Serendipity

  Part 7

Friday night came quickly, and the three couples were in different stages of making their way to the restaurant. Wesley drove dangerously, still enraged that his plan hadn’t worked, and that now he would be forced to spend the whole evening with Gage and his snooty girlfriend. Doreen tried to calm him, telling him that the others would notice his mood, and the glare she’d received instantly quieted her. She’d recoiled when he’d lashed out at her, blaming her for not coming up with a more specific activity to do with the DeSotos – one that couldn’t have included Gage. After that, she’d fallen silent, once again afraid to argue for fear of him instilling his wrath on her later. She was fairly certain that her husband would put on his usual charming act as soon as they got to the restaurant, and secretly looked forward to spending the evening at such a posh restaurant. She wasn’t quite sure how they were going to afford it, but didn’t dare bring up those reservations.

John and Heather arrived late, after an argument over which tie he should wear consumed nearly ten minutes. In the end, Johnny had lost, and now wore the pink small-print silk tie that Heather bought for him, one that matched her dress perfectly. Johnny had been mortified that she’d wanted him to wear a ‘pink’ tie, and Heather had argued first, that, first, it wasn’t pink, it was ‘mauve’, and two, the best-dressed men in Europe were wearing ties just like it, and that the old boring navy striped ties were out of fashion. He’d smoldered silently in the car on the way, angry that she’d gotten her way once again, but by the time they’d arrived, he had cooled off. Just seeing her elegant form step from the car when the valet opened her door took his breath away, and soon he forgot what tie he was wearing as he, not for the first time, marveled at the fact that this stunning woman was his.

Roy, Joanne, Wes, and Doreen were all waiting in the restaurant’s foyer when Johnny pulled his Corvette up the circular drive in front of the building. Joanne and Doreen’s breath had caught at the sight of the interior of the late nineteenth century home turned restaurant; La Régalade had the reputation as one of the best restaurants in LA, not to mention the wine list was one of the most extensive in California. The small French establishment had an elegant but cozy feel, and crystal chandeliers with real wax-burning candles hung from the ten-foot ceilings. Elaborate wallpapers, all original, adorned the vertical surfaces, accentuated with gilt mirrors and rich mahogany woodwork. The four sat waiting on lush velvet davenports as they took in their surroundings. Wesley had just glanced down at his watch when they heard the Maitre’d pull the large leaded glass doors open to reveal their late dinner companions.

Johnny and Heather entered the restaurant and were immediately greeted lavishly by the Maitre’d. The smiling man reached forward and took Heather’s hand in his and planted a kiss on the back of it, followed by a warm greeting in French to the both of them, as if they were long lost friends.

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Gage et Mademoiselle Banks! C'est si bon de vous voir. J'ai une table splendide vous a préparé à ce soir. Vos amis sont déjà ici.”

“Merci, Antoine. C'est toujours un plaisir pour vous voir,” Heather responded in perfect French.

Johnny smiled and nodded, understanding about half of what the man said. He caught enough of it to know that the man was offering a congenial greeting, that he had prepared a nice table for them, and something about their friends. He was surprised that he was able to retain that much, given the short amount of time Heather had been working with him to teach him French. He and Heather turned at the man’s gesture toward the other two waiting couples, who were now standing, looking their way.

Johnny and Heather both smiled, and headed toward them. Johnny walked slowly, and with a limp, but he looked good, Roy noticed. As the late couple approached, none of the four could help but stare.

Heather was stunning in an off-the shoulder pink Chanel dress; a single diamond pendant sparkled at her neckline, and her hair was elegantly pulled back into a twist at the nape of her neck. She walked with grace and poise, her hand resting in the crook of Johnny’s arm. Johnny was positively dashing in a two-piece Giorgio Armani dark gray suit; the pink silk tie showed off the slight tan he had acquired from many hours spent outside walking with Heather, trying to get his strength back. He stood tall and straight, not looking anything like he had in the hospital. His hair was styled neatly and combed perfectly, and the paleness of his skin was long gone. He’d gained all his weight back, and more, and his shoulders looked broad and strong in the expensive jacket he wore. He produced his trademark crooked grin upon seeing Roy and Joanne. He could have been a model.

Wesley hadn’t seen him since he’d been released from the hospital, and suddenly felt both stunned and intimidated at the same time. Urges he’d fought to keep buried threatened to surface as he stared at John, and his emotions whirled. Gage looked so appealing, so handsome, so masculine, that Wesley felt his pulse surge. Stop it! His mind screamed from deep inside himself, and the feelings of lust sickened him. It was Roy he wanted, not Gage, so why was he standing there mesmerized by the very man he had loathed all these weeks? He almost felt unfaithful as he stood looking at Johnny, undressing him in his mind. He couldn’t help but stare, but suddenly intense jealousy replaced the lust. He saw the way Roy was looking at John as they greeted one another, DeSoto’s toothy grin reflecting a warmth and deep friendship that Wesley realized that Roy had never quite demonstrated for him. Suddenly his unsatisfied longings felt overwhelming as he watched the two together, laughing and talking; he was barely able to stand witnessing the interaction, and he wondered if the two of them had ever been together.

He knew Roy was happily married, at least he appeared to be, but everyone knew a man could be married and still prefer men to women. Wesley knew because that’s how he was. Oh, it wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to women too, but most women had never been interested in him, except Doreen, and she was unextraordinary. He’d gotten married because he had wanted to have kids. Maybe if he’d have been able to be with a woman like Gage’s, things would have been different. But for some reason, he’d always been more attracted to men. They just seemed a lot more approachable. And being able to work with them easily satisfied his fetish. It was one of the reasons he had decided to be a fireman.

Wesley had wanted Roy from the moment they’d met; he’d felt the electricity between them, and over the weeks had silently prayed for some sign from DeSoto that he might be interested. They’d grown close, so he thought, and at times he had managed a friendly touch – an affectionate squeeze to Roy’s shoulder or friendly pat on his rear, the kind of stuff football players did in the locker rooms. Roy’s expression at those times had been unreadable, so Wesley took it as acquiescence. More and more lately, Adams had taken advantage of any opportunity to touch Roy.

Seeing Gage and Roy together made him pine for what he’d almost had with Gordon, or what his mind perceived that he’d almost had, and he ached to have another close relationship like that. It was true, Gordon had been married too, but Wesley was sure the man had wanted something more. It had started out just like it did with him and Roy. They had become good friends. They had done everything together. Wesley had learned all about Gordon’s likes and dislikes, all his hobbies and desires, and made them his, thinking there might be a chance for the two of them. Just when Wesley judged it was time to make a move, Gordon had died in a fire. It was so unfair; everyone had blamed him! Oh, they didn’t come right out and say it was his fault, but there had been the questions and the stares, and worst of all the investigation and inquiries, even though in the end they were unable to prove he had been at fault. Adams had never been able to admit to himself that he had not only been responsible for the other fireman’s death, but also inadvertently, for Gordon’s. It was a fact too painful to acknowledge. Finally Wesley had left, not being able to stand the constant accusatory looks of blame and mistrust in his coworkers’ eyes.

He’d been devastated, and worked at two other stations unsuccessfully trying to find a new place to fit in and a new partner before he finally moved to LA and found this substitute job with 51’s. He’d be damned if anyone was going to take Roy away, now that he’d found him. He could never have imagined how mortified the other two men would have been had they known his thoughts.

 Adams burned slowly from the inside, barely able to maintain his fake calm and jovial exterior, as Johnny and Heather were introduced to Doreen. It was all Wesley could do to keep from slapping his wife as he noticed her practically drooling over Gage. Gold cufflinks peeked out from the hem of Johnny’s sleeves, another gift from Heather, as he reached to shake Doreen’s hand, then took Joanne’s hand and squeezed it, while he kissed her cheek. Joanne blushed at his suave behavior and his comments at how lovely she looked, and she gushed in return at how debonair Johnny looked. Heather was equally charming; she was always able to find a positive quality about a person and call attention to it, and she did so tonight as she greeted Doreen and complimented her on her perfectly unblemished skin. That was followed by a request to know her secret to such a beautiful complexion, and a desire to know what beauty products she used to maintain it.

Finally the smalltalk was over, and they were invited to follow Antoine to their table. The dining room was equally elegant. Softly lit mostly by candlelight, the tables were adorned with beautiful china and crisp white linens. A gleaming black baby grand piano was being played softly by a tuxedoed man off in the corner. With its French chateaux murals, and elaborate floral displays, La Régalade was truly a romantic restaurant.

 Menus were handed around, and everyone settled down to enjoy. Four sets of brows furrowed simultaneously as they opened the menu and discovered that not only was it all in French, but there were no prices. Roy looked up to see Johnny and Heather engrossed in discussing something on the menu, their foreheads practically touching.

Johnny broke the silence as he looked up and asked if anyone would care for some wine.

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Doreen answered. She was enthralled with her surroundings, taking in everything with abandon, the utter enchantment evident on her face.

“John, why don’t you choose something for our guests,” Heather suggested.

Johnny glanced uncertainly at Heather and hesitated. “Well….I….I don’t – ”

“Yes, Johnny. Why don’t you pick something for us?” Joanne agreed, smiling. “Since you two have been here before, you’ll know better than us what’s good.”

“O-okay.” He began to study the wine menu, hoping he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and pick the wrong wine. As he looked over the selections, he realized that he really couldn’t make a mistake; there wasn’t a bad wine on the whole menu.

Concentrating on picking something everyone would like, he finally said, “Okay, ah,” he looked up, “does everyone like Cabernet?”

They all looked around, nodding. Roy said, “Johnny, anything you pick will be fine.”

Heather laid her hand on John’s forearm. “Which one do you like, darling?”

He turned to her, trying to hide the fact that he was a little unsure of his choice, and said, “Well, I thought maybe the Clos Du Val Cabernet; this one,” he pointed, “1970.”

Apparently it was a good choice. Heather’s face lit up and she said, “Oh, excellent selection, John. They’ll love it.” She turned to the others and said, “It’s very dark and rich, but not too heavy. It has hints of blackberry and vanilla, with a nice long finish.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Joanne cooed.

Heather looked seductively into Johnny’s eyes and reached up to brush a stray hair away from his face. “It will be perfect for tonight,” she murmured approvingly as the back of her fingertips made a trail down the side of his face before dropping to find his hand. Johnny swallowed, lost in her eyes, then licked his lips as he suddenly got the urge to taste her mouth, but held himself back. Joanne smiled knowingly as she watched the interaction between them, and nudged Roy. For a long moment, Heather and Johnny were staring at each other as if there were no one else in the room, and Roy clearly saw the effect Heather was having on his partner, almost as if he were hypnotized by her. Without checking, Roy knew Johnny’s blood pressure was rising, and noticed Heather’s hand had dropped under the tablecloth and appeared to be resting on Johnny’s thigh. That wouldn’t be the only thing rising if she didn’t stop, he mused. He glanced over at Joanne with a smirk, slightly shaking his head and rolling his eyes, the expression conveying that his partner was really ‘in deep’ this time. She smiled back then, and leaning in, exchanged a quick, but sweet, kiss with her husband. Doreen looked uncomfortably away from both couples, wishing she and her husband shared that type of attraction for each other.

The waiter appeared beside Johnny, and Gage broke his eye contact away from Heather. The man greeted them in French first, then introduced himself as Phillippe, and asked if they cared for some wine. Heather looked at Johnny expectantly. As soon as Johnny began to speak, she prompted, “In French, John. Order it in French.”

His eyes widened at her, and he suddenly seemed to lose his voice. Heather had been teaching him French, but he didn’t think now was the time to show off his ineptitude at it. “I…I don’t…” he stammered.

“Of course you can. En français, mon amour,” she encouraged.

