A/N: Apologies for the wait. I had a number of Real Life issues come upon me that kept me from writing. I had anticipated that this would not be finished for another month, but, fortunately, things came together quicker than I had expected (Eureka!). Many thanks to all for their patience and muchas gracias to my beta reader.

As always, Emergency! is the property of Mark VII and Universal. No copyright infringement is intended. All original characters are mine. Elements within this story are not to be used without my permission. [posted 8/7/12]


Chapter 11

by Ariane Rivendell

Roy:

After Cap dismissed us, the Engine crew fell out of line and started for the kitchen to finish their coffees. It was kind of nice to have them as a buffer between Johnny and me during roll. I mean, considering what'd just happened…

Mike stayed behind to relay our chore assignments.

Johnny sauntered up closer to us and I did my best not to look at him. Frankly, I was dreading what our assigned chores for the day were going to be. Cap usually pairs us up, but as you can imagine, that probably wasn't the best thing to do, right now.

I was really hoping to get away from Johnny so that maybe whatever happened in the locker room would cool down.

Johnny:

"Alright, Mike. Lay it on us."

I was afraid Cap was gonna pair us up with dorm and latrine duty. I'm not so sure that would've been a good idea. Two of us? At one end of the station from everybody else? Alone? Nuh-uh. No way was that a good idea.

And from the way Roy was tryin' so hard not to look at me, I could tell he was worried about the same thing. I started thinkin' up tunes I could whistle while I did the chores so everybody would know just where I was at all times. Figured that'd keep me out of trouble.

Roy:

"Okay, Roy, you have the dorms…"

Fantastic. Exactly the assignment I was dreading, knowing what the other end of that was going to be.

"…and Gage, you've got the apparatus bay and the storage areas. The Engine crew is on clean-up and I need to flush out the pumps, so we're putting Big Red in the driveway."

Talk about missing a bullet… I smiled just to keep the sense of relief off my face.

Despite the hiccup of the morning, I was beginning to feel better about the rest of the day. And hoping that what'd happened between Johnny and me this morning was going to be the only thing to happen.

Johnny:

Whew! The day was lookin' better, already.

I immediately made for the Squad to move her out of the bay while Roy went in to the dorm.

At first, I'd kinda envied Roy gettin' dorm duty. I wouldn't have minded that, myself. Away from the guys, time and space to get my thoughts together, maybe try to figure out what was really goin' on with me 'n Roy.

But as I was moppin' the bay, I got to watch the Engine crew tidy up Big Red, watch Stoker run the pumps and get her in tip-top shape. It was nice to have that distraction; have somethin' else besides the worries over my partner bouncin' around in my head, for a change.

Made me kinda dread havin' that alarm go off at any minute. 'Cause then we'd be alone, again. And who knows what'll happen when that happens.

Roy:

At first, I kind of envied Johnny's chore assignment – being able to be out there with all the guys and having that distraction.

But as I went through the dorm, changing all the bedding and doing the general clean-up, I was glad to have some time to myself and maybe try to figure out what to do, since taking time off was out of the question. Leave it to HQ to know exactly when and how to make my life miserable.

I'd remembered that something had crossed my mind back when Johnny stopped by the house to warn me about Cap, but I still couldn't remember what it was.

I backtracked over all the events of the last week – hoping it would trigger it back, but it still eluded me.

And I supposed I was going to have to let it continue to do so because the klaxons went off, just then.

"Squad 51, child down. Roseview Park. 1121 Roseview St. 1-1-2-1 Roseview. Cross street Clemson. Time out: 0914."

"Squad 51, 10-4. KMG-365."

Oh no. When I heard it was a child down, my heart immediately stopped. Considering what'd happened the last shift with Johnny losing that kid in the ambulance, I was a little worried for him.

As I left the dorm, I saw Cap hand Johnny the call slip.

"Thankfully, it's right down the street."

"Don't I know it," he said and off we went.

Johnny:

I had to admit, my heart kinda leaped into my throat when I heard Dispatch say 'child down'. A part of me was still reelin' from that run last shift with that family in the cab. When that young girl bled out on me…

After I'd left Roy that mornin', I met up with Gil, who was still sittin' with the mother until someone from her family arrived.

We spent some time talkin' and we talked about that kid he'd been helping when I first introduced him to Roy; that poor little kid who was waitin' for a kidney transplant. Gil and I talked about how hard it is when it's kids facing a life or death situation. It was good to talk to him about that and I think we kinda bonded in a way that we hadn't when he was training with us. Not that Roy wouldn't understand, I mean, he's got two kids of his own. But Gil said some things that kinda made me feel better after having lost that girl in the ambulance.

