Reaching Out A different version of "The Indirect Method" By Jamie Simmons "You consider me the young apprentice Caught between the Scylla and Charybdis …" -Wrapped around your finger, Sting Dr. Joe Early, a neurosurgeon at Rampart General Hospital who reminded people of Father Time only with short hair and no beard, entered Rampart's second floor meeting room then handed the final grade for the paramedic program's classroom phase to the twelve students. Breathless from anticipation, each student opened his paper. A flurry of activity followed as outbursts of joy mingled with sighs of relief as the students congratulated each other. "All right class, though you have officially passed this phase, at least give me a chance to offer all of you praise on a job well done. You'll find your station assignment for the training period also on the document with the date and time to report." The sound level dropped as the students read the rest of the information on their piece of paper. "I realize that since several of you are firefighters already assigned to a station, you had hoped to complete your training period there and are now reading that's not the case. The people in charge of the paramedic program feel that, for obvious reasons, a trainee should not work in a familiar working environment during the training program." Dr. Early smiled. "Since I have nothing further to add, class is 'officially' dismissed." He left the room and the students began to depart, until only four students remained in the classroom. "So where are you going?" A broad-shouldered male classmate asked a student, who was still studying the piece of paper Dr. Early had passed out. The female student looked up from the piece of paper she held in her hands and smiled. "Station 51. A-shift." "They work tomorrow. They're a great bunch of guys," commented the second male student who had curly dark hair. "I hope they're easy to get along with." She drew her teeth across her lower lip, reflecting the uncertain tone of her voice. "Don't worry, you'll like them," replied the third male student with flaming red hair. "You handled us without any problems, so what could go wrong? Besides, your supervisors, John Gage and Roy DeSoto, are the best in the biz. You're lucky to have them to work under," he said, following the others into the wide hospital hallway. "Thanks, guys. Well, time for me to go to work." The young woman watched as the three men walked toward the elevator laughing and joking. They stopped then turned her way to raise a hand in farewell. She returned their gesture, missing the easy rapport she used to have with men and wondering if she'd ever feel totally at ease around them again. She had started to relax somewhat around her male classmates by the end of the course, but she just couldn't seem to completely let down her guard. "Hey, Ellen!" Abandoning her wistful thoughts, she turned around at the sound of her name and smiled at the man and woman approaching her. "So where are you going?" asked Dixie McCall, Rampart's blond Head Nurse. "Now wait a minute, Dix. First, she has to tell us whether she passed or not," stated Dr. Kelly Brackett, Rampart's ruggedly handsome Chief of Emergency Medicine. Ellen laughed. "Come on, you two. Why should I waste my breath telling you something that you already know? But I'll humor you. I passed. Friday, I'll be at Station 51, under …" She glanced at her paper. " John Gage and Roy DeSoto." "Congratulations. They're two of the best paramedics we've ever trained," Dr. Brackett said. "That's what I was told. Anything else you two want to know?" Ellen waited for more questions then grinned when they didn't come. "Well, what time am I supposed to show up in the staff lounge?" "How did you find out?" Dixie asked. "Joe Early told you, didn't he? Or was it Mike Morton?" Trying to keep a straight face, Ellen stole a glance at Dr. Brackett. "Kel Brackett, I could-" Dixie stopped. Ellen Ferguson, one of her nurses at Rampart for two and a half years, was laughing. "Just for that, Ellen, I'm of a mind to cancel your surprise party." Laughing, the three of them headed for the staff lounge. Ten minutes later they were seated alone at the small table, the congratulations said by several co-workers and the small cake devoured. "Congratulations, Ellen." Dr. Brackett raised his mug filled with coffee. "To the first soon-to-be female paramedic in Los Angeles." "Hear, hear," Dixie added. She and Ellen lifted their mugs then the three of them clinked and drank. "Thanks, but I still have a long way to go. The hardest part of the program, in fact: working in the field." Dixie glanced at Kel. "True. Are you sure you want to do this?" Though proud of all that her nurse had accomplished since they'd met, she still wondered that Ellen might not really be ready to handle life at a fire station in such close proximity to men. Ellen raised her eyebrows in surprise, causing her forehead to wrinkle. "What gives, Dix? You plan this celebration then sound as if you don't want me to finish the program." "She didn't mean it that way," Dr. Brackett explained, deciding the direct approach would be the best way to get their point across. "We're just wondering how you're going to handle being the only woman at a fire station, not to mention living with the firefighters. Have you even considered their reaction to you trying to become a paramedic?" The nurse nodded. "I figure at first I'll get the same looks and comments that I did from my classmates. I'll just treat the men with dignity and respect and that should be that." "Ellen, that worked with your classmates, but this situation will be different. You'll be living with these men for one day out of three for two months. They'll be curious about you." Dixie saw by Ellen's puzzled expression she wasn't getting through and sent an appealing look toward Kel, hoping he could make her nurse understand what she would be facing. Dr. Brackett didn't mince words. "You're pretty, Ellen. Most of the men at 51's are single. What will you do when someone asks you out?" Ellen's cheeks colored slightly at Dr. Brackett's reference to her appearance, but didn't hesitate with her answer. "If one of the men should ask me out, I'll respectfully decline like I always do." She turned to Dixie. "Besides, enough firemen and paramedics have tried to date me only to be turned down. The word's out, so I won't be bothered." "Well, you don't have to act so complacent about not dating." Dixie frowned, remembering how much her nurse had changed since their meeting in the spring of 1973. Ellen had started working at Rampart as a student nurse as part of a senior nursing course at UCLA. It hadn't taken Dixie and Kel long to be impressed. Her calming presence, cheerful openness and sense of humor had ingratiated herself with patients and hospital personnel alike. Then a month later, Ellen had been injured in an attack on her best friend and roommate when she had attempted to stop the rapist from fleeing their apartment. Her physical injuries had healed, but the emotional wounds wrought by mitigating circumstances had caught her in a downward spiral that had left unhealed scars. Yet, Ellen had retained her professionalism and compassion for the patients and had even managed to graduate with honors, moving into a nursing position immediately thereafter. Dixie realized that after two and a half years, Ellen had managed to overcome the worst of her fear, but she seemed unable to take the next step and allow men to show a personal interest in her. She remained quiet though polite whenever a man would approach her, always keeping her distance.  Dr. Brackett watched Ellen's reactions to the conversation, the memories of her ordeal crowding in upon him. He could feel her discomfort at his reference to her looks and saw her growing anger at Dixie's comment about dating. Though the young woman had slowly begun to emerge from the protective shell she'd erected around herself, her inability to understand what the fieldwork portion entailed caused him to wonder if more harm might be done than good, even though he had implicit trust in Fifty-one's A-shift. To complicate matters, Ellen was the perfect test candidate to see how a woman would handle the paramedic program. But if she quit, the fieldwork would have to be canceled, a replacement found and the test begun all over again. Dr. Brackett couldn't take that risk. Whatever doubts he had, he had to trust that things would work out favorably. He glanced at Dixie who gave a slight nod, as if she knew and agreed with what he was thinking. Ellen pushed back her chair, looking from Kel to Dix, her lips set in an angry line. "What's the real reason you asked me to take on this job? If it's to improve my social life, you can find someone else to be the guinea pig." She started to stand. "Wait a minute." Dr. Brackett's quick temper, feared among most of Dixie's nurses, started to rise. "We asked you because you're the best candidate for the task." He continued, forcing the anger from his voice. "Dix and I were only trying to prepare you for the start of your training period tomorrow. We want to make sure you're not jeopardizing the progress you've made putting Ed Rittman behind you. While we want this test to be a success, we don't want you hurt." Ellen stood with a confident smile. "Don't worry so much. I'll be fine." ***** Station Fifty-one's A-shift was seated around the kitchen table having a mug of coffee. Captain Stanley, listening to his men's usual morning banter, hadn't conducted roll call yet. The big rectangular table was the major piece of furniture in Fifty-one's dayroom. The space served at least three purposes: kitchen, classroom and rec room. Wood paneling along the wall that bordered the apparatus bay contrasted with the brick walls in the room and its color matched the cupboards in the kitchen area. A white counter and wall separated the cupboards, lessening the overall dull brown tones of the room. To the left of the doorway leading to the apparatus bay was the kitchen area and to the right was the radio nook plus a bulletin board for notices. The TV sat atop a cabinet near the inside corner where a pay phone was mounted on the wall. A chalkboard for drills hung between the cabinet and a long brown couch that was positioned on the outside wall beneath the only window in the room.  