Baywatch fic: No Comment (1/5)
Title: No Comment
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
A/N: Fills my forced to face fear square. Unbeta’ed. Part of the Gold Medal Verse.
Summary: A year ago, Brody had been a different person with different plans. Mitch knew for sure that Brody had changed as a person, but did he know for sure that his plans had changed?
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
-o-
It had been a year.
In some ways, that wasn’t such a long period of time. Honestly, most of the time, it didn’t feel that way to Mitch. In so many ways, it felt like the blink of an eye. Time had flown.
In other ways, however, it was surprisingly long. A full year. And when Mitch looked back, he was surprised by how different life had been for him a year ago.
Sure, he still had the same job. He still lived in the same house and maintained the same routine. The only thing that had changed was Matt Brody.
One change that changed everything.
One year that felt like the best of his life.
If anyone had told him he’d feel this way a year ago, when Brody’s cocky dumb ass first showed up on his beach, Mitch would have laughed at them.
And now, here he was.
Planning a surprise party.
To celebrate the one year anniversary of Brody, Summer and Ronnie’s addition to the Baywatch team.
A lot could change in a year, after all.
Thank God that it was for the better.
Especially since who was to say where they might be in another year.
-o-
“I just don’t know if we can feasibly keep it a surprise,” Stephanie said.
“But it has to be a surprise!” CJ countered. “Or it’s not a surprise party!”
Stephanie leveled a look at her. “You can’t plan a surprise party on the beach at the end of the day for lifeguards,” she said. “Their whole job is to be vigilant. If they didn’t see the preparations, we would have to fire them.”
CJ groaned. “You lack all imagination!” she complained. “Mitch, tell her.”
“No way,” Mitch said, not looking up from his paperwork. “I’m not getting involved with this.”
“It was your idea,” Stephanie said, gesturing at him from her place on a chair across from his desk..
“It was a great idea!” CJ enthused. She was sitting up straight in the other chair, ever ready to go.
“We’ve never done it before,” Stephanie said, not quite arguing but pretty much.
“So it’s a new tradition,” CJ said.
“You just like it because your boyfriend’s on the team,” Stephanie told her.
CJ scoffed. “And maybe you’re just jealous because you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Hey!” Stephanie said.
This time, Mitch did look up. Because while it might be amusing to see two of his most trusted lifeguards go after each other, it was not what he needed right now. Or ever. “It is a break with tradition, I know that,” Mitch conceded, placating both of them at the same time. “But this last year has been a very important one here at Baywatch. We’ve had a higher retention rate for our staff -- at levels we’ve never seen before. Our save rate is significantly improved -- and that’s bearing in mind that it was good before. On top of that, our public relations front has never been stronger. Baywatch has always defined the bay, but we’re doing it in a whole new way now. Now, that’s a team effort, on all of us. But I think we can all be confident that our recruiting class last year has gone above and beyond in their dedication. I don’t have to remind you who were the three central players in taking down Leeds last year and saving the bay?”
CJ was beaming, and even Stephanie couldn’t argue it.
“That said,” Mitch said. “Stephanie’s right. We can’t plan a surprise party if they’re all on the beach.”
CJ slumped a little while Stephanie lifted her head.
“That’s why,” Mitch continued, undaunted by either response, “I already arranged the schedule so that they all have that day off.”
This idea was clearly a revelation to CJ. Stephanie remained stubbornly skeptical. “But how will you get them here?”
“I told them each there’s a standard skills lab I want them to complete,” he said.
“But what if they come to the beach during the day?” CJ asked.
“I assigned them workbook pages in preparation for the lab,” Mitch said. “It’s a little bit of busy work, but the review is never bad. They’re being required to perform it under supervision at HQ. Casey Jean has agreed to monitor their progress and keep them in house.”
To this, neither woman had any thoughts.
Amateurs. Mitch had plenty of thoughts. “That said, we will want to plan the party out of sight from the HQ, and we will want to make sure that we bring them lunch. CJ, I’m trusting you to handle things for Ronnie. I’ll pick up things for Summer and Brody. Stephanie, that means I need you in charge of the preparations for most of the day, mostly overseeing the setup.”
“Do we even have party planning in the budget?” Stephanie asked.
“There is a marginal budget for staff celebrations,” Mitch confirmed. “However, I’m paying for a lot of this out of pocket myself. I’ve already lined up catering for dinner, and I’ve bought drinks -- which is why this is going to be after hours. I worked out a favor with a local DJ who owed me one, so that’s at least at a discounted rate. Catering should handle plates and that sort of thing, but if we want some kind of decorations or something, I can chip in another 50 bucks or so.”
“Oh, we can chip in,” CJ said. “I can totally buy some decorations. That’s on me.”
Stephanie looked uncertain. “You paid for all of that? Catering and DJ?”
“I got a deal with the DJ,” Mitch reminded her.
Stephanie still shook her head. “That’s still not cheap. What’s the big deal about one year?”
If anyone had the right to ask the question, it was Stephanie. She’d been here a lot of years, enough years to see new recruits come and go. She’d been a mainstay, and she’d let Baywatch become her life long before any of his other lifeguards had hit the beach. Stephanie knew this beach, which made it harder for her to grasp just how much had changed over the last year.
For someone like Stephanie, Baywatch was about consistency.
This last year, however, had been all about change. People like Stephanie thought that change indicated that something was inherently wrong. However, sometimes even a good thing -- even the best things -- could still change for the better.
Mitch understood that.
He wanted others to understand it.
Mostly, he wanted to celebrate it.
“Because,” Mitch said. “What Summer, Ronnie and Brody bring to the program is invaluable. The things that have changed in the last year are things that I find very important. You could say I’m doing this for morale or for publicity or as a sign of good faith. But I’ll be honest: this past year has been the best I’ve had while at Baywatch, and I’ve had a lot of good years so that’s saying something. So yes, I want to celebrate.”
CJ actually clapped.
Stephanie exhaled heavily, nodding her head. “It has been a good year,” she conceded.
“The best,” Mitch corrected. “So make sure we have the best party, too.”
“We’re so on this,” CJ said as she got to her feet.
Stephanie followed, less enthusiastic but no less determined. “Here goes nothing.”
Mitch grunted, looking back to his work. Only when he heard the door close did he let himself smile.
Here went everything.
-o-
Surprise planning aside, it was kind of a typical day at the office for Mitch. Which was to say he didn’t spend all that much time in the office. Sure, paperwork was part of the job as a lieutenant, and he accepted that and embraced it with as much commitment as anyone could want. However, Mitch was a lifeguard, first and foremost. That meant that his office -- his real office -- was always going to be the beach.
Mitch loved the beach. There was, quite sincerely, no place he loved more. It was where he belonged. It was a part of him. There was no way to separate Mitch from the beach. Not physically, not emotionally.
As long as Mitch got to get up and go to the beach each day, he would call his life pretty good.
The fact that he got to spend his days with people he liked, cared about and respected, that made his life great.
Having a roommate and best friend to pass each night with?
Well that was the most unexpected change in the last year.
And the most important one.
Mitch knew that, though he was keen to admit it. He’d always been fine on his own. He was entirely self sufficient, and though he enjoyed the company of other people, he didn’t need outside contact to affirm who he was as a person. Living alone had always suited him just fine.
When Brody had first moved in, it had been a temporary thing.
It wasn’t temporary any more.
Sure, most people thought that the arrangement was still about Mitch doing a favor for Brody. After all, he gave Brody a great rent price, and he literally cleared out an entire room of the house for him, investing in all new bedroom furniture to give Brody some sense of home. People who were closer to them understood that this was directly related to Brody’s arrest and subsequent plea deal several months ago. Maybe they thought that the new room was a thank-you present to Brody for saving the bay at great personal cost.
That wasn’t it, though. Not exactly. Yes, Mitch was grateful for what Brody had done. He was grateful for Brody’s commitment to the bay, and he was grateful that Brody had taken down Anikka Leeds’ plot for revenge on Baywatch. And there was probably some guilt involved, considering the not so small detail that Brody had nearly died -- twice -- during the mission.
But what only a select few understood was that Mitch had offered Brody the room well before that sacrifice. That he hadn’t offered it out of pity or obligation or anything else. He’d offered it because that was what family did.
And that was what he and Brody were now.
They were family.
Mitch had always thought of Baywatch as family, and he loved his own family that lived far away. But there was something different about Brody. The commitment they’d made to each other. It went beyond the workplace.
It even went beyond the beach.
Mitch didn’t always understand that, but he knew better than to reject it. Not after the year they’d shared together.
The best they’d had.
That wasn’t to say it was perfect, however.
When Mitch got home that night, he was greeted by a mess. Brody’s mess. Mitch wasn’t a messy person. Brody hadn’t been either, not when he first moved in. However, now that Brody had things, that meant that those things were rarely put away. This was probably a good sign that Brody was adjusting psychologically to the idea of this home having permanence for him -- something not to take lightly for a foster kid with abandonment issues. However, it also drove Mitch crazy.
Really crazy.
Stepping over Brody’s sandals, he tried not to notice the empty water bottles on the table and the way Brody’s sweatshirt was hanging haphazardly off the back of a chair in the living room. He had to brace himself as he headed into the kitchen.
Part of Brody’s transition into thinking of this as home involved him feeling comfortable enough making meals. Generally, they did eat together, at least when Brody wasn’t out with Summer. While Brody had proven adept enough in the cooking -- the meals he made were edible, healthy and usually recognizable -- he had also proven completely incapable of cleaning up after himself.
To make matters worse, his cooking methods were untried and unpredictable. He often got five pans dirty instead of one, and he had yet to master the concept of soaking dishes. Sometimes, Brody attempted to do the dishes and clean up after himself, but Mitch found those results so subpar that he basically had to do it again himself anyway.
It had only been a year, he reminded himself as Brody turned to greet him. Maybe these were skills Brody would learn yet.
“Hey!” Brody said, nearly flinging sauce at Mitch from the spatula he was waving for no apparent reason. The red liquid missed Mitch but it did splatter all over the counter. Not that you could tell. The counter was already a mess from….something. “I’m trying to make spaghetti.”
That explained why there were bits of broken noodle everywhere. It also explained the red splatters all over Mitch’s once-pristine stove top.
“But I don’t get why the noodles are just, like, way too big for the pot,” Brody explained.
He also apparently didn’t get why you used a spoon instead of a spatula to stir spaghetti sauce, but then Mitch saw the spoon on the counter. Next to a ladle. And, for good measure, another spatula.
Brody shrugged, turning back to the pot and giving it a mix. “I think the sauce looks pretty good, though. I may have added too much basil, but I don’t know, I can’t tell. I think I like basil? Do you like basil?”
The basil was still on the counter. There was a large piled spilled just shy of the pot, where the noodles were starting to boil over.
“Whoa,” Brody said, catching it but not before plenty of water splashed onto Mitch’s stove top. Another stain to burn on the burner, no doubt. “Sorry about that.”
Mitch sighed, moving to the fridge to pull out the ingredients for a salad. “It smells good,” he said, because Brody was trying, at least. Mitch would try, too. And maybe tonight would be the night that Brody paid attention when Mitch taught him how to properly load a dishwasher. Again. “And I do like basil.”
Brody beamed at him. For all the times that Mitch wanted to throttle Brody for being messy and late and incompetent, there were moments like this in which Brody seemed to thrive under positive feedback. Mitch had always worked well with kids and in an instructional setting, but he’d never experienced it like this before. With an established relationship where growth was easy to measure and when so much was reciprocal. In some ways, Mitch figured this was what having children was like.
If your children were fully grown assholes with massive abandonment issues who could swim really well.
Brody demanded a lot from Mitch, but he also gave a lot, too.
That was another thing Mitch had discovered in the last year.
