RECLAMATION - Part 4

Chapter Sixteen

The closer they got to her apartment, the more Francie's stomach fluttered.  She should have called a cab, although she had no idea how much they cost, and besides, she wasn't sure what Johnny might think if she'd balked at his offer to drive her home.  She knew he wasn't quite on even ground when it came to self esteem.  She was afraid he would see her refusal as a rejection.

But the thought of him seeing the rundown complex she lived in, especially after they'd just spent the afternoon scoffing at places that were a million times nicer than hers, was tying her stomach in knots.  And she didn't even want to think about the chance that he might see her mother.  Hopefully he would just drop her off and wouldn't ask to come in.

It was hard to make conversation.  Johnny must have sensed something was wrong, for he stopped trying to get her to talk to him.  He drove in silence, and she hoped he just assumed she was upset about her car.

As they neared her neighborhood, her directions grew more and more terse.  And by the time he pulled into the visitor parking at her complex, she wasn't even able to look at him.  As soon as he put the Rover in park she reached for the door, but Johnny took hold of her arm to stop her.  She froze.

"I grew up on a reservation," he stated simply and let go of her.  "So I've got ya beat."

She sat for a long minute before she finally turned.  There was nothing but understanding in his face.  No judgment.  No criticism.  The wave of relief that washed over her filled up her eyes with tears, but she managed not to shed them.  She even produced a weak smile before Johnny got out of the car and came around to open her door for her.

"You don't have to come with me," she protested, when he started to walk her upstairs.

"Hey, what kind of a gentleman lets a girl walk to her door alone in the dark?" he asked with mock sternness.

It wasn't really dark yet, but she didn't argue as they climbed the steps and arrived at her apartment.  She didn't know if he sensed she wasn't comfortable with inviting him inside, or if he himself wasn't ready for that.  But he didn't make an issue of it.  He simply told her he'd had fun today and he'd talk to her later.  Then, after making sure she'd gotten the door unlocked and open, he turned and walked back downstairs.  She watched him head toward his car, then turned and walked into the apartment.

The first thing she saw was her mother lying passed out on the couch.

Oh, Mom.  You didn't even make it to the bedroom.

She walked over and pulled the old afghan off the back of the couch to cover her.  She frowned a bit at the half-empty bottles on the coffee table.  They were liquor - hard liquor - and her mom usually stuck to beer.  The brief conversation they'd had earlier flashed through her mind.  Her mom, home from work and drunk too early.

"Mom?  Hey, Mom?  You okay?"

She sat down on the side of the couch and lay her hand against her mom's cheek.  Her skin seemed clammy.

"Mom?"

Feeling the beginning of panic, Francie took her mother by the shoulders and shook her slightly.

"Mom?  Come on, Mom."

She glanced around the room, wondering what she was supposed to do.  That was when she noticed the small, amber colored bottle on the coffee table.  It was empty and had no label, but there was no mistaking what it was.

Oh, God, Mom.  Pills!

Without another thought, Francie ran to the door and flung it open, running halfway down the stairs.

"Johnny!  Johnny! I need help!"

* * *

Johnny had just reached the Rover when he heard Francie's frantic cry.  He spun around and retraced his steps, running as fast as he could, dodging around small hedges and carelessly strewn toys.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he met Francie part way up the stairs.

"My mom," she told him, grabbing onto his arms like a lifeline.  "I think she's O.D.ed."  They rushed up the rest of the stairs together, Francie talking the whole way.  "She's passed out... there's booze everywhere... and pills... She's never done pills before."

As they entered the living room, Johnny saw a middle aged woman lying on the couch.  He rushed over, shoved the coffee table out of the way, then knelt down beside her.  She was pale and her face was haggard.  The paramedic in him instantly pegged her as a long time alcohol abuser.  She probably wasn't near as old as she looked.  He reached to find her carotid.  It was there, but slow.  So were her respirations.

"What's her name?" he asked Francie, trying to keep his voice even so not to frighten her.

"Maggie," Francie answered.  She stood a few feet away chewing on her bottom lip, her arms wrapped around herself.  She looked like she was barely holding it together, and he needed her to stay calm.  She needed something to do.

"Okay.  Francie... I need you to call for help.  Dial 911.  Tell them to send a squad and an ambulance.  Can you do that?"

She nodded and moved toward the kitchen.  Johnny turned to the unconscious woman.  From what Francie had said, and judging from the evidence around him, Maggie had certainly been mixing alcohol and drugs; most likely barbiturates.

"Maggie!" he called loudly.  "Maggie, can you hear me?"

He got no response.  Standing up, he rubbed her sternum with his knuckle and got a very faint reaction.

"Maggie?  Come on, Maggie, stay with us."

"I called.  They said they're sending somebody," Francie reported.  "Is she going to be okay?"

"I can't tell right now," Johnny answered truthfully.  "But a squad should be here in a minute.  Come over here and help me."

Francie did as he asked and moved to the head of the couch.

"I want to turn her on her side," he instructed.  "Help me shift her."

"Why?" Francie asked, but she was already doing what she could to help turn her mother.

"In case she starts to throw up," Johnny answered.  "That way she won't aspirate it into her lungs."

They managed to get her turned as gently as possible.  And just in time, for she suddenly started gagging.

"Oh, Mom..."  Francie ran down the hall and came back with a wet rag to wipe her mother's face.

Johnny was at a loss.  There wasn't much else he could do except keep track of her vitals.  It was frustrating.  His hands knew exactly what to do - were itching for equipment he didn't have.

What the hell's takin' 'em so long?

And then he heard the comforting and unmistakable sound of an approaching siren.

* * *

Roy rinsed off the last plate and handed it to Brad Martin.  Because of a multiple MVA late in the afternoon, dinner had been late, and now he and his partner were stuck here even later doing the clean up.  Cap was in his office waging his non-ending war with paperwork, and the rest of the guys were spread around the day room watching television.  They were all hoping they had a quiet night.

The tones sounded just as Roy and Brad finished up the dishes and came over to sit down and relax.

"Oh, man... it never fails," the younger paramedic griped as they got up off the couch.

Roy chuckled lightly at the familiar complaint as they trotted out to the squad.

Squad 51... woman down... possible overdose... 139 W. Littleton... Apt. 29.  One - Three - Nine - W. Littleton... Apartment Two - Nine.  Cross Streets - Avalon and Main.  Time Out - Twenty-Fifteen.

Cap had come out of his office to acknowledge the call.  He handed Roy the call slip as the senior paramedic climbed into the squad.  He settled his helmet on his head, then handed the paper to Brad as he got in and shut the passenger side door.  Then Roy turned on their sirens and pulled out of the bay.

Brad tugged at the chin strap on his helmet while he looked at the address.

"This is way up in 116's territory," he announced with dismay.  "It's gonna take us at least ten minutes to get there."

"I hope this lady has ten minutes," Roy stated grimly.  It wasn't unusual to cover another squad's area if they were tied up, but it wasn't the best of circumstances.  And while some people wouldn't consider a few minutes extra drive time a big deal, both paramedics knew too well that for some patients, that few minutes could mean the difference between life and death.

Fortunately it was late enough that traffic had died down.  But it still took longer to get to the apartment complex than Roy was happy with.  He pulled into the parking area and killed the engine, getting out and tossing his helmet back into the cab.  The sun had set, but there was still enough light to get a view of the rundown group of buildings.

"Boy, is this place a dump or what?" Brad commented drily as Roy joined him at the compartments.

Roy spared a moment to glance around the place, silently agreeing with his partner.  He grabbed the biophone and drug box, leaving Brad to get the oxygen and scope.  By the time they walked into the courtyard a curious crowd had gathered.

"Where's number 29?" Roy asked the group of spectators.

A shaggy headed little boy with bare feet pointed upstairs at the same time someone called to them.

"Up here... hurry."

Instinct kept his feet moving in spite of the total shock of seeing Johnny's dark head disappear back into the open apartment door.

"Was that Gage?" Brad asked as they rushed up the concrete stairs.

"Yeah," Roy answered.  "And I don't have a clue."  He wasn't even sure Johnny realized it was him responding to the call.

When they entered the small apartment, several things registered at once.  The woman on the couch looked in bad shape.  Francie was kneeling next to the woman's head, wiping her face with a rag of some kind, and Johnny looked as surprised at seeing him as Roy had been a few minutes earlier.

But explanations could wait.  The woman on the couch was in trouble.

"What's going on?" Roy asked as he and Brad moved in.  Roy began taking vitals as Brad set up the link with Rampart.

"We don't know for sure, but it looks like alcohol and downers," Johnny told him.  "Her vitals are depressed."

They certainly were.  As Roy began patching her in for the strip he knew Rampart would ask for, Johnny grabbed the oxygen and got it started on the woman.  Roy gave him a grateful nod.

"Does she have a history of this sort of thing?" he asked as he worked.  He saw Johnny glance up at Francie for the answer.

The girl shook her head.  "Not the pills.  She... she drinks... but normally only beer.  I... I don't know what happened tonight."

He could tell by her voice she was losing it.  Johnny got up and moved over to stand beside her.  He put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his chest.

"We got her turned before she aspirated," Johnny informed him, his free hand moving to stroke Francie's hair in a comforting gesture.

Roy averted his eyes from this display of closeness and merely nodded.  "Good thing."

The next few minutes were busy as Rampart had them send in a strip, then start an airway and an I.V.  Roy and Brad had their hands full trying to stabilize the woman enough to transport her, but they were finally given the word to bring her in.

Roy signaled the attendants to bring the gurney in, and in a few moments they were ready to go.  But when they took her out the door, and Brad grabbed the biophone and followed them out, Francie pulled away from Johnny and tried to go after them.  Roy stopped her before Johnny reached her.

"I wanna go with her," Francie insisted, pulling away from Roy's grip on her arm.

"I'm sorry, you can't," Roy explained, but Johnny had come up and slipped a hand through her arm.

"I'll drive you," he offered.  "We'll be right behind them."

Francie's eyes moved between both men, looking for a moment like she wanted to argue. But at last her shoulders slumped and she nodded her head.

"Is she gonna be okay?" she asked hesitantly.

Roy exchanged a look with Johnny.  They both knew the odds were poor.

"They'll know better when they get her to Rampart," Roy hedged, falling back on the standard answer to a question that nobody could really answer.  "Is she a friend of yours?"

Francie sniffed and rubbed at her nose.  "My mom," she answered in a small voice.

Roy didn't know what to say after that.  He wasn't proud of the way he'd treated this girl.  And it was obvious that, in spite of what he'd tried to convince Johnny to do, his friend had continued to see her without letting Roy know.  And she was standing here devastated, feeling close enough to Johnny to turn to him for help and comfort.

He covered his awkwardness by gathering up the equipment.  By the time he was down at the squad putting things away, Johnny and Francie came out, heading for the Rover.

"We'll see ya at Rampart," Johnny called as they passed.

Roy waved a hand.  "Yeah.  See ya."  He shut and locked the compartments, then climbed behind the wheel.

All during the drive to Rampart, Roy tried to figure out what he was going to say to Johnny.  Part of him felt he owed his friend an apology.  But he still wasn't convinced that getting so involved with a girl as young as Francie was a good idea.  And then there was that part of him - that part that seemed so much in control lately - that looked at Johnny moving on with his life; gaining ground physically, emotionally, and apparently socially, and only felt resentment.

It was a resentment that had nothing to do with Francie or her age or how she wore her hair.  It was a deep rooted fear that Johnny had made Roy the keeper of his secrets and now didn't have to worry about them anymore.  The younger man could go back to being carefree, live in the moment Johnny, while Roy lived in fear - fear of the night and what sleep would bring.

