False Positive

part 2

 

 

"What the hell?" Kelly Brackett dropped the chart he'd been studying and rushed towards them. "Johnny? Roy, what happened to him?"

 

Roy explained and Johnny watched the doctor's expression change from worry to disappointment. "Oh, Johnny," he sighed. "You know better than this. What on earth would possess you to do something so …"

 

"Not now, Doc," Roy interrupted quietly. "There's plenty of time for that later. Right now he's feeling pretty lousy and I'm worried he might have a concussion. Can you check him out?"

 

"Of course. You're right. Bring him in here." They led Johnny into an empty exam room and eased

him down onto the table. "So he was out of it when you got to the jail?"

 

"Yeah. He was very slow to rouse."

 

"Was he unconscious, Roy, or just passed out?"

 

"I'm not sure. The cops said he was wide-awake when they put him in the cell. Could just be the alcohol but he's got a pretty nasty bump on his head. It worried me a little."

 

"You did the right thing by bringing him in," Brackett reassured him. "Johnny, open your eyes for me. Let me check you out."

 

Gage had been through more neurological exams than he could count. He could almost take one in his sleep. "John Gage, Rampart emergency room and Jimmy Carter," he mumbled, resisting when Brackett attempted to pry open his eyelid.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"You were gonna ask me if I knew who I was, where I was and who was the president, weren't you? Just trying to save you the trouble."

 

"Well, at least we know the knock on the head didn't affect your charming personality," Brackett sighed, just a hint of amusement in his voice. "Come on, Gage, sit up and open your eyes. I need to look you over. And besides, you didn't tell me what day it was."

 

"One hundred and fifty-four," Johnny forced himself up and sat, swaying, on the edge of the exam table.

 

Brackett paused, penlight poised an inch from the younger man's right eye. "What?"

 

"That's what day it is. Day one hundred and fifty-four since they took my job away from me."

 

"Johnny …"

 

"Don't." Gage shook his head, a note of pleading in his voice. He couldn't deal with sympathy right now. He felt too bad, his emotions were too close to the surface. "Just do what you have to do so I can get out of here, okay?"

 

"Okay." Brackett conducted the exam with businesslike efficiency. "I don't think it's anything serious,"

he announced when he was done. "But we need to do a few tests just be on the safe side."

 

A 'few' tests turned out to mean blood work, an EEG and a whole host of x-rays: skull series, nasal bones, orbits, cervical spine -- there were more but Johnny fell asleep on the x-ray table and didn't wake up again until they transferred him back to the exam table in the emergency room.

 

Roy was waiting for him. "You feeling any better?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Your blood work came back okay. Well," Roy smiled wryly, "your blood alcohol level was through the roof but everything else checked out."

 

"No cocaine?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Oh, come on, Roy, I'm drunk but I'm not stupid. I know he ordered a drug screen."

 

Roy flushed but answered honestly. "It came back clean."

 

"You could have just asked, you know." Gage closed his eyes with an exhausted sigh and they waited, in painful silence, for Brackett to return with the x-ray results.

 

~**~

 

"You got lucky," Brackett informed him.

 

"I don't feel so lucky."

 

"I'm sure you don't. But the EEG and the x-rays were all negative. There are no fractures and no sign of serious head injury. I'm a little concerned about the decreased vision in that left eye but I suspect it's a result of the severe swelling. We'll arrange for an ophthalmologist to take a look at you in a couple of days. So, I just need to stitch up that gash over your eye and then we'll send you upstairs and let you rest."

 

"You're admitting me?"

 

"Just overnight for observation."

 

"No, I want to go home."

 

"That's not a good idea, Johnny, and you know it. You've got a concussion …"

 

"I don't have a concussion," Gage insisted stubbornly. "I just had too much to drink. Let me go home and sleep it off and I'll be fine."

 

Brackett said absolutely not, Johnny got angry and things were on the verge of getting very unpleasant when Roy stepped in. "Why don't I go home with him? I can keep an eye on him, do a neuro check every couple hours. I know what to look for and I can bring him right back if there's a problem."

 

Kel hadn't been happy about it, but with Johnny flatly refusing to stay, he'd finally given in. He put six stitches in the cut over Gage's eye, gave Roy a long list of instructions and reluctantly signed the discharge papers. Pointing his pen at Roy he said, "You bring him back here at the first sign of trouble, you understand?"

 

"I will."

 

"And you," he directed the pen towards Johnny, "listen to your partner."

 

"He's not my partner anymore," was the quiet reply.

 

Brackett let out an exasperated sigh. "You're right. He's not. But he is still your friend. And so am I, though you might not think so right now. We're here if you need us, Johnny. Try to remember that."

 

Gage, utterly spent both physically and emotionally, merely nodded and made his way from the room, leaning heavily on Roy for support.

 

~**~

 

Johnny lay in bed trying to work up the energy to open his eyes. The traffic sounds drifting in from the street indicated that it was morning. The last thing he remembered was Roy picking him up off the bathroom floor at about 3:00 am after yet another bout of vomiting. He felt -- he didn't even have words to describe how he felt. What was that expression his grandfather used to use? He looks like he's been dragged through a knothole sideways. That was it. And that was exactly how John Gage felt.

 

It was the smell of coffee that finally drove him from the bed. He needed it badly, but first he needed to brush his teeth and take a shower. His mouth tasted like an old sock and he suspected he smelled as bad if not worse. He hobbled into the bathroom, careful not to open his eyes any more than necessary

 

He got his first good look at his face while he brushed his teeth. It looked like he'd gone ten rounds with -- with -- his fuzzy brain refused to supply the name of the current heavyweight champion. In any case, he looked like hell. The gash over his left eye was jagged and ugly. Despite Brackett's careful stitches it would surely leave a scar. The eye itself was a magnificent shade of purple and swollen almost completely shut. His lip was split, there was a livid bruise on his jaw and, though he didn't remember having a bloody nose, he must have because there was blood crusted around his nostrils. All in all, it wasn't a pretty sight.

 

Turning away from the mirror in disgust, Johnny stripped off the clothes he'd slept in and stood under the hot spray of water until it ran cold. When he emerged, he found a stack of clean clothes waiting for him on the closed toilet lid. God bless Roy DeSoto, he thought as he toweled off and dressed.

 

Feeling almost human again, he made his way to the kitchen and was stunned to find Dixie McCall sitting at his kitchen table serenely reading the paper and sipping a cup of coffee.

 

"Dix?"

 

"Morning sunshine," she replied with a grin. "Do you feel as bad as you look?"

 

"Dix?" he repeated. What the hell was she doing here? Where was Roy? If Roy wasn't here, then it had been Dixie who'd slipped into the bathroom and left him the clothes. The smoked glass door of the shower stall left little to the imagination. He felt his face heating up.

 

"Yep, it's me," the nurse said cheerfully. "And don't look so horrified. I've seen it before."

 

God, did she read minds now too?

 

She pushed out the chair beside her. "Sit down before you fall down, Johnny." He slumped down bonelessly. "Coffee?"

 

"Please." She sat a steaming mug in front of him and he took a cautious sip. "So, um, Dix, what are you doing here?"

 

"Roy had to work. He knew I had the day off so he called me to come stay with you until you're feeling better."

 

Johnny was almost swept away by a wave of guilt. "He had to work? He was up all night taking care of me. God, he must be so tired." Suddenly nauseated, Gage pushed away the coffee mug and buried his face in his hands.

 

Dixie's hand was cool and soothing on the back of his neck. "Take some deep breaths," she advised him. "It'll pass."

 

It did and he dropped his hands, flashing her an embarrassed smile. "Thanks."

 

"You're welcome. No more coffee for you though, I think. Why don't we try tea and toast instead? You go lie down on the couch and I'll bring it to you, all right?"

 

"Okay." He was feeling really tired again. The couch sounded like a good idea. He wobbled into the living room and stretched out with a relieved sigh. If Dixie brought him tea and toast, he wasn't aware of it. He was sound asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. He was vaguely aware of her shaking him awake for a neuro check at some point but he went right back to sleep as soon as she was done.

 

When he next woke, the angle of the sun through the windows told him it was afternoon. Dixie, sitting in his recliner, was intently watching a soap opera. "Hey," he croaked.

 

"Hey, yourself." She clicked the TV off with a guilty start. "Nothing else on this time of day," she mumbled.

 

"Sure, Dix. Whatever you say."

 

"Feeling any better?"

 

He considered it for a second. "Yeah, I am. What time is it?"

 

"A little after two."

 

Johnny winced. "I'm sorry. You didn't have to waste your whole day off babysitting me."

 

"I didn't mind," she reassured him. "Besides, you're awfully cute when you're asleep. Maybe because you're not talking."

 

"Funny," he growled, carefully levering himself into a sitting position.

 

"So, think you're up to trying that tea and toast again?"

 

"It's not the same tea and toast from this morning, is it?"

 

"Now who's being a comedian?" Dixie got up and headed for the kitchen, ruffling his hair as she passed. "Butter or jelly?"

 

"Jelly."

 

"Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back."

 

This time he managed to stay awake until her return. He accepted the steaming mug of tea with a grateful smile. The warm liquid soothed his aching throat and settled his still shaky stomach. He only managed half of the toast but considered even that much a victory.

 

Dixie gathered up the dishes and carried them to the kitchen. When she returned, she was carrying a small black medical bag.

 

"Aw, Dix," Johnny groaned at the sight of it. "Not again. Is that really necessary?"

 

"It is if I say it is." She settled herself on the sofa beside him and rummaged in the bag, making a small sound of triumph when she found a penlight. "Look at me," she instructed, prying up his swollen left eyelid. "Sorry," she murmured as he flinched. "Be done in a minute." When she'd done a thorough check of his neurological status and taken his vital signs, Dixie tucked away her supplies and declared him fit.

 

"Coulda told you that," he muttered petulantly.

 

"Ah, but that would have deprived me of the chance to play nurse with a handsome young man in distress," she teased.