Most of the conversation centered on the expected arrival of a paramedic trainee who would be spending every shift with them over the next two months. In addition to being the brunt of jokes, trainees allowed the men to take a break from some of the more menial tasks associated with operating a fire station, like cooking and cleaning. "What do you say we make the new guy chief cook?" Chet asked. "Not a bad idea," Johnny answered. "I don't mind. I'm not a bad cook- at least, that's what I've been told," Ellen said from just inside the doorway. The six men hastily stood at the sound of the female voice. She smiled, swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in her throat at their stares and tentatively stepped further into the dayroom. "Hello. I'm looking for Captain Stanley." A tall, lean man with short thick dark brown hair, long sideburns that grew wider at the end and dark brown eyes approached her wearing a polite, amiable expression on his lean face that belied the authority he could exert when necessary. "I'm Captain Hank Stanley. Welcome to Station 51, Miss?" "Ellen Ferguson, Captain. I'm your trainee. It's a pleasure to meet you." The men studied the young woman standing before them, speechless from her statement. The top of her head, filled with short fine sandy blond hair, reached their captain's chin. Her tanned face and arms set off the striking blue of her eyes, which was so vivid it was like looking into a clear calm mountain lake. The tan also set off a three-inch scar on her left forearm that almost resembled an exclamation point. She wore a nurse's uniform, a white short-sleeved tunic over black pants that left much of her figure to their imagination. Everything about her seemed nice including her smile, especially to Johnny, who would have been kicking the 'Gage charm' into high gear if she were beautiful, but she was simply 'nice'. Hank shook the young woman's offered hand and smiled. Was this some sort of trick? He glanced at his men, aware by their befuddlement that they weren't responsible. When he found out who the twit at headquarters was… Something in his expression must have startled Miss… What did she say her name was? He remembered her name as she slid her hand out of his and took a step backward. "Forgive me, Miss Ferguson. You were saying?" "Headquarters didn't tell you I was coming, did they, Captain? I'm so sorry. I- I thought you'd be told who your trainee was going to be." "We're scheduled to have a trainee, Miss, but headquarters doesn't always provide the person's name." Hank's eyes widened. "You? You're the trainee?" Curious how their captain would handle the situation, the other men came closer, causing Ellen to become even more nervous. She took another step backward and answered in a shaky voice, "Yes, I am. I'm extremely sorry about this. If I had known they wouldn't say anything, I would have requested you and your men be told. I can wait someplace, if you need to call headquarters for verification." This wasn't a joke! Captain Stanley snapped to attention. "Line up, men." His crew quickly formed a line. "I would like to do that, Miss Ferguson, just to go over something." Hank couldn't very well tell her that he had to ask headquarters how she was going to live with them. He needed to get the facts of her assignment before he acted like a fool. "First though, let me introduce you to the rest of 51's A-shift." He extended his arm to escort her and was surprised when she jumped. "I'm sorry, I didn't-" "Excuse me, Captain," she interrupted with a dazzling smile that concealed her anxiety. "Please proceed with the introductions." Placing a hand near her elbow, he guided the young woman to the line of men and stopped at the first man. "Ellen Ferguson, this is our engineer, Mike Stoker." Mike had short fine light brown hair with short sideburns and blue eyes. "Hi, Ellen." He shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you." "It's nice to meet you, too," she said with a smile and proceeded down the line of men, wondering if her smile looked as forced as it felt. As each man greeted her with polite enthusiasm, she realized the stiff feeling was only her imagination and began concentrating on her shift mates' features in order to remember their names. The men were all relatively tall and lean, but the second man, Marco Lopez, was slightly shorter with dark brown hair that thinned on top, a mustache and dark brown eyes. Chet Kelly was the shortest man with thick curly reddish-brown hair, thick eyebrows, a mustache and hazel eyes. John Gage, the leanest man, had unkempt thick dark brown hair, a five o'clock shadow for a mustache and dark brown eyes. The last man in line, Roy DeSoto, had light brown hair with a slightly receding hairline, long thin sideburns and light brown eyes. "Now, Miss, if you don't mind, I'd like to call headquarters. You can wait right here in the dayroom and when I get back, I'll give you a tour, etc.," Hank said. "That's fine, Captain. Thank you." Ellen watched him leave, wondering how she was going to carry on a conversation when she couldn't think of a single thing to say to the men standing in a line before her. She was going to spend the next two months with them and her mind was completely blank. After Hank left, the men who would be her supervisors stepped closer while the other three men took their seats and resumed drinking their coffee. "Welcome to Station 51, Ellen," Roy said in his nice calm kind voice. Ellen's face lit up; relieved that she wouldn't have to start a conversation. "Thank you, Mr. DeSoto. I was told I'd like it here." "Oh? By whom?" Johnny asked. His curiosity piqued, the paramedic began to gear himself up for a long conversation with the trainee about his training philosophy. "One of my classmates said that you and Mr. DeSoto are the best and I was lucky to be working under you." "It might get a little hairy working 'under' Gage. You never know what might pop out." Chet snickered at his off-color reference to the trainee's choice of words. Ellen stiffened as silence fell. She stared at her supervisors, intending to ignore the remark, but soft color appeared on her cheeks that betrayed her embarrassment. "Well, what do you know about that. I wonder who it was." Seeing Ellen's blush, Johnny went along with the nurse and ignored Chet's comment, hoping to ease her embarrassment. His mind, however, was occupied planning how to pay Chet back when he caught Roy's look. "Uh, would you excuse us, Ellen? We'd like to talk to Cap for a second, so make yourself at home." "Sure." She turned to face the table and stared at the remaining three men who were pointedly staring at her. Not wanting to give them the opportunity to continue the conversation, she spoke the first thought that came to mind. "Would you mind if I got a glass of water?" Johnny knocked on the office door then opened it. Captain Stanley, seated at his desk, held the phone to his ear. He motioned his two paramedics to come in and take a seat in the two empty wooden chairs that faced him. "I'm glad to know the three of you recommended Miss Ferguson for the program, but that doesn't solve the problem of living conditions. All right, Chief, I understand." Hank hung up the phone and stared at it. "Great." Johnny and Roy exchanged glances as they sat down. "Ellen really is our trainee then," Roy stated. "Yes." "Who recommended her? Out of curiosity," Johnny added, noticing the captain seemed upset by his question. "Chief Houtz, Dr. Brackett and Nurse McCall. Before you ask, Gage, she's 24, single and works as a nurse at Rampart." "I wasn't going to ask, Cap." "No? I'm surprised to hear that. She seems pretty enough to warrant your interest." Hank stood. "Well. Department policy is to train her, so we train her. I, however, have to determine the rules for living together for the next two months." Scowling, he ran a hand through his hair. "I feel like a high school chaperone." "Uh, Cap, we may already have a problem," Johnny said. "That's why we came in here. We thought you should know that-" "Having Ellen as our trainee isn't going to be easy, Cap," Roy finished for his partner with a look that told Johnny to wait. "I wonder if headquarters truly realizes what they're asking you, no all of us, to do in training a woman." Hank grunted. "Whether they realize or not is beside the point. We've got her and it's up to us to make the best of the situation. Plus keep an open mind about her abilities to handle the work, just as if she were a man." The captain came around the desk and the two paramedics rose. "It isn't that simple, Cap, nor will it be that easy," Roy said as he approached the office door that Hank had just opened. "Roy's right, Cap. What about the locker room, the shower, the latrine?" Johnny asked as he stood near the doorway alongside his partner. "There's only one-" "Look, I've got some quick thinking to do before I go back into the dayroom," Hank interrupted. Recalling Gage's comment, his eyes narrowed. "What's this about a problem?" Johnny and Roy exchanged glances. Hank rolled his eyes. "Chet." The name sounded like a swear word. "What happened?" "Well, he…" Johnny began, but stopped at the sound of raucous laughter. The three men ran into the dayroom, Captain Stanley in the lead. They found Chet lying on the floor, his shirt un-tucked and his belt buckle unfastened with Ellen on her knees leaning over him, her hands aiming for his zipper. "Keep your hands away from me," cried Chet as he grabbed Ellen's wrists. "I'm just helping you," Ellen laughed, trying to break Chet's grip so she could proceed with her plan to unzip his pants. Advancing on the pair, Hank bellowed, "What's going on here?" Immediately, all was quiet. Mike and Marco, who had been standing off to the side laughing at the spectacle, snapped to attention first. Ellen and Chet released each other then followed suit. Johnny and Roy stood near the doorway and watched the scene unfold, barely concealing their grins. Captain Stanley approached a red-faced Kelly. "What did you do?" Chet glared at Ellen while he made himself presentable. "Nothing, Cap. She seemed nervous. I just wanted her to feel at home." "So you decided to play a joke. Shameful. And in the presence of a lady." "That isn't a lady, Cap. Sure, I was poking fun. But didn't you see what she was trying to do to me?" Chet asked, not wanting to take all the blame for the incident. Normally Hank wouldn't take Chet's joke so seriously. He had a female trainee though, and was expected to figure out a way for all of them to live comfortably together while ignoring the differences. The situation overwhelmed him, which increased his feelings of resentment at her presence and fueled his irritation with the fireman. "When I want your opinion, Kelly, I'll ask for it." He'd reached the end of the line and turned around to walk down it again. "Now would one of you care to tell me what happened?" The men tipped their heads to stare at the floor. Ellen kept hers upright, staring straight ahead. "What about you, Ferguson? What happened?" Ellen couldn't speak. Since she'd arrived, her nervousness had increased, making her uncertain how to speak and act around the men she would be living and working with. Her mind whirled from her behavior with Chet. On one hand she was shocked and more than a little afraid of the repercussions because she didn't know what to expect from the men. But on the other hand, she was glad Chet Kelly had played his little joke. Perhaps she was finally beginning to forget confronting Ed Rittman and everything that had occurred afterward. "Do I need to rephrase the question in a more delicate fashion for you to answer, Ferguson?" "No, Sir. The first way was fine. It was just a simple misunderstanding." "I see." He turned away from her then whipped back, firing another question at her. "What were you trying to do to Chet?" She jumped, but held her ground. "I was teaching him a lesson about vulnerability, Sir. Things got out of hand. It was my fault. It won't happen again, Sir." "Stop calling me Sir." "Yes, Sir- I mean, Captain." "That's