It didn't make sense, and he didn't understand it.  But it was tearing him up, and he realized he couldn't keep living this way.  He had to do something.  He had to talk to Johnny.  They needed to clear the air.

But when he got to Rampart, he'd barely walked into the E.R. when Brad rushed up waving the handie-talkie.  They had another run.

As they pulled out of Rampart's parking lot, Roy turned to his partner.  "How's she doing?"

Brad shook his head. "Not very good.  She arrested on the way in.  We got her back, but Brackett's got his hands full."

Roy nodded at the news.  It wasn't unexpected.  He felt bad for Francie.  He didn't know their family dynamics, but losing your mother would be hard, no matter what the circumstances.  Maybe it was good Johnny was with her - at least for right now.  He'd lost his mother at a young age, so he would be able to relate to her pain.

And then Roy shook his head at pendulum nature of his feelings, and concentrated on driving the squad.

* * *

Johnny sat on the end of Dr. Brackett's couch, his elbow propped on the arm, his head resting in his hand.  Francie lay curled up with her head in his lap.  Her eyes were closed, but he didn't think she was asleep.  It was quiet in here away from the chaos of the E.R.  Johnny absently stroked Francie's dark hair, grateful that Brackett had offered his office for them to wait in rather than the hard plastic chairs.

He'd come in about an hour ago and told them it was still touch and go - that he couldn't tell them anything for certain.  He'd advised Francie to stick around, which let Johnny know Brackett wasn't holding out much hope.  Francie had tried to persuade Johnny to go home, had assured him she would be all right, but there was no way he was going to let her wait this out by herself.  So he'd called Joanne to tell her why he was late and not to expect him very soon.

Francie had talked a little at first, telling him a few things about her mother - memories from when she was a little girl.  But she'd grown quiet after a while and finally let him coax her into laying down and trying to get some rest.

It was a strange thing to be the one giving comfort after such a long time of being the one who was needy.  But it was a good feeling.  It made him feel strong again after feeling weak and defeated for so long.  As he gazed at Francie, felt her hair under his fingers, saw the tear tracks on her cheeks, he felt a surge of protectiveness toward her that nearly left him breathless.  Reggie's voice was faint in his head, trying to convince him that he shouldn't be feeling this way - that he had no right to touch a girl and have it feel right.  But Johnny was worried enough about Francie that he found it surprisingly easy to push Reggie to the background.  He couldn't silence him completely, but he managed to ignore him.

He wished he could have done more to help her mother.  There really hadn't been anything for him to do, but he'd learned one thing.  He'd discovered that there was still a paramedic left inside of him.  He hadn't been sure before tonight, but now whatever lingering uncertainties he had about being able to do the job were gone.  For the first time since he'd come home he would be able to look forward to going back to work.

There was a soft knock on the door and it opened slowly.  Johnny lifted his head and saw Roy standing in the doorway.  He looked down at Francie, but she hadn't moved, so maybe she really was asleep.  He nodded to Roy, then gently lifted Francie's head so he could get out from under her.  He laid her back down, but she stirred, sitting part way up.

"Jay?  Is it Mom?"

Johnny squatted down beside her.  "Shhh... no.  I'm just gonna talk to Roy for a minute.  Go back to sleep."

She nodded and scooted up so she could pillow her head against the arm of the couch.  She closed her eyes again, and Johnny brushed her hair back from her face before he stood up and moved to the door.

"How's she doing?" Roy asked as Johnny stepped outside the office.  He was in turnouts and his face was sooty.  That, and the acrid smell of smoke, told Johnny why he hadn't seen Roy since they'd come to the hospital.

"Francie or Maggie?'

"Both."

Johnny shook his head.  "Maggie's not so good.  Brackett was in here a while ago.  He'd tried to be as optimistic as he could, but..."  He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.  "I think Francie knows.  She's pretty strong.  She's had to be, I guess."

Roy nodded.  They'd both seen the tragedy alcohol caused in people's lives.

"I'm sorry it took so long to get back here."

Johnny waved his apology aside.  "I figured you got called out.  Was it bad?"

"Bad enough," Roy answered hoarsely.  "A house fire.  We lost one... a ten year old boy."

Johnny could hear Roy's pain.  Every firefighter took personally any life lost, and he knew Roy would spend the next few days kicking himself, wondering what else they might have done.

"You did what you could, man."

"Yeah... I guess."

They stood in silence for a moment, and by the way Roy was fidgeting with the handie-talkie and shifting his feet, Johnny could tell his friend wanted to say something to him.  He waited patiently while the older paramedic gathered his thoughts together.

"Johnny... I..."  Roy cleared his throat, whether from the smoke he'd eaten or from self-consciousness, Johnny couldn't tell.  "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

Johnny's eyebrows lifted in surprise.  "Sorry?  For what?"

Roy finally met Johnny's eyes.  "For trying to run your life."  He gestured to Brackett's office.  "Look... it's not my place to tell you what to do.  It's your business."

Johnny nodded.  "Thanks, Roy.  I appreciate what you're saying."  He glanced over his shoulder at the closed office door.  "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you."

Roy smiled.  "Yes you were."

"Okay, I guess I was," Johnny chuckled.  "I just didn't want to make you mad."

Roy's smile turned rueful.  "I'm sorry that you even had to worry about that.  You don't have to sneak around anymore, okay?"

"Okay."  Johnny was glad they'd gotten this out in the open, but he still wasn't sure that Roy's opinion of Francie or of Johnny dating her had changed.  He'd apologized about butting in, not about any of the rest of it.

"Well, I gotta get back to the station," Roy told him apologetically.  "I'd wait with you, but Brad's practically asleep in the squad."

"Don't worry about it, man.  There's nothin' you can do here," Johnny told him. "Go get some sleep.  You guys must be beat."

Roy nodded and started to turn, but Johnny knew he had to tell Roy one thing before he came home in the morning.

"Hey, Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"Um... I thought you should know... when I talked to Joanne this evening, she said... that is, she invited..."  Johnny took a deep breath and just came out with it.  "She invited Francie to stay with us... at your house, I mean.  For a day or two if... uh... until things are settled."

"Stay with us?" Roy repeated dumbly, and Johnny hoped it was from fatigue rather than irritation.

"Yeah... I don't think she should have to go home to that apartment alone.  Especially if... if things don't go well."

Roy stared at him for a moment and his expression was unreadable, but he finally nodded.  "Sure.  Why not?"  He turned to go.

Johnny couldn't leave it at that.  He could tell his friend wasn't thrilled with the idea of having Francie as a house guest, and he didn't want things at home to be awkward - for Roy or Francie.

"Roy?"

Roy turned back around and the only thing Johnny could see there was exhaustion.  He gave Johnny a tired smile.

"Don't worry.  I'll be nice."  And this time he did walk down the hall to the ambulance bay.

Johnny watched him go for minute.  One way or another the next few days were going to be interesting.  Then he reached his hand to open the office door, but Brackett's voice stopped him.

"Johnny?"

The paramedic looked up and saw the truth in the doctor's eyes.  "Is she gone?" he asked.

Dr. Brackett shook his head, but when he spoke his voice was weary.  "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time.  She's in a deep coma... and she's failing."  He shoved his hands in his lab coat pockets.  "I thought Francie might want to spend some time with her."

Johnny heaved a heavy sigh.  "I'll go tell her."

He felt Brackett's hand rest on his shoulder briefly before he opened the door and entered the office.

Chapter Seventeen

Long Beach, California

Keith sat watching the sun dip down lower toward the ocean.  The evening breeze had cooled the air, but the sun baked sand still held the heat, and it warmed Keith's feet.  But he barely noticed.

He didn't know why he was so discontent.  Nothing he liked to do held any appeal for him anymore.  He'd thought, after the encounter with Gage, that life would go back to normal for him.  He'd given that fag something to think about - something to worry about.  He'd even warned him off that girl he'd picked up at the mall.

For a few days Keith had felt as high as a kite.  He'd actually made physical contact with Gage, and he was certain the man had gotten the message.  The paramedic had stayed home.  He worked on his stupid looking car.  He didn't see the girl.  The skinny ass pervert understood that his life would never be what it was before.  He didn't have the right to live a normal life.

But after a while he'd started going out again.  He resumed his running, he went back to the mall.  He went after that girl.

And Keith tried to tell himself it didn't matter.  He'd made his point.  He'd made a stand for Cal.  He'd gone about his business for the next few weeks, trying to throw himself into work.  He wasn't late anymore.  He put in for overtime.  He worked his ass off.

And nothing changed.  He didn't feel better.  All he felt was empty.

"You're a hard man to find, amigo."

Keith looked up, surprised to see Paulo standing beside him.

"What are you doing here?"

Paulo shrugged and sat down on the sand next to Keith.  He reached into his shirt pocked and pulled out a cigar with a pink band.  He held it out for Keith.

"When my best friend misses the party for my new baby girl, I know something is wrong."

Keith's face twisted with regret, and he let his head fall into his hands.

"Goddamn... I'm sorry, Paulo.  I totally forgot."

Paulo didn't say anything, but he held the cigar closer.  Keith stared at it for moment, then took it.  Paulo smiled and produced one for himself.  He then reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a lighter.  He lit his own cigar, then handed the lighter to Keith.

Keith took the lighter.  After a few tries, he managed to get his cigar lit as well.  They smoked in silence for a time, but Keith didn't relax.  He knew Paulo hadn't left the party and all his five dozen relatives to come find him just to watch the sunset.

"I am missing you, amigo," Paulo finally said.

"What are you talking about?"  Keith laughed, but it was a nervous sound.  "You see me every shift."

Paulo took a long pull on his cigar.  His eyes were fixed on the sea, but his words were for Keith.  "I see you... but you're not there.  You are far away."

Keith scowled darkly and moved his foot in the sand.  "You sound like the department shrink."

Paulo smiled.  "Maybe that's a good thing."  He turned and finally met Keith's eyes.  "Maybe a better thing is if you go talk to him yourself."

"Shit..."  Keith stood up and stalked away a few feet.  He didn't want to hear this.

"Cal wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, my friend.  He..."

Keith whirled in fury at hearing his friend's name.  "Shut the fuck up.  You don't know a damn thing about what Cal would want.  He's dead and you didn't do shit about it.  He's dead and I'm the only one who gives a rat's ass.  I'm the only one..."

He stopped.  Paulo had gotten to his feet, his fists clenched, his eyes flashing anger.  It didn't matter that the engineer was a head shorter than Keith.  The man was built like a bulldog and Keith had no illusions about who would win if it came to a fight.  It registered only as a second thought that he and his best friend were about to come to blows.

But Paulo abruptly relaxed his fists.  He stared at Keith for a long time.  Then he tossed his cigar to the sand and walked away without saying another word.

Keith watched him go, his heart aching that he'd just lost another friend because of John Gage.  And as Paulo's stocky figure disappeared over the sand, that ache began to smolder.

* * *

It was a small funeral.  Maggie Miller had few friends and no family except for Francie.  Aside from some of the waitresses from the Denny's she worked at and old Mrs. Gibbons from the apartment next door, the people at the grave side had been Johnny's friends.

Roy and Joanne were there, though they'd wisely chosen to leave the kids with the Crawfords. Captain Stanley had come, along with the other guys Johnny used to work with.  For all the things Francie was grateful for since meeting the paramedic, she didn't think anything would ever match her gratitude for these men who had agreed to be pall bearers.  They even came in their dress uniforms, the sight of which brought a lump to Francie's throat.