When the mother's sister had finally arrived, Gil and I returned to the station and the Engine crew was lookin' as shitty as we felt. Not one of us slept. Cap'd called for a debriefing but we'd all just kinda sat there in shock for a while and then, I guess, the conversation happened so gradually that we didn't know we were talkin' about it until we were talkin' about it. I don't think any of us realized that it was almost noon before we were all talked out and feelin' like we could face another day.

Roy:

His hands were gripping the wheel pretty tight. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyes were absolutely focused straight ahead, unblinking. Which pretty much told me he was looking at what was in his head and not the road.

"Johnny? Johnny!"

Blink. "What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Uh-huh.

Any sort of 'person down' call is awfully tough to plan for. In fact, they're downright impossible. It could be anything from hyperventilation to a subdural hematoma. And with kids, sometimes it's even harder to guess. How old is the kid? What were they playing? Did they get hit by something? Did they get into something they weren't supposed to? Did they ingest something? Are they gonna be able to articulate any information to us? Is it some kind of undiagnosed congenital condition? Are they with a group of other kids who aren't gonna tell us anything because they're afraid of getting into trouble or are they with their families? Are the parents or guardians at the scene? Are they going to be hysterical or so in shock that they're calm but unable to communicate effectively? Are we going to be able to start an IV? And what if we can't and it's a critical situation? I think there are, literally, a thousand things that could bring a person down and an equal number of unknown factors that could be there, waiting for us. Trying to draw up a pre-plan on the way over is futile. You just have to wait to get there to figure it out as you go. But sometimes, there just isn't time to play detective, despite the very real fact that you don't have a choice not to.

Sometimes, though, even if you feel you're okay, there's always the risk of having your own trauma being unexpectedly triggered by something at scene that can throw you off and even paralyze you. With this kind of open-ended, anything-goes type of call, there's just no room for personal issues. No matter what the reason.

"Why don't you let me take lead on this one?"

"Now, Roy–!" he started, a finger in the air.

His expression was pretty angry as he looked at me. But as he turned back to the road, his face screwed up and his eyes bounced a little between his window and the road. He sighed. "Yeah, okay."

Uh oh. An immediately submissive Johnny is not generally a good sign and I was glad I'd made the suggestion. Although, truth be told, if he'd started to fight me on it, I was prepared to make it an order.

As we drove up to the scene, we could see a crowd had gathered. There were kids in school uniform along with several teachers that were crowded around the pitcher's mound of the baseball diamond. One of the women – parent or teacher, I couldn't tell – had been waving at us frantically as we drove up. As we grabbed our gear she started yelling, her face flushed in a red-faced panic. "Help him! Oh my god, he's not breathing! Hurry!"

"Is it your son, ma'am?" I asked as we ran over.

"No! We've been trying to locate his parents. Hurry!"

A boy of about 10 from the small Catholic school across the street was on the ground. One of the adults was giving him CPR.

"What happened?" Johnny asked as he checked the pulse and I got the resuscitator on the boy.

"We were playing baseball. Nick, here, was pitching. He pitched the ball, Evan hit it and it struck poor Nick square in the chest and he dropped like a stone. At first it'd just seemed like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him but then he just stopped moving. We called you guys right away."

"I'm not gettin' a pulse," Johnny reported as he took over CPR from the civilian.

I grabbed the paddles and laid them on the boy's chest.

"Johnny, he's in v-fib." I readied the paddles. "Clear!" Johnny moved and the poor kid's body launched itself off the ground. I think a couple of the women screamed.

I checked the scope: sinus rhythm.

Thank goodness...

"Are his parents here, yet?" Johnny asked, laying the leads on the boy's chest and monitoring his vitals.

"They're on their way," someone answered.

"Here, can you hold this on him?" I asked the officer who'd just arrived and indicated the resuscitator. I grabbed the biophone, "Rampart, this is County 51."

"Go head, 51." Dr. Allen.

"We have a male child, approximately 10 years old, about 60 pounds. He was hit in the chest by a batted baseball. He was in respiratory and cardiac arrest when we arrived. We defibrillated successfully times one and he is currently in sinus rhythm. We have him on 4 liters of O2. His parents are not on scene but they are on their way. We are ready to send a transmission, lead 2. Standby for vitals."

"Standing by, 51."

"Roy, pulse is 150, respirations are 26 and shallow. BP is 90 over 70."

I relayed the vitals. But we still had a problem…

"Rampart, the parents still haven't arrived, but the police are trying to get a hold of them. Ambulance is on scene."

"Okay, 51. Bring him in, stat."

"10-4, Rampart."

We got him packed and ready to go. "I'll ride in with him," Johnny said, but I grabbed his arm as he started to follow the gurney into the ambulance.

