#chrisdiazweek2020

[firstdegreefangirl]

Chris Diaz Week Day One: Chris + Buck (anything)

Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1) (could be established relationship, could be pre-relationship, either way, they’re basically co-parenting Chris)

Word Count: 1025

Original Pub Date: 20 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here

Fun fact: Buck and I have the same favorite childhood book

“Buck! Look, they have ALL the Captain Underpants books!” He hears Chris’s excited shout from the next aisle over and rounds the endcap to look at the shelf. 

“They sure do! How many of those you think you can read in a week?” Buck laughs, watching Chris ponder his question. 

“Probably like … five! Dad says I read really fast!”  

Christopher starts pulling books off of the shelf and handing them to Buck, who adds them to the ever-growing stack in his arms.  

“I’ve seen you sitting on the couch with a book, kiddo. He’s right; those pages are lightning-fast.”  

Buck looks over his shoulder, grateful to see that there’s only one shelf left they haven’t gone through. He’s taken Chris off of Eddie’s hands for an entire Saturday of adventures, letting his best friend catch up on housework and bills, and they wound up at the local mall. Where, naturally, the first place Chris dragged him after the food court was the bookstore. He supposes it’s more exciting than an afternoon browsing through racks of clothing, and if Christopher keeps picking hardbacks like he has been, then it’ll count for a good arm workout too.  

By the time he steers Christopher over to a table in the coffee shop, Buck has 37 books in the stack. He knows, because Chris counted them as he carefully slid the tower from his arms to rest on the table.  

“Alright, well how about you start sorting them out while I grab us a couple of cocoas, and we’ll go through the rest together?”  

He nods, already pulling the books down into smaller stacks as Buck walks away. When Buck returns, holding two paper cups, the tabletop is covered in little piles.  

“That’s a lot of progress, man.” Buck laughs, sitting down across from his smaller counterpart. “You really think you can read that much?”  

“Well, maybe not all at once.” Christopher sips his cocoa, looking so serious that he reminds Buck of a haggard businessman, trying to organize the next great corporate merger.  

“Hey, don’t think too hard about it. You read fast, but I don’t think you read this fast. How about you narrow it down to two books today, and I’ll pick one out for you too, as a surprise?” He watches Christopher’s face fall just a little bit. “Besides, if we buy them all today, then we won’t have an excuse to come back another time.”  

“Yeah! That’s right, we can come back!” He perks right back up and starts rummaging through the stacks. “All of these ones have animals in them, but I have lots of animal books already. And I just started reading these books – they're about a boy whose name is Fudge!” Christopher looks up and laughs at the exaggerated confusion on Buck’s face. 

“He’s named Fudge? That’s a strange name.” 

“He’s a strange kid.” Christopher shrugs. “You can read one sometime, Bucky; you’ll see.” 

“I might have to do that.” 

“I for sure want the new Captain Underpants book.” He pulls a book from the middle of a stack and hands it to Buck. “See? This time they have to save the school from Sir Stinks-A-Lot! And … this one!” He waves the softback copy of Lunch Money in the air. “The back says it’s about a boy who writes books. And I like to read books, so I’d probably like him.” 

“Yeah? I’ll bet you would.” Buck smiles and takes the second book. “Now how about we go put the rest of these back, then I’ll pick up your surprise? I’m thinking about one of my favorite books when I was your age. Think it’d be right up your alley; maybe we can read it together when I come over sometimes.” 

“Yeah!” Christopher helps stack the books back into one big pile for Buck to carry back to the children’s section. Together, they’re able to get every extra book reshelved, and Buck grabs one extra on his way to the cash register, carefully hiding it behind his back. 

“Buuuuuuuuck! What book is it?” Christopher tries to lean around him and see, but Buck turns to keep the book concealed. 

“It’s a surprise. Quit trying to peek, you’ll see when we start reading tonight!” He sidesteps Christopher and pays for all three titles.  

 “Dad! Buck bought me three books!” They’ve no more than opened the front door when Christopher starts telling Eddie everything they’ve done today, the bookstore being the clear highlight.  

“Really? Let’s see them!”  

“I can only show you two. I don’t even know what the third one is yet, but Buck said it’s his favorite when he was in the fourth grade, and he’s going to start reading it to me tonight!” He takes the books Buck hands him and holds them out for Eddie. “Do you know his favorite book, Dad?” 

“Can’t say I do, kiddo. But maybe, if you ask him really nicely, Buck will read the first chapter to us both while I get dinner on the table.” 

“Please, Buck? Will you? Can we start reading right now?” Christopher makes his best puppy-dog eyes, which are undercut a little bit by the smile on his face. 

It’s a good thing Buck’s never been able to deny him anything. 

“Sure, we can start now. How about we go sit in the kitchen so your dad can hear too? I think he’ll like this one.” 

“What is it?” Chris clambers into the kitchen, dropping gracelessly into his chair. 

“It’s called From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.” It’s about a brother and sister who run away from home to live in a big art museum. Maddie read it to me when I was about your age, and we would talk about which museums we’d want to go live in.” 

“Dad! Can I live in a museum?” 

Eddie laughs. 

“I don’t think so, but we can go visit one sometime.” 

Christopher cheers as Buck opens the front cover. 

“Ready?” When Chris nods and ‘zips his lips,’ Buck starts reading. 

“Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away …" 

#chrisdiazweek2020 #chris diaz week 2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #christopher diaz #chris diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #katie writes #kw20 #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #buddie #9-1-1 fanfic #originalcontentfirstdegreenfangirl

[elisela]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Christopher Diaz (9-1-1) Additional Tags: Getting Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Christopher Diaz is a National  Treasure

Summary: Christopher’s week revolves around Buck.

#christopher diaz is a national treasure #chrisdiazweek2020 #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley

[chrisdiazweek]

And so it begins!!

Welcome to day one of Chris Diaz week! If you’re joining in, please tag your works with Christopher Diaz is a National Hero so that I know what to look for.

Or, if you want something a little less, chrisdiazweek2020 :)

#admin #christopher diaz is a national treasure

[firstdegreefangirl]

Chris Diaz Week Day Two: Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: None, team as a family

Word Count: 1843

Original Pub Date: 21 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here

Day Two I Day One

“Daaaaaad!” Eddie sighs when he hears his son cry out, pulling a t-shirt on as he goes down the hall and tries to smooth down his hair.