And she would never forget the look on Johnny's face when Roy produced Johnny's uniform for him to wear. When  Johnny saw the plastic dry cleaner's bag and what was inside, Francie thought for sure he was going to cry.  He didn't.  But if it took him a little longer to get dressed than it should have, nobody said anything.  And when he came back downstairs there was a light of pride in his eyes that made it even harder to keep the tears at bay.

The service was short.  The preacher, a very nice man from the church Joanne took the kids to, hadn't known Francie's mother, but he managed to give a nice talk - hopeful words about love and forgiveness in the next life.  Francie hoped they were true.  Perhaps then her mother could find the peace she so desperately lacked in this life.

Francie didn't cry.  Not during the service.  And not afterward, when everyone came back to Roy's house for lunch.  There didn't seem much point in mourning a life who had been lost a long time ago.  Instead, she helped Joanne with the food, in spite of the woman's protests that she didn't need to, and she should go sit down somewhere and catch her breath and let them wait on her.

But she didn't want to sit and have people constantly asking her if she was okay.  She wanted to do something.  And making sure everyone else had enough to eat and drink was a way to say thank you to these people who had taken her in like she was one of their own.

But later, in the loneliness of the night, when the others had gone home and everyone here was asleep, that was when the tears came.  Silent and unwanted, they streamed down her cheeks to soak into the pillow she was using, and she was helpless to stop them.

When she felt the hand on her shoulder, she wasn't surprised.  She looked up and saw Johnny kneeling beside her.  Somehow she knew he would come.

"Hey, there," he whispered softly.  "I couldn't sleep and thought maybe you could use some company."  His hand brushed her cheek and she knew he would feel the dampness there.  "I'm so sorry, baby."

They moved together.  Francie sat up to make room as Johnny sat beside her.  His arm went around her shoulders as she leaned into his chest.  And she cried.  Cried for the childhood she never had, for things that were lost, for the mother Maggie could have been if life had been less cruel.

Exhausted from the emotional drain of the day, her sobs gradually subsided.  As her body relaxed from the release of emotion, she grew aware of other things - Johnny's heart beating under her ear, the feel of his t-shirt against her cheek, the lingering scent of the soap he'd used when he'd showered, his hand running slowly up and down her back in a comforting gesture, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head.

A myriad of feelings swirled inside of her.  Some she understood and some she didn't.  But above anything else, she felt safe.  Wrapped in Johnny's arms the pain was distant.  She closed her eyes, breathing out in a cross between a hiccup and a sigh.  She knew that tomorrow she would have to go home and face the realities of being on her own.  But for now that seemed far in the future.

"Faa-cie... Faa-cie go ni-ni."

Francie opened her eyes and saw Missy's smiling face, her hair tousled from bed.  When the toddler saw Francie was awake, she took it as an invitation and pulled herself up onto the couch.  Francie smiled and sat up, letting the little girl nestle into her lap.

It was then she noticed Johnny was gone.  There was no sign he'd even been there, and Francie almost thought she'd dreamed last night.  But Joanne came into the living room a moment later and dispelled that notion.

"Oh, Francie, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean for her to wake you up.  Johnny said you didn't sleep very well."

"You saw Johnny this morning?" Francie asked, a little afraid Joanne had come in and seen them together and disapproved.  But there was no judgement in her voice.

"He was going out running."  Joanne sat down on the couch beside Francie, and Missy crawled over to sit between them.  "He usually leaves about the time Roy and I get up."  She glanced at her watch.  "He should be back in a little while."

"Is Roy still here?" Francie asked.  She was still a little hesitant about how the man felt about her being here.

"He just left for work."  Joanne reached over and patted Francie's knee.  "Don't let Roy bother you," she said kindly.  "He's been under a lot of stress.  He's not really as grumpy as he seems sometimes."

Francie smiled.  She liked Joanne a lot.  The woman had been nothing but kind since Francie had been here.  She would take her word that Roy's behavior wasn't normal.  Besides, he'd been nice to her at the funeral yesterday, participating with the other men in the proceedings.  That was something he didn't have to do.

"Are you hungry?" Joanne asked.  "The kids'll be down soon, and when Johnny comes back, he'll be ready to eat."

"Sure," Francie said, "but let me get dressed and I can help.  I'm not a great cook, but I can make toast with the best of 'em."

"You sound like Johnny," Joanne laughed.  She picked Missy up.  "Come with Ma... Auntie Jo, little girl.  Let Francie get dressed."

"Mama," Missy laughed and gave Joanne a wet kiss on the cheek.

Joanne smiled at the little girl's tenacity.  But Francie hadn't missed the painful frustration as the woman once more corrected Missy.  In the couple of days she'd been here, Francie couldn't help but notice how hard everyone was working on it and how futile it seemed.

"Joanne... it's none of my business, I guess... but why do you guys keep pushing the aunt and uncle thing?"

Joanne sighed and ran her fingers through the toddler's dark hair.  "The psychologist told us it would help her with the separation."  She smiled weakly.  "I guess she forgot to tell Missy."

Francie watched the baby for a moment as she played with the stuffed bunny Joanne had given her.  "Maybe it's too hard for her," she finally ventured.

Joanne nodded agreement.  "At least while she's still here.  Maybe once she and Johnny have their own place..."

"No... I mean aunt and uncle... that's too hard.  She doesn't know those words.  What if you try something else... something a little more familiar."

Joanne gave her a curious look.  "Like what?"

Francie thought for a moment.  "When I was little... really little... there was this lady who lived by us.  She was kind of a grandma to all the kids in the neighborhood.  She always had cookies and stuff for us after school.  She was a great lady.  We called her Mama Kate."  She reached over and tickled Missy's chin, getting a giggle in return.  "What if you do that?  She can call you Mama Jo.... Papa Roy.  She's mostly there now and it won't seem so foreign to her."

Joanne considered that for a long while, then a smile began to play at her mouth.  "But the doctor..." she hedged.  "I don't know if that's different enough for what the doctor wanted."

"Screw the doctor," Francie snorted with a laugh, then realized what she'd just blurted out.  She blushed and covered her mouth apologetically.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said that."

But Joanne started laughing.  She leaned over and put her arm around Francie's shoulders and hugged her warmly.  "Don't apologize.  I agree completely.  Screw the doctor."

Francie noticed with amusement that Joanne's voice had lowered a notch when she said it, but then she had children she was used to watching her language around.

After a moment, when their laughter had died down, Joanne nodded resolutely.  "I like it.  And I think you're right.  It'll be easier for her... and for us."  She sat for a moment longer, then she glanced at the clock and stood up.  "I better get a move on or we'll have a hungry horde on our hands."  She headed to the kitchen.

It didn't take Francie long to straighten up the couch where she'd slept.  She folded the blankets and lay them across the back.  Then she grabbed her clothes and headed to the guest bathroom.  She'd showered before she went to bed last night, so she didn't worry about that.

In a short time Francie was standing by the stove scrambling eggs.  She'd made them before, of course.  It was an easy dinner when you only cooked for yourself.  But under Joanne's direction she learned how much better they would taste if you added a little milk and tossed in some grated cheese.

As the two women worked together in the kitchen, she couldn't help but wonder if this is what it might have been like with her mother.  If only Maggie hadn't looked for solace in a bottle.  But Francie didn't let that thought drag her down.  She couldn't change the past.

As Joanne had predicted, Johnny came in the front door about the same time the Chris and Jenny came downstairs.  It was chaos for a while as Johnny ran up to take a quick shower, and the kids were sent to get dressed.  But before long they were all seated around the table.

Francie was going to miss these homey meals.  She actually felt like she was part of a family.  But she knew she had to go home.  It was crowded here already with Johnny staying.  Besides, she had to get back to work, and there were things she had to do at the apartment.  She was also afraid that the longer she stayed here, the harder it would be to leave.

* * *

Joanne came out onto the patio with a newly made pitcher of lemonade.  The day had turned into a scorcher.  They'd eaten lunch outside, and now the kids were cooling off in Missy's little pool.  Not long after breakfast, Johnny had pushed Francie's car into the garage and was deeply involved in trying to find what was wrong with it.  Joanne knew Johnny was doing this mostly because he wanted to help out, but she also harbored an amused suspicion that he'd insisted on doing it as a way to get Francie to stay a little longer.

He might have gotten in over his head.  The few times Joanne had gone out there to give him a cold drink or a sandwich, all she'd been able to get out of him was some vague mutterings, and probably a swear word or two if she listened close enough.  She just put the drink down on the garage shelf and smiled.  She'd seen Roy working on cars enough to know it was best to leave Johnny alone.

She set the pitcher down on the picnic table and pulled up a chair to sit down next to Francie.

"I sure hope it cools off this evening," she said as she fanned her self with her hand.  "Roy keeps talking about getting air conditioning, but I just can't justify the expense.  Does your apartment have it?"

Francie snorted.  "Gosh, no.  We're lucky we have screens on the windows."  She laughed when she said it, but Joanne could see there was still embarrassment there.

"You know... you're more than welcome to stay here as long as you need to."

Francie shook her head.  "I appreciate the offer... but I need to get back.  And you guys are bulging at the seams already."

Joanne chuckled.  "The more the merrier."  She watched the kids playing happily in the water.  "You'll be missed.  Jenny told me you're the coolest girl Uncle Johnny ever brought home.  And that's a direct quote."

Francie laughed.  "That's only because I'm not that much older than she is."  Her face grew thoughtful, and then she turned to Joanne.  Her next question was tentative, as if she wasn't sure she had the right to ask.  "Did he... did he have a lot of girl friends?  I mean... I know about Kathy.  He told me about her.  But... before that?"

Joanne smiled, recognizing the girl's need to be reassured.  She seemed so mature and sure of herself so much of the time, Joanne sometimes forgot how young she really was.

"Let me tell you a little about John Gage.  When I first met Johnny he seemed so young.  He was twenty five, but he was pretty immature... at least to my way of thinking.  We didn't always hit it off.  He was so cock sure all the time... like he knew everything.  Over time I began to see that some of that was a bluff, an image.  Underneath all that bluster was a very caring young man.  He grew to be a part of our family.  I can't even tell you when it happened.  It just did."

Joanne paused for a moment, remembering those times when Roy and Johnny were new partners.  When she looked at Francie, her smiled deepened.

"But part of that image he put on for everybody was a nurse chasing ladies man.  He flirted with any girl under thirty who worked at Rampart."  Joanne chuckled as she remembered some of the stories Roy used to come home and tell her.  "I used to worry that he'd be a bad influence on Roy."  She shook her head at her own foolish insecurity.  "But I didn't need to.  What I gradually realized was that very few of the girls he chased after ever gave him the time of day.  Oh, there were some.  He dated like any normal guy.  But he was far from the swinging bachelor he wanted everyone to think he was."

"And then there was Kathy," Francie prompted, and Joanne realized that's who the girl really wanted to know about.

"Yes.  Remember, when Johnny met Kathy he was a little older."

"And wiser," Francie finished with a soft smile.

Joanne's eyes found Missy, dumping a pail of water over Chris's head, and her thoughts grew wistful.  "Sadly... no.  Oh, don't get me wrong.  He liked her a lot.  He probably even loved her.  But Kathy... let me just say Kathy didn't want the same thing Johnny did and leave it at that.  Anything else he'll have to be the one to tell you."

They sat in silence for a time, then Francie spoke up again.  Her voice was quiet, as if she afraid to ask her next question.

"The stuff in the papers... about when Johnny was kidnapped.  I know newspapers don't always tell the whole thing.  And people sometimes don't let the truth get in the way of a good story..."

Joanne sighed.  It was only normal that Francie would be curious about what had happened to Johnny, especially if she had somebody filling her head with lurid tales.  Joanne supposed she ought to let the girl know the truth - at least as much of it as Joanne knew.

