Graphic by Wendlar

DOG DAZE OF SUMMER

By gwen doucet

Part One

Due to an unseasonably warm September, a stifling haze hung heavy over the city. The heat of the early morning sun seemed to scorch the very air, making it uncomfortably hot for the average person on the street, and unbearably so for the weary fire fighters who were finally managing to get a stubborn blaze under control. A local junkyard had ignited in flames a few hours earlier, and fed by a stockpile of used tires, was proving to be a messy one to fight.

Station 51's fire fighting crew were finally managing to take a well deserved break, munching on sandwiches and quaffing large quantities of coffee, despite the heat, trying to rid their mouths of the foul taste of burnt rubber.

Chet Kelly tossed his turnout coat aside, leaning back against the chain link fence that surrounded the property. "Man, I wish I was up in Canada today."

"Why?" asked John Gage, pausing for a beat before adding, "Not that I wouldn't love to see you somewhere else, mind you…"

Chet's moustache crinkled as he decided to ignore the dig. It was too hot to spar with his favorite pigeon. He turned to the others. "Think about it. At least in Canada it'd be nice and cold."

Captain Hank Stanley quirked an eyebrow at the stocky fire fighter. "Ah, Kelly, it's summer in Canada too, you know. Actually, I heard on the news this morning that it's hotter there than here today."

"Right." Chet laughed out loud. "Good one, Cap."

Stanley gave shrugged. "It's the truth, Pal."

"Oh, come on." Chet turned to fellow fire fighters Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker, lounging beside him on the narrow strip of grass. "Back me up here, guys. It's always snowing across the border, right? They're skiing in the streets up there."

Before Marco or Mike could reply, Roy DeSoto spoke up. "Afraid not, Chet. If you want cold weather this time of year, you should go to Australia. It's their winter down there now."

"What?" Chet got up, dumping the last of his coffee on the ground. "Wait a minute. I know what's going on here. You're all just trying to get another one over on old Chester B. Well, I'm too smart to fall for that. Hotter in Canada than here. Give me a break." He stalked away, shaking his head.

Stanley laughed quietly. "Now there goes a man that personifies the term 'ignorance is bliss'." Getting up, he motioned to the others. "Come on men, time to give the guys from 14 a break."

By noon, the fire was deemed under control, just a few smoldering tire mounds that Engine 25 could deal with alone. The crews from the other stations began quickly packing up equipment, anxious to get away from the nauseating fumes.

Johnny, in the middle of taking his turnout coat off, noticed a stray dog wandering among the miles of snaking hose, licking at the water that was leaking from some of them.

"Hey, get away from there! Shoo!"

The dog, a little mutt, raised its head, almost seeming to glare at the paramedic before scooting over to another patch of water. Johnny started after it, waving his hands. "Hey, didn't you hear me? Git!!"

The mutt stood his ground, eyeing Johnny. Waiting until the paramedic was almost on him, he then scooted off a little ways and stopped. Johnny glared at it. Didn't the stupid dog know that he could get hurt around all the equipment? He started towards the mutt again, and again the dog waited for Johnny to almost reach him before scurrying away. It soon became clear the little dog was playing Johnny like a trout on a line. Finally, frustrated, Johnny lunged at it but, slipping on a patch of water, he suddenly found himself struggling to keep his balance. Arms wind milling, he fell, belly flopping into a big, muddy puddle.

"Damn it!" Johnny swore, as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He looked down at his uniform in disgust. He was covered in mud, saturated. And just out of his reach, the dog stood, head cocked to one side as it stared at Johnny. Then, barking twice, sounding almost like it was laughing, the dog turned and ran off.

"Stupid pooch," Johnny muttered as he tried to wipe the mud away from his face. He just succeeded in smearing it further.

"Oh, I don't know, Gage. Seems to me that the pooch got the best of you there."

Johnny looked up into the amused blue eyes of his friend Paul "Chili" Chilibeck, a fire fighter from Station 14.

"Gee, thanks for the help, Chili," Johnny said sarcastically as he struggled to get up, trying to get traction on the slippery ground.

"Any time, Gage. Any time." Chili turned to Roy as Johnny's partner made his way over to them. "Guess you can dress him up but just can't take him anywhere, huh?"

"Hey, I'm not taking the blame for his wardrobe," Roy shot back with a grin as he deposited his turnout coat in the side door of the squad. "Especially those multi colored patch jeans he was wearing the other day."

"Oh yeah, those! I needed sunglasses to look at him."

"Very funny guys. Laugh it up." Johnny glared at them as he hung his turnout coat on the back of the squad, hoping to dry it out for a few minutes. "Just don't give up your day jobs, Rowan and Martin. You'll starve."

"Oooh, guess we've been told, huh?" Chili winked at Roy.

Roy grinned and turned back to begin checking the inventory of the drugs and bandages. Though there had been no serious injuries in the fire, they had dealt with the occasional scrapes and burns.

Chili stepped over to his friend. "Hey, John. How about going skydiving this weekend? I'm thinking it should be nice and cool up there."

"Aw, man. I'd love to, but I'm busted. The Rover needs a new clutch."

Chili shook his head. "That hunk of metal of yours is certainly making your mechanic a very rich man."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Johnny waved a dismissing hand. "You know, Chili, I love skydiving and all but it's getting pretty expensive. I mean, for what we pay between the two of us per jump, we could probably rent our own plane."

"Hmm," Chili looked at Johnny, then over at Roy. He started smiling. "Hey, DeSoto. You flew in the service, right?"

Distracted, Roy looked up from the drug box. "Yeah. Cargo planes, that kind of thing."

Chili nonchalantly leaned against the Squad. "Don't you miss flying?"

"Sure. Actually, it's been longer than I care to remember."

Johnny started to grin as he saw where Chili was leading the conversation. He didn't notice that behind him, the mutt had made another appearance.

Chili gave Roy an innocent look. "Well, why don't you rent a plane sometime? I mean, I'd think once you've been up there, you wouldn't want to stay away."

"You're kidding, right?" Roy laughed. "I've got a mortgage and a growing family to feed. To say nothing of braces and ballet lessons and little league and saving for university…" He shook his head. "Things you single guys can't even imagine."

"Thank god," Chili whispered in an aside to Johnny.

Roy glanced up at the sky for a brief moment, then back at the two men standing beside him. "You are right about one thing, though Chili. I do miss flying."

"So why don't…."

"Hey, Chili, get your butt over here and give us a hand!"

Chili looked over at his crewmate, FF Peter Volden. "Keep your suspenders on, Volden. I'm coming." Shrugging, he grinned at the two paramedics. "Catch ya later." He hurried off.

Johnny turned to Roy. "Roy, I just had a great idea. We could…."

"Better save that idea for later, Johnny." Roy pointed to the back of the Squad. "You might want to see about getting your coat back from your friend there. I don't think you want to explain to Cap how you lost another turnout coat."

"What?"

Johnny turned to see what Roy was talking about. The mutt had somehow snagged his coat from where it had been hanging and was now dragging it through the mud and water.

"HEY!!!" Johnny yelled, starting after the dog. The dog dropped the coat and scurried off, stopping a short distance away to bark defiantly at the paramedic before disappearing around a building.

Frustrated, Johnny picked up the coat, now thoroughly dirty, inside and out.

"You know," Roy said, clapping him on the back. "I'd say the little guy just doesn't seem to like you."

Looking down at his messy jacket and at the mud on his clothes, Johnny could only shake his head. "Oh man. It's gonna be one of those shifts."

Roy turned and walked away quickly. No way, he wasn't going to let Johnny get started on one of his rants. Not today. It was too hot to listen to something like that today.

"I'm telling you, it's going to be the next big thing," Chet declared, waving his arms excitedly as he talked.

Mike Stoker scratched his head in puzzlement as he stared at his fellow fire fighter. "You mean, people get up and sing to records and the rest of you sit around listening. Oh yeah, that sounds like a real winner."

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it. The Japanese have been doing it for years." Chet was fairly bouncing on his toes. "I'm telling you, I had a blast last night. You really feel like you're, you're a star or something. It was like I was Mel Torme, you know, the Velvet Fog? Man, I never knew I liked singing so much."

"Yeah, but does singing like you?" asked Marco, grinning.

"Karaoke? Sounds like a bad sneeze," Stoker said, as he headed out the kitchen door. Passing Johnny who was just walking in, he advised, "Watch out for the velvet fog horn."

