As promised to my Hot as Fire readers, the first chapter of the MarcoAce version of that story. The stories involve some of the same characters, but you don't have to read HaF in order to understand this one, or the other way around. There will be some overlap in the story, but from a different point of view.

(This chapter starts about a year before the first chapter op HaF)

Well, please enjoy :3

Warnings (for entire fic): explicit sexual content, violence, blood, mentions of alcohol abuse

Reborn in Fire

Chapter 1

When he woke up, he felt slightly surprised. He was alive, somehow. It wasn't a shocking experience, it happened pretty often that he managed to get out of the most desperate situations alive. He didn't know how, but he did it. He should have been dead long ago, but the laws of physics didn't seem to apply to him. Not all of them, at least.

Thatch put down the newspaper when he noticed he was awake. "You scared the hell out of everyone again," he commented dryly.

"You should know me better by now." With much difficulty Marco hoisted himself in a sitting position. He was in the hospital again, judging by the white walls and the many machines.

"I didn't say you scared me."

The blonde shook his head. "So, how bad was it this time?"

"The burning building collapsed while you were still inside. A heavy beam landed on your lower back, but somehow you managed to get out, don't ask me how." Thatch grinned. "They don't call you 'the Phoenix' for nothing."

Marco just grunted. He was a fireman and had often saved people out of the fire when the situation had deemed hopeless. His fellow firemen had christened him 'the Phoenix', as every time he came back out of the fire alive. Personally, he didn't care for the nickname. He didn't save all those people for the glory or to be a hero. He had a debt to repay. That he couldn't seem to die in the fire was a welcome bonus.

A man in a white coat entered the room. "You're awake." He sounded surprised.

"Yes."

Apparently everyone had expected he would remain in a coma, according to the doctor. "It's already a miracle you survived. Most people who come out of a situation like yours alive, remain in a comatose state for the rest of their lives."

Thatch exchanged a look with Marco and winked knowingly at him.

"You've been very lucky," the doctor continued. "There is also bad news, however. The chance that you will ever walk again is next to nothing."

Thatch jumped up. "That's impossible! Don't you know who he is? Marco the Phoenix! He comes out in one piece in the most hopeless situations!"

But the doctor shook his head. "He can count himself lucky to be alive. But I'm afraid he will have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair."

A few weeks later, however, the doctor retracted his statement. Marco have been able to move his legs and feel sensations with them. The whole world of medicine was baffled. With intense physiotherapy the blonde slowly learned how to walk again. At first it hurt like hell, but with time the pain faded. He was able to walk with crutches.

When he told Thatch, his brother had laughed. "Typically Marco. You should have been dead, but you come out of a burning building alive. You should be in a coma, so you wake up. You shouldn't be able to walk, so you grab your crutches. I wouldn't be surprised if you one day manage to become young again."

Marco snorted. He wasn't that old, was he?

A few days later he got an unexpected visitor. The assistant brigade manager of his fire brigade stopped by. After Marco's last accident he had visited him in the hospital once, saying to his regret the blonde couldn't be a full-fledged fireman if he couldn't walk. It had devastated Marco, even though he had already known. His debt wasn't repaid yet. If he couldn't be a fireman, how would he fulfil his obligation to that young boy?

He had been depressed ever since he heard the news. But when there was a chance he might be able to walk again, he got his hopes up. But he didn't want to contact the fire brigade before he was able to walk without crutches again. So why was the assistant brigade manager here?

"I heard the Phoenix had risen again," the man said with a smile, when Marco had opened the door.

"Hardly. I still can't walk without these." The blonde gestured towards his crutches.

The assistant brigade managers shook his head. "You shouldn't be alive, let alone hobbling around."

Without responding Marco made his way to the kitchen, brushing aside the assistant brigade manager's offers to help. Sighing, the blonde put on the kettle for tea. He was really growing tired of people telling him he was lucky to be alive.

