"Carlos?!" shouted Gage, hurrying to that location. "You ok? Kelly said you bugged out to the rear..."
Coughing, the air masked fireman ripped off his own face mask when the air fizzled out on his
tank, giving a cut throat signal to Gage with some fingers across his neck. Johnny offered him his
mask for a few clean breaths of untainted air. " *choke* I'm fine. D*mned grease slick. I slipped
following Chet and ran out of escape time or I would've helped with getting her free. She still
alive?"
"Yeah.. Roy's got her. What happened to Chet's hands?" said, Gage, guiding the exhausted
Moreno safely back to the path he'd found under the water bucket.
"He got down on the floor
to see better and crawled right into that hot grease in the kitchen. It set his gloves on fire. We
got them off as fast as we could. What happened in there? I thought you and Roy were working a
dinner."
"We were, pal. Only a pair of obnoxious teen gangers decided to turn stupid with some
kind of twisted initiation rite and there you have it...." he gestured grandly to the now fully involved
structure.
"What did they do?"
"Dared each other to stick their hands into an active french
fryer using vasoline."
"Stupid!"
"I know. That's what Roy and I thought. And look what
it's gonna cost Marco's congregation and the city to repair.." He took a breath himself off the
SCBA before he broadcast out to Cap on the curb down the alleyway. As they went, both firefighters
gave the bucket man a thumbs up for the water curtain along their route.
"HT 51 to Engine
51."
##Engine 51.##
"We're in the clear and heading out."
##10-4. Your two victims
have medical orders from Rampart already set.##
"10-4. I'll be right there!" shouted Gage over
the noisy water raining down onto them from above. "Moreno's completely uninjured."
##I copy
that.## came Cap's highly relieved voice.
Soon, Gage and Moreno made the safety of the main street
and separated, patting each other on the back with the parting. Moreno jogged over to the engine for
a new air bottle and to give a fast report to Cap about the status of the interior fire degradation.
Johnny peeled off his dripping coat, air bottle and helmet. He tossed his HT to Cap as he ran
by, heading towards Roy and Marissa. She was now lying on her back, on a rich O2 flow, with both
her feet perched up on top of a fire hydrant. He quickly got to work assessing her consciousness
status. "She shocky a whole lot?"
|
DeSoto shook his head from the I.V. he was starting on the shelter worker. "Nah. Pressure's still
in the nineties. She's beginning to cough and she never needed the demand valve."
"How's
her chest sounding."
"Wheezy, but open."
"Ok..." sighed Johnny. "Guess we're in business."
He quickly got to work on raising her consciousness level.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco was cooling down Chet's burn sheet covered hands with a bottle of saline where Kelly sat
on the engine's bumper. "Oo, Chet. Do they hurt yet?"
"I definitely feel like a french fry,
Marco. **Ummhff!* but I can wait. Help Roy and Johnny out with Marissa first. I'm fine. I'm only
worried about what Cap's gonna think when I tell him I lost my helmet again."
"He's not gonna
say anything, Chet, you were rescuing someone. Besides, you've just waded through an edge roofed
wall collapse. Your helmet probably got knocked off by a brick or two hitting your head."
"Yeah,
you're probably right. I do remember a few louder than normal noises from the usual. Oww.." grimaced
Chet and he coughed wetly.
"How's your breathing? Do you need some O2?" Lopez asked.
"Nah.
I'm phlegmy, but ok. Probably gonna be hoarse for an entire week. Tell Roy that I'm lung clear once
you're through wetting my hands down, cause I am." Chet insisted, leaning his sweaty sooty haired
head against the chrome grip bar. He closed his eyes in exhaustion and just concentrated on thinking
cool thoughts to ease the throbbing fire shooting through his hands.
"Ok,..but I'm leaving
the oxygen tank here in case things change. Cap'll have my hide if it's not offered." Lopez said.
"Man," said Chet, grinning. "You in working mode already? Get outta here and go be a civilian
again. No doubt the cops are gonna need a statement from ya about what went on in there so you'd
better act the part, pal, before Cap notices ya fussing with me."
"See ya later."
