A Serious Cramp in My Style by Nexxie PART III "Hi, honey," Joanne leaned down to kiss Jennifer on the forehead as she passed her daughter in the hall. "Did you have fun at the beach?" Jen was leaning against one wall, feet propped against the other, a glass of diet soda in one hand and the telephone cradled on her shoulder. She felt the blood rushing into her face at the memory of just how much fun she had. "Uh, yeah, Mom. It was a nice day." She hoped that would end the conversation. "Did you run into anybody that you knew?" Joanne would usually have been treated to a discourse on everybody and everything her daughter saw, telephone conversation not withstanding. That she was not made her suspicious...and doggedly determined to find out what Jen was not saying. "Well, um...yeah. I saw J.R. and Uncle Johnny. I talked to J.R. for a while, but Johnny had some ...uh other company, you know?" Well, it was true, after all, Jen defended her partial answer. She felt a little guilty for implying that Johnny was too busy with some woman to talk to her. Joanne sighed. It sounded like Johnny had found 'it' again. "Well, I'm glad you had a good time. Was J.R. hanging around with anyone in particular?" She half expected to hear that Dave Konnitsky was there with him. Those two were pretty thick, and Chris made up the 'third musketeer' when he was home. "Uh, no Mom, just him and Uncle Johnny. Uncle Johnny was ...uh busy, so J.R. came over and joined our group." Jennifer was really crossing her fingers now, hoping her mom was satisfied. "Well, I guess there's safety in numbers. What did your friends think of him?" Joanne was still slightly uneasy, although Jen's answers all seemed to indicate nothing unusual. "Think of who?" "Whom," Joanne corrected automatically. "What did your friends think of J.R.?" "Oh...they thought he was cute," Jen answered briefly before returning to her phone conversation in hopes Joanne would drop the subject. With a sigh, Jo decided she wasn't going to get anything more out of her daughter. She just hoped there wasn't anything to hide. Jennifer's friend was giggling. She'd heard the conversation and was teasing about all the little details Jen left out...like the kiss she shared with J.R. out in the surf and the fact that Jen and J.R. spent just about the whole day together alone. Jennifer's girlfriends on the beach were eager witnesses to that kiss and discussed it throughout the day, speculating also on what happened when the pair went walking off alone. "Cute?" Jen's friend laughed. "We thought he was 'cute'? As I recall we said he was sexy, shy and had eyes to die for. Not to mention his..." "I remember what you said," Jen told her, hoping to end the conversation before it became even more embarrassing. "Look, I gotta go. I think I hear my mom calling." She crossed her fingers. Her mom was calling the dog. "I'll catch ya later, okay?" ****************** "Roll call in five minutes, gentlemen," Johnny Gage told his crew. He bade his customary goodbye to Jeff Brady, B-Shift's captain, raising the log book in salute as he finished his first cup of coffee for the day. I hope those guys practiced their knot tying over their days off, he thought. If they screw up in front of Chief McConikee today, they'll be tying knots in their sleep for the next six months. "Good morning, John!" Speaking of Chief McConikee. Geez, he's early! He wasn't supposed to be here until just before lunch. No wonder Hank Stanley was paranoid of him. Something tells me he wasn't completely wrong. "Mornin' Chief! How are you this fine day?" Johnny was cheerful anyway. The station didn't look too bad. Now if only the 'Phantom Wannabe' didn't strike today... Gage still hadn't figured out who was pulling all the pranks on him. When he did, though, somebody was gonna be mincemeat. "Can't complain, John, can't complain. Is 'Johnny's Crew' ready for the once-over?" McConikee chuckled. The name 51's C-Shift dubbed themselves was common knowledge in the Department. He was glad, too. It showed a good working relationship and loyalty. He wished all the stations under his direction had this kind of rapport. Maybe it was a holdover from Hank Stanley's influence, or maybe it had something to do with the man who was their captain. A-Shift had this kind of camaraderie when Johnny Gage was there as a paramedic. "Roll