The men of Station 51's A-shift had trooped into their crewmate's hospital room late that afternoon. Roy had told them to hold off coming to visit, despite their protests, knowing his partner wouldn't be up for company that morning. Chet had come as well, but was standing in the far corner of the room. He had been somewhat reluctant about the reception his presence would evoke, but Roy wouldn't take no for an answer.

The door to John's room suddenly burst open and the attention turned to the newcomer now standing in the entrance; the anxious blue eyes remained fixated on the man occupying the bed. Her blue jean shorts and white v-neck shirt accentuated the trim athletic body. The long blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail; a few strands hung carelessly framing her face.

"Johnny...Oh my God! Roy called and told me what happened...I came as soon as I could." She let the door shut and made her way over to the side of the bed and took his hand in hers. "How are you? Are you going to be OK?" She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before pulling back to stare with deep concern into his brown eyes.

The dark haired paramedic had a wide smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up at the very sight of her.

"Katie," he murmured under his breath. It took a few moments before he found his voice and could answer.

"I'm alright...just r-really glad to see you," he said as he briefly looked over at his partner and gave him an appreciative grin. John knew he had been pretty out of it after the surgery, and wasn't sure that Roy had understood his request. Roy smiled back and gave him a nod.

The lineman remained in the far corner of the room, but the presence of John's ex-girlfriend, and her obvious concern about his well-being was a flicker of hope that his future at Station 51 might not be hanging in the balance after all.

"I-I guess everything is gonna be ok?" Chet stated with a look on his face that showed both his relief and confusion at the scene unfolding before him. "We can all get back to normal...no harm done?"

"What was that Kelly?" Johnny replied, reluctantly pulling his lips away from the second kiss Katie had given him to respond to his crewmate.

"I said I guess everything is ok now and back to normal," he repeated, "Katie isn't mad at you anymore." Chet too had looked over at the senior paramedic and bestowed upon him a grateful smile, believing that he was responsible for saving the lineman's backside on this one. Roy folded his arms and leaned against the wall and shook his head, a sly grin came to his lips. Chet looked around the room and saw similar expressions.

"Ah yea…about that," John replied, "Here's the thing…she uh…she never was."

"What? What are you talking about?" he stammered giving him a dumbfounded look, "I-I was there Gage...she stormed out of the station saying she was breaking up with you?"

"Chet," John said as he released Katie's hand to adjust himself into a more comfortable position. "Do you remember that morning in the kitchen when I told you your toes were right on the line and you better not cross it…or me?"

"Yea," he answered slowly.

"Well, ya didn't just cross it…you leapt right over it. My girlfriend," John stated with a proud smirk, "Is not only very precocious and incredibly beautiful…she is also a damn good actress."

The little blonde turned and gave the lineman a conspirators grin.

"When Katie called me earlier that day saying she wanted to visit," John explained, "I figured I could pretty much count on you doing or saying something stupid to her; despite the Cap's deterrent of assigning you my chores."

"Uh, sorry Cap," the young man said glancing at his boss, "No offense intended."

"None taken John, I totally understand."

"So," he continued, "We had it all set up. If you were your typical moronic self, Katie would pretend to be mad and break up with me. After she left, I met with Cap and Roy in the office…to let them in on what was going on. Roy told Mike and Marco when you weren't around."

The stocky Irishman stared back at his injured crewmate in utter shock.

"Are you…are you kidding me?" he nearly shouted. "It absolutely ruined my days off. I felt like the world's biggest jerk! On top of that, after you three met in his office, Cap didn't say a word to me...not a word! I didn't know if I was suspended...getting transferred...or that you asked for a transfer...and I would NEVER hear the end of it from the guys."

A crooked grin spread across John's face, "Kelly, you are the world's biggest jerk. The title is well deserved and you earn my vote every time." The others in the room let out an audible chuckle, and nodded in agreement.

"Listen, you got off easy," he said, "I was ready to let this thing go on for weeks. Katie however, also has a generous heart and talked me into letting you stew just on our days off. I was going to tell ya, sometime during our next shift, that it was all a set up."

"So does that mean, "Chet said with an exasperated look on his face, "That you're still gonna ask Katie to marry you?"

The jaws of everyone in the room dropped open in surprise, which was quickly followed by an uncomfortable stare from each set of eyes now intently trained upon John Gage and the girl standing at his side. The look on the young man's face...said it all.

"CHET," Roy uttered through clenched teeth.

"Well done Kelly...ya TWIT!" Hank Stanley thought as he shot his lineman an irritated look.

"Open mouth...insert foot," Marco muttered loud enough for all to hear. Mike said nothing, but looked at Chet and shook his head. Katie stared in momentary confusion at the group before her…and then turned to face Johnny.

The dark haired paramedic froze in his place. He had kind of veered from their original plan and done some improvising, which he felt at the time, seemed like a great idea. John had privately congratulated himself on his performance believing it could have earned him an academy award. Now, as he nervously chewed on the inside of his mouth, he was thinking he should have left well enough alone.

The waiting group had a difficult time ascertaining what the young man wanted to do more; disappear into thin air, or strangle Chet until his eyes popped out of their sockets.

John really cared about Katie…a lot. If he were being honest, he was falling in love with her and enjoying every second of it. This time it was…different. He just wasn't sure if he was ready for marriage, and at this very moment, he felt the old insecurities edging their way into his thoughts.

"Back away...get some distance…put the brakes on this relationship."

Man…what was Katie going to think? If he told her he was serious about the comment, and he wasn't ready, it would ruin everything. But if he said it was part of the joke, would she be hurt and break up with him for real? "Chet Kelly is a dead man. There isn't a foot on this planet big enough to fit into that cavernous hole beneath that stupid mustache of his." John Gage thought in aggravation.

Katie continued to stare at the young paramedic watching the play of emotions and almost "reading" the conversation taking place in his head. She gave him a winning smile before turning back to confront his outspoken crewmate.

"Chet" she began as she reclaimed John's hand in hers, "He only said that as part of the plan…to maximize on your misery and guilt." She shrugged her shoulders, not the least bit sorry at her bluntness. He deserved it for putting her guy on the spot like that. "Johnny and I have only been together for about five weeks…and we are enjoying just getting to know one another. He is a great guy, and we are in no hurry to rush into any marriage."

John relaxed as Katie gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and then leaned down and turned to whispered in his ear, "No pressure Johnny. Let's just enjoy what we have…and see what happens. Ok with you?"

A look of relief appeared on his face, "And I can't wait to see what happens; especially when I get outta here," he whispered back as he gingerly pulled her onto the bed and unashamedly began kissing her. He heard the shifting of feet and several people cleared their throats at the "awkward" moment. Well, awkward for them, because at that precise moment, John Gage couldn't have cared less if the entire Department, including the Chief Engineer, had been standing in his room.

Three days later, Drew Burke was moved from the Intensive Care Unit and into a regular room. They had all been relieved to find out that, while it was going to be a slow process, he was going to make a full recovery. John was scheduled to be released the next day to go home with the DeSoto's for a few days and recuperate. He had been pestering Brackett to see his friend, but the man firmly had told him no; not while Drew was in the ICU. In John's mind...there would be no more waiting. The fact the he was now in a regular room was a green light as far as he was concerned. At least that was going to be his excuse if he got busted. He knew Drew was weak, but he wanted to see him, if only for a few minutes. He eased himself out of bed and shuffled slowly towards the door. He had his left arm wrapped protectively around his side as the right pulled open the door. The young paramedic had a fleeting moment of déjà vu as he stole a look down the corridor. He located an unoccupied wheelchair just a short distance from his door, and made his way forward, confiscating the transport. He was getting stronger, but didn't want to jeopardize his progress which would necessitate his stay at Rampart be extended.

John lowered himself into the chair and sighed in relief as he began to make his way to the elevator. His keen eyes alert for anyone who might thwart his plans. He knew when Drew had been moved...and what room he was in. It paid off to have a lot of contacts who willing could provide him with the information he needed. He reached the elevator and pushed himself in as the doors opened. He hit the button for the third floor and waited anxiously. An Orderly eyed the unaccompanied patient suspiciously, and John gave him a confident smile.

"Hey...how's it goin?" he nodded at the man. "Just getting a change of scenery ya know...following doctors' orders."

The young man nodded back, and John's hands hit the wheels, moving them forward, as soon as the doors parted. He checked the numbers on the little rectangular plaques and stopped when he came to room 304. He listened intently outside the door, but heard no sound coming from within and slowly pushed it open and made his way inside.

John saw his friend lying in the bed nearest the window and felt a sense of relief wash over him. It had been a close call; to close according to Brackett. The second bed stood empty, which suited him just fine. He really wasn't in the mood to make small talk with some stranger. A white sweater was lying at the foot of the bed and John figured it to be Pam's. He wondered briefly where she might be. A host of flowers from various well-wishers adorned the room. As he wheeled himself closer, a small object standing on the bedside table in front of a glass vase caught his eye and he shook his head; Drew had been right. A police officer gnome, in full uniform, with a radio in his hand stood stoically facing the man in the bed.

"Well I guess Harrison was able to find out where to buy these little guys after all." he thought with a laugh.

He quietly positioned himself next to Drew and leaned back in the wheelchair watching his friend. Both Harrison and Foster had come to the hospital earlier in the day and had stopped in to visit with him. They were good guys, and John had been glad to see them. As he sat, he recalled their conversation which had eventually turned to the shooting...and also the tragic death of Joe Thompson.

John had looked back and forth between the two officers and could see the emotions they were trying very hard to keep in check as they chatted with him. He had swallowed hard and clenched his jaw tight before trying to explain…to apologize. "I-I'm so sorry...about Joe," he had told them "I should have gotten better control of the guy's hands; used my body right from the beginning. It's all my fau..."

