Chapter 9

Roy pulled out, catching a glimpse of the children, the ducks, parents, and the deputies in his mirror before the darkness swallowed them. He glanced over at Johnny, who seemed to be viewing the same sight in the passenger mirror.

"So," Roy began, accelerating once he was out of the residential area and heading for the on ramp to the freeway. "What's your fascination with the alligators?"

"Huh? Oh, that, well, nothing really…just," he paused, thinking about it for a moment. "I don't know, maybe because we were talking about the coats, and what could get through that fabric, and it sorta stuck with me."

"Right," his partner agreed, remembering that strange conversation outside of the house with all of the cats. He tapped the wheel with his fingertips, considering all of the weird events of the shift, and decided it was best not to even think about it. He rubbed absently at the scratches on his hand, feeling the slight warmth emanating from them and realized they were probably infected. A trip to Rampart was required, then, to get them, and the ones crisscrossing his partner, taken care of.

Johnny, for once, was sitting motionless on the bench seat, his eyes half shuttered and his relaxed pose indicative of either deep thought or a step away from slumber. Roy felt tired as well, at least in body. His mind was running at full throttle in a variety of different directions. He felt a wave of contentment wash over him at the results of that last rescue, and wished fervently that they all could turn out that well.

His pleasant musings were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a stomach protesting. Satisfied that it wasn't his, DeSoto let a grin escape and chuckled.

"Are you hungry already?"

"I'm a growing boy, Roy!" Johnny protested good naturedly, rubbing a hand across his rumbling belly. "I'm always hungry!"

"Yeah, I can see that. I have to admit, though, it seems like we ate that ice cream hours ago. I'm a bit hungry myself."

A sudden idea popped into Roy's head and he looked at the exit that was fast approaching. Signaling, he moved the squad over into the right lane and took the off ramp. He was pretty sure there was a little diner that stayed open twenty four hours that was located fairly close to the station. If they were lucky, they might be able to order something, have it boxed up, and maybe even have the chance to eat it before they got called out again. The Rampart cafeteria was closed; otherwise he would just head over there and get both problems solved in one efficient shot.

"Well, then, there's always that ostrich egg to scramble up," John mused thoughtfully, eyes gleaming in anticipation. He stretched his neck a bit to look out at the road sign as they stopped at the stop sign and looked over at his partner. "Is this a shortcut I don't know about?"

"I thought we were going to save that egg for breakfast with the rest of the crew? And no, I just thought of a place where we can get some chow."

"Okay…." he murmured, seemingly satisfied, but Roy noticed he didn't answer the question about the egg.

They drove for several more minutes, cruising slowly past one of the refineries that seemed to surround their station and the small businesses around it; Roy was beginning to think that the restaurant was a figment of someone's imagination when he spotted a small, illuminated sign to their right. The flashing "open 24 hours" confirmed his guess that they had located the elusive eatery.

He pulled into the paved lot, noting the several cars, semis, and trucks scattered throughout. Either the place had decent food, or everybody else was desperate for food at two in the morning. He circled around so that the nose of the truck was pointing towards the road, and killed the engine.

Gage bounded out of the squad, swiveling his head about to take in the fairly well-lit area. He started with bouncing steps towards the dual, glass entranced doors, whirled about, and returned to the squad. He reached a long arm into the opened window and grabbed his light weight jacket that had been abandoned earlier in the middle of the seat.

"Probably should tuck your t-shirt in while you're at it," Roy observed drily, lips twitching in amusement as he stopped to wait.

One arm already into a sleeve, Johnny made a disgusted noise. He swatted at something on his bare arm before shrugging the rest of the way into the blue garment. He jammed the dirty undershirt into his turnouts and slapped again, but this time it was his neck that got his attention.

"Gotcha, ya little bugger!" He exclaimed, peering at his hand and then swiping it down his leg. "Although, I guess he got me first…"

He scratched at his neck, and then at the bitten arm, rubbing furiously through the fabric as he headed towards his partner. Roy waved an arm over his head as John drew near, hearing but not seeing the swarm of insects that seemed to be accompanying Gage's forward progression. "It's not the males that bite, it's the females…"

"Of course it is," came the muttered reply. "Thanks for clarifying that, Professor DeSoto."