call, gentlemen. Guys? Hey, Lopez...Taylor...Manley...Dwyer...Konnitsky?" Johnny called out, bewildered. His crew seldom failed to be lined up and ready. Why today of all mornings did they have to be messing around somewhere else? "Coming, Cap!" Konnitsky's voice sang out from the locker room as the men of Johnny's Crew ran to line up. With a sigh of relief Johnny picked up his clipboard and took his place in front of his men, awaiting the Chief. McConikee walked out and stood in front of Cap Gage. Gage felt a breeze behind him as if there was a massive and synchronized movement...then stillness. He saw the chief struggle with laughter, a big grin splitting his face for an instant before he mastered it and regained a straight face. "Well, John, is your station ready for inspection?" Chief McConikee looked sternly at Johnny. For a moment Gage was nonplussed, but kept his composure. "Yes, Sir," Johnny replied. Those twits better not be pulling anything now! He unconsciously thought the words Hank Stanley would have said. "Then let's get to it." McConikee's lips twitched. Johnny turned around to escort the chief and stood open-mouthed in astonishment. Each of his men had donned a black wig that looked suspiciously like Johnny's own hair and a service cap that was just the tiniest bit too small. They were all maintaining straight faces while McConikee broke into laughter and clapped Johnny on the back. Cap Gage's eyes flashed a promise of retaliation before he started down the line. "Firefighter Specialist Marco Lopez." "Lopez," the chief addressed the engineer, compressing his lips to hold in the laughter. "Get a haircut." "Yes, Sir," Marco grinned, whipping off the hat and then the wig before replacing the hat. "That's better." Johnny rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Firefighter Rudy Taylor." "Taylor, how is it you have black hair and a blond mustache?" McConikee was enjoying himself. Most inspections were routinely boring, everybody trying real hard to kiss his boots. These guys were having fun at their captain's expense and letting their chief in on it. He appreciated it---this once. Taylor fingered his mustache. "I forgot to shave, Sir," he answered, thinking fast. "The Late Firefighter David Konnitsky," Johnny introduced. "Konnitsky, I could have sworn last time I saw you, you were a redhead." Chief McConikee straightened Konnitsky's crazily-tilted cap and moved on. "Firefighter Paramedic Charlie Dwyer," Johnny said through clenched teeth. Dwyer was dead meat too. Johnny could just about bet he was behind this. "Dwyer. Nice hair. Good color on you." "Firefighter Paramedic Greg Manley," Johnny finished with a sigh. "Manley, you liking it here? Last time I saw you, you were at 45's." "Yes, Sir. When my partner left 45's Dwyer filled in and dragged me back here with him. We seem to do okay together." "Good. Glad to hear it. Well, John, seems everything is in order with your men. Shall we look around the station?" Johnny offered up a quick prayer that no other surprises awaited him, but he wouldn't have been surprised to find lipstick on the mirror in the latrine or some such. "STATION 51...ENGINE 99...STRUCTURE FIRE...1307 MACEY AVENUE...1-3-0-7 MACEY...TIME OUT 08:30" "Station 51, KMG-365," Johnny acknowledged before handing off the call slip and running to the engine. Momentarily surprised to find the chief in his seat, Johnny motioned Konnitsky to the back of the engine while he jumped up behind McConikee. He turned to the cab and yelled his customary, "Let's roll, Marco!" It was, after all, still HIS station...for the moment. The structure fire was an Italian restaurant and 51 arrived first, although Johnny was glad to see Engine 99 roll up with Roy on board. Johnny knew McConikee was watching him, but Gage was in his element. He could count on his men's performance, he knew, and got straight to the business of fighting the fire. Konnitsky, already on the back of the engine when they arrived, jumped off with a line to connect Big Red to the hydrant while Marco pulled forward. Taylor drew an inch-and-a-half from the hose bed in anticipation of the order, which Johnny proceded to give him, along with a nod of thanks. "Sir," Gage asked the man who seemed to be the restaurant's owner or manager, "is everybody out of there?" "I thought so," the man said worriedly, "but I don't see Terry, the bus boy. He was right behind