“What’s up, mijo?”He pushes the door open to see Christopher sitting up in bed, rubbing his ear against his shoulder.

“My ear hurts,” he whines, and Eddie moves forward to sit on the edge of his bed.

“I know it does. The medicine should start working in a couple days and help get the pressure down, but  until then we’ve just got to do our best and get through it. Want to try a hot rag again?”

Chris nods. “Can we sit on the couch? It hurts when I lay down.”

“Yeah, we can sit on the couch.” Eddie tries to hide his exhaustion as he passes Christopher his crutches.

It’s getting harder to act like he’s not tired, though. It’s been three days since Chris has slept through the night, and they’ve just hit a record high of … three hours, according to the superhero alarm clock on his nightstand. He knows that once they go downstairs, neither of them is going to sleep anymore tonight. At least he’s off work tomorrow, and Chris still can’t go back to school until he kicks the low-grade fever the antibiotics have yet to counteract.  

Together, they walk down the hallway, and Eddie makes sure Christopher is settled in the middle of the couch with a blanket before leaning the crutches against the coffee table.

“I’ll go get a washcloth and we’ll sit together, alright?” He waits for a nod, and heads back up the hall to soak a rag in hot water, wringing it out before he folds it in fourths and rejoins his son, who’s pulling at his ear and pouting. “Right here, buddy. Here we go.”  

Eddie sits down next to him and wraps his arm around Christopher’s shoulders, helping guide him to lean against his chest, the wet rag resting on top of his shirt.

“Hurts, Dad.”  

“I know, mijo. The steam should help, and if we point it down, the pressure might drain some.” Eddie runs his hand through Chris’s soft curls and sighing. “Close your eyes, see if you can fall asleep.”

“It hurts too much.” Chris wiggles against Eddie’s side, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Woke me up.”

“I know,” Eddie runs a hand down his face and makes his peace with another sleepless night, sitting on the couch and holding his son, hoping he’ll feel better by morning. “If it doesn’t pop by bedtime tomorrow, we’ll go back to the doctor, ‘kay?”

“Mm’kay.” Christopher pushes his face against Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie feels the tears soaking through the fabric.  

“Hey, you’ll be alright. We’ll get on the other side of this before you know it.” The words aren’t good enough; he still feels horrible that he can’t do anything more than placate his son and hold a washcloth against his head. But there’s nothing else anyone can do, no more medicines to be taken, no fatherhood magic that can suck the ear infection away before Chris’s immune system fights it off.  

So they sit, together, Eddie’s hand rubbing gently at his son’s scalp while he sniffles quietly. And they’re still there, together, when the sun comes up a few hours later.

Eddie makes it through to lunch the next day before he’s ready to give up. He’d never be upset with Christopher for needing him, ever, but he hasn’t even managed a full night of sleep over the last three combined. So after he makes sure Chris is set with a bowl of mac and cheese and Finding Dory, he drops into a kitchen chair and fires off a handful of texts.  

“Hey, Chris,” Eddie slides the empty bowl away, passing him a popsicle in the hopes of providing at least a little more hydration. “What do you say to moving the sickbed down to the station, going to visit Bobby and Chimney and Hen and Buck?”

He smiles a little and nods, but the relative lack of enthusiasm is a testament to how terrible he must feel, and Eddie’s heart breaks again. Chris turns back to the movie, while Eddie packs a small bag with snacks, a couple of books and his antibiotics.  

“Fresh PJs before we go? You don’t have to get dressed, but clean clothes might feel nice.” Chris nods again, but doesn’t make any effort to get up, so Eddie meets him back in the living room with a new set of pajamas. His movements are unwieldy and lethargic as Eddie pulls the existing shirt up over his head and helps wrangle the new one on.  “There we go, ready for pants?” Eddie helps him stand up and step from one set of bottoms to the other, then hands him his crutches and switches off the TV. “Ready?”

Another nod, and they head for the truck, Eddie following more closely behind Christopher than usual, in case he wobbles too far one way or the other and throws himself even further off balance. The drive to the station is silent, save for the occasional low whine as the truck jostles Chris over a bump.

“Sorry, mijo, you good?” He whimpers again, but nods at Eddie in the rearview mirror.  

When they’re parked and Eddie goes to lift Christopher down from his seat, he clings to his dad’s neck and wraps his legs around Eddie’s torso.  

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint.” Eddie stands back up and adjusts the backpack strap slung over one shoulder. When he opens the door, he sees Bobby waiting on the mezzanine.  

“Hey, Cap,” he calls and waves carefully, kicking the door closed behind him.

“Hey, Diaz.” Bobby comes down and joins them, brushing a hand over Christopher’s head. “Hear you’re feeling pretty crummy.”

“Yeah. My ear hurts.”  

“That’s no fun. If you’re up for watching, your buddy Buck is creaming Chimney at Mario Karts.” He looks up at that, leaning back to look at Eddie.

“Dad? C’n we watch?”

“Sure.” Eddie carries him into the lounge, settling them both on the sofa beside Buck.

“Hey, little man!” Buck looks down for a second when Christopher squirms off of Eddie’s lap to sit between them. “Bobby said you were coming ov—CHIM!” He sticks his tongue out at the other man, who’s laughing from his position in the armchair.  

“Hi, Bucky.” Christopher reaches up to tug at his ear again. “My ear hurts.”  

“Oh no! You think it’s gonna fall off?” Christopher shakes his head and laughs a little bit.

“Dad says it’ll feel better soon.”  

“Well your dad’s pretty smart, so I bet he’s right.” Buck lifts an arm up and lets Christopher curl up against his chest.  

“Yeah …" he trails off. “Are you winnin’?”

“I was, before Chimney tried to cheat with that banana peel.”

“It’s not cheating if they give me the offensive weapons!” Chimney jerks the remote up and mutters under his breath as his avatar topples off of the racetrack.  