DeSoto grinned but wasted no time in yanking open one of the café doors and hurrying the furiously swatting young man through. He pushed in behind him, hoping that none of the buzzing mosquitos were hitching free rides. The low hum of noise within the restaurant became a dead silence as the handful of customers abandoned their coffee cups and food to stare at the disheveled firemen.

Johnny nervously ran a finger under his jacket collar and moved up to the counter, feeling the eyes upon him. The older woman behind the long stretch of Formica picked up a coffee pot and headed towards them. It took her several minutes to reach them as she refilled mugs and exchanged words with each patron.

"Some breakfast boys? Unless my watch is off, it's too early for inspections." She thumped the class carafe down, folded her arms and leaned towards them, giving them a cheery smile. She pulled a pencil from behind her ear, set it down on the pristine surface next to the heat radiating pot, and fished an order pad out of the pocket of her equally clean, white apron.

"Yes, ma'am, but could we get it to go, please? In case we get called out?" He relaxed somewhat as she handed him a large, plastic menu and without asking, poured him a cup of coffee and repeated the same actions with Roy. The noise around them had increased as normal conversations resumed and John ran his eyes down the vast selection, a pleased expression crossing his face at the many choices.

They ordered, and settled themselves carefully on the swiveling stools. The waitress moved away, slapping the order form down on the narrow ledge that separated the kitchen from her area and yelling something to the man busy on the grill.

"Never knew this was here," Gage mused, placing a booted foot on the chrome rail in front of him and giving his stool little spins in both directions.

Roy nodded and took an appreciative sip of his coffee. "One of the fill in guys on C shift told me about it; he said it wasn't much to look at, but the portions are huge and the food's good."

Watching his partner do a complete spin counterclockwise, Roy reached out a hand and stopped him from pushing off to twirl in the opposite direction. Johnny, in the process of gulping his caffeine, sputtered and choked at the sudden stop. DeSoto slapped him on the back several times and removed the empty mug from his hand.

"You okay?" He asked, his mouth still twisting in amusement despite his best efforts to keep a solemn face.

"You, uh…." Gage coughed again, and then took a long swallow of water from the glass the very alert waitress handed him. "Why'd you do that for?"

He swiped a hand across his chin to wipe off the excess water that had missed his mouth, and nodded his thanks to the hovering woman. She poured more of the steaming joe into their cups but pulled Johnny's backwards when he reached for it.

"You finish that first, young man!" She ordered sternly and pointed at the water remaining in the glass he was still holding in his left hand. He gulped and nodded again; he raised the glass and finished it. Only after he set the tumbler back down did the threatening finger move and this time it swiveled towards Roy.

"And you, you leave this boy alone!"

It was the call of "order up" that saved both paramedics from further admonishment. She scurried off and the men looked at each other. John mouthed "boy" and slapped a hand against his chest, on his face a mixture of disbelief, uneasiness, and just plain confusion. The hand trailed up to his neck and rubbed at the mosquito bite; he frowned and dropped both his hand and his head.

"I feel like this whole shift has been an episode off of some television show," he murmured, pushing the still full coffee away from him and propping his head up on his hand. His whole body felt like it was itching, burning, or sore from all of the unusual events that had played out and he wondered if they would make it through the final hours without encountering any more animals. He wasn't going to bet any money on it that was for sure.

"You mean like the Twilight Zone?" Roy asked, confused at the sudden turn of the conversation. One moment they were uniting in bewilderment over the maternal actions of their waitress, whom he had to give credit to for diverting Gage's anger, and the next minute Gage was talking about TV shows.

"Yeah, that's the one…" Johnny mused, lifting his head from his hand and turning slightly on the stool to watch the server carrying on a rapid conversation with the cook within the kitchen. "Like they're watching us through a microscope or somethin'…."

"Or something…" DeSoto repeated, hoping that it was their order that was being argued about. He could have sworn that he heard the word cockroach mentioned but surely he was just imagining things? If that was the case about the rodent, he sincerely hoped IT wasn't their order being discussed.

