FRAMED! by Min & Nexxie "Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. Hmm hmm hmm hmm..."  Johnny waltzed into the kitchen carrying a handful of mail for the station. Some were brightly colored envelopes, obviously Christmas cards, mixed in with official mail, advertisements and the occasional nasty complaining letter. "Who killed a cat?" asked the station's resident Phantom, AKA Chester B. Kelly. "Oh, excuse me, it's just Gage singing." "Go play in traffic, Kelly," was the mild rejoinder. Roy looked up from the logbook. "What's in the mail?" "Looks like the station got some Christmas cards, and we got some junk mail, and ..." "Christmas cards! Lemme see! I like Christmas cards!" Chet made a grab for the cards, and the mail went flying in several directions. "Chet, ya bum! Would ya just wait a minute?! Geez!" Gage bent over to pick up the scattered pieces of mail. One eluded him and slid under the table. Chet dove for it at the same time. SMACK! The sound of two heads cracking together echoed through the kitchen. Both men sat back rubbing sore skulls, the mail forgotten. Mike Stoker calmly bent down and retrieved the letters, then handed them to Captain Stanley who peeked in to find out the cause of the commotion. When Hank spotted Kelly and Gage on the floor, he just shook his head. "I don't even wanna know. Thanks, Mike." Cap took the mail and retreated to the safety of his office. "Gage, I swear, you're a walking disaster magnet! Ow! My head!" moaned Kelly. "Chet, you're getting more and more dangerous to be around," answered Johnny. Roy bent down and helped his partner to his feet. "You better let me check you out, you might have a concussion." "Man, Roy, I'm fine, but you'd better check Chet out. He might have brain damage, but first he'd have to have a brain," Johnny snickered. "Never mind, I guess you're both okay...for you." Roy shrugged and went to the cookie jar in search of a snack. "Oh, does anybody know if Mrs. Peterson sent cookies this year?" The store-bought variety in the jar seemed suddenly less appealing. Still rubbing his head, Johnny joined his partner at the counter and took a handful of the small hard cookies from the jar. "You know, ever since she brought me cookies in the hospital, she hasn't missed a year?" "Yeah, I think she kind of likes you, Johnny." Roy smirked. "Actually, I think it was me she liked," Chet interjected. "You! Chet, she didn't even remember who you were." "Yeah, well, once she remembered me, I think she really started to warm up..." "In your dreams, Kelly," Johnny remarked, stuffing a cookie in his mouth. "I'm sure she'll send cookies, she hasn't missed yet. Besides, if you guys want cookies so bad, you could make some," Mike suggested. Marco looked at his friend, and nodded his head in agreement. "Cookies aren't that hard to bake, and it's a lot of fun." Roy agreed, "Jo always bakes cookies at this time of year, and she lets the kids help. They all have a lot of fun, and I reap the benefits." "Benefits, Roy?" "Yeah, Johnny, I get to eat the cookies." He smiled. Johnny patted Roy's no-longer-so-flat tummy. "Hey, partner, I think you've been reaping a few too many benefits lately." Roy scowled. It was a sore point that he had to watch his weight while Johnny could eat more than three men and burn it off in an hour. Roy opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the tones. "Saved by the bell," he muttered to his smugly smiling partner. "Station 51, unknown-type rescue, Tone 'N' Tan, 6510 Alameda, Six-Five-One-Zero Alameda, cross street, Morris. Time out, 10:56." The steady voice of Sam Lanier came over the speaker. "Station 51, KMG-365," responded Hank. "Tone 'N' Tan, huh, isn't that the new fitness place they've been advertising?" asked Johnny. "Yeah, Junior, I think it is." "Cool, then there will be lots of chicks there." Roy sighed and shook his head. Sometimes Johnny had a one track mind. The full parking lot indicated the immense popularity of the establishment as Roy pulled as close as possible to the curb. Several cars hugged the club's front sidewalk, forcing the emergency vehicles to double park. "It's a good thing this isn't a fire," Johnny observed. "Yeah, his partner remarked, slamming the door to the squad before the two hurried over to join Captain Stanley and the manager of Tone 'N' Tan. "What have we got, Cap?" Roy asked him. "Roy, John, this is the manager, Renee Fishburn. She tells me that two of her clients are stuck in the new sauna they just installed." "And we can't get the door open. The only good thing about all this is the fact that the heat units aren't installed yet. Do you think you can help them?" The tall blond girl looked earnestly into Roy's eyes. "We'll be glad to help you," Johnny said smiling, hoping to divert some of her attention his way. "Good, you guys are lifesavers." Renee led the way to the back of the shop where a freestanding sauna stood surrounded by patrons, all determined to offer advice. The cedar structure still emanated a woody 'new' smell. "We had a note on the door to tell people that it wasn't in operation yet, but I guess they didn't pay attention." Miss Fishburn gave a demonstratory yank on the door, obviously jammed shut. "I wonder how they did that?" Johnny mused, examining the structure. "Roy, it looks like they shifted the frame when they slammed the door. Ya know, I think if we just put some weight against the other side, that door might pop open." Cap scratched his head, "It's worth a try, and it's sure better than having to use a crowbar." Women dressed in leotards crowded in around them. Cap turned around and politely asked them all to step back. One woman, a gorgeous brunette, walked up to him, and asked, "Excuse me, handsome, where do you work out? You're in marvelous shape." She ran her hand up and down his arm. Cap smiled at her, and gently guided her to the side. "Why don't you stand over here? That way you won't get hurt." She smiled at him gratefully. Johnny and Roy worked on opening the sauna door. Together they gave the other side one last push and the door popped open. Two very lovely, and very scantily clad women stepped out. They looked around, and then turned and gave both Johnny and Roy grateful hugs. Roy blushed, Johnny gave them his killer grin. One of the girls checked out Johnny's biceps. "Hmm, could use some work. I could help you with that." Affronted at first, Gage decided to roll with the punches. "Maybe I'll just take you up on that," he said, leaning back against the door of the sauna, which promptly gave way and left him seated on the floor. As he stood up rubbing the affected area, Johnny spotted a hot tub on its side, against the wall. "Hey, when are you gonna install that?" he asked Renee. "We aren't," she replied. "That was left here by the previous owners. It's too small for our purposes, so we're going to sell it." "Really? How much would you be willing to sell it for?" Roy looked at his partner, not liking the look he saw there. Johnny was getting a brainstorm, and everytime Johnny got a brainstorm, Roy wound up paying for it, one way or another. Cap walked up to the pair, and said, "Hey Roy, isn't that similar to the one you and Jo