Johnny, having showered and changed into a clean uniform, was still dragging a towel through his hair and thought he must have misunderstood. "Velvet fog horn?" Seeing Chet about to explain, Johnny held up a hand. "Forget it. I don't want to know." He tossed his towel aside. "God, I still smell burning rubber."

"That's probably just from your brain straining to think," Chet advised him helpfully. "Course, it's so hot, it's probably just melting anyway."

Johnny cocked an eyebrow at him. "Man, I'm really getting tired of everyone complaining about the heat."

"Ah, no need to get HOT under the collar, man!" Chet said, smirking.

"Chet!" warned Johnny.

"Hmm, you're getting STEAMED there, Johnny."

"I'm warning you, Kelly…"

"Oh, you're just blowing HOT air, Gage," Chet snickered, edging around the table, making sure he was out of swatting distance.

Marco was trying not to laugh at Johnny's expression but he couldn't help it. He turned away, shoulders shaking.

"Kelly!" Johnny was fairly sputtering. "Keep it up and I think I'll have to show you who's really the king of pranks around here."

"Ohhhh, I'm shaking." Chet held his arms out making his hands shake. "Guess you told me, huh?"

At that moment, the phone rang. Roy jumped up to answer it, welcoming the interruption. Unfortunately, Stoker yelled from the other room, "I've got it."

Sighing, Roy headed over to the cupboard to get himself a glass instead trying to ignore the conversation around him.

"You just wait," Johnny said, as he started to advance on Chet. "I'll have you jumping at your own shadow…"

"Oh yeah?" Chet challenged, interrupting him. "The phantom might have something to say about that."

Captain Stanley held up a hand, motioning to the two bickering men. "All right, you two, this conversation is NOT happening. Do I make myself clear?"

Before they could answer, Stoker stuck his head around the kitchen door. "Hey Cap. The Chief's on the phone for you."

"I'll take it in the office." Stanley got up, stopping at the door to glare at his two men. "I'm serious, guys. It's too hot to have a prank war. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Johnny answered glumly.

"Sure, Cap." Chet graced him with an innocent smile that struck fear in the Captain's heart. Sighing, he headed out to his office.

"Come on, Marco." Chet crooked a finger at his fellow fire fighter. "I want to a…a show you something in the locker room.

Marco rolled his eyes, getting up. "Real subtle, Chet," he mumbled as they headed out the door.

Johnny watched them leave, eyes narrowed, then shrugged. He turned back to his partner. "So, Roy. Just wait till you hear this great idea I've got."

Roy, in the middle of getting some juice from the fridge, stopped and looked warily at his partner. "Uh huh."

"Don't be that way. You haven't even heard my idea yet." Johnny launched into his pitch. "You know Chili and I spend a lot of money sky diving, right? So how about we all pool our money and rent a plane for the day? You could fly it and Chili and I could get in more than just 1 or 2 jumps for our money and you get to…"

"No."

"…fly again and…Huh?"

"No." Roy repeated calmly as he finished his juice and took the glass over to the sink.

"No? No? Why not?"

Roy leveled a look at him. "Because it's your idea and your ideas are always trouble."

"What?" Johnny sputtered indignantly. "Name one idea I've had that's been trouble."

Roy leaned against the counter and held up a hand, counting off his points on each finger. "The time we went sailing, your idea. We capsized. The time we appeared on TV to give a safety demonstration, your idea, we looked like idiots. The time we worked the big football game at the stadium, a great place to see the game, you said. And what happened? We missed the whole thing. The time…."

"All right, all ready. Sheesh. I said 'one' thing."

Roy shrugged, walking over to the couch.

"Forget I said anything."

"All ready forgotten."

"Fine."

"Fine."

The two studiously ignored each other. Johnny reached over to pet Boot, the station's mascot, but the furry little pooch scooted away from him.

Roy watched the interplay with interest. "Come here, Boot," he called out and the dog quickly ran over to him. Roy picked him up and the little mutt began licking his face. Roy shot Johnny an amused look.

"Seems you've ticked off this dog, too."

"Oh, come on. Boot and I are friends, aren't we, little guy?" Johnny asked as he walked over to the dog. Boot pushed himself further into Roy's arms, growling softly. Johnny glared at him but before he could press the matter, Stanley came back into the room.

"Good. You two stay here." He stepped back out into the Engine bay. "Chet, Marco, Mike. Kitchen, front and center."

The three men hurried in, settling themselves onto chairs.

"What's up, Cap?" asked Chet, slightly worried, mentally going through anything that he had done lately that might have gotten him in trouble.

"Relax, Kelly. You're not in trouble…yet." Stanley added meaningfully.

Chet gave him his best wide-eyed innocent look. Stanley cleared his throat. Right. It was obvious the Phantom was about to make another appearance.

"I just got off the phone with the Chief. He wants me to brief everyone on the garage fires we've been getting the past couple of weeks."

"What about them?"

"Well, Mike, it looks like we've got a serial arsonist in our district. The M.O. at each of the scenes is the same. The perp splashes around gasoline, leaves a couple of containers of the stuff in the garage, and then sets it all on fire. We've been lucky so far. No one's been hurt but the last couple of fires have been pretty serious. Last night, Station 14 managed to contain the blaze before it took the house up with it. This guy is getting bolder and the arson investigator figure he's going to get bored with small fires and start setting bigger ones."

"I don't get it." Marco shook his head in disgust. "What makes someone a fire bug anyway?"

"Like we don't have enough work without having someone running around setting fires for kicks," Roy said, frustration coloring his voice.

"I hear you, Roy. The police and the investigators want us to keep our eyes open when we go on these calls. Most firebugs like to stick around to see their work. So, keep an eye on the crowds, see if the same person's popping up at the sites, and try to be careful about preserving the scene. You all know the drill."

"Unfortunately," muttered Mike. "Just when…"

He was interrupted by the sounds of the tones.

"SQUAD 51, MAN IN DISTRESS. 143 MIDHURST LANE. CROSS STREET - MOLLY. 143 MIDHURST LANE. TIME OUT 13:35."

All of the men had jumped at the first bell, but only Johnny and Roy continued out into the Engine bay. Roy grabbed the mic and keyed it. "Station 51, KMG 365". He finished scribbling the address down and hurried to the Squad.

"Hello? Fire department." Roy rapped against the door. Johnny tried looking through the door's side window. "Hello?"

"Hold on, I'm coming." A voice called out from behind the door. A second later, the door was unlocked and a young woman, dressed in shorts and a tank top stood glaring at them, squinting against the sun. She looked a little pale with dark circles under her eyes. "Well, hurry up. You're letting all the hot air in."

She stepped aside and ushered them in, slamming the door behind them. Johnny had to move quickly to get the oxygen tank out of harm's way.

Ignoring them, the woman moved back into the living room, and dropped down on to the couch in front of the coffee table where a fan was whirling away. The room was a disaster area, beer and wine bottles everywhere, food ground into the carpets, furniture tipped over, the overwhelming smell of stale cigarette smoke.

"Uh, m'am?" Roy looked around. "We got a call that there was a man in distress here?"

"Oh, that would be Harry. He's upstairs. He's got the attic bedroom." She waved a hand in the general direction of the stairs. "Man, I'm the one you should be looking at. I've got the hangover from hell happening here but do you hear me complain? Oh no. But Harry, the bookworm, he's always bitching about the parties we throw here. Party pooper." She eyed Johnny with a little smile. "Now you look like someone who knows how to party…"

Johnny blushed, trying to ignore Roy's grin. "What seems to be the problem with Harry?"

"Who knows. He was complaining he was feeling hot, like that's any big news. He's too cheap to buy a fan for his bedroom so like he expects me to give him mine. As if. I just share a house with him and the others from the university. I'm not his mother, man!"

Johnny stared at her dumbfounded. She was a very pretty woman, and especially cute in the shorts and tank top she wore, but he could only shake his head at her.

"We'll just go up, then."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Johnny and Roy exchanged glances, before hefting their equipment and starting up the steps. They made their way up to the third landing and knocked on the attic door.

"Hello? Harry?"

"In…in…here."

Roy pushed open the door, almost stepped back, gagging. The air was stifling, smelling of vomit and stale sweat.

The room had a slopping ceiling with only one window that appeared to be painted shut. It was sparsely furnished, a small, makeshift desk in one corner and a bed along one wall. The young man lying on the bed looked miserable.

"Hi, Harry. I'm Roy DeSoto and this is my partner John Gage." Roy took a deep breath as he made his way over to the bed. "I understand you're not feeling too well."

