TITLE: Third Watch, the Next Generation; Alex
AUTHOR: trista groulx
DISCLAIMER: kim, jimmy, alex (taylor), faith, bosco, carlos, holly, doc, ty, sully, emily, kylie, joey, charlie and anyone else who pops up from the TV series are not mine, they belong to NBC, their creator, and the actors and actresses who portray them. the idea for third watch is so not mine, but anyone who i've created for this story are mine so ask if you want to use them.
RATING: PG-13 for language (could change as the series progresses)
SUMMARY: a look at the next generation of thrid watchers, using both the kids from the show, and some that i made up. who are now old enough to follow in their respective parents footsteps.
AUTHORS NOTES: each story will be a vinigrette from a different charcter's POV, this one will be from Alex's you'll have to read on to find out who she is. the ages of each charcter will not nessacirly reflect the show because as you'll see Emily and Charlie will end up being about the same age as everyone else, which will not make sence. Joey's age will fit the show though.
WARNINGS: certain orginals will have died, and their deaths may be explained as i feel fit. there are potential spoilers up to the end of season five, so if you're not that far on TV then don't blame me i spoil something for you... please tell me what you think trista aka the dustytiger
When I arrived in New York, everywhere I looked made me think of my mother. Anywhere I went I wondered if she had been, seen or even had some kind of special memory attached to it. She talked a lot about how much she loved New York, and when I first came to the city I could not figure out why. It seemed so dirty, and overcrowded, but I soon began to see its charms. Especially after I started seeing the city as she had, whizzing by in my bus, ambulance, that is. I even applied at the same house as my mother, and got a position there! I could hardly believe that I was going to walk in my mother's footsteps. I still remember my first few days there, I never would have thought I would find so much of my mother's past when I first started work.
I walked into the house, which was a little run down, but if it was around since my mother's medic days, I could understand. There were two other people there, who I soon learned were named, Emily Yokas, who became my partner, and Carter Nieto, a firefighter, like my dad. My name, since I seemed to have forgotten that, is Alexandra Doherty, but everyone calls me Alex. My mother, Kim, had been medic until she moved after my father, Jimmy, got a promotion at a different stationhouse. He's now retired. My mother, on the other had died trying to do what she did best, helping a person who was hurt in an accident. I know that they named me after a woman who had also worked at the same firehouse, as both a medic, and a firefighter. I was told that she was great at both jobs, and was killed because she was trying to comfort a dying woman. There was no way to get her out of the car, and the always compassionate Alex kept close. The car blew up, and Alex Taylor was killed almost instantly.
So the story goes, as soon as my mother found out I was going to be a girl, she was going to name me after her fallen friend. I hoped that somehow while I worked at that firehouse, I would learn not only more about the woman I was named after, but also about who my parents were before they moved from New York. First we moved to Brooklyn, and when I was only three we all moved to Boston.
"So you must be Alex," said Emily. "My name is Emily, and you're going to be riding with me." "All right," I said, a little intimidated, she was very intense person and sounded pissed off at me. "Nice to meet you." I held my hand out.
She shook my hand almost crushing it with her grip. "I'll show you upstairs."
"Where's Leo Black, the guy that interviewed me?"
"He's on a call, he doesn't like to train, so he's leaving you up to me."
"I'm not exactly a rookie, I did work for two years in Boston."
She shook her head. "You're an NY virgin, girl, this is going to be nothing like Boston."
"I can handle it."
"We'll see." She started giving me the tour. "Over there is where the fire guys shower, not a place you'd really want to step foot in, it's pretty gross. This is our changing area, and your locker is here. Leo thinks this uniform should fit, but he's pretty bad with ladies sizing, so it might be big."
Emily then went downstairs, while I got changed. When I got down I realized why the one guy was sitting around while everyone else was gone, he had a cast on his foot.
"Em's in the, bus I wouldn't take long to catch up," he warned.
"Thanks."
"I'm Carter, by the way. Despite being an interim janitor, I'm usually a firefighter.."