"You probably know that Johnny was held prisoner for a year and a half by a maniac."  She shook her head.  "That word doesn't even come close to describing him.  What do you call a man who tortures his victims in ways that make me sick to even think about and then murders them?"

Even after all this time, thinking about those events could make Joanne shudder.

"I don't know everything that happened to him.  Roy knows more than he's told me, and I think I want it to stay that way.  All I know is that when Johnny came home he was broken... on the inside.  His physical hurts healed pretty quickly, but it took time for the rest.  He's still not all better.  But he's a long way from the poor soul who walked into my house four months ago."

Joanne shook herself out of her reverie.  Sometimes that day in April seemed like a lifetime ago.  And other times it seemed like yesterday.  But she would never forget the outrage and despair she felt when she saw Johnny and took him into her arms to welcome him home.

"That must have been awful," Francie commented in a voice that was full of emotion.  "For your whole family."

"It was," Joanne agreed.  "But it was the hardest on Roy.  He's the one Johnny leaned on the most.  And I'm pretty sure Johnny told him more about what happened than Roy was comfortable with.  I think that's part of Roy's trouble right now.  He's still trying to deal with it all, and he won't betray Johnny's confidences and talk to anybody about it."

Joanne took a deep breath, wanting to switch things to a more positive note.  "Having Missy here helped a lot.  She gave Johnny a reason to want to get better.  Because, believe me, it was hard.  It would have been very easy for him to just curl up into his memories and give up."

She paused a moment and her smiled widened.  "And you've helped too."

Francie glance up, startled.  "I haven't..."

"Yes, you have," Joanne contradicted.  "The last few weeks I've seen a lightness in Johnny's whole manner, a shining in his eyes that I was afraid I'd never see again."

Francie blushed and looked away, self-conscious and probably a little embarrassed.  But Joanne was glad she'd said what she did.  No matter what happened between these two, no matter what anybody said or thought about their age difference, Joanne was happy they'd met.  She wanted Francie to know that.

Missy chose that moment to come running over, her little pail in her hands.  She pushed it into Joanne's lap.

"B'oke," she stated with all the confidence in the world that her mother could fix it.

Joanne could see the handle had come off the knob on one end.  It didn't take long to put it back to rights.  When she gave Missy the pail, the toddler raced back to the water, squealing the whole way.

"She's going to miss having a back yard."

Joanne glanced over at Francie, and it registered what the girl meant.  "Maybe Johnny can find an apartment with a playground.  Some of them have them."

Francie looked dubious.  "Some, yeah.  But not many.  And the ones that do are either way too expensive or they don't keep them up."  She caught Joanne's gaze and smiled ruefully.  "I grew up in apartments.  Even when my dad was alive.  Believe me, they're not very fun."

Joanne thought that over.  It wasn't something that had occurred to her.  Johnny would be strapped for money when he first went back to work.  Of course he wouldn't be able to afford an expensive apartment.

"Well, he can always bring Missy over here to play.  And I'll be babysitting when Johnny's on duty.  So that's something."

Francie nodded. "Yeah.  That'll be good."  She sighed resignedly.  "It's too bad he can't buy that house."

"What house?"

"Oh... the other day... before my mom... the night that we found my mom.  We'd been looking at apartments.  And there was this house for sale.  It was the greatest little house... with a big back yard.  It would have been perfect for Johnny and Missy."

"I remember now," Joanne said.  "You guys told me a little bit about it."

Francie shrugged her shoulders.  "Johnny said there was no way he could afford it."

"No... I suppose not."

Joanne took a drink of her lemonade.  While they'd talked the ice had melted, and it was a little watery.  But at least it was cold.  Her mind had started working furiously.  She suddenly sat up straight.  She set her glass down and reached over to lay her hand over Francie's.

"What do you say we take the kids for a drive?"

Chapter Eighteen

August 1978

"Happy Birthday, Dear Johnny, Happy Birthday to you!"

The slightly off key tune ended, and it was left to Johnny to blow out the candles on his cakes.  He had two this year.  Jennifer had insisted, since he'd missed his birthday last year.  He sat at the end of the picnic table on Roy's deck and regarded the abundance of glowing candles with dubious eyes.

"C'mon, Uncle Johnny," Jenny urged excitedly.  "Blow ‛em out."

"Yeah, Gage, the wax is gonna melt all over the frosting."  Chet looked as eager as any of the kids.

"This is no fair, you guys," Johnny protested good-naturedly.  "I get help on this one."  He ducked his head to where Missy sat in his lap, her dark eyes wide, taking in all the festivities.  "You wanna help Daddy blow out his candles?"

He lifted her up higher so she was closer to the cakes.

"Ready?"  He took a deep breath and blew with all his might.  Missy tried her best to copy him, but only managed to make a few flickers.  Johnny had to stand up to get the farthest ones, but at last they were all out, and he sat back down, a bit winded, but grinning.

A round of applause and loud cheering greeted his fete.  Missy clapped her hands and giggled at all the excitement.  Johnny planted a kiss on the top of her head.  "Thanks, Pipsqueak.  I couldn't have done it without you."

He took a moment to note all the people who were here to celebrate with him today.  The guys and their families, as well as several other paramedics Johnny knew.  Dwyer and Carlson from C shift were here.  Stoney had come too.  Some of the staff from Rampart - Dr. Brackett and Dixie were here, along with Joe Early and Mike Morton.  Even Dr. Evans had dropped by earlier for a little while.

And Francie was here.  Johnny caught her eye and flashed her a smile.  She'd moved back to her apartment a few days after her mother's funeral, and Johnny had harbored an irrational fear that he wouldn't see her after that.  But he soon found his worry needless.

Their dates had stayed casual.  Johnny was still hesitant about taking the relationship to the next level.  He'd talked about it with Dr. Evans quite a bit, and the psychologist had told him not to be discouraged, that it would take time for him to regain his confidence regarding women.  But then he fretted that Francie would grow impatient with him and move on, since so far he hadn't even worked up the courage to kiss her goodnight.  He didn't know why she was sticking it out with him, but he was glad.  And having her here at his birthday party was just icing on the cake.

"Cake, Da-ee, cake," Missy demanded enthusiastically, breaking into his musings and reminding him of why they were here.

"Yeah, Daddy," Roy prompted from where he stood behind Johnny.  "Cut the cake already."

"Okay, okay," Johnny laughed.  He glanced around.  "I need a knife.  Jo?  You have a knife?"

"Here, Johnny, let me do that."  She pointed her chin at Melissa.  "Looks like you have your hands full."

He turned to the child in his lap just in time to see her try to cram a handful of chocolate cake into in her mouth.  She was definitely getting more of it on her than inside of her.  He hadn't even noticed her grabbing it.

"He-ey," he scolded gently, scooting away from the table and out of reach of the cake.  "Where're your manners, little girl?" he laughed.

"She takes after you," Chet observed as he held out his plate for Joanne.

"Oh, ha, ha, Kelly, very funny."  Johnny stood up, holding Missy at arms length so she wouldn't touch anything, and whisked her into the house, intent on washing her up.

He got into the kitchen and held the toddler up to the sink, letting the water run over her hands, then filled his own hand with water and splashed it over her face, rubbing a little to get the frosting off.  Missy laughed delightedly.  He smiled, inwardly content.  There was no way a few months ago that he would have thought he'd ever be this happy again.

"Uncle Johnny," Jennifer called loudly from outside, breaking into his reflections.  "Chet says he's gonna eat all the cake if you don't come out here."

Johnny's smile turned into a grin as he dried Missy's hands and face and let her run outside to join the other kids.  He hung the towel up and headed back to the party.  There was no way he was going to let Kelly have all his birthday cake.

When he finally had a plate filled with a huge piece of cake topped with ice cream, Johnny plopped down in a chair to enjoy it.  Francie was helping Joanne, so he knew he would have to wait to have any time with her.  Besides, every few minutes somebody came up and wished him happy birthday, or chatted for a few minutes.  Even if Francie was sitting next to him, they wouldn't have had any time alone.

"Great party, John."

Johnny glanced up to see Cap pull up a chair next to him.  Since he had just shoveled in a huge bite of cake, he had to wait a minute to answer.  When he did, it was a little self-consciously.

"Roy and Joanne planned it all.  I just showed up."

Hank smiled kindly.  Johnny was aware that Dr. Evans had discussed a few things with Captain Stanley on the chance that Johnny might get to work out of 51 again.  He flushed a little, wondering what "issues" Cap might think he was dealing with.  Johnny himself knew one of them was accepting that people would want to do nice things for him.

"Well, you're the one with the birthday," Hank said lightly.  "There wouldn't be a party without you."

Johnny shrugged uncomfortably, wanting to redirect the conversation.  He took another  bite of cake.  Joanne had outdone herself.  Hank worked on his serving as well.

"I got a call from the Chief," the older man said after they'd both finished

Johnny's expression grew guarded.  "Yeah?"

Hank nodded, then smiled widely.  "You've been assigned to 51's A Shift."

Johnny stared at his captain for a long moment, knowing his mouth was hanging open.  He finally closed it, letting an excited smile creep onto his face.

"No kiddin', Cap?"

Hank's own smile grew wider.  "No kidding.  I've even got a start date for you.  October 14^th.  That's when Brad can move over to 36's."

Johnny knew Brad Martin had been gracious enough to agree to transfer, as long as he didn't have to drive too much farther to work   A lot of what Johnny had been sweating over was whether or not that would come to pass.  The opening at 36 was fortuitous, and the timing couldn't have been better.  It fit right into Johnny's own back to work time frame.  He wondered what he could do to thank Brad.  He'd have to ask Roy if he had any suggestions.

"So... you had any luck finding a place?"

Johnny glanced over at Cap, his excitement fading a little at the new topic.  He shook his head.  "Not yet.  I'm kinda stuck."  He ran a hand through his mop of dark hair.  "Most of what's out there I can't afford... unless they're in messed up neighborhoods.  If it was just me I wouldn't care.  But I've got Missy to think about."

Hank's brows drew together.  "Hasn't your disability money started coming in?"

Johnny knew that Cap had worked hard to facilitate some kind of a disability payments.  The paramedic had been on the job, after all, when he was kidnapped and it seemed only fair that the Department make some kind of reparations.  It hadn't been easy.  Cap had complained he was beating his head against the brick wall of bureaucracy, talking to first one department head and then another, with everyone telling him since they were dealing with a criminal act, and because Johnny's injuries actually took place away from the scene of the fire, Workmen's Comp wouldn't apply.

Even the Union rep hadn't been very helpful.  No one really knew where this kind of incident fell or who was ultimately responsible.  It wasn't until Hank pointed out how bad the publicity would be for the County and the Fire Department if they didn't take care of one of their own, that he got any action.  While it wasn't quite the amount Hank felt Johnny was entitled to, at least it was something.

"Yeah, I've got that, but, Cap, it's more than just finding the right place. I gotta buy furniture, for me and for Missy."  Johnny shook his head dejectedly.  "Sometimes I think it would be better if I just stayed here, but I know I can't do that.  I can't sponge off Roy for the rest of my life.  Plus, my doctor's on my case to get out on my own.  And the social worker and the child psychologist both keep tellin' me that the longer we put off the separation, the harder it will be for Missy, so..."  Johnny trailed off, blowing out a long breath, a little overwhelmed at how much he'd vented to Cap.

"So... you haven't found any place you like?" Hank inquired.

Johnny shook his head, wondering at the tone in Cap's voice.  There was sympathy there, but there was something else.  Something suppressed.  Johnny wasn't sure, but he felt like he was being left out of a joke.