“Try to break your spaghetti evenly next time,” Mitch coached, nodding to the pot of boiling water. “Just snap it in half.”
“I tried that,” Brody said. “And it went, like, everywhere.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said, washing the lettuce. “I noticed.”
Brody glanced around with a wince. “Shit,” he said. “I told myself this time I wouldn’t make as big of a mess.”
That was laughable. Brody always made a big mess. It was just how Brody operated in life.
“I’ll clean it up,” Brody said, sounding frustrated right now.
“We’ll clean it up together,” Mitch said. “But I do want you to actually show me that you know what a clean pan looks like this time.”
Brody went back to stirring his sauce. “I think you’re way too picky about that shit.”
“I think I enjoy not getting food poisoning,” Mitch countered.
“Oh, that’s not even a thing,” Brody said.
“Yeah,” Mitch said, starting to cut up cucumber. “Pretty sure it is, genius.”
“No one worried about that when I was growing up,” Brody huffed, as though he was indignant.
He wasn’t. But they liked to pretend. “Whatever, dumbass,” he said. “This is our home, so we need to make an effort to keep it clean and sanitary.”
Brody looked up, grinning.
He always did that, every time Mitch mentioned our home. Six months, a year -- Mitch was pretty sure that shit was never going to get old for Brody. “Point taken,” he said. “You’ll have to show me how to load the dishwasher again, though. And, like, what cycle to pick. There are so many cycles.”
There weren’t, but Mitch shook his head with a grin of his own. He’d show Brody tonight, and probably tomorrow night.
And if they were still trying to figure this out in another year -- well, there were worse ways to spend a year.
-o-
Brody’s spaghetti wasn’t half bad.
It still took a good hour to clean the kitchen, even with Brody’s help.
Or, by all accounts, because of it.
Most people wouldn’t get it, probably. Why Mitch wanted to take on someone into his life that seemingly offered very little tangible benefit. Brody paid minimal rent -- hardly enough to count as rent -- and he took up Mitch’s space and his time. He needed explanations for simple things, and Mitch literally had to serve as Brody’s alarm clock half the time to make sure they got anywhere on time. Mitch no longer had privacy, and a lot of his free time were now spent explaining basic life tasks to a full grown man.
But that was sort of the point about family. Family wasn’t about what you got out of it. It wasn’t some balance sheet that you had to come out on top of. Family was about getting what you gave. It was give and take. It was two people who made each other better.
So okay, the spaghetti wasn’t half bad and the kitchen was a disaster. So Mitch didn’t have time to play Call of Duty on his own anymore. Mitch still had everything he had ever wanted -- everything he hadn’t known he’d wanted.
Kicking back on the couch with Brody, watching late night TV before bed.
Shit, this was all Mitch was ever going to want.
As far as he was concerned, nothing had to change ever again.
-o-
After they cleaned up together, Mitch took another 20 minutes to clean up for real. He heard Brody getting ready for bed, and he stopped in the hallway to feed the fish before glancing in the open door to Brody’s room.
A year ago, it had been Mitch’s storage room.
Six months ago, it had been a sparsely decorated new room for Brody.
Today?
Well, it was plain to see that Brody had fully settled in.
Mitch had started off with the basics, allowing Brody a few extraneous decorations just to personalize the place. As a gift, the team had invested in photographs after the incident with Anikka Leeds, which had really made it feel like a personal space. In the following six months, however, Brody had taken interior design to heart and fully embraced the idea of home.
Whenever Brody went to the store, he seemed to pick up something for his room. Once, he picked up curtains. Then he had to go buy a curtain rod because he hadn’t realized that he needed one to hand the curtains. He purchased a new rug, and then another new rug, thus leaving the two rugs to layer over each other in the small space. He bought random things that Mitch never would have expected like candles and sports figurines.
This would have all been well and good if Brody had any sense of design.
He had none.
Absolutely none.
Everything he purchased was a different style. None of the colors went together. Eclectic was too diplomatic a term for his room. It was, however, distinctively Brody’s.
Most of the time, converting a storage area into the living space would add value to a home. Mitch was pretty sure that Brody’s poor taste in decor probably made his home less attractive to buyers. Good thing Mitch wasn’t planning on moving.
And really, what was value? Was it a price on a paper?
Or the way Brody loved his room, loved his house, loved his family, loved his life?
“Hey,” he said, trying to find his voice from the doorway.
Brody turned around; he was holding one of the gold medals. “Yeah?”
Mitch made a little face. “You making sure it’s still there?”
“Nah, dusting,” Brody said. “It looked, like, dusty.”
“You need a rag for that. Using your hand just gets fingerprints on it,” Mitch advised.
Brody looked a little more closely at it. “Huh,” he said. “Do we have rags?”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll find one for you tomorrow.”
Brody put the medal back on the shelf. Mitch had created a display place for Brody when he set up the room. Brody had come into the house with very few possessions; the only one of any real value had been those two gold medals. It had only seemed appropriate to display them. After all, Mitch didn’t want Brody to forget his past. It was still a part of him. A very important part. The past made people who they were, and the Olympics, for better or worse, would always define Brody.
“Anyway,” Mitch said. “Early day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Brody said, turning back toward him. “Do we really have to spend all day doing training? Because I was talking to Summer--”
Mitch shook his head. “It’s required,” he said. “You’ve been here a year. You’ve got to refresh your skills.”
Brody groaned a little. “Yeah, a year,” he said. “I’m doing okay, aren’t I?”
The truth was, Brody was doing more than okay. Brody was doing excellent. Shit, Brody was the best damn lifeguard on that beach. Mitch would never have predicted it a year ago, not with Brody’s laziness, selfishness and utter stupidity. But Brody had proven him wrong, a hundred times over.
And it wasn’t just about dedication, passion and loyalty. Brody had those qualities -- and they were probably the most important for any lifeguard on Baywatch.
But Brody had more.
That was the part that was so striking to Mitch.
It wasn’t just that Brody loved his job or was passionate about his job. He was just really good at it. Mitch didn’t generally compare his lifeguards, but he kept statistics. Brody had more saves than any other lifeguard on the beach -- Mitch included. Brody was always the first one in the water, and he was second only to Mitch in being the first one to a victim once they hit the water. He was stronger, faster and more thorough. He could hold his breath, he could cut through a riptide, and he could use raw strength to get any victim to safety -- again and again.
In short, if you were looking for a beach to drown on -- Brody’s was the one to do it on. Because nine times out of ten, he would save your ass, no matter how stupid you were.
Literally. Nine times out of ten.
Mitch had the statistics to prove it.
He’d never told anyone that, especially not Brody. And that wasn’t why he cared about Brody; that wasn’t why they were family.
It still meant something, however. Maybe it meant that Brody was Mitch’s true protege. Maybe it meant that Brody had found exactly his true calling at Baywatch. Maybe it meant that Brody was going to follow in Mitch’s footsteps, become lieutenant one day and man tower one in Mitch’s stead.
Not that Mitch had thought about that.
A lot.
“You’re doing fine,” Mitch said, purposefully obtuse. “And you’ll do fine tomorrow. In training. Where you belong.”
Brody huffed and flopped back on his bed. “Okay, okay,” he said. “We’re leaving at 7?”
“Try 6:30,” Mitch said as he started down the hall to his own room..
“I’ll set my alarm!” Brody called after him.
“Okay!” Mitch called back, shaking his head with a smile.
He didn’t need an alarm; he would be up at 5:30 anyway, ready for a run and breakfast. He’d make sure Brody was up and ready to go on time after he slept through the alarm like he always did.
After a year, Mitch had this whole thing figured out.
-o-
Mitch had gone through a lot of trouble to keep the party a secret, though most of those efforts were wasted on Brody. Brody, for as attentive as he was when he was in the water, was pretty much oblivious to most other things. It didn’t help that he wasn’t awake most mornings until he hit the beach, but Mitch was pretty sure he could have planned the party in his own damn living room and Brody wouldn’t have noticed.
Hell, Mitch could have left Brody on duty today and he would have watched the preparations going down and never put two and two together. This could be a reflection of Brody’s intelligence, but in this case, Mitch had to think it was more attributed to Brody’s assumption that good things still didn’t happen to him. He’d never guess that someone would go through the trouble of planning a party for him, not even after a year of being a part of Baywatch and being Mitch’s family.
That was one huge reason why the party mattered.
Sure, the party was technically for all three of the new recruits. Summer and Ronnie were equally important to the team, and Mitch in no way wanted to downplay their contributions. But, if he had to be honest, it was mostly for Brody.
Because Brody had changed so much in a year. More than any of them could imagine.
And also because it was going to be hilarious to see Brody’s face when he realized what was going on.
It actually had Mitch a little giddy, and he was regretting the fact that he’d left Stephanie and CJ in charge of setting things up while he tended to tower one. He would rather be down there, hanging streamers or whatever the hell CJ was trying to do. He would rather be with Stephanie, interrogating the caterer about their appetizers.
Shit, Mitch would even rather be with Brody, Summer and Ronnie in this half-assed training session he’d had Casey Jean orchestrate.
Of all the times to be stuck on the beach.
The irony wasn’t lost on Mitch.
He loved the beach. He did. He just, well -- maybe he’d finally come to reckon with the fact that he loved Baywatch more.
A little more.
Marginally more.
Whatever.
Today, it was a lot more and that was just going to be the way it was.
Today and only today, he relented, tearing his eyes away from the party prep. He had a clear view of the set up from tower one. He had an equally clear view of HQ, where he found himself looking for Brody and the others even though he knew there was no chance of them being outside. This was the one drawback to family: Mitch trusted them all to do their tasks so much that he’d left himself with nothing to do.
Nothing.
Well, except watch the beach. Since he was technically on duty. And he was technically a lifeguard. The senior lifeguard. Entrusted with the safekeeping of every person on this stretch of beach.
Thus resolved, Mitch studied the beach again, making note of the kids playing in the water, the surfers out from shore. He noted a pair of suspicious people wandering up near the umbrellas but deemed them just to be awkward teenagers trying to figure out if they liked each other. He watched as a little girl tried to put on sunscreen by putting it in her mouth. Mitch was about to intervene when her mother stopped her.
A married couple was kissing and might need to be broken up. A ten year old was wading out a little farther than Mitch was comfortable.
And CJ was hanging balloons now. How was she anchoring them?
Mitch put down his binoculars. Damn it. This party wasn’t even for him. So why was he so stupid and excited about it? It was just a party. A party was nothing.
Except it was something.
Mitch had been planning this party for close to two weeks. That was actually not a lot of time from the inception to the execution, and it was only by his immense popularity and well established connections in the bay that he was able to align everything so perfectly on such a short timeline. The caterer had grumbled but agreed that for Mitch Buchanan, two weeks was doable. The DJ had laughed, saying that for most people, he needed a month easy, but Mitch was an exception.
In short, only Mitch could throw a party in two weeks.
Except, to Mitch, this party wasn’t one with a two-week lead. In all honesty, this was a party that was a year in the making. It was a celebration he’d been enjoying ever since Brody led the motley crew in his absence and started the final push to save the bay. Sure, Mitch had had a nice little talk when he welcomed the three new recruits to the team full time, but this party was going to be a full commemoration.
This was the way to cement the team, to establish that yes, they were Baywatch.
That would never changed.
Not for anything.
Resolved, he picked up his binoculars again, directing his gaze away from the party prep and back to his stretch of beach. There was comfort and familiarity in the routine, after all. This had been a year in the making.
As he got back to work, he resolved that he might as well enjoy it.
-o-
Like most things Mitch put his mind to, the party was a success. The decorations were perfect, the food was delectable, and the music was excellent. The whole Baywatch crew was on hand, and turnout f on the local businesses and frequent beach goers was even stronger than Mitch might have anticipated. It was a public beach, after all, and Mitch knew that the success of his lifeguards was not merely for inside appreciation. He had no problems sharing his team with the bay.
