The "A" Shift Crew

Captain Hammer strolled briskly from the locker room to the dorm, freshly showered and dressed in a clean uniform. Mental and physical fatigue clung to him despite the short but refreshing purge of water. Noting the absence of men in either room, he continued on into the apparatus bay – also devoid of human occupants. A tight smile crossed his rugged features as he considered that fact; it boded well for the station if his new crew had gathered together in the same space, no matter what they were doing.

He paused outside of the day room and eavesdropped shamelessly on the happenings within. The muted tones of the television caught his attention first, but after he filtered that bit of nonsense out he realized there was something else going on in that room. Snatches of conversation trickled towards him, the voices quiet. He couldn't make out any words and wondered if they were discussing that last run, or simply talking of mundane things.

Entering the room slowly, he counted five freshly showered heads and noted the position of every man there. He was curious to see how they had grouped together – would it be by their current position, by age, or even by experience? Chet and Mike were sprawled loosely on the couch while the other three had pulled up chairs close by. So they hadn't really assembled in any kind of obvious pattern, at least as far as he could tell.

Another half-smile as he mulled that over – they had not only gathered in the same room but had naturally gravitated together as a group. Completely different personalities, likes and dislikes, interests and experiences, yet they all had found their way to this room in the dark hours of dawn. So the disastrous fire had not broken them; if anything, it had formed a cohesive bond between them.

Detouring to the brown fridge and opening the right side, he checked for something cold to drink. The only two choices appeared to be orange juice and milk; he grabbed the juice and poured a glass, tossing the now empty carton in the plastic trash can near the exit door. He regarded his small group of men over the rim of the glass as he sipped, pleased that they were HIS men and proud of how they were handling the situation, at least here at the station. What they did when they left was another matter altogether, but he had confidence that not one of them would break apart or even take one step onto that slippery, treacherous path of self-destruction that he knew all about.

Hammer joined his shift, pulling up the last of the two black padded chairs and dropping it in the space next to the couch. A couple of heads nodded to acknowledge his presence; the conversation that had paused a moment continued on as Mike explained in a few stingy words what his opinion was on spicy food. Chet immediately followed up with a meandering, slightly off topic tale concerning his high school football mascot that was a jalapeño pepper. This evoked exclamations of disbelief from several of the men and then laughter as the lineman swore it was true.

Shaking his head a bit, the captain slid down in his chair and leaned back, for once relaxing his usual stiff demeanor. He let the words that were being bandied about wash over him and sluice away some of his anxiety as through half slitted eyes he scrutinized each firefighter. He studied their faces, tone of voice, and their movements, comparing them to what he knew of each man.

He started with Marco, the oldest man on the crew; he detected no outward signs of stress except for the slow tapping of his fingers against the blue fabric covering his thigh. It was a funny thing that all of them, like the lineman, were attired in their blues instead of turnouts. Too close to morning, perhaps, or was it the simple, plain fact that the coarse pants and heavy boots reminded them all too well of the ferocious fire that had won the battle? He touched his knee and realized that he had subconsciously made the same decision while dressing….

Lopez turned his head and caught his gaze. As if he could read Hammer's mind, he flashed him a half smile and ducked his head in a tiny nod. He would be okay then, Dick thought, returning the nod. He wasn't quite sure if Marco lived alone or with family or friends, but he was well aware of the huge family that supported him. And he wouldn't be the least surprised if Marco showed up for the next shift laden with an elaborate meal that he had planned, shopped for, and cooked himself. Through the rumor mill, he had learned that was how the wiry Hispanic dealt with any horrors that trailed him home.

His eyes flicked to DeSoto. If the paramedic's posture was any indication of his thoughts, he was already out of the station and at home with his family. He appeared to be listening to the fast dialogue that was still circling the group, but his body was perched at the edge of the wooden, kitchen chair and his wrist was tipped so that he could covertly check the time. After several general conversations with Roy, the captain understood that he had a soulmate waiting for him, someone to help him deal with the burden of a troubled soul. He could only hope that in the future the other man wouldn't emulate Hammer's own mistake in shutting out his spouse and try to walk solo on the precipice of sanity.

