Chapter 18

Dixie McCall stepped off the elevator and straight into the path of a yellow slickered, four legged…dog? Her forward motion faltered a moment as she considered the rain geared animal and mentally shifted gears. The sight of the matching garbed human standing behind the odd looking creature quickly allayed her hesitation.

"Well now, who's this?" She asked, dropping to a crouch and presenting the back of her hand for the animal to sniff. The dog obliged, than slurped the offering with a long pink tongue. The nurse fondled the pointed ears that poked from the hat and rose to her feet.

"This is Gracela…er, Grace, she's the dog we found at that barn fire," Roy explained, looking sheepish. "And no, this stuff was definitely not my doing!"

He removed the hat from the German Shepherd's head, earning a grateful lick and a doggy smile. Roy grinned and stuffed the hat into the pocket of his rain coat. "Even the poor dog is embarrassed!"

"Ah now, Roy, I think it's charming. I assume that the ladies in your family had something to do with this?"

"Well yes, although somehow my daughter ended up wearing the dog's coat and tottering around the living room chasing the poor animal." Thinking of that hilarious memory brought a chuckle out of him; he snatched his own hat off and slid it in with Grace's.

Dixie smiled and made kissing noises; Grace reciprocated with a thumping tail, a low woof, and the butting of her head against the pantsuit clad legs. "You like that, don't you girl?" She crooned as she scratched under the whiskery chin. "Isn't this the dog that rescued you and Johnny?"

Another quiet woof and the paramedic made a hand signal. The dog immediately sat down, ears pricked attentively.

"Good girl," he whispered and fed her a treat. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

Dixie watched the interaction with interest; he looked at her and shrugged. "Gage can't have pets so I need her to keep quiet. We, the dog and I, figured the landlord wouldn't be out and about in this weather."

"So Grace is a surprise then?"

"Yeah it is…..how's Johnny doing?"

"He's doing much better," she replied, hesitating as if she was going to add something. Instead she smiled and helped DeSoto take off Grace's raincoat. He folded it up and shoved it under his arm.

"There's no way I'm going to let him see the dog wearing this getup," he muttered, winking at Dixie as she laughed. "I'm glad he's feeling better, he really seemed to be worn out."

"Yes he was, although he's still sore and his bruises are quite colorful." McCall gave the dog a last pat and readied Marco's umbrella. She turned her wrist and checked her watch. "Remind John to take his antibiotic which are on the counter in thirty minutes, plus there's some Tylenol in the same bag if he needs it. Oh, and Roy, a couple of the guys from your shift are already up there."

Roy nodded. "Sure, no problem, I'll remind him. I kinda figured some of the crew would beat me over here. Let me guess, Marco and Chet?"

"Yes, and Chet was accompanied by his giant umbrella; check out the hallway before you get to John's door and you'll see what I mean."

Opening the outside door for her, Roy shot her a puzzled look. She gave him a sweet smile, opened the umbrella and stepped into the driving rain. He watched until she made it into her car and then turned back to the lobby and his patiently waiting dog.

He encouraged her into the elevator and laid a hand on her head as she pressed firmly against his leg as they creaked upwards. He felt a tremble run through her body at the unaccustomed movement and sound but she squared up on her four legs and faced the door with firm resolve.

"You're a good girl, aren't you Grace?" He crooned to her softly as he shrugged out of his raincoat and tucked the dog's coat into the other large pocket. He'd been amazed at how this starving, scruffy stray had responded to the kind words and attention bestowed upon her. Johnny had immediately taken her to a vet when they had finished their crazy, animal laden shift that morning *; aside from dehydration and malnourishment the young German Shepherd had been given a clean bill of health. She had been dewormed and received her shots; from there Gage had traveled to a friend's house and had the animal thoroughly groomed by a woman he simply said had "amazing hands". Whether he had experienced those hands first hand or was just referring to the way she took care of dogs Roy didn't know, and wasn't sure he ever wanted to know. But when he saw the dog again hours later, he had readily agreed that Johnny's friend knew what she was doing.