Harry shook his head weakly, moaning.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Roy began unrolling the BP cuff as Johnny started setting up the bio-phone.

"I don't know. Just really sick to my stomach. Head really hurts and dizzy."

"Did you have too much to drink last night?"

"No. Stayed here. Too sick." The words were slightly slurred.

Roy noticed the wastebasket beside the bed. "Have you been throwing up?"

"Uh huh."

Roy began to palpitate the boy's abdomen but stopped as Harry cried out weakly, moaning in pain.

"Okay, take it easy." Roy soothed. He pulled out a thermometer and placed it in Harry's mouth. "I'm going to take your temperature. Just relax, okay? We're going to take care of you."

Johnny looked up, pen poised over his notepad. "What are his vitals?"

Roy unhooked the BP cuff. "Pulse is 140, BP is 70/80. Abdomen is tender, with spasms but no rigidness. His skin is real dry and hot."

Johnny finished scribbling the vitals down and picked up the bio phone's receiver. "Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

"Loud and clear, 51," replied Doctor Kelly Brackett.

"Rampart, we have a male, about 19 years old…" He glanced at Harry, who nodded. "He's complaining of abdominal tenderness, vomiting, headache. Skin is hot and dry to the touch. His vitals are Pulse 140, BP 70/80, temperature…"

Roy pulled the thermometer out and held it up to read it. "104."

"Temperature is 104, Rampart. Victim seems to be severely dehydrated."

"10-4, 51. When did symptoms appear?"

Johnny held the receiver away as he looked over at Harry. The boy shifted restlessly on the bed, obviously having trouble concentrating on the conversation. "Um, last night. After dinner…"

Wiping at the sweat beading on his forehead with one hand, Johnny conveyed the information to Rampart.

"10-4, 51. We could be dealing with food poisoning. Administer D5W. Try and cool him down if you can and get him in here right away."

"10-4, Rampart. D5W and cool him down. I hear the ambulance pulling up outside. Our ETA should be about 15 minutes."

"We'll be waiting, 51."

"Okay, Harry. We're going to take you to the hospital now."

"No way." Harry struggled to sit up, looking around wildly. "I've got a physics paper due tomorrow. Gotta get it in..."

"Hey, take it easy," Johnny admonished gently, holding the young man down. "You're really sick here. You need to go to the hospital."

Roy held up the IV needle he was preparing. "Look Harry. We'll get your roommate to call the school and explain. I'm sure they'll give you an extension, right?"

"No, no. She's havin' a party. She'll be mad….oh god…"

Harry began gagging, swallowing convulsively.

"Whoa!" Roy jumped quickly, grabbing the wastebasket as Johnny helped Harry to sit up.

The poor guy heaved but there was nothing left in his system to expel. He fell back against the pillow, his face even paler. He reached a hand toward the ceiling, staring at something only he could see, and then, with a last shudder, passed out.

"Harry? Harry?" Johnny tapped his face. "He's out," he reported to his partner before reaching for the bio phone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51."

Roy slipped the oxygen mask on Harry's face just as the ambulance attendants came into the room, huffing a bit from the climb and the heat. "Hey, guys. We've got to get him to the hospital fast."

Johnny signed off with Rampart. He got up and headed for the doorway. "I'll get some wet towels. See if we can cool him down some."

Roy nodded and began packing up the equipment as the ambulance attendants settled the young man on to the gurney.

Nurse Dixie McCall stepped out Treatment Room One and headed over to the Nurse's reception desk. "Ashley, Doctor Brackett needs help in Two."

"Right away, Nurse McCall." The pretty blonde nurse smiled a good bye to Johnny and hurried down the hall.

"Hey Dix." Johnny stepped aside to let her in behind him.

"Hi Johnny. Where's your partner?"

"Gone to find something cold to drink."

"I'm not surprised. People have been asking me to switch the coffee pot for a water cooler."

Johnny groaned. "Not you too, Dix."

"What did I say?"

Roy arrived in time to hear the last part of their conversation. "Johnny here is getting tired of everyone complaining about the heat. Course, I keep telling him he's cold blooded so the heat doesn't bother him as much as the rest of us."

Dixie laughed, then coughed to cover it as Johnny flashed her a wounded look.

"It's just that everyone complains about the weather," Johnny tried to explain. "For the past two weeks, it was too cold, now we're having a heat wave, it's too hot. Next it'll be too rainy, then too dry. No one's ever happy."

"Okay, Susie Sunshine, I'll make sure that I don't make any reference to weather around you. Satisfied?"

"Works for me, Dix." Johnny finished with the supply inventory and handed the list over to Dixie. "How's that University kid we brought in earlier? Harry."

"Not too good, I'm afraid." Dixie sighed, as she signed off on the list. "His kidney's started to shut down so we've got him on dialysis. Hopefully it won't be permanent but all we can do is wait and see."

"What the heck happened? It's food poisoning, right?"

"Started out that way, but looks like his roommates didn't take him seriously last night so with the delay in getting treatment plus being in the extreme heat and all those fluids he lost when he was throwing up, well, it just escalated things."

Johnny angrily shoved his pen into his shirt pocket. "This kid could die because his roommates wanted to party?!"

Roy snagged the supplies from the desk, hefting them in his hands. "Guess when they get out from under mommy and daddy's thumb, some of these university kids tend to go a little wild."

"There's wild, and then there's being oblivious," muttered Johnny.

Roy patted his partner on the back. "Come on, Sunshine. Let's go."

The guys from 51's Engine, except for Stanley, were lounging in the break room, watching the news as the Squad pulled in. Johnny walked into the room, Roy a few steps behind him. The dark haired paramedic frowned as Boot quickly skirted out of his way.

"That's getting old, real quick, Boot," he muttered.

"Taking it kind of personal, aren't you, Johnny," Roy deadpanned as he stepped past his partner.

"Hey, guys. I made fresh lemonade," Mike called out to them. "It's in the fridge."

Johnny grinned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, quickly forgetting his momentary irritation. "Homemade lemonade! That's great, Mike."

He headed over to the fridge as Roy reached into the cupboard for two glasses.

Behind them, the news continued, the perky blond weather girl chatting with the veteran anchor. "Well, Mark, this spell of hot weather at this time of year isn't that unusual, though a bit hotter than some might like," She flashed a big, Pepsodent smile. "We're going through a period that is commonly referred to as Indian Summer."

Chet got up, moving toward Johnny. "Ah ha! It's your people's fault that it's so hot out there!"

Johnny just rolled his eyes. "It's not that hot, Kelly. Don't be such a wimp."

"A wimp?! Geeze, Gage. It's hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk!"

Johnny quirked an eyebrow at the others. "Hope you're not planning on making supper tonight."

"Oh, that's funny," Chet harrumphed. He rubbed his moustache thoughtfully. "You know, I was just talking to my cousin Carl and he said that he left a carton of eggs out on his kitchen counter for a couple of minutes and that the eggs cooked like they were hardboiled."

Johnny laughed out loud. "You're so gullible, Chet. I think the heat's scrambled your brains or hey, maybe it's all that stupid karaoking you've been doing lately."

"Oh yeah," Chet gave him a calculating look. "I'll prove it to you."

"This I've got to see."

Chet eyed him. "Care to put a little wager on it, Gage? Say…5 bucks?"

"You're on." Johnny rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Easy money."

"Okay, just to show you that everything's on the up and up, Marco here will grab an egg from the fridge and hold it for 2 minutes."

"Sounds fair."

Marco stepped over to the fridge, opened the door and looked down at the eggs sitting in the egg holder tray. He frowned for a moment before grabbing an egg sitting in the farthest corner. He held it up for everyone to see, then as one, they all turned to look at the clock over the doorway.

Roy shook his head as he sat at the kitchen table. "Too bad you didn't tell me about this little phenomenon this morning, Chet. I could have saved myself some clean up work when I made eggs for our breakfast."

Mike Stoker chuckled quietly and sat in another of the seats at the table. He wanted a good view of this one.

"Okay. Time." Chet announced. He looked at Marco. "Lob it over to us, Lopez."

"Whoa!" Johnny stepped away from Chet. "I changed my uniform once already today. I don't want to get egg all over this one."

"Oh, ye of little faith, Johnny," Chet ribbed him. "Just to show you how sure I am that the egg is cooked, I'm going to let Marco throw it at me."

"You sure, Chet? Johnny's right. It could make quite a mess."

