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.

REALISM DISCLAIMER: Not very realistic at all, I suspect. The fire station is a cross between information found about the Chicago Fire Department, Chicago Emergency Medical Service (wonderful sites at http://www.ci.chi.il.us/Fire/, http://www.enteract.com/~rjs/cfd/ and http://www.emergency.com/cfdpage.htm) and my somewhat hazy memory of the old TV show Emergency! (Go Roy!). I've also been told (nay, commanded by the Infamous Tucker Glenn) to watch Third Watch for research or else. The designations that I've used are, to the best of my knowledge, not assigned to any vehicle or firehouse in the Chicago Fire Department.

Speaking of websites, while perusing the one for Cook County Hospital I discovered that the real CCH has more Emergency Department doctors in administration positions than have ever been shown working on the show. Honestly. Which I'm ignoring because, damn, that much realism would just wreck the manic, frantic tone. But if you want to check it out http://www.cchil.org/Cch/cook.htm is the place to go.

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

"She was hitting on Weaver."

"She was insulting the woman."

"For Sawyer, that would be flirting," Jo insisted.

Sandy shook her head. "I dunno."

"I know! Why don't you ask her?"

"What?"

"You know, say you heard that someone at the station was asking if she was interested in maybe dating someone at the station."

"You're joking."

"No, it's great. No risk."

"For you. I, on the other hand, have a rep to protect." Sandy's voice shifted into a high, singsong," Gosh Jo, couldn't we just slip a note into her locker while she's in chemistry class?"

"You don't have to help."

"Good."

"Please please please?"

"The whining is new. I don't like it."

"It's not whining," Jo insisted. "It's begging."

"It's cowardly."

"Please? I'll owe you."

Sandy cocked her head, considering it. "Good, I'll call it in now. I do this, you sign up for the cross training course in two months."

"What?"

"I find out what Sawyer's intentions are towards you and you do your best to get your Suppression and Rescue certification."

Jo stared at her in amazement.

"Well?" Sandy finally asked.

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Yeah, I do."

"I don't know."

"She not worth it?"

"Do all lieutenants play dirty like this?"

"Part of the exam. What do you say?"

Jo paused. "Fine. I'll sign up. I'll do my best. You," she said, pointing at Sandy, "will not razz me if I choke."

"Deal."

"Am I going to regret this?"

"Oh," Sandy said, waving of the suggestion casually. "Probably."

+++++

If she didn't come to regret it through God and fate, Sandy thought to herself an hour later, I will make her regret this.

"Sandwich, Lieutenant," Sawyer asked as she reached up to pull down a sandwich plate.

"Call me Sandy," Sandy said, grateful that the kitchen was vacant.

"Oh, no, Lieutenant. I couldn't call you that on duty."

"Well, we're on break."

"No, it's still on duty," Sawyer said.

"Okay. Well, you're not in my chain of command."

"No, that's true. But if I call you Sandy then I might call Chief Roberts Bill and that's just wrong."

It was about then, when Sandy realized that Sawyer's accent had switched from ubiquitous to southern, that Sandy figured she was being played.

"What about Chris?"

"Well, she made it an order. Said I was to call her Chris instead of Lieutenant Yensen or I'd have to put all the drugs in all the drug boxes into alphabetical order at the beginning of my shift for a month."

"Okay, I order you to call me Sandy."

"But you're not in my chain of command," Sawyer said, handing Sandy a peanut butter and jelly and banana sandwich.

"Right, of course not," Sandy said, looking dubiously at the sandwich and then at Sawyer as she made another. "Look, what I want to talk to you about is… there's this person in the station who is kind of interested in you."

Sawyer nodded. "I'm flattered Lieutenant but I make it a principle not to date my superior officers. Even if they're not in my direct line of command."

"Not me!"

"Oh. My mistake," Sawyer said. Not sounding the least bit sorry. "I just assumed."

"No."

"Someone else? No," she said, holding up a hand and nearly sending a glob of peanut butter into Sandy's face. "Best to keep it vague right now."

"Right. Vague," Sandy said, plotting further revenge on Jo. "I can do vague. So, Sawyer, if they were a paramedic or a firefighter, not a lieutenant or higher, would you object to going out with someone who worked at the station?"

"Well, not while on duty."

"No, of course not."

"And no one who was married or in a relationship already."

"No, of course not."

"Or Mikey or Tony because they just broke up with their girls and that's just rebound and asking for trouble."

"Right."

"And not Hans or Franz. They're just scary in a social setting. Did you see them at the Christmas thing?"

"Yeah," Sandy said. Almost praying for an alarm.

"Doesn't leave many. You sure you didn't mean you? 'Cause, you know if it weren't for you being a lieutenant…"

"No!"

"You going to eat that?" Sawyer asked, gesturing at the sandwich.

"No, I don't think I am," Sandy said as the alarm klaxon went off.

"Guess I'm not either."

+++++

The apartment building was fully engulfed from the third to fifth floors by the time they arrived.

"Lopez, take a line through the north entrance. Where the hell is my second ambulance?"

"They were on a run. They're turning around for here as soon as they drop off at County."

