by maven

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: ER belongs to NBC and their lackeys. All characters you don't recognize from ER are likely mine. The name Jo Polniaczek was used by the show Facts of Life but the actual character is original. I know, just change the last name, 'duh.

SUBTEXT and VIOLENCE DISCLAIMER: Yes, maintext.  No.

CONTINUITY DISCLAIMER: For ER up until Rampage. Outrigger is set in the alternate universe outlined in The Thing series.

EXPLANATION AND FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: Hmm, Tucker's fault. Honest.
 

FEEDBACK, COMMENT AND FLAMES: Email at maven369@sympatico.ca

"Wanna listen to some music?"

"That’s against regs."

"Tape or me singing. Those are your choices."

Jo sighed. "Whachya got?"

Sawyer flipped through the cassettes. "Sophie B. Hawkins. Indigo Girls, you ever heard of them?"

Grateful that she wasn’t drinking coffee Jo nodded.

"They’re kinda folky. Wasn’t sure. Melissa Etheridge, ummm, I just grabbed a few…"

"You trying to tell me something, Sawyer?"

Sawyer looked up from rummaging in the duffle. "I said I wanted to listen to music."

"I meant the artists. They’re all..." Jo waved her hand around in a vague gesture.

"Female. Yeah. Sorry, let me look. Hey, Age of Consent! I haven’t played that in years!"

Jo inwardly shook her head in amazement, unsure if Sawyer were as clueless as she was making out or if this was just some grand, chain yanking practical joke.

One could never be sure with Sawyer.

"How do you think he gets his voice so high?" Sawyer asked as the Bronski Beat tape began.

"I’m sure I don’t want to know."

+++++

The rig skidded to a stop, bumper nearly touching the police car and Jo muttered darkly as Sawyer threw herself from the door. After a week of partnership Jo had yet to convince Sawyer that the seat belt should remain, as per regs, on until the rig was stopped. Hell, she could barely convince Sawyer to remain *in* the rig until it was stopped.

By the time Jo arrived at the car Sawyer had the drug box spread out. "I'm using a neck collar for the passenger, no air bag. Driver is fine, no other passengers. Wanna check out the other vehicle? Shout if you need anything."

Leaving Sawyer to argue the definition of ‘fine’ with the irate driver Jo hurried to the other vehicle. From the looks of it the accident was a classic 'I can beat the red/I can jump the green' collision, Jo thought. The trucks were arriving, gear being unloaded to free the driver of the ‘I can jump the green’ Chrysler.

The occupants of 'beat the red' Ford encircled the car, yelling loudly in Spanish while a small child wailed inside. The answering cops were there as well, trying to translate the father's wild gestures into something recognizable. With a somewhat limited Spanish vocabulary Jo was able to catch the word for "baby" but a quick glance in the back seat showed the upset toddler safely encased in his car seat.

Jo nearly knocked herself out when she ducked back down to do a double take at the back seat.

"Sawyer!"

"What!"

"Need you here!"

Sawyer waved over at the newly arriving rig. "Can't they take over?"

Jo watched the two paramedics exit the second ambulance. Dom and Brian were rumoured to be able to bench press a Volvo, which made them favourites at accident scenes were brute strength was necessary.

"No. Get over here. And bring the gurney and extra blankets."

A minute later Sawyer was at the car. "This had better be... oh my God."

"Yeah. Get in there."

"Me! I don't know nothin' about birthin' no babies!"

"You're the only one that fits, Sawyer."

"Fucking discrimination if you ask me," Sawyer said, squeezing into the back seat. "Y'all better hope I was awake and sober during this course."

"Just... do what comes naturally," Jo suggested. "It'll be a piece of cake."

"You tell me what is natural about giving birth to a baby in the back of a '89 Ford on Morgan Street in fucking rush hour!"

Around then the conversation switched entirely to screaming Spanish as Sawyer yelled instructions, the father encouragement, the mother curses and the toddler on general principle.

"Okay, I think everything's stopped for now. Let's get her into the rig."

"I dunno. What if she has the baby on the way?"

