A Good Day to Stay in Bed

by

The Twits

It was only 7:40 AM , but Roy DeSoto was not surprised to find himself the last man on his shift to arrive for duty. Roy had woken up that morning to find a blanket of fog so dense that he couldn't see the house next door from his kitchen window. Eight-year-old Chris had raced downstairs and begged his mother to let him play outside in the “spooky” yard before school. Joanne had fretted about their broken dryer and the fact that the laundry would never dry outside on the line in weather like this. Five-year-old Jennifer had insisted that it must still be night time because she couldn't see outside and refused to get out of bed.

Roy had left that battle to Joanne and headed for work without breakfast, fearing the low visibility would mean a slow commute and busy morning. But traffic wasn't as bad as he had anticipated and he arrived with twenty minutes to spare. Johnny was already at his locker. The rest of the men were gathered with the C-Shift in the day room.

“Hey.” Roy spoke to his partner as he prepared for the day. “Quite a morning, huh?”

Johnny shook his head. “It is not going to be a good day. That's for sure.”

“Well, the fog'll clear soon, I'm sure. If we can just get over the early morning hump, we'll be okay.”

“Don't count on it.”

Roy looked up and saw that Johnny was now sitting on the bench, staring at a clipping from the newspaper.

“What's that?” he asked, knowing it had something to do with Johnny's outlook for the day.

“Huh?”

“The thing you're staring at? The clipping?”

“Oh, this. You aren't going to believe this. I mean, really, I've never seen anything like this before. Man, I wish I knew what it meant.”

Roy just shook his head. “Well, if you decide you want to tell me, just let me know.” He headed for the door.

“Tell you what? And where are you going?”

“Tell me what you're staring at. And I'm going to the day room for some coffee.”

“Geesh, we start a conversation, and you just walk out in the middle?”

Roy smiled, sat down, and folded his hands on his lap. Looking at his friend, he said, “Continue.”

Now it was Johnny's turn to shake his head. “You're strange sometimes, you know?”

“Yes. Now what does that little piece of paper say that has you so perplexed?”

“This?” Johnny held up the clipping. “This is today's horoscope.”

Roy got up and headed to the door.

“Don't you want to know what it says?” Johnny almost jumped in his way.

“No,” Roy said as he took a step to go around him.

“No, really, don't you want to know?”

Roy gave up and sat back down. “Okay, sure. I want to know. What exactly does the horoscope say that has you all worked up?”

Johnny smiled in victory. “Okay, well, here's your horoscope. It says, ‘Be careful today, there's trouble ahead.'”

Roy just waited, knowing that his partner couldn't be this worked up over that. There had to be more.

Johnny continued. “Not good, but typical horoscope stuff, right? Okay, here's where it gets weird. Here's Cap's horoscope. ‘Be careful today, there's trouble ahead.'”

Roy laughed. “Someone made a typo at the paper, that's all.”

“Maybe. Everyone's horoscope is exactly the same. ‘Be careful today, there's trouble ahead.'” Johnny paused, “Everyone's but mine.”

Roy held out his hand. “Let me see that.”

Johnny handed him the clipping. Sure enough, every horoscope except Gage's said the same thing, which made Johnny's stand out even more.

“Avoid other people today. It would be a good day to stay in bed.”

If Roy was going to comment, he didn't get the chance. The klaxons demanded their attention.

“Station 51, unknown type rescue at St. Mary's Cemetery. 289 Church Street , cross street Elm.”

It was only 7:50 . Technically the call belonged to the C-Shift. But an ‘unknown type rescue' could take ten minutes or half the day. Since A-Shift was all present, they volunteered to man the call, pulling out to the sound of thanks and promises to return the favor by Hookrader and the other men on C-Shift.

* * * E! * * *

The cemetery was covered in a shroud of fog. With the limited visibility, Roy worried that they may have difficulty locating the problem. But those worries disappeared as soon as he opened the squad door. The sounds of the woman screaming pierced through the fog and the quiet neighborhood.

“Help me! Oh God, somebody help me !”

From somewhere in the fog, an elderly man appeared. The men gathered around him.

“Thank God you're here,” he said to Captain Stanley and the others. “She's been screaming like that for fifteen minutes now.”

“What's wrong? Do you know?” Stanley asked.

“Not a clue,” the man replied shaking his head, “but it sure don't sound good. The wife and I were just out for our morning walk when we heard those screams, so I told her, ‘Martha, you go call the fire department, I'll wait here.' So she did and I did and here we are.”

Mike, Chet, and Marco had already headed toward the screams. Roy and Johnny were grabbing some of their equipment as Cap tried to get some more information.

“Has she said anything else? Do you think she's hurt? Did you call the police?”

“Why would I call the police? The police can't do nothin' ‘bout ghosts. I figure the fire department though, you guys could maybe foam them down or somethin', you know?”

Roy and Johnny looked at each other and headed in the same direction as the others, leaving their captain to deal with the imagination of the Good Samaritan.

* * * E! * * *

Even in the thick fog, the woman in distress was not difficult to find. Her screams for help led the men to a plot near the middle of the cemetery. Roy stopped in his tracks when he got close enough to see through the heavy haze. There in front of him, crying and screaming for help, was a woman buried up to her hips, clinging to a head stone.

“Oh, God. Help me! Please help me! Somebody get me out of here!”

Johnny motioned to the others to stand back as he approached. They had no idea what had happened and they didn't want to make the situation any worse. Gage carefully made his way up behind the headstone so he was facing the woman. He crouched down to get as close to eye level as he could.

“Ma'am, it's okay. We're with the fire department. We'll get you out. Are you hurt? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Oh, God. Please, God. Help me! Don't leave me here.”

Johnny reached out to touch her hand. “It's okay. We're not gonna leave you here. We'll get you out, but I need to know what happened. How did this happen? Can you tell me?”

The woman grabbed Johnny's hand in a fiercely tight grip and just sobbed louder, screaming again for them to help. The paramedic looked at the others and shrugged his shoulders before trying again.

As Johnny tried to calm down the trapped woman, Roy contacted the hospital while Mike, Chet and Marco began to plan how to get the woman free.

“Ma'am, what's your name?” Gage asked. The sobbing continued. “Can you tell me your name?” There was no response but more cries to be freed. The woman, however, had not loosened her grip on her rescuer.

Johnny needed to do something to break through the hysteria. He reached forward with his free hand and took hold of the woman's chin, turning her face to look directly into his.

“Now listen,” he demanded. “You are going to be all right, but you have to stop crying. This is not doing you any good. Before we can get you out, we have to know how you got in there, so stop crying and talk to me.”

The woman looked into his face and continued to shake, but spoke directly to Johnny for the first time. “He has me and he won't let go! Make him let go!”

“Who has you?” The paramedic was beginning to suspect that they were going to have to go forward with limited information.

“My grandfather. He always was a mean old man when he was alive and now he's trying to pull me down into hell with him. Don't let him. I don't want to die!”

“You are not going to die and I won't let you go anywhere, okay? What's your name?”

“ Alice . Get me out of here, please. Hurry before it's too late.”

Johnny tested the ground between where he was kneeling and Alice . He felt a give that kept him from moving in any closer. He knew he may already be too close. He looked up at the others. The men had gathered shovels and rope, waiting for the word from Johnny to proceed. Cap was near the headstone, keeping a safe distance, holding a marble angel in his hand. A metal can and a paint brush sat near his feet.

“ Alice ,” Johnny tried again. “Were you trying to put the angel back on the headstone?”

Between sobs Alice shook her head. “It didn't fall off. It's new. My mother bought it and asked me to come here and attach it to the headstone. I was just starting when he reached up and grabbed my legs and pulled me down. Oh God, please help me.”

“Okay, we're going to help you now. Alice , I don't think anyone or anything grabbed you, okay? I think the earth just gave way. That can happen sometimes. Earth can settle and run off water can create holes underground. We're going to dig you out, okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“My ankle hurts. I think he's squeezing it.”

Kind of like you're squeezing my wrist, Johnny thought as he took her other wrist with his free hand and checked her pulse.

“Hey, Roy . Can you toss me the stuff so I can get some vitals and see if Rampart will let us get some meds on board here? We're gonna have to dig her out rather than pull. Her ankle may be broken.”

Roy got the equipment for Johnny while Mike and Marco began to figure out the best way to dig without causing a further cave in. Chet approached Cap, who stood over Johnny and Alice, marble angel still in hand.

“Uh, Cap?” Chet whispered.

Captain Stanley looked at his man. “What?”

“Do you think we really should be digging here? I mean, this is a cemetery after all. There are dead people under those shovels, you know?”

“What exactly do you think we should do? Leave her here perhaps?”

“Well no, I don't mean… it's just … Hey, Cap? Maybe I should go back and watch over the engine and squad, you know? You never know what might happen to them in a neighborhood like this.”

“A neighborhood like this? What, some little old lady is going to steal the engine? Get your butt back there and help. And, Chet, not one word to further upset this lady, right?”

Chet said nothing. Nor did he move.

“Chet?” Cap pushed.

“Right, Cap. Just don't say I didn't warn ya.”

* * * E! * * *

It took the men twenty minutes to get the woman free. Rampart had authorized a tranquilizer, after which the process had proceeded much more quickly and quietly. Despite Chet's fears, there was no sign of paranormal activity. Still holding the angel, Captain Stanley approached Roy as the ambulance attendants loaded the woman into the ambulance that had been able to pull up close to the gravesite.

“Is she okay?” Cap wondered.

“Oh yeah. The ankle's probably only sprained. I'm gonna ride with her since we gave her the tranquilizer, but she'll be fine. You can give Johnny the angel to bring with him so we can give it back to her.”

“Send Gage in with her.”

Cap's instructions took Roy by surprise. He never got himself involved in those decisions, unless he thought someone was hurting.

“Why, did Johnny hurt himself? Is he okay? I didn't notice anything.”

“No, he's fine. Send Gage. I want you here to help with the clean up.”

Roy had no idea what was going on, but he could find no reason to contradict his captain so he just nodded and went to tell his partner.

Roy came back to find Cap talking to Chet. “Go stay with the engine. Make sure no one messes with her.”

“Huh? You told me I was being stupid before. Now that the fog's started to clear you're worried about the engine? Why?”

“Just do it, Kelly.”

Chet grabbed some equipment and headed back toward the entrance. Roy, Mike, and Marco looked at each other and made sure to avoid looking at their boss.

DeSoto picked up the oxygen tank and turned toward the path when Cap stopped him.

“ Roy , come over here.” The paramedic stopped, put the tank down, and turned to face Captain Stanley.

“Okay, Cap. What's going on? Do you want me to take that angel?”

“Yes. I would like nothing better than to have you take this angel. But you can't.”

Now all three men were looking at the captain.

“Huh?” was all Roy could make himself say.

“You can't take it, because it's stuck to my hand. The damn stuff she was using must be pretty good, because the thing is stuck to my hand.”

The stunned paramedic looked at his captain. "Huh?"

Cap started to reply, stopped himself and sighed loudly. "Is that all you can say, DeSoto?" He was starting to feel more frustrated with each passing minute.

"Sorry, Cap." Roy could see that his superior was not joking and he was far from amused. "Guess this calls for a trip to Rampart."

"No!"

Marco and Mike looked at each other and tried to hide their grins. If possible Cap was worse about going to the hospital than Gage was.

"We don't carry anything on the squad that will break down strong adhesives. However, they do have something in the ER that'll work."

"I'd rather not go to Rampart."

"I understand but I don't see any other way."

"Can't we stop and buy something, and do it at the station?"

"No. Cap, if we did that and it didn't work or caused you further injury, that would not be good. For any of us."

"I know, I know. All right, Roy , are you sure they can get this thing unstuck from me?"

DeSoto stifled a laugh. "Yeah, Cap. I'm positive."

"Fine," he grumbled. "It's not funny."

The other two firefighters quickly gathered the last of the equipment and headed for the truck. They didn't want their captain to see that they were laughing at his predicament.

"What about Kelly? I don't want him to know. He'll . . . well, you know Chet."

"Yeah, Cap. I'm sure Mike and Marco will keep quiet. I'll just tell Chet you're riding in with me to return the angel."

"He'll be suspicious. He'll never let me live this down. We need something to satisfy him."

Roy chuckled at his captain's growing paranoia. "Well, if you're holding the statue, it can't get broken should I have to suddenly stop. Right?"

"True. Thanks, Roy ."

"Shall we then?"

Hank Stanley followed his paramedic to the squad. Roy opened the door and once the captain was inside, he pulled Mike to the side and explained Cap's request. The engineer nodded and climbed into the driver seat.

"Engine 51, 10-7. Accompanying Squad 51 on follow-up to Rampart General," Stoker informed the dispatcher.

"10-4, Engine 51."

The engineer pulled out and followed the squad to the hospital.

"What's going on? Why are we going to Rampart? What did Gage do this time?"

"Just making a delivery, Chet."

"Aw man. Couldn't Roy do it? Why did Cap have to go too?"