"Johnny, I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"I got it," Johnny said, and clambered in. I hesitated, still not convinced it was a smart idea. No matter how many kids he ever treats, he'll never be able to bring back that girl. But I knew that look on his face - he'd save that boy with his dying breath if he had to. Granted, if I hadn't been able to convert him from v-fib, I would've made it an order. If he could just keep him stable on the way to Rampart… "Johnny, hold on."

"Roy…!"

I grabbed the HT out of the Squad and handed it to him. "Take this. If the parents arrive, I'll let you know."

I could see his shoulders give a little. "Thanks."

I let him go.

So much for my taking the lead on the case.

The ambulance moved off and I was about to follow in the Squad.

"Roy?"

I turned to see the officer with a stricken and harried-looking couple with him.

"This here's Mr. and Mrs. Donald Selby. Their son, Nick, is the one you treated."

I quickly explained the situation, relayed their approval for IVs to Johnny in the ambulance and told them to meet us at Rampart General.

Johnny:

"Treatment 3," Dixie said as we wheeled the kid in.

We moved him in and then onto the bed. Drs. Allen and Morton were waitin' for 'im.

I stood by in case there was anything more I could do. Something was buzzing in my ear and I waved it away.

"Hey," I heard Roy's voice whisperin' in my ear. "Didn't you hear Dr. Allen? He said we can go."

"Oh. He did?"

"Yeah. He did. C'mon. Let's get some coffee."

But I couldn't take my eyes off the kid. Next thing I knew, Roy was grabbin' my arm and leading me out of the treatment room and over to Dixie's Bar. That's what we call that little corner of her world. Well, that's what Dwyer started callin' it and the name kinda stuck, but she does kinda seem like a bartender, at the neighborhood watering hole, y'know? She's got customers who come in with all kind of stories; she hears everything, sees everything, and knows when to dole out that sage advice o' hers and when a drink is what somebody needs most. Though I guess in her case, coffee's the poison of choice. I noticed she was talkin' to a couple of frantic parent-types further down the hall so Roy plunked me down on Dixie's chair.

I thought I heard the sound of coffee mugs or…something, but all I was seein' was that girl in the ambulance from the other day, bleedin' out on me… Dammit!

"Hey, hey…" I heard Roy's voice again, soft, in my ear. "Yeah, you're right. This isn't very good. Maybe the lounge is better," he said pretty loud and then his hand was on my arm and I was bein' hauled down the hall.

Right? Right about what? What about the lounge? What're you talkin' about? An' where're we goin'? Funny, I don't remember hearin' the tones over the HT… "We get a run?"

"Not exactly."

Next thing I knew, we were in the lounge and Roy steered me to the table and headed for the coffee maker.

"Why'd we come in here?"

"'Cause you were scaring the parents."

"What parents? What're you talking about?"

Roy slid into the seat next to me and laid down a mug of coffee in front of me. "When you slammed your fist onto the counter."

"Slammed my fist onto the counter? When did I do that?"

Roy put his mug down real slow and leaned over and looked at me. "Just now. You don't remember?"

It was only then that I'd realized my hand was kinda sore. "I guess I did."

"You were thinkin' about that girl bleedin' out on you the other night, weren't you?"

"Yeah. I…I guess I was." And then I remembered seein' Dixie in the hallway talkin' to those folks. "Oh man…Dixie was talking to the parents of that boy, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. She was. They looked up when you hit the counter. There was no way they were gonna know you were thinkin' about another patient, so—"

"Ah, shit, Roy…"

Roy:

He laid his head down on the table and I figured it was best to just wait for a few moments.

"Dammit, Roy," his voice was muffled being under the table. "I thought I got it all outta my system."

"What do you mean?"

He brought his head up and I could see his nose was red and his face was a little flushed. "Gil and I talked about it a little. You remember when I first introduced you to him, he was talking to that kid?"

"Yeah. He was waiting for a kidney transplant, right?"

"Yeah. We talked about him for awhile and about that girl bleedin' out on me. Kinda helped me through that rough spot. But I guess hangin' around him for a day and a half kinda got me a bit rattled before that and I wondered if, maybe, that's why I'd allowed myself to get all worked up over losin' her."

That sent a bizarre combination of hope and worry stabbing right through me. "What do you mean?"

"See, he'd been kinda having a hard time, ever since they started the Paramedic Advisory Board. He's been doing that inadequate thing again, feeling like he's not qualified enough to be out in the field."

"And that terrible run at five in the morning last shift made you feel the same way."

"I guess it did. I guess listening to him go on about it kinda got me thinkin' about it."

"I can imagine it was hard not to. After a call like that – who wouldn't feel helpless?"