Eddie watches a couple more rounds, but feels his eyelids growing heavy. He’s trying not to drift off, every fiber of his being telling him that he needs to stay awake in case his son needs him, but it’s a fight he’s losing quickly. He looks over to see that Christopher seems to have fallen asleep against Buck’s chest without anyone noticing, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment.  

The next thing he knows, there’s a hand clapping him on his shoulder, and he jumps, opening his eyes to see that the television screen is blank.

“Diaz.” He turns around when he hears Bobby’s voice. “Go lay down.”

“Hmm? No, I-it's fine, Cap. Just resting my eyes for a second. I’m good.”

“When did you sleep last?”

“Last night. Got a few hours, before he was up again.” Eddie shifts his weight, turning to face Bobby, and yawns.

“And before that?”

“Couple nights. Not a big deal.”

“Diaz. You’re not on duty, so I can’t make it an order, but there’s a bunk room open and you look like you could use the rest.” Bobby pulls his hand back, but keeps staring at Eddie.

“It’s fine, I’ll … I can sleep when he’s feelin’ better.” He looks over his shoulder at Chris, still passed out beside Buck, who’s now flipping through a magazine.  

“Dude, he’s fine. He hasn’t moved in close to an hour. I’ve got him.” Buck looks up and smiles, running his hand up and down Chris’s arm. “Seriously, go sleep. I’ll come find you when he wakes up.”  

“You’re sure?” He glances between Buck and Bobby.

“I’ll keep an eye on them both. Go, rest.” Bobby nudges him. “This is what we’re here for. Remember, when you don’t know where to take him, this is the answer. Besides,” He chuckles. “If Buck’s being a pillow, he’s not making any messes around here.”  

Eddie doesn’t want to give in, doesn’t want to admit that he can’t do this on his own. But the allure of sleep is too strong, and he’s too tired to argue.

“Alright, I’ll lay down for an hour.” Eddie stands up. “Seriously, come get me if he needs anything, but I’ll set an alarm.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you if we need to, but you need the rest. Listen to your body, alright?”

Eddie nods, stumbling toward the bunk room. He’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, sure that he’ll be awake again within the hour.

But when he opens his eyes, when he cracks the door of the bunk room, it’s gone dark outside. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and heads back for the lounge, changing course when he hears familiar laughter from the kitchen.

“Well look at that, Chris. It’s Sleeping Beauty.” Buck looks up when he sees Eddie approach, and Christopher turns around in his chair. He looks rested, more alert than he has since Eddie picked him up from his Abuela’s after he had to leave school early.  

“Yeah, what’s that make you? One of the fairy godmothers?” He waits for Buck to roll his eyes and bends down to kiss Chris’s head. “How’s your ear, mijo?”

“Better. Still hurts, but not as much. Bobby’s making brownies. He said you took a nap.”  

“Just a little one. So did you, right?”  

“Mhmm.” Christopher looks like he’s getting ready to speak again, but the timer goes off and he turns back toward Bobby. “Brownies?!”

“We’ll let them cool a little bit, but soon, kiddo.” Bobby sits the baking dish on top of the stove and turns around. “How you feeling, Diaz?”

“Like a new man, Cap. Seriously, thanks for keeping an eye on him. Good to know there’s people looking out.”

“What do I keep telling you? We take care of each other. And each other’s kids.” Bobby sits down across the table from Chris. “It’s a lot more fun when he’s feeling better, though.”  

#chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #911 #911 fox #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #chris diaz #evan buckley #bobby nash #chimney han #day two #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

[firstdegreefangirl]

Day Three: Eddie & Chris + Anything

Word Count: 1506

Original Pub Date: 22 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here

Day Three I Day Two I Day One 

“Alright, kiddo. There’s one thing on the list today. That’s it. What’re we shopping for?” Eddie looks down at Christopher as they walk into the department store.

“I get a suit!” He’s three steps ahead of Eddie, hustling out of sheer excitement. Eddie had brought it up at the beginning of the week, how it’s always a good idea for a man to have a suit stashed in the back of the closet, just in case there’s a reason for formalwear, and last time Christopher had dressed up, they’d had to leave the suitcoat at home and roll his sleeves up because everything was a little too small in every direction. He’d asked if Christopher would want to go suit shopping over the weekend, and it instantly became the only thing on the kid’s mind all week.  

He’d practically begged Eddie to take his measurements, and asked him to update them twice in the days after, “just in case I’ve grown any already!” The numbers are written on two sheets of paper, one in Christopher’s jeans pocket and the other tucked safely into Eddie’s wallet, on the off chance that the first copy gets lost.  

Of course, things get hairy as soon as they find the boys’ formalwear department.  

Because none of the suits are sized in a way that makes any sense to Eddie. He knows how to buy dress clothes: neck measurement by sleeve length for the shirt, jackets go by chest size. And he knows how big his kid is, and that he wears a medium in regular shirts.  

But he has no idea what number size that would translate to. Six, eight, 10, that’s how to measure kids’ pants, not suits. He’s got no clue what size shirt Christopher wears, not when the tags are all marked with numbers.  

“Dad? You look confused.” Christopher taps him on the arm. “Are you trying to pick a color?”

“No, buddy. I’m looking at the sizes. You have your numbers?” Christopher pulls the folded-up paper out of his pocket and hands it to Eddie. “Alright, see if you find any tags that match these. Because I don’t see them yet, but they should be here …"  

Christopher wanders off, and together they check every rack and all the shelves. He finds slacks that will fit, but there’s no jacket to match, and there’s still nothing to help him figure out a dress shirt.

He should be able to do this. He knows how to dress up; he’s not immune to the looks he gets when he wears a suit. So why can’t he help his kid have nice clothes too? He just cleared another rack when there’s an excited shout from a few shelves over.

“DAD! Look what I found!”

Finally. If Chris found the shirts, they can get this show on the road.

Eddie jogs over to find him practically bouncing with excitement.  

“Whatcha got?”  

“Look! This one has comic books on it!” Sure enough, Christopher points to a suit adorned with BAM! and POW! and ZAP! In brightly covered comic book bubbles. “Isn’t it awesome!”

“it’s … something.” Eddie has to hide a grimace. “Definitely a statement piece. But, um, you know what? If you get the right suit, you’ll be able to keep it until you outgrow it without having to worry about if it’s in style. You know how long I’ve had my suit?”