 

Johnny couldn't help grinning in response. "Thanks, Dix." Half the time the nurse mothered him and half the time she flirted with him. It could be a bit disconcerting but he'd decided long ago that he liked it.

 

"You're welcome. Now, I think we need to talk.

 

"Talk? About what?"

 

"About what?" she parroted, rolling her eyes. "About the fact that Roy had to get out of bed at midnight to get your sorry butt out of jail. About the fact that if you didn't have friends in the police department you'd still be in jail right now on a drunk and disorderly charge. What's going on, Johnny? I knew you were unhappy but I had no idea it was this bad. Is your life really so unbearable?"

 

"Yes," he whispered brokenly, sick to death of denying it. "Yes, it is." Next thing he knew he was pouring his heart out, telling her how angry he was over the loss of his career, how ashamed he'd been that all his friends had been there to see it happen, how he couldn't bear to face them because he felt he'd let them down. He told her about Sonya, about the fact that his parents still didn't know

what had happened because he was too embarrassed to tell them. "I hate my life," he said, barely holding back tears. "I hate the person I've become but what else is there for me? I can't be a paramedic and I don't want to be anything else. I used to get up in the morning and look forward to going to work. Now the only thing I look forward to is going to Humphrey's and getting drunk enough to forget about my work. Roy's right," he concluded bitterly. "I am becoming exactly what the fire department accused me of being. But right now, I don't know how to be anything else."

 

Through it all, Dixie had kept a gentle hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles. As he wound down into breathless silence, she slid her arm around his shoulders and gave a gentle tug. Johnny went willingly into her arms and gave into the tears he'd been holding back, weeping on her shoulder like a child.

 

When he'd calmed down enough to realize what he was doing, he was mortified. Extricating himself from her embrace, he bolted for the bathroom where he stayed until he'd regained control of his emotions and washed all traces of the crying jag from his face. As embarrassed as he was, he actually felt a little better.

 

Dixie was waiting for him when he finally emerged. "Take these," she commanded, thrusting a glass of water and two round tablets into his hands.

 

"What are they?"

 

"Aspirin. I figure you need them about now."

 

He did and swallowed the pills down without complaint. "Thanks. And, uh, sorry about before. The, um, waterworks and all."

 

"I suspect you've been needing to do that for a while now," Dixie replied with a smile. "So, think you feel up for a walk?"

 

Johnny glanced toward the window. "I dunno," he said doubtfully. "It's awfully bright out there and my eyes ache. Besides, this face of mine is enough to scare small children."

 

"A pair of sunglasses will solve all your problems."

 

"I dunno," he reiterated.

 

"Come on, Johnny. Enough sitting around the house moping. The fresh air will do you good." She took his arm and steered him toward the bedroom. "Go on now. Put your shoes on and grab some sunglasses and let's go."

 

"You're gonna pester me until I give in, aren't you?"

 

"You know it," was her cheerful reply.

 

"Okay, okay."

 

Gage emerged from his bedroom a few minutes later, shoes on, shirt tucked in, hair combed and sunglasses firmly in place. Dixie greeted him with a low wolf-whistle. "You should wear those dark glasses more often, Mr. Gage. You look like a movie star. I'll be the envy of all the girls on the block."

 

Johnny snorted, but the ghost of a smile played at the corner's of his mouth. "Let's get this over with."

 

~**~

 

"You up for another round?"

 

"Yeah." They'd circled the block twice and just as Dixie had predicted, the fresh air and exercise was helping. He wouldn't go so far as to say he felt good but he was getting there. Johnny grabbed her hand and tucked it through his arm, earning him a dazzling smile. "What the hell, let's go two blocks this time."

 

"It's a deal."

 

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, then Dixie spoke up softly. "Johnny, I owe you an apology."

 

That stopped him in his tracks. He stared down at her in confusion. "You owe me an apology? What on earth for, Dix?"

 

"I haven't been a very good friend to you. No, wait," she held up a hand to stop his protest, "Let me finish. I knew you were unhappy and I didn't do anything about it. I knew you were withdrawing from me and from all your friends and I let you do it. I'm ashamed of that, Johnny. I'm ashamed that I didn't make the effort to hold onto you. I should have been more persistent, should have come to see you when you wouldn't come see me. But I didn't and for that, I apologize. Can you forgive me?"

 

Overwhelmed, Johnny could only nod.

 

"Good." Dixie linked her arm back through his and they set off again. " Now, since we're friends again, can I offer you a little friendly advice?"

 

"Would it make any difference if I said no?"

 

Dixie smiled at his tone of weary resignation. "Not a bit."

 

"Go ahead then. Tell me what's on your mind."

 

"Get over yourself."

 

Her voice was gentle, but the words still stung. "Excuse me?"

 

"You heard me, John Gage. Get over yourself. You got a lousy deal, I won't deny that. You've got every right to be angry and bitter, to feel sorry for yourself. But enough is enough. It'll soon be six months and you're acting like it just happened yesterday. It's time to accept what's happened, pick yourself up by the bootstraps, as my father used to say, and get on with your life."

 

"That's what I'm trying to do," he replied sullenly.

 

Dixie made a very rude, very unladylike noise. "Don't even try that nonsense with me. You've done no such thing and you know it. You're way too busy throwing yourself one very long pity party to have time for anything else. And now it's time to stop. Do you think you're the first person who's ever had to live with disappointment?"

 

"Well, no. But ..."

 

"No buts about it. Your life didn't turn out the way you planned and that's too bad. But that doesn't mean your life is over. I'm going to tell you something that I haven't told anyone in a very long time. When I was a girl, I didn't want to be a nurse. I wanted to be a doctor."

 

Johnny's eyebrows shot up at that. "So why didn't you?"

 

"Because in my day, girls were not encouraged to become doctors. It wasn't ladylike, women weren't logical enough, weren't capable of dealing with the stress. You name it, I heard it. And finally I gave in and became a nurse instead. It wasn't the career I dreamed of, but you know what? I ended up loving it. Now, I admit that I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I'd stuck to my guns and gone to medical school, but I have a very fulfilling life. And you could too, if you stopped feeling sorry for yourself long enough to make it happen. You're a young man, Johnny. You're intelligent, you're a hard worker and you've got a good heart. There's nothing you couldn't do if you set your mind to it. So you're unhappy working at the filling station. Fine. Get a different job, a better job. Or go to college. I'm sure you'd have no trouble getting the money. If you didn't have the collateral for a loan, Kel or Joe would co-sign for you in a heartbeat. If you really set your mind to it, you'd find a way to make it happen. But first you have to want to make it happen."

 

"But I don't -- I don't even know where to start," he faltered.

 

"No more drinking would be a good first step," Dixie suggested gently. "No more isolating yourself from the people who love you would be another. I'm sure the guys at 51 would love to see you. They may not be your colleagues anymore, but they're still your friends. Let them be your friends. Get back out in the world and socialize. Start living again. The rest will all fall into place."

 

"Just like that?" he asked doubtfully.

 

"Just like that. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. In fact, it might be very difficult at times. But I have faith in you, Johnny. You just need to have faith in yourself."

 

Dixie seemed to sense that she'd give him a lot to think about and the rest of the walk passed in silence. When they got back to Johnny's apartment, she heated a can of soup and stood over him while he ate it. After bullying him into one last neuro check, she gathered her things and headed for the door. "Take care of yourself. And think about what I said."

 

"I will," he promised, bending to kiss her cheek. "Thank you. And Dix -- you would have made a great doctor."

 

~**~

 

He was packing, when he heard the knock on the door.

 

"Roy? What are you doing here?"

 

"We were on our way back from a run and I thought I'd stop in for a minute and see if you were okay."

 

Johnny laughed and shook his head. "You always were a lousy liar, Roy DeSoto. The tips of your ears turn beet red."

 

"They do not," DeSoto protested, touching one ear surreptitiously.

 

"Yeah, they do. And besides, I don't live in 51's district. Unless you're moonlighting for Station 18 and not telling me, there's no way you'd be on your way back from a run in my neighborhood. You talked to Dixie, didn't you?"

 

Roy nodded reluctantly. "She said you were doing okay."

 

"But you wanted to see for yourself, right?"

 

Roy nodded again.

 

"Well, thanks. And, uh, thanks for last night. For coming to get me and all."

 

"That's what friends are for."

 

"Yeah, Dix reminded me of that today," Johnny rocked back on his heels, suddenly feeling ill at ease. It wasn't easy admitting you'd been a jackass, he reflected. But he owed Roy that much. "I guess it hasn't been easy lately, has it? Being my friend, I mean. But you stuck with it and - well - thanks."

 

They found themselves in one of those long, uncomfortable moments men sometimes share. The ones where they have an almost overwhelming urge to hug each other but can't quite make themselves do it. Finally, Roy cleared his throat noisily and announced that he needed to get back to the station. "It's been quiet tonight, but we shouldn't stay away too long."

 

Johnny nodded his understanding. "Okay. Tell the guys I said hello, would ya?"

 

"You know you could stop in and tell 'em yourself sometime," Roy said quietly.

 

"Yeah. I know. I, uh, don't think I'm ready for that yet, but maybe someday. Listen, Roy, I was gonna call you later and let you know, I'm going out of town for a while. I called Nick and asked for a couple weeks off. It's time I collected on all those extra hours I worked while he was recuperating. I'm gonna fly home and spend some time with my parents. There are some things I've been putting off telling them and I think it's time. And maybe some time away will give me a chance to do some thinking."

 

"Maybe it will," Roy smiled approvingly. "You, um, you need any money? For the ticket or anything?"

 

"No. Mom and Dad always give me a round trip ticket home for Christmas. Mom says that way she knows I'll visit at least once. I've been putting off using it this year and, well ..." he smiled self-consciously and shrugged.

 

"I should go," DeSoto said again. "You have a good trip, okay? And keep in touch."

 

"I will." Johnny held open the door and ushered the other man through. "I'll walk you out."