Harrison had refused to let him finish. "John, don't even say it," he had stated in a firm voice, "This in NO way was your fault. This situation never should have even happened. Do you understand? Drew had initially thought he was making a routine traffic stop…and it turned to shit in a matter of minutes. He couldn't just let these guys go, and was trying to keep an eye on them until the rest of us got there. I know Drew never wanted to put you in harm's way, but sometimes circumstances go beyond our control. You did everything possible...and more. No one blames you. No one."

The dark haired paramedic had shrugged his shoulders. Harrison wasn't entirely correct...HE blamed himself. And Thompson's wife and children probably blamed him as well...how could they not?

"John...listen to me," Foster had replied as he stood up and moved closer to the bed. "Harrison is right. Had you moved your body on top of him, you probably would have just been shot sooner; don't second guess yourself. You saved Drew and yourself, and some of the rest of us who were rolling up on the scene who might have also been killed, or at the very least shot. Please man, don't do this to yourself...alright?"

"Yea…sure. Alright," he had answered in an unconvincing voice.

"I don't know if you're...interested," Harrison had continued hesitatingly, "But Joe's funeral is the day after tomorrow. We wanted to let you know in case you...you wanted to go. Drew doesn't know yet; about what happened. The doctors wanted to wait until he got a little stronger before telling him. Regardless, he's not going to be able to attend, but Pam is coming with my wife and I. You are welcome to join us...if you're up to it of course."

John had told them he would think about it. He really did want to go and pay his respects, but he was struggling with the situation, and was undecided whether attending the funeral would make things better...or worse. The blond haired man lying in the bed began to moan slightly, and the sound pulled John back from his thoughts.

"Drew?" he called softly, "Can you hear me? It's John."

The young police officer's eyes moved beneath the close lids...and then slowly opened. He blinked several times in rapid succession before focusing in on the man before him. He gave a weak smile and tried to open his mouth.

"Hey hey...don't try and talk," John insisted. "I just wanted to come and see ya for a few minutes. The last thing I need is Brackett coming down on me for impeding your recuperation." He grinned down at his friend.

"Man," the dark haired paramedic said with a shake of his head, "We sure do know how to find trouble my friend. I wasn't exactly expecting to be faced with the situation we found ourselves in."

Drew cautiously nodded his head in agreement. "Y-you...o-ok?" he mouthed.

"Yea, buddy, I'm alright. I-I want to thank you...for what you did. I know wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for you."

"Mmmee either," he whispered, "Thanks."

The young officer looked somewhat guilty remembering it was his suggestion that John ride with him in the first place. Sergeant Taylor and Pam had also filled him in on the details of what John had done after he had been shot. He knew without a doubt that if it weren't for his friend's quick actions he wouldn't be alive.

The dark haired paramedic said nothing as he reached out and touched Drew's shoulder. Suddenly the sound of the gunshot...struggling hands wrapped around a weapon...and the body of Joe Thompson hitting the ground invaded his memory with such realistic detail, his hand involuntarily squeezed Drew's shoulder hard in response. The injured officer winced at the touch and looked with surprised eyes at his friend's face.

"John," he whispered.

"Johnny?" the young officer whispered as loud as he could when he received no reaction from the man next to him.

Hearing Drew's voice jarred him back from his thoughts and he immediately released his grip. John pushed the images from his head and quickly changed the subject. Drew needed people around him to be supportive and positive. He didn't need to know, or be worrying about, the reoccurring thoughts that kept creeping into his mind.

"I think," John said trying to make his voice sound casual, "That we can probably drop our deliberations about who has the more dangerous job and agree they both have their benefits...and definitely their risks."

Drew relaxed and once again very cautiously nodded his head in agreement.

"So" he continued, "I guess we will have to figure out something else to banter on about and make your beautiful wife crazy," John said with a half-smile as he spied the red headed woman out of the corner of his eye. She had been standing in the doorway watching the two of them.

"I have a suggestion," Pam offered with a devious grin as she made her way into the room. "How about...married life?"

She laughed at the expression on the young man's face as she approached the wheelchair. She leaned down wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, and proceeded to kiss the top of his head. Her tired face showed definite indications of the hell she had been through the past few days, but the hazel eyes also conveyed her unspoken words of gratitude and relief. A smile came to Drew's lips indicating he agreed with his wife.

"Well, there is just one small problem with that...I'm not married," John replied.

"Good point...so maybe that needs to change," she said as she let him go and moved over to sit on the bed next to her husband. She took his hand in hers, and being mindful of the IV, began to lovingly stroke his arm.

John rolled his eyes and gave both Drew and Pam a mischievous look. He knew he was pushing his luck time wise and needed to get back to his room. The young man wheeled himself towards the door and then stopped abruptly, giving them a backwards glance.

"Ya know" he said reaching for the handle and pulling it open, "That's something I just may have to give some thought too...see you guys later," he said in an even voice as he disappeared through the door.

John Gage stood in the guest bedroom of the DeSoto home where he had been staying since his release from the hospital. He reached over and picked up the suit jacket off the bed and carefully pulled it on and then adjusted his tie. He had decided to attend Joe Thompson's funeral after all and Roy, being Roy, had not been too crazy about the idea. The older man had expressed concern that John physically wasn't up to it yet, and Joanne had echoed the sentiment. Brackett, thankfully, knew nothing about it. He was mildly surprised his friend had not threatened to leak this news to the good doctor, knowing that would have put an end to the debate right there. Deep down, John knew that Roy was probably right...again. But this was something he felt he had to do. He recalled the look on Drew's face when the young man finally heard the news of his fellow officer's death. The dark haired paramedic sat down on the bed, tired by both the physical and mental exertion he was putting himself through. He couldn't tell for sure which one was worse.

Roy had said his peace, and then knew he needed to back off and let John make up his own mind. He had offered to go along, with the intention of at least being able to keep a close eye on his young friend, but John told him it wasn't necessary. Katie had mentioned that a lot of officers including her father would be attending, and she would go with him...if he wanted her too.

John had thought about that and accepted her offer. It felt...right.

The doorbell rang and Joanne got up to answer it. She opened the door and saw Katie standing there on the front step; her blue eyes shining brightly. The blonde hair was pinned back away from her face, and the rest cascaded gracefully down her shoulders and back. She was wearing a simple black dress, a strand of pearls, and diamond stud earrings.

"John Gage...is a very lucky man. And I hope he has the sense enough this time to realize it," she thought as she smiled.

"Hi Joanne, it's so nice to see you again," she said.

"Hi Katie, it's very nice to see you too. Why don't you come in?" she replied as she opened the door wider. The younger woman stepped inside and together, the two of them made their way into the kitchen where Roy was seated at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

"Hey there," he greeted her, "Why don't you sit down. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks Roy, I'm fine," she said as she sat down at the table next him to wait. Roy placed the cup back on the table and started to get up, "I'll go tell Johnny your here...I think he was almost ready."

"Honey just stay put...I can go and get him," Joanne replied. The blond haired man watched as his wife turned around and headed out of the room. He sat back down and looked at the girl next to him; grateful for a few moments to speak privately with her.

"Katie," he began in a low voice, "I have to be honest and say that I have some reservations about John going to this funeral...for a number of reasons. I think he has it in his head that he has to go; on Drew's behalf. I can also tell that a part of him is still assuming the blame for Thompson's death and..."

"But it wasn't his fault Roy...it...it just happened." she said earnestly. "No one thinks there is anything more he could have done."

"Listen Katie, I know my partner…and how he thinks and internalizes these kinds of things. Most of us would probably have some degree of guilt feelings if we were in his shoes, playing the "what if" game, thinking the outcome could have been different. Johnny is a master at that; trust me. It can take him a little longer than most to come to terms with something like this. I plan on talking to him again, but I'm just worried the emotions of this funeral are going to fuel those guilty feelings even further. My other concern," he added with a quick glance at the doorway, "Is I really don't believe he is physically up for this. I already told him so, and I think he knows it as well, but John has already made up his mind and is adamant about being there. I'm going to respect his decision, but will you do me a favor and just keep an eye on him...make sure he doesn't overdo it?"

Katie saw the look of trepidation on the older man's face. "I understand, and yes, if I get the slightest feeling that something isn't right, I will bring him back immediately."

"Ok, but he can be pretty stubborn at times so..."

Katie cut him off with a glint in her eye, "Yea, well so can I Roy…so-can-I."

He laughed out loud just as his partner and wife entered the room.

"What's so funny?" John replied as he started looking back and forth between the two, and then his eyes did a double take and came back to gaze upon the girl before him.

"It's nothing Junior," Roy exclaimed with smirk, as he caught the expression on his friend's face. "I have a feeling you will find out soon enough," he thought to himself. This relationship was going to be fun to watch, no doubt about that.

Katie and John left the house and walked to her car. As they got close, she hurried ahead of him and went to get the passenger's side door open.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be doing that for you…not the other way around," he said.

"Well, not today," she replied. "You have not been cleared to drive, so you might as well just get used to it for a while."

The dark haired paramedic sighed and proceeded to lower himself into the car, pulling the door shut. Katie slid into the driver's seat and started up the engine. John looked back towards the house and spotted a couple of blond heads, and two sets of blue eyes, peering through the front living room window watching them. He smiled and offered a good-bye wave which the DeSoto children enthusiastically returned. Jennifer suddenly popped up and put her little hand to her mouth and blew him a kiss.

John's smiled broadened. He truly adored those kids, and at times really envied his partner and the life he had made for himself. John knew the family was not rolling in money, but they were happy. Roy had a wonderful wife, great kids, a job he loved…and of course, him as a partner and best friend. John couldn't help himself and laughed inwardly at his last thought.

Katie glanced over at the man seated next to her and wondered what was running through his mind. At the moment he seemed pretty content, and she wondered if Roy may have been mistaken about John's mindset.

"Oh hey," he replied as the house and kids disappeared from sight and he turned to look at Katie, "I forgot to find out from Harrison where they were holding the service...I hope you know where we are supposed to go."

