It was an ordinary enough looking little tavern. There was a bar down one side. Booths lined the opposite wall. There were two pool tables in the center of the room. An old jukebox stood in the corner. It was dingy and the slight smell of smoke hung in the air at all times. There were thousands of places like this. The only thing that made it stand out was the collection of antique fire fighting apparatus that took up every spare inch of space in the place. Axes and other such tools hung on the walls. Outdated helmets, coats and boots hung from the high ceiling. And in a special glass case were badges. The badges of fallen comrades. It might have looked like a macabre collection to an outsider but outsiders seldom frequented The Second Alarm. This was a firemen's bar. It was where they came to unwind and spend time with the only other people on the planet who truly understood them and what they did. They came together as a special family in times of sorrow and in times of joy. This place had seen wedding receptions and wakes. They had rejoiced together when a child was born to a fireman and they gathered to say good bye when one of there own was taken either by fire, accident or by time. Some of the "old fire horses" spent much of their waking time here; remembering when they were the young bucks out there on the line fighting the devil as only those who have walked in and done battle with fire can do. But old timers or boots, they all had one thing in common, a feeling of brotherhood and it was a brotherhood unlike any other.
The brotherhood had recently changed. Some accepted the change and some fought it but the change was here to stay. Here in LA there were now women firefighters. They wore the uniform and they fought the devil right along side the men. They paid their dues. Though it was not that way in the beginning, they were now as welcome at The Second Alarm as any of the male firefighters. "Besides," Smokey, the owner had told those who complained, "they're a hell of a lot better lookin' than any of you guys." He might be old but he sure as hell wasn't dead yet. Change was part of life and life had to be taken on its own terms. The alternative was hangin' hose in that great hose tower in the sky.
This was to be a special night. There was a party planned. One of those family celebrations. One of their own was turning twenty-one. It was a big deal to those who were planning the party and it was a big deal to Smokey. While he felt close to all his patrons there was a special closeness to some of them although he never let it show. He knew secrets. All kinds of secrets. He'd held guys' hands while they cried in their beer over lost comrades. He'd held guys' heads when their bodies couldn't tolerate the things they were doing to wash away the pain and he'd held guys' car keys and got them other rides home when he had to also. It was all part of the service that came with the brotherhood. There was another part also. Part that came about as a vow he made to his dying captain. That vow was to help look out for the captain's two youngest kids. They were a pair of wild ones too. In an out of trouble as regular as clockwork. It wasn't an easy world for kids to find themselves parentless in but, hell when was it an easy world? Still he had kept his word. He'd watched over them from afar completely unbeknownst to them. He'd even pulled strings for them when he had to and in the end they both had turned out just fine. They had even both followed in his footsteps too. Tonight the youngest was turning twenty one.
Smokey took out a bottle of his best Irish whiskey. He set two glasses on the bar and filled them. "Well, Cap," he said quietly, picking up one of the glasses and saluting thin air. "We did it. The ‘little ones' are both grown. Turned out damn fine, too. You'd be proud." His eyes teared over and his voice caught for a minute then he continued, "Course they are still Kellys and you know what that means. Scrappers both of ‘um. Just like their old man." He remembered back to before the cap was his captain. They had served together early in his career and no one caused more trouble for his station and his friends than Clayt Kelly. Part of it was the pranks he pulled. No one thought of better pranks than Clayt. But the pranks weren't the real problem. It was his temper and the booze. Clayt had what these days would be called a problem with alcohol. In his day, they would have called him a drunk, if he had been anyone else. As it was, he was their friend and you were loyal to your friends no matter what. But the truth of the matter was he was a drunk. He could be a mean drunk too. How many times had Mary left him? But she always came back. She was loyal to him and so were his men. He had his good times and he had his bad times. The bad times came closer and closer after Mary died. But that night in the warehouse when three of his men were trapped, Clayt Kelly took that devil on single-handedly. He held the line while three injured men made good their escape. They all knew it was too late by the time they got him out. He died in Smokey's arms just outside the building waiting for an ambulance to come. Odds were better for guys hurt in fires these days. One of the reasons was that paramedics were on the scene. They made a difference. Whether they could have saved Clayt or not, he'd never know but they saved a hell of a lot of people. Firefighters and civilians.