"Is Emily, always so, friendly?"
"This is New York, Rookie, that's about as nice as the locals get!"
"Thanks, for the heads up!"
He seemed nice enough, too young to have known my parents though, I really hoped that I could find someone who had worked with them, or even knew of them. I ran out to the only running bus. Sure enough Emily was in there, getting everything ready for the day. I tried to help out, but she didn't seem to like what I was doing.
"Don't bother, till you know how I like things," she warned.
"So there's no room for compromise?" I asked.
"Maybe when you prove yourself."
"So am I going to be riding with you permanently?"
"If you don't know what the hell you're doing I really hope not!"
Funny how things work out, Emily and I sill ride together, a year later, and we've actually become friends. I did end up proving myself that first day out, it was a heavy day, even for New York Emily would tell me later, and I kept my head. She seemed surprised when she saw me back the next day.
"I thought you'd crack under the pressure, Doherty," she laughed, when I came in.
"Thanks," I said with mock enthusiasm.
An older guy who was sitting with Carter looked up. "Doherty?" he asked. "Any relation to Jimmy Doherty?"
I looked at him, puzzled. "How do you know my dad?"
Carter shook his head. "He's an old timer that used to work here. He sometimes comes back for nostalgia's sake."
"You worked with my parents?" I asked.
"Looking at you, closely now, I can see why you look so familiar. You look exactly like your mom," he said.
"Who are you?"
"Carlos Nieto."
"This isn't really a good time for a trip down memory lane," Emily reminded.
"I should get changed."
"How about I meet you back here, when you're off shift? I'll bring my wife, cause she worked here too, if you want to hear the stories we can all go out for coffee."
I smiled. "I'd love that, thank you."
"By the way, I'm sorry, I heard you mother died a few years ago, I tried to get down for the funeral, but it was impossible to get time off then."
"That means a lot, really. I'm Alex by the way." I shook his hand, and went upstairs.
I went through the day, almost giddy. I'm surprised I didn't make any mistakes, I was glad that Emily had not noticed my mood that day. I could hardly believe that when I got off I'd be able to talk to two people that actually knew my parents. I wondered if they also knew my namesake.
When I got back to the firehouse, Carlos was there as promised, with a blonde woman, who had a smile plastered on her face. It didn't even look fake, she just looked like the kind of person who always smiled.
"Hi! I'm Holly!" she said, putting out her hand.
"Hi," I said shaking her hand.
"So you said something about coffee?" I asked looking at Carlos.
"Yeah, there's a place a few blocks from here." We walked over, and went inside. "How long have you been in New York?"
They steered me toward a table. "I've only been here three weeks, it's so much different then I thought it would be."
"Do you like it here?"
"Yeah." I went to stand up to go to the counter.
"Don't worry, Sweetie, how do you take your coffee?" asked Holly.
"Um, I know this going to be strange, but just sweetener," I replied, she nodded and went to the counter, letting us stay where we were.
"That's how your mother took her coffee," Carlos commented.
"You remember that?" I asked.
"Only because I lost a bet once, and had to be her coffee boy for a month."
I laughed. "You must have had some great times."
"We did."
Holly came, and sat down next to him, she got one of the guys at the counter to bring my coffee over. "Thank you," I said, he gave me a funny look.
Holly laughed. "I told you I wasn't the only person in New York that still thanks people," she told her husband. She then looked at me. "You could be Kim's double, but you have Doherty's eyes."
"No one has ever told me that before," I replied.
"I bet that's because no ever really looked at of your eyes before."
"I guess."
"So are you named after Alex Taylor?" Carlos asked.
"Yeah, did you know her too?" I asked hopefully.
"We had a hate hate thing going on."
"Oh."
"Everyone else loved her though. We just got off on the wrong foot, I think. Besides, I was very immature when she died, I didn't grow up until later."
I nodded. "Mom told me some strange stories about you."
He laughed. "Not all bad I hope."
"I'm just glad she didn't take your advise on my name."