"It's ok, I got the address from my dad…it's not too far," she replied. "They are starting the procession from the funeral home and, according to my dad, it's going to be pretty big. He said at last count they were expecting well over a hundred vehicles. I figured it would be easier if we just went directly to the church." John nodded his head in agreement.

Twenty-five minutes later, Katie read the sign for Cordoba Street and slowed down, flipping on the blinker to make the right turn.

"Joanne invited me for dinner this Sunday," she stated as she continued down the road, "And I told her I would love to come. I asked what I could bri…"

"Johnny?" she stated when she saw the look on his face "What is it? What's the matter?"

The dark haired paramedic stared straight ahead.

"No," he uttered softly under his breath. "I-don't-believe-it. Of all the churches in this County…it had to be THIS one?"

"What is it?" Katie repeated "Have you been here before?" she asked as she entered the parking lot and drove up close to the entrance of the church so John wouldn't have to walk to far.

John craned his neck to stare up at the familiar large Cross mounted on the steeple. He had an instant flash back to the harrowing rescue he had experienced with Harold just a mere seven days ago.

"Yea," he replied with a heavy sigh, "I have been here before."

"Didn't you like it?" she asked not quite understanding his reaction.

"Well," he said "Let's just say it isn't a place that exactly brings back a flood of fond memories."

"Oh…I-I'm sorry. Do...do you want to leave?"

"No, it's alright" he said when he saw the look on her face. He attempted a smile. "I will explain later...ok?"

"Are you sure?"

He turned to see the flashing red lights of the lead squad car moving slowly down the street; and directly behind it...a black hearse. The vehicles turned, one by one, into the parking lot. John gazed down the block and the line of flashing lights was seemingly endless.

"Yes," he told her, "I'm sure."

Katie led John over to one of the benches in front of the building and insisted he sit down. He started to protest, but upon seeing the "Roy-like" determination fixed upon her face, he changed his mind. She gave him an encouraging grin and sat down next to him, placing her hand gently on his thigh. They watched together as the vehicles continued to pour into the parking lot, and soon the sidewalk was overflowing with people who had now exited their cars and descended upon the church.

The police officers, dressed in their Class A uniforms, began lining up along both sides of the long walkway creating a path for the officer's casket to be carried through. John's eyes scanned the crowd and he quickly identified Thompson's widow. She too was wearing all black. Her short dark hair blew gently in the breeze, and her hands were clenched tightly around the hands of two young boys who appeared to be only a year or two older than Chris DeSoto.

The trio turned and John caught a glimpse of their faces. Hers was a mask of courage…attempting to cover up the inexpressible pain she was going through. The boys, he noticed, were identical twins; right down to the expressions displayed on their innocent faces. John quickly picked up on the grief, but they also seemed lost and terrified at the activity occurring around them, and clung desperately to their mother.

The dark haired paramedic's stomach turned. Katie felt the muscles of his leg tense up as his anxiety increased. She gently moved her hand back and forth, offering comfort and reassurance as she stared intently at his face trying to think of the right words to say. She didn't notice the tall uniformed man in his late forties approach them.

"Hi Honey," he greeted as he bent down to place a kiss on the side of her face, "I see you two made here ok."

"Oh...Hi Dad," she responded, "Yes, we didn't have any trouble at all."

"John, it's good to see you again," the man stated reaching his hand out, "How are you feeling? Katie here has been really worried about you."

The young man rose to his feet, attempting to clear the lump he felt rising in his throat, as he shook the proffered hand.

"Commander Larson. Sir, it's good to see you too. I'm uh...doing a lot better. Thank you."

"Good...glad to hear it," the man replied with a nod of his head as he released John's hand. He then turned and eyed the hearse, watching the casket as it was carefully being removed from the vehicle. He inhaled a deep breath, held it a moment, and then let it out.

"I have attended too many of these in my career," he said quietly under his breath as he watched the Honor Guard fall into place, "And it never gets any easier."

He turned back to his daughter and John, giving them a tight smile.

"Well, I better go get in line with the others. I will see both of you a little later." He gave his daughter another quick kiss and they watched him walk away and take his place among the ranks. The officers were called to attention and the order to present arms was given. The group moved as one as every hand snapped into a salute as the body of Joe Thompson was carried between the two lines of officers.

The men remained completely still. The only movements were the tears that rolled freely down some of their faces as they said their silent good-byes, and paid tribute to their brother who had given the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. John and Katie stood alongside the other attendees and his eyes followed the row of men, looking at each one of them. He too, on more than one occasion, had been standing in formation at the funeral of some of his fellow fire fighters. John knew, without a doubt, what thoughts and feelings they were experiencing at this moment. Their heartache and sense of loss was almost palpable.

The casket disappeared inside the church. The men were released and sought out their spouses, children, and other friends who were gathered nearby. Hugs were exchanged and hands clasped together, to provide both physical and emotional support, before they slowly filed inside the building. Katie turned to look at the man she had come to care so much about in such a short period of time. She reached out her hand, which John took willingly, as they too made their way inside and found a seat; waiting patiently for the service to begin.

An hour later, John and Katie exited out of the front door of the church as many of Drew's shift mates, including Sergeant Taylor, spotted him and began to walk over.

"John," the Sergeant replied, "It was good of you to come."

The others, including Harrison and Foster, crowded around him and either shook his hand or clapped him on the back. Pam Burke also walked up to the group, accompanied by a tall blonde haired woman he didn't know. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him an affectionate hug.

"How are you holding up?" she said softly.

"I'm hanging in there…how about you?"

"Same…hanging in there. Drew wants to see you. Do you think maybe you could stop by the hospital in the next day or so?" she said.

"Sure Pam...absolutely. Is he ok...anything wrong?" John asked worriedly.

"No, the doctors say he is doing well; all things considered. But he's struggling with this too Johnny...it's just so hard."

"Yea I know. I will be there for him...whatever he needs."

She smiled. "Just remember what I said though; you need to take care of yourself too...ok?"

He nodded.

The group chatted briefly and the young paramedic's eyes did a double take as he saw Thompson's widow making her way towards them with her sons in tow. Sergeant Taylor saw her approach and completed the introductions.

"Susan, this is John Gage. He is a close friend of Drew Burkes and was doing a ride along with him the night...um, that night," he said in a tight voice.

The dark haired woman offered her hand, "It's nice to meet you Mr. Gage. Thank you for coming," she said softly.

John shook her hand.

"Mrs. Thompson, I'm so very sorry for...y-your loss. I only met your husband that...that night. I-I'm...sorry," he finished lamely, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded in understanding and looked at the people around her. "Joe really loved the job. It...it was all he ever dreamed of doing. The guys often got on him about running late for work...but mostly it was because he was spending time with the kids; the three of them j-just loved sports. Joe coached them in f-football." She gave the boys a sad look as they stared at the ground. "Joe and I both knew the r-risks in his line of work, and were hopeful that he would have a full and rewarding c-career, and then retire so we could spend some time together and and...t-travel."

Her eyes filled with tears and one escaped, sliding down her cheek. She brought a tissue up to her face and dabbed it carefully away.

"Pardon me...I'm sssorry," she said in a choked voice.

"Susan," an older gentleman stated putting his arm around her shoulders, "Honey, we need to get going."

She nodded a farewell to the group and allowed herself to be led away; the two young boys still firmly by her side.

Katie and John were just finishing saying their good-byes as Pastor Arthur Hill caught sight of them. The recognition was apparent on his face, and he maneuvered his way through the crowd until he was standing in front of the dark haired paramedic.

"My dear young man," he began "I did not expect to see you again quite so soon! And certainly wish it was not under these most difficult circumstances. May I ask...were you friends with the young officer?"

"No. Umm, not really. I only met him...once," John replied.

"I see," the pastor nodded before he turned to look at Katie. "And is this lovely young girl with you?" he said with a gleam in his pale blue eyes.

"Oh, yes...I'm sorry," he replied, "Pastor Hill, this is my girlfriend, Katie Larson."

"It's such a pleasure to meet you my dear!" He stated shaking her hand enthusiastically. "You must be terribly proud of this man; the rescue he performed here last week was nothing short of miraculous. I don't think I would have believed it had I not witnessed it with my own eyes."

Katie cocked her head to the side with a questioning look on her face. The observant pastor didn't miss a thing.

"He didn't tell you? Oh my dear is was absolutely horrifying! A teenage boy got himself in quite a predicament indeed. He had climbed up," the pastor pointed skyward at the Cross as Katie's eyes followed, "And was stuck at the very top of the steeple. John put himself in an extremely perilous situation to help that poor boy...and saved his life."

John's gaze had drifted over to the casket which was now being carefully loaded back into the waiting vehicle and shook his head. "Too bad I wasn't able to do the same for Joe," he said quietly under his breath; not really intending for anyone else to hear.

But the pastor did hear...and looked at the individual before him. Arthur Hill, without knowing the full details of why the young paramedic was in attendance, picked up on the fact that he was going through a difficult and very personal struggle.

"John" he replied sincerely, "It is unfortunate that we are not always able to save everyone; all we can do…is our best."

"In this case pastor "my best" wasn't nearly good enough," he answered despondently, "And it's just hard sometimes...to understand...you know? To try and make sense of it all."

The elderly man nodded his head. "We often spend much of our time seeking to understand situations...for which there is no explanation. It is an effort in futility; however it never seems to stifle that desire," he replied. "I believe it is good to contemplate things about life, but at some point, a person must learn to let go and take the next step...which is acceptance. That is something Harold's mother has finally come to understand. Even though the circumstances of her life remain the same, she has moved on and taken that important step. And with acceptance, she has finally been able to achieve…peace."

John looked back at the clergyman who was now giving him a reassuring smile. The elderly man reached out and put a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. "My son, know that the work you do, that I believe you were called to do, is important and life-changing for so many people. Remember that; even during the difficult times when you cannot find the answers you seek…Yes?"

The young man looked into the pastor's face. "Yes…I-I will try and remember that."

He gave John two quick pats and then reached over to grab Katie's hands in his. "Now, I really must be going. My dear, it was truly wonderful to meet you," he exclaimed.