Gage turned his attention back to Roy; his fingers busy playing with the strap of the HT Roy had lain on the counter when they had come in. "So why did you try to catapult me off my seat?" There was an accusatory tone to his question and the curious and puzzled expression that had been illuminating his face only seconds before morphed into something else, something that Roy couldn't interpret.

The flippant answer about to fly from Roy was checked as he paused, considering what he had just seen. Johnny's demeanor had now changed to a masked indifference and he had turned his dark head away once again, rubbing at a fresh blister on his hand with single minded concentration.

Roy finally shrugged; it was late in their shift and he was too weary to try and analyze this guy's shifts in moods, behaviors, whatever. "You were making me dizzy, that's all it was."

"Oh." There seemed to be a lot of emotion conveyed in that single word and Gage paused, obviously collecting his thoughts.

"I suppose you just startled me…" He offered up, cautiously swiveling the stool towards the left so that he could see his new partner.

DeSoto met the questioning gaze with a little smile. "I'm sorry too, for almost choking you, for whacking you in the nose, several times if I'm not mistaken, and for…well, I guess that's it for now."

Johnny snickered and gave him a light punch in the shoulder, which turned Roy a bit on the well lubricated stool. John laughed again, turned, and lifted his head in the opposite direction, sniffing as his attention was caught by the flavorful odor of cooked food moving towards them. The waitress was approaching, four plates balanced efficiently on her arms and hands.

"Now boys, I know you wanted this boxed up and not plated, but Fritz, that's our cook, said to dig in and enjoy it hot. If you get called out on your little black box there, I'll have this stuff ready for you in twenty seconds." Having deposited the steaming plates down in front of them, she reached under the counter and waved several containers at them as evidence. She set them back down and busied herself with laying out butter and syrup.

"Wow, that's a lot of food," Johnny stated, picking up his fork and surveying the waffles, hash browns, eggs, and bacon overflowing his two plates. He glanced at the nametag pinned crookedly on her apron. "Thanks, Miss Loretta."

"Oh pshaw, just doing my job like you fellas do yours. And this is good food too, so you go right ahead and eat up," she added confidently, slapping down several napkins between them.

Gage nodded, his hand involuntarily creeping up to his neck once again to scratch at the annoying bite. Loretta noticed the movement and paused in pouring the never ending cup of coffee.

"One of those buggers got you, didn't she? I swear, I think that oil refinery down yonder is raising these critters; they're breeding and hatching in those stagnant pools of God knows what and come this way looking for fresh blood," she complained fervently, squinting at the very red bite. "I think they get bigger by the year and I wouldn't be surprised if they have two heads and about a zillion of those blood sucking sticks on 'em."

The firemen glanced at each other, both thinking along the same lines of mutant insects and what kind of weird, unknown disease could be pumping through John's bloodstream right now. The younger man blew out an exasperated puff of air and plunged his fork into his food, choosing to ignore both the comment and his imaginative thoughts.

Loretta leaned forward, her head of iron gray curls bobbing and trying to escape from the wide pink band of material encircling her hair as she tipped and tilted her head to get a better look at Johnny's neck. "Hold still for a minute."

"Mmmmph?" Johnny questioned, trying to talk around the mouthful of hash browns that had found their way to his mouth.

The waitress made a little sound of her own, stuck two fingers in her mouth, and then slapped the wet fingers down on the bite. She shook salt out of the shaker and onto the same fingers and applied the white granules on top of the now very wet welt.

Johnny reared back in surprise and dismay, clapping a hand over his mouth to prevent the potatoes from flying out and decorating everything within two feet. Roy threw up his own hand against the other man's back; it was a safety precaution to keep the precariously backward leaning paramedic from splatting on the floor.

"There now," the lady beamed, wiping her hands on her apron. "That should help a bit and keep it from itching so much. Did that for all of my kids and my momma did it for us, one of those remedies passed down, you know, like brown sugar and whiskey mixed together for the croup."

