You Laugh, You Lose
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"Somebody, please! Please save my baby!" Came a worried, frantic mother's voice from below.
Johnny snickered but kept climbing.
"MOMMY!" Squealed a terrified, high-pitched girly voice.
Johnny paused to lean heavily into the ladder as he tried to control the urge to laugh. He shouldn't laugh; he really shouldn't. But...
He made the mistake of looking up into a pair of wide, fear-filled, pleading brown eyes. He had to laugh; he just had to.
"Shut up, Gage, you're on a rescue!" His captain called, as he too, tried to maintain a straight face.
"Y-yes sir," the paramedic managed to reply. He then continued his upward trek to the third floor.
"Mommy, help me!" The victim hollered.
"It's all right, Shelby." Johnny nearly fell off the ladder. "The nice young fireman is coming to get you, sweetheart!"
Johnny was nearly dying when he finally reached the top of the ladder. "Don't worry, She... Shelby. I'll get you out. It'll... be all right." He couldn't manage the three simple sentences in a single breath because he was now laughing even harder than before. As tears were beginning to form in the corner of his eyes, he climbed into the window to begin assessing his 'victim'.
Just as he was up there doing that, downstairs was where the real action was taking place.
The father arrived on-scene to the burning structure. He saw the fireman climb through the window off of the ladder. Looking around, he didn't see his daughter anywhere. "Jenny?" he called out, hoping against hope that his daughter was safe on the ground. He didn't find her. Panic gripped him with an ice cold fist.
"Jenny!" He screamed, as he raced toward the burning building.
"Gerald, no! Don't!" Called his wife. When he didn't stop, or even look back, his wife ran after him and promptly tackled him to the ground.
Roy rolled over and glared at his shiftmate. "Mike!" He said, "You're supposed to be the mother! You're not supposed to be able to tackle me!"
"So the mother is strong?" Mike shrugged. When Roy kept glaring, he stood up and said, "Okay, you wanna try it again? This time, Marco can tackle you!"
"Can't," Marco said, overhearing their words. He waved a camera in the air. "Too busy being the reporter."
"What? A reporter can't tackle a 240 pound man to the ground?"
"Ah-ah-ah, Stoker," Marco waved his finger at him, then tapped his camera. "I'm supposed to be getting the story; not making the story!"
"So," piped up Captain Stanley, who had walked up behind the trio, "If Marco's the reporter, Stoker's the mother, DeSoto's the father, Gage is the rescuer, Chet's the sad imitation of a twelve-year-old victim, and I'm just the plain old Captain, than that means that only me and Gage are actually working here on the scene; so," his eyebrows raised as he spread out his arms, "where's the rest of my crew?"
Marco, Roy, and Mike all glanced at each other. "Taking five," the three chorused. Cap let his arms fall back down to his sides and he shook his head at his crew's antics.
"Besides, Cap," Marco threw in, "this is for recreation, remember? Name of the game is 'Play the Civilian.' You and Gage are 'it', and we're the civilians. The only rule is that if you laugh, you lose."
"And Johnny's already lost." Roy said.
"Miserably," Mike agreed.
"But then, it doesn't take much to get to him," Marco said thoughtfully. "We really should have had you as the rescuer, Mike." He poked the engineer. "You're a harder nut to crack."
"We drew straws; fair and square. Gage and the Cap got the short ends of the stick. Besides," Mike smiled, "I like being the frantic mother."
"You totally stole my thunder," Roy complained, as Mike gave him a hand up. "I was supposed to run heroically into the burning building to go and rescue my daughter from the flaming beast."
Marco looked confused. "But isn't Johnny doing that already?" he asked.
"Yes. Exactly. Johnny is performing the initial rescue. For all I know, he's tripped over a toothpick and broken his arm."
"But you're supposed to be a civilian," Mike countered. "You're not supposed to know him, let alone his reputation!"
"Oh, please; with all the publicity he's gotten with some of his latest injuries? I wouldn't be surprised if all of LA County knew him!"
