It had been almost eight weeks now, eight long weeks. It had seemed forever since John Gage had reported for duty. To him, anyway, it seemed like forever.

Station 51 looked just as it had the last time he'd driven up to it, not that he'd expected it to change any. It never did when he was out for an injury. In many ways, that was a comforting thought. Some things should never change, while other things . . .

Glancing around the back lot, he let out a sigh of relief, noting that the rest of the crew was already inside. For once, he'd actually planned it that way. He pulled into his regular parking spot, next to his partner's little foreign car. Yes, some things should never change.

Roy DeSoto had come in a few minutes earlier that morning hoping to get a chance to talk to his partner before their shift started. Except by telephone, it had been almost a month since they'd last talked. Johnny had opted to spend the remainder of his recuperation at his parent's home on the ranch. Initially, Roy was disappointed that John had decided to leave town, but he'd understood his partner's reasoning. He wasn't sure he could have handled being stuck at home by himself either. At least he had Joanne and the kids to keep him company, and to help him if he needed it.

Sneaking through the back bay doors, John was hoping to duck quietly into the locker room without being noticed. With a little bit of good timing, he'd step into line just as Captain Stanley began roll call, and, if his luck held out, the squad would get a run immediately after, sending the two paramedics on their way.

So far, so good. . .he'd made it to the locker room and no one was in sight. Through the locker room doors, he could hear the voices of the other firemen filtering in from the next room.

'Quietly, Gage, quietly. You're almost there. . .' Just as he reached into his locker, a slap on his back nearly caused him to drop the T-shirt he was holding in his hands. "GEEZ, Roy! Scare a person to death, why don't cha'!"

Roy had walked around Johnny to sit on the bench in front of the lockers, snickering all the while. "Well, Partner, if you'd have been a little earlier and not quite so anti-social, you could have joined us for a few minutes. Everyone's anxious to welcome you back."
Johnny kept his back to Roy as much as he'd dared, pulling his T-shirt over his head, and grabbing a crisp blue uniform shirt from its hanger.

"You okay, Johnny?" Roy asked, a little concerned over his partner's apparent reserve.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why don't you go on out, I'll join you guys for roll call," John answered, still with his back to his partner. "I'll be there in a sec."
"John?" Roy put his hand on Johnny's shoulder, with obvious concern in his voice. Maybe his partner wasn't ready to return to work just yet.

Sighing, Johnny slowly turned to face his partner, dreading the inevitable. Before Roy could say another word, Cap's voice boomed from the bay area.

"DeSoto! GAGE! Would you two like to join roll call this morning?" Cap bellowed in his best authoritative tone.

"Coming!" they yelled in unison.

Roy scooted out the side door leading into the apparatus bay. Johnny was right on his heels, trying to meld into the other man's shadow. The other guys of A-shift were already standing in line as the two latecomers fell into place.

Calling their names one by one, as standard regulations called for, the men answered in turn, in between muffled giggles and chuckling.

Never looking up from his clipboard, Cap could tell without looking who was producing the most noise. "Kelly? You enjoy the way I do roll call?" Cap questioned the one man responsible for the majority of the ruckus.

"Ah, yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir. I mean, ah, sorry, Cap," Chet stammered, quieting down under protest.

"Good, I think. Now. . .Gage? Welcome back, Johnny, it's. . ." Cap started to speak, but stopped abruptly when he glanced up at his prodigal paramedic come home. Frozen in mid-sentence, he finally understood what all the commotion had been about, trying desperately to contain himself at the same time. He squinted and looked closer at John Gage's vain attempt to hide his newest feature."A moustache?" Cap exclaimed.

That was all it took for the rest of the men to break their imposed silence. Marco Lopez and Chet Kelly were nearly doubled over with laughter. Roy was turning red from trying to hold in the biggest laugh he'd ever felt coming on, trying valiantly not to embarrass his partner any more than he knew he already was. Even Mike Stoker was grinning from ear to ear, and Cap. . .he was trying his best to maintain a little bit of dignity under the circumstances.

It wasn't that the new growth of dark hair on Johnny's upper lip was so outrageous to look at, it was just that Cap, and the rest of the men apparently, were not prepared for Johnny's new 'look'. When Chet and Marco had decided to grow their moustaches, the men at the station had the chance to watch them develop over a period of time. Johnny's newest acquisition was sprung on them unexpectedly, and it was this simple fact that amused them to no end, even though it was at poor Johnny's expense.

"Yeah!" Johnny defended himself. "It's not against department regulations...obviously," nodding in Chet and Marco's direction.

"Well," Cap cleared his throat. "As I was saying, John, it's nice to have you back. Kelly, Lopez," he turned to Chet and Marco, who were trying, unsuccessfully, to gain control of themselves. "You think we could continue now?"

"Sure Cap," Marco replied, clearing his own throat, speaking for both himself and Chet.

Captain Stanley continued with the morning ritual of doling out duties for the shift while trying to ignore the continued muffled chuckles from his crew. He just wanted to retire to his office where he could finally hide behind closed doors, and let out his own laughter that was building inside.

With Cap out of the room, Johnny stood before the rest of the men, who were screwing their faces, trying hard not to laugh in the face of their colleague.With hands resting on his hips, Johnny frowned as he asked them defiantly, "What?"

"Oh nothing, Gage," Chet started, "it's just that. . ."

"Just what?" John demanded to know.

"Well, I knew you secretly admired me, Gage, but I had NO idea!" Chet made a beeline for the kitchen, laughing all the way, before the paramedic could respond.

"Nothing, John, nothing." Marco followed Chet, trying a little harder than his friend to stifle his laughter.

"Mike?" Johnny addressed Stoker.

"I like it," Stoker stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, at least some one around this place has good taste!" Johnny called out, loudly enough to be heard by the recently departed Chet and Marco.

"Yeah," Mike continued, as he turned to leave as calmly as he did everything else. "It reminds me of a Schnauzer I used to have when I was a kid."

John's eyes widened at the departing Stoker. "MIKE!" Mike Stoker chuckled quietly to himself. "WELL?" Johnny turned to the last remaining fireman, his partner, and, he hoped, his one ally.

Roy cleared his throat, hoping something brilliant would come to mind before he had to open his mouth to respond.

Thank God! Roy thought. Saved by the Bells!

Their first call for the day took the two paramedics out onto a dirt road near some cliffs. Roy pulled the squad up to the point in the road where dispatch had directed them. Neither of the men could see any evidence of a victim.

"What do you think, Roy? False alarm?" Johnny asked as he peered out the window looking for signs of anyone.

"I don't know, this is the intersection that dispatch gave us. Maybe it's farther down the road. Sometimes people get their directions messed up when they're panicked," Roy reasoned.

"Well, I say call it in to verify," Johnny suggested. He started to reach for the mic when he took one last look around the area. Pointing to a side road, he motioned to Roy. "Why don't you pull down that dirt road a bit, maybe there's something down there."

Roy nodded in agreement. He put the squad into drive, and started to turn onto the road, just as a man came running down that very dirt road. His flailing arms were directed at the squad, and he was yelling at the top of his lungs."Stop! Don't leave!" he yelled at the two men in the squad.

Johnny jumped out of the squad and met the man before he could reach them. He grabbed the man by the shoulders as he asked, "Are you alright?" The man seemed ready to collapse.