She moved away, stopped to wash her hands in a sink that jutted out from the back wall, and began her circuit around the room with the coffeepot. Roy removed his hand and watched as John finally managed to swallow what was in his mouth and rinsed it down with a very large draught of coffee.

"Aw, man," he sputtered, picking up one of the napkins and swiping his mouth and chin. "I feel like a little kid again."

He looked down at the salt covered bite, apparently trying to decide whether to remove the sparkling mineral or leave it be. He shrugged, zipped up his jacket all the way to the top, and focused on the food in front of him.

Roy shook his head, picked up his knife and fork, and began methodically slicing the biscuits smothered in sausage gravy that covered one of his plates. He tasted, chewed, and made an appreciative noise. Gage glanced over, grinned, and continued coating his waffle in a layer of pale yellow butter. He cut the waffle along the indents into four pieces, moved the pieces away from the middle of the plate, and doused the space left in the center with syrup. He then picked up one of the squares, rolled it, and dipped it into the pool of caramel colored liquid.

He made his own noise of enjoyment. "That's one good piece of food…"

Ten minutes later the plates were cleared, Johnny was enjoying a glass of milk, and Roy was wishing he hadn't eaten quite so much. The door behind them opened and a man and women strolled into the café, arguing in low toned voices that could still be heard in the echoing acoustics of the small building.

"Look Frank, you just can't handle them like that, it upsets them." The speaker was the woman, very petite with long dark hair bound securely into a scarf and garbed in jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and lace up boots which her pant legs were stuffed into.

The man at her elbow simply shook his head and headed for one of the booths that lined the wall under the windows. He was several years older and was wearing jeans that had seen better days, a short sleeved t-shirt, and clunky, mud encrusted boots that forewarned of his approach. "They don't care, and there was nothing wrong with the way I was handling them, okay? Quit arguing with me, and let's get something to eat."

He plopped into the shiny vinyl of the seat and patted the red surface next to him. The lady ignored the inviting gesture and slid into the other side, brushing nervously at her covered hair and snatching up a menu from the wire holder at the end of the table.

Johnny looked over at Roy, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and setting his now empty glass down with a little thunk. "You think they were talking about their kids?"

"I sure hope not," Roy answered, distracted. He stifled a groan as he slid off the stool and stood up. He wondered if there were any antacids in the squad; if not, there was bound to be some floating around the station. Good food indeed, but there was a limit to how much you should stuff down your gullet and he had crossed that line easily. He could only hope that they wouldn't get called out on a run that involved a lot of physical activity, like rescues or fires or all the other things they were paid to do. They had made it through their meal without any calls, so maybe the good citizens of their county would let them have another hour or so of quiet.

He noticed Gage was shooting wary looks over his shoulder as they headed for the exit doors. Probably on the lookout for their over mothering waitress, afraid she might charge over and hug him to death before they made it to the safety of the parking lot. For all of his under the breath mumblings though, John had held himself together pretty well. Even when the very forward woman had come around the counter, whispered something in his ear, and held his arm in a vise like grip he had simply stammered a "thank you", remaining professional and outwardly calm during the encounter.

Of course when Roy had asked his very quiet partner what she had said, the only answer he had received was a fierce glare. That told him it had been something embarrassing, well, that and the telltale blush that darkened Gage's already sunburned skin.

They made it out the doors without any interruptions and trotted towards their squad, both keeping a sharp lookout with both ears and eyes for the blood thirsty mosquitos. The slamming of doors as they both made it safely into the cab was accompanied by a surprisingly buzz free silence.

"Never thought I'd be running through a parking lot trying to avoid a herd of mosquitos…" Roy commented, watching in dismay as Johnny rolled up the window on his side. He gazed about the small space, contemplating the odds of how many mosquitoes were hiding with them.

"Yeah, well, I never thought I would have dried salt sticking to my skin either, adhered by some strange woman's saliva," Gage shot back, slouching back in his seat and lacing his hands across his stomach. He closed his eyes, pushing away that unpleasant thought and focusing more on the happy rumblings of his full belly. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to return to this place, even though he had thoroughly enjoyed the chow.