"Chet, would you cut it out? If Cap wanted to personally make sure the lady got her angel back who are we to argue?"

"We never did that before. Why - "

"She was really freaked out, Chet. I know I felt bad for her."

Chet mumbled something and then quieted down. "I just hope our next call isn't so...weird." The call still had him spooked. Staring out the window he was glad to see that the sky was brightening and the fog would be completely gone soon.

Marco laughed. "I know what you mean, Chet. Starting the day off in a fog-covered cemetery is a little hard to take. C-Shift owes us big time for this one!"

"Let's hope the day doesn't get any stranger."

"Awww, Mike, what'd you have to go and jinx us for?"

"Grow up, Chet. I didn't jinx us."

The stocky Irishman was about to reply but a look from the oft silent engineer stopped him. He thought it was a better idea to remain silent.

* * * E! * * *

"You know, Roy , your partner is going to have just as much fun with this as Kelly."

"I doubt it. He's had some pretty weird things happen to him over the last few years. A friendly reminder should be all that's necessary to keep him quiet. Cap, you okay?"

"My hand is cramping and starting to get really itchy."

"We'll be there soon."

* * * E! * * *

Dixie McCall set a stack of charts down on the counter and smiled as she saw the two firefighters approaching. "Hi, Hank, Roy . What a beautiful angel!"

"Hi, Dix."

"Hi, Dixie . Yeah it is but I'd like to get rid of it quickly."

"Well, set it down. It's not yours?"

"It belongs to the lady Johnny brought in," said Roy .

"Go on and set it down over here, Hank," she said pointing to an area beside the base station.

"I'd like to but I can't."

"Why not?" she asked, clearly puzzled by his reluctance to let go.

"It's - " Roy began but was interrupted by his captain.

"It's stuck to my hand."

Dixie looked back and forth between the two for confirmation. "You're serious aren't you."

"Afraid so."

"The victim was gluing it to the headstone at the cemetery and I guess the glue wasn't fully dry when I picked it up. I thought she'd like to hang on to it but - "

"Instead, you're hanging on to it for her? How thoughtful," she grinned.

"Well I didn't plan to hold it permanently . If you know what I mean."

Dixie laughed. "Yes, I do. Roy , take him into Treatment Room Three and I'll go and get Mike."

* * * E! * * *

Dr. Morton entered the treatment room with a huge smile. "You know, I was certain that Dixie was kidding when she said it was you, Captain Stanley. I thought for sure it had to be Gage."

Hank sighed. "No, it really is me . Even I can't believe it."

"Any idea what type of glue she was using?"

"No, the can was unmarked. We should've brought it along."

The doctor carefully examined the firefighter's hand and the marble angel attached to it. "I think we can remove your little friend here in no time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Let me get the acetone. I'll be right back."

Hank visibly relaxed. It was as if the weight of an entire marble mountain had been lifted from his shoulders. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," he muttered.

"Sounds like the same solvent he used on a patient we had a while back. Man glued a model ship to his hands. Absolutely refused to allow us take it apart or break it away from his hands. Said it was a replica of a ship he sailed in his youth. It meant the world to him and Dr. Morton managed to remove it intact."

"That's good news, Roy ."

The door opened slowly and Johnny stepped into the room. "Dix said you were in here. What's going on?"

"Uh - "

"Well - "

He cracked a smile when he saw the angel. "That was really nice of you to bring that in. Alice will be glad to get it back. Said she was going to let her mother take care of it this time. She's feeling a lot better now."

"Well, she can't have it just yet."

A puzzled look crossed Johnny's face. Roy spoke up to explain. "She was gluing it to the headstone."

"Yeah, I know."

"The stuff hadn't dried when Cap picked it up." He gave his partner a meaningful look.

"Okay." Gage looked between the two and then his eyes settled on the marble figurine. "Oh! Geez, sounds like something that would happen to me , Cap."

"Thanks, John, that makes me feel a lot better," he sighed.

Roy looked at his partner. "Chet doesn't know and Cap wants it to stay that way."

"That isn't going to be easy." A dark look from Hank and he quickly added, "But he won't hear it from me!"

The sound of the door opening and closing brought their attention around. Mike Morton began gathering supplies. "Okay, out you two. Stop pestering my patient. This won't take long."

* * * E! * * *

Twenty minutes later, Captain Stanley emerged from the treatment room freed from his marble companion. "Ready to go, gentlemen?"

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison. The three men departed with a wave to the head nurse.

* * * E! * * *

"It's about time! What took you so long? How could it take so much time to drop off a statue?"

"Kelly - be quiet. I don't know about you but I am ready to go home now. I need a good strong cup of coffee."

"Everything okay, Cap?"

"Yeah, Mike. The mission was a success."

"Hey, Cap? What'd you do to your hand? Was that bandage there this morning? I don't remember - "

"Chet - "

"I know. Be quiet," he said sullenly.

"Thank you."

Mike had a hard time keeping the mirth from his voice as he called the engine back in service and informed dispatch they were returning to station. Marco reached over and patted his friend's shoulder. "It'll be okay. The day is still young."

"Don't you jinx us too, Marco." That statement elicited a couple of snickers as Stoker pulled the engine out into early morning traffic behind the squad.

* * * E! * * *

The ride back to the station in the squad was much quieter. "So, Roy, with a start like this what do you think our day is gonna be like?"

Roy shook his head. He got out of the squad after having backed it into its customary space in the garage. As the two paramedics entered the dayroom, Roy offered, "Ask me that again after we have some coffee."

Gage laughed and set to making a large pot of the brew. Roy sat down and began to look through the morning paper that had been delivered to the station. A few minutes later the rest of the crew filed into the dayroom. The eagerly anticipated coffee was well received. A content silence filled the room as each man savored his own cup. However their peace was shattered as the tones sounded.

"Station 51, unknown type rescue at Flander's Farm. 1875 Warlock Lane . 1875 Warlock Lane . Time out 09:35 ."

"Here we go again," said Chet as the men abandoned their coffee and hurried to the trucks.

* * * E! * * *

Roy drove the squad down a dirt road past a wooden plank fence, the engine close behind. When they got near a house and barn, the trucks were brought to a stop. Johnny and Roy met up with the others as a woman with graying hair hurried toward them from across a grassy field.

“Hey! He's out this way!” She waved for them to follow.

Not knowing exactly what they were up against, the paramedics and engine crew took most of the squad's emergency equipment and trotted in an effort to catch up to the woman.

“Man, for an older lady. . . she sure can. . . run,” Chet commented, somewhat winded. He was leaning to the right as he carried the trauma box and rushed to keep up.

“I just wish she'da told us. . . what was wrong before taking off,” Johnny added.

As they came to the edge at the other end of the field, Roy pointed. “Looks like we got our answer.”

Hank and his men slowed as the woman ahead of them came to a stop just in front of what used to be a pond, but was now a mucky, murky mess resembling dark quicksand. A man, also with graying hair, was up to his hips in the mud with a white duck dirtied from the substance cradled in his arms. A partially rusted green pickup truck sat parked nearby on the dirt road that lined the parameter of the field.

Chet made a quick observation to Marco as they took in the sight. “That road goes all the way around here from where the trucks are. I wonder why she didn't just tell us to drive over.”

Overhearing the comment, the woman gasped. “Oh, where is my mind at times? I didn't even think about that.”

The firemen all stared at the woman a moment in disbelief as they caught their breath. Her trapped husband explained. “Her mind's not as sharp as it used to be. She tends to do everything the hard way now-a-days.”

“At least I had the presence of mind not to go into that mess after a bird.”

“He has a name, if you recall. Buck.”

The woman opened her mouth to respond when Hank Stanley interrupted. “All right, all right. You two can sort it out later. It looks to me like you've got bigger problems. You and the duck look to be stuck.”

The man nodded. “That we are. Or at least I am now. Buck's just stuck with me because his wings are too covered in dried mud. He won't fly.”

“Okay.” Captain Stanley assessed the situation a moment while Roy asked the man another question.

“Can you move your legs in there at all?”

“Nope. I'm really stuck. My feet have sunk down into the stuff, I think. I have hip waders on, but it went inside them as well.”

Hank looked to his men. “Mike, go back to the engine and bring it around. We'll need the ladders to get over to him. Roy , why don't you get the squad. We may as well have both trucks handy in case.”

Both men nodded and trotted back across the field. The others stood at the edge of the muck to figure out how they'd position the ladders to reach the man.

“Just sit tight and we'll have you out of there. . .uh. . .”

The man looked at Johnny and grinned. “I guess I can't do much else. And the name's Chuck.”

“Chuck. Okay, Chuck.” Buck and Chuck. What else with a day like today?

Captain Stanley motioned with his hands as he explained a strategy to the others. “We can lay a ladder across the muck horizontally on either side of Chuck and Buck, so each end is resting on solid ground.” He looked at Johnny. “You and Roy can crawl out to them with a safety belt. One of ya get the duck, while the other gets Chuck set up to get out of the muck.”

“And on his way in his truck,” Marco added.

The men all looked at Lopez and groaned inwardly.

* * * E! * * *

Once Mike and Roy brought the trucks around, the plan started without a hitch. Johnny slowly crawled across one of the ladders, while Roy went along on the other. Since Chuck was facing Gage, he handed Buck to him with outstretched arms. With the duck cradled under one arm, Johnny slowly made his way across the remainder of the ladder toward firmer ground. Twice he teetered and had to pause.

I hope I don't lose my balance and fall in the muck with the duck. It would be just my luck. Man, now I'm doin' it, too. This place is gonna have us all sounding like Mother Goose.

After a couple of minutes, Johnny had made his way to safety. He released Buck, then turned to watch the others free Chuck.

Roy had handed a safety belt to the trapped man and Chuck secured it around his waist. With a rope tied off to the belt, the engine crew pulled in an effort to bring Chuck up out of the muck. Roy leaned forward slightly, trying to lift up on the victim as the others continued to tug on the rope.

I hope Chuck's weight doesn't pull me into this muck face first , Roy thought.

The men all grunted as they worked to get the suction holding the man in broken. Johnny carefully made his way across the same ladder Roy was on and helped to lift up on the trapped man. Finally they were able to free Chuck's lower half and the paramedics maneuvered him onto the ladder.

The man glanced at his wet and muddy stocking feet. “I suppose asking you guys to find my hip boots is a little much.”

Roy looked at where Chuck had been stuck. The muck had already covered up the spot, hiding any sign that anyone had ever been in there. DeSoto nodded. “Yeah.”

Johnny led the way off the ladder, Chuck in between the two paramedics as they crawled across to the other side. Roy made sure their recently rescued victim didn't end up falling back in the murky muck underneath them.

With all eyes on the three men stepping onto firm ground again, no one paid any attention to Buck. That is, not until Chet noticed the attention wanting bird make an unprovoked charge at them from several feet away. Surprised, he could think of only one thing to say.

“Duck!”

The men quickly looked around to see what they were supposed to be ducking from, while Mike stooped down, figuring he could find out afterwards. From his lower vantage point, he saw Buck coming straight toward him. Stoker reached out to stop the bird, when it nipped at his fingers. The engineer jumped back and found himself flailing his arms as he lost his balance and toppled backwards into the murky, mucky pond between the two ladders.

“Mike!” Chet and Marco quickly scrambled on to an end of each ladder and grabbed for Stoker, who'd already sunk into the mess backside first. The engineer spit and spat as they tugged to get his wet, muddy body upright. Hank reached out and, grabbing his right hand, helped Mike back to solid ground while the other two came to assist. Mike was a mess from head to toe.

“You all right, pal?”

“Yeah,” Mike coughed. “I don't think I swallowed any of that stuff. . .”

Suddenly another yell from Chet interrupted them. “Oh yuck!”

Captain Stanley frowned at the fireman's outburst he figured was directed at Mike.

Kelly shrugged as he grimaced and lifted one foot in an attempt to examine the sole of his shoe. “Sorry, Cap, but I stepped in some duck doo.”

Hank shook his head, then brought his attention back to Mike. Johnny was now beside him and checking out his condition.

“After we rinse him off with a hose, why don't you guys take him in to Rampart just to be safe.”

“Sure, Cap.”

Chuck sat on the ground near Roy . “I forgot to tell you guys, Buck doesn't like being ignored.”

* * * E! * * *

Since neither Chuck nor the duck were injured, the firemen loaded their equipment back on the trucks and prepared to leave. Roy got in on the driver's side of the squad as Mike slid in from the passenger side, a yellow blanket wrapped around him as he shivered. Johnny started to join them when he took one look at where he was to sit and frowned.

“Man, what a mess!”

“What?”

“Marco may have hosed you down, but you still sorta left a trail of muck, Mike.”

Roy waited as his partner grabbed a turn out coat from one of the compartments and placed it on the seat after folding the coat up. With a satisfied grin, Johnny climbed in and sat on the clean surface. As Roy put the squad into gear, Gage commented, “You know, I thought for sure if anyone was gonna fall in that muck, it would've been me. Maybe my luck's changin'.”