"Yes, yes, it's not me," huffed the exhausted man. "It's those darn boys! I told them to stay out of there! I told them! They just don't listen. And now THIS!"

"Sir, calm down!" Johnny implored. "Now tell me what happened."Johnny led the man over to the squad, still supporting him with one arm, and the two of them climbed into the front seat with Roy.

The man, who introduced himself as Frank Wilson, spelled out the situation to the two paramedics, as he directed Roy back down the dirt road. Frank told them that he owned a cabin nearby and often went fishing near the entrance of a small cave nestled into the side of the cliffs. Over the last few weeks, he had noticed three young boys playing in and around this same cave. He had chased them off several times, but the determined young boys returned, time and again.

Today, he was fishing and just as he'd seen them before, there they were, near the entrance of the cave. This time there were only two boys, and they were yelling and screaming for help. When Frank went over to investigate, the two boys told him that their friend was trapped in the cave. That was when Frank ran back to his cabin and called for the fire department.

"I just knew one day this would happen," Frank lamented. "I should have called their parents. Maybe that would have stopped them from going back there."

When the squad pulled up to the side of the road, the men jumped out of the cab. The two paramedics grabbed their equipment, along with two flashlights and a coil of rope, then the three men hiked the short distance to the cave.

"Well, we'll take care of it now, Frank, just sit tight and maybe you can see what you can do about finding the boy's parents. If he's injured, we'll need parental permission," Roy told him in his low-key, professional voice.

"Oh I've already done that," Frank told them, "when I called you. His mother is at work, but she'll be here as soon as she can."

"Okay then, you just sit tight," Roy restated "What's the boy name?"

"Tommy. The boy in the cave is Tommy." Frank's breathing was becoming more relaxed with the thought that help was finally here.

"Okay, Frank, we'll get Tommy out safe and sound. Meanwhile why don't you go over and reassure his friends over there," Roy instructed, pointing over to two very worried-looking young men.

While Roy was talking to Frank, Johnny had taken a quick walk over to check out the cave. He headed towards the two men on his way back to the squad. Johnny gave Frank a quick reassuring smile and a nod as they passed, while Frank took his assigned place by the other two boys' sides.

"Roy? We'd better call for backup. Meanwhile, I'll take a look and see what I can do." Johnny told his partner.

Roy grabbed the HT and radioed L.A. dispatch to request an engine unit for backup. Johnny tied himself off with one end of the rope, and with a flash of a grin at the worried boys and grown man, gave a 'thumbs up' and entered the cave.

"Need some help in there, Johnny?" Roy asked as his partner passed through the opening of the cave.

"No. . .I don't think there's room, Roy. It's pretty tight quarters in here. If I need anything, I'll holler." Johnny's voice was slightly muffled as he called back to Roy from inside the cave.

The narrow quarters of the cave made it seem more like a dark, dusty hallway. The roof was no more than four feet high, preventing Johnny from straightening to his full height. Flashing the beam of light around the cramped perimeter of the cave, he could not tell how stable the walls were. He hoped they were stable enough to stay put, at least until he got the boy and got the heck out of there.

"Tommy?" he called out cautiously. "Tommy, can you hear me?" Thinking he heard a slight shuffle, Johnny ventured into the cave a few more feet, crouching as he went. "Tommy?"

"In here!" a small voice sniveled.

Johnny twirled the flashlight around in a circular motion until the beam landed on a large worm-like hole several feet directly in front of him, towards the back of the cave. The ceiling height had lowered to three feet at that location. He dropped to his knees and crawled over the dusty floor of the cave to the opening he had found. "Tommy, you in there?" The shaft of light hit the bottoms of a pair of very dirty sneakers. "Tommy, that you?"

"Yeah." The boy sounded unsure of himself, and very frightened.

"Okay, hang on, I'll be right with ya'. You okay in there?" Johnny knew he had to keep his voice as calm and soothing as possible to keep the boy still. He had no idea how solid the walls were where the boy was trapped.

"Oh, I'm okay, I guess," the boy answered.

Johnny smiled. Even in the direst of circumstances, some boys did not like to admit when they were frightened, or hurt.

"Well, good, glad to hear it. But Tommy, I need to know if you're hurt before I try to get you out of here." Johnny pushed for confirmation.

"No, but I'm stuck! And my name's not Tommy. That's what my mom calls me. My name is Tom."

Smiling again, Johnny answered. "Well, Tom, my name is Johnny, and I gave up a long time ago on people changing to just 'John'."

There was a short pause before Tommy answered. "Well, okay, you can call me Tommy then."

"Okay, Tommy, I need to know, how badly are you stuck?"

"My hand's caught in front of me in some rocks that came down."

"Can you move your fingers?"

"I could if they weren't buried in all this dirt!" The frustration in Tommy's voice was coming through loud and clear. He sounded more irritated than hurt at this point, much to Johnny's relief.

"Okay then, Tommy, I need to go out for a minute and talk to my partner, but I'll be right back okay? I'll leave the flashlight sitting right here so you have some light."

Suddenly afraid of being left alone again, Tommy asked hesitantly, "You'll be right back?"

"You bet, just hang tight," Johnny reassured his young victim. He backed his way out of the cave to his waiting partner on the outside. "I think I can get him out, Roy. I just need something to dig away some loose rocks." He brushed some of the dust out of his hair as Roy ran to the squad to retrieve a small pry bar. By the time he got back, Johnny had already donned his gloves and was ready to reenter the cave. He slipped the pry bar under his belt, and knelt down to climb back into the cave, and to Tommy.

"You came back!" Tommy sounded relieved.

"You bet! I always keep my word," Johnny said cheerfully.

The opening to the worm-like hole was small, but once Johnny got inside, he found there was a bit more room in which to maneuver. With the flashlight and pry bar out in front of him, he wriggled his way in next to the boy. Sure enough, the boy's hand was positioned directly in front of him, buried in small loose rocks.

"Hey, Tommy, still doin' okay?" The light was shining straight towards the rocks in front of them, so the two in the cave couldn't see each other clearly.

"The same as the last time you asked," Tommy answered sarcastically, but a small laugh escaped his lips.

Johnny stretched out his arms straight ahead with the pry bar in his hands and started to dig slowly at the loose rocks. "Close your eyes, Tommy, so the dust doesn't get in them," Johnny instructed.

In the cramped space, their faces were nearly touching. Suddenly, Tommy let out a loud whoop and started struggling against Johnny's body.

"Whoa, whoa there, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Johnny stopped his digging immediately. His eyes grew wide at the thought that he'd hurt the boy.

"NO!" Tommy screamed. "There's something in here!"

"Calm down. Calm DOWN!" Johnny commanded. Loose dirt and small debris started to rain down on the duo. He was unable to drop his arm to his sides to calm the boy due to the close quarters that they were sharing.

"There's something in here!" Tommy screamed in Johnny's ear.

"Tommy, calm DOWN! There's no one in here but you and me!" Johnny was trying to still the squirming boy lying so close to him.

"A RAT!" Tommy screamed again. "I feel a RAT!"

Johnny knew, first of all, that any creature would have been scared away by now. Secondly, he knew there was no room for even a feather between the two of them, much less a rat."Calm down, Tommy, calm down. You're gonna bring the whole cave down on us if you keep struggling like that." Johnny tried to calm his voice as he spoke. He had worked up a sweat as a direct result of the cramped quarters of the cavity that they were jammed into, the effort it took to move the rocks at that awkward angle, and the possibility of being trapped in this cave. He could feel the boy's heated breath on his face.

