Warning: violent images in the final paragraph.

Chapter 27

Hank Stanley stood pacing in front of his living room window, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Chief McConnike. He dreaded being alone with the man during the ride to Roy's house. The nervous fire captain felt butterflies flitter in his stomach whenever he was around the older man; had ever since he was McConnike's engineer.

"Honey, just have a seat," Rebecca encouraged. "You're wearing a path in our carpet."

"I'm sorry, Becca. I just… I hate being alone with him."

"Well, imagine how John must be feeling right now," she suggested, knowing how easily John could get worked up.

Hank turned around, offering her a smile. "I have thought about it. I just wish I could settle him down before we get there. He has a way of…," Hank chuckled, staring down at his feet. "Of sticking his foot in his mouth." Hank looked back up at his wife, seeing the tender concern in her eyes. "And John doesn't know the Chief like I do."

Two sharp horn beeps sounded, and Hank groaned. "Ugh," he sighed, peeking out the curtains, unnecessarily; he knew who was in his driveway.

"Wish me luck," he said, inhaling deeply as he opened the front door.

"You'll be fine, sweetheart."

The ride to the DeSotos' home was made with the chief droning on and on about the civil rights marches during the sixties and the advancements made by the department in hiring minorities. Hank offered a few obligatory grunts, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. In his opinion, Chief McConnike was one of the most judgmental men in the department, but Hank had no choice but to keep his views to himself. The chief always looked polished to the upper echelon of the department, but a few of the men who had worked directly under his command held an entirely different view of their superior. Hank was one of those men, but he had never been forgiven for the hat burning incident, and McConnike enjoyed bringing it up every so often. He wondered if perhaps he should share the details with his men, after they were all back together on shift. He tucked that thought away for the moment, deciding that if the opportunity presented itself, he would let them know exactly why he had burned the chief's hat.

When they arrived at their destination, they both exited the chief's car, heading up the steps to the front door where they were met by Roy.

"Chief, Cap," he greeted them. "Come in."

In the kitchen, Johnny stood in front of the refrigerator, removing the condiments needed for the sandwiches. When he heard the familiar voices, he set the jars down on the kitchen table then used his fingers to comb his damp hair into place.

"John Gage, how are you doing?" Chief McConnike asked, extending his hand to his young paramedic.

"I'm, uh, doin' well, sir. And you?"

"Oh, fine, fine," the chief responded, shifting his bespectacled eyes to the lady of the house. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. DeSoto."

"Oh, you're very welcome. I'm happy to do it. Everything is ready for you men, so I'll just make myself scarce."

"No, Joanne, that won't be necessary. Please," Hank began, pulling out a chair at the table for her, "have a seat. We'll talk after lunch."

Johnny's heart seemed to jump into his throat and remain there. How could he eat when he didn't know if he would still be employed by the end of the chief's visit?

He slathered his bread with mayonnaise, slowly creating his sandwich, while the others assembled and ate theirs in the midst of casual chatter. He sipped his glass of water, using the cool liquid to wash the small bites of his sandwich down his throat. He had only consumed about half of it when the others seemed to be finishing up their meal. Thankfully, he was able to hide the remnants of his sandwich beneath his napkin.

Joanne began clearing the dishes, exchanging glances with her husband. Roy looked as worried as Johnny, and Hank didn't look much better. "How about some coffee and chocolate chip cookies? Corrie and I made them yesterday."

"Um, Jo, I'll help you get everything ready," Roy commented. "You fellas go on out onto the deck, and I'll be out with the coffee and cookies in a minute." He didn't want Joanne to overhear the conversation should it get heated, so he used the excuse of helping his wife in order to ensure that the kitchen window was completely closed. Firemen had a propensity for foul language, and she had already chastised him about his earlier swearing.

Johnny tensed his jaw muscles, feeling as if his partner had just thrown him under the proverbial bus by leaving him alone with their superiors.

"Well, it is a beautiful day," the chief said, pulling open the sliding glass door.

Hank followed next, while Johnny lingered long enough to give Roy a pleading glance.

"I'll hurry," Roy whispered, pulling the mugs from the cabinet. He and Johnny had been communicating without words for a long time, and right now, he certainly knew what Johnny was thinking.

