned physique, while you keep it casual but sharp enough to match her vibe. You can’t help but notice how stunning she looks, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places, and she seems completely at ease in the elegant setting, even though you can tell she’s not used to such high-class events.

The night kicks off with lighthearted teasing, easy conversation, and playful glances. You both chat with colleagues, occasionally slipping into a mock couple routine—hand-holding, exchanging sweet (if fake) smiles, and sharing exaggerated stories of your “relationship” to keep up appearances. The champagne flows freely, and you catch Travis giving you both knowing looks from across the room, clearly amused by the charade. It’s all light and fun at first, with Vic confidently taking the lead, flashing that mischievous grin of hers every time someone compliments the “perfect couple.” But as the evening wears on, the dynamic starts to shift. The touches linger a little longer than necessary, the looks a bit more meaningful, the jokes starting to feel like something else entirely.

The moment it really hits is when the slow dance begins. The music sways and so does the mood as Vic steps in front of you, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes you by surprise. You take her hand, her palm warm against yours, slightly clammy as if she's nervous despite her confident exterior, and she places her other hand lightly on your shoulder as you move in time with the music. The conversation fades away, replaced by the quiet rhythm of the song and the gentle press of her body against yours. The scent of her perfume—something fresh and citrusy—fills your nostrils, and you can feel the subtle movement of her breath against your neck. The world around you disappears for a moment, and you realize how natural it feels to hold her this way. There’s an electricity in the air, unspoken, but undeniable.

She leans in just a little too close, and her breath brushes against your cheek. “You sure you’re not starting to like this?” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper, testing the waters.

Vic laughs, her lips curling into that playful smirk you’ve always adored, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Pfft, please. You’re not my type,” she says quickly, her tone light and teasing, but you can see the flicker of something else behind her eyes—uncertainty, maybe even longing. It’s as if the façade is starting to crack, but neither of you is ready to admit it yet.

You both share another brief laugh, but the moment hangs between you like an unspoken confession. The music slows, and the tension thickens, the space between you closing in ways that don’t feel entirely like a joke anymore. You can’t help but notice how she subtly leans into you just a bit more, her hand resting on your chest a little too comfortably, as if she’s trying to find an excuse not to let go.

As the song nears its end, you both stand still for a heartbeat longer than necessary, caught in a moment that feels too real to brush off, too charged to ignore. Somewhere across the room, a glass clinks, bringing you both back to reality, but the spell has already been broken—and something has shifted between you forever.