... ... ... "Get up, Brace." I assumed that was just a part of my dream. "GET UP YOU FRICKIN' IDIOT!" "Shut up." I answered to the particularly rude voice, with no sharp tones used. I let one eye open, but otherwise the rest of my body was still dead in its black office chair. "Can't you see I'm..." "Busy? I think you'd be busier finishing this." I heard something slam onto my desk, or rather slapped it; a folder appeared on the top of my books of any genre, with several sheets of paper sticking out. "What this?" I grunted, preferring to not talk and trying to signal it through my tone. "Warehouse on the tenth district." I rubbed my eyes with my scaly fingers, getting all the sand and grit by digging them free. "I don't mean that. Your new folders are getting annoying, you kno-" "You're gonna draft up plans for us to enter the building safely and quickly, or five people will die today. We've got two regiments of firefighters on stand-by, but all they can do is contain the spread of fire." I sighed rather silently as the chief left. I reached out for the gritty and brown folder, adjusting my legs and posture so that I wouldn't break them upon grabbing it. "Five people..." I repeated, flicking the file's cover and pulling out a sheet. [i]Let's see... ees s'tel- cut it out. I'm trying work to work.[/i] I didn't talk about this ages ago, I won't be talking about this now. [i]Stairs will be out of action, action, action... we'll ned twenty-thousand ladders...[/i] I grabbed my pencil as I spied the files, taking a rubber with me as well. Normally, I'd take a ruler with me to straighten out my plans, but there was little time for professionalism. I marked the two ladders on the contrasting sheets, with black plans and white space. (There were 7 sheets; one to show the sides, the top and lastly an isometric view of the building from two opposite sides.) [i]Path teh firefights will take, assumin' this be thy void of flamethrowers.[/i] I scribbled a path from the entrance to the second floor where everyone was located. Upon noticing a mistake - which involved pulling every firefighter into the most dangerous room in the warehouse - I scrambled for my rubber and rubbed hard against the paper. It got creased and I swore there was a slight rip, but I didn't mind. After all, didn't want to be implicated for homicide, and I certainly didn't want to plead to insanity. [i]NEED- NEED- I'll need a fire extinguisher fire to extinguish the windows to create a safehouse safe- SAFE exit for the firefighters-[/i] "SURPRISE!" Suddenly, my view was filled with confetti as it laid itself on everything in my room. I was thankful I didn't have an episode over it. "Happy birthday! How did you forget?" The chief asked in his giant voice, bulging eyes staring at me. I couldn't tell whether he was going to kill me, or kill me hugging me. I mean, it was already scary to see how he was free of any scales (aside from his draconic tail, but you get the point). "Oh... er..." I'll be honest; I preferred celebrating birthdays by myself. How they got my date was a mystery... "Hey, Brace! Catch!" I turned in my seat to a rather fat lady. Her clothes barely fitted her, but we were all kind enough to not point that out. I managed to catch in one hand a... little firetruck toy. "Just to celebrate your first year here! And your birthday too!" She said gleefully, giggling as she left. "Huh. Thanks." I personally thought it was rather cute, holding it in front of my eyes as I leaned on my office chair. I placed it by my empty mug on my already-cluttered desk. "Brace, you've done good." The chief praised me for some reason, lowering his eyes to the point where they looked calm. "Over 350 plans made, and not a single firefighter lost. Assuming we don't count body parts - but hey - nobody expected that decommissioned boiler to explode." I smiled, although it soon faded (forcefully) when he mentioned the horrific Boiler Incident. It wasn't their fault; it was mine. A week into my job, I began hands-on. What happened next in that building... I may have deliberately let a fire spread to the boiler. Two men lost their arms, while another was blinded. "That truck... that's not just a little toy." He continued, coming up close to my desk. "It's a sign of respect. Over a century old, that thing." I could see his point; the thing was rusting slightly, and its paint was flaking on several sides. "Our first chief always handed that down to the most respected of firefighters. My God... he was a hero." He began breaking up. Tears were forming, but he just attempted to rub them away to maintain his attitude. "Saved so many men and women and died for it..." "Um... that's... really brave of your grandfather." I tried comforting him, wanting help from the half-a-dozen people celebrating my birthday. "Yeah... I guess, he didn't just die. He left a legacy." "I'm sure he didn't die in vain. Because, now you're chief, and you've got us."