"Better in the rig than a Ford. That's all I should need to say here, Jo."

"Okay, let's go."

"Yeah, and get Dom to drive so you can ride with me."

"What!"

"Let Hans and Franz do the guy thing and drive the rigs and you help me."

"But but but…"

"One of the fireman paramedics can ride with the whiner."

"But but but…"

"Jo, it's just a baby. Nature. Piece of cake, right?"

+++++

"What have you got?"

"We called in for OB doctor."

"And you got me. Ex-OB nurse and Trauma nurse."

"An ex-nurse?" Sawyer asked sharply. "Why ex?"

"Medical student. What have you got?"

"Aren't we lucky? Well, Nurse Two-in-One we got a fifteen minute old baby. Pulse and blood pressure good for a baby. One female, late 20s, very conscious, pulse and BP good for someone that just spent the last half hour screaming at the top of her lungs. One male, late 20s, very unconscious, pulse and BP good for a wuss that faints at the first sign of blood," Sawyer said.

"Please pardon Sawyer. She's never had a baby before."

"And you've had how many?"

"Delivered three. Including twins."

"And you never told me!"

"Learning experience."

"You're lucky Nurse... Nurse."

"Abby."

"Nurse Abby."

"Just Abby."

"Lucky Just Abby is trauma trained because I'm going to trauma you."

"Now Sawyer..."

"Now Polziaczek..."

"You two want to go get the father from your rig? You can put the whole family in Exam Three."

"Half the family, Nurse Abby. The grandparents and other kids are on their way. And you'd better get a translator because they strained my Spanish skills to the limit."

"Come on, Sawyer, I’ll buy you a coffee to make up for the learning experience."

"It’s gonna take more than a cup of coffee to erase the trauma, Polziaczek. But it’s a start."

+++++

"Splain this again."

"They want to name the baby after you," Chuny said slowly for the third time.

"They want to name the baby after me?"

"It's fairly common," Jo said. "They named the twins Joseph and Josephine after me. Sort of an homage."

"That's not an homage. That's sick."

"Come on, Sawyer. What's the T stand for?" Chuny asked.

"Yeah, what does the T stand for?" Jo asked.

"You wouldn't want to name a boy that. You wouldn't want to name anything that."

"Tell that to her," Chuny said, jerking her head down toward the doorway of Exam Three where the three hundred year old, mummified matriarch stood glaring at Sawyer."

+++++

"So Sawyer leans down and whispers something into the old lady's ear and---"

Jo paused dramatically and the group of fire-fighters and paramedics all waited. There was a mix of two shifts as people gathered in the mess to catch up on the gossip.

"---And then she took a step back and made the sign of the cross at Sawyer."

The crowd around the mess table laughed. "So, what does the T stand for?"

"I never did learn, Sandy. She didn't say then and she hasn't talked to me since. She's in Yensen's office doing a debrief on the delivery."

"She that mad at you? That she's not talking at all?"

"I don't see why," Jo said defensively. "I mean, I was right there. And I would have suggested Dom driving the rig if she hadn't. It wasn't like she was being thrown to wolves."

The crowd shifted uneasily, the fine line between razzing the new guy and looking out for your partner being clearly fuzzy at this point.

"Hey, what's up?" Sawyer asked from the doorway.

"Just talking," Jo said cautiously, the kitchen quickly clearing as those coming on shift headed out to prepare and those going off shift decided now was a good time to go home.

Sawyer smiled bemusedly as Dom and Brian brushed past her on the way out. "Man, can I clear a room? Anything I need to know before next shift, Jo?"

"Ah, no," Jo said. Sawyer nodded and turned to leave. "Ah, Tee?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"There's some updates for the manual we'll need to go over first thing next shift."

"Chris told me about them in the debrief. Anything else?"

"Ah, no," Jo said. Sawyer nodded and turned to leave again. "Ah, Tee?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"That was good work out there. With the baby and all."

"Yeah, well, nature. Late model Ford and rush hour notwithstanding. See you in a couple of days."

"Well, just wanted to say," Jo said as Sawyer again turned to leave. "Ah, Tee?"

