"All units, a suspected jumper on Veteran Avenue, penthouse floor of an apartment building." Dispatch crackles over Sam's radio. He had only just parked into front of the nearest Starbucks for lunch, but he reached over to immediately flick on his squad cars lights before grabbing at the handheld.

"850-L40 responding." He murmured, setting the radio back up. He pulled away from his parallel parking space. He was only a few blocks away. His eyes darted to a ladder truck along with an ambulance at the end of the street, an amused sigh leaving him at the sight of the numbers "118" plastered along the side of each vehicle.

He unhooked his seatbelt, putting his car into park before tossing the door open. He watched the 118 climb out of their rig as he shut his door behind him, jogging up to the group.

"Hey, what are the odds." Chimney grinned, holding his arms out in greeting. "Two shifts in a row."

Bobby ignored him, favoring to look up at the massive building in search for a jumper. Sam decided to do the same, but not before giving the group a nod of greeting.

"There he is." Buck pointed immediately, realizing they were directly under the man in question. The man braced himself against the window of his supposed apartment, uncomfortably close to the edge.

"What's the plan, cap?" Buck inquired, head ducking back down to study Bobby's face and eagerly await instruction.

The jumper's foot slipped, him frantically scrambling to correct it, allowing for a shoe to stray from his form. It hurtled down the sky as the rest of the 118 stepped back, moving to miss the potentially dangerous projectile. Sam wrapped a hand around an unaware Buck's bicep, tugging the firefighter toward himself as the boot hit the asphalt. The only response from Buck was a sharp intake of breath and a confused expression shot at the officer who was holding onto him.

Eddie moved forward, stepping on the front of the shoe experimentally.
"Steel toe, ouch." He muttered.

"Buck owes you twice now, Murph." Chimney chimed in.

Sam raised a brow at the nickname, letting go of Buck to rest his hand atop his firearm, tilting his head up at the sky again.

Buck cleared his throat, awkwardly taking a few steps back to avoid any more lethal articles of clothing.

"Alright, no time to waste." Bobby spoke up, clapping his gloved hands together. "Let's get to it."

"Good luck," Sam shot out to the group, earning him a few nods in reply before jogging toward the nearing bystanders as Bobby continued to give orders to the members of the 118. Sam held his arms out, keeping the ever growing crowd back.

It didn't take long for the firefighters to get set up, Sam noted. He recognized a few men atop the roof, harnessing up. Hailing from New York, he'd seen his fair share of jumpers on patrol, so he immediately recognized which tactic they were going for. As one of the men slowly descended the building, feet planting surely along the brick siding, Sam watched with interest. Once the firefighter was hanging just a yard or two directly above the jumper, Sam realized it was Buck. He found his shoulders tensing just a fraction more than usual as Buck dropped in, pushing the jumper into the open window behind him.

The crowd cheered immediately in response, causing Sam to wince, taking a few steps away from the mass of people.
As the 118 began to filter through the main entrance of the apartment building, Sam left the dispersing crowd to meet them.

"Hey, good work." He jutted his head upward in a nod of approval toward the team, eyeing Buck who seemed to flourish at the praise, immediately beaming.
"He was pretty high up there."

"Central Park tower is the tallest apartment building in the western hemisphere." Buck blurted out with a small smile. "This was a cakewalk."

"Buck is an endless encyclopedia of weird facts." Chimney explained in jest, aiding Hen in loading the stretcher into the nearby ambulance. Buck's demeanor seemed to change at that, shrugging in what could only be embarrassment. Eddie moved to place a comforting hand atop his best friend's shoulder.

"I didn't know that," Sam began in response to Buck's comment. "And I'm from New York."

"Really?" Buck's head lifted.

Sam nodded. "Only time I left was when I was in the service and—" He gestured to their surrounding.

"Service?" Eddie asked, the grip on Buck's shoulder loosening, his arm dropping to his side. "What branch?"

"Army." Sam stated simply, and seemingly unwilling to explain further.

"Me too. Combat medic." Eddie supplied, to which Sam immediately dipped his head.

Buck felt a rift, an unspoken conversation that he wasn't a part of. A language that he didn't understand. Or perhaps, it was his own thoughts providing his burdened mind with further untrue assumptions. Either way, he felt like a third wheel.

"Let's get to it!" Bobby called from the door of ladder truck.

"See ya around." Buck gave a friendly wave just as Hen shut the back doors of the ambulance. She turned to face the trio with a kind but mischievous smile.
"We'll see you next time Buck needs saving."

Buck was thankful he was already headed toward the rig, or his reddened face would be the topic of teasing for the rest of their shift.