Smokey finished his drink. He picked up the cap's glass. He almost considered throwing it down the sink but at the last minute he came to his senses and drank it too. He wasn't about to throw good whiskey away over sentiment. The cap would have kicked him in the ass if he had, he decided.
An anxious rattling at the door got his attention. He glanced at the old Regulator clock that hung behind the bar -- the same one that had hung in the original LA battalion headquarters. Still worked too. Kept better time than those damn digital things they had these days that did nothing but blink their ugly red numbers at you every time there was a power outage. It was ten minutes till two. He didn't open until two. He had a good mind to let whoever it was wait. But he had a pretty good idea who it was and waiting was not an option. He hid the bottle of good stuff away and went over to the door.
"I ain't open yet. What the hell do you want?"
"Let us in, Smokey. This stuff is heavy."
If they had had women firefighters in his day he might not have remained a bachelor. He slid the lock back and opened the door to reveal three women in their early twenties. They were each carrying a large cardboard box. They walked past him and placed the boxes on one of the pool tables.
"What the hell's all this?" He put on his gruffest voice.
"Party stuff, Smokey," Tinker explained. He knew her real name was Alicia followed by a Japanese last name he'd never be able to spit out. To him she looked like a little slip of a thing and yet he knew she was an Engineer and handled that big rig as well as any of the men. He also knew she was a champion gymnast which may have accounted for her strength. It was her smile and the way she tilted her head when she talked that he was thinking about at the moment. Damn why hadn't they put women into harness before he got so damn old?
"Smokey?" Barb asked curiously.
He'd known Barb Yates for a few years. She used to work in dispatch before she hooked up with Station 18. That wasn't where he knew her from though. She had made the change that most fireman's wives think about during the long hours of loneliness while their husbands were on duty. She had gone from fireman's wife to fireman. Firefighter, he corrected himself. New word, same job. Barb had been here with her husband Bill on many occasions. Bill worked at Station 10. Smokey wondered how Bill had accepted the idea of her doing this. He'd even asked him. Bill was a modern guy. He had just said if she accepted him doing it, it was only right that he return the favor. Smokey wasn't that modern. He also knew men were not as strong as women when it came to waiting behind and worrying.
"Smokey, are you all right?" Barb repeated.
"Course I am. Why the hell wouldn't I be? Just because you girls are coming in here, invading my bar with boxes of ‘decorations.' Maybe I like the way the place looks just the way it is," he huffed.
"We just want to liven the joint up a little, Sweet Cheeks," Big Red grinned. It wasn't her name but it was what he called her. She was the tallest women he'd ever known and the first time he'd met her she had red hair. Her hair color seemed to change at whim. He had to admit it was hard for him to notice her hair at all because she was so otherwise well endowed. She was loud and boisterous and the farthest thing he could imagine from a demure Southern Belle. She had been a professional roller derby queen before she'd joined the department. She'd actually worked fires with her father's volunteer unit since she was fourteen back in Podunk Corners, Georgia or wherever she was from. She was also a pretty mean pool player. Between her skill and her chest size she'd cleaned out more that one station right here in front of him. He'd warned the guys but their egos would never let them listen.
"Besides," Tinker smiled sweetly, "It's for Cassie. How often does a person celebrate her twenty-first birthday?" Smokey remembered that he'd drunk a toast to that girl's birth right here in this bar. He hadn't owned it at that time, of course, but he'd been here.
"You sure she ain't gotten wind a this?" Smokey challenged, maintaining his gruff exterior.
"She doesn't have a clue that we know it's her birthday. Pidge is going to lure her here on false pretenses. They have a meeting today and then they are coming by supposedly to help Barb and Bill celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. She won't suspect a thing," Tinker enthused. "We've been very careful. Everyone else knows but her. This is going to be the greatest party ever!"
"Hey, with great atmosphere like this -- how could it miss?" Smokey agreed. Another family occasion for the brotherhood.
By six the decorations were in place and the girls had changed out of their cutoffs and tanktops (much to Smokey's disappointment) and into attire more befitting a party. People started to arrive. The first one was Bill Yates. "Smokey, I'm starving. My wife has deserted me for almost the whole day. I may just perish from the earth," he moaned, leaning on the bar dramatically.
"There's a pot of chili in the kitchen -- or there was, God knows what's what since them dames took over in there." Smokey raised his voice enough so that they could hear his complaint.