He grinned. "She had such a great sense of humor."
"Yeah, I miss her."
"How old were you when she passed?" asked Holly.
"I was twelve."
She nodded, then Carlos said, "So Joey would have been about twenty?"
"Yeah, he was going to take his firefighter's test before she died. Then he became a lawyer."
"That's a career change."
"The guy who hit Mom, got away."
He nodded. "How did she die? I've never really heard story."
"She was out shopping one day, after she dropped me off at school On her way to the mall she had seen a minor fender bender. She knew that the response times in the city were pretty shitty at the time, so she decided to just do a preliminary check on the victim. There was a baby, and his mother in the car. Both of them were fine, but the woman had hit her head. She wanted her to stay where she was until the paramedics arrived. The woman asked for her baby, so my mom took the baby his car seat, and gave him to her. She then decided to go make sure that the other driver had, in fact, called for help. As she was walking to her car, another car came by. He didn't slow for the three cars off to the side, and was hugging the line. He didn't swerve in time, and hit her straight on. She died instantly. Dad was the person that found her." I was sniffling by the end, as was Holy.
"You can take the woman out of the uniform, but her heart was still in it," Carlos mumbled.
"It was hard on all of us, Dad hasn't even dated since."
"And they say they can't teach an old dog new tricks," he said trying to lighten the mood. "So how did he got off?"
I shook my head. "The fire trucks got to the scene before the medics, but after the cops. Dad tried working on Mom but knew it was going to help, he was the first person to know that she was dead. The other guys tried working on her while he went to find the guy who had hit her. He punched him in the head as the cops were reading him his Miranda rights. When he came to he didn't remember being read them, and the cops didn't re-read them before questioning him. When it went to court it was his word against the cops, and they didn't believe Dad for a second, and the guy got off on a technicality. It got to Joey, and he decided his time would be better served helping the victims of tragedies in the court room rather then at the scene."
Carlos and Holly were not sure what to say. I decided I should lighten the mood, but had no idea what to say.
"Do you want to see a picture of my family?" I asked, pulling out my wallet.
"I would love to see that," Carlos answered.
I look through my wallet, and found the picture that my dad had insisted we take before I left for New York. In the slot facing that picture was the last family picture we took before Mom died.
"She hardly changed," he said, pointing a her picture. "You dad on the other hand." He said looking at the recent picture.
"He's still a very handsome man," Holly added.
"So they tell me. Everyone tells me that Joey acts almost exactly like Dad did when he was that age," I explained.
Although I had originally gone to learn more about my mother and father when they were working there, I just couldn't seem to think of anything to ask. What was I supposed to tell these people that knew my parents so well, but thought me a complete stranger; who happened to look exactly like a person they had known. I needed to know just one thing before I could go home.
"What was my mother like when she was working?" I asked.
"Exactly like you described her in the story you told us," Holly explained. "The best example I can give is her last day. She would have been pregnant with you. There was a bomb in one of the buildings, and she refused to go back in to help someone. When we got back she explained that she wasn't afraid to go into the building, but that she was pregnant."
"Your mother was fearless," Carlos interrupted. "If she thought she could help a person she would not leave even the most hopeless of situations, even when Lieu was ordering he out. I had seen it happen. It's like she didn't even realize the dangers around her, she just did what she had to do to save another life."
I smiled. "Wow."
"Back to my story," said Holly. "Later that day I had taken a little girl to the bathroom, as we were leaving your mother pushed us both back into the bathroom, almost taking a bullet from the gunmen. She didn't think about herself at all, all she cared about was that little girl, that was the kind of person she was."
I began to cry, Holly took my hand. "She was such a good person, why did she have to die?" I asked.
"Because," said Carlos. "Only the good die young."
I smiled at him, soon our coffees were finished and we went our own ways. I hoped that I would be able to talk to them again sometime about my mother, and my father. I hardly knew her, but after that story I wanted to hear more about what she was really like. I wasn't sure if I was really like her like my grandmother, and father always told me. There were days that I wished I could have just a few more minutes with her to tell her that I loved her, and ask if I really was doing a good job following in her footsteps.