Johnny glanced around nervously at all the others. This was the first time in his life that he’d played the host, and he felt like he was at his coming out party or something. It felt uncomfortable, and suddenly, the neck of his shirt seemed so tight he felt he could hardly breathe. Clearing his throat, he pulled nervously at his collar, hoping he wouldn’t order the wrong thing. “Ah, nous…uh…aimerions….une…bouteille…..du Clos Du Val Cabernet, 1972, s'il vous plaît.”

The waiter seemed pleased and answered, “Très bon, monsieur. Tout de suite.” He turned to fetch the wine.

Everyone was impressed except Wesley. Heather beamed. Johnny took a great breath, glad he hadn’t screwed up, and relaxed, then broke out in a wide smile, enjoying the other’s obvious amazement at his bilingual ability.

“Johnny, I didn’t know you could speak French!” Joanne said.

His face was turning a slow shade of pink, and he said shyly, “Well, Heather’s been teaching me. She’s fluent; I just know a few words.”

“It sounds like you know a lot more than a few words, Johnny.” Roy complimented.

“Well,” he joked, “You have to learn the important things first, like, ‘I need a drink’,” he chuckled, “and of course, my favorite, ‘where’s the bathroom’.” The others laughed, and Johnny relaxed a bit, feeling like he’d just passed some sort of test.

Wesley decided to join in and commented, “Maybe you should learn, ‘I need a doctor’. That could come in handy for you,” he laughed, trying to be funny. His joke went over like a lead weight, as the others smiled uncomfortably.

“John, did you take any languages in high school?” Joanne asked quickly, trying to smooth over Wesley’s distasteful comment.

“Yeah, I took a little Spanish. Actually, I probably know that better than French. Bein’ around Marco has helped; he’s taught me a lot. And, of course, I know some Sioux too.”

“Oh, yes, Johnny, I always forget you grew up on a reservation!” Joanne commented. “Say something in Sioux for us.”

Johnny looked uncomfortable now. Heather was looking away, and while she’d never said anything derogatory about his Indian background, he always sensed it wasn’t something she wanted everyone to know about, given the negative stereotypical attitude many people had about American Indians.

Johnny shrugged. “Ah, you don’t want to hear that.”

“I do,” Roy said seriously. He was genuinely interested. “You never talk about your heritage much, Johnny. Now that Chet isn’t around to give you a hard time about it, I’d like to hear you speak in your native language.”

Johnny’s eyes went from Roy to Heather, and very hesitantly, he said, “Lowachin lahcake lo.”

The others looked at each other and Doreen asked, “What does that mean?”

Johnny answered, “It means, ‘I am very hungry’, in Lakota.”

“Say something else, Johnny,” Joanne said encouragingly. “I’ve never heard anyone speak an Indian language before. It’s fascinating!”

Johnny smiled in embarrassment, then after glancing over at Heather, said, “Henanyela owihanke’.”

Curious, Roy asked, “Okay, what’s that mean?” He turned to Wesley. “He probably just insulted us without us knowing it.” He had a wry smile on his face.

Johnny just shook his head and said, “It means, ‘that’s all’,” his intention to end the conversation clear. The waiter appeared with the wine behind him, and Johnny was intensely glad for the distraction. Phillippe presented the bottle for him to inspect, and after he nodded, the waiter opened it, and poured a small amount into Johnny’s glass. Everyone watched as Johnny inspected the wine, then tasted it, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing, just as Heather had taught him. He looked up at the waiter. “C'est très bon.” After that, the waiter proceeded to pour wine into the rest of the glasses, and the conversation about languages was forgotten as they all enjoyed their drinks.

When Phillippe returned a little later, he relayed the special dishes they had prepared for the evening, first in French, then in English for the others, including an eight-course meal for $75.00 per person. Among some of the delights included were sevruga caviar, an authentic bouillabaisse with fish stock excels, crispy rock lobster, and filet mignon. The meal would be finished off with a variety of decadent chocolate desserts, breads, and an assortment of fruits and cheeses. Heather went over the finer points of the menu with everyone, naming the different dishes, but by the time she had finished, everyone was too confused to know what to order. It wasn’t an ordinary fare, and each of them was bewildered. Johnny suggested they all simply order the eight-course special, and after some hesitation regarding the expense, the other two couples agreed. When they were ready, Johnny nervously ordered once again for all of them, in French, at Heather’s urging. He was intensely glad when he had finished, his only consolation had been that none of his guests knew French, so they wouldn’t know if he had made a mistake. He only hoped he hadn’t ordered shoelaces or something for someone, but since the waiter didn’t laugh, he figured he’d done okay.

The meal arrived, one course at a time, and was mouth-watering. By the time the desserts reached their table, everyone was fully stuffed, and the eating slowed down while everyone talked.

Wesley made it a point to talk shop with Roy, and kept up a steady conversation about all the interesting runs they’d been on together, and all the things happening at the station. A few times, Johnny tried to interject something related to what they were saying, only to be mostly ignored by Wesley, and he would continue on in his conversation with Roy as if Johnny hadn’t spoken. After a while, Johnny grew quiet, just observing and nodding as they spoke. Roy tried to include John in their conversation, but Wesley did his best to downplay any comments Johnny made.

Doreen did the same thing with Joanne. She began talking about the children, taking her husband’s cue and keeping up a steady stream of child-related subjects that she and Joanne became engrossed in. Heather, not having any children of her own, listened in and tried to take part whenever she could, but soon grew bored with it, and felt excluded. Feeling ignored and a little irritated, Heather glanced at Johnny, wondering if he felt they were being as rude as she did. He was staring at Roy intently, his face in a frown, and she wondered what he was thinking. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet.

There was a small area around the piano and two couples were dancing slowly to some romantic piano music. The pianist was playing ‘On the Street Where You Live’ from the musical ‘My Fair Lady’, and suddenly inspired, Heather grabbed Johnny’s hand and squeezed it. He turned to her, and she was surprised at how sad he looked. Or maybe it wasn’t sadness, maybe it was just weariness. At any rate, she decided he needed a distraction. “Dance with me?” she asked softly.

Johnny looked over to the area where the other couples were dancing. He didn’t need to think too long before he answered. He pushed his chair back, then pulled out Heather’s for her, and together, they made their way over, holding hands. He took her in his arms, and slowly they swayed to the music, holding each other. He closed his eyes, and drew her closer, dancing with her cheek to cheek. The song changed, then changed again. The other two couples left, leaving them alone to dance. They didn’t notice. Johnny hugged her tight, the soft, romantic music and closeness to her eliciting strong emotions. While he hadn’t acknowledged it to himself consciously, at the table he’d begun to feel abandoned and left out; it had dredged up old insecurities and unpleasant feelings from way back in his past when he’d felt lost and alone growing up on the reservation, especially after his family had died. He hadn’t felt that way for a long time. Just the feeling of being wanted by someone right now affected him very powerfully.  Looking down into her sparkling eyes, he murmured, “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi,” she whispered back, and he kissed her very tenderly. A moment later, the song ended, and they heard a few people clapping softly. He opened his eyes and saw the pianist give a slight nod to the patrons who were clapping for his playing, then Johnny’s face suddenly grew hot as he realized he and Heather were the only ones there, and that half the restaurant was watching them. Taking her by the hand, he led Heather from the dance floor, and once again pulled out her chair for her to sit. “I’ll be right back,” he told her, and limped away from the table to go to the rest room.

“Where’s Johnny going?” Joanne asked, wondering if he perhaps had some other surprise in store for them that night, after everything else.

“Men’s room,” Heather answered.

Roy scrutinized Johnny as he slowly departed, his limp seeming more pronounced than when they had arrived. “Is he all right?” Roy asked.

“Yeah, that’s the third time tonight, I think; isn’t it?” Wesley commented, trying to sound concerned.

Heather thought his comment was inappropriate and insensitive and remarked with a tight smile, “I didn’t know anyone was keeping count.” The smile on her lips didn’t travel to her eyes, which glared at Wesley stonily, as if in a challenge. Then she turned to Roy and said in a slightly clipped tone, “Actually, he’s lucky to be doing as well as he is considering what he went through with that injury.”

The tension in the air suddenly became thick, and Roy tensed as he exchanged looks with Heather. It wasn’t the first time tonight that Wes had made a rather derogatory comment toward Johnny, and while he didn’t voice it, Roy was beginning to get annoyed at the man. He could see that Heather felt the same way. Now after Heather’s comment, Roy wondered exactly how well Johnny was doing. He hadn’t seen much of him lately; though he seemed to be progressing well, he knew that Johnny didn’t always tell him everything. In thinking about it further, Johnny had been rather elusive about his recovery since getting out of the hospital.

Uneasiness washed over Roy as he considered the possibility that maybe Johnny wasn’t doing quite as well as he thought he was; an emotion that was accompanied by a little prickle of guilt, as he wished now that he’d kept closer tabs with Johnny since leaving the hospital. He realized he’d been lax at keeping in touch, at a time when he should have been doing the opposite – making an effort to keep the lines of communication open with his best friend during a time that he knew was probably very emotionally demanding. What was it that Doctor Early had said? Something like…‘He’s going to need a lot of support and understanding during this time. I’m certain that between the two of you and all the friends that Johnny has, he’ll receive all of the help he needs.’ Roy sighed inwardly, thinking it was about time he started offering some of that support he should have been giving. Why hadn’t he done it so far? Had he just grown lazy, feeling like all the attention he’d given Johnny in the hospital had been enough? Was he self-consciously sloughing off his responsibility on Heather, thinking that Johnny preferred to be with her, and that he wasn’t really needed or wanted by Johnny anyway? Or was it partially that every time he had a spare moment, it seemed like Wesley Adams showed up on his doorstep? Maybe it was a combination of all those things. And Wesley. That was another thing. Worrying about whether Johnny would ever come back to work brought to light another uncomfortable thought – that he might be permanently partnered with Wesley. For some reason, the thought of that sent an involuntary shiver down Roy DeSoto’s spine. 

As he sat there thinking about it, he decided things needed to change. To start with, he needed an honest assessment of how Johnny was really doing, and now that Johnny was gone, it seemed like a good opportunity to question Heather about it. After all, when Johnny had been in the hospital, they had been partners in communication over his illness. Maybe she could paint a more accurate picture than Johnny had. Roy looked at Heather earnestly, leaning toward her a bit. “How is he doing, really, Heather?”

Heather sighed, knowing Roy was probably anxious to know when John would be returning to work. “Well, he’s doing pretty well. He’s improved a lot since he’s been home, but he’s still got a long way to go with the physical therapy. He probably has at least another six weeks of that. Considering how much damage was done to him, he’s really recovering remarkably. He does still have some pain from time to time, but nothing that can’t be managed. Frankly, I’m amazed that he’s come this far in so short a period of time; you wouldn’t believe how hard he’s worked to get where he is tonight.” She didn’t mention that she had been behind some of that recovery in her constant pushing during Johnny’s convalescence.

Yeah, I would, Roy thought, remembering the other times Johnny had recovered from serious injuries.

Heather went on. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as determined as John. That being said….it still hasn’t been that long ago since he was shot. I think it’s still going to take a while for all that trauma to heal completely.”

The longer the better, Wesley thought. He hadn’t liked her tone toward him, but asked casually, “How long will it be until he’s healed up well enough to work? I mean, it’s not going to be easy to fight fires when you have to….you know, be running to the restroom every half hour.”

With that comment, Roy, Joanne, and Heather all glared incredulously at him. Then they saw Johnny approaching, and Heather clipped, “I really don’t know.”

Everyone looked a little uncomfortable when John returned and sat down, and he wondered what they had been talking about. 

Trying to break the tension, Joanne smiled at him, and said, “Johnny, we can’t thank you enough for this lovely evening. The two of you just look so wonderful tonight. Heather, that dress is gorgeous, and Johnny, well, I don’t know when I’ve ever seen you looking so handsome.”

Heather smiled warmly, thanking her, and Johnny said, “You know, Jo, your husband’s lookin’ pretty good tonight too. Roy, that’s a new jacket, isn’t it? It looks great on you!”