The three men sat around the patio table as an uncomfortable silence fell around them. Johnny, who was normally very attuned to the sounds around him, heard nothing. There was no traffic noise, no songbirds, not even the rustling of the leaves in the trees. The only noise he heard was the rushing sound in his ears. He sat up as straight as possible, wondering which of his supervisors would speak first.

"John, I'm glad you're feeling better," Hank said, patting his shoulder.

"Thank you, Cap…" Suddenly, Johnny blanched. Was Hank Stanley still his captain?

"Yes, me too, Gage," McConnike added. "The fresh air," he said, inhaling in an exaggerated manner, "and the smell of freshly cut grass just makes me feel energized."

"Makes my eyes water," Johnny muttered, rubbing at the inside corners of his eye sockets.

"Ahhh, yes... that, too. Are you okay out here?" the chief asked.

"Ah, yessir, fine."

"Very well," McConnike began, using his index finger to push his new glasses further onto his nose.

The gesture reminded Johnny of Craig Brice's annoying habit. He thought about how ironic that thought was; he and Brice had never been close, but right now, Johnny missed him. When the chief cleared his throat, Johnny was jerked out of his musings, returning his attention to his superior.

"Ahem... John, I understand that you had quite an experience when you were younger."

Johnny's eyes widened. He had no idea that McConnike knew what had happened in Selma. He had just assumed that he was going to be disciplined for his excessive absenteeism. His paid leave had run out several days ago. By not returning to work, or notifying his captain, he had basically abandoned his job, even though his intension had been to resign. Johnny had never been a good poker player; his expressive face always gave him away, just as it was doing now.

"Relax, son," McConnike stated, realizing that he had surprised the young man. "We're-"

"Here's the coffee and cookies," Roy announced, rushing out the open door and setting the tray down in the middle of the table. He saw the look on Johnny's face and wondered what he had missed.

"Thanks, DeSoto," the chief said, reaching for a steaming mug. "John, Hank has shared with me all the details of your past experiences."

Johnny gulped, unable to look at his captain. Why had he told the chief everything? He felt the prickly heat of embarrassment and anger clawing and scratching along his reddening neck. It was bad enough to have his friends know what had happened, but now his chief knew, too. How long would it be before the entire department knew? He didn't mind being the butt of a few friendly pranks around 51's, but if the entire department found out about his past… He shuttered at the thought of what might happen to him then.

"John, I want you to know that the department will grant you the time off to go back to Selma for the trial. It will be administrative leave, paid time off but not vacation time, okay?"

"Um… 'kay, th-thank you, sir." Johnny's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Had he understood the chief correctly? If he was going to be granted paid time off, then perhaps he wasn't going to be fired, after all.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I want to discuss more recent events," McConnike stated.

Johnny's heart sank. This was it. This was the reprimand he had been dreading.

"I understand you joined a cult, Gage."

Johnny coughed, struggling to breathe for a moment. "Ahua… ahem… Well, not exactly, sir."

The chief shot his captain a disapproving glance and then looked back at the man in question. It was obvious to both paramedics that Captain Stanley had told the chief what had happened in Tehachapi.

"Not exactly? How do you, not exactly, join a cult? We've had quite a few out here on the West Coast and you are either IN or OUT… Never sort of in. That's like a woman being sort of pregnant," the older man joked. No one laughed.

"Chief," Hank began, his hazel eyes growing more concerned. "I explained that to you, already. It was a rescue."

"Yes… I'm well aware of the rescue, Stanley. The FBI has already informed the department that SEVERAL of my men were involved in a rescue of ONE of their own." His icy blue-eyed glare sent a chill down Johnny's spine.

"But… Johnny was there to rescue a young lady named Lily Campbell," Roy began, feeling defensive.

McConnike held up a hand in Roy's direction, silently shushing him. Roy gritted his teeth, but he knew better than to talk back to his superior.

"I understand that a report will be forthcoming from the feds that will explain it all, in detail, but right now, I want an explanation from the two of you," he said, pointing his wrinkled finger at Hank and Johnny, respectively.