"Yes, Jo?"

"You, ah, got plans? I thought we could maybe spend a little off duty time and..."

Sawyer winced, whether at the suggestion or her next words. "Just made other plans. I think Yensen felt sorry for me and is treating me to a video takeout. Maybe some other time."

Jo nodded, vaguely aware of feelings of disappointment and guilt. "What are you going to watch?"

"Some thriller I think. Umm, Following Abby, no, Pursuing, no, Hunting, no… Hey! Chris! What's the name of the video?"

"Chasing Amy," Chris Yensen said as she appeared in the doorway behind Sawyer.

"Right, Chasing Amy," Sawyer agreed.

"Chasing Amy. A thriller," Jo said, beginning to suspect that the entire universe was in on some cosmic practical joke that only she was unaware of.

"Maybe one of those comedy thrillers. Like Bandits."

"Well, tell me about it. Okay?"

"Sure. C'mon, Chris."

+++++

"Did you ever think that the entire universe is in on some cosmic practical joke that only you're unaware of?" Jo asked Sandy roughly 45 hours later.

Sandy looked up from her breakfast that consisted of all four food groups, fried in about a quarter pound of butter. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said. Like everything happens just to amuse someone."

Sandy regarded her for a moment. "God is watching you. And he's laughing."

"That's not funny."

"It's not meant to be. He is."

"Glad someone is enjoying my life. Is that the official Catholic line? God is watching and laughing at you?"

"Not exactly. And I'm a bad person to ask."

"Ah yes, you're not a good Catholic girl anymore."

Sandy grinned, a grin that combined a leer with come hither eyes and for a brief moment Jo wished that things had gone beyond friendship with them.

"Right now I'm a very bad Catholic," Sandy said before looking down at her plate, suddenly serious. "And will be until things change. Now, why are you providing God with his morning chuckle?"

"There's this person."

"A woman because you're doing the pronoun thing and because guys don't get you all religious. At least, not that way."

"Shut up. Why do I talk to you?"

"I'm cute, funny, intelligent, gay, in the same line of work and I put up with you. Now, this person. Straight or not?"

"Don't know."

"Well, do you think they're interested in you?"

"Don't know."

"But you like them. Right?"

"I don't know," Jo said, lowering her head until her forehead rested on the table and bouncing it slightly so that it made nice, satisfying thunk sounds until Sandy slid a paper napkin under it.

"Let me summarize," Sandy said. "You may or may not be interested in a woman who may or may not be interested in you and who may or may not be gay."

"Yeah. That covers it."

"Why don't you ask?"

Jo shot upright. "I can't!" she said in panic.

Sandy munched on some toast thoughtfully. "You've got a crush on Sawyer," she said.

Thunk thunk thunk.

"Stop that. You're scaring the customers and they'll kick us out. What's the problem?"

"She brings, like, the complete lesbian music collection to listen to in the rig but seems totally oblivious to the fact that any of them are gay. She'll babble on and on about this book she's reading by some Rule chick and the characters and then drop that its Ann Rule. Yensen and she had a video pizza party during the down shift and were going to watch Chasing Amy. I'm so confused."

"Stop whining. Think she's testing the water or pulling your leg?"

"I can't tell," Jo said, continuing to whine. "She's got this Texas gosh-shucks naïve thing going. And Yensen is Canadian with that whole bizarre sense of humour thing. Like the national sport up there is tormenting Americans."

"You're screwed. Figuratively speaking that is."

"Thanks. What should I do?"

"Well, either try to sound out Sawyer with increasingly harder hints or..."

"Or?"

"Get over it."

+++++

"So, whachya listening to?" Jo asked, perched on the side of her bunk. One thing she liked about Sawyer was that she didn't listen to her Discman at boombox decibel levels.

"Lucinda Williams."

"Oh," Jo said, trying to think of something to say about an artist that she'd never heard of without sounding stupid. Failing that she changed the subject. "How was the video?"

"Well, it started off about comic books and was real slow. Didn't get very thrilling so we talked the video store into exchanging it for Unbreakable instead."