"That's exactly it, Roy. I couldn't help her. She was the only one of those kids to survive and I couldn't save her. It was my job and I couldn't do it. All the years of experience, all the training, the certifications, the re-training and I couldn't stop it. And I was so afraid that same kinda thing was gonna happen again with that kid, this morning…"

Before I'd realized it, I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed a little. "Johnny, stop it. Look, I knew you were gonna be worried about it. But you did everything you could, right?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Right?"

Sigh. "Yeah."

"Okay, then. Look, I know that sounds trite and useless, but you did. I know you did. And I know you know that. But you've gotta start believing it or you really won't be of any help to anybody."

Johnny:

"I know that. Like I said, I thought it was all out of my system after I talked to Gil. I guess that kid this morning brought it all back. But now, I can't seem to shake it."

It had been nice to feel his touch, again. His thumb was kinda rubbing me a little.

But his hand slid off my arm and he started drinking his coffee when I mentioned Gil's name.

And he wasn't lookin' at me.

He put his cup down, eyes starin' in it like he'd lost something in there and stood up. "C'mon, Junior. We'd better make ourselves available."

"I'm not through, yet."

"You can pick up where you left off at the station." And he was out the door.

What has gotten into him all of a sudden?

Roy:

Dix was back at her usual spot, nose in a chart, and I saw the mother huddled into herself in a corner of the waiting room. I was a little concerned that she seemed to be by herself and felt an urge to keep her company, but then I saw the father at the public telephone. Oh, okay. Good.

Johnny appeared at the ER base station and angled an irritated look at me. "Hey, Dix, uh, any word on the kid?"

"Well, it appears you both got to him in time. It's still a bit early, but they think he'll pull through."

Johnny stepped back, leaned against the counter, arms outstretched, and let out a long, slow breath, head down. I'm not sure either of us realized we were even holding our breath.

Johnny:

"That is one hell of a relief," I said, straightening back up.

"You're telling me. The parents are doing everything they can to keep it together," Dixie said, lookin' down toward the waiting room. Then she looked at my partner. "Well, Roy, it's nice to see you back on your feet again."

"Good to be back on my feet again."

"I'll bet. Although, you know – and, don't take this the wrong way, Roy - it was good to see Gil, again. The circumstances were lousy, but it was good to see him. Especially since his station works out of Harbor General, we rarely cross paths. He's really turned into a great paramedic."

Roy nodded a little and then he turned away from us, looking down toward the waiting room.

"Yeah, he has. I think it just took awhile for him to get used to how much responsibility he had. But he's finally come into his own. He's really got a knack for it, although he's startin' in on his doubts again. But I swear, if he ever decides he wants to stop bein' a fireman paramedic, I think he'd make a great shrink."

"You know, I think you're right, Johnny. What do you think, Roy?"

He looked at us like we were both crazy, "I think we'd better start getting back. See you later."

Dix's eyebrow rose, "Bye." She looked at me and cocked her head at him. "What's eating him?"

"Beats me. But he's got the keys, so I'd better skedaddle. See ya."

"See ya."

I ran after my partner and caught up with him, all irritated again. "Now what is your problem?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I don't know, Roy, you tell me. Every time somebody mentions Gil's name, you act like...you act like..."

Roy:

Now I was getting irritated. I stopped and looked at him, "I act like what?"

"Like you're irritated or something."

Oh brother. I started for the entrance, "I'm going back to the Squad."

"Well there you go. You're doin' it again!"

"Doin' what, Johnny?"

"Leaving! Like I said, every time his name gets mentioned you get irritated."

"Why would I get irritated?" I was kinda hoping the ER doors would close on him. Unfortunately, I was having no such luck.

"How should I know? You're the one who's irritated!"

Here we go… "I am not irritated. I like Gil. Why would I be irritated by him?"

He grabbed my arm just as I was about to get in. "Hold on. Are you…are you jealous of Gil?"

I couldn't believe he asked me that question. "No! I'm not…" I stopped and looked him square in the eye. "No, I am not jealous of Gil."

He turned and headed for the passenger side. "Well, you keep gettin' this weird look on your face every time I mention him."

I peered over the roof, "Why would I be jeal— Look, I'm not so sure I want to dignify your accusation with an answer."

"Okay. Alright, fine. You're not jealous of him. Fine!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

We rode back to the station in silence.

I wasn't jealous of Gil.

At least…I didn't think I was.

Johnny's perceptivity kinda unhinged me a little. I'd spent the last several years being bewildered by how his brain's logic circuits function. Suddenly, his analytical skills had made a straight line instead of their usual rollercoaster route and it caught me a little off-guard that he'd zeroed in on my problem.

Sorta.

But if I wasn't jealous, then…what was I…?

I really was glad that Gil was there for my partner. After a run like that, it would get to anybody. Including Brice, I have no doubt, whether he'd ever admit it to anyone or not.

