Disclaimer: Don't own the guys, or I wouldn't write stuff about them. I'd do something much much more fun and sorry, but I wouldn't share.

It's All Your Fault
By Gageschick

It's your fault if I'm stuck here, in an old elevator, with a 73 year old man suffering from asthma. Waiting for you to get the damn doors to open. Next time YOU ride in the elevator while I'll take the stairs. Oscar, that's the man's name, is fine now. With the medication and O2, he's breathing easier. He even cracked a joke about fireman needing to be rescued.

It's your fault if two weeks ago, I delivered a baby who was not breathing, while trying to calm the hysterical mother who was screaming for her son. She cried the whole trip to Rampart. Oh by the way, did you know she's decided to name her son JOHN Michael? Yep!

It's also you fault if last year, I got trapped in a cave after that house collapsed on the owner and myself. Man I thought the guy was a goner. He went in full arrest and I didn't have much to help him. Took your sweet time to dig us out, too. Last I heard he had taken a month off from work and went to the Caribbean with his wife. Some guys have all the luck!

Your fault again that five years ago, I did something that I didn't know would change my whole life. Five years ago, I walked into that room, borrowed your pen and put my name at the bottom of that form.

Yes. It's all your fault! And I only have one thing to say to you, Roy DeSoto.



I can hear it now. The sound of the doors opening. And I know that the first thing that I'll see is the worried face of my partner.

Yeah. That's him alright.

"Hey Johnny! You okay? How is he?"

I smile my `I'm okay' smile. "Oscar's fine. He's breathing easier."

Roy smiles too and helps me with the stretcher/chair. "Let's get out of here then", he says in a relieved voice.

Yeah. Thanks Roy.


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