"But, I feel it!" insisted Tommy, still screaming in Johnny's ear. "Its gonna eat my FACE!"

Suddenly, it dawned on Johnny. "Tommy," he sighed, "it's not a rat. It's probably just my moustache you feel."

Tommy finally stopped thrashing around. "You have a moustache?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, I have a moustache," Johnny said plainly.

Tommy slowly and deliberately worked his free hand up to Johnny's face and felt the bushy growth of hair on his rescuer. "Oh," the boy said sheepishly.

Meanwhile, outside the cave, Roy had heard the screaming boy and scrambled through the opening, pausing for a moment just inside the entrance, listening for further signs of trouble. Armed with the squad's second flashlight in hand, he began to follow Johnny's rope, fearing what he might find.
 

"Johnny?" he called out worriedly, shining the flashlight into the hole where his partner's feet were barely visible. "You alright in there?"

"Yeah! Yeah, we're fine." Johnny assured Roy, rolling his eyes.With the 'rat' mystery solved, Johnny set about the task of freeing Tommy's hand. It didn't take much to knock away the already loose rocks this time. When he felt the boy's arm come free, he slowly backed out of the hole, his hands wrapped around Tommy's ankles, as he guided him to safety.

Once outside the cave, Roy canceled the backup they had requested, and a very dirty Tommy was checked over for any cuts or breaks. Luckily, the only thing that seemed to have suffered was his pride, from being stuck in the cave in the first place.

Just as Roy and Johnny finished checking over their patient, a hysterical woman came running down the path towards them."TOMMY!" his mother screamed.

Roy intercepted the boy's mother, reassuring her that her son was safe and sound.
"You might want to talk to him about the dangers of these caves, though. I'd also advise taking him to your private physician, just to check him out."

"Oh we will," Tommy's mother assured Roy. "I'm taking him straight over to his father."
At Roy's perplexed look, she explained, "My husband is a doctor."

Wincing, Roy was glad he was not in Tommy's shoes. As boy and mother started to leave, Tommy came over to Johnny, one finger motioning him to come closer. Johnny leaned in close to the boy.

"Um, we don't have to tell anyone about, um, you know, do we?" Tommy asked.

Knowing exactly what Tommy was talking about, Johnny reassured him, "Don't worry, Kiddo, I won't tell if you won't." Sending him off with a smile and a handshake, he turned to see Roy standing behind him, with a smile forming on his face.

"What was that all about?" Roy asked.

"Oh, nothin'," Johnny answered nonchalantly. He leaned over and brushed the loose dirt from his hair, causing a slight dust storm.

"Uh, huh," answered his partner. "Maybe you can tell me then, what that panic attack was all about inside the cave." Roy knew Johnny was hiding something and he was bound and determined to find out what it was.

"Nothin'! I told ya' already! Now let's get out of here," Johnny sputtered.

The morning was already half over by the time they had finished with the boy and the mother and repacked everything back into the squad. Johnny was anxious to get back to the station to get cleaned up, but Roy wasn't turning the key to start the engine.
"WHAT?" Johnny asked in exasperation.

"Oh, I was just wondering how I was going to put this in the report," Roy goaded.

"What do you mean?" Johnny frowned.
"Oh you know. Boy screamed, for unknown reason, while my partner was inside the cave with him. . ." Roy was having fun with this, judging from the smirk on his face.

"Oh alright!' Johnny gave up.

"Well?" Roy pushed. He knew this must be good if his partner was so adamant to keep it to himself.

Sighing and shaking his head, Johnny simply said, "He thought he felt something."

"Something?" Roy pushed again.

Rolling his eyes, Johnny blurted out, "Yeah, he thought he felt a rat, alright? A rat. But it was. . .it was just my moustache! All right? Happy now?"

Bursting out in laughter, Roy shook his head as he finally turned the engine over, "Oh yeah, now I'm happy."

"Oh man," Johnny groaned to himself, then turned to Roy quickly, as he ordered, "Not one word about this, not ONE!" He held up one finger to emphasize. He wasn't sure if Roy promised, in between snickers, or not, but he had to trust in him.

Back at the station, Johnny and Roy walked into the break room. Marco and Mike were sitting at the table engrossed in the newspaper, while Chet was finishing cleaning up his kitchen duties. Johnny sauntered over to the refrigerator and opened the door, hanging on it as he stared into its vast nothingness, hoping some culinary delight would manifest itself in front of his eyes.

"Hey Gage, what are you trying to do? Air-condition the whole station house?" Chet yelled from the sink, hanging up the cloth he'd been using to dry dishes.

"I'm hungry!" Johnny shot back.

"Yeah, well, from the looks of you, you ate enough dirt to fill you up for the rest of the day. Oh, wait a minute, that's not dirt, that's your moustache!"

"Ha, ha," muttered Johnny.

"Easy mistake to make, Gage." Chet then turned his attention to the other paramedic, asking in all sincerity, "Tough rescue, Roy?"

"No, not really. Just got a little 'hairy' for a minute for Johnny and the victim." Roy chuckled. Johnny swung around in a flash, his dark eyes trained on Roy.

"Oh yeah?" Chet was definitely interested now, especially with the way Johnny reacted. The other two took a break from their reading, definitely interested in Roy's comment as well.

Though he tried his best to avoid his partner's gaze, Roy could feel Johnny watching from the other side of the room. Clearing his throat, he turned away from Johnny's glaring eyes and told Chet quite simply, "Um, yeah, the boy freaked about the tight quarters he was in, that's all." Roy shrugged his shoulders and grinned, but Chet was not buying it. He knew there had to be more to the story.

Once Johnny felt confident enough that Roy was not going to betray his confidence, he slammed the refrigerator door, a little too loudly, and announced, "I'm gonna go clean up." He still felt the grit in his hair, not to mention in his teeth, and wanted a fresh change of clothes as well.

With the topic-in-question out of the room, Chet took the opportunity to needle Roy, "Come on, Roy, give. What really happened?"

Chet never found out whether Roy would open his mouth or not, because the engine was called out for a rubbish fire. The engine crew scrambled, and in seconds, they were gone.

Left alone in the break room, Roy decided to give his partner time to finish his shower before he sought him out. Fiddling around, he picked up where Chet left off with his kitchen duties. He knew he didn't have to do this, but it was the surest way to kill a few minutes.

Running out of things to do, Roy glanced at his watch, figuring that Johnny should be out of the shower, and he headed out across the apparatus bay. He knew he needed to make things right with his partner. Johnny was standing in front of his locker, damp towel wrapped around his waist, and his dark hair still dripping. Roy leaned against the wall and folded his arms, waiting for his chance to say something. Johnny glanced up when he realized Roy was standing there, though he chose to ignore him as he changed into his clean uniform. He was just glad to have had a few minutes to scrub off that cave dirt.

"I wasn't going to tell him, you know." Roy was afraid he'd angered Johnny, and it was early in their shift yet. Best to make nice now, before Johnny went off on one of his tangents.

"Huh?" Johnny answered distractedly.

"I said, I wasn't going to tell Chet about that boy in the cave," Roy clarified.

"Oh," Johnny stated matter-of-factly, wearing a crooked grin, "I knew that." He tossed the damp towel mischievously at his partner, buttoned his shirt, and left Roy standing alone in the room, with only the look of astonishment on his face to keep him company.
Minutes later, the squad was called out on another 'child trapped' call.