better. Relax, men. That includes you too, Ferguson. I talked with headquarters and Ellen is indeed our trainee. I, as your captain, have some decisions to make in regard to living arrangements." Hank glared at Chet. "Now, though I accept Ellen's explanation and apology, I don't consider this incident closed. I will hand out a severe reprimand if this behavior is ever repeated during the length of the training period. Do I make myself clear, Kelly?" "Crystal," Chet mumbled. "Good." Hank turned toward his trainee, surprised that she had relaxed very little. "You can relax, Ellen." He took a step toward her, only to have her back further away. He noticed her hands were clenched into fists at her sides and her eyes warily watched him, almost as if she were prepared for an attack. Easy now, he told himself. You don't need to frighten her half to death. "I'm sorry if I alarmed you. Sometimes I have to assert my authority." Realizing how tense she was, Ellen unclenched her hands and forced her voice to be nonchalant. "I understand, Captain. Thank you for explaining." "Sure." Hank held out his arm. "All right, let's take a tour of the station. I need to issue you a helmet and turnout gear before you go on a run." "I - I would rather you didn't escort me, please. I'm a trainee, not a visitor." Smiling, he returned his arm to his side. "This will take some getting used to." Ellen laughed at the understatement. "Yes, it will." The captain launched his tour in an easy-going manner and she began to relax as they left the dayroom. "Thanks a lot for your help, Marco, Mike," Chet growled when he was alone with his friends. "What happened, Chet?" Roy asked. "It was just a simple joke, that's all. But that… that lady … I'm too embarrassed to tell you." "Come on, Chet, it was harmless," Mike said. "Nothing happened, but it sure was funny," Marco added. "Funny! You call having a woman try to take your pants off, funny?" Johnny laughed. "I don't know, Chet, in some circumstances that might be quite enjoyable. You're just sore 'cause she was on top." "Very funny, Gage. Of course you'd be happy to have any girl take your pants off at any time, because that's the only way you'd get any-" Johnny stepped close to Chet. "That's enough." "Cool it, Junior." Roy looked at Chet and took a guess. "You pretended to be sick to see what she'd do, didn't you? It wasn't enough to embarrass her with that earlier remark of yours." "Well…" Chet looked down at the floor. "And your little joke backfired! You were foiled by a woman, no less!" Johnny laughed gleefully. "Well, well. Wait till the other shifts hear about this! You'll never live it down, Chet old buddy!" "Johnny, you're not helping the situation," Roy said. Johnny wasn't about to let Chet off the hook so easily. "But it's hysterical! The other guys will eat it up! Marco, Mike, you have to tell us the gory details- the more the better. What does vulnerability have to do with it?" Grinning from ear to ear, he waited for further details from the two firemen. "After she was sure he was faking, which didn't take her but a few seconds, she laughed and told Chet he hadn't watched enough westerns because if he had, he'd know never to put himself in a vulnerable situation," Marco explained, unable to resist making Chet uncomfortable. Mike took over. "She sure made it rough on our friend. He was pretending to be unconscious so he couldn't very well say anything when she asked what she should do to him. We didn't know what she'd planned until she'd unfastened his belt. Chet had no choice but to quit pretending at that point." Unable to contain himself anymore, Mike laughed. "She even took what Cap dished out, though it sure scared her." "Thanks for taking her side, guys. She hasn't even been here an hour yet. So maybe I did pull a joke on her. You forget she tried to undress me and wouldn't quit. How come I was the only one Cap chewed out? Just because she's female, she gets special treatment? I don't think so." "You know what Cap said, Chet," Marco warned. "I know. I won't do anything to Miss Ellen Ferguson, but that doesn't mean I have to like her. I don't. Not one little bit." "Chet, you need to let go of this. You're only going to end up hurting yourself," Roy said. "Come on, Junior, Cap's probably done with the tour by now. We need to show Ellen the squad." Still chuckling over Chet's mishap, Johnny said, "Lead on, Pally." "Well, that's the fire station," Hank said upon bringing Ellen back to the apparatus bay. She seemed to have relaxed, though he caught her warily watching him once during the tour he'd given her. "It's impressive, Captain." "Ellen, we don't stand on formalities here. We use either first or last name. The men call me Cap. You're more than welcome to do the same." They'd reached a closet between the dayroom and the locker room where the extra turnout gear was stowed. "Well, I think I'll stick with captain. It shows more respect." While not a lie, she hadn't revealed the complete truth either. How could she tell Captain Stanley that his comment regarding formalities had suddenly filled her with dread? That for her own protection she needed the distance formality brought? "That's fine," Hank said, deciding it might not be so bad having the female trainee around. She added color and dimension to the station that he hadn't realized was lacking. "Let's get you some turnout gear and a helmet." He opened the closet he'd shown her earlier, studied her a moment then pulled out a coat, pants, boots and a helmet. He handed the items to her and waited. Now that his resentment toward her was gone, Hank was more aware of the young woman facing him. He could see the nervousness and uncertainty in her wide questioning eyes. She made no move to try on the apparel he'd given her, just watched him with a quizzical expression that contained something else: a skittishness he didn't understand except that she was trying not to let it show. "Ellen, what do you know about firefighting?" "Nothing. I'm willing to learn everything I can, though." "Okay, for starters, I need you to try those things on over your clothes to see how they fit." "Sorry," Ellen said, embarrassed. "I should have realized." She deposited everything on the floor but the bunker pants. "I can take care of that." "This is going to be good," Chet whispered. Johnny jammed his elbow into Chet's side to silence him as he and the rest of the crew stood in the space between the squad and the wall of the apparatus bay. They'd caught their captain's remark regarding the turnout gear as they'd left the dayroom and decided watching would prove more entertaining than making their presence known. Hank saw his men standing at the rear of the squad while he watched Ellen put on her turnout coat. She was so engrossed with the clothing that she didn't realize she had five pairs of eyes trained on her back. "I wish I had a mirror." She raised her arms, feeling the weight of the turnout coat pulling at them. "I feel like some kind of a knight." Laughter erupted behind her. She spun around, almost losing her balance from the awkward clothing. More laughter came from her shift mates as they emerged from their hiding place. "That's just about what you look like," Marco said. "Really?" Ellen asked. "Marco's kidding. Come on; I know where there's a mirror!" Johnny grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the locker room. Once inside, he pointed at her reflection in the large mirror mounted above the sinks. "There," he said. Ellen stared with difficulty at herself. The helmet the captain had given her was a little too big, so she set it further back on her head to see. At the sight of her reflection in the bulky oversized clothing, she spread her arms outward with a laugh. "I think I'm more of a scarecrow." Johnny laughed. "I wouldn't go that far. Still, it's not a perfect fit, is it?" Her helmet slipped downward. "Now, what gave you that idea?" Giggling, Ellen adjusted the helmet with exaggerated movements that made Johnny laugh even harder. Watching their reflections in the mirror, the nurse suddenly realized she was having fun. She remembered how long it had taken her to say more than a few polite words to her male classmates and marveled that she was clowning around with a man she'd only just met. She hadn't done anything like that since the night her life had turned upside down. Johnny stared at the sadness that suddenly appeared on Ellen's face. She was focused inward on something that clearly caused her pain. Before he could say anything, she blinked and briefly met his eyes in the mirror before pretending to remove a speck of lint from her turnout coat. He stared at her, curious what she'd been thinking. He wanted to ask, but the paramedic sensed she wouldn't answer his question and let the matter drop. "Come on; you've got to see the squad. Put the bunker pants and boots beside the foot of your bed then come back out to the apparatus bay." "What about the rest?" "Bring it with you. Don't take long, Ellen. We could get a run any time and we have to show you the squad," Johnny reminded, as she left the locker room to carry out her task. He joined his shift mates, continuing to ponder over the expression of hurt and sorrow he'd seen when she'd forgotten his presence. "I told Ellen to put everything but her turnout coat and helmet beside her bunk, Roy. She'll be with us shortly." "We heard the two of you laughing," Marco said. "She did look kinda funny, but I don't think a knight is a good description." He chuckled at the memory. Johnny held out his arms. "She seemed to think more of a scarecrow." "Wait a minute," Chet said amidst his friends' laughter. It suddenly dawned on him what Johnny's comment about Ellen and a bunk meant. He looked at the captain. "She's going to sleep here?" "Man, I just assumed she'd be spending the night. Was I wrong?" Johnny asked. "She's spending the night," Hank stated. "But, Cap, isn't that going to be awkward? Which bunk did she pick?" Chet hoped she'd picked a bed close to Johnny's partition instead of his own. "There'll be the partition and a bed separating you two, Chet." Hank's eyes narrowed as Chet opened his mouth. "Is there a problem?" "No. No problem at all," Chet answered, trying not to show his displeasure at the female trainee spending the night. "You know, I don't think it's going to be so bad having Ellen around," Mike said. "Yeah, Chet, give her a chance," Marco added. "I suppose," Chet muttered, unconvinced. He was still smarting at being the only one the captain had chewed out for the joke he'd played on Ellen. Her ability to quickly charm his friends only worsened his resentment. "I'm glad to see you're all handling this situation so well," Hank said. "I must admit I wasn't too thrilled with the idea at first. But I think we'll manage." He glanced at Chet. Something tells me there's going to be trouble before long, he thought. Ellen deposited the bunker pants and boots beside her bed exactly as her shift mates had placed theirs. Ready to return to the apparatus bay, she stepped into the aisle between the two rows of beds and looked around the dorm. The aisle seemed awfully long as she pictured herself walking past her shift mates' beds in the shorts and t-shirt she'd planned to sleep in. "Get hold of yourself," she muttered. "You don't have to be afraid of them. They won't hurt you. Besides, other than the typical lewd remarks, the A-shift is going to be thinking more about getting some sleep than about you." Her feeling of apprehension remained. "They're not like-" Without warning, she saw Ed Rittman's face in her mind, standing before her as he'd done that night with her best friend's blood on his hands. She could see his eyes and the way he smiled at her. He opened his mouth… She shook her head to dispel the awful memory before she could once again hear his voice. "Forget about it, Ellen. The A-shift is definitely 'not' going to hurt you." Ignoring the lack of conviction in her voice, she left the dorm to get the promised tour of the squad. The tones sounded just as Johnny closed the squad's last compartment door. "Station 51, freeway accident. San Diego Freeway, past the entrance ramp on Manchester Avenue. Time out 9:20." +++++++++++++++++ Two hours later, Johnny and Roy headed for the nurse's station after bringing in the last of the freeway accident victims. "Hi, Dix." Dixie looked up from a pile of paperwork. "Hi, Johnny, Roy." She looked around. "Where's Ellen?" "That's what we're wondering. She said something about getting some things out of her locker," Roy said. "You want me to check on her?" Dixie asked, smiling. "Would you?" Johnny returned the smile, glad she had offered. "Sure. Be right back." She slid off the stool and walked to the end of the counter.  