A Benefit Of Pocket Broccoli

by Sarah Brooks

Mike held his breath and braced himself for the blow. Two small bodies flew across the lawn and hit him in his midsection. He tumbled to the ground, bringing the boys down with him. Four-year-old Joshua giggled wildly as Brian stuffed a handful of grass down his father's shirt.

"Mike! Boys!" Mike stopped in the middle of dangling Brian in the air by his feet and looked toward the house.

Hannah was leaning out the back door, laughing at them. "Come on in, guys. Dinner's on the table." Josh released his hold on Mike's leg and ran into the house.

"Daddy, put me down!" Brian squealed. He stretched his arms towards the grass and crawled away as Mike put him down headfirst. Mike brushed off his shirt and shook out the grass Brian had slipped inside it. Brian bounced around him as he started towards the house."Race me, Daddy!"

Mike ruffled the six-year-old's hair, brushing out the bits of grass. "Not now, kiddo. I'm too tired. Remember who woke me up at 5:30 this morning?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Now go on inside and wash your hands." Brian ran ahead of him past his mother, who was standing in the doorway.

Hannah reached up and brushed grass off the top of Mike's head. "Mike, you three look adorable with grass all over yourselves, but could you brush off before you come in? I just mopped today."

"Sure." Mike brushed off his clothes and entered the house, glancing down at the grass his sons had scattered on the kitchen floor. "Want me to sweep up after the kids after dinner?"

"That would be great." Hannah handed him Brian and Josh's plates and carried hers and Mike's to the table. The two boys came running into the kitchen and plopped into their seats.

"Yuck, Mom! Broccoli?" As always, Brian had an opinion. Mike raised his eyes slightly and glanced across the table at his oldest child. Brian didn't notice the look. He was too busy staring down at the lumpy vegetable on his plate.

"Yes, Brian. Broccoli," Hannah answered calmly.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"'Cuz I don't like it."

"Sorry, kiddo." Hannah shook her head. "You boys promised me that if I got you cookies at the grocery store you'd eat all your vegetables tonight, isn't that right?"

The brothers exchanged a look. "Well, yeah," Brian grumbled. "But you didn't say it was broccoli." When his mother didn't answer, he shifted in his seat and looked up at her, wrinkling his nose. "Do we have to eat it?"

"Yup."

Josh furrowed his forehead and looked from one parent to the other. "Daddy isn't," he said quietly, then started chewing his food thoughtfully.

Mike looked down at his plate. His broccoli was discreetly pushed off to one side. 'Well, Stoker, he's got your eye for observation, wonder if they'll believe it if you tell them after living 32 years you've stored up all the broccoli you'll ever need?'

"Daddy didn't have any cookies today," Hannah replied. She gently nudged Mike with her elbow. "Do you think you could eat it? Just this once?" she whispered in his ear. Mike gave her a sideways glance. She smiled at the look on his face. "Honey, you don't know how hard it is to get them to promise to eat vegetables."

"You can have mine," Mike whispered back. "You're the one that likes it."

"Please?" Hannah tried again. "I won't ask you to do it any more. Besides," she grinned. "you don't eat enough vegetables either."

Mike rolled his eyes good-humoredly. "Yes, Mother. I'll take care of it." Hannah gently kicked him under the table and looked back across the table at the two boys. They were diligently trying to eat the broccoli, and bore the martyred looks to prove it.

Hannah felt the dog brush by her leg under the table. She looked down and watched him carry something green over to his rug by the door. He plopped down on the floor, dropped the prize from his mouth, investigating it first, then taking an experimental bite. Her mouth dropped open, and she turned to stare at her husband. His broccoli was gone, and his face was the picture of innocence.

"Michael!" Hannah gasped, starting to laugh uncontrollably, "Did you,?"

Mike shrugged and smiled. "I plead the fifth."

******

Marco was putting his turnout coat and helmet in their places on the engine when he heard a car pull up in front of the station. Mike Stoker climbed out and slammed the door, waving goodbye to whoever had dropped him off. "Hey, Stoker!" Marco tossed his helmet onto his seat and walked to meet the tall engineer. "Having car trouble?"

Mike nodded. "Somebody ran into Hannah's car in the parking lot at the grocery store," he replied. "She's using mine."

"Will you need a lift home tomorrow?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"No problem. Glad to help."