Although he wasn't quite sure what coping mechanisms the paramedic had in place, he had heard mention of a kiln and pottery. He felt strongly that Roy would be able to handle anything that came his way, especially with a very supportive wife at home. Hammer wondered briefly how long it would take for the often somber and quiet man to find a close friend within the station to confide in, talk things over with. He sincerely hoped it would be Gage, even though they appeared to be polar opposites, because there was nothing better than developing a tight relationship with your partner. Even though it was wonderful to have someone waiting for you outside of the fire department, there was only so much that you could share with them, so much that they could understand or relate to.

Mike Stoker, his very capable engineer, had his long legs stretched out in a relaxed manner in the farthest corner of the couch. He had apparently reached his word count for the shift because while he followed the quiet conversation, he hadn't added any more comments. Even though he had been partially removed from the intense action at the destroyed home, every time Dick had glanced his way Stoker had been positioned so that he could follow the movements of his shift mates while attending to his vital business at the controls. Those observant eyes that were even now flitting from man to man in silent scrutiny had caught every moment of the fierce fight at the scene. His attentiveness had merely confirmed Hammer's earlier thoughts that Stoker was prime captain material; all he had to do now was figure out how the engineer was going to manage the aftereffects of the run. It was easy to think the quiet man would keep it all bottled up inside, but he was certain that wasn't true. As Mike was just as new to being wedded as he was to the engineer job, the captain didn't believe he would bring the nightmare tale home with him, at least not yet. So the odds were that sometime tomorrow afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Stoker would be flying through the streets of Los Angeles in the engineer's street legal dune buggy, perhaps on their way to Pismo Beach to plow through the sand. Dick had gone on one of those adrenaline pumping trips several months back when Mike had been assigned to the station, wanting to get to know the man better. One of the things he had learned was that heading to the sand or dirt was the younger man's way of relieving the pressure of the job.

Feeling eyes upon him, Hammer realized his engineer had zeroed in on him with that attentive and questioning stare he was using on everybody else. He waggled his fingers against his leg to let him know he was okay, a grim smile deepening the lines etched on either side of his mouth as he felt Mike's concern slide over him. A good man, a good man indeed…..

The curly haired lineman bounced to his feet, drawing the captain's attention as he swaggered over to the television and clicked it off, hands waving wildly as he talked over his shoulder. He realized Kelly was playing the station clown with his exaggerated gestures and constant stream of chatter. It was an odd but obviously effective way for him to diminish the strain they were all laboring under, but he wondered how well it was working for the fellow himself. It was hard to read Chet sometimes, and Hammer had the feeling that often he wasn't as confident as he appeared, using levity as a cover up. But right now he seemed to be holding his own; instead of returning directly to his seat on the couch, he detoured behind the half circle of men. Marco and Roy both got light touches of reassurance on their shoulders while he got a murmured "Cap" in a serious and respectful tone. Johnny, however, received a thump that almost knocked him out of his chair as Kelly forced his way between the two seats Gage and Hammer were occupying.

To his credit, Chet did offer an apology as he bent over and retrieved the pack of cigarettes that had flown from John's hand. The captain's eyebrows lifted as he observed Gage's foot draw back and hover uncertainly for a second at the tempting target in front of him. The boot dropped back to the floor, the paramedic accepted the smokes, and Kelly flopped onto the couch, but only after gently nudging Stoker's leg.

Hammer looked down at his hands, twisting his wedding band around as he recalled what Chet had laughingly described as his support team. He would be heading home to a house he shared with several of his siblings and so would be just fine, especially since he had admitted he was particularly close to an older sister who watched out for him, often ruling their little enclave with an iron fist. Kelly also had some interesting hobbies or activities he was fond of, including meditation, deep sea fishing with his brothers, and a rather odd fascination for collecting barb wire. So if his family wasn't enough to take his mind away from that soul consuming fire, he could always fall back on trolling the countryside outside of the city for those twisted bits of wire.