"It was very nice to meet you as well Pastor Hill," Katie replied as the man released her hands and turned to go, hurrying as fast as his legs would allow, towards the parking lot.

"John," Katie said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Please listen to me for a minute." She looked into his face and waited until she felt she had his full attention. "All of us have someone that we trust implicitly to help us through the difficult times in our lives. Times we are confused, frustrated, and struggling, as the pastor said, to make sense of what we are going through. I hope," she said seriously, "That our relationship can get to that level and that maybe someday I can be that person for you. But right now...I don't feel that I fit into that role." She continued to stare into his handsome face and gave him a small smile. "I think we both know who does. And I think you need to talk to him, and get whatever is bothering you off your chest."

John looked down at her and at that moment he realized how fortunate he was to have had this amazing woman enter into his life.

"Katie," he said softly as he looked intently into her eyes.

"Yes?"

He leaned down and his cheek brushed against hers as his lips reached their destination and he whispered gently in her ear. A beautiful smile lit up her face as he spoke. When he finished he pulled back and returned the smile.

The kiss that followed was both tender and sweet.

Katie pulled into the driveway of the DeSoto residence later that afternoon and noted that John had pretty much exhausted his last reserves and fell asleep in the car. She hoped that Roy wouldn't be upset with her. By the time she had made her way around to the passenger's side of the car, the blond haired paramedic was already coming down the walkway; Joanne was not far behind. She hid her grin and kept the comment that was on the tip of her tongue to herself.

"How is he? How did it go?" Roy asked trying to sound nonchalant.

"We took a pass on going out to eat with everyone," she said, "I thought it might be a little too much. I don't know if he is more hungry or tired. He's pretty wiped out...as you can tell. The funeral was hard at first. I saw what you meant about him taking on that burden of guilt...and not wanting to let it go. The pastor of the church recognized him and I heard about the rescue you guys had there last week. It all made sense as to John's reaction when we arrived at the church."

"The service was held at...at...what was the name again...Holy Cross?" Roy replied.

Katie nodded her head up and down.

"Wow, I bet John wasn't to thrilled to be back there so soon. That rescue was a real rough one. We were extremely fortunate that didn't end in total disaster."

"I think that pastor is a very perceptive man," Katie remarked "In the few minutes we spoke, he seemed to pick up on the fact that John was at odds with himself. Anyways, he said some things that, I think, kind of hit home with him. He definitely was given some food for thought. I also got the feeling that there is something else on John's mind, but I don't know what it is...and didn't want to press him. So don't be surprised if he is looking to talk to you and get your feedback."

Roy nodded, "Thanks for the heads up Katie," he said.

"Are you going to come on Sunday for dinner?" Jo interjected, "I'm making a pot roast."

"Yes, that would be great," Katie answered, "I will call you tomorrow if that's okay and find out what I can bring. I'm going to let this guy get some sleep and go meet up with my family. I would love for him to come along...but I don't want to push it. I think he would do it for me, but that isn't what would be best for him right now."

"Katie, you are well on your way to understanding the complexities that make up John Gage. Welcome...and strap in. It can be a bumpy ride," Roy said with a laugh. "Now, I think we need to extricate him from your car and get him inside. He proceeded to open the door and reached in nudging his partner.

"Come on Junior...you are going to lie down and get some rest. Jo will have something for you to eat when ya wake up."

John opened his eyes and nodded his head. He really wasn't that hungry...and wanted some time alone. He slowly got out of the car and turned to Katie, pulling her into his arms "Thank you for going with me," he said sincerely, "It was really nice having you there."

She stood up on her toes and gave him a parting kiss. "I'm glad you wanted me to be there with you. Now, go and get some sleep and I will see you on Sunday."

John had closed his eyes on the car ride back from the funeral. He knew Katie had assumed he was asleep, which was fine with him. He was tired, but that wasn't the only reason he chose to feign sleep. Everyone kept telling him, trying to reassure him, that Thompson's death wasn't his fault. But they didn't know...everything. Up until now, he had just tried to come to grips with it on his own; and it wasn't working.

As firemen, none of them were strangers to seeing people die. Sometimes it was an unknown victim they were attempting to rescue...sometimes it was a fellow firefighter. Regardless, it was never easy and, as far as John Gage was concerned, something a person never built up an immunity too. Witnessing another human being take their last breath was an indescribable experience that left a profound mark. He, and so many others like him, willingly did this job, knowing the risks, and the unavoidable "marks" they would repeatedly subject themselves too. Yet despite it all, he could never see himself doing anything else. He thought back to what Drew had said about facing adversity and how he perceived it...and more importantly how he coped. Drew Burke had come to understand what many people in their lifetime quite possibly never would. However for John, the mark Joe Thompson's death had left on him was different. Katie was right; he needed to talk to the person that really knew HIM; someone who could relate and understand what he was feeling...and why.

The man who always had his back...no matter what.

It was Sunday morning and John Gage slowly opened his eyes to a darkened room. He blinked several times before turning to take a look at the clock which stood ticking quietly on the table next to the bed. It was 5:12am. He rolled back and proceeded to place both hands behind his head as he tried to close his eyes and go back to sleep. He laid there listening to the clock and then let out a frustrated groan and threw the covers back. John swung his long legs around and planted his feet on the ground and stood up. He grabbed the t-shirt that had been haphazardly thrown at the foot of the bed, and pulled it over his bare chest. He felt along the floor with his feet until he located his slippers and shoved them on. He opened the door and headed towards the bathroom, making a quick stop before reaching his final destination; the familiar lounge chair on Roy's deck.

He sat down in the chair and laid his hands across his chest. This was a slight chill in the morning air, but it didn't bother him in the least. John looked out across the DeSoto's well maintained yard.

"Well, the scenery has changed," he said to himself, "It's too bad my thoughts haven't."

Roy had heard the sounds coming from the first floor and knew his partner was awake. He had been waiting for Johnny to approach him and tell him what was on his mind...but the young man had yet to do so. Roy got out of bed and grabbed his clothes, dressing in the darkness. He quietly opened the door and slipped into the hallway closing it softly again behind him. He padded down the stairs and looked around the living room. In the pre-dawn light, his eyes came upon his friend sitting on the deck. Roy made his way to the slider and pushed it open. He sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"Hey Junior...what got you out of bed so early?"

John turned to stare at his friend. "Roy...I'm sorry. Did I make too much noise and wake you up?"

"Naw, Jennifer had a nightmare or something and woke me up about an hour ago. She went right back to sleep. I didn't…so there is nothing to be sorry for." They sat in silence for several minutes before John finally spoke.

"Roy, I need to talk to you about something...something that's been b-bothering me," John began.

"Go ahead," he answered in what he hoped was an encouraging voice, "I'm listening."

"You know, "John continued slowly, "Everyone has been telling me that Joe Thompson's death...wasn't my fault."

Roy fought the urge to launch into a lengthy explanation, attempting to reassure his friend, yet again, that it wasn't. Clearly John knew how they all felt, and the words thus far had not altered his perception. He had heard his friend's account of the incident, but felt an important part was left out, and he was hoping to finally find out what it was...and why his partner was holding on to this guilt.

"When I kicked the car door and the kid flew back," John began, "I knew that alone wasn't going to be enough. I-I didn't want anyone else to get hurt so I jumped out of the car and was going to try and hold him down until the other officers got there. The gun had flown out of the kid's hand...but only went a few yards. He got to it before me, and had his hands closed in around the handle."

Roy nodded his head. This much he already knew.

John looked away. "I-I reached out and initially had his wrists...but he was still able to move the gun around so I moved my hands up until they were...on top of his. I heard the squads coming to a screeching halt...voices yelling...and Eddie shifted his focus from me...to…to something else. He had raised the gun in the direction of the person approaching us and I felt him trying to move his index finger from the rail of the gun...and onto the trigger. I t-tried to s-stop him...and...and..."

Roy was paying close attention to his partner's every word, and was trying to visually picture what he was describing. He suddenly pieced it together and bolted upright his chair, staring at his friend. "Johnny...what are you trying to say?" he asked, searching for the confirmation to his thought.

The dark haired paramedic stared straight ahead of him.

Roy swallowed hard, "John...look at me." The young man slowly swiveled his head to the side until he was facing his friend.

He stared intently into the dark eyes as he asked the question. "Are you trying to say it was your finger that was on the trigger of the gun?"

Silence filled the air.

"It all happened so f-fast," he whispered as he turned away and brought both hands to his face, rubbing them up and down in frustration. "I was trying to get his finger off the trigger…and I think that maybe my finger was…was somehow was on top of his? I looked up in the direction the barrel was pointed, and then the trigger went back and I felt the gun go off…and I saw a body fall to the ground." John took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He almost gagged on the words that followed. "Roy, Joe was only a few yards from us. I not only saw him get shot...I-I think that maybe...maybe I may have helped fire the weapon that...that killed him."

The blond haired paramedic expelled the breath he had been holding and looked sympathetically at his friend.

"Johnny, I'm glad you finally told me what has been eating away at you. I just wish you would have said something a hell of a lot sooner. You have basically talked yourself into believing this was your fault. Listen, even with what you just shared with me, it doesn't change anything...not a damn thing. You did NOT kill Joe Thompson! You were trying to prevent it. You said your hands were on top of the guys. That kid deliberately pointed that weapon at Thompson and he intentionally put his finger on the trigger and pulled it. HE murdered that officer John…not you. I'm not trying to minimize what you went through, and I get why you feel the way you do...but the fact remains. This was not-your-fault and I'm going to do whatever it takes to make you understand that."

John continued to stare at his friend. He had expected, once he said it out loud, that Roy would be shocked and agree that his actions contributed to the officer's death. He had not known, until this very moment, how much this had truly been affecting him, and the relief he felt at sharing his feelings of doubt with the person he trusted implicitly. John also knew his friend, and Roy called things as he saw them. He would tell John the truth...no matter what. The dark haired paramedic let out a deep sigh, and for the first since the incident, felt a bit of what the pastor had described. To move on, however slow that may be, to the next level...acceptance.

