Thanks for the replies and the feedback. IRALFAN, you get the cybercandy for my question, you were the closest. It was 1976-77-78. I also think somehow you've been secretly reading my notes as your guesses on this story are very close.

I know how hard it is to be on the reading side of a WIP. I'll tell you, it's just as hard to be on the other side as well. Those of you on the Johnny Gage website heard about my "awsome but busy week" Those that didn't and might care, here's a fast recap.

Monday-Tuesday testing on FEMA Hazardous Materials and WMD

Thursday Exam 3 EMT class on Patient assessment in morning then all day with son/DIL even assisting some in delivery of first grandchild,

Friday Clinicals in ER 3-11, Sat 7-7 shift on ambulance medic51. Sunday collapsed!

Now onto the continuing saga of Roy and Johnny!

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Roy lay in his bed, listening to the soft sound of his wife sleeping and wishing he could join her. He sighed, rolled over and punched his pillow into a different shape. 'Why can't I get to sleep tonight? I'm tired, but not over tired. I slept fine last night on shift so I stayed up all today. We had a busy day.' He smiled again as he remembered the excitement around the house over the coming party. Jo had been baking and he'd snuck a couple of fingers full of her homemade chocolate frosting before she'd found out and stopped him. He thought of all the mouthwatering aromas that had permeated the house all day. 'Mmmmm, I just can't wait to try some of that cake. The frosting was soooo good—smooth and rich. And it smells so heavenly baking . . .'he sniffed deeply, breathing in the aroma when suddenly he paused. Frowning, he sniffed again. No, he wasn't mistaken. The heady aroma of baking cake had changed into one he well recognized. From his seat on the back deck, he looked into the house, into the kitchen.

Training took over and he was instantly on his feet. "Jo! Fire in the kitchen! Take the kids over to The Websters and call the fire department." Jo looked up at him, terror on her face as she screamed, "Oh My God, Jenny! Roy! Jenny's in her room!"

Roy glanced at the screen door which now had smoke pouring through it. "Jo! Move it! I'll get Jenny." He waited only until he saw his wife nod, then taking a deep breath, headed into his house. He made his way through the dense smoke, not being able to see in front of him at all. Finally he could hold his breath no longer. He gulped air . . .and heard the familiar sound of his SCBA. A quick glance down at himself confirmed he now wore his turnouts and gear. The smoke cleared somewhat and he hurried toward his daughter's room.

He kicked the door open, afraid of what he'd see but what greeted him wasn't anything that he expected. Another firefighter was all ready in the room, already had his daughter in his own arms. As Roy rushed across the room, that other looked up…. ...and gave him a lop-sided grin through his facemask. "I got her, pally. She's just fine." Johnny grinned at him.

But Roy could see Jenny wasn't 'just fine'. The skin around her mouth was a decided blue and her body was limp. With a cry of rage, Roy grabbed his daughter out of Johnny' arms, forcibly shoving the dark haired man backward as he did. With a startled yelp, Johnny

somersaulted over the bed and landed in a heap on the other side.

Roy pushed up his mask and gave the little girl two quick breaths. Immediately she opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Thank you Daddy." She chirped and kissed her father's cheek. Then she squirmed out of his arms and skipped out the door. Looking out the window, he saw into the backyard as she hugged her mother and then climbed onto a swing.

"Why'd you do that?" Johnny's muffled bewildered voice brought his attention back. He looked over and watched as his partner attempted to struggle to his feet. Then, as if held by an invisible force, Roy felt his own body go rigid. Part of him wanted to step forward, grab his partner and leave the building. The other part of him just wanted to leave and rejoin his family. Unable to move, he could do neither.

"Roy?" Johnny's voice sounded worried. "Hey man, are you awright?"

At that moment, the ceiling gave that particular groan that all firefighters recognized and feared. Both men looked up. Suddenly it fell but as it did, the jumble of wood, plaster and insulation melted into a gelatinous mass. It hit Johnny, instantly burying him up to the waist in the hot goo. Johnny screamed in pain and struggled to free himself from the mass as more dripped down on him. He looked at Roy, his dark eyes wide in horror as he screamed, "Roy! Help me! Oh God it burns! Please, for God's sake, help me!"

Roy watched, his mind begging for action while his legs didn't move, his arms stayed at his side; only his heart reacted to the horror he witnessed as it raced frantically. It was as if his body was controlled by something else and had just brought his mind along for the ride. The goo continued to drop and Johnny continued to struggle. Roy could hear his voice, muffled by the facemask, pleading, "Roy! Please! Don't let me die like this! Oh God, Roy please!"

Still Roy couldn't move, only watch as the goo slowly buried his partner. Johnny's head finally disappeared under the mass and Roy felt a guilty relief he could no longer hear Johnny's screams or see the terror on his face. However, one hand stayed free. Roy found his eyes drawn to it as the long fingers continued to stretch out toward him, reaching for the aid, for the comfort, that never came. Then slowly, they began to relax, to stop their questing. Tears sprang to Roy's eyes as he watched the hand twitch twice then lie still.