Chet smirked, winking at Marco, though no one else saw the movement. Marco was playing his part perfectly. The stocky fire fighter turned to Johnny. "Another doubter? Hey, Johnny, what's say we up the bet? How about 10 bucks?"

Johnny looked from Chet, to Marco to the egg. He hesitated for a brief second before nodding his head. "Hell, I need the money this month. 10 bucks it is."

"Okay, Marco." Chet stood facing Lopez, arms outstretched, barrel chest puffed out. "Give me your best shot."

Marco shrugged, wound up and launched the egg at Chet.

SPLAT!!!

Egg yolk dripped down Chet's forehead, into his hair and moustache.

"You owe me ten smackers, Chet," Johnny crowed.

Chet, sputtering, swiped at the mess with his hands. "Marco, you idiot! You grabbed the wrong egg!!!"

Marco held his hands up. "Hey, you said the hard boiled one was on the left. I took the one on the left."

Roy was fighting hard not to laugh. "Um, guess I must have moved it this morning when I was making breakfast."

Chet glared at him as yolk began dripping off his nose.

Mike cleared his throat. "Guess that'll teach you not to "egg" Johnny on, huh Chet?"

"Maybe there's a song you can sing about this, huh?" Johnny grinned as he wiped a finger through the mess. "Gee Chet, you're right. Guess it really is as hot as everyone says. This egg is starting to fry."

Chet lunged at him but Johnny was already out of the room, his laughter echoing behind him.

"SQUAD 51, ENGINE 14. CHILD TRAPPED. JENSEN'S SAWMILL. OLD BRIAR'S ROAD. JENSEN'S SAWMILL ON OLD BRIAR'S ROAD. TIME OUT, 17:30."

Squad 51 was kicking up a fair bit of dust as it made its way down Old Briar's Road. Johnny coughed, quickly rolling up his window. Finally, he spotted a figure waving frantically at them. "Over there, Roy."

Roy wheeled the Squad over, pulling up beside the man.

"Man, am I glad you guys are here," the man began before their feet had even touched the ground. "You've got to get my son down. My wife's going to kill me. She's always saying it's too dangerous for him here but hey, I needed to get some paperwork and I was babysitting…."

"Okay, hold on there." Johnny placed a hand on the man's shoulder trying to calm him. "We're here to help, okay, Mr…?"

"Moore. Jim Moore."

"All right, Mr. Moore. Tell us what the problem is."

The man took a deep breath. "My son. He's only 3. I don't know how he did it…look, it'd be easier to show you. Follow me."

Engine 14 rolled up just as the two were about to follow the distraught man. Captain Frank Carroll hurried over to join them. "What do we have, boys?"

"Not sure yet, Cap." Roy replied. "Something to do with his 3 year old son. We're just going to check it out now."

"Okay. We're right behind you." Carroll motioned for Paul Chilibeck and Peter Volden to join them, while Engineer Bianci stayed with the truck.

The group hurried through the sawmill's main area, skirting the tall stacks of timber. "I don't know how he got up there," Jim Moore spoke rapidly, stress and worry clear in his voice. "My wife's going to kill me."

Johnny looked around uneasily at the stacks of timber. "Ah, just where is your son, sir?"

Jim stopped, and with a trembling hand, pointed to a mound of lumber stacked haphazardly in front of them. "We haven't had time to even bundle that stack properly. It's real unstable. I tried climbing up to get him but the whole thing's liable to shift and fall…."

Chili stepped up beside Johnny as the men all stared up at the stack of wood. There, perched at the very top, sat a grubby, little blond haired boy, grinning. He waved at them.

"Daddy! Fire truck!"

"Oh boy." Roy checked the stack. "Mr. Moore's right. If we try climbing this stuff, it's going to all come crashing down. Even with someone as skinny as Johnny," he added, as his partner began to say something. Johnny shot him a disgusted look but couldn't argue with the logic in Roy's assessment of the situation.

"Wanna see fire truck," the little boy decided, and started to shift forward. One of the logs beneath him rolled, sliding forward a couple of feet.

"NO!!! STAY THERE!!!"

"DON'T MOVE, SHELDON!!!!"

"STAY STILL!!!"

Sheldon froze, looking down at the shouting men. His lips started to quiver. Why was everyone so mad at him?

Chili quickly shushed the guys around him. "We're gonna scare him if we all yell. Just let his father talk to him."

Captain Carroll nodded at the father. "Sir, we need you to keep him from moving while we work on getting him down, okay?

"Oh my god." Jim Moore was shaking with fear now. "I can't….I don't know what to say."

"You don't have the luxury here of freaking out, okay?" Chili stepped up to the man, his words sharp, but the hand he laid on the distraught father's arm was gentle. "Your kid up there needs you, so pull yourself together. He'll listen to you."

Chili's words did the trick though and Jim nodded.

"You're right. I can do this." He stepped away from the shadows of the lumber stack and called up to his son. "Hey, Sheldon. Daddy wants you to sit right there until we come get you, okay?"

"I wanna go home."

"Yeah, me too, son. How about I make you a promise. You sit still for daddy and when we get home, I'll get mommy to make a great big batch of chocolate pudding."

"Puddin'?" The little boy considered that for a moment. "Okay daddy. I wait here."

"Good, baby. Good. Daddy's gonna stay right here too."

Captain Carroll motioned the fire fighters off to the side. "Nice save, Chili," he said, nodding at the dark haired fire fighter. "I don't mind saying this is a messy one, guys. I'm open to suggestions here."

Roy looked back up at the stack. "We can't use the ladder truck. There's no way it'll be able to maneuver into place back here."

"Yeah," Carroll agreed. "We're going to have to come up with something else fast though. I don't think a three year old is going to sit still for very long."

They all turned to look back at the kid who was totally oblivious to the danger he was in.

"Okay, what do we have?" Johnny said, going over their options. "We can't climb up there and there's nothing that we can lean a ladder against…."

His voice trailed away as he took in the surrounding area. A few yards behind the stack of lumber was a cone shaped sawmill, with a window at the top. He pivoted, looking the other way. Another building, this one a four story with windows all along the wall. Chili followed his line of sight.

"You think…?"

"It's worth a shot."

Chili was nodding his head. "One at each end…"

"Yeah, in case he moves…" Johnny agreed, staring up at the woodpile.

"What?" Roy demanded, looking from one to the other. "What?"

Johnny turned to Captain Carroll. "Cap, what if we create a pulley between the two buildings. Then we could work our way out to the kid and grab him."

Carroll accessed the distance between the two sites. "That's quite a ways, Gage." He considered for a moment longer. "But I don't see any other way. Okay, let's use two sets of lines with a man on each end."

"I'll go." Johnny said.

"Me too." Chili jumped in quickly.

Carroll gave the two men a measuring look, nodded his head. "Yeah. That makes sense. You're the lightest guys here."

"Which is a surprise with all that food of my mom's you eat," Chili grinned at Johnny.

"Like you should talk," Johnny retorted.

Captain Carroll shook his head as he surveyed the two men. "Save it, men. Go get your gear. I'm going to explain it to the father."

The crews, working with practiced smoothness, quickly had things in place. Half the team headed over to the cone shaped sawmill, while the other half made their way to the top floor of the four-story building.

Roy braced himself against the windowsill, and aiming carefully, shot the rope across the yard and into the window of the sawmill. Volden grabbed it and proceeded to tie it off, while Bianci, standing beside him, carefully lined up his own shot and sent his rope spiraling across the yard and through the window where Roy was waiting. That rope was quickly tied off as well.

Roy turned to look at his partner who was finishing tying the safety harness around his waist. "You ready?"

"Let's do it," Johnny said, stepping over to the window. He looked over at the little boy on top of the woodpile. Sheldon was obviously growing tired. He was lying on his side, looking down at his father, thumb in his mouth.

Roy clicked his Handy Talkie. "We're set over here, Cap."

"10-4, Roy. We're set here too."

Roy helped Johnny snag the belt's hook over one of the ropes. Johnny perched on the edge of the windowsill, then, with a quick smile to his partner, dropped over and began making his way across the ropes. From the opposite direction, Chili began making his way as well.

Little Sheldon Moore suddenly sat up, pointing at Johnny. "Daddy, fire man!"

Johnny froze for a moment, watching with bated breath as the little boy rocked for a moment, before settling down. Taking a deep breath, he continued working his way across the rope, hand over hand. He began talking to the little boy. "Hey, Sheldon. My name's Johnny. And you're right. I'm a fireman. You like firemen?"