Wesley tried not to frown as he listened to the conversation.

“Thanks, Johnny. Actually, Joanne picked it out for me.” Heather nudged Johnny in the side playfully at Roy’s comment, and he nudged her back.

“And he looks devilishly handsome in it, I might add,” Joanne crooned, making it a point to compliment her husband as well. She affectionately gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Yeah, he does,” Johnny agreed, then smiling wryly added, “Those gray hairs hardly show up at all with you wearing that navy blazer.”

Roy threw his napkin at Johnny. “Yeah, gray hairs you gave me, I might add.”

The playful banter went back and forth, with John and Roy lobbing good-natured insults at each other, until finally they were both laughing so hard that tears nearly fell from their eyes, and Johnny’s abdomen began to hurt.”

Johnny wiped at his eyes with his napkin after Joanne told them to cut it out, since a few of the other patrons had turned to look from their seats, and they settled down. Wesley sat with a smile artificially glued to his face, pretending to be amused at their interaction.

Piping hot coffee was finally served, and after the desserts were consumed, the evening wound down. Heather noticed Johnny’s eyes were growing heavy despite the caffeine, and realized the evening had taken a lot out of him. It was really the first time he’d been out since the accident to socialize, other than the physical therapy sessions at the hospital, and a short visits with Roy and Joanne, and he looked like he was ready to crash. She suggested that they leave, and he didn’t argue. He had been shifting in his seat for the last twenty minutes, his pelvic area was starting to ache from sitting on the stiff chair for so long, and he was feeling anxious to get home and take some pain medication.

Johnny stood up tiredly, announcing that he and Heather were leaving, but encouraged the other four to stay and finish their coffee. Roy and Joanne stood up to bid their good-byes, then Wesley and Doreen followed suit, thanking them. Johnny had already made sure the bill was taken care of; when he’d gone to the restroom the last time, he’d spoken with the Maitre’d and offered his credit card, telling him to put the entire tab and tip on it.

The four watched them leave, and Roy noticed the lines of stress on Johnny’s face. He decided he would make it a point to stop and see Johnny on his next day off. He wanted to talk to Johnny about when he might be coming back to work, and make sure he was doing okay.

Gleeful that Johnny and Heather had finally left, Wesley was not satisfied to end their evening out, and invited the DeSotos over for a nightcap. To his dismay, they begged off, wanting to get home to check on the kids. Using the excuse that they had used a new babysitter that night, and Joanne was anxious to make sure everything was okay, they begged off; in reality they were both miffed at Wes’s behavior, and were both ready to leave. Roy and Joanne finally left at eleven o’clock, leaving Wesley and Doreen to enjoy the restaurant. Instead of doing so, however, Wesley insisted they leave, his mood spoiled by the fact that Roy had left, and that he and Roy had been denied of any time alone together.

Johnny let Heather drive home, as he was in some real pain by the time they left, and he felt exhausted. Heather made small talk on the way, asking him if he enjoyed his evening. He said that he did, but not very enthusiastically. Too tired to analyze her question further, he remained quiet the entire drive. As soon as he reached his home, he popped some pain medication in his mouth and crawled into bed.

Up early the next morning, Johnny climbed out of bed, leaving Heather to sleep. He made a pot of coffee and took a cup outside to sit on his deck. The sun had just come up, and was trying to burn off the misty fog swirling around the grounds and over the swimming pool. Johnny sat down on one of the deck chairs and looked out over his property. His house sat up high, and in the distance he could see the foothills of the mountains from where he sat. A beautiful purple mist hung over them. Taking a deep breath, he reveled in the early morning quiet, listening to the birds waking up. As he looked out toward the mountains, he felt restless, and felt drawn to them, as if they were calling out to him. It had seemed like a lifetime since he’d been out in nature, and John ached to pack up his camping equipment and go get lost in the wilderness. The more he thought about it, the more strongly he felt about it. Knowing Heather would probably turn down any request he might make for her to accompany him dampened his spirits, but he decided he would ask anyway. Maybe if he couldn’t get her to go camping, he could get her to go on a hike at least. It still bothered him quite a bit that she seemed to take no interest in the things that were important to him. It seemed like all the things she enjoyed required money, and lots of it.

Money. He’d certainly spent a lot of it last night. If someone had told him a year ago that he would have taken friends out to dinner and spent nearly six hundred dollars paying for their meals, he would have said they were insane. Last night he had charged that much to his credit card without batting an eye. Oh well, it was worth it….wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure. Roy and Joanne had certainly seemed to enjoy it, and they deserved a nice evening.

He had told Heather he’d had a good time, but he had done a lot of other things in his life that had cost nothing that he enjoyed a lot more. Maybe if it had just been Roy and Joanne it would have been more fun. But there was something about this Wesley character that he didn’t like, and he began to see what Chet was saying when he said he just couldn’t put his finger on it. There were some things he could put his finger on though; his temporary replacement was, at times, just plain rude, and it seemed – only to him.

As he sat sipping his coffee, he heard the patio doors slide open, and a moment later, Heather was pulling up a deck chair beside him, her own cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She was still in her nightgown, a very sexy and lacy long blue frock with spaghetti straps for sleeves. He could see through it enough to know that that was all she was wearing, but there were enough trees and space between houses that no one would see her. They could have walked out there naked, and no one would have noticed. That thought crossed Johnny’s mind as he took in how beautiful she looked, even in the morning. Her skin glowed in the pale morning light, and her soft lips looked so sensuous as she tipped the coffee cup to her mouth. She sensed his eyes on her and glanced over at him with a smile. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked. It was something she asked him almost every morning, at least all the ones where they had woken up together.

“I’m good,” he answered truthfully. A good night sleep had definitely refreshed him. Though she had distracted him from his thoughts, his mind was still on the previous evening somewhat. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I did. You?”

He nodded, trying to convince himself. “Yeah. It was all right.” He was silent a while, then asked her what she thought of Wesley.

Hesitant to elaborate on her real opinion of the man, that not only was he strange, but rude, she simply said that he seemed like an okay guy, but that she thought he was a little strange.

“Strange?”

“Yes. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s just something about him that strikes me as odd.”

“Odd, huh?”

She nodded. “I don’t know….just….well….I thought it was strange the way he kept looking at you last night.”

“And how was that?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Try me.”

She licked her lips. “Like…you were a piece of meat, and he was a hungry wolf.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“You heard me. I thought he was going to start salivating when he first saw you last night, and all through the evening he just had this weird expression on his face whenever he looked at you. There were times when he looked like he wanted to….I don’t know….tear you apart.”

Taken aback, Johnny stared at her in disbelief.

“Maybe you didn’t notice, but I was sitting almost directly across from him. The funny thing was, he looked at Roy like that a few times also.”

Johnny smiled nervously, simultaneously amused and unsettled by her analogy.

She caught his expression and smiled. “Oh, I know it sounds crazy. Just forget what I said. I’m sure it was just my imagination.” She was sure it wasn’t, but didn’t want to give John anything more to worry about than he already had.

Johnny settled back on to his chair, thinking. He took another sip of his coffee, then turned to her. “A piece of meat, huh?”

She smiled a small smile again. “Yeah.”

His face took on a devilish expression. “Speaking of meat, you in the mood for some sausage for breakfast?”

Raising her eyebrows, she licked her lips seductively. “That sounds rather good; but I only like very large sausages.”

“Oh, I think I can fill that order,” he said, leaning toward her to steal a coffee-flavored kiss.

“I have no doubt,” she murmured. He slipped his robe off his shoulders and reached over to scoop her up off the chair. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath and he picked her up and carried her over to the pool. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be lifting me up, you know.”

“Ssshh,” he quieted her. “I thought you might like your breakfast in the pool.”

“It might be a little cold, don’t you think?”

“Oh, it’ll be fine; it’s heated, remember? And once you’re in, I’ll make sure you get very, very hot.”

He carried her down the steps of the pool, her nightgown still on. The morning air was chilly, making the heated pool water actually feel warm. He lowered her down into the water, and her flimsy nightgown floated up around her waist, the rest clinging to her naked chest. Overcome, he kissed her lustily, and they enjoyed a very hot ‘breakfast’ in the pool.

Johnny had brought up the subject of camping later that morning, knowing that Heather was in a very good mood after their intense lovemaking session in the water. When they had finished, he had carried her inside to a warm shower, washed her hair for her, gave her a wonderful massage (to repay all the ones she had given him in the hospital), made love to her again in bed, then had prepared her a ‘real’ breakfast, which turned out to me more of a brunch. Just when he thought the time was perfect to suggest they get away in the woods together, it took her less than a minute to shoot down his idea, saying that he wasn’t well enough yet to go ‘traipsing through the woods’, and take the chance of messing up all the weeks of physical therapy he’d gone through to get better. “What if you fall and hurt yourself before you’ve completely healed?” she had asked. She also commented that she wasn’t yet ready for another bout of poison ivy either. When he pressed her for reassurance that she would go another time soon, all she would say was that she would think about it. After that, he’d remained silent, knowing it was useless to argue with her. She wasn’t going to go, and he knew it. Angry and disappointed, he was glad to get out of the house at noon and go to physical therapy. Not wanting to go home right away, he drove to the station to visit the guys.

Surreptitiously, he tried to watch Wesley for his reaction to his visit, and he was shocked to see that Heather was right. For a fleeting moment, John noticed that Adams gave him the look that she had described, ‘like you were a piece of meat, and that he’d like to tear you apart’. Roy seemed oblivious to it.

They had all sat around the table, drinking coffee, and it raised his spirits to chat about work – and – be included in the conversation as if he were still a part of the crew. Just being back and sitting around the station with the guys was surprisingly uplifting. Captain Stanley filled John in on some new drills they were doing, and mentioned an upcoming event that he hoped John would be able to attend. In three weeks the annual ‘Fireman’s spaghetti dinner cook-off’ would take place, a fun fund-raiser that was held once a year. Having forgotten all about it, Johnny was enthusiastic about attending, promising he and Heather would be there. He suggested that Mike Stoker be the one to enter his spaghetti recipe from their station, sure it would win first prize, and everyone agreed. Johnny then reminded everyone of the time that Joanne had fixed Roy a spaghetti dinner, and they had gotten into a big argument when Roy had commented to her about how good Mike Stoker’s spaghetti was. Johnny then proudly explained how he had taken it upon himself to call Joanne and give her Mike’s recipe. When she actually tried it and found out how good it was, the argument between Roy and Joanne was resolved. Johnny sat with a smug smile on his face while Roy rolled his eyes, but then backed up what Johnny said with a sheepish smile. “It’s true; Joanne really did like Mike’s recipe better than her own. That’s the only one she uses now.”

“Johnny, maybe you should have been a marriage counselor instead of a fireman,” Chet quipped jokingly.

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Roy said wryly.

“It would have been a lot safer,” Marco joked.

Johnny ‘hmphed’ at Marco’s comment, then looked up at Roy with his head bent downward, lifting his finger to point at Roy. “I knew all she had to do was try that recipe. It’s a good thing you confided in me, otherwise, you guys might have still been mad at each other.”

Roy turned to Wesley. “He thinks he knows my wife better than I do.”

“Well,” Johnny said, “she didn’t know that peas were your favorite vegetable, and I did.”

Roy crinkled up his brow and looked at Johnny like he was from outer space. “Huh?” He used one of Johnny’s favorite expressions.

Before Johnny got a chance to elaborate, Chet broke in. “Speaking of marriage, Gage, when is yours gonna be?”

Now it was Johnny’s turn. “Huh?”

“Your wedding, John. You know, you and Heather? When are you two gonna get married?”

Johnny looked around as if there was another person in the room who had a girlfriend named Heather. He turned back to Chet. “Kelly, I thought I told you not to say the ‘M’ word around me.”

“Guess that answers that,” Cap snickered.

“You guys have been dating quite awhile now,” Marco said. “Haven’t you thought about it?”

