Star Light, Star Bright, Wish I May, Wish I Might
Chapter 1
Author's Note: This story was originally titled, "Starlight, Star Bright, Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite" and was started by TehMarishal who wrote the first two chapters. Chapters three and four were co-authored by me. For a multitude of reasons, TehMarishal has decided not to continue with this story and has graciously granted me permission to adopt it and finish it. I would like to thank her for starting this story off so well, inviting me to join her in writing and allowing me to adopt it and make it my own. I hope she will enjoy seeing where it goes and how it will end. I hope you, the readers, will enjoy the story as well. -Hotflash
A/N –by TehMarishal: Be warned that this is my first Emergency fanfic. And I'll be the first to admit I don't know everything about the show. So, I hope I have kept everyone in character, and I hope I have kept my facts straight. If I got something wrong, I'm sorry.
Disclaimer by TehMarishal: I don't own Emergency or anything related to it. I simply did this for fun.
Hotflash'sdisclaimer: "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. and Universal Studios, all rights reserved. I do not own the characters or any rights to the television show, characters, storylines, etc. The stories I write are strictly for private, non-commercial entertainment, and I receive no compensation, financial or otherwise. No infringement of copyrights or trademarks is intended nor should it be inferred. The only benefit I get for writing these stories is the comments of readers and the satisfaction of spending time with the "friends" I grew up with. Original characters in these stories, not previously associated with the television series were created by and are owned by me, the author. (The characters of Donna and Andrew Fletcher are O.C.'s created by TehMarishal.)
It was obvious to everyone that John Gage was in a bad mood. The other firemen could tell simply by the way he kept grumbling to himself.
And they could also tell because, as Chet put it, "Johnny seemed to give off an aura like that of a dark rain cloud, complete with thunder and lightening" when he got into a certain mood. This, of course, sparked a short session of banter between John and Chet.
The other firemen observed the banter in amused silence as breakfast continued on. The table was covered with an assortment of coffee and tea, along with a few donuts and bagels. Captain Stanley was talking to one of the other firemen as he sipped his coffee and munched on a blueberry bagel. The others were making small talk as well, or reading the newspaper. Or watching Johnny and Chet continue to make jabs at each other.
Finally when breakfast was over, everyone began to clear out of the room. Some of them were going to perform some maintenance work on the fire engine, or clean the other rooms. Johnny, however, was stuck with dish detail again. And the fact that he seemed to grumble more than usual about having to collect the dishes and then wash them caught Roy's attention.
Roy sighed softly, and then glanced around the room. Sure enough everyone else was gone, so it was just he and Johnny. I'd better talk to him, he thought. It was best to get on with this as soon as possible, to clear the air. They would both feel better afterwards.
"Johnny?" Roy said quietly as he walked toward his friend and partner.
Gage plunked a plate into the sink and turned on the water. He paused long enough to make sure the stopper was in place, and then turned away from the sink. He needed to wait until it was full anyway. "Yeah?" he said.
"Look, I'm sorry about last night," Roy said slowly, meeting his friend's gaze to show he was sincere. DeSoto had always been the diplomatic one, and always deemed it best to be the first to apologize, at least in most cases. "I didn't think that things would be so… hectic."
"'Hectic'?" John repeated, and then let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Roy, 'hectic' doesn't even begin to describe what happened!" He shook his head, turning back to check on the sink. It was gradually filling up. "Next time I need to have my place fumigated I'll stay at a hotel," he muttered.
"Funny, that's the exact same thing I said when I stayed at your place," Roy murmured.
John heard him. He looked at his friend and said, "I knew you were just doing this to get back at me."
Roy heard the undertone of humor in his tone, and noticed the small glint in his eyes. "Yeah well, you know that I didn't do this to get even," DeSoto said, smiling a little. "Besides I heard that you have a whopper of a credit card bill coming up this month, so I knew you couldn't afford a motel."
Gage snorted. He'd gotten into an accident a few days ago thanks to a drunk driver. Ironically, Johnny's skills as a paramedic had saved the driver's life, and John himself had sustained only a few cuts and bruises. But the same couldn't be said for his car; he'd had to take it to the shop for repairs. Hence the monstrous credit card bill that was coming up.
"There's just one thing I don't get," Johnny muttered, shutting off the faucet. The sink now had an adequate amount of water within it. "After you and Joanne got finished raiding the fridge and, an, 'nibbling'"—John made the quote and unquote gesture with his fingers, then shoved his hands into the soap suds within the sink—"you dozed off and started snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. And Joanne just sits there on the bed beside you, propped up against her pillows, reading a magazine and eating chicken leftovers as if she doesn't hear a thing."
Johnny picked up one of the plates and began to scrub it as he went on. "But as soon as I fell asleep on that makeshift bed you guys told me to sleep on—after it took me a long time to find a comfortable position, mind you—she comes in, shakes me on the shoulder until I wake up, and tells me to turn over because I'm snoring and it's keeping her up." Gage plunked the plate he had now finished cleaning into the dish drainer and scowled at his friend. "Does that seem fair to you?"
DeSoto's teeth flashed slightly as he smiled. "Well, Joanne told me that she's used to my snoring, but she's not used to other people snoring."
Gage shot his friend a look of disbelief and bewilderment. "So you're telling me that you can be in there, snoring like a car without a muffler, right next to her, and she's fine with it? But if I'm in the living room, snoring just a little, it bothers her?"
"Apparently," Roy shrugged. His expression and demeanor suggested that he didn't understand it any more than John did.
"Yeah, well…" Gage plunked a couple more plates into the dish drainer. "That was nothing compared to what happened next. It took me an hour and a half to find another comfortable position on that couch and then I got woke up again when a blood-curdling scream nearly sent me through the roof."
Roy nodded slowly, a look of understanding and compassion crossing his features. "A couple of nights ago, Jennifer spent the night at a friend's house. Apparently they watched a scary movie, one that Jen was told not to watch. So during the past couple of nights, she's been having nightmares."
"Ah," was all that John said as he proceeded to wash the coffee mugs.
A moment of silence fell between them, and as Gage finished the last of the dishes and began to drain the water out of the sink, Roy spoke again. "Is there something else bothering you?"
The sigh, along with the hesitancy in speaking, told Roy that something was indeed bothering Johnny. And Gage's next words confirmed it. "I don't know, Roy, I guess I was just thinking." He turned on the faucet long enough to rinse the soap residue down the drain, then shut off the water and moved a short distance away from the sink.
"About what?" Roy prompted gently when the other man said nothing.
John released another sigh, then he did what he always did when he wanted to talk but didn't at the same time. He shuffled his feet, shoved his hands into his pockets, and stared down at the floor as he moved around a little. Then he removed his hands from his pockets and touched his chin thoughtfully, as though trying to decide what to say, or whether to say anything at all.
"It's nothing," he finally muttered, and headed out of the room.
Roy watched him go. He then decided to follow him, to see if John would tell him what was wrong. The younger man always did eventually, anyway. However, the alarm went off right at that moment—as it always did, interrupting his plan—and everything on his mind had to be pushed aside to go and answer the call, along with the others.
A/N Sorry that was kinda short. Yes I do have an idea on what's wrong with Johnny. I just need a little time to develop it more. –TehMarishal
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