me when I came out. I don't see him now though." "Would you do me a favor and look for him out here, please, while I send in my men to search the building? Let me know immediately if he shows up, okay?" Johnny beckoned Dwyer. "The manager thinks there may be a victim inside still. His name is Terry." Dwyer nodded and together with Manley, donned their SCBA and headed into the building while Taylor covered their entry with the hose. "Johnny, what have we got?" Roy approached jogging. "It looks like the fire started in the kitchen. Take Engine 99 down the alley and cover the back. We'll take the front side. I've got Dwyer and Manley inside looking for a possible missing victim. Keep an eye out for them to come out the back way." Roy nodded and ran back to do as Cap Gage requested. He is 'Cap Gage' at times like this, Roy reflected. A year ago, who would have thought? Johnny looked briefly at Marco and understood from a nod that he was watching the gauges and the men. Picking up his HT, Johnny contacted his paramedics. "Dwyer, any sign of the victim in there?" "No, Cap," was the response. "We've checked the whole downstairs. It seems like the upstairs is all living quarters. Should we check up there?" "Stand by." Johnny told him as he approached the manager. "Have you located the bus boy out here?" "Oh, yeah, I forgot. He's sitting right over there," the man answered. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you, I was so relieved." "Dwyer, get out of there. The victim has been located outside." Johnny shook his head. Dwyer and Manley barely made it out the door when there was an explosion, sending them flying toward the parking lot. The building became an inferno as the second floor gave way Johnny ran to help his paramedics to their feet and make sure they were unhurt. Other than a couple of minor abrasions, his men were okay, but it was a very close call. "Engine 99, Engine 51, you guys ok, Roy?" Johnny was anxious until he heard his friends voice. "Engine 51, Engine 99, we're a little singed around the edges, but we're all okay." "Engine 99, what's the situation? Do you need assistance back there?" Johnny could rely on Roy's assessment, and prepared to call in a second alarm assignment. "Engine 51, that's affirmative, there's danger of the fire spreading the the neighboring buildings back here." "10-4, 99." "L.A., Engine 51, respond a second alarm assignment to our location." "Engine 51" Dwyer and Manley pulled a second hose off the engine and helped control the fire in front. Johnny nodded to Marco to keep an eye on things and went to back up Taylor, sending Konnitsky around to help 99's. The fire proved stubborn. When 15's and 118's arrived in the second alarm assignment Johnny offered to turn control of the fire over to Chief McConikee. The chief declined and Johnny knew he was being evaluated. He positioned the additional engines to assist 99's and cover the adjacent buildings. When the blaze was finally out, Johnny released the second assignment while his crew and Roy's began clean-up. "Can't put out a fire without me, John? or just wanted to see your son?" Cap Riley teased Johnny as he ordered his men to pack it up and head for home. Noticing J.R. in conversation with Konnitsky, Johnny snickered. "Nah, Gene, just figured you guys needed some exercise. I thought we'd let you come out and play at our fire." Gene Riley slapped Johnny on the back before getting into 15's engine and heading out. ****************** J.R. dug into the Minestrone with gusto. Farms was cook that day and had brought in the savory soup his wife made the day before. She always cooked for a crowd, he'd explained, and there was more than enough left over to feed their shift with the addition of sandwiches and a quick tossed salad. J.R. remembered that his dad fixed Minestrone just last shift for his own crew. It was one of the first dishes he'd learned to prepare, probably because it was just about his son's favorite. This version was more heavily seasoned than J.R. was used to, but it was good. He would have to ask Farms for the recipe. Just as the men started on their salads and sandwiches, the Station was toned out to another fire. J.R. ran to his place on the engine across from Farms, glad he'd had a little time to tame the hunger monster that gnawed at his stomach before they got another response. The fire was in the