“Seven years.” It’s a guess, but Chris sounds so confident about it that Eddie can’t help but laugh as he squats down to Chris’s level.

“Good guess, bud, but not quite. I had to get a new one when I got back from the military because my old one didn’t fit anymore. But I’ve had this one since then, and it’s still a really good suit. How about we look for something more classic, and maybe we can come back for this one if there’s a specific occasion that calls for it?”

“Can we get matching suits? You can have a new one too, Dad!” In the true spirit of a 9-year-old boy, he’s only briefly disappointed before moving on to the next thing.  

“Let’s see what we find for you first, and we’ll see. Mine’s grey, so we can probably find something similar for you if we can work the sizes out.” He stands up and goes back to reading the sizes on the tags, still to no avail.

Eddie must look pretty irritated, because a saleswoman approaches him tentatively and smiles.

“Can I help you gentlemen find anything today?”

“No. We’re fine.” Eddie’s not rude, but his tone is clipped. He shouldn’t need help buying a suit for his kid. This absolutely falls under the umbrella of “Dad Duties” he should be capable of fulfilling without help.  

She smiles and walks off, and Eddie feels a tug on the bottom of his hoodie.

“Dad?” Christopher whispers loudly. “I don’t think we’re fine. You look angry.”  

“I’m not angry, kiddo. Just … trying to figure these out. I thought they’d work like grown-up suits, but –” before he can finish the sentence, Eddie sees a display that he’d missed the first time through the department. “Here, let’s go look at these.”  

It’s a few shelves of pre-packaged suit sets. Each one has just one size, and a chart on the back with measurement ranges. He sighs and looks down at his son.

“Alright, we’re back on track. Let’s see if we like any of these.” He leaves Christopher on one size of the display and circles around to look at the classic, neutral colored suits. The numbers written down in his wallet are way more detailed than they need, but it’s enough to help him figure out which size packet will work for Christopher. He’s picked up a navy blue and a black when he hears him call from around the shelves.

“I wear an eight, right Dad? I think that’s where my sizes go.”

“Sure do, mijo.”

“Can I have this one?” he comes around the end of the display, holding out a suit bundle. Eddie takes it from him and looks down.  

It’s a royal blue velvet coat, adorned with tiny white polka dots. he shirt and pants are simple enough, white and black, but there’s a bowtie tucked into the collar of the shirt that Eddie just can’t see with the coat. It’s red and blue plaid, which wouldn’t be bad as a standalone, but is a lot to pair with the polka dots.  

The suit is the polar opposite of the ones Eddie’s holding, but it’s formal enough, he thinks. Besides, the kid is 9; it’s not like anyone is expecting him to show up anywhere in black-tie. And he’s so excited, bouncing back and forth while he waits for Eddie’s verdict.  

"Pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“Yeah, this’ll work.” He lets Christopher cheer, then continues. “It’s a cool color. Nothing like this hanging in my closet.”

“Yeah, but you said we’d maybe get matching ones! We can go find one for you!”

Before Eddie can come up with an excuse, Christopher’s gone, click-clacking across the store for menswear.

“Chris, wait up!” He jogs after him, trying to find a reason he can’t have a blue velvet polka-dot suit. Nothing comes to mind other than price (and that he really, really doesn’t want one, but he doesn’t want to burst the kid’s bubble) and he doesn’t want Chris to think they’re in any sort of financial trouble.  

They’re not, but even if they were, that’s not for his kid to worry about.  

One thing works out in his favor though, someone is looking out for him, because there are no blue velvet blazers even close to Eddie’s size. Christopher is disappointed for a moment, but his smile brightens when he sees the spinning rack of neckties.

“What about matching neckties? I can have two neckties for one suit, right dad?”  

“Neckties we can do. See something that catches your eye?” Eddie spins the top tier of the display slowly, pointing out a grey pinstripe he thinks would match Chris’s new suit, then a timeless solid red. “This one would probably go with whatever suit you have next, too.”

“This one!” Christopher grabs pulls two identical ties loose from the rack and hands one to Eddie. “I like this one!”

Eddie runs his hand down the silver silk, adorned with tiny yellow flowers and green swirls.  

“You sure? You know, the suit you picked out is blue.”

“Yeah, and the flowers are yellow, and when you put those together, you get green. Like the squiggles!”  

The argument makes sense, Eddie has to admit. And he also has to admit that the next time he wears his suit, when the 118 puts in an appearance at the retiring fire chief’s farewell celebration, he reaches for his new necktie first.  

And when Bobby tells him that it looks nice, he’s proud to have a response at the ready.

“Thanks. Chris picked it out. He’s got a matching one at home.”

#911 #9-1-1 #911 fox #9-1-1 fox #chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

[firstdegreefangirl]

Day Four: “Lover, Not A Fighter”

Word Count: 1476

Original Pub Date: 23 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here

Day Four I Day Three I Day Two I Day One

“Hang on.” Eddie steps back from the foosball table, reaching for his phone. “It’s Chris’s school; I’ve got to take this. Someone sub in?”

Chimney takes his place opposite Hen, and Buck tries to look like he’s not following Eddie across the room.  

“Hello? … Yes, I’m Eddie, what’s going on?” He answers the phone and pauses, listening to the voice on the other end. “He what? No, no of course I understand. Someone will be there. Thanks for calling.” He hangs up and drags a hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

“Eddie? Everything OK, man?” Buck takes a careful step closer, his expression teeming with concern.

“I’ve got to go talk to Cap. Apparently Chis hit a kid and someone has to go pick him up. Abuela could probably get him, but I think I need to find out what happened.” Eddie turns for the stairs, Buck following closely behind.

“He hit someone? They’re sure they called the right parent? Chris is a lover, not a fighter.”

“They said he used his crutch, Buck. That kind of narrows down who it could be.” Eddie raps his knuckles against Bobby’s doorframe. “Cap? Do you have a second?”

“Sure, Diaz. What's up?” Bobby slides a stack of papers to the side, giving Eddie his full attention.