Whitey, his short order cook, had just arrived and started complaining also. He and Big Red had had a go around and for once it seemed that Whitey had lost. "You wanna burger, kid?" he hollered out to Bill.
"There will be plenty of food at the party," Barb told her husband.
"Yeah but that's party food. It's not the same thing," Bill whined. "I need some real food."
"A meal ain't a meal with out some dead cow," Smokey laughed. "You girls just ain't been firemen long enough to know that."
As he expected, the three of them verbally pounced on every part of his remark. It got their attention off Bill and he was able to order his burger in peace. The brotherhood again, Smokey thought as he purposely took the heat off of Bill.
Gage, Lopez and Kelly from 51's turned up. "You sure she doesn't suspect?" Kelly asked the girls.
"Relax, Doll Boy. Y'all worry too much," Crenshaw told him.
"Come on, Chet. Me ‘n Marco will let ya beat us at a game of pool," Gage told him.
"Let me?!. That's rich, Gage. I'm the best pool player in the whole department!" Chet was indignant.
"That so?" Crenshaw asked innocently. "Wouldn't care ta make a friendly little wager on that would you?"
"I'll see all comers," Chet said confidently.
"Step into my office," Crenshaw smiled and gestured to the far pool table which was the better of the two.
Chet's confidence wavered a bit as she produced a custom made pool cue but he never let on as he racked up the balls.
"You set my pal Chet up," Smokey accused Gage as he and Marco sauntered over to the bar in search of a beer.
"Like leading a lamb to slaughter," Gage laughed. "Like they say, Smokey, paybacks is hell. I'm just paying Chester B back for all those times he stuck me with the dishes."
"I'll get this round," Marco volunteered.
"Well thanks, Marco. Whadya say you wanna try a game on this table -- just between us mere mortals?" Gage indicated the other pool table. Neither he nor Marco minded its flaws. It gave them something to blame the bad shots on.
"You're on," Marco said paying Smokey for the two bottles of beer.
Johnny was racking up the balls when Tinker approached him. "What time did the meeting end, Johnny?"
"Little after 5:30. Pidge and Suzy Parker were going to take her out to dinner and stall her as long as they could then stop by here." Johnny reported chalking up his cue. Suddenly Marco's cue managed to hit him in the shin. He shot a glance at Marco who had a very insistent look on his face. "Oh - ah Tinker this is my good buddy Marco Lopez. Marco, this is Alicia Taka -- Taka ---"
"Takamora," Tinker rescued him, "But just call me Tinker. Everyone else does." She smiled at Marco and he seemed to forget Johnny was there.
"Your shot, Marco," Johnny sounded a bit annoyed.
"Well, excuse me a still have a few things to do. Maybe I'll run into you later," Tinker siad with a pleasant smile.
"I hope so," Marco smiled broadly. Once she had left he turned on Johnny. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"I thought we were playing pool."
"There's more to life that pool, Johnny," Marco muttered.
"Just trying to save you from yourself. I thought you were dating Rosita Sanchez and you know how jealous she gets."
"Just take your shot," Marco muttered.
"It's your turn," Johnny was exasperated.
"Well why didn't you say so?" Marco lined up for his shot but he couldn't help but look around to try and find Tinker. He didn't see her so he took his shot. His concentration had been lousy and soon it was Johnny's play again. He straightened up and took a hit off his beer bottle. "So, Johnny, is Tinker - ah - attached?"
"Hey, Marco. I only worked there one shift and Captain Tacy made sure there wasn't too much personal interaction on anybody's part. Wonder if she's coming tonight."
"Why not? Our cap is."
"Well if she does you'd better just watch your step. I'm warning ya. I wouldn't put it past the Iron Maiden to make you do 100 pushups right in front of everybody," Johnny laughed.
"Just take your shot," Marco muttered.
"Don't get mad. I'll tell you all I know. She's Japanese-American. She's a gymnast and she's the engineer."
"And---"
"And that's all I know the rest it up to you but I'm not hiding you out from Rosita this time. You're on your own."
"Well, for your information, me and Rosita broke up."
"You finally got up the courage to dump her?!" Johnny was amazed. Rosita was Marco's fiery tempered girlfriend. They had something of a stormy relationship but Marco claimed there were enough other benefits to dating Rosita that offset the times he was occasionally in fear for his life.