"Mornin', guys!" Johnny waved cheerfully as he and Chet filed into the kitchen.

"I'm going to get some coffee before those two suck it all up," Marco said. "You coming?"

Mike shook his head. He pointed to the sides and front of the engine, which were lightly spattered with mud thrown up from the wheels. "I'm gonna take care of this before I change."

"Okay, but you're gonna be late." Marco headed toward the kitchen. "You're obsessed, Stoker!" he called over his shoulder.

Mike smiled and shook his head as he filled a bucket with water and retrieved a handful of rags from the closet. He knelt down by one of the front wheels and had started to wash the mud off the engine when he heard a frightened yelp. Curious, he stood and walked down the driveway. An elderly lady swung her purse off her shoulder and tossed it away, backing up the driveway to get away from it. She stopped when she saw Mike coming, and immediately flushed deep red.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked, noticing that the woman was visibly upset.

She pointed a trembling hand toward her purse. "I was looking for my glasses," she panted. "I put my hand in, and found an enormous spider on top of my calendar!" She tried to calm down, blushing even more than she had. "I'm being foolish, I know," she admitted, embarrassed, "but I can't stand spiders,and I touched it when I put my hand in. I just lost control of myself."

"That's okay." Mike smiled. "Want me to get it out for you?"

"Would you, please?" she asked in relief.

"Sure." Mike picked up one of the rags he'd used on the engine and carefully eased the zipper farther open. A large brown spider crouched on top of a small gray book. Mike clamped the rag over the bug and removed it from the bag, dropping it on the ground and stepping on it.

"Thank you so much," the woman said, putting her hand to her head. Her voice sounded less shaky than it had been. "I feel stupid, but I can't help it. I'm terrified of anything with more than four legs."

"I understand," Mike replied. "My wife isn't too crazy about spiders either. She calls me to kill them."

"Smart lady." The woman picked up her purse, smiling in relief. "Thank you so much, young man."

"No problem." Mike waved to her as she continued down the sidewalk.

"Hey, Stoker. What's going on?"

Mike turned. "Nothin' much. There was a spider in her purse."

Hank Stanley chuckled. "Hail the conquering hero, eh?" He clapped a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Get changed, pal. Gage has even beat you inside."

Mike headed into the locker room to change. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, surprised to feel something slick and bumpy next to his wallet. He pulled out a little plastic bag holding a few small pieces of broccoli. Hannah. It had to be. Josh or Brian wouldn't have thought to put it in a bag. Besides, she had handed him his pants that morning. Mike shook his head and smiled.

"Stoker!" Cap's voice filtered in from the apparatus bay. Mike suddenly realized that he was late. He changed quickly, absently stuffing the broccoli into his pocket before ducking out the door, taking his place next to Marco at the end of the line.

"Thanks for joining us," Hank muttered, casually surveying his clipboard."Okay,Whose turn is it to cook?"

"I cooked last shift," Chet supplied.

"That means it's my turn," Roy said.

"Okay, Roy, you've got KP. And remember to feed Henry,C-shift had an early run this morning, and they forgot to feed him. Marco, I want you to mop the dorm. Be sure you sweep in there first. It hasn't been getting done. Uh,Stoker, you've got latrine. Kelly, strip the beds and start the laundry. Stoker, before you start latrine, why don't you pull the engine into the driveway? Gage, pull the squad out there too and clean the truck bay. I'll get the garbage out and start winding hose. Also, if we have time, it wouldn't hurt to wash the trucks." He tossed his clipboard onto his desk. "Okay, that's it. Get to work."

Mike carried the bucket of dirty water through the truck bay to the back of the parking lot and dumped it down the drain before wringing the mop out and placing it back in the closet. Hank had already finished re-stacking the hose on the back of the engine and was just carrying in a pile of folded bed linen so Chet could make the beds. The truck bay floor was slick from being mopped and John was nowhere in sight, so Mike guessed that he was in the kitchen with Roy. He decided he'd head into the kitchen since he had nothing better to do.

"...but then she accidentally hit her water glass and it spilled all over both of us."

"So, not exactly the best date in the world, huh?" Roy questioned.

"Actually," John propped his feet up on the table. "it wasn't all that bad. I kind of like her, and she said she'd go out with me again. We're going hiking on Thursday if the weather's okay."

"Great." Roy suddenly gave John an exasperated look and whacked his shoes with the dishrag. "I just cleaned the table, Johnny," he said.