Gil was a good guy and I liked him a lot. Kept his head on his shoulders and saved my eyesight after I'd gotten sprayed in the eyes by that spitting cobra coupla years back.

And if Cap extended 51s debriefing until lunch, he obviously felt they'd need it. I'm glad they were all there for each other…

I wasn't feeling jealous.

I was feeling left out.

Like I'd let him down. Like I'd let them all down.

And I was feeling more than a little angry with myself.

Mistake No. 4… I'd allowed my ego to get in the way of my judgment. Had I listened to Johnny at the top of that cliff and called in another rescue squad to take over, I wouldn't have ended up in the hospital with a concussion. Johnny wouldn't have had to rescue me and I wouldn't have ended up feeling…everything…on that cliff. I wouldn't have ended up missing out on that run and I woulda been there for Johnny and the rest of the guys.

Instead, it was Gil.

And Gil whom Johnny would turn to because I couldn't be there.

But what bothered me more was…why it bothered me so much.

~!~

[after dinner]

Johnny:

It'd been a pretty average day, so far. During chow, Roy and I had figured we'd get a run or two after lights out, maybe a call for the Engine. But right now, with Cap's clam chowder makin' us all feel pretty full, the guys were about to settle in for a movie on the tube. All except Roy, who I didn't see anywhere.

Ever since we'd gotten back from Rampart after I'd accused him of bein' jealous of Gil, we hadn't talked much. Now, that's not necessarily anything unusual. There've been a number of times in the past where, for whatever reason, we both ended up just kinda not sayin' much to each other all shift. Not that we were mad or anything it's just…I guess we'll have spent so much time together before that that we'd kinda talked ourselves out of stuff to talk about and so we'd find ourselves hanging around the Engine crew.

But this hadn't been that kind of day. We'd been civil to each other since that first run and still worked together just fine on a run, but I kinda sensed he was avoiding me on purpose.

And I wasn't liking it. Not just the avoidance thing, of course, but I felt like, well, I'm not real sure quite how to put it, exactly. I felt like I was losing him. Forget all the stuff that'd been goin' on between us lately – I felt like this thing with Gil had driven a wedge between us and…well, I dunno, like our friendship was at stake. Something had rattled him and I wanted to figure it out before the end of shift. 'Cause I had this weird feelin' that if we didn't fix this now, Roy and I were lookin' at the eventual end of our partnership.

I finally found him in Cap's office, sittin' on the side chair, adding all our runs to the log book. I knocked and walked in. "Hey there, partner."

"Hey there, yourself," he answered, his nose still in the book.

"They're gettin' ready to watch 'Smokey and the Bandit'. You comin'? Marco made popcorn."

"No, I've already seen it with the kids, thanks."

"Okay." I leaned against the desk, grabbed the stack of slips and forms he was workin' out of. "You want me to finish writin' all this in?"

He just looked up at me at the top of his eyes, "No, I got it. Thanks."

"Ohh-kaaaay." I handed him back the stack and he kept writin' in the book. I finally just gave up. "Well, see ya."

"Yeah. See ya."

Roy:

I dropped the book down on the desk after he left. Shit. Well, you about messed that up but good, Roy Patrick DeSoto.

I really hadn't meant to give him the cold shoulder, but I guess I wasn't up to forgiving him, just then.

No…

No, the truth of the matter was I wasn't up to forgiving myself.

I guess I still had some things to sort out between Gil Robinson and my stupidity. I grabbed the log book again and picked up where I'd left off, hoping I'd be able to concentrate long enough to finish it before the wake-up tones tomorrow morning.

~!~

[two hours later]

Johnny:

I'd looked everywhere for him after the movie was done. Finally found him out back, leanin' on his car, scratchin' his neck, watchin' the 405 and lookin' kinda lonely, actually.

I didn't want to startle him so I just walked on over, real casual-like. I kicked a rock in his direction to let him know, except, I think it actually hit the car. I guess, maybe, that wasn't the best idea…

He musta heard me comin', 'cause he turned around as I got close. "Hey there."

"Hey there."

"Nice night, isn't it?" He looked up. Scratched again.

I looked up. Clear sky with a couple of stars out, now that twilight was finally gone. "Yeah. Real nice." I walked closer. "Listen, uh, Cap says lights out in twenty."

"Oh. Okay. That late already, huh?"

"Yeah."

I went and leaned on my Rover since we were parked next to each other. "You, uh, you been out here all night?"

"No, I finished off the reports little while ago and then just came out here to enjoy the evening."

"Oh."

"How was the movie?"

"Uh…good. Good. Real, uh…it was good." Actually, I have no idea. I'd barely paid attention to it 'cause all I was thinkin' about was you.