"Not really," he said slowly.  "There was this one place... it was a house though, not an apartment.  It's not real big, but it had this great yard..."  He trailed off, wondering again at the look on Cap's face.

Hank suddenly stood up, breaking off the conversation abruptly.  He patted Johnny's shoulder encouragingly.  "You'll find a place, John.  Don't worry.  I... uh... think I'll go get another piece of cake."

As Johnny watched Hank head toward the table, his eyes squinted in confusion.  And it wasn't just Cap.  Johnny began to notice that same air of suppressed excitement in almost everyone.  When they talked to him, it was as if they could hardly keep from grinning.  If they weren't already celebrating, Johnny would have suspected them of planning a surprise party.

Even as the party wound down, Johnny kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.  After the cake, there were presents.  Nothing big.  Just small tokens of the day.  Johnny didn't mind.  He hadn't expected any showy gifts and probably would have been embarrassed if anyone had done anything extravagant.

But when people started to leave and still nothing had happened, the paramedic actually felt a little let down.  He'd been positive his friends were up to something.  But now he was left wondering if he'd been imagining it all.  And then that damn voice in his head started talking - trying to convince him he didn't have any right to expect anything.  Why would anybody bother trying to pull off a surprise for him?

He knew in his head that it wasn't really Reggie.  Dr. Evans had explained to him many times that it was his own residual guilt trying to punish him for things that weren't his fault.  It always made sense in the doctor's office, when Reggie wasn't talking.  But on his own, when the voice started in on him, it was hard not to listen.

To take his mind off it, he walked over to where Francie was sitting cross legged in the grass with Missy on her lap.  Jenny was sitting across from them giving Missy pieces of banana.  He sat down next to Francie, reaching over to tousle Missy's hair.

"Da-ee," the toddler called and climbed from Francie's lap to Johnny's.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder for a moment, before turning and settling down again, ready for more banana.

"Cool party, Uncle Johnny," Jenny commented as she resumed her job as Missy's food supplier.

"Yeah," Johnny agreed.  "It was really nice.  I hated to see it end."

For some reason Jenny giggled.  Johnny glanced at her just in time to see her exchange a look with Francie that the paramedic couldn't read.

Before he could ask about her behavior, Roy was suddenly standing beside him.

"Sounds like you guys are having a good time."

Johnny could have sworn Roy's comment was directed at Jenny, who tried very hard not to look guilty.  His suspicions flared, but Roy was suddenly talking to him.

"Hey, I gotta run a couple errands for Joanne.  You wanna go with me, Johnny?"

Johnny glanced up at his friend, then over at Francie.  This was the first time all day he'd had any time to spend with her.  He really didn't want to go anywhere.  Especially not to the grocery store, or wherever Joanne was sending Roy.

"Uh... well, I'd rather..."

"Come on," Roy urged.  "You're not gonna make me do this all by myself, are you?"

He didn't understand why Roy suddenly felt the need for company, and he was about to decline, when he felt Francie's elbow in his side.

"Go on," she encouraged.  "Roy might need your help carrying stuff."

"What stuff?" Johnny demanded with a laugh.  But he got to his feet.  It seemed everyone wanted him to go.  "Okay, okay.  I'll go."  He leaned down to catch Francie's ear.  "Promise you won't go home 'til I get back?"

Her smile was enough of an answer.

"Come on, Johnny," Roy called from the patio.  "Let's go."

"All right.  Hold your pants on.  Sheesh!"

He couldn't remember when he'd seen Roy this antsy.  And never about running errands.  He followed his friend through the house and out the front door.  He hoped this didn't take long.

* * *

Roy was relieved he'd managed to get Johnny to come with him.  The paramedic knew himself well enough to admit he wasn't very good at deception, and poor Jennifer's secret keeping endurance had reached its limit.  For a moment he'd been afraid his partner wasn't going to leave Francie's side.  It was a good thing the girl had prodded him.

Roy grudgingly admitted that she wasn't the flighty kid he'd first pegged her.  She'd faced her mother's death with a maturity that belied her years.  She'd certainly worked tirelessly with Joanne to pull off the surprise he was about to hit Johnny with.  And though he still wasn't comfortable with the age difference between them, Roy had shoved his attitude about Francie to the background.  Johnny seemed determined to date her, and there really wasn't much Roy could do about it.  He just hoped his friend used better judgement than he had with Kathy.

For now though, none of that mattered.  What mattered was waiting for them just a few miles away.

He didn't know how the women had done it.  Joanne hadn't checked with him first, and it was probably a good thing.  He wasn't the type to jump into something without thinking through every angle.  He'd probably still be thinking it over if it had been left up to him.

But it hadn't.  Joanne and Francie had got the ball rolling.  They talked to Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early, and then more of the hospital staff had gotten involved - Morton and Donaldson and a couple of the other E.R. docs who knew Johnny.  Then Dixie heard about it and was indignant that she hadn't been included.  Roy smiled inwardly at the fire in the head nurse's eyes as she marched into Brackett's office.  He was glad she hadn't directed her wrath towards him.  And since the one thing you could always count on at a hospital was gossip, before long the paramedics based at Rampart knew all about it and wanted in.

Hell, even Brice asked if he could help.

It just went to show that you could never tell about people.

The only thing Roy was concerned about at this point was how Johnny was going to react.  Certainly the enormity of what his friends had done was going to be overwhelming.  That was the reason Roy had decided to do this alone, without a big crowd of well-wishers.  It was going to be hard enough for Johnny to accept this without having an audience.

Everyone understood.  But it had been hard to keep a lid on the excitement during the party.  Roy had noticed Johnny starting to wonder at some of his friends' behavior.  He was glad when things drew to a close and everyone went home.

"Where exactly are we going?" Johnny asked, breaking into Roy's thoughts.  He was looking out the window, with a confused look on his face.

Roy knew the question would come.  He'd let Johnny believe they were going to the store, and it was obvious now they weren't, since they'd driven by Ralph's, Vons and Stater Bros.

"Um... well... Joanne asked me to pick something up at a friend's house."

"What?"

"Uh... " Roy wracked his brains frantically as he turned onto the street he was looking for.  This was the part of the plan he'd dreaded.  He was no good at this sort of thing.  "I dunno.  Some stuff."

Johnny looked at him like he'd lost his mind.  Roy managed to give his friend a lame smile as he shrugged.

"You know women... she didn't really say."

"How could she not say?" Johnny asked with a laugh.  "What is this?  A secret mission?"

You got it, Junior... right on the nose.

Roy gave his friend a nervous laugh.  "Yeah... right."

His palms began to sweat as he turned into the driveway.  By this time Johnny had recognized where they were and what house they'd just pulled up to.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"There's something here Joanne needs," Roy said as he opened the door and climbed out of the Porsche.  Johnny had no choice but to follow if he wanted to keep asking questions.  Roy did his best to hide a smile at Johnny's perplexed expression.  He just hoped his partner stayed flustered enough not to put the pieces together too soon.

"Something she needs?  Roy... nobody lives here.  This house is for sale."

"No, it's not," Roy contradicted.  He pointed to the "For Sale" sign on the front lawn.  A big, white "Sold" sticker was plastered across it.  "See?"

Johnny's eyes narrowed as he followed Roy up the walk.  But when Roy pulled out a set of keys and opened the front door, those eyes widened - first in surprise and then in shock.

"Roy... how did you... Roy... what are you doing?"

Roy walked into the house and turned, waiting for Johnny to follow.  The younger man stood on the porch, uncertain.  Then he shook his head and sighed in resignation.

"Okay, but when somebody calls the cops, I hope they don't drag our butts to jail."

"Nobody's gonna call the cops," Roy assured his friend, the grin finally winning and breaking out on his face.

It didn't matter though.  By now they'd entered the sparsely furnished living room where a huge banner was hung on the wall.

Welcome Home, Johnny and Missy!

Chris and Jenny had made it, amid a lot of whispers and giggles that Uncle Johnny was gonna be soooo surprised.  Roy didn't know how Johnny could have missed hearing them.

"What in the world..."

Johnny's eyes crinkled in puzzlement.  But Roy knew the moment things became clear.  Johnny's face went pale, and he actually took a step backward.

"Are you... is this for real?"  Johnny's voice was breathless, and Roy feared for an instant that his friend might faint.  But he managed to stay upright.

Roy nodded.  "It's definitely for real."

"I don't understand.  How did you even know about..."  He put it together, as Roy knew he would.  "What did she do?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"She told Joanne about the house.  And the two of them..."  Roy chuckled and put a hand on Johnny's shoulder.  "I've learned one thing... I'll never stand in the way of those two women once they've set their minds on something."

"But... it must have cost... You don't have that kind of money.  Francie doesn't either.  Where did they..."

"There's one thing I'm allowed to tell you, and that's only because you'd find out anyway when you go to the bank to sign the papers.  Brackett co-signed for the loan.  Other than that..."  Roy smiled warmly.  "Don't even try to figure it out, Johnny.  Just know that you have a lot of friends who care about you."

Johnny didn't say anything after that.  He walked through the house, staring at everything.  At the second hand furniture Joanne and Francie had spent hours searching thrift shops for.  At the kitchen that was stocked with food, donated cookware and a brand new refrigerator that Dixie insisted on buying.  The only room that was empty at the moment was the nursery.  The women had figured it would be easier on Missy if she had as much of her current bedroom as possible.  So that would come over in a day or two - whenever Johnny actually moved.

Not even the back yard had been left out.  As the two friends stepped outside, Roy saw the plastic turtle sandbox and playhouse in one corner.  Even Missy's little blow up pool was here, waiting for the little girl to use.

Johnny took it all in, standing there for a long time.  Then he walked back into the house, stopping in the kitchen.  He finally looked up at Roy.

"This is... this is incredible," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Roy held out the keys.  "It's all yours, Johnny... well, yours and the bank's," he chuckled.  "And the house payments are taken care of for the first year.  That's part of the deal.  Give you a chance to get on your feet."

It was just one more thing for Johnny to process, and Roy could see his partner was having a hard time working it through.  The younger man stared at the keys for a long time before he reached out a tentative hand to take them.  He gazed at them in his hand for nearly as long a time before he looked up again, meeting Roy's eyes.

"I... I don't even know what to say... who I should thank."

"Don't worry about thanking anybody.  You being home was thanks enough."

Johnny nodded wordlessly.  His eyes moved around the kitchen again and came to rest on the counter top where a large, wrapped package sat.

"What's this?" he asked, and moved over to pick it up.

Roy shrugged.  "I dunno.  Maybe a birthday present."

Johnny snorted.  "Like I haven't just gotten my life time quota of birthday presents."

The package was big and looked suspiciously like a framed picture.

"Maybe a housewarming present... something to hang on the wall?" Roy suggested with a shrug.

Johnny slowly tore open the paper.  From where Roy stood, he could only see the back of what looked like a very nice wooden frame.  But what Johnny saw caused a soft sound of wonder to escape his lips.

"What is it?" Roy asked.

Johnny lowered the picture and turned it so Roy could see.  It was a black and white photograph of Johnny and Missy.  It must have been taken at the Fourth of July barbeque.  Johnny was bent down with Missy in front of him.  He was helping her hold a sparkler, his hand over hers.  Whoever had taken the shot had managed to capture both Missy's childish wonder at the sparkling light, and Johnny's delight in sharing the moment with his daughter.

"Wow, Johnny, that's great.  Who took it?  Is there a card?"

A soft smile played around Johnny's mouth as his eyes darted over the brief message.  Roy could see tears running down the younger man's cheeks as he set the card back on the counter.  Without a word, Johnny picked up his picture and walked with it into the living room.