“Or ours is,” Mike said. “First Cap, now this. . .”

Johnny and Roy thought back to the horoscopes, then exchanged a glance, neither sure what the other was thinking.

Nah , they each thought to themselves. Nobody's horoscopes can all be the same. . .that had to be a misprint.

* * * E! * * *

“Well, shall we go?” Hank asked his remaining men. “Hopefully Stoker will be okay.” He addressed Chuck. “I'd say next time your duck--”

“Buck.”

“Buck. Well, next time Buck gets stuck in the muck, I'd say call for a professional to get him out for you.”

“Oh, I will don't worry. Thank you for your help. ”

“That's what we're here for.”

Chuck climbed in his pickup truck where his wife and the duck were waiting. He started the engine and pulled away.

Chet shook his head. “Good thing it was just Chuck and his duck Buck who were stuck in the muck with no luck and not the truck.”

“Kelly.”

“By the way, what was his wife's name? Anyone know?”

Hank Nodded. “Edna.”

* * * E! * * *

Doctor Brackett removed the stethoscope from Mike's shirtless back and his own ears, and folded his arms across his chest, letting the equipment hang from his neck. “Well, Mike, everything sounds okay. You lungs seem fine.”

Stoker nodded as Roy handed him his shirt. “I'm pretty sure I spit out any of the stuff that got in my mouth.”

“How do you feel?”

“Wet, kinda dirty, wet and cold. But otherwise fine.”

“A hot shower and clean uniform'll take care of that.” The doctor smiled and addressed the paramedics. “Wasn't your captain just in here with Doctor Morton not too long ago?”

Johnny nodded. “Yep. It's turned out to be that kind of start to the day, Doc.”

“Sounds like one of those days where you'd all be better off staying in bed.”

* * * E! * * *

As they filed out of the treatment room, Johnny turned to face the other two. “You know, Brackett may have a point.”

“Yeah, but I don't think the fire department would agree to it.”

Being an optimist, Mike really didn't believe the whole day could go wrong. But a little nagging voice in his head told him it was probably a good idea to keep his mouth shut. . .just in case what Chet said earlier, about being a jinx, was possible.

* * * E! * * *

“Hi, guys.” Dixie smiled as the three firemen walked up to the base station.

“Hey,” Johnny replied, while Roy just nodded his head, and the slightly embarrassed engineer gave a quick, almost timid, smile.

Johnny went about getting a few supplies while Roy chatted with Rampart's head nurse.

“How's your day going?” he asked while leaning on the counter.

“We've been pretty slow. If it wasn't for you two, we'd only be receiving civilians bringing themselves in.”

Somewhat surprised, Roy asked, “What?”

Johnny lifted his head casually with mild interest in the conversation, taking a quick break from counting gauze's.

“No other squad's been in yet this morning.”

“You're kidding?” Roy asked in shock. “It's almost eleven o'clock !”

“I know. But it's true.” Dixie smirked and turned her attention to the quiet engineer standing beside Roy . “How are you, Mike?”

“Okay.” He answered softly, feeling way out of his element standing around the hospital corridor.

Doctor Early walked up and smiled at the not-so-frequent patient standing near the paramedics. “Well, hello. What brings you in today?”

Wishing he could sink once again into a pond full of muck, Mike faced the jovial doctor and replied, “Nothing serious; just had a little fall.”

Seeing his friend's unease Roy piped up, smiling, “He'll be fine, Doc, just needs a nice long warm shower and a change of uniform.”

“A bite to eat might help, too.” Johnny joined in.

All heads turned to the lean man. A few groans and some eye rolling went along with the stares.

“What? I'm hungry,” came Gage's response to the obvious amusement of his friends.

“You ready?” his partner asked.

“Hm…”

“Let's get back to the barn then.”

Johnny scooped up the box of supplies and waved his goodbye to his hospital colleague's, joining his crewmates walking down the hall and out to the squad.

* * * E! * * *

Rooting through the refrigerator, Marco emerged with an armful of ingredients to start making lunch for himself and his co-workers. While humming the latest Jim Croce song, he placed the items on the counter and then bent at the waist, reaching into a lower cupboard and taking out the cutting board. Moving to his left, he pulled open a drawer and grabbed a knife. Giving the drawer a hip check, he then pulled out a frying pan and placed it onto the stovetop.

Today's lunch would be a hot taco salad. He figured Mike would enjoy a warm meal over his original plan of ‘make-your-own-sandwiches-and-salads'. Unwrapping the ground beef from its cellophane and placing it into the skillet, he neglected turning on the heat and turned his attention to the vegetables on the counter instead. Picking up a couple of cooking onions, he placed them on the cutting board and sliced off their heads. Walking over to the garbage pail, he threw the heads in and proceeded to remove the skins, then returned to the counter.

Cutting each onion in half, he turned the first quarter upright and placed two slices in it without cutting right through. Returning the bulb lengthwise he sliced the onion length wise without completely cutting the pieces off. Repeating the same process with the rest of the onion pieces, preparing them to be cut into small diced cubes, he started to chop at the well rehearsed pace of a man who enjoyed cooking. He soon substituted his humming with a soft whistle.

* * * E! * * *

Mike, Roy and Johnny were welcomed upon their return and all members of the crew were relieved to find Mike was fine. Meaning he wouldn't have to miss any time on the job, and they wouldn't have to break in a new engineer for the rest of what was turning into a rather bizarre shift.

Eager to get cleaned up and changed, Stoker made a beeline to the locker room as soon as the others finished greeting him. In less than ten minutes, he was once again in the dayroom and waiting for Lopez to finish preparing lunch.

But just as Johnny was taking a seat beside Hank at the table and Roy was picking up the telephone receiver to make a quick phone call to Joanne, Marco let out a yelp.

All heads turned in the direction of the shriek to see their friend wildly shaking his left hand up and down. Realizing his crewmate was splattering blood with this action, Roy replaced the receiver and was at Marco's side in three quick strides.

The senior paramedic reached into a drawer and pulled out a clean dishtowel, calling out, “Johnny,” from pure habit. Roy quickly wrapped the cloth around Marco's bleeding finger, and applied pressure.

“How deep is it?” He looked into Marco's pale face just as Johnny arrived.

“I think it's pretty deep. I'm feeling a little dizzy.”

Gage placed his hands on his injured friend's shoulders and steered him towards a chair, forcing him into it.

“Chet, call in a still alarm,” Hank ordered.

The stocky fireman wasted no time doing as ordered and quickly placed a phone call to headquarters.

While Roy continued to apply pressure, Johnny reached for Marco's uninjured hand and felt for a pulse. He silently counted the beats and frowned at the cloth in his partner's hands. It was quickly becoming red and didn't seem to be letting up. He hadn't realized Mike had left the room until the man placed the trauma box on the kitchen table.

“Thanks, Mike.”

The only response from the lanky man was a quick nod of his head. Once Johnny had the box unlatched, he handed Roy some sterile gauze, which Roy quickly replaced the towel with. Seeing how quickly the stark white material turned scarlet red concerned both paramedics as well as their captain.

Hank glanced at Roy and noticed the man's body language. He didn't like the situation one bit.

“ Roy ?”

Slowly removing the gauze to take a quick look, Roy immediately replaced it. “Doesn't look good, Cap. How ya doin', Marco?”

“Feeling a little sick to my stomach.”

Hank winced, not liking the sound of that anymore than the subtle body language of his paramedics.

“I think you're gonna need stitches,” Roy told his friend.

Hearing this news, the captain turned to Chet. “Let headquarters know I'm standing down the station until further notice, due to a code I.”

* * * E! * * *

Knowing they had more of a chance at being seen quickly if they went straight to the nurses' station instead of admitting, the three fireman walked up to the counter at which head nurse Dixie Mc Call was talking on a telephone corresponding with Squad 110.

Looking up and seeing her two favorite paramedics, Dixie flashed them a smile while writing down the vital signs of a victim as Doctor Morton arrived.

Once he took over at the base station, she turned towards the firemen. “What brings you by?”

Marco held up his now bandaged hand. Dixie took one look and all three of the men standing in front of her weren't sure whether it was a look of amusement mixed with bewilderment on her face, but each noticed the moment it quickly faded into obvious concern.

“How in the world…” she didn't get a chance to finish her sentence.

“I lost a round with a butcher knife,” Marco explained.

“Come on, Four's empty.” Dixie jumped off her stool and led the way to Treatment Room Four. Once Marco was settled on the examination room table and his vitals taken, she told him she'd send in a doctor as soon as possible.

Roy and Johnny stood silently wondering how long this was going to take. Marco didn't seem to be doing too well. His vitals didn't concern either of them, but his dizziness and nausea didn't sit well with either of them. They both realized Marco was probably going to need a couple of stitches, but were trying to decide whether or not he'd be able to return to duty when the door opened and Doctor Brackett walked in carrying a clipboard.

* * * E! * * *

Captain Stanley, Mike and Chet sat at the table in the dayroom, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in front of them. Chet took a bite of his and slowly chewed, a disapproving expression on his face. He mumbled around the sticky food, then waited for a comment from the others.

“What'd you say?” Mike asked.

Kelly swallowed the piece of sandwich and washed it down with a swig of milk before answering. “I said, you'd think we'd have something more than peanut butter and jelly as a backup plan.

“At least we only had to use a butter knife to fix ‘em,” Hank put in. “Right now, I don't think anyone of us belongs around any sharp objects.”

Mike nodded in agreement. “I wonder how Marco's doing.”

The three each glanced at their own watch. Unless the ER at Rampart was extremely busy, it wouldn't be much longer before they'd have their answer.

* * * E! * * *

Kel Brackett grinned at the trio from Station 51. “I see you guys must not've taken my advice to go to bed,” he teased.

Johnny shook his head. “But that's sounding more and more like a better idea,” he snorted.

Getting more serious, the doctor stepped over to the table and took a close look at the red stained bandaging on Marco's hand. “Looks like you've lost quite a bit of blood. You must've sliced it pretty deep. How're you feeling?”

“Kind of dizzy.”

“I'm not surprised.” He looked at the paramedics. “Nice job of wrapping it, guys.”

“Thanks, but we can't take all the credit,” Johnny said. “Marco here had a hand in it.”

The other three groaned inwardly at the sorry humor.

“Can I ask one favor, Doc?” Marco wondered.

“Sure.”

“Can you cut a hole in the wall and let me stick my hand through before you unwrap it?” he half joked. “I'm not sure I can look at it again.”

“He's been feeling pretty nauseated,” Roy explained.

Brackett smiled in understanding. “Well, I'm not sure the hospital administrator would go for an arm hole in the wall, but closing your eyes works pretty good.”

Marco shrugged. “Can't blame a guy for trying.” He closed his eyes, then couldn't help but peek to see just how bad the wound looked. Right away he realized it was a bad move on his part. The bleeding had subsided enough to see the actual cut better. The gaping slit with layers of skin on either side was all he needed to see and he nearly lost his battle with the nausea. “It . . .never seems. . .as bad. . .when. . .it's someone. . .else.”

“Don't worry. Most doctors feel the same way.”

“And paramedics,” Johnny added.

Roy looked at his partner in wonder. Minor wounds of their own had never bothered either of them. Gage shrugged and pointed to Lopez.

Finally the finger was stitched after Marco had a local anesthesia to numb the area around the wound. Dixie brought in a glass of orange juice for him to drink for a quick boost of energy. Though the finger was sore, Brackett padded it well with bandages.

“You can go back on duty, but any problem with stitches loosening or popping, and I'm going to pull you off till your next shift at least.” He looked at Johnny and Roy, remembering they'd been in twice before with other shiftmates. He then brought his attention back to Marco and teased, “You sure you want to go back on duty? This may be your chance to hide.”

“Hey, we're a family,” Johnny quickly put in. “We stick together through the good times and the bad, right Marco?”

No answer. ..

“Marco. . .?”

“I'm thinking. . .I'm thinking.”

Johnny put his hand on Lopez's shoulder after the fireman got down off the exam table; Gage guided him toward the door. “C'mon.”

Roy addressed Brackett as they exited the room. “See you later. Hopefully not with one of us as a patient again. . .” One thing popped in his mind. We're like the ten little Indians, only six of us instead. . . first Cap, then Mike, then Marco. . .and then there were three. . .

* * * E! * * *

The flurry of concerned welcomes from the rest of the station crew finally died down. Because Marco's finger was so heavily bandaged, he was excused from cleaning and was currently relaxing on the couch next to the slumbering station mascot Henry the Bassett hound.

With a sigh, Captain Stanley excused himself. "More paperwork to take care of for headquarters. Can you guys try and stay out of trouble for the rest of the day?"

"Cap!" Chet protested. "You'll jinx us!"

"Sure, Cap," Stoker replied with a smile.

Johnny made sandwiches for Roy and himself. "Marco, you want something to eat?"

"I think I'll wait until my stomach settles down. Thanks anyway, Johnny."