storage room at a large department store in the mall. A smoldering cigarette tossed carelessly into a large trash can ignited the contents and, unnoticed at lunch hour, soon spread throughout the storage room. The sprinkler system was activated throughout the store, dousing the merchandise and the customers, but malfunctioned in the back where the flames shot up high and hot. The day was already pretty warm and J.R. was sweating beneath his turnouts before they even reached the fire. Cap Riley called for Winston and Crawford to check for victims while Farms and Gage turned their hoses on the blaze. The storage room was an inferno and totally inaccessible. The paramedics concentrated on making sure all the customers and employees were out of the store until their crewmates had knocked down the blaze enough for them to search in back. J.R. tugged at his turnouts, scratching as the sweat poured off his body. It sure was hot and getting hard to see; his eyes were burning even under the SCBA mask. He was glad to note the arrival of more firefighters from Engines 118 and 127 joining them in the back room. It was stuffy inside his mask and hard to breathe. "Gage!" Cap Riley called motioning the young firefighter toward him. J.R. handed off his hose to the fireman from 118's that was backing him up and ran over to see what his captain wanted. "I can't seem to locate Winston and Crawford," Cap Riley informed him. "They must not be able to hear their handy talkie or it isn't turned on. Last I saw them they were headed for the southwest corner of the building. See if you can find them and help them with victims if necessary." "Okay, Cap," J.R. replied, tugging at his collar as if it would help him breathe. The smoke was really irritating his eyes---they were burning and swelling---and the heat was unusually intense for a room with such a high ceiling. The floor out in the store was slippery, the highly polished tile soaked by the sprinkler system, which somebody finally managed to turn off. J.R. slogged through the puddles going carefully down each aisle in search of the paramedics, but with no success. "Crawford," J.R. croaked, his throat swollen and sore. "Winston? Can you guys hear me?" Hell, he thought, nobody's gonna hear me if I can't yell any louder than this. I wonder why my throat is so irritated. Must have been some kind of chemicals in that store room. J.R. noticed that his hands were stiff and swollen, burning and itching as if... Oh no, it isn't the smoke at all! There must have been bay leaf in the soup! The search for Winston and Crawford was now personal. He had to get a shot of Epinephrine fast. Why oh why didn't I tell the guys at the station that I had that allergy attack two days ago? Stupid pride. Dumb, stupid pride! I didn't want anybody to know about my 'weakness'. Well, everybody's gonna know now, and my pride might really cost me this time. Cap Riley released Engine 127 and directed 118's to help with the clean-up. Luckily there were no casualties beyond one bruised ego when Farms Farmer slipped on the polished tile floor and sat down hard. Winston and Crawford came around the corner of the building headed toward the squad. "Cap, we're gonna need a replacement handy talkie, this one doesn't transmit worth a damn." Winston informed Gene Riley. "We could hear every word you said, but I guess you never heard us, huh?" "Not a peep," Riley confirmed, shaking his head. "I'll have this one replaced in short order," he told them, not wanting his paramedics out of touch for any length of time. "Uh, Cap, can we use one from the engine while we go to Rampart for supplies? We don't have any victims to treat this time and if you don't need us here, we'll head out and meet you back at the station." "Yeah, clean-up is almost done anyway, go ahead. Oh, where's Gage?" "I don't know," Crawford replied, "we haven't seen him since we got here." He looked at his partner, "You haven't seen J.R., have you, Walt?" Winston shook his head, becoming uneasy at his captain's suddenly agitated look. "What's the matter,Cap? Is something wrong with the kid?" "I sent him after you two over half an hour ago, into the southwest corner of the store. He didn't come back, so I assumed he was helping you guys with victims or something." Crawford and Manley headed back into the store at a dead run. After searching a few minutes, they found