Suddenly Roy's body moved; he turned from the terrible sight and walked back out into the hallway. His hand reached out, shutting the door and shutting off his final sight of the mess oozing across the floor, still encasing the dark haired medic's body. Roy felt more tears sting his eyes as the final insult was given, his betraying hand marked the door with a chalk x. Now no other firefighter would check the room since the x signaled the room had been cleared.

Now his body swiftly moved out of the building, leaving the smoke and fire behind as he stepped out into bright sunshine in his own backyard. He looked around to see all the other members of A shift relaxing at the obvious party. He quickly shed his gear and moved to join them, laughing as he did.

With a great gasp, Roy sat up in bed. It was dark, the clock said only 3:30 am. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Already the nightmare that had awaken him was dissolving into mist and all he remembered was it had something to do with Johnny and Jenny. 'Third time in a week I've been awaken like this,' he thought, again angry at the man he'd once called friend. 'That blasted man's ineptitude even haunts my dreams.'

Even as he thought it, something flickered in his mind, some piece of the past nightmare but he shook his head and pushed it away. 'Well, he'll learn. I've just got to try even harder to get him to be more aware. It's really for his own good as well.' He continued to convince himself. 'He's a decent medic,' He allotted. 'I just need keep a closer watch on him, just need to . . to guide him a little more. Yeah that's all he needs, a little firm guidance.'

Still edgy, Roy left the bed and made a quiet inspection of the house. Everything was as it should be and both Chris and Jenny slept peacefully in their rooms. After a visit to the bathroom, Roy returned to his own room. With a sigh, Roy allowed himself to settle back in the bed and closed his eyes. Before long, he was once again asleep and stayed that way for the remainder of the night.

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Johnny looked up into the tear-stained face of the little girl sitting on the chair in front of him. He smiled big and asked, "There now, all done. Did that hurt so bad?" The child hiccupped once and shook her head. Johnny lifted her from the chair and set her on her feet. He turned to the anxious father and said, "It wasn't more than a scrape. I cleaned it and put some disinfectant on it. You should have you own doctor check it out, particularly if you notice any swelling or continued redness or heat coming from it." The man smiled in relief and reached out a hand for Johnny to shake. "Thanks again so much. I'm sorry to bother you guys but I'm at a complete loss when it comes to my kids being hurt. My wife usually handles stuff like that."

"No problem. That's what we're here for." Johnny assured the man as he bent over and picked up the trash from the bandage. Then he was struggling for balance as the little girl suddenly flung her arms around Johnny's neck and gave him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. He regained his balance, one hand going to his face as he watched the two walk off.

"That kinda payment makes it all worthwhile, don't it?" Dwyer's laughing voice came over the crowd noises. Johnny faced his partner for the day and grinned, "Yeah, you're right. It certainly does." He looked out from under the canopy where they had been assigned their aid station. "Looks like the parade's nearly over. I figure it'll take most people about another 2 hours to clear out after that and then they'll probably release us."

Dwyer nodded as he updated the paperwork on their last case. "Yeah, that's what I figured too. Not too bad, Johnny. We've had twenty case here but none more serious then that twisted knee."

Johnny nodded as he disposed of the trash and walked toward the cooler. Another figure stooped under the canopy and stopped, facing the two firemen. Since he stood right at the edge of the sunlight and the shadow of the canopy, Johnny couldn't make out more than a general outline. Johnny faced the broad muscular figure asking, "Can I help you with something?"

"Nope." came the answer as he stepped forward and Johnny recognized the uniform of a Deputy Sheriff. At the same time as he spoke, Dwyer raised his head from the paper work and grinned at the cop, "Hey Birddog! I didn't know you were workin' today?"

Birddog turned toward Dwyer and smirked, "Heard you were goldbrinkin' this shindig today. Thought I'd stop by and make sure you were on the up and up." Dwyer shook his head in disgust.

"Johnny, this here animated hulk is Birddog. Otherwise known as Jonathon C. Benton. Birddog and I've known each other since junior high. BirdDog, this here's Johnny Gage."

BirdDog nodded to the shorter man and extended a huge hand, "Heard about you from others, Gage. You've got a rep around the department."

Johnny took the offered hand and was relieved the man shook it firmly but fairly, not developing the greeting into a machoisum contest. He smiled then frowned, "Nice ta meet ya. . .I think. What do you mean I've got a rep?"

Dwyer snorted as BirdDog tossed him a knowing look. "Nothin' bad. Just most likely to crawl into, climb up or shinny down."

Johnny looked puzzled, "Oh." was all he could say. Under his breath Dwyer added, "Or break, split apart, bleed, or concuss." At that Johnny looked offended and protested, "Hey!" while both Dwyer and BirdDog laughed.

"So, BirdDog, that's an interesting name," Johnny raised an eyebrow after the two men stopped guffing at him. BirdDog jabbed a thumb toward Dwyer. "His fault."