Johnny looked like a deer caught in headlights. All eyes were on him. “Well….sure, um, I guess…yeah, maybe…I don’t know.” He looked around at all of them. “I just don’t want to rush into things, you know? What’s the big hurry?”

“You almost married Valerie and you only knew her three days,” Roy smirked.

“Man, you are never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

“He’s still got her picture on his locker door behind his Smoky poster,” Roy teased to Wesley.

Johnny’s mouth dropped open. “How – how do you know that?”

“It fell out one day on the floor. I put it back. Right behind Heather’s picture,” Roy laughed.

Johnny was flustered, his face turning red. “Well, you can count on one thing. I’m not gonna date her for twelve years before I ask her to marry me!”

“Twelve years?” Chet asked. “Who dated someone twelve years before they got married?”

“Roy,” he said with a smug smile, glad to be directing the focus of the conversation to his partner and away from himself.

“Roy, you dated Joanne for twelve years before you got married?” Cap was incredulous.

“Yep. He did,” John answered. “Well, they met in fourth grade. They didn’t start dating really until high school.”

Cap looked at John. “Is there anything you guys don’t know about each other?”

John shrugged. “Not much.”

Roy said under his breath, “Maybe too much for our own good.”

John knew he was joking, but acted indignant anyway, coming back with, “Well, what’s that supposed to mean?”

That led to a long, drawn out repartee between the two of them that everyone in the station joined in on, except Wesley. By the time they were done, the conversation had become very animated, and everyone was laughing. Captain Stanley realized that a lot of the liveliness around the station had been missing since John had been out; it was like a piece of a puzzle had been missing. It felt good to have him around again.

No one noticed when Wesley got up from the table and left to pour himself a cup of coffee. He remained leaning against the kitchen counter and watched as the scene unfolded around him. He thought his blood would boil as the anger and humiliation built inside him. He could hardly stand to listen as the other six men conversed with Johnny; an obvious long-time and affectionate comradery existed between them that he felt no part of. Just as he was thinking that he would like to go up to John Gage and cut his throat out with a knife, Gage looked up, and his eyes locked with the man. The expression on Wesley’s face caused Johnny to pause abruptly, so startled at seeing the venom on the man’s face that he stumbled over his words. But the expression had changed the second it appeared, or rather, the second it was noticed, leaving John to second guess his own intuitions, wondering if he had imagined it. The uneasiness passed quickly, and Wesley came back over to join the others at the table, laughing very convincingly at the conversation.

                                                ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the next few weeks, John and Roy were able to get together only once. It seemed like every time Johnny called, Roy had already made plans to do something with Wesley, or Wesley was there. Johnny found out that Adams had been helping Roy with projects around his house, as he himself often did, but had not been able to do for some time. Johnny didn’t know that many times Wesley would just stop by the DeSoto’s house and offer to help Roy, and the two of them would end up spending the day together. It got to be so Wesley was spending more time at the DeSoto house than his own.

Roy enjoyed his company, but had begun to feel it was a bit suffocating. It was nice to have a friend that shared so many of your own interests, yet Roy was a bit baffled at why Wesley wanted to spend so much time with him. Joanne didn’t seem to mind; Wesley often offered to help her with things as well, and she enjoyed her time with Doreen. They seemed like the perfect friends; their husbands had the same careers, they both had children the same age, and they both seemed to like to do the same things. But like Roy, as the weeks turned into months, she sometimes felt a little overwhelmed with Doreen’s attentions as well. The woman called her nearly every day.

                                                ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Missing the firefighting scene, Johnny was really looking forward to the spaghetti dinner, knowing he would get the chance to see Roy and his station-mates, plus a lot of other friends he hadn’t seen in a long time. Heather’s manner was subdued, but she didn’t seem to mind accompanying him to the event.

John and Heather arrived shortly after the party had begun, entering a large noisy room full of firefighters and their spouses. Red and white checked tablecloths adorned long tables that were set up with bowls of spaghetti, bread, and salad. A bar with beer and wine was also available. At the far end of the room was another long table holding samples of all the spaghetti recipes. Judges were busy sampling the pastas, and later, would announce the winners.  

After getting some drinks, John led Heather over to a long table where some of the members from his station were sitting. They managed to eat their fill of spaghetti, and mingle with quite a few people throughout the evening. The conversations got livelier as the party progressed, and quantities of beer and wine were consumed.

            They spent some time with Chet and his date, Cindy, getting to know the girl that the Phantom had begun dating recently, and seemed crazy about. She was a cute, spunky girl, about five foot four, with soft wavy brown hair and sparkly bright blue eyes. They were having an animated conversation, and Johnny decided that he really liked the girl, and that Chester had made a good choice. Johnny grinned when he noticed how Kelly’s eyes seemed to light up every time he looked at Cindy, and thought that maybe Chet had met “the one”. Sitting with them was Marco and his date, Christina, Roy and Joanne, Wesley and Doreen, and Charlie Dwyer and his wife, Joyce. Wesley was once again trying to engage Roy in a private conversation, while Doreen worked on occupying Joanne.

            Johnny felt a hand on his shoulder from behind, and turned to see an old friend from station eight he had worked with years ago standing behind him. Steve Winslow was standing with another man, who he introduced as Mark Johnson. Johnny greeted them enthusiastically, introducing them to Heather as he did so.

            “Pull up a chair, guys,” Johnny gestured to two empty seats at the table behind them, and they dragged them over and sat down. Johnny then introduced them to everyone at the table.

            “Steve and I used to work together at eights,” he explained. Steve knew Roy already, and some of the others they were sitting with.

            “How many lives ago was that, Johnny?” Steve asked smiling.

            Johnny grimaced a smile self-consciously and muttered, “A few.”

            Steve turned to Mark and said, his hand on John’s shoulder, “We call Gage ‘the cat’ because he has nine lives. Or actually, it’s probably closer to fifteen or twenty by now,” he teased.

            Johnny laughed it off self-consciously, and before he could respond, Mark said, “Oh, you’re….John Gage,” he emphasized the word ‘Gage’; “I’ve heard a lot about you!”

            “Oh, really?” John asked, smiling. “I’m sure it’s all been good, right?”

“Actually, your narrow escapes from death are legendary around the station!” Mark was young, and he gushed like he was Johnny’s biggest fan. Johnny’s bright smile faded somewhat as he tried to keep it glued on.

            Johnny glanced at Heather to see her eyebrows raised. “Well, you know how people tend to exaggerate – ”

            “From what I’ve heard, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

            Johnny took a deep pull from his beer and glanced over at Chet. “Just lucky, I guess.”

            “He’s either lucky or he’s got some great spirit up there looking out for him,” Steve commented, familiar with Johnny’s Indian background.

            “Well, we all have our days. Fortunately,” Johnny looked over at Roy. “my partner here has helped me out of some rough situations a time or two.” Johnny tried to divert the conversation away from himself and onto Roy.

“That goes both ways, Junior,” Roy acknowledged Johnny’s statement with a tip of his beer toward the younger paramedic.

Wesley’s throat tightened at John’s mention of the word ‘partner’ when referring to Roy, and Roy’s affectionate use of the word ‘Junior’ as he referred to Johnny. He had an overwhelming urge to grab Roy’s beer bottle and shove it down Gage’s throat.

            “Well, Roy wasn’t around the time you were bitten by that rattlesnake,” Chet mentioned, rather smugly, as if waiting for some recognition.

            Johnny glanced at Heather again and saw the surprise on her face. He had never told her anything about his run-in with the snake, and now that the cat was out of the bag, there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Oh, what the hell, he thought. I can’t hide things from her forever. She’s gonna hear about this sooner or later.  “No, you’re right,” he responded, looking around at everyone. “That time good ole Chester B. came to my rescue.”

            Cindy looked adoringly up at Chet and asked, “What did you do?”

            Before Johnny could open his mouth again, Chet proceeded to tell her in precise detail how, after being bitten by the snake down in the brush, they had taken Johnny to the hospital on the back of the engine, while he had worked on Johnny’s leg and kept Rampart informed of his vitals. Johnny listened quietly while Chet described how Johnny had treated himself by starting his own IV, wondering if Heather would be impressed. To Johnny’s horror, Chet thought it would be amusing to fill everyone in on how, just before Johnny lost consciousness, he managed to puke his guts out in the back of the engine.

            “Well, you’ve had your moments too, Chet,” was all Johnny could think of to say.

Just when Johnny was trying to think up some embarrassing event about Kelly to tell everyone, Chet continued, “Johnny, you’ve got me beat by a mile and you know it. Poor Roy here, he’s had years taken off his lifetime because of Gage.”

Everyone looked at Roy for a response, and he simply said with a smile, “Well, working with Johnny has definitely been an adventure. He always keeps things interesting.” Roy glanced at Heather, trying to read her expression, but couldn’t. She seemed impassive, but when he scrutinized her, it appeared she was working hard at not showing any reaction. She looked a little stiff, and Roy wondered if Johnny had still not told her about his past brushes with death, and if he hadn’t, how she was going to react when she found out about them. 

“Yeah, I bet Roy’s blood pressure is a little higher now than when he first started at 51’s,” Marco chimed in, not wanting to be left out of the teasing. He didn’t worry that Johnny would take offense; usually the dark-haired paramedic was very good-natured about being teased, and was usually able to dish it back out just as strongly.

            “Is that when you started losing your hair Roy – after you started workin’ with Johnny?” Chet asked.

            “Very funny,” Johnny sulked.

            Roy subconsciously touched the top of his head in embarrassment. “Hey, leave my hair out of this.”

            Chet looked around, reminiscing. “Remember that time Johnny fell off the bridge with that epileptic kid? I think that gave Roy a whole set of gray hairs.”

            “Fell off a….bridge?” Heather nearly whispered.

            Johnny put his arm around Heather. “I didn’t exactly…fall – ”

            “Oh, man, you should have seen it!” Chet exclaimed. “They were up about two hundred feet on the underside of this bridge.” Chet gestured with his arms to show how high up they were, his beer bottle dangling from one hand. “This kid had climbed out there; he couldn’t get down, and they had to rescue him.” Chet went into a dramatic description of how Roy and John had climbed up the support leg of the bridge, and Johnny had slowly inched his way out to the middle of the concrete ledge under the bridge to rescue the kid. Just when he’d reached him, the boy went into a seizure. “Gage and the kid fell off the bridge together. I wish I could have filmed it, Johnny. You and the kid were swinging around like you were on a trapeze; I thought for sure you guys were gonna fall – or at least the kid. I still don’t know how you hung on, Johnny. But Roy saved the day; he held on to ‘em with Johnny’s line and lowered them both to the ground.”

            “I thought my arms were gonna come out of their sockets,” Roy commented dourly.

            “I remember that,” Joanne said. “You were sore for days.”

            “Wow,” Mark commented. “What are some of the other things that have happened?”

            Johnny gave Mark a look that said to ‘put a sock in it’, but the young man was oblivious.

“Well, that’s not the first time Johnny’s hung off the side of a building,” Marco reminded everyone. “You remember when he fell off that scaffold?”

“Oh, yeah,” Roy nodded thoughtfully, forgetting about Heather’s reactions for a moment, and recalling the memory. “That time really scared me.” He glanced over at Johnny. “If you hadn’t had your safety belt clipped to that scaffold before you passed out…” He saw Johnny shake his head minutely, and stopped. But the damage was already done. Heather was listening intently, her eyes wide, her mouth set in a grim line.

“What happened that time?” Cindy asked.

Roy hesitated, and Chet was only too glad to fill everyone in. “He was sick and he didn’t know it. He contracted this killer virus from this monkey. See, they had a call to a woman’s house a few days before; she was really sick; turns out her pet monkey was carrying some kind of deadly virus, and Johnny caught it too. He rappelled down the side of this fifteen story building to get to this heart attack patient stuck on a scaffold, and then passed out.” He looked at Johnny. “Man, when I saw you roll off that scaffold, I thought we were gonna have to scrape your body off the pavement below.” He looked at Cindy. “Like Roy said, luckily, he had his belt clipped to the scaffold.”