"If you change your mind, just let me know. Hey, Roy? Milk or coffee?"

"Milk sounds--" The tones went off and both men groaned.

"Man, I'm hungry!" Johnny groaned, quickly slamming the jelly back in the refrigerator. He tossed the bread onto the counter and followed his partner to the squad, passing Captain Stanley on the way.

"Squad 51, man down at 4199 West Arroyo. Four One Nine Nine West Arroyo, cross street Gainsaw. Time out 1348."

"Squad 51, KMG 365." Captain Stanley quickly jotted down the address, handing the slip of paper to Roy who passed it on to Johnny.

As they pulled out of the station, Johnny frowned. "Isn't that the police substation?"

"Yeah, I think so," his partner replied.

"Wonder what happened?"

"We'll find out soon."

As they arrived at the small building, the two paramedics saw a large group of people gathered around. The crowd consisted entirely of police officers from both the Los Angeles City and the Los Angeles County Sheriff Departments, none of whom seemed too concerned. Johnny grabbed the gear from the squad while Roy made his way through the laughing officers.

Once he made it to the center of the crowd, Roy spotted Officer Vince Howard kneeling beside a city policeman who was gripping his arm and grimacing. A young woman was sitting cross-legged beside them, talking softly to the man and giving dirty looks to the others around them.

Johnny caught up with Roy , eyeing the strange reactions of the cops. He leaned closer to his partner and muttered, "Man, this is really weird."

"Tell me about it. Hey, Vince."

"Roy, John, we've got to stop meeting like this. This is Officer Bob Corella. We think his arm is broken."

"Uh huh." Roy reached for the officer's arm, assisted by the young woman in civilian clothing. "What happened?"

This question elicited more chuckles from the crowd and earned another glare from the woman. "Y'all shut up now! It isn't funny."

"Sure it is, Kath. Bumper Bob here broke his own arm showing off. You can't get much funnier than that," one of the men said with a smile.

" Roy , this is Kathy Unger. She was scheduled to ride along with L.A. 's finest tonight. I came late to this party, so I'll let Kathy tell you what happened." Vince coughed into his hand while gently patting Bob on the shoulder.

While Roy took Bob's vitals and Johnny contacted Rampart, Kathy clutched the officer's other hand in sympathy. With a deep breath and one more fierce look at the other men surrounding them, the brunette launched into her story. "Well, we were waiting for day watch to come back with their cars so we could go out on night watch. I was supposed to ride with John Gavin over there. Bob, John, and Pete were talking about that cop show, the Blue Knight. Y'all ever seen it?" she asked in a soft Southern drawl.

Johnny and Roy nodded. "Sure."

"Well, on last night's episode, Bumper Morgan, the Blue Knight, used his nightstick to take down this suspect by slinging it at the man's feet while the guy was running away."

Johnny smiled. "Yeah, I remember that. That was cool."

"Yeah, it was," Kathy smiled back. "The show has Bumper using his nightstick rather than his gun to take care of business. Bob and Pete started arguing with John about whether that type of use was possible, with John saying that it was malarkey. Bob here decided to prove him wrong."

"I see," Roy murmured. "Johnny, the fracture is just above the wrist."

"Got it." Johnny gave the details to Rampart, and then turned back to Kathy. "Then what?"

Bob groaned.

"Now, Bob, the guys here all know, so you might as well bite the bullet and let me tell these nice firemen." Kathy rubbed his good arm in support.

"I know."

"Anyhow, he got a little...fancy with the use of the nightstick, flipping it around and up and down, you know?" She waited for the nods of understanding before continuing. "I think everything would've gone okay only he was standing too close to the door." Kathy pointed to the side door of the substation. "The stick smacked against it and bounced back. Hard."

"Yeah, right against my arm. You could hear the crack all over the parking lot. Damn , it hurt. Still does."

"The comedians around here called you guys, which was probably the most helpful thing they've done." Kathy sighed as Roy finished preparing the officer for transport. The ambulance had arrived and the attendants came through the crowd with the gurney.

"Awww, I can walk."

"Officer Robert Corella, you will do what these men tell you to do and how they tell you to do it. Do you hear me?" This voice was deep and commanding.

"Yes sir, Lieutenant."

"The rest of you? Those of you who are off duty, go home. Those of you who are supposed to be out on patrol need to be in their cars now. Move it!"

The crowd dispersed.

Kathy handed the stricken officer's nightstick to Johnny.

"He might want this when they release him. It's part of his uniform, ya know?" Kathy said. She glanced back at the paramedic. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for not laughing at him. You two were the only ones who didn't. That was real nice of you."

Johnny grinned. "Figured he was already in for it from his friends. He didn't need it from us as well."

"Well, it was still nice, so thank you. Tell that good-looking partner of yours the same, okay?"

Johnny stood staring as Kathy slipped into the patrol car waiting near the squad. " Roy ? Good-looking partner? What about me?"

* * * E! * * *

Back at the station, Johnny was telling Chet what happened. Since the paramedic was cleaning out the interior of the squad of their call tickets at the time, his friend was leaning in the driver's side of the squad, listening.

"He must have been doing that flippie thing, where the thong is around the wrist and you flip the stick out, back and catch it." Chet said. "Hey, look. You've still got that cop's nightstick."

"Ah, man, I forgot to give it to him at Rampart. Give it to me and I'll call him, find out what he wants me to do with this. Maybe we can drop it off on our next run to Rampart, if Bob is still there. He might be; emergency was really getting backed up."

Chet starting playing with the stick, backing away from Johnny. "Lemme try this."

"Chet, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I know what I'm doing. Anyway, I'm not near any doors." Chet played with the nightstick, earning Johnny's grudging admiration for the way he flipped the stick up and caught it, then dropping it out of his hand to flip the other way.

"Man, that's good. Where'dya learn to do that?"

"Remember I told ya my grandfather worked on the subway in New York City ?"

"Yeah," Johnny replied, not seeing the connection between a train conductor and a nightstick.

"Well, his brother was a street cop in the Bronx . He had a stick just like this and would flip it around while walking his beat. I used to watch him when he'd practice."

The two men were walking to the back of the apparatus bay, Chet still showing off with the nightstick, when it happened. Marco pushed the kitchen door open and the nightstick hit the door and bounced back, straight into Chet's face.

"Arghh!" the Irishman screamed, grabbing his face, blood spurting between his fingers.

"Chet, let go. Chet, let me see." Johnny grabbed the fireman's wrists, trying to pull his hands away from his face. " Roy !"

"I'm here. Marco, get the drug box and the biophone. Mike, can you bring us some towels? Cap?"

Stanley sighed. "Yeah, I know, Roy . I'll call in a Code I. Do we need an ambulance?"

"Johnny?"

The younger man was trying to staunch the blood pouring from Chet's face enough to determine the amount of damage. "Uh, I don't think so, Cap. I'm not feeling any breaks, but he's gonna have a beaut of a black eye. Actually, two of them, I'd bet. We can drive him in to Rampart."

"Ib I don' hab a brogen noth, why go to Rambart?"

"'Cause you still need x-rays to make certain," Johnny replied. "Hey, I can drop the nightstick off to Bob while we're there."

"Derrifig," Chet grunted.

"This day is just going from bad to worse," Captain Stanley observed.

Johnny thought about the horoscopes. They seemed to carry more weight than he ever would have believed. He glanced at Roy to see if there was a reaction to Hank's words, but couldn't tell.

"You'd expect it to happen to me, wouldn't you?” Gage said, still trying to get some sort of reaction from DeSoto. The older paramedic was too busy with the biophone. Johnny continued. “But not this time. First you, then Mike, then Marco; now Chet." He shook his head, grinning. "That leaves just Roy . You'd better watch out, partner."

"John," Stanley said warningly, not wanting Chet to know about his mishap with the sticky angel, but the injured fireman was busy trying to see his nose, getting extremely cross-eyed in the process.

Roy finished talking to Rampart. "Johnny, Brackett agrees that we can drive Chet to Rampart for his x-rays. They'll decide then whether he'll be coming back on duty. We'll call you, Cap, as soon as we know something definite."

Johnny was still grinning as he helped Chet to his feet and guided him to the passenger side of the squad. It wasn't that he was taking delight in his coworkers' accidents, he was just pleased that, for once, it wasn't happening to him and that nothing life threatening was involved. What a day! he thought.

* * * E! * * *

Dr. Brackett sighed as he finished suturing the small cut on Chet Kelly's nose. The young firefighter had not stopped talking the entire time. The x-rays were negative and he wasn't showing any signs of concussion so the doctor decided against admitting him.

He exited the treatment room with Chet on his heels, still chattering. Setting the chart down, he clapped the wounded man on the back of the shoulder.

"You're free to go. Keep your nose clean," he added with a grin.

Chet's hand immediately went to the bandage on his nose. Johnny burst out laughing while Roy rolled his eyes.

"Oh har har har. Really fuddy, you duys." He promptly dropped into a chair and began to sulk. He tried glaring at his co-workers but the only thing he accomplished was to send Gage into another fit of laughter. Dixie joined in.

The bruise forming across the bridge of his nose was spreading down the sides and encompassing the area under his eyes. "What?" he shouted at them. He was holding his arms out at his sides.

"Nothing," Roy said.

Johnny snickered and said, "He's going to look like a raccoon soon."

"Gage - " Chet stood up and started to speak but his retort was cut short.

"Now, fellas," Dixie said. "Johnny, quit teasing Chet."

"Yeah, Dage, quit - "

She then turned to Kelly. "And you , quit being so sensitive."

Chet closed his mouth and sat back down.

"Good! Now I don't want to see any more of you or your co-workers the rest of the day. Got it?"

Roy smiled, "Yes, ma'am."

Johnny was still chuckling but managed a 'Yes' as well.

Chet sighed, threw his hands in the air and said, "Okay but this was not my idea!"

"You did get rid of that nightstick, didn't you?"

Gage looked at his partner. "Of course, right after I called Cap. Wouldn't want Chester here to start showing off again."

Chet stood up and Roy sighed. "C'mon you two that's enough. I'm tempted to let Johnny drive back to the station just to keep you apart!"

Chet deadpanned a look of pure terror. "Ouch!" The added facial movements made his nose hurt more. "No, Roy! Please don't do dat! I'll stob...I bromise!"

"Thanks a lot, Roy ," was all Johnny said. DeSoto had a feeling he'd inadvertently hurt his partner's feelings but wasn't certain. The two paramedics followed Chet toward the exit.

Dixie watched the three leave and smiled.

"Are they gone?" the dark-haired doctor asked as he came around the corner.

"Yeah, Kel, why?

"I have a feeling he'd talk even with a broken jaw!"

"Somehow I don't doubt that."

* * * E! * * *

The ride back to the station was not quiet. Chet continued to talk all the way home. The two paramedics didn't know which was worse - the strange run of bad luck or Chet's constant yakking.

Once the squad was parked, Chet kept up his steady conversation all the way into the kitchen where he soon found several more ears to listen to him. Gage and DeSoto exchanged amused glances and silently left the room.

"So, Roy, who's next?"

"Don't start, Johnny. It's all just a bunch of weird co-incidences."

"Yeah I guess. Like that - remember that day? It was a Wednesday I think. Nothing went right."

"Yes, I do. I don't think it'll be like that."

"But you've gotta admit - "

" Just co-incidences."

Gage looked at his partner. Roy was giving him that look again. "All right, fine. Just co-incidences."

Johnny went to retrieve the cleaning supplies and Roy backed the squad into the rear lot. The two began washing the exterior of the truck.

"Be careful you don't trip over the bucket.”

Roy cocked an eyebrow. “Would you stop? Besides, what makes you so sure I'm the only one out here who needs to watch out? If you're so sure it's the horoscopes, yours wasn't exactly bright and sunny.”

Johnny didn't respond verbally, but rather moved the bucket farther away from where they'd be stepping.

* * * E! * * *

The paramedics no sooner got the squad rinsed off when the klaxons sounded again.

"Station 51, motor vehicle accident. West Carson off-ramp at the 405. West Carson off-ramp at 405. Time out 15:08 ."

"Station 51, KMG 365." Hank Stanley tore the call slip from the notepad. "Ouch!"

"Cap? You okay?"

"Yeah, Roy ," he sighed. "Just a paper cut. Here you go."

Johnny shook his head and took the slip of paper. “Just co-incidence,” he muttered to himself.

The off-ramp was nearby so they would be there in no time.

* * * E! * * *

Arriving at the scene they found three cars involved in the accident. Having been cut off on the ramp, the driver of the first car slammed on his brakes, resulting in the car behind hitting him in the rear. The third driver didn't have enough time to react, sandwiching the car in between them. The driver of the last car was quite upset; the young lady driving the middle car was remarkably calm.