"Sorry." Johnny slid his feet back to the floor. Roy rolled his eyes and re-wiped the section of the table his partner had used as a footrest.

Mike felt something brush against his legs. He looked down to see Henry plop down on his feet. The dog turned sorrowful eyes up at him and whined."Hey, Roy, did you feed Henry?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, first thing when I came in here."

Henry suddenly stood up and jumped, placing his front paws on Mike's knees, resting his chin on his lap. "Has he been out?"

"Not unless he went out with the cap. I haven't let him out," Roy answered. Mike pushed the dog off his lap and opened the back door. Henry started out, then abruptly turned around and came back in again. He sat down under the table and woofed loudly. The three firefighters stared at the dog, confused.

"What's the matter, Henry?" Johnny asked. Henry just flopped down on his belly with a long sigh and didn't respond.

"Hey, fellas?" Hank poked his head in the door. "Chet and Marco are just about done in the dorm. Let's get started on the trucks."

Mike, Roy, Johnny, and the captain started hosing down the trucks, and were joined a few minutes later by Chet and Marco. Before the squad was completely finished, they were called out on a run. The engine crew finished washing and rinsing off the rig before heading back into the kitchen. Chet flipped the TV on to "The Thing That Ate The World" while Marco got out a deck of cards and started playing solitaire. Hank headed over to the stove where Roy's lunch supplies were laid out, half-finished.

"Do you know what he was making, Stoker?" Hank asked. Mike shook his head. "I don't see a recipe lying around," Hank continued, half to himself. He finally gave up and put everything in the refrigerator. "Did it look like it needed broccoli?" Mike asked.

"Why?"

Mike pulled the plastic bag out of his pocket. "Hannah put this in my pocket this morning."

Hank blinked in surprise. "Why?" he asked again.

Mike shrugged. "Gave mine to the dog last night. Hannah's the only one in the family who actually likes it, and it's a real struggle to get the boys to eat it. She requested that I do something with it."

"You did what?" Hank laughed. "I haven't slipped anything to the dog since I was twelve years old."

"It's a dying art," Mike replied, with a look on his face that caused the captain to break out laughing again.

A heartrending moan drifted over from the couch. Henry's normally droopy face was droopier than ever, and he fidgeted restlessly. "Somethin' wrong, buddy?" Chet asked, glancing down at the heavy head in his lap.

"He was upset about something this morning," Mike said.

"Oh, yeah?" Chet lifted Henry's face up so he could see his eyes. "What's wrong, Henry? Are you sick?" Henry pulled away from Chet and jumped off the couch. He turned in circles in the middle of the room, barking loudly.

"Something's sure bothering him," Marco said.

There was a low hum of a car motor as the squad backed in to the truck bay. Johnny slammed the door and walked into the kitchen. Roy came in a few seconds later, carrying a paper bag. "Hey, guys, what was it?" Marco asked.

Johnny shrugged. "Ah, a couple old ladies started hyperventilating. They were worried about their cat. They said it was acting funny."

"That's pretty odd," Hank said. "Henry's been acting strange all morning."

"Hey, where's all the food?" Roy asked.

"Cap and I put it in the fridge," Mike told him. He followed Roy over to the sink. "Does it need any broccoli?" Behind him, Hank smothered a laugh.

"Uh,no." Roy shot a puzzled glance at Mike and the captain.

"What is it, anyway?" Mike asked.

"Some casserole that Joanne found in a magazine. She's made it once, and it isn't bad. You just put all this into a dish and toss it in the oven for a couple hours."

"A couple hours?" Chet protested. "Roy, it's already quarter to twelve!"

"Yeah, I know. Johnny and I stopped by the deli on the way in. On the way back from our third run." He sighed, remembering the constant racing back and forth across the division. "We picked up some stuff to make sandwiches. The casserole is for dinner." He started digging the food out of the paper bag.

It was quiet for a few moments as the firefighters made their lunch before Johnny spoke. "Y'know, there's gotta be some reason why all the animals are nuts," he said to himself.

As if on cue, Henry started whining and pacing the floor. "Great, Gage. Do you always have to do your thinking out loud?" Chet asked, nudging the dog away from him with his foot.

"What is the matter with him?" Hank burst out, exasperated. He picked up his plate and glass. "I'm going to eat in my office. I get enough dog troubles at home. I have to update the log anyway. C-shift was really busy."

