Chapter 9
Mike Stoker strolled into the day room, following the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He peered into the full pot on the top of the range and grabbed for a clean mug sitting in the drainer. Once the ceramic cup hit his lips, he turned and searched for the creator of the fragrant brew.
He didn't have far to look, as Gage was standing in the doorway of the opened, aqua colored door that led out into the side driveway. He was slumped lazily against the windowed portal, one leg bent at the knee and foot flat against the door. He was staring fixedly outside, his eyes focused on something that Stoker couldn't see. Not that there was much to look at, Mike thought as he moved over to Johnny's side, unless he was looking at the traffic streaming down the road or the beautiful sight of the refinery sprawled across the street.
Or maybe it was the rain, which was pouring down just as hard, or probably harder, then it had last night. Mike leaned over Gage to look in the same direction, causing the other man to jump slightly. The engineer raised a hand in apology as whatever liquid that was in the cup Johnny was holding tight against his chest slopped over and trickled down his blue jacket.
"Sorry," Stoker muttered, swiping a hand instinctively at the spreading stain. He jerked back his hand, surprised at the heat emanating from the jacket. "Just out of the dryer?"
John finally looked at the apologetic engineer, his lips twitching in a small smile. "Yeah."
"What were you looking at?"
Johnny shrugged, raising his other hand to join the other one cradling the cup. His voice was raspy when he replied. "Birds, I guess. Goofing around on the top of the wall; they don't seem to care about the rain."
Mike turned back around to look towards the wall again, but the birds had apparently had enough and had beaten a hasty retreat towards shelter. He ducked back into the room and watched Gage a moment, marveling at how colorful his bruises had become. He touched the side of his own face and then pointed at the younger man.
"Got a rainbow going on there?"
Gage raised a hand towards the purple and blue hued collage of colors decorating his skin, then dropped the questing hand and straightened up. He winced, moved the hand around to his side, and rubbed it. "Yeah, but it's the sore muscles that are bugging me."
He pulled away from the door and closed it behind him, effectively silencing most of the noise of the torrential downpour, and followed Mike over to the table. Mike dropped into a chair and watched as John set his mug down on the table and poked a finger into the toast crusts that were sitting on a plate. His eyes tracked Johnny's stiff gaited walk to the trash can to dump his breakfast remains and then followed his progress to the sink to drop the plate off; Gage seemed unaware of Mike's continued scrutiny as he slowly trekked past the table and over to the doorway leading to the apparatus bay. The dark haired man turned and looked back at him, hand still rubbing at his side.
"If the shower is free, I'm gonna go drown myself in hot water."
To Mike it seemed that Gage was trying to hold back a racking cough; maybe the shower would loosen up his lungs a bit. He nodded in acknowledgement, sipping at his coffee. He heard voices in the bay and seconds later Roy appeared in the newly vacated doorway, an amused expression on his face. He nodded at Mike and made a beeline to the coffee pot, lured by the smell like a fish to bait. It wasn't until he had his first sip that he turned back around and faced the engineer. Mike smiled when Roy closed his eyes briefly to savor the first swallow.
"Good coffee, Mike," Roy praised, pulling out a chair and sliding into it.
Shaking his head, Stoker set his now empty mug down. "Didn't make it."
"Johnny?" Roy questioned, glancing quizzically towards the empty doorway.
"Yep," the engineer answered in his usual, economical way. He started to pick his cup up again, remembered it was empty, and placed it gently back down. He contemplated his next words, not quite sure of the dynamics between the new paramedic team. "Do you think Gage looks a little worse than he did yesterday?"
DeSoto shrugged. "He's going to get more colorful, and then it will all fade away." He glanced up at Stoker and realized he was waiting for more. "He's tired, sore, and probably a little sick…"
Roy wasn't about to elaborate any farther on just exactly how sick Gage had been earlier that morning when he had discovered him in the rec room. He was more concerned about how he was doing now; except for the hoarse voice, he was sure that Johnny had seemed better when he had passed him in the bay. Although he supposed that the several words that they had exchanged weren't really an indicator of anyone's health, good or bad, he felt that Johnny's demeanor was indicative of the flu taking its leave. Yeah, his partner was going to be sore for quite a while from his tangle with the pressurized hose, but the twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep that was in sight would hopefully eradicate his partner's exhaustion, aches, AND the last remnants of the 24 hour bug. He was just thankful that their early morning nap had passed in silence, with no interruptions pulling them from their much needed rest.