 

"You don't have to do that."

 

"I know. But Tim's waiting for you in the squad, right?"

 

"Yeah?" Roy raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

"Well, I just thought it was time you introduced your partner to your best friend."

 

DeSoto's smile nearly split his face. "I'd like that, Junior. I'd like that a lot."

 

~**~

 

His flight didn't leave LAX until two, but Johnny left home right after breakfast. He had a couple of very important stops to make along the way. The first was the campus of USC to pick up a course catalogue. If nothing else, it would give him something to read on the plane, he reasoned. The second was the grocery store where he'd met Sonya. There were quite a few people he felt he owed an apology to, but none more so than her.

 

The little store was busier than he'd expected at ten o'clock on a Monday morning. She was working one of the front registers and had several people waiting in her line. Johnny circled around to the back of the register lane and tried to get her attention. The third time he called her name, she turned and saw him, making no attempt to hide the distaste in her expression.

 

"Can I talk to you?" he asked quietly.

 

"I'm busy." Her reply was clipped and cold.

 

"Sonya ..."

 

"I said I'm busy." She turned her back on him dismissively.

 

He didn't want to make a scene but he knew if he didn't do this now, he'd lose his nerve and it would never happen. Squaring his shoulders determinedly, Gage circled back to the front side of the register lanes. He grabbed a bag off a snack food display -- sunflower seeds, he noted absently -- and planted himself firmly at the end of Sonya's line. He waited his turn patiently. First the little old lady with the can of cat food and six bottles of wine, then the harried mother pushing an overflowing cart while simultaneously trying to control her two rambunctious children, then jittery man who was obviously just itching to crack open the carton of cigarettes in his hand and then it was Johnny's turn. Just as he was about to place his bag of seeds on the conveyer, Sonya reached up and snapped off the overhead light. "This lane is closed," she informed him coolly. Glancing toward the service desk, she called, "Lily, I'm taking my break," and off she marched, head held high.

 

Johnny took off in hot pursuit, chasing her through the produce department and into the back of the store. She disappeared behind a swinging door marked 'employees only' but that didn't stop him. Ignoring the startled looks from the employees in the storeroom, he followed her out the back door and into the alley.

 

With nowhere else to go, Sonya wheeled around and confronted him angrily. "Damn it, Johnny! Leave me alone!"

 

Holding up both hands in a conciliatory gesture, he backed up a step. "I just want to talk to you, Sonya," he pleaded. "I just want to tell you how sorry I am. For the other night, for everything. Please just hear me out and I swear I'll never bother you again."

 

She planted herself on a nearby packing crate and sullenly informed him, "You've got five minutes. Talk fast."

 

Johnny couldn't help but smile. If there was one thing he was good at, it was talking fast. "Do you remember those two men who came to my apartment the morning after you stayed over?" She nodded. "Remember how I told you it was just a misunderstanding? Well, that wasn't exactly true."

 

" ... and so I'm leaving this afternoon to visit my folks and try and get my act together," he finished in a breathless rush.

 

Sonya sat quietly, staring off into space, for a long time. When she finally looked up, her expression was kind and a bit sad. "I wish you'd told me this back in February."

 

"Yeah, me too," Johnny sighed. "But I didn't think you'd understand. Didn't think you'd believe me."

 

"Maybe I wouldn't have," she admitted. "But I would've liked to have had the chance."

 

"I'm sorry I didn't give you the chance." He hunkered down so that they were at eye level. "I'm sorry about a lot of things, Sonya. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

 

She nodded, her eyes bright with tears. "I can."

 

"So, can we be friends again? Cause I'm getting really tired of driving clear over to the Safeway on Tremont Street every time I run out of milk."

 

That earned him a smile. "There's a lot of water under the bridge, Johnny, but I'd like it if we could try to be friends. I just want you to understand that I really like Dwayne a lot."

 

"Dwayne?"

 

"Yeah, the guy who. . ." she paused and sheepishly pointed at his face.

 

"Oh. Dwayne. He packs a hell of a punch." Johnny rubbed his bruised jaw ruefully. "I understand, Sonya. If you're happy, I'm happy for you. I didn't come here to try and win you back or anything. I now it's too late for that. I just thought I owed you an explanation."

 

"Thank you, Johnny. For coming here and telling me all this. A lot of guys wouldn't go to the trouble."

 

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause when neither of them seemed to know what to say next. Johnny broke the silence by pushing himself to his feet and announcing the need to get going. He still had to swing by Rampart for a consultation with an eye specialist before heading to the airport.

 

Sonya walked him to the end of the alley and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Have a safe trip, Johnny. I hope you find what you're looking for. And, um, I guess I'll see you next time you run out of milk, huh?"

 

"You can count on it."

 

~**~

 

"You looking at that thing again?"

 

Johnny glanced up from the USC course catalogue in his lap. "It's a big decision, Dad."

 

"Scoot over," Earl Gage prodded his son's shoulder until he slid over making room for him on the porch swing. "Lemme see that thing. Lord, son, you've thumbed through this book so many times you've about got it wore out."

 

"I know," Johnny chuckled. "Like I said, it's a big decision. I just want to be sure."

 

Earl squinted at the pages, tilting the catalogue this way and that. "Damn small print," he muttered.

 

"Might not be so small if you wore your glasses."

 

The older man glared at the younger, then pulled the glasses out of his shirt pocket and perched them on the end of his nose with a sigh. "Sound just like your mother," he muttered. " So, let's see what's so interesting that you've been reading it every day for the last two weeks. School of Environmental Studies. What the hell are environmental studies?"

 

"Keep reading." Johnny slumped down onto the end of his spine, stretched his legs out in front of himself and listened in affectionate amusement as his father skimmed through the course description stumbling over the unfamiliar words.

 

"The body of knowledge related to the interactions between people and the natural world -- investigate and teach about natural and social systems -- assess the complexity of environmental problems and understand how to search for solutions to these problems -- courses including environmental science, ecological economics, international environmental issues, conservation of biodiversity, ecological agriculture, environmental journalism and environmental law." Earl closed the book and turned to stare at his son incredulously. "Christ on a crutch, J.R., I still don't know what the hell it means. And you're going to study this?"

 

"Yeah, Dad. I think I am."

 

"And then you're gonna do what?" He glanced at the catalogue again. "Conserve biodiversity? Whatever the hell that means."

 

"Yep."

 

"You aren't gonna turn into one of those nuts who goes out and chains himself to trees are you?"

 

Johnny threw back his head and laughed. "No, Dad."

 

"Good. So this is like protecting land and wildlife and such, huh?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"You know, they're teaching classes in that over at the new tribal college in Lame Deer."

 

Johnny ducked his head to hide his smile. He'd been waiting for this since the day he arrived. He was just surprised it had taken so long. "I know. But it would be quite a commute from Los Angeles, dontcha think?"

 

Earl glared at him over his glasses. "Smart ass."

 

"Dad, I know what you're trying to say and I appreciate it. But my home's in California now. If I came running back here when things got tough it would seem, I don't know," he shrugged, "irresponsible, I guess. Can you understand that?"

 

"Yeah, I guess so. But it sure would mean a lot to your mother. She misses you."

 

Johnny stifled another grin. It was his father who made the long trip to Miles City to buy the plane ticket for him every Christmas. It was his father who'd called Rampart three times a day when he'd been hit by a car several years before. It was his father who wrote him and made not-so-subtle remarks about the good paying jobs opening up at the granary. It was his father who mentioned -- frequently -- that Brenda Mankiller, "that pretty little thing you were so crazy about in high school" was back in town and single again. But it was always his mother who missed him.

 

"I miss you too, Dad," Johnny said quietly, resting his head against his father's shoulder.

 

                                    ~**~

 

"Happy birthday, Uncle Johnny!" Jennifer came flying down the walk to meet him before he'd even set foot out of the Rover.

 

"Thank you, Jenny Lynn." He scooped her up for a smacking kiss and carried her, squealing, to the house in a fireman's carry.

 

"I made your cake all by myself," she announced triumphantly, when he'd set her back on her feet.

"Chocolate with chocolate icing. Your favorite!"

 

"You did? All by yourself?" She nodded gravely in response. "Well, I'm gonna have to have two pieces then."

 

"Okay, but not until after dinner. Mom said so."

 

Johnny looked up and flashed a grin at Joanne DeSoto who was watching from the kitchen doorway. "Not until after dinner, huh? Well, okay, but I hope dinner's soon cause I'm starved."

 

Jennifer scurried off to finish setting the table, a task she'd abandoned when she'd seen him pull into the driveway. Joanne stepped forward to press a kiss on Johnny's cheek. "Happy birthday," she said warmly. "And welcome home."

 

"Thanks. It's good to be back."

 

"You'll be relieved to know that dinner will be ready in five minutes. Think you can hang on that long?"

 

"I'll try," he laughed. "Can I help with anything?"

 

"Nope, my able assistant and I have things well in hand. Chris is still at Boy Scout camp and Roy's out back if you want to go let him know we're almost ready."

 

"He in the garage?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Still trying to make that birdhouse?"

 

"Yep."

 

"It look anything like a birdhouse?"

 

"Nope."

 

Chuckling, Johnny made his way out the back door to the garage. Roy was a man of many talents, but carpentry work was not one of them. Roy just hadn't figured that out for himself yet and was determined to build a large and elaborate multi-tiered birdhouse for the back yard. Based on Joanne's report -- and the muffled cursing coming from the garage -- it didn't appear to be going very

well.

 

"Need some help there, pal?"

 

Roy, who stood with his hands on his hips glaring at the would-be birdhouse, shook his head in frustration. "No. I give up."

 

"I think that's wise."

 

"I'll start fresh tomorrow."

 

Gage rolled his eyes skyward and said nothing.

 

Roy closed up his toolbox and came to lean in the garage doorway with Johnny. He studied the younger man in the fading light. "Montana must have agreed with you. You look a hell of a lot better than you did before you left. Got your stitches out, I see."