"Uh huh. Truck makes noise."

Johnny laughed, looking up briefly to see how far away Chili was. The man was a few feet farther from the boy than Johnny. "You like sirens, huh?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically. Suddenly, a log next to him shifted and rolled to the edge of the pile, plummeting to the ground. Sheldon looked up at Johnny with wide eyes. "I don't like it here. Wanna go home."

"In just a minute, Sheldon, okay?"

"Wanna go NOW!!" With that, the little boy, bored, tired and hungry, stood up and began to move across the logs.

"Damn!" yelled Chili as logs began to roll. Both he and Johnny lunged at the same moment, each catching the little guy by an arm just as he started to slip over the edge. Below them, the stack collapsed, sending logs careening through the air.

An eerie silence filled the air after the cacophony of sound. On the ground, Captain Carroll helped Jim Moore to his feet. His flying tackle of the man had gotten them both out of harm's way. Both looked up quickly, breath caught in their throats as they watched Johnny and Chili, the little boy dangling between them.

"Johnny? Chili? You okay?" shouted Roy, watching helplessly from the window.

"Yeah, yeah." Johnny called back. He looked over at Chili. "If I hang onto him, can you get a belt around him?"

"Yeah," Chili waited till he was sure that Johnny had the crying boy firmly in his grip before letting go and reaching for the spare belt he had hooked to his own. Speaking gently, he began talking to the boy as he worked the belt around his waist. "Hey, Sheldon, wanna hear the siren on the truck when we get down?"

The little boy pressed his face closer to Johnny's shoulder as he nodded.

Chili finished strapping the harness in place, then quickly attached it to Johnny's belt. "Well, then, why don't we make like bees and buzz out of this place, okay?"

Johnny shot him a look as he adjusted the boy in his arms. "You just HAD to mention bees, huh, Chili?"

Chili just flashed him a smile and began pacing himself to Johnny's speed, keeping a ready hand in case it was needed, as they made their way across the ropes towards Roy.

An eternity later, or so it seemed to the men watching, they made it to the window and Roy pulled the young boy through quickly, then moved back to give Johnny and Chili room to climb back in through the window.

Roy finished doing a check on Sheldon just as his father burst into the room. "Sheldon!" He scooped his son up in his arms, hugging him for dear life.

"He's fine, Mr. Moore. Just a little tired and hungry," Roy reassured him.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Jim repeated, holding his son close as he followed the fire fighters out of the building.

Johnny and Chili stopped beside the Squad and watched as Engineer Phil Bianci showed Sheldon the truck, giving the siren a quick blast, much to the child's delight. His father seemed just as excited by it.

Johnny and Chili exchanged looks. Johnny held out his palm, and Chili tapped his fist into it. A good rescue.

Roy shook his head as came up beside them. "What is it with you two? You're always managing to do some arial stunt of some sort. "

"Well, Roy," Chili teased. "If you'd just rent a plane with us, we could do the skydiving thing and forget about doing this acrobatic stuff."

"Nice try, Chili," Roy shook his head with mock disgust. "You've been hanging around Johnny too long. You're starting to pick up his warped logic on things."

Johnny got up from the dinner table, and stepped right into Boot's water dish. "Damn! Boot, you stupid mutt. What'd you put your dish by my chair for?"

The dog in question just stared at the paramedic before giving a short bark and scooting out of the room.

Johnny threw his hands up in disgust. "What's going on? It's like dogs are ganging up on me or something lately."

Chet cleared his throat, and began singing softly, "How much is that doggy in the window? Arf! Arf!"

"Oh no, don't do this to me, Chet."

"The one with the waggly tail…"

"Chet!"

Johnny turned to the others, looking for help, but Roy quickly disappeared out the kitchen door into the Engine Bay, and Marco and Mike were splitting a gut laughing. Chet waved his arms, conducting himself to music only he could hear.

"ARF! ARF!!"

"Argh!!" Johnny turned and stalked out the room, hurrying to catch up with his partner who was heading into the locker room. "Oh, man!" he complained. "What a nightmare. Chet as the singing fireman. I can't believe he actually sang that song."

"Why not? Jennifer likes it."

"Yeah, but your daughter is only 8, Roy. She likes everything."

"True," Roy agreed, as he turned on the sink's tap and splashed some cold water on his face. "She likes you."

"Gee, thanks," Johnny grumped as he sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He ran a hand through his hair. "Come on, Roy. Help me out here. Dogs usually like me. So, what's going on? Did they all hear about that mutt I chased away from the fire this morning, or what?"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Only my partner would think there was a doggy conspiracy against him."

"I'm serious here, Roy. Dogs usually like me. I mean, I'm a likable guy, aren't I?"

Roy grabbed some paper towels and began drying his hands and face. "I guess."

Johnny sputtered to a stop. "You guess???"

Roy looked up at him, shrugged. "Well, you're not really my type."

Grinning at the look on Johnny's face, Roy crumpled the paper in his hands, tossed it into the trash and strolled from the room, whistling.

It took Johnny a moment to recognize the tune.

"How much is that doggie in the window? The one with the waggly tail…."

"ROY!!!!"

###

"STATION 51. MAN INJURED. 2234 CORAL BLVD. CROSS STREET CORAL POTTER AVENUE. 2234 CORAL BLVD. TIME OUT 18:57."

"You guys wait here till we see what's up," Captain Stanley instructed the men on the Engine.

"Right, Cap." Chet settled back into his seat, fanning his face with his helmet.

Stanley quickly joined Roy and Johnny who were knocking on the front door. "Hello? Fire Department. Anybody home?"

No answer.

Looking around, Johnny spotted the mailbox with the homeowner's name written on it. Gordon Knapp. "Mr. Knapp? It's the fire department."

A faint sound of something crashing to the floor echoed for a moment, then nothing. Roy rattled the doorknob but it didn't turn.

Stanley began moving off the porch. "Roy, let's check the windows. Johnny, see if the back door's unlocked."

Johnny took off for the left side of the house while Roy and Stanley went the other way.

"Hello? Anyone home?" Roy peered through the living room window.

"Do you see anybody?" asked Stanley, moving down to another window.

"Noooo… Wait! Hey, Cap, come look at this."

Stanley made his way back to Roy. "What?"

"There. See that on the floor. Looks like blood."

"H'oh boy." The Captain grimaced as he tried to see farther in the room. The trail of blood seemed to start at the couch, smearing across the floor before disappearing around a corner. Chairs and tables were scattered throughout the room as well. "What the hell happened in there?"

"Hey, guys!" yelled Johnny from the backyard. "The back door's wide open here."

"Wait up, Gage," Stanley shouted but by the time he and Roy made it to the back door, Johnny was already through the kitchen and into the dinning room.

"Mr. Knapp?"

"Here," a weak voice called out. "Is it gone?"

Johnny turned quickly in the direction of the voice and was stunned at the sight that greeted him. The 50ish year old victim was crouched behind a chair, his left hand clamped over what was left of his right forearm. A telephone lay beside him on the floor, but was no longer in working order. The wire attaching it to the wall had been severed. "Cap, we need an ambulance here!" Johnny shouted as he rushed over to the man.

Stanley stopped to make the call on the H.T. as Roy made his way to the dining room door. He paused as he heard a strange scratching sound, eyes scanning the room before he froze. What the hell? Staring back at him was the biggest crocodile he had ever seen. The massive tail twitched, as the lumbering reptile skittered across the floor towards him. Roy stumbled backwards, falling against the Captain.

"Whoa, easy Roy." Stanley held a steady hand against the paramedic. "What's the matter?"

"Roy?" Johnny, his back to the scene as he concentrated intently on the victim, hadn't noticed anything yet. "I could really use your help in here. He's losing blood like crazy."

"Ah, Johnny…."

Mr. Knapp, facing the doorway, moaned suddenly, closing his eyes. "No, not again. I can't…"

"Easy there, Mr. Knapp. We're going to take care of you. Just take it easy. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Johnny, look out!" Roy yelled, starting into the room only to have to jump back out again to escape the deadly tail.

"Huh…?" Johnny finally turned, keeping his hands wrapped tightly around Knapp's forearm. He stared in numb shock at the crocodile as it snapped its massive jaws while it moved towards him.

"What the devil….?" Moving quickly, he grabbed Knapp and scuttled backwards away from the beast, kicking the chair that had been lying in front of the victim at it. Johnny only stopped moving when his back hit the wall. He wedged the two of them into the corner, pulling another chair in front of them.