looked at last month?" "Yeah, Cap, but it turned out to be way too expensive. There's no way we could afford it." "I'll let it go for $500 boys, a real deal at that price." Renee looked at the paramedics as if she expected them to snap it up on the spot. When they didn't, she said defensively, "It's in great shape; there's nothing wrong with it. Hey, I can even have it delivered if you're interested, my brother owns a truck. C'mon, guys, what do you say?" Johnny looked longingly at the hot tub, imagining himself relaxing in the warm water, his arm around the pretty girl who volunteered to help him with his biceps. Reality, in the form of his partner, intervened. "Ah, I don't think we can come up with that kind of cash this close to Christmas. It's a shame, though. It would have been nice." Johnny pinned Roy to the wall of the sauna, "Roy! Are you crazy? That's a steal! Look, I've got about $150 in savings..." "No, Johnny." "...and if you can put in another...no?" "No, Johnny, Jo would kill me if I spent that much money so close to Christmas. I've got the kids to think of. There's no way I can do it." Johnny thought a minute. "Look, if I can come up with a way to get the other money, will you do it?" "Okay, but I can't think of anything that's gonna get us the extra money." Johnny turned to Renee'. "Can you hold it for us?" "Okay, but only for a week or so." Johnny gave her a huge smile. "That's great! We'll get back to you." "We'll get back to you? Johnny, we're talking about $350 in a week. Even with overtime, we can't get that much. It would be two weeks before we see the money." Roy threw his hands up, "You're crazy, you know that? You're certifiably insane." Johnny's face fell. "Roy, we'll find a way. We will! And if we don't, well...we will!" The two paramedics climbed into the squad. "What's for lunch, I'm starved?" Roy, still full from the cookies, stared at his partner in disbelief. Both vehicles headed for the station. They were only a block from home, when the radio beeped. "Station 51, stand by for response." The tones sounded, and Sam's voice could be heard. "Station 51, Station 110, Truck 127, Battalion 14, fire at the Community College, Ford and Dover. Ford and Dover. Time out: 12:20." The classroom building resembled a torch when they arrived. Flames shot from the roof, the structure fully involved. The chief's voice bellowed over the radio directing Engine and Squad 51 to the rear of the building. The squad pulled ahead, dropping Johnny off at the hydrant before Mike pulled Big Red up beside him. Chet jumped from the seat behind Mike and helped Gage draw hoses from the bed, then connect to the hydrant. The engine pulled away laying out hose behind. Johnny and Chet ran to catch up with the others, dodging between the vehicles from 110's as they moved in behind 51's. Roy stood waiting with Johnny's SCBA and lifelines. "They aren't sure everybody is out, Johnny," Roy yelled to be heard above the general din. "Cap says to make it fast." The dense smoke made even seeing each other difficult. Climbing the stairs to the second floor, they proceeded to check each classroom, marking the doors with a big white chalk 'X'. Reaching the last room on the floor, they heard the sound of coughing coming from behind a desk. Roy picked up the HT. "Engine 51, HT 51, Cap, we've found someone. Bringing them out shortly." "10-4, HT 51." Mike and Cap got the equipment out of the squad and set it up. "I'll take this one down, Johnny," Roy yelled through his mask. Johnny nodded understanding and continued the search. He completed a rapid sweep of the third floor, finding no other victims, then hurried down to see what assistance he could render his partner. "No burns, no apparent injuries," Roy informed Johnny. "He just ate some smoke." The victim held the oxygen mask to his face, taking deep gulping breaths. Johnny opened the biophone. "Rampart base, this is Rescue 51. How do you read?" Joe Early's calm voice came back over the link, "Loud and clear, 51." "Rampart, we have a male victim, approximate age 40, suffering from smoke inhalation. Vitals are: pulse, 100; respirations, 24; blood pressure, 100/60. Patient was cyanotic. Patient is currently on 15 litres of O2. The man pulled the mask away from his face and grabbed Roy by the arm. "Hey, I've got a class to teach tonight. My art students hired a model, and I have to pay him." At Roy's blank look he elaborated, "They're sketching Prometheus." Roy pushed the mask back onto the victim's face. "Well, it's up to the doctor, you know. We'll be taking you to Rampart Hospital." The victim looked up at Roy and shook his head. "I'm not that hurt, I really don't need to go to the hospital. Do I?" Roy nodded his head, and glanced at the attendants. "Give him a nice gentle ride, guys." Johnny told Roy he would follow in the squad, and closed the doors. At Rampart, Dr. Early ordered a series of tests and nodded that Roy could leave. He was still calming the professor when the blond paramedic left the treatment room to join his partner and Dixie at the base station. "Hey, Dix, ya all set for Christmas?" "Almost. I still have to get something for Joe and Kel. I'm taking my aunt to the Carson Seniors' Club Charity Bazaar this weekend, maybe I'll find something there. How about you?" "We're trying to buy Jo a hot tub." answered Johnny. "WE are?" questioned Roy. "Yeah, we are. It would be a nice gift for her for Christmas," Johnny answered defensively. "It would be a nice Christmas gift for YOU too, wouldn't it partner?" "Well, it would be for all of us. Dix, don't you think it would be a great gift for all of us?" "Yes, Johnny, it would be great gift for all of you. How are you going to pay for it?" "My question exactly" stated Roy. "Just how are we going to pay for it?" "I'll think of something," replied Johnny The handy talkie beeped for attention. "Squad 51, what is your status?" "Squad 51 available," Johnny answered, then waited for the inevitable call. "Squad 51, woman down, 3622 Post Road, cross street Hacker. Time out 1422." "Squad 51, 10-4." "See ya later, Dix." "Bye, fellas." The two paramedics headed for the double doors at a fast walk. I wonder how they're gonna swing a hot tub, Dixie thought, watching them depart. Knowing Johnny, they will. I just wonder how much it's gonna cost Roy. She shook her head as she started working on the schedule. As the squad pulled up to the address, they saw a group of people standing around the victim, a young woman in her twenties. As the boys got out their equipment, the crowd dispersed. Roy bent down to check the victim, as Johnny got on the biophone. "Rampart base, this is Rescue 51." "Go ahead 51." Kelly Brackett's baritone voice came over the link. "Rampart, we have a female victim, approximate age early twenties. No other information available, please stand by." "I told her not to try that. She's too out of shape, but will she listen to her mother? No! Of course not. Now you see what happens?" A woman in her mid-fifties with a loud strident voice hovered nervously over the young woman who rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Mother, please." The older woman began again waving hands weighted with large