Case Of Mistaken Identity

by Karen Hobbs

Stationhouse 51 was quiet, the fire engine and squad had been called out almost as soon as 'B' shift had assembled. 'A' shift fire crew had left smartly, all eager to get home, John Gage had remained behind to catch up on some paperwork. His temporary partner, Mel Ellison, had gone home on foot after her car wouldn't start,declining John's offer of a lift.

His paperwork finished and being last man around, John had quickly done a tour of the station shutting windows and locking the rear door so that no one could get into the station whilst it was left unattended. That job done, he was changing into his bike leathers ready for his journey home.

Suddenly he heard the sound of running footsteps coming from the main station hall and then the sound of voices. He frowned, perhaps it was just kids fooling around. Zipping his jacket up and grabbing his helmet and holdall he headed for the locker room door. As he reached it, a scream rent the stillness of the stationhouse. John dropped both his helmet and bag and rushed out.

There in the far corner of the hall, backed up against the locked rear vehicle bay door was Mel Ellison, a look of terror on her face, in front of her and approaching menacingly was a tall black man. In one hand he held Mel's purse, in the other a lethal looking knife.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing!" John shouted as he ran across the hall.

The man turned around, flicking his knife to and fro a dangerous look on his face. "Don't come any closer or she gets it!" he snarled.

"Gage, don't get involved, call the cops!" Mel pleaded.

At this closer range John could see that she was holding her left arm and that blood was seeping through her fingers. The man reached back and grabbed Mel by the hair.

"Let her go," John commanded.

"Or what, fella? I kinda hold all the cards," the man pushed Mel in front of him and held the knife to her throat.

"You've got her purse. You don't need any more," John reasoned. "Let her go."

Mel threw John a pleading frightened look, willing him to go and call the police, but John stood his ground.

"So what are you going to do, pal? You can't stay here all night, " John continued, keeping his tone light and conciliatory.

The man seemed to consider this line of reasoning and then edged around John keeping Mel between him and the dark-haired paramedic. "We're just going to walk out of here and one false move from you and she gets it," he said menacingly.

John backed away slightly. They were now edging down near the wall where the station office was housed. "And what will you do when you're out of here, then will you let her go?" John asked.

"I might," the man tightened his grip on Mel, she struggled slightly and then gasped as the knife blade rested lightly on her throat. All the time they were gradually edging closer to the open front doors of the fire station.

John bided his time, he had one chance at freeing Mel from the grasp of her assailant and he didn't want to blow it. As they passed the station office John shot out his hand and punched the station callout siren button.

The blare of the two tone alarm cut through the air, magnified by the emptiness of the hall.. John knew that both he and Mel were used to the noise and wouldn't be fazed by it, but he was counting on the attacker being caught off guard by the sound.

He was right, a look of terror came over the man's face, he let go of Mel, who stumbled out of his reach, dropped the knife and bag and sprinted out of the station.

John quickly hit the door release button, in case the man tried to come back in once he realised he had been tricked and then rushed over to where Mel was slumped on the floor in a sobbing, hysterical heap.

"Hey, it's okay, he's gone," John soothed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Mel sobbed into his shoulder. Then suddenly, Mel kissed him. John found himself returning the kiss, with a passion that frightened him. They both pulled away, sensing the enormity of what had just happened.

John was the first to break the awkward silence that followed. "Let's get that arm seen to, " he said, he found himself shaking slightly, "Come on."

John helped Mel to her feet, but as soon as she tried to walk her legs gave way, so John picked her up in his arms and carried her into the recreation room. He laid her on the couch and knelt down beside her.

"Let me look at that cut," he said quietly. Still crying, Mel held out her left arm. The cut was deep and still bleeding.

"I'll call an ambulance, you need to go to hospital," John said.

"No, no hospital, please no," Mel said a pleading edge to her voice.

"Okay, not at this minute, I'll dress it and then we'll see," John said, he went and got the spare emergency kit from the office, whilst he was there he phone 911 to report the attack to the police. When he returned Mel had stopped crying at last.

"I suppose I should be talking to you about the weather or some such nonsense to take your mind off of this," John said as he applied direct pressure to the cut to try and stem the flow of blood. Mel didn't answer, her teeth were clenched against the pain and her eyes were shut tight.

"But I won't," John added as he checked Mel's vital signs, they were all within normal tolerances except for her heart rate which was still racing.

John had just finished bandaging Mel's lower arm when he heard a commotion from out in the firehall. "I think the cops have just arrived," he commented to Mel who still had her eyes shut.

Suddenly, John found himself being grabbed from behind, his arms forced round his back, handcuffs applied to his wrists and he was thrown against the wall. "Police, spread 'em," a voice shouted from behind him.

"What the hell?" John started .

"Shut it and spread 'em," the voice commanded.

John did as he was told, he had no way of knowing whether the policeman was armed. He didn't fancy being shot for non-compliance. He managed to glance over to where Mel was lying on the couch, the other police officer was kneeling at her side.

"It's okay, ma'am. We've got him," he was saying, nodding in John's direction.

"For Chrissakes, Mel, tell them who I am!" John called, he was rewarded with a shove in the back.

"Stow it."