Dr. Brackett approached the nurse's station. "Johnny, Roy," he greeted the two paramedics. Where's-" "She's in the locker room." Dixie interrupted. "I've been deputized to check on her." "I see." Kel looked at the two paramedics. "So how's she doing?" "We've only been on one run so far, " Roy said. "That's right, the freeway accident. She did a good job?" Dixie regarded the paramedic closely, puzzled by his noncommittal answer. She was used to Roy's reserved responses regarding trainees, but his choice of words and tone of voice made her wonder about the welcome Ellen had received at Fifty-one's. She glanced at Kel and noticed by his grim expression that he'd also picked up on Roy's manner. For the first time, she wondered if recommending Fifty-one was a good idea. "Yeah, she did." Johnny glanced at his partner. "Dix, how long has Ellen been a nurse here? I thought I'd met all of them." "What difference does it make?" Dr. Brackett barked. Dixie quickly broke the stunned silence. "Look, Johnny, maybe you should ask Ellen your questions. She won't bite, you know. I'll be right back." She walked behind Roy and headed toward the locker room, wondering what Kel would say to the two surprised paramedics. She was beginning to realize she and Kel were as unprepared for the fieldwork as Ellen. Ellen was gingerly drying her grazed palms when Dixie entered the nurses' locker room. "The boys sent me to find you. What's going on?" "It's nothing. I fell on that rescue." Dixie scrutinized Ellen as she threw away the paper towel. "I don't see any evidence of a fall." Ellen grunted. "I changed my pants, Dix." She pointed to her backpack sitting on the bench in front of her closed locker, but refrained from mentioning her palms. "My pants are in there with a nice little rip in the right knee. It never occurred to me I'd need extra uniforms, so I'm taking a couple with me to put in my locker at 51's." "You hurt yourself and didn't say anything? Why not?" "I didn't hurt myself seriously enough to affect doing my job, so I didn't say anything. I've taken care of it now, so nothing needs to be said, okay?" Ellen was hiding something other than her unwillingness to be examined by her supervisors. Dixie had all the evidence she needed to be convinced that something had gone wrong with the men's acceptance of her nurse, as she had feared. "You're afraid of them, aren't you? Did Kel and I make a mistake-?" "No," Ellen interrupted. She grabbed her backpack, preparing to go. Dixie placed a hand on her nurse's arm. "Yes, you are, Ellen. It's written all over your face. What happened?" "I'm not afraid of the A-shift, Dix. I just need to get my bearings. Look, I've got to go." Ellen stared pointedly at her friend. "Okay." Dixie stepped aside, knowing it was useless to press for information. "Whatever happened, they're good men, Ellen. You can trust them. Maybe they can help-" Her nurse was shaking her head. "You know, it doesn't matter whether I tell them or not, they'll find out. You're making a mistake, Ellen." ++++++++++++++++ It was suppertime when the three of them climbed out of the squad. It had been a busy afternoon. They'd ended up eating lunch at a hamburger stand and Ellen got to see how quickly food could be consumed before they were called out again. "You left her by the side of the road, right?" Chet asked hopefully as Johnny and Roy headed toward the coffee pot on the stove. "She went to put some extra uniforms in her locker that she picked up from Rampart. You still on that kick?" Johnny asked as he filled Roy's mug. "He sure is. Especially about Ellen spending the night," Marco said, placing the bowl of salad on the table. "He thinks she's some kind of vampire and we're going to be attacked in our sleep." "That wasn't the kind of 'attack' I had reference to, Marco." Chet set the plate of French fries on the table with a clang, miffed that his friends were laughing at him again. "Whatever you're referring to stops now, Chet," Captain Stanley ordered as he entered the dayroom. "It was only a comment, Cap. Do I have to watch what I say while Ellen's around?" Chet asked. Hank smiled. "Yep. You won't be alone, Chet. All of us are going to behave like gentlemen around Ellen." He stared at Chet. "With no repeats of this morning's comment, though I have yet to hear what it was." Chet seethed. "The jokes will stop, but I can't promise to be nice to her." "Figure out some way to get along with Ferguson. That's an order, Kelly." Just then, Ellen entered the dayroom carrying something and stopped, staring. The men froze for an instant, feeling like children who'd been caught with their hands in a cookie jar. How much had she overheard, they wondered. "Supper's ready, Ellen," Mike said, placing a plate of fried chicken on the table. "What have you got there?" he asked, steering the conversation away from the awkward moment. Ellen smelled the food and realized how hungry she was. She looked forward to holding a glass of cold water against her sore palms and resting her tender knee so much that she barely noticed she'd interrupted something between the men. It hadn't taken her long to discover during the afternoon that she'd hurt herself in two places that couldn't be pampered. Luckily, the damage wasn't serious, especially to her hands, because she had no intention of telling her supervisors or the captain of her mishap. The aspirin she'd taken in the locker room would kick in shortly and dull the discomfort she felt. "Just some mending. I thought I'd have time before supper, but I can do it later." She placed her mending on the couch's armrest and approached the table, regarding the extra chairs scattered amongst the men. "Where do you want me to sit?" "How about outside," Chet said, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Marco glared at Chet. "Right here's fine, Ellen, between Mike and me." "Thanks, Marco." She sat down for her first meal with her shift mates, annoyed that Chet had once again caught her off guard with a rude comment. You're going to have to be quicker on your feet, girl, she reprimanded herself. You don't need your shift mates defending you. "What can I get you to drink?" Roy asked, still standing by the stove. "The coffee's fresh." "Actually, a glass of ice water would be nice." Ellen started to stand as Roy pulled a glass out of the cupboard then headed for the fridge. "You don't have to-" "My pleasure." Roy plopped some ice cubes into the glass. "Don't you like coffee?" "She probably only likes tea," Chet said. "I drink coffee sometimes and I also like tea. It's just that I'd rather drink water whenever possible." Roy placed the glass of water near Ellen's plate. "Thanks, Roy," she said as he sat down. The men began loading food onto their plates with no rhyme or reason. She watched them seem to inhale their food then filled her plate and began to eat the fried chicken, French fries and tossed salad Mike had prepared. "You said mending. As in sewing?" Chet asked. "That's right, I can sew. Something wrong with that?" Ellen countered. "No. I just thought you'd find something like that beneath you as you conquer the world of firefighting." "I'm not here to take your job, Chet. Not even to try." "You couldn't, even if you wanted to, because you don't know enough." "You're right, I don't. But that's beside the point-" "That's enough, you two." Hank looked pointedly at Chet who proceeded to concentrate on the food on his plate. Everyone ate in silence. Ellen reached for her glass of water and gasped as the cold surface made contact with her scraped palms. "You okay?" Johnny asked, placing a French fry dipped in ketchup in his mouth before reaching for the drumstick on his plate. Ellen carefully picked up the glass. "I'm fine. The cold glass surprised me." She brought the glass to her lips and drank, aware that everyone was watching her. It's going to be a long two months, she thought grimly. "How long have you been a nurse at Rampart?" Johnny asked, between bites of the drumstick he held. "Around two and a half years. I started as a student nurse." "Do you work in emergency?" She smiled at Johnny's garbled question, having noticed at lunch that he liked to talk with his mouth full. "I work wherever I'm needed, except in the lab and the morgue. It helps Dix's scheduling nightmares. Since I'm sing- I've placed myself on call for the nurses in case they need to switch shifts at the last minute." She hoped they'd missed her slip, not wanting to reveal that she was single. "What about a specialty?" Roy asked. "I prefer helping where I can, when I can. Besides, it would be too hard to decide what I like best." "Doesn't sound like you have time to socialize," Marco said then grinned at Ellen's surprised expression. "Cap filled us in." "What do you do for fun?" Mike asked. "The usual," she answered and plopped a French fry into her mouth, hoping to avoid saying anything more on the subject. She shouldn't be surprised that everyone knew she was single. Most likely, the captain had gleaned the information from his phone call to headquarters. Suddenly she remembered Dix's comment about the men being curious. The walls began to close in around her. It'll be a miracle if you make it through this shift, she told herself. "Whatever it is, I bet it's boring," Chet said. He had to rattle Ellen, make her lose her cool so his friends would see she didn't deserve special treatment. Maybe he could manage to even get her in trouble. Now that would be ideal. "I have a question." "Yes?" Here we go again. He's baiting you.  "Why is your hair so short? It's shorter than mine." "Chet, that's not a fair question," Mike said, irritated that his friend wouldn't leave the trainee alone. Though surprised and curious by Ellen's reluctance to talk about herself, he was willing to accept her wish. What was Chet up to, he wondered. Ellen almost breathed a sigh of relief that the question was so easy. "It's okay, Mike." She smiled. "Meaning yours is almost as long as a girl's, while mine is almost as short as a boy's? With age often comes wisdom, Chet." She saw the fireman's eyes narrow at her dig, but didn't care that she hadn't helped her situation. "I wear my hair this way because I accept what God has given me- hair that won't hold a curl to save my life, at least not without a perm. Does that answer your question?" "Yeah. Thanks." Drat the woman! Suddenly Chet's gaze fell on her scar. "What interesting story is behind that scar of yours?" Ellen saw the direction of his stare with just enough time to prepare herself for his question. "No story at all." She pushed back her chair. "That was a good supper, Mike. If you'll excuse me, I need to get my sewing kit and some other things from my car." Her shift mates watched the white aluminum back door close behind the trainee. She'd wanted them to think what she'd said about her scar was true, but the haunted look that had briefly appeared on her face and abrupt departure told them otherwise. "Don't you think that question was a little too personal, Chet?" Roy asked. "Not at all. Why?" Chet said. "Well, I sure liked her answer," Marco said. "I think that bit about age and wisdom was especially nice," Mike added with a pointed look at his friend. "Chet, you need to get over this morning. She's not falling for your games," Roy warned. "Aw, come on, guys, didn't you want to know?" "Maybe so, but some things you just don't ask," Mike said. Hank joined the discussion, deciding the fireman needed something to take his mind off the trainee. "Chet, I don't know why you're still goading Ellen, but maybe doing the dishes will knock it out of your system. Alone." "Aw, Cap-" "Now." "All right." Fuming, Chet began gathering up the dirty dishes, trying to figure out what he could do next. Ellen returned to the dayroom carrying a small sewing kit. She picked up her mending and shook out the folded item to reveal a pair of black pants. Sitting down on the couch, she opened her kit to fetch a needle and thread. "You're mending your pants? Don't you make enough as a nurse to afford a few uniforms?" Chet asked from the sink, where he was working on the dishes. "I'm not going to throw away a perfectly good pair of pants just because one knee is torn." Chet watched Ellen, curious as to why she'd be mending a torn knee. The color of the pants she was wearing matched the pair she was going to mend, so that provided no explanation. He remembered the freeway accident- their first run- and wondered if she could have torn her pants while searching the wreckage for victims. He decided to take a chance. "How did it happen?" He hoped she was too preoccupied with threading the needle to notice what he asked. Ellen had finished threading the needle and was preparing to make her first stitch. "It happened on my first run," she automatically answered and plunged the needle into the fabric. She froze, realizing what she'd revealed and waited for the inevitable to happen. "Did you fall?" Johnny turned his head in her direction. He was seated across the room with the others, watching a TV game show. Bingo! Chet smiled then turned to watch the water circling down the drain, imagining Ellen's similar downfall. Silently cursing Chet, she raised her head. "Sort of." Everyone stared at her. "Were you hurt?" Roy asked. "Just a few scrapes. It wasn't serious." Captain Stanley saw Chet's smile of accomplishment before he turned his back and Ellen's chagrined expression. Somehow, he had to convince Kelly to tow the line, if he had to write him up to do it. First, he had to find out why Ferguson had withheld whatever had happened to her on that run. "Ellen, could I see you in my office, please? Roy, John, get the drug box and wait outside the office until I call you." Hank walked to the doorway. "I'm waiting, Ferguson." Ellen glared at a smug Chet before silently following the captain into the apparatus bay. "Chet?" Roy said quietly, concealing the anger he felt at his friend's trickery. "Yeah?" "Don't set her up like that again, understand? Don't give me that innocent look. I saw that smile you gave her when she fell into your trap." "We all did, Chet. That was a low blow, even for you," Mike added. He turned away from the fireman and headed for the office, wondering how badly Ellen had been hurt and what Cap would say to her. With pointed looks, Chet's friends followed Mike out of the dayroom until the fireman was alone. Even that plan had backfired somehow, he thought. Shaking his head, Chet headed for the office, not wanting to miss anything. "Have a seat, Ellen," Captain Stanley requested as he closed the office door. She sat in one of two wooden chairs that faced a desk, waiting patiently while the captain crossed the room and leaned against the desk's corner closest to her. Hank somberly regarded his trainee a moment and noticed she wore the same nervous questioning expression that she had when he'd handed her the turnout gear. "It's just the two of us. I know Chet caused you to admit something you wouldn't have told any of us and he'll be dealt with. My concern right now, though, is you. Would you tell me what happened?" "I asked Johnny and Roy on the way to the freeway accident if I could separately search the wreckage for victims to speed up the task. I told them I wouldn't try anything heroic and they let me split up from them. I hit a slippery spot when I was going around a car and fell. I tried to catch myself, but only partially succeeded." She raised her hands, palms outward for the captain to see. "I scraped my right knee and hands on the pavement as I landed. Since I could still do my job, I didn't say anything." Slowly she returned her hands to her lap. "When we arrived at Rampart, I cleaned and patched myself up." "Why didn't you tell John and Roy?" In a split second, Ellen recalled her fall at the accident scene. The fearful disdain she'd felt at telling her supervisors returned. She knew then as she did now that Johnny and Roy would look at her injuries, which would mean touching her… Swallowing down the urge to flee, she quickly shifted her gaze to the window behind the captain's shoulder. "I didn't know how they would react, and I didn't want all of you fussing over me." She looked at the captain. "It sounds like a man-woman thing, but it's not." Hank saw Ellen's expression change to fear the moment the question left his lips. Somehow, he knew her fear went deeper than her answer. He briefly saw the same haunted look that had appeared in Ellen's eyes earlier and it occurred to him that whatever the story, she was still feeling its effect. A feeling of unease began to form in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it aside. "I believe you. But in the future I must know when you get hurt on a run, no matter if it's just a hangnail, for responsibility reasons. Understand?" Ellen smiled, relieved that she didn't have to further explain. "I'm sorry, Captain. That never occurred to me and it won't happen again. I promise." Hope sprang to life that Johnny and Roy wouldn't have to examine her, only to meet a swift demise. "Now there's the severity of your injuries. It's not that I question your capabilities as a nurse…" Hank paused at the bandage that was revealed as Ellen rolled up her right pant leg. "But for my own peace of mind I would like your supervisors to take a look." "I understand," Ellen said softly. She felt cold as ice. You can do this, she told herself repeatedly as she watched the captain. Hank walked to the door and opened it, wondering if he shouldn't forget about having Ellen examined. His eyes immediately locked with those of his crew, their expressions grim as they stood against the squad and knew he had to proceed. He smiled to allay their concern then frowned when he noticed Chet was standing slightly apart from the group. Impressing upon the fireman that his behavior wouldn't be tolerated was going to be about as easy as understanding why Ellen was afraid, he realized. "John, Roy, you can come in now." Hank turned to Ellen, who had turned her chair slightly to keep him in sight. He couldn't believe it, but she looked more afraid than she had seconds before. Her eyes were opened wide; her lips pressed together, her face so pale it was almost translucent. "The others are standing by the squad. If you don't mind, I'd like to leave the door open so they can hear what's going on." "That's fine." Her voice croaked the reply as Johnny and Roy crossed the threshold. Suddenly the room seemed overly small with the three men coming toward her. Memories she thought had been forever buried filled her mind: her roommate's muffled sobs, Ed Rittman's 'Hello, darlin', the searing pain from her injuries. Instinctively she scooted further back in her chair and fought the almost overwhelming surge of panic. Johnny, carrying the drug box, stepped into the office first. He quickly glanced at Ellen seated in the chair with her pant leg pulled up. He expected to see anger at having her competency questioned and was surprised at the terror he saw in her face. "What's up, Cap? By the looks of things, I don't need this drug box," Johnny said lightheartedly, hoping to ease the tension emanating from the trainee. "Yeah, looks like she's already patched herself up," Roy said. Hank gave his paramedics a look of thanks for their nonchalant manner. "She has. I just want you to ease my own paranoia and take a quick look at her knee and hands." Johnny flashed the Gage crooked smile as he moved forward. "Sure thing, Cap. This will only take a second, Ellen. You shouldn't have anything at all to worry about." He hoped she'd get his message and relax. Her eyes followed his every move as he stopped beside her chair and placed the drug box on the floor. He felt her flinch when he gently took her left hand from her thigh, but she let him examine it. Hank leaned against the desk corner while Roy knelt beside Ellen's bandaged knee, his mind trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that was the trainee. "This will sting," Roy said and pulled the bandage off. A slight gasp was her only response. "It doesn't look too bad, Cap. She pulled off several layers of skin, but she exposed the wound, cleaned the area and put ointment on it." Raising his head, he met the trainee's terrified eyes with a smile. "You did a good job, Ellen. I'll just put a little more ointment on a new bandage and you'll be all set." "Thanks, Roy," Ellen said softly and tried to return his smile with only slight success. She knew her behavior would make her shift mates even more curious, but it was all she could do to just let her supervisors touch her. "How are her hands, John?" Hank asked. Johnny picked up her right hand and moved it at the wrist. "Does it hurt?" "No." "Good. It's not swollen either. She did a good job on them too, Cap. Just a little bit of torn skin in spots, mostly on the right one since it took the brunt of her fall. She handled them the same way as her