And a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

By
Theresa Melton, Erin Lindsey, MJ Hajost, and DiAnne Bay

Roy glanced over at his slightly pale, sweat-soaked partner with concern. "Are you sure you're ok?"

Johnny nodded and leaned his damp face into the slipstream at the side window. The wind lifted his wet hair in chunks. "Yeah, I'm ok... sure could use something cold to drink though." Johnny closed his eyes and luxuriated in the relative coolness of the 35-mph breeze.

"That sounds good to me, too," Roy seconded. He pulled the squad into the next fast-food joint, and the pair ordered the largest drinks on the menu. Roy handed a large paper cup to his partner. Johnny made an admirable attempt to drain the container without taking a breath. He's too darn close to heat exhaustion, Roy diagnosed, as he swallowed large swigs of his own soda.

Roy felt a bit of relief when Johnny sat his drink on the floorboard and turned to him, "Man, I don't know why the County won't spring for air conditioning for these squads..."

Roy smiled inwardly, recognizing the tone and cadence of a Gage rant in the wind-up. He's feeling better...

The radio's triple beep interrupted both of them.

Squad 51, possible overdose. McClellan Park, southwest entrance, 864 McClellan Drive, 8-6-4 McClellan Drive. Cross street Mason. Time out, 13:22.

As Roy steered the squad through the park gates, he had to slow to a near-crawl. Various day-glowed, tie-dyed, or almost au naturel characters of indeterminate gender, dubious hygiene and considerable hair, covered the roadway and the browning grass. Music of myriad source and aptitude, and a heavy haze of marijuana smoke, filled the sultry air.

Johnny lifted his helmet and wiped his wet face on his sleeve. "What is this, some kind of love-in?"

Roy shrugged, distaste plain in his expression. "Some kind of 'in'. How the heck are we going to find our patient?"

Johnny gazed out the window, morbidly fascinated. "Beats me. Every one of them looks stoned out of their mind on something."

"We're gonna join them if we have to breathe much of that," Roy commented, wrinkling his nose at a particularly strong drift of psychoactive smoke.

"There!" Johnny exclaimed, pointing ahead to where a young man stood at a fork in the park road, waving his arms like a semaphore. As they approached, he sprinted towards them. He shook his head, sending matted curls swinging. "Glad you fuzz got here quick. She' s in a really bad space... just fell and started jerking all over. Must have been some really nasty shit, man." He jittered in place, snapping his fingers, a bundle of nervous energy.

"Where?" Roy demanded, impatient to get to a possibly critically ill patient.

"Down this road a little. Follow me." The young man took off like a greyhound, and Roy followed as quickly as he was able. The siren and horn penetrated foggy minds enough to clear the roadway when deployed at close range.

"Did you get a look at his eyes?" Johnny muttered.

Roy grunted. "Couldn't drive a straight pin through his pupils."

"Think we ought to take him in too?"

"Not unless he 'falls and starts jerking all over,' " his partner replied with heavy sarcasm. "We take him in, we'd have to take the whole lot in. They're all spaced out of their gourds on one thing or another."

"Why do people want to do that to themselves?" Johnny wondered.

Roy had considered that question himself many times. He'd never come up with a satisfactory answer.

The young man's description of the girl's condition had been crude, but accurate. When the paramedics approached, they found her writhing in the grip of a grand mal seizure. The two rescuers sprang into action, ignoring the on-lookers in various stages of lucidity.

Johnny set up the biophone, while Roy began to take the girl's vitals.

"Anybody know her name?" Johnny asked the onlookers.

"Sunshine.... Carla.... Sharon..... Fooz..."

And all his other questions were answered just as helpfully.

Stymied by the lack of parental consent, all the partners could do was maintain the girl's airway, and transport.

When Johnny returned to the squad, he expected to find it ransacked. Instead, it sat unmolested, passers-by giving it a wide berth. He found out why when he went around to the driver's side. An enormous man wearing filthy torn jeans and a leather vest emblazoned with the name of an infamous motorcycle gang sat on the runningboard, blowing random blues-tinged riffs on a harmonica.

The man rose and grinned at Johnny. "I didn't let no sticky fingers wander through your cage, man. It's all present and accounted for."

"Uh, thanks, I appreciate that," Johnny stammered, at a loss for a suitable reply. He had to look up to meet the man's eyes.

The man shrugged, "You fireboys saved my ass from fryin' one time. I pay my debts when I can, how I can." He gave Johnny a clap on the back that nearly sent the paramedic to the asphalt. "Have a nice trip, man," he grinned over his shoulder as he re-entered the crowd.

Johnny shook his head in bewilderment and pulled himself into the cab. He wiped his face on his sleeve again, and glanced down as the radio crackled. It stayed silent, but he saw his forgotten drink, sitting in a puddle of condensation on the floorboard. He picked it up and shook it experimentally. Johnny smiled broadly at the faint rattle of a few surviving ice cubes, and drank the cold soda gratefully as he threaded the squad back through the milling crowd.

I hope the a/c's really cranked up in the ER. John backed the squad into its regular space by the emergency room entrance, then shook his head like a dog shaking off water. This heat is still getting to me. He drained the rest of his rapidly warming soda. Time for some real fluids.

Before he got out of the squad, Johnny reached down to retrieve Roy's discarded drink. Taking one large slurp from the cup as he walked through the ER doors, he sighed deeply as the cooler air mercifully hit his sweat soaked face.

He glanced around, but didn't see Roy waiting. She must have gone sour on the way in. "Hey, Dix, how's that OD?" he asked as he joined her behind the duty desk. Setting Roy's confiscated cup on top of the supply cabinet, he opened its doors to grab some needed supplies.

Dix shook her head dolefully as she handed him the inventory sheet. "They're still pulling all kinds of junk out of her lungs, but at least she's stopped seizing. The tox-screen hasn't come back yet... no telling what was in those garage-lab tablets Roy brought in with her, or how many she took. And don't be leaving your cup for me to pick up."

"Sure thing, Dix," Johnny replied without removing his head from the cabinet, as he gathered what supplies he knew they'd used on the scene. "Ya' know, her 'friends' were all a bit foggy on the details, that's for sure. The wind probably whistles through their ears, even when they aren't high as kites."

He stood up and turned to her with a grimace, " Hell of a way to have 'fun', huh?"

"Oh yeah, we have to turn folks away, clamoring for restraints, intubation and gastric lavage. More popular than Disneyland." Dixie's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I think I'll hang onto my E-ticket, thank you. Doesn't sound like my kind of ride," he grinned. He deposited his double-handful of paraphernalia on the desktop, beside the inventory sheet. He stretched, then pulled his saturated shirt away from his back. "Dix, when Roy comes out, tell him I've gone down to the cafeteria, ok? I'm gonna try to clean 'em out of ice."

