Forty-eight hour shifts on the Vegas Strip were painfully monotonous. Just like every other weekend, I knew this one would be busy. I was sure to be running from call to call all night. I'd be lucky to get dinner in, I supposed.
I was checking out my rescue, when she called.
Sara, a long-time friend, was headed into town. Tonight. We'd met at the Crazy Horse years before it had closed. She was bartending and I had blown my last $40 for a lap dance with "the twins." We had struck up an easy conversation, with her comping me a couple of drinks. Unable to tip her, I felt foolish and promised to return. Her eyes were skeptical as she shook her head and waved me off with her hand.
I returned the next day near lunch time, leaving her $60 and a note with my number in an envelope, but never really expected her to call. When she did, it was the beginning of a two year fuck fest. You name it, we tried it, and a lot more than once. When she left, it was abrupt, and I always wondered if she had wanted more than our deviant sexual encounters out of the relationship.
Now, almost eight years later, she was coming into town. How did she still have my number? Her voice hadn't changed. That soft, sultry, seductive voice made my heart skip a beat.
"Jason?" she asked quietly. Trying to hear over the equipment running in the background, I plugged an ear. "Jason?" she'd asked again.
"Sara," I managed to stammer out.
Instantly telling me she was heading into town for a bachelorette party and not leaving me any time to ask questions, she asked if I'd like to meet for coffee. God, I wanted to. Would have died to, had I known. I stepped out of the loud bays and, disappointed, I told her that I had just begun my shift. Certain she could hear the disappointment in my voice, her next idea came as a surprise.
"Would you like for me to come by the station?"
I thought for a moment. I hadn't had anyone at the fire station in years. I mean, a lot of the guys' girlfriends would stop by, and the occasional badge bunny, but I was one of the 'older' guys now. I could just imagine the questions.
"Fuck yes!" I heard myself say with disbelief.
I heard her small, familiar laugh that could light an entire room. I couldn't tell you about the flight details she gave me because my heart was beating through my chest. Remembering I was working, I started to tell her that I would be super busy most of the night, but she stopped me and asked if the next morning would be a better time.
I thought for a moment. Other than being exhausted and wanting sleep, the morning would be the slowest part of my shift, allowing more time to catch up. Besides, most of the guys would be asleep, and administration would be gone Saturday morning. We agreed on 0800 and were off the phone after I reminded her which station I was at. She laughed again and said, "I remember."
As I predicted, it was busy as hell all night. We ran on the drunks, the addicts, and the man down calls all night. Dispatch kept us from the station for the entire night. Our dinner consisted of some Oreos and Lorna Doones from one of the hospital break rooms. Through the night, as time permitted, I filled my partner in on Sara.
As the sun came up, I looked at my partner. His eyes bloodshot and cap pulled low, he looked like hell. I glanced in the mirror on the visor, realizing I looked no better. My scruffy face and bloodshot eyes were the witnesses to a long night. We slowly made our way back to the Station.
Still delirious from the night, I had lost track of time. As we drove around the station to pull into the bays, I noticed a sexy little thing standing near the parking gate. Whistling, my partner muttered, "Hot damn!" as I stared and whispered, "Sara."