His own sleep had been short and dreamless and the wake up tones had jolted him rudely awake. Come to think of it, though, Johnny had been nowhere in sight when he had dragged himself up out of the tangled bedding, almost falling out of the bunk in his attempt to disentangle himself from the cocoon. In fact, his partner's bed was already stripped to the mattress and indicated that he had been up before the wakeup call.
"He just seems a little, I don't know, not his usual self?" Mike plowed on uncertainly, not sure himself what seemed to be wrong with Gage, and definitely not able to put it into words. Maybe it was just the memory of that glimpse of John throwing up on the freeway yesterday that was playing with his mind; sitting high up in his perch in the Crown he had had a bird's eye view of the whole accident scene and was pretty sure he was the only one of the engine crew that had witnessed Gage's reflexive response - or maybe to the other man it had been a second of weakness or a moment of embarrassment? He wasn't sure whether it was Johnny reacting from what he had witnessed through the windshield or possibly he was just simply coming down with the flu that was spreading around. He knew John was an experienced rescue man and firefighter, but there were always going to be scenarios that pushed even the most seasoned fireman to his limit; Mike knew that from personal experience. But then again, the illness scenario would make sense, especially considering the comment from Roy about his partner being "a little sick" and Mike's own take on John's slightly off manner. It wasn't as if he really knew the dark haired paramedic that well, either professionally or personally, to form a judgement on the questions swirling through his brain, but …. Sometimes, he just went on instinct, and this was one of those times. He liked to think that he was an intuitive man; his wife told him that he often made judgements or acted quickly because he spent a lot of time observing others. Maybe so, but either way he had an odd feeling that something was bothering the young man, and while DeSoto's comment about Gage's physical well-being was dead on, Mike had a hunch that there was more to it.
He watched Roy casually lean back in his chair, his watchful eyes not missing the brief flash of worry that flickered across DeSoto's usually stoic countenance. So good, he wasn't the only one noticing the uneasiness wrapped around John like a smothering fog. There must be something going on, at least something enough for DeSoto to be concerned about. So possibly the new partners were clicking together pretty good if the senior paramedic had noticed and was mulling it over; they might just prove to be a well matched team. Mike smiled as an image of a steam fire engine being pulled along in perfect sync by a pair of matching draft horses flashed through his mind. Not quite the comparison that he had envisioned, but hey, he was an engineer after all, and it wasn't like the new medic team would ever realize that he was mentally comparing them to a team of horses. Even if they knew what he was thinking, they should be flattered that he was equating them to those loyal, steadfast, hardworking animals. In Mike's opinion, those four-hooved steeds were heroes in the employ of the fire service and ranked on the same level as their two footed counterparts.
Mike pulled his attention back to the man in front of him, who seemed to be regarding quite seriously the question that he had thrown at him. From what he had noticed with Roy, he kept his emotions firmly in check and seemed to hold himself slightly away from everyone else. He was friendly, yes, but it seemed that sometimes he held himself back and dangled uncertainly on the perimeter of their little group. At times he was hard to read, which was why it had taken Mike so long to realize that DeSoto had a sarcastic wit; he had noticed it on several occasions.
Now whether any of the other guys had caught onto that sly humor yet remained to be seen. Marco definitely had not, but only because he seemed to think the best of everyone and put a positive spin on everything and everybody. He would take Roy's words at face value and just move on. Of all the men on their shift, Lopez appeared to be the most laid back. And shaping up to be a terrific cook, as well. Chet, well, if he could close his mouth long enough to really listen to someone else - he would most assuredly recognize the subtle barbs that Roy cast out. Or, maybe that was it, DeSoto was too understated for Kelly to catch on to. Mike had a feeling that, for now, Chester B. was keeping himself tightly coiled before he started on a reign of his own devious word assaults and physical pranks. To the engineer, it seemed like Kelly was studying each man on the shift, excluding their captain of course, and contemplating their weaknesses and reactions. When he believed the time was right, he was going to strike his unsuspecting victim.