"What, no coffee?" Dix teased.

Johnny chuckled, waving dismissively without looking back as he headed down the corridor. Dixie's admonition about leaving the cup behind was totally forgotten.

Johnny loped into the cafeteria, and made his way straight to the counter. He was the only customer in the place, at the moment. "Afternoon, ah... Kim," he grinned, trying to peer at her nameplate without appearing to be ogling her cleavage.

"Hello... J. Gage," she shot back good-naturedly. "What can I do for you today?"

An absolutely astounding image of crystal clarity flashed through his mind. It was like something out of the Kama Sutra. He gulped, blinked. Where the heck did THAT come from?

"Uh...uh... just a cup of ice water, please. A big one." He recovered his composure. "And it's Johnny."

"Huh?"

He motioned at his nameplate, with a grin calculated to charm, "Johnny Gage."

"It's nice to meet you, Johnny Gage," Kim smiled as she took a cup and dug the scoop into the crushed ice. "It gets a little lonely around here on this shift... too late for lunch, too early for dinner. I'm glad to get some business."

She handed him the cup, and he sipped thirstily. It was the best tasting water he'd ever swallowed.

"Oh, they make me charge a nickel for a cup of water, imagine," Kim said apologetically.

"No problem," John grinned, and stuck his free hand in his pocket. An odd look passed over his face. "Uh, Kim... I seem to have a hole in my pocket." He reached for his wallet, but she giggled and waved her hand.

"It's on me, Johnny, ok? Looks like the heat is really getting to you, you're still sweating. Did you have a tough call?"

He shrugged, "Not really tough, just pathetic. It was an OD. A teenage girl, couldn't have been more than 15. I haven't heard how she's doing, yet. It's hot as blazes out there, though."

"Thank heaven for air conditioning." She peered at the paramedic with concern, "You're shaking, are you sure you're ok?"

Johnny looked down to see the cup trembling in his hand. "Yeah, I'm ok... think I'll sit down under that a/c vent over there for a few minutes. Care to keep me company?" Never hurts to ask...

Kim gave a cursory glance around the empty cafeteria. "Why not? It's not like I'm covered up with business."

John gave her a dazzling smile. He pulled a chair out for her, gaining a warm smile for his gesture of courtesy.

Kim's hair slipped away from her shoulder as she sat, and Johnny stared at the odd ornament she had pinned to her shoulder.

"What is that?" he chuckled, gesturing.

She twisted her neck to glance at her own shoulder, then laughed. "Oh, that's my Ozwald pin."

"Oh." Why will women wear wear something as jewelry that'd make 'em scream and faint if it actually crawled on 'em?

"So, Kim, what do you like to do when you're not working here?"

"Not cook!" she laughed. "I like to hike, or surf. Anything to be outside, after being shut up in this kitchen all week."

"I know this beautiful trail, up to a kind of hidden waterfall... It's a great hike, about 3 miles. Would you like to go?" he asked hopefully.

Kim tilted her head and considered. Well, if you can't trust a fireman, who can you trust? "Sounds like fun. I'm off for the next two days, how about you?"

"I get off at seven, tomorrow... want to leave by eight, beat the heat?"

"Sure, or we could do it the next day, and get to the trailhead at dawn." "

Even better," John grinned. "Where do you live?"

In answer, Kim pulled his pen and notepad out of his shirt pocket, and wrote down her address and phone number. He'd no sooner glanced at it when Roy came hurrying into the room, stopping just inside the door.

"Johnny, let's go, we've got a run."

"See you later, Kim!" John called, and barreled out after his departing partner.

The call was canceled a few miles down the road. Johnny acknowledged the cancellation with rare good humor. "Good, we can go back to the station. Can't wait to get under a cool shower," he grinned. He leaned his head far out into the slip stream from the window again, looking for all the world like a beagle Roy had owned as a teenager.

"Wanna pull your head back in before something knocks it off?" Roy suggested mildly.

Johnny chuckled, but leaned back in his seat, wriggling his back into the corner of the cab. He started to hum.

A few blocks later, Roy cast a slightly annoyed glance at his partner. The last run had been depressing. The young girl was still barely clinging to life, her pale, childish face haunted him. In contrast, his partner appeared to have callously dismissed the whole incident without a second thought. Gage was humming a vaguely familiar tune endlessly and keylessly, drumming his fingers on the window ledge to a different rhythm, and jiggling his leg to a third. He exuded such a field of nervous energy, it made DeSoto tired just to be in the cab with him.

The fiftieth repetition of the mangled musical phrase pushed beyond the limit of Roy's endurance." Would you please settle down?" he all but snapped.

"What?" Johnny turned a startled, almost hurt, look on his partner.

"You're driving me nuts, jittering. What's going on? That cola couldn't have had that much caffeine in it."

"Jittering? I'm not jittery. Darn it, Roy, can't a person be in a good mood around you without getting their head bitten off?"

"Well, what's put you in such a 'good mood', then? Or should I ask, Who?"

"Who," John grinned euphorically. "Kim, from the cafeteria. We're going hiking Sunday morning."

Roy shot a quick glance at his partner. Kim Jacobs? She was friendly, and pleasant looking, a nice enough girl... but Johnny usually reserved that transported tone and expression for the likes of the models that had done a photo shoot at the station a couple of years ago. Maybe he's seen something in her I've missed. I am an old married man, after all....

Johnny turned back to the window, and switched from humming to whistling. The same ditty.

Roy gritted his teeth and endured. The station was only a few more blocks away.

Man, the sun sure is bright, all of a sudden. Johnny closed his eyes against the glare, and quieted, fascinated by the patterns made by the sunlight shining through his eyelids. Never noticed that before... beautiful.

Roy had no idea why John calmed down, but he was careful to keep his mouth shut, grateful for small favors. The engine crew was out on a run, when the paramedics pulled back into the apparatus bay. Roy opened his door, started to step out, and then paused. "Johnny?"

"Huh?" his partner grunted, his eyes still closed. It's still so.... bright.

"You planning on getting out, or are you going to finish your nap right there?"

"I wasn't asleep," Johnny protested, as he opened the cab door and got out.

Sure. "I'm going to catch a shower."

"Umm, me too. I want some ice water, first, though."

Sounds like you're still about half-asleep. Roy headed for the locker room without voicing his opinion. The runs, the heat, and John's cavalier spaciness had rubbed Roy's nerves raw. Maybe a few minutes of peace, under some cool water, will get me in a better mood.

Johnny bounced into the day room, grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, and filled it with cold water from the fridge.

Downing it in several long gulps, he turned to head for the locker room, when he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open. "Where did you come from?"

