Brice knows he doesn't have a lot of friends. Some say it's because he's too honest. Some say it's because he's a know-it-all. Some says it's because he's way to obsessed with perfection. Brice thinks all of those things things are true. After all, he does know a lot more than the average person. And his honesty can sting, even if people need to hear all the facts. But it gets depressing to walk into an empty apartment, day after day, sit down, and do nothing but wait until his next shift. At least he has Belliveau. Belliveau is one of the few people that doesn't get irritated by Brice's habits or mannerisms. Sure, he's a bit doe-eyed, to put it politely, but he's the most loyal partner a guy could ask for.

One day, Belliveau decided to ask Brice for breakfast after their shirt. Brice should've known right then and there that something was up. They almost never hung out off duty.

Sure enough, partway through the meal, Belliveau set his fork down.

"Brice, I'm retiring."

Brice almost spat out his food.

"Are you sure?" Brice asked. "Mandatory retirement age is 55, and you're 53."

"I know that," Belliveau said. "but I've talked that over with my wife, and I think, well we think, that it's time. I've a good career. I've spent 30 years in the fire department, I'm the first paramedic to be certified in Los Angeles county, I'm on the paramedic advisory committee…"

"I know you're old," Brice blurted, "but you can still do your job well. You don't have to retire now. And the longer you wait to retire, the more money you'll have for your Social Security checks. And…"

Belliveau held up his hand. "Take it easy, Brice. Believe me, we've talked about all the benefits, and the drawbacks, and pretty much all the crazy scenarios. I'm ready for this. I want this. I need to spend time with my grandkids, for one. And Lori and I want to travel different places, and take a second honeymoon…" Belliveau grinned.

"What if you get bored?" Brice asked.

"I'll just volunteer with the Red Cross and give first aid courses." Belliveau answered. "I told you Brice, I've thought this out."

Brice sighed. "I suppose one would think a decision like this all the way through."

"One generally would." Belliveau agreed.

"I'm sorry that you're leaving. You've…you have been a good partner." Brice stared intently at a hamburger wrapper several tables away. Stupidly, he almost felt like crying.

"Hey, I'll miss you too. But I'm sure your next partner will be just as good as me." Belliveau tried to reassure him.

"But they won't be you."

Belliveau reached for Brice to give him a pat on the shoulder, but Brice drew back. "Ah, you don't like being touched. Sorry, I forgot."

"Don't worry about it." Brice had a thought. "Have you told any of the other guys yet?"

"I've got them covered. You were the only person I had left to tell."

Brice whipped out his notebook. "Then I need to start the party preparations! You deserve a retirement party as big as the one for Chief Hotus!"

"Calm it down Brice," Belliveau laughed. "Do you always carry a notebook around?"

"I use it to write notes for myself," Brice explained. "Anyway, party ideas…"

"Brice." Belliveau interrupted him. "There's already people planning a retirement party for me."

Brice stopped writing. "Oh? Who's in charge?"

"It doesn't matter!" Belliveau exclaimed. "The important thing is, you don't have to worry about it. It's all taken care of."

Brice set down his pen. "Belliveau, you're my paramedic partner, or I suppose former paramedic partner now. I want to help with your party too!"

Belliveau bit his lip. "They don't need any more help."

"Well, I'd be glad to offer my expertise anyway." Brice insisted.

"Brice…" Belliveau bit his lip. "Brice, they don't want your help."

Brice felt his face crumble. "They don't want my help? Why not?"

"Well, you tend to like things a certain way, and you tend to force your ideas on everyone else…"

"Only the superior ones."

Belliveau sighed. "That's your problem. You think your ideas are superior, so you ignore those who doesn't agree with you. That tends to make people angry. I know you mean well, but not everyone understands that."

Brice sat there, stupefied. "But…I could…maybe just…why can't you talk to the person in charge and change their mind?"

Belliveau groaned. "Actually, I was asked specifically…to not…um…"

"To not include me?" Brice finished.