"Yeah..."
grunted Chet as his irrigated, blistered hands were slowly chilled to blissful numbness in the foggy
night air.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gage began
a fast sweep, looking for burns and wounds on Marissa after cutting away her seared clothes. He found
none. A log roll to expose her back, revealed nothing except dirt also. Johnny set down a burn
pad underneath Marissa to insulate her from the cold pavement then he covered her lightly with a
plastic sheet to help preserve her body temperature when the fainted girl began to shiver from
the cold.
Johnny picked up the resuscitator and began using it in time with Marissa's inhalations
to stimulate her awake once Roy had a flowing I.V. going.
The sensation of being ventilated
woke the groggy girl up the rest of the way and she began coughing violently. Her panicked thoughts
continued where they had left off from when the smoke had snuffed out her consciousness. "Meghan?!
Stevie?! Ohmyg*d! Get em out!"
"Easy...easy.. Marissa? Marissa!.. They're both fine. Understand
me?" Roy said, holding her shoulders down. "Meghan and Stevie are already on the way to the hospital,ok?
Just try to relax."
"*choke* What happened?" Marissa blinked when she realized that she was
on the street with a dozen bystanders gawking at her amid the flurry of red fire department lights.
"You ran back inside and got overcome by a little smoke." grinned Johnny, taking her blood pressure
from where he crouched over Marissa's head. Roy palpated the result from where he was on the biophone,
reaching across Marissa's waist and relaying it to Brackett on the phone. "Now I'm not gonna lecture
you on how stupid a stunt that was. I think you've learned your lesson." said Johnny. "How's your
chest feeling now?"
"Like I was chain smoking rubber bands.." she rasped.
"That'll
go away in a bit. Just keep taking in deep breaths on this oxygen and it'll happen faster." he said
switching out the demand valve for the clear mask again.
"How's Stevie? Meghan said he was
choking!" Marissa panicked.
"We got it out. He's fine. He's fine. Now don't get worked up fussing
about that. Meghan and Stevie are gonna be just fine. No one is hurt bad, including you. We're gonna
be taking you to Rampart for a checkup in just a few minutes to be sure you're all right, ok?"
Marissa's lip quivered. "Oh, Father Murphy's gonna be so sad. We just found that office space
for our soup kitchen. Tonight was our grand opening.." she said, bright tears in her eyes. "It'll
be a miracle if the church raises all those funds a second time. We're not rich at all."
|
|
|
"Insurance companies can work miracles themselves nowdays, Marissa." Roy reassured her. "Try and
get some rest. Johnny and I promise. We'll stay and watch you the whole trip in so you won't be alone.
In fact, I'll ask Marco to join us, too, to keep you company."
"I'd like that." coughed Marissa,
"We have so much to talk about ....rebuilding....everyt-...." and her eyes drifted shut.
"Marissa?"
Gage asked in a gentle check.
"Just napping..." Marissa sighed. "I'm feeling....so tired...Let
me sleep."
Roy checked the rate and visual on the EKG monitor. Then he said, "Sure. Sleep
will only do you a world of good." DeSoto said. "Night, Marissa."
"...n-night, ...*yawn*...fellas."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
******************************************************************************** Date: Wed, 2 Feb
2005 09:23:58 -0800 (PST) From: "Jeff Seltun" <finiterider@yahoo.com> Subject: Pavlov's Dogs
It was Thursday, one week after the soup kitchen fire.
Captain Stanley stood by the station's
main chalkboard. He was the image of no nonsense authority as he outlined station's business
briskly with some speed before an incoming run interrupted. "Ok, is everybody perfectly clear on their
duty assignments? Marco, welcome back. You're on the engine, light duty. I want no direct attack
fire fighting from you. If there's a call for a victim search, pass it off to someone else. At no
time do you go into a fire scene."
"Aw, Cap. I feel fine. The doc says I'm almost one hundred
percent." Lopez protested.
Hank's coffee brown eyes and bushy eyebrows rose in consternation.
"Almost's a word, in my book, that means ain't gonna happen, Marco. Not in a million years. There's
a reason for the pickiness of the clean bill of health order from McConike. Gee, fellas," he remarked
sarcastically, "I guess the Order Nine's just window dressing. Marco, you know as well as I do
that the chief kicked out that to prevent the sidelined from doing anything dumb before they're healed
enough to handle it. Just look at Chet, pal. He's not grumbling being my look out and chart man."