flashy rings, "Well, you don't listen to me. They can tell you not to try that kind of stuff." She slapped Roy on the shoulder, "Go on, you tell her! She won't listen to me." "Ma'am, please, what happened here?" Rubbing his shoulder, Roy reluctantly turned to the older woman while Johnny pulled out the bp cuff and stethoscope. He grinned as he counted respirations. "Well, Miss Smartypants decided she could still do the stuff she did in high school when she was a cheerleader. First she does a cartwheel and lands on her duff. Then she tries a backflip. Well, you see what that got her! Thank God she didn't try to jump into the splits!" Johnny winced in sympathy and asked the patient, "Miss, are you in pain?" "What kind of a question is that? Of course she's in pain!" The mother began again to harangue their victim. "Mother, please," the young woman repeated. "Ma'am do you mind? We're trying to help your daughter, and you're interfering with a rescue." "Now look, just who do you think you are? I am this girl's mother and you're not going to tell me what to do." "Ma'am..." started Roy. "Look, I am not moving from here, so you just do whatever it is you do, and hurry it up!" "Mother, please, let the firemen do their jobs!" pleaded the girl. Just then Officer Vince Howard pulled up in his cruiser, and got out. "Johnny, Roy, anything I can help with?" "Hi, Vince, we have a slight problem here. The young lady's mother won't get out of the way so we can treat her daughter," said Johnny in a low voice. "Is that right?" Vince asked. "Ma'am, you have to get back so the paramedics can help your daughter." "Well, I'm not so sure I want them...messing around my daughter. It doesn't look like they know what they're doing. Hey!" she slapped at Johnny, "you watch where you put those hands young man! I can see what's on your mind, and it isn't 'treating' my daughter!" Johnny rubbed his hand where one of the woman's huge rings had cut it as she slapped him. "Vince?" he looked to the officer for help and was not disappointed. "Ma'am, is your daughter over twenty-one?" "What? Well of course she..." "Miss," Vince addressed the patient, "do you have any problem with receiving treatment from the paramedics?" The young woman, caught in the middle, murmured, "No, sir." "Well, then, Johnny, Roy, go ahead. Lady, you can just wait right over here." "This is my property!" the woman raged at Vince. "And they are on MY sidewalk," Vince raised his voice, "so you just move onto your lawn and wait." Johnny smirked, a twinkle in his eye. We can always count on Vince, he thought. Gage took the daughter's bp and relayed the information to Rampart. "Rampart base, this is rescue 51." "Go ahead, 51." answered Dr. Brackett. "Ah, Rampart, we have a female victim, age 21, apparently injured during some gymnastic maneuvers. Vital signs are: B/P 100/60, pulse 100, respirations 20. Rampart, victim is complaining of pain, particularly in her back." "51, start an IV with D5W TKO, follow with 10mg MS IV." "Ah, Rampart, IV D5W TKO, 10mg MS IV. 10-4." Johnny waited for Roy to nod that he'd heard then ran to the squad for the backboard. The ambulance screamed up as he trotted back toward his partner and the victim. Vince seemed to have the overbearing mother well in hand, Johnny noted. "Hi, Malcolm," he greeted the ambulance attendant. "She has a possible spinal injury, so we need to immobilize first." The attendants prepared the gurney as Johnny and Roy swiftly readied the victim for transport. "See ya at Rampart," Johnny said as he closed the ambulance doors and thumped twice. Vince walked over to the junior paramedic still shaking his head. "Man, I'm glad we don't get one like that every day," he said. "That woman called me every name in the book. I would have arrested her for interfering with a rescue, but then I would have had to listen to her all the way to the station. Now she's the ambulance driver's problem." "What did that guy to do you?" Johnny asked, smiling, as he scooted into the driver's seat of the squad. "Man, they're gonna love her at Rampart," Vince commented, chuckling. "Nah, Dix can handle it." With a wave, Johnny roared off. At Rampart, Dixie had the controlled pandemonium in hand, and was in the process of chewing out an orderly when the ambulance backed up to the doors. The attendants opened the doors and pulled the victim out. Her mother was still in the middle of her running monologue when Malcolm looked at Roy, rolling his eyes. "You people better be careful with her, or I'll have your jobs!" Johnny backed the squad up beside the ambulance, and hopped out just in time to be the next target of the woman's vitriol. "YOU! Don't just stand there, give them a hand! I swear, what the county is hiring for personnel these days, leaves a lot to be desired!" Dixie cut short her rebuke of the orderly just in time to hear what the woman said to Johnny. "Excuse me, you're in the way, please move," she said, her tone revealing a complete lack of sympathy with the woman's tirade. Gage heaved a sigh of relief and followed the gurney, and his partner, down the hall. After turning the patient over to Dr. Brackett, the two paramedics gave the base station a wide berth. Dixie, hands on hips, had her hands full with the patient's mother. Johnny smiled sweetly at her, then winced as she returned his look with one that clearly said, I'll get you for this. As they headed for the door, they could see Dixie escorting the woman to the waiting room. "Looks like Dix won," commented Johnny. "Yeah, but she's gonna make us pay for it later," his partner muttered. "Nah, she'll be mad for a bit, then she'll forgive us and things will be back to normal." Roy shook his head, knowing that Dixie would get even with them, one way or another. Johnny chewed on his thumbnail in silent contemplation while Roy stopped the squad for fuel and a couple of sandwiches to replace the lunch they never got. The blond paramedic heaved a sigh. "Johnny, I wish you would forget this hot tub idea." "Why?" Johnny asked, his mind deeply preoccupied with finding some kind of scheme to hatch that would get him the latest object of his desire...and the hot tub to put her in. "Don't you want a place to relax and take the kinks out after a long hard shift?" "I have that now. It's called a bathtub." Johnny frowned. "Yeah, but wouldn't you like to share it with JoAnne?" "Who says I don't?" Roy asked, then blushed. That sort of slipped out. Johnny, abashed, just said, "Huh!". This wasn't going the way he'd hoped. "Pally, I'm tellin' ya, this will be a good investment, and just think, when the station has parties at your house, the tub will be the center of activity, and it will be great to soak in after a hot game of volleyball." "Johnny, there is just no way we can afford that hot tub." "Roy, we'll be able to afford it, all we need to do is find a way to earn three hundred and fifty dollars." "In one week?" The tone of Roy's voice bordered on sarcasm. "You jubst waibt," Johnny said while biting into a sandwich. "I'll fide a way. You'll see." "That's what I'm afraid of," Roy retorted before taking a bite of his own sandwich. He made a face. "This is awful." Johnny stopped chewing long