For a few minutes the rest of the shift chewed their food in a silence that was punctuated by Henry's whines and the clicking of his nails on the floor. A sudden deafening bark made them all jump.

"What is it, you stupid dog?" Johnny snapped, wiping at the water he had spilled. Henry backed up a step and kept barking. Everyone in the room froze. A low rumble seemed to be growing in the distance. The dishes in the cabinets started clinking together. The four men looked at each other in alarm.

"Hit the deck!" Johnny yelled, sliding off his chair and ducking under the table. He nearly bumped heads with Marco as they moved towards the center of the table. Mike grabbed Henry's collar and dragged the dog under the table with him as the room began to shake. There was a loud crash as dishes slipped off the shelves; one by one, then in stacks. A series of splintering crashes echoed though the station, making the men wince.

Mike grabbed onto a table leg to keep from sliding on the floor. He wished he had a third hand so he could clamp Henry's mouth shut--the Basset hound hadn't stopped barking since the first tremors started. The eight chairs around the table toppled with a bang or screeched as they scraped across the floor. The television tumbled off the bookcase with a shower of sparks and glass. The shaking stopped abruptly, as did Henry's barking. The dog wriggled in Mike's grasp, whining softly.

"Hey, Cap, are you all right?" Marco called. The four men waited, listening for a reply. There was none.

Mike's hand was starting to cramp from wrapping around Henry's collar so tightly. He started to feel afraid deep inside as he remembered his wife and children. Hannah,where would she be? Who knew? She could be anywhere in LA. Brian and Josh would be in school,What time was it? Noon. They would be outside on the playground--with Roy's children, Mike remembered with a jolt. He looked in Roy's direction. Roy was looking at him, probably thinking the same thing.

Mike wrapped his arm around the table leg as the ground started to shake again. He glanced out into the truck bay and saw the engine and squad rocking on their wheels. Helmets slipped off the engine, clattering to the floor. Outside, there was a roaring shriek as a building collapsed.

After what seemed an eternity, the aftershock passed. The four men under the table waited for five unbearable minutes before slowly crawling out from under the table. Mike scooped Henry up so the dog wouldn't step on the glass that crunched under their feet. He shut the door of the kitchen and put Henry down, snapping his leash onto the ring on the collar. The next minute he nearly jumped a foot in the air as the voice of the dispatcher echoed loudly around the truck bay. "Station 51, this is Dispatch. What is your status?"

Roy picked up the mike. "LA, Station 51. Our station has sustained damage due to the earthquake. We do not know the extent of the damage yet, and have a possible Code I. Stand by."

"10-4, 51."

"Come on," Chet said. "We'd better look for the cap." He led the way to Hank's office and pushed open the door in time to see the Captain crawling out from under his desk.

"You okay, Cap?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Hank brushed splinters out of his hair. "My filing cabinet had it in for me though." He spoke lightly, but his smile was nervous, and it was easy to see why. Mike felt a chill as he saw the tall metal filing cabinet toppled over onto the desk. Hank's chair was broken, and the desktop was nearly caved in, leaving only a small cavity of space beneath it.

Just then, the earth rumbled ominously, and everyone reached for a handhold. The aftershock was only a minor one, and passed quickly without disturbing much. Henry whimpered and pressed against Mike's legs. A brief moment of silence passed while the men waited to be sure the ground had stopped moving.

"Okay, boys," Hank began, "Dispatch is gonna go crazy in a few minutes after it gets itself back together. Stoker, you and I will check the engine. Roy, you and Gage check the squad and make sure you've got enough of everything and that everything works,It's a good bet that you'll need it all. If you need something, go to the hospital and pick it up but stay available. Marco and Chet, I want you two to make sure all our equipment is on the engine, and make sure nothing has damaged the hoses."

Mike headed out into the truck bay and knelt down by the tires of the engine to make sure they were okay. Then while the captain was making sure the controls were intact, Mike started the ignition. He wasn't surprised when the motor started without a hitch. The rig hadn't let him down yet. After learning from Roy that the squad was okay, Hank picked up the mike by the kitchen door."LA, this is station 51."

"Station 51, this is Dispatch."

"LA, our station has sustained considerable damage due to the quake, but none of us are injured. We're checking the engine and squad, and should be available shortly."

