A/N: The chapters are out of wack right now because I'm going through and redoing them. I'm making them longer and adding more details to explain things that I felt I had left out before.
"C'mon, c'mon…" The clock did not take kindly to being rushed. It slowed down considerably in order to spite the one attempting to hurry it through its steady rhythm.
At least that was what it felt like.
In truth the clock never changed its pace. It was just that Captain Stanley dearly wanted this shift to be over. After a long prank battle between Station 51's infamous Phantom and Pigeon duo, he was ready for the two day hiking trip that would take him and Mike away from it all.
"If that clock answers you, I'm gonna run."
The captain gave a start. He had almost forgotten that his Engineer was in the office with him. But then, it wasn't the hardest thing in the world to forget that Mike was there.
He turned to see his second-in-command regarding him coolly from his perch on the desk. "That's very funny, Michael." Cap replied. "Now tell me, how is it that you can be so patient while I'm pacing the floor waiting to leave? Surely you want this shift to be over as much as I do? So what's your secret?"
"A good book," Mike replied promptly, and resumed his reading.
"No time for that now." The impulsive senior officer snatched the book from his engineer's hands and tossed it aside. "It's eight o'clock. Our shift's over! B-shift's here. Time to go!" He gave a whoop of excitement and dashed out of the room, making a beeline for the locker room to change into his civilian clothes.
Mike shook his head good-naturedly, amused by his excitable friend's actions. He retrieved his book from its new residence on the floor and followed Hank to the locker room.
Mike crossed the bay at a leisurely pace, casting a glance at his beloved engine as he passed it. "Take good care of her, Phil." He admonished B-shift's engineer, who was polishing the front bumper.
Phil Reeves looked up and grinned. "No worries, Stoker. She's in good hands." He shook his head, amused. He had never seen any engineer who was as protective of their engine as Mike was of Big Red.
"You're the one who got a scratch on her last month." Mike reminded him, then proceeded to the locker room.
That scratch was so tiny, a fly wouldn't have seen it. Only Stoker! Phil thought with another amused shake of his head, and went back to polishing the chrome.
By the time Mike reached the locker room door, Hank was already changed. He dashed past his friend and ran out to the back lot where his truck was parked, throwing a "Hurry up, Pal," over his shoulder as he went.
Mike would not be rushed. Mike never rushed. He changed into his blue jeans first, then pulled off his uniform shirt and white undershirt and hung them up neatly in his locker. He then began digging through his locker. Where was that camping shirt he had brought?
Hank burst into the locker room at this point. "What's the hold up, Pal?" he asked impatiently. Mike looked up and smiled wryly. "I don't rush, Cap." He said, and resumed his search.
"What are you looking for?" Hank asked.
"My plaid shirt." Mike replied. "Seen it anywhere? Royal blue, long-sleeved, button-down…?"
Hank shook his head. Mike resumed digging.
"Can't you look faster?" Hank bounced from one foot to the other impatiently. Mike suppressed a smile, thinking to himself that his captain was acting a great deal like John Gage. He decided it would be wise to refrain from vocalizing this observation.
"Found it." Mike stood up straight, the desired item in hand.
"Excellent. Let's go." Hank grabbed his engineer by the arm and began pulling him towards the back lot. Mike buttoned his shirt as he half-walked half-ran to keep up with his friend, who still had a tight grip on his arm.
When they got to the truck Mike climbed up into the back and began rummaging around for his backpack.
"What are you doing?" Hank asked him. "C'mon let's get going."
Mike found his backpack and pulled out the clipboard he had stowed in the front pocket the day before. "Shouldn't we go over the checklist first?" he reminded Hank. "Make sure we didn't forget anything?"
"We can do that when we get there." Hank insisted.
Mike gave his friend a perplexed look. "That kinda defeats the purpose."
Hank sighed. "Ok, but let's make it quick."
Roy DeSoto stood in the bay, arms crossed over his chest, a laughing grin and dancing blue eyes betraying some amusement. His partner exited the day room, coffee cup in hand, and joined his friend at the squad's back bumper.
"What's so funny, Roy?" Johnny asked, curious.
"Them," Roy pointed to the back lot, and Johnny watched as the Captain and Engineer went over their check list, Mike standing in the truck bed, checking over things carefully, meticulously, Cap standing on the ground trying to rush him, Mike remaining unperturbed.
"Now who do they remind you of?" Roy raised an eyebrow.
Johnny snorted and shrugged. "I don't know? Who?"
Roy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well I was thinking they remind me of you and me."
Johnny shrugged again. "Yeah I guess so." He said, handed his empty coffee cup to Roy, and walked off to the locker room to change.