"I know it's not fair!" Belliveau blurted. "I just don't want my retirement to be marked by fighting! And they are right, you are kind of hard to work with…"

Belliveau clapped his hands over his mouth. Brice felt his face start to color. Sure, he'd heard complaints about his work attitude from his fellow paramedics before, but for Belliveau to say something like that...

Brice didn't care about many people's opinions, but he cared about Belliveau's.

"I'm sorry!" Belliveau apologized. "It's not that I never liked working with you, it's just that…"

Brice wasn't in the mood for excuses. "Belliveau, stop."

Belliveau pushed on. "Brice, you've been a good partner, a great partner! Sure, you have your oddities…"

"I think I get it, you don't have to elaborate…"

"…I mean, everyone has their quirks. Sure, yours are weird and you never want to change them, but it's not like you don't try to get along with people…"

"Belliveau." Brice said tersely.

"…but the fact is that you control everything and that pushes people away and I really wish that I could have stood up for you but…"

"I get it! Just stop sticking your foot in your mouth already!"

The chatter in the restaurant abruptly dimed down. Brice realized that he'd shouted. He closed his eyes. Calm down, he told himself. Breath in, breath out.

The conversations around them slowly started up again. "Brice," Belliveau ventured, "I didn't mean to upset you."

Brice exhaled. "You are one of the few people who try not to," he said, "and I'm grateful. Thank you."

"If it makes you feel any better, Sutton is behind you." Belliveau tried to reassure him. "Once Cap got a wind of what was going on, he tried to change their mind. Unfortunately, Captain Leverson told him that my retirement party planning wasn't a department matter, and that he should butt out, and Cap would've taken it farther except…"

"…you asked him not to." Brice finished.

"Yeah." Belliveau admitted. "I'm sorry."

For a minute, Brice was tempted to ask who else was explicitly against him helping. He decided that it didn't do him any good to know. "I guess it's reassuring to know that he's on my side." He conceded. "Apology accepted. I don't blame you for not wanting your retirement to be marked by a fight."

"Yeah."

Belliveau looked like he wanted to say something more, but Brice flagged the waitress down. "I'll get the check today, ma'am."

Belliveau reached for his wallet. "No, I can get it."

Brice was quicker. He handed the waitress a ten before Belliveau even got his wallet out of his pocket. He flashed Belliveau his best friendly smile. "Consider it an early-early retirement present."

At least I can do that much for you, he thought to himself as Belliveau put his wallet away.

Before Brice could completely accept the reality that his partner was retiring, Belliveau's retirement party had arrived. It was held the day after his last shift. Looking around, Brice had to admit that his coworkers had done a pretty good job, even without him. The squad and the engine had been parked outside in the likely event that B shift had a run during the event. Inside, there were three long tables filled with confections, chips, and even some fruit. There were three double chocolate cakes, Belliveau's favorite, and coolers full of soda and water. Apparently, someone had tried to sneak in a cooler of beer, but Chief McConnike caught them in the act. The funny part was that Belliveau didn't even drink. Brice guessed that the perpetrator only did it in the hope of becoming "popular". He never understood people like that.

There were a couple of bean bag toss sets, but for the most part, people seemed to be stopping in, congratulating Belliveau, giving him a present or a card, chatting for a while, and then leaving. Brice, on the other hand, was standing awkwardly to the side, fidgeting with his bottled water. His crew members and the Rampart staff had made brief visits out of politeness, but for the most part, people left him alone. Belliveau managed to come over briefly at the beginning of the party, but because he was the guest of honor and everyone had wanted to talk to him, Brice hadn't seen him since. He considered leaving, but he wanted to stay and help clean up. Leverson would have a hard time telling him no. And more importantly, Belliveau would appreciate his help.

Brice glanced at the clock. Only a half-hour left of the official party time. He estimated that people would probably hang around a half-hour around that, with clean up starting somewhere in that time range. It was almost over. He took a long drink from his water. In about an hour or so, he'd be safe at home, with a book and a glass of hot cocoa with a little bit of milk in it…

Brice felt a slap on his back. "Hey there Brice!"