“I just got a call from Chris’s school. Apparently, there was some sort of incident on the playground, and they’re saying he whacked someone with his crutch. You mind if I take off early to go pick him up? I can come back later or something, but I’m not going to be any use until I find out what happened.”

“Take the afternoon, Eddie.” Bobby’s brow is furrowed. “Get to the bottom of it, and start fresh tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Cap.” Eddie slaps the door gently as he jogs down the stairs, checking to see if his keys are in his work pants or if he has to stop at the locker room.

He pulls the keyring out and jingles it in his hand, unlocking his truck as he gets to the door, still wearing his LAFD tee and uniform pants.  

It’s the fastest he’s ever driven to Christopher’s school. The time Buck drove him after the earthquake is a close second, but he still makes it in record time. When he pushes the buzzer for the office, he’s breathing heavily, and as soon as he’s inside, Christopher is looking up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Dad? Am I in trouble?”

“I think so, kiddo. They don’t usually call me at work to tell me that you’re having a great day, do they?”  

Before he can say anything else, the principal is calling them into her office. Eddie can’t remember the last time he felt so chastised in a school, but he can feel the judgement from the administrator about the kind of father that would raise a son who hits people. He still doesn’t get many details, just that he was playing with a group of boys at recess and then one of them was on the ground, shouting that Christopher had hit him. The other student isn’t in the office, but apparently there’s a bright red stipe across his calf to back up the story.  

The principal releases them, Christopher with a two-day suspension and Eddie with a scathing look. Eddie leads him out to the truck, and they ride home in silence while Eddie tries to figure out what he’s supposed to say next.

As he opens the front door, he looks down at Christopher.

“Go sit on the couch, bud. We need to talk.”

He watches Christopher head for the living room, but Eddie turns for the kitchen first. It’s too early in the afternoon for beer, but there’s no way he’s going to make it through this without some sort of pick-me-up, so he pops a cup in the Keurig and puts a mug underneath, waiting for his latte while he finishes thinking.

The hot mug in his hands does little to soothe his frustrations as he kneels down in front of Christopher.

“Are you gonna yell at me?” His eyes are wide, still glassed over with tears that haven’t fallen. He’s clearly terrified, and Eddie has the sinking feeling that Chris is scared of him.

“I’m going to try not to.” He moves to sit on the couch, waiting for Christopher to turn and face him. “But you remember how we talked about how CP means you can’t always do things like other kids?”

“Yeah?” Christopher looks puzzled, and Eddie wonders how he doesn’t already know where this is going.

“Well … sometimes it means that the other kids might be mean to you. And that’s not OK,” he hurries to add, then takes a sip of his drink. “But what’s also not OK is you being mean back. You can’t hit people just because they say something mean to you.”

“But Da-” Christopher tries to interject, but Eddie keeps going.

“You can says something back, or you can tell a grown-up that you’re getting bullied, but --”

“Dad!” He finally shouts loudly enough for Eddie to stop talking. “No one was making fun of me!”

Eddie purses his lips. He’s not sure how Christopher thinks he’ll feel better knowing that he wailed off and hit another student without even being provoked first. When he opens his mouth, there’s a tinge of frustration in his tone.

“It’s never OK for you to hit someone, Christopher. Especially if they haven’t done anything to you first.”  

And yeah, there’s a hint of irony there for Eddie to recognize. But Christopher doesn’t know about the street fighting, will never know about it if Eddie has any say, so that’s ireelevant here. It’s part of his past, not part of what he’s dealing with in the present.  

Besides, he’s come to learn that a lot of parenting is “do as I say, not as I do.”  

“Dad! He was being mean to Bucky!”  

“What?” Eddie blinks at his son, trying to figure out the turn their conversation has just taken.

Christopher leans forward and tells him how last week when Buck picked him up from school, he was wearing shorts. Eddie spares a quick moment of silent pride for his best friend, knowing how hard it’s been for Buck to even work up to texting him selfies from the fitting room as he tries shorts on now that there’s an angry red scar running down his leg.  

But he turns his attention back to Christopher, who’s telling him about recess today, when apparently some kid named Carson was making fun of Buck’s leg.

“I-I told him not to say anything like that, because it’s m-mean,” Christopher sniffles, rapidly losing the battle against crying. “and-and because Bucky is really brave, but he wouldn’t st-stop and --” The end of his sentence dies against a sob, but Eddie knows where it was going.

“So you hit him.”

“Yeah.” He drags his hand across his eyes, and Eddie reaches for a tissue as he pulls Christopher into his lap. He’s almost too big to be held like this, but Eddie figures they could both use the reassurance as he kisses Christopher's shoulder gently and sighs.

“Mijo, it’s so good that you stood up for Buck. Carson shouldn’t have been making fun of him, even if he wasn’t there to see it. You’re a good friend for defending him like that. But you have to understand that it’s not OK to hit other people. Ever. No matter how angry you are, you have to find a better way to express it. Alright?”

Christopher nods, then leans back to look Eddie in the eye.  

“Am I in trouble?” He’s stopped crying, but his lower lip is trembling like he might start again at any second. Eddie sighs, taking a moment to consider his answer.

“Not this time. This time, we talk about it, and you learn. You’ll spend your suspension days with Carla, but she’s not taking you for anything special, OK? You’ve still got schoolwork to get done. And when you go back, you need to apologize to Carson. But no extra trouble. That said, if this happens again, that answer’s going to change. Understood?”  

He’s trying to look and sound stern, without being too aggressive, and he’s pretty sure it comes across when Christopher nods.  

“Good. You know I love you, right, Superman?”

“I love you too, Dad.” Christopher leans forward again, throwing his arms around Eddie’s neck and squeezing him in a tight hug.

Eddie hugs him back, remembering what Buck had said earlier in the day. He’s never been more sure of anything as he turns his head to bury his nose in Chris’s curls and holds him a little tighter.

He’s a lover, not a fighter.  

#chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #who'd die for his bucky #chris diaz #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #911 #9-1-1 #911 fox #9-1-1 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

[firstdegreefangirl]

Day Five: Part of the Family

Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Word Count: 927

Original Pub Date: 23 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here! 

Day Five I Day Four I Day Three I Day Two I Day One

“Buck!” Christopher looks up as soon as his friend comes through the front door. “Guess what’s in a week?”  