"And why did you call the victim Jenny, if I might ask?" Mike asked. "I named her Shelby."
"'Cause Jenny's my daughter's name."
A look of mock shock crossed Mike's face. He pulled his helmet off of his head and started playfully whacking Roy with it, as if it were a purse. He said in the mother's voice: "Why you fiend! You two-faced, green apple, backstabbing fiend! You brute! You cheat! I WANT A DIVORCE!" He wailed.
Captain Stanley lost all his composure at that. Doubling over, he couldn't contain the laughter anymore. He shook his head for the second time in that many minutes. 'What these guys'll come up with if they've got absolutely nothing better to do!' he thought.
Just then, a scream rang out from the third floor. Forgetting their antics, all the guys ran to a place where they could better see the window that Gage had climbed through. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when all they saw was a kicking and squirming Chet Kelly draped over the shoulder of the paramedic in a fireman's carry.
"Quit struggling... Chet!" Johnny demanded breathlessly. "You may be... trying to... act... like a frightened twelve-year-old... girl... but you sure don't... weigh like one! Cut it... out, Kelly, now I mean it!" The lineman eased up a bit on his struggling as they descended closer to the second floor. Then...
Four men could do nothing but stand and watch as their friend slipped on a rung and fell several feet before landing hard against the pavement. Johnny fell on his side, with his arm tucked underneath him. Chet rolled out of the paramedic's grasp and sat up, trying to slow his breathing down some. The startled man looked over at Johnny when the younger man groaned silently.
Johnny held his arm close to him, but did not get up. Chet didn't get up right away, either, as his brain was playing a little game of catch-up.
Roy finally got over his stunned stillness and he raced over to Chet to see if he first was okay. Cap joined him, and Marco and Mike went to check on Johnny.
After a few minutes, Roy deemed the lineman was fine, albeit a little shook up. Roy didn't blame him, though; he would've hated to fall while being carried, too.
"Chet's okay," he informed the others. "How's Johnny?"
"Well, you were right about one thing, Roy," Marco said.
"Right? About what?" Roy asked, confused.
"Johnny didn't trip over a toothpick," Mike supplied, "but he did break his arm."
"Aw, swell," Johnny ground out between clenched teeth.
"Why'd you go and do a thing like that, Johnny?" Chet asked a bit irately. "You could've hurt me!"
"Well I hurt me!" Johnny snapped. "And it's not as if I did it on purpose." Then, muttering just under his breath, "Just 'cause I'm a pigeon, it don't mean I can fly."
Chet regretted his sharp words instantly. Of course Johnny didn't do it on purpose. "Then I guess it's a good thing that Shelby's a very forgiving little victim," he finally said in a soft, apologetic tone.
"Yeah," Marco agreed. "But it's such a shame that you're such a whiny little girl."
"Hey!"
The men all laughed as Roy set up the biophone. In the call station at Rampart General, a curious Dr. Brackett and nurse McCall wondered what all the noise on the other end was about. Unfortunately, they never found out as Roy called in the Code I and Dixie left to set up a treatment room.
Roy began splinting his partner's arm as a Mayfair ambulance drove up. He shook his head and chuckled softly. Johnny heard.
"What?" The maimed medic asked.
"Oh nothing. I was just thinking how almost everything turns out to be dangerous for you. Even things resulting from boredom."
His partner couldn't help but agree.
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A/N: Just a lil' idea that popped into my head one time way back when. I hope to get another Chap. of "Family Affairs" up soon; right now what I have feels just a bit too... rushed, for lack of a better word... so I'll try to fix it and update soon. When I've got time. Anyone ever notice that as soon as summer comes along, people automatically think you have all the free time now, so they plan all the high school grads' openhouses and big events on the exact same day, sometimes at an overlapping period or the exact same time as something else that's just as equally important for you to attend too? ... Am babbling, aren't I? Anyways, thnx for your patience!