Johnny, having spent the last several weeks trying to protect his station 51 family, immediately jumped at the chance to defend his captain. "Cap'n Stanley had nothing to do with this, sir. I'm totally to blame here… Jus' me," he said, once again pointing his middle finger at his own chest.

Roy's face paled; he felt a sense of déjà vu when Johnny spoke.

"Hank, what your men do is a direct reflection on YOU, ME and on the department."

Hank felt his mouth go dry. He forced his voice to remain calm when he responded. "John Gage was on paid leave to handle some personal business… He can do whatever he damn well pleases on his own time."

"Not when it reflects poorly on the department!" the other man argued. "Joining up with those flower loving, tree hugging, dope smoking hippies makes all of us look like a bunch of religious fools!"

Johnny's fists began to clench and release in his lap. He would not allow his captain, or anyone else on his shift to take the blame for what he had done.

"Johnny was tricked into joining that group, Chief," Roy spoke up. "He only did it to get Lily out. He had no idea that she was working with the FBI to take down the leader."

"Then maybe he isn't the rescue man he's been made out to be," the angry man shot back.

Johnny leaned forward, unable to take any more. "HE," he said, patting his chest with his open palm, "is sitting right here. Don't talk about me like I'm not!"

"Alright, John… Then why don't you answer my question?"

"I didn't hear a question asked," Johnny stated flatly.

"Oh for heaven's sake," the chief said with a soft snort. "What the hell happened to you up on that mountain? I need some reassurance that you'll be fit for duty when you come back on shift and not go… AWOL."

"Headquarters will be sent a copy of his medical release, Chief. Just like we do for any man who gets injured," Hank responded.

"I've reviewed his most recent medical report that stated he was underweight, and I also know that I never received a follow-up report telling me he was back up to the minimum weight. HOWEVER," the chief said, leaning forward, slightly. "I'm not as concerned about his gaining or losing a few pounds as I am about the… overdose."

Roy and Hank both tried to speak at once, but it was Johnny's voice that overpowered them both.

"To respond to your first concern," Johnny said, sounding more professional than Roy or Hank had ever heard. "I didn't return for my weight check. Like Cap said, I was on leave for personal reasons. As to your second concern, I was drugged with an herbal opioid… um, concoction," he replied, unsure of exactly what he had consumed. "I was given a spiked drink. I did NOT do it deliberately."

The fire chief sat deathly still, scrutinizing the younger paramedic as if trying to determine if he was being truthful. The older man stared at Johnny, obviously wanting to ask a question but unsure of how to phrase it. Hank knew exactly what the chief was thinking. 'Don't you dare say it, you sonofabitch!' Captain Stanley thought to himself.

"We nearly lost him, chief," Hank finally said.

"So I heard," McConnike replied. "I'm truly glad that you're alright, John. I apologize if I sounded… cold, or unconcerned. I care about ALL the men under my command," he shot back, his words obviously aimed at Hank.

McConnike pushed back from the table. He positioned himself to stand up, placing his flattened palms on the table, then asked Johnny a question, trying to make it appear as an afterthought. "Has anything like this ever happened before, son?"

Johnny's nostrils flared and his breathing became labored. He knew exactly where his chief was headed with his line of questioning and it made him sick to his stomach. He clenched his teeth together, squeezing his jaw muscles until they ached. "Never!" he spat out.

Hank wanted to speak up, to defend his paramedic against their superior officer, but he struggled to find his voice. 'You bigoted bastard,' he thought.

"So this… overdose… was some kind of an accident?"

"Chief," Hank said, finally. "You'll see when the report comes out. What Johnny is telling you is absolutely true. He did nothing wrong… nothing!"

"I never meant to imply that he did, Hank." Chief McConnike had taken this subject as far as he could without compromising his own position within the department. "Any lasting effects from the, um… poison?"

"No, sir. Dr. Buck said I was very lucky. I'm going to see Dr. Brackett in a few days for a follow-up appointment and I believe he'll clear me for duty. I think I'll be back at the right weight by then."

The chief's entire demeanor seemed to change immediately, confusing the two paramedics. "I'm glad that you're recovering well, and I'll be glad to have you back on shift in a few days." He stood up, patting the stunned paramedic on his shoulder. "You take care of yourself, young man. Our department needs more men like you on the front lines."