“Well, I remember you almost died,” Marco said, looking at Johnny. Glancing out toward the others, he said, “They finally found a cure for the virus.”

“Yeah, but not before Tim Duntley died,” Charlie said.

“I remember Tim,” Steve said. “He was a good guy.”

“Yeah. He was,” Roy said somberly, remembering all too well that his best friend had nearly joined the man in going to his grave. Another day without a cure….

Everyone was quiet for a moment, then Chet said, “Let’s see; how many other times did Gage almost bite it?”

“Chet, I think that’s enough –” Johnny started.

“Aw, c’mon Gage; this is fun; and you have so many stories to tell. Man, they ought to make a movie out of your life. Remember when you almost fell off that tower that time you and Roy climbed up to rescue someone, and it turned out to be a dummy? Remember, your foot slipped, and I had to come up and rescue you?”

Johnny grimaced at Chet. “You didn’t rescue me,” he groused.

“I had to help you climb down. Man, that was another time I thought you were gonna fall. You guys shoulda seen him, hangin’ over the edge with his arms and legs dangling, about a hundred and fifty feet off the ground.” Chet wiggled his fingers around mimicking the way Johnny’s arms and legs had dangled.

“Hey, don’t forget that time Channing saved him when the railing broke on that one rescue.” Marco offered.

“Channing?” Steve asked?

“Yeah, Jason Channing. He was a fireman from England, visiting. Gage was leaning over a metal railing at this factory, trying to pull up a stokes, and the railing broke loose. He fell over the side and was barely hanging on. He would have bought it that day too, if Channing hadn’t grabbed him and pulled him back up.”

Johnny sat quietly now, feeling like he wanted to crawl under a rock, as everyone seemed to remember some rescue about him where he’d almost gotten killed. He knew he would be in the doghouse big time with Heather now; this would give her an arsenal of ammunition to use against him in her agenda to get him to quit his job. It certainly offered some colorful conversation, but unfortunately at his expense.

“Remember that suicide victim up on that crane? That guy almost pulled Gage off of there when he fell.”

“He had his safety belt on, Chet,” Roy said in John’s defense. “There was no danger of anything happening.”

“Johnny, I think I’ve seen you in the hospital over the last few years more times than I’ve seen you at the station.” Charlie joined in. “The time I remember most was a couple years ago when you were in that building that blew up when there was that gas leak.”

“I remember that now,” Steve commented. “That was the day of Dixie’s birthday party. We all stopped by to see you after it was over. It’s too bad you missed it; you would have enjoyed the dancing.”

Roy smiled at the memory of Johnny sitting in the squad, his shirt pocket bulging with cassette tapes for the party.

“Oh man!” Chet exclaimed. “I’ll never forget that. That entire building exploded in a huge fireball, and Gage was inside when it happened. I remember me and Roy had barely made it out of the building. We were carrying this little old lady on a stretcher and we’d just gotten outside when the window exploded almost right over our heads.”

Cindy was staring wide-eyed at Johnny. “What happened? Were you hurt?”

Johnny opened his mouth to answer, but Chet interrupted with, “He fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg, and cut his face up, but that was all. I remember going back in with Roy to find him. Man, it was a miracle you didn’t burn up in that one, Gage.”

Johnny’s eyes had dropped to stare at the table, lost momentarily in that memory while Chet rattled on. He knew he would never forget the feeling he’d had right before that building blew, and for a moment, the voices around him faded, and he was back there, checking the rooms, knowing there was going to be an explosion any second. Suddenly an intense sense of urgency had come over him, and he had begun to run, a sick feeling churning in the pit of his stomach that he wasn’t going to get out in time. And then it happened. He had just reached the top of the stairs when he felt an intense pressure and saw a blinding flash of white, and then a great blast of hot air propelled him backward into the wall, lifting his body slightly off the floor. Then there was another explosion; it threw him forward, and he saw stars as his head was slammed against the opposite wall. Another huge blast then forced his limp body backward against the wall again, and as he struggled to gain his balance, his foot slipped off the top stair, and he felt as if the floor beneath him had been pulled away, sending him crashing downward. Johnny cringed inwardly as he recalled falling, then being at the bottom of the stairs, his body battered and bruised from the tumble, the pain from the fall overcoming him so severely that he could barely breathe. Then the terror of opening his eyes and seeing the flames surrounding him, while the acrid smoke burned his throat. He had lain there, unable to move, knowing they would eventually find him, but wondering if the flames would burn him to death before that happened. His last thought had been that he hoped the smoke would choke him into unconsciousness before that happened. And it had.

Chet was rambling on, having become more and more animated in his description, a result of having consumed a few too many adult beverages. “….and then we finally found him at the bottom of the stairs. I helped Roy carry him out ‘cause he was out of it, and man, I tell you, one more minute and Gage would have been barbecued…”

Johnny looked up at Chet; a kind of sick expression had come over his face. He had worked hard to put that unfortunate event away in the far recesses of his mind, forgetting about it, and now here was Chet describing it in great detail for everyone….

“….and I though Roy was gonna puke when he took a look at Gage’s broken leg with the bone stickin’ out – ” Chet was really going over the top now; even his girlfriend Cindy was nudging him, throwing him glances to cut it out. But he kept on, knowing he had everyone’s attention, loving being the one to tell a good story, oblivious to the discomfort he was causing.

At that point, both John and Heather looked sick; Heather had moved closer to Johnny and laid her hand protectively on his forearm. All at once, everyone realized they’d gone too far, and an uncomfortable silence spread across the group. Chet kept on, enjoying immensely being the center of attention, at Gage’s expense.

Roy saw their expressions and nudged Chet. “Hey Kelly, why don’t you spare us the gory details?”

 Chet looked up at Roy, then at the others, a little crestfallen. “Huh? Oh…sorry.”

 Quietly, Steve added one last anecdote. “Then, last year you were hit by that car.  Boy, Johnny, you’ve really been through it with this job, haven’t you?” The joking had stopped, and the stark reality of it all finally took hold.

Johnny took a deep breath and shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. He didn’t know what to say, other than, ‘would you please all shut the hell up because I don’t wanna talk about this right now’. Instead, he muttered, “Well, I guess I’ve had my share of excitement.” He shifted in his chair uncomfortably as he felt everyone’s eyes on him.

“Excitement?” Cindy said, incredulous. “Your ‘excitement’ sounds rather painful to me.”

“You know, I can’t believe it’s happened to you again,” Steve said sympathetically. Johnny’s former work-mate looked over at Mark and explained, “He took a bullet during a drug bust on a run a few months ago.”

“Wow,” Mark said, awestruck. “You must be invincible or something.”

“I’m okay….it wasn’t that big a deal – ”

            Roy was heard choking on his beer as he almost spit it out.

            “Not a big deal?!” Steve said. “I saw you in the hospital, pal. You almost died.”

            “Well – ”

            Wanting to lighten the conversation a bit, Charlie broke in. “Guys,” he gestured with his arm out toward Johnny, “You’re looking at the six million dollar man, here. At least, that’s probably what the department has to pay to keep up with health insurance costs on him,” he chuckled. Charlie, too, had consumed a few too many beers. This time, both Roy and Steve glanced at him disapprovingly, although Chet laughed along with him. Charlie saw the rather sour look on their faces and patted Johnny affectionately on the shoulder a few times. “Ah, Gage knows I’m just kiddin’, don’t you Johnny?”

            “Right,” Johnny mumbled, not hearing Wesley’s next statement.

            “Sounds like he’s more of a liability than an asset to me,” Wesley commented quietly to Joanne and Doreen. Heather had heard it too though, and Joanne was shocked at his statement. Her eyes went wide with offense, and she glared at Wesley for a moment before looking away.

            At this point, Heather had heard enough, and she quietly excused herself and got up, heading toward the rest room. She was angry, and upset, and wanted to get away before her feelings showed. All this talk about John’s near death experiences infuriated her. It was bad enough that he had kept all this from her, but it made it even worse that they were making fun of all the times he’d almost died in such a nonchalant way.

            Johnny knew the guys were just teasing him good-naturedly, but Heather’s expression made him want to melt into the floor. He felt like telling them all to shut up, but instead remained mute, pretending that none of it bothered him.

            “Well, Gage certainly gives Roy lots of extra chances to practice his paramedic skills. Johnny, have you ever thought of volunteering to be the practice dummy?” Chet asked facetiously.

            Johnny pretended to laugh. “Ha-ha. Chester, you do such a good job at being the station dummy already; I wouldn’t want to take that title away from you.”

            Joanne chimed in and said, “Well, I, for one, think that Johnny is quite an asset to station 51.” She glanced over at Wesley. “Roy might not be here either if it hadn’t been for Johnny. And the same for some of you others for that matter.” She sounded a little defensive, and she looked at Roy, expecting him to back her up.”

            Johnny looked at Joanne gratefully and smiled, wishing Heather had been there to hear her comment.

“You’re right, honey. Just a few months ago, Johnny ran back in and pulled me out of that burning warehouse when I got dizzy. The whole ceiling collapsed right after we got out of there. I never did thank you for that, Johnny.” Roy looked over at Johnny with sincerity.

            Johnny looked down self-consciously and grinned crookedly. “Guess I had to pay you back for all the times you’ve saved my ass.” He looked up apologetically at Joanne for cursing; the few beers he’d had diluted his manners slightly. Joanne just smiled and waved it off.

             Steve looked at Johnny seriously. “Well, for everything that’s happened, you sure look good, Johnny. You doin’ okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m doin’ great – ”

            “When you comin’ back to work?”

Johnny happened to glance at Wesley, and was taken aback by his fleeting, but ominous expression. “Well, I probably have just a few weeks of PT left, then as soon as Early clears me, I’ll be back.”

“All right, that’s great, man. So, Roy, this the guy you been riding with while Gage has been out?” Steve gestured at Wesley.

Roy glanced at Wesley. “Yep.”

Steve smiled and looked around the room briefly. “Ah, you weren’t lucky enough to get Brice again this time, eh?”

Roy smiled. “Nope, not that lucky.”

The conversation turned to focus on Adams, his background, and talk of where he would go after Johnny came back. Johnny was glad to take the focus away from himself finally, but began to feel very uncomfortable as Wesley and Roy fell into a conversation about how much they had enjoyed working together, followed by a rundown on some of the more interesting rescues they had been on. One particularly hazardous water rescue had Roy bragging about Wesley’s swimming abilities, another trait they had in common, and Johnny again hung back and quietly observed the seemingly familiar comradery and friendship that had developed between them. For some reason, it made him feel uncomfortable, especially when he noticed all the times Wesley touched Roy, putting his arm around him or patting his back as he talked. Johnny glanced at Chet for his reaction, but he was involved in a conversation with Cindy. His mind wandered slightly as he wondered when Heather would be back.

She had enclosed herself in the last stall of the restroom, her mind replaying everything she had just heard about John at the table. She had been shocked to find out about all his near misses with death, and it crossed her mind that she didn’t really know John all that well at all. What else did he keep from her, she wondered?

Her thoughts were interrupted by someone entering the bathroom, and she heard the stall door close as another woman entered. She waited quietly, not wanting to get into a conversation with some fireman’s wife or girlfriend, while the other person finished and left the stall to wash her hands.

The door opened and another person walked in. Heather recognized the voices immediately as Cindy and Doreen, and surreptitiously listened in on their conversation.

Doreen was rinsing the soap off her hands when she saw Cindy in the mirror behind her. She set her purse down on the counter and looked up.

“Hi,” Cindy offered congenially.

“Hi,” answered Doreen.

The two women hadn’t spoken to each other at the table. “It’s…Doreen, right?”

“Yes. And you’re Cindy.”

“Right,” Cindy said with a smile. “I have such a terrible memory for names. It’s so hard to remember everyone; I’ve met so many people tonight.”