Jo nodded. "Because it's about comic books too."

"No, because it was by the guy who made Sixth Sense and we hadn't seen it. The comic book thing is just one of those cosmic joke coincidences."

"Hoooo-kay," Jo said, desperately trying to control the conversation but saved finally by the alarm klaxon.

+++++

"Okay, just breath normally," Jo instructed, holding the mask until the man nodded and his panicked breathing had begun to slow. Around the stillness of the back of the rig there was utter chaos as more fire engines and ambulances arrived. There were, Jo reflected two kinds of bad fires. More engine bad and more ambulance bad. This one was a tossup.

"I need the burn kit," Sawyer said, depositing a firefighter on the bumper of the ambulance before jumping inside and returning with another oxygen setup and the large plastic box containing the specialized dressings. "They plan twoed us. Chris arrived about five minutes ago. Our rig has been designated oxygen and Hans and Franz are burn. Everyone else is transport. This guy okay?"

Jo glanced down at the portable monitor. "Yeah. A few more minutes. How bad?"

Sawyer seemed to hesitate as she adjusted the mask over the soot stained face of the exhausted and oblivious firefighter. His heavy coat was singed and darkened in several places. "Lopez's line got hit by a collapsing ceiling. Nothing bad, just a lot of little burns. They're fine. Dave here just sucked too much smoke when he lost his air mask."

Jo released a breath and nodded. "Better run that kit then. I can handle this."

Nodding Sawyer headed back to the other rig where Yensen was directing triage. "Y'all going to call the wagon?"

"On its way. Likely won't need it but better safe. And a good drill," Yensen said, referring to the large van that contained extra medical supplies and equipment and that was, thankfully, terribly underused. "What's Jo got?"

"Two. Dave Roberts, one of Sandy's guys, and a derelict that was sleeping in the basement. Smoke inhalation only. She cleared a few firefighters who went too long on an empty bottle a few minutes ago. I think they're back in there."

"Derelict?" Sandy asked sharply from where she was crouched beside one of her men.

"Yeah. Just smoke. Lucky sommobich."

"Ratty old army surplus coat? Blackhawks knit cap?"

"Uhhh, yeah. Sounds like-- where you going?"

"Kill somebody!"

"Get her. Dom! Follow them!"

With something very close to alarm Jo looked up to see the strange procession bearing down on her. Sandy was in the lead, helmet gone, coat singed and nearly as black as her expression. Sawyer was next, nearly catching up with Sandy before she slipped in a small slick of water, losing a few seconds but not her balance. Dom was bringing up the rear, neither gaining nor slowed by the water. The man beside her yelled something muffled by the oxygen mask while the derelict tossed his roughly aside.

"God damned fire bug," Lopez yelled before the train hit and Jo lost all track of everyone.

"Knife!"

"Bastard!"

"Get 'im down!"

"Watch it!"

Five seconds later it was over. Dom and Sawyer had the derelict on the ground, one arm outstretched with a large knife near his hand. Sandy was crouched down, holding her arm as Dave hovered protectively over her. Two police officers and Yensen arrived.

"I suppose there's an explanation for this," asked one of the cops who looked just as confused as Jo felt.

"Suspected arsonist. He was at the scene of three other fires over the last two years that we know about," Sandy said.

"And he pulled a knife on the Lieutenant."

"Right. We'll take him then." Without much further fanfare the two police officers cuffed and half dragged the man away.

"Let me see," Yensen ordered Sandy. She peeled away the jacket from the wound. "You need to go to the hospital."

"Not until this is contained I don't."

Yensen sighed. "No, but you stay out. Keep pressure on it. Understood?" Sandy nodded. "Right. Jo, Sawyer, you take her in. Last rig out, okay?"

"Got it," Sawyer said.

"Fine. You'll know where to find me. Dom, let's get back."

+++++

"This is taking too damn long," Sawyer muttered for the hundredth time.

"Calm down," Sandy said. "It just stings a bit."

"It's been ten minutes."

"Well, I waited longer at the scene than here so I don't..."