"Oh yes he is..." mumbled Johnny Gage, from where he slumped on the couch, laughing.
Hank,
still deep in his fire suppressing strategy lecture, missed the low banter going on behind him.
|
Kelly elbowed Johnny in the ribs to shut him up. "Says who." he hissed in annoyance. "I've been a
perfect angel in spite of these." he said, holding up his water proofed bandage wrapped hands.
"My burns are already crusting over."
"So's your mood, Chet. Shhh. I can't hear the Cap.." mumbled
Murphy, Chet's stand in replacement on the engine.
"Arf! " barked Boot in a tattle tailing woof.
Cap swept down his map pointer in an exasperated huff. "All right. Who's flapping their gums?"
he moaned in long suffering. "I told Boot to keep an eye out for chattering, so consider yourselves
caught red handed."
Gage and Murphy and Kelly looked everywhere but at Cap's directed gaze.
Roy raised amused eyebrows. "I don't think Boot can point out the perpetrators, Cap. He doesn't
have any fingers."
"Yeah, well if I hear another bark from him, None of you are gonna have
any fingers left, cause you'll be scrubbing the vehicle slab by hand with toothbrushes! Kapeesh!"
No one even breathed.
"Now let's finish the usual monthly yada." he said, smacking the
chalkboard with his stick, "and let's get done with it. I'm getting just as hungry as the rest of
you. Whatever Dixie's cooking smells absolutely divine..." moaned Cap.
"Don't rush on my account.."
came the smoky voiced reply from the nurse bustling around the station kitchen. "This is Roy's Beef
Bourgenon recipe. It only gets better the longer it simmers." and she licked the gravy off of her
finger tips.
|
Hank swallowed in sheer torture, and his stomach growled. Loudly. "Yes...well..ok, now...where was
I?"
Chet burst out eagerly. "Engine assignments just wrapped up and you were showing all of
us how you contain an east facing interior warehouse magnesium fire under Santa Ana wind condtions
exceeding fifteen knots,.. hypothetically supposing that the source material's ignition point
was actually a multiple story high stack of wooden crates containing self heating military rations,
Cap."
Hank's eyes waggled in sheer amazement. "..wow.. I'm glad somebody was paying attention
here. Cause there's a test on it after lunch."
"What?!" exclaimed Marco, Murphy and Gage.
"Gotcha.." said Hank. "There's more than one way to flush out cover hiding birds. And I don't have
to be Boot to do it. You three, consider yourselves on garage floor detail the rest of the week for
talking at a meeting."
"Aw, Cap.."
"Wanna make it two weeks?"
Silence reigned.
Cap eyed the three firefighters shifting uncomfortably on the cushy leather couch and smiled,
real big. "Thought so. Guys, I'm almost done. So bear with me, huh? Then we can dive into that
wonderful New Year's eve meal that Dixie, bless her heart, so kindly made for us. Gimme thirty seconds
more.."
All eyes finally rested on his own. Including Boot's. Cap nodded with a sigh and held
up his last update report. "Marco, this one might be of interest to you. This is the coroner's report
from that car accident where you got injured. Turns out that the driver's friend wasn't a friend of
his after all. The passenger was a murder victim. Killed the night before. The driver was going
to dump him in the river course anyway when he hit that telephone pole getting there to get rid of
him."
"Those two were drug handlers?" asked Gage.
"Yep. The cops found some cocaine in
the trunk, remember?"
"Yeah..." said Johnny aghast, his memories of saving the man pinned under
the car slowing turning into something ugly. "I remember. I remember.. it's just that.. He seemed
like such a nice guy. He didn't strike me as the murdering type."
"Tell that to the passenger
we went hunting for in the river bed." said Mike Stoker. "I'm sure if he were still alive, he'd tell
you the same thing." Mike sighed, crossing his arms over his elbows.
The stunned look didn't
lessen on Johnny's face as he absorbed the news, until Boot's suddenly offered comforting tongue washed
it away.