Dwyer nodded, "Yeap. See there was this cutest little thing who had her desk next to me and I was working her up for going with me to go to the Fall Dance. Then I found her sitting on the swings, holding hands with my supposed best friend." He glared at the cop who just shrugged and readjusted his weapon's belt. "So anyway, I wanted to call him all these names but at the time all I could think off was an old Everlys Brothers song about Johnny stealing the guy's chick. I called him a BirdDog and it stuck." He looked over at his friend, "Whatever happened to Shelly anyway?"

Benton grinned, "Ran into her last week. She's married, three kids and fat." Dwyer nodded, "Figures."

Benton hitched his belt again, "Well, gotta go walk-about. Nice meetin' ya Gage," He pointed a finger at Dwyer and growled, "You I'll see tonight." Dwyer nodded chuckling as he watched his friend leave.

Johnny shook his head, "You tagged him with a name like BirdDog and you're still breathing??"

Dwyer laughed. "Ya got him all wrong, Johnny. BirdDog is a gentle giant at heart. Now don't get me wrong, he's a good cop and a helliva buddy to have around during a fight but deep down . . ." He laughed harder and deepened his voice, "Deep, deep down, he's all soft and squishy."

Johnny laughed, "but aren't we all?" He walked back over to the cooler and flipped up the lid. He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to Dwyer before getting one for himself. He sat on top of the closed cooler, twisted off the cap and drank long before coming up for air. Dwyer

put his pen down with a sigh and repeated Johnny's actions. "Man

that's good."

Johnny nodded, "Yeah, but ya know, this year's not as hot as last year."

Dwyer agreed, "We didn't have any heat problems this year. Why by this time last year, . . ." He was interrupted by loud voices, a woman's scream and the side of the canopy bowing down. Johnny sprang to his feet, instantly alert and heading toward the noise while Dwyer picked up the HT. As he called for help, he could hear Johnny's voice saying, "Hey, hey, hey what's going on here?" He desperately hoped his friend wasn't getting into something over his head but had a sinking feeling as he realized, 'This is Gage I'm talking about.'

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The parade was over and most of the crowd had dissipated when Mike changed from his hot dress uniform into a pair of jeans and a shirt. He'd found out where Johnny and Dwyer had been set-up and thought he'd check in on his co-worker. Part of the reason was to see if Johnny still planned on joining the rest of A-shift at Roy's party. He hoped that was still the case. He knew Roy's actions over the last week had seriously hurt the younger man and he's hoped to get him alone to try to talk with him, to let him know that the others were there if Johnny needed them.

He walked up to the canopy, picking his way past trash from the crowds, not envying those who would have to clean the mess up. He bent down to enter the area, noticing one side of the canopy had been torn lose and now hung nearly to the ground. He looked around inside bewildered. There was a cot—empty—two tables, one tipped over with various papers scatter around it, one with two trauma boxes and other various first aid supplies spread across the top but no one around. He circled the area slowly.

"Can I help you with something, sir?" The deep voice came from behind him and he spun around to face a large powerfully built policemen whose hand just casually rested on his belt above his gun.

"Um, no. Not really." Mike stammered then took a deep breath. 'Great going Stoker, if you didn't look guilty before you sure sound like it now.' He gave a grin and tried again. "I'm just looking for a friend of mine."

"Oh?" The officer questioned. Mike nodded and before he could elaborate another voice called, "Hey Benton, what you got? He need a medic?"

Benton turned his head slightly to the voice but his eyes never left Mike and his hand didn't move from over the gun. "Just some guy says he's looking for his friend."

"Yeah? Well, who's his frie . . .Oh! Stoker!" Dwyer's voice got louder as he stepped into the shadowed area then stopped as he recognized his fellow stationmate. He looked over at Benton and grinned, "Relax BirdDog, he's ok. He's a firemen from my station."

Benton relaxed his hand but not his gaze. Dwyer rolled his eyes then grinned at Mike. "Sorry Stoker. We had a . . .um . . .bit of a problem here a little while ago and BirdDog there is still a might jumpy."

Dwyer moved toward the overturned table as he spoke. Mike moved forward, helping him turn it over then began helping gather the papers as Dwyer continued, "Seems a couple of drunks decided to have it out right beside us then decided to have us join them in their mêlée." He took the offered papers from the A-Shift engineer with a, "Thanks for the assist, man."

A sinking feeling settled into Mike's gut as he asked, "Uh, Dwyer, where's Johnny?"

"Rampart." Came the not unexpected answer then Dwyer looked up as he realized how that sounded, "Oh. No. That's not what I meant. I mean Gage took one of the drunks in. He'd had a pretty deep laceration on one arm. The drunk; not Gage."

Mike let his breath out in a sigh. "So. Johnny wasn't hurt."

Dwyer made a face while Officer Benton snorted, muttering something under his breath about 'skinny little guy' and 'just went flying' and Mike looked back and forth between the two, frowning.

"Well, now Stoker, I didn't say that." He gave the other fireman a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders. "You know Gage, if there's trouble around it's bound to find him."

Mike sighed again, "OK. How bad?"

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TBC