The petite woman giggled, a sound like glass windchimes in a spring breeze. She wound a single ringlet of her waist-length locks around her finger and smiled at him coyly. "The wonderful land of Id." She swung her crossed bare feet, and peered at him curiously from her perch on the tabletop. "Where are you from, dragon-slayer?"

"Montana," he mumbled, feeling vaguely like she'd made a joke at his expense, but not sure how. Heck, a girl that beautiful could walk over him in spiked heels, and he wouldn't hold it against her. He stared at her shamelessly. She had nut-brown skin, but her thick, curling hair, her brows, and lush lashes were palest blonde. She wore a short dress that appeared to be mostly cobweb-fine fringe and tissue-thin cotton in the flowing tints of a floral watercolor left out in a drizzle.

She almost glowed, she was so out of place in the brick utilitarian atmosphere of the dayroom. He wouldn't have been more amazed if she'd suddenly flicked transparent wings like a dragonfly's and soared away.

"Can I...uh... help you, Miss?" he stammered. Oh, now that's smooth, Gage.

She gave him a calculating look. "Maybe. What's your name, dragon-slayer?"

"John. John Gage." Some part of his brain was insisting this wasn't a normal conversational exchange. The rest of his brain vehemently told that part to shut up and go sit in the corner.

"John Gage..." She rolled the name out trippingly on her tongue like it was foreign to her. "Tell me John, what's your sign?"

He blinked. Sign? Come on, even I don't dare use that line. Wonder what you're on? "Neon," he answered, a bit sarcastically.

She seemed inordinately pleased. "A rare ether that glows red-orange when held in a field of energy. A very good sign to have, John the Dragon-slayer!"

John leaned against the fridge. Whatever you're on, they didn't tell us about in paramedic class. "Ok, now it's your turn. What's your name and sign, and what the heck are you doing here?"

"My name is Karma, and my sign?" She hopped off the table and approached him. She stood on tiptoe and leaned in very, very, close, but kept her hands clasped behind her back. "My sign, John the Dragon-slayer, is 'Yield'."

"Sounds like a hazardous sign to operate under, especially looking like you do," he ventured with a crooked grin, taking a small step back from the ethereal lunatic.

She shrugged, "True, there is danger in the sign, but it also leads to all manner of glorious adventures and quests."

Ok. Sure. "You still haven't told me why you're here, Carmen."

"Not Car men, Kar ma," she corrected, and moved towards the outer door, beckoning him teasingly, "And I can't tell you why I'm here, John the Dragon-slayer, I have to show you. Follow me, it's not far..."

John sat his water glass down on the table, and followed her outside without a second thought. It bothered him not at all, that Karma hadn't actually opened the door, before departing. He was simply vaguely irritated that he had to go to the trouble, himself.

Roy stepped out of the showers into the locker room, and paused, listening. John was talking to someone, but he couldn't hear the other voice at all. He glanced out the door. The apparatus bay was still occupied by the squad alone. Curious, Roy toweled off and dressed as quickly as he could. As he was tying his shoes, he heard the outer day room door slam.

He strolled towards the sound. "Johnny? Who was here?"

Silence answered him. DeSoto stepped into the day room. It was empty.

"Karma, where are you?" Johnny looked around, puzzled. Where could she have gone so quickly? The parking lot was empty of life, and everything seemed... strange... somehow.

It was as if he were seeing it all through a shimmer of heat, or an underwater panorama. The colors were brighter, so bright that each made an almost musical tone resonate in his head if he dared look more than a split second. The sunlight was almost blinding. The polluted air was brown and gritty between his teeth, heavy with the taste of oil and the sound of rust.

He grimaced with distaste, wishing he could hold his breath indefinitely. "Karma?"

"Up here, Dragon-slayer!"

He spun around at the sound of her voice to find Karma standing on top of the wall at the back of the parking lot. Her hair and brief skirt rippled in a breeze that only deigned to play around her.

"Come on, John of the Neon Sign... up here! We have to scale the Wall!"

Too far gone to question the wisdom of that suggestion, John lightly leaped up onto the hood of his Land Rover, planted his hands against the gritty concrete, and with a grunt, started to lever himself up.

Roy walked to the outer door and stepped out into the parking lot. "Johnny?"

John glanced towards his partner, then back at Karma as she hissed, "Don't betray me to the enemy, Dragon-slayer!"

"But he's not..."

"They all are!" she retorted, a look of panic crossing her face.

"Johnny?" Roy called again, coming closer. "What's going on?"

Looking down at Roy, then back to the top of the wall, he blinked when he realized it was empty. He dropped back onto the hood of his truck and down onto the pavement. "Nothing," he lied smoothly. "I heard tires squall out on the freeway, thought there'd been an accident, but nothing's wrong."

Squinting into the late day sun as he faced Roy, Johnny breezed past his partner, making his way back towards the stationhouse. "I'll go in and take my shower, maybe I'll even get the soap rinsed off before the tones go off." He threw a grin over his shoulder, and loped back inside.

Roy stared after him for a few long beats before following. His brow furrowed slightly. Johnny seemed-- odd-- somehow. Something the senior paramedic couldn't pin down. He shrugged off his uneasiness, and walked towards the day room door. A quirky little hot breeze dropped over the wall and swirled like a tiny dervish across the parking lot, coiling around his legs like a kitten. The sandy dust it carried sparkled in the low beams of the sun.

Johnny opened his locker and grabbed his shampoo. He turned and reached to tap Smokey's nose out of mindless habit. As he started to swing the locker door closed, a sneeze right by his ear startled him. His head jerked towards the sound.

Smokey wiggled his nose---sniffed.

John goggled.

Smokey winked broadly, and blew a kiss.

Johnny slammed the locker door with a bang, and backed away so fast he nearly did a backflip over the bench. Man! I have GOT to quit eating Marco's chili!

With a quick, wary glance over his shoulder he grabbed a towel and fled to the shower. He wrenched the knobs to the left and stepped under the stream, shaking. It was several seconds before he realized that the trembling wasn't entirely due to his emotional state. The cold water outran the hot. He readjusted the water, and hung his head.

By the time he finished his shower, he'd convinced himself that all the weirdness he was witnessing was due to the heat, and low blood sugar. The last meal he'd eaten had been the warmed over chili for breakfast...

He turned off the water, and reached out for his towel. He was fine, really, he was. And my clothes... are still in my locker.

Johnny hesitated, then slowly pulled the locker door toward him, staring fearfully at the picture on the back. Smokey stared peacefully out, quiet and still. Johnny blew out his breath in a rush and relaxed.

"Hey, there, fella...."

This time Johnny's backflip was nearly perfectly executed.

He sat on the floor, gazing open-mouthed at his open locker, something akin to terror flitting across his face.
A tiny face peeked out from between his shirts. "Peek-a-Boo!"