Of course he was happy still lived, but the only thing he could think about was how he had let that boy down, ten years ago. In all these years the guilt hadn't gone away and the only way he believed it would, was by continuing to rescue people, like he had done before.

With the teapot in one hand, he could only use one crutch. Carefully he walked back to the living room. The assistant brigade manager asked again if he could help, but Marco declined. After he had gone back to the kitchen for mugs, he sunk into a chair and looked at his guest expectantly.

The assistant brigade manager cleared his throat. "I know how hard it was for you to hear you couldn't be a fireman anymore. And I heard your walking is improving slowly. But I doubt you can go back to your old ways anytime soon, rushing in burning buildings, giving everyone a heart attack in worry and rise out of the fire. But maybe I have a solution."

The next couple of months were pretty busy for Marco. The solution the assistant brigade manager had made wasn't perfect, but it was an acceptable one. The former fireman had realised that perhaps he could learn how to walk again, but the healing process would be long and painful. Being a fireman in the meantime was very unrealistic and he refused to settle for doing chores at the fire station. And there the solution of the assistant brigade manager came in.

In a town a few miles over called Sabaody, the fire investigator of the fire station there would retire in a few months. Marco could be re-educated to be an arson inspector. That way he could still make a contribution to the fire station, even if he had to walk with crutches. He would have to move though, Sabaody was too remote to travel daily, and because of his condition he wasn't allowed to drive himself, so he had to take the bus.

He didn't mind to moving much. One of his brothers lived in Sabaody, and he had even found a house in the same street. The advantage of having many brothers was that he didn't have to hire movers. His house was furnished in no time.

When his house was done, his brothers persuaded him to throw a house warming party. He ended up inviting the whole street, because they would disturb them anyway; his brothers knew how to throw a party. Hiring movers had probably been cheaper.

He studied for his fire investigation exam. His brother Izo came by every once in a while to test him. Marco actually enjoyed the education. By the time the old arson inspector retired, the blonde had passed the exam and was now a certified fire investigator. His former fire station had made all the arrangements, he could start working right away. By now, he could walk with walk with only one crutch.

The bus stopped only a few yards away from the Sabaody fire station. The station manager was already waiting outside. He greeted Marco kindly and shook his hand. "Glad you could make it. I understood that your old fire station was sorry to see you go, but fortunately for us, we had a vacancy. It's an honour to have the famous Phoenix working with us."

"Please, I'm not a fireman anymore. Therefore the Phoenix is no more. I would appreciate it if I could keep my past in the past," Marco answered.

The station manager seemed to be a bit disappointed, but reconciled with his wishes. "The Phoenix is a legend here, but I won't tell you're him. We do have our own little phoenix here, perhaps he's inspired by you. A young – and reckless – fireman who has saved a bunch of children from the fire already. But you'll meet him eventually. Come, I will show you to your office."

Marco followed him inside. They entered a large hall, where some fire trucks stood parked. A few volunteers were washing them and looked up curiously as the two men passed. The station manager led the way to the back of the hall. A metal spiral staircase led to a small platform. The station manager noticed him looking and said apologetic: "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your office is upstairs and we don't have an elevator. You can manage that?"

One thing he'd learned from growing up with many brothers, was never to show your weaknesses. So he nodded.

Slowly he followed the manager up the stairs, clenching around the handrail and leaning on his crutch. God, he had to do this every day.

His office turned out to be a small room with a desk, computer and a file cabinet. He probably would have become claustrophobic, had not the window taken up almost the entire back wall. He overlooked the outside training area.

Three firemen were working out at the moment. Two brown haired men were trying their climbing skills at a rope, while a black haired man was doing pull ups shirtless. Marco couldn't see his face, but his eyes lingered on the man's muscular body.

He knew he liked men for a long time, but he didn't care for labels. The persons who he cared about knew about his sexual preference. Though he wasn't ashamed about it, he didn't proclaim it from the rooftops either. He had been in relationships with men, but he didn't mind being alone.