There was no answer at the door when Roy knocked. Johnny set the drug box down on the porch, walked over to a front window, and peeked inside to see if he could get a glimpse of anyone in the house.

"Here we go again," Johnny shrugged. "Think this is the right address?"

Roy knocked harder on the door, which produced a muffled sound from somewhere inside. As he started to turn the handle, the door opened, everso slowly. There, on the other side, was a wide-eyed little girl standing in front of them.

"Well, hi, Sweetheart, is your mommy home?" Roy asked the timid child.

The little girl simply nodded her head, her blue eyes still wider than saucers."Tammy? Is that the fire department?" They heard a woman's voice coming from another part of the house.

"Yes, Ma'am, we're with the fire department!" Roy called in through the door.

"Come in! Quick!" the woman's voice pleaded.The two paramedics quickly regathered their equipment and followed the woman's voice through the living room and down a hallway. Their trek led them into a nursery. There they found a small woman struggling to support a toddler in her arms. She held him at a rather cock-eyed angle, with his left leg weaved between the slats of his crib."Thank God! I thought I was going to be standing here all day!" the woman gasped.

"What happened here?" Roy asked.

"Andy tried to climb out of his crib again and got his leg caught in the slats. I tried to pry it loose, but it's so twisted in there. I was afraid I'd break it if I bent it too much." The woman was still struggling to hold the chunky little toddler upright. "Um, could one of you maybe, hold him for me? My arms are breaking!"

Roy had begun running his hands over the boy's leg, checking for fractures, so Johnny stepped up to relieve the woman from her burden."How old is he, Mrs. . . ?" Roy asked of the mother.

"Mrs. Thomas, and Andy's seventeen months old," the woman supplied.

"Seventeen months?" Roy asked in surprise, noting the size of the child.

"Yes, I know. He's a big boy." The mother smiled at the paramedic's expression. This kind of comment was obviously nothing new to her.

"And he's climbing out of his crib already?" Roy asked with astonishment. Roy's own two had mastered this same act, but not until they were much older.

"He was crawling at six months, walking at nine months, running at ten, and he's been climbing out of that crib for the last month already. I was just in the process of painting a headboard so he could have his own 'big' bed." Mrs. Thomas shook her head in disbelief. "I guess I waited one day too long," she mused.

"Well, I'm afraid we'll have to cut through those slats to free his leg. I don't want to put any more pressure on it than there already is," Roy informed her.

"Anything! There'll be no more cribs in this house anyway!" stated Mrs. Thomas.
The whole time Roy and Mrs. Thomas were talking, Andy was totally fixated on Johnny, or his moustache, to be exact. At first, he tentatively poked at Johnny's upper lip. Next, his grubby little fingers starting grabbing. With Johnny's hands quite full with the boy, he couldn't begin to swat those exploring little fingers away from his face. It was not until Roy left to get a saw that Mrs. Thomas noticed her son's fixation.

"Andy! Leave the nice fireman alone!" she scolded the little boy. "I'm so sorry. I don't think he's ever been this close to someone with a moustache before," she apologized.

"That's okay, Ma'am," Johnny lied, "he's just curious." At that moment, Andy decided to see if the moustache would come off. "Owwww. . . " howled Johnny.

"Andy!" Mrs. Thomas scolded again. "NO!" Andy let go of his prize instantly, but now he looked ready to cry. "Do you want me to take him again?"

"No, that's fine. We'll be okay now, won't we, Andy?" Johnny spoke soothingly so as not to alarm the boy.

Roy quickly made his way back into the house with the handsaw. He wrapped the boy's left leg with a blanket for protection, and carefully sawed through the crib slat. With the obstruction removed, Johnny hoisted the boy up, freeing his leg. Between his naptime bottle, upset over being scolded by his mother, and the jostling from his rescue, it was just too much for the little boy. Andy took that very moment to deposit a good portion of spit-up, all over his rescuer.

"Aaah!" bellowed a wet Johnny.

"Oh my goodness!" cried the mother in alarm. "I'm SO sorry!" She took the boy from the shocked paramedic, and soothed the whimpering toddler.

Johnny ran his hand down his face, wiping off the milky substance that coated his face and the front of his shirt. Roy took in the scene with quiet amusement. After checking the boy, he started to gather up their equipment. Andy seemed to be unharmed by his little adventure, which was more than could be said for Johnny.

"Please, stop by the bathroom on your way out. You can wash up in there, if you want," offered Mrs. Thomas apologetically.

"Thanks, Ma'am, I think I'll take you up on that." Johnny shot Roy a 'don't-you-DARE-say-anything' look as he turned down the hallway.

Back in the squad, Roy felt he had to say something, but remained mindful of his partner's earlier warning look. Hiding the grin that was close to erupting on his face, he settled for, "Just not your day, is it, Partner?"

To Roy's surprise, Johnny started laughing with him. "What can I say? I have a unique way with kids!"

On the way back to the station, Johnny started to worry about the implications of this latest rescue and implored Roy not to say anything to the other guys of his latest little fiasco. While it was really no big deal, this was not the type of information he wanted in the Phantom's hands.

"Don't think I'll have to tell them anything, Partner. One whiff says it all." Roy chuckled, missing the dirty look that Johnny threw in his direction.

Marco happened to be crossing the apparatus bay when the squad returned to the station house, and met the two paramedics as they climbed out of the cab."What happened to you?" Marco asked, directing his comment to Johnny, as he waved his hand in front of his nose.

"Nothin'!" Johnny uttered, and he took off for the locker room in search of his last clean shirt.

"Seems a lot of 'nothing' is happening to Johnny today," Marco remarked to Roy, as Chet came up from behind.

"Now what did Gage get himself into?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, according to him, 'nothing'," Marco answered his question.

"Come on, Roy, what gives?" prodded Chet.

"You heard the man, nothing." Roy was not about to give, so Chet took off for the locker room like a man possessed.

"Geez, Gage! What IS that smell?" Chet was leaning against the side of Johnny's locker when he got a good whiff of the soiled shirt.

"Your cologne, Chet! I borrowed it from your locker," Johnny shot back.

"Funny, Gage, very funny." Chet was more than willing to dish it out but he wasn't thrilled when Gage got a good one on him. Luckily, for Chet, this didn't happen very often.

"So, Gage," Chet continued with his harassment, "what really happened? You got a good look at yourself in the mirror and it made you sick to your stomach, right?"
Johnny was just about to open his mouth in rebuttal when the tones sounded, for the engine only.

"Later, Gage, later. . . " Chet laughed as he exited the locker room, wearing his trademark Cheshire Cat grin.

Being the only two left in the station, the two paramedics finally started their daily chores. Roy grabbed the bucket and mop and headed for the latrine, and Johnny headed for the dorm with the dust mop. Halfway through their assigned chores, the tones sounded for them. . .

"Squad 51, KMG 365"

The call led the two paramedics to a large stately home in one of the nicer neighborhoods with tree-lined streets. By the time they had gotten their equipment from the squad and reached the front door, they were met a woman by who introduced herself as the housekeeper.

She led them into a drawing room where they found a white haired, elderly woman lying on a velvet-covered sofa. Surrounding her were a half dozen cats in varying degrees of indifference. Johnny set his equipment down next to the couch, where a large tabby-colored Persian sleepily looked up at him with obvious apathy, while Roy set the biophone on the far end of the coffee table.