"Well, not exactly," Marco admitted sheepishly. "She got a speeding ticket on the 405 last week."
"She killed the cop?!!"Johnny gasped fearfully.
"No. She fell in love with him."
"She dumped you?" Johnny giggled.
"Just play."
"Does Chet know?"
"If he finds out, do you know how many things I could spike your chili with?" Marco threatened.
"Hey I can keep a secret."
"Since when, Junior?" Roy asked.
Johnny spun around. Roy and Joanne were right behind him. "Oh, hello, Joanne. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Johnny. Hi, Marco," she greeted.
"Hello, Joanne," Marco smiled.
"Better watch out for him, Roy. He's on the rebound," Johnny grinned lining up to take his shot.
"Oops," Marco said as his pool cue mysteriously dropped out of his hand and crashed down onto Johnny's hand making him not only miss the shot he was trying to take but causing the white ball to dive into the corner pocket.
Before Johnny could object Marco said, "Scratch. I think it's time for another round." He picked up his empty beer bottle and shook it at Johnny. "You guys want some? Johnny's buying this round."
"Well who could resist an offer like that?" Roy asked. "Come on let's grab a booth while there are still some left. Just bring the drinks over here, Waitress."
"There better be a good tip in this for me," Johnny griped.
Marco led them to the booth with the best view of Chet getting his clock cleaned.
Johnny didn't have any trouble carrying the four bottles of beer. It was the glass he'd thought to ask for for Joanne that was getting his load off balance. He was concentrating so hard on not dropping them that he nearly walked right into Captain Tacy.
"All those for you, Gage?" she barked.
"Ah -- oh no," Johnny gasped trying to think of a way to avoid inviting Captain Tacy to join them. Luckily the crowd that had gathered to witness Chet's slaughter was growing loud and captured the captain's attention. She wandered off in that direction.
Johnny thanked his lucky stars and went on with his ‘waitress' duties.
By the time he arrived at the table Chet's defeat was complete and he came over and joined them grabbing the fourth beer. The one that was supposed to be Johnny's.
"Hey!"
"Hey nothing, you bastard---ah you creep," Chet suddenly caught sight of Joanne. "You set me up!"
"You set yourself up with all your bragging," Johnny argued.
Chet waved his hand at Johnny in disbelief. "So, guys, what was this big paramedic meeting all about today. Some weird new technique you're gonna be wanting to practice on the rest of us?"
"I doubt it, Chet. If we do, you can call the Inquirer about it," Johnny smirked.
"Oh yeah, like you guys don't use the rest of us for guinea pigs." Chet returned the evil look.
"Well, I don't think you'd qualify for a guinea pig this time, Chet." Roy broke them up from force of habit. "This meeting was all about some new obstetrics techniques."
"New obstetrics techniques? Women have been having babies for centuries-- without all your fancy techniques. Who needs ‘um?" Chet expertly baited the paramedics and they both bit. Joanne and Marco looked at each other and shook their heads. Some things just never changed.
"All right, Children! This is supposed to be a party. NO fighting!"
They looked up to see Captain Stanley and Stoker standing there.
"We're not fighting. We're discussing," Johnny argued.
"They're fighting," Joanne disagreed.
"I'm taking the lady's word for it. Knock it off!" he said with an air of command they knew better than to argue with.
"Where's Helen tonight, Hank?" Joanne asked. Since she only knew the Captain socially she felt much more at ease calling him by his first name than Roy did.
"She had to work and since my son got his licence I seem to find myself without wheels more and more so I guess Stoker's my date."
"Don't worry, I won't try anything," Stoker assured him, taking a drink of his beer.
They all stared at him since the remark was so unlike the quiet engineer.
"Did he get a head start on the rest of us?" Chet asked.
Just then the lights flicked off for a few seconds signaling the approach of the guest of honor. The little bar was pretty crowded by this time but everyone was able to keep quiet long enough to yell "Surprise" when three of the paramedics from Station 18 walked in.
A moment of confusion crossed Cassie's face but one look at her partner and Suzy, one of the B Shift paramedics, was enough to clear it up. She had been had. The Kelly bent for revenge automatically kicked in but only two people in the place suspected a thing. Everyone else gathered around to congratulate her.
"You were in on this?" she accused Chet.
"Not me. I just happened to be here to relieve Johnny and Marco of some of their paychecks."
