A/N: The surprise is not just for Joanne.
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January Surprise, Chapter 2
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0855, DeSoto residence, the next morning.
Roy came through the kitchen door and tossed his keys on the counter. The depth of his sigh, and the lateness of his arrival, brought Joanne down the stairs faster than was normal for a post-shift Wednesday morning.
"Hi, honey," Joanne said, kissing Roy softly on the lips. She didn't smell soot on him, so it wasn't a fire, but something had clearly upset her spouse. "Bad shift?"
Roy sat down at the kitchen table.
"Not really—not except for getting toned out six minutes before the end of the shift. That's why I'm late. Because we had to take someone to Rampart who could've darned well taken a cab. Heck, she could've walked, probably," Roy said, rubbing his eyes. "It was just a mildly sprained wrist."
Joanne poured Roy a cup of coffee. It was none too fresh—she always started the pot at ten after eight, since Roy was usually home at about twenty past. But Roy was used to fire station coffee, so an extra half hour on the burner didn't faze him in the slightest.
"That's annoying. I know how much you like to be able to see the kids off on the bus when you get home," Joanne said.
"But that's not all," Roy said, shaking his head. He made a scoffing sound, but his lips quirked up a bit at the same time.
"Oh?" Joanne asked, intrigued by the ambiguity of the expression.
"Chet … well, let's just say he's figured out how to do something nobody else on the shift has ever done before," Roy said, sipping his coffee again.
"Roy DeSoto, are you trying to make me beg?"
Roy raised one eyebrow, and Joanne blushed.
"Just … spill it, you … you … annoying man!"
"Okay, okay," Roy said. "Chet figured out how to get a reaction out of Stoker."
Joanne stopped in her tracks.
"Really."
"Yep. And … well, it got a little out of hand. I mean, I don't think Mike's actually all that mad—I think he was just as surprised as the rest of us that Chet got a rise outta him. But I have to say, Mike's usually the one that you can rely on to be nice and quiet, you know? Keep things calm?" Roy shook his head. "But not today."
"So … what did Chet do, exactly, to get Mike riled up?" Joanne asked.
Roy laughed. "It was ridiculously simple, really. I don't know why he'd never tried it before, it was that simple." He sipped his coffee again, and looked at Joanne.
He got exactly the reaction he was hoping for.
Joanne put her hands on her hips. "I swear, Roy! What. Did. He. Do?!"
"Water bombed him."
Joanne sighed. "That's all? But that's what he always does."
"Ah, that's what he always does to Johnny. He'd never done it to Mike before. That's what was so brilliant about it, really. The element of surprise."
"Hmm," Joanne said. "Surprise, huh?"
Roy leaned back in his chair and squinted up at Joanne. "Now you look like you've got something up your sleeve, miss."
"Yep."
Joanne opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a carton of eggs. "Over easy, or scrambled?" she asked.
Roy laughed. "I suppose I asked for that, didn't I."
"A little bit," Joanne said. She took three eggs out of the carton, and set them behind a cutting board on the counter so they wouldn't roll off onto the floor. She leaned against the counter, and crossed her arms, waiting for Roy's response.
"Scrambled, please," Roy said, knowing he was as beaten as the eggs were about to be.
Joanne whipped the eggs up in a bowl, and started them cooking on the stove. She made sure to take her time, and when the eggs were done, she set the plate in front of Roy.
"Don't go anywhere," she said. "I'll be right back."
Roy took a forkful of eggs. "The suspense is killing me," he called out to the empty hallway, trying to sound like he didn't really mean it.
But Joanne returned in ten seconds, with a cardboard tube in her hands. She pulled something out of it, and unrolled it onto the table.
"What's that?" Roy asked.
Joanne flattened the item one more time, and then held it up in both hands.
"Men at Work," she said, displaying the front of the calendar. It showed men, all shirtless, engaged in stereotypes of different jobs. A half-naked fellow was inspecting some x-rays on a light box. Another topless guy was about to get into a police car, and yet another improbably shirtless man was leaning over a patient, holding a dentist's drill.
"And you're showing me this because …" Roy said, scooping up some more eggs.
Joanne waited a beat longer, until the exact perfect moment.
"Ammunition," she said, turning the page to January, holding the calendar carefully away from Roy.
Coffee spewed across the table, but didn't quite reach the treasure in Joanne's hands.
"Holy crap," Roy said, once he'd caught his breath.
The photos showed a young—very young, really almost too young—Chet Kelly, in a variety of poses. Mustache free—in fact, Roy thought, he looked so young he probably couldn't have grown a decent one yet.
"Ho … ly … crap," Roy repeated.
He inspected the photos, looking carefully at the background.
"That's Station 23," Roy said. "For sure. That's where he did his probie year. He went to the academy right out of high school, so he woulda been, what, nineteen?"
Joanne nodded. "That was about my guess, too."
Roy snickered, in a way that Joanne wasn't quite sure she'd ever heard before, but found pleasing.
"The years," Roy said, "have not been particularly kind. I mean, in this picture, he's … well, I don't know the right word. But what would you ladies say?"
"Besides unexpected?" Joanne asked. "Because … well, not that I'd actually pictured, uh, anyone, like this, but he's so …"
"Uh huh?" Roy said, dying to hear what words she'd come up with.
"Buff?" Joanne said. "Studly? H—"
"Stop!" Roy said. "Forget I asked. Just … stop."
Joanne stopped. "Now," she said. "Don't you think we should see if Mike would like to join us for supper tonight?"
"Yeah," Roy said. "And if he asks what he can bring, tell him eye bleach. Brain bleach. Some kind of … really strong bleach. For unseeing things."
"Oh, I don't think this is going to get unseen," Joanne said. "I think it's gonna get more seen."
TBC
A/N: Yes, I am a horrible person. :)