"Hi, guys, what's going on here?" the familiar voice of Officer Vince Howard, came from behind John. John breathed a sigh of relief, here at last was the voice of reason.

"Got a call that someone had been attacked here, Vince, but it's okay we've got the perp," the police officer holding John said, pulling John around to face the new arrival.

Vince burst out laughing at the sight of Johnny wearing handcuffs.

"I don't think it's that funny, Vince" John snarled.

"It is from where I'm standing, Johnny boy" Vince said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"You know this guy?" the police officer sounded incredulous.

"Yeah, of course I do, this is John Gage one of the paramedics based here, he's not your man," Vince said. "Not unless he's quit the day job."

John felt the cuffs being removed from his wrists. "Alright if I move now?" he enquired, a hint of sarcasm in his voice

"Sorry, sir, a mistake, our information was that it was a man in black," the young police officer looked pointedly at John's biking leathers.

John gave a wry smile "A black man," he corrected. "I called you guys, the assailant dropped his knife and Miss Ellison's purse in the station hall. You'd better retrieve them before the trucks get back."

John crossed over to Mel. "How are you feeling now?" he asked, taking her wrist in his hand and checking her pulse and respiration, both were now back to normal.

"A bit shaky, but fine," Mel assured him. "I could murder a coffee though," she admitted.

As if by magic a mug appeared at Mel's side, Vince making himself at home as usual had already raided the coffee pot that was permanently on the stove.

"Don't suppose you got me one too?" John asked.

Vince grinned, "Nope that was the last."

"Thanks a lot, pal."

"Hey, I just got you out of jail, what more do you want?" Vince protested.

John rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had cut in, giving Vince a baleful look.

"Okay, I take the hint, pal, I'll make some more," Vince said.

The two police officer returned from the vehicle bay carrying the attacker's knife and Mel's purse.

"We'll have to take these as evidence," one said. "Can you come down to the station with us, we have some mug shots which we'd like you to look at."

"Hey, guys, can't that wait until morning?" John asked. "I really would like the docs at Rampart to look at that cut."

The two police officers looked at Vince for guidance, he nodded.

"Johnny, I told you I'm not going to Rampart," Mel said as John rinsed the coffee mugs after the policemen had left.

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Sweetheart," John replied. "Don't worry I'm not going to call an ambulance, I'll give you a lift on my motorbike."

Mel look at him ready to argue, but could see by the look on his face that his mind was made up. "Okay, you win," she sighed.

***

Ten stitches later, Mel joined Johnny at the nurses station at Rampart General Hospital where Johnny was giving an animated blow by blow account of the night's adventure to Dixie McCall and a small group of nurses who felt that they had nothing better to do at that moment. "You should have seen him run," John laughed, "Like a bat out of Hell."

"Well that's an apt description of the Stationhouse," Dixie commented.

"Hey, it's not that bad, we do tidy up - sometimes," John protested.

"How's the arm?" Dixie asked Mel

John swung round and grinned, Mel certainly looked brighter now, he observed.

"A bit sore, but Doctor Early reckons I'll live," Mel replied.

John picked up the two crash helmets from the desk. "Right. Let's get you home," he said.

"That's a negative, Gage," Mel replied. "My keys were in my purse which the cops have got."

John groaned, there was no way he was going to Police HQ at this time of night, it would be packed full of drunks and other unsavoury nightpeople.

"You can stay at my place," he offered.

Mel snorted. "I don't think so," she said.

John shrugged "Well, if you can come up with a better idea, I can drop you anywhere, I'll be waiting outside," he said and carrying both crash helmets he made for the door.

"So what are you going to do?" Dixie asked Mel

Mel shook her head. "I don't know," she said sadly.

"Have you got anyone you could stay with?" Dixie asked. "John will drop you anywhere I'm sure."

"No, I don't really have any friends like that," Mel replied.

"That figures," Dixie thought, somewhat uncharitably "Why don't you take Johnny up on his offer then?"

"I can't, what would people think?" Mel exclaimed.

"People would think that you were a sensible young lady, " Dixie replied. "Johnny's a fine man, he wouldn't take advantage, not of a colleague."

"I don't know," Mel said, absently thinking of their brief encounter earlier.

They were interrrupted by the arrrival of a casulty "What have you go to lose?" Dixie asked as she move forward to greet the ambulance crew.

Mel shrugged. "What indeed?" she thought. She walked out into the car park.

John was leaning against his motorbike. "I wasn't sure if you were coming out," he commented.

"Neither was I, but all the beds in ICU are full," Mel replied, "So I guess I'll have to take you up on your offer." John grinned as he handed her a crash helmet. "But I warn you, Gage, if you so much as lay a finger on me you'll need more medical care than Rampart could provide."

John held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, I'm just interested in some food, some TV and some shuteye."

"Sounds good to me," Mel replied as she put on the crash helmet. John did likewise and a few minutes later the bike roared off into the night.

Authors Note:

Okay so I know Johnny drove a landrover in the series - but I decided that the LA traffic warranted a bike, ideally a Harley Davidson besides, I kinda liked the vision of John in black leather. I'll leave you to decide what happened next. Originally this was an AU story if anyone is interested in the original version let me know and I'll mail it to you.

"Case Of Mistaken Identity" ©1999 Karen Hobbs. "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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