“Hmmm …" Buck taps his chin, pretending to think deeply. “Uh, is it a new episode of Chopped?”  

“No! My birthday! I’ll be 10!”  

“What? No, it’s not already your birthday again, is it? There’s no way you’ve been nine for a whole year.”

“Yeah-huh!” He grins at Buck’s teasing. “We’re having a special dinner with Abuela and Pepa and everything! And then on the weekend, Dad said I could have 10 people from my class over, since that’s how old I’ll be!”  

“Oh, that’s why he wanted to know if I was free Saturday afternoon.” Buck looks over at Eddie, who’s wandering in from the kitchen.  

“I told you it was for his party, and you asked if you could help blow up balloons the night before.” Eddie rolls his eyes and sits down between Buck and Chris on the couch.  

“Well yeah, but you didn’t tell me it was his birthday party!” Buck winks at Eddie, cluing him in to the joke.

“It is! And it’s my birthday dinner too! With-with …" he trails off. “Dad, what’s the cake again?”  

“Tres leches, kiddo. You wanted the creamy one with the cherries on it, right?”

“Yeah!” His face lights up with an idea and he looks at Eddie again. “Dad, can Bucky come too?”  

The room goes quiet for a moment, and Buck can’t read the look on Eddie’s face. They haven’t told Christopher that they’re dating yet, so he doesn’t have any reason to think Buck wouldn’t want to be there. But Buck doesn’t want to impose, isn’t sure if they’re up to meeting-the-family yet.

(Not that he hasn’t already met them, but meeting your friend’s family and your boyfriend’s family feel like two very different sets of stakes. He remembers how nervous Maddie was to introduce him to Chimney, even though he’d already known Chim for over a year, and isn’t sure that he wants to push Eddie into that if he’s not ready yet.

Especially on his kid’s birthday.)

“Oh, I don’t know,” Buck breaks the silence. “It sounds like a family party. Besides, I’ll be at the big party on Saturday, now that I know it’s for your birthday.” He tries to bring the levity back, find the lighthearted groove they were in before.  

“Dad always says that family is the people you choose.” Christopher looks between them both. “Why can’t you be part of the family?”  

“Well …" Buck stares at Eddie, waiting for him to jump in and save him.

“Yeah, man.” Eddie finally looks back at him. “Of course you’re part of the family. If you’re free Wednesday, I’m sure Abuela would be happy to add another plate.”

He says it like it’s not turning Buck’s world on its axis, like there’s no room for argument.

It is though. It’s changing everything.  

There isn’t room for argument though, not when Chris and Eddie are both looking at him like that. He’s never been able to say no to Chris, and they all know it. Everything else aside, he’ll go anywhere Christopher asks him to, go along with anything he comes up with.

“If you’re sure,” he looks at Eddie, then down to Chris. “Then I suppose I can clear my incredibly busy social calendar.”

“YES!” Christopher cheers and launches himself across Eddie to throw his arms around Buck’s neck at the same time as Eddie replies.

“I’m sure your sofa will miss you terribly.” He rolls his eyes, but feels Buck brush their hands together and smiles. “Besides, if Abuela found out that you’d turned down an invite for her cooking, I don’t know that she’d ever forgive you.”  

It’s the last thing Eddie says about it until all three of them are tucked in bed that night, Christopher passed out before Buck could finish the next chapter of Harry Potter. He’d worn himself out over the course of the evening, telling Buck all about the food Abuela was going to cook and the special toys he only gets to play with at her house, and how excited he is for Buck to see the bedroom he sleeps in there when he spends the night.  

Buck responded to every bit of it with just as much enthusiasm as Christopher, and he’s still smiling when Eddie pulls him into his arms under the covers.  

“So … part of the family?” He’s trying to play it cool, but there’s a hint of hesitation in his voice to match the pounding of his heart. “You’re sure? I know it’s only been a few months, and Chris doesn’t even know yet--”

“He can tell.” Eddie’s voice is steady, a whisper that echoes off the walls of the otherwise silent room. “Maybe we haven’t told him we’re dating, but he knows how much you care. That’s the important part. And he’s right, Buck. Family’s the people you choose, the ones who are there for you. By that definition, you’re way more family than some of our actual blood relatives.”  

“Yeah?” Buck smiles up at him, resting his chin on Eddie’s chest. “And you’re sure I can come to dinner Wednesday?”

“It’s Chris’s birthday, he’s in charge of the invites.” Eddie shrugs. “But even if he weren’t, yes. You keep loving us like this, and it’ll become a requirement, not an invitation.”  

“I think I can work with that.” Buck murmurs, snuggling in closer and sighing. “’Long as you keep saying I’m part of the family.”

#chrisdiazweek2020 #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 fanfic #buddie #buddie fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #christopher diaz is a national hero #chris diaz #katie writes #kw20 #the original otp

[firstdegreefangirl]

Chris Week Day Six: School(work)

Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Word Count: 1268

Original Pub Date: 25 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here

Day Five I Day Four I Day Three I Day Two I Day One

Christopher makes a run for his bedroom as soon as he’s in the front door after school.

“Remember, homework done before dinner if you want to have time to play a game tonight!” his dad calls after him, following Buck into the kitchen to help with the food.  

He throws himself onto his bed, shaking everything out of his backpack onto the comforter.  

Really, the only homework he has to get done is math. Everything else was easy, and he finished it in class. But he has to multiply big numbers now, the kind with three digits, and that’s hard. He tries his best, really, but the numbers get all confused, especially when he has to move them between the different columns.

There’s no way he’ll have all 15 problems done before dinner. And then he won’t get to play Clue with Buck, and Buck will be upset that there’s no game, and it’ll all be because of his stupid math homework.

He picks up the folder and looks at the worksheet inside, starts trying to figure out the first problem. But when he takes the seven times the five, there’s a three that has to go … somewhere. And then does he add it, or multiply it?  

He doesn’t know.  

He just wants to be somewhere where no one is going to make him do math homework. But all the grownups he knows are definitely going to make him do the worksheets. So he’ll take matters into his own hands.  

He sits up, looking at his toys and his bookcase. His backpack isn’t very big, but there’s enough room for a few things. Especially if he leaves out the stupid math folder.