the young firefighter unconscious behind a display of rugs. "Engine 15, this is HT-15, we found him." "HT-15, Winston, is he all right?" "Cap, we're gonna need a stokes and have somebody set up our equipment ASAP. Also, we will need an ambulance, we have a Code-I." "Walt! He's arresting! We can't wait for the stokes, let's just get him outta here." Crawford pulled J.R. up and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. With Winston to steady him on the slippery surface of the tile floor, he nearly ran out of the building, meeting Farms on his way in with the stokes. "Never mind that!" Winston yelled to Farmer as they passed. Get me the drug box and the biophone!" Farms made as quick a U-turn as he could while carrying the stokes and ran to the squad for the requested items. He handed the biophone to Winston and the drug box to Crawford, looking with trepidition at his inert comrade lying on the wet pavement. Kit Crawford motioned Farms to help him remove J.R.'s turnout coat as Winston contacted Rampart. With only the emergency lights functioning in the store, Crawford hadn't gotten a good look at the young firefighter. Now in the strong sunlight, he gasped at the J.R.'s swollen red face and ripped open the young man's shirt to expose the welts that covered his torso as well. "What the hell? Walt look at this!" After inserting the airway ordered by Dr. Brackett, Crawford slipped the BP cuff on J.R.'s blotchy arm and inflated it to get a new set of vitals. Damn! Don't do this to me, kid!" J.R.'s BP was dropping fast. Walt looked over at his young friend and gave a low whistle. He relayed the vital signs as Crawford gave them, finishing with, "Rampart, we cannot check his pupils, the eyes are swollen shut." Kelly Brackett thought for a minute and shook his head. "15, you said this is a Code-I? Is it J.R. Gage?" Walt looked surprised, and it showed in his voice as he said in bewilderment, "That's affirmative, Rampart." "15, are there large welts on his face and body?" I should have figured this would happen; that kid is as pig-headed as his father. Kelly Brackett prescribed the Epinephrine that, hopefully, was not too little too late. "Get him here on the double, gentlemen," Brackett said, turning to Dixie McCall who waited anxiously at his side. "Dix, maybe you'd better call Johnny and have him come over here, just in case..." A little misty-eyed, Dixie went to the base station and dialed Station 51. She managed to compose herself before hearing the cheery, "Station 51, Captain Gage speaking." ****************** When Johnny's Crew got back to 51's, Taylor approached his captain. "Cap, I dont feel so good, could somebody else fix lunch today?" Johnny frowned, concern etched on his face. "Do you need a replacement, Rudy?" he asked. "No, Cap, I'll be all right in a little bit. I just need some fresh air. If you don't mind, I'll help Marco with the hoses." Taylor was looking hopeful and he relaxed when Johnny gave tentative agreement. "I guess that's okay. Hey, what were you gonna fix for lunch?" "Stroganoff," Rudy admitted. Luckily that was one dish J.R. already taught Johnny to prepare and he felt fairly confident in taking over. He couldn't know that Taylor was aware of that fact. "Okay, I'll fix lunch then, Rudy. Meanwhile, you have Dwyer check you over. If he says you're okay to work this shift, then go ahead and help Marco---but stay off the hose tower; that's not a request." "Yes, Sir," Taylor responded, feeling a little guilty for deceiving his captain with a phony illness. Johnny headed for the kitchen followed, unbeknownst to him, by his whole crew and a very curious Chief McConikee, who came out of the office just in time to view the procession. "What the...Alright! Who did this?" Johnny's angry voice reverberated throughout the station. I'm gonna kill that kid of mine, he thought. As he opened the cupboards to remove the necessary cooking paraphenalia, he found all the frying pans labeled 'Station 51 hoses'. The dutch ovens were marked 'Station 99 paramedics' and the mixing bowls identified as 'Station 15 engine crew' while the stock pot was 'Station 110 deluge'. The normal kitchen timer was replaced by one shaped like the figure of a chef with the name 'Marco' inscribed on his hat. Since the meal would require at least one of each kind of cookware, the crew and the chief were treated to the sight