"That's uh…that's good. How's your hand?"

I looked at it, rotated my wrist a little. "Oh, it's fine. It's fine."

"That's good."

We watched the 405 for awhile.

"Listen, Roy—"

"Johnny, look—"

"Aw hell… You…go ahead."

"Naw, you started first –"

"It's okay, Roy, you…you go ahead—"

"No, that wouldn't be fair—"

"Oh for Heaven's sakes, listen to us. We can't even get an argument started."

He nodded and laughed. "Yeah, we're pretty hopeless, huh?"

"Yeah," I laughed and looked at him. His eyes were dancing with the lights of the city reflected in 'em. One of the security lights from next door happened to be right behind him and it gave him a kind of soft, portrait glow around him. I didn't want to lose my best friend. "Look, uh…I shouldn't have said anything. About Gil, I mean. I was reaching and that was just not a nice thing to say, I guess."

"Well," he looked at me. "You may have been reaching but, truth be told, Johnny, you weren't that far off the mark. I mean, I'm not jealous, I just want to make that clear."

"Oh, yeah, no, I...I understand."

"Guess I was more angry at myself for not being there for you guys. On that run, I mean."

Leave it to Roy to leave me confused. "Whaddya mean you were angry at yourself? You'd just done ten rounds with a hang glider off a cliff, Roy! Did you really expect to come out of it with just a scratch?"

"I shouldn't have been there in the first place. I should've listened to you when you asked whether I wanted another Squad to take over."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Roy, listen. We do our jobs at the time to the best of our ability. Do you sit around on every run wondering how it's going to affect the next one?"

"Well…no."

"Then why are you making it an issue with the hang glider incident? Dammit, Roy, just let it go. You did what you did, what happened happened and you move on to the next one! I swear, you drive me crazy, sometimes."

"Have you moved on from that girl in the ambulance?"

I opened my mouth to respond but…I couldn't think of anything to say. Damn, if, well…he didn't have a point. "Yeah, yeah, alright. You win."

He had that coy smile on his face, "Wasn't trying to make it a competition, Johnny."

"Yeah, I know, I know…"

"I just feel like…I wanted to be there with you guys, that's all. I mean, you're my partner. I just feel like…I let you down, y'know?"

He started scratching the right side of his neck, again.

"Why do you keep scratchin' for?"

He held his hands out, "It's itchy. Why do you think?"

"Lemmee take a look."

"What for?"

"I dunno, maybe you picked up some horrible rash at Rampart that's now metastasized to your brain." I grinned at him.

"No doubt I caught it from you."

"Very funny. Now let me look."

He cocked his neck to the left and I grabbed my pen light and peered close at where he'd been scratching. I used one hand to keep his shirt collar out of the way and palpated real gentle with my other fingers. "This is where you got burned."

"Yeah."

I could see and feel that his skin was startin' to peel.

And my own was startin' to buzz, again, with how close we were to each other. I could hear his breathing, real close, could feel how warm he was against the light breeze.

"Skin's startin' to peel."

"Yeah, I gathered."

I placed his shirt collar back over him and rubbed him a little. I felt like our conversation wasn't entirely finished. "About earlier. What we were talkin' about?"

His breathing was deep. It took him a coupla moments to answer and he swallowed hard. "Yeah. What about it?" His voice was soft and a little ragged.

"You could never let me down, Roy. You're my partner."

Roy:

He moved around to my right and his hand tenderly squeezed my shoulder, then slid down my back and slipped off me as he headed back inside.

A warmth pulsed through me, right then; almost like how it felt on the cliff and I could still feel where his fingers had lightly touched the skin on my neck. It seemed like almost a full minute before I could take a breath, again.

I felt a sense of relief and terror at Johnny's reassurance and…what I'd hedged was…permission.

Every logical argument I've made to myself against this was yelling at me inside my head. I wanted to keep fighting it. No, that's not it. No, I wanted to want to keep fighting it. But I…didn't really want to. I'd been fighting it for the better part of a week and it hadn't gone away, despite every point of debate I'd thrown at it.

Something about this…something about what was happening between us felt…right.

I suppose some would argue that my next decision was Mistake No. 8. And that very well may be the case.

In the end, I couldn't ignore my reaction to Johnny's 'invitation' any more than I could ignore the points of reason that demanded all rejection of how I felt.

But maybe there was a way that I could listen to both.

After all, we had all the time in the world…

~!~


Johnny:

I think that conversation in the parking lot kinda led to this "permission" we gave ourselves to just see what would happen. To not fight it, anymore; whatever "it" was supposed to be. I know, for myself, I got tired of tryin' to figure it out and figured that, well, since it keeps happening, maybe it's supposed to be a good thing.