enough to wrinkle his nose. "Yuck! You're right. What is it?" "It's supposed to be chicken salad." Johnny spit his half eaten bite out into the bag. "I think it should be called the 'Ptomaine Special'. Maybe there's some cookies left at the station." "No," came the reply, "you finished them off before we left on that first call." "Oh," came the disappointed reply. They pulled into the station and found the rest of the guys gathered just outside the kitchen door. Angry voices echoed through the bay. "It's addressed to Gage!" Marco declared. "Yeah, but she liked me too," Chester B whined. "Gage is here now," Stoker commented. "Gage, Mrs. Peterson's cookies are here." "And not a moment too soon," commented Roy as he snatched the box out of Marco's hands. "HEY!" Marco shouted. "Roy, do you mind? It IS addressed to me, ya know." "I know, but I'm hungry." "Then get something to eat," said Cap. "There's nothing here to eat, and the sandwiches we stopped to get were terrible," answered Roy. "Yeah." agreed Johnny. "And they tasted bad too." Cap rolled his eyes, and headed back to his office. "Just save me some cookies, willya?" he threw back over his shoulder. The crew gathered around Johnny as he opened his package from Ozella Peterson, the nurse whose little clinic they invaded during one of their fishing trips. After stopping to assist at an accident, they went to the clinic for help. Later, when Johnny was bitten by a rattlesnake and wound up in the hospital, Mrs. Peterson showed up with a box of cookies. The first of her cookies were eaten there, and every Christmas thereafter, a box of chocolate chip cookies arrived at Station 51 without fail. "Mmm," Roy commented, his mouth full of sweet, chewy cookie. "This is worth waiting a year for." Johnny poured a glass of milk to go with his mouthful-in-progress and nodded agreement. "Hey, don't hog 'em," Chet whined and reached into the box, withdrawing a fistful of cookies. "Ouch!" "Chet, save some for everybody else." His hand stinging from a hard slap, Chet dropped all but two cookies and retreated to the couch, grousing about 'so-called friends'. Marco Lopez examined his cookie before biting into the edge. "Hey, Roy, John, what are you gonna do with your Christmas off?" "Well, we're gonna install that hot tub, and...." "And nothing, Johnny, we can't afford it! How many times do I have to tell you, it's not gonna happen!" "But Roy..." The tones drowned out Roy's retort. "Squad 51, man trapped in chimney, 9800 Bensonhurst Lane, Nine-Eight-Zero-Zero Bensonhurst Lane, cross street, Davis. Time out: 16:55." As Johnny ran to the squad, he spied Chet sneaking back toward the cookie box. "Kelly, you eat all those and I'll break your arm!" "C'mon Junior, there's a guy in a chimney waiting for us." "Yeah," Johnny groused, "but he isn't goin' anywhere, and I'll just bet those cookies are!" The engine ended up responding with Squad 51 when the gentleman in the chimney refused to budge despite the paramedics' best efforts. Dismantling the chimney took the best part of three hours, by which time Johnny and Roy resembled two soot monsters. As they walked down the corridor at Rampart, Roy thought about how good that hot tub would feel about now. Maybe Johnny is right, he thought. Maybe JoAnne really would go for it. It would sure make playing 'Frogman and Mermaid' a lot easier...and more fun. "Okay," he said suddenly, smiling at his partner. "Okay what?" Johnny opened weary eyes, his chin resting on palms propped on the base station desk. "Okay, we'll get the hot tub...if we can find the money." Johnny perked up immediately. "Well, all right, partner." He slapped Roy on the shoulder, raising a cloud of soot. "Now you're talkin'." "Johnny, you're getting soot all over the counter," Joe Early, the kindly gentle-mannered doctor admonished. "Sorry Doc. We just rescued Santa from a chimney." "Really? Isn't it a little early for Santa?" "Hey Doc, you still don't believe in Santa, do ya?" Johnny grinned. "I believe in the Spirit of Christmas, Johnny, and you're never too old for that." Roy rolled his eyes. "Come on, partner, let's go get cleaned up." "See ya, Doc." "Bye, guys." Early watched them walk down the corridor, and smiled. Johnny is just like an overgrown puppy at times, and Roy certainly has his hands full trying to keep his partner reigned in. Time to get back to work, he thought. "Hey, who's cookin' dinner tonight?" Johnny asked Roy as they climbed into the squad. The cookies made only a slight dent in their appetites. "I think Stoker's on for tonight," Roy answered him. "But don't get your hopes up. I heard the engine called out again on a 3-alarm while you were in the bathroom." "Oh, man, that figures. My stomach is starting to think my throat's been cut." "That's an old joke, partner." "Yeah, but it still fits." "Just make us available, Johnny." "L.A., Squad 51 available." The grouchy admission was met with, "Squad 51, stand by for response. Squad 51, man trapped at the Community College, Ford and Dover. Ford and Dover. Time out: 19:42." "Squad 51, 10-4. Man, Roy, not another chimney. If I see one more big red butt in a small space, I'm gonna..." "Relax, Junior, it's at the college. I don't think they have fireplaces." " Yeah, but knowing college students, they've probably gotten themselves trapped in some stupid thing, and now they expect us to get them out." Roy shook his head, and kept silent. It would do no good to tell Johnny that that is what the County pays us for. As they pulled up to the college, they saw a crowd of students gathered around the door to a building. They could hear shouting from one of the windows, and the door. One of the voices sounded familiar. "....Now don't worry, the fire department is great, man. They got a guy out of one of my sculptures, and he was fine, so relax, willya?" Roy and Johnny exchanged glances. They knew that voice. They remembered the circumstances of that particular rescue. "What was I telling you, Roy? We're doomed!" Following the voice down the hall where they knew disaster awaited, the paramedics wondered what hair-brained scheme Gloria Livingston had come up with this time. Last time it was plaster and glue. This time exceeded their expectations. A man, naked but for a loincloth, huddled on a pedistal wrapped in rusty chains secured by several padlocks. The grimace on the man's face was enough to evoke pity in the hardest heart. "Uh...what's happened?" "Oh, hi, fellas! I can't find the keys to the locks," Gloria Livingston, substitute art teacher and erstwhile sculptress explained. "Why didn't you call a locksmith?" Johnny asked. Exasperated, she exclaimed, "I did! But can you believe it, he said, 'Ma'am, I don't have anything that will fit any of these locks.' Can you believe it?" Examining the rusty padlocks, Roy could well believe the statement. "These look pretty old," he ventured. "Yeah, I got 'em at an antique store. They were in a big box with a bunch of keys, all for five dollars. But none of the keys will fit the locks." The victim, obviously a body builder, shivered. "Could ya hurry, please? I'm cramping here, and it's getting cold." "How about a blanket?" asked Johnny. "That would be great." replied