Origano and Basilico

It had been a tough few weeks. Andrew had been gone for days. If it hadn’t been for a few short texts in response to Carina’s increasingly desperate messages, they would have called the police. Carina struggled. She threw herself into her work, keeping herself busy. Maya and her friends rallied around – supporting her as much as they could. When Andrew finally came home, he was distant. Detached. A shadow of himself.

So when Carina showed up at the fire station a few weeks later, Maya’s stomach dropped. Her team had just been teasing her about how flustered she got around Carina when they noticed her standing at the entrance.

Immediately, Maya’s expression shifted. “Carina?”

The teasing stopped. Travis, Jack, and Vic exchanged glances before making themselves scarce. Maya didn’t wait, ushering Carina into the nearby storeroom for some privacy, her heart pounding. “What’s wrong? Is it Andrew?”

Carina let out a breath, a slow, gentle smile spread across her face, filled with quiet hope Maya hadn’t seen in weeks. She gathered Maya’s trembling hands in hers. “He’s agreed to get help.” 

Maya felt her chest loosen, her shoulders sagging with relief. “Oh, thank God.” 

Carina exhaled a laugh, squeezing Maya’s hands gently, her eyes shining. “I—I didn’t think he would. But we all talked to him. Meredith, me, Richard. He’s agreed. He’s finally listening.”

Maya let out a deep breath, mirroring Carina’s hopeful smile. “Carina, that’s amazing.”

Carina wiped at her eyes, laughing softly. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Maya. I really mean that.”

Maya felt something in her crack open. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand cupping Carina’s cheek, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. Carina’s breath hitched, her gaze burning into Maya’s, her expression soft, expectant. For a second, the world outside faded. Then Carina leaned into the touch, her fingers curling around Maya’s wrist.

It would be so easy to close the space between them, but this moment wasn’t hers to take. It was Carina’s — about Andrew, about relief.

She dropped her gaze and gently pulled away, clearing her throat. “So… what’s the plan?”

Carina exhaled, her gaze steady. “We take it one day at a time.”

Maya nodded in agreement, an encouraging smile tugging at her lips, “One day at a time.” 

Andy and Ben were going over the staff rota in the reception area when Maya stepped out of the storeroom with Carina. Andy arched an eyebrow in amusement. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ben shot her a quick, deliberate look. Not now.

He walked over to greet them with an easy smile, “Carina. What brings you to the hallowed ground of Station 19?” He gave her a knowing look, underlying concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

Carina nodded, a grin spreading across her face, “Si, Ben,” she exhaled softly, her eyes shimmering, “Today is a good day.” 

Maya felt for Carina’s hand instinctively, their fingers intertwining, comforting, reassuring. “Andrea has agreed to get help.”

Ben let out a relieved breath, his grin widening, “Carina. That’s great news!” His words were simple, but his expression was one of empathy and understanding.

“Oh, Carina. I’m so pleased to hear that.” Andy smiled, wandering over to join them. “I know it’s been a tough few months for you guys.” 

She placed her hand on Carina’s arm and nodded toward the stairs. “Hey, we’re heading up for lunch soon. You’re welcome to join us, if you’ve got time?”

Carina’s eyes flicked to Maya, who gave her a small, encouraging nod.

Carina tilted her head, offering Andy a grateful smile. “Grazie, Captain Herrera. I’d like that.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried it yet.” Maya snorted, squeezing Carina’s hand—quietly delighted at the chance to spend more time with her. “The only herbs you’ll find in the Station 19 kitchen are dried ‘mixed’ herbs.”

Carina chuckled, nudging her playfully. “Ma-ya, I’m sure that’s not true.” She glanced between Ben and Andy for reassurance, her eyes narrowing suspiciously when they shrugged, looking a little too guilty.

“Mamma mia!” Carina let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “Firefighters!”

“Yep.” Andy agreed sheepishly, “We may be first responders but when it comes to cooking, we’re the ones who need rescuing.”

Carina tutted, shaking her head before giving Maya an indulgent smile, her thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand, soft, effortless.

Maya’s stomach flipped.

“Well,” Andy smirked, waggling her eyebrows mischievously, “while Jack warms up the turkey twizzlers and potato waffles...” Carina pouted, unimpressed, “Why don’t you give Carina a tour, Lieutenant Bishop?”

Carina turned to Maya, her expression softening, a shy smile playing at her lips, brown eyes steady, filled with quiet anticipation. Maya’s heart stuttered. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Ben raised an amused eyebrow, clearing his throat, 

“So, Captain Herrera,” he said, throwing Andy a pointed look, “about those staff schedules.” 

“Schedules?” She smirked, letting out an exaggerated breath as she backed away. “Oh, yeah. Right. Schedules. Better get back to them.”

She grabbed Ben by the arm, dragging him toward the reception desk.

Maya rolled her eyes, but the telltale prickle of a blush was already creeping up her neck.

***

Maya hadn’t expected Carina’s genuine delight at getting her own behind-the-scenes tour of Station 19. There was a childlike curiosity in her enthusiasm that Maya found completely endearing.

She climbed into the cab of Ladder 19, her eyes wide, her fingers curling around the large steering wheel. She lingered in the back of their PRT car, mouth agape as she appraised the hi-tech medical equipment and peered in drawers filled with dressings, medication and other supplies. 

She wanted to know everything—how the station ran day-to-day, the types of calls they responded to, what they did between emergencies.