Best of all, however, was the fact that Mitch pulled off the surprise. Summer handled it best, smiling broadly and hugging everyone when she realized. Ronnie looked like he shit himself, and CJ had to keep him grounded enough to stay.
Brody, for his part, stood dumbfounded for several seconds. He has clapped, patting Ronnie on the back and giving Summer a peck on the cheek. But when people started to congratulate him, he looked confused. Then, he stared at the sign.
Congratulations Summer, Ronnie and Brody!
Mitch could actually see his eyes rereading the sign. Reading it. again. Then one more time before he became transfixed with his own name.
This was a guy who had won two gold medals and still held the world record in the 200. He’d been interviewed on national TV and been the topic of countless blog post, news articles, and memes. And, in all that, no one had ever thrown him a surprise party.
In fact, Mitch wouldn’t be surprised if this were his first party ever.
That was heartbreaking in some ways, to watch him struggle to understand.
But when he did get it, when he started to smile as his face lit up.
That was about the best thing ever.
For Brody.
And for Mitch.
It didn’t matter how much it cost, how inconvenient it was, if it was a bad precedent to set. Mitch had no regrets about this party.
Baywatch lifeguards hugged Brody. Local business owners shook his hand. Beach goers took selfies with him. Brody beamed, his confidence visibly burgeoning with each interaction.
Mitch would never have a single regret about any of this.
-o-
After allowing everyone to eat a little bit, Mitch found himself anxious. Not that he wanted the party to be over -- no, he fully intended to let this one go into the night now that everyone was off duty -- but he wanted to make sure that everyone knew why they were here.
Why Mitch had brought them all here.
That meant the crowd, the lifeguards, and Baywatch’s three newest recruits all at the same time. The DJ gave Mitch a microphone, but it wasn’t hard to call everyone to attention. Mitch had that kind of power; people listened to him. He liked to think it was because he was a good person who was committed to doing what was right.
But it probably didn’t hurt that he was huge.
All the same, he had a glass to toast with, the attention of the crowd, and three very important sentiments he wanted to share.
“We’ve had a lot of people come and go at Baywatch over the years, a lot of really good people,” he began. “They’ve all been people worthy of your praise and celebration, just like every current staff member.”
He nodded, looking purposefully at his current staff, eyes lingering on CJ and Stephanie in particular.
“So you may wonder, then,” Mitch continued, addressing the full crowd again. “What is it that makes this recruiting class so special. Why does this class of lifeguards deserve its own celebration?”
The crowd was watching, listening curiously.
Mitch smiled. “Honestly, they all deserve it, they always have,” he said. “But usually I like to think we’re all just doing our jobs. Usually, I don’t like to make a big deal out of that. Protecting the bay, that’s the service we are entrusted with. Each and every lifeguard here knows that.”
The crowd, lifeguards and community members alike, nodded solemnly.
“But what not everyone fully realizes is that a year ago, we nearly lost everything. Baywatch nearly fell apart, and the bay was nearly bought out. Everything we valued, every one of us here on this beach, was nearly lost. And I’m not going to pretend like a lot of people didn’t have a part in saving it, because they did. But I do know that the new recruiting class proved their mettle under the most trying times. They face dangers that went far beyond their duties as lifeguards. Even when I was out of the fight, they made sure it kept going. The three of them, working together, saved their own jobs, saved Baywatch, saved the bay. And they saved me.”
This time, his eyes rested on Summer and Ronnie, who were smiling at him. Behind them, Brody had his head ducked.
All the more reason to continue.
“First, Ronnie. When you first look at Ronnie, most people don’t get it. But the instant you talk to Ronnie, then it becomes pretty clear. Ronnie has always had the passion that defines a Baywatch lifeguard. His love of the job surpasses anyone else standing on this beach,” Mitch said. Ronnie’s cheeks were red, but he was beaming. “That passion got him this job, and it keeps him as one of the most important people on this beach, day in and day out.”
The crowd murmured in agreement, several people patting Ronnie on the arm.
“Then, of course, we have Summer Quinn. Summer is by the book, honestly. She works hard, she studies hard, and she’s the complete package. Her dedication to the job -- to doing what is right -- makes her an instant leader and an invaluable member of the Baywatch team.” Summer was trying to look modest, but her smile was impossible to hide. Her blue eyes were bright as she met Mitch’s gaze. “That dedication has taken Summer above and beyond the call of duty, and she never complains. Because, to her, that’s just what the job is.”
There was an even louder rumble of approval this time. Stephanie gave her shoulder a squeeze.
Mitch cleared his throat, persisting on. “That leaves us with one more member of last year’s recruiting class,” he said, and his eyes cut through the crowd where Brody was still willfully not looking at anything. “Matt Brody.”
At the sound of his name, Brody flinched. The rest of the crowd instinctively parted, and both Ronnie and Summer turned back to look at Brody. Suddenly finding himself in the center of attention, Brody glanced up anxiously and tried to smile. The effect was awkward.
Which just made Mitch grin. “A year ago, most people knew Matt Brody as an Olympic gold medalist. And a year ago, he was the absolute last person I wanted to put on my team. In fact, it wasn’t even my choice. I was told that I had to hire him, and I hated every minute of it.”
Brody was looking down again, more steadfastly than before.
“And I made his life hell,” Mitch said. “I worked him harder, I held him to impossible standards, and I had no problems humiliating him. Because I knew he had a lot to learn, a lot to change, if he was going to be a part of this Baywatch team.”
The crowd was reacting, but Mitch wasn’t paying much attention to them anymore. His attention was zeroing in with increasing focus on Brody.
“But then, he surprised me,” Mitch said. “Brody made a choice to be a part of this team, and he committed to that choice in a way I didn’t expect. I’m not going to say that he was perfect, because he wasn’t, but he was ready to learn. He was ready to give everything he had. Against all odds, he became exactly the leader Baywatch needed. In fact, when I was temporarily relieved of my post last year, it was Brody who stepped. It was Brody who filled the gap. It was Brody who overcame his own limitations and the assumptions of his team to bring them together and save the bay. It was Brody.”
He could hear the crowd distantly, a small rumble of applause. But Mitch didn’t fixate on that, not as Brody slowly lifted his gaze and nervously looked back at Mitch for the first time.
“That was a year ago,” Mitch said. “And today, we all know who Matt Brody is. Matt Brody may have been an Olympian. He may have been a world record holder. But today, we all know that Matt Brody is a lifeguard.”
Brody’s face was colorless, and he blinked a few times.
“Matt Brody is the guy you want on the beach, watching out for you,” Mitch continued. “He’s the one you want diving in to save you if you ever get into trouble. That’s who Matt Brody is. He’s Baywatch.”
This time, there was a small eruption of cheers, and Mitch could see Brody visibly trembling, even as Summer slid up next to him, as if to hold him up instinctively.
Mitch raised his glass. “That’s why we’re here to celebrate last year’s recruiting class at Baywatch,” he announced, looking back out at the crowd again. “For their passion, for their dedication, for the way the exemplify everything Baywatch is all about. Here’s to one year -- and many more.”
There was a cry of agreement as everyone raised their glasses and drank with him. Over the raucous, Mitch watched as Brody took a tentative sip, eyes diverting downward, even as Summer hugged him and Ronnie clapped him on the back and CJ and Stephanie rounded on them with the rest of the crew.
The perfect toast to a perfect team.
Capping off a perfect year.
-o-
After the toast, the party really got started. That meant dancing and music and drinks and small talk.
In moderation, of course.
Mitch had all appropriate permits in place for the gathering, but these were lifeguards. They weren’t known for being unruly. If they were, they wouldn’t be a part of Mitch’s team.
Still, it was a good party. People were having fun, and Mitch took some pleasure in that as he made the rounds toward the three people of honor.
He found Ronnie first.
Ronnie was still trying to achieve a Baywatch body, but his attempts at dieting and exercise had yielded minimal results. Still, he was persistent, which was why he had barely eaten most of the food that CJ had packed onto a plate for him. She said she liked him chunky. He said he wanted to stop jiggling.
Mitch just never wanted to hear these conversations at all.
“Hey,” he said, shaking Ronnie’s hand while Ronnie fumbled not to drop his plate. “The man of the hour.”
Ronnie giggled. Yes, giggled. Ronnie did stuff like that. “I can’t believe it’s really been a year!”
“Time flies, my man,” Mitch said. “And I hope you’ve enjoyed being here as much as we’ve enjoyed having you.”
Ronnie went instantly serious, as he always did when talking about being a Baywatch lifeguard. “It’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said, ever earnest. “Shit, Mitch. The best. I still feel like the last year has been some kind of dream and that I’m going to wake up and have to go back to being some stupid tech guy.”
“Not going to happen,” Mitch assured him. “Putting you on the squad is something I will never regret.”
People always responded well to Mitch. He had a natural ability to bolster people. He was damn good at pep talks.
But no one responded quite like Ronnie.
Shit, giving Ronnie compliments was personally gratifying. His face just lit up.
“Thanks, Mitch,” he said, and he stood taller than before. “Thanks.”
Mitch patted him on the back. “No, man,” he said, gesturing at Ronnie as he made his way through the crowd again. “Thank you.”
-o-
After Ronnie, Summer found him.
She was like that. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. It wasn’t that Summer was less passionate than Ronnie, it was just that she approached it so much more logically. Ronnie had never thought he had a chance; Summer had always believed she did. Her belief was a personal dedication, and it made her capable, poised and teachable.
He liked Summer.
He liked her a lot.
“Mitch, I just -- I wanted to say thank you,” she said, making a general gesture to the festivities. “I mean, I don’t think I deserve or anything, but thank you.”
“You do deserve it,” he said. “Your work has been exemplary last year, and I know how much you did for the Leeds investigation when you were still in training.”
“I was just following your lead, honestly,” she said. “You are the best example.”
Mitch bobbed his head politely. “Don’t sell yourself short. A lot of people can learn the rules and regulations for being a lifeguard, but you knew from the beginning how to put the theory into practice. At the rate you’re going, I think you’ll be a lieutenant sooner rather than later.”
Mitch was always good at knowing the right thing to say at the right time. Better still, he knew how to find the right truths for the moment.
Summer all but blossomed at the compliment. “I’ll do my best not to let you down,” she vowed.
“I know you will,” he said, nodding at her as he started again through the crowd. “Hey, have you seen Brody, by the way?”
“Uh, yeah,” she said, pointing off in the other direction, closer toward the water. “I left him eating something over there.”
“Great, thanks,” Mitch said, weaving his way through the crowd once more.
-o-
Ronnie was to find; Summer found him.
Brody, naturally, tended to do things his own way.
The difficult way.
Ultimately, the Brody way.
Though Brody was tucked away at the edge of the party, standing along the line of the sand closest to the water, he still seemed to be fending off well wishers. Mitch watched as community members and other lifeguards stopped by to shake Brody’s hand before Brody politely saw them on their way. As Mitch approached, Chen was giving Brody a heart handshake and a thank you, and Mitch heard the business owner offer a free double chocolate shake the next time Brody stopped by.
Brody thanked him with a chuckle that Mitch recognized well enough. As Chen walked away, there was no way Brody would be going back to the store now -- for a free shake or anything else.
They’d come a long way in a year, but Mitch could tell there was still work to be done with Brody. Because Brody had become a good lifeguard. He’d become an active team member. And he’d even become Mitch’s best friend -- his brother, by all accounts.
And Brody flourished in all of those roles.