"How are you feeling?" Johnny asked the woman in his usual sooth, calming voice.

"Not very well, I'm afraid, my Dear," answered the woman. She was still dressed in her nightclothes, covered by a soft pink robe that looked like silk.

"Well, I'm John Gage, and this is my partner, Roy DeSoto. We're going to see what we can do to fix that for you," he told her, adding a warm smile. "What's your name?"

"It's Henrietta," the housekeeper spoke up from behind.

"Okay, Henrietta. How exactly do you feel?" Johnny asked of the woman.

"It's Henny, please," she informed the men with a slight smile on her lips. "Henrietta sounds too stodgy. "I feel lightheaded and a little short of breath," she continued. "The doctors have been having a little trouble regulating my blood pressure lately, too."

"You have a history of high blood pressure?" Johnny asked. Henrietta nodded in confirmation.
 

Patting her chest lightly with the palm of her hand, she added, "It feels a little tight right here too."
"Here? In your chest?" Johnny asked with concern, holding his hand to his own chest as he spoke. The elderly woman gave another nod.

"Okay, Henny," Johnny returned a genuine smile. "My partner here is going to be checking your pulse and respiration, and I'm just going to wrap this BP cuff around your arm here."

While Johnny continued to chat with Henny, Roy turned to the housekeeper."Do you know if she's on any medication?" he asked quietly.

The housekeeper shook her head rapidly. "Yes, I can get it for you, if you want," the housekeeper offered.

"Please, if you would."

It only took a few minutes for the housekeeper to return with several containers of prescription medicine. Roy took note of each prescription and jotted down the contents of each bottle.

"BP's 180 over 160," Johnny relayed to his partner. Roy then contacted Rampart, giving them the necessary vitals, and information concerning the prescription medicines.

"10-4, Rampart," Roy responded when Dr. Brackett had given him their instructions. "Johnny, Rampart wants an EKG, want to set it up?"

Johnny nodded once to confirm and dug out the EKG adhesive pads necessary for the procedure. However, just as he started to apply them, the Persian, who had been sitting quietly until now, suddenly jumped up on the couch to be nearer her mistress. The cat's bushy tail brushed against Johnny's cheek, and without thinking he swiped at the cat's hairs tickling his nose. Unfortunately, he still had one of the opened EKG pads in his hand when he made that movement, and caught it on his moustache.
"Great," he mumbled.

Slowly tying to extricate the pad from his face, he soon discovered it was not about to pull loose very easily. Roy looked over at his luckless partner and smiled. "Ah, Johnny. I think those are supposed to go on the patient." Roy chuckled in spite of himself. Both Henny and her housekeeper joined Roy in his amusement over Johnny's predicament.

"I know!" Johnny answered with an infuriated look on his face. He winced slightly as he tried to pull the pad off as carefully as he could. The resulting pain was having a unique effect on his facial features as he tugged and pulled on the stubborn pad.

"Here," Roy spoke up, handing another pad in his partner's direction. Johnny grabbed the pad out of Roy's hand, and proceeded with the task at hand, the original pad still hanging from the edge of his moustache.

"Oh dear," Henny spoke up, once she had composed herself. "That does look like that hurts."

"Don't worry, Ma'am. It doesn't hurt. Tickles maybe, not hurt. Let's just get you taken care of." Johnny smiled his most winning smile in hopes of calming their patient. If he had looked in Roy's direction, he would have seen his partner trying, in vain, to keep a civilized look on his face.

By the time they had transmitted the EKG to the hospital and started the needed IV, the ambulance attendants had arrived. Johnny purposely avoided the perplexed looks of the attendants as they loaded Henny into the ambulance.

"You want to ride in?" Roy asked, working on his best poker face.

"No! I'll drive the squad in!" Johnny glared at Roy's grinning face. He just knew there was no way his partner was going to be able to keep his mouth shut on this one.
As the ambulance took off with Roy and their patient, Johnny remained behind, sitting in the stationary squad. He was still trying to pry off that annoying little piece of adhesive as carefully as he could. Finally, and with a good share of pain, he yanked off the pad.

"OUCH!" he yelled, rubbing his upper lip. He threw the hair-covered pad onto the floor of the squad and made his way to Rampart. "I'm never gonna live this down," he groaned.

"Well, Johnny! Welcome back!" Dixie McCall smiled when she caught sight of one of her favorite paramedics approaching the base station. This was first time the Head Nurse had seen him since he had left the hospital several weeks earlier, and she was genuinely glad to see for herself that he was back on the job.

"Thanks, Dix!" He returned her smile with pleasure.

"Say, Johnny. I hear you had a fight with an adhesive pad. . .and lost," Dixie gleefully noted, when Johnny finally reached the desk where she and Roy had been talking.

"Thanks, Roy," growled Johnny, as he shot his partner a murderous glance.

"Anytime," Roy grinned as he leaned against the base station counter, sipping a cup of coffee.

"So," Dixie continued. "Any casualties?"

"Huh?" Johnny asked in bewilderment. "Casualties?"

"Lose any hairs in the battle?" Dixie clarified, suppressing a smile.

Choosing to ignore her comment, he turned to Roy and asked instead, "How's Henny?"

"Looks like she'll be fine. The doc's keeping her for observation, but with a little adjustment in her blood pressure medication, she'll be able to go home soon enough," Roy answered.

"Good." Johnny nodded his head at the good news. "I'm starved. Let's grab a bite to eat on the way home."

"There's cookies in the lounge if you want them. Someone brought them in this morning," Dixie offered.

Johnny beamed at the mere mention of food. "Thanks, Dix! That ought to hold me till we grab some burgers."

"Johnny, about. . . " Dixie smiled.

Grabbing the supplies, Johnny interrupted her and called out to his partner, "Ready to roll?"

Not about to be ignored, Dixie inserted herself into the conversation again. "I was just going to say, Johnny, I rather like the new you."

Johnny's face broke out in a wide smile for the first time that day. "Oh yeah?"

"Don't encourage him, Dix. He's hard enough to live with the way it is." Roy grabbed the supplies out of Johnny's hands and grabbed his arm, leading him down the hall. "Let's go, Partner."

"But, Roy!" Johnny started to protest. Roy let go of Johnny's arm but placed the palm of his hand against his back, guiding him further down the hall towards the lounge, and the cookies.Dixie sat at her desk, shaking her head and chuckling to herself.

"What'd you pull me out like that for?" Johnny admonished Roy as they headed for the squad parked outside the hospital. Stuffing another cookie in his mouth, he opened the passenger door.

"It's late. We missed lunch. I'm hungry, and. . . " Roy climbed into the driver's seat, wishing they were already back at the station.

"And what?" Johnny pushed, as he jumped into his side of the cab.

"Okay, if you must know, I'm getting a little tired of hearing about your moustache!" There, he'd said it.

"Huh!" grunted Johnny. "Just because someone finally has good taste." The ride back to the station was mercifully quiet, and the bay was empty when Roy and Johnny returned to the station. They had been playing 'tag' all day long with the engine crew. Just as the engine would pull up, the squad would leave, and vice versa. They never seemed to be in the station for very long at the same time. This suited Roy just fine. Any more comments about Johnny's moustache, and he swore he was going to shave Gage himself.