The one big difference between us, of course, was that I didn't have the same self destructive nature with men. Probably because she instilled in me not to accept that kind of behaviour from any man, even if from her shinning example it did work out in the very long run.
Another story I always liked to think about was one that happened when I was in New York about a month. That was the fist night I really felt accepted by my peers. It was also the real start to my friendship with Emily. It had been a really bad day, and everyone had agreed to go out to a local pub after work. There had been a huge fire, and very few survivors. We, at the firehouse, were in need of a wind down because we felt that we had failed, even though, logically we knew there really wasn't much we could do. The people at the station house needed to go out because they had had the lovely job of controlling the crowd. A task at which, I later learned, was hard because you wanted to make more victims by shooting people who refused to listen to multiple requests to stay far back.
I remembered, that a news reporter was actually trying to interview me as I was working on a patient, who died in hospital later that day. I always found death hardest to accept when they made it all the way to the hospital, only to die in a bed, alone. A police officer, who introduced himself as Davis, helped save me by getting the reporter away from me so I could work. I was really hoping to talk to him that night. I could tell by the little that I saw of him that he was someone I would love to get to know under better circumstances.
I was sitting at the table, having a coffee when Emily sat down next to me.
"You know what? You did damn good job out there today," she told me.
"Thanks, you were pretty good out there yourself," I smiled.
"Really, Alex I under estimated you, and I'm sorry. You're good at what you do, I think you may even be better at it then me."
I shook my head. "Let's not try to play this game, all right. We both know our shit, and we're both great in our own ways." Emily smiled. "I like the way you think."
"Maybe we could even be friends?"
"Probably. Look a bunch of us are getting together after work to get our minds off today. I don't really drink, so I can drive you over, and home later if you'd like."
"Thank you for the invite, I really needed something like that, and I think I'll take you up on the drive there, because I still have no clue about this city."
She laughed. "I never realized how hard this city was to navigate, I guess it's because I've always been here."
I nodded. "And that is why you drive, you know this place better then I ever could."
"I'm ready when you are all right?"
I took the last sip of my coffee. "I'm pretty much ready."
"Not going to change?"
I was wearing a tank top under my sweater, and a pair of ratty looking jeans. Emily knew I had a pair of dressier clothes hanging in my locker, which I kept just in case I wanted not to look like a grub after my shift.
"I showered, I figure that's enough. I'm not really trying to impress anyone."
"Whatever, I saw a look between you and Davis!"
"I was glad he got that damn reporter out of my face." I laughed
I followed her to her car, and sat down in the passenger's seat.
"So did you have a boyfriend back in Boston?" she asked me.
It was nice to finally girl talk. "We broke up six months before I left," I replied.
"No kids right?"
"No, but you said you had a daughter right?"
"You remember that?"
I nodded. "Sometimes I listen."
She smiled. "She's two, her name is Angela. Her father is a cop at the station house. His name is Dylan. We have a strange relationship."
"Sounds complicated."
"I think I make it that way. It's nice to be able to be honest with someone about it though. My mother would slap me silly if ever told her I still have trysts with my ex."
I shook my head. "My mom used to do the same thing with my brother's father." I didn't want to tell her that I had the same father, and that it had worked between them.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one! Well here we are."
We got out of the car, and went into the pub. When we got there a few of the cops were already there, and we were the first people from the firehouse there. It looked like everyone was already drinking. Emily leaned over to me.
"That's him, the one next to Davis. Try to keep me away from him, if you can," she told me.
"I'll try," I told her.
I couldn't take my eyes of him, Davis, he was one of very few people who looked better out of his uniform. I decided, since the seat next to him was empty, to sit there. There was also another woman there, who was on the opposite side of the table.
"So, you're the rookie?" she asked breaking her silence.
"I guess so, the name is Alex." I replied, putting my hand out.