the man. "I can't believe I got talked into this for a hundred and seventy-five dollars, 'cause, man, it's not worth it." Johnny's head snapped up. "You're getting a hundred and seventy-five dollars to do this?" "Yeah man, I thought it was a good gig...until this happened." Roy decided bolt cutters would probably work and ran to the squad for them. He also rooted through the tool compartment for a hack saw and grabbed a blanket while he was there. Returning to the classroom, he found his partner in the middle of a discussion with the victim. "Man oh man, a hundred and seventy-five dollars? Just to pose for an art class? That's incredible!" Roy listened in dismay as Johnny's face lit up, the wheels turning, plots hatching. "Well how did you get this gig? What do you have to do?" "Look, I'll be glad to tell you all about it," the man said, his teeth beginning to chatter, "but can you get me out of here first?" "Relax, man. My partner and I get people unstuck all the time. This will be a piece of cake." Roy walked in and handed Johnny the bolt cutters. Gage lifted the heavy cutters with one hand, and the assorted female students oohed and ahhed. Roy shooked his head. Junior would do anything to impress the ladies. With a sure hand, Johnny cut through several links, causing the chains to drop off the hapless "Prometheus". Johnny grinned at the appreciative smiles from the ladies around him. The grin faded as he realized they were, in fact, gazing at the model who now unfolded himself into six feet four inches of muscle-bound hunk. Johnny looked at the man's huge biceps and then at his own lean specimens. "Well...I'm skinny, but I'm tough!" he muttered. "Hey, buddy," the model said, teeth chattering, "can I use that blanket?" Gage's grin reappeared at the goosebumps that detracted somewhat from the man's physique, and handed him the blanket. "Hey!" one of the male students exclaimed, "just how am I supposed to finish 'Prometheus' now?" "T-that's y-your p-problem, p-pal," the model retorted. "I'm outta here." The scantily clad man made a beeline for the door, Johnny in his wake. "Wait up, I've got a couple of questions for ya..." Roy retrieved their equipment to the running commentary of Ms. Livingston. "I have to pay that guy money and look at this. The chains are ruined, the students didn't get to finish their project. How am I going to explain this to the professor?" "You do seem to have a problem," Roy commiserated. Johnny re-entered the room, his eyes sparkling. "Roy, that guy says all we have to do is ask for the next gig..." "No." "...and we can get $175 apiece just for standing in one place for three hours." "No." "But, Roy..." "Look, Johnny, I am not gonna do this "Prometheus in Chains" thing, it's too weird." "But...." "Johnny, it's not gonna happen!" "Rooooy....." Johnny looked at his partner with his big brown puppy dog eyes. Roy's shoulders slumped. He knew the minute he looked at his partner, he was lost. No one, not even the esteemed Dr. Kelly Brackett could resist Johnny when he looked like that. He sighed. "Alright, Johnny, let's hear it." Johnny's eyes lit up, and his famous crooked grin took its place on his handsome face. "This is gonna be good, Pally, just you wait and see." "Do I have a choice?" Roy handed Johnny the bolt cutters and the junior paramedic returned them to the proper compartment in the squad. "We don't have to be in chains, Roy. The next pose is for 'Romulus and Remus'. We just have to pose together." "Pose together how?" Johnny shrugged, "I don't know. But the guy said there were no chains involved." ************************* "Johnny, I don't know how I let you talk me into these things." Roy and Johnny posed on the pedestal, only their lips moving, since their faces were not to be used. "This is a lesson in form," the professor explained. "The students will become acquainted with the positions of the limbs, the curves and angles. They aren't interested in your faces." Johnny tried not to squirm. He stood on the carpeted pedestal while Roy, at his side, was on one knee. "Fifteen minutes more, Pally, and we'll have enough for the hot tub." "Fifteen more minutes, Junior, and I'll be ready for traction." "Just keep thinking about the hot tub, Pally, and how good it will feel to soak in it. It'll be great, and just think about how excited JoAnne will be to get in it too. Did you tell her about this?" "No, and I don't plan to either. This just between you and me." "And a room full of students," snickered Johnny. He caught the eye of one of the girls, a buxom blonde and gave her one of his killer grins. She smiled and waved at him. "Just keep your mind on what we're doing here, partner. We don't need any distractions," instructed Roy. "Well, maybe YOU don't, but I kinda like the distractions around here," Johnny informed him. Roy alternately blushed and turned pale, first reddening at the realization that the fake fur "costume" left little to the imagination, and then quaking at the thought of what his crew mates would say about this. Johnny stood seemingly uncaring about the room full of art students busily sketching their models...two firemen in an advanced state of undress. "Johnny," Roy whispered, "I think this costume has fleas." Johnny snickered. "How can fake fur have fleas? It's just your imagination. Would you relax?" "I can't relax, I'm itching." "You can't scratch, you have to stay still. Think of something else to keep your mind off the itching." This instantly set Roy up for the thought of what JoAnne would do if she found out about this. He thought back to that morning, when he told his wife that he and Johnny had taken on a little "project" to earn some extra money for Christmas. She smiled, and said, "As long as it isn't illegal, immoral, or unethical, it's okay." What would she think of me in front of a room full of coeds, wearing little more than a fig leaf? It's a good thing she can't see me right now...or Johnny! The thought of his wife seeing his partner in this advanced state of undress made him feel a little sick to his stomach. Roy watched the professor make the rounds of his students, offering a hint here, a tip there. Suddenly he saw the man stop and stiffen. "Ms Livingston!" he shouted, outraged, "I said form only; no faces!" "But I already had the 'forms'," she protested. "You cannot keep this," the teacher insisted. "It violates our agreement. You have to change the faces before that canvas can leave the classroom." Johnny looked uneasily at his partner. I thought I saw her face peeking around from behind that easel. "Partner," he told his uneasy friend, "I think I need a break." Johnny stepped down from the pedestal and strode over to the professor and Gloria Livingston. He looked pointedly at the canvas and gasped in horror. Gloria's canvas held a painting of two very muscular men in poses similar to the ones he and Roy held all evening, but totally unclad. The men's bodies also had his and Roy's faces. "B-b-but that's not us!" Johnny sputtered. "You can say that again," Gloria grinned evilly. "Oh don't worry, I'll paint over it later. Class is almost over anyway." Roy walked over to the easel, and his eyes grew very large at the sight