knee." The Gage grin appeared again. "Like I said, there's nothing to it, Ellen." "Thanks, Johnny." With shaking hands, she pulled down her pant leg and stood, stepping deftly around Johnny and Roy without touching them. "May I go, Captain?" "By all means." Hank watched his trainee almost run toward the doorway, so great was her need to flee. His paramedics gave him a questioning look that he could only answer with a shrug. "Thank you, Ellen." She stopped in the doorway and turned slightly. "You're welcome, Captain. Your paramedics have a wonderful bedside manner. What I heard about them being the best was right." "We don't get many pretty and nice patients very often," Johnny said, surprised to see soft color spread across her cheeks. Her face was so expressive she wouldn't make a very good poker player, he thought then remembered the other time she'd blushed before his mind drifted to the pain he'd seen and the haunted look in her eyes. Could they be connected with her fear, he wondered. Ellen could feel her cheeks growing warm at the unexpected compliment. She stepped out of the office without commenting, catching sight of Chet as he stood near Mike and Marco. She desperately needed a moment alone to steady her frayed nerves and collect her thoughts, somewhere away from the men's watchfulness. Intent on finding refuge on her bed or the bench in front of her locker, she pretended she didn't see him and started to walk away. There would be ample time to confront Chet Kelly later. "You don't look so good, Ellen. Maybe you should go home and rest. You can try again next shift, say at another station," Chet said. Ellen whirled and headed for Chet, her eyes blazing. He pressed himself against the squad to escape her wrath, wearing that smug, insolent grin that she had a sudden urge to knock off his face. "What's your problem, Chet?" Ellen barked. "Should we stop her, Cap?" Roy whispered. Hank, Johnny and Roy stood just outside the office doorway, almost directly behind Ellen. "I think Chet's going to get what he deserves," Hank whispered back. Ellen ignored the conversation behind her. "It's that joke of yours, isn't it? You know, I would have thought that at your age you'd have learned by now that when you play a joke on someone you run the risk of it backfiring. Like this morning." Chet decided to milk Ellen's show of temper for all it was worth. "You tried to take my pants off, but I was the one Cap chewed out. You've charmed everyone to the point where I wonder what your plans are for us tonight." "So I undid your belt. Big deal. I'm a nurse, Chet. You don't have anything I haven't seen before, so you needn't be so damned protective of it. As for tonight, don't worry about it. I've had better offers from much nicer men than you could ever be and I've turned them all down. You'll just have to get used to going without while I'm around." "Ellen-" Marco began. "What, Marco?" She looked at the fireman scornfully. "Do you think Chet's the only one who can talk with a barbed tongue? Or be mean to someone?" She turned back to Chet. "Who died and gave you the right to be such an asshole, Chet?" She ignored the surprised gasps her swearing had caused and continued her tirade. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you this morning, even though that's what you wanted to do to me. I thought if you could dish out a joke, you could also take one. My mistake. But I'll tell you right now that it's going to take more than your verbal games to get me to leave this station before my job is finished-" "Job? What job?" Hank interrupted. Ellen was dimly aware that she'd been indiscreet, but couldn't stop the anger that poured out of her. "I intend to do this job to the best of my ability whether you like me or not. I'll do you a favor and stay out of your way as much as possible, but I expect the same thing from you. Understand?" She brought her face close to the fireman's. "Don't push me, Chet, because I'll push back. You won't like it, I can guarantee you." Chet laughed. "I'll bet you can. Is that how you got that scar on your arm?" Ellen's head jerked backward as if she'd been struck. The blood disappeared from her face with a roaring in her ears as the room began to tilt. A feeling, like nausea and heat combined, started in her stomach and began to spread rapidly throughout her body. Oh, God. Breathe, she told herself. She tried, but couldn't seem to force air into her lungs. Don't pass out. She focused on the phrase, using all of her willpower to regain control. "What the hell-?" Startled by her violent reaction, Chet reached out to help Ellen. Mike grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him off to Ellen's left to give Roy and Johnny room to get close to the motionless trainee. "Ellen, you okay?" Roy asked. Johnny placed his hands on her shoulders to steer her away from Chet. "Come on, Ellen, let's go sit-" Suddenly Ellen pushed Johnny's hands away and stepped backward. "Don't touch me," she hissed then turned her back on the men. The firemen stared openmouthed as the trainee disappeared into the dayroom without so much as a glance in their direction, her back ramrod straight despite a slightly unsteady walk. Chet watched Ellen's back, still seeing her stricken face in his mind. Suddenly feeling ashamed of his behavior, he jerked free from Mike's grasp and started after her. "Hold it right there, Kelly," Hank commanded. Chet turned, grimacing at the angry expressions he saw on his friends' faces. Slowly he headed back to the group. Hank watched Chet approach; trying to plan what he was going to say. Chet Kelly was the most recalcitrant member of his crew. He smiled inwardly at the number of times Kelly and Gage had gotten into it over the years, usually over something trivial. Hank found it strange that overall, those incidents with Johnny had seemed humorous to him, whereas Chet's demeanor toward Ellen had been anything but. He could see that Chet had finally learned he'd stepped over the line, but that didn't excuse what had happened. Mentally Hank crossed his fingers as Chet stopped in front of him, his expression downcast. This had better work. "So, Chet, how are we going to handle this?" "I don't follow, Cap." A quick glance told Chet the others were also puzzled by the question. "You were going after Ellen, Chet. I assume it was for a reason other than to torment her some more. Or was I mistaken? After all, you've made your feelings clear to everyone. I think, given what happened, that all of us should come to an agreement on what we're going to say to Ellen before we enter the dayroom. You seemed to have something in mind. I'm asking you to share it with the rest of us." Chet met his captain's steely gaze without the usual deviltry in his eyes. "I didn't really have a purpose, Cap. All I was really thinking was to apologize and see if she was all right." His voice deepened. "I don't think I'll ever forget the look on her face. I didn't know mentioning her scar would do that to her." "She warned us off at supper, but you were too busy plotting to see it," Marco said. "I thought it happened in a simple accident. At least that's what I wanted to believe. But something bad happened," Chet said softly. An idea was forming in his mind, one that he didn't want to accept. "Yes," Hank said. He stared at his crew, noticing by their taut expressions that they all had guessed the same thing. Johnny spoke up. "For a few seconds in the locker room, she was remembering something that caused her so much pain I almost asked her about it. She pretended nothing happened and after a few minutes I forgot about it." He cleared his throat. "My imagination has to be running overtime." He looked at his shift mates. "Isn't it? I know everything's connected somehow, but it doesn't have to be…" His stomach turned over. "Rape," he said softly. "I think we should see if she'll talk to us, Cap," Mike said. "I agree with Mike that we should try getting her to talk to us, but I doubt if she will say much," Roy said. Hank nodded. "She's been avoiding things all day. She does it so well I didn't even really notice until she was in my office. Okay, let's she if she'll talk to us. Don't press the issue if she won't." He started toward the dayroom then turned. "And be careful. She has to pull her own weight here. We can and should be concerned, but we can't, for our own safety on a run, treat her like glass." He stared at his crew. "Don't ever forget that, men." Ellen started to shake as soon as she entered the dayroom. Blindly she made her way to the table as full awareness of her behavior hit her. She grabbed the back of the closest chair and struggled to gain control of herself, her knuckles white from the effort. She knew her shift mates wouldn't leave her alone for long and she had to prepare to face them. "Ellen? You okay?" Chet asked softly. Ellen stiffened at the sound of the fireman's voice close to her. Damn him! Why couldn't he leave her alone! Slowly she looked over her left shoulder and met Chet's eyes. She blinked. She blinked again. The devil smile was gone; Chet's face held genuine concern. She gripped the chair harder as she vainly tried to understand what new game he was playing. The rest of the men had fanned out behind the fireman. At a nod from Johnny, Mike headed for the sink. Suddenly Ellen was too tired to worry about what Chet was up to. "Just leave me alone." She looked away from him. "Here's a glass of water, Ellen," Mike said. "It might help." She looked over her shoulder again. Mike stood beside Chet, holding out a glass of water. She glanced down at her hands. She couldn't seem to make them let go of the chair. "Thanks, Mike. I don't think-I'll drink it later. I'm fine." Mike set the glass down on the table as Chet said, "You don't look fine. Course, at least you're not white as a ghost anymore." "Oh? What color am I?" she asked halfheartedly. "More of a sickly gray," Chet answered. Ellen burst out laughing, flooding her face with color. "Well, at least I'm not green. Otherwise I'd be clinging to a sink or a toilet instead of this chair." She released her hold on the chair and flexed her cramped fingers. "Or I'd have one hell of a mess to clean up." "That's better," Chet said. "I want to apologize, Ellen. I've been an ass today. I should have known better, but I wouldn't listen." He smiled sheepishly. "A failing of mine." Ellen returned his smile. "Apology accepted, Chet." She started to reach for the glass of water. Wanting to help, Chet reached for the glass at the same time and brushed Ellen's arm. She jumped backward so that she was out of reach. "Sorry," she said and stared at the table, trying to say something that would direct their attention from her behavior. Johnny spoke first. "Look, Ellen, about the scar on your arm…" Ellen stared at the men. "It's not important. I'm sorry to be so nervous. It's just that I haven't… shown much emotion in awhile." She smiled shyly. "You know, Chet, you did me a favor earlier by making me mad." She blinked rapidly, feeling vulnerable at being so honest. "Thank you." Chet grinned. "Nobody's ever thanked me for being a pain in the ass before." Ellen chuckled. "Nobody probably will again." "We'll listen if you want to