Chapter 4

The rest of the afternoon was busy, with four runs back to back for the squad. Luckily they had all been minor, with only two medical transports to Rampart. The heart attack victim had turned out to be a minor case of heartburn, while the two transports had been a teenager with a broken arm and a woman with a severe allergic reaction to a bee sting. After assisting on the "heart attack" run, the engine had responded to a gas leak at a gas station, and a minor fender bender on a surface road.

Backing the squad in, Roy swore he could smell the aroma of Marco's dinner wafting through the air. Something definitely spicy and Mexican in origin, he surmised, stretching his way out of the squad and trudging towards the kitchen. He could hear John behind him, maybe a little slower than the usual galloping pace he seemed to have, but definitely following the tantalizing odor. The men moved through the doorway and into the room, last ones in but clearly in time for the late dinner.

Marco seemed pleased that the paramedic team was there and handed each of them a plate as they pulled up chairs and settled down wearily to the table. A tray of red coated enchiladas presided over the center of the table, with a bowl of steaming rice nestled in beside it. A milk carton was circling around the table, as well as the ever present coffee pot.

There was complete silence as the men dished out the food and poured the drinks. The clatter of metal silverware dominated the room for several minutes before it was replaced by sighs of bliss and hearty congratulations to the chef of the day.

"Great food, Lopez! You sure one of your family didn't sneak this in when we were out on the runs?" The captain queried the lineman, reaching for a second helping of the rice.

Marco shook his head. "Nah, mama likes to make sure we all have at least basic skills in the kitchen. The recipe is from mi abuela – I'm going to have her cook something up for you guys – you won't believe her food!"

There were murmurs of assent as even the normally reserved Mike Stoker added his comments to the mix. Heads down, forks moving in rapid motions, none of the men noticed that the youngest man on their crew had only put a spoonful of rice on his plate and had only managed one bite of it, before getting up and scraping the contents of his plate in the trash. John rinsed his plate and set it on the counter by his silverware; he contemplated his unused milk glass for a moment before putting it back in the cupboard. Coffee cup in hand, he moved out of the room after slapping the cook on the shoulder.

Chet Kelly finally looked up from his emptied plate and looked over at Roy. "Geesh, DeSoto, how can he eat that fast? And where does he put it all? If he stands sideways, you can't even see the guy!"

Smiling, Roy let out a satisfied groan and pushed back an inch from the table. "I think Johnny burns it off as fast as he inhales it, Chet. There's been a couple of rescues since we've been partners where I've lost ten pounds just watching him in action!"

Dick Hammer looked over at his paramedic, contently laying down his own silverware on his empty plate. "He lose that headache, DeSoto?"

Roy paused in his motions to get up from his chair. He rubbed his neck in thought, mentally tracking backwards through the four runs. He realized he hadn't given his partner's headache a second thought after leaving the station for the first run. The paramedic team was still getting used to working together, especially on the medical calls that were new to everyone. But thinking back on it, Roy realized that his partner had stayed in the background on all four calls, handling the biophone and hanging back from the victims, while also letting Roy ride in the ambulance on the two transports. Even at the hospital, the normally gregarious Gage had simply waited for his partner outside by the exit doors.

"Not really sure…I'll go find out," he finally replied, getting to his feet and taking care of his dishes. Not seeing John in the locker room, he went through the door and into the dorm, where he saw his partner stretched out flat on his bed.

Dark hair still damp from a fast shower, Gage was in long johns and a clean t-shirt. His bunker pants, stuffed into his boots, were already in place by the side of his bed; his arms were crossed behind his head and his eyes closed. Feeling Roy's presence, he opened his eyes and looked questioningly at his partner. Roy sat down on his own bed and leaned back with a contented, stomach full sigh.

"I think Lopez is going to be the hands on favorite cook on A shift, although we may all gain a few pounds after a few meals of food like that…" John merely grunted his assent and closed his eyes again. Roy tried again.

"Cap wanted to know how you were feeling, still got that headache?"

Gage coughed slightly and finally answered in a soft tone, "still there, but not as bad."

Roy moved to his feet and looked down at his partner. "Did you get checked out after that hose slapped you around? You sure you didn't get a concussion?"

"Yes, I got checked out, at the hospital, and by the big man himself," he replied in annoyance, an expression of distaste flitting briefly across his face. He was still uneasy, and slightly distrustful of Dr. Kelly Brackett. Even though the good doctor had reversed his opinion on the paramedic program and had stood up for it when it counted the most, Gage still didn't feel comfortable around him. If he hadn't been so sore and tired on that overtime shift, he would have probably got into another confrontation with Brackett during his exam. The doctor had been almost rude and definitely condescending in some of his questions and comments to the exhausted fireman; John had wisely kept his thoughts to himself and answered in monosyllables only when he had to.