John and Roy gave the victims a quick assessment and contacted Rampart. Once it was determined that there were no life threatening injuries, Cap told Marco to wet the area down to eliminate the danger of leaking gasoline. Lopez pulled the hose from the reel and Mike charged the line. Grabbing the nozzle to begin wetting the area down, he cringed in pain. He had forgotten his injured finger. Shaking it and muttering to himself he soon managed to accomplish his task.

Mike and Chet got out the extrication equipment while they waited. Marco had stirred up some debris during the wet-down causing Chet to sneeze. Stoker couldn't help laughing as the shorter firefighter put his hands to his nose and began grousing.

"Just you wait, Mikey," he grumbled. Stoker laughed even harder as he decreased the pressure on the hose.

Soon all the victims were released from their automotive prisons. The paramedics treated the more difficult injuries while Cap and Mike helped with the minor ones. Having finished his first aid duties, Mike returned to the engine. He started snickering again when he saw Chet sitting on the guardrail and completely missed seeing the hose still partially charged and lying on the ground. He tripped over it and his right knee hit the step on the side of Big Red.

It was Chet's turn to laugh until Mike didn't get back up. He was sitting on the ground clutching his knee and shaking his head. "Uh, Cap? John? Roy ? We have a Code I over here!"

Cap turned his head not sure he heard correctly. "Chet?"

"Stoker fell. Send John or Roy over."

Hank Stanley hoped he had heard wrong. He thought to himself, I just don't believe this . "John! I need you over here please."

"What is it, Cap?" he asked.

The frustrated captain could only point in the direction of the engine.

Gage nodded and took off in Mike's direction. "What happened, Mike?"

"I tripped over the hose. I cannot believe this! Damn this hurts."

Johnny assessed the injury. "Better send for another ambulance, Cap. This needs to be looked at and x-rayed. I don't think it's broken but we need to be sure." Stoker sighed, not wanting to make another trip to Rampart. He was beginning to think they were doomed.

* * * E! * * *

With a feeling of dejavu', Mike rode back to the station seated between the two paramedics in the squad. Though discolored from a bruise, the injury to his knee turned out to be just that. . .a bruise. After demonstrating to Doctor Brackett that he had full use of it, the engineer was released for duty.

Mike screwed up his face in puzzlement as he thought back to the hospital visit. “Does Doctor Brackett always smile so much at the victims you guys bring in? I mean, I've heard of having a pleasant bedside manner, but. . .”

Johnny shook his head. “I think once he saw you were really okay, he couldn't help but grin. Think about it. We've been in and out of Rampart today like there's a revolving door on the place and it's mostly been with someone from our crew.”

“Is that why Miss McCall was so upbeat too? You know, for a nurse, she can be quite the comedian.”

“Yeah. But those comments were directed at us more so than you,” Gage explained. “I have a feeling she's not gonna let us forget this day for a long time.”

“I can't imagine that much more could happen to us,” Roy said.

Johnny and Mike both answered in unison, “I can.”

* * * E! * * *

When the shift mates got back to the station, Hank Stanley greeted them at the squad. “How'd it go?”

“Good,” Johnny answered.

“Yeah, I'm lucky. Aside from having an all too amused doctor, things went well. It's just a severe bruise.”

“Great!” Hank seemed like he was genuinely relieved, but at the same time there seemed to be an underlying uneasiness there. The three men stood in an awkward silence waiting for something more. When nothing came, Roy spoke up.

“Well, I guess we'll catch up on the log book. C'mon, Johnny.”

“Sure.” Gage glanced at the captain, still curious as to why he seemed a little restless.

Mike walked into the dayroom and waved to the injured Chet. “You look like a raccoon.”

“Don't remind me. How's the knee?”

“Just bruised,” he said lifting his foot off the floor and moving his lower leg slightly, being careful not to do it too fast. “See?” Stoker set his foot down and looked around the room. “Where's Marco?”

“Taking a nap. He felt wiped out. Where's everybody else?”

Mike glanced over his shoulder. “Roy and John are filling out the log book. . .and Cap was right behind me.” The engineer looked to Chet. “Does he seem a little on edge to you?”

“I wouldn't know. I haven't seen ‘um since we got back.”

Mike shrugged. “Maybe I was reading too much into it."

* * * E! * * *

Hank came up behind the paramedics who were busy getting their runs listed in their log book. It was then Johnny and Roy realized just how many code I's there'd been.

“Uh. . .can I talk to you two a minute?”

Both men turned around. They were concerned at the uneasiness in his voice.

“Sure,” Johnny said. Roy nodded in agreement.

“I. . .uh. . .” the captain gave a nervous laugh. “This is gonna seem like a silly question, but how are you guys at removing ticks?”

“Ticks? You mean the kind that crawl around or the kind that make you twitch?”

“Crawl around.”

“We don't exactly get training on that,” Roy said. “But I've removed them from the kids before. Why? You've got a tick on you?”

Hank nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, heck, we can help, Cap. Piece of cake,” Johnny added. He couldn't hide the relief in his voice that it wasn't more serious.

“Sure,” Roy agreed again. “Where is it? I'll get it out.”

“Well, that's the problem. I. . .uh. .. I . . .well, I went in the latrine to take care of business and when I went to aim, there it was in all its glory.” Hank waited for the laughter to follow.

But both paramedics stood beside each other, their mouths open in stunned silence. The captain looked at the shocked expressions.

“C'mon, say something . . .laugh. . . anything . . .”

“You mean the tick is on . . .”

“Yep, he sure is.”

Johnny and Roy looked at one another, then neither man could help but eye the general vicinity of the visitor. Stanley could almost feel himself shrinking more and more each second they looked.

“How could he get up. . .there?” DeSoto wondered. “I mean. . .uh. . .there's plenty of open space along the way.”

Hank sighed. “I think it might've been at the last response we were on. While you guys were busy, I had to go pretty bad. I was gonna take care of it off the highway in the weeds. But just as I got out there and in position, I heard someone walking up behind me. So I had to hurry and get back together before whoever it was saw. I guess the tick may have gotten on then. Or it did crawl up my pant leg.”

“Who came up behind you?”

“Vince Howard. He wanted to make sure I was okay. I told him I thought I was gonna be sick but turned out to be fine. That it was probably just an unsettled lunch.”

“Wow. . .what're the odds,” Johnny commented as he thought about the tick's location again.

“I really hate to do this to you guys, but. . .can you remove the tick? I would, but he's kind of. . .well. . .let's just say he's not in the easiest place for me.”

Both men were more reluctant, but slowly the nods came.

“Sure, sure we will. No problem.” Both men agreed.

* * * E! * * *

The paramedics and captain walked across the apparatus bay in silence. Each man felt like he was going to his own execution. None of the three was looking forward to the task ahead of them. When they were just behind the engine, Marco came out of the dorm, his right hand over his right eye.

“What's wrong?” Roy womdered.

“I was taking a nap and when I woke up, my eye was watery and sore. I guess somehow my finger got in it.”

“You poked yourself in the eye in your sleep ?” Johnny asked.

“Yes. And now that you put it that way. . .”

“Hey, today it doesn't sound all that bizarre. I'll take a look at it, Marco.”

Before Roy could protest, Johnny was guiding Lopez to the squad. DeSoto continued to watch the two as his captain pulled him along.

“C'mon. Let's get this over with while both of us still can.”

* * * E! * * *

After several minutes, a very relieved Hank Stanley emerged from the latrine, Roy right behind him.

“That was a lot easier than I expected. I've gotta admit, at first I didn't relish the idea of you using a match. . .not with the way things've been going lately.”

"You know, for a few seconds there I thought the head had broken off inside. Sure glad I was wrong."

Roy 's words stopped the captain in his tracks. “ Now you tell me this. . .?”

* * * E! * * *

Marco's right eye was partially closed as it continued to water. Johnny peered closer forcing the lid up more. “I could be wrong, but it looks like you sort of scratched the surface a little. You probably ought to have that--”

“Looked at,” Marco finished. “If I start having problems, I will.”

“Marco--”

Johnny was again interrupted, this time by the klaxons.

“Station 51, woman stuck, 2132 Willow Way , two one three two Willow Way , time out 17:15 ”

* * * E! * * *

An anxious middle aged man opened the door with a smile on his face. It wasn't a ‘hey, happy you could come smile', or a ‘wow it's been a long time smile', but a ‘boy am I glad to see you smile'.

“You called the fire department?” Hank asked. His paramedics stood just behind him on the front porch of the small white bungalow.

“Yeah, yeah. Betty's gone and got herself stuck.” The man let out small nervous laugh, which wasn't lost on the fire captain.

“We're here,” Hank smiled.

“She's right in here.” The man pointed to an unknown location within the premise. “Name's Jason.” He said while stepping back to allow the three firemen into his home. When the threesome advanced inside and just stood looking at the man, Jason realized they didn't know where Betty was.

“Um…right this way,” he mumbled while turning his back and walking away.

Hank did not give the man's actions a second thought. He'd gotten used to people's nervousness long ago. He assumed it was difficult to act natural when welcoming three firemen into your home in a professional capacity.

The paramedic team was even more accustomed to the behavior of harried homeowners and took the walk through the long dark hallway in stride. They were careful to hold the equipment they were carrying close their bodies so as not to knock anything off two tables in the hallway on the way back.

The four men finally arrived at the back of the house into a well-lit kitchen. Standing in the center of the floor was a young girl of about ten. She looked panicked and about to cry. But Roy's and Johnny's attention wasn't held very long by the skinny blonde harried child, as both of their eyes landed on a petite woman with her head caught between two bars. Her face said it all, she displayed a slightly embarrassed smile and yet looked relieved at the same time.

Betty Turner had managed to get her head stuck between a pair of bars of a banister that ran along three quarters of the back of her kitchen. The black wrought iron bars went from the checkered beige and avocado green linoleum floor to half way up to the ceiling. Betty was standing on the opposite side of the indoor fence, in the sunk-in living room. With her hands griping the bar running along the top of the barrier, she looked as though she was trapped in a modern day version of a guillotine, without the blade of course.

“See, Betty, the fire department's here.”

“Sir, have you tried Vaseline or butter?” Johnny asked while approaching the woman and placing a hand beside her head, checking to see how sturdy the rod beside her head was.

“Yeah.”

“Cap, these bars are rock solid.”

Hank frowned as Roy approached the women, standing on the opposite side of his partner and gave the bars a quick tug of his own.

The younger paramedic gave an unnoticed glare; unnoticed by everyone present except Roy . The second he saw the look, DeSoto regretted his action. He gave a crisp sheepish shrug of his shoulders, it didn't happen often, but every once in a while he made a move that his partner found slightly insulting.

“Johnny's right, Cap. These bars aren't going to budge.” He hoped backing his friends earlier statement would help smooth things over for once the two were alone in the squad. The last thing he wanted on this day of all days was a ranting Johnny. He'd take all the others injuries rolled into one over a John Gage tirade any day of the week.

“Are you going to get my mom free?” the young girl's soft voice asked.

“Sure we are.” Johnny smiled.

“We may need the Jaws, Cap,” Roy spoke.

“Sure thing.” Hank lifted the handi-talki to his mouth, “Engine 51. We need the Jaws and some help.”

“Engine 51,” Came Stoker's reply.

Hank retraced his steps to the front door and waited for the rest of his crew, knowing they'd need direction once they entered the house.

“Betty, how long have you been stuck?” asked the senior paramedic.

The woman looked over at her husband. “She's been that way about forty-five minutes now, I guess. Ain't that right, Betty,” Jason answered.

“Our daughter has done this a hundred times or more, I thought I'd see what the fascination is,” Betty said with a smile.

“Did you find it?” Johnny grinned, hoping to help ease the young mother's obvious embarrassment.

“No.” She chuckled, feeling herself relax somewhat. She had been positive that once the fire department showed up they'd surely laugh at her predicament. She knew how ridiculous she must look. Hearing the sound of heavy footsteps on her hallway floor, she craned her neck to see who was coming. Seeing three other men dressed in blue, she wished she could disappear.

“Ma'am, we're going to use a tool that's going to make a lot of noise. We'll do our best to make as little damage to your home as possible, but getting you out of here safely is our main goal,” Roy explained, keeping a smile.

Seeing the look of horror on the child's face, who stood leaning against a counter, Chet stepped up beside her. “Hey, this is kinda funny don't ya think?” he asked

Startled by the sudden appearance of the Irish man, Sherry Turner jumped slightly before facing him. “Yeah, I guess,” she laughed slightly. “Are they going to hurt my mom with that?” she asked nodding her head towards the big looking pliers in Mike's hand.

“Oh no. It's gonna get her out though, so you don't have to worry.”

Hank turned to look at his fireman behind him and decided to leave him where he was. “Chet, I think the guys have this under control.”

“Sure, Cap.” The stocky man replied. He understood the true meaning behind his captain's comment. Hank wished for him to stay put and help reassure the girl once the Jaws were in use.

“Mr. Turner, we're going to have to bend the bars, we're sorry about that, but that's the best we can do.” Hank apologized. He never liked the idea of damaging homeowner's property. After all, as firemen, they'd all taken the oath to protect peoples' lives and property. As always though, human safety outweighed the inanimate objects.