The beast lay there, watching them. Johnny stared into its eyes, shuddering at the darkness in them.

Beside him, Knapp moaned, his breath coming in quick gasps, his arm bleeding freely once again. In a flash, Johnny wrapped his hands around the wound once again as he kept a wary eye on the reptile.

Roy and Stanley watched helplessly from the doorway. Right now, the crocodile blocked their entrance. Any move on their part and it would start snapping its jaws and swinging its lethal tail. It was too close to Johnny and the victim for them to risk antagonizing it.

Stanley wasted no time contacting dispatch and requesting animal control and the police.

"Johnny, you okay?"

Johnny glanced up at Roy from across the room, before finding his eyes drawn to the soulless eyes he found staring up at him. "Yeah, but we've got to get Mr. Knapp here to the hospital. He's bleeding real bad."

At the sound of Johnny's voice, the crocodile moved forward a couple of feet. His massive tail swung, hitting the hutch standing against the wall. Dishes and knick-knacks tumbled form the shelf, raining down on Johnny and the older man. The paramedic wrapped himself around the victim, as the debris bounced off of him.

At the chaos, Roy started forward only to be pulled back by Stanley. "No way, Pal."

"Cap," Roy tried to shake off the hand restraining him for a moment before conceding the point. "We can't wait for animal control or the police. They won't make it here in time."

"I know but running in there without a plan isn't going to help anyone either. We don't need another victim here."

"Hey, Cap. What's going on?" Chet stepped into the kitchen, Marco behind him. "We heard the call on the radio…." Chet's voice faded away as he took in the scene.

Behind him, Marco did a double take. Damn, it really was a crocodile!

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"Ssshh." Roy gestured to everyone to keep quiet. He continued, whispering, "Noise seems to agitate him. If we keep quiet maybe he'll keep quiet."

They turned to stare at the croc, now flicking his tail back and forth across the floor, watching Johnny. The paramedic was working his belt off, keeping his movements slow and even as he kept an eye on the creature. Finally, once the belt was off, he looked away to wrap it around Knapp's arm.

It seemed to be what the crocodile had been waiting for. It suddenly lunged at Johnny.

"Johnny!"

"Gage!!"

Johnny whirled, grabbed the chair lying in front of him and quickly shoved it at the crocodile. It stopped in its tracks, backed away a few feet, before it resumed watching Johnny's every move.

Taking a deep breath, and making sure to keep eye contact, Johnny continued tightening the belt he had put around Knapp's arm. The man was shocky from blood loss, his skin clammy and cold. They needed to get him to the hospital now. He risked a quick glance at his partner.

Roy, watching helplessly from the doorway, looked around the room again. He spied a closet with a partially open door. He pointed to it, whispering to the men around him, "Cap, what if we could maneuver that thing into the closet?"

Chet jumped in eagerly. "What about if we use the grappling hook? We can stand far enough back while we poke at it to get it to go where we want."

The Captain shook his head.

"Too dangerous, Chet," Stanley decided. "That thing is huge. We'll just make it even madder messing with it like that."

"What about if we hit it with a full charge from the hose?" offered Marco. "That should blast it back enough for us to get them out."

Cap considered the idea for a moment, before nodding. "That could work. Yeah. Okay, Chet, Marco, let's move."

The men left quickly. Roy continued standing by the door, watching his partner. Suddenly the crocodile was moving again. Johnny reached for the chair again, but his hands, slick with Knapp's blood, slipped on the legs. Fumbling, panicking as he saw those massive jaws stretch before him, Johnny struggled to get a grip on the chair.

Thump!

The croc reared away, tail sweeping furiously, knocking a chair over behind it, as it retreated a few feet. A can of brown beans rolled across the floor.

Johnny stared at the can, blinking. He looked up at his partner and flashed a wan smile. Roy hefted another can in his hands, watching, waiting. He didn't want to rile the beast anymore than it already was but he couldn't just stand there and watch it attack his partner.

Stanley, Marco and Chet hurried back into the room, dragging the hose. The captain positioned himself beside Roy, Handy Talkie in hand, as Marco and Chet braced themselves, aiming the hose into the dining room.

"All right Roy, get ready to move in when it goes. No telling how long we'll have."

Roy nodded. Stanley clicked the Handy Talkie. "Okay, Mike. Let 'er rip. Now!"

A second later, the hose began to fill. On Stanley's signal, Chet, manning the nozzle, opened it. The water shot forward, like a cannon ball. The blast hit the side of the crocodile, sending him flying across the floor against the far wall. It twisted desperately, but the force of the water kept it pinned.

Without wasting a moment, Stanley and Roy were in the room, reaching for Johnny and the victim. The two men grabbed Knapp, now only semi conscious and with Johnny stumbling behind them, made it out of the room, through the kitchen and out the back door in almost a single movement.

Once their comrades were safe, Chet shut down the nozzle, and he and Marco pulled out of the kitchen, slamming the back door closed behind them.

On the grass, Roy and Johnny were already working on the victim, contacting Rampart.

Stoker came running around the corner, the ambulance crew behind him. "Did it work?"

"Yeah, Mike," Chet said, panting as though he'd just run a marathon. "Always said that in a tight situation I'd want you manning the controls."

Nurse Dixie McCall looked up as Doctor Brackett and Johnny, sporting a bandage on the left side of his forehead and on his left wrist, walked out of Treatment Room 3 and headed over to the nurse's station. Without saying a word, she handed the paramedic a cup of coffee.

Johnny flashed her an appreciative grin. "Thanks, Dix. Just what the doctor ordered."

"Speaking of the doctor…" Brackett coughed slightly, looking expectantly at Dixie. "How about a coffee for this hard working one?"

"Sure, help yourself," Dix said, pointing to the coffeepot on the counter behind her, pointedly ignoring the look on Brackett's face. She turned back to Johnny, eyes reflecting her concern. "So, quite the rescue from what Roy was telling me. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just a couple of scrapes and bruises." Johnny absently rubbed the bandage on his forehead. "How's Mr. Knapp doing?"

Dix nodded toward the phone on the desk. "I thought you'd want to know so I called upstairs. The vascular surgeon is still working on him."

"Man," Johnny shook his head, leaning tiredly against the desk. "Can you imagine, you're in your own home and something like that happens?"

"What exactly did happen?" Dix asked.

"I can answer that one," offered Officer Vince Howard as he and Roy walked up to the group.

"You okay, Johnny?" Roy asked, taking in the bandages on his partner.

"Yeah, it's nothing," Johnny assured him. He turned back to the police officer. "So?"

Vince scratched at his chin, shaking his head. "Well, it seems that Gordon Knapp's neighbor, a Mr. Jamieson, is into exotic pets."

Dixie frowned. "I thought it was illegal to have exotic animals, especially in the city."

"It is," Vince assured her. "And Jamieson is facing some charges and mighty hefty fines. And if it hadn't been for you guys," a nod at Johnny and Roy, "He could well have been facing murder charges."

"Man." Johnny shook his head.

"Anyway, seems that somehow the crocodile escaped from its pen today and wandered in through Knapp's back door. Guess he left it open to let in some cool breezes." Vince paused, wiping some sweat from his forehead. "Could use a bit of that myself, actually."

"Here," Dixie handed him a cup of coffee. "This'll help."

"No offense, Dix, but hot liquids are the last thing I want right now."

"I know, but drinking something hot will actually help bring your body temperature down. You'll feel cooler."

Vince quirked a questioning eyebrow at Brackett.

The doctor nodded as he finished his own drink and put the cup on the counter. "In all the hot climates, they drink tea or coffee when they're outside, not cold drinks."

"Hmph, what do you know…" Vince accepted the coffee and took a tentative sip. "So, back to the croc story. Seems Knapp decided to take a….well, nap," rueful grin "and woke to find the crocodile gnawing at his arm."

"He was lucky though," Roy added. "He managed to get away from it long enough to call for help before the thing ripped through the phone line."

"Yeah, lucky," Johnny snorted. "If you can call falling asleep in your own home and waking up to find your arm missing and a monster waiting to finish the rest of you off, lucky."

Brackett patted Johnny on the arm. "Yes, lucky, Johnny. If it wasn't for your quick action in stopping the blood flow and the rest of your crew in getting Mr. Knapp out of there, he'd be a lot worse off than just missing an arm. Tell the rest of the guys, good job from us."

"Thanks, Doc." Roy picked up the Handy Talkie from the desk. "Come on, Johnny. See you guys later."