The four adults had finished their dinner and now sat contently around the dining room table Sunday evening, sipping coffee and nibbling on Jo's homemade cookies. Chris and Jennifer were perched on the couch next to each other in the adjacent room watching a television program. Jennifer's head rested peacefully on her brother's shoulder. She was tired.

Katie stared at the children and smiled as she lifted the cup to her lips.

"They are just so sweet," she told Joanne.

"Thank you," Joanne replied eyeing her offspring with affection. "They have their moments...but overall, Roy and I consider ourselves very blessed."

The young woman turned her attention back to the group and she looked over at John.

"How is Drew doing?" she asked.

"He's doing ok...coming along. Roy dropped me off at Rampart earlier this afternoon and we had a nice talk...just the two of us. He ordered Pam to go home and get some rest. She has been pushing herself way to hard, and with the pregnancy and all that she has been through, he is really worried about her and the baby."

"Did he talk at all about his future with the police department; whether he was going to go back to work?" Roy asked, "Or it is to soon for him to even start considering that? I think people would totally understand...if he chose not to."

Katie and Joanne gave each other a knowing glance before turning to look at the two partners. Both women had experience with family members who had "close calls" in the line of duty, and had their personal opinion on whether or not the guys should leave the job; but they were also fully aware of the intrinsic devotion that seemed to exist in both fireman and police officers alike. If Drew was anything like the men they cared about, the woman already knew the answer to that question. And they surmised Pam would not be happy about it, but would accept the decision for the man she loved.

"He is doing the same thing we would," John replied as he looked at his partner, "He's going back." Both men avoided eye contact with the two women, not really wanting to see the expression on their faces.

"Did he say how Pam felt about that?" Joanne inquired.

Roy knew he had opened up a can of worms that might potentially lead to a very "spirited" discussion.

"She had already figured it out," John replied. "They know each other pretty well, so it didn't come as a big surprise to her. Obviously, she wishes he would reconsider. She told him that she understood, but at some point, wants him to put in for a transfer to another less dangerous position within the police department...like Investigations or something."

John took a chance and peered over at Katie, trying to determine if there was a tell-tale expression on her face regarding the topic at hand. Clearly, they were still in the early stages of a relationship, and the young man wondered how she would cope with all of this...if they were to get married. He knew she had already been exposed to it most of her life, with both her dad and now her brother; he just wasn't sure if she wanted to add another person to the list of "Will he come home at the end of the day?" Then there was also the thought; did he want to put her through that? Because John Gage knew, he, like most of his fellow firefighters, were in this career for the long haul...regardless. Some people may think they were crazy, continuing to stay in a profession, especially when you nearly lost your life because of it.

But in their minds, nothing could be further from the truth. They already knew, understood, and accepted the risks that came with the job. And, just because they were in harm's way, or happened to get injured on occasion, didn't change anything. It did however, give them an opportunity to develop a deeper appreciation for the things and people in their life...that mattered most.

"Well," Joanne announced as she pushed herself up from the chair, "I think I'm going to go and clean up the kitchen and get the dishes washed."

Katie copied her actions "Let me give you a hand."

"That's ok...you're a guest. Please, just sit and relax," the older woman answered.

"It's really no bother. Between the two of us, we will get it done in no time." As she got up, Katie couldn't resist and ran her fingers through John's thick dark hair.

"I know...I know...I need to get it cut," he said with a laugh.

"Actually, I love you just the way you are...long hair and all," she said firmly as she ruffled the top of his head affectionately before grabbing some dishes off the table and following Joanne. Once in the small kitchen, she walked across the room and set the plates in her hand on the counter next to the sink.

"What would you like me to do Joanne...wash or dry?"

"How about you wash, and then I can dry and just put everything away so I don't have to deal with it later."

"Sounds good," the blonde haired girl said he she turned on the faucet and reached under the sink cabinet where she correctly assumed the dish soap was stored.

"So...what do you think?" Joanne asked regarding the discussion they had just departed from. She was confident Katie understood the question.

"I already knew the answer before it left Johnny's mouth," Katie stated as she scooped some of the dirty dishes from the counter top and plunged them into the warm soapy water.

"Me too."

"Katie," the older woman asked as she reached out for the first clean plate, shaking as much water from it as should could before encasing it in the dish towel. "I know you probably had some similar experiences, as have I, with what Pam is going through. How do you feel about that? I know you and Johnny are serious; I can see it in how you look and interact with each other. Is that...is that what you want? Are you are willing to deal with all of this...a third time?"

Katie's hands grabbed the silverware next and she slipped them carefully into the sink as she continued to work.

"Joanne, I know that it's difficult," the young girl acknowledged, "Both my brother and dad have been hurt at work; on more than one occasion. And there is that worry in the back of my mind, as well as my mothers', that one day they may not come home. But I look at my mom...and she is so happy! Her and my dad have such a special relationship...I-I'm almost jealous. To be that much in love with someone...is such a gift. My aunt on the other hand, married a man who is a very successful corporate CPA and makes a lot of money. She has all the luxuries life has to offer; except being with a man she truly loves. My aunt is one of the most negative and unhappy people I know.

She stopped and looked at the woman standing next to her.

"I would rather marry a man who I was hopelessly in love with, and be happy for however long that ended up being, than let that person out of my life in order to try and avoid possible hardship and disappointment. You see, I believe that we really don't "choose" who that person is going to be based on how they look or what they do for a living. It's insignificant...and something much more complex. When you fall in love with someone...it just happens. At least that's how I see it."

"So getting back to your initial question," she said, "The answer is...if Johnny was in fact the one, his job would in no way deter me from marrying him."

Joanne gave her friendly smile.

"It's hard Katie, being a fireman's wife," she said in a solemn voice. "And it gets even harder when you start having children. Sometimes, your perspective can...change."

Katie nodded indicating she understood the point Joanne was trying to get across. "I don't for a minute pretend to believe that it would be a simple, easy life," she stated, "But honestly, no life you ultimately choose is going to give you that guarantee. Hypothetically speaking though, if Johnny and I were to get married and have a couple kids, and the Chief Engineer came one day to knock on my door telling me he had been killed...it would shatter my world. My God, if you lost someone that you loved that much, how could it not…under ANY type of circumstances? I'm sure I would be angry, bitter, and a slew of other emotions. That's normal; and a part of life. It's the risk we take when we give our hearts to someone."

"But now, let me ask YOU a question," the blonde haired girl stated. "Have you ever regretted marrying Roy? Now knowing, and having a solid understanding of what you have to live with. If you were given the opportunity to go back and change things, would you have turned him down when he asked you to spend the rest of your life with him?"

Joanne looked thoughtfully into the girl's expectant blue eyes.

"No," she said without hesitation, "I wouldn't."

Katie nodded confident that she had made HER point. There was a short pause before she continued. "Plus there are the added bonuses of being a police officer or fireman's wife."

Joanne looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"My mother has a huge support system, and over the years has developed extremely close bonds with many of the police officer's wives. Just as the guys look out for each other and have their backs, the spouses take care of each other too. My mother has met some amazing woman; and she deeply treasures those relationships. She knows if my dad had gone into sales or some other line of work, it wouldn't have been the same...and I agree with her."

"Sounds like you and your mom talk a lot," Joanne said.

"We do. I'm very close with my family, but my mother and I, well...she is a smart, wonderful, and caring person…and I truly value her insight and opinions."

Katie grinned at the older woman. "I have already had the privilege of meeting two women, from both sides of the police and fire department families, who are very special. And, I am hopeful, that I will be able to get to know them even better."

"How old are you again?" Joanne said with a smirk on her face.

"Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. It comes to those who go through the journey of life with an open mind; and are not afraid to take risks, ask questions, and seek to understand…to learn and grow."

"Your mom?" Joanne said with a knowing grin.

"Nope," Katie replied with a laugh, "Ironically that little gem came from my father."

The women smiled at each other and Katie turned back to the sink and plunged her hands, once again, back into the warm water.

John had tilted his head back to look at her...but she was gone. A moment later the sound of running water could be heard as well as the soft feminine voices as the two women chatted while they worked. As his eyes came back to his friend, he saw the wide grin spreading across Roy's face. The term of endearment Katie had used had not gone unnoticed. John read his partner's expression and didn't want to delve into that particular topic, so he quickly spoke before Roy had a chance to.

"That roast Joanne cooked was amazing," John said patting his stomach.

"Yea...it was. And so were the side dishes Katie brought. She is a pretty good little cook I'd say," Roy commented with a grin, "Have Jo and I told you how much we really like Katie?"

They were going to go there anyways.

"Only a couple of dozen times," he commented.

"She's a great girl," he added with a gleam in his blue eyes.

"Yes...yes she is," John said casually.

"So...what are you planning on doing about that?" he asked impatiently.

"Since when are you so interested in my love life partner? You generally couldn't care less about the girls I date. So what gives?"

"Well…now I am," Roy replied, "And, you didn't answer my question."

John Gage shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before bringing the cup in his hand up to his mouth. His dark brown eyes peered over the top as he stared at his best friend, enjoying the look of anticipation on his face. After a long sip, he lowered the beverage and he smacked his lips before leaning back into the chair. The dark haired paramedic opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again...grinning like a child who had the best secret in the world.

"Well Roy," he finally said, "I guess you're just gonna have to wait and see."

It was a Monday morning, and also John Gage's first day back after being off on injury leave. Captain Hank Stanley was extremely relieved. It had been a revolving door of substitute paramedics to fill his slot, with Craig Brice signing up take a decent number of them. The whole shift had had their fill of him to last the rest of the year. There was no denying it...the man was an absolute pain in the ass.