As for John, that was another story altogether. Stoker couldn't seem to categorize him anywhere. He appeared at times to be both gullible AND street savvy, could someone possibly be both? Gage had been the target of his new partner's biting wordplay at least once that Mike had been privy too; the youngest member of their crew had simply let the words slide over him and continued on without pause, almost as if he was well aware of the crafty undertones of Roy's comment but chose to ignore it. Whereas the one time Chet had tentatively coiled out his own sharp tongued barb at something John had said or done, Gage had reacted instantly with an angry retort of his own and turned a cold shoulder on the Irish lineman for the rest of the shift. So possibly Gage was choosing his battles, and was aligning himself with DeSoto. Since the two had to spend so much of their working time paired up, it was a wise decision on Johnny's part.
So maybe Roy was sometimes stingy with his words and also a little backhanded with them on occasion; he was a darn good fireman, though, and looked to be even a better paramedic. Must be comfortable working with "A" shift already, because Mike was sure that the jesting did not make an appearance when Roy was advocating for the paramedic program. Obviously Roy could also be loquacious and persuasive; one of the results of that had just exited the room. DeSoto was good with the victims too, something Mike was glad he didn't have to deal with, at least not yet. In the future, for sure, but for the moment he was enjoying the mechanics of the gauges, the feel of the power beneath his hands on the oversized wheel. He was doing exactly what he had worked for and dreamed of; having this exceptional group of men, also doing a job that they enjoyed, alongside of him was an unexpected but very welcome bonus.
Definitely going to be an interesting mix of personalities and interests on this shift; Mike just hoped that if any conflicts or problems arose that they wouldn't leech into their responses. He doubted it though, because when those tones went off every man there responded with professionalism and were proving that they could work together well. He really did have a good feeling about these guys…..
"What exactly is Johnny's normal self?" Roy finally quipped back, shaking Mike out of his speculations and astonishing him with the unexpected and mostly unanswerable question, at least for now. Now it was Mike's turn to squirm uncomfortably under Roy's scrutiny; even though he knew DeSoto was only messing with him, he felt that there was an undercurrent of seriousness lurking under the other man's jesting words. It seemed that Roy's hackles were rising, whether in defense of his partner or some other reason, he wasn't sure.
Seeing Mike's steady gaze on him, Roy gave another halfhearted shrug and stood up. He motioned towards Stoker's empty mug and picked it up when Mike nodded. He looked into the third cup that remained in solitude and picked it up as well, recognizing the liquid that remained as tea. Must have been Gage's drink of choice; he wondered what Mike had noticed about Gage that had him asking questions. He really couldn't believe that Stoker already had a handle on John this early in their working relationship. How was that possible, when he himself had just barely scratched the surface of his apparently many layered partner? That brief exchange of words when he had returned from Rampart this morning had left Roy baffled, when he got to thinking about it, after taking his delayed shower just minutes earlier. While speeding through his two minute shower, he had been contemplating the logistics of the barbecue and whether or not he and Jo could pull it together for the upcoming weekend. Well, mostly whether Jo could and would, if he was being honest. After the shower he had been sitting on the bench pulling on socks and shoes, and the barbecue musings had shifted to the early morning talk with his new partner.
So the little, spontaneous conversation hadn't revealed too much about his new colleague, what was the big deal? He knew John Gage was single, had been with the county for almost four years, and had a reputation for being dependable, loyal, and a good firefighter. He seemed to have a lot of friends within the fire service and surprisingly, quite a few within the sheriffs' department also. Roy was pretty sure all that information was common knowledge; it was Gage's heritage and where he had grown up that had been surprising, at least to Roy. Yet, while those grudgingly held out bits of information had been welcomed and absorbed, Roy realized it had been Johnny's expressions and tone of voice that had him puzzled. He had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that Stoker was right, something was gnawing at Johnny.