Roy didn't follow, letting his friend have a moment alone.  Curious, he shifted the card so he could see who it was from.

Here's your family photo, Jay.  No phoney studio shots for you guys.

Happy Birthday,

Francie

Roy stared at the words on that card for a long time.

Chapter Nineteen

September 1978

Today had been a long day.  The guys had helped Roy and Johnny bring Missy's things over, as well as Johnny's stuff that was still in boxes in Roy's garage.  Because this would mark the start of the long term separation for Missy and the DeSotos, Dr. Royce had come by with a lot of last minute advice for Johnny, the most important being that he resist the urge to turn to Joanne if he hit any snags.  It would only confuse the baby more if the woman she considered her mother kept dropping in, only to leave again.

Johnny understood that in his head, but his heart cringed at the hurt his little girl was going to go through as she inevitably missed her mommy.  And he knew it would be equally as painful for Joanne.  He wished there was another way.

Dr. Evans had dropped in later in the afternoon.  He offered Johnny his version of a pep talk, making sure the paramedic knew it was okay to feel insecure about being on his own for the first time.  Johnny had to chuckle.  Dr. Evans had been right on target about what was going through Johnny's head. He'd felt foolish, like he was a kid leaving home for the first time and was afraid he'd be homesick. Although, in his case, the nightmares would be worse than any kid's summer camp bad dreams.

Roy and Joanne had stayed after the others left.  Joanne kept trying to help, finding one box or another that she offered to unpack.  Johnny knew she was putting off having to say goodbye.  Once they walked out the door, they would in all likelihood, not see Missy again until Johnny went back to work.  That would be nearly two months.  He figured worse than leaving tonight though, would be waking up in the morning with no baby in the house.

Francie had gone home a while ago.  Johnny wasn't sure if she did it on purpose, to give the DeSotos more time alone with the baby, but he was grateful to her nonetheless.  But now it was growing late, and he was left watching Joanne flutter from one room to the next, while Roy stood by, looking as unsure how to handle it as Johnny.

They were saved in the end by the kids.  They'd been very good sports all day, keeping Missy entertained outside.  But now Chris wandered in looking bored.

"I'm hungry.  Is it time to go home?"

"Where are the girls?" Joanne asked as she came in from stacking towels in the hall closet.

"Outside," Chris answered with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder.  "They're hungry too."

Johnny watched Joanne's shoulders heave in a small sigh.  But she was able to give Johnny a smile.

"I guess it's all yours now.  I hope I didn't take over too much.  You can always rearrange things if  you want to."

"I know, Jo.  Thanks for all your help."  He crossed the room to give her a fierce hug.  "Thanks for everything," he whispered into her ear, hoping she understood what he couldn't put into words.

Joanne didn't say anything, but her arms tightened around him slightly.  When she let go he could see tears in her eyes.

At that moment Jenny came in leading Missy by the hand.  She saw her mother and, reading the situation, ran over to throw her arms around Roy and bury her face in his shirt.  Joanne picked up the baby and held her close.  Johnny could see Missy's little hands patting Joanne's back and found he couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat.

Roy soothed Jennifer for a moment, then disentangled himself from her and walked over to hug his wife with one arm.  The other hand he used to stroke Missy's dark hair.  After a time, he kissed the top of her head, then gestured for Johnny.

He came over and reached out his arms.  Joanne sniffed, then held Missy toward him.

"Go to Daddy, sweetie."

"Da-ee," Missy crowed happily, coming to Johnny willingly.

"Bye-bye, sweet girl," Joanne whispered.  One hand lifted, as if she was going to touch Missy once more, then it dropped, and she headed for the door.  "Come on, kids."

Chris followed his mother.  Roy put a hand on Jenny's shoulder and urged her to come along.

"Bye, Uncle Johnny," she said softly.

"Bye, Jenny Bean."

"We'll talk to you later, Johnny," Roy said.

"Okay, Roy.  And Roy?"

The older paramedic paused and turned.

"Thanks just doesn't seem to cut it... ya know?"

Roy nodded and then somehow managed a smile before he continued on.  Johnny heard the front door shut and the DeSoto family walked out of his daily life.

"Bapa go bye-bye," Missy said happily.

"Yeah... he went bye-bye," Johnny told her.  He decided he needed to get her busy before she realized Joanne was gone as well.  "Are you hungry, Pipsqueak?  You want some dinner?"

"Hung-ee," she answered, clapping her hands.

"Me too."  Johnny set her in her high chair and began to look for something quick for dinner.  He was too tired to cook anything complicated.

That was his last quiet moment.

Missy started asking for Joanne half way through dinner.  Johnny was able to distract her by playing games while they ate, then by giving her a bath.  But as it got later, and the little girl got more tired and less cooperative, her asking for Mama, turned into crying for Mama.

Johnny tried all the little tricks Joanne had taught him.  He walked the floor with her, he bounced with her, he gave her a bottle, he played soft music.  But each time he thought she was quieting down, she would wake herself up and begin again.

He tried doing what Dr. Royce had advised by putting Missy in her crib and letting her cry.  The system was to go in every ten or fifteen minutes to assure her she was all right, pat her a little, then leave the room.  It sounded good in theory, but after an hour, Johnny decided the idiot who'd thought it up had never had children.  In fact, he was beginning to believe that none of the so called experts in child psychology had ever raised a child.

It was nearly midnight now.  Johnny didn't know how Missy was still going strong.  She must be exhausted.  She had evolved from constant screaming, to a pattern of ragged sobbing that every ten minutes or so would erupt into a wail.

Things had never gone this far while they were at Roy's house.  But that was because after about an hour, Joanne would come in and Johnny gladly turned matters over to her.  Johnny was sorely tempted to call Joanne now and have her come rescue him again.  Missy's cries were tearing into his heart, and he was sure she must hate him.

He shut the nursery door, and walked wearily into the living room.  He wondered vaguely what the neighbors must be thinking.  With his luck Child Services would be knocking on his door any minute now demanding to know why he was torturing his baby.

As if on cue, Missy's cries increased in intensity and Johnny sat with his hands on his ears for a moment.  Then he reached for the phone.  This had to stop.

But he couldn't make his fingers punch in Roy's number.  As much as he wanted Joanne here, he hesitated.  If he called her - if he let her bail him out - what did that say of him?  What kind of father could he be if he couldn't even get through the first night?

But Missy's crying wouldn't stop.  And he was about at his wit's end.  He didn't know what else to do.  And then his fingers acted of their own accord and began to dial.

* * *

Roy lay awake, staring at the ceiling.  The pre-dawn light was just starting to filter into the bedroom, so he figured it was getting close to six o'clock.  It would take too much effort to lift his head and look at the clock.

He hadn't slept well.  And he knew Joanne hadn't either.  He'd heard her crying softly into her pillow around midnight.  He'd tried to be comforting, but she assured him she was all right.  That she was just being silly.

She was asleep now.  He could hear her even breathing.  But he knew he wasn't going to go back to sleep, so he got up out of bed.  He was careful not to disturb her as he slipped on his jeans and quietly left the bedroom.  He deliberately avoided looking into the empty nursery.  They planned on picking up another crib so Missy could use it when Joanne started babysitting.  But at this point, two months seemed an awfully long time away.  And even then, it would never be the same as before.  Missy wasn't theirs anymore.

His thoughts thus occupied, he came downstairs and busied himself putting the coffee on.  When the kids woke up, he'd make sure they didn't bother their mother.  He walked through the living room and opened the front door to pick up the paper.  The delivery boy had missed again, and Roy had to walk half way across the wet lawn to get it.

He brought it back inside and into the kitchen.  But when he opened it up, he didn't find anything of interest.  He shoved it across the table with a sigh.

He glanced at the clock again, wondering what kind of night Johnny had spent.  Judging from the way Missy had acted here at bedtime, it probably hadn't been very good.  A sudden impulse made him get up and go to the phone.  Anybody with a baby Missy's age would be awake by now.

He had to look up Johnny's new number since he didn't know it by heart yet.  He punched in the numbers then waited while it connected.  After a couple of rings it was picked up.  But instead of Johnny's voice, Roy heard a girl answer the phone.

"Hello?"  She was keeping her voice quiet, but Roy recognized her.

Francie?  He had Francie over?

He hung up the phone in disbelief that slowly changed into outrage.

He had that girl over?  While Joanne cried herself to sleep, Johnny was sleeping with that kid?  He takes our baby away from us and then brings that little tramp into the house with Missy there?  What the hell does he think he's doing?

The more he stewed over it, the madder her grew.  And he couldn't just sit here and do nothing.  It didn't matter whose baby Missy really was.  It was pretty damn clear that Johnny wasn't responsible enough to take care of her.

He grabbed his keys off the hook on the wall.

"Dad?  You going somewhere?"

Roy glanced over and saw Chris standing in the doorway in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.  He hadn't even combed his hair yet, and his blond bangs were hanging in his face.

"I gotta go out for a minute.  Let your mom sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Chris agreed amiably and shuffled toward the cabinet where Joanne kept the cereal.

Roy walked outside, wondering for an instant where his car was, before he remembered that with Johnny's things out of the garage there was room for two cars again.  Feeling foolish, he came back in the house and went out the service porch through the door that led to the garage.  He hit the button for the opener and climbed into his car while the big door was lifting.

His anger kindled as he made the fifteen minute drive to Johnny's house.  He was angry for Joanne and the pain she was feeling without the baby she'd raised.  He was angry for Johnny's stupidity that he'd make the same asinine mistakes that he always did with women.  He was angry for everything he'd done and seen trying to help and protect Johnny, only to have it thrown back in his face by his partner's careless disregard for any kind of responsibility.

He was so intent on making a list of the reasons he should wring Johnny's neck, that as he turned the corner to head down Johnny's street, he almost didn't see the black car that came racing around the corner, going at least double the residential speed limit.  They nearly collided, and would have if Roy hadn't seen the other car at the last minute and swerved out of his way.

Stupid jerk!

With heart pounding for his close call, Roy shook himself for being so dumb as to let his emotions rule while he was driving.  He was still trying to slow his racing pulse when he pulled into Johnny's driveway behind Francie's Nova.

But he didn't get out of the car.  He sat staring at the ugly black word that had been spray painted across the garage door.

Faggot

Roy slowly climbed out of the Porsche and walked up to the garage.  He could smell the fresh paint - so fresh that it was still dripping on some of the letters.  Now Roy's heart began racing for another reason.  Was it possible that he'd just seen the person responsible leaving the scene?  It was obvious Johnny hadn't seen this yet.

Roy's anger was now warring with concern for his friend's safety.  This was more than just a prank.  Whatever Roy felt like saying about Johnny's personal choices could wait for a better time.  This was something that needed to be addressed immediately.

He reached the front door and knocked, not worrying about waking anyone up.  They would need to get up and see this.  A long moment went by with no answer, so he knocked a little louder.

Finally the door opened a crack, and Francie peered out at him.  When she saw who it was, her eyes widened in surprise, and she opened the door wider.

"Roy?  What are you..."

"I need to see Johnny," Roy stated evenly.  "Can I come in?"

"Sure... but..."

She opened the door to let him in.  He noticed she was wearing shorts and an overlarge t-shirt.  Her hair was tousled, but she wore it like that most of the time, so he didn't know if he'd woken her up or not.

Roy's eyes took in the state of the living room.  There were glasses half filled with something on the coffee table and a few empty baby bottles, an array of Missy's toys were scattered around the room.  The couch had a pillow and a blanket on it where someone had slept.  But there was no sign of Johnny.

