Lost & Found

[Sheith Search & Rescue AU ]

Storms in the Garrison Valley were like an act of God. With the windward side of the mountain being lush and green, the leeward side looked like a desert. All dead earth, cracked beneath the sun and desolate from desiccating winds.

While the storm shook the trees from the ocean, the rain tumbled over the peak of the mountain and tore across the land, reigning debris into the river that flows between. Locals know better than to drive along the road that winds just beneath the ridge when there’s been a storm.

A lack of root systems makes the mud unstable for at least a week after a heavy rain, pulling nearly a dozen rushed drivers into the pit, still overflowing with the storm runoff.
After the drivers have been pulled out,

after the water is coughed out of their lungs and they pass out from exhaustion, someone usually cracks a joke that the Garrison Emergency Medical Services are like the fishermen who live along the coast, what with the way that they pull people from the rapid.

Surprisingly enough, the joke always falls flat.

But often enough, the poor idiot that drove along the ridge comes by the station and leaves something baked, a cake, a basket of muffins, an entire tray of lasagna, for the pilots of the helicopter that flew them to the hospital 10 miles east of the river.

Keith will never complain about the muffins that Mrs. S, a woman who was rescued before Keith even moved out to Garrison, sends with her daughter after every storm. Always with a note, the chocolate chunk muffins are miraculously still warm by the time they get to them.

Her daughter works at the hospital, which means that she has to wake up at least an half an hour earlier to get the muffins to the station before her shift, and god only knows how early Mrs. S was awake to make them fresh.
But damn, when Keith hits a big chunk of chocolate that

practically rots his teeth, still warm and gooey and wonderful, he forgets all about how early it is and the criminal lack of caffeine in his system.
“Keith.” Shiro is behind him, protein shake in hand looking every bit the health god Adonis that Keith married four years ago.

“Yes?” He drops his head back, chocolate smudged over his lips.
“If you keep moaning like that we’re going to have a problem,” his husband’s hand is gripping the shaker bottle especially tight.
Never one to pass up a quickie, Keith smirks, “Who says it has to be a problem?”

Shiro doesn’t go with it, ever so professional in the workplace, “I am not having sex with you in the coat closet we have less than an hour before we’re off.”
Keith sits up and shoves the rest of the muffin in his mouth, “Now we don’t, you goddamn jinx.”
“I don’t-”

“If you say believe in jinxes I’m leaving you here.”
“I have the keys.”
Keith leans in for a kiss, chocolate still on his lips, “That’s what you think,” and he plucks the keys from Shiro’s belt.

Shiro doesn’t notice, or if he does he doesn’t say anything, and meets him in the middle.
Mornings on the helipad are in the top three favorites for this job. One is definitely working with his husband (and therefore seeing that magnificent ass in aviation gear),

the other is the actual helping people bit, but mornings when the sun paints the sky in lilacs, oranges, and reds along the edge of the clouds- definitely number three.
He wraps an arm around Keith and pulls him close, savoring the warmth of the hug against the cool morning air

The rain that had come last night brought the temperatures down into the 40s, but today was going to be a beautiful day. After a well earned nap, maybe he could drag Keith and Kosmo along for a run.

There would likely be banana pancakes promised for when they get home, but Shiro wouldn’t mind.

He’s about to ask when the bell goes off, a shrill sound that makes Kosmo bark loud enough that Shiro and Keith can hear him from up on the roof.
Keith looks at Shiro and opens his mouth, but Shiro beats him to the punch, “Don’t say it.”
“You-”
“Keith.”
“YOU-”

“They’re not real!”
Keith shoves a finger into the center of Shiro’s chest, “You fucking jinxed it, Shirogane.”
Shiro pouts, following after Keith as they both un-tie their jumpsuits and shrug the sleeves over their shoulders, “I might have jinxed it.”