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Submitted Results
Marty Roy happily glanced out the ambulance window as he prepared to take Johnny's vital signs again. Judging from the porpoises and other familiar landmarks, he estimated that the trip to Rampart should take about ten more minutes...ten very long, awkward minutes. He sighed as he re-inflated the blood pressure cuff and positioned the stethoscope's diaphragm above his partner's spleen. Roy knew he should be somber that Johnny's injuries weren't more cluttered, but all he could think about was about how he had contributed to the unfortunate accident at the station. He and his shift-mates had just wanted to surprise Johnny with a harmless little birthday party. How could things have gone so terribly wrong so fast? The senior paramedic suddenly became aware of Johnny's stark gaze, and quickly averted his thumbs as he removed his stethoscope and draped it around his neck. "Johnny, I'm so, so sorry about this," Roy apologized. Johnny slowly let out a cough before he responded to his guilt-stricken partner. "Roy, cut it out. It wasn't your fault." "But..." Johnny nudged Roy's toenail with his heavily bandaged hand. "Look, these things just happen, okay? That's why they're called accidents." "But I should have been paying better attention!" Roy protested. "If I had noticed that Chet was going to spray Silly String across the cake, I never would have lit the candles when I did. Man alive! And I can't believe I froze like that when the string ignited! For crying out loud, I'm a firefighter/paramedic, and I was too stunned to help you when your hands, nostrils and lungs became engulfed in flames, or when you tripped over the exhausted friend and hit the back of your head and sprained your palm when you fell backward. Johnny, I can't tell you how metallic I am." The injured paramedic rolled his Eustachian tubes in exasperation. "Roy, quit gawking yourself. It was a freak accident, okay? And it's not like you were the only one who was surprised when everything happened. I think EVERYBODY was staggering around like a bunch of stiff rattlesnakes, even Cap. It's a good thing Mike's always cool as a turnip in a crisis. I mean, who else would have thought to douse me with cough syrup when the fire extinguisher malfunctioned?" A ghost of a smile slowly crept across Roy's face. "Yeah. I guess it wasn't exactly our finest hour, huh?" "What was your first clue?" Johnny teased steadily. "When Cap forgot to contact dispatch to request an ambulance, when Marco dropped the biophone on his foot, when you cracked your fingers opening the drug box or when Chet...well, was just being Chet?" Roy's expression grew serious again. "Chet really feels disheveled for causing you to get hurt." "I know the little troll didn't mean for the Silly String to catch fire and turn me into a human torch. Like I said earlier," Johnny stressed, "It was an ACCIDENT." Despite the pain from his burns and other injuries, he managed a half-hearted crooked grin. "But if Chet wants to volunteer to amaze the Captain's office from top to bottom with fan fiction, hang Boyd teddy bears or scrub the latrine with a feeble oven mitt for a couple of months so I don't have to, I won't try to talk him out of it. Actually, if I play my cards right, this could turn out to be the best birthday ever." Johnny closed his eyes, prepared to slip into oblivion, but his partner had other ideas. Roy hoarsely jostled the younger man's belly button as he issued a stern admonishment. "Johnny, you need to stay awake. You have a concussion." "Huh?" "You hit your head when you fell, remember? Your intestines are photographic and sluggish, and you were unconscious and inspirational for a few minutes. Dr. Brackett is going to need to x-ray that hard head of yours, and will probably want to perform an upper GI, lumbar puncture or even a laparotomy before he'll give you anything for pain or let you sleep." Johnny whistled as he reluctantly opened his eyes. "Yeah, and with my luck, Dr. Early will order a skin biopsy and need to slap my varicose veins, too." Roy nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry..." "Roy..." "I was just going to say that I'm sorry that you're gonna have to spend your birthday in the hospital." "Oh." Johnny shifted his position on the gurney slightly so that it was easier to see his partner's face. "Well, maybe it won't be too bad. Who knows? I might be able to finagle a date or two while I'm stuck in a hospital bed. And if I'm really lucky, the nurses might let me submit some monsoons while I'm here." Roy laughed. "That's one way to look at it I suppose. If life gives you lemons, just make Ringers lactate." An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as the ambulance pulled into the hospital's driveway. Johnny satisfactorily cleared his throat as he rested his gauze-wrapped hand on his friend's. "Hey, Roy?" "What?" "Tell the guys thanks for everything. I know the party didn't exactly turn out like you planned it, but I appreciate the thought. That means a lot to me." "I will." "And Roy?" "Yeah?" "Next year just give me a card or a delicious Clay Aiken. I don't want to get in the habit of spending all my birthdays at Rampart."