 

"Yeah, Mom took 'em out for me right before I left for home."

 

"You're a braver man than I am," Roy chuckled. "I love my mother but no way would I let her get that close to my eye with a pair of scissors."

 

"My mom's a midwife," Johnny reminded him. "She's probably put in and taken out more stitches than any doctor at Rampart. And in areas a lot more delicate than my eyebrow."

 

Roy cringed slightly, then nodded. "Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that. So how is the eye? Your vision okay?"

 

"Saw the doctor yesterday afternoon. I'm good as new."

 

"Well, that's a relief. I was concerned."

 

"No? Really?" Gage teased. "After all, you only brought it up every single time I talked to you."

 

"I worry," DeSoto shrugged with a wry grin. "So sue me. Anyway, I take it you had a good trip? How're your folks?"

 

"They're good. They say hello. And, yeah, I had a good trip. Dad worked my ass off and Mom did her best to fatten me up. It was nice."

 

"Did you tell them?"

 

"Yeah. It was easier than I thought. Oh, Mom gave me five kinds of hell for keeping it from them all these months but they were very supportive. Told me they were proud of me no matter what I did for a living." Johnny had to stop and clear his throat a few times before he could continue. "I shoulda told them from the beginning."

 

"But they know now and that's what's important."

 

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. They, um, they gave me money for college. I found it in my suitcase when I got home the other day. Mom must have slipped it in. Had it wrapped up like a birthday present."

 

"That was nice of them."

 

"But it's almost a thousand dollars, Roy!" His voice was thick, anguished. "They've been saving for years to go to Hawaii. That has to be what it is. I can't take it."

 

"You have to," Roy said gently.

 

"No. I'm sending it back."

 

"You'd be the first person in your family to go to college right?" Gage nodded. "They're proud of you. They want to help. You need to let them do it. For them, Junior, not for you. It'll break their hearts if you send it back."

 

"He's right," Joanne appeared at Johnny's side and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "You need to let them do this for you. It will be the greatest gift you ever give them."

 

"Yeah?" Johnny looked at her doubtfully.

 

"Yeah." Joanne smiled and squeezed his arm. "Your mother would rather see you graduate from college than take a thousand trips to Hawaii. Trust me on this, Johnny. I'm a mom. I know these things. Now, come on. Dinner's ready and Jenny's dying to cut that cake."

 

Johnny swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Well, let's go then. Can't keep my best girl waiting."

 

~**~

 

"Jenny Lynn, that was the very best birthday cake I've ever had."

 

The girl beamed at him from across the table. "Do you want another piece, Uncle Johnny?" she asked eagerly.

 

"No, I think two was enough." He patted his narrow waist. "Gotta watch my girlish figure."

 

"Are you done now? Does that mean we can open presents? Mom said when we got done eating we could open presents!"

 

Joanne nodded her consent and Jennifer raced out of the room shouting, "I'll get it, I'll get it!"

 

"You guys didn't have to get me anything," Johnny protested as the girl returned with a brightly wrapped package.

 

"It was all Jen's idea," Roy admitted. "She picked it out herself."

 

"She did? Well, I know I'll love it then! Want to help me open it?"

 

Jennifer, fairly vibrating with excitement, nodded and tore into the paper with great enthusiasm. "Do you like it?" she demanded, before he'd even gotten the lid off. "It's for you to take to school!"

 

Inside the package was a backpack, emblazoned with the USC logo, and stuffed with the sort of school supplies needed by the average third grader. Johnny smiled at the sight of the tablets with the widely spaced lines, the thick pencils, the bottle of glue. "It's perfect," he declared, pulling the girl close for a hug. "I love it."

 

"Daddy and I went to your school special to get the backpack. I wanted to get one with Fonzie on it but Daddy said you'd like this better. Do you like it better?"

 

"I do, Jen. Very much."

 

Joanne started clearing the table and Johnny rose to help her but she shooed him and Roy into the living room. "The birthday boy doesn't have to help with the dishes. You two go on and catch up."

 

Johnny took his gift with him and settled on the couch with the box in his lap. "There are enough pencils in here to last me the rest of my life," he chuckled.

 

"I know. But she was very insistent. You have to have a lot because they break easy, or so I was informed."

 

"She's a good kid."

 

"That she is," Roy agreed. "So, college man, when do classes start?"

 

"Registration's closed for this semester. If everything goes according to plan, I'll be starting part time in January."

 

"You going to stay on at the filling station?"

 

"For now. I need the money and Nick's been good to me. He said he's willing to work around my class schedule if there are conflicts in the future."

 

"Well, your saving his life might have a little something to do with that."

 

"Ya think?" Johnny grinned and dug into the backpack again, chuckling when he found a pair of blunt tipped scissors way in the bottom. He held them up for Roy's inspection. "Check these out." DeSoto was smiling at him almost paternally. "What?"

 

"Nothing. It's just good to see you like this. Enthusiastic, I mean. I was worried about you for a while there, Junior."

 

"I know," Gage ducked his head, his mood quickly becoming sober. "And I'm sorry about that. I was worried about me too, to be perfectly honest. It's like I told you once before, I didn't realize how much of who I was was tied up in what I did. Not being a paramedic anymore really blindsided me. It's still hard to take. I think it always will be, but I'm beginning to realize there are other opportunities out there for me and it's kind of exciting. Thanks for sticking by me, pal. I know it wasn't always

easy."

 

"That's what friends do," DeSoto reminded him. "But if you want to pay me back, I know how you can do it."

 

"How?"

 

"When you're mister hotshot environmental expert, design me a birdhouse that doesn't take a degree in physics to put together, would ya?"

 

"You got yourself a deal."

 

 ~**~

 

Seven months to the day after he'd left Station 51 for the last time, John Gage stood at the back door gearing himself up to enter it again. "You can do this," he chanted to himself. But he wasn't sure he could. Apologizing to Sonya had been difficult. Confessing to his parents had been painful. This was downright terrifying. These men had been like family and he'd turned his back on them, rejecting their support and their friendship. At the time, it had seemed like the only thing to do. Their presence in his life was a constant, painful reminder of what he'd lost. It had only recently occurred to him to wonder just how his absence in their lives might have affected them. It was time to make amends. If only he could work up the courage to walk through the damn door.

 

It was Chet, bringing Henry out for his nightly walk, who found him still wavering in the back parking lot nearly ten minutes later. "Gage," His voice was carefully neutral.

 

"Hey, Kelly. I was just -- uh, Roy said I should -- he invited -- I mean I wanted to," Johnny broke off with a frustrated groan. "This was a bad idea." He made it exactly two steps toward his car before a hand on his elbow stopped him.

 

"Stoker is making spaghetti for dinner."

 

"Yeah?" Johnny stared at the other man, his heart thumping a mile a minute in his chest.

 

"Yeah. And, well, you know he always makes too much."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

Chet blew an impatient breath out through his teeth. "Oh, fer crying out loud, Johnny, get your skinny ass in here and have dinner with us!"

 

"I'd like that," Johnny said with a shaky smile. "I'd like that a lot."

 

"Good. Come on then. And when we're done eating, you can do the dishes." Chet led him inside, calling out to the others. "Hey, fellas, you'll never believe what I just found lurking out by the dumpster!"

 

It was good to know Chet, at least, hadn't changed.

 

As the other members of the station recognized their visitor, the day room grew unnaturally quiet. It was Captain Stanley who broke the silence, stepping forward with a handshake and a smile. "John, it's about damn time!"

 

Johnny stammered out an apology which the guys clumsily accepted. Then they started talking and things were better. They laughed a lot, but there were still a few moments of discomfort. The worst came when the engine was toned out for a dumpster fire. When the klaxons sounded, Gage was halfway out of his chair before he realized he no longer had to respond. Not then, not ever. It was a painful moment.

 

But then Tim, who'd remained behind with Roy, spoke up to ask, "So, John, are all these stories Roy's been telling me about you the truth or am I being fed a line?"

 

Johnny grinned, grateful for the distraction. "If he told you I was the best paramedic in LA County, it's true. Otherwise, I dunno. Give me an example."

 

"Well, there was something about a woman being trapped in her girdle …"

 

"Roy! You didn't tell him that?!"

 

DeSoto said nothing. He simply favored them with a Mona Lisa smile and got up to pour more coffee.

 

"Don't suppose he told you about his experience with the little girl who had her toe stuck in the bathtub faucet, did he now?" Johnny inquired indignantly. "The not-so-little girl, that is. You shoulda seen his face …"

 

"And how would you know?" laughed Roy. "As I recall, you were out the door like a shot. Took off like you had a plane to catch."

 

"I DID NOT!"

 

Johnny hung around until the engine crew came back. In fact, he ended up staying until almost midnight playing cards and shooting the breeze with his former colleagues. The visit was bittersweet but he was glad he'd come. When he left, Cap told him, "Don't be a stranger."

 

"I won't," he promised. And he meant it.

 

~**~

 

He returned sooner than he'd expected. Less than two weeks after his initial visit, Johnny came home from work and found an acceptance letter from USC in his mailbox. He wanted to tell Roy in person, so he tucked the precious envelope in his pocket and headed for the station.

 

"This is great, Johnny." Roy unfolded the letter carefully. "I bet your parents are thrilled."

 

"They are," Gage nodded. "I called them right before I came over. My mom was still crying when she hung up the phone. I kept telling her it's only going to be two or three introductory courses for now. It's not worth crying about but you know how moms are."

 

"Yeah, but it does look pretty darn impressive on paper. A Bachelor of Arts degree, huh?"

 

"Yep. But don't start planning to attend the graduation just yet. Going part time, it's gonna take forever. I'm hoping that eventually I'll be able to get enough money together to go full time but right now that's just not gonna happen. Not if I want to eat, anyway."

 

"Well, it's still great." DeSoto handed the letter back and pushed away from the table. "Coffee? It's a fresh pot."