“Sure, sure, we understand, don't we, Betty?”

Feeling once again embarrassed because of the number of men now helping her escape from her self induced prison, Betty just shook her head. She was afraid she'd cry if she opened her mouth in response. She was also sure if that were to happen, she would be unable to stop, leaving the firemen in her kitchen standing in a pool of water.

“Kay, Mike. You're gonna have to place it below her head.” Roy instructed.

Mike just nodded his head in agreement.

“Betty, like we said, this is going to be loud. And once the Jaws Mike is using is placed against the bars, you're going to feel some vibrating, okay?”

Once again the imprisoned woman just shook her head in understanding.

“You let us know if you feel any pain, okay?” Johnny directed.

Just a nod in response again.

Mike pulled on the draw string, unintentionally hitting Marco in the hand.

He let out a small cry and held his hand against his stomach.

“You okay, pal?” Hank asked having witnessed the transaction.

As Marco was answering that he was all right, Mike turned to look at him. “Sorry.”

“'So kay.”

The engineer guided the tool where the paramedics advised him to and slowly but surely bent the two bars holding Betty Turner's head hostage. Soon the woman was able to pull free. Mike turned the machine off and placed it on the floor.

During the ordeal, Roy had left the kitchen and walked through the small doorway and down the steps, into the living room. Once Betty pulled her head free, he checked her neck to make sure there was no bruising and did a quick check of her vital signs.

“Seems okay,” he told Johnny as the rest of the crew started down the hallway and out the front door.

“Betty, can you move your head side to side for me?”

She did as instructed.

“And up and down.”

Once again, the woman complied.

“Great. We don't think you'll need to go to the hospital, but if you start to feel sick you should see your family doctor.”

“Okay. Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome,” Johnny smiled.

“I suggest you don't allow your daughter to continue sticking her head through those anymore.” Roy pointed towards the railing.

“I agree,” Jason commented as he put his arm around his wife.

* * * E! * * *

“I said I was sorry,” Roy sighed. The two paramedics had been in the vehicle for only seven minutes, but to DeSoto, it was feeling more like seventy. As he expected, Johnny had been upset by his innocent verification at the scene. In typical Gage fashion, Johnny had sulked for the first three minutes. Then he'd given Roy that famous, ‘I can't believe you' look, and then opened his mouth to say something only to quickly shut it again.

Gage started to drum his fingers on his leg. It was a sure sign that something was troubling the younger man. That's when Roy decided he'd rather just get this outburst over with and asked Johnny what was bothering him. Oh, he tried to deny it, but finally answered with, “You know!”

Roy tried to apologize, but Johnny wasn't having any of that.

“I know you said you were sorry. But that doesn't take away from the fact that you questioned me in front of the victim and Cap.”

“Johnny, I didn't question you.”

“Oh, what would you call it? Confirming? Isn't that the same thing?”

Roy sighed the fifth time in the last seven and a half minutes, “You know I'd never do that. Sometimes you just have to…to…”

“Confirm.”

“No. Johnny…” he was stuck for words. Deep inside he knew Gage wasn't going to hold this against him for long, but it didn't sit well knowing his partner was upset with him. Especially over something so insignificant as a tug on a bar. It was frustrating to say the least. Once again, he was thinking about his earlier assessment of rather having his crewmates' injuries than have this ridiculous conversation. Roy was positive he could have had a more rational discussion with his five-year-old daughter, Jennifer.

“Then what is it when your partner, someone who's supposed to trust your judgment, repeats your actions. . . agreement? I don't think so,” the younger man huffed.

“Look, it was just a natural response. I didn't mean it as a slight against you. Why are you taking it so personally? I didn't mean anything by it!” Roy 's voice rose.

“Oh…don't you get angry at me. You have no right to be. I didn't do anything wrong.”

“Angry…no right…Johnny, be reasonable. It was an innocent tug. I know you did it shortly before me, but I was already making my way over to pull on the bar. It was just instinct.” He lowered his voice a tad as he started to back to squad into the station.

Johnny's only response was blowing air between his lips before he jumped out of the truck as it came to a stop.

Roy sat alone for a few moments. Sometimes he had to wonder why he let his partner get under his skin like this. He thought back to the horoscope in the paper and was starting to agree, yes, this just might be a day to stay in bed after all.

* * * E! * * *

The paramedics hadn't been back at the station for more than ten minutes when the alarms again sounded.

“Station 51, unknown type rescue at Bryant Park, 520 Woodward Street , cross street Park. Time out 18:40”

Getting into the squad, Roy looked over at his partner and wondered how long he was going to sulk. Johnny was looking out the window, his eyes squinting at the sun. Roy thought about trying to apologize again for his innocent action in an effort to break the tension, but Johnny beat him to it.

“This day is just the worst,” Gage announced, turning toward Roy .

“It sure has been different,” Roy agreed.

“I figure you must be just waiting for the next shoe to drop, huh?”

The senior paramedic had to admit that with the other four men each having been subject to a variety of bumps and bruises and other things throughout the day, his nerves were a bit on edge. “Well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't starting to get to me a little.”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah, I figure that's why you checked those bars yourself, even after I checked them. If I was you, and was the only one left with the bad horoscope that hadn't been hurt, I'd be super careful too. I probably would have double and triple checked those bars, you know? Just to make sure one wasn't gonna pop off and hit me in the face or something.”

Roy was tempted to tell his friend that the horoscope had nothing to do with his instinctive reaction at the last rescue, but Johnny's grin told him that the moment had passed and the incident was best now forgotten.

* * * E! * * *

Bryant Park was a large public park with playing fields, swing sets, and several acres of thick trees that had been planted by the family that had owned the land in the previous century. It was this part of the park that the men were directed to as they pulled in through the gate. A roadway normally open only to bicycles, allowed them to pull up fairly close to the cluster of trees.

As the men got out of their trucks, a young woman appeared from the foliage.

“Back here. Quick. He's stuck,” she yelled, signaling for the men to follow her as she disappeared back into the trees.

The men had to rush in order to not lose sight of her, but came up short as they stumbled upon the scene. The woman had stopped in front of them. She was surrounded by ropes intertwined throughout the trees. She looked up. Following her line of vision, Roy saw a man with a rope secured around his waist, hanging about twenty feet above them.

While the paramedics surveyed the area to come up with a plan of action, Cap asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

“Ma'am, how exactly did this happen?”

“Idiot,” the woman mumbled, shaking her head.

Hank tried to ignore the comment but his face must have revealed his surprise.

“Oh, sorry, not you,” the woman explained, “Fred's the idiot. I told him we couldn't do this ourselves, but when Peter didn't show up, he just had to prove himself, you know? Like, ‘We don't need him' macho crap, you know?”

Cap didn't know and shook his head. “What, exactly, was he trying to do?”

“The rope course, you know?”

He still didn't know.

“We're supposed to set up the rope course for ‘teen day' next week, you know? The kids walk on the ropes and have to help each other and stuff. You know. A rope course.”

The captain still wasn't sure ‘he knew' but there didn't seem any merit in pressing it further, so he just nodded and turned his attention back to his men. The paramedics had apparently decided on a plan of action, and Roy was climbing one of the ropes to reach the branch above the suspended man.

Once Roy reached his destination, it only took them minutes to untangle the ropes and lower Fred to the ground. Secure in the knowledge that the others would help Roy , Johnny turned his attention to the man they had just freed.

“How ya feelin', Fred?”

“A little shook up, I guess,” the man admitted.

“Well, that's understandable,” Johnny reassured him. Fred's face and arms bore their share of scratches and rope burns. The paramedic held the man's wrist and checked his pulse. “Looks to me like you've been through the ringer today. Are you hurt anywhere besides your face and arms?”

Fred raised his hand to touch his face and grimaced. “You mean, besides my pride?”

Johnny grinned. “Well, I'm afraid there's not much I can do for your pride, but I wouldn't worry too much about that. Stuff like this happens to the best of us. You might think about getting some help next time though.”

Fred's vital signs were all slightly elevated, but that wasn't unusual given the situation. Noticing that he groaned again when he moved his arm, however, Johnny asked again.

“Fred, are you hurting anywhere?”

“Just my shoulder. I think I wrenched it when I tried to grab the rope when I fell.”

Johnny checked out his shoulder, then opened the bio-phone and connected the antenna.

“What's that thing?” Fred asked.

“Just a fancy radio,” Gage told him. “I'm checking in with a doctor at Rampart General Hospital .

“Oh, man. Give me a break, will ya? I don't need a hospital. I just got bumped around a little, you know? A little Bactine and a band-aide or two and I'll be fine.”

Johnny grinned, knowing how the man felt. But he knew he was obligated to follow through.

“You could have some muscle or ligament damage to your shoulder. You really should let us take you to the ER and let them check it out.”

“Yeah, Fred,” his female companion piped in, offering her opinion, “enough with the macho crap. Let the guy help you for cripes sake.”

Fred pushed Johnny's hand away and stood up. “Listen, nothing personal, okay? But what good is it going to do me to go to an emergency room? I sit around for three hours for some doctor to look at my shoulder, tell me I need to see an orthopedic guy or something, charge me $150 bucks for the advice, and I still have to come back the next day to see the specialist. Tell you what, let's just by-pass the middle man. If it still hurts tomorrow, I'll call the shoulder guy myself.”

Gage prepared to argue the point, but his attention was drawn away by a shout above him.

“Oh, shi…!!”

He looked up in time to see Roy , entangled in a mass of ropes, fall headfirst from the branch above. He slammed into two branches on his way down before being stopped by the ropes three feet from the ground. Johnny and the others rushed to his side. Relieved to note that his partner was still swearing as he hung upside down, Gage grabbed him under the shoulders. As he did, the rest of the ropes gave way, releasing Roy from their hold, and sending both men to the ground.

Untangling himself from the ropes, Johnny never took his eyes off his partner who was also struggling to get free.

“Stop moving and let me do that for you!” the younger man admonished. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“Yes, I'm okay, and this stupid day is what the hell happened. I had everything under control, and next thing I knew I was hanging upside down. I don't believe this. Is Fred okay?”

“Just a wrenched shoulder. What about you? You hit some of those branches pretty hard on the way down.”

“Tell me about it. Yeah, I'm okay. Just sore.”

“Maybe you, uh, should have double checked the ropes the way you double checked the bars, huh?” Johnny grinned and reached out his hand to help Roy up. DeSoto just growled and got to his feet. He was no sooner up then he was down again.

“Damn! Damn it!”

Johnny's grin disappeared. Moving some branches aside, he forcefully suggested that Roy lie down, then helped him achieve that goal by gently pushing back on his chest.

“What happened? What hurts?” he demanded.

“Just my ankle, and I don't need to lie down,” Roy replied, swatting Johnny's hand away.

“Do what he said and lie down.” The voice belonged to Cap. “Gage, check him out. DeSoto, don't move until your partner tells you you can. Understood?”

“I don't believe this day,” Cap mumbled. Picking up his handy talkie, he looked at his two men and shook his head in disbelief. “LA, this is Engine 51. We have another code I at this location. Respond an ambulance.”

“An ambulance? Cap, I don't think I need an ambulance,” Roy protested.

“Shut up.”

“Uh, Cap,” Johnny stepped in, “the ambulance may be premature.”

“Yeah, well, if Roy doesn't need it, probably someone else will by the time it gets here. If no one needs it, well, maybe I'll just take a nice quiet ride and figure out exactly how I'm going to explain today to the chief.” Captain Stanley walked away, still mumbling under his breath.

Johnny picked up the bio-phone and for the second time was stopped by his patient.

“What are you doing?” Roy was insistent. “You don't need to call this in. I twisted my ankle for pete's sake.”

This time Johnny wouldn't be diverted. “Look, if we're going in by ambulance, I have to call it in, and from the look on Cap's face, I'd say we're going in by ambulance. Besides, you didn't exactly just ‘twist' your ankle. You injured your ankle while falling through tree limbs from twenty feet up and coming to a jarring stop when you ran out of rope – Thank God, I might add.”

Roy lay back and threw his arm up over his face in surrender. “I don't believe this day. I should have just stayed in bed with Joanne this morning. She wanted me to, you know. ‘Call in sick, honey,' she said. ‘Let's just spend the day in bed, honey,' she said. But did I listen? No! Next time I will”.”

Johnny listened to Roy carry on as he connected with the hospital. “Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?”

“Go ahead, 51.”

Johnny moaned quietly and hoped that Roy had not heard the voice at the other end of the radio. Dr. Brady was a new to the ER. Only two weeks into his internship, he was terrified of making a mistake, so he often over compensated. Johnny shook his head and continued the transmission.

“Rampart, we have a thirty-three-year old code I with an injured ankle and numerous abrasions. Vitals are BP 138 over 90, pulse 100, respirations 20. Pupils are equal and reactive. There's no obvious fracture to the ankle, but he's unable to bear weight.”

“51, how exactly did he injure the ankle?”