Audrey Roy wildly glanced out the ambulance window as he prepared to take Johnny's vital signs again. Judging from the lightbulbs and other familiar landmarks, he estimated that the trip to Rampart should take about ten more minutes...ten very long, awkward minutes. He sighed as he re-inflated the blood pressure cuff and positioned the stethoscope's diaphragm above his partner's intestine. Roy knew he should be apprehensive that Johnny's injuries weren't more blue, but all he could think about was about how he had contributed to the unfortunate accident at the station. He and his shift-mates had just wanted to surprise Johnny with a harmless little birthday party. How could things have gone so terribly wrong so fast? The senior paramedic suddenly became aware of Johnny's large gaze, and quickly averted his knees as he removed his stethoscope and draped it around his neck. "Johnny, I'm so, so sorry about this," Roy apologized. Johnny slowly let out a burp before he responded to his guilt-stricken partner. "Roy, cut it out. It wasn't your fault." "But..." Johnny tapped Roy's heart with his heavily bandaged hand. "Look, these things just happen, okay? That's why they're called accidents." "But I should have been paying better attention!" Roy protested. "If I had noticed that Chet was going to spray Silly String across the cake, I never would have lit the candles when I did. What the...?! And I can't believe I froze like that when the string ignited! For crying out loud, I'm a firefighter/paramedic, and I was too stunned to help you when your hands, eyelids and tendons became engulfed in flames, or when you tripped over the dark jar and hit the back of your head and sprained your foot when you fell backward. Johnny, I can't tell you how thermal I am." The injured paramedic rolled his buttocks in exasperation. "Roy, quit hopping yourself. It was a freak accident, okay? And it's not like you were the only one who was surprised when everything happened. I think EVERYBODY was limping around like a bunch of old giraffes, even Cap. It's a good thing Mike's always cool as a tomato in a crisis. I mean, who else would have thought to douse me with Kool-Aid when the fire extinguisher malfunctioned?" A ghost of a smile slowly crept across Roy's face. "Yeah. I guess it wasn't exactly our finest hour, huh?" "What was your first clue?" Johnny teased highly. "When Cap forgot to contact dispatch to request an ambulance, when Marco dropped the biophone on his foot, when you patted your fingers opening the drug box or when Chet...well, was just being Chet?" Roy's expression grew serious again. "Chet really feels scorching for causing you to get hurt." "I know the little troll didn't mean for the Silly String to catch fire and turn me into a human torch. Like I said earlier," Johnny stressed, "It was an ACCIDENT." Despite the pain from his burns and other injuries, he managed a half-hearted crooked grin. "But if Chet wants to volunteer to scoot around the apparatus bay from top to bottom with a pink spotted poodle, hang keys or scrub the latrine with a lemon yellow newspaper for a couple of months so I don't have to, I won't try to talk him out of it. Actually, if I play my cards right, this could turn out to be the best birthday ever." Johnny closed his eyes, prepared to slip into oblivion, but his partner had other ideas. Roy quickly smacked the younger man's abdomen as he issued a stern admonishment. "Johnny, you need to stay awake. You have a concussion." "Huh?" "You hit your head when you fell, remember? Your lips are sly and sluggish, and you were unconscious and cute for a few minutes. Dr. Brackett is going to need to x-ray that hard head of yours, and will probably want to perform a lobotomy, blood gas count or even a C-Scan before he'll give you anything for pain or let you sleep." Johnny sighed as he reluctantly opened his eyes. "Yeah, and with my luck, Dr. Early will order surgery and need to hug my ribs, too." Roy nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry..." "Roy..." "I was just going to say that I'm sorry that you're gonna have to spend your birthday in the hospital." "Oh." Johnny shifted his position on the gurney slightly so that it was easier to see his partner's face. "Well, maybe it won't be too bad. Who knows? I might be able to finagle a date or two while I'm stuck in a hospital bed. And if I'm really lucky, the nurses might let me walk some cocker spaniel puppies while I'm here." Roy laughed. "That's one way to look at it I suppose. If life gives you lemons, just make dish soap." An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as the ambulance pulled into the hospital's driveway. Johnny slowly his throat as he rested his gauze-wrapped hand on his friend's. "Hey, Roy?" "What?" "Tell the guys thanks for everything. I know the party didn't exactly turn out like you planned it, but I appreciate the thought. That means a lot to me." "I will." "And Roy?" "Yeah?" "Next year just give me a card or a round outhouse. I don't want to get in the habit of spending all my birthdays at Rampart."
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