But even after all that, Brody still found it damn near impossible to think he deserved a place in the wider community. Mitch knew that part of that came from Brody’s struggle with the concept of family, his own innate abandonment issues. That much had been made clear to Mitch six months ago, when a play for cash from Brody’s birth mom had exposed Brody’s deepest insecurities.
Mitch suspected it was more than that.
He suspected it was why Brody still looked wistfully at his two gold medals each night.
Because while Brody was ready to embrace a new version of himself, a new life -- he didn’t believe that anyone else was really ready to see him that way outside of Mitch and a select other few. Because Brody, no matter what else he’d accomplished, was still the jackass who’d vomited in the pool at the Olympics and gotten himself arrested on the way home.
Those were mistakes Brody had made himself, no doubt.
And he was the one who was going to have the hardest time letting them go.
Waiting until Chen was gone, Mitch came closer and smiled. “This is a party, Brody,” he said. “It’s supposed to be fun.”
Brody laughed, almost out of relief. “It is,” he said, and when he realized how unconvincing he sounded, he added. “It really is. You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”
Mitch allowed himself a snort. They could be emotionally vulnerable, the two of them. All they’d been through together, it was sort of necessary. Still, they responded to each other best through banter.
“Eh, Summer and Ronnie deserved it,” he said. “Just had to bring you along for the ride.”
It wasn’t true, at all. And Brody knew it. He smiled. “If anything, I owe you a party,” he said. “I mean, you’ve put up with me for a year?”
“That’s only true at home, where you still don’t know how to clean up after yourself,” Mitch said.
Brody opened his mouth in protest.
But Mitch continued, more sincere now. “But here? On duty? Come on, buddy. You know you’re good at this job.”
Brody shrugged a little, as if to concede the point. “I’ve a lot of help,” he said. “I mean, you are always on me to make sure I do the right thing. Summer studied with me, like, all the time.”
These things were true, but Brody was forgetting the important thing. Mitch pinned him with a quizzical look. “You do realize that Summer hasn’t studied with you in months,” he said. “And when was the last time I had to coach you on anything besides how to load a dishwasher?”
That question left Brody momentarily speechless. Altogether, that wasn’t a bad state for Brody to be in, but this wasn’t about putting Brody in his place. Or, maybe it was. It was just that Brody’s place was better than Brody thought it was.
“This party was for you, even more than the others,” he said, because he had no qualms admitting it. Summer and Ronnie would have no problem hearing it. The only person who would struggle with it was standing right in front of him. At Brody’s blank look, Mitch continued. “This past year, I’ve watched you transform yourself. I mean, completely. You aren’t the same guy who arrived at the beach.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment,” Brody said with a self deprecating chuckle.
“It is, jackass,” Mitch said, and he nudged him. “You know it is.”
Brody looked up, quiet and reserved. He glanced out at the water. “I know.”
“Anyway, buck up,” Mitch said, a bit more cavalier again. “This is your party. You ought to look like you enjoy it a little bit.”
With a chagrined nod, Brody followed Mitch’s lead. “Okay, okay,” he said. “It is a pretty good party.”
“You better believe it,” Mitch said, more resounding now. “I only work with the best.”
If that had a double meaning -- well, Mitch would let Brody figure out whether it was intentional or not.
-o-
In reality, Mitch didn’t actually like parties. Most people didn’t realize that about him, although he knew that almost no one had seen him at a party by choice. Still, it wasn’t like he went around talking bad about parties. He just had never been one to seek them out. He didn’t particularly care for the loud music and the dim lights, and he didn’t mind dancing and drinking, but the amount of alcohol consumed by most people at a party didn’t make the dancing anything Mitch enjoyed.
So the fact that he himself planned a huge party on the beach?
Well, it was more significant than anyone realized.
That said, it was barely twilight when Mitch was about ready to pack it in. The true party scene was starting to pick up steam on the boardwalk behind them, and casual beach goers were starting to go home for the night. Families were eating ice cream out on the pier, and the food was starting to run a little on the thin side.
CJ and Stephanie, as his cohorts in planning, didn’t need to be told. Stephanie made sure everyone was paid, and CJ started gathering up the supplies. The rest of the team began pitching in -- that was just the way they worked -- and Summer and Ronnie were giving more hugs to everyone who had come to celebrate.
But where was Brody?
In all of this, he’d touched base with Brody occasionally. After chatting with him after the toasts, Brody had dutifully talked to as many people as he could. Mitch noticed his efforts to approach people, to thank them for coming and to express his gratitude for being a part of Baywatch. Yet, despite these efforts, Brody seemed to always manage to duck away before the conversation got more personal than that.
Moreover, wherever there was a crowd of raucous laughter, Brody was noticeably absent. He spent too much time at the food table, but every time Mitch rounded on him to get his ass back to mingling, the kid somehow disappeared.
Now, as the crowd was starting to thin out, Brody was critically a no-show.
One might think he had no interest in cleaning up.
Which Brody wasn’t good at cleaning up and he had no natural inclination toward it, but he generally did like to do things when it seemed like other people needed help. But he wasn’t taking down the banners or packing up balloons or folding tables.
No, there Brody was, back on the edge of the party, overlooking the water.
Sighing, Mitch started over toward him, to corral him back into being a social person again. He only got two steps, however, when Brody started to run.
He knew Brody was uncomfortable, but to run away?
That was weird.
Mitch followed his trajectory, and realized that Brody wasn’t running away from the party.
No, he was running toward a different commotions.
Mitch’s gaze veered ahead, toward the pier where someone was screaming and shouting and pointing to the water. In the water, Mitch realized only a fraction of a second later, was an overturned jetski. A figure was flailing in the water.
Shit, Mitch thought.
It was a victim.
Well, it was a good thing this was a party of lifeguards.
Mitch started running. He’d started no more than a few seconds after Brody, but the smaller man already had a considerable lead. Mitch’s legs were longer, but his sheer bulk worked against him. As fast as he was, Brody could still outpace him in a sprint.
If anyone asked later, Mitch could easily blame the head start. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been off duty and training to manage a party. It was Brody’s fault for being antisocial and self deprecating.
Someone might live tonight because Brody had serious attachment issues.
The reason notwithstanding, Mitch narrowed his focus on the goal.
Someone would live tonight.
Mitch was going to make sure of that.
-o-
Mitch had the determination, speed and skill.
So did Brody, however.
Moreover, Brody had seen it first, he was closer to the water, and he was faster.
All things considered, Brody was going to get the save tonight.
This wasn’t about ego -- not in the least. Mitch dove into the surf after Brody because it was getting dim outside, visibility was reduced, and the area near the pier was particularly dangerous for its riptides and obstacles in the water. There was no shame in playing backup -- not for him, not for Brody.
He was surprised, then, when Brody pulled the flailing man toward him and promptly turned toward Mitch. Mitch had closed the gap, and Brody was almost swimming back toward him, dragging the man with him. “Here, get him back!” Brody yelled at him over the sound of the waves.
Mitch took the victim, but gave Brody a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“There’s another victim!” Brody said.
“What?”
“I saw it happen!” Brody told him. “There were two people on the jetski!”
“But in these conditions, you’ll never see under the water--”
“I have to try, don’t I?” Brody asked, like it was obvious.
On one level, yes, it was obvious. It was exactly what Mitch would say. It was exactly what he was do.
But treading water, the guy still spluttering in Mitch’s arm, it didn’t seem so obvious. Because if Brody went back, if Brody went under -- in these conditions -- there was a chance he wasn’t coming back up. These water were treacherous enough in this kind of tide, and Brody was working against strong waves where rocks and cement footings were in place. One back wave, and Brody wouldn’t even be able to see it when he hit something. He could be knocked out and never come back up.
It was a job that required expert swimming and sound judgment. It was a job Mitch would only trust to himself.
But Brody wasn’t giving him a choice.
“Go, get backup!” Brody yelled, kicking off toward the jetski before Mitch could stop him. “Get him safe!”
Mitch watched Brody go, cutting through the waves.
He watched Brody go.
Not sure if he was proud or disappointed that Brody never looked back.
-o-
The thing was, Brody didn’t need to look back. Because he knew exactly what he was doing. Mitch watched, pulling slightly away from the pier just for safety reasons, as Brody approximated a course to the jetski, then compensated astutely for the motion of the waves and the direction of the riptide. Then, he took a deep breath, still judging his location in regards to the rocks, the pier and the last known location of the victim, and dove in.
Distantly, Mitch could hear the commotion growing at the beach. Somewhere, there were sirens, which meant that help was appropriately in place. He spared a glance at the victim. The man -- mid 20s, probably a little drunk, but breathing -- was fine, quickly recovering his wits, but he had sense enough not to fight Mitch.
That was good. Mitch wanted the guy to be okay.
He also didn’t want to leave the scene.
Not until he was sure that Brody was leaving with him.
He kept his position, having to tread against the current as it tried to pull him toward the pier and closer to the rocks. He held back a curse, rotating slightly to both put himself in the closer position to the danger and to give himself a better vantage point of the jetski and the water where Brody had dived.
He wasn’t being anxious. He wasn’t worrying.
This was professional diligence.
He couldn’t hide the fact that he let out the breath he was holding when Brody surfaced again. It was short lived, however. Brody was alone.
Shit, the victim was still underwater.
With a deep gulping breath, Brody was, too.
“Is he going Josh?” the guy asked, finally starting to tread a little water on his own. “He’s got to find Josh!”
Mitch was usually good with comfort in the heat of crisis. He was usually very adept at calming people down, even when peril was still present.
But Mitch had no words of comfort this time.
Not when his own heart was pounding rapidly. Not when Brody was still underwater while the light was fading and the tide picked up.
“Come on,” Mitch hissed. “Come on, Brody!”
Feeling himself begin to panic -- just slightly -- he turned toward the shore. He could get this guy to safety and get back out to the water to help. Maybe if he turned, Stephanie or CJ or Summer or Ronnie could help. Maybe he needed to go down and drag Brody back up with his own two hands.
Not for the first time.
Shit.
“Brody!”
Then, right before he started to move, Brody broke the surface again.
This time, dragging another man with him.
“Josh?!” Mitch’s victim asked. “Josh!”
Josh was unresponsive, though, and Brody was already starting the arduous haul back to the shore. Within seconds, his powerful strides had passed Mitch, and Mitch remembered only to move in Brody’s wake. He followed Brody back, supporting his victim while he struggled to get his feet and watching as Brody hoisted the man up, jogging up the shore to the waiting opening in the sand.
The rest of the team was there, helping lower Josh to the ground. And Brody fell away while the paramedics stepped in, ready to render aid. On solid ground, Mitch’s victim took off, calling Josh’s name, and Mitch watched only half hearted as the resuscitation continued.
The crowd gathered, watching with bated breath. Mitch’s gaze settled on Brody, however. Winded, the younger man was heaving for air, hands on his knees as he tried to recover from the exertion. It didn’t look like a long swim, but Mitch knew those waters. He knew that Brody had made that swim faster than anyone else could, carrying a full grown man after being underwater for an extended period of time.
To call it impressive would be an understatement.
To call it a rescue that few could pull off -- would be accurate.
The thing was Mitch wasn’t even surprised.
There was a cheer from the crowd as the victim on the beach took a breath. Brody straightened up in time to see the man spit up water as the paramedics rolled him to the side and started to assess him. Everyone clapped in relief as Brody checked in with the victims, both of them, making sure they were okay before melting away from the crowd.
He didn’t stay for a thank-you.
He didn’t stay for and well regards or praise.
As he passed Mitch, he shrugged sheepishly. “Kind of ruined the party,” he said. “Sorry.”
Mitch glanced back at the abandoned tent, still half set up from the gathering. He looked at the the two victims being helped into the back of an ambulance while the crowd continued to disperse.
It wasn’t what Mitch had planned.
He looked at Brody, finding himself smiling.
Somehow it was still exactly what he needed.