talk, Ellen," Marco suggested. "No." She took a deep breath and softened her voice. "I mean that wouldn't be a good idea. It's in the past, over and done with. I've tried really hard to forget…" She paused, hearing the panic start to creep into her voice. "Look, I can't. Please just let me forget." She earnestly scanned the faces of her shift mates and finally found a distraction. "I'll tell you why I'm here." "You make it sound like your presence here is part of some plan," Roy said. "It is," Ellen said. "Headquarters won't be happy I let the cat out of the bag, but they'll get over it. Surprise aside, they really should have let you know I was going to be a woman, Captain." Hank nodded. "Ah. You're a guinea pig, right?" "Exactly," Ellen answered. "What?" Hank's men cried in unison. "Headquarters has been pondering opening the paramedic program to women," Hank explained. "Mention was made at the last meeting I attended. Some kind of plan was discussed, but I didn't pay a lot of attention. To tell you the truth, I don't think anyone did." "I can understand that," Ellen said. "But headquarters has been getting a lot of questions from the public and they decided a woman should try out the training program from beginning to end, especially the fieldwork. They wanted to see how a woman would adapt to working and living with the men and vice versa. Someone thought using a nurse would be a good test approach. Chief Houtz thought of me-" "You know the chief?" Chet interrupted. Ellen shook her head. "Not really. I was on duty some time ago when his wife had surgery and was able to help reassure him. Anyhow, he thought of me and asked Dr. Brackett, who asked Dixie if she thought I'd be willing…" Roy shot a look at the captain and received a slight nod in reply. It had occurred to him that Dixie might know the story behind Ellen's scar and if she'd share her knowledge, he and his friends might be able to help. Putting aside thoughts of how he'd approach Dixie, Roy returned his attention to Ellen, who had continued talking, unaware of the silent exchange with the captain. "At the end of the training period I'm supposed to turn in a report giving my recommendations. I think knowing the trainee's a woman is the least headquarters could do for the captain and his crew." "It would help the trainee too. You should have seen the look on your face this morning when Cap didn't realize you were the trainee," Johnny said, laughing. Ellen laughed. "You should have seen your face, Johnny, when you found out I 'was' the trainee." "If you're certified as a paramedic, what will you do? Give up nursing?" Roy asked. He hoped it didn't sound like her evaluation depended on her answer. But the program meant a lot to him and he was curious about her plans. Ellen's eyes widened with surprise. "You know, I haven't really thought about it. I'd treat my certification as an honor, but I don't really want to give up being a nurse right now." Her brow furrowed in thought. "You know, it might not be a bad idea for someone like me to be on staff at Rampart. I could increase staff understanding of the fire/paramedic biz. I mean I do my best now, but just imagine what I could do with firsthand experience…" "Um, just what have you been doing?" Hank asked. Ellen snapped out of her reverie and smiled sheepishly at her shift mates. "Well, I sorta made it known to a co-worker that he's to keep his opinions about firefighters and paramedics to himself when we work together. In a nice way." The men stared at the young woman with increased admiration as she exhibited her feeling for the fire service that she knew so little about. "I can imagine," Chet said. "Say, Ellen, have you ever seen a fire engine up close?" "That's a great idea! We can show you all sorts of things we firefighters do, right Mike?" Marco looked at his friend. "Absolutely. We can show you a couple of things before we turn in," Mike said. "Wow! Do you mind, Captain?" Ellen asked. "Not at all," Hank replied, amazed anew at the young woman assigned to his crew. She was lit up like a Christmas tree with her enthusiasm and had managed once again to deflect talk from an unwanted subject. Remembering her earnest plea, he decided to let it go for the present. "Cool!" She took an impulsive step forward and stopped. She stared at Mike, his words about turning in causing her earlier apprehension about the long aisle in the dorm to return. She wanted to ask, but felt foolish. "What's on your mind, Ellen?" Mike asked. She grimaced. "I've always been too easy to read. I can kinda control it unless I get excited…" She paused, realizing she was rambling out of nervousness. Get control of yourself, girl! "I was just… you guys won't make a fuss about the shorts and t-shirt I'm going to sleep in, will you?" "Would we do that?" Mike asked, his eyes twinkling. She seemed to freeze at his words, her expression registering surprise then fear. Realizing she'd misinterpreted his comment, he bridged the gap between them. "I didn't mean anything, Ellen. You're safe here," he said softly, holding her gaze with his own. "You do believe me, don't you?" Ellen silently stared at the engineer. 'You can trust them,' Dix had said. Finally, she blinked and exhaled slowly. "I- I'm sorry. I know that somehow, but…" Her eyes focused inward. "It's time I learned to trust again," she whispered and answered Mike with a nod of her head. "Can I see the fire engine now?" When he was alone with the two paramedics, Hank said, "I think you'd better call Dixie, Roy. See what she'll tell you. I believe Ellen will tell us eventually, but I don't think we should wait for her to trust us enough to do so." "Sure, Cap." Roy walked over to the phone on the wall near the fridge and dialed Rampart. Johnny stared at the captain while Roy asked to speak with Dixie. "Why is Roy calling Dix?" Hank smiled at how easily confused the paramedic could sometimes be about things that didn't concern rescues and victims. "From her description of being chosen as a test candidate, Roy and I think that Dixie is close enough to Ellen that she may know about that scar of hers." "I hope it works," Johnny said as the two men drifted closer to the phone. Roy nodded that he'd reached the head nurse. "Dix, this is Roy." "Hey, Roy, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?" Dixie paused then asked, "Everything's okay with Ellen, right?" "Yes and no." Roy took a deep breath. "Things were kinda bumpy at first, but things have smoothed themselves out…" "That's good. I was beginning to wonder. So what's the problem?" The moment had come to ask his question. "Well, you've known Ellen quite a while, right?" "I've known her since she started as a student nurse two and a half years ago. Why?" Roy could hear a definite pause before she asked her question. "What can you tell me about the scar on her left forearm, Dix?" Silence. His hopes fell about getting any answers. "It's come up in conversation and she acts really weird about it." "She hasn't told you anything?" Dixie's stalling, Roy thought. "She says she can't, that she just wants to forget about it. We don't want to pressure her, but-" "Don't," Dixie commanded then forced the edge from her voice. "Roy, if Ellen doesn't want to talk about the scar, it's best to just let it go. She'll tell you the story when she's ready to." Another pause. "If ever. I told her she could trust you guys. Give her a chance to realize that. Don't let me down, okay?" "Okay, Dix. Thanks." Roy replaced the receiver and turned to meet the crestfallen expressions of his friends. "She won't tell us," Hank said. Roy repeated Dixie's comments, along with Dr. Brackett's attitude at the nurse's station, which now made sense. "So my guess may be right then," Johnny said softly, gazing toward the apparatus bay. "Seems so." Hank's gaze followed Johnny's. "I can see why Dr. Brackett and Nurse McCall would be protective of her. I can definitely see why." He shook his head, his mouth set in a tight line. "I don't like any of this. But we'll do it Dixie's way for now. Johnny, Roy, any erratic behavior from Ellen and I want to know about it. Understand? Pronto. I'll fill the others in when you guys go on a run." Roy and Johnny nodded, their expressions equally grim, as they followed the captain into the apparatus bay. ***** As soon as Ellen arrived home from the station, she showered and changed from her nurse's uniform into comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. An hour later, she was pouring a mug of coffee for herself when the doorbell rang. Smiling, she grabbed a second mug off the mug rack on the counter and filled it with the steaming black liquid before hurrying to answer the door. Dixie stood on the other side smiling, dressed in a light blue sweater and pants outfit that suited the slight coolness of the cloudy October morning. "I had to see how your first shift went yesterday." She held out a square bakery box. "I brought sustenance." "I have libation." Ellen completed the long-standing greeting then motioned her friend inside. "I figured you might show up. Curiosity killed the cat, you know." Dixie laughed and entered the small kitchen to the right of the foyer. She loved the simple floor plan and decorating style of Ellen's apartment. To the left of the foyer was a coat closet, which ran parallel along the linoleum floor to the kitchen entryway. Across from the kitchen, the wall opened up at waist level, providing a view into the living room with a pillar marking its entrance. The foyer became a hallway that extended past the living room to two bedrooms and a bath. The walls of each room were painted in pale colors that complemented the soft colors of her furniture and curtains. Accents had been carefully chosen to add a touch of classic elegance to each room's color scheme. "I was hoping you'd still be up," Dixie said as she set her purse and the bakery box on the small oval kitchen table before pulling out a chair and making herself comfortable. "I wasn't sure if you'd been able to get any sleep last night." Ellen followed her friend into the kitchen. "I actually slept pretty well last night." She moved to the counter and retrieved the mugs then joined Dixie at the table. Dixie took a sip of the liquid and sighed. "You sure make good coffee, Ellen. It can't compare to the stuff at Rampart." Ellen laughed. "Nothing can compare to the stuff we get at Rampart, Dix." She took a sip from her mug then returned it to the table. "Okay, out with it. I've got my fortification here…" grinning, she tapped the rim of her mug, "and am ready for the cross-examination to begin." "Smarty-pants. Okay, coffee cake can wait. We didn't get much of a chance to talk yesterday and after the phone call from Roy, I thought I'd come see what's what." Ellen leaned across the table, her gaze intent. "Roy called? When? Why? What did he say?" Dixie's gaze was equally intense. "Hey. I thought I was supposed to ask the questions in this 'cross-examination'. Seriously, I'm concerned." Her eyes twinkled. "I want to know if I have to chew the A-shift out for not being gentlemanly to a lady." Ellen laughed. "Okay, I'll talk. But I intend to get 'my' questions answered before you leave." "Deal. You said yesterday that you