This however was new. Usually he wasn't this shallow, staring and drooling all over someone. He hadn't even seen his face, dammit!

"These are some of my best guys," the station manager commented, not having noticed Marco's odd behaviour. "Johnson, Portgas and Smith. True heroes, those boys. Portgas is the person I was talking about just now, by the way."

For some reason he knew that the man with the sexy back and ass had to have a more special last name then Johnson or Smith. "Who was he again?" he asked the manager casually.

The other man pointed to the black haired man. As if he knew, the young man called Portgas turned around. Marco noticed a tattoo on the man's arm. It showed an A, a crossed out S, a C and an E. Ace?

His eyes passed from the man's muscular arm to his equally muscular chest, shining with sweat. His mouth went dry when he saw the image of him licking it off in his mind's eye. He forbade himself to let his look wander further down and instead focussed on the man's face. And he froze.

Someone hated him. The whole universe probably. It wasn't enough he almost died or that he had lost the job he loved. The same job with which he had tried so hard to make up for what he did. But no. He had to be punished more severely.

The man in front of him was no other than the boy he met ten years ago. Only now grown up. And gorgeous. He tried to convince himself the man just looked alike, but his freckled face was unmistakably the same. His black hair had grown longer and this time, instead of crying he was grinning.

Why was he working here?

When he turned around, Ace noticed two shadows behind the window. It was the window of the office formally occupied by the arson inspector, before he had retired. He squinted, but couldn't make out more then silhouettes.

Now that he thought about it, hadn't he heard something about a new fire investigator? He was new, but supposedly very good at the job. Ace didn't really care. He did wonder why a fairly young man – for he had heard the new guy was in his thirties – would want to become a arson inspector, when he could be a fireman. He probably was a very boring guy.

The station manager looked at his watch. "We better get going. You can enjoy the view at any time."

Marco gulped, but nothing showed the man had noticed his special interest in fireman Portgas.

"I've asked everyone to gather at half past ten, so I can introduce you properly," the manager continued.

The blonde jerked his head up. "I don't think that's necessary," he started but the other man waved his objections away.

"Nonsense, we always welcome a new member of the family. Don't worry, they don't know about your past, though I still don't understand why you want to keep it a secret. The boys will probably accept you more swiftly if they know you were one of them."

Marco kept silent, but followed the station manager to the landing. "I probably should have done things the other way around," the latter said scratching the back of his head, while eyeing the blonde's crutch.

Marco sighed deeply and started descending the stairs, trying to ignore the eyes staring at him. He hated to look helpless, so he made his way down as fast as he could. He probably would regret it in the morning.

The station manager was either feared or very well liked – Marco suspected the latter – because a crowd had gathered in the hall. They didn't seem very interested in him though, they probably only had come because they were asked to. Marco didn't really care, after all he wouldn't work with them very often. He did feel a little overdressed though, he was the only one wearing a suit.

"Boys," the station manager started – even though there were female fire fighters as well, "as you all know Ralph has retired. So please welcome our new arson inspector, Marco Fenwick!"

An uninterested applause sounded. The blonde didn't listen. His eyes scanned the crowd for the young fireman.

Ace worked his way trough the front of the mob. Curiously he looked at the new arson inspector. He was kind of handsome. His eyes were a bit droopy like he didn't have enough sleep and an odd hairdo, reminding him somewhat of a pineapple. But who knew what kind of nice body that suit was hiding?

Only then he noticed the crutch the man was leaning on. That explained some things. Perhaps he wasn't a coward, who became an arson inspector because he was too scared to be a fireman, but because he couldn't be one. It was a turnoff anyhow, as Ace liked the people he hooked up with to be in good shape. And even being blonde and having a nice ass – he just assumed, but would find out later – wouldn't make up for that.

The worst about not being able to walk without crutches was that he couldn't practice aikido [1] on the level he was used to. In the town he previously lived in, he had been training on an advanced level and even trained a kids' class. Now he was in a beginners group.