What everyone needed.
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
A/N: Fills my forced to face fear square. Unbeta’ed. Part of the Gold Medal Verse.
Summary: A year ago, Brody had been a different person with different plans. Mitch knew for sure that Brody had changed as a person, but did he know for sure that his plans had changed?
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
-o-
It had been a year.
In some ways, that wasn’t such a long period of time. Honestly, most of the time, it didn’t feel that way to Mitch. In so many ways, it felt like the blink of an eye. Time had flown.
In other ways, however, it was surprisingly long. A full year. And when Mitch looked back, he was surprised by how different life had been for him a year ago.
Sure, he still had the same job. He still lived in the same house and maintained the same routine. The only thing that had changed was Matt Brody.
One change that changed everything.
One year that felt like the best of his life.
If anyone had told him he’d feel this way a year ago, when Brody’s cocky dumb ass first showed up on his beach, Mitch would have laughed at them.
And now, here he was.
Planning a surprise party.
To celebrate the one year anniversary of Brody, Summer and Ronnie’s addition to the Baywatch team.
A lot could change in a year, after all.
Thank God that it was for the better.
Especially since who was to say where they might be in another year.
-o-
“I just don’t know if we can feasibly keep it a surprise,” Stephanie said.
“But it has to be a surprise!” CJ countered. “Or it’s not a surprise party!”
Stephanie leveled a look at her. “You can’t plan a surprise party on the beach at the end of the day for lifeguards,” she said. “Their whole job is to be vigilant. If they didn’t see the preparations, we would have to fire them.”
CJ groaned. “You lack all imagination!” she complained. “Mitch, tell her.”
“No way,” Mitch said, not looking up from his paperwork. “I’m not getting involved with this.”
“It was your idea,” Stephanie said, gesturing at him from her place on a chair across from his desk..
“It was a great idea!” CJ enthused. She was sitting up straight in the other chair, ever ready to go.
“We’ve never done it before,” Stephanie said, not quite arguing but pretty much.
“So it’s a new tradition,” CJ said.
“You just like it because your boyfriend’s on the team,” Stephanie told her.
CJ scoffed. “And maybe you’re just jealous because you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Hey!” Stephanie said.
This time, Mitch did look up. Because while it might be amusing to see two of his most trusted lifeguards go after each other, it was not what he needed right now. Or ever. “It is a break with tradition, I know that,” Mitch conceded, placating both of them at the same time. “But this last year has been a very important one here at Baywatch. We’ve had a higher retention rate for our staff -- at levels we’ve never seen before. Our save rate is significantly improved -- and that’s bearing in mind that it was good before. On top of that, our public relations front has never been stronger. Baywatch has always defined the bay, but we’re doing it in a whole new way now. Now, that’s a team effort, on all of us. But I think we can all be confident that our recruiting class last year has gone above and beyond in their dedication. I don’t have to remind you who were the three central players in taking down Leeds last year and saving the bay?”
CJ was beaming, and even Stephanie couldn’t argue it.
“That said,” Mitch said. “Stephanie’s right. We can’t plan a surprise party if they’re all on the beach.”
CJ slumped a little while Stephanie lifted her head.
“That’s why,” Mitch continued, undaunted by either response, “I already arranged the schedule so that they all have that day off.”
This idea was clearly a revelation to CJ. Stephanie remained stubbornly skeptical. “But how will you get them here?”
“I told them each there’s a standard skills lab I want them to complete,” he said.
“But what if they come to the beach during the day?” CJ asked.
“I assigned them workbook pages in preparation for the lab,” Mitch said. “It’s a little bit of busy work, but the review is never bad. They’re being required to perform it under supervision at HQ. Casey Jean has agreed to monitor their progress and keep them in house.”
To this, neither woman had any thoughts.
Amateurs. Mitch had plenty of thoughts. “That said, we will want to plan the party out of sight from the HQ, and we will want to make sure that we bring them lunch. CJ, I’m trusting you to handle things for Ronnie. I’ll pick up things for Summer and Brody. Stephanie, that means I need you in charge of the preparations for most of the day, mostly overseeing the setup.”
“Do we even have party planning in the budget?” Stephanie asked.
“There is a marginal budget for staff celebrations,” Mitch confirmed. “However, I’m paying for a lot of this out of pocket myself. I’ve already lined up catering for dinner, and I’ve bought drinks -- which is why this is going to be after hours. I worked out a favor with a local DJ who owed me one, so that’s at least at a discounted rate. Catering should handle plates and that sort of thing, but if we want some kind of decorations or something, I can chip in another 50 bucks or so.”
“Oh, we can chip in,” CJ said. “I can totally buy some decorations. That’s on me.”
Stephanie looked uncertain. “You paid for all of that? Catering and DJ?”
“I got a deal with the DJ,” Mitch reminded her.
Stephanie still shook her head. “That’s still not cheap. What’s the big deal about one year?”
If anyone had the right to ask the question, it was Stephanie. She’d been here a lot of years, enough years to see new recruits come and go. She’d been a mainstay, and she’d let Baywatch become her life long before any of his other lifeguards had hit the beach. Stephanie knew this beach, which made it harder for her to grasp just how much had changed over the last year.
For someone like Stephanie, Baywatch was about consistency.
This last year, however, had been all about change. People like Stephanie thought that change indicated that something was inherently wrong. However, sometimes even a good thing -- even the best things -- could still change for the better.
Mitch understood that.
He wanted others to understand it.
Mostly, he wanted to celebrate it.
“Because,” Mitch said. “What Summer, Ronnie and Brody bring to the program is invaluable. The things that have changed in the last year are things that I find very important. You could say I’m doing this for morale or for publicity or as a sign of good faith. But I’ll be honest: this past year has been the best I’ve had while at Baywatch, and I’ve had a lot of good years so that’s saying something. So yes, I want to celebrate.”
CJ actually clapped.
Stephanie exhaled heavily, nodding her head. “It has been a good year,” she conceded.
“The best,” Mitch corrected. “So make sure we have the best party, too.”
“We’re so on this,” CJ said as she got to her feet.
Stephanie followed, less enthusiastic but no less determined. “Here goes nothing.”
Mitch grunted, looking back to his work. Only when he heard the door close did he let himself smile.
Here went everything.
-o-
Surprise planning aside, it was kind of a typical day at the office for Mitch. Which was to say he didn’t spend all that much time in the office. Sure, paperwork was part of the job as a lieutenant, and he accepted that and embraced it with as much commitment as anyone could want. However, Mitch was a lifeguard, first and foremost. That meant that his office -- his real office -- was always going to be the beach.
Mitch loved the beach. There was, quite sincerely, no place he loved more. It was where he belonged. It was a part of him. There was no way to separate Mitch from the beach. Not physically, not emotionally.
As long as Mitch got to get up and go to the beach each day, he would call his life pretty good.
The fact that he got to spend his days with people he liked, cared about and respected, that made his life great.
Having a roommate and best friend to pass each night with?
Well that was the most unexpected change in the last year.
And the most important one.
Mitch knew that, though he was keen to admit it. He’d always been fine on his own. He was entirely self sufficient, and though he enjoyed the company of other people, he didn’t need outside contact to affirm who he was as a person. Living alone had always suited him just fine.
When Brody had first moved in, it had been a temporary thing.
It wasn’t temporary any more.
Sure, most people thought that the arrangement was still about Mitch doing a favor for Brody. After all, he gave Brody a great rent price, and he literally cleared out an entire room of the house for him, investing in all new bedroom furniture to give Brody some sense of home. People who were closer to them understood that this was directly related to Brody’s arrest and subsequent plea deal several months ago. Maybe they thought that the new room was a thank-you present to Brody for saving the bay at great personal cost.
That wasn’t it, though. Not exactly. Yes, Mitch was grateful for what Brody had done. He was grateful for Brody’s commitment to the bay, and he was grateful that Brody had taken down Anikka Leeds’ plot for revenge on Baywatch. And there was probably some guilt involved, considering the not so small detail that Brody had nearly died -- twice -- during the mission.
But what only a select few understood was that Mitch had offered Brody the room well before that sacrifice. That he hadn’t offered it out of pity or obligation or anything else. He’d offered it because that was what family did.
And that was what he and Brody were now.
They were family.
Mitch had always thought of Baywatch as family, and he loved his own family that lived far away. But there was something different about Brody. The commitment they’d made to each other. It went beyond the workplace.
It even went beyond the beach.
Mitch didn’t always understand that, but he knew better than to reject it. Not after the year they’d shared together.
The best they’d had.
That wasn’t to say it was perfect, however.
When Mitch got home that night, he was greeted by a mess. Brody’s mess. Mitch wasn’t a messy person. Brody hadn’t been either, not when he first moved in. However, now that Brody had things, that meant that those things were rarely put away. This was probably a good sign that Brody was adjusting psychologically to the idea of this home having permanence for him -- something not to take lightly for a foster kid with abandonment issues. However, it also drove Mitch crazy.
Really crazy.
Stepping over Brody’s sandals, he tried not to notice the empty water bottles on the table and the way Brody’s sweatshirt was hanging haphazardly off the back of a chair in the living room. He had to brace himself as he headed into the kitchen.
Part of Brody’s transition into thinking of this as home involved him feeling comfortable enough making meals. Generally, they did eat together, at least when Brody wasn’t out with Summer. While Brody had proven adept enough in the cooking -- the meals he made were edible, healthy and usually recognizable -- he had also proven completely incapable of cleaning up after himself.
To make matters worse, his cooking methods were untried and unpredictable. He often got five pans dirty instead of one, and he had yet to master the concept of soaking dishes. Sometimes, Brody attempted to do the dishes and clean up after himself, but Mitch found those results so subpar that he basically had to do it again himself anyway.
It had only been a year, he reminded himself as Brody turned to greet him. Maybe these were skills Brody would learn yet.
“Hey!” Brody said, nearly flinging sauce at Mitch from the spatula he was waving for no apparent reason. The red liquid missed Mitch but it did splatter all over the counter. Not that you could tell. The counter was already a mess from….something. “I’m trying to make spaghetti.”
That explained why there were bits of broken noodle everywhere. It also explained the red splatters all over Mitch’s once-pristine stove top.
“But I don’t get why the noodles are just, like, way too big for the pot,” Brody explained.
He also apparently didn’t get why you used a spoon instead of a spatula to stir spaghetti sauce, but then Mitch saw the spoon on the counter. Next to a ladle. And, for good measure, another spatula.
Brody shrugged, turning back to the pot and giving it a mix. “I think the sauce looks pretty good, though. I may have added too much basil, but I don’t know, I can’t tell. I think I like basil? Do you like basil?”
The basil was still on the counter. There was a large piled spilled just shy of the pot, where the noodles were starting to boil over.
“Whoa,” Brody said, catching it but not before plenty of water splashed onto Mitch’s stove top. Another stain to burn on the burner, no doubt. “Sorry about that.”
Mitch sighed, moving to the fridge to pull out the ingredients for a salad. “It smells good,” he said, because Brody was trying, at least. Mitch would try, too. And maybe tonight would be the night that Brody paid attention when Mitch taught him how to properly load a dishwasher. Again. “And I do like basil.”
Brody beamed at him. For all the times that Mitch wanted to throttle Brody for being messy and late and incompetent, there were moments like this in which Brody seemed to thrive under positive feedback. Mitch had always worked well with kids and in an instructional setting, but he’d never experienced it like this before. With an established relationship where growth was easy to measure and when so much was reciprocal. In some ways, Mitch figured this was what having children was like.
If your children were fully grown assholes with massive abandonment issues who could swim really well.
Brody demanded a lot from Mitch, but he also gave a lot, too.
That was another thing Mitch had discovered in the last year.
