Page 159 of Knotting the Firefighters

In the elevator.

Alone.

With Aidric.

This is either terrible timing or a perfect opportunity, depending on perspective.

Aidric curses —creative string of profanity that would make Bear proud, frustration evident in every syllable.

"Is this usual?" I ask with false calm, assessing our situation with professional detachment despite internal alarm bells.

He mutters something incomprehensible, running a hand through his hair with an agitated gesture.

"They were supposed to fix the mechanical issues last week. Submitted work order, received confirmation, assumed completion?—"

"Ah—" I interrupt with exaggerated understanding. "—so the chief failed to verify repair completion, instead assuming subordinates followed through without verification."

Assumption.

The mother of all operational failures.

As every training manual emphasizes repeatedly.

His face flushes deeper red—embarrassment mixing with recognition that I'm absolutely right and he has no defense.

"I'll do a better job in the future," he grumbles, defensive walls fully activated. "Just wait and see. Won't make the same mistake twice."

Adorable.

He's genuinely adorable when embarrassed.

Who knew Captain Brooding could blush like a scandalized teenager?

"Sure," I agree with exaggerated patience. "So why don't you get us out of this elevator? Demonstrate your superior problem-solving capabilities and decisive action?"

He huffs—sound caught between frustration and resignation—and moves toward the control panel with determined efficiency.

His hands manipulate buttons with practiced competence, attempting various combinations that should theoreticallyreactivate the system or, at a minimum, trigger emergency protocols.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He presses the emergency call button—a red circle that should connect us to building management or emergency services.

Silence.

Mechanical failure extends to safety systems, apparently.

Fantastic.

This building's maintenance record is becoming increasingly concerning.

I watch him work, leaning against the elevator wall with a deliberately casual posture that projects confidence I don't entirely feel.

Stuck in an elevator.

With my Alpha I've been avoiding being alone with.