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   That Latin Flair
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Page Three

"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?"

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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."

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"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."

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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.

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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.

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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.##

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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.

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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.

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"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."

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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.

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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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