β Scribed by Michael, Sean
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
He wasn't in the fucking mood for this.
Marshall headed up the stairs of Murphy's, still smelling of smoke and cinders. He had reports to file, training. Not to mention he needed a fucking nap. The guys only got together once a year, though, and Kerry never fucking failed to call and invite him. "Come on down," he said. "Even if you can't make the game. See the guys from the team. Have a beer."
Yeah. Yeah.
Why it had to come on the day after the worst nights of fires he'd had in his career, he didn't know.
A cheer went up as he came in, the guys all lifting their beers in a toast to him.
He nodded, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck. "Boys."
One beer.
One beer and he'd go home.
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