When he got home that night, he wasn't tired from the training. He had helped a lot of the new students with adjusting their posture and holding the right grip, but he had hardly worked up a sweat. Still he decided to take a shower. He made his way up the stairs and with a lot of effort he managed to take off his clothes. While undressing he let the impressions of his first day as arson inspector sink in.

Ace had been there – he had started calling him that in his head, he really should find out if that even was his name. The little boy he had met ten years ago had grown up into a fine young man. He didn't seem to have recognised Marco, he had been just a boy back then and the blonde had been wearing protective gear. So that was a bit of a relief, but what if the freckled man remembered him later on?

Marco had tried to convince himself that the heavy pounding of his heart was caused by the shock of recognising the man from his past, from what he had done. But he knew better. He was starting to really like the young man.

Warm water splashed down on him, while he recalled the images of Ace working out shirtless. That boyish grin when he turned around…

He could already feel his body responding. Maybe his feelings for the fireman weren't as strong as he feared. Maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. He closed his eyes and slowly he reached down.

That morning he had forbidden himself to look lower than the freckled man's torso, but now he gave his thoughts free rein. In his mind Ace slowly and teasingly took off his pants and underwear. His cheeks were flushed from arousal.

Marco started to stroke himself harder, his eyes closed an moaning softly. He imagined what it would be like to kiss the fireman, to lick his abs, to hear him moan his name. 'Marco…'

That was too easy. Panting he leaned against the wall, while the shower washed away all evidence of his pleasure.

"We have a new arson inspector since today," Ace said.

He got an uninterested grunt in response. The black haired man sighed. It was always like this after sex. Smoker preferred if he just left right after they fucked. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay, talk and spend the night.

Their 'arrangement' of having sex had started a few weeks ago. Ace had met the captain of the police force after a fire and ended up giving him a blowjob in an ally. After that they had hooked up many times, but it was always just sex. They didn't even kiss.

They were supposed to be just fuck buddies, but Ace was starting to develop feelings for the man. He came to Smoker's house often, even if the captain didn't call him. But every time Smoker sent him away right after sex.

Well, today he wouldn't take it lying down. "You know, I just let you fuck me. You could show some interest in my life," he pouted.

Smoker sighed and got up from the bed. "I thought that was what this arrangement was all about. But fine, I'll bite. Please, tell me more."

Ace decided to ignore the sarcastic tone and said in an attempt to make the man jealous: "He's about your age, I think, and pretty handsome. Tall, blond…" He looked at the captain from the corner of his eye, who was busy lighting a large cigar. "And he doesn't smoke like a chimney," he added in a pout.

Smoker went with his hand through his grey-green hair. "If you like him so much, you should annoy him instead of me."

Irritated Ace started to dress himself. "You know what? Maybe I will!" And he slammed the door shut.

'Getting it out of his system' didn't work, so he resolved in avoiding the black haired man. It wasn't that difficult, as he had his own office where he could hide out. Only when there was a fire he needed to be careful, but fortunately he didn't have to do any investigation yet.

He tried to throw himself on his work – all paperwork the former inspector hadn't finished – but every now and then he caught himself gazing out of the window when Ace was working out. Well, who could blame him if the man insisted on being shirtless?

He cursed himself for behaving like a princess locked up in a tower, gazing outside and returned to his computer screen.

The one major flaw in the design of the fire station was that the offices were upstairs, the canteen downstairs and there was no elevator. Marco's doctor had told him to take things easy and climb and descent the stairs as little as possible. Though the blonde had lost his faith in the doctor, climbing the stairs was quite a hassle, so he limited his trips downstairs as much as possible. He also avoided lunch hours, to reduce the chance of walking into fireman Portgas.

When he was staring at the computer screen for a few hours, he decided it was probably best to take a little walk. On the landing he looked around, he hated to be watched when he struggled to get downstairs. Fortunately the hall was empty, as was the canteen when he finally arrived to get coffee.