"Liar!"
But Chet was able to drift away before she could pin his ears back. Every station present was required to buy her a beer, according to house tradition. She stopped by at 51's table and the cap handed her her birthday beer.
"Thank you, Saptain Canley," she smiled happily.
"You're welcome," he smiled also, looking at the others. "You know everyone here? This is Joanne, Roy's wife."
"We've met," Joanne told him. "Cassie got Chris out of the tree that time he broke his arm. He's still talking about his friend the lady fireman."
"So just you remember," she shook her finger at Roy. "I know where you live, Roy Dodge."
"DeSoto," Roy corrected her.
"Some kind of finky old car," she said breezily.
"She's sloshed,"
Johnny laughed.
"I am not. I'm just...uninhibited," Cassie disagreed.
"When were you ever inhibited, girl?" Pidge asked her with disbelief. Cassie was her partner. This party had been her idea. She was going to keep an eye on her whether she liked it or not.
"She never could hold her liquor," Chet complained. "She's a disgrace to the whole Irish race."
"Chet, if she's only turning twenty-one today, how would you know if she can hold her liquor or not?" Johnny asked.
"Oh grow up, Gage. Even you are not usually this naive. Maybe you should take it easy on the firewater too, Pal?"
"This is no time for any of your racial prejudices, Chet."
"Which of his racial prejudices?" Cassie asked.
"He's always razzing me because I'm an Indian," Johnny explained.
"Oh well that explains it. He's just jealous," Cassie said.
"What do you mean?" Johnny asked.
"Well, my grandmother tells of one of her ancestors in the pioneer days..."
"That's enough, Cassie," Chet warned.
"Would this be that Cherokee Princess, Chet?" Johnny whispered.
Chet just shot him a dirty look and tried to think of a way to shut up his blabbermouth sister.
She ignored him and went on ".... that was carried off by Indians in a raid. Her husband searched and searched for her. I guess it took over a year but when he finally found her. She and the other white women who were carried off with her, refused to come back with them."
"Why?" Marco was intrigued.
"Lots of reasons I guess, but the main one was that Indians were so much better in the sack." Cassie shrugged and took a drink of her beer.
Johnny and Roy had both sprayed the mouthsful they'd had onto the table and Joanne wasn't far behind.
"That true, Johnny?" she asked sweetly.
"Say good-bye to the nice firemen, Cassie," Pidge steered her away from the table."You aren't that drunk," she hissed when they were out of ear shot.
"Nope but I'm that uninhibited," she laughed.
"Propositioning that fireman right in front of his captain and everything you should be ashamed of yourself!"
"But, Pidge, I'm only asking in the interest of science," she protested.
"Science, my ass, girl," Pidge steered her back toward the table that Station 18 was occupying.
"Kelly causing trouble?" Captain Tacy asked.
"She's asking a lot of embarrassing questions," Pidge reported.
"Hey, it's my party and I'll pry if I want to," Cassie told her.
"How much has she had to drink?"Captain Tacy asked.
"Not that much," Pidge said. "But her brother claims she can't drink."
"Looks like he's right."
"Now wait just one minute here, Cap. Chet is never right!" Cassie said emphatically. She swayed slightly when she spoke.
Marco and Mike Stoker were walking by. Both reached out to steady her.
"Chivalry is not dead," she murmured.
"You'd better park it, Kelly." The cap slid over and Mike and Marco steered her toward the bench. "I think this girl needs to get some food into her. Why don't you go see about that cake?"
"Gracias, Marco y Miguel," Cassie smiled.
"Oh cripes, there she goes with them foreign languages," Crenshaw complained.
"English is foreign to you, Grits-snorter," Cassie challenged.
Mike nodded his head toward the bar and he and Marco escaped. "I don't think those two girls like each other," Mike commented.
"Really? What gives you that idea?" Marco laughed. He might have hung around at the table but Tinker had left with Pidge to check on the cake.
"I'd forget it if I was you," Mike said simply.
"Forget what?" Marco demanded.
"That cute little Oriental girl. She's not your type."
"Oh and who's type is she? Yours?"
"Well, she is the engineer," Mike shrugged.
"You forget it, too. Your date's the cap," Marco laughed.
"He's not my type," Mike argued.
***
Pidge, Tinker and Barb invaded Whitey's kitchen."We're ready for the cake now, Ezekiel," Pidge said.