Johnny's mouth shut and his face darkened. "Damn it, Karma, don't do that! You're just like Chet!"

The sprite-like figure hopped to the floor and smiled over the paramedic. "Are you going to sit there all day, John the Dragon-slayer, or are you going to get up and come with me?"

Johnny clambered slowly to his feet and stepped over the bench. "Just let me put some clothes back on," he muttered. He gallantly faced his locker, his eyes locked on the poster. He slowly reached in and yanked his uniform pants and shirt off the hangers as if he were trying to maneuver past a snake. He eased his hand in again, snagged briefs, T-shirt and socks.

Smokey remained reassuringly two dimensional and silent.

He turned to his other dilemma. "Uh, Karma, do you mind?"

She giggled, and her voice suddenly reeked of magnolias. "I promise I shall avert my eyes," she drawled, and made good on it, planting one slim palm over her face.

Jerking his clothes on as quickly as possible, he never noticed her fingers separating, just a bit.

He fastened his pins and badge to his shirt, and gingerly reached out, with just his fingertips, to swing the locker door closed.

"Remember, only you...!"

SLAM!

Johnny backpedaled furiously away from the rich baritone emanating from his locker, exiting through the locker room door--backwards.

Roy turned at the commotion behind him. His partner was backing rapidly into the vast bay, face flushed and eyes darting nervously around.

"Johnny? Something wrong?"

Johnny jumped at the sound of Roy's voice and whirled around. "Damn it, Roy! Don't do that!"

"Don't do what?" Roy tried to keep his expression neutral, but Johnny was behaving very oddly today.

"Come up behind me like that!" snapped Johnny.

"I wasn't coming..." I give up. "Look, what do you say we give the squad a bath?"

"I just took a shower," whined the other. "I'm not gonna get wet all over again." And have to go get changed again...

"Johnny...!" Roy blurted in exasperation.

The tones drowned out his next words.

Squad 51,possible heart attack, 13 Rosebud, One Three Rosebud, Cross street Ivy. Time out: 15:55.

The high-pitched keen of the approaching ambulance set sharp-edged red and purple abstract objects spinning in and out of Johnny's field of vision. Annoying as all get out. He blinked, shifted his focus, tilted his head, anything he had to do to keep his patient in view.

As the siren grew closer, and louder, the visual apparitions were joined by more physical ones. Each wail sent an electric surge along his nervous system, filled his mouth with the taste of copper. As the ambulance came to the curb, the last shriek of the siren was more than he could take. Johnny bit his tongue against his exclamation of anguish.

His body felt like it had been hit by a jolt from a defibrillator. Angry jagged shapes filled his universe as his nervous system all but smoked. Deep in his brain a breaker flipped. A sound like ripping silk filled his awareness. Then, peace...

Roy glanced at his partner with renewed concern. A look of real pain had crossed Johnny's features. "Are you sure you're ok?"

Johnny looked up at his partner, serenely serious. "I'm fine, Roy. Do you want to ride in with Mr. Myers, or shall I?"

Shall? "Uh, I will."

Johnny found himself crouching on the opposite side of the patient he'd been next to a few seconds previously. He looked across the unconscious body of Mr. Myers and gaped at the slightly harried, tired-looking version of himself that knelt there. The inexplicable twin methodically packaged the patient for transport. Johnny stood, confused and a bit panicky. "ROY!"

A hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped and whirled like a startled cat.

"Roy can't hear you, right now. He can only hear him," Karma explained sympathetically.

"Who is he?" Johnny all but whimpered, watching, numbed as his double loaded the patient.

The avatar thumped twice on the ambulance doors and rapidly strode towards the squad, and opened the door. Johnny scrambled to catch up, slid into the driver's seat, cutting off his mirror image at the pass. Johnny jerked his thumb at his own chest emphatically, "I DRIVE!"

The other John leaned against the open door of the squad. "You can try." His words swayed in a condescending sing-songing tone.

Johnny glared victoriously at the avatar, and reached for the key still resting in the ignition. The vigor of his movement took his hand not only through the key, but through the entire steering column. Johnny snatched his hand back
and cradled it to his chest protectively, as if it had been burned.

"See? Move over, I drive," Ego grinned-- symmetrically.

Johnny turned frightened eyes to his twin, as he slid to the passenger side. "Am... am I a ghost?"

The avatar rolled his eyes upward, "Spare me!" He answered Johnny, slowly, in small words. "Ghosts do not exist. You are, for right now, a figment."

"A figment?" Johnny quavered, and reached for the door handle. He stared at the unusual sight of his hand merging with the chrome.

Ego chuckled dryly as he walked around to the passenger side, "Right. A figment. It's the expedient solution. For the time being, I steer the body. You're certainly in no condition to be responding to emergency situations."

He started to swing the door closed. Karma ducked under his arm, scrambled across Johnny's lap to sit in the middle of the bench seat. She patted Johnny's thigh reassuringly. "It's ok, really."

Johnny was not reassured. "Who are you?" he demanded of the look-alike, as soon as the imposter slid behind the wheel.

"Ego," he replied evenly. "I'm not surprised you don't know me."

"Igor?"

The doppelganger fixed him with a world-weary glare, "Do I look like I have a hunchback? It's Ego... as in, I'm the responsible one. I get to do your job while you and she," he jerked his thumb towards Karma, "get to have all the fun."

Ego sighed and started the engine, slumping with resignation, "As usual."

"Oh, you're such a whiner!" Karma snapped. She turned a dazzling smile on Johnny, "You're a lot more fun, John of the Neon Sign."

Never one to disagree with a beautiful woman, especially when she was right, Johnny favored her with a dazzling smile of his own.

She turned a sneer towards Ego, "Even his smile is better than yours!" She batted her eyes at John, "It's so crooked and cute!" Her hand, still on his thigh, started a slow creep.

"Cute, sure," Ego responded with heavy sarcasm. "One of the lingering results of an untreated head injury in early childhood. Real cute."

"I've always smiled this way!"

"Not before you fell out of the barn loft on your head, when you were five."

"I remember that! All I did was knock out my two front teeth. They were primaries, so they grew back," Johnny shot back.

"But the brain cells didn't," Ego muttered under his breath.

"HEY!" Johnny exclaimed, distracted from Ego's snide aside by the sensation of Karma's hand reaching almost to... He captured her wrist, held it up, and asked accusingly, "If I'm a figment, how come we can touch each other?"

"She's a figment, too," he shot back, and glanced away from the road just long enough to frown at the woman. "For heaven's sake, Karma, can't you keep your hands to yourself?"

"You know I can't help it," she pouted prettily, "I am an Idian, after all!"

"Idian, Idiot... not much difference I can see," Ego muttered again.