Hank pulled the chair back from his desk and dropped his long lean body onto the hard wooden surface. He placed both palms on the front of his desk and pulled himself forward. The chair rolled effortlessly across the floor. Hank opened the drawer and retrieved the log book, reviewing the entries. The previous crew had a long and busy shift...and some interesting runs to say the least. He flipped the book closed and placed it back in the side drawer, hoping he wouldn't have quite so many entries to make in the next twenty-four hours. Only time would tell. As he sifted through the paperwork on the desktop, he saw some correspondence from HQ and also came across an envelope with his name on it. Hank immediately recognized the handwriting as Captain Hookraders and he let out an annoying sigh. He was half tempted to just pitch it...and then decided against it. No doubt he would be questioned about the contents when they saw each other next. Hank ripped open the envelope and his dark eyes quickly scanned the words on the page. He shook his head.

"That man has GOT to be kidding. I wouldn't even do that for my wife!" He muttered out loud. Hank crumpled up the paper and made a perfect basket in the garbage can that stood in the far corner of the room. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and made a mental note that he had eighteen minutes before he needed to get in the day room and roust his men for roll call.

His attention was diverted as he heard the bell ring, signally there was someone at the door. He got up from his chair and went to answer it. A tall dark haired man in a police uniform stood before him. Hank pushed open the door.

"Hello, can I help you?" he asked.

"I hope so," the man answered, "I'm looking for a Captain Hank Stanley."

"You found him. What can I do for you?" The hairs on the back of Hank's neck stood up. He had a feeling this was not going to be good.

"Does a John Gage work on your shift?"

That bad feeling...just intensified.

"Ah...yes, yes he does," Hank replied with a note of concern in his voice. "Listen, why don't you come into my office and have a seat. What did you say your name was?"

"Thank you. The name is Taylor, Sergeant Jim Taylor with the LA Police Department." He extended his arm, and Hank shook the man's hand.

The two men took a seat.

Hank clapped his hands together and repeated "So, what can I do for you." In his mind...he really wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.

John had arrived early for his first day back at work. He had been chomping at the bit and was glad that Brackett had finally released him. He had sat down with Sergeant Taylor and went over in detail what had occurred that night. The supervisor re-affirmed what Roy had already told him. In addition, he related to John that they had interviewed Eddie and he had confessed to seeing the officer approach and pointed the gun in Joe Thompson's direction with the intention of killing him. The young man showed no remorse for his actions. Despite everything, John still found himself periodically thinking about the officer...and his family. He needed the distraction; the comfort of a job he loved and the support of his crew and friends. John understood what Roy had said to him was true, but it was still hard.

He entered the locker room and spotted Chet and Roy already in the process of getting dressed.

"Good Morning," he said cheerfully.

"Hey Johnny," his partner exclaimed "You have NO idea how good it is to have you back. I have been stuck with Brice for most of the shifts you missed. Working with that guy for 24 hours at a time, multiple times, drove me absolutely nuts. You know what I mean?"

"Uh, actually Roy...I don't," John replied.

"What? I would think you of all people would know what I mean."

"Oh, I know he drives everyone crazy, but as far as working with him for shifts at a time, I can't honestly say that I know what it's like," he stated.

"Johnny, when you're out sick, injured, or on vacation, it seems he is here a lot," Roy said, "So why wouldn't you understand. I assume the same holds true when I'm gone."

The junior paramedic said nothing.

"Ok…so just how many times have you had to work with him?" the blond haired man inquired suspiciously. John held up his hand which was clenched in a fist, and slowly pointed his index finger into the air.

"ONCE? That's it?" he said incredulously. "I-I don't get it."

"Well, the explanation behind it is actually pretty simple Roy," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "I drove him crazy."

Roy stared at his partner with a look of confusion on his face.

"What?"

"I...drove...him...crazy," the dark haired paramedic repeated.

John opened his locker door, turned around, and sat down inside. His feet came up to rest on the bench in front of him. He took a deep breath and exhaled as he started to explain.

"Well, by nature, I can tend to annoy people...a little."

"That's the understatement of the year," the lineman said.

"Oh shut up Chet...you are in NO position to talk," John retorted.

He turned back to Roy. "The first day Brice came to work a shift with me, I did everything I possibly could to annoy him. I constantly called him by his first name, kept unlocking the compartment doors on the squad, flat out refused to let him drive, I talked his ear off when he was trying to sleep...you name it. And since he is such a know-it-all, I even made up a fake disease. Joe Early played along with me on it. I really got to hand it to the Doc", John said thoughtfully, "He pulled that off like a top notch actor. You know, Early has this dark side to his personality; he is a decent guy who absolutely loves a good prank. Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. Brice was absolutely beside himself when he thought I knew something he didn't. He was a total basket case. I heard he spent his day off trying to research this non-existent disease. He eventually figured it out and was pretty embarrassed, so now, the walking rule book avoids working with me at all cost. Ask Cap. Brice won't come out and admit it...but if he hears there is paramedic overtime at 51's on the A shift...he asks who is out. If it's me he will take it. If it's you he won't."

Roy looked at John in disbelief...and anger started to cloud his face.

"Well, it would have been NICE if you shared that piece of information with me," Roy chastised his partner. The younger man shrugged his shoulders a second time, "Wouldn't have made any difference...even if I woulda told ya."

The blond haired man gave him a perplexed look, "Really…and why not?"

"Because you're too nice," he stated simply. "Face it Roy, you wouldn't have been able to pull it off. Like I said, I can being annoying by nature...but that is NOTHING compared to what I can inflict when I really put my mind to it." His mouth twisted into a smarmy grin.

"All the guys like working with you, not only because you're an incredible paramedic, but also because of your easy going nature. But Brice," John said with a shake of his head, "I don't know man, he really loves workin with ya. You tolerate him…like Bellingham. And sorry, but you just don't have it in you to be as annoying as me."

The disgusted look on Roy's face had not altered at the explanation his friend was providing. John opened his arms in a gesture of seeking forgiveness. "Ok look…I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but don't look at it in a negative way. It's…it's actually a compliment! Brice is so used to Bellingham just kind of going along for the ride and agreeing with everything he says."

"So now you're saying I'm a push over?" Roy said in an annoyed voice.

"Well…uh, no," John said as he scratched his head thinking that the more he talked, the worse he was making it. "I wouldn't put it uh, exactly like that. You…umm, are just really "accommodating" is all."

The dark haired paramedic grinned as he put his feet on the floor and stood up. He turned to face his locker, and his eyes traveled to a small package sitting on the top shelf.

"What's this?" he asked as he began reaching for it and stopped short.

"CHET...are you serious?" John said through clenched teeth. "My first day back and you're at it already? If you think I'm going to fall for that...and open that thing...you are dead wrong!"

"Gage, I swear...it wasn't me," Chet said in his defense.

Marco had walked in on the latter half of the conversation.

"Actually," the Hispanic lineman said, "This time he is telling the truth. Some guy came by the station and dropped it off and asked if we could put it in your locker."

"Ok...so he got someone else to do his dirty work," the young man said unconvinced.

Chet held up his right hand. "John, I swear on my pin-up of Miss September that I had nothing to do with it."

The dark haired paramedic eyed him suspiciously and slowly reached for the package. He shook it gently and heard something hard rattling around inside.

He pointed a finger at his crewmate. "I'm not kidding Kelly. If this is a prank...I'm...I'm gonna make your life unbearable."

John carefully opened the package and peered at the contents. A grin came to his face as he reached his hand inside and pulled out a small figure who was dressed like a fireman.

"What is that thing?"

"It's a gnome Marco," John answered.

"A gnome? Who would give you that...and why?"

John looked inside the box and found a folded piece of paper. He opened it up and began to read.

John,

I found this guy while I was picking up a few gnomes for the station. Apparently they have more than just the "garden variety". When I saw it, I immediately thought of you and felt you should have it. I know initially it may be a reminder of a tragic event. But moreover, I hope he becomes a symbol of how critically important, despite difficult times, to never forgot how to laugh and enjoy life. The rest of the shift and I are so glad we had the chance to get to know you...and we hope that you won't be a stranger. Take care...and stay safe my friend.

-Kevin Harrison

As a side note, I caught the guy that had been causing the criminal damage to that older couples yard...I thought you might enjoy seeing his picture!

John reached inside the box a third time and withdrew the photo. He stared down at it and laughed until his side hurt. He was sure the guys in the Investigations Unit were going to get him back…but good. The photo was of a little gnome in a black and white convict outfit sitting in a Los Angeles jail cell. He put the letter and photo back in the box, and replaced it on his shelf. The young paramedic finished getting dressed and slammed the locker door shut. He made his way into the day room with his crewmates; the little fireman gnome clutched in his hand.

Sergeant Taylor looked at the man sitting across from him. "Captain Stanley," he began, "I'm Officer Burke's supervisor; John rode on my shift when the shooting happened."

Hank nodded his head in acknowledgement and waited for the man to proceed.

"I wanted to come down here and speak to you in person instead of just doing this over the phone." Hank nodded again and he clenched his hands tighter as prepared himself for whatever he was about to hear.

"Captain," the man continued, "I have certain expectations and rules that I expect my men to follow. Some might call me a hard-ass...maybe their right. I have those expectations because I take the responsibilities of my job seriously. The men on my shift would lay down their lives for each other without a second thought; as I would for them. Unfortunately I can't control the outcome of every incident, but I try to do everything in my power to see that my people go home at the end of their shift. I will tell you that there is probably nothing harder to hear called out over the radio than, "We have an officer down". All the men want to do is get on the scene to help their fallen brother and get control of the situation. I have to double my efforts knowing that my officers who, generally speaking, are able to look at a crisis situation objectively...have now made it personal. That is a dangerous thing to have happen because common sense and tactical planning can go right out the window. But our job, like yours, is unpredictable and dangerous. We can train and create procedures on what to do, but the bottom line is none of us have total control. We do the best we can and sometimes...sometimes it isn't enough."

The man before him swallowed hard before continuing.

"Joe Thompson is the first officer I have ever lost under my command," he admitted with a slight hitch in his otherwise controlled voice. Clearly this incident had not been easy for him.