“Try to break your spaghetti evenly next time,” Mitch coached, nodding to the pot of boiling water. “Just snap it in half.”
“I tried that,” Brody said. “And it went, like, everywhere.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said, washing the lettuce. “I noticed.”
Brody glanced around with a wince. “Shit,” he said. “I told myself this time I wouldn’t make as big of a mess.”
That was laughable. Brody always made a big mess. It was just how Brody operated in life.
“I’ll clean it up,” Brody said, sounding frustrated right now.
“We’ll clean it up together,” Mitch said. “But I do want you to actually show me that you know what a clean pan looks like this time.”
Brody went back to stirring his sauce. “I think you’re way too picky about that shit.”
“I think I enjoy not getting food poisoning,” Mitch countered.
“Oh, that’s not even a thing,” Brody said.
“Yeah,” Mitch said, starting to cut up cucumber. “Pretty sure it is, genius.”
“No one worried about that when I was growing up,” Brody huffed, as though he was indignant.
He wasn’t. But they liked to pretend. “Whatever, dumbass,” he said. “This is our home, so we need to make an effort to keep it clean and sanitary.”
Brody looked up, grinning.
He always did that, every time Mitch mentioned our home. Six months, a year -- Mitch was pretty sure that shit was never going to get old for Brody. “Point taken,” he said. “You’ll have to show me how to load the dishwasher again, though. And, like, what cycle to pick. There are so many cycles.”
There weren’t, but Mitch shook his head with a grin of his own. He’d show Brody tonight, and probably tomorrow night.
And if they were still trying to figure this out in another year -- well, there were worse ways to spend a year.
-o-
Brody’s spaghetti wasn’t half bad.
It still took a good hour to clean the kitchen, even with Brody’s help.
Or, by all accounts, because of it.
Most people wouldn’t get it, probably. Why Mitch wanted to take on someone into his life that seemingly offered very little tangible benefit. Brody paid minimal rent -- hardly enough to count as rent -- and he took up Mitch’s space and his time. He needed explanations for simple things, and Mitch literally had to serve as Brody’s alarm clock half the time to make sure they got anywhere on time. Mitch no longer had privacy, and a lot of his free time were now spent explaining basic life tasks to a full grown man.
But that was sort of the point about family. Family wasn’t about what you got out of it. It wasn’t some balance sheet that you had to come out on top of. Family was about getting what you gave. It was give and take. It was two people who made each other better.
So okay, the spaghetti wasn’t half bad and the kitchen was a disaster. So Mitch didn’t have time to play Call of Duty on his own anymore. Mitch still had everything he had ever wanted -- everything he hadn’t known he’d wanted.
Kicking back on the couch with Brody, watching late night TV before bed.
Shit, this was all Mitch was ever going to want.
As far as he was concerned, nothing had to change ever again.
-o-
After they cleaned up together, Mitch took another 20 minutes to clean up for real. He heard Brody getting ready for bed, and he stopped in the hallway to feed the fish before glancing in the open door to Brody’s room.
A year ago, it had been Mitch’s storage room.
Six months ago, it had been a sparsely decorated new room for Brody.
Today?
Well, it was plain to see that Brody had fully settled in.
Mitch had started off with the basics, allowing Brody a few extraneous decorations just to personalize the place. As a gift, the team had invested in photographs after the incident with Anikka Leeds, which had really made it feel like a personal space. In the following six months, however, Brody had taken interior design to heart and fully embraced the idea of home.
Whenever Brody went to the store, he seemed to pick up something for his room. Once, he picked up curtains. Then he had to go buy a curtain rod because he hadn’t realized that he needed one to hand the curtains. He purchased a new rug, and then another new rug, thus leaving the two rugs to layer over each other in the small space. He bought random things that Mitch never would have expected like candles and sports figurines.
This would have all been well and good if Brody had any sense of design.
He had none.
Absolutely none.
Everything he purchased was a different style. None of the colors went together. Eclectic was too diplomatic a term for his room. It was, however, distinctively Brody’s.
Most of the time, converting a storage area into the living space would add value to a home. Mitch was pretty sure that Brody’s poor taste in decor probably made his home less attractive to buyers. Good thing Mitch wasn’t planning on moving.
And really, what was value? Was it a price on a paper?
Or the way Brody loved his room, loved his house, loved his family, loved his life?
“Hey,” he said, trying to find his voice from the doorway.
Brody turned around; he was holding one of the gold medals. “Yeah?”
Mitch made a little face. “You making sure it’s still there?”
“Nah, dusting,” Brody said. “It looked, like, dusty.”
“You need a rag for that. Using your hand just gets fingerprints on it,” Mitch advised.
Brody looked a little more closely at it. “Huh,” he said. “Do we have rags?”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll find one for you tomorrow.”
Brody put the medal back on the shelf. Mitch had created a display place for Brody when he set up the room. Brody had come into the house with very few possessions; the only one of any real value had been those two gold medals. It had only seemed appropriate to display them. After all, Mitch didn’t want Brody to forget his past. It was still a part of him. A very important part. The past made people who they were, and the Olympics, for better or worse, would always define Brody.
“Anyway,” Mitch said. “Early day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Brody said, turning back toward him. “Do we really have to spend all day doing training? Because I was talking to Summer--”
Mitch shook his head. “It’s required,” he said. “You’ve been here a year. You’ve got to refresh your skills.”
Brody groaned a little. “Yeah, a year,” he said. “I’m doing okay, aren’t I?”
The truth was, Brody was doing more than okay. Brody was doing excellent. Shit, Brody was the best damn lifeguard on that beach. Mitch would never have predicted it a year ago, not with Brody’s laziness, selfishness and utter stupidity. But Brody had proven him wrong, a hundred times over.
And it wasn’t just about dedication, passion and loyalty. Brody had those qualities -- and they were probably the most important for any lifeguard on Baywatch.
But Brody had more.
That was the part that was so striking to Mitch.
It wasn’t just that Brody loved his job or was passionate about his job. He was just really good at it. Mitch didn’t generally compare his lifeguards, but he kept statistics. Brody had more saves than any other lifeguard on the beach -- Mitch included. Brody was always the first one in the water, and he was second only to Mitch in being the first one to a victim once they hit the water. He was stronger, faster and more thorough. He could hold his breath, he could cut through a riptide, and he could use raw strength to get any victim to safety -- again and again.
In short, if you were looking for a beach to drown on -- Brody’s was the one to do it on. Because nine times out of ten, he would save your ass, no matter how stupid you were.
Literally. Nine times out of ten.
Mitch had the statistics to prove it.
He’d never told anyone that, especially not Brody. And that wasn’t why he cared about Brody; that wasn’t why they were family.
It still meant something, however. Maybe it meant that Brody was Mitch’s true protege. Maybe it meant that Brody had found exactly his true calling at Baywatch. Maybe it meant that Brody was going to follow in Mitch’s footsteps, become lieutenant one day and man tower one in Mitch’s stead.
Not that Mitch had thought about that.
A lot.
“You’re doing fine,” Mitch said, purposefully obtuse. “And you’ll do fine tomorrow. In training. Where you belong.”
Brody huffed and flopped back on his bed. “Okay, okay,” he said. “We’re leaving at 7?”
“Try 6:30,” Mitch said as he started down the hall to his own room..
“I’ll set my alarm!” Brody called after him.
“Okay!” Mitch called back, shaking his head with a smile.
He didn’t need an alarm; he would be up at 5:30 anyway, ready for a run and breakfast. He’d make sure Brody was up and ready to go on time after he slept through the alarm like he always did.
After a year, Mitch had this whole thing figured out.
-o-
Mitch had gone through a lot of trouble to keep the party a secret, though most of those efforts were wasted on Brody. Brody, for as attentive as he was when he was in the water, was pretty much oblivious to most other things. It didn’t help that he wasn’t awake most mornings until he hit the beach, but Mitch was pretty sure he could have planned the party in his own damn living room and Brody wouldn’t have noticed.
Hell, Mitch could have left Brody on duty today and he would have watched the preparations going down and never put two and two together. This could be a reflection of Brody’s intelligence, but in this case, Mitch had to think it was more attributed to Brody’s assumption that good things still didn’t happen to him. He’d never guess that someone would go through the trouble of planning a party for him, not even after a year of being a part of Baywatch and being Mitch’s family.
That was one huge reason why the party mattered.
Sure, the party was technically for all three of the new recruits. Summer and Ronnie were equally important to the team, and Mitch in no way wanted to downplay their contributions. But, if he had to be honest, it was mostly for Brody.
Because Brody had changed so much in a year. More than any of them could imagine.
And also because it was going to be hilarious to see Brody’s face when he realized what was going on.
It actually had Mitch a little giddy, and he was regretting the fact that he’d left Stephanie and CJ in charge of setting things up while he tended to tower one. He would rather be down there, hanging streamers or whatever the hell CJ was trying to do. He would rather be with Stephanie, interrogating the caterer about their appetizers.
Shit, Mitch would even rather be with Brody, Summer and Ronnie in this half-assed training session he’d had Casey Jean orchestrate.
Of all the times to be stuck on the beach.
The irony wasn’t lost on Mitch.
He loved the beach. He did. He just, well -- maybe he’d finally come to reckon with the fact that he loved Baywatch more.
A little more.
Marginally more.
Whatever.
Today, it was a lot more and that was just going to be the way it was.
Today and only today, he relented, tearing his eyes away from the party prep. He had a clear view of the set up from tower one. He had an equally clear view of HQ, where he found himself looking for Brody and the others even though he knew there was no chance of them being outside. This was the one drawback to family: Mitch trusted them all to do their tasks so much that he’d left himself with nothing to do.
Nothing.
Well, except watch the beach. Since he was technically on duty. And he was technically a lifeguard. The senior lifeguard. Entrusted with the safekeeping of every person on this stretch of beach.
Thus resolved, Mitch studied the beach again, making note of the kids playing in the water, the surfers out from shore. He noted a pair of suspicious people wandering up near the umbrellas but deemed them just to be awkward teenagers trying to figure out if they liked each other. He watched as a little girl tried to put on sunscreen by putting it in her mouth. Mitch was about to intervene when her mother stopped her.
A married couple was kissing and might need to be broken up. A ten year old was wading out a little farther than Mitch was comfortable.
And CJ was hanging balloons now. How was she anchoring them?
Mitch put down his binoculars. Damn it. This party wasn’t even for him. So why was he so stupid and excited about it? It was just a party. A party was nothing.
Except it was something.
Mitch had been planning this party for close to two weeks. That was actually not a lot of time from the inception to the execution, and it was only by his immense popularity and well established connections in the bay that he was able to align everything so perfectly on such a short timeline. The caterer had grumbled but agreed that for Mitch Buchanan, two weeks was doable. The DJ had laughed, saying that for most people, he needed a month easy, but Mitch was an exception.
In short, only Mitch could throw a party in two weeks.
Except, to Mitch, this party wasn’t one with a two-week lead. In all honesty, this was a party that was a year in the making. It was a celebration he’d been enjoying ever since Brody led the motley crew in his absence and started the final push to save the bay. Sure, Mitch had had a nice little talk when he welcomed the three new recruits to the team full time, but this party was going to be a full commemoration.
This was the way to cement the team, to establish that yes, they were Baywatch.
That would never changed.
Not for anything.
Resolved, he picked up his binoculars again, directing his gaze away from the party prep and back to his stretch of beach. There was comfort and familiarity in the routine, after all. This had been a year in the making.
As he got back to work, he resolved that he might as well enjoy it.
-o-
Like most things Mitch put his mind to, the party was a success. The decorations were perfect, the food was delectable, and the music was excellent. The whole Baywatch crew was on hand, and turnout f on the local businesses and frequent beach goers was even stronger than Mitch might have anticipated. It was a public beach, after all, and Mitch knew that the success of his lifeguards was not merely for inside appreciation. He had no problems sharing his team with the bay.