With an offended sniff, Karma suddenly shrank to a thin, incandescent line, which collapsed to a single, white-hot dot and blinked out, like the picture on an old black and white TV set.

Johnny's mouth went slack once more. "Where---where'd she go?!"

"Who knows.... who cares? She'll be back, as soon as she gets over her snit."

Johnny fell silent for several blocks. He mulled over the more than seven impossible things he'd been asked to believe in less than two hours. "Wait a minute, if Karma's a figment, too, how come she could sit on the table in the day room? How come she could push the shirts aside in my locker? Heck, if I'm a figment, how come I can sit in this seat? Shouldn't I just sink through to the road? And why should the road stop me? Huh? Answer THAT if you can!"

Ego went through the list with remarkable patience. "Karma knows the technique of manipulating the tangible. She's flighty, and terribly impulsive--- all Idians are---but she's well educated. As for you, if you'll notice, you're not sitting on the seat, you're sitting in it, by about a quarter of an inch. As to why you don't sink right through to the road---or right through the earth itself, for that matter---I can't tell you. I've had it explained to me all my life, and I still don't understand it. Something about magnetic fields and created versus manufactured objects. I'm no physicist, nor theologian. It's just the way things ARE."

A calculating look crossed Johnny's face. "If you teach me that trick for manipulating tangible objects, you can wash your hands of all this and go back... to where ever you came from."

"Absolutely not!" Ego swung smoothly into the long entrance drive of the hospital. "You're in enough trouble as it is."

"Don't try to scare him out of this, Ego!" Karma's disembodied voice spoke from between the two men. She shimmered back into sight. "He's not in trouble, he's on a glorious quest!"

Ego made a rude noise, and ignored them both from that moment on.

John hurried through the Emergency Room entrance doors, watched his twin walking sedately down the hall toward the base station.

"I don't walk like that! Do I?"

"Who cares?" Karma brushed a hand lightly across his. "We have places to go, you and I."

"Uh, where? You still haven't told me what you need me to help you with."

"Why, you must help me find The Lizard, of course!"

John squinted at her, "You gotta be kidding. Did you really say The Lizard?"

"You need to have your hearing checked, John the Dragon-slayer!" Karma's eyes widened in concern. "I think your screaming scarlet steed has begun to drive you deaf!"

"There's nothing wrong with my hearing!" Johnny sputtered, "I just can't believe what you said. The LIZARD???"

She nodded, "What else would we be searching for, but the wondrous Lizard of Id?" She spread her hands, palms up. "It's been missing for almost a month, and no one knows where it went." Her lip quivered. "Id's not a very good place to be, without The Lizard, John of the Neon Sign."

"This is too weird." Johnny passed his hand over his face and closed his eyes. I want to wake up now. He opened his eyes. Karma still stood before him, biting her lip.

"I WANT TO WAKE UP NOW!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. The ER staff didn't spare him a second's notice as they hurried around---and through---the paramedic.

"I gotta get out of here!" he stammered, and turned in a blind panic towards the doors of the Emergency Room. Between one step and the next, his world shattered into multicolor shards, like a pattern in a shaken kaleidoscope. His universe suddenly consisted of only two things. An internal click, somewhere deep in his brain, and the sound of ripping silk.

"How's the patient...Roy?" It WAS Roy, right?

"Well, they still have him in the exam room."

"Then, shall---er, should---we get going?"

Roy narrowed his eyes and regarded his junior partner carefully. "Okay, I give up. What's with the goofy act today?"

Johnny Ego raised his eyebrows and feigned innocence. "Whatever do you mean?" Where the heck is that twerpy other half of me? He's out there having all the fun, and I'm stuck playing word games with this...guy.

When Roy didn't get satisfactory explanation, he asked again, with renewed insistence, "I said, what's up with you today? You sure the heat isn't getting to you too much?"

Johnny Ego looked over at Roy with a senseless grin, "Heat? Yes, that must be it. But I'll be fine, really." What a nuisance this man is.

Though he was still not quite satisfied with the answer he'd been offered, Roy shrugged, making a mental note to keep a close eye on his partner for the rest of their shift.

When Johnny emerged on the other side, he knew only one thing to be true--- he wasn't at Rampart Hospital anymore. Heck, he wasn't even sure he was in L.A. County anymore.

"So, John the Dragon Slayer, are you ready to help me find The Lizard of Id?" Karma's voice moved over him, in a physical sense, each word grazing his very pores.

"What? The Lizard?" Johnny asked in confused wonderment. His own disembodied words washed over him, sending a chill over his body, causing him to tremble.

Somewhere, in this other world, he was vaguely aware that he was sitting in the squad. No, not in the squad, but on the squad--- on the red lights, to be exact.

Roy noticed Johnny trembling out of the corner of his eye. Without warning, he reached across the cab, lightly touching his partner's forehead.

Johnny Ego batted Roy's hand away with a flurry. Geesh! What IS it with this guy---touchy-feely type, or what?

"You've got a fever, you know that, don't you?" Roy asked out of concern.

Wonderful, he's going to go 'paramedic' on me. I'd rather be riding on TOP of this red rolling hunk of steel, Ego moaned to himself.

"Yes, of course I'm hot, it's hot outside!" Johnny Ego reasoned with this Roy-person. That sounded good. It IS hot, right?

"Well yeah, it's hot, but you're warmer than you should be. You sure you're feeling okay?" Roy needled for the umpteenth time. He'd had enough first-hand experience with Johnny's denials in the past to take his word for it now.

"I'm feeling simply wonderful," Johnny Ego assured him, as he knew the 'real' Johnny would be feeling long about now.

Seemingly satisfied, for the time being, Roy let the matter drop and they rode back to the station in silence, much to Ego's relief.

The wind whistled past his eyes in brightly-colored ribbons as the squad roared down the road. Neon colors flashed through his head as the ribbons entwined themselves in his hair and long curled strands wrapped themselves around him. Johnny wasn't sure if he should be alarmed or enthralled at the spectacular display. What he was doing there, and how he had gotten there, Johnny had no clue as he and Karma sat poised on top of the squad's lights. From a far-off distance, he could swear he could hear, no, feel Roy's voice, as it brushed past him.

"Roy?" he asked, shaking his head, hoping his own voice could be heard above the mantra of the wind.

"I told you, he's the enemy," Karma sang into his ears, as she nestled close.

"Enemy?" Johnny asked in bewilderment.

"Why yes, John of the Neon Sign, the enemy. He can never know of our mission to save The Lizard. He would do every thing in his power to stop us, and we can't have that now, can we?" Karma words floated around him on satiny threads.

"No---no---we could never have that---" he answered haltingly.

His speech came slow and thick as he watched his words dance in front of him. Deep down, Johnny knew, or at least he thought he knew, that Roy was not the enemy, but Karma seemed so certain of it. Best to agree with her, for now, until he knew for sure. All he wanted to do right now was find that blasted Lizard so he could sit in the cab of the squad!