"Kylie, good to meet you. From what I could see from crowd control you did good out there!" she said, shaking my hand. "You dealt with that bitch reporter pretty well too."
"Davis, that's your name right?" I asked, he nodded. "Davis here." I patted his chest. "Helped me a little on that front."
"Davis, always the knight in shinning armour." She laughed taking a sip of her beer.
He laughed. "You can call me Tyrone, Alex."
"Nice to meet you under better circumstances, Tyrone." I smiled.
Carter and some of the firefighters walked in, and joined us. I had ordered a beer, glad to feel like I was with friends drinking again. In Boston we had made it a point to go out every Friday night, when you weren't on the schedule, and I was starting to think New Yorkers had something against it.
As the night progressed, I wondered if I really wanted to be in such a large group. When it seemed clear that I was not the only one who wanted to be in a party of two. Tyrone and I had moved off to the side, and were making small talk, only occasionally looking up to the rest of the table to laugh at a joke.
I did notice that Emily was all over the cop she had told me to keep her away from. I tried giving her one of those don't do it looks, but she ignored me. All of a sudden Emily got up and headed toward me. She grabbed my arm, and made me follow her into the washroom.
"What the hell?" I asked.
"Careful with cops, they're heartbreakers," she warned.
"You can't put them all in the same category. Besides, I learned from my mother not to put up with any bullshit."
"I guess, not but be careful."
"I think you're the one who needs to be careful. I thought he was your ex?"
She shrugged. "He is, and he's my daughter's father too. I know that it's wrong, but I just know that if he asks, I'll drive him home."
"Just drive him home. Pick up your daughter to remind you that you don't need him to love you, because she always will."
"Maybe I'll try that."
"Just don't do anything stupid."
She hit her head against a stall wall. "I wish I could promise you that."
"Even if you do, if you need an ear tomorrow, I'll be here."
She half smiled. "Thanks, you're being so nice to me, when all I've been was horrible to me."
"It's not my nature to be horrible to people when I don't really know them. And once you drop your shield you're not a terrible person."
Emily smiled. "Thanks."
"So, do you think it's a little pretentious of me to ask Tyrone for coffee?"
"Not at all, he's only looking at you. May as well see if you can get to know him without a group."
I smiled. "I needed to hear that."
We went back to the table. I sat down next to Tyrone again. We started laughing and joking again immediately, almost ignoring the other people around us.
"You know what?" I asked.
"How would I know if you don't tell me?" he queried.
I laughed. "Neither of us have had a drink in the last two hours, and we don't seem to want to talk to anyone else."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Would you like to go for coffee somewhere where we can talk?"
He nodded. "I like that idea."
We said our goodbyes to everyone, and all the guys made the universal have fun getting laid sign at him. He shook his head, and we left the pub. We walked into the parking lot, and he lead me to his car.
"To be honest," he said. "I haven't had anything to drink tonight. If you want we can take my car to anywhere you'd like." I laughed. "I don't know New York."
"You ride with Emily Yokas, the ultimate New Yorker, and you still haven't learned the about the best places in NYC?" I laughed. "Somehow no. But to be honest I'm more comfortable at home."
"Not to sound like I want more, but if you're comfortable there, the coffee's cheaper." I laughed. "I know how to defend myself, if it comes to that."
I had no idea where I was, so I told him where I lived, and he got me there in a way I had never seen before. We got out of the car, and made our way up to my third floor apartment. It was a walk up, in a pretty old building, but it was well taken care of, and the whole inside had been redone in the last five years, so it looked much better on the inside. I almost drove right past it when I saw it, and was glad I hadn't.
"This is a nice place," he commented, as I let him in.
"And this is my little home," I said, he followed me in. "Sit, make yourself comfortable, I'll put on the coffee."
I went into the kitchen, and started the coffee maker. I then returned to the living room, and sat next to him, and we began talking.
"So, why don't you go by Tyrone?" I asked.