Hank stood up, biting his tongue to keep from getting himself in trouble. He knew what McConnike meant by that last comment, and it had nothing to do with Johnny's skills or bravery. The chief was the kind of man who wanted certain individuals to STAY on the front lines, rather than advancing into positions of leadership.

"You take it easy, John. We'll see you next Sunday," Hank said, shaking hands with his two men.

McConnike extended his hand to Roy first, thanking him for lunch, then he shook Johnny's hand. "Please know that the department is fully supportive of your testifying in Selma. You're a very honorable, brave young man." With that final comment, Chief McConnike walked back into the house, followed closely by the other three men.

"Goodbye, Mrs. DeSoto. Thanks again for the lunch."

"You're welcome, Chief McConnike," she said, her hands plunging into the soapy dish water. "You, too, Cap. Give my best to Rebecca," Joanne called out to the departing men, wondering how their meeting had gone.

Roy and Johnny stood on the steps of the DeSoto home, watching as their supervisors walked down the sidewalk.

"Well... that was strange," Roy mumbled to his partner, unsure of what had caused the chief's sudden change in demeanor. When he looked at Johnny, he saw the younger man's thousand-mile stare, and he wondered if Johnny had some insight into Chief McConnike's strange behavior.

Johnny continued staring at the departing supervisors, crossing his arms over his chest, defensively. "No, Roy... It wasn't strange at all." He turned his head to the right, just enough to glance at his friend. "I've heard the same unspoken speech many times."

Roy drew his eyebrows together, waiting for Johnny to elaborate, but an explanation for his last comment never came.

As McConnike and Stanley made their way out to the red chief's car, Hank turned around and surveyed Roy and Johnny standing side by side on the steps of the DeSoto home. He didn't think Roy had caught on to what McConnike had done, but Hank knew and he was sure Johnny knew as well, and it nauseated him.

As soon as they got into the chief's car and began the drive back to the Stanley home, McConnike turned to his former engineer. "You'll need to watch him close, Hank," he said, emphasizing his point with his index finger. "You know how easily some people can become addicted – even after just one time. That young man can make the department look good. I mean, imagine the press coverage we'll get with one of our men being a witness to the civil rights murders in Selma, but he's got to stay clean and sober while he's in the limelight… Well, and on shift, of course."

"He's not interested in the press coverage for the department," Hank shot back. "And I know he sure as hell doesn't have a drug problem… In spite of what you may think about his heritage."

"Maybe not, but there are certain people we need to monitor a little closer than others."

Hank fought an internal battle to keep from punching his superior. He truly hated Chief McConnike.

"One of the FBI agents was undercover and was there when it happened. Why don't you talk to him?" Hank suggested.

"I'll read the report when it comes," McConnike stated, seemingly unfazed by the fact that the FBI was involved in the situation involving the men from Station 51.

Hank's rage nearly erupted, but for the sake of his men, and his own job, he remained silent. Chief McConnike was still the same bigot he had been back when Hank had burned his hat.

E!

As darkness fell over Los Angeles, Marco drove Beverly home. They had shared a wonderful day, working through some issues from Beverly's past, and strengthening the bond that was drawing them together. Marco had amazing insight into human behavior, and she felt much closer to him after spending the day talking and making love. She kissed him goodnight then jostled her key into the keyhole. He waited for her to turn on the lights in her apartment before he left. He felt a lightness in his step, whistling as he walked back to his burgundy sedan. They had made a lot of progress over the last forty-eight hours, and he hoped it was just the beginning of their future together.

Inside her apartment, Beverly locked her door then headed for her bathroom. She felt emotionally drained, and yet, freer than she had felt in a very long time. He had seen her body, really seen it, and he hadn't rejected her. In fact, it was just the opposite. He wanted to continue seeing her. She wished she wasn't on shift at The Wellhouse tomorrow because she would have really enjoyed spending another night in his strong safe arms.

She flipped on the light in her bathroom, beginning her nightly routine before going to bed. When she pulled open the door of her medicine cabinet, her heart skipped a beat. There, lying next to her toothbrush, was the white round dispensing container for her birth control pills. She had forgotten all about them, having missed two pills while she was trying to help rescue Johnny and Lily. She thought back over the love making she had enjoyed with Marco, and her heart began to pound inside her chest and fear slithered up her back, wrapping around her throat, constricting her breathing. The two of them hadn't used any protection.