"Really, Roy, just let me get some rest, kay?" Gage dismissed his partner's attentions by pulling up his legs and sliding under the sheet and blanket and rolling onto his side. He slid further under the covers until only the top of his head was visible and curled into a tight ball.

"Yeah, yeah that does sound like a good idea. Maybe I'll do the same…early night for once….." Roy turned sharply on his heel and left the dorm, seeking out Captain Hammer to fill him in; he then took a shower hoping for some relief from the heat that seemed to be still wafting through the station, even though the sun had set several hours before.

In his bunker pants and clean shirt, suspenders hanging down, Roy poked his head into the day room to see what the rest of the crew was up to. The engine crew was gathered around the tv against the far wall; judging by the campy horror show that was playing, Chet must have gained control of the channel. A bowl of popcorn was making its way back towards Stoker, who was sitting in the chair closest to Roy. Roy stepped into the room and swiped the bowl from Mike's hands before it started back the other way, and helped himself to a handful of the buttered, salted snack. Mike shot him a look, but accepted the bowl back and passed it back down the other way.

Roy had enough time to down his popcorn when a crack of thunder startled all of the men in the room. Twenty seconds later the sound of rain hitting the roof brought smiles and exclamations out of the firemen, who as a group temporarily abandoned the movie and made their way to the back door.

"There goes the heat wave!" Chet exclaimed, relief in his voice. He scurried back to the television as the other four looked at each other, not voicing what they were also thinking…..here goes the stupid accidents!

Thirty minutes passed before Roy decided he had seen enough of the movie; he really didn't want thoughts of mutant grasshoppers invading his sleep. He trudged his way into the dorm, leaving the lights off and finding his way to his bed by the occasional flares of lightning. Judging by his partner's slow, even breathing, he had finally succumbed to sleep. Roy yawned and stepped out of his turnouts, sliding under the sheet but pushing the blanket to the bottom of his bunk. Hopefully he could catch some sleep before the calls started rolling in.

His partner HAD finally fell asleep thirty minutes before the storm hit, but the thunder had woken him up, leaving him slightly disoriented and groggy. He listened to DeSoto settle himself, before stretching himself out and sitting up. The klaxons sounded and the light went on; the paramedics immediately stepped into their pants and boots and moved toward the bay. The call was for the engine only and Roy turned back to his bunk, while John headed for the kitchen.

Scrounging through the cupboards, he found a sleeve of saltine crackers and then filled a glass with water. Nibbling and sipping, he opened the back door and stood in the doorway contemplating the falling rain. He shivered as the damp air brushed across his flushed skin, and instinctively laid the back of his hand across his forehead.

"Gotta be the flu," he muttered in disgust, feeling the heat. Closing the door, he dumped the remains of his water in the sink and tossed the crackers into a glass canister on the counter. Going out into the bay, he debated about digging through the equipment and pulling out the thermometer, but decided against it. He moved into the locker room, opened his locker, and shrugged on his navy blue jacket. He pulled out the aspirin bottle and shaking three into his hand, he tossed the bottle back in and closed the door softly. This time he chased the pills down with a handful of water from the sink.

Returning to the dorm, he slid out of the turnouts and slipped back under the covers, pulling them up to his chin. Fingers laced together and arms behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling and thought about that day's runs. The tree rescue brought a brief smile as he mused about the stoic kids and their frantic parent. It was great seeing his friend Drew again, it had been awhile since the men had hung out together and John resolved to give him a call and see if they could coordinate their schedules. Roy had definitely been right about that safety belt though; John felt like every muscle in his body was on fire.

A scowl crossed his face as he mentally backed up to that first call of the day. Captain Hammer had pulled both paramedics aside between the later runs and had given them some information. It seemed that the victim in the car had been on his way to his daughter's wedding; the boulder had come off a truck in front of the car and crashed through the windshield. Gage swallowed hard, trying to force down the bile rising in his throat, as he desperately tried to block out the unwanted images that replayed themselves over and over again in his mind.

Thankfully, he was distracted by the sound of the garage door going up. Seconds later the klaxons sounded and the lights came on, summoning the station to a vehicle over the road in Topanga Canyon. John went to the radio and responded to the transmission, writing down the address and pulling up his suspenders over his jacket simultaneously. Looking out the bay door, he could see the steady downpour of rain outside; he grabbed his turnout coat, seeing his partner do the same, and trotted to the engine door. He handed the dark haired engineer, waiting patiently in the rumbling engine, the call slip and jumped into the cab of the squad, grabbing his helmet and strapping it on as Roy followed the Crown Firecoach out the door.


Thanks for all the reviews - since this is my first story it helps to have input. The boulder accident really happened here in my home town years ago; he was on his way to his daughter's wedding. To the guest who asked if this story is leading into slash - nope! Didn't even know what that meant until I started reading fan fiction back in July!