Warnings: mild language, mentions of compromising situations, mentions of sexual situations

Just a cute, short chapter to lighten things up a bit. Hope you enjoy the new POV here, as well :)

Marco never put much stock in Valentine's Day. It was a silly holiday, one invented by the card companies and jewelry stores to sell cards and chocolate and flowers and other useless things meant to make up for any and all arguments and indiscretions. If you love someone, you're supposed to show them every day, not just one or two special days a year. They got plenty of calls, too, ranging from kitchen fires to fires from too many candles to rescues for people in compromising positions. People somehow got it in their heads they were either porn stars or acrobats (or both). Me and Mike manage to have plenty of fun without all that crazy, kinky shit. He shook his head as Roy and Johnny came back with another crazy story.

"…so they're both naked," Johnny explained, somehow looking incredibly done with everything and amused all at once, "Now, the guy is handcuffed to bed, and I mean handcuffed good. He's complainin' his shoulders hurt. They looked like they hurt. That was not a good angle to be handcuffed in. Meanwhile, the girl has a dislocated jaw, which I dunno how that happened-"

"It's called a blowjob, Gage," Chet piped up, eliciting laughter from the others.

"Well, I'm aware of that, Chet, I'm only sayin' I dunno how it happened 'cause the male patient wasn't exactly endowed, if you know what I mean. I don't make a habit of lookin' at guys' dicks, but as a paramedic, man, I have seen some shit."

"And dicks, apparently."

"More than anyone would ever want to."

"I dunno, babe, there's some pretty kinky people out there."

Roy told Chet, "Even the kinkiest people would be horrified by some of the things we've seen."

"Anyway," Johnny continued, trying to finish his story, "the female patient has a dislocated jaw, so we're not gettin' any info outta her. We ask if they know where the handcuff keys are. She nods and we ask her to get 'em for us. She shakes her head this time. Now, me and Roy are pretty confused, but Roy asks where the keys are. Would y'all like to know exactly where those keys were?"

A moment of silence reigned before dawning realization crept up on Marco and everyone else. He and Mike both blurted, "She didn't…" as Chet half-yelled, "Oh my God! She didn't!"

"She did. So, me and Roy get the cutters to remove the handcuffs and took both of 'em to the hospital. Early damn near had a fit after they left the treatment room. Dixie actually came in to make sure he was okay. It was pretty funny."

"He said he couldn't help it," Roy added, "Said- and you're not gonna believe this- said just a couple hours before, 16s brought in someone that had, I shit you not, had an empty Coke bottle shoved up his ass."

"How in the hell did he manage that?" Cap asked.

"According to Early, he said he fell on it."

"Fell on it?"

"Apparently, it's a common excuse."

Cap looked disbelieving and confused and concerned all at once as he said, "I never knew enough people went to the hospital with things stuck up their ass for there to be a common excuse for it."

Marco and Mike snorted. Johnny and Roy were called out alone a few more times until about midnight when the station was toned out to a possible house fire. 51s was the first to arrive. Marco couldn't see any smoke or the glow of any flame. The lights came on downstairs, and the front door opened, revealing a man in a bathrobe waving them over. Cap heaved a sigh and called dispatch to return all other units. They all went up to the door, if only to see what had happened now. This better be good…

The man who answered the door was middle-aged and somewhat paunchy, his thinning hair still askew. He clutched at his bathrobe, stammering, "Well, I-I don't know what to say. It's all-all so very embarrassing. I mean- the fire department-… I'm not the one who called-"

"I called them Harold, you-you nincompoop! You imbecile!" a voice screeched from upstairs.

"That-that's my wife, Eleanor."

"Ma'am, do you need help?" Roy called up.

"You're darn right I do! Oh, please hurry!"

Johnny and Roy went upstairs, followed by Harold and the rest of the crew. Harold was still stammering but not making full sentences or saying anything useful. The bedroom was littered with candle stubs, Eleanor sitting on the bed in a robe of her own, complaining loudly.

"… this kook with his 'romantic' candlelight!" she stated, "Sure, it was nice at first, looked nice paired with flowers and rose petals, but that was before he nearly set me on fire! Put one of the damn things too close to the bed! We're lucky the whole house didn't burn down!"

"Could you tell us what happened, ma'am?" Cap asked.

"My hair caught fire, that's what happened!" she howled, "Burned me right to the scalp!"

Chet actually excused himself before he could laugh out loud. Marco had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, and Mike had cracked a smile.

"Would you like us to call an ambulance, ma'am?"