Don't get me wrong – I was pretty scared! I really had no idea if I was gonna wake up one day and find that the feelin' had gotten stronger, or I was gonna find myself hating him, or suddenly not caring anymore and having everything go back to the way things were before all this happened without any explanation.

Which kinda seems like that's how all this started: with no explanation.

A few weeks of shifts went by and that whole time we found ourselves coming up with excuses to be around each other, to touch each other…

The Engine was out on a run as we got back to the station.

I got out before he did and started for the dayroom. He closed the Squad door, "Ow!"

I walked over and smiled at him, "You did it again, didn't you? You oughta have somebody take a look at that."

He threw me a knowing smile back and started for the kitchen, forcin' me to walk backward. "I did. It'll work itself out."

"I meant you should have a professional look at it."

"Uh huh. You saying I'm not a professional?"

I stopped before we got to the kitchen, "No, I'm not saying that at all." I lightly grabbed his fingers and brought them up, rubbing them a little as I just looked at him. "I'm just saying, you should have a professional take a look at it."

"Uh huh." He watched me examine his finger, that smile never leavin' his face. I know 'cause I kept checking.

Sure enough, that splinter in his index finger was long and wedged in there, but I was gonna need some help. I wasn't all that sure about doin' it – figured he'd pull back or something – but, still holding onto 'im, I walked backward back to the port-side compartments to grab the tweezers out of the trauma box. He had this kinda shy look on his face the whole time. Took a coupla tries but I managed to relieve my long-suffering partner of his painful, traumatic impalement.

"There. That'll teach you to grab the wooden slats of the gate instead of the handle." I rubbed his finger where the splinter had been. He didn't try to wriggle out of my grasp.

"Well we had to get inside pretty quick, didn't we?"

"Uh huh."

He looked down at my hand holding his fingers. "You know, I was gonna wait till I got to the locker room to take care of that."

"And prolong your pain and suffering? As your partner, I couldn't just let that happen, now, could I?"


Roy:

We kept brushing up against each other or our hands would linger on each other's arm or shoulder when we were trying to get past each other on a run. I guess things between us had been slowly building since our conversation in the parking lot. I realized that I must have changed, too, because I did something I never thought I'd ever do.

We'd been at a 3-alarm and spent most of that time in the inevitable controlled chaos of the triage area we'd set up. With everybody tripping over each other and grabbing whoever was closest to assist, we found ourselves trading partners with the guys from 110s and 24s. And I gotta tell ya, Johnny and I about stopped in our tracks when we heard 24s was called in; thought as I gonna have to restrain Johnny or put him under if Dunning showed up. Fortunately for Dunning, he was still on suspension. Johnny and I'd barely seen each other the whole time as we got to treating a fair number of our brothers for smoke inhalation and a couple of minor and major fractures and burns. Johnny and I had a last-minute follow up to Rampart – respiratory distress cases from a couple of the guys who weren't wearing their masks doing overhaul. We argued the entire way back to the station about whether we should've stopped in the cafeteria to eat – which we didn't - or wait till we got back to the station for Mike Stoker's spaghetti – which we did.

Which led me straight to Mistake No. 9. Although I imagine it was No. 212 by now…

I stopped in disbelief in the kitchen doorway to see the Engine crew draped over all the furniture.

And no spaghetti.

I started to feel a bit miffed, thinking they'd already cooked, eaten and cleaned up while we were gone and left nothing for Johnny and me.

Apparently, my partner had the same thought because he ran right into me and then stared over my shoulder at the empty, foodless kitchen. "Well…don't tell me you guys ate and cleaned up everything already?"

"Nope," Cap replied from the recliner, sounding pretty tired and disconsolate, fingers tapping the armrest.

"John? Roy? Tell me you brought food? I'm starving! I could eat a horse!" Chet grumbled from the couch, then plopped his head over the backrest.

"I could eat a horse and a cow. And maybe even a coupla chickens," Marco added wearily from the other end of the couch.

"Forget the horse and the cow, I could eat a whole whale! You mean you guys haven't even started dinner, yet? You left before we did!" Johnny said. His hand brushed along my hip before he scooted past me and headed straight for the cookie jars.

"Stoker claims that there's not enough time to make spaghetti," Cap answered with chagrin and an annoyed glance at Mike, who was sitting with his head down at the table. "Unless we want to eat at 10 O'clock. Frankly, we've just been too damned tired to get up and make something else."

I looked around at this stalwart crew of firemen – my intrepid brothers – soundly beaten by a lack of spaghetti.

I knew exactly how they felt.