Brice choked on his water. There was only one person he knew who greeted people with physical violence. The Animal. "Hello Bellingham." He rasped.

"Oh, that was bad timing, huh." Bellingham frowned. "Sorry pal. You okay?"

Brice composed himself. "Yes. You should be more careful."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Bellingham took a sip of soda. "So, are you excited for our first shift together?"

"Of course." Truthfully, Brice had been trying to forget about it. But apparently, someone in the department had thought that their partnership would be a good idea.

"I know when we covered Roy and John's shifts together we didn't really get along, but I look forward to putting that behind us." Bellingham put out his hand. "To the start of a brand-new partnership."

Didn't get along. That was an understatement. Brice and Bellingham had argued with each other so many times that Captain Stanley ordered them to stay as far away as possible from each other. But, if Bellingham was willing to forgive and forget, then Brice supposed that it would be prudent if he did the same. Brice clasped Bellingham's hand. "To the start of a brand-new partnership."

Bellingham pulled away his hand. Brice realized that his hand was suddenly wet and sticky.

"Bellingham, what did you touch before you came over here?"

"I had some pears, and they were out of forks, so the juice got all over my fingers…"

"…so you licked your hand?" Brice finished.

"...Maybe."

"That's gross!" Brice wiped his hand on his pants. "Why didn't you use a napkin?"

Bellingham shrugged. "They ran out, so I did the first thing I could think of."

"At the very least you could've washed your hands when you were done!" Brice exclaimed. "It's a wonder your patients don't get infections!"

Bellingham furrowed his brow. "What do pears have to do with infections?"

"I'm not talking about the pears!" Brice hissed. "I assume you know what infections are and what can cause them! For example, failing to uphold proper standards of hygiene, such as not washing your hands, like you just failed to do, cause them!"

"I always take the health of my patients very seriously." Bellingham interrupted angrily. "My habits on my personal time do not affect the way I treat them. And may I remind you that I have been a paramedic longer than you have."

"Well, sometimes you don't act like it…"

Suddenly, the tones dropped. The members of the B shift scrambled outside.

"Save us some cake, Bob!" Holland yelled as he headed for the squad.

"I'll do my best, Joe!" Belliveau yelled back.

Bellingham clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. "Sucks that B shift got toned out."

Brice nodded. "It's an occupational hazard."

Bellingham let out a long sigh. "I'm going to play some bean bags. If you ever get off your high horse, you're welcome to join me."

"I have to wash my hands first." Brice snapped back. "Like a proper paramedic."

"Whatever." Mercifully, Bellingham wandered away.

Brice washed his hands the correct way, thirty seconds with soap and warm water. Parties would be perfect if it weren't for the people he thought. He resolved to spend the rest of the party hiding out at the house tower. Maybe if he was lucky, he could hide there until his retirement party.

If he got a retirement party. Somehow, Brice wasn't sure anyone would throw one for him.

Brice made the mistake of glancing toward the bean bag toss. DeSoto and Gage were on one team, Bellingham and Dwyer were on the other. Brice watched as DeSoto nailed a three-point shot straight into the hole.

"Nice shot pally!" Gage cheered from across the way. "I think you got the hang of it!" Dwyer and Bellingham applauded politely.

For a moment, Brice considered joining them. Bellingham had offered for him to be on his team, after all. He was probably being polite, but maybe, just maybe, he was being sincere.

Bellingham overshot terribly, whacking Dwyer in the knee. "Oh jeez! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Dwyer picked the bag off the floor. "You'd have to throw that a lot harder to hurt me, partner!"

"I wish you were my partner." Bellingham muttered.

Brice made his way to the hose tower. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Why would anyone want to hang out with him outside of the context of work? Brice sat down behind the hose tower, staring at the chain link fence, listening to the tick-tick of his watch as the party went on without him.