of the painting. His jaw dropped, and his face got red. "What is this?" he cried. "That's not us!" He glared at Johnny. "What have you gotten us into? My wife is gonna kill me!" Gloria gave him a look, and then said, "What's your problem, handsome? I just enhanced your features, that's all." "Me?" Johnny splayed one hand on his chest in protest, ignoring Gloria Livingston as he addressed his partner. "All I wanted to do was earn some extra money for the hot tub. I didn't know this was gonna happen." Johnny was upset to think that Roy blamed him for this latest fiasco. "Gentlemen, please, I assure you Ms. Livingston will obliterate your faces from this...this painting. I refuse to call it art. All the other students did as instructed...form only. I can assure you, this picture will never see the light of day! Am I right, Ms. Livingston?" "Yeah, I guess so," she said reluctantly. "These no-guts fascists can't appreciate what I did for 'em anyway." Gloria Livingston plucked the canvas from the easel and tucked it into a cubbyhole in the corner of the classroom, then put away her supplies, retrieved her purse, and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Johnny let out a sigh of relief and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "See, Roy, I told you it would be all right." "I think you gentlemen can go now," the professor said, mopping his brow. "I'll write your checks while you get dressed." Johnny and Roy headed for the dressing room to change, and when they came out, the professor handed them each a check. "I want to thank you for coming tonight, and for being so patient where Ms. Liivngston is concerned." "Well, sir, we're already acquainted with Ms. Livingston; we've had to rescue people from some of her art projects." explained Roy. "Yeah, and at least this time she didn't use plaster and glue," laughed Johnny. The professor shook his head, gathered his things and left. ************************* Roy walked into the dayroom, still uneasy at the thought of what he had done to earn the one hundred and seventy-five dollars that sat heavily in his wallet, waiting to pay for the hot tub. Johnny breezed in, donut in hand, whistling a carol more than slightly off-key. "Mornin' Roy!" he greeted his partner. "I called Renee Fishburn this morning and she's agreed to have the hot tub delivered to your house Christmas Eve day. Talk about service! Man, I can't wait. This is gonna be a Christmas to remember." Unsure whether or not to forgive Johnny, Roy just gave him a noncommittal, "Yeah." The day ran light, as far as rescues, and seemed to pass slowly. Johnny tinkered beneath the squad while Roy polished the chrome and mirrors. The jingling of the telephone interrupted the relative peace of the station. The paramedics could hear Marco answer. "Station 51, Fireman Lopez speaking...yes, they're both here...just a minute. Hey, Roy or Johnny, phone!" Roy hurried to answer, Johnny trotting behind. "Hello? Oh, hi professor, is there some...what? What? You're kidding! What! You'd better. Where? Right now? We're on our way!" "What is it," Johnny asked. "What happened?" "Gloria's painting was taken to a gallery for display this morning by mistake." "What? Where?" Chet and Marco exchanged glances, Chet smelling a way to get Gage's goat. "What is going on, you two?" "Nothing," the paramedics answered simultaneously. "Come on Gage, there's something going on and you guys are at the center of it. Come on, give." "CHET! It's none of your business! And if you don't want a punch in the nose, you'll drop this right now!" Both Chet and Marco took a step back. They'd never seen Roy so angry. Johnny looked at his partner with awe. He hadn't seen Roy like this in a long time. Now was not the time to interfere. He took Roy's arm and steered him to the Squad. As Cap exited the locker room, John stepped up and told him that they had something important to deal with, and that they would stay available. Cap nodded his head, and the squad headed out the bay door. At the "Starving Artists Gallery" the professor paced nervously awaiting the arrival of the firemen. When the squad pulled up to the curb, the proprietor hurried to meet them at the door. "Is there a problem?" he asked, eyeing the bright red county vehicle double-parked at the curb. "These gentlemen are here to see me," the professor said with a show of dignity. The proprietor pointed to the squad, "Did they have to come here in that? My customers will think there's a fire." "Look, I'm sorry about that," Roy began, "we'll be leaving when we've..." He broke off as the professor shook his head sadly. "It's too late. The painting already sold." "You're kidding!" Johnny exclaimed. "To who?" Roy demanded. The owner of the gallery looked at the stack of sales slips in his hands. He located the one for the painting described by the professor in a whispered voice, colored darkly and nodded. "I must say, we don't handle that kind of painting as a rule, but it did seem to be very popular." The owner glanced at the bill of sale and then looked up at Roy and John. "This is highly irregular, we don't normally give out this information..." "Look, pal, if you don't give me that information, you're gonna need my services. Do I make myself clear?" Roy's eyes were blazing. "Perfectly, sir. Ahem, the item in question was sold to a Mrs. Lucille Houts." Johnny grabbed his head. This was just getting better and better. Of all people! "MRS. HOUTS? As in Chief Houts of the LA County Fire Department? That's it, we've had it!" shouted Roy. The owner stared at the two firemen as if they'd come from a different planet. Then he looked more closely at their faces. "Oh, my, you don't look at all like..." "Don't finish it, buddy, or I'll give ya a purge," Johnny warned. "Did she seem to uhm...er...recognize anybody in the picture?" Roy asked. "Well, she was amused by the title ...it was called 'Firemen Revealed'. Then she sort of gasped and pulled out a handkerchief and held it to her eyes. I thought she was upset at first, but ...ahem...she was laughing." "Partner," Johnny said morosely, "do you think they have any openings for paramedics in Seattle?" "No, believe me, if they did, I'd apply," answered Roy. He looked at the owner. "Sir, do you have the address?" "I am not allowed to give out that kind of information..." He took a step back as both paramedics approached him with murder in their eyes. "Here you are, sir, the address." Grabbing it from the owner, Roy turned and ran for the squad, Johnny fast on his heels. "How are we gonna get ahold of Mrs. Houts without anyone finding out?" "I don't know, Johnny, but we have to. If that painting gets seen by anyone, our goose is cooked, but good." Johnny read the address and directed Roy to the Chief's house. As they rolled up to the curb, the front door opened and Lucy Houts stepped out onto the front porch. A wide smile on her face, she beckoned with a motion of her hand. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," Lucy said, a twinkle in her eyes. "I've been expecting you." "Uh, Mrs. Houts, there's been a mistake. That painting was not intended for sale." "Yeah, in fact, it wasn't supposed to happen at all," Johnny added emphatically. "So we would appreciate it if you could see your way clear to letting us take it back to the gallery and getting your money back." Lucy appeared to deliberate, then smiled broadly. "On one condition, boys. I'm in need of volunteers for the Carson Seniors' Club Charity Bazaar this coming weekend. I'll hang on to the painting until after the bazaar, and then you can take it back. "Mrs. Houts, this sounds like blackmail to me," stated Roy. "My dear boy, of course it is. How else am I going to get volunteers for the bazaar?" She smirked. Lucy glanced at Johnny, who stared at her like he'd never seen her before. "And you both will be willing volunteers, won't you? I hope so; my husband has always had nothing but the highest praise for you paramedics. He is so impressed with all that you do." Johnny gulped, and then answered, "Yes ma'am. We'd be happy to volunteer for your bazaar, wouldn't we, partner?" He looked at Roy, whose face was a mask. "Yes, we'd be real happy to volunteer for the bazaar, Mrs. Houts." ************************* Dixie walked through the booths of the bazaar with her aunt. She picked up a potholder here, some slippers there, glanced at little critters made of walnut shells and purchased one with a wire stethoscope attached...a nutty physician. I know the perfect person to give that to. As she walked into the framed art section she paused to look at some 'modern art' paintings. Not her cup of tea. Auntie turned up her nose primly at the bright splashes of paint and geometric shapes. Then her eyes lit up and she elbowed Dixie sharply in the ribs. "Now that, Dixie girl, is art!" The nurse, amused, followed the gnarled finger pointing to a large canvas and gasped. Johnny massaged tired feet from a folding chair beneath the sign that said "Dollar A Dance". Why did I ever agree to this? I've seen some of these old gals two and three times. I wonder how Roy is making out at the Kissing Booth. Gage grinned, maybe 'making out' isn't the best choice of words. Most of my customers are in their seventies. He smiled half-heartedly as a large lady waved a dollar bill in the air and beckoned to him. She seemed to be trying to flirt. As the music started Johnny spotted a lively group headed his direction, poking each other in the ribs and whispering. He yelped as his dance partner's hands started to roam. "Hey! Cut it out!" Roy, up to his elbows in little old ladies, tried to smile. For every one that wanted a kiss, there was an equal number that wanted to pinch his other set of cheeks. I've been kissed and pinched so much I feel like a pincushion. Not only did they kiss me once, several came back for more. The senior paramedic tried to keep a good attitude, but inwardly, he was seething. I wonder how Johnny is doing at the Dollar A Dance Booth. I hope Junior is as miserable as I am. Serves him right, for getting me involved in this mess to begin with. I hope he remembers this for a long time to come. Maybe it will teach him to think before he gets me involved in his hairbrained schemes. "Lucy!" Elvira Maitland waddled over to appraise her co-chair of the bazaar's progress. Lucy, busily arranging a selection of beaded and feathered jewelry, turned with a weary smile. "Vi, how are we doing?" "Oh, Lucy, that Kissing Booth and the Dollar Dance with the handsome firemen were positively INSPIRED. We're raking in dough like you wouldn't believe. They're easily the most popular booths at the bazaar. The ladies are positively flocking there, especially after they've seen the painting." "Painting? What painting?" Lucy asked uneasily. "Why the one your daughter sent over this morning. She said you must have forgotten it." Lucy put one hand to her throat. There was only one painting Vi could posibly be describing. "Lu? Are you all right?" "Vi, we must get that painting out of the sale, I promised those firemen it would not be put on display." She rushed over to the booth where the framed paintings were displayed for sale. To her horror, she discovered that it had been sold. "...And Lucy, you wouldn't believe the price the young woman paid for it. She said that she had the perfect spot for it, and she said that she had a special appreciation for firemen. What do you suppose she meant by that?" asked Vera, the lady manning the booth. "I'm not sure, Vera, but I hope she enjoys the painting," Mrs. Houts said weakly. "Lu, you don't look good," Vi exclaimed. "Here, sit down under the awning. Vera, those two firemen are paramedics. Go fetch them here. I'm afraid poor Lucy is going to be ill." "No!" Lucy gasped at Vera's back as the younger woman headed for the Kissing Booth at a dead run. "Oh, no," Lucy said miserably. "When Chief finds out about this he'll be absolutely furious." "Lucy, you're babbling, dear. What's the matter?" Roy and Johnny dodged displays and threaded their way through the crowds until they finally reached the Fine Art booth. Mrs. Houts, seated in the shade, her skin tinged a sickly green, moaned and rolled her head. "Mrs. Houts? Are you all right?" "S-sold!" she gasped. "What?" Johnny reached for her wrist. "I think she said 'so old'. Lucy hon, you're not old. Why dear, you're two years younger than me." "No," moaned Lucy, "I said 'sold'. That painting is sold." "Mrs. Houts," Johnny glanced at Roy who proceeded to turn as green as their patient, "you don't mean OUR painting?" Miserably the Chief's wife nodded. "Oooohhhhh man, oh no! How did that happen?" "My daughter brought it over by mistake, and it got put in the sale." Roy groaned. "What are you boys so upset for? We got a good price for it, and every little bit helps," Vera said brightly. "I feel badly for letting this happen, boys, but there isn't alot I can do to get it back, since we don't know who purchased it." Lucy told them. "I can try to find out, but...." "No, that's okay, Mrs. Houts, we'll just have to live with it," answered Roy. "Oh man, I hope it was nobody we know," Johnny said. "Well, I think you boys deserve a round of applause," Elvira Maitland said to the crowd at large, now consisting of about fifteen ladies. You two have single-handedly raised almost three-fourths of the proceeds of this bazaar. The seniors of Carson can truly look up to you as their heroes." "Yeah, let's put them on a pedestal," one older woman cracked, "they look pretty good up there." Snickers erupted from the group surrounding the paramedics as both men blushed bright red. "Seriously, boys, I think least said, soonest mended. I won't tell the Chief you posed if...if you work our next charity bazaar." Roy started to protest. "It's a deal, Mrs. Houts," Johnny said quickly. "Roy," he said in an undertone, "he'll forgive her. We're not married to him." Roy appeared unready to capitulate. Johnny, for once the reasonable one, put a hand on his partner's chest to forestall any argument. "Roy, she's got us over a barrel. If we don't work the bazaar, she's gonna tell the Chief, and then he'll tell McConnike, and HE'LL tell Cap. You know what Cap is like when McConnike gets on his case." "Well, what about the woman I'M married to?" Roy asked, pointing emphatically at his chest. "Oh, yes," Mrs. Houts said coolly, "How is JoAnne?" Realizing