“I know what you mean,” Doreen commiserated. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, yes. They’re such a great group of guys. Everyone I’ve met is so nice. You?”

“Yes, it’s really been fun. I just wish it didn’t have to end.”

Cindy’s brows furrowed at her. “End? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Doreen let out a big sigh, “it’s just that my husband Wesley has enjoyed being at Station 51 so much over the past few months; he’s really going to hate to leave.”

“Oh, I can imagine. He’s substituting for Johnny Gage, isn’t he?”

“Yes. Wesley has been Roy’s partner,” she said a little possessively.

“Roy seems like a nice guy. Has Wesley enjoyed working with him?”

“Oh, he just loves Roy. They’ve become close friends.”

“Really? That’s great.”

“Yes, they’ve really developed a wonderful friendship; they just do everything together these days; that’s why its’ going to be so hard for Wes to leave. And I’m sure Roy’s going to miss working with him. They really click well together, probably much better than Roy ever did with John Gage.”

“Really? I thought those two were good friends. I mean, Chet’s said their partnership is kind of famous throughout the department.”

“Well, you can’t believe everything you hear.”

“What do you mean?” Cindy asked naively.

Doreen looked around, then back at Cindy. “Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but I know for a fact that Roy doesn’t want to work with Johnny any more.”

Cindy’s eyes widened. “Really? Why not?”

Doreen shrugged. “He…just likes Wesley better. They have a lot more in common; I mean John Gage and Roy DeSoto are total opposites, in personality and otherwise. And you know, John is rich now – he won all that money in the lottery, and Roy think’s he’s gotten a little too big for his britches.”
            “Really? I don’t get that impression of him.”

“Oh, yes. He’s always flaunting his money around, acting like a big shot. And Roy thinks his little Barbie doll girlfriend is a snob. He and Joanne can hardly stand to spend time with him any more, especially since he’s been dating her.”

From inside her stall, Heather’s mouth hung open, while her eyes began to bulge, and it was all she could do to keep herself from storming out of the stall and giving Doreen a piece of her mind. Instead, she forced herself to hang back quietly, waiting to hear more.

“Really?” Heather heard Cindy ask uncertainly.

Doreen continued. “Roy’s older, you know, like Wesley, and he’s calm and level-headed compared to John, who’s kind of wild and immature. But….most importantly, Roy thinks Johnny is just too wreckless.”

Cindy stared at her in disbelief.

“Well,” Doreen said in defense, “you heard about all his catastrophic accidents, didn’t you? Roy is tired of picking up the pieces of John Gage. He feels like John’s a danger to himself and the other guys. Now, Roy is too nice to ever tell John that, but that’s the way he feels.”

“How do you know this?”

“He’s confided in Wesley.”

Cindy nodded slowly. “Huh. That’s too bad. Funny, Chet’s never mentioned that Roy felt that way about Johnny, and he’s always talking about the guys.”

Doreen tried not to sneer when Cindy mentioned Chet. She knew Wesley hated Chet almost as much as he hated John Gage, after the curly-haired man had played countless jokes on her husband. “Well, you two haven’t been dating that long, have you? He might not feel comfortable saying anything about it to you.”

“Well….we talk about – ”

“I doubt it’s something that Roy would tell Chet, since he knows that Chet and Johnny are good friends.”

“Well, you may have a point.”

Doreen nodded.

“Gee, I wonder what’s going to happen?”

Doreen shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose John will come back, and then my husband will get shuffled off to another station until he gets a permanent position – at least, until John Gage gets in another accident that either kills him, or kills one of the other men. Such a shame.” She shook her head.

Cindy looked uncomfortably at Doreen, her mind whirling from the woman’s implications that John Gage could be dangerous to work with. She really was beginning to like Chet a lot, and the thought of him working with someone who might endanger his life bothered her. She just couldn’t imagine that Doreen could be telling the entire truth. And the impression she’d gotten from meeting Johnny didn’t match Doreen’s description of him. It sounded like this woman and her husband had something against Johnny – the familiar signs of jealousy were too obvious to ignore. Feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Cindy simply nodded, then began to dig into her purse for her lipstick. Doreen threw her paper towel into the trash, and then cheerfully said good-bye and left.

Heather stood silently in the stall, reeling from the conversation she’s just heard. Enraged at what that Doreen woman had said about John and herself, she concentrated on remaining calm, forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, which didn’t seem to alleviate her rage. Feeling claustrophobic in the stall, she decided that she needed to get out of there. She’d had about enough of this evening. Between finding out about John’s history of serious injuries as a firefighter, hearing how all the men teased him about it as if it were just a big joke, and now discovering the obvious betrayal of his closest friend, peppered with insults, she wanted nothing more than to get the heck out of there. She was not only angry for herself, but angry for John as well.

Heather threw the lock back on the stall and burst out, thinking she was alone, and stopped in her tracks when she saw Cindy standing at the counter. Heather’s apoplectic face appeared in the mirror behind Cindy’s, and the wavy-haired woman’s blue eyes went wide, producing a startled expression on her face. Heather stared at her a moment, trying to discern her thoughts, and read a profound sorrow in her eyes before she bent to wash her hands.

Heather looked up at her a moment later, and almost felt sorry for her.

Finally, Cindy made the first attempt to speak. “I’m truly sorry you had to hear that,” she almost whispered, knowing exactly who Heather was. Heather was a hard person to miss in a crowd, her extreme beauty always stood out, and Chet had spoken of her and Johnny’s relationship several times to Cindy.

Heather’s face softened. She didn’t blame Cindy; Cindy hadn’t been the one doing the insulting, she’d merely been the unfortunate recipient of Doreen’s hateful comments. “I am too,” she responded softly.

Cindy turned to Heather. “You should know; Chet always speaks very highly of Johnny.”

Heather nodded, and turned away, drying her hands.

“Heather….you…you won’t tell Johnny what she said, will you?”

Heather threw her towel in the trash, and stared at her own reflection in the mirror. After a long silence, she said, “I’m sure it would hurt John deeply if he knew what was said about him, and I don’t want to do that.” Then she turned to face Cindy. “But, if it were you, wouldn’t you want to know what your best friend really thought of you?”

Cindy couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, she swallowed, and watched as Heather left the room.

Johnny noticed Heather’s pained expression as soon as she returned to the table. Concerned, he leaned toward her, speaking quietly. “Is something wrong?”

She looked up at him, and her heart melted at the sight of his deep, expressive brown eyes, and his handsome face. She had been so angry at him for keeping her in the dark about all his accidents, but now she felt such sorrow for him, that the earlier feelings of anger suddenly faded away. Heather could handle the scathing insults against herself; oddly enough, being strikingly beautiful meant that she’d been the recipient of many a jealous woman’s comments most of her life. While it hurt, she’d learned to ignore their ignorance and prejudging. She brought her hand to his face, feeling so badly at what she had just heard, wanting to protect him. “No, love,” she looked affectionately into his face, “I just have…a bit of a headache.”

“Did you drink too much wine?”

“No. But I would like to go home. If it’s all right with you.”

He scrutinized her a moment, sensing there was something more. He concluded that she must be upset about their prior conversation before she’s left for the bathroom. Realizing he was tired himself, he nodded and said, “Okay; let’s go.” He really wasn’t having a very good time anyway, much to his disappointment.

The two stood up, and made their good-byes quickly. Roy looked up curiously, wondering why they were leaving so suddenly. He wondered if Johnny was feeling all right. He stood up as well, and took a step toward them as they were leaving. Roy reached out and touched Johnny on the arm, causing John to turn toward him, his face questioning.

“You okay?” he asked.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay. Heather’s got a headache, so we’re going to call it a night.”

Roy noticed that Heather refused to look at him, her face seemed tight with emotion, he just wasn’t sure he could read what emotion it was. Roy blew it off, figuring she was upset about the earlier conversation. “Hey, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I guess it’ll just be a few more weeks, and we’ll be riding together again,” Roy smiled widely. His smile faded some when he noticed Heather glare at him.

John returned the smile. “Yep. Lookin’ forward to it. See ya, Pally.”

“Right, Junior.” Roy patted him on the shoulder and watched them leave.

Johnny and Heather were quiet on the drive home, both lost in their own thoughts. Johnny wondered if Heather really had a headache, or if she was upset after hearing about all his serious accidents. Not in the mood for an argument, he didn’t press the issue, and drove home in silence.

Heather’s thoughts had been occupied by the conversation she’d overheard in the bathroom. She wondered if any of it were true, and decided it must be; why else would that woman have said all those things? It seemed to add up; John had mentioned how much time Roy and Wesley were spending together. And they sure looked like they were close friends tonight. She knew that sometimes when John had called Roy lately, he had been brushed off, and that a few times he’d called the station and Roy never called him back. While Roy had seemed pretty friendly to John tonight, it was obvious that he and Adams were tight too. And with all the talk of John’s accidents, it seemed rational to think that maybe Roy wasn’t anxious to work with John any more. She sighed inwardly. She wished she could use this information to persuade him not to return to work, but it would hurt him too badly. But should he go on assuming that Roy was his best friend, when behind his back he was saying cruel things about him? Struggling with it, she decided that she shouldn’t say anything to John about what she’d heard tonight, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still going to try to persuade him to quit his job.

Johnny wasn’t all the surprised that night when Heather decided to drive home and not spend the night, leaving him alone, using the excuse that she had an early appointment in the morning that she wanted to be fresh for. He figured she was probably upset with him after learning that he hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about his past. He spent a restless night, wondering if her discovery would make a difference in their relationship.

A week went by, and nothing more was said of the evening. Johnny thought either she just didn’t care, or else she had forgotten about it, and he figured it was probably the latter, since she never seemed too interested in his job anyway. Even though he really didn’t want the confrontation, it still bothered him that she just didn’t seem to hold any interest in his career, something that was such a huge part of who he was.

On Friday night, Heather and Johnny made plans to go to dinner and see a movie. He had physical therapy until three o’clock that day, and had plans to meet Heather at his house at four o’clock. During his drive home that afternoon, Johnny realized that he really felt good, and it made him smile. In the beginning of his convalescence, Johnny felt fatigued and sore after his sessions with Joe, but lately, the exercises had made him feel energized, and the pain he’d felt for so long seemed to have faded away. He was in a good mood when he pulled his Corvette into the garage; the thought of seeing Heather made him feel a little frisky. He hoped she was in the mood. Apparently, she was on the same wavelength, because when he walked in, she was dressed in a skimpy red silk teddy, and had filled the hot tub with a bubble bath for him, in anticipation of a little pre-dinner activity.

His mouth dropped open in surprise as she wordlessly handed him an ice-cold martini with large stuffed olives the moment he walked in, then led him over to the sofa. Even though it wasn’t a cold day, she had a fire burning in the fireplace. They sat enjoying their drinks, taking turns feeding each other the olives. Ten minutes later, the drinks were gone, and he could hold back no longer. Laying her down, he climbed on top of her and ravenously planted kisses all over her body, slowly unbuttoning each tiny button on the front of her teddy until it was off. His clothes were next, and they forgot about the bubble bath as they consumed each other, rolling off the couch and onto the floor in front of the fireplace. Neither heard the phone ring as their pleasure for each other became more vocal.

The phone rang again later, and this time they heard it, but they were in the bubble bath, enjoying another martini. Heather lay with her head resting against Johnny’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Both were content and satisfied. Regardless of the doubts Johnny sometimes had about their relationship, these were the times that he enjoyed the most. The closeness they shared and the intimacy was deeper than any he’d had with any other woman. Heather was a sexual adventurer; it seemed like each time they made love was better than the last. He sometimes thought he was addicted to her, and wondered if her desire for sex would ever wane. He also wondered what would happen if it did. Would they be happy growing old together? Did they have enough together outside of the sex to make that happen?

They got out of the tub, and were toweling off when the phone rang again.