"When John was fighting with the suspect on the ground...the gun went off. I specifically asked him if he was shot. I know he heard me...but he didn't answer. He proceeded to get up and it didn't appear that there was anything wrong; other than he was winded from the altercation. He then had to be physically stopped from walking into an unsecure scene to go after Drew."

"Welcome to my world," Hank muttered under his breath.

"I didn't find out until later, when he collapsed. I understand that he wanted to help his friend, but he should have told me the truth. Like I said, it is my responsibility to take care of my men, and that night…he was one of my men."

"Captain Stanley," the sergeant began.

"Please...call me Hank."

"Hank, my true reason for coming here is not to get John Gage into any kind of trouble. But I feel it's my duty as a supervisor to bring this to your attention; for his sake as well as others. From what I can tell, he is probably an outstanding fireman; but he is still young, eager, and somewhat headstrong."

"Yes, you have pretty much hit the nail on the head with your assessment of him," Hank agreed.

"More importantly," the sergeant continued, "I wanted to express my sincere appreciation for what your crewmember did for us that night. I know a lot of people in that predicament would have panicked. I could tell by the way John relayed the information to the dispatcher that he is not one to lose control in the face of danger. His transmission was clear and concise. I have to say that young man definitely has a talent for getting himself out of a tight situation. To have the presence of mind to flip the handle with his foot and kick the door open, right after this guy shot at him for the second time, is pretty amazing. There is no doubt in my mind that his actions saved Drew's life, and probably some of the other responding officers as well. That second suspect would probably have lied in wait...shooting the officers as they rolled up on the scene. I have conveyed all this to John, but felt it was important that you know it as well. Honestly, I wouldn't mind having that young man on my shift. He has the makings of a fine police officer."

Hank laughed. "Sorry, but I don't think that will ever happen, John Gage is a fireman through and through."

The sergeant nodded his head and smirked, "Yea...I figured that was probably the case."

"Hank, there is just one more thing," he added in a serious voice. I know that John was having some issues believing he was partly responsible for Thompson's death. The Department has reviewed this case, and there are no findings that his actions were anything but commendable. We have talked about this, and I have explained it to him and tried to offer my assurances. I think he is finally beginning to accept it, but I just wanted you to know...if he seems distracted at times."

"Jim, I truly appreciate your stopping by and also for the heads up. I will definitely keep an eye on both matters you brought to my attention. I also have the perfect set of second eyes to help me with that job. John's partner is pretty in tune with his moods; and let me tell you, that is no small accomplishment," he finished with a grin.

"Listen, I have to get my guys ready for roll call in a few minutes, but would you like to stay and have a quick cup?"

"Thanks Hank, but I really need to get back; how about a rain check?"

"Anytime."

Jim Taylor rose from the chair and extended his arm once again. The two men shook hands and the sergeant started to leave. "It was a pleasure meeting you," he called back as he pulled on the door handle, "And by the way…good luck with Gage."

"Yea...thanks. I need all the luck I can get," he thought with a smile.

Hank walked into the day room and saw his men all seated around the table getting their morning caffeine fix. He walked over to grab another quick cup before calling everyone out to roll call. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to his senior paramedic.

"Mornin Cap," Roy greeted.

"Mornin Roy," he said as he glanced over with a smile to see his junior paramedic back among the crew.

"Hey John...welcome back! You are a sight for sore eyes…and what in the hell is that?" He asked as his eyes shifted from his youngest crew member, to the little figure now sitting on the table in front of him. The dark haired paramedic gave his boss a cheerful grin and a quick wave of his hand, "Thanks Cap...I'm glad to be back. And this here is a fireman gnome," he replied as he reached to grab the newspaper in front of him and flipped it open.

"I beg your pardon," Hank stated.

"A fireman gnome," John repeated, "He's a gift from my LAPD friends…and the newest member of our crew."

John looked at the little statue and smiled "Ya know, we have to give him a name…make it official and all."

"How about…Stanley," Mike offered.

"Perfect!" John said with satisfaction.

"Yea, he does kind of look like a Stanley," Chet commented.

Hank wheeled about and glared at his normally quiet engineer.

"Mike, I cannot believe that came from you…of all people. Listen up you twits, I let it slide when you guys unanimously decided to name that couch potato Henry," he said pointing at the basset hound, "With the stipulation that he NEVER be called Hank. However, I draw the line at some…some…gnome being given my other name. You guys are giving me a complex."

"Cap, you're being too sensitive," John said, "Ok, how about this. We'll strike the same deal as we did with Henry and will never refer to him as Stanley…we will call him Stan."

"Come on Cap," the men said in unison as five pair of eyes turned to stare at him.

"You guys are nuts," Hank responded in a low growl. "I think when the annual physicals roll around, I'm going to suggest they include a physiological evaluation as well."

"We'll take that as a yes," John replied looking at his boss with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, what about a last name?"

"Last name? Why on earth would he need a LAST name?" Hank shot back.

"Simple," John answered, "When Brice comes to work here, he has his "last name only" rule. So, Stan needs a last name." He checked out his partner's expression and saw the look of annoyance cross his face.

"How about Carson?" Marco said after a couple minutes. "He can be named after the town."

"Stanley Cars…I mean Stan Carson. Has a nice ring to it. Great suggestion Marco," John said nodding his head in approval.

Chet got up and grabbed the figure in his hand and walked over the couch. He sat down next to Henry, who immediately crawled over to lie across the lineman's lap.

"Henry…meet Stan," he said.

The dog began to sniff the object…and then opened his mouth to snatch it out of Chet's hand.

"Henry No! Stan is not food!" the lineman admonished.

"God," Chet said shaking his head "This dog will eat anything. We better not leave him any place Henry can get at, or his stay here will be short-lived."

"Well," Roy added, "as long as he is not on or around the couch…I'd say he is safe."

The group of men laughed, enjoying the camaraderie. It was a great way to start their shift.

Roy drummed his fingers casually on the table. "Uh Cap, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure Pal...What's up?"

"Well, I was just wondering, when I'm out, ya know on vacation or something, does Brice ever fill in here...for me?"

John glanced up from the paper he was reading with expectant eyes.

The Captain cocked his head to the side as he pondered the question, "Funny you should mention that Roy because, come to think of it no, he doesn't."

Johnny looked at his partner and gave him a knowing nod. "I told you so," he mouthed.

The tones suddenly blared throughout the building, "Station 51...child stuck in a tree at Frontier Park...Howard Boulevard and Liberty...caller advised to enter into the parking lot off of Liberty...time out...0758."

John shot out of his chair and sprinted out the door before the rest of the crew were even on their feet.

"Alright boys, let's get moving before Gage leaves without us," Hank laughed.

The crew of 51's pulled into the parking lot several minutes later. "Station 51 is at the scene," Hank replied into the mic before the men piled out of their vehicles.

Six heads moved back and forth searching for the person who had called. Roy's eyes came upon a short portly man about sixty yards away. A rather large white shaggy dog jumped frantically up and down on the end of a leash he was holding. The man's attention was distracted as he tried to control the unruly animal...and he was having little to no success. He glanced up and spotted the uniformed men. His free arm shot into the air, and he began waving it back and forth.

"Cap," Roy said pointing towards the man, "Over there."

Hank nodded. "It looks like we're hoofing it. There is no way we can get the rigs any closer. Mike, you and Chet hang out here. I will call ya over the HT if we need anything...ok?"

"You got it Cap," Mike replied as Chet climbed up into the cab of the engine and plopped down in the captain's seat.

"Don't get to comfortable there Kelly," the cap said giving his best attempt at a stern look.

"Just keepin it warm for ya Cap...just keepin it warm," the lineman grinned as he leaned back.

"Okay boys," he said to the rest of his men, "Let's check it out and see what we got."

The three men nodded and fell into step behind their boss.

"Over here...over here..." the man yelled as they drew closer.

"No es broma...genio," Marco muttered.

"What did you say Marco?" Roy asked. The blond haired paramedic didn't know a lick of Spanish.

"I think," John answered without looking back," he said, "No kidding...idiot." Am I right Marc?"

"Almost. You got the "No kidding" part right."

"Hmmm, well I know it wasn't a swear word...cause ya taught me all of those."

"Johnny Johnny," Marco said with over exaggerated displeasure in his voice. "You disappoint me. Come on...genio...GENIO."

"Hold on...lemme think."

The Hispanic lineman waited impatiently before starting to speak, "It means..."

"Don't tell me...don't tell me! I can get it...just give me a second."

John's face pulled into a look of intense concentration.

"I got it...genius! It means genius," he said.

Marco smiled and nodded, "Muy bueno mi amigo."

John gave his partner a triumphant grin as the group finally reached the man.

"Mister, did you call the Fire Department about a child stuck in a tree?" Hank inquired.

"Yes Sir...I did. You see, I was walking Titus here...you know, just minding my own business, and I heard this cry for help. I looked around and didn't see anything. I heard it again and then realized it was coming from above me. I couldn't see the boy, but he said his name was Charlie and he was stuck and couldn't get back down. So then I..."

Hank had been nodding his head and had finally put both hands up and interrupted him. "Sir...can you please tell us exactly where the child is?"

"Oh yes...of course...of course. Follow me," the man said as he jerked the leash and the big dog suddenly turned and ran forward. The slack tightened as the canine almost face planted his owner into the ground. The firemen glanced at each other, and shook their heads as the man recovered and was half dragged back down the path. The group walked for a few minutes, and then stopped beneath a tree that had to be close to seventy feet tall.

The man pointed a chunky index finger upward, "He's up there."

The crew looked upward, but saw nothing but branches and leaves.

"Hello?" Hank called out. "You said his name was Charlie?" he asked in confirmation. The man nodded his head up and down.

"Charlie...it's the fire department. Can you hear me?" Hank shouted with his hands cupped to his mouth.

"YES," they heard a scared voice reply, "Please help me...please get me down!"