He placed a cup in the coffee machine and pressed the button for an espresso. While the machine did its job, Marco leaned against the counter and placed his crutch next to him. A beep sounded, announcing his coffee was done. He turned around, knocking over his crutch with his elbow. He cursed when the rotten thing hit the floor with a clang. Walking was getting better every day, but it still took him ridiculously long to put on his pants in the morning, because bending over was still very difficult.

Sighing deeply he started the annoying task of leaning down.

Ace hadn't thought about his threat to Smoker in a few days, but he hadn't paid the captain a visit either. First the man should learn how to appreciate him, he thought haughty.

He felt a little sleepy today, so he decided to get some coffee. After all, he couldn't be caught having a sleep attack at work. If they knew he was narcoleptic, they wouldn't let him be a fireman anymore. He couldn't stand that thought.

When he arrived in the canteen, it was empty except for the new arson inspector, who was currently having a lot of trouble picking up his crutch. It did give Ace a perfect chance to check out the blonde's ass, as he had resolved. Nothing wrong with that.

The freckled man remembered what he had said to Smoker. He had jumped to conclusions with the fire inspector, maybe he should give the man a chance.

"Here, let me help you with that." He picked up the crutch and handed it to the other man.

For a second the arson inspector looked at him as if he had seen a ghost, but then his expression changed and he smiled slightly. He grabbed the cup and offered Ace the coffee.

The black haired man grinned. "Thanks." The blonde presented the cup in his right hand. Quickly Ace checked the ring finger, but the man wasn't wearing a wedding ring or had a tan line there. That was a good sign.

He took the cup, keeping his eye on the other man. The blonde wasn't wearing a suit, like on the first day. His clothes were more casual, making him appear more relaxed. Ace had now the chance to take a closer look at the other man. Now that he didn't look so shocked anymore, his face looked a bit bored, but friendly. A bit of stubble decorated his chin. It was tempting to have a feel.

The freckled man saw the fire investigator's eyes flick quickly up and down, taking the fireman in. He was checking Ace out. Another good sign, the freckled man thought.

He hadn't heard the man speak yet, so he decided to strike up a conversation. "It's Marco, right?" he asked, not being one to be overly polite. When the man gave a nod, he continued: "I'm Ace."

Marco looked like he was about to say something, when the siren started to wail. Ace sighed dramatically and then smiled at Marco. "Sorry, got to go. We'll finish this conversation later." With a wink he left.

A few weeks went by, in which Ace didn't get a chance to talk the fire investigator. He had seen him a couple of times, but then either he was busy or Marco was, or he saw the blonde from a distance.

He didn't have the time to flirt with him anyway. Recently the town had been hit with a streak of fires, most which were determined – by Marco – to be cases of arson. Ace had to work overtime. More than once he had been woken up in the middle of the night and two night ago hadn't been the first time he had to leave Smoker's house in a hurry. Yes, they made up, sort of. Basically, Ace just came around again. They still didn't really talk.

He yawned as he made his way to the canteen. There had been no fire tonight, but he had been training the whole day. He knew he should go home, a narcoleptic attack was lurking around the corner. But he had to have coffee first, otherwise he was sure to fall asleep riding his motorcycle. He couldn't have that. Again. His grandfather would have a fit.

When he entered the canteen, he saw an unknown man standing, drinking coffee. He had a brown pompadour like hairstyle and a black goatee on his chin. A scar ran around his left eye.

"You new here?" Ace asked, strolling over to the coffee machine.

The other man started to laugh. It worked contagious and Ace couldn't suppress a smirk.

"No, I'm just a visitor. But I had to try the coffee, to see how awful it is."

The fireman snickered. "And what is your verdict?"

"Pretty bad." The man made a face. Then he place his cup on the table and looked at Ace. He wasn't checking him out, his look was just one of curiosity. "Aren't you cold dressed like that?"