Maybe he's in the shower, Roy thought.

"Is Johnny here?"

"Yeah, but he's really out of it," Francie answered.  She ran a hand through her hair and yawned sleepily.  "He didn't get much sleep last night."

"I guess not," Roy scoffed, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Francie stared at him for a moment, her face puzzled, and then she grew indignant.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

Roy could tell she was mad, but for some reason she had kept her voice low.  He didn't want to get into an argument with her, so he worked on controlling his temper.

"Nothing.  Never mind.  Is Johnny in his room?  I really need to wake him up."

"Yeah," Francie answered, her face plainly showing her anger.  "But this better be damn important."

Roy didn't want to explain this twice, so he didn't rise to Francie's bait.  He walked down the hall, aware that the girl was right on his heels.  Since the house was small he didn't have far to go to get to Johnny's room.

He opened the door and stepped inside.  Then he stopped.  Johnny was sprawled across his bed on his back, one arm thrown across his eyes, the other wrapped around a sleeping Missy.  The baby was draped across his chest, her thumb in her mouth.  Both were deeply asleep.

As Roy stood there, a scenario unfolded that made him flush with embarrassment.  Johnny had obviously had a rough night with the baby.  He'd probably called Francie to come over and give him a hand.  His mind called up the couch with the blanket wadded up on it, and he knew where Francie had spent what little of the night she'd managed to sleep.

Ah, damn.... damn it all

He stepped back, sidestepping Francie, and softly closed the door.  They both walked silently back to the living room.  Roy stood there for a long time, wondering what in hell he was going to say.

"What was so all fired important?" Francie asked.

Roy looked at her, but her expression was neutral.  Roy sighed and beckoned her outside.

"Come on.  I'll show you."

"Freakin' nut job," was Francie's angry pronouncement as she and Roy stood in front of the garage door inspecting the vandalism.

"Has he done anything besides this.. I mean since that first time?"  Roy wouldn't put it past Johnny to keep quiet about any other harassment he'd been getting.

Francie shook her head.  "No.  Not that I know of anyway.  This is too weird, Roy.  Why would somebody be doing this?"

"I don't know.  But Johnny needs to take it seriously.  I think he should call the police... at least let them know about it."

Francie looked dubious.  "I dunno.  He's not gonna want to talk about this with somebody he doesn't know."

"He can call Crockett.  Johnny knows him.  And he knows all about the case, so it won't be awkward."

Francie nodded, but she didn't look confident that she would be able to convince Johnny.  Roy knew too well that she was probably right.  Johnny could be extremely stubborn about some things.

"Do what you can," he advised.  There was a moment of silence between them, and Roy knew he had to speak or he never would.  "Look... Francie.... about the other thing... in the house..."

She stood waiting, without saying a word.  She wasn't going to cut him any slack on this.

"I... I'm sorry.  I guess I... I jumped to the wrong conclusion.  I don't know what I was..."  He trailed off, feeling as lame as his words sounded.

"You were really out of line, Roy," Francie finally said, and Roy could hear the hurt in her voice.  In fact, there were unshed tears in her eyes, making him feel even more of a heel.

"I don't know what I've ever done to make you not like me," she went on.  "But you're Johnny's best friend, and I've tried to be nice to you.  Joanne says you're under stress, and I can appreciate that, but you sure make it hard to be your friend."

Now Roy really felt like a jerk.  She was right.  She'd never done anything wrong.  She'd been nothing but nice, and Roy had treated her worse than he would a stranger on the street.  He stared at his shoes, feeling like he was Chris's age.

"Francie... all I can say is I'm sorry.  I mean that.  I don't know why I've been acting the way I have.  I don't.  I'm not usually like that."

"That's what Joanne told me."

Roy looked up and he swore there was a twinkle in her eye.  She was letting him off the hook.  He dredged up a weak smile in return, even though he still felt like an idiot.  But his eyes found the spray paint on the garage and he grew serious again.

"Just be sure Johnny sees this as soon as he wakes up."

"I will," Francie promised.  "But what I'd like to do more is just paint over it so he'd never have to see it."

"So would I," Roy agreed.  "So would I."

Chapter Twenty

Johnny lay on his stomach on the small blanket he'd spread out on the grass.  His head was pillowed on his arms, and the sun was making him lazy.  But he made sure he didn't drift off.  Missy was nearby, playing in her pool, and though there wasn't much water in it, Johnny had seen first hand how little it took for a child to get into trouble.

Even though it was September, and Chris and Jenny had started back to school, it was still hot.  Summer in Southern California usually had a hard time letting go.  Johnny was taking advantage of the weather to soak up some sun on his back like Dr. Brackett encouraged him to do.  He said it would help the scars be less noticeable.  He'd also given him some cream to rub on them a couple times a day.

While he'd lived at Roy's house, Johnny had reluctantly allowed Roy to do that for him.  But here by himself, there wasn't anybody to help.  Now, as much as he contorted, all he could reach was his shoulders.  He figured he'd better at least get the sun part in so he wouldn't catch hell from Brackett on his next visit.  At least alone he could take off his shirt without feeling self-conscious.  Right now Missy was too little to know anything, though he did wonder what he would tell her when she got old enough to ask about his back.

"Mama," Missy called from the pool.

"Mama's not here, baby," Johnny answered automatically.

This had become routine for them.  Missy had stopped crying for Joanne for the most part, though bedtime was still hard.  But the toddler had started asking for her mother off and on during the day.  She didn't cry about it.  She just asked.  Johnny would give her his answer, and then she would go back to whatever she'd been doing.  Occasionally she would switch and ask for Bapa, with the same result.

"Mama go bye-bye," Missy said and returned to splashing in the water.

"Yeah, Mama go bye-bye," Johnny murmured to himself.  He supposed this would pass in time.  It was probably Missy's way of coping with missing Joanne and Roy.

He missed them too.  After living with them for so long, it was hard not to turn around and expect one DeSoto or another to pop up in his kitchen or living room.  At least he could talk to them on the phone.  That was something.

Except that his last phone conversation with Roy hadn't exactly been enjoyable.  They'd argued.

Francie said later that they were both stubborn mules, and she was probably right.  He knew Roy was concerned about his and Missy's safety.  But Johnny couldn't go to the police.  He couldn't talk to them about this without delving into things he was trying his best not to even think about.  Not even Crockett.  Although Roy thought that should make it easier, from Johnny's perspective it would actually be harder.  The lieutenant had seen the house.  He'd seen Reggie's toys.  While the other officers might only wonder what had happened, Crockett knew.

"What am I supposed to report, Roy?" Johnny had asked in exasperation.  'That somebody painted a nasty word on my garage?  That's no big deal to the cops.  They've got better things to do than check out every time somebody gets spray painted."

"But he's done it more than once," Roy reasoned, his own exasperation sounding clear on the phone.  "And he knows you moved.  That means he's following you.  God, Johnny... doesn't that scare you?"

"We'll be fine," Johnny had stated for the tenth time.  He knew he wasn't going to get Roy off his back about it, so he tried to switch gears and direct the conversation toward Roy and not himself.  "What about you?  You're not looking out for yourself either."

"What are you talking about?" Roy asked in confusion.

"I'm talking about you seeing Dr. Evans.  He keeps asking me when you're going to call.  He thinks it's important that you see him."

"We've had this conversation before," Roy stated, and Johnny could hear the suppressed anger in his friend's voice.

"I know," Johnny replied calmly.  "But I think it's important too.  Look, Roy... you took care of me all those months.  It's my turn to make sure you're okay."

He could hear Roy draw in a long, calming breath.  "I appreciate what you're saying... and your concern.  But... Johnny, even if I go see him... what in hell am I gonna say to him?  What can I possibly say?"

"You can tell him whatever's bothering you.  Tell him about what's making you angry.  Tell him about your nightmares."

"I can't."  Roy came close to shouting, but then he lowered his voice.  "Believe me, I just can't."

There hadn't been much to say after that.  They'd reached an impasse, and neither would budge.  Later, when he'd talked to Francie about it, she'd mentioned something Joanne had told her.  Something about Roy being unable to talk out his worries because he wouldn't betray Johnny's confidences.

"So maybe he's afraid he'll tell the doctor something you haven't," Francie had suggested.

That innocent statement had stayed with Johnny for two days now.

What are you afraid to tell the doctor, Roy.  What haven't I told the doctor?

Johnny lay under the sun, his mind still trying to sort it all out.

"Da-ee... Da-ee... I d'ink."

Johnny glanced up to see Missy lifting her pail up to her mouth and taking a big gulp of water.  He scrambled to his feet and rushed over to kneel by the pool. He took the pail from her as gently as possible.

"Don't drink the water, Pipsqueak," he laughed.  "It's dirty."

"Wa-doo," Missy protested loudly and splashed her hands into the pool.  "Wa-doo."

"I know, I know," Johnny said, dipping his own hand into the water and splashing her enough to make her giggle.  "But play... don't drink."

Missy kept slapping her hands at the water, getting Johnny wet and laughing about it.

"Hey..." Johnny protested, then laughed again.  "Good thing you're cute."

Missy giggled, then lifted up her arms, her smile growing big as she looked past Johnny.

"Faa-cie... Faa-cie."

Johnny turned to see Francie walking across the lawn from where she'd come in through the side gate.  Missy climbed out of the pool and ran towards the girl, who picked her up and held her close, not seeming to mind that the baby was soaking wet.

"I knocked but nobody answered," Francie told him.  "I figured you guys were back here."  She bounced Missy a little.  "Hey, you... are you swimming?"

"Wa-doo," Missy crowed, and wiggled to be let down.

"I see that," Francie laughed.  She set Missy down, and the little girl ran to get back in the water.

Johnny watched the exchange with a smile on his face, happy that the two of them were so comfortable with each other.  It wasn't until Francie walked over and sat down on the blanket, picking up Johnny's discarded shirt to make a spot, that he remembered he wasn't wearing it.

Shit!  Oh, shit... what am I gonna do now?

He didn't know how he could get to the blanket and put his shirt on without being conspicuous about it.  Not knowing what else to do, he stayed where he was, even though Francie was sure to wonder why he didn't come over and sit by her.

He didn't know how long he would have stayed where he was, but Francie suddenly put things in motion.  She picked up the tube of cream and glanced at the label.

"You're supposed to put this on your back, right?" she asked.

He didn't know how he managed to nod.  His body felt paralyzed, the only feeling the cold dread that had pooled in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, how the heck do you put it on?" Francie laughed.  "Come here and I'll do it for you."

He couldn't move.  He couldn't even feel his legs.  He knew he wasn't breathing normally.  He could feel his chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm.

I can't do this... not again. Not in front of Francie... and not with the baby here.

"It's okay, Jay.  It's gonna be okay."

Her soft voice was near his ear, but he hadn't even seen her come over.  When he felt her hand on his shoulder he expected a shudder to run through his body.  But it didn't happen.  Suddenly he could feel his legs again, his ragged breathing grew calmer.  And when Francie took him by the elbow to help him to his feet, he simply followed her lead.

"Come on over here and lay down on the blanket."

His feet moved without having to force them.  Something had changed inside himself.  He trusted Francie, and it suddenly didn't matter if she saw his back or not.  He lay down on the blanket, aware of Francie kneeling beside him.  He rested his head on his forearms and closed his eyes, not knowing what to expect when she actually touched him.

His shoulders jerked once.  He tried to tell himself it was because the lotion on Francie's hands was cold, though he knew that wasn't true.  But as her hands began to work the cream into his skin; moving across his shoulder blades and then down his back, he felt the tension gradually leave his body.  He knew she had to see his scars.  She had to feel them under her fingers.  But she never said a word.  She merely worked the lotion in, massaging away his fear of her touch.