And now here she was, the DeSoto family's first dog. It had taken some convincing to get JoAnne to agree to adopt the dog, but after the telling of the dog's heroic actions at the barn she had agreed to let the dog stay for a trial period. Grace absolutely adored Christopher and followed him throughout the house and usually slept by his bed. She was affectionate with the women of the house but more restrained; Roy had decided that she liked men better than women. Every time he returned home from his twenty four hour shifts, she was impatiently waiting at the front door with excitement shaking her whole body from nose to tail.

The doors opened and Grace surged forward, nose twitching and an eager whine escaping her opened mouth. When her tail began a frenzied waving, the medic realized the dog had picked up Johnny's scent. Of all the people the stray had encountered, he remained her favorite. DeSoto checked the hallway and released her with the command of "find Johnny".

She bounded down the hallway, her head only dropping once to catch the familiar smell. She slid to an undignified halt in front of Gage's door and immediately dropped to a sit position, one paw raised halfway as if to knock on the wood. As Roy approached, she tilted her head sideways to look at him with an eyebrow arched, chiding him for his slow pace.

Roy laughed and shook his head. "I don't know what Johnny has been teaching you behind my back, girl, but you seem to be picking up a lot more from him then simple commands."

Knocking softly, he heard a burst of laughter from within as someone cracked the door open an inch and then swung it wide open. He dropped his hand, flicking his fingers forward, one of the six or so gestures they had taught the dog since they had been training her. She ploughed forward, deftly dodging the door holding Lopez and bee lining straight for her intended target.

Johnny let out a surprised grunt as the missile hit him and knocked him backwards; they landed on the floor in a pile of fur and legs. Roy dropped the raincoats and the bag he had been carrying onto the floor as he rushed forward, cursing himself under his breath for not thinking ahead. Grace was still underweight but it was still fifty pounds of dog sitting on Gage's lungs.

He skidded to a halt and drew in a relieved breath as he realized it wasn't Johnny gasping for air that he had heard, but snorts of laughter as his partner tried to evade the thorough face washing he was receiving. He put a hand on the red leather collar around the slurping dog's neck and gave it a light tug.

"Come on Grace, get off him."

She gave him a doggy grin, left a wet trail of slobber on his hand, and resumed her ministrations, or at least tried to. In the brief second her attention had turned from him, Gage had managed to raise his head and get his hands up. He twisted his shoulders to gently move her, said something to her that Roy couldn't catch, and kept a reassuring hand on her as she scrambled off. She sat next to him and followed his movements with adoring eyes.

Grabbing Roy's offered hand, John got to his feet and swiped a hand across his wet face. He coughed once, cleared his throat, and flashed a sheepish grin. "Guess we need to work on that with her, kinda felt like a freight train hitting me."

"Sounded like one too," DeSoto added wryly, fishing his handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to the younger man. Johnny grinned even wider as he saw the initials on the ironed square, but said nothing about the fancy embellishment as he wiped at the dog saliva. "I thought maybe she was going to compress the rest of the canal water out of your lungs."

Gage's smile disappeared. "How'd you know about that, you were already gone when we did that rescue? Or should I say the attempted rescue, since the idiot in that car decided to try it on his own?"

"One of the guys told me about it, that's all," Roy said softly, trying to read his new partner's rapidly changing expression. "I was just wondering how your cough was."

"I'm good," Johnny replied just as quietly, his eyes sliding away from Roy's curious gaze, straying downwards to the dog and then flicking over the other two men who were hovering near the kitchen counter. He looked back at Roy and lobbed the concern ball right back at him. "How's your ankle?"

"Perfectly fine," he answered, resisting the strong urge to repeat Johnny's words and then question him further. He hadn't missed that shifty eye movement, or the hesitation that Dixie McCall had used in her reply to the almost same question about Gage's health. "Started out in the bed but then moved to the couch in the living room so that I could prop it up on the arm; it worked really well. The wife kept the kids busy outside when she wasn't hauling them with her on errands so that I could sleep, which I did for quite a few hours."