"That about wraps it up. Let's eat.." said Cap.
The gang rose from their chairs
and the couch when a run of short tones went out for the squad.
"Oh, man..." said Johnny,
eyeing up the steaming bowl of delectable meat stew that Dixie was centering on the table. "I'm
gonna starve to death..."
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"No you won't. Just think..it only g--" started Dixie.
"I know, I know. Only gets better the
longer it simmers.." said Johnny as he followed Roy out of the room at a fast jog for the squad.
He tried not to drool on his shirt as he ran by the others settling in at the table.
Dixie
called out after them. "Oh, boys.. avoid the locker room when you get back if you know what's good
for ya.." she warned with a wink. She wasn't beneath priming her favorite paramedic pair for a
surprise or two.
"Huh?" gaped Johnny, skidding to a halt at the remark.
Roy's long arm
jerked him into motion again. "Come on, Einstein. You can analyze that one on the way. Let's go.."
Soon, the speeding rescue squad was roaring code three onto the sunny, holiday traffic sparse
boulevard from the drive.
##Squad 51. Man down. 1414 North Pacific Boulevard...##
"Left,
Roy, left." pointed Johnny.
"I know. I know. Kinda figured it wasn't gonna be anything in the
business district today. Everybody's all at home because of New Year's eve, remember? That's why Dixie
took sympathy and came out here to cook lunch for us on her day off." complained Roy.
##1414
North Pacific Boulevard. Cross street Cocoa Beach. Time out: 1355.##
"I realize all that. I
was just trying to help ya navigate Roy, geesh.." snapped Johnny.
"Yeah, well you should know
I'm never too terribly accommodating on an empty stomach."
Johnny cracked a grin. "You and
me both. Say, here's an idea. There's no cops out today to catch us speeding in a school zone.
Step on it."
"Too right." Roy thumbed the acknowledgement microphone from the dashboard derisively."Squad
51. 10-4. KMG 365."
##Squad 51.##
|
************************************************ From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com>
Date: Wed Feb 2, 2005 9:10 pm Subject: How the Mighty Fall...
Johnny and Roy rushed
down the sidewalk leading to a rustic suburban house loaded with their complete array of medical
equipment. And then some.
"Roy, did L.A. give us any more information about what we got?" puffed
Gage, hurrying to the front door of the house a little faster.
"Nope. You know as much as I
do." Roy said tightly.
"Man,...*whew* Getting a call about a man down can mean just about
anything.." Johnny sighed in frustration as their shoes clicked quickly on the cobblestones.
"Tell
me about it..." grumbled Roy. So did his stomach.
Johnny laughed as they climbed the stone steps
of the residence. "Was that you?"
"Fraid so. I'm so hungry, just the idea of these sugar I.V.'s
being in my hand are setting me off."
Johnny split a gut. "Really? Just don't embarrass yourself
in front of whoever..." Gage quipped. "The fire department has a professional image to uphold
you know."
Roy didn't deign to reply to that comment. He set down the defibrillator, resuscitator
and trauma box and briskly knocked on the front door loudly. "L.A. County Fire Department!"
There was no immediate reply.
|
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|
Automatically, the two paramedics split up to peer into the nearby curtained windows to see if they
could see anything.
A monstrous barking greeted Roy's sharp knuckle raps on a stained glass
window pane.
A woman's frantic voice soon wove itself over the large dog's. "I'm coming. Hurry.
Please. It's my husband. He won't wake up!"
"Open the door, ma'am. It's still locked." Gage shouted.
"Oh,,...." the housewife trickled. "I- I'm sorry.. I.. There! It's open!" And the door flung wide
open on a living room of olive green shag carpeting and beadstring doorways.
The huge slathering
maw of a gigantic canine launched in a leap past the two paramedics heads when the way to the outside
porch was clear.
Gage and Roy flinched as they each got an impression of a great St. Bernard
in full motion. But then the dog was gone in a flurry of scrabbling claws.
"Faust! You come
back here! Oh, bad dog! BAD dog! Not the mail man!" the petite flower aproned, red haired woman quailed.