When she finally stopped, he turned his head so he could watch her.  She put the cap back on the tube and set it aside.  Then she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them.

"He must have been a rat bastard," she finally commented, her voice quiet, but intense.

"He could be... he was... when he was mad," Johnny said, wondering that he could talk so easily about Reggie with her.  "But he wasn't always. Sometimes... sometimes I..."

"Sometimes you loved him?" Francie finished.  There was no disgust or disbelief.  Only the truth.

"Sometimes," Johnny admitted.  "Does that make any sense?  Can you hate somebody so bad and love them too?"

Francie shifted her head so she could meet Johnny's gaze.  "It makes perfect sense to me."

He knew she was talking about her mother.  She'd shared a little with him about her guilt over her conflicting emotions toward her mom.  And though it wasn't the same as it had been for Johnny with Reggie, she was probably the only person he knew who could even remotely understand what he felt about his captor.  Even Dr. Evans, though he was sympathetic and understanding of his patients' ordeals, had never experienced those terrifying and confusing feelings.  And Roy - as much as Roy tried to be supportive, Johnny didn't think his friend would ever fully comprehend why Johnny felt anything but absolute hatred for Reggie.

Johnny shifted so that he was lying on his side, his head propped on his elbow.  "Dr. Evans says what I felt wasn't good or healthy... that it was Reggie's way to control me.  But he also says I shouldn't feel bad about feeling it.  He says that's what's still messing me up.  I can't stop punishing myself for what I think I should have done."

He sighed and smiled weakly.  "Told ya I was a head case."

Francie smiled.  She reached out and took his hand in hers, bringing it to her mouth and kissing his palm.  It was over quickly, but it sent a jolt through Johnny that left his breathless.

"Yeah, but you're my head case," Francie said with a light laugh.

Johnny started to smile, but his face froze as he registered what she'd said.  That, along with the already electric reaction he'd had to the touch of her lips on his skin, triggered a response in him that took him by surprise.  He turned and lay back on the blanket, hoping he'd covered up the all too visible evidence of his feelings.  Missy helped him out by choosing that moment to come over and lay down on the blanket next to Johnny.

"Go ni-ni," she stated and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

"Not in that wet bathing suit," Johnny told her with a relieved laugh.

"I'll change her," Francie offered. "You stay here and get some more sun."  She scooped up Missy.  "Let's go get dry."

Johnny watched them disappear into the house, then exhaled noisily and lay back down.  His body's reaction to Francie both excited and frightened him.  For a long time he'd feared that after being with Reggie, his body wouldn't respond to a woman's touch - that the words being scrawled for the world to see might be true.  Dr. Evans kept assuring him that wasn't the way it worked.  You either were or you weren't, and nothing would alter that.  But he also said Johnny had to be careful not to let his mind convince himself that Reggie had changed him in some way.

Now he knew that his body would respond.  But he was still afraid.

* * *

"I need your help, Joanne."

Joanne looked up from the laundry she was folding.  She'd been wondering when Francie would get around to telling her why she'd dropped by.  For an instant she had an incredible flash of deja vu - of the day Kathy had sat on the couch where Francie was now.  She'd asked for help too.  But Joanne shook off the feeling.  She didn't think Johnny would make the same mistake again.  Besides, she was positive these two hadn't even reached that point in their relationship.

"What can I do for you?"

Francie reached over and grabbed a pair of Chris's jeans and folded them, setting them on the pile for him to put away later, when he came home from school.  She grabbed a t-shirt, but never quite got it folded.  She just held onto it as she talked.

"I wanna cook dinner for Johnny... not just something from a can.  A nice dinner, you know?"

Joanne nodded her understanding, trying not to smile at the girl's nervousness.  "At your place or his?

"His place," Francie answered as if it was obvious.  "My place isn't... well, it wouldn't be very romantic."

"You should move from there, sweetie," Joanne advised.  She'd worried about the girl being alone there ever since Roy told her where Francie lived.

Francie gave her a wry smile.  "You're right.  Nobody should have to live there.  Unfortunately I can't afford any place else."  She glanced down at her lap and realized she was still clutching the shirt.  She  smoothed it out and folded it.  "At his place," she repeated.

"What's the occasion?" Joanne asked, knowing full well that when you were young and in love you didn't need an occasion.

Francie shrugged.  "Just because."  A shy smile appeared on her face for a moment, but then it changed into one of entreaty.  "But I can't cook... not really.  I was wondering... if maybe you could teach me.  I know Johnny loves your cooking."

Joanne had to hide a smile at the request.  People who didn't cook always thought it was only a matter of an hour or so of instruction, rather than years of practice filled with both failure and success.  But she knew this was important to Francie.  She also knew the girl had never had a chance to learn at her mother's side.

She patted Francie's knee.  "I'll tell you what... you can start with something simple.  But I guarantee Johnny will love it."

"What is it"

"Spaghetti."

Francie looked disappointed.  "But spaghetti is so..."

"Not this spaghetti," Joanne assured her

 And she launched into the tale of how Johnny had tried to play referee for Roy and herself, all because of Mike Stoker's spaghetti.  By the time she was done, Francie was laughing.

"Believe me," Joanne finished.  "Johnny sure walked on eggshells around me for a while.  And he never butted into any more of mine and Roy's disagreements."

"That would have been funny," Francie said.

Joanne shook her head and chuckled.  "Well, at the time I didn't think it was funny.  But Johnny's not the only one who's matured over the years.  I learned not to be so sensitive."

The clothes were folded by now, and Joanne stood up, gesturing for Francie to follow her.

"Come on.  Lesson number one... how to boil water."

After spending a fair amount of time in the kitchen, during which Joanne realized that Francie knew more than she thought she did, she just needed confidence and a good recipe, they were back in the living room.  Joanne watched as Francie finished making up the shopping list she would need for her dinner.  She was bent over her paper, the tip of her tongue between her lips as she concentrated. Joanne smiled at how much she looked like Jenny at that particular moment.

She really is young, no matter how mature she can be at times.

Another thought suddenly crossed Joanne's mind.  With having virtually no mother to teach her or guide her, what else did Francie need to know before her relationship with Johnny went very much further?  But this was awkward.  She might be crossing a line.

She took a deep breath.

"Um... Francie... can I ask you something.  It's a little personal... you can tell me to mind my own business if you want."

Francie glanced up from her list and gave Joanne a quizzical look.  "Sure."

Joanne smiled nervously, decided this was practice for when Jenny was older, and took the plunge.

"Well... I was just wondering.... if you were on the pill... or..."

Francie looked confused for a moment, then her eyes widened and her face flushed.  She let her gaze  drop to her lap and she fidgeted with her pencil.

"I'm sorry," Joanne said quietly.  "I just didn't know if you were... prepared, you know."

"That's okay, Joanne," Francie told her, still not looking up.  "And no... I guess I'm not.... prepared, that is."  She glanced up and met Joanne's eyes briefly before looking away again.  "It's not something I ever had to worry about before.  I... I was always working and then taking care of Mom.  It just... it just never mattered."

As Joanne listened, as she realized what Francie was telling her, she felt a surge of sympathy for the life the girl must have led.

She really isn't the street kid Roy thinks she is.

"That's okay," she stated resolutely.  "Nothing at all wrong with that in my book.  But if you don't mind, you and I are going to have a little woman to woman chat."

* * *

"Everything looks good, Johnny.  I don't see any problem with you starting back to work next month."

Johnny was sitting on the exam table in Treatment Room 1, buttoning up his shirt.  Dr. Brackett had just finished checking him over.

"Your weight's staying steady and your iron count is too.  Dr. Reynolds says your knee is pretty close to good as new."

"It should be," Johnny groused.  "With the work outs you two have me doing."

Brackett chuckled.  "That's why we became doctors... so we can tell other people to exercise."

The paramedic laughed.  "I can believe that."  He slid down off the table.  "Did you turn in the paperwork to the Department?"

"I did.  They've got the reports from me, from Dr. Reynolds and from Dr. Evans.  And I heard you passed the fitness test yesterday."

Johnny rolled his eyes remembering the grueling day he'd had with a half dozen new recruits, all running obstacle courses, hauling hose, climbing ladders and whatever other torture the brass decided they needed to pass to be allowed to work as firemen. The newbies would go on to the Academy.  Johnny would have to wait another month for the opening at 51.

"What about my certification?" he asked.  That was his last hurdle.  He'd taken the exam almost a week ago and was eager to hear the news.

"I called," Brackett answered.  "They promised they'd have the results by Monday.  But you studied hard, Johnny.  Plus you have four years experience under your belt.  I'm not worried about how you did."

Johnny tucked his shirt in.  "I'm not really worried either.  But I'll be happier when I finally know for sure."

Brackett patted his shoulder encouragingly.  "I don't think you need to come in regularly anymore.  Just know you can always call me."

"Thanks, Doc.  Thanks for everything."

He walked out the door and into the hallway.  He spied Dixie at the nurse's station.  Missy was sitting up on the desk while Dixie entertained her.  Johnny smiled as he headed that way, grateful for his old friend's willingness to watch the baby while he had his visit.  Normally Joanne did that, but for right now at least, Joanne was out of the picture.

Dixie saw him coming.  She picked Missy up and walked out from behind the desk.

"Look who's here."

Missy's head turned and her face lit up.  "Da-ee, Da-ee!"  She reached for Johnny just as he got there, and he took her into his arms.

"How's my girl?  Were you good for Dixie?"

"She was good as gold," Dixie reported with a smile.  She ran her hand over Missy's head.  "We got along great.  If you ever need a babysitter, feel free to call."

Johnny felt a wave of guilt since that's just what he had intended.  It must have shown on his face, for Dixie laughed.

"John Gage, I can read you like a book.  Just tell me when."

Johnny knew his face was red, but he gave Dixie a grin that was only half-apologetic.  "I wouldn't ask... I mean, Missy and I haven't been on our own that long, and I don't want to confuse her any more than she has to..."

"I do have to get back to work some time today," Dixie teased.

Johnny chuckled self-consciously, aware he'd been stalling.  "All right.  Friday night.  Francie wants to cook dinner for us... for the two of us.  I mean, she didn't say that.  She doesn't mind that Missy's there.  But I thought... well, I just thought it might be nicer if..."

"If it really was just the two of you," Dixie supplied with a knowing grin.

Johnny flushed again, but Dixie had reached out to take his hand and squeeze it warmly.

"Of course I'll watch her.  In fact," the nurse reached out and tweaked Missy's nose, making her laugh.  "Why don't you just let this little monkey spend the night with me.  That way you don't have to worry about coming to get her if your evening runs late."

"That's okay, Dix," Johnny began.  "I don't mind coming and getting her.  Besides, she probably shouldn't be away from our place while she..."  He stopped as he realized what Dixie had been implying.  "Dixie... I don't think.. I mean, that's not what I meant when I said dinner.  We weren't planning..."

"Of course you weren't," Dixie laughed.

Johnny thought he'd been red before, but now he figured his face must be the color of the squad.  Dixie finally took pity on him.

"All right.  I'll leave you alone.  But if you want her to spend the night, it's no problem."

"Okay, okay."  He finally managed a smile.  "I'll think about it.  But don't you have to work the next day?"

Dixie shook her head.  "Not until later in the morning... around ten.  So it should be just fine."  She linked her arm with Johnny's.  "Come on, I'll buy you pie and coffee."

Johnny finally gave his old friend a smile, but he could still feel the heat radiating off his face as they left the emergency room and headed to the cafeteria.

Part 5