This time Roy heard and recognized the voice. “Ooooh no. Cut the transmission now. Tell him it was a mistake.”

Johnny grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Placing his hand over the mouthpiece, he said, “I can't control who answers the call, Roy .” His grin broadened to encompass his whole face before he returned his attention to the bio-phone.

“Rampart, he was up in a tree on a rescue, about twenty feet high, when he got tangled in ropes and fell. He hit a few branches on the way down. The rope wrapped around his ankle and stopped his fall before he hit the ground. He has abrasions on his arms and will likely end up with some bruises, but the ankle is the only apparent significant injury. There is no evidence that he struck his head.”

“Was he wearing his helmet?” Brady wanted to know.

Roy rolled his eyes as Johnny answered.

“That's negative, Rampart. The victim did not have on his helmet, but I repeat, he did not strike his head at any time, and there is no evidence of head injury.”

“Understood, 51, but better safe than sorry. Put him on a board and collar and bring him in with full spinal precautions. Also, start an IV TKO with normal saline. Administer 5 liters of oxygen, continue to monitor vitals and transport as soon as possible.”

“NO! Absolutely not! No way!” Roy was struggling to get to his feet.

Johnny covered the mouthpiece. “Will you just sit down, and let me handle this?” He glared at Roy until he was again settled on the ground. Johnny uncovered the mouthpiece. “Rampart, there's no indication of any spinal injury. The victim has full use of all his extremities, and there's no evidence that he struck his back, neck, or head in the fall. I think we can safely bring him in without the precautions.”

Brady opened the line before consulting with Dixie . Johnny smiled when he heard her name. Now things would be okay.

“Do you have any advice, Miss McCall?” Brady asked.

Johnny sat back and waited for Dixie to tell him he was being ridiculous.

“It's 51?” he heard her ask.

“Yes. It's a code I. I believe that means that the victim is one of their men. I think that they mentioned that he was injured during a rescue.”

There was a pause and Johnny could picture Dixie trying to find the right words to tell this guy he was wrong and they were right.

“Dr. Bryant, it's your call, but I'd say that with that crew today there is just no such thing as overly cautious. Kel isn't going to believe this.”

With a smug tone in his voice, Bryant repeated his instructions for full spinal precautions.

Betrayed by Dixie , Johnny was left with no choice but to confirm the order. “10-4, Rampart.” He put the bio-phone away and took time to swallow hard before turning to face Roy .

“You heard?” he asked his partner.

Roy was sitting, disbelief coloring his face and his tone of voice. “There's no way. There is just no way I'm going in on a backboard for a twisted ankle. That is the most asinine thing I've ever heard. And Dixie 'll pay for this. Just tell them I refused. Someone has to do something about that guy. And just whose brilliant idea was it to call Rampart in the first place?”

“I believe it was mine, DeSoto,” Cap answered. “And by the way, no one is refusing anything if they want to stay off report. If the doc thinks you need a board, you go in on a board. Maybe, just maybe, he knows something you don't.”

Roy started to say something else, but stopped when he saw the look on Hank Stanley's face. “Fine, whatever.” He sunk back in defeat. “Maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll stick me in the hospital and I can spend the rest of this stupid day in bed.”

* * * E! * * *

Roy was no longer talking by the time they rolled him into the ER. He had thought he would at least be able to refuse the oxygen and the IV, but Captain Stanley was now in a foul mood, and if he was going to have to suffer through a conversation with the chief, they all could suffer, Roy included. DeSoto had tried to say no to the IV, but Cap had threatened to put him on report. Johnny had tried to support his partner, but he also got threatened with report. Chet laughed, and he got latrine duty for the next three shifts. Once again Roy thought to himself that getting stuck in a hospital bed overnight might not be the worst of outcomes.

Roy had closed his eyes as they rolled him through the halls, trying to avoid the motion sickness that threatened to join the building claustrophobia. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry when he opened his eyes and found himself looking into to face of Dr. Brackett.

“ Roy , how are you doing? What happened?”

Either he was putting on a good show or he didn't know. DeSoto couldn't figure out which. “I twisted my ankle.”

Brackett's twitch betrayed his concern before he smiled and put his hand on Roy 's shoulder. “Okay, well, we'll fix you up.” Looking at Johnny this time Brackett repeated the question. “What happened?”

Johnny shrugged and repeated the answer. “He twisted his ankle.”

Brackett's voice clearly displayed just how unfunny he found this situation. “So, you bring him in here with full spinal precautions, oxygen, and an IV because he twisted his ankle? I'm assuming that there is a big part of your answer that you left out, so let me ask one more time. What happened?”

Johnny glared at Dixie as she entered the treatment room, then turned back to Brackett to answer the question.

“Doc, he got tangled in some ropes and fell out of a tree during a rescue. He fell about twenty feet and hit a few branches on the way down, but the rope caught him and broke his fall, and maybe his ankle before he hit the ground. His vitals are normal. His pupils are normal. He did not hit his back, neck or head. He's got some bumps and scrapes and a messed up ankle. That's it. As for the precautions, well, if you have issue with that, take it up with Brady or Dixie here. Brady's the one who ordered it despite our protests.

Brackett looked from Johnny to Roy in disbelief. “You don't hurt anywhere but your ankle?”

“Well, the scrape on my arm burns, but otherwise, no. It's just my ankle.”

“So why didn't you refuse all this?” Brackett asked.

“Captain Stanley's in a bad mood.”

“I see.” Brackett smirked. “Well after the number of times you all have been here today, I guess I can understand a bad mood.” He looked at Dixie . “Did Brady really order all of this for a twisted ankle?”

Johnny answered. “Well, he did seek a second opinion after we questioned him.”

“From who?”

Johnny raised his eyebrows and tipped his head toward Dixie .

“Dix?” Brackett waited for an explanation.

Dixie held her ground and smiled. “Well, Kel, with the kind of day that these gentlemen have been having and all of the business that they've brought us, I just wasn't comfortable telling Dr. Brady that he was being too cautious.”

Brackett looked at her for a moment before shaking his head and turning his attention back to Roy .

“Okay, well, let's get a new set of vitals and call x-ray.”

“Um, Doc?” DeSoto asked from his position still staring at the ceiling. “Do you think you can let me out of all this?”

Brackett looked down and smiled. “Of course, Roy … eventually.”

* * * E! * * *

Finally released from Rampart and returning to the station, Roy backed the squad into the bay and parked. Trying not to limp, he walked into the dayroom and crossed to the coffeepot. It was empty. With a sigh, he dropped the pot back onto the burner.

“Your dinner's in the oven if you guys are hungry,” Chet commented.

Johnny and Marco had just come in and all three men shook their heads. “We grabbed a burger on the way back,” Gage explained.

“So, Roy , what was the verdict?” Hank Stanley asked as he came into the dayroom.

“Just a twisted ankle.” Roy turned and walked with a slight limp to sit in a chair by the table.

“Then why are you limping?” the captain persisted.

“It's still a little sore, walking on it will work it out.”

Before Cap could question him further, the klaxons sounded. “Station 51, woman down, unknown type rescue. . .

“Damn…I hope it's not another stupid person stuck somewhere,” Hank muttered as he headed for the radio to acknowledge the call. The others agreed.

* * * E! * * *

Once at the address the dispatcher had given them, the paramedics grabbed their equipment. They walked with long, hurried strides up to the door, Roy continuing to favor his sore ankle. Instructing the other men to stay with the engine, Captain Stanley followed them up the walk. Their knock was answered promptly by a man of about forty, a look of embarrassment on his face.

“You called the fire department?” Roy asked.

“Yeah.” Shaking his head, and giving a slight chuckle, the man turned and began walking down the hall. “Come this way. She's in here.”

Following the man, the paramedics were surprised at what they saw when they looked into the room indicated by their host. A woman sat facing them, a look of distress mingled with embarrassment on her face. Taking in the scene, both men soon realized they were in a relatively spacious bathroom with a tub and sink along one wall. The toilet, on which the woman was sitting, faced the door.

“Hi,” she said, giving them a small wave.

“Hi,” Roy replied. “Are you injured?”

“I don't think so.”

The man still standing outside the door giggled. Captain Stanley threw him a puzzled frown. The woman sitting on the toilet frowned at him also and said sternly, “Jerry, this is not funny.”

“I'm sorry. I just can't help it.” Jerry once again giggled, this time trying unsuccessfully to stifle it. “This could only happen to you, Mavis.”

“Oh, hush.”

The paramedics exchanged puzzled looks. “Uh, ma'am, could you tell us what's wrong?” Johnny asked.

“Well, you're not going to believe this. . .” Mavis began reluctantly.

“Today we'll believe almost anything,” Roy murmured when the woman paused.

“I was sitting here, doing. . .you know. . .” Mavis looked at the two men expectantly; both nodded that they comprehended. “And I was reading. It's a really good book and I wanted to find out how it ended. Soooo….I guess I sat here a little too long because. . .”

Jerry giggled again.

“You can't get up?” Roy asked, the situation finally dawning on him.

“No, I can't.”

Jerry's laughter, which had become louder as the exchange progressed, now burst into a full out belly laugh. Seeing the glare in the trapped woman's eyes, both paramedics struggled to keep straight faces. It seemed this was their day for getting people (and ducks) unstuck. And after the day they'd had, all either of them wanted to do was burst out laughing. But not only would it be unprofessional, it would also insult Mavis. Captain Stanley drew a hand down over his face, successfully suppressing an urge to snicker.

“Let's see what we can do to help,” Roy said moving further into the bathroom to stand near the woman and assess the situation. He spoke to John, who followed him. “Maybe if you hold the. . .seat. . .and I'll help her stand up.”

Roy had Mavis put her arms around his neck and tried to lift her up as Johnny squeezed in behind her to hold the seat.

“Owww. . .no. . . no,” Mavis yelped. “I'm stuck.”

Indeed she was stuck, firmly. Though not a terribly large woman, Mavis was by no means small either; thus her bottom was a tight fit on the toilet rim.

“I knew I should have stayed in bed today. The minute I saw my horoscope I should have just rolled onto my side and pulled the covers over my head!”

“I know the feeling,” Cap murmured under his breath.

“Mavis, that horoscope stuff is all nonsense. I told you so when you read it,” Jerry said from his position by the doorway.

“Oh yeah! It's all right for you to talk. Your horoscope was the only one that didn't say ‘danger ahead'!” Mavis returned. “Are you guys going to be able to get me off here or am I going to be stuck the rest of my life?”

“We'll get you unstuck. It's just a matter of finding the right. . .method,” Roy assured her. Both paramedics racked their brains and tried several different combinations of pushes and pulls, but nothing worked. Twenty minutes after they started, Mavis was still firmly trapped by the toilet seat.

“We need some sort of lubrication.” Johnny surveyed the situation with a puzzled frown.

“Yeah, but what? Wait I know.” Rummaging through the medication box, Roy pulled out a tube of KY-gel, the lubricant they used for putting down airway tubes. “This should do it.” Rummaging again he found several tongue depressors. Smearing the KY-gel on one of them, he passed the tube to his partner. Using the tongue depressor as best he could, he smeared the gel between the woman and the seat. John followed suit on the other side. Before long it seemed to be working; Mavis could move on the seat. However, she still was unable to stand. Roy looked toward the captain still standing in the doorway with Jerry.

“Uh, Cap, could you help her?”

“Sure, no problem.” Hank moved to stand in front of the trapped woman and instructed her to put her arms around his neck while he grasped her around the trunk. Finally she released when the captain pulled. But Mavis came up off the seat with a suddenness that surprised everyone. Losing his balance, Stanley stumbled backward and fell onto the floor, taking Mavis with him. He landed flat on his back with a thunk , Mavis sprawled on top of him. The paramedics, still squatting beside the toilet, stifled a giggle, while Jerry once again went into whoops in the hallway.

Standing and hurriedly pulling up her pants, Mavis apologized, “I'm so sorry. Are you all right?”

Propping himself up on his elbows Cap replied, “I'm fine. Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Mavis glared at Jerry who was still laughing.

Catching sight of his two paramedics and seeing how close they were to breaking into laughter, the captain glared at them. His expression seemed to be the final straw and both paramedics began to laugh outright. Then Mavis began to giggle and Hank couldn't help but join them. It was the comic relief the men had needed after the multiple code I's. Soon the group of five were laughing until tears ran down their faces.

“Cap, are you sure you're okay?” Roy asked sobering. Standing he offered a hand to the captain. “Did you hit your head?”

Taking the proffered hand and rising, Hank grew serious. “No, I didn't hit my head.”

“Are you sure? Do we need to call Rampart?”

He glared at Roy . “Don't you dare!”

Roy giggled again. Realizing the joke, Captain Stanley shook his head and laughed.

* * * E! * * *

After giving their victim a quick exam, the paramedics decided there was no need to contact Rampart for her either. Still snickering, Roy and John gathered their equipment and headed for the squad. The captain led the way out the door.