of all the various labels as their captain prepared lunch. Cap Gage turned around to find all his men standing at the door grinning at him and knew his secret would soon be common knowledge in the fire department. "Oh, ha ha!" he said grumpily. McConikee was grinning broadly. He couldn't wait for an explanation of this one. Johnny worked quickly and efficiently, muttering imprecations the entire time. Lunch was tasty and, for the most part, uninterrupted. "That was a fine meal, Captain Gage," the chief said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, a contented smile on his face. "Thank you Chief, glad you enjoyed it. Now I'm gonna enjoy watching Taylor, Konnitsky and Lopez clean the paint off all these pots and pans." There was a mass groan. The paramedics were toned out during the meal and had missed hearing Cap Gage's embarrassed explanation to Chief McConikee. They would be filled in later, Gage was sure. "Well, John," McConikee began, "I've got to head back to my office. I don't often find inspections enjoyable, but this one was. Your men work well together and know their job. They seem also to be a close-knit group, and I think I can attribute that to their captain. "I'm glad you stayed with us, John. You're a real asset to the Department. Have a good day. Oh, and I'll watch the knot tying drills next time, when things aren't so exciting." McConikee took a last look at the firemen removing paint from the cookware and chuckled, shaking his head as he left. The phone rang as Johnny stood watching his men clean the cookware, smiling when they groused at the task. Revenge was sweet! "Station 51, Captain Gage speaking." It was Dixie McCall. After a few words, he let the phone drop and ran out into the back parking lot. "Chief!" he called frantically, waving McConikee to a stop before he could leave the station parking lot. Moments later Johnny was in his Rover, breaking every speed law on the road as he headed toward Rampart and his son's still uncertain fate. ****************** Johnny kept vigil at his son's bedside in the ICU, his head resting on the railing as he struggled to stay awake. J.R. was recovering from shock, his blood pressure returning to normal, but he'd not yet regained consciousness. It was unknown yet whether there had been any permanent damage. Son, Johnny thought, if you come out of this OK I'm gonna tape that Epi Pen to your butt and tell everybody I can think of that it's there. Two tears escaped the corners of Johnny's eyes as he sqeezed them shut at the painful thoughts that he couldn't keep from dwelling on. He remembered his arrival at the ER. He ran frantically from treatment room to treatment room, throwing open doors until he found his son. Kel Brackett, Joe Early and Dixie McCall looked up to see Captain John Gage tear into the room, his eyes wild with concern. J.R.'s features were so swollen as to be nearly unrecognizable. A vent tube was taped into place in his mouth and IVs snaked into his arms. A heart monitor gave slow steady beeps that seemed to punctuate the wheezing rhythm of the ventilator. At the sight of his desperately ill son, Johnny's knees turned to water and he sank to the floor against the wall, sucking in air in huge gasps to keep from passing out. His worst fears seemed about to be realized. Dixie was well practiced in the art of TLC-Tender Loving Care, but she was also pretty well versed in 'tough love'. Most times she knew instinctively just which one to use---right now she needed to get Johnny's attention. "Johnny, get up!" Dixie told him in her best no-nonsense voice. "You are not a carpet, and you are not going to decorate the floor of my treatment room. Take yourself to the doctor's lounge and wait until we say you can come back." Johnny just looked at her without comprehension, his soft brown eyes pleading for reassurance. Dix never had been proof against those eyes of his. "Come on, Johnny, we're going outside so Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early can work." If he didn't get up on his own she would have to call for an orderly to help her, but Johnny took her hand, got to his feet and followed Dixie like an obedient child. Once in the lounge, John Gage leaned against the door, his head on his arm. Dixie watched as his lanky frame shuddered and disolved into deep wracking sobs. Johnny blushed to remember how Dixie led him to the couch and held him in her arms while he cried like a baby, afraid he would lose his son. A movement on the pillow as J.R. turned his head from side to side heralded the first sign in hours that his son might recover. "J.R.? Son, it's time to wake up. Come on, J.R. open your eyes." Johnny leaned closer, looking intently at his son's face which, though pale, was at least back to normal size. "D-Daddy?" J.R. whispered, his throat hoarse and sore from both the allergy attack and the vent tube. Daddy!  