"You don't seem to be scratching at it as much; did the salt and spit mix actually work?"

Johnny sighed and opened his eyes, staring out through the windshield. "I don't know, maybe, or maybe I just don't want to touch it with bare hands…"

Roy thought about that for a moment and smiled, understanding. He covered his mouth as he burped, and felt some relief. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

He put the key in the ignition and paused, his eyes catching a flicker of movement somewhere in front of him. Gage had suddenly sat up in his seat, leaning forward and scrutinizing the same view, so obviously he wasn't just imagining things.

"I…uh, I see it, but I don't believe it!" Johnny exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the furry animals staring back at them. "What are those?"

"I'm not really sure…llamas maybe?"

"Oh boy," the younger man breathed, his voice rising in excitement. "I don't know which is better, those things or that red elephant..."

"I would guess Tara trumps them all," DeSoto muttered, not really believing that Gage's interest was solely in the animals. He reluctantly followed his counterpart out of the truck. John had only taken several steps forward, resting his hip against the front fender and so Roy went around the back of the squad and came up behind him. He stood there a moment, looking at the four llamas who were studying them with equal curiosity.

"You think maybe they got out of there?" Johnny asked and waved fingers in the direction of a horse trailer attached to a dirty white pickup parked nearby. It hadn't been there when they had arrived, and since one of the back doors of the equally mud splattered trailer was hanging open, it was a logical assumption.

"Yeah, and I'm sure that couple who was arguing when they came in probably own the whole rig. You want to go find out?"

"No, not really." His voice was almost toneless now with just an edge of irritation lacing it, the excitement gone. It was a beseeching look that Gage turned on him, and Roy read the underlying meaning. He may not have shown much of a reaction inside the restaurant but it was clear that he did not want to encounter Loretta again.

"Ok, I'll go find out and you, well, you'd better not get too close to those things," Roy warned, delivering his own look that his partner seemed to understand.

"Right, right," Gage acknowledged, but a grin was twisting his mouth into the exact opposite of his words. Roy had no doubt that when he came out the goofball would be reading the strange animals a bedtime story and lulling them to sleep, or something to that effect. Or maybe, after seeing the way he handled those chickens, he would have them all hogtied and lined up beside the squad on their backs. And probably have his boot on one them with his arms raised triumphantly in the air, wasn't that how they did it in the rodeos when they were calf roping? Only having been to one rodeo in his life, Roy wasn't quite sure of the correct procedure. But then again, with the day they had been having, it was more likely that Gage would end up on top of one of them and find himself riding a llama down the street and onto the freeway. Could you ride llamas?

He wasn't clear on that either, and hastened his pace towards the café, looking backward over his shoulder as he reached the doors. Johnny was standing in the same spot; it looked like he was just observing the wooly beasts that were still regarding him with the same amount of interest. Hopefully they would all remain in the same positions, give him a little time to find the owners, and get the whole thing taken care of before it turned into a fiasco.

Johnny contemplated the animals in front of him and sincerely hoped that this wouldn't end up turning into something that would have to be logged. He knew their captain was waiting for a more detailed explanation of their earlier runs; whether he was expected to give a formal report or just give the details informally he wasn't quite sure yet. It was hard to read Hammer, or maybe he was just looking too hard for nuances or unspoken messages that weren't there. Whatever it was, Gage just didn't want to explain this one, verbally or nonverbally.

He took a deep breath and decided to approach them like they were horses, or maybe equating them with sheep would be a better idea. Or, he should do what DeSoto had told him to do – stay in one place and basically behave. Not really what was said in words, but John hadn't missed the meaning. He was pretty sure that's why his serious partner had stopped him from spinning on the stool inside. Ok, maybe it was a bit childish especially since they were on county time and in uniform, but, hey, it was three in the morning and who cared if a guy was just having a bit of fun?

Johnny snorted and slowly took a step backwards, keeping his eyes on the llamas. Better check out the truck and trailer first, make sure the weird looking things had made their escape from there. He took little mincing steps sideways until he was sure they wouldn't take off running at any movement he made. A quick check of the trailer and the pieces of straw that littered the path the llamas had taken confirmed his suspicions. Now all he needed to do was figure out how to get the runaways back into their cage on wheels.

