"Okay," she said without looking at Critz.  What Meredith had seen and heard was hurting deep inside her chest, far more than the ribs she'd injured.  Meredith shrugged, rotating her arm on the injured side in a big loop.  It hurt, sure, but it was just like a little strain now.  Nothing like the stomach emptying pain from earlier.  Maybe she'd overreacted?  That happened sometimes, with stress.  Meredith cried too, but made sure no one ever saw that  Men just didn't get it.<br/><br/>Stretching her arm wide, she noticed it felt better still.  Just a pull then, and it needed to be worked out.  Her shins felt fine too, but Meredith knew from experience they'd sport broad bruises in the morning.<br/><br/>Meredith finished prepping and backing the hose.  It was important to do it just right so that it would come out smooth and easy when needed.  Despite going slow, using that as an excuse to avoid the other firefighters, the task couldn't take forever and soon enough Meredith was walking down the gangway, balancing carefully under the heavy load.  She headed towards the engine and began stowing gear.<br/><br/>One thing she couldn't avoid.  Meredith went to Critz and held out the black painted mask.  "Where's mine?" she asked as he took it from her hand.<br/><br/>"Not my job to keep up with your gear, Princess."<br/><br/>"You took it from me," she pointed out, voice getting a little tense.  "Just tell me where it is."<br/><br/>"Not my jo-"<br/><br/>"Fuck you, Critz!  Where's my shit!"  Meredith shook the black painted mask and stepped forward towards Critz.<br/><br/>"Bring it, Princess," he taunted and stripped off his heavy leather gloves like a hockey player about to fight.  "You want to go down this road, let's go."<br/><br/>"Just give me my stuff," she said, feeling like a kid on the playground again, wanting to but not brave enough to stand up to the bully who was holding her notebook over her head.  Some of the other firefighters began to gather around the two of them, exactly like the playground.  Meredith knew which side they were on.<br/><br/>"I told you, Princess, it's not my jo-"<br/><br/>She interrupted him again, this time by smacking Critz across the chest with the mask.  There was no way it hurt, not through the bunker gear, but it was a warning.<br/><br/>"You little bitch," he hissed and grabbed the collar of Meredith's coat.  His hand snaked under her helmet and fastened on the heavy collar, got a good grip, and pulled.  There was no way she could resist his force, and Meredith stumbled forward, right into Critter.  Unseen, his other hand came up and socked her hard in the gut, angling up under the ribs and right into her diaphragm.  The muscle spasmed under the blow and she sagged in his grip, unable to catch a breath.  Critter held her from falling and leaned forward so only she could hear.  "You can't hang with the men, sweetheart.  Let me remind you where little girls like you belong."  Critz let go of his grip and Meredith fell to her knees in front of him, half leaning on his legs.<br/><br/>"Hey, boys, I think the Princess figured out something she's good at!" he joked and the other firefighters laughed.  Critz enjoyed the moment, then stepped away and let Meredith sag onto her hands, still trying to breathe.  "Get your ass in the engine, Princess."  He prodded her with his boot, shoving her towards the fire truck.<br/><br/>Humiliated, Meredith struggled to her feet and got into the back cab of the truck.  It was going to be a long, lonely drive back to the station.