"Ezekiel?!" Smokey laughed.
"Give me some slack, Smokey. The girl goes to my church. As if it wasn't hard enough being called Whitey in my neighborhood my mama has to saddle me with Ezekiel too!" Whitey complained. "Oughtta be a law against women namin' babies when labor is still fresh in their minds."
"We'll be happy to step back once you men start handlin' the labor part!" Pidge fired back.
"Face it, Whitey. You can't win." Smokey laughed.
"None of us can, Smoke. Next thing ya know they'll be runnin' the department," Whitey complained good naturedly. He'd been one of the first black men in the department so he actually had some understanding of what these women were going through trying to gain acceptance into the previously all male department. It had been all white once too.
***
While the cake was being readied in the kitchen a lively debate was taking place at 51's table.
"Well, I'm still not sure it's really right getting that poor girl drunk on her twenty-first birthday," Johnny argued.
"Why not, Junior? I seem to recall we got you drunk on your twenty-first birthday," Roy reminded him.
"Not on, Roy. Shortly after. I was in the middle of training on my actual birthday. And there was no way I was going to be anything but bright-eyed and bushy tailed to face Dr Brackett each day. I can guarantee you that," Johnny vowed.
"I seem to recall Roy tried to get me drunk on my twenty-first birthday too," Joanne stated.
"Jo!" Roy whispered but he was ignored by everyone.
"Oh," Johnny was a little shocked at his partner. "Do tell, Joanne. This is a side of Roy I, for one, would like to hear about."
"Well, the plan backfired. I didn't get drunk and he got sick," Joanne laughed as did the others at the table.
"I gotta work with these guys," Roy whined.
"Don't worry. I'll make it up to you. We'll celebrate Cassie's birthday the same way we eventually did mine," Joanne whispered to him.
"Can we go now?" Roy asked hopefully.
"Not yet, it would be rude."
"That doesn't bother me a bit," Roy told her honestly.
The discussion was ended by a commotion coming out of the kitchen. The cake made its entrance amid much pot clanging and off-key singing. Smokey demanded everyone's attention. "Due to the Fire Regulations regarding open flame in a cozy little establishment like this we have had to forgo the candle tradition."
"Hey, am I being robbed of my wish?" Cassie demanded.
"Lucky for us," Chet commented into her ear.
"Damn! I wanted to find out if Great, Great Aunt Nellie was telling the truth about Indians," she whispered back.
"Shut up!" Chet gasped then glared at her. All this time he really thought all he had to worry about with her being in the department was fires.
Soon both the cake and Cassie were sitting on the bar. She was doling out pieces to everyone but Pidge was wisely not letting her near the knife and was cutting the cake herself.
During the commotion Drs. Early and Brackett and Dixie came in. They approached crowd at the bar. The first familiar face they came upon was Johnny.
"Well, great! Ya made it!" he grinned. "Just in time for the cake."
"Perfect timing as always," Dr Early grinned.
"Where's the birthday girl?" Dixie asked.
"Right up there -- providing she doesn't fall into the cake," Johnny laughed. "She's about three sheets to the wind."
"Cassie?" Dixie laughed.
"Well, it's not entirely her fault. Everyone keeps pouring beer into her."
Dix's eyebrow shot up suspiciously.
"Don't worry, Dix. She's perfectly safe. She's Chet's kid sister that makes her everybody's kid sister," Johnny explained.
Roy and Joanne joined them.
"Hi, Dix, Docs," Roy grinned.
Johnny noticed that Roy had been grinning like the Cheshire Cat for the last hour or so. He had been preventing himself from grinning but he had every intention of rubbing in what Cassie had said next time the conversation of his love life came up at the station.
"You remember Joanne," Roy went on.
"It's good to see her when she'd not sick with worry about one of you two clowns," Dr. Brackett joked.
"You worry about me?" Johnny asked Joanne.
"Of course I do, Johnny, and I will even more now after what Cassie told us," she laughed.
That remarked stunned both of the paramedics into silence.
"What did Cassie tell you?"Dix's ears perked up.
"Come on to the ladies' room with me and I'll tell you," Joanne whispered.
"Uh oh," Roy said quietly to Johnny.
"Uh oh, is right," Johnny gasped but the more he thought about it the more he decided a rumor like that might just work to his advantage. He recalled all of the stupid Indian stereotypes he'd had to deal with over the years but he decided that this was one he might just be able to live with.