"Nothing personal, Roy," Dixie said, smiling. "But hopefully not for the rest of this shift, okay?"

"We'll see what we can do," the blond paramedic offered. With a nod at Vince, he steered his subdued partner down the hall.

Station 51's crew was uncharacteristically quiet that evening. They watched the Adam-12 rerun without the usual comments and chores had been completed without prompting. Captain Stanley sighed as he got up from his chair, surveying his men. The close call with the crocodile was obviously playing on their minds. "All right, men, why don't we try getting some shut eye while we can?"

"Yeah, before we get called out on another garage fire," agreed Marco, rapping three times on the wooden leg of his chair.

Everyone got up, except for Chet who remained seated on the couch, Boots lounging on his lap.

Johnny looked back at him. "You coming, Chet?"

Chet looked up, a gleam in his eyes. The others stopped, waiting expectantly. They knew that look.

"Hmm," A wicked grin, "in a while, crocodile."

"Oh man," groaned Marco.

"I'm surprised you waited this long to use that one," Roy said, shaking his head, laughing.

"Well, timing is everything," Chet said modestly as he got up. He patted Boot on the head. "See ya later Alligator."

"I don't now. That's pretty weak for the phantom," Marco decided.

Chet looked undaunted at the criticism. Standing up, he dramatically cleared his throat.

Roy exchanged an amused glance with Stanley. This was going to be another patented Chet serenade.

And Chet didn't disappoint as he broke into Elton John's Crocodile Rock. Course, he had to move fast and still keep his own version of the beat while ducking the pillows that came flying his way.

Stanley turned away, hiding his smile. He could always count on Chester B. Kelly to provide the comedy relief when the tension of the job started to get to his men. Of course, the same Chester B. was responsible for creating a lot of said tension. Grinning, he headed for his bunk.

"Was it bigger than Buster, Uncle Johnny?" asked Michael, his blue eyes, so much like his uncle Chili's, growing wide as he waited for Johnny to answer.

"Hmmm…" Johnny eyed the sheep dog currently wrestling with a bone in the far corner of the yard. "Definitely bigger than Buster."

"Was it bigger than you?"

"Johnny was just a toothpick next to the thing, weren't you, Uncle Johnny?" asked Chili, eyes twinkling as he teased.

"If I'm a toothpick you would have just been a splinter," Johnny retorted.

"What a…croc!" Chili smirked, winking at his little nephew.

Johnny punched Chili's arm before answering the little boy's question. "I'd say the crocodile was about Kamikazie's size." He pointed to Steve "Kamikazie" Kaliciak, who was sitting next to them. Johnny and Chili had met the Search and Rescue man during the search effort that had been put together when the two fire fighters along with Chet and Roy, had been lost at sea a few months earlier.

Michael stared at the big mountain of a man sitting in front of him. "Wow! Wait till I tell the others!" He ran off, hands waving excitedly as he called his cousins over.

Chili watched him go, shaking his head. "You know, Laura's going to kill you if he get nightmares over this."

"Nah," Johnny grinned. "Your sister loves me."

"Yeah, well don't forget. She thinks of you as just another brother and let me tell you from experience, she packs quite a punch!"

Johnny and Kamikazie both laughed, looking over at the sister in question, a petite brunette with the trade mark Chilibeck curly hair and blue eyes.

"Don't let her looks fool you," Chili warned darkly but his attempt at being serious was ruined by the smile on his face.

"Does the same go for your sister Teresa?" asked Kaliciak, a little too casually. Chili and Johnny exchanged a glance. They had noticed the Search and Rescue man watching the youngest sister throughout the afternoon.

"Er, no, not at all. Reece's a real sweetie. Right, Johnny?"

Johnny cleared his throat, remembering how Teresa had managed to put him in his place a time or ten. "Yeah, yeah, a real sweetie."

Kaliciak nodded, smiling. A good thing to know.

"You know, Kamikazie, I could have really used you on that crocodile rescue the other day."

"Why's that, mate?" the man asked.

"Well, you're from Australia, right? So you must know something about crocodiles."

Kaliciak, in the middle of taking a drink of beer, snorted some through his nose at the comment. "What? You think I wrestled crocs on Saturday afternoons or something?"

"Well, no," Johnny grinned sheepishly. "But hell, at least with your size you could have just sat on the damn thing and kept it out of the way."

"Gee, thanks. I think."

Chili's father, Police Chief Sam Chilibeck chose that moment to step over to the trio. "So, did you get enough to eat, boys?"

Chili just looked at him. "Dad, with Mama around, it's lucky that we're still able to breathe, let alone have room for beer!"

"Good. Good. It makes your mama happy when everyone eats." Sam smiled at Kaliciak, who was munching away on yet another plate of barbecue ribs. "And you, my friend, make her VERY happy."

Kaliciak blushed, which set off Johnny and Chili. The big man just glared at them as he continued eating.

Sam patted the young man's shoulder. "Don't mind them, son. They tend to act their shoe size at times."

"Guess that makes me the older one, huh, Johnny?" Chili smirked, not quite ducking fast enough to miss the hand his father aimed at the back of his head. "Ouch!"

"Behave yourself," Sam admonished, though his blue eyes twinkled as he winked at Johnny. He tugged at the tie around his neck, sweat already trickling down his forehead from the afternoon heat.

"Um, Dad, aren't you a little overdressed for a barbecue?"

"Yeah," agreed Johnny. "Thought maybe I didn't get the invitation that this was a formal affair."

The elder Chilibeck laughed, shaking his head in amusement at the teasing. "So says my son and his friend who think the height of fashion is wearing a pair of jeans with a matching jean shirt, hmmm."

Johnny and Chili turned to each other, with mock puzzled looks on their faces. Kaliciak just continued munching on a rib, ignoring them. He knew better than to get in the middle of one of these discussions. He had seen various members of the Chilibeck clan and Johnny rag on each other for hours…entertaining to watch but hazardous to ones health to get in the middle of if you couldn't think fast on your feet. Besides, it was more interesting to watch Teresa Chilibeck playing horseshoes with her older brothers at the moment.

Suddenly though he was brought back to the conversation beside him.

"…the police and fire departments have put together a task force on these arson fires." Sam sighed. "Of course, they decided that Saturday afternoon was a perfect time for a meeting."

"Oh man, I wish I could be in on catching this nutcase. It's bad enough to have him running around, but man, he's operating in our neighborhood," Chili said, bouncing his leg against his chair, his whole body vibrating with pent up frustration.

"Now, Paully. You know better."

"Yeah, dad." Chili made a face. " You can't make it personal. That just takes you out of the game."

"Right." Sam laid a reassuring hand on Chili's shoulder. "and right now, you just need to concentrate on putting out the fires without you or anyone else getting hurt, okay?"

"I hear you," Chili sighed, reaching for his beer. "It's just this guy's out of control. We've been profiling arsonist in the night class I'm taking and he just doesn't fit the mold. And that makes him more dangerous."

"There's always a pattern, son," Sam reminded him. "We just don't see it yet."

"I guess."

"Now, now," Mama Chili admonished as she joined the group. "Why the long faces? Paully, you know the rule."

Chili gave her a sheepish smile. "Yeah, Mama. No shop talk during family time."

"That's right." Mama patted his face, as she turned to give Johnny a significant look. "And you know better too, young man."

"Hey," Johnny held up his hands, giving her an innocent look. "Don't look at me. I was just sitting here. Chili was the one doing all the talking, right, Kamikaze?"

Kaliciak looked from Johnny, to Chili, then Mama Chili. He wasn't a stupid man. He just crammed another rib into his mouth and deftly changed the subject. "Mmm, these ribs are fabulous. Have you ever thought of opening a restaurant?"

"Oh, get away with you," Mama Chili scolded, a big smile on her face. She turned to Johnny, hands on hips. "Why aren't you eating like your friend here. You're too skinny. Skinny, skinny, skinny. How do you expect to find a nice girl if you look like you'll blow away in a breeze."

Now it was Johnny's turn to blush as Chili and Kamikazie snickered.

Mama Chili turned to her husband, reaching up to adjust his tie. "And you, my dear, need to get going. You're going to be late."

"Mmmm," Sam smiled as he watched his wife, the little dynamo. The tall, lanky man leaned over and wrapped an arm around her waist. "You're right. The sooner I go, the sooner I'll get back. Being cooped up in an office on a day like today is definitely not my idea of a good time." As he and his wife started to walk away, he looked back at the three men. "You boys enjoy yourselves this afternoon. Time enough to worry about work later."