The freckled man looked down to his bare chest and shorts. "Nah. I'm never cold," he said a little proud.

The man stroked his goatee musing. Then suddenly he smacked with his hand against his forehead. "Ah, I forgot. I'm Thatch." He stuck out his hand.

"Ace."

Thatch smirked. "Yeah, I can read."

Ace looked at his arm and snickered.

"So, couldn't the tattoo artist spell, or something?" The brown haired man pointed to the crossed out S on the fireman's arm.

The freckled man smiled wryly. "That's what a lot of people think, but no. There's actually a story behind that…"

Thatch shook his hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, no worries. I'm not here to pry."

Ace started from his thoughts. He had been about to spill the whole story, until Thatch reminded him they only just met. The man was really easy to talk to. "So, er, you were visiting someone?" he changed the subject.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps you can help me with that. I'm looking for my brother."

"Is he a fireman?" Ace asked, thinking hard if one of his buddies mentioned his brother stopping by.

"No, he's the arson inspector. Name's Marco."

The black haired man's head perked up. "Really? You're his brother?"

Thatch looked like he just offended him. "What, don't you see the resemblance? I know I'm a lot more handsome, but–"

"Not even the slightest resemblance," Ace interrupted him, always straight forward.

Thatch looked at him surprised for a second and then burst into laughter. "I like you kid. You don't beat around the bush. Marco and I are foster brothers, actually. All our brothers are adopted. Big family."

Ace was a bit thrown off guard by all this. It wasn't that he really imagined what Marco's family would look like, but still he hadn't expected this. He always got the impression the arson inspector was rather alone. But maybe that was the result of growing up in a large family. He couldn't help but smile now he learned a little more about the blonde.

"I haven't seen Marco today, but I've been busy. He has an office upstairs, second door on the left, I think."

Thatch nodded. "Thanks. See you around!" He waved and left the canteen.

Smiling Ace grabbed a cup of coffee. That Thatch was one charismatic guy, very different from his brother. Well, from what Ace had seen.

He just took the last drink, when he heard voices coming down the stairs. He recognised Thatch's, so the other must belong to Marco. Realsiing he had never heard it before, he decided that kind of liked it. Carefully not to be caught he peeked around the corner of the doorpost.

If Ace had had any doubt they were siblings before, that fact was now confirmed by their bickering.

"Come on, I haven't got all day," Thatch teased. He was already standing at the bottom of the stairs, while his brother was barely halfway. The fire inspector held on to the handrail, while he carefully lowered himself to the next step.

"Careful Thatch, even in this condition I can still kick your ass," Marco grouched back.

"I'm sure you can, but the stairs seems to be beating you!"

Shooting insults back and forth the two made their way to the exit. Thatch turned his head and winked at Ace. Marco followed his brother's look. He stared at the fireman for a moment, before exiting the building without saying a word.

Ace couldn't resist and ran over to the window, watching the brothers leave. Apparently Thatch said something teasing again, because he gave Marco a playful punch against his shoulder. The eyebrow of the arson inspector twitched annoyed. Suddenly he threw his crutch aside and in a blink of an eye he had laid his brother low. He knelt down next to him, placed Thatch's hand firmly against his chest and twisted his hips. That had to hurt, perhaps even for both.

Ace stood in awe. He really had misjudged the arson inspector. That was an aikido move he just did, wasn't it? And he had to be good, to be able to floor a strong looking man like Thatch. So why the crutch?

But at least it appeared that that nice ass belonged to a person in better shape than he initially had thought.

~ To be continued

[1] Aikido is a Japanese self-defence sport, in which you don't need a lot of strength. I actually practice it myself (though I'm not remotely as good as Marco is ^^;) I tought it would be a fitting sport for him.

So that was the first chapter. I'm not sure yet how often I will update (at least not for six weeks, as I'm in Norway without a computer :3) Please let me know what you think :)

Untill next time! ^^