He moved cautiously around the back of their vehicle and approached the animals from the driver's side, coming up behind them. He talked quietly to them as he got closer, deciding to treat them like horses even though appearance wise the only thing they seemed to have in common with the equines was their color. Two of the larger llamas had their black wooly hair trimmed close, another one was white with tan splashes of color, and the fourth and smallest one was a solid white with longer strands of hair. Did they shear these things like sheep and use their hair, fur, wool, or whatever it was for weaving? Whatever they did with them, they looked clean and well fed.

The four creatures regarded him with mild interest, turning their heads to watch him, their long ears swiveling, and their noses twitching to catch all of the smells of the night. He got within two feet of the white and brown one before she stretched her neck toward him, took a suspicious sniff, and uttered an odd hissing noise. She and one of the black ones veered off towards the left, while the other two let Gage herd them with waving arms towards their trailer. He heard rather than saw the arrival of the owners; they were arguing once again as they took control of the all-white llama and one of the black ones.

Johnny trotted in the direction the other two has escaped, hoping they hadn't made it to the road yet. At the edge of the parking lot the black pavement gave way to gravel and sloped downhill; he reached that point just in time to see the largest llama twist his body and brush against Roy, quite nicely knocking him off his feet and sending him feet first down the little hill in a cloud of dust and rattling stones.

Concerned at the noises that were coming from his new partner, John changed his trot to a lope and skidded to a halt alongside of the prone body. He glanced down at DeSoto, looked across at the rather forbidding creature that was standing a scant inch from Roy's head, and after a second of indecisive hesitation lowered a hand to help the human up.

"Get me away from that two toed thing," Roy ordered in a strangled voice, grabbing at the offered hand with his left hand. It was an off balance pull with Johnny trying to keep his balance in the loose soil and Roy tilting sideways to avoid the head and neck of the llama.

"He does have some weird feet," John pondered, thinking that between the animal's large size and those funny toes he could do some serious damage.

"Do you know that they are part of the camel family?" A breathless voice asked, and both men were relieved to see that the woman had appeared. She unwound the silvery, long scarf from her hair and looped it around the black llama's neck, unconcerned with it nuzzling the long tresses of dark hair that were now cascading down around her shoulders.

"No, sure didn't know that," Johnny conceded easily, casting an admiring glance at her and then forcing his gaze away from the married woman and towards the road. Where did that other one go?

Roy was busy beside him slapping off the dust and debris that littered his uniform and putting on a good show of ignoring them both, but Gage was fairly sure that he was paying close attention to everything that was going on around him.

"Do you guys think you can catch Ladybug?" The woman asked and gave a gentle shove to the llama's neck as it bumped a little harder against her for attention. "I'll help my brother load this big rascal and we'll catch up to you…."

About to say no, Gage whipped his head back around at the mention of the sibling and checked out her ring finger. No ring and no sign of one ever being there….

"Um, sure, or at least until we get a call," he volunteered eagerly, ignoring DeSoto's raised eyebrows and the little shake of his head. "Come on Roy; let's see if we can catch up to her with the squad."

Grinning, Johnny grabbed the other paramedic by the arm and tugged at him. With obvious reluctance, Roy let himself be pulled a few steps before he shook off the hand and ascended the slippery slope. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging more dirt, and paused with his hand on the door of their truck. He watched the lady urging the black llama along with her scarf leash, heard a compartment door slam, and felt the squad move a bit as Johnny jumped up onto the back. He looked towards the café and noticed most of the customers were standing outside watching the excitement. Johnny's favorite waitress was standing in front of all of them, arms crossed over her ample chest and leaning forward, as if to see better. She had taken the cat shaped glasses that had been hanging from a chain and perched them on her nose; there was no doubt in Roy's mind that she would be heading this way if they didn't get a move on.