"Ok son, just relax," Hank answered, "I'm going to have one of my men come up there and we will have you down in no time. Just hang on. Are you hurt at all?"

"Yes," the boy shouted down. "It's…It's my ankle."

The captain turned to look at his junior paramedic. John remained silent and stared expectantly at his partner.

"Uh, I got this one Cap," Roy spoke up.

"Oh…alright. I guess we are going to need a couple of safety belts, a rope, and a ladder." Hank said as he started to bring the HT to his mouth. He was a bit surprised. Johnny had been off for several weeks, and he thought his youngest crewmember would be all over this. John was extremely agile and had absolutely no fear of heights. This rescue was right up his alley.

"Cap," John said, "I don't think we need a ladder, we can just give Roy a leg-up. No point in having them lug that thing all the way over here. We will probably need our equipment though…drug box, biphone, and a splint."

"Yea, good point," Hank replied nodding as he brought the HT once again to his lips.

"Ok Roy, are ya set?" John asked his partner as he and Marco stood on either side ready to hoist him up to the first branch.

Roy did a quick check and nodded his head. "I don't think I need to bother with the HT; we can hear Charlie pretty clearly from up there, and one less thing I have to carry."

John gave a slight bend at his knees and proceeded to interlock his hands together. Roy placed his right foot onto John's hands, and grabbed the shoulders of the men on either side to stabilize himself. They lifted the blond haired paramedic in one fluid motion, and Roy reached up and grabbed the branch above him, pulling himself onto it. He idly wondered how the kid had managed to get up here in the first place. He didn't see anything at the base of the tree the boy could have used to begin his climb. He shrugged his shoulders realizing it really didn't matter.

The tree was extremely dense with branches, making it a slow process. Roy felt like he had been climbing forever and still had not reached the boy.

"Hey Roy, how's it going," John called up after a while.

It's…going," came the response.

The blond haired paramedic finally caught sight of blue jean clad boy about eight feet above him.

"Hi Charlie, my name is Roy," he said as he finally reached him. "Got yourself in a little jam here didn't ya?"

"Yea...are you going to be able to get me down?"

"You bet son, don't worry about that," Roy said in an encouraging voice. "There are five other firemen on the ground who are gonna help me."

"How come you're not in school?" he asked.

"We got it off…Teachers Institute day."

The blond haired paramedic checked the boy's ankle and concluded it wasn't broken, but probably a good sprain. He secured the safety belt around Charlie's waist and hooked him off to a solid branch.

Roy surveyed the situation. He threw the line over the limb above Charlie's head and then tied the one end off to the boy's belt and then glanced down. He needed to get the line to the guys on the ground, but with so many branches in the way, that was going to be a problem.

"I'm gonna try and drop you the line," he called to his crew.

"Ok Roy," Hank answered.

Roy released the coil of rope, and it made it about six feet before getting hung up. He sighed in aggravation.

"Charlie, just hold on…I will be right back," he stated as he began to climb down.

It took three more attempts before the rope finally reached its destination. Roy climbed all the way back up; the sweat was rolling down his face and he noted the many scratches now decorating his arms.

He reached the boy again and detached the hook from the branch after confirming the guys had him. It was a slow decent as Roy had to continually guide Charlie's body through the labyrinth of branches.

He breathed a sigh of relief as they both hit the ground. His partner moved in immediately and started treating their victim. Officer Vince Howard approached the men as the ambulance crew stood by patiently waiting with the stretcher.

"I talked with Charlie's mother," Vince informed them, "And she stated she was at work but would leave right away and go straight to the hospital."

"Good deal Vince, we don't need to ride in with him, but I will get back on the horn and let Rampart know." He lifted the receiver and relayed the message. The two men finished up splinting their victim's ankle, and then carefully lifted the boy and placed him on the stretcher. As the attendants loaded him into the vehicle, Roy leaned his head into the back of the ambulance. "Take care Charlie...and you might want to avoid any tree climbing for a while."

"I will...and thank you for saving me," he replied.

"Glad to be of service," the senior paramedic said giving the boy a smile before closing the ambulance doors. The crew gathered their equipment and trekked back to their vehicles. They were just preparing to pull out of the lot.

"Station 51…what's your status?" Hank grabbed the mic "Station 51 is available."

"10-4 Station 51…respond for an injured hiker…on Canyon road…half mile past Gilbert...Canyon road half mile past Gilbert...time out...0856.

"Station 51…10-4."

Johnny looked over at his partner and gave him a smug look. "I hope you ate your Wheaties today Pally."

The entire morning kept Roy DeSoto a very busy man. John was keeping his promise about letting his partner take the lead on next several rescues. The two men were just backing into the bay after their last run; an assist to the coast guard. Roy sat shivering in his seat from the sopping wet clothes that clung to his body. They both exited the squad and Roy headed directly into the locker room. John bounded into the day room and went to grab a carton of milk.

"Hey guys…what's for lunch?" he asked.

"We already ate John," Marco answered, "But there are burritos on the second shelf in the fridge; they just need to be heated up. Where's your partner?"

John gave a quick glance towards the door. "He's changing. He got a LITTLE wet on that last call."

The dark haired paramedic pulled open the refrigerator door once again and removed the leftovers. He placed them on the counter and proceeded to get some plates and transfer the food over.

"Hey Mike, could you turn on the oven for me?"

Roy appeared in the doorway and the tired look on his face was blatantly evident. He fell into his chair, desperately wanting some coffee, but not wanting to get up again. John stared at his partner and immediately went over and picked up a cup that had been washed and was drying on a dishtowel next to the sink. He took the pot off the stove and filled it up, and walked over to his friend, placing it down in front of him.

The senior paramedic looked up gratefully. "Thanks…how did you know?"

"You really have to ask that…give me a break Roy."

He took a long sip and lowered the cup to the table. It made contact…about the same time the tones went off.

"Station 51, respond for a man trapped on a girder at a construction site…6220 Highland…cross street Rosecrans...6-2-2-0 Highland…cross street Rosecrans...time out 1323."

Roy threw his arms up in disgust as he pushed back from his chair and stood up. John switched off the oven as he ran past it, and then followed his partner into the apparatus bay. They both pulled open the doors to the squad and jumped in.

"Damn it," Roy grumbled loudly. "The seat is still wet!"

John shook his head and a small grin appeared on his face, as he reached behind him and grabbed his helmet.

"That was awfully nice of Sam," the dark haired paramedic stated as Roy snatched the slip of paper from the Captain.

"What?"

"Well," the younger man replied, "It was nice of Sam…to let ya know what you will be walking into," he said as he glanced at his watch and wrote on the piece of paper.

"Uh huh. A man of your word…right?"

John gave him a smug smile, "Yep."

"Your nobleness is downright inspiring junior," the senior medic said dryly.

"Why thank you partner."

"Ok…I've learned my lesson," Roy exclaimed "The next time you volunteer for a rescue, I'm going to keep my big mouth shut."

John couldn't help himself and laughed out loud.

The squad pulled out the bay with the Engine following right behind. As they zigzagged through traffic, the windshield wipers moved to a cadenced beat in response to the rain that was now coming down at a steady pace. The young paramedic knew his partner was exhausted, and John had absolutely no intentions of letting Roy take this next rescue...to hell with being a man of his word.

As they pulled up on the scene, John leaped out as a foreman came rushing over.

"What happened?" he asked, sliding his arms into the turnout coat he was holding.

"One of my men is hurt...he's up there," the man stated in an anxious voice.

John followed the man's outstretched arm and he gazed upon the construction worker stranded on a girder 200 plus feet off the ground. He inadvertently blinked as the raindrops fell onto his face, a single drop hitting him squarely in the eye. Roy came around and stood behind his partner along with the rest of the crew. He let out an irritated groan under his breath.

John walked back to the truck and opened a compartment door. He reached in and grabbed his safety belt and an extra one for the victim, along with the rest of the items he would need.

"Hey Roy," he called over to his partner, "Why don't you set up over there...out of the rain."

The blond haired paramedic gave his crewmate a questioning look.

"What do you mean? John, I-I can do this..."

"Roy," John said firmly.

"What?"

"This is "next time"...keep your big mouth shut." He said with a serious look that quickly dissolved into a mischievous grin.

Roy looked at his partner and gave him an appreciative smile.

"Can you manage it?" he asked.

"Yea, no problem."

John looked over at the Hispanic lineman who was now standing next to the big rig.

"Hey Marco," he shouted, knowing he needed some solid support on his line. The man turned away from the engine and looked in the direction of the sound of his name. John jerked his head in an upward motion to the trapped man. "Care to join me?"

Marco grinned at his crewmate "You bet Johnny, I got you covered on this one."

The young paramedic looked over at Hank Stanley who had heard the conversation.

"Cap?" he questioned; wanting to clear it with his boss first.

He looked from John to Marco; the lineman was bouncy with anticipation and already reaching in to grab his gear. He paused waiting to hear his captain's response.

Hank nodded his head. "Sounds good…but you guys be careful up there."

"You bet Cap," the dark haired paramedic responded.

John had complete faith in all his crewmates. But in situations where some muscle was needed, Marco was the go to guy. He was stocky like Chet, but the lineman had a lot of upper body strength which was of great reassurance to those dangling on the other end of the line that the fireman was anchoring.

Roy echoed his Captains concerns," Johnny, with all this rain those girders are bound to be slippery, watch your footing…ok?"

"Right…we got this Roy. No problem."

As he reached the base of the structure and looked up, John Gage paused and reflected on everything that had transpired over the last several weeks and, on a personal level, what he had come to understand and appreciate about life, death, and the journey in between. He glanced over at his partner and a man he felt honored to call his friend.

"Everything ok Junior?" Roy called out, concern lines beginning to show on his face.

"Yea," the young man grinned and shouted back, "Everything is just fine Pal."

In that moment, John Gage knew without a doubt in his heart or mind…what mattered most.

The End

Disclaimer: The Emergency! characters belong to Mark VII Productions and Universal Studios.