 

"Yeah, thanks." Gage accepted the steaming mug and took a sip. Almost immediately, he hissed in pain and grabbed at his jaw with his free hand.

 

"You burn yourself?" Roy approached him, a look of concern on his face.

 

Johnny waved him back. "No, I'm okay. Stupid tooth has been bothering me ever since I got into that fight last month."

 

"Not the one you had crowned in the spring?"

 

"No, that's fine, thank God. It's a different one. Mostly it's okay but sometimes when I drink something really hot or really cold -- well, you see the results. I've been hoping it would just go away but I guess I'm gonna have to break down and go to the dentist."

 

"Probably a good idea. You're not going to make a good impression on the co-eds hanging around in the commissary if you act like that every time you drink a cup of coffee."

 

Johnny grinned. "I'll call and make that appointment first thing tomorrow."

 

~**~

 

"Open a little wider."

 

John groaned inwardly. If he opened any wider, his jaw was going to unhinge. But he did his best to obey.

 

"Good. That's good. Does this hurt?"

 

"Why the hell do dentists insist on asking questions when they know you can't answer?" he wondered. Gage shook his head fractionally, mindful of the wicked looking metal hook in the dentist's hand.

 

"Here?"

 

No.

 

"How about here?"

 

Johnny made an embarrassing noise that could only be described as part squeal and part curse and nearly levitated out of the chair.

 

"We'll call that a yes," Dr. Woods chuckled. "Well, you've got a crack in that tooth. We need to get an x-ray to be sure but it looks like it goes pretty deep. Probably close to the nerve. I'm surprised it took you this long to get in here. It must've hurt like the devil."

 

"Sometimes," Gage admitted sheepishly. "But I thought it would go away."

 

"Thought wrong, didn't you?"

 

Johnny could only nod in resignation. The x-ray was taken and developed in a matter of minutes and the dentist's suspicions were confirmed. "It's nothing I can't fix," he reassured his unhappy patient. "But it's gonna take a lot of drilling and I may have to do some work below the gum line. It'll take some time but as luck would have it, I had a cancellation. I can do it now if you want."

 

"Yeah, all right. I'm done with work for the day. Guess I might as well get it over with."

 

"It'll be fine," Woods patted Johnny on the shoulder and began setting out his supplies. Gage slid down in the chair and tried not to look as one gleaming piece of metal after another was produced and laid out on the tray. "So, John, how did this happen?"

 

Johnny flushed and sunk a little lower in the chair. "Do you really have to know that?"

 

"I don't need all the gory details," Dr. Woods chuckled as he readied the drill. "But if your teeth are cracking on their own, it's cause for concern and I'd like to know about it."

 

"They're not," Gage sighed. "I was in a fight. Got punched in the jaw."

 

"A fight, huh? Was she pretty?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"You win?"

 

"No."

 

The dentist clucked sympathetically and pulled on a pair of gloves. "Well, better luck next time. And I might suggest you learn to duck? Now, let's get you numbed up and get this over with, shall we?"

 

Johnny closed his eyes tightly. The needle was coming and he didn't want to see it. As embarrassing as it was, he had a major phobia about the dentist and practically had to force himself into the chair. He could give an injection or start an IV without flinching but let that tiny syringe come near his mouth and he was reduced to a quivering mound of jelly. His manly pride kept him from admitting it and

asking for nitrous oxide though. Instead he did what he was doing now: squeezed his eyes shut and recited baseball stats in his head until it was over.

 

Something hit the floor on his left with a crunch, causing him to flinch. "Dropped something," Dr. Woods informed him quietly. "Nothing to worry about. Just sit tight."

 

Eyes still firmly closed, Gage heard the man step away and call out to the dental hygienist. "Mary Ann? Get in the narcotics box and get me another vial of cocaine, would you? I dropped this one."

 

It took Johnny all of three seconds to open his eyes, vault out of the chair, cross the room and grab Dr. Woods by the shoulders. "Cocaine?!"

 

"Yes, but not the kind you're thinking of," the dentist hastened to assure him. 'It's an anesthetic. It will help to numb you for the procedure but it won't affect you otherwise."

 

"I know, I know," Johnny ground out impatiently. "Did you use it on me?"

 

"I dropped the bottle …"

 

Gage wanted to shake the elderly man until his teeth rattled but he forced himself to take a couple of deep, calming breaths and release his death grip on the dentist's shoulders. "Dr. Woods, when I was in last spring -- when I had the crown done -- did you use the cocaine then?"

 

"Well, I'd have to look at your chart to be sure but yes, I probably did. I always use it in addition to Novocain when I'm going to be drilling deeply or working below the gum line. As I recall, that was the case with your crown, wasn't it? A lot of the younger dentists don't use it any more but back in my day it was the best alternative and I still rely on it quite a bit. Guess I'm old fashioned that way."

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Johnny wailed, burying his face in his hands.

 

"Tell you?" Dr. Woods stared at him, clearly perplexed. "Well, surely you knew I was giving you anesthetic. You wouldn't have been able to tolerate the procedure otherwise. I'm sure I told you I was numbing you up."

 

"But you didn't tell me it was with cocaine!"

 

"Oh -- well, no, I probably didn't," he admitted. "I usually don't. Some people don't understand that it's not an illegal form of the drug and they react, well -- like you are, John. But, really, it's nothing to concern yourself about. I promise you, there are no ill effects."

 

Gage didn't know whether to laugh of cry. Instead, he sank back into the dentist's chair and patted the stool next to him. "Have a seat, Doc. I need to tell you a story."

 

~**~

 

"I can't believe I was so stupid!"

 

"Now, Johnny …"

 

"No, Roy, it's the truth." Gage jumped up from his seat and paced the DeSoto's back porch restlessly. "I was stupid and that's all there is to it. I knew cocaine was an anesthetic. I knew I'd been to the dentist the day before that first drug test. But I was so sure he only gave me Novocain that I never bothered to pick up the phone and double check it. If I had …" he trailed off with an irritated growl.

 

"So what are you going to do now?"

 

"Go to headquarters first thing in the morning. Try and get my job back."

 

DeSoto leaned back in his chair and regarded the younger man solemnly. " Are you sure you want to do that?"

 

"Am I -- am I sure?" Johnny sputtered. "Of course I'm sure. God, Roy, how can you even ask that?"

 

"Because," Roy said quietly, "these last seven months have been so hard on you. And now you're finally starting to find yourself again, to look forward to the future. You've been making all these plans for college. Do you want to give up and go back to being a paramedic? And what if you take on the fire department and lose? How's that gonna make you feel?"

 

"Who said anything about giving up on college? Why can't I do both? If I can work at a gas station and go to college can't I be a paramedic and go to college? It'll be a little harder to fit in classes around my work schedule, sure, but if I want it bad enough I'll find a way."

 

"And do you want it bad enough?"

 

"What? College? Yeah, I do. I really do. At first it was just a substitute, ya know? Something to do because I couldn't be a paramedic anymore. But now -- well, I've been doing a lot of reading the last few weeks, about the Environmental Studies program, about the environment in general. Did you know there's a hole in the ozone layer? I didn't even know what the ozone layer was until this month

let alone that there was a hole in it. But there is and if we don't do something about it, your great-great-grandchildren are gonna pay the price. And did you know that right here in California the condor is almost extinct? There used to be millions of them and now there are less than a hundred. This is a big deal, Roy. It's important work and I think I'd be good at it. I want to see this thing through."

 

Johnny finally stopped pacing and perched himself on the porch railing. "I'm not giving up on going to school," he said quietly. "But I loved being a paramedic and there's no way I'm gonna to give up the chance to do it again. Hell, going part time it's gonna take me at least six years to finish college. Maybe more. Six years of pumping gas or six years of saving lives -- which would you pick? For me, there's no contest. I'm a paramedic. They might have taken my job but they never took that away from me. I'm a paramedic. In here," he lay a hand on his chest, "I've always been a paramedic. I think I always will be. So, I'm going to headquarters tomorrow and I'm not leaving until they give me my job back. You, uh, you want to come along?"

 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

 

~**~

 

It wasn't that simple of course. First there were a series of endless meetings with the top brass. Lawyers got involved at the department's insistence. "I think they're afraid I'm gonna sue them," Johnny had grumbled. Another round of meetings followed. Then another. Johnny took -- and passed -- a series of drug tests. There was another hearing before the disciplinary committee at which both Dr. Brackett and Dr. Woods testified about the use of cocaine as an anesthetic. By the time the dust had settled nearly six weeks later, John Gage was a fireman again. He didn't expect to be assigned to Station 51, that would have been too much to hope for. Instead, he was working B shift at Station 36, hauling hose until he could re-certify as a paramedic.

 

It was Johnny's third shift back on the job, and the first big fire. He felt the rush of adrenaline as the rig approached the fully-involved building, and had to smile. God, he'd missed that feeling.

 

"What?" his seat-mate, Antonio, asked upon seeing his smile.

 

"Nuthin," Gage said quickly, suddenly embarrassed.

 

"Good to be back, huh?"

 

Johnny let a small grin come to his lips. "Yeah," he admitted, as he pushed his hair back under his helmet. "It is."

 

The engine came to a halt and they got their orders. "Gage, Ruiz, pull an inch-and-a-half to that hydrant over there."

 

"Aye-aye, Cap!" Johnny exclaimed as he and Antonio jumped into action.

 

In no time at all, they were ready to attack the fire. As they were about to make their approach on the blaze, Johnny saw a fellow firefighter in full turnouts moving away from them. Though Johnny couldn't see the other man's face, he knew immediately who it was; he knew by the way the man walked.

 

"ROY?!!" he called out.

 

DeSoto turned and pulled his air mask off. It took him a moment to realize who had called him and when he did his face lit up in a smile and he waved as he approached.

 

"What are you doing on B shift," Gage asked.

 

"Dwyer had a wedding to go to. I switched shifts."

 

"Oh. Good to see ya. Anyone inside?"

 

"Nope, not on a weekend. No one hurt, either."