He recalled the piece he had seen Chet waving about his head at that abandoned farm last week. That had been before Kelly had been officially assigned to their station but Dick had recognized him and already knew he was one of his permanent lineman. It had been hard not to notice Chet with that whoop of excitement or the little jig he had done before climbing aboard his truck.

Unfortunately that quirky memory had brought back just how close of a call it had been for the station's paramedics when, due to the carelessness of several teenagers, moonshine had exploded within the barn. Hammer, head still down, rolled his eyes sideways to check out the profile of the medic next to him. The last couple of weeks had been hard on the man; the numerous water rescues, the flu, and crawling through a dirt cellar and blackberry bushes had left a weariness etched on his face that rivaled his own reflection that he had viewed earlier in the steam fogged mirror. And of course there were the bruises wrought by an errant hose during an overtime shift; he could still see the pale traces of color on the scrubbed skin of his face. **

Dick, distracted by the motion of the cellophane clad cigarette pack idly twisting through John's fingers, realized that of all the men on his crew he knew this one the least. Like he had done for all of the new crew, he'd perused Gage's service record and talked to his former captains and Battalion Chief. He had even made several discreet enquiries among his own acquaintances and friends within the department, his curiosity piqued by the youthful firefighter who had rather quickly became a rescue man and had then topped that by becoming the youngest paramedic in Los Angeles County. While he had gleaned useful information, it had told him very little about the man personally or the reasons behind his movements within the county fire hierarchy.

He knew Gage lived alone, having visited there several days ago. But he also was well aware of the fact that Johnny had quite a circle of friends within the club of first responders, especially among the sheriff's department. As for family, he had no clue whether he had any close by; so far he had heard no mention of anybody, which was a bit unusual. But just because a fellow didn't volunteer personal information didn't mean he was alone in the world. After all, his own crew knew he was married, but didn't know anything about his children or what he did in his off time. It was simply a communication thing that over time would be resolved as they became better acquainted with each other.

He raised his head and looked directly at the paramedic. Gage had finally stilled his hands, having slipped the pack into his shirt pocket, the Lucky Strike's red circle prominently visible through the thin material. As he watched, John visibly relaxed his whole body as if he had suddenly thought about something and found it to be pleasant. Hammer recalled the camera that had been strung around John's neck when he had first met him as well as the shorts with the many pockets, the grubby t-shirt, and the hiking boots he had been wearing. When asked about his attire, the other man had casually remarked that he had just returned from a two day hiking trip to mellow out; he had ventured deep into the wilderness to catch some "incredible" shots. So perhaps he was already planning in his churning mind another strenuous workout miles from civilization to ease some of his worries.

Captain Hammer sighed softly as he realized all the men were, in their individual ways, dealing firmly with the as of yet unspoken tragedy that had occurred. His first thought, as he had entered the day room, of them joining together as a team to handle it was also correct as evidenced by the quiet comradery taking place. He would tell them, soon, what he had learned from that phone call received twenty minutes earlier. What they already knew deep down from having witnessed and experienced it first hand; the entire family of three adults and three children had perished in that fiery, untamed inferno, as well as a neighboring teenage girl. More details would eventually come to light as the investigation continued, the whys and the hows of it all, but for now it was more than enough to process. He was just thankful that it appeared his new crew was indeed fitting together like a well-made puzzle – all the pieces different sizes, colors, and individualized but interlocking into a tightly knit design. There were absolutely no doubts in his mind that they had all made the right choices in joining this station.

~Fini~

A/N – Thank you for joining me on this third alphabet story! I appreciate the feedback, and hope you have enjoyed the story. After a long, long dry spell I seemed to have recovered some of my writing energy. Of course I could also blame it on the very pleasant distraction of that little trip to Los Angeles in July to meet three of the stars of the show, along with Dennis Donnelly, Tim's brother!

** Things that have occurred in my "B is For Beginning" and "A is For Animals" stories.