“Better get it this time,” Johnny said, and walked toward the telephone in his bedroom.  Picking it up on the fourth ring, he said, “Hello?”

“Hey, Johnny; it’s Roy,” came the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Roy!” John answered enthusiastically.

“You just get home?”

“Huh? No, we were here.”

Roy’s voice sounded a little disappointed. “Oh, Heather’s with you?”

“Yeah. Oh, was that you trying to call earlier?”

“Yeah; that was me. Where were ya?”

“Oh. Well, we were….we couldn’t get to the phone.” Trying to cover up their earlier activity, he quickly added, “ah, we were outside.”

“Oh.” Right.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, well, I was just gonna see if you wanted to come over tonight and have a beer. You know, just catch up on things.”

Johnny hadn’t seen Roy in a while, and it sounded very appealing. Then, he looked toward the bathroom and saw Heather standing there, naked, drying her hair. Watching her breasts move up and down as her arms moved with the brush and hair dryer made him grow aroused, and he had the urge to move up behind her, hold one in each hand, and slide back into her. He closed his eyes a moment as he imagined that sensation. He’d be able to watch her face in the mirror as she climaxed…Roy’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Johnny?”

He shook his head, and tore his eyes away from the bathroom, forcing himself to concentrate on the conversation. God, I am addicted to her! He looked down at himself. Down, boy, he admonished a certain body part. He thought further about Roy’s offer, and felt disappointed that he already had plans. “Yeah. Sorry. Ah, that really sounds great, Roy. But Heather and I made plans to go to dinner and a movie.”

“Oh.” Roy sensed Johnny’s heart wasn’t in the conversation.

“Hey, you want to join us?” Johnny asked suddenly.

“Ah, no, we can’t. Joanne’s already working on making dinner, and we don’t have a sitter for the kids anyway.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Maybe tomorrow, huh?”

“I gotta work tomorrow.”

“Oh. Only one day off this time, eh?”

“Yeah. One on, two off, one on, then one off, then on again. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Johnny said whimsically.

Roy heard the tone in his voice. “How many more days until you come back?” he asked hopefully. By now, he was anxious for Johnny to come back. Wesley was beginning to make him feel more and more uncomfortable. He missed Johnny; the differences between them were complimentary, where with Wesley, it was beginning to feel like he was working with a clone. Wesley imitated Roy to a point of being annoying, and his stopping by constantly was getting irritating. He always wanted to do everything Roy did. It was hard to be annoyed with the man though; he tried so hard to be a good friend.

“Hey, funny you should ask. I went to PT today. I’ve got less than two weeks and I’m done. Then all I gotta do is get cleared by Early.”

Roy was relieved, but didn’t want Johnny to know that he was getting sick of Adams. “You better talk to the Cap and let him know.”

“Yeah. I’ll have to do that. I’ve got to get a definite date and then I will.”

“Well,” Roy decided to end the conversation, not sure if he was interrupting anything. “I’ll let you go. Give me a call sometime.”

“Okay; I will. Talk to you later.”

They said their good-byes, and Johnny hung up the phone. Looking up, he saw Heather’s silhouette standing still in the doorway, staring at him. The light was on behind her, but the bedroom was fairly dark. He couldn’t quite get a read on her expression, but she looked…almost…sad. His eyes lingered on her a moment, then it became unnerving when she didn’t speak. “What?” he finally asked.

She shook her head slowly.

“What is it,” he asked, slightly irritably, thinking she now looked slightly annoyed. He stood up to get dressed.

She sighed. “I guess you’ve decided to go back to work.”

“Listening in?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly talking softly.”

Now he sighed, and finally answered. “What if I am?

She folded her arms and turned away from him.

Johnny finished pulling his shirt on and walked up behind her. Putting a hand on each shoulder, he asked gently, “Why are you so upset about me returning to work?”

She pulled away from him and turned to face him. “Because your job is too dangerous!”

He sighed and closed his eyes a second, trying to keep calm, trying to keep in mind that he should be glad she cared so much for him that she couldn’t bear to see him hurt. “Heather, I was a fireman when you met me, and it didn’t bother you then. What’s different now?”

“The difference is that back then, I didn’t realize your job was out to get you.”

“My job’s not out to get me.”

“Tell me, when were you going to tell me about all your accidents? Or were you just going to keep that to yourself?”

He shrugged. Okay, here it comes. “I just didn't think you were interested.”

“Not interested!?” She exclaimed. “How could I not be interested? What happens to you at your job affects me, you know.”

“Heather, you've never asked me a thing about my job," he said defensively, "I never thought you cared.”

“Of course I care.” She stalked over to the window and looked out. “Don't you care anything about our future together?”

“Of course I do. But – ”

“Were you going to wait until after we get married and have children to tell me how many times you've almost been killed? And then when you die, I’d be left a widow with children to raise by myself.”

He was quiet a moment. Very softly, he said, “Heather, we’ve never even talked about marriage.”

            She turned from the window and stared at him, her eyes blazing. “Well, maybe we should!” she exploded.

            His eyes moved away from hers, and he stayed silent a long moment before saying very quietly, “I’m not ready yet.”

            “Well, maybe you better get ready to talk about it, because I don’t think it’s fair to just keep stringing me along.”

            “I’m not stringing you along. Heather, we haven’t even known each other a year yet. Now, just because I’ve had a few accidents doesn’t mean – ”

            “A few accidents! My God, John, did you listen to the list of things those men said about you at that spaghetti dinner? Have you forgotten about everything you’ve been through? All the pain and suffering from that gunshot wound?”

            “No, of course not. But every fireman takes those chances on their job. And very rarely do any of them get hurt. Most firemen – ”

            “Most firemen aren’t you. Now I don’t know why you’ve been hurt so many times, but maybe it’s some sort of a sign or something. Maybe someone up there is trying to tell you that you’re not cut out to be a fireman.”

            That made him angry. “That’s ridiculous. And besides, I’m not just a fireman. I’m a paramedic. I help people. I’m needed. Do you know how many paramedics there are in LA to service this entire city?”

            “No.”

            “Well, I can tell you, there’s not enough. Every one of us is needed, Heather. If I quit, I feel like I’d be letting down the whole city. I have a responsibility, and besides that, I love what I do. You want me to give up one of the most important things in my life?” He tried his best, most convincing tone, hoping that reason would change her mind.

“Your job means more to you than I do.”

            “That’s not true.”

            “Well, if it’s not, then you wouldn’t take another chance with your life and go back to it. You don’t seem to give a damn how this hurts me!”

            “Of course I do.”

            “No you don’t. And if you care so little for me, then I’m not sure I want to keep putting my heart into a relationship with someone who doesn’t give a damn about their own life!”

            The two stood staring each other down for a long moment. “It sounds like you’re asking me to choose between my job and you, is that it?”

            “I didn’t say that.”

            “Well, it sure sounded like it.”

            Frustrated, the next sentence just slipped out. “Well, at least with me you’d be where you were wanted!” Immediately realizing what she said, he eyes grew wide, and her fingertips went to her mouth.

            Johnny’s eyes narrowed in incomprehension. “Just what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

            “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

            Johnny smiled angrily and shook his head. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no; you aren’t going to get away with a loaded statement like that and not explain it.”

            “John, just forget what I said.”

            “No. I want you to tell me what you meant by that,” he persisted. His voice was ominously low.

            They stared at each other a long time, and finally, she caved. Almost in a whisper, she said, “I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

            “Hurt me how?” His voice went up a notch.

            “Please don’t make me tell you.”

            “Tell me what?!” he exploded, and she cringed. He moved toward her, and grabbed her by the arms. His teeth ground together. “I want you to tell me what you meant by, ‘at least with me, you’d be where you were wanted.’”

            Heather looked down at her arms where Johnny was tightly holding them. “All right; let me go, and I’ll tell you.”

            Johnny quickly let go, his eyes apologetic for squeezing her arms so tight. “I’m listening.”

            She walked around the bed and sat down on one side, rubbing at her arm. He stood on the other. “You remember the fireman’s spaghetti dinner you took me to?”

            “Yes. What’s that got to do with any of this?
            “Just listen, and I’ll tell you. When I went to the ladies’ room, I overheard a conversation between Chet’s girlfriend, Cindy, and Doreen, the wife of that guy who’s filling in for you….what’s his name….”

            “Adams.”

            “Yes; Adams. I was in the stall; they obviously didn’t know I was there.”

            “And?”

            “Cindy was asking Doreen how her husband liked working with Roy. She told her that Wesley ‘just loved working with Roy, and that the two of them were becoming the best of friends, and that they did everything together’.” Heather’s voice took on a tone of annoyance when quoting Doreen.

            “So?”

            “So, Doreen also told Cindy that Wesley didn’t want to leave, and that it was a shame, because Roy liked….working with him…..better than you.”

            John stared at her stonily. Finally, he said, “Is that all?”

            “No,” she said quietly, then took a breath. “She said that you and Roy had nothing in common, and that….Roy didn’t want you to come back to work. Then she said that Roy thinks that since you’ve won the lottery that you’ve gotten ‘too big for your britches’, and that you flaunt your money around.” Heather’s voice raised a notch indignantly. “She said that Roy and Joanne can hardly stand to spend time with you and your, and I quote, ‘Barbie doll girlfriend’.”

            Johnny’s eyes were blazing, and he was quickly growing angry. “I don’t believe this,” he growled.

            “I’m not done yet,” Heather said softly.

            “There’s more?” he said haltingly.

            “Yes; one last thing.” She swallowed, a voice from inside said to shut up and not say more, but she had come this far; he deserved to know the whole truth. “Doreen said that Roy…thinks you’re too….immature and reckless, and he thinks you’re a danger to yourself and the others at the station. She said he’s tired of ‘picking up the pieces of John Gage.’ When Cindy questioned her about how she knew all this about Roy, she commented that ‘Roy had confided in Wesley’.”

            Simultaneously stunned and incensed, Johnny stared at the wall for a long time. His shoulders were as tense as a wound coil, and he was breathing heavily. He turned to her, a fierce but defensive expression on his face. “That’s bullshit! I just talked to Roy.”

            Heather looked up at him, her eyes filling with sorrow at how much she knew she had just hurt him. “I’m just telling you what I heard. You can make of it what you wish.”

            Johnny turned abruptly and strode back to the window. His jaw was working as he tried to decipher what Heather had just told him. A dark thought occurred to him, and he spun angrily. “Are you sure that’s what you really heard? Or are you just embellishing things just a bit to convince me to quit my job? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

            Heather’s mouth dropped open, and she stared wide-eyed at him. “How dare you.” Her voice was shaking. “You would accuse me of lying to you so that I could get what I want. Is that the kind of person you think I am?”

            He looked uncertainly at her; his face fell as the realization that not only wasn’t she lying, but also that he had just done the equivalent of slapping her. “I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes.

            “You’re the one who begged me to tell you this! I didn’t want to, but you asked for it! Well, now you know. And maybe it’s for the best that you know the truth.” She sat silently, trying to calm herself as she watched him deflate, his shoulders slumping.

            “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have accused you.” Then he walked out of the room.

            Heather sat on the bed in the dimmed room and watched him leave. “I’m sorry too,” she said softly.

            Johnny barely ate two bites at dinner, and if Heather had asked him what the movie was about, he couldn’t have told her. He was so withdrawn that she finally decided to leave at the end of the evening, thinking it might be best to just leave him alone to sort it out by himself. She had tried talking to him about it, tried to convince him that maybe it wasn’t as bad as it all sounded. After realizing how badly her words had affected him, she even tried glossing over what Doreen had said by suggesting that she was probably just lying. But he refused to talk about it with her. He was too humiliated.

            Johnny got little sleep that night, and the next few days were spent wandering around the house aimlessly. Depression washed over him like an unexpected ocean wave, and he couldn’t seem to summon the energy to go anywhere or do anything. Wanting to be alone, he didn’t call Heather, and she seemed to know he needed some time, because she didn’t call him either.