 

"That's good." Johnny felt Antonio tug slightly on the hose Gage was still holding. "It gotta go. Catch ya later, okay?"

 

"Yeah, later."

 

It was a bad one and getting the fire under control was a battle. Gage and his partner manned a hose the whole time, beating back the flames as best they could. They were finally able to get close to the building, along with another pair on a hose. They had no idea whom they were working next to, as was the norm on big fires like this -- the four men simply worked in unison, everyone knowing what needed to be done.

 

Suddenly, something caught Johnny's attention and he looked up. Something was about to fall from above them. He had no idea what it was and no time to try and figure it out. He looked down and followed its probable trajectory -- right on top of the two guys working along side them.

 

"HEY!" he shouted, pointing up. Antonio heard and shut off their hose. One of the other two guys heard and looked up but the man on lead didn't.

 

Johnny glanced up again and did what came naturally. He dove at the man, hitting him square in the chest and knocking them both out of the way as a huge window, frame and all, came crashing down from the fourth floor.

 

"Hey, man, you all right?" Gage asked while he was still atop the other guy. He finally looked through the facemask of the man's SCBA and saw who it was.

 

"Get off me, Junior," Roy said with a grunt as he started pushing Johnny off.

 

Gage rolled until he was sitting next to his former partner. "You didn't answer me. You okay?"

 

Roy sat up, pulled off his facemask and slid his air tank off his back flexing his shoulders painfully. "Yeah, I'm okay." Just landed on the tank, that's all."

 

Johnny nodded. He knew from experience how painful that was.

 

"Helluva tackle," Roy said.

 

Johnny just shrugged and looked at the shattered window not far from their feet. "Sorry."

 

By now the other two men, who'd witnessed the events, were standing there looking down on them. "You two all right?" Antonio asked, offering John a hand up.

 

"Yeah," Johnny said, taking the offered aid and rising to his feet. He watched as Roy was similarly elped to his feet and noticed for the first time that it had been Roy's partner, Tim, who'd been manning the hose with him.

 

"You two are something else," Ruiz noted. "Different stations, different shifts and you still manage to end up together. You're like Fred and Ginger. Sonny and Cher. Lucy and Ethel."

 

"Old habits die hard, I guess, " Johnny admitted with a grin. He turned his attention to his best friend, totally missing the odd look that crossed Tim's face. "You sure you're okay, Roy? I landed on you pretty hard."

 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get back to work." He bent down and picked up his air tank. "Thanks, Johnny," he said when he stood again.

 

Johnny smiled at Roy and dismissed it with a silent wave of his hand, taking his position back on his

hose.

 

~**~

 

About a month after his reinstatement, Johnny stopped by Station 51 to say hello. "It's funny," he told Roy as they sat in the day room sipping coffee. "Just as I was beginning to accept that this part of my life was over, here I am back on the job."

 

"How does it feel?"

 

"Strange. I like the guys over at 36s, especially Ruiz, but it's a lot different than it was here. Bigger station, more people underfoot all the time. And it's weird working the engine again. It'll be better when I'm working as a paramedic, I think."

 

"When do you find out the results of your test?"

 

"Tomorrow. Brackett's gonna push it through and get it done before the holiday."

 

"Any idea where you'll be assigned?"

 

"Dunno," Johnny shrugged. "Wherever there's an opening, I guess. Rumor has it, Gene Liddic out at 22s is moving to San Francisco. That might not be bad. Won't be the same as working here, of course," he added wistfully.

 

Roy nodded sympathetically. "Art Davis is one of the captains out there at 22s. I went through training with him. He's a good guy. You could do a lot worse. And, hey, ya never know, we might end up working together again once in a while." He got up, grabbed the coffee pot and refilled both their cups. "Oh, and speaking of the holidays …"

 

"I'll be there," Gage interrupted with a smile. "Haven't missed a Turkey Day at the DeSoto's yet, have I? But, uh, Jen's gotten over the costume thing, hasn't she?"

 

Roy grinned at his friend's discomfort. "Sorry, Junior, but no. She was just bugging Jo the other day to iron her dress so it would be ready for Thanksgiving dinner."

 

Johnny groaned and buried his face in his hands.

 

Tim, who'd been quietly washing dishes in the background, turned with a look of horror on his face. "You wear costumes to Thanksgiving dinner? Because you didn't mention that when you invited me."

 

"No," Roy chuckled. "Only Jen. Her class put on a Thanksgiving pageant yesterday and she was Priscilla Mullens. Joanne made her a costume and she just fell in love with the thing. She's planning on wearing it for Thanksgiving dinner. Thinks we should all dress up. Particularly her wise old Indian uncle over here. But he says no."

 

Chet glanced up from the paper with a grin. "Aw, come on Gage. Do it for the kid. Bet you'd look really cute in one of those loin cloth things."

 

"Shut up, Kelly. I've never dressed up in buckskins in my life and I'm not starting now."

 

"Spoilsport." Chet chided before turning back to his paper. "Break the poor kid's heart then."

 

Johnny glared at him. "I'll have you know I've brought her popcorn every year."

 

"Popcorn?" Chet's grin grew wider. "You mean like the first Thanksgiving? Like the Indians brought the Pilgrims popcorn?"

 

"Yeah," Gage admitted, already regretting having mentioned it.

 

"You bring her popcorn?" Kelly was obviously struggling not to laugh.

 

"Yes, I bring her popcorn," Johnny snapped. "The first year I went there for Thanksgiving dinner she was what? Four years old?"

 

Roy nodded.

 

"They'd been studying Thanksgiving in pre-school and she was disappointed that I didn't bring any so now …" he shrugged in embarrassment. "It only takes me five minutes to run into Safeway and get some Jiffy Pop on my way over."

 

"Jiffy Pop?" It was too much for Chet. "You bring her Jiffy Pop?" He could barely choke the words out between gales of laughter. "Gage, you are too much!"

 

~**~

 

"Uncle Johnny, you are such a party pooper." Jennifer, decked out in her Pilgrim costume, stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and stared in disapproval at his jeans and cotton shirt. "You were supposed to wear the fringy shirt and the feathers."

 

"Sorry, Jenny Lynn. But I told you I don't have a fringy shirt and feathers."

 

"Well, why not? You're an Indian, aren't you?"

 

"Half Indian," he acknowledged. "But your dad is half Irish and I don't see him dressing up like a leprechaun on Saint Patrick's Day, do you?"

 

"No," the girl admitted grudgingly. "But he'd look silly anyway. You'd look really neat if you wore the fringy shirt."

 

"Well, thank you, sweetie. And I promise, if I ever get a fringy shirt, you'll be the first one I model it for." Smiling, Johnny produced a Safeway bag from behind his back. "I didn't forget this, though."

 

"Jiffy Pop!" she squealed, snatching the bag eagerly. "Can we make it now?"

 

"I think we better wait until later. We don't want to spoil our appetites before dinner, do we? Besides," he leaned down and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, "if we eat it now, what will we eat when it's time to watch football? Everyone else will have boring, old leftover turkey and we'll have popcorn."

 

"And we won't share with anyone! Not even Chris."

 

"Well, I think we can share with Chris, don't you?"

 

"I guess so," Jennifer replied grudgingly. "But no one else."

 

"It's a deal. So, do you think I can come it now, Miss Jennifer? Or do I have to stand on the front porch all day?"

 

Jen giggled and grabbed his hand, tugging him across the threshold. "Course you can come in, silly. Come watch the parade with me."

 

"I will," he promised. "But I think I better say hello to your mom and dad first, don't you?"

 

"MOM! DAD! UNCLE JOHNNY SAYS HELLO! WE'RE GONNA GO WATCH THE PARADE!" Jen bellowed at the top of her little lungs as she tightened her grip on Johnny's fingers and tugged him inexorably toward the living room.

 

~**~

 

The other guests, Tim and his wife Kathy and Roy's mother Alice, arrived just as the parade was ending and dinner was served soon after. When they'd gathered around a table positively groaning with food, Joanne smiled at her daughter and asked, "Jennifer, would you say the grace, please?"

 

The girl nodded and bowed her head. "God is great. God is good. Now we thank him for our food. Amen," she intoned solemnly. Then, with a sideways glance at Johnny she added, "And all God's children said ..."

 

"Let's eat!" Johnny and the two children chimed in unison.

 

"Not yet," Joanne chided gently. "We all have to take a turn saying what we're grateful for."

 

Chris quickly piped up to announce that he was grateful for his grandmother's pumpkin pie. Jennifer was grateful for her 'bee-yoo-tiful' Pilgrim dress and on around the table they went. Johnny, who in the past had expressed gratitude for the cute new nurse at the admitting desk and the fact that his Land Rover had 90,000 miles on it and was still going strong, glanced around the table with a nervous smile and said, "I've got a lot to be grateful for this year. I'm grateful that I passed my re-certification test. I'm officially a paramedic again."

 

Chris and Jennifer erupted into cheers. Johnny grinned, then blushed as the adults joined in the celebration, some applauding, and some clinking their knives against their wine glasses. "Thanks guys," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "Thanks for sticking by me when I ... "

he trailed off and cleared his throat several times. "I wasn't the easiest person to be a friend to and, well..." Johnny trailed off again, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. There was so much he wanted to say but for some reason he just couldn't seem to find the words.

 

"To friendship," Roy said softly. He raised his glass of wine and the other adults soon followed his example.

 

Johnny flashed him a grateful smile and touched the rim of his glass to Roy's. "To friendship."

 

Across the table, Tim regarded the two men thoughtfully.

 

~**~

 

Joanne had outdone herself that year and by the time the meal was over everyone was lethargic from too much food. "I'll clean up later," Jo announced. "Right now, I'm going to sit down and do absolutely nothing for at least an hour." She and the other women adjourned to the front porch to lounge on the Adirondack chairs and enjoy the afternoon sunshine while the men drifted into the living room to sleep in front of a football game.