"Well, I dunno if we'll need an ambulance, Cap," Roy said, "but ma'am, you should a see a doctor as soon as you can. You do have a burn on your scalp that looks pretty nasty. Johnny and I can treat it here and you can see your family doctor in the morning, or we can take you to the hospital in the ambulance and you can see a doctor tonight."

"Oh, I think I oughta go to the hospital. It's really starting to hurt, and besides, I'll hardly be able to sleep tonight, anyway. I'll have to go to my hairdresser tomorrow and figure out to cover up this new bald spot I've been given. Dammit, Harold, of all the stupid things..."

Johnny walked up to Cap and spoke quietly, "I think you're good to go, Cap. Just gotta wait for the ambulance now and get Mrs. Evans here to Rampart."

"If Dr. Early's still there, he'll love this one," Marco said.

"Yeah, this is pretty good… but it's not a Coke bottle in the ass," Cap replied.

Marco nearly choked on his own spit trying not to laugh. Mike had to pretend his snort of laughter wasn't laughter. The three of them left quickly, meeting Chet outside.

"I-I'm sorry, Cap," Chet said, "but I had to get outta there before I got in trouble. That was too funny. I mean, it's not a dislocated jaw from a blowjob or handcuff keys where they're not supposed to be, but holy shit, that was still funny."

"I dunno how Roy and Johnny are gonna make it through this one," Mike added.

"Alright, c'mon, let's all get back to the barn… let's go turn in, fellas…"

xXxXx

Truthfully, Joe Early loved working the big holidays. He had no family to spend them with, so really, he might as well spend them working and helping people. Plus, the holidays always brought in the best stories. Valentine's Day usually had some of the best. I've removed more foreign objects from more orifices below the belt than anyone else in this hospital, I think. Joe was the one with the reputation for being able to remove body parts from where they didn't belong and objects from where they didn't belong. More often than not, it was a kid with something stuck up their nose or in their ear. Adults were definitely more interesting.

The call from 51s was an interesting one, to be sure: a man handcuffed with pain and tenderness in his shoulders, a woman with a dislocated jaw, and the handcuff keys apparently somewhere in the woman's vaginal canal. I sure hope they were gonna remove the keys before having sex. He got the feeling that would have quickly become uncomfortable for both of them, though much moreso for the lady. Thankfully, Dixie was already there with him, though he eagerly looked forward to sharing this one with Kel. Joe finally burst into laughter when Dixie escorted the couple out of the room, coming back in to check on him and laughing herself

"Dix, I just don't know if people are ever gonna learn to stop putting things where they don't belong."

"This doesn't beat the Coke bottle in the ass, does it?"

Joe snorted, said, "I don't think anything can ever top that one. Still, this is better than that time I removed a pool ball from that sergeant's mouth in Korea. That's at least a clean story I can tell at nice parties."

"Didn't think you ever got invited to nice parties," she smirked.

"You wound me."

"Aww, I'm sorry to hear that. How 'bout a nice cup of coffee? Will that soothe the wounds?"

"I'm not sure. They're pretty deep. I may never recover," he pretended to sulk.

Dixie made a show of pouting and patted him on the cheek, saying, "Well, I'll do what I can. C'mon, Joe."

If anyone was aware of the nature of the rumors surrounding Joe and Dixie, it was Joe and Dixie. The two of them had met about twenty years before while working at a MASH unit, the 8063rd. (They still giggled whenever it was mentioned on that new sitcom.) Dixie was just about a year out of nursing school, and Joe was fresh from his residency. He'd been drafted because, according to a higher up, he was a 'staggeringly good' neurosurgeon, and they needed more brain surgeons to go with their chest cutters. Nine times out of ten, the head injuries were too severe for him to be of any use, but that one in ten made it feel worthwhile. He needed to look on the bright side, after all, or he's sure he would've gone insane.

Dixie McCall had been invaluable to him. They were both young and scared and maybe a little innocent. They believed in things like a 'cause' and a 'good war,' still cried after every marathon session of meatball surgery, still cheered themselves up singing rowdy songs in the Officers' Club with a tinny piano that wasn't quite tuned right. They had to keep from going crazy, and they helped each other do that.

Joe didn't particularly care what others thought about them. He and Dixie were never romantically inclined. They'd tried kissing before, in Korea, but it always felt silly and ended in bouts of laughter. He felt drawn to her nonetheless, drawn to her kindness, her strength, her will, her beauty. She drew everyone to her in the same way, like the proverbial light in the darkness. No one was immune to her charms, male or female, young or old, American or Korean, regardless of race or religion. Another woman may have used that to an unfair advantage, would have had her way with people, but not Dixie. No, she was kind and sweet to everyone she met… unless they gave her reason not to be.