Chet Kelly chose that moment to appear out of nowhere, as he so often did when his Phantom radar picked up on an opportunity to get a good jab at his Pigeon. "I'd be careful if I were you, DeSoto." He warned, a mischievous glint in his clear blue eyes.
Roy took the bait. "Oh, and why's that?"
Chet grinned. "If Cap ever hears you saying he reminds you of Johnny, he'll give you latrine duty for a year!" the Irishman made sure that his comment was loud enough to be heard from the locker room—but not the back lot.
Johnny was there in an instant. "And exactly what is that supposed to mean?!"
Chet looked down and grinned again. Perfect timing. Gage had been in the middle of changing clothes.
"I'll tell you as soon as you get your pants on!"
"Check. That's everything." Mike looked up from the clipboard. "Ah, Cap?"
"Yeah?"
"Why is Johnny standing in the middle of the truck bay in his underwear?"
Hank was undaunted. "As far as I'm concerned it's just another reason for us to leave now."
Mike laughed and stashed the clipboard in his backpack. He leaped down from the truck bed, opened the passenger door and slid in. Hank was already in the drivers' seat by the time he got there.
"All right!" the captain keyed the ignition and the engine roared to life. "Let's go!"
The truck sped out of the lot and onto the highway. "What's the matter, Mike?" Hank grinned, noticing his friend's somewhat agitated expression. "Not used to riding shotgun?"
"Ever heard of speed limits, Cap?" Mike shot back good-naturedly.
Hank glanced at the speedometer. "I'm only going five miles over." he insisted. "Cops usually don't mind that. It's the ones that go ten or fifteen over that they go after."
He was clearly not as cautious a driver as Mike was.
"Get used to riding shotgun, Mike," Hank said suddenly.
Mike raised an eyebrow.
Hank shrugged. "Well that is where a captain rides on the engine."
"What are you saying?"
Hank rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb, Mike, I'm telling you you're gonna be a captain someday."
"I don't think I would take a promotion." Mike answered.
"Why not?" Hank asked, puzzled.
"Well," Mike began. "For one thing, I don't like being in command."
"You took the promotion to engineer, the second-in command." His friend reminded him.
"Yeah, but," The engineer grinned. "That was the only way I could get to drive the engine."
"Ah." Hank nodded with a smile.
"And that's my second reason." Mike went on. "All I've ever wanted to be was engineer—ever since I was a kid."
"Well I guess that's reason enough to refuse a promotion." Hank admitted.
"Besides," Mike added, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If you're any example of what being a captain does to someone, I'd rather keep my sanity."
"Gee thanks, pal." Hank shot a mock-glare at his passenger. Sobering, he added, "I can tell you this, though. Your men would be in good hands. I've known that ever since I came to Station 51. You're dependable, Mike. I know that when something goes wrong, I can count on you to take care of things, especially if I'm hurt."
His mind went back to an incident at the beginning of the year. "When I was electrocuted at that rescue, for instance, the first thing that went through my mind—before I even hit the ground in fact—was that I knew you would handle things, that I wouldn't have to worry about it."
He paused for a second, then laughed. "It's funny how the mind works, isn't it? In that split second where everything seemed surreal and confusing, I was completely calm. The implications of what had just happened to me didn't hit until I hit the ground.
"I guess what I'm getting at," he concluded. "Is that I had no reason to be worried, because I trust you, Mike. That's why I think you'll be a captain someday."
Mike had remained silent throughout Hank's explanation. Now he spoke. "Thanks, Cap. That really means a lot to me, to hear you say that."
Both men were silent for a few minutes, neither quite sure what to say. Finally Hank broke the silence with, "Hey, do you know what's black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white?"
Mike raised an eyebrow and shook his head cautiously. Where had that come from?
Hank grinned. "A penguin rolling down a hill!"
Mike laughed, then returned with, "Do you know what's black and white and laughing?"
It was Hank's turn to raise an eyebrow. "No."
Mike shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. "The penguin that pushed him."
Both men burst out laughing, glad to have a break from the awkward silence.
This sort of banter continued until they at last pulled up at the base of the mountain. "Looks like we're on foot from here." Hank said decidedly. He parked the truck and the two men set to work gathering their gear from the truck bed.
The hike that followed was a long one filled with twists and turns and winding paths; a pleasant three hours that led them up into the mountain and deep into the heart of the woods.
After some time they stopped to rest on a boulder that marked the bottom of a steep hill. Farther up the hill sat a large outcropping of rocks, behind which shone the sun, casting its light over the mountain and accentuating every detail of the picturesque landscape. Mike took all of this in with a quiet appreciation of the beauty that nature had to offer.
And that was when it happened.