Johnny and Roy gulped down the scare in seconds, barely registering the sight of a mailman across
the street rapidly making for a sturdy tree to scale, trailing flying envelopes and bills. Faust cleared
the yard's white picket fence easily, in pursuit of his daily quarry.
"Oh no!!.. Not again.
Uh, I'll worry about Faust later. Please.. Hurry.." begged the very young housewife and she disappeared
in a frantic run for a den workshop located just to the right of the front door.
"I just about
had a heart attack seeing him. Didn't you?" Gage whispered to his equally rattled up partner.
"Can't say that we weren't tipped off. Keep breathin'. You'll survive. We'll rescue the mailman after
we're done here. Either that, or we can call in the engine to get him down." Roy shrugged, not even
giving the dramatic fiasco of dog versus mail carrier a second glance.
"Oh, nooo.. I can
do without a hungry Cap breathing down my neck." Gage said. "Whatever you do, don't call for the engine."
"Ok." Roy agreed.
------------------------------------------------------------------
They
found a young man lying face down, slumped under a running buzzsaw on a bench. Not knowing if the
man's problem was electrical shock or not, Johnny used an uncut pine board to knock the tool's
plug out of the wall. "What happened?" he asked the housewife.
"I don't know! Jerry gave a
yell and I ran in here and found him like this. He- he- he wouldn't wake up, no matter how hard I
shook him. Oh! Is he ok?! I thought he fell down stone dead." she sniveled, still very hysterical.
"He's so pale."
Roy and Johnny moved the woodworking bench away from their patient and they
both bent close over him, feeling for signs of life.
"He's got a pulse." DeSoto said.
"He's breathing.." added Johnny without moving him and he went straight into a head, neck and spine
check, running his hands over the husband's body and along his limbs, looking for trouble spots.
"Doesn't seem like he fell. I'm not finding any blood anywhere and nothing's out of alignment here."
Roy nodded, setting up the biophone after getting the man on some oxygen.
"Hey!" Gage yelled
in the man's ear. "Jerry, can you hear me?!"
Jerry didn't move.
Reaching down, Johnny tried
something else.
The man finally moaned weakly with a firm sternal rub.
"Hey, Jerry.. Open
your eyes. Come on. Can you do that for me?!" Johnny shouted.
He didn't open them. Nor did
he moan again to anything that was just verbal.
Carefully, Johnny turned the passed out husband
onto his side and opened his shirt up, checking for problems down the front part of Jerry's body.
"Ma'am. Does Jerry have any medical problems that you know of? Diabetes, old injuries, any breathing
problems?"
"No, nothing like that..." she sobbed. "Jerry's a very healthy man. In fact, last
night, he was telling me how pleased the airforce doctors were with his physical. He's just been approved
to be a test fighter pilot. Oh, my G*d. What's wrong with him?"
|
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|
"Ma'am. We're gonna get some answers real soon. My partner's getting a doctor on the line right now.
Just calm down a little. I think you'll do a little better sitting down on that chair over there,
don't you?" Johnny suggested. "No need to get worked up. He's doing fine so far."
The tearful
housewife listened and immediately took a seat when her rubbery knees finally failed on her. "Please
help him. I didn't know what to do except get on the phone to the operator."
"You did fine
doing that. We're here now. Missus...." Johnny fished.
"Mrs. Kaftan., uh, J-Joyce. I'm Joyce."
"All right, Joyce. I'm gonna take a set of vitals on Jerry here for our doctor on the phone and
we'll all get at least some clues about what's causing this blackout of his." Gage told her.
"O-Ok.."
she sniffed.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?" said Roy calmly into the receiver.
Outside the window, Faust was still woofing angrily. Roy hoped the carrier outside had reached a safe
height in the tree in time.
Joyce was torn between watching the two paramedics assess her
husband and yelling reassurances to Clarence the mail carrier who was glaring death's daggers at her
from the eucalyptus tree in the neighbor's yard. "Just hang on, Mr. McFeely. Jerry's sick. It'll
only be a minute and I'll get out there! I'm so sorry Clarence. Please don't be mad at me...Faust.
Get down!" And she horse whistled piercingly. "Bad boy! You're a very badddd boyyyy!"