His favorite books. A couple of action figures. The teddy bear Abuela gave him when he was a baby.  

As an afterthought, he throws a notebook in on top, and his pencil. Maybe if he keeps a good journal of his adventures, they’ll make a movie about him someday, like Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.

Christopher Diaz: The Boy Who Ran Away From Math.

Yeah, he’d watch that.

With everything packed, and his backpack still zipping perfectly, he slings it back over his shoulder and heads for the front door.

“DAD! I’m running away!” he calls over his shoulder as he opens the front door.

“Be safe! Only talk to the friendly-looking drivers. Find one with a roomy van!” His dad replies, but he slams the door.

“Eddie?!” Buck stares at him incredulously. “He’s running away?!”

“Seems that way.” Eddie peers out the kitchen window, watches Christopher make his way down the driveway and past the mailbox.  

“And you told him to get in a van?”

“He doesn’t like it when I tell him to take a snack.” Eddie shrugs. “He’ll be good. Kid’s independent.”

“What?” Buck is practically shouting now, staring over Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re just letting him go?”

“He just needs a minute to walk it off. My guess is he’s mad about having to do his homework. Give him some time, he knows he’s allowed to be as dramatic as he wants down to the end of the block. If he gets out of sight, we’ll go on a recovery mission.” Eddie turns back to the burner, stirring the mac and cheese Buck had started. “Seriously, he’ll be back by dinner. Now are you going to put the pork chops in the oven or let me risk all of our lives?”

Buck turns around and finishes seasoning the meal with a heavy sigh.

“He ran away, Eddie. How are you just sitting there?”  

“Because he’s a 9-year-old boy who’s pissed about something, and he knows the neighborhood boundaries. See?” He points to where Christopher has just turned around at the end of the block.  

They watch him pace three laps up and down the sidewalk, stopping in front of the driveway each time to check the little sports watch Buck had bought him on their last trip to the mall. On the last round, he notices that it’s almost 6:30, and heads back up to the front door.  

Eddie’s there to open it when he gets to the porch, bottle of water in his hand.  

“Dad! Did you notice I ran away?”

“Sure did.” Eddie pushes sweaty curls back from his forehead and hands him the water. “It got quiet, so Buck and I knew something was up. Glad you’re back though; dinner’s almost ready. Go wash up, and we’ll talk about why you ran away.”  

Eddie goes back to the kitchen, mouthing told you so at Buck as he sets the table and listens for the bathroom sink to stop running.  

Once they’re all seated, and the first bites have been taken, Eddie looks at his son.

“Alright, kiddo. What happened today? Why’d you run away?”

“Math is stupid!” He stabs viciously at a bite of mashed potatoes.

“Yeah, it can be pretty tough sometimes. What are you learning in math?”

“Multiplying big numbers. But then you gotta move the three and I don’t know where it goes!” He grumbles and takes a drink of his milk.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye, and it’s clear that he doesn't know where the three goes either. Eddie nudges his foot under the table and flicks his gaze to Christopher a couple of times until Buck gets the message.

“You know, math was always the hardest part of school for me too.”

“Really?” He eyes Buck dubiously, like he doesn’t believe him. “You didn’t like math too?”

“Still don’t.” Buck raises his eyebrows and continues. “But I have to use it at work almost every single day.”

“Even the big numbers?”

“Even the big numbers. There’s lots and lots of math to be a firefighter, and if I didn’t know how to do it, I wouldn’t be able to do my job. Neither would your dad.”

“But Dad’s good at math!”

“I had to study a lot to get there, buddy. Didn’t happen overnight.” Eddie cuts back in as he wipes his chin. “So how about this: we finish up eating, and take a look at that homework together?”  

“Can Bucky help too?” Christopher looks like he’s considering the idea, and Eddie steps carefully on Buck's toes to get his attention again. “Maybe he’ll get better at math with me.”

“I think you’ll probably be able to talk him into it.” They both turn to look at Buck.

“Moral support, kiddo. Trust me, you only want me cheering you on. If I try to actually help, your dad will have to write a note apologizing for your answers.”

“But you’ll cheer for me?”

“Of course! And when you’re done, we’ll figure out something special to celebrate before bed.”  

“Ice cream?”

Buck looks at Eddie, who nods.

“Sure!”

With the deal negotiated, Christopher sets about finishing his dinner, and Buck helps Eddie clear the table while Chris gets his math folder.  

(If Eddie looks up a tutorial on triple-digit multiplication to make sure he’s teaching his son correctly, that’s nobody’s business but his.)

Together, the three of them make it through all 15 problems. Eddie isn’t sure who learned more, Buck or Chris, but they both understand carrying now, so it’s a victory across the board.  

And when they get the sundae bowls down, Christopher is able to announce off the top of his head that if three people each have three scoops of ice cream, that’s nine scoops total. And that earns him an extra cherry on top, bringing the total number of cherries to …

“All of them?”

“Good try, Buck.”  

#chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 fanfic #christopher diaz #chris diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #katie wr #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreenfangirl

[elisela]

Chapters: 1/1 

Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Christopher Diaz (9-1-1)

Additional Tags: Post-Episode s03e15 Eddie Begins, Eddie Begins Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Idiots in Love, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, no beta we die like men

Summary: “I just want you,” Chris says, and Eddie can’t deny that it makes his heart beat a little faster to hear.

He texts Buck before they pull away: sorry man, Chris just wants a low-key night, we’ll get together tomorrow.

Buck doesn’t respond.

#christopher diaz is a national treasure #chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #911fic #eddie begins was the fucking death of me

[firstdegreefangirl]

Chris Week Day Seven: Not While I’m Around

Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Word Count: 1109

Original Pub Date: 27 April 2020

A/N: It's important that you all know that I'm imagining Buck's singing to sound just like Josh Groban in this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gl_Mrk0Bz80

Read on Ao3 here

Day Six I Day Five I Day Four I Day Three I Day Two I Day One

Eddie sighs as he gets out of his truck and walks up Buck’s driveway, flicking through the keys on his keyring. He finds the one he’s looking for and slides it into the lock, turning the doorknob and pushing his way carefully into Buck’s foyer.