 

Johnny, sprawled on one end of the living room sofa with his head bobbing on his chest, was having the most amazing dream. It involved a slice of pumpkin pie, a container of whipped cream and the adorable little co-ed he'd ask for directions when he'd gone to USC to register for classes. Never mind that she'd been all of seventeen and he was probably closer in age to her father than he was to her. This was a dream and as long as it stayed just a dream, he wasn't a dirty old man. There was a smile on his face as he settled deeper into the sofa cushions.

 

"Oooooooh, Johnny," her voice was breathless, sexy, dangerous. She scooped up a finger full of whipped cream and smeared it on her chest, just above the neckline of her low cut blouse. "Want some dessert?"

 

"Baby, you know I..."

 

The scream ripped him from his slumber in a heartbeat. He was on his feet and running before he even understood that it was coming from the kitchen and that it was Jennifer. Roy and Tim were hot on his heels, the women were spilling through the front door in a panic, but Johnny was faster and reached the kitchen first.

 

He was vaguely aware of Roy's horrified gasp, of Joanne screaming "What is it? What's wrong?" He noticed the gas burner on the stove turned on high, the overturned kitchen chair, the Jiffy Pop container on the floor and then the world narrowed down to a pinpoint, blocking out everything

except Jennifer. The sleeve of the little girl's dress was on fire. She was thrashing frantically on the kitchen floor and shrieking at the top of her lungs. Johnny threw himself on top of her, rolling her underneath his body and beating at the flames with his hands. It seemed to take forever, though it was probably only a few seconds, before the flames were out and hands were frantically shoving him aside and reaching for the child.

 

Gage sat on the floor, shaking like a leaf and watched as Roy and Tim descended on the sobbing girl, snatching her up and rushing her to the sink. "How bad is it?" he demanded again, as the remains of her sleeve were cut away and her arm bathed with cool water and wrapped in clean towels. Visions of third degree burns, of skin grafts and scarring danced through his head. "Roy?!" He was beginning to panic. "How bad …"

 

"She's okay," Tim knelt beside him, his voice low and gentle. "She's okay," he repeated more firmly, grabbing the other man by the shoulders and forcing Johnny to face him. "Look at me, John. She's okay. It's not bad. First degree. She'll be fine thanks to you."

 

"You sure?"

 

"Yeah, I'm sure. She probably needs to go to Rampart just to be on the safe side but she's gonna be fine."

 

"Thank God." Johnny started to run a shaking hand through his hair but stopped with a hiss of pain.

 

"What?" Tim grabbed Gage's wrists, turning his palms up. "Oh, John," he breathed in dismay. "Guess you'll be going to Rampart too."

 

"What? Why?" Johnny glanced down and gasped. The palms of his hands were red and small blisters were beginning to form. Suddenly, his hands hurt like hell and he sagged against the nearby counter with a groan.

 

"Let's get those cooled down, okay?" Tim grasped his arms above the elbow and hoisted him carefully to his feet, propelling him to the sink where Jennifer, still weeping piteously, was being comforted by her parents. "We need in here, Roy," he said quietly, stretching around DeSoto to turn on the faucet. "And I need some more dish towels."

 

Roy tore his eyes away from his sobbing child. "Huh? What did you say?" His eyes widened when he saw Johnny's hands. "Oh my God!"

 

"It's okay," Gage assured him shakily. "I'm fine. Take care of Jen."

 

"We gotta get you both to the hospital right now!"

 

"No, just take Jen and go. Don't worry about me."

 

"Not a chance, Junior. You just saved my daughter's life and if you think for one minute I'm gonna walk out of here and leave you behind..." Roy's voice wavered dangerously. "We need to go to the hospital," he choked out. "I'll go get the car."

 

Tim stopped him, plucking the keys from Roy's shaking hand. "You're in no shape to drive. Stay here, Roy. Take care of your daughter. Take care of your partner. I'll bring the car around to the back door.

 

If anyone even noticed that Tim had referred to Johnny as Roy's partner, they didn't think to correct him.

 

~**~

 

"How you doing, Johnny?" Roy stood in the exam room doorway, his forehead creased with concern.

 

"I'm okay," Gage reassured him, even as he flinched and bit back a yelp of pain. Dr. Morton was debriding the blisters on his hands and it hurt like hell in spite of the care the doctor was taking. "Don't worry about me, Roy. You should be with Jen."

 

"Jennifer's okay. Her dress is in worse shape than she is."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah. First degree burns around the wrist and back of her hand. Not really much worse than a sunburn. Brackett put a dressing on it, gave her something for pain. She'll be good as new in a few days. Tim's gonna drive her and Joanne home and then come back for us."

 

"Thank God," John sighed, visibly sagging with relief. "But listen, you don't have to stay with me. Go be with your daughter. I can catch a cab back to your place when I'm done."

 

"Right," DeSoto snorted, dragging a stool over to Johnny's beside and plopping down onto it. "I'm gonna just run off and leave you here by yourself. Didn't we already have this conversation back at the house?" He turned his attention to Morton. So, how's he doing, Doc?"

 

"Well, aside from his inability to hold still..."

 

"It hurts!" Johnny protested.

 

"Aside from his inability to hold still," Morton repeated dryly, "he's doing fine. First degree burns on the palms of both hands. A few blisters here and there. Painful but not serious. Sounds like I'm going to give him the same instructions Kel gave Jennifer. Neomycin cream and a gauze dressing, keep it clean and dry, take it easy for a couple days and that should take care of it. Oh, and I'm going to give you some Naproxen too," he added, glancing up at Johnny. "Ipuprofen should be enough to handle the pain but I want you to have something stronger just in case."

 

"Okay," Johnny nodded. He wasn't much for taking prescription meds but some Naproxen sounded pretty good at that moment. "What about work, Doc? I'm supposed to pull my first shift as a paramedic day after tomorrow."

 

"Take the day off," Morton advised, gently cleaning the burns with sterile water and patting them dry. "Your hands are probably still going to hurt too much for you to do much of anything. You work every third day, right?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"So the next shift after that would be what? Tuesday? You should be okay to go back by then." Mike grabbed a tube of Naproxen and a couple rolls of gauze from the supply cabinet. "Roy, you want to do me a favor and start putting the dressings on while I go get some Naproxen for Johnny to take home?"

 

"Sure, Doc. Be glad to." Roy repositioned his stool, donned a pair of gloves and set to work. "You tell me if I hurt you, okay?" he said as he carefully smeared the thick antibiotic cream on his friend's hands.

 

"I'm gonna be fine Roy. Really."

 

"I know. I just -- you saved Jen's life and I -- oh hell." He trailed off helplessly and concentrated on his task in silence.

 

"You woulda done the same thing," Gage said quietly. "So would Tim. So would anyone. I just got there first is all."

 

"Yeah, well, thanks anyway."

 

"You're welcome."

 

Mike Morton returned a moment later and the two men had Johnny's hands bandaged in no time. "All done," the doctor announced, applying the last piece of tape to the dressing. He filled a paper bag with supplies and handed it to Roy. "More gauze, more Neomycin and a two day supply of Naproxen for pain. Come back in three or four days for a recheck, Johnny, sooner if you see any sign of infection, okay"?

 

"I will," he promised.

 

"All right then. You're good to go as soon as your ride gets here."

 

"Great. Thanks, Doc."

 

"Just doin' my job," the doctor replied with a smile. Then he sobered and added, "Before you leave, Gage, I owe you an apology."

 

Johnny's brows drew together in puzzlement. "An apology? What for?"

 

"For the last time I saw you here." Morton stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then back again. "You told me you were innocent and I didn't believe you. I just, uh, just wanted you to know that I'm sorry."

 

Seeing the normally blustering Mike Morton fidget nervously made Johnny uncomfortable and he hastened to reassure him. "It's okay, Doc. You weren't the only one thinking the worst of me. Hell, for a while there, I didn't think too much of myself. But it's over now and I think we all need to move on, ya know?"

 

"Yeah, I guess." Morton nodded and managed a ghost of a smile. "But I am sorry, Johnny. Truly sorry. And it's good to have you back."

 

"You'll be singing a different tune first time we lock horns over a patient," Johnny teased gently.

 

"I probably will," Mike allowed and this time his smile was genuine. "But you know, I think I'm looking forward to it."

 

"Me too, Doc. Me too."



~**~

 

"Oh, Johnny," Joanne flung herself on him the moment he stepped through the door. She was careful not to bump his injured hands, but she hugged him fiercely nonetheless. "Thank God you're all right! I am so, so very sorry. I should've been keeping an eye on Jen. But I never thought -- she knows better than to ... "

 

"It's okay," he reassured her, looping his arms carefully around her back. "I'm okay. Jen's okay. That's all that matters."

 

"You're right," Jo drew back, sniffling and dabbing her red-rimmed eyes with a tissue. "But I'm still sorry you were hurt. You're going to stay with us until you're hands are better, aren't you?"

 

Gage opened his mouth to protest but Roy stopped him by leaning in and murmuring in his ear, "Say yes now and save yourself the argument."

 

Johnny shot his friend an irritated look and turned back to Joanne. "Thanks, Jo, really. But that's not necessary. I don't want to impose and I can manage just fine on my own."

 

Joanne planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. Johnny had to bite back a grin. He'd seen Jennifer in exactly the same pose a hundred times. Now he knew where she got it from. "Let me rephrase that," Jo said calmly. "You WILL stay with us until your hands are better."

 

"Joanne ..."

 

She cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips. "Don't argue with me, John Gage. This is the way it's gonna be: Roy will drive you home and help you pack some things. Then he will drive you back here where you will stay through the weekend. Is that clear?"

 

"Just nod and smile," Roy's voice, liberally laced with amusement, was back in his ear. This time, Johnny obeyed.

 

"Thank you, Joanne," he added for good measure. "I'd love to stay."

 

That earned him a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Good! Now go sit down and make yourself comfortable. It's been a couple of hours since dinner. I bet you're ready for a piece of Alice's famous pumpkin pie, aren't you?"