Johnny was about to ask Karma where the heck they were supposed to look for this Lizard when the unmistakable sound of ripping silk once again tore through his ears.

"Oh man---not again---."

Roy jumped out of his side of the squad and was halfway to the dayroom before he realized he hadn't heard the other cab door slam shut. He walked back to the squad and peered in through the open window to find Johnny still sitting in place, staring straight ahead.

"Johnny?" Roy try to get his attention. When Johnny didn't respond, he raised his voice a decibel. "JOHNNY!"

Johnny's head snapped to attention at Roy's barking.

"WHAT?" he shouted back.

"You comin'?" Roy asked impatiently.

"Comin'---uh---yeah---" Johnny answered slowly. Roy stood at the window until he was certain his spaced-out partner had stepped out of the squad. Shaking his head as he headed once more for the dayroom, Roy was determined to get to the bottom of Johnny's strange behavior before the end of the shift.

"Hey Roy," Marco greeted the entering paramedic. "Where's Johnny?"

"He's right behind---" Roy started to say, then turned to see that there was no one trailing him. Sighing, he waved off the notion of tracking him down. Johnny was a big boy and he knew where to find them.

"KARMA! Get your sorry butt in here, NOW!" Ego demanded as he stormed into the locker room.

A solitary white-hot dot appeared in the center of the room, expanding into a thin, incandescent line, which seemingly popped open in a dazzling flash, to reveal Karma, in all her glory. A second later, a second white-hot dot materialized. Evolving slower than the first display of light, this dot grew, then fizzled, then expanded again. Karma waited patiently for her protégé to come in on his own. Finally, reaching her hand into the midst of the white light, she balled her hand into a fist and pulled back sharply.

"Whoa---" Johnny reeled backwards when he found himself standing in the middle of the locker room. "How'd I get here?" he asked, blinking in bewilderment.

"Not important, John of the Neon Sign, not important in the least," purred Karma. "Now," she turned to Johnny Ego with a measured amount of disdain, "what is it?"

"I want out of our deal!" Ego demanded. "This Roy character, he's weird!"

Karma giggled lightly at the absurdity of Ego's statement.

"Now, Ego, you know you have to stay, to protect Johnny," she cooed to soothe his rumpled feathers.

"Wait a minute," Johnny interjected, "What do you mean by, 'he's weird'?"

"I mean, Hose Jockey---he touched me! I mean---he keeps bugging me with all these questions and pulling that paramedic routine on me. I mean---he's just flat out WEIRD!" Ego shouted.

Johnny held his index finger in the air, his mouth ajar, as he tried to formulate a thought. Karma, seeing his hesitancy, jumped in to stop him.

"Now, now, it can't be that bad, is it? You've pulled tougher assignments," Karma purred. "I just know you can handle this one. Besides, I'm not done with John just yet---"

"Now WAIT a minute!" Johnny finally found his voice, though he wasn't quite sure it was his. "If Roy's asking questions, that means he's knows something's wrong!" He turned to Karma. "You told me I couldn't---well---be me
---because he was going to keep me out of trouble! It's not working so hot, is it? So why not let me---be me again?" Am I really having this conversation? Let me be me? Sounds like some old song I heard, I think.

Karma was not pleased. Her eyes glowed like a harvest moon. She wasn't done with her John just yet, but the situation was deteriorating fast.

"Well, I suppose you two could share."

"Share?!" Johnny and Ego shouted in unison.

Chet, being the curious sort when it came to Gage, made an excuse to leave the dayroom. If Gage was acting strange, he wanted a front row seat. There could never be enough ammunition for the Phantom's arsenal. As he neared the locker room, he could swear he heard Gage talking to someone. Hoping to overhear some juicy tidbits before entering, he paused outside the door, confused to find out that the only voice he heard was Johnny's.

"Hey Johnny!" Chet called out as he popped his head in the room.

"WHAT!" Johnny snarled, snapping his head around to face the intrusion. "Can't you see we're talking here!"

We? Stealing a glance around to confirm that Johnny was alone, Chet was more than puzzled. Taking that as a cue to leave, he turned about face and went to find Roy. Man, Gage is acting stranger than strange, even for him!

When Roy found Johnny in the locker room, under Chet's advisement, he found him sitting on the bench in front of his locker, staring at his hand.

"You all right, Johnny?" According to Chet's assessment, Johnny had taken a right turn in a left-turn-only lane, and Roy needed to see for himself.

"Roy?"

"Yeah?"

Holding his hands out in front of him, Johnny flipped them over mindfully, palm up---palm down---palm up---palm down--- scrupulously analyzing each digit. "What's the most fingers a person has ever had?"

"Fingers?" Roy asked incredulously, wondering if Chet's evaluation was indeed on target.

"Yeah, some have more than others, right? I read somethin'---once---" I think---

I told you this wasn't going to work! Ego scolded Karma as he was forced to share the same space with Johnny, being forced to examine their hands. He can't keep himself out of trouble. You should have never let him take over again, for even a minute!

With a sigh of relief, Roy thought he finally understood where Johnny was going with this latest rant. As he explained to Johnny that, yes, some people were born with extra fingers, Johnny continued to be fascinated by the ten fingers in front of him--- on each hand.

See, Ego? Karma grinned slyly, tilting her head towards the duo. He got himself out of this fix. I think our John of the Neon Sign will be just fine---

Give him more time, Ego glared, give him time. He'll screw up.

"Oh, hush up!" Johnny whispered loudly, nodding his head in Karma's direction. Geesh, and they think I'm gonna screw up. If those two don't shut up, Roy's gonna hear 'em!

"Excuse me?" Roy halted in mid-sentence when Johnny shushed him.

"Huh?--- Nothin'." Johnny was deep in thought. Man, that was close---see what you guys almost made me do? Roy's really gonna think I'm nuts now!

Just about the time Roy decided that maybe he'd better have a closer look at his partner, the tones sounded---

"Station 51, structure fire, 1312 Escondido, 1-3-1-2 Escondido, cross street Carlsbad. Timeout: 23:10"

Johnny watched the address scroll across the call slip like a trained troupe of contortionist worms. One by one, the letters disappeared off the left edge. Flipping the paper over, he watched the performance repeat. " 'Sfamiliar," he mumbled, turning the paper over again, to keep up with the ink ballet.

"Huh?"

"The address-- familiar, but I don't know where I've heard it before." The overpowering scent of the siren as it rasped through his skull made it difficult to concentrate.

"Mind navigating, then?" Roy snarled, pulling his partner's gaze from the scrap of paper he stared at intently.

"Oh, yeah-- take the next right and then...um.... the first left. Kim."