So perhaps in the little time remaining within the shift, he could attempt to draw it out of his fellow medic. See if they had reached the point yet where their often aimless chatter might progress into something a little more meaningful or personal. Roy found that thought oddly comforting, that he might actually hold an adult conversation with someone close to his own age. Excluding his wife, of course, it seemed that the last five or so years had solely consisted of exchanged pleasantries with his fellow workers, as well as one sided communication with two very small children that didn't exactly contain any two plus syllable words.
Back still to the engineer, Roy smirked and decided that he was thinking like an adolescent. Hoping to forge a friendship with someone, anyone, as long as he had another human being to talk to and confide in. "But what if they don't like me, Mom?" He mouthed silently, gently setting the tea mug in the sink.
Ok, so it had been awhile since he'd touched base with any of his friends from school or his Uncle Sam mandated time in the service. His face settled in a mask of pensive thought as he realized this and also came to the sad conclusion that he really hadn't even attempted forge any new friendships since he had joined the department and gotten married. Focusing on his new wife and hopefully life time career had taken up most of his time; once the kids had started arriving the thought had definitely never ended his mind. He shook his head, this time letting a genuine smile replace the smirk. Well, if things worked out okay, hopefully he would be at this station for a while and could work on his people connections.
He refilled the other two cups with coffee, leaving just enough in the pot for another cup. Maybe Cap would get that before the two linemen made their appearance in the kitchen. He returned to the table and set the mugs down. He flushed slightly, feeling the engineer's eyes still on him. A flash of irritation surged through him at the scrutiny that Mike seemed to be bestowing on him; just as quickly it dissolved as Roy realized that was how Mike looked at everybody. He always seemed to contemplating the person he was looking at, or maybe it was simply that he was miles away, thinking of other places and people. Roy eased himself down onto a chair and pushed Stoker's mug towards him, hoping it would distract the other man away from his preoccupation with Johnny.
"Couldn't tell you….." Mike finally answered hesitantly, about DeSoto's half in jest question; he ran a finger along the rim of the coffee cup. "My wife says I'm kinda observant about people, and ah, things, you know. Maybe, maybe not….."
Roy smiled, feeling an almost instant solidarity with the other man, along with the chance to sway the conversation into another, much needed direction. Here he was on solid ground, or at least standing on a surface that wasn't swaying wildly under his feet. Then again, maybe that wasn't quite true. Being married, he could truthfully admit to himself, was sometimes equivalent to being on one of those twirling, swirling rides at a carnival. Up, down, and all around in dizzying directions seemed to be an accurate summary, with long periods of gentle, smooth, kiddie boat ride woven loosely through it. "Wives are kinda like that, Stoker. And I've learned, mostly the hard way that they are usua.., uh, ALWAYS right, if you know what I mean. How long have you been married?"
"As long as I've been an engineer, about six months now." Mike gazed at him over the rim of his cup, giving Roy the feeling that he was indeed very observant, eerily so as Roy felt a shiver trickle down his spine. Must have watched too many of those Star Trek episodes where Spock did the mind meld thing, Roy concluded, shaking his head slightly. Now if Stoker raised his hand up and spread those fingers apart, and uttered "live long and prosper", he knew the speed of light would be obtained in this firehouse by his own blazing feet.
"Not enough sleep," DeSoto muttered under his breath, remembering only too vividly his earlier thoughts concerning his partner and that blasted blanket. He looked over towards the stacked ovens, realizing that fragrant aroma of coffee wasn't the only thing that he smelled. "Someone cooking breakfast in the oven?"
"Must be Marco, I think he threw together some sort of breakfast casserole last night."
Roy rose to his feet and moved to the oven, peering through the window of the top left oven. There was definitely something baking in there, with a lot of cheese bubbling on the top. He had his hand on the handle, ready to check further, when the cook breezed into the kitchen.
"Hands off, Roy!" Marco instructed, grabbing a dish towel off the linoleum counter and flapping it at the startled medic. "You can't open the door until it is ready!"