 

"Maybe just a little piece," he allowed.

 

"Well, go on and sit down then and I'll bring it to you."

 

True to her word, Joanne was back within minutes, bearing pie and coffee on a tray. But she didn't come alone. Jennifer trailed behind her. The girl's face was red and blotchy from crying and the short-sleeved shirt she now wore revealed a sizeable bandage around her hand and wrist. She hovered behind her mother, eyes firmly fixed on the shag carpeting, her uninjured hand twining nervously in her long, blonde hair.

 

"Jennifer has something to say to you, Johnny," Joanne announced as she set the tray on the coffee table in front of him. "Go on, Jen." She pushed the girl forward gently but Jennifer just stood there, silent tears coursing down her cheeks.

 

Mindful of both their injuries, Johnny reached for her tentatively, taking the hem of her shirt between his fingertips and giving a tug. "Come 'ere," he said softly. "Jenny Lynn? It's all right. Come 'ere."

 

And then she was in his lap, sobbing against his chest, the words flowing from her in a torrent. "I'm sorry, Uncle Johnny! I'm so, so, so sorry! I didn't mean to be a bad. I know I'm not s'posed to use the stove by myself. I know I shouldn't of tried to make the popcorn by myself but the football game was on and you were asleep and I didn't have nothing to do and I thought -- oh, Uncle Johnny, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm ...."

 

John wrapped his arms around her and patted her back as best he could. "It's okay, sweetheart," he murmured. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it. Come on now, please stop crying."

 

She did, eventually, though it took a long time for her to cry herself out. Then she curled up at his side, lay her head on his shoulder and flatly refused to leave him. It was all he could do to convince her that, no, it wasn't necessary for her to feed him his piece of pie.

 

~**~

 

Johnny fled the DeSoto's house on Sunday evening. He loved his former partner's family and he enjoyed spending time with them but an entire long holiday weekend was definitely too much of a good thing. He needed peace and quiet. He needed to sit around watching TV in his underwear, sleep in his own bed and eat Spaghetti-Os cold out of the can for breakfast because he liked them that way. It was time to go home.

 

On Monday morning, he went to Rampart to have the burns on his hands rechecked. When he was finished, he wandered out to the nurse's station to talk to Dixie.

 

"Oh, man! Who is that?" Johnny practically twisted his head right off his neck watching a very attractive woman push a portable x-ray machine down the ER hall.

 

"John Gage, you are incorrigible."

 

"Yeah," he replied, leaning against the edge of the desk with a cocky smile on his face. "But it's one of my most charming features. Drives the chicks wild."

 

Dixie did her best to glare at him before finally caving in and returning his smile. "Okay, you're right," she sighed. "And before you ask, her name is Laurel, she's single and she just moved to town so I doubt she's seeing anyone."

 

"Thanks, Dix. You're a peach." The woman had disappeared into treatment room three so he stationed himself outside the door to wait. She was way too cute to risk missing. The door opened a moment later and Gage looked up with an expectant smile. The smile faded a bit when Laurel failed to appear. Instead he found himself face to face with Roy and Tim.

 

"Hey, Johnny. What are you doing here?"

 

"Came for my recheck." He held up his hands, now free of bandages. "Doc Early gave me the all-clear to go back to work tomorrow."

 

"Terrific!" Roy clapped him companionably on the back. "Hey, Tim and I were gonna grab a cup of coffee before we head back. You want to join us?"

 

"Um, well, I was sort of waiting for someone?" He glanced meaningfully at the exam room door.

 

Roy grinned knowingly. "Laurel?"

 

"You got it."

 

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but she's in there making some pretty serious gooey eyes atDoctor Brackett and he doesn't seem to mind."

 

"You're kidding me, right?"

 

"Nope."

 

Johnny cast a pleading look at Tim. "Please tell me he's just putting me on."

 

"Sorry, John. No can do. There are some serious sparks flying in that room."

 

"Damn. Well, guess we might as well go get that coffee. Looks like I got nothing better to do."

 

Tim glanced at Roy. "Have we just been insulted?"

 

"Yeah, I think we have."

 

~**~

 

Roy excused himself to go to the restroom leaving Johnny and Tim alone on the patio just off the hospital cafeteria. The two men watched in appreciative silence as a group of student nurses came in and settled at a nearby table then Tim spoke up tentatively, "So, uh, Roy tells me it's official that you're taking over Liddic's spot at 22s."

 

"Yep. Start tomorrow."

 

"Well, I was wondering, do you want to switch with me?"

 

"Whatcha mean? Switch shifts?" Johnny tore his eyes away from the nurses and gave Tim a curious look. "I don't mind trading with ya, but are you sure you want to work a double?"

 

"I didn't mean just for one shift. I meant permanently."

 

Gage stared at him, mouth agape. "Huh?"

 

"I'll take the job at 22s and you can take over for me at 51s. I know you'd be happier there."

 

"Tim, man, I couldn't ask you to do that."

 

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

 

Johnny shook his head. "I can't do it, Tim. Much as I'd love to, I can't accept. You forget, I know you've got the best gig in the department."

 

"I know it too," Tim replied gently. "But I gave this a lot of thought. Roy's a great guy and I like working at 51s but it's like -- I dunno -- we're just partners and I'd like to think we're friends but the two of you -- well, it's like Ruiz said. Fred and Ginger. Or Laurel and Hardy," he teased. "You're like family. It's kinda spooky, really, the way you always seem to know what the other one's thinking, the way you finish each other's sentences. I'd like to have that kind of relationship with my partner someday. But it's a once in a lifetime deal if you're lucky and it's not gonna happen with me and Roy. It's already happened for Roy and it was with you. And hell, I'm an easy-going guy. I can work anywhere. So, whaddya say?"

 

"I say -- I -- uh. Wow, Tim. I don't know what to say."

 

"How 'bout yes?"

 

"Yes! Yes, of course, yes!" Johnny sank back in his seat, dazed. "Thanks, man. Really. I don't know how I'm ever gonna repay you for this."

 

"Aw, it's no big deal. 22s is closer to my house and B shift works better with Kathy's schedule. Plus, I don't have to listen to DeSoto bitch about that bird house anymore. If anything, you're doing me a favor."

 

~**~

 

It took nearly a week for the transfer to go through but Johnny was officially reassigned to Station 51. The night before his first shift, Roy threw him a celebratory barbeque complete with steaks on the grill, loud music and a rather wobbly 'welcome back' banner made by Chris and Jennifer. All his old friends were there: the guys from the station, Dixie and the gang from Rampart, many of the same people who'd been at the hearing all those months ago. And there were new friends as well: Tim and his wife, Nick and Brian from the filling station. Even Sonya had come and, since her boyfriend was out of town, she'd brought a friend from work. A very pretty, very available friend from work.

 

Mid-way through the evening, Johnny mounted the porch steps attempted to stumble through a thank you speech. "Oh, hell," he groaned in defeat after two endless minutes of red-faced stammering. "I'm no good at this kind of thing and you guys know it. So I'm just gonna say thanks and I love you all and can we cut that cake now? I'm starved!"

 

~**~

 

"Oh, man!" he groaned, slipping quietly in the back door. His first day back and he was running late. It wasn't his fault. It was raining buckets and traffic had all but ground to a halt. But he was never gonna hear the end of it if he missed roll call.

 

He sat a box of clothes and other belongings on the bench and stripped off his damp jacket. "Gotta hurry," he muttered to himself as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He threw open the door to his locker -- and froze.

 

His Smoky the Bear poster was taped to the door right where he'd left it nearly ten months ago. He'd been in such a rush to get in and out the day he'd come to clean out his locker that he'd forgotten it. By the time he remembered, he'd isolated himself from his former colleagues and didn't have the nerve to come back and see if it was still there. He'd given it up for lost months ago. And there it was. Right where it had always been. Surely Tim hadn't left it up. He'd have had his own pictures. Roy must have done it, Johnny reasoned, running the tips of his fingers across the worn paper. He must have found it, saved it all this time and taped it up as a sort of a welcome home present. It was exactly the sort of thing Roy would do.

 

"It wasn't me."

 

Gage nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd been so caught up in his reverie he hadn't heard his partner come in. "What?"

 

"It wasn't me," Roy repeated. "It was Chet."

 

"Chet?! You're kidding me?"

 

"Nope. He came in early this morning so he could tape it up and have it waiting for you. But don't tell him I told you, okay? I think it's supposed to be a secret."

 

"B-but why? Why would he do this? Of all people..."

 

"Because he's your friend," Roy said simply. "Because he missed you. Because he's glad you're back. We all are, Johnny. Tim's a great guy, but it just wasn't the same without you here. You and you're wild schemes and your girlfriends calling all hours of the day and night." DeSoto paused, as if he'd suddenly realized he was on the brink of getting maudlin. "Anyway, welcome back. And Cap sent me in to tell you roll call starts in five minutes and unless you want to mark your return to the station with a month's worth of latrine duty, you better get a move on."

 

"Yeah, okay. I'll be right there." Roy left and Johnny turned back to his locker to finish changing. He was overwhelmed. By Tim's generosity. By Chet's unexpected kindness. By all the little things his friends had said and done over the past few months to let him know he was loved. Someday, somehow, he'd find a way to repay them. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a touch of bitterness as he stood there. For the injustice of it all, for pain he'd endured, for the things he'd nearly lost.

 

"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "None of that." It had been a long, difficult year, one he wouldn't want to repeat. But he'd survived and he liked to think he was a better man for having done so.

 

"One minute, Gage!"

 

Cap. And he sounded impatient. Johnny threw his belongings into the locker and slammed the door shut. There would be time for sentimentality later. Right now, he was late. "Coming," he called breathlessly. Still tucking his shirt into place, and stumbling a bit over an untied shoelace, he dashed out of the locker room -- and was drenched by a water bomb of epic proportions. "Oh, man! Chet, I'm gonna kill you!"

 

John Gage had come home.

 

The End

 

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