A silence fell over the group as they sat there contemplating their own thoughts. Kaliciak finally roused himself. "I think I need to work off a bit of this food," he said, feigning nonchalance, as he stood up. "A good game of horseshoes might bet just the ticket. How about it, mates?"

Chili smothered a smile behind a hand as he looked over at Johnny. "Nah, you go ahead, Kamikazie. We're just going to sit here and let things digest for awhile."

"Oh. Well, ah, maybe I can get one of your brothers to take me on."

"Right." Chili nodded thoughtfully. "Just a friendly word of advice here, Kamikazie." The big man stopped, looking apprehensive for a moment. Chili grinned. "Watch out for Reece's over the shoulder shot. She keeps trying to make that one but it always goes wild. You might want to wear some um, protection, you know?" He gestured at a certain part of his anatomy.

Kaliciak looked over at Teresa, then back at Chili, hesitating ever so briefly before slowly making his way over to the game. He made sure to keep a safe distance from the young lady as she wound her arm back to pitch a horseshoe.

"You're bad, Chili."

Chili gave his friend a shrug. "Hey, if he can't stand the heat, he shouldn't be cooking in the Chilibeck kitchen."

"Thank god I never put the moves on any of your sisters. I don't think I would have survived you and your brothers."

"Got that one right," Chili agreed with a sly grin. "Speaking of which, you and your date of the week are still on for double dating tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Johnny nodded, again tipping back in his chair. "And man, with the week I've been having, I'm looking forward to just having a fun evening. Just promise me, no dogs where we're going, okay?"

Chili snapped his fingers. "Oh damn, and here I was planning on the four of us going to the pound!"

"Hmm, considering some of the dates you've had, Chili…."

"Oh, low blow, Gage!" Chili retorted. He dropped his head back against the chair, looking up at the sky. "You're the one who thinks there's a doggie telegraph out there, buddy."

"Scoff if you want but there's something very weird going on here with me and dogs. And what's so hard to believe about dogs communicating with each other? They've already proven that they can sense earthquakes before they happen. Who's to say they can't talk to each other?"

Chili, usually more than happy to get into a wacky discussion with his friend, just snorted, distracted as he watched a Cessna airplane fly by overhead. "Man, I really wish we could have talked DeSoto into renting a plane with us."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Johnny mocked, as he tilted even further back in his chair, hands stretched across his stomach, the picture of contentment. "Just give me a little more time to work on him. Roy always ends up doing what I want. I just have to bug him enough."

"Ah, the old, 'I'll do it just to shut Gage up' ploy."

"Yup. Works every time."

"Buster! Come back here!"

Chili turned at the sound of his nephew's shout. Buster, the large sheepdog belonging to his brother Nick, was barreling across the yard, attention focused on something that no one else could see. Chili sat up straighter as he realized the dog was heading straight towards Johnny.

"Uh, Johnny…." Chili began but before Johnny could even react, the dog was upon them and with a woof, bounded up, on and over Johnny who went flying backwards chair and all, landing on the ground with a thump.

Buster stood over the prone man, panting in his face then, with a final swish of his tail, headed over to one of the large trees in the yard and flopped under it, tongue lolling.

Silence filled the yard as everyone froze, turning to look at Johnny, who lay unmoving on the ground.

"Oh dear." Mama Chili came bustling through the group, wiping her hands on her apron. "Nicky, go tie up the dog. Paully, is Johnny okay?"

Chili was already out of his chair, and kneeling beside his friend as his family. "Johnny? You with me?"

A timeless moment later, Johnny opened one brown eye to glare up at his friend. "Do me a favor, man."

"Anything, buddy. What?"

Johnny let out a long breath. "Just don't start singing 'You ain't nothing but a hound dog', okay?"

"….can't believe, in this heat, we had to treat someone for frostbite," Johnny grumbled as he followed Roy from the Engine Bay into the darkened dorm room.

Roy chuckled quietly, as they walked through the darkened dorm room. They had been called out on a run just as everyone had been getting ready for bed. It looked like their co-workers had managed to get in an hour of sack time without being toned out.

Johnny dropped his voice to a whisper as he and Roy reached their bunks and began getting ready for bed. "That guy must have had to go to a lot of stores to get enough ice to fill that bathtub."

"And then he falls asleep in it," Roy said, shivering momentarily in spite of the heat in the room. "Brrrr…."

"We get 'em all in this job, huh?" Johnny busied himself setting up his turnout gear beside his bunk. "Wonder what's next?"

"Ssssh!" came a disgruntled hiss from the far side of the room.

"Sorry," Roy called out as he pulled back the covers on his bunk, but after a moment, decided against it and stretched out on top of them instead. The room was uncomfortably warm still.

"Oh, for Pete sake!"

Roy shot up, looking over at his partner, who was glaring at something at the head of his bed.

"Will you guys SHUT UP!" Captain Stanley demanded from his bunk. "We're sleeping here….or at least we were."

"Sorry, Cap," Johnny answered as he reached down to pick up the object of his consternation - a big, stuffed dog. "Funny, Chet. Real funny."

"Hey, just trying to help you out, buddy. This one won't bark at you." Chet crowed, albeit quietly.

Roy was peering at the stuffed animal, ignoring the insults flying around him. "What's the big deal, Johnny? It's just a stuffed toy."

"You like it so much, here," Johnny tossed the dog over at Roy. "I'm sure Jennifer'll like it."

"You know," Chet continued. "I've got a theory about this dog business of yours. You know this weather we've been having? Well, there's another name for it beside Indian summer."

"Oh, this should be good. I can hardly wait."

Chet ignored the sarcasm. "They're also called the dog days of summer….hehehehe. Maybe we should start calling them the Johnny days of summer."

"Oh, hardee har har."

"Excuse me!" Captain Stanley's voice boomed across the room. "Just what does a Captain have to do around here to get some quiet so he can sleep?"

"Sorry, Cap."

"Yeah, sorry," Johnny hastily added as he slipped into his bunk.

"Fine. You're sorry. Now GO TO SLEEP!"

Silence reigned for a full three minutes, then, a muffled "Arf" from one mustachioed fireman sent the others into a fit of giggles, sounding like a roomful of 10 year olds.

Stanley stalked to the middle of the room. His voice was low, deadly serious. "You know, it's the middle of the night and I'm awake. This isn't a good thing. Do you know why this isn't a good thing?"

No one was feeling particularly brave enough to answer, not even Chet.

"Because," Stanley continued, a gleam in his eyes as he glared at each of his men. "When I'm awake in the middle of the night like this, I start thinking about the duty roster. And when I start thinking about the duty roster in the middle of the night, I start thinking about all the things I can add to it for each and every one of you…"

It was amazing how quiet the room became, not even the sound of breathing breaking the silence as each man hunkered down in his bunk. First turning to look at each man to make sure his message had been received, Stanley then walked back to his own bed and quickly climbed in. Punching his pillow once, he grinned. Yup, with these guys you just had to always stay one step ahead.

An hour later, the night's silence was shattered by the harsh call of the station's tones. The overhead lights flickered to life and as one, the six men surged awake and were moving before the sounds ended.

"STATION 51, ENGINE 14, ENGINE 10, STRUCTURE FIRE. 142 CALVERT DRIVE. CROSS STREET DENNISON. 142 CALVERT DRIVE. TIME OUT 2:45."

With practiced ease, the fire fighters slipped into their turnout gear, snapping suspenders into place, boots on, as they scrambled out into the Engine Bay. Finished scribbling down the address, Stanley was only steps behind them.

Johnny slipped into the passenger seat of the squad and reached behind him to pull down his helmet from its hook, and strapped it on. He grabbed the slip of paper that Stanley handed him, clicking his pen as he glanced down at the address, automatically starting to figure out the exact location of the call.

Suddenly, he froze.

142 Calvert Drive.

Roy spared him a quick glance as he shifted the Squad into gear. He hadn't heard the call's location and needed Johnny to direct him. "Johnny?" he prodded. "Right or left?"

Johnny looked up at him, worry etched on his face. "Left. Go left…"

Roy pulled out of the station, turning left, siren wailing, the Engine following closely behind. "You okay?"

Johnny continued to look down at the slip of paper he was now clenching in his hands. "It's…Roy, it's 142 Calvert Drive. That's Chili's parents' place."

End of Part 1.....Go On To Part Two

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