that not only could Mrs. Houts tell the Chief, she also knew his wife, Roy's shoulders sagged. He nodded his head sadly. "We'll be happy to work the next bazaar, ma'am. Just let us know when and where." ************************* Captain Stanley looked at the steam rising from the hot tub on Roy's deck with a mixture of admiration and envy. "Hey, how did you guys come up with the money for this thing?" Roy and Johnny looked at each other uneasily... "...Ah, well, Cap, we did a few odd jobs here and there," answered Roy. "Mostly there," added Johnny. Dixie smirked. "You boys are certainly endowed ...with a lot of talent." Johnny blushed and looked down. Roy's ears turned as red as his face. Joanne came over and linked her arm through Roy's. "I've always said he's very talented." "He certainly is," answered Dixie. "He certainly is." Dixie couldn't know about our little...er exposure to the art community, could she? Johnny wondered. Nah, that's impossible. "Oh, Roy," Joanne touched his arm, "there's a Christmas card here for you. It's from Mrs. Houts. Odd, there's one for Johnny as well. Why did it come here? Roy?...Roy! are you all right?" Roy's red face suddenly paled to ashen. Mrs. Houts promised to keep that painting a secret! Roy watched helplessly as Joanne opened the card. Johnny looked on in near panic. "That's odd," Joanne commented. "It isn't really a Christmas card. In fact, it's a picture of a nude statue with a date written beneath it, 'February 14th'. How very strange. What can Lucy mean by this?" "It means we just volunteered to work the Carson Senior's Valentine's Day Bazaar," Johnny mumbled. "That's nice, Johnny. I am so glad that you and Roy are willing to work for the Seniors." said Joanne. Johnny just gulped, and nodded. Roy looked positively miserable. "Really? How nice of you both to volunteer like that," Cap agreed. "More of my crew should do that, especially since it makes the Captain look good for the brass." "Brown noser, Gage," sneered Chet. "If it's for a good cause, I might pitch in," Marco commented. "NO!" Johnny almost yelled. "That is, I think Mrs. Houts has plenty of volunteers lined up. She certainly has a unique way of recruiting." Johnny let his breath out in an "oooff" as Roy's elbow dug into his partner's mid-section. Roy struggled to swallow and plastered a sickly smile on his face, remembering the kissing booth and the endless line of little old ladies bent on giving him a smack on the lips. Chet poked Johnny in the ribs. "How DID she recruit you guys, anyway? Something's awfully fishy here." "She has her ways," Gage replied. He whispered to Roy, "I don't believe this." "You? Next time, partner, you can see a thousand sets of false teeth come at you." "That can't be as bad as having to dance with the old broads a hundred times an hour. I had my toes stepped on so many times, I couldn't walk for two days!" "Pleasant memories, boys?" Dixie approached with a glass of eggnog that smelled heavy on the "nog". "Mrs. Houts sure does a good job with her bazaar, doesn't she? I personally liked the Fine Arts booth. There were some great deals...real art pieces...up for sale." Johnny turned around, his eyes wide with alarm. "Ah, Dix, you didn't happen to see any unusual paintings, didja?" This was too good. "Unusual in what way, Johnny?" She was more than willing to let him squirm. "Well, ah, just unusual, that's all. Nothing, um... ah... special. Just unusual, that's all." He gulped. "Well, there was one painting. It had an interesting view of ...um firemen and their equipment; nothing I haven't seen before, though." Roy suddenly tipped his glass back to take a huge swallow, forgetting how potent he'd made the holiday "cheer". Joanne pounded her husband on the back for all she was worth as he choked. Tears streaming down his eyes, his face as red as the sweater he wore, Roy presented a picture of misery. Dixie decided that it was a night for mercy. "Roy, the person who bought that picture appeared to be an ardent admirer of the fire department. She told me that she was going to put it in a special place, and she wants to be the only one who gets to see it." "Really?" Roy gasped. "Really. I know this person quite well, and she's a woman of her word." Dixie answered. "Dix, I don't suppose you could convince her to burn that picture could you?" "I don't think so, Johnny." Dixie looked thoughtful, then smiled, "After all, she paid three hundred dollars for it." Both men paled. "Three...." "...hundred dollars," Dixie confirmed. Dixie thought about the painting, now in a huge brass frame, hanging in her bedroom. For a touch of whimsy, while decorating her apartment she'd taped two large silk poinsettias in strategic places for a festive touch. Burn it? Hah! A sudden stillness in the room brought all eyes to the doorway where Chet Kelly appeared in swimming trunks, one hand behind his back, clutching a hidden object. "Chet, how far did you have to chase that clown to steal his trunks?" demanded Johnny, smirking. Chet sported bright green swim trunks with a pattern of pink hibiscus. "Gage, you wouldn't know fashion if it came up and bit ya in the butt," replied Chet. "What did it do to you, take over your body?" "I'll have you know that the saleslady said that these were chick." "Chic, that's chic, Kelly." "Yeah, yeah, whatever. We gonna get in this thing or not? I brought a friend along to help christen it." He pulled the rubber ducky he had been holding from behind his back. Johnny turned his head to hide the wide grin at the silly looking Chet Kelly holding the sillier looking yellow rubber duck. He was unprepared then, when Chet strode across the room through the sliding glass doors onto the deck and cannonballed into the hot tub, soaking everyone within five feet...including one John Gage. JoAnne looked in horror at her now-soaked carpet and wet shoes. With an outraged cry, Johnny jumped into the tub after Chet, clothes and all, intent on "ducking" the Irishman. Chet hopped out and took off across the lawn, Johnny right behind him, at full speed. Hank Stanley put down his glass of eggnog and wandered over to the door to watch. "Twits," Roy heard their captain remark before breaking into loud laughter. "Merry Christmas, honey." JoAnne, recovering her holiday cheer and sense of humor, held a piece of mistletoe over her head and smiled brightly at her spouse. Roy bent down to give her a kiss. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart." Their guests looked on affectionately as the host and hostess indulged in the moment. "Kelly! I'm gonna kill you!" came the cry from the back yard that echoed through the neighborhood. "And to all a good night," Cap said with a wink as he held out his glass to toast the season with a very happy, slightly tipsy Dixie McCall. Glasses clinked throughout the room as the others took up the toast. "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" "Gaaaaaaage! Noooooo!" THE END Min and I would like to wish Happy Holidays and a Joyous New Year to the readers at Johnny's Green Pen, and especially to our gracious hostess. ~Nexxie Feedback for Nexxie & Min Editor's note:  take a close look at the picture ;-) return to main menu .