"10-4, 51. Respond to freeway accident; three miles north of your station."

"Station 51, KMG 365," Stanley responded.

***

Mike blinked and shook his head, trying to prevent sweat from dripping in his eyes as he hauled the Jaws of Life towards the next crushed car. The earthquake had rattled the freeway, sending cars careening into each other. The firefighters at the scene were grateful the quake hadn't occurred at rush hour. During the past two hours, the ground had rumbled ominously, a chilling reminder that the fault was nowhere near stable.

As Mike started prying the car door open, he wished for the hundredth time that he could ditch his turnout coat. The already high temperature was intensified by the heavy coat and helmet he wore. Dick Friend, a paramedic from Station 36, had passed out from the heat earlier that afternoon. Mike had a feeling Dick wouldn't be the only one.

"Okay, Stoker, that'll do it." Johnny helped a dazed man in a business suit out of the car and helped him sit down.

Mike barely heard Johnny asking the man if he hurt anywhere. He had remained focused on his job ever since the engine had arrived, but worry rested heavy in his stomach, making him feel jittery. Phone lines had gone down almost immediately, and there was no way he could call home.

A soft thumping barely caught his attention at first, until he realized it was coming from a nearby car. He looked around and saw an old green sedan with a man slumped over the steering wheel and a huge, shaggy, black and white sheepdog in the front seat. Mike approached the car and tried the door handle.The door wasn't locked, and it opened easily; most of the damage was to the front end. Mike reached in and touched the man's throat, feeling for a pulse.

A gust of hot breath and the flash of white teeth made him jump back, whacking his helmet on the car as he backpedaled. Mike slammed the door shut, heart pounding wildly as he surveyed the snarling dog. This was going to be a little harder than he had thought. He looked critically at the driver of the car through the window. He had a large bruise on his forehead, and the steering wheel was firmly pinning the driver to his seat. It was a good bet he had a flail chest. If he were alive, he would have to get out soon.

He signaled to John that he needed his help. Johnny helped his patient into a waiting ambulance and came back over. "Someone's trapped," Mike said. "And the dog'll bite you."

"Is he alive?" Johnny asked.

"Don't know."

"Hmm." Johnny frowned. "Well,most dogs like me."

"Boot didn't," Mike pointed out quietly.

Johnny paused long enough to give the engineer a dirty look before continuing."Maybe I can just slip a hand in to check him." John carefully opened the door. He slowly reached towards the man's face.

Mike leaned against the car to watch but looked down as he felt something big in his pocket. He pulled out the bag of broccoli. 'This is still in my pocket?' He had forgotten all about it since the quake.

There was a sharp growl as the dog suddenly snapped at Johnny. He jerked back as the dog's teeth started to close around his arm, feeling the harsh scrape as the incisors raked over the back of his hand. "Stoker!" Johnny said, startled by the big animal's sudden lunge. He tried to pull away, but the dog's teeth were caught on the sleeve of his turnout coat. Without thinking about it, Mike reached for Johnny's arm just as the dog managed to pull its teeth out of the coat. Seeing the new intruder, the dog snapped at Mike.

Suddenly the dog backed off, coughing and gagging. It retched slightly as the plastic bag caught in its throat. Mike took advantage of the distraction and checked the man's pulse. Nothing. Mike ducked out of the car, dragging John with him, and slammed the door as the sheepdog cleared its mouth of the obstruction and lunged at him. Finding it couldn't pursue the firefighter any more, the dog proceeded to tear the bag and the broccoli to shreds.

Johnny stared through the car window as the sheepdog viciously chomped on the bag of broccoli Mike had accidentally shoved into its mouth. "Stoker, what do you call that?" Johnny snickered. Mike shrugged. Johnny started laughing harder. "And why did you have broccoli in your pocket?"

"I think my wife put it there."

"Why would your--? She put broccoli in your--!" Johnny stopped trying to figure it out and surrendered to the laughter that refused to stop.

"Shouldn't we check your hand?" Mike asked, holding back a smile.

Johnny patiently held out his hand for Mike to inspect. "It's okay," he said, still chuckling.

"Yeah. The skin isn't broken," Mike agreed.

Johnny suddenly stopped laughing as the ground heaved. Mike stumbled back against the car, trying to stay on his feet as the tremor passed. Johnny got up from his hands and knees. "That was about thirty seconds," he said in quiet alarm. Mike nodded slightly. The aftershocks were getting longer. All traces of mirth were gone from the paramedic's face as the seriousness of the situation came back to him again.