"Ohmygod, no… "

E!

Johnny surprised both Joanne and Roy by agreeing to remain with them for one more night. As he snuggled beneath the covers in the DeSotos' guest room, he was grateful that his disclosure of suicidal thoughts had not been brought back up. The family, including the DeSoto children, had spent the afternoon and evening grilling burgers and enjoying the waning warmth of the late summer night.

Johnny had been coaxed by Jennifer to push her on the tire swing. He watched her long blonde ponytail waving behind her in the wind as he pushed her higher and higher. He felt a twinge of jealousy for his partner. Roy DeSoto truly had it all, and he had nearly thrown it all away because he had jumped to conclusions instead of communicating openly with his wife.

He reached out, pressing harder along Jenny's lower back, smiling at the sound of her high-pitched squeals as she soared skyward, his heart filled with regret. Johnny wondered if he would ever know the joys of fatherhood. Would he ever have his own house and family? Had he and Lily not lost six years of their lives together, he might be pushing his own dark-haired daughter on a tire swing in his own backyard by now. As he continued to keep the swing going for his surrogate niece, his thoughts drifted across town. He wondered how Lily and Iris were handling their reunion. Thoughts of the two Campbell ladies were never far from his mind throughout the rest of the evening.

When he finally turned off the bedside lamp, he rolled over onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes. The bed springs squeaked, a sound that was strangely comforting and familiar to him. The last thoughts that flitted through his mind before he succumbed to sleep were about Lily. She had agreed to return to Selma with him for the trial. Perhaps the small Alabama town, the place that had taken so much away from them, would be the perfect place to give them a fresh start.

E!

Lily kissed her mother's cheek, then padded down the hallway to her bedroom. This would be the second night she would spend in her childhood bedroom. As she pulled back the covers, her eyes fell on th photograph taken over ten years earlier. It was a picture of her standing between her mother and Johnny taken along Dallas Avenue, in Selma. At the time, she had wondered why her mother had asked Kizzy to take the photograph in that particular spot. Years later, she had learned that the white Victorian-style house in the distant background belonged to her maternal grandparents.

Lily picked up the frame, running her fingers along the edge, near Johnny's boyish face. She closed her eyes, allowing the memory of the scent of early blooming azaleas and daylilies tickle her nose. She remembered standing beside a small camellia bush, the pink blooms already fading on the winter- blooming shrub, but her mother had insisted that the three of them stand near it for the photograph.

Lily kept her eyes closed, wanting to relive that moment. It was a happier time for all of them, before Phillip's death. Kizzy smiled boldly as she snapped the photograph, ignoring the derogatory shout of a young man passing by in a navy blue car. She felt Johnny squeezing her hand, a symbolic gesture of protecting her. That was the day she learned what the word 'mulatto' meant. She recalled her paternal grandmother, offering her a big white-toothed smile as she explained that it meant being of mixed race. Lily had looked over at her new friend, Johnny, and saw him give her a flirtatious wink.

"It means you get the best that both races have to offer," Johnny had said to her, having heard something similar from his own parents, years earlier.

Lily opened her eyes, looking back down at the picture. "Oh, Johnny," she whispered in the dimly lit room. "I still love you, more than anything."

She touched her fingers to her mouth, then gently pressed them against the glass of the frame, completely covering his face. Maybe one day soon, he would want to rekindle their romance. But he had asked to take it slowly, and so, she would give him the space he needed. She thought about how lucky she was that he had remained single all these years. As difficult as it would be, she would refrain from contacting him. He knew where she was and how to reach her. She would wait until he was ready.

She reached to her left, clicking off her lamp, then snuggling between the covers. "Good night, Johnny," she whispered into the darkness, then closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

E!

The following morning, Johnny kissed Joanne on the cheek, thanking her for allowing him to stay with them for the last two days.

Joanne noticed how the light seemed to have returned to his eyes. He also had more color in his cheeks, giving his face a healthier glow. "Oh, Johnny, you know that room is yours any time you need it," she replied.