weren't afraid of your shift mates; that you needed to get your bearings. Right?" Ellen nodded. "So tell me about when you first showed up. Did things not go well?" "I wouldn't say that exactly," Ellen said and proceeded to explain meeting her shift mates and the first altercation with Chet. By the time she finished, Dixie was wiping her eyes, trying not to smear her mascara in the process. "Wow. I can't believe you did that." Dixie chuckled. "I like Chet, but he can be a handful at times." Ellen smiled. "Always the diplomat. For most of the day yesterday I was thinking more of a royal pain in the ass." "So, what changed your mind about Chet?" Ellen stared at her mug and sighed. "You and Kel were right, Dix, about my not being prepared. The class parameters were easy to get accustomed to; totally unlike living with men in a fire station." She raised her eyes and met her friend's understanding gaze. "I was a fool. To tell the truth I spent most of yesterday wondering how I was going to finish out the day, let alone two months. Chet was constantly baiting me. It really ticked him off that Captain Stanley chewed him out for his little joke and not me. The other guys seemed to accept me without too much trouble, but not Chet. He tried to make me lose my cool, but I outsmarted him. So he decided he'd get me into trouble. I walked right into his trap." "Let me guess. Your fall." Ellen blinked in reply. "I see. Well I'd think if anything, you'd be angrier with Chet instead of the reverse." "Oh, I was. But after Johnny and Roy examined my hands and knee, all I wanted was to get away from everyone's watchfulness. The memories I thought I had under control had started in my head again, causing the guys to have questions about my behavior." "I bet. You hurt your hands too?" Ellen grinned sheepishly and Dixie nodded. "That's why you were drying your hands in a weird way. I saw it, but it didn't register. You let Johnny and Roy touch you?" "I had no choice." Ellen took a ragged breath. "Then Chet wouldn't leave me alone." She stared at her friend, her expression full of wonder. "I told him off, Dix. You know how long it's been since I lost my temper, no matter how angry I got." Dixie nodded. "Well, I blew a gasket, worse than what I said to Mike Morton, remember?" Ellen laughed without humor. "Then Chet said something about my scar and I freaked." She swallowed. "The memories…" She rubbed her scar as her eyes briefly focused on the past. "I almost quit at that point, but Chet apologized. Strange, but I never thought he'd do that." A smile lit her face. "Do you know I got to see the ins and outs of a fire engine?" Dixie placed a hand over Ellen's. "I know it must have been hard for you yesterday. Believe me, I know what it's like to remember things you want to forget. But it's good that you're at 51's." Ellen stared at her friend. "You're talking about Korea." Dixie nodded, her lips pressed together. During the time they'd known each other, the head nurse had privately shared moments of her war experiences, especially the bad ones that still haunted her dreams. Knowing that Dixie had survived had helped give her strength not to give in to her own demons. "Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something by telling me that about 51's? Come on, Dix, give. I told you everything. Your turn." "Okay, okay. It really isn't anything. Kel and I wanted to make sure you not only had the best paramedics to train with, but that you would be in a place where you would feel safe, so we recommended you be assigned to 51's A-shift." Ellen was laughing. "What's so funny?" "Dix, for most of yesterday I felt anything 'but' safe, except for those few moments when the guys asked me to tell them about my scar. I remembered what you said about them, but I couldn't do it." "I know." "How?" "Roy called me, remember? He said you were acting sorta weird and wanted to know if I knew anything about how you got your scar; said you wouldn't tell them." "They asked you to tell them? Of all the sneaky, low down things to do!" "Why are you upset? You wouldn't tell them when they asked you to. I told you, Ellen, that they're good men. They're obviously concerned about you and want to help." She patted her friend's hand. "I told Roy that you needed to tell them yourself when you were ready." Another pat. "You can trust them, Ellen. Sure, you've come a long way, but you're still holding back and it isn't right. You need to move on and let Lisa and Jack go. Talking to the A-shift would be a good thing." "I know. I realized yesterday that I have to trust again. But…" Ellen looked at her friend, panic in her eyes. "I don't know if I can do it, Dix. Let down my guard. Trust them. Tell them." "You've made a tremendous start in just one shift. I think you may be more ready to do those things than you know." Ellen's expression became thoughtful. "Maybe. You know, sometimes yesterday it felt so good being with the guys that it was like Ed Rittman never existed. We laughed and joked around; they even pretended to avert their eyes when I walked past them in the shorts and t-shirt I wore to bed until somebody couldn't stand it and whistled. Of course then they all had to whistle." She laughed. "As if I have anything to whistle at. But it was kinda flattering the way they did it." "Of course." Dixie hid her smile at Ellen's lack of vanity with a quick drink from her mug. "And now I can see that firefighters have been elevated even higher in your eyes." She shook her head, grinning. "Poor Mike Morton. He's not going to be able to stand it the next time he works with you." Ellen made a rude noise. "I sorta told the guys about having a conflict with someone's opinions of firefighters/paramedics. I let them think it was a nurse though. That's when Chet asked if I'd ever seen a fire engine up close. So he, Marco and Mike Stoker ushered me out to the apparatus bay and spent the next hour showing me every nook and cranny of their big, neat engine." Ellen drummed her fingers on the table. "That must have been when Roy called you. He wouldn't have had any time otherwise." She paused. "While it feels kinda weird you and Kel helping me get 51's A-shift, I'm glad you did, Dix." She touched her friend's hand and smiled. "Thanks." Dixie laid her free hand on top of Ellen's and returned the smile. "Just give yourself some time and you'll be able to tell them." She cleared her throat of the emotion that had suddenly formed. "Now tell me how Chet got you to tell them about your fall." ++++++++++++++++ Ed Rittman entered his motel room and flicked on the nearest light switch before closing the door behind him. Rain beat against the curtained window as he shrugged out of his dripping coat and placed it on one of the wooden hangers in the makeshift closet to his right. It had begun raining just as he'd approached LA, the downpour so heavy at times it had made driving almost impossible. Not knowing where else to begin his search, he had forced himself to drive until he'd reached the UCLA campus where he'd been a graduate student until events two and a half years before had made it prudent for him to leave. He'd pulled into the first motel he could find on the border of the campus and found a room, glad to be out of the storm that raged outside. Thinking how good it felt to be back in LA, Ed switched on a floor lamp beside a brown square reading chair, idly wondering if the chair was a recliner as he surveyed his surroundings. The room wasn't the Ritz, but it would do for what he hoped would only be a brief stay. Once his search was completed and he had what he came for, he would move to something more suitable; some place nice and private. "The City of Angels," he said then laughed at his little joke as he tossed his suitcase on one of the double beds. He caught his reflection in the mirror and once again took stock of his appearance. The makeup covered the scars on his left cheek remarkably well. He smiled with satisfaction, knowing that he would be remembered most for that particular feature. With his hair a bit longer, cut differently and dyed a dark brown color his transformation was complete. The few pounds he'd lost had also helped his disguise. He turned his head from side to side; confident that the person he needed to find during his stay wouldn't recognize him until it was too late for escape. The smile turned into a leer as Ed remembered Ellen Ferguson as she had left the courtroom after his trial had been dismissed. She'd met his eyes with a hatred shining in her own that had mirrored his innermost feelings for her. He laughed as he recalled how her expression had changed to fear after he'd touched his cheek and smiled. Without a word, she'd continued past him and out of the courtroom. That had been the last time he'd seen her, but he'd never forgotten his nemesis. Her roommate, however, had never entered his thoughts until now. Ed pointed a finger at his reflection. "Imagine me a rapist! Just because the girl wanted it then changed her mind, she cries rape. Sure things got a little rough, but it was her own fault. Leading a guy on the way she did, it was bound to happen. At least I was able to teach her a valuable lesson." He nodded at his justification, glad that the judge and jury had thought the same thing. He'd been a little worried at his arrest and charge until his lawyer had shown the kind of woman his accuser was. Though the judge and jury hadn't vocally stated Ed's beliefs, the proof that they'd shared them had been in the dismissal of the charge and his release. He'd left LA and finished his studies, landing a nice job in his chosen field, all the while replaying Ellen's visage repeatedly in his mind. Patiently he had saved his money and waited for the time when he would come back and exact his payment for the damage Ellen Ferguson had inflicted on his face. Somewhere along the way, he'd decided he wanted more than revenge: he also wanted to possess Ellen. Seeing her as the only woman with enough spirit who could ever be his equal, he became determined that she should be his physically. Ed turned from the mirror to stare at one of the double beds, imagining Ellen lying on the bed with him as he'd done many times over the past two years. Instead of relishing the fantasy and attending his physical response, he ignored his need in favor of the planning required to make his fantasy a reality. At last, he was in LA, but he had no way of knowing how to find Ellen. He figured a good place to start would be around the campus, assuming she hadn't left the area, the city or the state. That thought brought him up short. What if he had waited too long to return? His shoulders slumped as the sheer magnitude of his quest became apparent. Even if she hadn't moved far, LA was so big it would be like finding a needle in a haystack. "You can't give up now. You'll find her somehow." He looked around him again. "And when I do, I'll need to find a suitable place to take her, where we can be alone to enjoy each other's company. So I'll do that while I wait for inspiration to strike." Grimacing at the thought of going back out in the storm, Ed donned his coat then left his room to purchase a copy of the LA Times newspaper. the story continues