It did surprise me, though, that no one remembered the marinated chicken that Charlie Wilson from C-shift had left in the fridge. I was about to mention it when Johnny handed me a couple of ginger cookies and he brushed past me to get to the bay. I guess he, too, had missed the physicality we seemed to have routinely settled into, of late.

So did I.

And before I knew it, a devious plot formed in my head.

"I have an idea, Cap. Since Johnny and I are the only ones left standing, why don't we go grab something from the store?"

Cap, beaming, looked over at me and clapped his hands. "Great! What're we having?"

"Great that Roy's cooking?" Chet asked. "You really are starving."

"No, it's just great that it's not me doing the cooking. What're we having, Roy?"

Oh. Actually, I…hadn't thought that far. "Ah…it's a surprise. But we need to go grab some supplies."

Cap threw me a desperate look, "At Rampart? Now?"

He must've really been in distress because I've rarely, if ever, heard him put us before the job.

"Yeah, weren't you guys just there?" Marco asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Relax. I meant grocery supplies."

Cap deflated, "Oh, right. Well, hurry back, alright? If we get another call before dinner, I'm giving you chow duties for the next month." Somehow he managed to conjure up the energy to raise himself out of the chair and drag himself across the floor to the cookie jar.

"No problem, Cap," I grabbed my partner and we hurried out of there.

It felt good for us to be alone. After the chaos of the day, it was nice to have some peace and quiet; for us to just be in the Squad together without doing anything urgent. It doesn't happen very often. But it's a nice time when it does. We didn't say much the whole ride over. I guess we didn't need to. Just being in our little hangout together was enough.

We pulled up to the store.

Johnny shifted in his seat, "Wait a second – didn't Charlie leave that chicken in the fridge?"

Oops. "Uh…yeah, he did." I turned to find a parking stall closer to the front entrance.

"Aw man, we coulda saved ourselves a whole trip! Now why didn't someone remember that earlier?"

"Dunno. Guess everybody forgot."

I pulled into a parking space, took the keys out and Johnny laid a hand on my arm, looking at me trying to hide my smile. "Why, you sly devil, you," he grinned. "Well, you know somebody's gonna remember. By the time we get back, it'll all be cooked and we still woulda made this trip for nothin'."

I felt a little bit crushed, at that.

Johnny:

I got out of the Squad and went to grab a cart. I could not believe my partner! I tell you, Roy's got a sly side but he doesn't show it very often. Trust him to come up with an excuse for us to be alone for a little while. Such a sly devil!

I grabbed an empty cart and looked around to find him so we could go in. He was walkin' kinda slow, like he was deep in thought or sad or somethin'.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?"

He looked up at me, lookin' real shy, "Even if the Engine crew remembers that chicken in the fridge, I still wouldn't have considered this a wasted trip."

Roy:

Puzzlement swept across his face and his mouth opened to say something. Then his confusion turned into a genuine Gage smile, "You know, you're right. So! Pardner o' mine!" he drummed on the cart handle. "What're you making?"

"I have no idea. Maybe there'll be a recipe on the side of the box."

"What box?"

"Whatever we come across."

We roamed the aisles together until Hamburger Helper™ jumped out at me and we both jumped at it.

Obviously, it would've gone faster and been more practical to divide the duties in gathering all the rest of the fixings for dinner, but we couldn't seem to be bothered to do that. We hung around the basket and kept brushing past each other to reach for something or to get around one another. I think we just relished the proximity of each other.

It was quick work to find the rest of the ingredients and, I have to say, for a meal that that was conjured up last minute out of a box, it was one of the best meals we'd had in a long time.

And I was hoping no one really noticed how close Johnny and I sat next to each other at the table.


Johnny:

We kept maneuvering around each other, watching each other, checking our accumulated scrapes and cuts that we inevitably get on the job. I even had to wonder if sometimes we were doin' it on purpose, just so that we could have the other one check us out. I mean, I wasn't aware of me doing stuff like that on purpose, but maybe something unconscious was going on that even I wasn't aware of.

I noticed, too, that Roy stopped flinching from me every time I checked the burns on his face. Of course, I tried to come up with an excuse to check them often. He is my partner, after all. I do have an obligation to keep an eye on him. If…you know what I mean.

Roy:

Things remained on the surface like that for several weeks, becoming pretty routine between us. I don't know what was going through his mind, but, I had to admit, deep down…I kind of enjoyed it, that physical camaraderie between us, for lack of calling it anything else.

It was hard to know what…this meant for us. Whether we'd be able to continue as partners or even as friends. I was afraid that at some point, one of us, for whatever reason, was going to want a change. And whatever that entailed, however that manifested, it was going to change our relationship in a way that maybe we weren't ready for, that we hadn't anticipated.

And then a call came in that left me reeling in its wake, not unlike the way that incident with Dunning had rattled Johnny…