"I know... And I really appreciate it, Jo." He shifted his eyes to his partner. "Ready to go?"

"Ah, yea, sure." Roy looked over at his beautiful wife. "I'll be back in a little while."

Joanne waited for the men to drive away from the house, then quickly ran to the telephone. She dialed the familiar number, glad when her call was answered.

"Iris? They're on their way… um, I need to tell you something, but please don't let Johnny know I told you."

Iris felt her heart flutter. "O-okay."

Joanne spoke quickly, knowing that they didn't have much time. Johnny's apartment wasn't very far from the DeSotos' neighborhood, but there was so much that Iris needed to know, and she was in the best position to help the troubled young man they all loved.

"I was… so afraid of something… like this." Iris was struggling to push her words past the lump in her throat.

"I know you're there getting things ready for him, but… Will you just look around; see if you see any old prescriptions or… or anything that he might use… you know, if things get really bad?"

"Lily's cleaning his bathroom right now, but I'll check in his bedroom. If he has any pills, they'll likely be near his bed… Um, what should I do with them?" Iris asked, feeling a sense of urgency.

"Take them, Iris. He isn't injured now, so he shouldn't need anything for pain. I just," Joanne bit her bottom lip, her green eyes becoming misty. "I've heard Roy talking about all these kids who… who get hooked on drugs after just one try and… and even though Johnny didn't mean to take it… Iris, if he's as depressed as Roy says he is… then…"

"Don't say it, Joanne… I can't… I can't even think about it right now… It's too… awful."

"Then you'll do it? You'll take his pills with you when you leave? Just for a few days, okay?"

"Yes, of course I will… I… I'll do whatever I can to protect him," Iris replied.

E!

The drive to Johnny's apartment was made in silence. Neither man knew what to say to the other. Roy pulled the small gold-colored car into an empty guest parking space. He saw Johnny's eyes light up when he saw the dingy white Rover a few spaces over.

"See... She's still here," Roy offered, engaging the parking break.

"Yea," Johnny said, feeling his chest tighten. He had truly thought he would never see it again, yet, here it was... and it still belonged to him.

The dark-haired man walked over to the vehicle, his most prized possession, and ran his hands across the hood on his way to his apartment. He patted it lovingly, as if the vehicle were a treasured pet.

Roy smiled wistfully. He had always known how much Johnny loved his vehicle, but knowing that he was to have been the recipient of the Rover actually made his breath hitch. Johnny would only entrust his Rover to his best friend. He pinched the bridge of his nose, following his lanky partner up the sidewalk and the stairway, heading for Johnny's second floor apartment.

Johnny dug into his pants pocket, remembering that he no longer had his keys. He had given his keyring to Iris to be returned to his landlady. "Ahhh, no!" Johnny groused, lightly slapping the door. "I don't have a key, anymore."

Roy grinned, raising his hand to knock on the door. He knew something that Johnny didn't.

Suddenly, the door flew open, leaving Roy's hand suspended in mid-air.

"Johnny... You're home!"

"I-Iris?" Johnny stammered, looking back at his partner. "How'd..."

"I called her yesterday, when you were swinging Jenny. I knew you didn't have a key and..." Roy snickered. "And I didn't want to hand over mine to you. I never know when I might need it," he said with a grin.

Iris held up the key ring, jingling it in front of Johnny's excited brown eyes. "And here you go," she said, stepping out of the way so the men could enter.

Johnny walked in, sniffing the curious combination of lemons and ammonia mixed with tomatoes and garlic. "Mmm," he moaned.

"Lily cleaned up your apartment while I made lasagna, salad, and garlic bread. It'll all be ready in about ten minutes, but," she looked up at the wall clock. "It's kind of early, but it reheats well," she said walking back into the kitchen.

"This partner of mine can eat anytime," Roy joked, nodding his head in Johnny's direction, hoping the younger man's appetite had truly returned to normal.

Johnny didn't hear much after his ears heard the melodious sound of Lily's name. He looked down the hallway, hearing bumping sounds and water running in his bathroom. "Is... she still here?"