Best of all, however, was the fact that Mitch pulled off the surprise. Summer handled it best, smiling broadly and hugging everyone when she realized. Ronnie looked like he shit himself, and CJ had to keep him grounded enough to stay.
Brody, for his part, stood dumbfounded for several seconds. He has clapped, patting Ronnie on the back and giving Summer a peck on the cheek. But when people started to congratulate him, he looked confused. Then, he stared at the sign.
Congratulations Summer, Ronnie and Brody!
Mitch could actually see his eyes rereading the sign. Reading it. again. Then one more time before he became transfixed with his own name.
This was a guy who had won two gold medals and still held the world record in the 200. He’d been interviewed on national TV and been the topic of countless blog post, news articles, and memes. And, in all that, no one had ever thrown him a surprise party.
In fact, Mitch wouldn’t be surprised if this were his first party ever.
That was heartbreaking in some ways, to watch him struggle to understand.
But when he did get it, when he started to smile as his face lit up.
That was about the best thing ever.
For Brody.
And for Mitch.
It didn’t matter how much it cost, how inconvenient it was, if it was a bad precedent to set. Mitch had no regrets about this party.
Baywatch lifeguards hugged Brody. Local business owners shook his hand. Beach goers took selfies with him. Brody beamed, his confidence visibly burgeoning with each interaction.
Mitch would never have a single regret about any of this.
-o-
After allowing everyone to eat a little bit, Mitch found himself anxious. Not that he wanted the party to be over -- no, he fully intended to let this one go into the night now that everyone was off duty -- but he wanted to make sure that everyone knew why they were here.
Why Mitch had brought them all here.
That meant the crowd, the lifeguards, and Baywatch’s three newest recruits all at the same time. The DJ gave Mitch a microphone, but it wasn’t hard to call everyone to attention. Mitch had that kind of power; people listened to him. He liked to think it was because he was a good person who was committed to doing what was right.
But it probably didn’t hurt that he was huge.
All the same, he had a glass to toast with, the attention of the crowd, and three very important sentiments he wanted to share.
“We’ve had a lot of people come and go at Baywatch over the years, a lot of really good people,” he began. “They’ve all been people worthy of your praise and celebration, just like every current staff member.”
He nodded, looking purposefully at his current staff, eyes lingering on CJ and Stephanie in particular.
“So you may wonder, then,” Mitch continued, addressing the full crowd again. “What is it that makes this recruiting class so special. Why does this class of lifeguards deserve its own celebration?”
The crowd was watching, listening curiously.
Mitch smiled. “Honestly, they all deserve it, they always have,” he said. “But usually I like to think we’re all just doing our jobs. Usually, I don’t like to make a big deal out of that. Protecting the bay, that’s the service we are entrusted with. Each and every lifeguard here knows that.”
The crowd, lifeguards and community members alike, nodded solemnly.
“But what not everyone fully realizes is that a year ago, we nearly lost everything. Baywatch nearly fell apart, and the bay was nearly bought out. Everything we valued, every one of us here on this beach, was nearly lost. And I’m not going to pretend like a lot of people didn’t have a part in saving it, because they did. But I do know that the new recruiting class proved their mettle under the most trying times. They face dangers that went far beyond their duties as lifeguards. Even when I was out of the fight, they made sure it kept going. The three of them, working together, saved their own jobs, saved Baywatch, saved the bay. And they saved me.”
This time, his eyes rested on Summer and Ronnie, who were smiling at him. Behind them, Brody had his head ducked.
All the more reason to continue.
“First, Ronnie. When you first look at Ronnie, most people don’t get it. But the instant you talk to Ronnie, then it becomes pretty clear. Ronnie has always had the passion that defines a Baywatch lifeguard. His love of the job surpasses anyone else standing on this beach,” Mitch said. Ronnie’s cheeks were red, but he was beaming. “That passion got him this job, and it keeps him as one of the most important people on this beach, day in and day out.”
The crowd murmured in agreement, several people patting Ronnie on the arm.
“Then, of course, we have Summer Quinn. Summer is by the book, honestly. She works hard, she studies hard, and she’s the complete package. Her dedication to the job -- to doing what is right -- makes her an instant leader and an invaluable member of the Baywatch team.” Summer was trying to look modest, but her smile was impossible to hide. Her blue eyes were bright as she met Mitch’s gaze. “That dedication has taken Summer above and beyond the call of duty, and she never complains. Because, to her, that’s just what the job is.”
There was an even louder rumble of approval this time. Stephanie gave her shoulder a squeeze.
Mitch cleared his throat, persisting on. “That leaves us with one more member of last year’s recruiting class,” he said, and his eyes cut through the crowd where Brody was still willfully not looking at anything. “Matt Brody.”
At the sound of his name, Brody flinched. The rest of the crowd instinctively parted, and both Ronnie and Summer turned back to look at Brody. Suddenly finding himself in the center of attention, Brody glanced up anxiously and tried to smile. The effect was awkward.
Which just made Mitch grin. “A year ago, most people knew Matt Brody as an Olympic gold medalist. And a year ago, he was the absolute last person I wanted to put on my team. In fact, it wasn’t even my choice. I was told that I had to hire him, and I hated every minute of it.”
Brody was looking down again, more steadfastly than before.
“And I made his life hell,” Mitch said. “I worked him harder, I held him to impossible standards, and I had no problems humiliating him. Because I knew he had a lot to learn, a lot to change, if he was going to be a part of this Baywatch team.”
The crowd was reacting, but Mitch wasn’t paying much attention to them anymore. His attention was zeroing in with increasing focus on Brody.
“But then, he surprised me,” Mitch said. “Brody made a choice to be a part of this team, and he committed to that choice in a way I didn’t expect. I’m not going to say that he was perfect, because he wasn’t, but he was ready to learn. He was ready to give everything he had. Against all odds, he became exactly the leader Baywatch needed. In fact, when I was temporarily relieved of my post last year, it was Brody who stepped. It was Brody who filled the gap. It was Brody who overcame his own limitations and the assumptions of his team to bring them together and save the bay. It was Brody.”
He could hear the crowd distantly, a small rumble of applause. But Mitch didn’t fixate on that, not as Brody slowly lifted his gaze and nervously looked back at Mitch for the first time.
“That was a year ago,” Mitch said. “And today, we all know who Matt Brody is. Matt Brody may have been an Olympian. He may have been a world record holder. But today, we all know that Matt Brody is a lifeguard.”
Brody’s face was colorless, and he blinked a few times.
“Matt Brody is the guy you want on the beach, watching out for you,” Mitch continued. “He’s the one you want diving in to save you if you ever get into trouble. That’s who Matt Brody is. He’s Baywatch.”
This time, there was a small eruption of cheers, and Mitch could see Brody visibly trembling, even as Summer slid up next to him, as if to hold him up instinctively.
Mitch raised his glass. “That’s why we’re here to celebrate last year’s recruiting class at Baywatch,” he announced, looking back out at the crowd again. “For their passion, for their dedication, for the way the exemplify everything Baywatch is all about. Here’s to one year -- and many more.”
There was a cry of agreement as everyone raised their glasses and drank with him. Over the raucous, Mitch watched as Brody took a tentative sip, eyes diverting downward, even as Summer hugged him and Ronnie clapped him on the back and CJ and Stephanie rounded on them with the rest of the crew.
The perfect toast to a perfect team.
Capping off a perfect year.
-o-
After the toast, the party really got started. That meant dancing and music and drinks and small talk.
In moderation, of course.
Mitch had all appropriate permits in place for the gathering, but these were lifeguards. They weren’t known for being unruly. If they were, they wouldn’t be a part of Mitch’s team.
Still, it was a good party. People were having fun, and Mitch took some pleasure in that as he made the rounds toward the three people of honor.
He found Ronnie first.
Ronnie was still trying to achieve a Baywatch body, but his attempts at dieting and exercise had yielded minimal results. Still, he was persistent, which was why he had barely eaten most of the food that CJ had packed onto a plate for him. She said she liked him chunky. He said he wanted to stop jiggling.
Mitch just never wanted to hear these conversations at all.
“Hey,” he said, shaking Ronnie’s hand while Ronnie fumbled not to drop his plate. “The man of the hour.”
Ronnie giggled. Yes, giggled. Ronnie did stuff like that. “I can’t believe it’s really been a year!”
“Time flies, my man,” Mitch said. “And I hope you’ve enjoyed being here as much as we’ve enjoyed having you.”
Ronnie went instantly serious, as he always did when talking about being a Baywatch lifeguard. “It’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said, ever earnest. “Shit, Mitch. The best. I still feel like the last year has been some kind of dream and that I’m going to wake up and have to go back to being some stupid tech guy.”
“Not going to happen,” Mitch assured him. “Putting you on the squad is something I will never regret.”
People always responded well to Mitch. He had a natural ability to bolster people. He was damn good at pep talks.
But no one responded quite like Ronnie.
Shit, giving Ronnie compliments was personally gratifying. His face just lit up.
“Thanks, Mitch,” he said, and he stood taller than before. “Thanks.”
Mitch patted him on the back. “No, man,” he said, gesturing at Ronnie as he made his way through the crowd again. “Thank you.”
-o-
After Ronnie, Summer found him.
She was like that. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. It wasn’t that Summer was less passionate than Ronnie, it was just that she approached it so much more logically. Ronnie had never thought he had a chance; Summer had always believed she did. Her belief was a personal dedication, and it made her capable, poised and teachable.
He liked Summer.
He liked her a lot.
“Mitch, I just -- I wanted to say thank you,” she said, making a general gesture to the festivities. “I mean, I don’t think I deserve or anything, but thank you.”
“You do deserve it,” he said. “Your work has been exemplary last year, and I know how much you did for the Leeds investigation when you were still in training.”
“I was just following your lead, honestly,” she said. “You are the best example.”
Mitch bobbed his head politely. “Don’t sell yourself short. A lot of people can learn the rules and regulations for being a lifeguard, but you knew from the beginning how to put the theory into practice. At the rate you’re going, I think you’ll be a lieutenant sooner rather than later.”
Mitch was always good at knowing the right thing to say at the right time. Better still, he knew how to find the right truths for the moment.
Summer all but blossomed at the compliment. “I’ll do my best not to let you down,” she vowed.
“I know you will,” he said, nodding at her as he started again through the crowd. “Hey, have you seen Brody, by the way?”
“Uh, yeah,” she said, pointing off in the other direction, closer toward the water. “I left him eating something over there.”
“Great, thanks,” Mitch said, weaving his way through the crowd once more.
-o-
Ronnie was to find; Summer found him.
Brody, naturally, tended to do things his own way.
The difficult way.
Ultimately, the Brody way.
Though Brody was tucked away at the edge of the party, standing along the line of the sand closest to the water, he still seemed to be fending off well wishers. Mitch watched as community members and other lifeguards stopped by to shake Brody’s hand before Brody politely saw them on their way. As Mitch approached, Chen was giving Brody a heart handshake and a thank you, and Mitch heard the business owner offer a free double chocolate shake the next time Brody stopped by.
Brody thanked him with a chuckle that Mitch recognized well enough. As Chen walked away, there was no way Brody would be going back to the store now -- for a free shake or anything else.
They’d come a long way in a year, but Mitch could tell there was still work to be done with Brody. Because Brody had become a good lifeguard. He’d become an active team member. And he’d even become Mitch’s best friend -- his brother, by all accounts.
And Brody flourished in all of those roles.
But even after all that, Brody still found it damn near impossible to think he deserved a place in the wider community. Mitch knew that part of that came from Brody’s struggle with the concept of family, his own innate abandonment issues. That much had been made clear to Mitch six months ago, when a play for cash from Brody’s birth mom had exposed Brody’s deepest insecurities.