Mike recoiled from the car as he felt it shake slightly, thinking it was losing stability. He looked under the car. All four wheels rested on the ground. He felt it shake again. This time he heard the thumping much more loudly than before. It was coming from the trunk. Mike hurried around to the back and pulled his forcible entry tool off the front of his jacket. He jammed the crowbar end into the small crack of the trunk lid and bore down with his full weight. The trunk sprang open, revealing a terrified girl crouching next to the spare tire. She let out a weak cry, startled by the sight of the man outside.

"Hey, it's okay," Mike reassured her. "Take it easy. You're going to be all right." The girl started to cry and reached for him with trembling hands. Mike helped her out of the trunk. She clung to him and buried her face against his side. "John!" Mike called to the paramedic who had started to make his way to another car.

Johnny turned around and ran back when he saw that Mike had another victim. "What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know. She was in the trunk," Mike answered.

The girl looked back at the car, wiping tears from her face. "He--he was going to kill me!" she gasped hysterically. "I was walking home for lunch when he grabbed me and shoved me into the trunk!"

"Sweetheart, are you hurt anywhere?" Johnny asked gently, bending down to look into her eyes.

"No," the girl answered shakily.

"See if you can find a policeman," Mike said quietly to John.

"Right." Johnny headed off through the maze of cars.

Mike looked down at the girl. Her arms were still holding him tightly around the waist. He decided to let her hold onto him until Johnny came back with two policemen in tow. The younger officer, whose name tag read "Benson," gently touched her shoulder. "What's your name, honey?" he asked.

"Carrie...North," she added after a pause.

"My name is Andy," the officer replied. "Where are you from, Carrie?"

"Sacramento."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve." Benson exchanged a quick glance with his partner.

"Carrie, this is my partner, Bob Maxwell. He's going to take care of you while I talk to the firemen, okay?" Carrie nodded marginally. "I think he might be able to put a call through to your parents," Benson continued.

"I--I don't really--" Carrie began haltingly.

Benson bent down further to look into her face, which had suddenly gone very pale. "Carrie?" Carrie let go of Mike as she fainted. Mike and John caught her as she fell and lowered her to the ground.

"What happened?" Maxwell questioned, concern spreading over his face.

Johnny shrugged as he checked her over. "Could be a number of things. Anxiety, maybe. It also depends on how long she was in that trunk."

"Two days, most likely," Maxwell supplied. "I think I remember this. We got an APB two days ago about a missing juvenile. Carolyn North. They think her uncle kidnapped her."

"Was there any identification on the driver?" Benson asked, gesturing toward the dead man inside the car.

Mike shrugged. "We couldn't check." He pointed towards the shaggy dog in the car, which was staring intently at the three men.

"He'll take your hand off," Johnny added. "I'll contact Roy. He's got the bio-phone." He picked up his HT. "Fireman DeSoto, this is Fireman Gage."

"This is Roy. I read you, Johnny."

"Roy, I have a victim here. Can you set up a relay with the hospital?"

"That's affirmative. I'm ready for vitals."

Johnny glanced down at his notebook. "Patient is female, 12 years of age. She has been inside the trunk of a car for about twodays, and she may be dehydrated. Pulse is 100 and thready, respiration is 24, and BP is 100 over 80. She also has a temperature of 99.8."

"Stand by," Roy instructed. There was a brief pause as he contacted Rampart. "Johnny, start an IV with normal saline and transport."

"10-4." Johnny got the fluid out of the drug box and taped the needle into Carrie's arm. "Do you fellas think you can help me carry her to that ambulance?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll go in with her," Maxwell answered. He turned to Benson. "Hey, Andy, call animal control when you're finished, okay?"

"Sure thing." Benson watched Johnny and Maxwell carry the girl to a waiting ambulance. He looked back at Mike again. "Don't let anyone touch the car. I'll get a tow truck here pronto so we can impound the car." The officer scribbled something down quickly in a small notebook. "I should tell you," he turned back to Mike. "You probably saved her life, finding her in the trunk like you did. Nobody would have been able to check the car for at least another day and a half, what with all the wrecks on the freeway."

Mike shrugged and smiled slightly. "Glad to help."