(You never know what you’ll find when he and Chris hang out, is the thing, so the door really does have to be opened slowly. He still hasn’t gotten to live down the untimely demise of a domino track that he accidentally nudged with his toe, or the pillow fort he toppled over when the door swung open too fast.)

He scans his eyes across the loft, but nothing seems out of place. That is, until his gaze lands on his sort-of-maybe boyfriend and his son, curled together on Buck’s sofa. Christopher's asleep, half-sprawled across Buck’s lap, legs stretched out behind him. He’s wearing a green T-shirt that hangs massively off of his child-sized frame, even lying down, and Eddie quickly recognizes it as one of Buck’s favorites to wear on days off from the station.  

There’s a hand scratching gently through Chris’s hair, playing with the soft curls, and Eddie lets his eyes trace it up through the wrist and arm, a broad shoulder connecting it to Buck’s face.  

Eddie hadn’t noticed that his lips were moving. But now that he can see it, he listens, trying to pick out the words. It takes him a moment to figure out that the soft melody floating through his head is coming from Buck’s mouth, that he’s singing softly. And it takes him another moment to make out the lyrics, but when he does, he draws in a breath that he doesn’t let back out.

No one’s gonna hurt you No one’s gonna dare Others will desert you Not to worry, listen I’ll be there Demons will charm you with a smile For a while But in time Nothing can harm you Not while I’m around

The song ends, and Eddie lets the silence hang for a moment before he steps forward and clears his throat, letting Buck think he’s only just arrived. When he hears the noise, Buck looks up and smiles broadly at him.

“Hey, Eds! Survived the shift?” He’s whispering, still toying with Chris’s hair, but there’s no mistaking the joy on his face.  

“Made it through, yeah.” He smiles back and starts crossing the room to stand directly in front of the couch.  

Maybe he and Buck haven’t defined exactly what their relationship is yet, where the line is between friendship and the something more they’re tilting toward, but whatever it is, it’s the best sort of family Eddie’s ever had.  

That's what he’s thinking about when he squats down and runs a knuckle gently across Christopher’s cheekbone.  

“Looks like you guys had a big afternoon.” He rolls his eyes up to look at Buck and gestures to the bright green fabric.

“Yeah, we made Kool-Aid. There was, um, there was some splashage. His shirt is hanging in the bathroom; I think I got the splotch out.”  

“Eh, not the end of the world if you didn’t. I’ll bet this made his whole day.” Eddie rests his hand on Buck’s knee and smiles. “Seriously, thanks for watching him. He always has a great time.”

“Of course, it’s really not a problem, Eddie. He’s a pretty OK kid.” Buck rolls his eyes and winks.

“He’s turning out alright.” Eddie raises his eyebrows and slides his hand just far enough up Buck’s thigh to press a gentle kiss to his kneecap and roll back onto his heels.

He thinks about mentioning the singing, but he doesn't know what he’d say. It didn’t feel like a moment that was looking for an audience, even if one had quite literally walked through the front door.  

Besides, what is there to say? Thanks for singing to my kid? That’s not the point, not what had stuck out to Eddie when he saw how tender and gentle Buck was being. There aren’t words to put to it, nothing he can say to describe how much his heart swelled when he saw the way Buck smiled at Christopher as he sang. It’s not a song Eddie recognizes, but there’s no mistaking the protective tone, the lyrics about keeping his son safe.  

There’s nothing he can say to tell Buck how much it means to him that Buck cares, looks out for Chris like this, even in the moments where there’s nothing to protect him from.

“Eddie?” He guesses that he’s gone quiet for too long, based on the quizzical way that Buck is looking down at him. “Where’d you go?”

“Nah, I’m here.” Eddie shifts to sit cross-legged, leaning against the front of the couch and tipping his head to settle beside his son’s on Buck’s thigh. Buck’s free hand comes down to scratch through Eddie’s hair too, and he sighs and relaxes. “Just … thinking.”

“About?” Buck hums and twists a lock of Eddie’s hair around one of his fingers.

“You, mostly,” he admits. “How good you are with Chris. Never thought I’d find someone who loves him as much as his mom and I do. Did.” He stiffens a little bit when he mentions Shannon, but the tension seeps away again when Buck presses his fingers a little harder into Eddie’s scalp and rubs in tight circles. “Anyway, just … thank you. For loving him. Us.”

“He makes it easy.” Buck smiles fondly at the sleeping weight in his lap. “You? Jury’s still out. But I suppose the two of you come as a set, so you can stick around.” He pauses for a moment, his hand going still before he starts massaging again. “Speaking of, you want to stay tonight? Won’t have to move him in and out of houses, and … we can--” he starts over. “My bed is big enough for us both; we’ve proven that before.”

“Well …" Eddie pretends to think it over. “I guess you do live closer to Chris’s school, and it would be nice to have a few extra minutes in the morning, get to sleep in a bit.”

“Yeah?” Buck raises an eyebrow at him.  

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles teasingly and takes a breath, figuring out exactly how to phrase his next thought. “Especially if there’s someone here to protect us.”

Buck’s eyes widen a bit, but if he realizes that Eddie heard him singing, he doesn’t say anything as he slides his hand down to cup Eddie’s cheek. Eddie turns his head to press a kiss against Buck’s palm as he replies.

“Always. Nothing’s gonna harm you. Not while I’m around.”

#chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 fanfic #buddie #buddie fanfic #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

[elisela]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Christopher Diaz (9-1-1)

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Christopher Diaz is a National  Treasure

Summary: “Eagle Rock is a five and a half mile hike,” Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You do remember who we’re taking, don’t you?”

Buck’s gaze doesn’t leave Eddie’s face, but he shrugs. “Chris is the one who chose it,” he says. “No harm in letting him try.”

#buddie #buddie fic #christopher diaz is a national treasure #chrisdiazweek2020 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911fic

[elisela]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Christopher Diaz (9-1-1)

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure

Summary: Eddie Diaz is a lucky man, and he reminds himself of that every day.

Note: This is an outtake of No Sincerer Love, but that one does not need to be read first.

#christopher diaz is a national treasure #christopher diaz #chrisdiazweek2020 #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911fic