With the engine gone, that meant the two would have to find their own meal, since it was Chet's turn to cook. Johnny rummaged through the refrigerator again, looking for anything that resembled food, while Roy got a couple of plates out of the cupboard. Settling for cold cuts, the two hungry men stacked the meat high on their bread and sunk their teeth into their respective sandwiches. Par for the course, the tones sounded, playing their song. The two discouraged men groaned and plopped their half-eaten sandwiches back on their plates, then scurried to the squad.

A young dark-haired girl came running from the backyard, waving her arms wildly, as Roy and John pulled up to the small cottage-style home."Back here," she motioned to the two men. They jumped from the cab and grabbed their equipment, following the path the girl had taken to the back of the house. In the far corner of the yard sat a swingset with wire clothes hangers hung from the hooks where the swings should have been. On the ground under the swingset was a small tow-headed boy, about five years of age, sitting on the lap of a woman who was trying to console him.

"What's the problem, Ma'am? Did he fall?" Roy inquired.

"No, no, nothing like that. He. . .well, here. . ." she turned the boy around to reveal a chubby blue face.

"What 'cha got on your face there, son?" Roy asked the lad gently as he knelt closer to the boy.

"Paint!" answered the mother for her son. "He decided his toy trucks needed a new paint job, so he found a can of blue spray paint, hung them up on his swingset, and. . .well. . .the wind took care of the rest."

"How long ago did this happen?" Johnny asked as he, too, knelt down by the boy to examine his eyes to make sure the paint hadn't gotten into them. Meanwhile, Roy grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs from the drug box.

"Just right before I called you. Can you get it off? I didn't know what to do. It's so close to his eyes, I was afraid it'd gotten in." The mother seemed more frustrated than upset.
"Well," Johnny answered, "It doesn't seem like he's gotten any into his eyes. Let's see if we can't get some of this off of his face and then we'll take a closer look." Taking the cotton swabs from his partner, Johnny started dabbing at the paint. The boy squirmed a bit when Johnny tried to rub the blue hue from his cheeks. He pushed against the man trying to help him, in an effort to get away.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the mother exclaimed, as two sticky blue hands landed smack across Johnny's face. He pulled the boy's hands away, along with a few choice hairs from his moustache in the process, from the still-tacky paint.

"Owwww. . . " Johnny groaned. Without even looking, he knew that his partner was sporting a huge smile, at his expense. "There," John said when they finally cleaned the paint from the boy's face. "Doesn't look like much damage was done here. His eyes look real clear, but his hair's another story. I'm afraid that might have to wait till it wears off."

"Um, like your moustache?" The mother timidly pointed at Johnny's face.

"Yeah," John answered glumly, hearing a stifled laugh behind him that could only belong to Roy.

Packing up their equipment, the two men were uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn't until they were on their way back to the station that Johnny spoke up."Well?" he asked indirectly.

"Well what?" Roy avoided.

"I don't see what everyone finds so funny!" John slumped in his seat.

"Well. . . it's not funny, Johnny, it's just. . . it'll just take a bit of getting used to, is all." Roy hoped his non-explanation would satisfy his partner.

"Oh, okay, I guess." Johnny seemed to accept that rationalization. "But what do you think?"

He had to ask, Roy thought dismally. "Well, it's different, for you. . . "

"Different? That's all you have to say?"

"No. . . it's, um. . . awfully blue too!" Roy smirked.

"Oh funny!" Johnny shot back and turned dejectedly to look out the window of the squad. "How blue?" he asked as he stretched his neck to look into the rearview mirror.

"Well. . . you might want to stop in the latrine when we get back. Maybe some soap will lighten it up some."

"Ohhhhhh. . . " sighed Johnny, slumping back into his seat again. "That's not the half of it. I can still smell that baby's, uh, you know. . ."

The trip to the latrine would have to wait. Before they came even remotely close to the station, the squad was called out again.

By the time the two paramedics got to their destination, a small band of spectators had gathered around the victim lying on the open sidewalk. As they made their way through the crowd, neither man noticed the puzzled looks of several of the people. Johnny knelt next to the now-conscious woman."Ma'am? Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I'm. . . I'm not sure. . . but I think I fainted," she replied weakly.

"Okay, Ma'am. We're here to help you. Just lie still here while we contact the hospital and check your vitals, okay?" John's voice was soothing and calm as he talked to the woman.

Roy set up the biophone while Johnny chatted with the woman and checked her vitals. Mary Stewart had been shopping, running in and out of the air-conditioned stores all day. She had been feeling a little light-headed the last time she came out into the heat, but was determined to finish her shopping before she headed for home. Add to that the fact that she had skipped lunch, and the end result found her lying on the sidewalk. Roy radioed in the vitals and Johnny set up an IV as a precaution, as they prepared the woman for transport.

"Ma'am? How do you feel now?" The woman's coloring was returning, but Johnny was a little concerned by the expression on her face.

"Well, I'm not sure," she replied undecidedly.

"Do you hurt anywhere you haven't told us?" Johnny looked concerned as he continued his assessment.

"No, no I feel much better actually, but. . . I could swear, your moustache looks blue to me!"

Smiling slightly, Johnny set out to reassure the woman.

"You're not seeing things, Ma'am. It's blue," he stated matter-of-factly.

The ambulance transported Mary to the hospital, with Johnny riding along this time. He ignored the conspicuous stares of the hospital staff as he hurried through the doors and into the treatment room. Anxious to get out of there as quickly as possible, he tried to head Roy off before his partner made his way to the base station, where Dix was sure to be, but he was too late. Closing his eyes briefly in defeat, he wandered over to join Dixie and Roy.

"Why Johnny! Making a new statement, are we?" A gleeful Roy had already apprised Dixie of Johnny's new dye job on his moustache. When she saw the look on Johnny's face though, she thought better of teasing him. He looked downright beaten.

"Dix. . . " he started to warn the Head Nurse.

"Here Johnny, try this." Dixie handed him a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a large cotton swab. "Maybe you can go to the washroom and see if you can't, um, un-blue it." In spite of everything, she found herself enjoying Johnny's latest little predicament.
With a grimace on his face, Johnny took the items from her and headed off down the hall.

"Johnny!" Roy called out. "I've got to make us available."

Without turning around, Johnny raised his hand in acknowledgment and continued down the hall without a word.

Finally, it looked as if the two paramedics might actually get back to the station before their next run called them out. The cookies from the hospital and the half-sandwich at the station were not much of a meal, and their stomachs were beginning to protest. Johnny had something on his mind though, and he wanted to get it out. Sighing, he figured the best time to do this was on the ride back to the station.

With a thoughtful look on his face, he looked over at his partner and cocked his head. "Tell me Roy, truthfully, does it really look that bad?" Johnny asked sincerely.
Roy sighed. He would rather wait and do this on a full stomach, but he also knew his partner. When Johnny had something on his mind, no one could divert his thoughts.

"Can I ask you something?" Roy figured he might as well jump in with both feet, although this course of action was more like his partner's.

"Sure, why not?" Johnny shrugged. His mood had gone downhill since they had left the hospital, and his voice reflected it.

"Why'd you grow it?" Roy asked with all frankness.

"I dunno, lazy I guess." Johnny looked straight ahead, avoiding the truth.

Somehow, Roy doubted that was the reason, but hesitated to push the matter further. It was John who continued the conversation.

"I guess I just figured. . . " Johnny started, then seemed to change his mind.

