Their ‘man down’ call ended up being a simple lift assist.

The paramedics helped Mrs. Levinson pick her uninjured husband up off the floor of their living room and get him resituated in his wheelchair.

_______________________________________________

The pair was in the process of replacing their medical equipment when Johnny suddenly realized something. “At least it wasn’t another person ‘stuck’ call.”

“In a way, it was,” Roy quickly countered. “That guy was stuck there on the floor til we came along and picked him back up.”

John nodded thoughtfully.

Roy grinned. “What d’yah say we swing by the hospital on our way back and check on our namesakes?”

His partner’s reply was to launch himself into their squad so fast his door was closed before Roy could even complete his question.

________________________________________________

Fifteen minutes later, up in Rampart General’s Nursery…

51’s paramedics stood with their foreheads pressed against the cool glass of the newborns’ observation window.

“Wonder which one is which?” John pondered as he stood there, pacing in place.

Roy smiled. “John has to be the one on the right—the one that can’t seem to lie still.”

“Figured I’d find the two of you here,” Dr. Early said as he came stepping up to them with an open medical journal in his hands. “I have something to show you…” He held the periodical up for the paramedics to examine.

“Sound familiar?” Early inquired, upon noting the two firemen had finished reading.

The readers exchanged thoughtful glances.

“Uhhh…yeah, Doc,” John replied.

“Definitely sounds like our fraternity guy…” Roy had to admit.

“More and more cases are coming through the ER every week. Probably wouldn’t hurt to bring it up at your next Advisory Meeting.”

“Right,” Roy agreed. Or, not. He had visions of the entire committee suddenly experiencing an urgent need to shower.

____________________________________________

Later that afternoon…

Roy entered Station 51’s rec’ room and spotted his still pacing partner’s untouched lunch. “No appetite?”

John suddenly realized he was no longer alone with his thoughts and halted in mid-stride. “Huh?”

Roy fought back a grin. “I said, I see you’re not eating again. Shall I call it in? Rampart, this is County 51. I have a 30 yr. old male patient. Symptoms are: loss of appetite and extreme restlessness. The victim seems to be walking around in some sort of a daze. Vitals are: pulse 60, BP 90/60, respirations 12—unless a certain young lady is present. Then, pulse is 80, BP is 120/80 and respirations are 20. 51, sounds like your victim has suffered a severe blow to his heart. Draw some blood for analysis and get a marriage license ready. Then, administer two witnesses, one Justice of the Peace and a honeymoon in Lake Tahoe.” Roy grinned, seeing that his teasing had succeeded in causing his uptight chum to chuckle. “I think I may be onto something. I haven’t seen you blush that much since that hairdresser sat in your lap and called you ‘cuuute’.”

The memory of that moment caused his bachelor friend to chuckle anew. “You forgot to mention the aching arms,” John joined in, once he’d regained his composure…somewhat.

“Ahhh. Ri-ight. That feeling you get when your arms want to hold her so bad they actually hurt. Better get used to it, my boy. Because that feeling never goes awa—”

The rest of his married buddy’s comment was drowned out by the tones, summoning Squad 51 on yet another run.

____________________________________

Thirteen minutes later, at an extremely crowded restaurant—the site of their ‘woman down’ call…

Their 67 yr. old ‘syncopal episode’ victim had been successfully revived.

“You’d faint, too, if your 87 year-old mother just told you she was getting married!” the woman shouted and shoved the signed ‘Refusal of Treatment’ form back at the blond fireman.

The woman’s engaged, and rather engaging, mother just sat there in their booth looking most amused and not the least bit repentant.

The no longer needed, or wanted, rescuers gathered their equipment up and quickly took their leave.

________________________________________

“Well,” Gage began as they stepped back out onto the sidewalk. “Nobody was ‘stuck’, this…time…” his words trailed off.

A red Pontiac Firebird was parked right up against the Squad’s front bumper, and a blue Lincoln V was parked right up against its back bumper.

The firemen stood there staring in disbelief at their completely ‘hemmed in’ rescue truck.

DeSoto turned to his buddy, looking extremely annoyed, “You were saying…”

__________________________________________

An hour later, back in Station 51’s rec’ room…

“We don’t wanna hear about tow trucks and parking tickets,” Chet interrupted the two still-irritated and venting paramedics. “We wanna hear about that reefer call you guys had this morning. You guys had to be high. I mean, I was gettin’ high just inhalin’ your fumes.”

“You mean the ‘Party Party Party Fraternity’ call?” Roy sarcastically queried.

“We ever get a run there again, I’m goin’ in with my air-pac on,” Johnny vowed.

“So, what’d that guy have stuck in his jaw?” Mike wondered.

“A…worm,” Roy hesitatingly replied.

John saw Stoker’s look of disbelief and nodded. “Only, turns out it wasn’t stuck. It was crawling around.”

Chet’s face scrunched up in disgust, but then his curiosity won out. “How does a guy ever get a ‘worm’ stuck in his jaw?” he inquired over the sound of the claxons.

John and Roy rose to their feet but, before exiting the room, they turned to Kelly and exclaimed, in perfect unison, “Planes, man! Planes!”

The engine crew watched their grinning paramedic chums disappear into the garage.

“Had to be high?” Marco repeated.

Heck, they were still high.

_____________________________________

Back in the rec’ area of Station 51, two hours and forty-five minutes before the shift change…

One of B-Shift’s paramedics stepped into the room and almost ran into one of A-Shift’s paramedics. Actually, Gage almost ran into him.

John, who’d barely managed to hit the brakes in time, appeared puzzled. “What are you doing here?”

“Captain Stanley called and asked if I’d be willing to come in a couple a’ hours early,” J.T. told him. “Something about helping Roy put you out of your misery?”

John’s head swung in his buddy’s direction.

Roy shrugged. “Thought the two of you could go out to breakfast before she has to go to work.”

John’s disbelieving gaze fell upon his coffee-sipping Captain.

Hank smiled and nodded.

Gage gave all three firemen looks of eternal gratitude before racing for the payphone. He almost started dialing before the coin could even hit the bottom of the slot. A full minute passed. “She’s not picking up…”

“Maybe she’s in the shower?” Roy suggested.

“I should just go over there,” Johnny said, thinking aloud. “Yeah. Yea-eah. I should just go over there and ask her in person.”

The deliriously happy young man slammed the phone down and went racing out to his car.

The remaining firemen watched in amusement as the off-duty paramedic drove past the window to the alley, still wearing his duty uniform.

Hank suddenly realized something. “Poor guy’s got it bad.”

“Real bad,” Roy agreed and exchanged a broad grin with his Captain.

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