Maya was already proud to be a firefighter, but with every thoughtful question, every impressed gasp, every excited nod from Carina, she felt that pride swell even more.

“So, this is the equipment room,” Maya explained, leading Carina inside. Their turnouts, helmets, and boots in precise, ordered rows, the back wall stacked with neatly coiled hose reels. Maya leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching as Carina wandered slowly through the space. She moved with methodical curiosity, her fingers brushing over the heavy fabric of the uniforms, her expression almost reverent.

Carina’s eyes widened as she rubbed the sleeve of one of the jackets between her fingers.

“These feel…” She glanced over at Maya, puffing out a quick breath. “Heavy!”

Maya snorted, pushing off the wall and stepping toward her. “They are heavy.” She stopped just in front of her—close. “Forty-five pounds heavy. Seventy-five with breathing apparatus.”

Carina’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” Maya smirked, gripping the bar of the turnout cage. “That’s why we have to be so fit.”

She caught it then—Carina’s eyes flicking, just briefly, to her flexed bicep. Then locked back on hers. Steady. Dark. Intense. She blinked slowly, her teeth catching on her bottom lip, and Maya felt the pull – like a magnet.

And then— Carina turned on her heels, slipping away. Leaving Maya standing there, breathless.

She stopped in front of one of the stalls, glancing at Maya, raising a playful eyebrow—seeking permission. Her eyes sparkled, teasing. Maya chuckled, nodding.

Carina reached up slowly, lifting one of the helmets from the shelf with careful hands. She turned it over, her fingers lightly tracing the badge, the rim, the worn surface. Then, with a mischievous grin, she set it on her head. She turned to face Maya, her grin widening—genuine delight lighting up her eyes.

Maya bit the inside of her cheek. No one should look that adorable in her firefighter helmet.

The Beanery was the final stop on their tour.

By the time they arrived, Jack was already ladling out his trademark chili, the room humming with the chatter of hungry firefighters, the clink of cutlery and glasses.

Ben spotted them first, waving them over, and the team quickly chimed in with their greetings, shuffling to make space at the table.

Maya settled across from Carina, who was wedged between Vic and Travis—who were bickering over the grated cheese.

Maya knew her team could be a lot—boisterous, loud, teasing. So she found herself feeling unexpectedly protective of Carina, her gaze flicking up now and then to check on her, offering an encouraging smile when their eyes met.

She needn’t have worried.

The tightness in her chest eased as she watched Carina’s posture relax, the crinkle of amusement in her eyes, the way her hands and arms animated every sentence as she held her own amidst the teasing and banter.

“Jack,” Carina pointed at her chili with her fork as she finished chewing, “this chili is good! The right amount of heat. And fresh tomatoes, yes?”

Jack beamed as he nodded, his cheeks flushing at the compliment, while his teammates immediately heckled him.

“Hey! Be nice, guys!” He waved them off, grinning. “From what I’ve heard, Carina knows what she’s talking about.”

He turned to Maya and waggled his eyebrows, earning a round of cheers from the table.

“If we behave, maybe we can persuade Carina to sub in for Maya on the cooking rota.”

Maya gasped dramatically, “Rude!”

Carina laughed, reaching across the table to pat Maya’s hand, her voice full of mock sympathy, “Awww, poverina.” (poor little thing).

“Sorry, Bishop.” Jack fluttered his eyelashes at Maya before turning to Carina with a stage whisper. “Help us. Please.”

He mimed writing on an invisible notepad. “Thursday. Make a note.” Then, with an exaggerated wink, he slid the ‘notepad’ toward her.

Maya groaned, rolling her eyes as the whole crew burst into laughter.

By the time lunch ended, Carina had effortlessly charmed the whole team—sealed with the promise of home-baked lasagna (on Thursday).

Maya walked her back to reception, a quiet pang settling in her chest. She didn’t want this to end. Something light. Something significant. Something deeper.

When they reached the door, they hesitated, their gazes lingering. Maya saw it then—the same reluctance, the same unspoken thought passing between them. As if the lightness and joy of the last hour would dissolve the second Carina stepped outside.

The air hung heavy with everything unsaid. A reluctance to say goodbye. Hopefulness for Andrew’s recovery. Gratitude for the joy friends can bring. And something deeper— connection, affection, possibilities.

So achingly close. Yet just out of reach.

Carina was the one to break the moment, tearing her eyes away first. She gave Maya a soft smile—the kind that said everything without saying anything at all.

Thank you. I needed this.

She turned to go.

“Wait!”

Maya’s fingers found Carina’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Carina turned back, expectant, her eyes flickering with relief. 

Maya swallowed hard. Heart racing. Panicking. 

Because she hadn’t thought this far ahead. 

She just knew she didn’t want Carina to leave.

“Coffee!” she blurted.

Carina’s eyes widened, one brow lifting.

“Scusi?” Her voice was teasing, amused. Waiting.

Maya exhaled sharply, her thumb brushing absently over Carina’s wrist. Where the hell was that station tour confidence now?

“Can I take you out for coffee?” She winced, then rushed to clarify. “Italian. Not French. Not American—wait, do Americans even produce their own coffee?” She shook her head. “Italian. Yep. That.”

Carina tilted her head, smiling—soft, a little bashful. 

“Maybe.” She shrugged, brown eyes dancing with mischief beneath long lashes.

“Call me?”

Then she was gone.

Maya stared after her.

Yep. I’m in trouble.