“If you have any problems. . .from this,” Johnny said, “. . .you should see your doctor.” He stifled his giggles and tried to sound professional. Since his sentence ended with a snort, he was unsuccessful. Mavis, trying to keep a straight face herself, lost the battle. As she shut the door, the paramedics could hear both her and Jerry laughing.

The paramedics' giggling puzzled the men waiting beside the trucks. Before they could ask any questions, however, Captain Stanley ordered them into the engine. They all climbed in and followed the squad back to the station. The men were further puzzled when Hank snorted with laughter several times during the short trip.

Both paramedics were still giggling when they reached the station. By the time they finished filling the other guys in on the ‘joke' they were all laughing as hard as Mavis and Jerry had been.

* * * E! * * *

Ready to relax for awhile, the men headed for the dayroom. Johnny and Roy had their minds on a snack, while Chet went straight for the TV. Mike and Marco pulled chairs from the table to line them up so that they and the others could enjoy whatever Chet found to watch.

Hank Stanley came in slightly behind the others. He ignored what their intentions were, but instead clapped his hands together, half asking, “Whataya' say we all hit the sack.”

Five heads quickly turned in his direction.

Johnny stopped as he was just about to pour himself and Roy each a glass of milk, his mouth open in protest. He glanced at his watch as the others did the same. “But, Cap! It's only 8:45 !”

“That's right and that's what scares me.”

The men looked on, baffled.

Hank sighed. “Look, there's too much time left for one or more of us to have something crazy or stupid happen to him here. So I'm ordering you all to bed.”

“But what could go wrong here?” Mike wondered.

The captain motioned toward Chet and Marco, whose bandages stood out like neon lights. “Plenty.”

“Yeah, but why do I have to turn in?” Johnny asked. “Nothin's happened to me all day.”

“Yet. . .” Marco added, an uncharacteristic threatening tone to his voice.

Johnny shot him a sour expression as the captain continued. “I just think we'd all be a lot better off if we threw in the towel and went to bed.”

Chet stared at the TV as a show he wanted to see played on the screen. “Can we just stay up until this is over?”

Hank shook his head, Chet doing the same in response. “If I gave into one of ya, I'd have to do it for all. Sorry, pal, but I'm responsible for your safety and I say the best thing for all of us is to call it a day. Unless we get toned out, of course.”

“One of us'll probably fall out of bed,” Mike mumbled as he headed for the doorway.

The others followed, each wishing the shift would just end so they could go to their own homes.

* * * E! * * *

Dressed in boxer shorts and t-shirts, Johnny and Roy brushed their teeth in the locker room while their co-workers got situated in the dorm. The other men were already cleaned up and, much to their disliking, getting into their beds.

“Don't you think Cap's going overboard with this?” Johnny asked.

Roy looked down at his own sprained ankle, then at his uninjured partner. “You know, I never put much stock in horoscopes before. . .but I can't help but wonder--”

“ Roy !” Johnny exclaimed, spitting out toothpaste and rinsing his brush under the faucet. He shook it out as he continued. “You don't really think that has anything to do with the way things've been goin'. You've got more sense than that.”

Roy rinsed his own toothbrush out and looked at Gage's disbelieving reflection in the mirror. “I thought I did. But I'm not so sure now.”

“Yeah, but everyone has a bad day now and then, . .when things just seem to go wrong.”

“Everyone at the same time?”

“ I'm not havin' a bad day.”

Roy held up a finger to indicate his partner should wait a minute. He walked over to his locker and picked up the newspaper clipping he'd dropped earlier that morning.

“Be careful today, there's trouble ahead. If you remember, that was ours. Now here's yours. Avoid other people today. It would be a good day to stay in bed.”

“Sooo. . . “

“Well, we all look like we've been through the ringer. You're untouched, but we've kept you pretty busy. You're just lucky we haven't dragged you down with us.”


Johnny snatched the clipping out of Roy 's hand. He read over the horoscopes again until a yell from the dorm interrupted.

Roy looked at Johnny. “See?”

Gage gave an uncertain look in return and followed his partner into the other room.

“What happened?” DeSoto wondered as he and Johnny looked at the others now standing in their boxers in the middle of the room. Chet's blanket and sheets were in a wad on the floor at the foot of his bed.

Marco explained as Captain Stanley made sure no one was hurt.

“Mike was walking past Chet's bed when his foot got caught in a piece of blanket on the floor. He tried to get it loose, but it got tangled worse. It was his bad leg, so he couldn't pull it free very easily. Chet tried to grab the blanket to pull it back and he went with it to the floor as Mike hopped away on his one free foot. Chet hit the floor like a rock. It even sounded like a rock.”

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, concern in his voice.

Chet nodded, as he looked at his own arms and legs for marks. “Just bruised. Inside and out.”

Johnny glanced back at the locker room, where he'd tossed the clipping. He then took a quick look at Roy before hurrying to bed.

“What's up with you?” Roy asked.

Gage was already sitting in bed and pulling the covers over himself. “I think you were right. And I think the best place for me right now is in bed.”

“But nothing's happened to you,” Mike commented.

“If I hang around you guys much longer, it will. . .trust me. . .it's in the stars.”

The men all stared at Johnny as he lay down and put his left forearm over his eyes. When there was no sound in the room, including that of anyone getting into bed, Gage lifted his arm and looked at the others. “What?”

“You've been safe all shift and now all of a sudden you're worried?”

“I'm quittin' for the day while I'm ahead.”

The others continued to look at the paramedic in bed as they made their way to their own beds. Suddenly Hank Stanley let out a gasp, followed by murmured swear words.

“Cap?” Roy inquired as he and Marco were quickly there. Chet and Mike had decided to wait and see how serious it was before making the effort to move their injured bodies again.

“It's. . .nothing. . .I just . . .stubbed my. . .toe,” came a reply through clenched teeth. “In bed. . .now. . .before any. . .thing else goes. . .wrong.”

Watching their feet carefully, the others got into bed and sighed with relief when no one else had any run ins with . . .well . . .with anything.

* * * E! * * *

Just one response had come after midnight and it was to a house fire. Luckily none of the residents were injured and the crew of Station 51 didn't have any further mishaps. The firemen were sure the new day would bring much better horoscopes for each of them. Only when they got a chance to read the morning paper after it was delivered to the station, would they know for sure.

* * * E! * * *

At 7:00 a.m. , the wake-up tones sounded in the station. Hank Stanley sat up and reached for the mic near his bed.

“Station 51, KMG365.”

He then ran a hand through his messy hair and yawned. “John, since you're the only one not injured, how ‘bout you make us some coffee.”

A groan sounded from across the divided room. “I'm not sure I wanna get outta bed.”

“It's a new day. It should be safe by now. Besides, we didn't have anymore code I's at the house fire last night.”

“Okay. I hope you're right.”

Johnny threw back his covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up. Glancing at Roy he commented, “You getting up?”

“Not till you've made it without incidence. Then I'll know things are better.”

“Nice.”

Gage stood and walked toward the doorway, noticing the rest of the crew still in their beds eyeing him. “Cap's right. Nothing happened to us last night.”

Chet shook his head. “That could've been a fluke.”

The paramedic sighed and left the room.

~*~*~

With the aroma of coffee in the air, the others joined Johnny in the dayroom. Most of the men looked like they'd been through a battle.

Chet's eyes were surrounded with black and blue bruising, a hint of yellow here and there; Mike and Roy each walked with a definite limp; Marco still sported bandages on his finger; and Captain Stanley could not make direct eye contact with his paramedics, memory of the wayward tick and its removal etched in his mind now that he'd had more time to think about it.

As they sat at the table, the klaxons sounded, sending the squad out on a run involving a man stuck in a dog house.

“Sounds like someone else's day is off to a bad start,” Roy commented as he and Gage headed out to the squad.

~*~*~

Fifty minutes later DeSoto was driving down the street, the station in view as they returned from the rescue. Johnny reminisced about the run as he watched their destination become closer.

“Man, I can't believe the dog was still inside his house when that guy got stuck.”

“Well, the wife said that the dog knew he was going to the vet before long and wasn't going to come out on his own.”

“Yeah, but that man was huge! What made him think he could fit in the doorway and not get stuck?”

“I don't know. After yesterday, I wasn't ready to tick off a ‘giant' by insinuating he did something stupid.”

Johnny nodded in understanding while Roy stopped the squad in the street and put it in reverse to back into the station driveway and apparatus bay.

“How's your hand?”

Gage held up his right hand wrapped in a gauze bandage. “It's okay.”

“You're lucky the dog didn't bite you.”

“Yeah, I'm lucky I just got that huge splinter in my hand when I pulled it back as soon as I heard the dog growl,” Johnny said, sarcasm in his voice. He turned in his seat to face Roy as the dark blond paramedic brought the truck to a stop in the station. “You know, this proves we were wrong. That horoscope stuff didn't have anything to do with yesterday's problems.”

“I don't know. There were a lot of mishaps.” Roy shrugged. “Maybe yours is bad today.”

“Uh uh.” The younger man examined the bandages on his hand. “This isn't to do with my horoscope. This is just yesterday getting caught up today since it couldn't get me yesterday when it was the day.”

Roy stared a moment, then opened his door to get out. He glanced back at his partner just in time to see Johnny open the other door and disappear downward outside the squad. In a matter of seconds Gage was on the hard floor, just his feet and lower legs visible from inside the truck.

A low groan could be heard from the unseen paramedic.

Roy sat staring a few seconds in disbelief, then ran around to the other side. Charlie Dwyer from C-Shift was just coming out to get the keys from the A-Shift pair and followed behind. Gage was lying on his side. He blinked hard a couple of times and looked at the others, who were already getting equipment out of the squad.

“What happened?” Charlie wondered.

“Johnny, you okay?” Roy asked.

“Wha. . .what'd I do. . .?”

“I don't know. I was wondering the same thing.” Roy set down the drug box as Dwyer set up the biophone to contact Rampart.

Johnny started to sit up, but DeSoto knelt beside him and gently pushed him back down.

“Let us check you out first.”

“I've gotten out of. . .the squad. . .hundreds of times. . . Roy . Hundreds ! And I've never. . .done this.”

“I know.”

“Then how come. . .” he gasped as Roy palpated his right ribs.

“Tender?”

“Yeah. . .kinda.”

“Did you hit your head at all?”

Johnny frowned. “No. But I hit. . .my shoulder. . .hard.”

The senior paramedic continued with the examination and relayed the information to Dwyer.

As the two were taking care of the injured man, Chet came around the front of the squad and saw the paramedics. “What happened?”

“He fell out of the squad.”

“He . . .fell. . .”

“Just tell Cap we have a code I.”

“Yeah. . .sure. . .” Kelly said, still unable to believe Johnny could fall out of the squad. He didn't even have time to notice the paramedic's bandaged hand.

Gage eyed his partner as Roy prepared to secure the injured arm in place. “I'm goin'. . . to Rampart. . . aren't I.”

“ ‘Fraid so.”

“Man, they'll. . . never. . . let me. . .live this down. Two trips. . .in less than. . .two hours.”

The senior paramedic gave a reassuring smile as he thought about the day before. “Don't worry. You're in good company.”

~*~*~

Inside his office, Hank Stanley sat in surprised shock at the news. Things had been looking to be back to normal. Sighing, he got up to follow Chet to the apparatus bay. On the way out, Hank glanced at Captain Hookrader.

“If I were you, I'd read today's astrology section . . .and send home anyone who has one that sounds like he's in for a rough day.”

Stanley then hurried out to call in the code I and request an ambulance.

~*~*~

A little over an hour after arriving at Rampart, Johnny was on his way back to the station to pick up his Land Rover and head for home. Roy had changed into his civilian clothes and provided the transportation.

When they got to the building, the rest of A-Shift was still hanging around, all of C-Shift was gone on a response.

“What're you guys doing here?” Johnny wondered as he and Roy walked across the apparatus bay.

“We were worried,” Marco said.

Mike shrugged. “We wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The captain looked at the sling on Gage's right arm. “I thought you hurt your ribs?”

“I did. They're just bruised though. A coupla days and I'll be okay. But my shoulder took the worst hit.” He looked at the crew again, still puzzled as to why no one had gone home.

“You want to do the honors?” Chet asked.

Roy nodded. “Sure.”

Johnny was looking even more puzzled.

Roy cleared his throat. “You may want to sit down for this.”

“Just do the honors, Roy . Just do the honors.”

“Okay.” Roy took a section of the newspaper from Chet and held it up as he read from the page that it was open to. “Virgo - Be careful today, there's trouble ahead.”

He looked as Johnny's mouth dropped open, his eyes widening.

“Wait, there's more.”

“More?”

“Ours all say ‘A Virgo could need your help today'.”

Johnny's mouth dropped even wider as he had expected theirs to say what his did the day before.

“Watch it, we'll be taking you in for a locked-jaw next,” Chet teased.

Gage shook his head as he closed his mouth and started for the locker room.

“That's it? No comments?” Hank w