"Because, I am Tyrone Davis the third. My dad already swiped up the name Ty, and Junior is only cute when you're under the age of, let's say, eight. I decided it was just as easy to either go by my last name, with the guys, and go for the full name everywhere else."
I nodded. "That makes perfect sense then."
"So what made you want to become a paramedic?"
I shrugged. "My dad was a firefighter, my mother was a medic, I guess they passed the torch through my genes. I don't remember a time where I didn't want to be in protective services. I even wanted to be a cop for a while. But I decided I liked the idea of saving people. I have a strange fear of fire, so it kind of ruled out being a firefighter."
He laughed. "A firefighter's daughter, afraid of fire, any reason?"
"Not really, I used to have nightmares about being trapped in burning buildings though, and I think those dreams may have scared me just enough to know that I never wanted to be in a burning building knowing there was now way out."
"That must have been scary for you, but you were never involved in a fire?"
"Not since I left the womb. So why did you want to be cop?"
"Like, you think it runs in my blood. I hardly remember wanting to be anything else but a policeman. My dad was a policeman, my granddad was a policeman. I knew that I wanted to serve just like them. My granddad was killed in the line, so my father tells me. My dad made leaps and bounds as an African American officer. He earned everything he ever got in his career, which is saying a lot for any cop, let alone one of a minority. He could have taken favors, but he got to sergeant honestly. Making his whole family proud, and I've always wanted to make him proud."
I smiled. "That's a better story then mine."
He laughed. "What was it like having a firefighter dad, and a paramedic mother?"
"My mother retired just after she found out she was pregnant with me. She wanted to be a fireman's wife. The times I'm able to remember my dad was more of a leader of the squads, telling the guys what to do, more then running into burning buildings. So I really don't know what it's like to know that my parents were putting themselves in very dangerous situations in hopes of helping others."
He nodded. "I didn't even really understand what my dad did all those years until I got onto the field myself. I mean I knew that he was out there everyday, but always thought that he just gave out tickets and stuff. I didn't realize how much danger he was actually in, which I guess is a good thing when you're a kid."
"Yeah, usually, it's better to not know just how bad the world can be."
"How old were you when you realized just how bad the world could be?"
"Thirteen."
"That was quick. What happened?"
"That's how old I was when I found out that the man that killed my mother would not actually ever serve any time in jail."
"How did she die?"
"She was hit by a car."
I proceeded to tell him the story that I had told so many people so many times. He was different then a lot of people, he actually seemed to be paying attention even though he never knew her, and hardly knew me. By the time I was done with the story about my mother our coffee was completely forgotten about.
"So, why did your parents call you Alex?" he asked, trying to ask a lighter question.
"They named me after a firefighter they had worked with, in New York. She was killed in the line, and they both wanted to preserve a little piece of her. So they named me after her. And you were just named after your dad. I've never really got that."
"Me either, but I'd feel strange NOT naming my son after me. Like I was breaking something."
I laughed. "I guess so, strange, how some traditions feel more like duties."
He laughed. "Yeah, do you think being a medic was a duty?"
"No, that's something that you really have to choose for yourself."
He nodded. We talked about everything, and nothing for a few hours. Forgetting all about the coffee, which was now cold. We were just having too much funny getting to know each other.
"What would you do if I kissed you right now?" he asked all of a sudden.
"Try it, and find out," I replied, assuringly.
He leaned over a kissed me gently. For a moment our lips were frozen, but soon we tentatively explored, and he even slipped his tongue inside my mouth gently. I didn't even notice at first. But I knew he was a good kisser. We kissed for a long moment, then pulsed away. We then talked bout our lost loves, and both fell asleep on my couch. During the night we moved, and ended up spooning somewhat comfortably, under a throw blanket I had on the back of the couch.
End notes: up next, a part from Emily's POV. I really hope you like what I'm trying to do here, and that everything all made sense. i am a dilogue person, and i suck at the action scence. The idea just wouldn't stop pestering me till my fingers were typing it out, and once i started the muse was very nice. So please tell me what you think