"Yes," Iris replied, spreading the garlic butter across the French bread she had spread out on a baking sheet on his small kitchen table. "Don't worry; we're heading out in just a minute. We know you need to rest and... You need your space, too." She recalled Lily's worry about Johnny wanting to take things slowly, but Iris understood his reasons, and she was actually grateful for the extra time she was getting to spend with her daughter.

The bathroom door opened and Lily exited, carrying a bucket with cleaning supplies in it. "Oh," she said, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "I didn't know you were here already."

"No... It's, ah... It's fine, Lily. It's, um... It's good to see you again."

Lily grinned sheepishly, walking past him to return the cleaning bucket beneath the sink.

"Oh," Johnny began, silently kicking himself for his rudeness. "I really appreciate... all this," he said, spreading his arms out around the room. "Everything."

Iris smiled, turning off the oven and returning the oven mitts to the tiny hook on the wall. "You're so welcome, Johnny. It's the least we could do. Now," she said, walking towards him. "The lasagna will continue to cook for a few more minutes and it'll stay warm for a couple of hours as long as you leave the oven door closed. The salad is in the fridge, and just stick the bread in the oven for a few minutes before you're ready to eat."

"Wow," the thin paramedic said, his trademark grin lighting up his face. "Thank you... thank you both."

Iris kissed him lightly on the cheek, then turned back to Lily. "Ready to go home?"

Lily locked eyes with Johnny for a brief moment, wanting to show him the same kind of affection her mother had, but she didn't dare. Instead, she offered him a quick smile, then followed Iris towards the door.

Johnny's chin hung open slightly, his face following the ladies as they headed for the door. "Call me if you need anything, Johnny, okay?" Iris called over her shoulder, securing her purse, and its stolen contents, on her shoulder. She would only keep them for a few days, just until this crisis was over.

"Um, yea... yea, thanks. I will."

Roy waited for the door to close behind the Campbell ladies, then reached over and used his fingers to lift Johnny's chin until his mouth closed. "You're hopeless, you know that, Junior?"

Johnny's eyebrow quirked in Roy's direction. "Huh? Whatcha mean, I'm hopeless?"

"She's crazy about you, and you can't even speak directly to her."

"Who? L-Lily?"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Yes... L-Lily," he chuckled, mimicking Johnny's stutter. It was obvious that he was smitten, more so than Roy had even imagined.

"Oh, yea... Well, we're jus', ya know... takin' things slowly."

"If you take them any slower, I'm gonna have to ask Crockett to draw a chalk outline around you just to see if you're moving!"

"ROY!" Johnny said in a raised voice, dropping his keys in the wooden bowl on the table in the foyer.

Both men laughed, enjoying the mental release after the intensity of the last few days.

"Man, my apartment has never smelled so good," Johnny said, inhaling deeply.

"It's amazing what the touch of a woman can do," Roy agreed.

Johnny waggled his eyebrows knowingly at his friend. "Do I need to babysit for you and Jo? I doubt you've enjoyed the touch of a woman in a few days, am I right?"

Roy picked up one of Johnny's sofa pillows, throwing it at his partner. Both men laughed once more, then settled down in Johnny's living room. Silence blanketed the entire residence, making the air thick.

"Roy... I really do appreciate all you've done for me." Johnny seemed to be examining his hands as he struggled to say what was on his heart. "I, ah... I don't know what would've happened... if you hadn't... you know, been there for me. I'd... I'd prob'ly be dead."

"You'd have done the same for me. You DID do the same for me," Roy spoke softly, his blue eyes piercing his partner.

"Nah... You, ah... you saved my life, man. I jus' helped you save your marriage."

"Same thing," Roy shot back.

Johnny leaned back in his chair, offering Roy a slight nod. "Yea... guess it kinda is, huh?"

"Family... all kinds of family... It's what makes life worth living," Roy commented, hoping to use his comment as a segue to a more serious subject.

"Ahem," Johnny coughed into his closed fist. "Yea... I, ah... I'd like for you to, um... to take my pistol back to your house... please?" Johnny looked up, his brown eyes holding hope that his partner would understand his request.

Roy nodded in agreement, unable to push his words around the boulder that seemed to have lodged in his throat.

Johnny felt his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "It's not... not for me, Roy. I jus'... Well, I don't wanna worry you, you know? If you have it, then... You'll know I'm not gonna... you know."