"Figured what. . . ?" Roy knew his partner well enough to know that Johnny really wanted to tell him his reasoning, and wanted to give him every opportunity to do just that.

"Figured it would help," his partner finally conceded.

"Help? With the ladies?" Roy could understand that logic, being it was Johnny's logic.

"No. . . ." Johnny sighed in frustration. His reason sounded stupid to him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to give his partner yet another reason to laugh at his expense.

"What then?" Roy was becoming more curious by the minute.

"Help with. . . my luck." Johnny finally admitted, in a quiet voice.

"Luck? As in. . . " These abbreviated sentences of Johnny's drove Roy bonkers.

"Luck, as in the job."

"The job?" Roy was really confused now.

"Yeah. I'm tired of getting injured on the job." Johnny straightened up and turned to face Roy as he spoke, becoming more animated as he talked. "I spend more time out on injuries than anyone I know, Roy. I just spent eight weeks, EIGHT WEEKS, out on this last one! Can you think of anyone else who is out more than I am?"

Roy just shook his head. No, he couldn't, but he still couldn't figure out what growing a moustache had to do with the job.

Johnny sat back against the seat again, stilling his hands in his lap. Quietly, he continued, "I just thought if I changed something, anything, things might change in general, you know?"

Roy was trying to follow his partner's train of thought. "Well, I understand you wanting to change your luck, but do you really think a moustache is going to keep you out of trouble?"

"I didn't say it'd keep me out of trouble," Johnny grinned, then sobered just as quickly, "I just wanted to change my luck."

"And there's a difference?" Roy asked, a little more amused than he knew he should be. When Johnny gave a quiet shrug and turned away, he instantly regretted his attempt to minimize his partner's feelings. The remainder of the ride back to the station was painfully silent.

By the time the squad returned to quarters, the engine was still gone on its last run. Johnny slumped out of the squad, and Roy headed into the dayroom, assuming his partner was right behind him. However, when Roy turned to offer him a cup of coffee, Johnny was nowhere to be seen. Setting his own cup back on the counter, Roy went in search of his partner.

He found Johnny standing in front of the sinks in the locker room, staring at himself in the mirror. "You know, Johnny," Roy started, "if you like what you see, you shouldn't listen to anyone else." Johnny stood silently, not acknowledging Roy's comment. Okay, that didn't work, thought Roy.

"You really think it looks stupid, Roy?" Johnny asked sincerely.

"I never said it looked stupid, Johnny. I just said it's a 'different' look for you. Give it enough time and everyone will forget about it. If you wouldn't react to everything everyone said, they'd let it drop."

"Yeah, right. Chet Kelly will let it drop. When. . ." Before Johnny could finish his sentence, they could hear the engine returning, and Johnny made a quick exit to avoid any further conversation.

Chet and Marco were busily preparing a new concoction for supper, while Mike and Roy sat at the table shuffling sections of the newspaper back and forth to one another.
"Roy, got the sports section?" Mike asked.

"I don't think so. Must be in the stack I haven't gone through yet," Roy answered as he tossed the unread pile to Stoker.

"Hey, Roy!" Chet called out as he reached into the refrigerator for some fresh vegetables. "Where's the new mascot?"

"Mascot?" Roy asked, a little confused.

"You know, Henry's rival. Gage, the Hairy Wonder," Chet mumbled, as he munched on a carrot he'd popped into his mouth.

"Chet, leave it alone," Roy cautioned.

"Aw, Roy! You gotta know, this is going to be good for a lot of mileage." Chet defended himself.

"Chet, just take my advice and leave Johnny alone," Roy warned again. He was glad his partner was making himself scarce for the moment.

Chet surprised him by saying, "Sure, Roy. I'll leave him alone." Right up until the Phantom comes out to play!

The Phantom didn't get his chance. As if on cue, the tones sounded, just as supper was being placed on the table for the hungry crew. Supper would be late again tonight.

The engine company pulled up to an apartment building with flames shooting out of its second-story windows. While Captain Stanley radioed in a second alarm, Johnny and Roy donned their turnout coats and air bottles.

A man in his early 60's stood beside Stanley, talking a mile a minute. Stanley put his hand on the man's shoulder, as if to slow down the man's ramblings. "Calm down, Sir. Now tell me, is there anyone else in the building?"
As the man calmed slightly under Stanley's touch, he told him there may be two young children trapped in the one of the first-floor apartments. "Their mother works the night shift as a waitress. I keep an eye out for them when she's gone. I tried to get to them, but the smoke, and the flames. I just couldn't!" The man was obviously distressed and feeling more than a little guilty at his failed attempt to rescue the children.

"Gage, DeSoto!" Stanley called out to his two paramedics. "We may have victims inside!"

Johnny and Roy jogged over to their captain and took note of the apartment where the children lived. Marco and Chet were ordered to help with the extrication of the victims, and the four men made their way towards the back of the building, safety ropes slung over their shoulders.

With Marco and Chet anchoring their guide ropes, Roy and Johnny entered through the back door into the smoky hallway. Once inside, the smoke proved so thick in the hallway that it was nearly impossible to see. Using their hands to guide themselves along the walls, they finally found the door to the right apartment.

Johnny broke through the door, and called out from behind his air mask, "Anyone in here?" Roy indicated he'd go left, and motioned for Johnny to go to the right in search of the victims. The heavy smoke from the hallway rolled in behind them as they made their way through the apartment.

In his search, Johnny found a bedroom door that was closed tight. Pulling off his right glove, he felt the wooden door for any signs of heat. When the door felt cool to his touch, he slid his glove back on and opened it. There was less smoke in this room. He could see by the furnishings that it was a child's room, as he began his search. Checking under the beds provided no results. Scanning the room, he noticed a closet door and opened it. There, huddled in the far corner, were two small, very frightened children.

Johnny ran to the open bedroom door, pulled up his airmask briefly and called out to Roy, hoping his partner would hear him from the other end of the apartment. Squinting to see through the increasing smoke, Johnny paused in the doorway just long enough to see a figure coming towards him. By the time Roy entered the children's bedroom, Johnny had already pulled a young boy, about seven years of age, from his safe hiding place in the closet. Handing the boy over to his partner, he yelled through his mask. "Take the boy. I've got the little girl."

Roy took the boy in his arms, protecting him as much as he could, hesitating for a second while Johnny grabbed the little girl. She was only about four or five years old, and very frightened."Go!" yelled Johnny. "I'm right behind you."

Nodding, Roy turned to leave with the little boy, stopping in the doorway for a second to make sure Johnny did indeed have the other child safely in his arms. Satisfied that his partner was right behind him, he gave his guide rope a tug, and he turned to exit the apartment with his victim.

Johnny tucked the little girl safely inside his turnout coat to protect her, but before they reached the bedroom doorway, the crying little girl started coughing from the smoke that was finding its way into the room. Stopping his retreat, he knelt down and smoothed backed the child's long blonde locks with one hand as he removed his helmet and then his air mask with his other hand. "Shh. . . That's okay. I'm going to put this over your face so you can breath some nice fresh air, okay?" he said as calmly as he could.

The little girl pushed against the mask and cried, coughing all the harder. "Calm down, Honey, just pretend it's a Halloween mask, okay?" Johnny spoke in the smoothest tone he could find to calm the child.Still sobbing, the little girl stopped pushing against the mask and Johnny placed it over her tiny face. Satisfied that he had the situation well under control, he situated the little girl in his arms again, and started to follow the path that Roy had taken.