"Well, don't be shy. If you don't get in there and grab some food in the Fire Service you go hungry," Roy told Brackett and Early.
Soon they made their way up to the front of the line.
"Doctor Gorgeous! Dr Joe!" Cassie threw an arm around each of them and they wished her happy birthday.
"Now how come he's gorgeous and I'm just Joe," Dr Early complained.
A sad look came over Cassie's face and she said in all seriousness, "Well, Doc, life's just not fair. That's why bras come in all different sizes."
"She IS smashed," Brackett declared.
"She sure is. Time to take her home and put her to bed. Say Good Night, Cassie," Chet stepped in.
"You don't think for one minute I'm gonna do what you say!" Cassie said defiantly but then a quizzical look came over her face. "Either one of you. God two Chets! It must be the end of the world......" she started to slump forward but he caught her and neatly folded her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"We'll take all the cards and things into work tomorrow and she can pick them up there," Tinker assured him.
"Good-night all," Chet waved and carried his sister out of the main room of the bar and into the little alcove where the vending machines and restrooms were. Dixie and Joanne were coming out of the ladies' room.
"My God! What happened!" Joanne demanded.
"She passed out. I'm gonna take her home and put her to bed," Chet told them.
"Some birthday," Dixie was sympathetic.
"Oh don't worry. She had a good time but when she started discussing bra sizes with Dr Early I decided she'd had more than enough to drink."
"She did what?!" Dixie gasped. She had to work with Joe Early. "We'd better get back in there and see if we can do a little damage control."
"Good night, Chet," Joanne called as they went back into the main room of the pub.
As soon as the alcove was empty Chet put her down. "Okay," he said. "What have you got in mind?"
"This is a surprise party. Just a little surprise," she smiled. She showed no signs of her earlier drunkenness. "Paybacks is hell, like you always say, Big Brother."
"I know what I always say but you'd better watch what you say -- especially to Gage. There's only so much adjustment to a helmet, you know. He'll never get his to fit now."
She just waved what he said off and popped into the ladies' room. She came out with the number ten can that had held the john brush and a roll of toilet paper which she had run under the faucet and slightly dampened. She looked around a minute then said, "the supply closet."
It was locked but he jimmied it with ease and they stepped inside. "Smoke bomb under the sprinkler?" he guessed.
"It's simple but somehow classic -- especially in this instance."
He picked up a couple of wire coat hangers that had been left on one of the shelves and began weaving them into a basket like contraption while she stuffed the roll of toilet paper into the can. They expertly slipped the can into the basket. He climbed up and hung it from the sprinkler head. "You know there might be one or two people in the department that would consider this arson?" he commented.
"Not arson. Vandalism. Smokey has one of the old sprinkler systems that are not connected to any automatic alarms but more importantly for the prank, it's a unified system. All you have to do is let one head sense smoke and the whole thing activates. There's a roomful of soon to be wet firemen in there. But they are going to look for a fire before they call it in. And all they will find is a malfunctioning sprinkler system," she grinned evilly.
"Simple but classic," Chet had to agree as he lit the toilet paper. It wouldn't burn much once the match burned down but it would smoke and smolder and it would set off the sprinkler system. For good measure he took the bulb out of the closet making detection of the smoke bomb even less likely. They re-locked the closet and hot footed it out of there.
Due to the crowd for the party the parking lot was full. Chet had had to park across the street. They ran over there and squatted behind some bushes to watch the fun.
***
It wasn't too long before a bunch of wet people began to pour out into the parking lot. There was a lot of bustle and confusion but once everyone was outside several of the firemen went back in, in search of a fire. They found none and turned off the sprinkler system. The party pretty well broke up. Since the excitement was now over Cassie and Chet headed back to his car. They got inside and prepared to wait until anyone who might recognize the car had left. They were laughing and congratulating themselves on the coup they had just pulled off when suddenly a voice from the back seat said. "No hurry, kids. Soon as everyone's gone you two have a lot of mopping up to do."
They turned around and saw Smokey sitting in the back seat.
"Busted," Cassie commented.
"You bet your asses -- busted," Smokey said with satisfaction. Outwardly he was angry but inwardly he said, Apples don't fall far from the tree, do they, Cap?