"I guess it's nice to be married." Johnny's tone was mild and without any inflection, but Roy had a feeling he was being sarcastic. Then again, he really didn't know him that well, so who was he to jump to conclusions? He decided to take the words at face value.

"It sure is!" He replied with honest enthusiasm, stepping back to give both Johnny and the dog room to pass.

"Hey Roy, how'd you get that dog here without her getting wet?" Chet queried, crouching down to Grace's level to run a hand through her fur. "And how in the world did you come up with Grace for a name, anyways?"

DeSoto made an exasperated noise and gestured towards the telltale yellow pile. "My wife somehow found raingear for the dog, don't ask me where or how, I just know she brought it home."

All the men laughed and Kelly straightened up. "And what about the name…? I heard you and Gage discussing choices, and I don't remember that one; in fact, I thought you guys had it narrowed down to **Moonshine, Bramble, or Ember?"

Feeling his face flush with embarrassment, Roy rubbed a hand across his chin and grimaced. It didn't help that Johnny had turned from the sink, dripping water from his clean hands and face, and regarded him with as much curiosity as the other two guys. He turned and toed off his rubber boots, pushing them with a foot against the wall and regretting the trail of water he had already left across the floor.

"Well, we did have those names in the final running. But JoAnne asked to name her, and since Christopher and I really wanted to keep her, we let her choose."

Johnny snatched up a dish towel from the counter, dried off the water, and lobbed the now wadded up towel at his partner. "Yeah, you told me all that, but you never told me why she picked out Grace. Look at the dog; does she look like a Grace to you?"

The German Shepherd lifted her muzzle as four pairs of eyes scrutinized her. Roy quickly commanded "quiet" accompanied with the hand gesture he had used downstairs as the nose tilted farther upwards in preparation for a howl. She whimpered at the injustice of being denied her vocal protest and instead sat stiffly down on the carpet, finally relaxing slightly and leaning against Johnny's jean clad leg as he stopped beside her.

"No she doesn't, although if you tacked "my" onto the front it might work. Look how regal she looks, sitting there just like a queen," Marco said with a grin.

Chet shook his head. "Nah, I was thinking more along the lines of Killer, Hunter, or maybe even Sheridan? You know, like the tank?"

"She is proving to be a good watchdog, but I don't think I want a dog around my family whose name implies she's going to kill people," Roy stated firmly. "If you really must know, JoAnne is a huge fan of Elvis Presley, so hence the name."

There was silence as the crew processed what he had said and then shrugs and head shakes as no one understood what he meant. Roy threw up his hands in mock outrage. "Graceland, as in where Elvis lives? I just can't bring myself to call her the whole length of the name."

"Oh…..yeah, got it now," Chet smirked, winking at Marco and leaning towards Roy. His voice changed to a loud whisper that everyone could still hear. "Probably a good thing the dog is a girl, otherwise Gage would be out in the park calling for Elvis, and every woman within earshot would come running, thinking that "The King" was strolling about."

"Good one Kelly, good one," John snickered. "I guess you had the upper hand in naming your kids, huh Roy?"

"Well," the paramedic waffled, smiling. "She did want to name Christopher, Elvis, but we compromised and that's his middle name."

"Christopher Elvis DeSoto," Lopez mused. "Not so bad, I guess. But Roy, isn't your daughter's name Lisa? It isn't Lisa Marie is it?"

"No, no, I drew the line at going that far. Her name is Lisa Ann."

"You're lucky Gage, they might have named the dog Priscilla and you could have been calling out "Here Prissy, Prissy"! I don't think that would be much of a babe attraction." Chet added, laughing. Groans met this last attempted joke and Chet wisely held back any more comments.

Marco cuffed his friend lightly on the shoulder. "Sometimes Amigo, you amaze me, and I've known you an awful long time."