Chet met Roy as he exited the house, taking the boy out of his arms. "Where's Gage?" he yelled at the paramedic.

"He's right behind me!" yelled Roy, as he pulled his helmet and airmask off his face and started to free himself of his air tank.

Shaking his head, Marco held the still slack rope in his hands. "He never signaled to come out."Roy and Chet both turned towards the door, trying to see through the smoke-filled hallway. There was no sign of Gage.

Roy started to pull his airmask back over his head, when Cap came up behind him.
"Where's Gage?" he asked.

"Johnny's still in there, Cap," Roy answered, "I'm going back in after him."

"No, Roy," Cap ordered, "you stay with the victim. Kelly, go find Gage, and watch your head. That second floor is fully involved. The ceiling has got to be unstable."

Chet was already tying Roy's rope around his own waist before Cap was even done with his orders. With Cap anchoring the rope this time, Kelly entered the apartment building in search of the other paramedic.

Unfortunately, Johnny had already discovered the unstable ceiling. He and the little girl had still been in the children's bedroom, when a loud crack emanated from above. Without looking up, he instinctively hunched down on the floor, shielding his precious cargo. A sharp pain radiated through his shoulder when a floor joist from above caught him, knocking him to his side.

"Uhn. . . " groaned Johnny. He lay on his side next to the fallen floorboard, dazed from the fall. Next to him, he could hear the little girl sobbing uncontrollably. "Shh. . . " Johnny tried to quiet her, despite his own discomfort. The airmask had been knocked off the child's face and he quickly reached over to replace it to prevent any further smoke inhalation. He tried to right himself, but the excruciating pain in his right shoulder forced him back to his side. The smoke was pouring into the room at an alarming pace. He tried to reach his guide rope, but with one hand holding the airmask, and the other incapacitated by the pain in his shoulder, he couldn't manage it.

Forcing himself to ignore the pain, he finally adjusted his weight enough to ease himself up onto his knees. He knew time was of the essence. Coughing violently from the smoke invading his own lungs, Johnny started to feel dizzy on top of everything else. He tried in vain to scoop the child up in his arms, willing himself not to pass out, and praying for strength to get both of them out of there. Just then, he felt a slight pressure on his back.

"Gage!" It was Chet's voice, and Chet's hand resting on his back.

"Get. . . the girl," Johnny managed to get out between coughing jags, relaxing his grip on the child.

Chet scooped up the little girl and tried to help Johnny to his feet, grasping him by the right arm. Johnny screamed from the pain and collapsed to the floor.

"JOHNNY!" Chet yelled in alarm.

Regaining his voice, Johnny ordered, "Go, Chet. . . get the girl. . . I can manage!"

Chet looked at Johnny, unsure whether he should believe him or not. He didn't want to leave Johnny, injured, in this burning building, but he had to get the victim out. "I'll send someone in for you. Hang tight!" he yelled at John.

Johnny waved Chet off with his good arm and lay on his back as well as he could with his air bottle still attached. Chet removed the mask from the girl's face and handed it back to Johnny, making sure the man actually put it over his face before he left. With the little girl's face cradled in the crook of his arm, Chet raced towards the door.

Johnny gave into one more bout of coughing. His lungs burned from the smoke he'd inhaled, and from the heat of the room, which was intensifying. His head swam as he gave up the struggle to stay conscious.

"Where's Johnny?" Roy yelled at Chet when he saw the man return with the child, but not his partner. Squad 36 had arrived and had put the boy on O2, so Roy had returned to the back of the house where he knew he would be needed.

"Johnny's hurt, Roy. I couldn't get them both." Chet looked at his co-worker anxiously. "I think it's his arm," he continued.

"Cap?" Roy turned to his captain, not bothering to verbalize his next question.

The unspoken question was understood. "GO!" Stanley ordered.

Roy quickly tied himself off for a second time, donned his airmask once again, and ran back into the apartment building to find his missing partner. Flames were licking at the ceiling edge and the smoke was so thick you could cut it with a knife. However, Roy had been to the apartment in question once already and knew his way. Using Johnny's guide rope, he let it lead him back to the apartment, and, hopefully, his partner.

Once inside, Roy started to make his way to the room where the children had been found, struggling to see through the dense smoke, looking and feeling for any signs of his downed partner along the way. From above, small pieces of burning ceiling debris were falling all around him. Finally reaching the bedroom door, he could just make out a figure, through the smoky haze, lying in the middle of the floor. Without even checking to see what injuries Johnny might have sustained, he lifted the now-unconscious man over his shoulder and exited. Seconds later, the rest of the ceiling came down on the very spot where Johnny had been lying.

Peeking his head through the partially open door, Roy asked softly, "You sleeping?"

Stirring slightly, the man in the bed opened his eyes and greeted Roy with a half-grin.
"Hey, how ya' doin'?" rasped Johnny.

Smiling at his partner's wry sense of irony, Roy shook his head and pushed the door open fully to enter the hospital room. "That's what I should be asking you."

Johnny rubbed his eyes with his good hand. "Well, better now . . . .Throat's a little scratchy yet. Eyes itch. Shoulder hurts like hell, but yeah, I'm doin' okay." Johnny nodded, full grin in place. Changing his expression to a more serious one, he frowned. "How're the kids?"

"The little boy went home with his grandparents. They admitted the little girl overnight, but it looks like she'll be just fine. Just a precaution from the smoke inhalation," Roy informed him.

"Good," Johnny sighed quietly. He stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"You did good back there, Johnny," Roy reassured him.

"Well, not all that good. I didn't get her out," Johnny admonished himself.

"But because of you, she didn't inhale as much smoke as she might have. And you kept her safe till help arrived. That's what counts," Roy stated.

"Yeah. Things got a little hairy back there, didn't they?" Johnny stated rhetorically.

"A little," agreed Roy.

Johnny looked directly at Roy, his face sober, eyes slit, brows creased. "It didn't work, you know?"

"What didn't work?" Roy frowned in confusion. Following Johnny's thread of thinking was never an easy task for Roy.

Johnny grimaced, then gestured towards his moustache.

"Oh, that," Roy grinned, somewhat relieved.

"I guess it was pretty stupid to think I could change something, and have my luck change with it," scoffed Johnny.

"You just have to face the facts, Johnny. There are some situations that just can't be avoided. You did what you had to, to keep that little girl safe, and because of you, she'll probably being playing with lots of blonde little grandchildren one day."

Johnny smiled thoughtfully at Roy's comment. "Well, as soon as I get outta here, this stupid thing is coming off! Chet was right, you know." At Roy's confused look again, Johnny explained. "I do look like him!"

Roy laughed at the horrified look on Johnny's face when he spouted that declaration.
"Well, I don't know about that, but if you want my opinion, I think you look better without the moustache."

"Oh yeah? Well . . ." Johnny cocked his head and smiled broadly, pausing for effect. "What do you think I'd look like. . .as a blonde?"

Roy rolled his eyes, threw up his hands in mock defeat, then shook his finger at Johnny." You come back to work as a blonde, and I'm transferring out of 51's!" threatened Roy.

Johnny just grinned as he smoothed over his soon-to-be-departed moustache.

"You wouldn't really do that!" Roy declared.

Another silent grin.

"Johnny?"

Guest Dispatchers                  Stories by Dianne Bay