Together, they survived Korea, then came to LA to work for this hospital. They hadn't left, and things hadn't changed, except perhaps for the better. They had plenty of new friends in the fire department, especially the guys at 51s. Joe didn't like to play favorites, of course, but he was very fond of Roy and Johnny and the rest of their crew. There was just something about them, about the fact that they were good paramedics but didn't brag up and down. They didn't act like they were perfect but also didn't second-guess every move they made. Dixie often likened them to the field medics they knew in Korea. There was still a front line for them to be behind.

"You ever feel like you missed out, Joe?" Dixie asked quietly.

"Missed out on what?"

"On what everyone wants, what they think a normal life is," she replied, "Y'know, getting married, settling down, making a family, all that jazz?"

He shrugged, told her, "Not particularly. My dream was always to be a doctor, a great one, and I like to think I succeeded. None of that other stuff was ever really part of the plan. I have settled down, though, right here in LA, right here at Rampart. And I do have a family of sorts. I've got you and Kel, got the paramedics, guys like Roy and Johnny."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true."

"Also, from what I recall, I asked you to marry me just after we left Korea. You told me it wouldn't be fair."

"I was right. Neither one of us was ready. We were fresh outta the Army, fresh out of a war. We both decided, from what I recall, that we weren't able to give the other what they needed, not then."

"It was a mutual agreement, now that I remember correctly. What if I asked you again? Now?"

She smirked, "I guess I could think about it," and sipped her coffee. Joe chuckled.

"Not sure what I would ever do without you, Dix."

"Well, I guess we can thank the Army for putting us together."

He chuckled again, shaking his head and lifting his mug in mock salute.

"To the goddamn Army."

"To the goddamn Army," Dixie agreed.

They clinked mugs and tried to finish their coffee before being called to the next emergency.

xXxXx

"I swear, the shit we see on Valentine's Day makes me never wanna have sex again," Mike said when he and Marco returned to their apartment, "Almost makes me wanna live a quiet, celibate life."

"I hope you mean that 'almost.' I'm not sure I'd be able to handle a quiet, celibate life."

"Even if it was with me?" Mike pouted.

"With you? I think I could do it… only because it's you, and I love you."

Marco leaned in, pressing his lips to Mike's gently, and Mike hummed happily at the kiss. Neither one of them was particularly fond of Valentine's Day, so they hadn't made any real plans for day after. Valentine's Day was usually fairly chaotic, so they both assumed they'd need to sleep. We managed to get a couple hours in the rack, so I'm not ready to pass out. Could still use some sleep, though… He butted his forehead up against Marco's, hummed again, was struck with a good idea.

Mike carefully rearranged their limbs, holding one of Marco's in his own, placing the other on Marco's waist. He began to hum once more, this time following a tune. They swayed slowly there in their living room. Marco wore a warm smile.

"Hmm… 'As Time Goes By'… good choice, querido."

"It's one of my favorites," Mike replied, "I thought you might enjoy it… enjoy the dancing…"

"Oh, I do. I like this very much… I like you very much, too… Here, sing me some more."

Their foreheads pressed together again. Mike started to hum, but Marco murmured, "No, cariño, sing. I wanna hear your voice."

"I'm not very good."

"I don't care. I love your voice."

Mike smiled softly, heat creeping into his face, and sang quiet and low, "You must remember this/ A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh/ The fundamental things apply/ As time goes by…"

Nothing could have possibly been more perfect than this moment. Comfortable warmth settled in Mike's belly, radiated out into his limbs, buzzed calmly at the base of his skull. Marco's hand felt like it was made for his. Their bodies were flush. I could do this forever, could be just like this with him forever.

"I think I'll have you sing me to sleep every night," Marco murmured, "I'm ready for a nice long nap, I think."

"Yeah, you look ready for a nap. C'mon, let's go to bed, babe… if you can make it that far."

"You might hafta carry me in."

"Wouldn't be too graceful. I am a fireman, after all."

"Gonna throw me over your shoulder?"

"If it comes to that. Don't want you passin' out in the hallway."

Marco laughed quietly. They changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed, curling up around each other. Mike pressed a kiss to Marco's forehead, his nose, his lips. Marco hummed happily, sleepily. Oh yes… I want to do this forever, want to be with him forever. The thought was not as terrifying as it should have been.