Mitch suspected it was more than that.
He suspected it was why Brody still looked wistfully at his two gold medals each night.
Because while Brody was ready to embrace a new version of himself, a new life -- he didn’t believe that anyone else was really ready to see him that way outside of Mitch and a select other few. Because Brody, no matter what else he’d accomplished, was still the jackass who’d vomited in the pool at the Olympics and gotten himself arrested on the way home.
Those were mistakes Brody had made himself, no doubt.
And he was the one who was going to have the hardest time letting them go.
Waiting until Chen was gone, Mitch came closer and smiled. “This is a party, Brody,” he said. “It’s supposed to be fun.”
Brody laughed, almost out of relief. “It is,” he said, and when he realized how unconvincing he sounded, he added. “It really is. You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”
Mitch allowed himself a snort. They could be emotionally vulnerable, the two of them. All they’d been through together, it was sort of necessary. Still, they responded to each other best through banter.
“Eh, Summer and Ronnie deserved it,” he said. “Just had to bring you along for the ride.”
It wasn’t true, at all. And Brody knew it. He smiled. “If anything, I owe you a party,” he said. “I mean, you’ve put up with me for a year?”
“That’s only true at home, where you still don’t know how to clean up after yourself,” Mitch said.
Brody opened his mouth in protest.
But Mitch continued, more sincere now. “But here? On duty? Come on, buddy. You know you’re good at this job.”
Brody shrugged a little, as if to concede the point. “I’ve a lot of help,” he said. “I mean, you are always on me to make sure I do the right thing. Summer studied with me, like, all the time.”
These things were true, but Brody was forgetting the important thing. Mitch pinned him with a quizzical look. “You do realize that Summer hasn’t studied with you in months,” he said. “And when was the last time I had to coach you on anything besides how to load a dishwasher?”
That question left Brody momentarily speechless. Altogether, that wasn’t a bad state for Brody to be in, but this wasn’t about putting Brody in his place. Or, maybe it was. It was just that Brody’s place was better than Brody thought it was.
“This party was for you, even more than the others,” he said, because he had no qualms admitting it. Summer and Ronnie would have no problem hearing it. The only person who would struggle with it was standing right in front of him. At Brody’s blank look, Mitch continued. “This past year, I’ve watched you transform yourself. I mean, completely. You aren’t the same guy who arrived at the beach.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment,” Brody said with a self deprecating chuckle.
“It is, jackass,” Mitch said, and he nudged him. “You know it is.”
Brody looked up, quiet and reserved. He glanced out at the water. “I know.”
“Anyway, buck up,” Mitch said, a bit more cavalier again. “This is your party. You ought to look like you enjoy it a little bit.”
With a chagrined nod, Brody followed Mitch’s lead. “Okay, okay,” he said. “It is a pretty good party.”
“You better believe it,” Mitch said, more resounding now. “I only work with the best.”
If that had a double meaning -- well, Mitch would let Brody figure out whether it was intentional or not.
-o-
In reality, Mitch didn’t actually like parties. Most people didn’t realize that about him, although he knew that almost no one had seen him at a party by choice. Still, it wasn’t like he went around talking bad about parties. He just had never been one to seek them out. He didn’t particularly care for the loud music and the dim lights, and he didn’t mind dancing and drinking, but the amount of alcohol consumed by most people at a party didn’t make the dancing anything Mitch enjoyed.
So the fact that he himself planned a huge party on the beach?
Well, it was more significant than anyone realized.
That said, it was barely twilight when Mitch was about ready to pack it in. The true party scene was starting to pick up steam on the boardwalk behind them, and casual beach goers were starting to go home for the night. Families were eating ice cream out on the pier, and the food was starting to run a little on the thin side.
CJ and Stephanie, as his cohorts in planning, didn’t need to be told. Stephanie made sure everyone was paid, and CJ started gathering up the supplies. The rest of the team began pitching in -- that was just the way they worked -- and Summer and Ronnie were giving more hugs to everyone who had come to celebrate.
But where was Brody?
In all of this, he’d touched base with Brody occasionally. After chatting with him after the toasts, Brody had dutifully talked to as many people as he could. Mitch noticed his efforts to approach people, to thank them for coming and to express his gratitude for being a part of Baywatch. Yet, despite these efforts, Brody seemed to always manage to duck away before the conversation got more personal than that.
Moreover, wherever there was a crowd of raucous laughter, Brody was noticeably absent. He spent too much time at the food table, but every time Mitch rounded on him to get his ass back to mingling, the kid somehow disappeared.
Now, as the crowd was starting to thin out, Brody was critically a no-show.
One might think he had no interest in cleaning up.
Which Brody wasn’t good at cleaning up and he had no natural inclination toward it, but he generally did like to do things when it seemed like other people needed help. But he wasn’t taking down the banners or packing up balloons or folding tables.
No, there Brody was, back on the edge of the party, overlooking the water.
Sighing, Mitch started over toward him, to corral him back into being a social person again. He only got two steps, however, when Brody started to run.
He knew Brody was uncomfortable, but to run away?
That was weird.
Mitch followed his trajectory, and realized that Brody wasn’t running away from the party.
No, he was running toward a different commotions.
Mitch’s gaze veered ahead, toward the pier where someone was screaming and shouting and pointing to the water. In the water, Mitch realized only a fraction of a second later, was an overturned jetski. A figure was flailing in the water.
Shit, Mitch thought.
It was a victim.
Well, it was a good thing this was a party of lifeguards.
Mitch started running. He’d started no more than a few seconds after Brody, but the smaller man already had a considerable lead. Mitch’s legs were longer, but his sheer bulk worked against him. As fast as he was, Brody could still outpace him in a sprint.
If anyone asked later, Mitch could easily blame the head start. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been off duty and training to manage a party. It was Brody’s fault for being antisocial and self deprecating.
Someone might live tonight because Brody had serious attachment issues.
The reason notwithstanding, Mitch narrowed his focus on the goal.
Someone would live tonight.
Mitch was going to make sure of that.
-o-
Mitch had the determination, speed and skill.
So did Brody, however.
Moreover, Brody had seen it first, he was closer to the water, and he was faster.
All things considered, Brody was going to get the save tonight.
This wasn’t about ego -- not in the least. Mitch dove into the surf after Brody because it was getting dim outside, visibility was reduced, and the area near the pier was particularly dangerous for its riptides and obstacles in the water. There was no shame in playing backup -- not for him, not for Brody.
He was surprised, then, when Brody pulled the flailing man toward him and promptly turned toward Mitch. Mitch had closed the gap, and Brody was almost swimming back toward him, dragging the man with him. “Here, get him back!” Brody yelled at him over the sound of the waves.
Mitch took the victim, but gave Brody a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“There’s another victim!” Brody said.
“What?”
“I saw it happen!” Brody told him. “There were two people on the jetski!”
“But in these conditions, you’ll never see under the water--”
“I have to try, don’t I?” Brody asked, like it was obvious.
On one level, yes, it was obvious. It was exactly what Mitch would say. It was exactly what he was do.
But treading water, the guy still spluttering in Mitch’s arm, it didn’t seem so obvious. Because if Brody went back, if Brody went under -- in these conditions -- there was a chance he wasn’t coming back up. These water were treacherous enough in this kind of tide, and Brody was working against strong waves where rocks and cement footings were in place. One back wave, and Brody wouldn’t even be able to see it when he hit something. He could be knocked out and never come back up.
It was a job that required expert swimming and sound judgment. It was a job Mitch would only trust to himself.
But Brody wasn’t giving him a choice.
“Go, get backup!” Brody yelled, kicking off toward the jetski before Mitch could stop him. “Get him safe!”
Mitch watched Brody go, cutting through the waves.
He watched Brody go.
Not sure if he was proud or disappointed that Brody never looked back.
-o-
The thing was, Brody didn’t need to look back. Because he knew exactly what he was doing. Mitch watched, pulling slightly away from the pier just for safety reasons, as Brody approximated a course to the jetski, then compensated astutely for the motion of the waves and the direction of the riptide. Then, he took a deep breath, still judging his location in regards to the rocks, the pier and the last known location of the victim, and dove in.
Distantly, Mitch could hear the commotion growing at the beach. Somewhere, there were sirens, which meant that help was appropriately in place. He spared a glance at the victim. The man -- mid 20s, probably a little drunk, but breathing -- was fine, quickly recovering his wits, but he had sense enough not to fight Mitch.
That was good. Mitch wanted the guy to be okay.
He also didn’t want to leave the scene.
Not until he was sure that Brody was leaving with him.
He kept his position, having to tread against the current as it tried to pull him toward the pier and closer to the rocks. He held back a curse, rotating slightly to both put himself in the closer position to the danger and to give himself a better vantage point of the jetski and the water where Brody had dived.
He wasn’t being anxious. He wasn’t worrying.
This was professional diligence.
He couldn’t hide the fact that he let out the breath he was holding when Brody surfaced again. It was short lived, however. Brody was alone.
Shit, the victim was still underwater.
With a deep gulping breath, Brody was, too.
“Is he going Josh?” the guy asked, finally starting to tread a little water on his own. “He’s got to find Josh!”
Mitch was usually good with comfort in the heat of crisis. He was usually very adept at calming people down, even when peril was still present.
But Mitch had no words of comfort this time.
Not when his own heart was pounding rapidly. Not when Brody was still underwater while the light was fading and the tide picked up.
“Come on,” Mitch hissed. “Come on, Brody!”
Feeling himself begin to panic -- just slightly -- he turned toward the shore. He could get this guy to safety and get back out to the water to help. Maybe if he turned, Stephanie or CJ or Summer or Ronnie could help. Maybe he needed to go down and drag Brody back up with his own two hands.
Not for the first time.
Shit.
“Brody!”
Then, right before he started to move, Brody broke the surface again.
This time, dragging another man with him.
“Josh?!” Mitch’s victim asked. “Josh!”
Josh was unresponsive, though, and Brody was already starting the arduous haul back to the shore. Within seconds, his powerful strides had passed Mitch, and Mitch remembered only to move in Brody’s wake. He followed Brody back, supporting his victim while he struggled to get his feet and watching as Brody hoisted the man up, jogging up the shore to the waiting opening in the sand.
The rest of the team was there, helping lower Josh to the ground. And Brody fell away while the paramedics stepped in, ready to render aid. On solid ground, Mitch’s victim took off, calling Josh’s name, and Mitch watched only half hearted as the resuscitation continued.
The crowd gathered, watching with bated breath. Mitch’s gaze settled on Brody, however. Winded, the younger man was heaving for air, hands on his knees as he tried to recover from the exertion. It didn’t look like a long swim, but Mitch knew those waters. He knew that Brody had made that swim faster than anyone else could, carrying a full grown man after being underwater for an extended period of time.
To call it impressive would be an understatement.
To call it a rescue that few could pull off -- would be accurate.
The thing was Mitch wasn’t even surprised.
There was a cheer from the crowd as the victim on the beach took a breath. Brody straightened up in time to see the man spit up water as the paramedics rolled him to the side and started to assess him. Everyone clapped in relief as Brody checked in with the victims, both of them, making sure they were okay before melting away from the crowd.
He didn’t stay for a thank-you.
He didn’t stay for and well regards or praise.
As he passed Mitch, he shrugged sheepishly. “Kind of ruined the party,” he said. “Sorry.”
Mitch glanced back at the abandoned tent, still half set up from the gathering. He looked at the the two victims being helped into the back of an ambulance while the crowd continued to disperse.
It wasn’t what Mitch had planned.
He looked at Brody, finding himself smiling.
Somehow it was still exactly what he needed.
What everyone needed.