The
dog went right on ignoring her, raining showers of foamy slobber all over the ground beneath Clarence's
refuge as he leaped and jumped, trying to clamp a full set of teeth on a pants leg cuff or any
other body part dangling from the flimsy tree.
|
|
|
DeSoto cupped the receiver to cut down the noise surrounding him. "Rampart this is Squad 51, how
do you read?"
Finally, Morton's mellow reply answered him. ##Go ahead, 51.##
Roy filled
in the resident with what he already knew.
Johnny meanwhile, discovered some more medical history
on Jerry from Joyce. "Are you sure about that last part?"
"Yeah. The airforce doc said that
he only had an acute subungual hematoma from getting pinched last week in a hanger door."
"Roy,
did you get that?" Johnny asked.
"Yeah.. I think so... doc did you hear that last bit? An acute
subungual hematoma from one week ago? Whatever that is, we're not finding any signs of cranial or
body bruising on him anywhere. His pressure's 88 over 62." DeSoto reported. "But his pulse and
respirations are normal."
There came a long sigh from the biophone receiver. ##51. Check the
patient's hands. A subungual hematoma is a blood bound fingernail. Your man's blackout could be syncope
if he smashed it again with ..say a hammer. You did mention that he was working with chemical-less
tools. His vital signs and lack of obvious injury fit that pattern. Wake him up with smelling salts
and advise him to visit his family doctor to trephine the nail to release some of that pressure for
pain relief." Morton said firmly with a trace of irritation.
Blushing with embarrassment, Johnny
located the offending implement lying just to the right of the man's waist. He held it up to Roy.
"Oops."
DeSoto soon located the dark maroon colored swollen nail on Jerry's left hand. "So
that's what subungual means." he smirked covering the phone. "10-4, Rampart. Advise a trip to the
family doctor." and he disconnected the line as fast as he could before they both received a lecture
about brushing up on medical terminology.
With an amused florish, Roy broke out an ammonia capsule
and very soon, Jerry was among the world of the living once again. "I think you can manage from
here, Johnny. I'll go check on Clarence to make sure he didn't have a coronary or something waiting
for us to bail him out."
Johnny didn't know what was funnier, the sight of a very beefy air
force pilot cradling his pinky finger in his lap, moaning, or the sight of Roy attempting to cage
the cagey Faust against the picket fence long enough to snatch a grip onto the massive dog's
leather collar so the silver haired mailman could climb safely on down to the street.
----------------------------------------------------------
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|
******************************************************* From : patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent : Thursday, February 3, 2005 3:01 AM Subject : The Nursing Elf..
Johnny and
Roy couldn't get back to the station fast enough. They decided not to spoil their healthy appetites
with gas station candy bars, opting instead to gorge on Dixie's wonderfully exquisite station cooked
meal.
Soon, all the gang were either slumped in chairs or snoring on beds in the bunk room,
trying to digest the food they had practically inhaled like air.
"Geez, you would think firefighters
would know how to feed themselves. What am I? Manna from heaven?" she said of the guys settling
in around her with magazines and sections from the daily newspaper.
"You sure are..." grinned
Cap. "We all harbor a passionate hate for leftovers so we couldn't let your good food go to waste."
"But you fellas ate four whole gallons of Beef Bourgenon!"
"A little padding never hurt any
firefighter. I promise you that we'll burn off the extra weight easily in a couple of days. All it
takes is one three alarm fire to trim a body down in mere hours. Have no fear for our cardiovascular
health. We've been down that road before.." Cap said, glaring at Chet meaningfully.
"Geez,
Cap. When are you gonna let that dates and vitamins diet craziness I once tried working for Morton,
die?" Kelly complained out loud.
|
"When I'm old and gray." replied Hank. Gage opened his lips in a rejoiner for the left wide open
comment from his captain, but Hank beat him to it. "Never mind. You never heard me say the when
part of that last bit. Gage, you just hush."
Johnny grinned and said, "I wasn't gonna say anything
about anything. Besides, all of us already know how you're getting along in years so any further
commentary on that's a moot point."
Cap cleared his throat dangerously.