"Excuse me?"

"Kim... Kim Jacobs." Her name tasted like icewater. "Kim Jacobs, " he repeated, to enjoy the sensation again.

"What about her?" Roy asked with elaborate patience.

"It's her address!"

Stepping into the house was like stepping into absolute blackness. The smoke hung, inpenetrable, within inches of the floor. The roar of the fire, and the hiss of the water evaporating into scalding steam doomed any hope of verbal communciation. This fire was a dragon, indeed. A very lethal one.

Roy thumped his partner on the shoulder, and gestured towards his left. Johnny nodded, and began crawling towards the right, sweeping his hands in front of him, the life rope unwinding from his belt.

If they found Kim, reported to be inside, it would be by touch alone. If they found her alive, it would be a miracle.

Johnny groped his way down what seemed to be a hallway, doing his best to work from one side to the other, searching for doorways. Sweat poured down his face, fogged his mask, stung his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear away both the salty liquid and the amorphous colors that swirled against the blank canvas of the black wall of smoke.

Entering infernos for a living... I understand the altruistic urge, but John, you should seriously consider another profession. Strictly for your own best interests, you understand...

"Ego, either shut up, or help me out here," Johnny snarled to the avatar sharing his headspace.

His hand finally found a doorframe. Reaching up, his fingers bumped against the knob, grabbed on, and began to twist.

STOP!!

The outburst was so frantic, Johnny reflexively jerked his hand away.

That was close, too damn close! Ego snapped. Come on, John-- pull it together, or you're going to turn both of us into crispy critters!

His air bottle clanged against the heavy oak of the door as he slumped back to floor level. "Why? What did I do wrong?"

Does the term 'BACKDRAFT' tweak your memory?? Ego roared.

"Oh, man! Oh, man..." Johnny's heart pounded as he realized what he could have unleashed by carelessly opening that door. He tugged his right glove off, and ran it over the wood. It was no hotter than the air. Closing his bare fingers around the doorknob, he found it too, bearably cool.

In the instant between the opening of the door, and the roiling entrance of the heavy smoke, Johnny caught a glimpse something large and nonhuman, scurrying across the floor. A bell jingled brightly as it moved.

The LIZARD!! Karma squealed with excited delight behind him. Johnny's breath left him with a grunt as Karma took the direct route into the room. Straight up his spine.

Bounding off his helmet like a springboard, she made a dive for the scaly apparition as it tried to escape under a heavy dresser. Closing her hands around the thick, striped tail, she hauled back with all her might.

Help me, Dragon-slayer! He's getting away!

Roy was beginning to weigh the remaining seconds he had on his airbottle against the time it would take to follow his life line back out to clear air, when his fingers bumped something soft. It yielded with the unmistakable resiliancy of human flesh.

Stripping off his gloves, he shifted the woman onto her back. She still had a pulse. He felt in his turnout coat for the strips of cotton jersey he kept there, and used the soft cloth to bind her wrists together. He considered putting his air mask on her, then shook his head. He needed the oxygen, if either of them was to have a chance of getting out.

Roy straddled her body, ducked his head through her trussed arms, and began to crawl back along his life line, dragging the victim beneath him.

With great gratitude, Roy crept over the doorsill out into the coolness of the night air. Pulling himself to his feet, he lifted the girl to his shoulder and staggered towards assistance.

The paramedics called in on the second alarm took his limp burden. Roy was more than willing to let them take over. He leaned against the corner of the engine, panting heavily, and watched the house burn. We aren't gonna win this one. From behind him, he heard a gasp, then strangled, choking coughs, as the woman he'd rescued began to breath on her own. We have won this one, he corrected, watching her stir as consciousness began to return.

 A heavy tap on his shoulder turned his attention.

"Where's Johnny?" Cap all but shouted, over the noise of the working fire.

"He hasn't come out?"

At Cap's headshake, Roy jerked a fresh bottle off the truck and shoved his arms through the straps.

"Whoa there, Pal-- you ok to go back in?"

"Yeah!" Roy jogged back towards the conflagration. Adrenaline and fear gave him a renewed burst of energy and strength that he'd pay dearly for, later. He charged back towards the porch, dropped to his knees in the doorway. His hand closed around John's lifeline and he tugged, his heart in his mouth. The line went taunt.

At least, it hasn't burned through... That was all the optimism he allowed himself, as he clambered over the throbbing hoselines covering the floor, Johnny's lifeline slipping through his gloved palm.

In a few seconds, he reached the end of the relative safety of the hose lines. He leaned his helmet against Chet's, relying on conduction to communicate. "JOHNNY??" he shouted.

Chet shook his head, his blue eyes wide and worried behind his smeared mask.

Shitshitshit... his mind chanted like a scatological mantra, as he followed the line, on all fours once more, out past the spray from the hose lines. The heat began to turn the wetness that had seeped under his turnouts to steam. Everywhere air was trapped, Roy felt his skin begin to scald. Shitshitshit...

After two and a half eternities, Roy rounded a corner and found himself facing the Beast itself. The fire roared, managing to cut through its own thick smoke enough to create a pulsating wall of red-orange light. Silhouetted against the glow was a firefighter, standing stock still. The warning bell on the figure's tank rang continuously, barely audible above the fire's din.

"JOHNNY!!" Roy bellowed, and gave the line in his hand a sharp yank.

The figure staggered, then turned-- "ROY??"

The enemy! Karma shrieked into Johnny's ear, her voice brittle with fear. He'll take the Lizard from us, John! He'll destroy us all!  She tugged frenziedly on his arm, pulling him around. Your sign, Dragon-slayer! Your sign will save us! She swung her hand towards the roaring glow.

The red-orange ether... Johnny moved towards it once more, mesmerized.

Karma, wait! He can't.... Ego's exclamation was cut off by the sensation of another violent jerk on the lifeline fastened to Johnny's waist, as Roy began to reel his unresponsive partner in, hand over hand.

He's winning! Karma shrieked, pulling against the draw of the rope. The enemy is winning!

Johnny leaned back against the traction, his head pounding. Greyness encroached on the edges of his vision. Every sound became muffled, except for Karma's sobbed Fight him, Dragon-slayer! and the continual jangle of a discordant bell.

Johnny's fingers closed around the entry tool hanging on the front of his turnout. With numbed, almost unresponsive muscles, he pulled it from the loops and began to slash at the lifeline.

"JOHNNY!!" Roy bellowed. The taunt line snapped, sending him sprawling.

His partner staggered, then turned and fled towards the holocaust.

"NO!!"  Roy scrambled to his feet, took a few running steps, and launched himself at John. His shoulder impacted the back of John's knees, knocking him to the floor, scant feet from the crematory heat of the flames.