"Just how do you plan on catching this thing?" he asked curiously, turning his attention back towards the truck and eyeing Gage as he crouched down in the narrow space to the left of the yellow air bottles. John looked up from his hunched over position and lifted up the rope he was fiddling with.

"I'm gonna throw a rope around her, how else? I think she went towards the left, towards that Gredco refinery that we passed. Just don't make any hard turns, ok?"

DeSoto rolled his eyes but grudgingly started up the vehicle and pulled carefully out of the lot, turning left as instructed and flicking on the high beams. Sure enough, he could see the shape of the animal calmly ambling down the middle of the road. He cranked down his window and leaned out.

"What do you want me to do?"

"See if you can pull alongside her, so I can lasso her," Johnny instructed confidently, cautiously standing up and shaking out the rope.

The next few moments reminded Roy of the rodeo he had been thinking about earlier. Johnny balancing with cat like grace on the bumping bed of the truck while he skillfully navigated right up to the side of the runaway Ladybug, the whistle of the rope as it twirled in the air, the graceful arc of the sailing hemp as it neared the head of the now trotting llama…and then of course his smugness at the smoothness of the events unfolding was shattered when the front wheel of the squad dipped into a pothole.

Johnny let out a yell worthy of a stadium full of Trojan fans, the llama jumped sideways with the ineffectual rope sliding off its side, and Roy almost suffered a heart attack as he caught sight, in his mirror, of his barely broke in partner hanging half off the vehicle, head and shoulders pointing down towards the ground. Gingerly easing down on the brake, he slid the truck to a gentle stop and heaved a sigh of relief as his dark haired counterpart caught his balance and pulled backwards. Gage thumped down onto the glossy red metal and let loose a volley of words that made Roy grin and blush at the same time.

"Over there, she went over there!" Slapping the glass of the cab to catch Roy's attention, Johnny pointed towards the parking lot of the refinery. Thankful for the lack of traffic on the two lane road, DeSoto cut across the lanes and followed the sight of the bobbing tail down the driveway that led to the guard shack.

"Oh boy," Roy muttered as the loping animal nimbly darted around the white and red gate arm. An older man with his olive green uniform stretched tight over his ample belly, stepped out of the little, white painted box and waved his arms at the retreating llama. Roy tapped the horn to get the man's attention; the guard reached an arm back into the box and slapped at something. The arm raised and they drove through, the openmouthed fellow staring up at the fireman perched on the top and then back at Roy. Roy gave a little wave and followed Ladybug, who had slowed down and was now ambling across the expanse of cement.

Thankfully, because it was an off shift, the lot was only about a quarter full of vehicles. Roy couldn't even imagine trying to catch the wily footed beast in a sea of cars; it was going to be bad enough trying to corral her in the acre or so of metal and concrete.

He heard the thump on the roof of the cab; hopefully it was the signal from Gage that he was ready and didn't mean that he had fallen off. He accelerated, keeping one eye on the llama and the other on the surface of the cement they were rolling across. The full moon climbing its way through the haze of the city was lending an eerie illumination to the whole animal versus human chase, and for the briefest moment Roy wondered if the llama was going to come out the winner.

"Not on my watch," he declared and caught himself before he instinctively hit the siren and lights. Over the noise of the tires he could hear Johnny shifting his weight; a quick glance backwards showed the other man had gotten up from his position sitting on the forward box and was now standing sideways with knees slightly bent to maintain his balance, rope dangling from his right hand.

Now thoroughly engrossed in the chase, DeSoto fought down the urge to whoop; instead he muttered under his breath," Go get 'em partner" as he pulled alongside the llama once again. He kept a firm grip on the wheel as he watched, in his side mirror, the rope sail through the air and land neatly over the animal's head. Success this time! He slowed and stopped, threw it in park, and stepped out of the truck in time to see Johnny vault nimbly over the side and land with a thud next to the two toed critter.

"We make a pretty good team, eh?" Johnny asked, displaying his teeth in a wide grin and proudly thumping a hand against his chest, doing an excellent imitation of a gorilla showing off in front of the females. And sure enough, perfectly timed, came the owner of the llamas, her hair still flowing freely down her back and her smile as big as the one Gage was sporting.