"Sometimes I amaze even myself, old buddy!" The lineman retorted, grinning as he watched Roy pick up the abandoned raingear and hoist it up on the end hook of a row of heavy hooks. The hooks were set into a piece of curved driftwood that apparently constituted Gage's coat closet. Their coats were already hanging there; a towel was laid out underneath to catch the drips that came from only Roy's yellow slicker. The umbrellas the linemen carried had done their job.

Marco, who had followed his gaze, looked above the driftwood to the skull of a steer, complete with two long horns. Each curved horn held a hat; a battered cowboy hat on the left one and a much cleaner Dodger's baseball hat on the other.

"I like your hat and coat rack, Johnny," he said, stepping closer to see how the hooks were affixed to the weathered wood from the ocean. Johnny shrugged, as if embarrassed by the compliment, and headed towards the far doorway. "Make yourselves at home, guys, I'm gonna grab a pair of socks."

They did as he suggested and moved to the furniture. Marco and Chet sat down on the loveseat, while Roy sat on the floor and back leaned back against the weird chair. He called Grace over and she sprawled next to him, head resting comfortably on his thigh but eyes watchful. Her tail thumped in excitement when Johnny returned a moment later, feet warmly clad in a pair of white socks; he plopped down on the chair and scratched her ears.

Roy tipped his head back so he could see his partner. "What kind of chair is this?"

"It's a chair that converts into a kinda lounge thing, like a fold down bed only a bit narrower." He drew his legs up and clasped his arms about them. Grace heaved a resigned sigh as the ear scratching terminated and closed her eyes. "Thanks for bringing the dog over. It really was a nice surprise."

"Sure, it was no problem. You don't think your landlord will see us, do you?"

"Nah, he lives in one of the other buildings and his windows face the other direction. Plus with that seafaring getup you were wearing, there's no way he'd ever recognize you again if he saw you!" Johnny's laugh turned into a cough and Roy twisted around to get a better look at him, eyes narrowed at the harsh sound.

Dropping his hand from his mouth, Gage looked back at him through watering eyes. "It's ok..."

"Right…" Roy drawled, trying to keep the disbelief out of his one word reply. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that both Marco and Chet were watching them, and had stopped their conversation. He untangled himself from the dog and stood up. "That reminds me, I forgot I brought something for you."

"What is it?" Johnny asked curiously, dropping his feet to the floor but remaining on the chair.

"Something I whipped together when I got up. Should be about set by now…." Roy picked up the bag by the wall and went into the small kitchen, pulling out a thermos and a brown Tupperware container. He placed the bowl into the fridge and walked back over to his partner, unscrewing both lids on the red thermos. Johnny looked on skeptically as he poured an orange liquid into the cup sized lid.

"Here, try this, it's still warm." DeSoto handed him the cup; John brought it to his nose and sniffed.

"Is this Jell-O?" He asked uncertainly. Roy nodded and Gage tried a tentative sip.

"Not too bad, never had it warm before though…." he admitted, swallowing some more.

"The normal stuff, that's just about solid, is in your fridge. I used ice cubes when I made it so it would set up quicker," Roy boasted, smiling as Chet snickered. "Hey I can make stuff, Kelly. All you got to do is follow the instructions."

"You got to be kidding, right? We men never read the instructions on anything, do we? We're born with it all in our heads," Chet argued, standing up and tapping his noggin for emphasis.

It was Marco who laughed next. "Yeah Chet, just like we don't ask for directions 'cause we always know where we're going, right?"

"Hey, that was a one-time thing," the lineman argued, waving a finger at his friend.

"Uh huh, a forty five mile thing that time, and a fifteen mile thing that other time, and that other thing where we went in a circle for about thirty minutes passing the same building five times…."

The paramedics looked at each and grinned as their shift mates continued their bickering. Grace, who had deposited her long, lean body across Johnny's ankles and feet, thumped her tail and dropped her head down between her front paws, her whiskers brushing her dew claws on each side. Johnny leaned forward, wondering if she was going to cover her ears to drown out the racket.