Roy saved the day."Say,
uh, Cap. Did the paperwork go through on that latest requisition sent in by Marco and I?"
"What
paperwork?"
"The holiday dinner charity form. The one Marco needed approval on in order to
help out his ch--" DeSoto replied.
"Oh that form... already done. The event's tomorrow night and
I'm now ordering all of you to attend. You know where it is. Be there at six o'clock sharp. Bring
a party hat and kazoo for the stroke of midnight everyone. It's gonna be a great time for everybody."
"Am I not invited?" Dixie mused, looking pouty. "I think I've done my fair share for the department."
"Ok,.. you can come." said Chet Kelly teasingly. "Under one stipulation. That you let all of us
do the cooking."
"I hope you fellas remember to bring the stomach pump if that's the case." McCall
teased. "Which way to the head guys? I've forgotten."
|
|
|
Stoker, Lopez, Gage and DeSoto rose to point out the way, each of them giving her directions at the
same time. "The other side of the vehicle bay, straight ahead, and then turn left first door. Go
through the shower room to the stalls." they said at the same time in a jumble.
"The one on
the end's specially made for women.." Johnny said awkwardly, still pointing over his shoulder. He
won only disapproving frowns from the gang for the odd comment.
Dixie rubbed her nose in apparent
confusion. "I don't think I quite got it fellas. You were all talking over each other too much.
Would someone ..be so kind as to show me the way there?"
The guys fell over each other to be the
one to guide her. Soon, everyone accompanied Dixie to the locker room entry door.
Gage was
the first one over the threshold and quickly, Dixie darted forward, grabbed his head in between her
elegant hands, and kissed him full on the mouth.
She quickly did the same thing for the second-in
Roy DeSoto before he caught onto her amourous intentions.
|
Johnny pulled away from McCall's long nailed grip in a scramble. "Whatja do that for?! Ya kissed
me!"
Roy just chuckled good naturedly, rubbing the lipstick off his lips. "Oh, my.... Johnny?
I think we've been thoroughly had."
"Sure you were." shrugged Dixie. "And you had no choice in
the matter, Johnny."
"Oh, really..." Gage chided. "Why is that?" he said in dismay at being
lip covered in ladies' makeup.
Hank cracked up and so did the rest of the guys who strangely,
hadn't stepped over the portal leading to the bathroom's hallway. "Gage...."
"What?!" the Native
American Indian snapped.
"Use your legendary paramedic's skills of observation and look up." Cap
commanded, still laughing.
Johnny and Roy both glanced up and only then did the two of them see
the huge clustered sprig of fresh mistletoe that Dixie had tied there while they had been gone
on their rescue call.
"I did warn you two." Dixie soothed, rubbing off the lipstick stuck on
Johnny's chin.
He waved her away, fully in the wounded male's self consciousness mind bent.
"Cut that out, Dix. I can wash my own face." Johnny fluttered."Now are ya gonna get by me for
the toilets or not?"
"Don't have to. I went earlier. Ciao..." and she left the station through
the yard's rear exit, followed merrily by a scampering well-fed-on-beef-bourgenon stuffed Boot. "See
ya at the party at Headquarters tomorrow night. And captain, I promise to leave the rest of my
mistletoe at home." she grinned cattily. "Thanks for letting me pull one over on Roy and Johnny.
It was fun."
"Any time the mood strikes you." Cap said cheerfully. "I'm sure my men enjoyed
every minute of it."
"Says who?" giggled Roy. "I'm a happily married man." And at the same
time,.."Says who?" moaned Johnny. "I'm a tragically single bachelor."
"My work ....is done.
Happy New Year's fellas." Dixie purred. Then the still Christmas infected imp from Rampart, was gone.
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Who's to say who smiled longer, Cap for getting a joke in enough to score on his paramedics using
Dixie, or Chet, for not being the butt of the preverbial joke this time around.
Gage wiped
that smile off Kelly's face with a single comment as he passed by Chet to go wash his face. Johnny
winked at Roy to pay attention to what he was about to say next so that he could feast fully
on the outcome, too.
"Man is she a great kisser. I still got goose pimples!"
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Click the blooming rose to go to Page Four
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