Johnny squirmed desperately. Roy grabbed onto his partner's SCBA straps and held on for dear life, throwing his weight over his partner's chest. Johnny bucked, almost pitching Roy off by dint of sheer fear-enhanced strength.

Their masks almost touching, Roy could see John's panicked, uncomprehending expression. "Johnny! It's Roy! It's Roy!"

Without warning, John's eyes rolled back, and he went limp. No more air in the bottle.

Drawing a deep breath, Roy stripped his mask off and pulled it over his partner's face. Racing against his own body's need for oxygen, he bound Johnny's wrists, as he had the girl's. He took the mask from John long enough to draw another chest-full of air, replaced it,  and began to drag them both towards safety.

His muscles screamed protest, and their progress was agonizingly slow. Roy was forced to stop every few seconds, to take the mask and draw another breath. Hold out, hold out...

Nothing mattered, except following his line back out. Nothing. Nothing existed, save that line under his hand and the body dragging beneath him.

He was lifted. The air grunted out of him as his abdomen impacted against... something. Roy panted, his vision filled with swaying canvas, at very close range. What? his mind mumbled, then went silent and dark.

Chet and Marco lurched out of the building, stumbling under the burden of their crewmates. With all lives cleared from the building, the interior attack was abandoned. Time to surround and drown.

A few whiffs of pure O₂ brought Roy out of his faint. "Johnny!" he burst out, bolting upright as he clawed the mask away from his face.

"Take it easy, Roy! He's ok!" Jim Mullins, one of 36's paramedics, restrained Roy with one hand, and pointed with the other.

Roy's eyes followed the gesture.

Johnny lay on the ground, an oxygen mask on his face. He looked anything but ok. A soot-streaked Kim crouched near his head, calling his name softly as she stroked his matted hair. Ken, Jim's partner, was taking John's vitals.

To Roy's overwhelming relief, Johnny's head began to turn from side to side.

"The Lizard," he moaned, and began to cough. "Gotta grab the Lizard... AGGH!"

Ken grabbed at his patient as Johnny began beating at an odd bulge in his turnout coat. A writhing bulge.

"KARMA!! Get this thing off of me! He's clawing my hide off! KARMA! "

Ken managed to control John's gyrations long enough to wrestle the coat open. With a yelp, he scrambled backwards in shock. A fringed, grotesque reptilian head, as big as a man's fist,  poked out from under the canvas and hissed.

"Ozwald!" the young woman cried with delight, and hugged the scaly monstrosity. "Johnny, you saved Ozwald!" The agitated iguana struggled in her arms, the bell on its collar jingling sporadically.

Johnny scrambled to his feet, hauling Ken right along with him.

His eyes wild, Johnny angrily addressed thin air. "Karma, take your ****in' Lizard and get out of my life! I've had it to HERE with both of you! Ego, get the hell out of my head! You two are crazy, crazy!! Find yourselves another Dragon-slayer, I'm THROUGH!!"

Roy grabbed his lunatic partner. It took some doing, but Johnny was at last wrestled to the grass again, struggling against his captors, raving hoarsely about enemies and Lizards and glorious quests.

As soon as the door opened, Roy was on his feet. "Have you found out anything?"

"Your hunch was right, about the soda being tampered with," Brackett's face twisted in an expression of disgust.

"What was in it?"

"Lysergic acid diethylamide-- enough to trip out an entire high school marching band. There was even still a bit of a gelatin 'windowpane' clinging to the inside of the empty cup John left out in the squad. I have no doubt it was as heavily laced as yours."

"And he drank it all, and most of mine, too!"

Kel's hand went reassuringly to the paramedic's shoulder. "There's no lethal dose for LSD, Roy."

"Isn't there anything else you can do for him, Doc?"

"I'm sorry, Roy, but restraint and sedation are all there is to do. His system has to clear the drug on its own."

DeSoto winced as he watched his partner straining against the straps that held him in the bed. Johnny muttered continuously, still lost in some stressful hallucination.

A few days and several realities later....

They stepped out of the stinking hallway of the fleabag hotel, and drew grateful breaths of slightly less odiferous smog. Arms laden by heavy equipment made heavier by hauling it up four flights and back down again on a crank call, the partners headed for the squad.

A snatch of harmonica blues caught Johnny's attention. He looked towards the sound. An outlaw biker sat on his machine, one foot propped on the crash bar. The huge man blew another few bars of Delta angst and winked at the paramedic.

Gage turned back to the squad,  and loaded the equipment back into the bays. But his mind wasn't on the task at hand. "Roy, what do you call it when you feel like you've seen somethin' before, that you know you haven't seen before?"

"Déjà vu?"

"Yeah, that's it...." Johnny slammed the storage bay door, and started to climb into the cab. He froze, an odd expression crossing his face.

"Johnny?"

"The biker!" he blurted, and darted back towards the old hotel.

Biker? What biker? Roy hurried after his errant partner.

Johnny skidded to a stop, staring slack-jawed into the trashstrewn alley. "Where'd he go?"

"Who?"

"The biker!" Johnny turned to his partner and elaborated, "That day I got drugged, there was this big biker sitting on the running board, when I went back to the squad! He said he'd guarded our stuff, and then he slapped me on the back and told me 'have a nice trip, man!' Have a nice trip!"

"And you saw him again, just now?"

"Yeah! He was right HERE, sitting on his chopper, playing his harmonica!" Johnny did a turn, scanning the surroundings.

"Johnny, this is a dead end street. He'd had to have passed us, to leave."

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Of course I believe you," Roy said with careful evenness. He touched Johnny's arm. "Let's get going."

"I swear, Roy, he was right here! Not thirty seconds ago!"

"I'm sure he was. Come on, Junior. We need to swing by Rampart, to.... um... pick up some supplies." 
 
 As he shepherded his partner back to the squad, a small breeze scattered the papers littering the street, and in some distant window, set glass windchimes tinkling like laughter.

Authors' Notes:

Theresa:

Thanks, Erin, for the idea that kicked this whole trip off. Thanks, too, for keeping me from deleting this, several times along the way. You have the patience of a saint!

MJ, well, Sis-- what can I say? Everytime I think of Johnny, doing a backflip over that bench, I laugh out loud. Thanks for helping me torment the boy! Thank you, too, for combing through this and catching the goofs and-- um-- unintentional double-entendres.

Di, I owe you a huge debt of gratitude for breaking through the months of writer's block with some of the best bits in this tale! Thanks so much! The chat was a blast...

ErinLindsey:

Thanks Theresa, for putting up with all my crazy suggestions during our IM chats, (and actually using a couple of them too!) Its been a Long Strange 6 (or is it 7) months.

Di, Thanks for breaking the Wall of Writer's Block!!

MJ:

It was all Theresa's fault. Honest.

Catch a ride back to the Flight Deck...