Archive of Our Own ^beta

Because they were working on Halloween, it was decided that the 118 would throw a Halloween party for themselves at the station – despite most likely not getting to enjoy it due the sheer volume of calls they were sure to get. Hen and Chimney (but mostly Hen) were on decorating duty, Eddie was in charge of drinks, and Bobby and Buck were on food, as they so often were. Buck had taken over the savory portion of the menu, making mummies out of puff pastry and hot dogs and Jack O’ Lantern empanadas and was now keeping Bobby company while the older man made the treats.

The kitchen smelled wonderful as he had cooked, but now it was positively delightful; a mix of cinnamon, pumpkin, apples, and caramel. His mouth watered and he shifted where he sat, creeping one hand up the counter sneakily. Bobby watched him snatch one of the pumpkin snickerdoodles off the wax paper, but didn’t say anything it was well into his mouth, crumbs running down his chest.

“Is it good?”

“Uh-huh,” Buck said. He took another bite and asked, “More cookie?”

“Just the one,” Bobby said. “There’s a lot more treats for you to try.”

“I getta try all o’ them?”

“Mhm,” Bobby said. He paused in stirring what would eventually be homemade caramel to look at Buck thoughtfully. “Unless you don’t want to be my taste tester. I guess I can always ask Athena.”

“No! No, I test,” Buck said quickly. “’M a real good tester, Bobby. I-I do it, ‘kay?”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Bobby said, hiding his smile.

Buck beamed up at him, watching as the man took up stirring the pot again. He wasn’t allowed to sit any closer than he already was when he was feeling like he did or else he’d have been right at his side helping to make the caramel. Instead, he was playing with a truck that Athena had bought him and his faithful companion Teddy, providing moral support to the man.

“Bobby?” Buck asked as he rammed the truck into the counter for the thousandth time. “Can-Can Teddy come to our party ‘morrow?”

“Yes, but he can’t come on calls.”

“He needs a costume,” Buck said, pushing his fingers in his mouth. “Can he be a ghostie like me?”

“Fingers out,” Bobby said, noticing the pointer and middle fingers making their way past his lips. “And I don’t see why not. We’ll get him a costume tonight.”

“And can he have a cookie?”

Bobby laughed, “A pretend one, sure.”

Buck pouted and bounced Teddy in front of him. “Teddy only likes real cookies, Bobby.”

“I think you’re the one who likes real cookies,” Bobby said. “Go get your chu-chu and then come back. When the caramel for the apples is done, you can taste it.”

“A whole caramel apple?” Buck asked with wide eyes.

“You can have the whole apple,” Bobby said. “But not a whole thing of caramel.”

Buck pouted all the way to his room and back, the pacifier he’d found in his sheets threatening to fall from his lips due to his pouting lips. He came and plopped back down on the ground, two feet away from the oven and looked up at Bobby adoringly. After he tried the caramel apple, Bobby was going to have to try to convince him to nap, which might be hard enough on a normal day, but after an afternoon of sugar it was going to be damn near impossible.

When the caramel was done, Buck moved from floor to table, babbling on to Bobby about the show that he’d been watching earlier that day. He’d started getting really into the How It’s made show and any time Bobby wasn’t around to watch with him, Buck would take note to tell him what he’d missed. Bobby hummed in all the right places as he poured some of the runny caramel into a dish, having already cut up the apple thanks to the handy dandy apple corer he had stashed in a kitchen drawer. Buck bounced excitedly in his seat, happily reaching out for the plate as Bobbby set it down.

“It’s hot,” Bobby warned.

“Apples aren’t hot, Bobby,” Buck said. “You didn’t cook ‘em.”

“I meant the caramel,” Bobby said, rolling his eyes.

Bobby sat down across from him without a plate of his own and watched with a smile as Buck ate his treat, carefully trying to ration out the caramel so he’d have enough for all of the apple slices. He watched as Buck dipped the apples, then sucked it all off the end of the apple before finally eating the fruit. His hands were covered in the sticky candy and juice from the apples, but he didn’t seem to mind it. Since the tsunami, Buck had learned to live with dirty, sticky hands no matter how uncomfortable. For now, Bobby would let him be, but the moment he finished eating, he’d attach the hands with a wet washcloth and then scrub his chin and cheeks clean, too.

“Here go,” Buck said, holding out one of the last apple slices to Bobby. There was a healthy dollop of caramel on top. “You gotta taste too, Bobby. I say it’s real good, but you have the gooder taste buds.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” Bobby said.

He took the apple from Buck and popped the whole thing in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. The caramel was good, almost cloyingly sweet which Bobby had expected considering it was just sugar. This first pot of it would be set aside just for Buck, who’d need to dip his apples instead of eat them straight off a stick and the next pot he’d use for making actual caramel apples for the rest of the team. Bobby had to admit that the treat tasted even better when it was being offered from his boy.

“Bobby? Will we have candy ‘morrow?”

“You want candy in addition to the caramel apples, cookies, and brownies I made?”

“Uh-huh,” Buck said. He started to lick the stickiness off the palms of his hands, having eaten the last apple with what remained of the caramel.

Bobby stood up and grabbed a washcloth, dampening it under the sink quickly before coming over and taking his kid’s hands, cleaning them thoroughly.

“Don’t you think that’s a lot of sugar?” Bobby asked.

“Halloween though,” Buck said. “Gotta have candy on Halloween, Bobby. Them’s the rules, right? I wanna do the holiday right.”

Bobby wiped at his face, then threw the rag on the table and sat down, drawing Buck into a long embrace. He sent silent curses to God above for having given Buck to parents who didn’t deserve him and then thankful prayers for bringing the kid to him.

“We’ll have so much candy tomorrow that our bellies will hurt until the New Year,” Bobby promised.

“Kay,” Buck giggled. “Maybe not that much candy, Bobby. My tummy’s gotta be empty for Thanksgiving.”

Buck grinned at him and Bobby rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss right to his birthmark and then stuck his pacifier in his mouth before he could get anymore fingers in his mouth. Today, he’d get the kid to eat a few more vegetables and then tomorrow, he’d fill his belly with treats morning, noon, and night. It was Halloween and those were the rules after all.