***

It was the evening of the next day before the firefighters were released to return home. A and B shifts of Station 51 had overlapped, and the twelve exhausted firefighters ate a silent meal at the station and cleaned up the damaged areas before A-shift shoved off.

Even though Marco was dirty, sore, and dead-tired, he remembered that Mike needed a ride home. The two of them left the station and drove through the deserted streets. Night had fallen, and Marco had to drive slowly because the streetlights were out. Neither spoke until Marco stopped in front of Mike's house. A faint light glowed in the front window. Mike let a relieved smile make its way across his face. The house was still standing, and it was a good bet that Hannah was waiting for him inside.

"Thanks, Marco. I owe you one," he said as he climbed out of the car.

"Don't mention it," Marco answered. "I'll see you in a couple days."

"Hey, if you need a place to stay tonight, feel free to come back here," Mike offered.

"Thanks, Stoker. I'll keep it in mind." Marco waved tiredly, then pulled away. Mike watched until his car disappeared down the street, taillights casting dim red shadows on the pavement.

Mike made his way up the sidewalk and quietly let himself in. A dim orange light filtered in from the living room. He walked in to find Hannah asleep on the couch. A flashlight stood on its end on the table, shining on the ceiling. Mike walked over and gently shook Hannah's shoulder.

"Hi, Sweetie," Hannah whispered sleepily. She sat up and hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Me, too." Mike kissed her forehead. "Is everything all right here?"

"Everybody's okay," Hannah answered. "Josh got a little bruised when he fell off the monkey bars, but he's all right." She leaned back a little so she could see his face. "You look beat."

Mike smiled ruefully. "I am." He took Hannah's hand and helped her off the couch. She headed off to bed while Mike took a detour into his sons' room. The boys were sound asleep, breathing heavily in the silence. He made sure the sheets weren't sliding off the small beds before walking quietly into his room.

Mike changed out of his clothes, stiff muscles protesting as he pulled on his t-shirt. He climbed into bed and Hannah snuggled up to him. He was just starting to drift off when he remembered something. "Hannah?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you,put broccoli in my pants?" Mike felt Hannah start to shake next to him as she tried to keep from laughing. She finally couldn't hold it in any longer and lapsed into giggles."I thought it was you."

Hannah started giggling harder. "I'm sorry, Sweetie," she gasped, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "It didn't cause any problems, did it?"

"No." Mike smiled. "Actually," he yawned. "it kept me from getting my hand bitten off."

Hannah recovered from her fit of laughter. "What?" Merriment was still in her voice, but she sounded confused.

Mike blinked sleepily. "There was a dog in a car and he accidentally bit the broccoli."

"I'm still in the dark."

Mike tried to remember what he had just told his wife, but his brain was shutting down. "Can I tell you tomorrow? I'm driftin' off, here,"

"Sure." Hannah kissed his cheek and rested her head against his shoulder.

****

Mike walked into the truck bay and finished buttoning his shirt as he headed into the kitchen. Apparently he was the last one dressed, he realized as he saw the rest of the men inside. Usually Chet or Johnny lagged behind.

"Hey, Stoker, good to see you!" Johnny gave Mike his customary whack on the shoulder before jogging past him. "I've got something for you!" he called over his shoulder. Mike stared after the younger man in confusion before looking to the others for an explanation. Hank, Marco, and Chet responded by staring at Roy.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Roy protested, raising his hands in defense. "I don't know what he's up to." A few moments later, Johnny returned holding a large, bright green object. It took Mike a few seconds to realize that it was a rubber dog toy. It took a little longer for him to realize that it was a big rubber piece of broccoli, complete with eyes and a mouth.

Johnny cleared his throat. "Stoker, in honor of your bravery and resourcefulness last week, you are being awarded this memorial vegetable, and are given the title of 'Sir Broccoli'." Johnny lightly tapped Mike on both shoulders with the toy. There were muffled snickers from the couch and table as the toy squeaked softly with each tap. Johnny bowed with a flourish and handed an expressionless Mike the vegetable. "Your sword, Sir Broccoli."

Mike stared down at the toy in surprise for a minute or two before reaching out and bopping Johnny on top of the head with it. A loud squeak echoed off the cabinets.

"Good idea, Stoker," Hank said, laughing.

Mike smiled and tossed the broccoli to Henry.

"A Benefit Of Pocket Broccoli" ©1999 Sarah Brooks. "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

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