"That liquid Jell-O will help keep your stomach settled if it's still bothering you," Roy advised as John settled back into the chair, breathing a disappointed sigh when the dog didn't do what he had hoped she would.

"It's kinda leveled out now, but thanks, I think it'll help." He handed the empty lid back to Roy, who carried it all back to the kitchen.

"How about I leave the rest in the thermos? It'll stay warm for a while if you want it later." DeSoto called out, adding a dollop of dish soap to the lid and giving it a quick wash and dry before putting it back on the thermos.

"Yeah, that's good," Johnny replied, debating whether to ask him to bring the Tylenol from Dixie's bag. His head was pounding a steady beat now; the tempo increasing as the volume rose in the apartment. He was reluctant to ask the guys to leave or even to quiet it down a bit. Admitting weakness in front of anybody, especially these guys, was one of his many hang-ups that he was trying to conquer. He also didn't want to ask that new partner of his why he had made the Jell-O; from all of Roy's idle chatter about his wife he knew she liked to putter around in the kitchen and didn't usually allow her husband too much freedom in that domain. Had she refused to make it, knowing it was for him? Or had Roy not bothered asking?

He slumped further into the soft confines of the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed a thumb and forefinger under his eyes. Tired again too, even after what was usually more than enough sleep. It might just be a flu bug but it sure was kicking his butt. He stared down at the dog and emulated her by closing his eyes. He quickly opened them again when something nudged his arm.

Roy was standing beside him with a glass of ginger ale and two bottles of pills in his other hand. John raised his eyebrows in surprise but accepted first one pill bottle than the other, shaking out what he needed in the palm of his hand. He chased the pills down with the soda, thinking that the guy was pretty observant. Marco and Chet had toned down their conversation also, whether by accident or from a signal from Roy he wasn't sure but it would definitely help.

"Thanks Pally," he said, raising his glass in a salute. "You don't mind if we skip Grace's training tomorrow, do ya?"

He was referring to the several sessions they had had so far with the shepherd; they worked on a handful of basic commands with Grace in a large public park situated an equal distance between their respective homes. She was a quick learner and they were both pleased with the results.

"Of course not, if the weather clears up I'll work with her a bit in the backyard. Speaking of backyards…." Roy raised his voice a bit with his last words, catching the attention of the other two men. "We're good to go on the barbecue at my house this coming Saturday, around four or five. And you're more than welcome to bring a guest; I just need to know so I can get a fairly accurate head count."

"Sure, Roy, it sounds like fun. Count me in, plus one," Marco said, teeth flashing as he contemplated on whom he should ask. "What do you need us to bring?"

"I'll be there too," Chet added, holding up two fingers. "Want us to bring the beer, me and Marco?"

"That would work out fine," Roy agreed, furrowing his brow as he tried to remember what JoAnne had asked him to do. He was pretty sure there was a list that he could double check; she had no doubt compiled that list after she had got up this morning as she was very organized. He looked at his partner. "What about you? Do you want to bring someone?"

Johnny scratched his chin, feeling the sparse and itchy growth. "Yeah, I'll bring someone along with me. They seem to have the alcohol covered; do you want me to get some chips or something like that?"

"Uh huh, sure," DeSoto agreed, stretching back out on the floor, but on his side this time. He set the pill bottles in front of him so that he wouldn't forget to put them back in the kitchen; Gage still held the glass.

The intercom buzzed and Kelly jumped to his feet. Roy chuckled and couldn't resist calling after the retreating back. "Tell whoever it is to watch out for your giant umbrella in the hall!"

Chet's "ha-ha" floated back as he buzzed in Stoker. John shook his head and wondered how many of these well-meaning shift mates of his were going to be sick by next Saturday….and how JoAnne DeSoto would welcome him…..

~TBC~

* "A is For Animals"

**Many thanks to Marbo and FlaFan for the dog's name suggestions in my "A is For Animals" story.

A/N – couldn't wait for my yet to be started "F" story to slide in the reason behind Lisa's name, especially after Graceland accompanied Roy. Thank you once again for having the patience to stick with this story!