"Screw it. Squeaky wheel gets the grease."

"Um, Sawyer? What are..."

"Right! Listen up," Sawyer yelled at the top of her lungs. "I have an injured person here and if I don't see a fucking doctor now and I mean a real doctor and not a candy assed intern and by now I mean… Hey! You!"

Jo paled as she realized that Sawyer had attracted the attention of the Chief of Trauma herself. "Oh, God," hissed Sandy beside her. "She's so dead."

"Do you work here?" Sawyer continued, oblivious to Jo and Sandy's horror. "Are you a doctor?"

Weaver raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I'm Dr. Weaver. I'm the Chief of Emergency Medicine here."

"You run this place?" Sawyer asked in amazement.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, you're doing a piss poor job, Weaver, if it takes ten minutes to get someone to see a fire fighter who's bleeding all over the floor."

A stunned hush fell over the emergency department as everyone froze before frantically looking for something to do that would take them very far away from the imminent explosion. There was a heartbeat of hesitation from Weaver before she merely nodded, as if to herself and then pushed past Sawyer to get at Sandy.

"What happened to your arm, Sandy? Jo, can you release the pressure so I can see?"

"Their patient turned out to be the fire bug," Sandy said. She'd managed to get the heavy coat off and Jo had converted her shirt to a short sleeved with a pair of surgical scissors so that the wound was easy to access.

"So he pulled a knife," added Jo, "when Mighty Mouse here confronted him."

"Not the smartest thing I've ever done," Sandy admitted.

"Damn right," muttered Sawyer from behind Weaver.

"Go to that desk and ask for a suture kit," Weaver said, turning to Sawyer and pointing to the admit desk where the clerk was making a poor attempt to disguise the fact that she was watching the scene.

"I'm your lackey now?"

"We're busy and that's fastest."

Sawyer nodded, trotting over to the admit desk. "I need a suture kit for the Doc with the crutch."

"Dr. Weaver."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Doctor," the clerk said, motioning for Sawyer to follow, "Kerry. Weaver. MD. Medical doctor. Chief of Trauma. Not," she continued as she led Sawyer into the suture room, grabbed a suture kit and shoved it forcibly into Sawyer's chest, "Doc with the crutch. Got it?"

"Oh, yeah," Sawyer said. "Thanks."

"I'll need to cut some more here," Weaver said as Sawyer returned, trimming a bit more shirt sleeve before beginning to clean the wound. Taking the hypodermic she reflexively checked the dosage before administering the shot.

"Shallow," Weaver said as she began to stitch, "lots of blood but no muscle damage. Needless to say you're on light duty until this heals properly and needless to say I'll be emailing your supervisor to make sure the paperwork doesn't get lost."

Weaver snipped the last stitch close and affixed a sterile bandage before gathering up the remains of the kit.

"Any questions?"

"Yeah, you work a lot of shifts?" Sawyer asked.

"I do. Why?"

"Figuring the odds of running into you again."

"Near a hundred percent if you've pissed her off," Jo heard herself say as she desperately tried to figure out why Sawyer was asking.

Sawyer looked honestly puzzled. "Did I do that?"

Jo and Sandy nodded their heads up and down but Weaver just shook hers. "Not at all. You pointed out an area of concern that I need to review with the staff. I'm grateful."

Sawyer's eyes went wide in surprise. "I did piss you off."

"Yeah but I got over it."

"Good, good," Sawyer said. "Say, listen, can I ask you a personal question?"

Weaver nodded before holding up a hand to excuse herself as two other doctors walk by.

"You on schedule today, Dr. Legaspi?"

"Leaving at five, Dr. Weaver. Be there or be square."

The three watched Weaver watch Legaspi as she headed to the elevator before turning back to Sawyer. "You have a question?"

"Nooooo," Sawyer drawled with a grin. "I mean, I did but I think I got the answer. And to my next question too. You have a good day, Doc. Sandy if you're finished goofin' off we can drop you at the station."

And with a bemused and bewildered smile Jo followed Sandy and Sawyer, wondering if the day, or her life, could get any weirder.

The End

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