What did they put in that IV? Johnny wondered. I wish I had a tape recorder---this would make great blackmail material. On second thought, maybe I'll just keep it to myself; it sounded kind of nice. Johnny pressed the call button and told the nurse to let Dr. Brackett know that J.R. was waking up, then he turned back and addressed his son again. "J.R., wake up, son. Open your eyes for me." J.R.'s eyelids fluttered just as Kel Brackett walked into the room. "Well, are you gonna wake up for us, J.R.?" Kel asked. When J.R. finally managed to focus his squinting eyes on the doctor, Kel asked Johnny to wait outside while he examined the patient. ****************** Jennifer DeSoto sat as calmly as possible in the waiting room outside ICU. When her dad told her mom the night before that J.R. had another allergic reaction, this time very serious, and was in Intensive Care at Rampart, Jen hurried to her room and dissolved in tears. She wanted to go to the hospital and keep Johnny company, but at sixteen, she knew she wouldn't be allowed to see J.R. When Jennifer ran from the room, Joanne sighed, but refrained from mentioning it to Roy. Jen made no real secret of the fact that she found J.R. attractive, but to her knowledge, J.R. didn't return the regard. Hopefully he would find greener pastures elsewhere, like at the Riley's house...if he recovered. They would go to the hospital to check on the Gages when Roy got off shift in the morning. Hopefully Johnny's boy would be okay. Joanne offered up a little prayer for him; she couldn't help it if it wasn't as fervent as it could have been. ****************** Outside the ICU, Johnny found a room full of firefighters from both 51's and 15's, and the DeSoto's, all anxiously awaiting news. Johnny took a swipe at the salty trails on his face, still glistening with tears, and accepted quick hugs from Joanne and Jennifer. He turned and announced to the group at large, "He's awake. Brackett's with him now. He'll come out and tell me...us the results pretty soon, I guess." He was immediately surrounded by the men of Johnny's Crew who slapped him on the back and told him how worried they had been, and then received similar comments from J.R.'s shiftmates. Kel Brackett entered the ICU waiting area to encounter a crowd of people awaiting his verdict. He smirked and shook his head, never failing to marvel at what a close-knit group these guys made. He just looked at them, smiled at Johnny and said, "He's hungry," before continuing down the hall toward the ER. He didn't need to tell them any more than that. "Hey, Cap," Konnitsky hailed him, "Tell him I'll be in to see him tomorrow and I'll bring the Riley twins with me...that should cheer him up." The young red-headed firefighter didn't see the daggers in Jennifer DeSoto's eyes as he walked jauntily out of the waiting room. "Cap," Marco shook his hand, "I've been prayin' for you and J.R. ever since you left." "Thanks, Marco, that means a lot to me." "Cap, you take it easy and tell J.R. we're thinkin' about him, okay?" Dwyer and Manley, whom he'd come to think of as a single entity, clapped Johnny on the back before making an exit as well. Rudy Taylor walked up with Del Nichols from 15's and was joined by the rest of J.R.'s crewmates, offering their best wishes and promising to come back and see his son later. Johnny stared down the hall where his crew gathered to wait on Rudy so they could all leave together and he thought back to Roy's words two days ago. "Relax, Junior, you'll get 'it' back, if you're meant to. But if you don't, and losing 'it' was the price you paid for becoming a captain and gaining a great kid like J.R., wasn't losing 'it' worth it?" Yeah, Roy, some people have 'it' and some people don't. And if I've lost 'it', but gained these clowns and J.R., it's a pretty fair trade. THE END comments for Nexxie? return to main menu