Roy searched Johnny's face, looking for any hint of deception. He could read his partner like a book, and right now, he wanted to know exactly what was going through the mind of the younger man. What he saw was genuine sincerity.

"Alright... Sure, I'll take it. And I'll leave the ammunition here, 'cause I don't want to have it at my house... You know, the kids and all."

Johnny looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up at Roy. "It's never even been out o' the case, not since I bought it from that pawn shop. The owner had a shooting range behind the building. I fired off one round, jus' to make sure it would shoot, then put it back in the case - empty. The bullets are still… still in a sealed box. So… no worries there, pally."

"It still amazes me that you own a weapon, Johnny," Roy said, his blue eyes curious. There was still so much about his partner that he didn't know.

"Why? 'Cause I should be shootin' a bow and arrow, leavin' the guns to the cowboys?" he questioned, his left cheek tugging slightly upwards.

Roy never cracked a smile, unsure of what his partner had meant by his comment.

"Lighten up, Roy… It was jus' a joke."

Roy offered him a slight smile; perhaps Johnny was returning to his old self after all. "Yea, yea… okay."

Johnny grinned, slapping his jean-clad thighs with his hands. "Okay, well then it's settled. I'll go get it." Johnny started down the hallway. "Hey, Roy? See if Iris made a pitcher of sweet tea, will ya? It'll go great with the lasagna for our lunch."

Roy walked over to the refrigerator, snagging a paper towel off the roll as he walked by. He dried the corners of his eyes, hoping that Johnny wouldn't know how emotional the entire exchange had made him. He tossed the paper towel in the trash can, then pulled open the refrigerator door. A wide smile crossed his face.

"Hey, Johnny?" he called out, knowing that his partner could hear him in the tiny apartment. "She made more than sweet tea."

"Huh?" Johnny questioned, lumbering down the short hallway with the pistol case in his hand.

"She made an old fashioned peach cobbler, too."

Johnny's grin lit up his expressive face once more. "Well, a'right! Let's eat!"

E!

Roy felt a sense of relief as he drove his Porsche down the 405, the wind whipping through his thinning red hair. The antique pistol case was resting on the passenger's side floor. Before he had left Johnny's apartment, his partner had scheduled his first appointment with Dr. Robertson, and he had made arrangements for a physical with Dr. Brackett in a few days. With all the food Joanne and Iris had prepared for him, he was confident that Johnny would be ready to return to shift by next week.

He turned into his driveway, parking the little sports car behind Joanne's vehicle. He reached down, removing the case from the floorboard, hearing an odd plunking sound coming from inside the case as he walked into the garage. He unlocked his toolbox, tucking the case safely inside. He hesitated for a moment, something just didn't seem right to him. His fingers wrapped around the handle, preparing to open the wooden case, when Joanne's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Roy? How'd it go?" she asked, standing in the doorway between the garage and the kitchen.

He closed the toolbox, ensuring that it was locked for the sake of the children. His mind had been on his wife ever since Johnny had waggled his eyebrows, suggestively. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed the sensuous touch of his loving wife. He glanced at his watch, noting that it was only half past noon. They had plenty of time for a little romance before the kids got home from school.

E!

Later that evening, as the moonbeams peeked around the edge of the bedroom curtains fluttering in the breeze of the open window, trembling fingers ran down the barrel of the antique pistol. Guns made it too easy to end the suffering. The loud noise would never even make it to the victim's ears before the penetrating lead took his life, ending the decade-long turmoil. There would be no pain, the loss of consciousness would be instantaneous. Images of Johnny lying across his bed, blood running down his face and neck from the single gunshot wound to his temple, became overwhelming. The mental picture of his dark hair matted with his own maroon-colored blood and his fingers growing ghostly white as the life seeped out of him, the dark pool of blood growing on the bedspread, seemed too real. His very existence would quickly fade away until his heart ceased to beat, effectively ending the blood flow; the light in his chocolate brown eyes faded away like the mist along the Alabama River on that early fateful morning. With eyes squeezing shut, the horrific images were forced back into their hiding place. The pistol was carefully tucked away inside the nightstand and the lamplight was extinguished with a click... 'Not tonight, Johnny, not tonight.'