Feeling claustrophobic, he finally went for a long walk, returning two hours later. Part of the time had been spent just sitting on a park bench, thinking. When he became restless again, he went for a drive. Ever since his conversation with Heather, he thought about what he should do, obsessed with figuring out the truth. Should he believe what Heather had heard in the rest room or not? On the one hand, part of it seemed believable; Johnny could see that Roy and Wesley had grown quite close. And it was the truth that he certainly had had his share of accidents. But how could Roy think those were his fault – or that he was reckless? He could see, maybe, that if he had been paying more attention, he would have seen the driver that had run him down, and maybe he would have been able to get out of the way. And he should have been more careful about the snake. Heck, if he hadn’t left the handi-talki in the car, it never would have happened. That was careless. But how could he have possibly gotten out of the way of that bullet? Roy could have just as easily been shot.

            Thoughts of Heather’s argument for quitting swirled in his mind. He looked around the neighborhood as he walked. It was beautiful. Really, he had it made. He was rich, had a beautiful girlfriend who wanted a future with him; he had his whole life ahead of him. He could do anything he wanted; go anywhere he wanted. Should he continue to take chances with his life? How many more times would it take before his luck ran out? Was he just blindly tempting fate? Maybe she was right. Maybe he was just being thickheaded. With Heather he could have a future, a family, and never want for anything the rest of his life. If he went back to work, well, who knew what would happen?

            He felt the urge to talk to Roy, but then realized that Roy was working today. He decided he would go by tomorrow.

            Another restless night brought another new day, and Johnny was still uncertain of what to do, although he thought he was a little closer to his decision. He wanted to talk to Roy first, so after his breakfast, and a cup of coffee, he decided to pay him a visit. It was nine o’clock, late enough for Roy to probably be done with breakfast, (he didn’t want Roy to think he was dropping in for a free meal), but early enough that if Roy was tired, he probably wouldn’t have gone up to bed yet. It depended on how busy their night was, as to whether Roy would nap. Although John hadn’t worked, he felt like going back to bed himself. Maybe after he talked with Roy, the right decision would seem clearer, and he could relax. Then maybe he would go back to bed.

            Johnny grimaced in frustration as he neared DeSoto’s house. He slowed in front of it, seeing the red truck that he knew belonged to Adams in the driveway. Damn! He cursed. He couldn’t talk to Roy with him there. He drove on, deciding to stop by later. Adams had probably come over for breakfast, much like he used to do. A pang of regret filled him as he dwelled on the words, ‘used to’.

            Unfortunately, at three o’clock when Johnny drove by, the red truck was still there. Frustrated and angry, Johnny drove away once again, giving up. The hell with it, he thought. I don’t need Roy’s permission to make my decision. I guess Adam’s wife was right about Roy and Wesley spending a lot of time together. This wasn’t the first time Johnny had driven to Roy’s house and seen that red truck parked in the driveway. And I guess it won’t be the last, he chagrinned.

            He drove for an hour, then, tired of lamenting, finally made his decision. Resolved to take care of it right then before he changed his mind, he drove to Captain Stanley’s house.

Hank was truly stunned at John’s announcement that he was resigning from the department. He quietly scrutinized Johnny throughout his explanation, taking note of how much trouble John had making eye contact with him, his nervous smile, and uncertain mannerisms. Roy hadn’t discussed with anyone the fact that Heather was doing her best to try to convince Johnny to quit, but Hank still suspected that there was something more to John’s reasons for leaving that he was omitting, something it seemed he felt uncomfortable revealing.

            “Are you sure you want to do this?” he’d asked from his position on the edge of the arm of his couch.

            Johnny had looked up at him briefly, his eyes looked so forlorn, almost desperate, then flitted away. “Positive,” he nodded.

            Hank sighed, looking away and twisting his mouth while he searched for some revelation to come to his mind. Johnny had caught him so off guard that he hadn’t had time to really think about the situation. While he didn’t want to deny his youngest paramedic the right to happiness, he wouldn’t have thought twice about letting him go if he had thought that Johnny would really have been happier leaving his job. But all the body language he was receiving now indicated uncertainty tinged with a resigned sadness.

            Hank had looked at him then and asked, “Does Roy know about this yet?” Somehow, he suspected he didn’t.

Johnny had hesitantly responded, “I…haven’t had a chance to tell him yet.”

The Captain’s brows had shot up when he’d learned this information, and he had commented, “I’m…surprised you and Roy haven’t discussed this. I thought you guys were pretty tight.”

“Cap, I don’t need to talk to him. I know how he feels. I can make my own decision.” 

Hank had slowly nodded at that comment, not quite sure how to read it. His eyes narrowed a bit. “Is…everything okay between you two?”

Johnny only hesitated a split second before answering. “Sure, Cap; no problem.”

Hank began to conclude that he wasn’t going to get a totally honest answer out of John. He had an inkling that Johnny might have been influenced by Heather. While he tried not to listen to the gossip that sometimes flew around the station, he couldn’t help but hear an occasional reference to the fact that Heather wasn’t overly enthusiastic about Johnny being a firefighter, because of all that had happened to him. But on the other hand, what woman didn’t try to influence her man into doing things she wanted? While he was inclined to question John about his real reasons for leaving, at the same time he felt that Gage was a grown man, and didn’t feel he had the right to second guess his decision; he felt hesitant butting in to something that was none of his business. Still, he felt he had to say something, and struggled for something to say that wouldn’t sound like he was interfering. Johnny had sounded a little defensive moments ago when asked if he’d discussed it with Roy. But it was a decision that would affect him and his crew, so maybe he did have the right to question it. And, he cared about this young man. He thought it would be a shame for Johnny to throw away something that had obviously been so meaningful in his life for the wrong reasons. Finally, he said, “Well, I can certainly understand why you say you want to leave. Heaven knows you’ve had your share of….misfortune. What you’ve been through is enough to cause anyone to think twice. Still,” he rubbed at his chin, “I am surprised, John. I really thought you’d be back.” He smiled, “I always kind of thought that firefighting was in your blood.”

            Johnny looked away uncomfortably. “I thought so too, Cap. But, maybe….maybe it’s time for me to go. You know, believe it or not, growin’ old kinda sounds good to me. I’d like to get that chance.” He looked back and gave his captain a small smile.

            “I understand.” They stood awkwardly for a moment, then Hank had another thought. “John, I don’t want to second guess your decision, but, well, are you sure you don’t want a little more time to think about this? I mean, you aren’t due back for a couple of weeks yet. Why don’t I just put this,” he gestured to John’s resignation letter, “on my desk for the time being, then if you’re still sure in a few weeks, I’ll submit it to headquarters then.”

            Johnny shook his head. “No; I’m not going to change my mind. I think it’s time for me to move on.”

            Hank sighed. Reluctantly, he responded, “Fair enough.” He set the letter of resignation on a small desk in the corner of the room. “So, what are you going to do with all the time you’ll have on your hands?”

            Johnny looked up thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Cap; travel probably, maybe learn more about sailing.” He realized then that he hadn’t really figured out yet what he would do. “I don’t know exactly.” His brow scrunched up in thought. “Maybe I could do some volunteer work for the department or something.”

            Captain Stanley brightened, pleased at the idea. “That’s a wonderful idea, Johnny. You certainly have helped out the department a lot already, with your generous donations to the Fireman’s Fund.”

            Johnny looked at him in surprise. “How’d you know about that?”

            “I got eyes, pal. Headquarters keeps a list of donations. I’ve seen your name on the list every month. Don’t worry; I know you wanted your donations to remain anonymous. I just thought you deserved a heartfelt ‘thank you’ from someone.”

            Johnny scratched at the back of his neck. “It’s no big deal, Cap. It’s one of the most worthwhile charities I can think of.” The Fireman’s Fund raised money to help the spouses and families of firemen killed or disabled on the job. “I will look into volunteering though.” John got up from the chair he’d been sitting in, announcing that he better go. He shook his Captain’s hand, and emotion welled up inside of him as he did so. Turning away quickly, he said, “I’ll stop by soon and get my stuff out of the locker.”

            “No hurry.” Hank walked him to the door, then put a hand on his shoulder. “John?”

            Johnny turned to look up at his captain.

“Would you do me a favor and talk with Roy about this before tomorrow’s shift?”

            Johnny nodded. “Sure, Cap.”

            “I think he deserves to know his permanent partner won’t be back before everyone else does.” Hank still couldn’t understand why John and Roy hadn’t discussed this, but felt a definite wall go up when he’d asked about it. Maybe Roy would be able to enlighten him.

            “You’re right. He does.”

            They said one last good-bye, and Johnny left.

            He sighed as he drove, willing his shoulders to untense. Not knowing where he was going, he just drove, ending up at the beach. He parked the Corvette and got out for a walk to think. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he plodded his way through the heavy sand and down by the water. A few sunbathers were braving the cool day, but for the most part, the beach was deserted. He pulled his sunglasses on to shield his eyes from the blinding reflection of the sun on the sand. A gentle breeze calmed him as he slowly walked along the edge of the water, listening to the surf. He felt a little numb.

            After awhile, Johnny just sat down in the sand and stared out at the water. I just ended my career, was all he could think of. Everything I’ve worked so hard for all these years; I’ve just thrown it all away. For the longest time, he sat, trying to convince himself that the decision he’d made was the right one. This is ridiculous. It’s just a freakin’ job. Life is too short. I’ve almost been killed so many times I’ve lost count. There’s other ways I can help people if I want to; I don’t have to put my life on the line every day. That’s just plain stupid. I’ve been tempting fate all this time. I’ve gotta get it through my thick head that not being a firefighter isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I don’t need to work. I just need to reprogram my thinking, is all. This is gonna be better.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, and exhaled, relaxing. There was no pain at all. It occurred to him that he’d made it again, made it through another situation that almost claimed his life, and he realized how lucky he was, to be given so many chances. Memories of all the pain and suffering he’d endured because of this job flooded into him; the broken bones, the internal injuries, the sickness, and the scars they all left behind were permanent reminders of all he’d been through, and he decided that not only did he not want to suffer like that ever again, but that he didn’t think it was worth taking the chance.

I’ve made the right decision. It is gonna be hard though, to get used to a new life away from the station, away from my friends. But hey, life is about change; I can’t expect things to stay the same forever, can I?

            Boy, the look in the Cap’s eye made me uncomfortable, like he thought I was doing the wrong thing, but didn’t want to say it. He wants me to tell Roy. I don’t wanna tell Roy, but I have to. What am I gonna tell him?

Maybe it won’t be so hard…maybe this is what he wants too…maybe it’ll be a relief to him. I guess just like everything else, our friendship is changing too. I’m gonna miss going home with Roy and having breakfast, seeing the kids… That thought brought on a gloomy feeling, and he forced himself to start thinking about the positive changes that his decision would bring about. Heather’ll be happy. I guess it’s good that at least one of us will be. He rolled his eyes. Stop it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself! God, Gage, you don’t know how good you have it; probably every guy in the department would kill to have the life you have, so quit acting like it’s the end of the world. He picked up a fistful of sand, and let it sift through his fingers, then did it again, over and over. Maybe the Cap won’t turn in my letter right away.

            He looked at his watch. It was six o’clock. I’ve gotta go talk to Roy. Begrudgingly, he picked himself up off the sand, and trudged back to his car, dreading the confrontation. It took him twenty minutes to get to Roy’s, and he couldn’t believe it when Adam’s car was still there. Christ, he must be staying for dinner! He’ll probably be there the rest of the evening.  Johnny hesitated a few moments, letting his car idle at the curb several houses down, while he tried to decide if he wanted to go ahead and talk to Roy anyway. A streetlight clicked on as he gazed at the DeSoto house. They would be eating dinner, he knew, and Wesley would be there. No, I’m not gonna go talk to Roy about this with him there. Fuck it! I’m going home. Let the Cap tell him. Frustrated, he pulled his car into a driveway, turned around, and went home.

Part 8