"You caught her! Thank you so much, I really appreciate you guys doing this for us!" She gushed, taking the rope from John's hand and beaming as bright as the moon overhead.

Roy nodded in acknowledgement as she turned her high wattage beam on him, and then watched in amusement as his very attentive partner trailed her down the wide aisle all the way to the end where their truck and trailer was haphazardly parked. He looked a little closer and realized Johnny wasn't just being polite or overly enthusiastic; the lady had him by the elbow and was practically dragging both him and the equally reluctant llama.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and debated whether he should step in and rescue the kid. Nah, he didn't appear to be in any distress. In fact, he appeared to be enjoying himself although it was kinda hard to tell from this distance. Yawning, Roy crawled back into the truck, drove to the end of the aisle, swung right and headed back towards the entrance/exit. The guard was probably throwing a fit about right now, having a runaway llama, a fire vehicle, and a trailer full of four footed animals all wandering freely about the place…..oh well, let him stew for a bit, probably more excitement in twenty minutes then the guy had had in his whole career.

He picked Gage up after witnessing a very long lip lock between him and the lady, who instigated it but since his partner didn't seem to be in any hurry to end it, DeSoto figured there was enjoyment on both sides. Although the way Frank, the brother, was standing there glowering and tapping his foot, he figured the woman wasn't going to have fun dealing with him once they left. He didn't say anything until they had passed the guard and his little candy striped pole arm and had pulled out onto the street.

"So…." he drew the word out and shot a fast glance at his passenger. Johnny returned the look, shrugged his shoulders, made a wry face, and settled comfortably back against the vinyl of the seat. He sighed in contentment, rolled down his window, and ran a hand through his hair.

"So….what?" Gage finally deigned to answer, innocence dripping off of him. "She thanked me for catching the llama, and offered me a job."

"A job doing what, catching those camel ancestors? And somehow I don't think Frank there approved of you fooling with his sister, so why would he agree to that?" Roy threw another quizzical glance in the younger paramedic's direction, distracted from his questions by the sight of John's head. The running of the hand through the dark hair had resulted in it shooting in every direction, hanging over his ears and brushing down onto his jacket collar. The regulation hair length that Johnny had been sporting last shift appeared to have grown at least an inch in forty eight hours; Roy suspected that the guy was using some kind of hair product on it to keep it contained. Jumping into his bunk after a shower wasn't the best way to wake up with a well-groomed head of hair, especially if you were doctoring it up to keep it within length requirement.

Feeling the darting glances at his head, John raised both hands up and tried to tame it into place. "Well, sorta, they're heading for the Grand Canyon; they're going to start up a business going down to the bottom using the llamas as pack animals. And, I'm pretty sure she wears the pants in that partnership, if you know what I mean."

"Oh," Roy replied, unable to think of anything to say to that. He headed in the direction of the hospital, feeling the throbbing in his hand and remembering the several attempts he had made to get there.

"She offered you a job too," Johnny added, after a moment of silence.

Roy snorted, thinking of the impossibility of it. "Can you imagine me wrangling one of those things down one of those narrow trails? They do have some trails, right?"

"Yeah, there's some that have been around a long time. I haven't been there since I was a kid, though, so who knows how many there are now." He paused, considering something. "You know, they could really build up that business. Get some horses, mules, whatever, and lead tours down to the bottom, camp out and then head back up the next day. I bet a lot of people would go for that."

"Not me," DeSoto said. "The one time I got up on a horse my wife said I looked like a sack of grain with legs. Maybe you should take the llama people up on their offer and suggest the expansion."

Johnny laughed. "You trying to get rid of me already? Hey, who knows, at least I have a job to fall back on if this one doesn't work out."

The radio, which had been silent for so long, went off with multiple stations being called, including their engine. The paramedics grabbed their helmets; John acknowledged the call and scribbled down the address.

"Sounds like a bad one," he said quietly, as Roy hit the sirens and lights.

Roy pursed his lips, nodded, and switched lanes. "Aren't they all?"

~TBC~