Roy stepped back obediently and circled around the table, grinning at Marco's authoritative tone. He made a grab for his mug, glad to see that Stoker had apparently filled his conversation quota for the shift; he had picked up the newspaper from the table and was trying to peel the damp pages apart. Roy's smile grew even wider as he paused to watch the frustrated attempts of the engineer but he wisely exited the room when Mike's narrow eyed glare rose from the periodical and focused on him.
Skirting around the front of the now dry but very dirty vehicles, Roy meandered towards the locker room, wondering if he should have asked Lopez when the food would be ready. While the coffee was filling a much needed void, his stomach was now clamoring for more sustenance. He strolled into the damp, somewhat steamy room, reminding Roy of his gym period in high school.
Spying Johnny standing at the sinks, shaving, DeSoto dropped onto the bench in front of the first row of lockers. He set his cup down and yawned, running a hand absentmindedly over his own bristly skin.
"I think, well maybe I'm guessing, that Marco's breakfast is almost ready," he finally ventured out with, when the only sound in the room was the continued scraping of razor against stubbly skin.
Gage paused in his single-minded task, not bothering to turn around but looking in the mirror and locking glances for a brief moment with the older man. "Okay."
He dropped his eyes and resumed the torture of his skin; Roy winced at the sound. As If reading his partner's thoughts, Johnny jabbed his brush into his shaving cup and slapped some more soap onto his jaw. A few swift strokes and he was finished. He turned on the water and rinsed the razor before bending over and splashing the residues of white lather from his face.
Roy yawned again and abandoning his coffee, trudged to his locker and pulled his own shaving kit out. He joined Gage at the sinks and lined up his razor, mug, and brush at the top of the far left sink in a precise row. Hand on the faucet, he stopped and looked over.
"So I'm thinking about having a barbecue on our next weekend off…just the guys from our shift this time, along with their families or a date. What do you think?"
"Sure, why not?" Johnny replied, wiping down the faucet and sink top in front of him with a paper towel. He moved over to his locker and threw his bag in the bottom before grabbing his blue shirt off the bench.
"Be a nice way for everybody to kinda get to know each other, the Cap has never met JoAnne and I've never met his wife or Stoker's either."
"Sure hope your wife likes the captain more than she likes me," Gage muttered, head down as he buttoned up his shirt. At the silence that followed his comment, he looked up and met DeSoto's gaze. "What? Roy, she positively spat at me after Dix's party."
"Maybe you shouldn't have asked her that question." At Johnny's puzzled look, Roy sighed and turned around, shaving brush in his left hand and straight edged razor in his right. "Gage, you never ask a woman, especially my woman after she's had a few drinks and a confrontation with your friend Kelly Brackett, if she's overly protective of her mate."
"Oh. Yeah, guess you're right." He conceded reluctantly after a moment's thought, shoving in his shirttails and grabbing his jacket. He pulled it on and started to zip up, then stopped mid zip to frown at the visible wet mark on it. He fumbled in his locker and pulled out a crumpled white towel and blotted at the stain.
Roy resumed his shaving, now anxious to finish so that he could eat. Minutes later he completed his daily task and stowed his shaving supplies. He turned from the sink, bag in hand, and flicked a questioning glance at his partner. Johnny had dropped onto the bench, elbows resting on his knees and towel dangling from his still hands. The bent head and slumped posture reminded Roy of the beginning of their shift, when John had been in almost the same exact position with a towel in his hands.
"You ok?" He questioned warily, waiting to have his head chewed off for asking the question.
The still damp head lifted and he allowed a half smile to flit across his face before he sighed and nodded his head. "Just tired, and feeling like I'm a hundred years old."
"Yeah, sometimes I feel that way too. Stoker was asking about you, thought you didn't look too good."
"Mike?" John asked in amazement, arching an eyebrow. "You got more than three words out of him?"
DeSoto had to laugh at the disbelief emanating from his partner. "Yeah, I lost count after twenty."
Johnny's expression sobered and he bowed his head again, his hands now twisting the towel. He coughed, and tore loose one his hands to rub it against his face. "Say Roy…."