"And the 33rd?"

"ETA five minutes," Tony said, dropping from the cab and fastening his helmet.

Chief Roberts looked around the crowd. Residential fires during the day meant fewer trapped people.

"Great. Tony, take the second and third line through the main entrance. We'll have to hold until the 33rd gets here before we get serious. The cops done their canvass yet?"

"They think everyone is out of three and up."

"Thank you for small mercies. Get out of here," Roberts said. He turned to Sawyer and Jo. "Just us until the cavalry gets here."

"Chief," came Lopez's voice, tinny over the small lapel speaker mike on Robert's coat. "I got a man injured by the forth floor stairwell. Need back board and neck brace."

"Shit. The 33rd hasn't arrived. I'll try to pull out… Sawyer, get your ass back here!"

Jo watched Sawyer's rapidly receding back in shock. Then she scooped up the drug box and began to run.

"Damnit! Lopez, Sawyer and Jo are on their way."

+++++

"What the hell am I supposed to do here?"

Jo and Sawyer remained wisely silent.

"Suspend your asses two weeks is what I'm supposed to do. Put a permanent in your file and tell you both if you pull a stunt like that again I'll fire you so fast that… Damn!"

"Lieutenant Yensen…"

"Don't you 'Lieutenant Yensen' me, Paramedic T. Sawyer!"

"Chris…"

"Don't 'Chris' me either. Damn!"

Sawyer returned to wise silence.

Finally Yensen sighed. "You're both off for the rest of the shift. Reflect. Relax. Resolve not to do stupid things like that again. Write out 'I will not abandon my rig to play fireman ever again' one hundred times."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.

Yensen sighed, finally falling into her chair. "You two okay?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Good. Get out."

Silently they stood and left the office, heading straight for the locker room.

"You feel like you were just called to the principal's office?" Sawyer asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Sawyer pulled on her coat, hesitating as she watched Jo aimlessly poke around in her locker.

"You bring the El in today?"

"Yeah."

Sawyer frowned. "Come on. I'll give you a lift."

"I'm fine."

"I know you're fine. I'm giving you a lift. C'mon."

The car ride was largely silent to Jo. Sawyer left the radio off and she watched the passing cityscape with idle curiosity.

"You okay?"

"Damn it, T. Sawyer I am okay. The only thing that is not okay is the fact that everyone has been asking me every three seconds if I'm okay. Which is driving me fucking batty so stop asking. If I weren't okay I'd say. I'd say, no, I'm not okay. But I am okay. I'm fine, spiffy, A-one, five by freaking five okay. Got it?"

"Yeah. You're okay."

"Damn straight."

Sawyer opened her mouth as if to say something but instead shook her head. She paused and Jo realized with a start that the car was not only motionless but it was parked at an unfamiliar apartment building.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Well, I asked you five or six times where you lived but, you being okay and all, didn't answer. So I came home."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah. And after you sat here, being okay and all, for ten minutes I decided to inquire into your mental state."

"Shit," Jo said, thumping her fist onto her leg. "Sorry about that."

"No problem. Seeing as you're okay and all, you want to come in until you're a bit more okay?"

"You have an accent."

Sawyer nodded. "It usually only shows when I'm not okay. Or teasing the hell out of someone."

"Which is it now?"

"Yes."

Jo regarded Sawyer for a few moments before nodding. "Right. I'll come up."

"No," said Sawyer, as they got out of the car.

"No what?"

"In. Not up," Sawyer said as she led the way to a patio door. She rapped on the glass.

"Room mate?"

"Sort of," Sawyer said as a small mongrel appeared at the door. It barked twice and then grabbed the piece of sawed off hockey stick that was acting as a burglar bar for the sliding door.

"Smart dog," Jo said as Sawyer slid the door open.

"He's a good dog. He's a great dog," Sawyer said, kneeling down and grabbing a double handful of ear and shaking his head. "You're a good dog, ainchya Digger?"

"Digger?"

Sawyer stood and motioned Jo inside. "Digger. Loves to dig. Last week he dug up the next over guy's potted plant."

"You two get into trouble about the potted plant?"

"Nah. Because it was a pot-potted plant, right Digger? He ain't gonna call the cops on us. You just make yourself at home. Sit. Can I getchya anything to drink?"

Jo looked around the apartment for a place to sit. "Juice is fine."

"Ah, no juice."

"Water is good."

"Water?" Sawyer asked. Jo could hear cupboards banging and muttering and then Sawyer was coming from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. "Water? Like, plants drink water. Fish swim in water. Water water?"

Jo smiled, taking the glass. "Water."

"Takes all kinds to make the world turn around. Water," Sawyer again said bemusedly as she sat on the couch.

Weighing her options Jo elected to sit beside her. Digger turned in a circle before flopping down in the space normally reserved for a coffee table, head resting on his front paws.

"Not big on furniture?"

Sawyer looked around as if seeing the apartment for the first time. "No, I guess I'm not. But I have all the major pieces."

Jo nodded in agreement although she wasn't sure that the two folding card tables qualified as either a dining table or computer desk.

"You don't have a TV."

"Nope. Don't see the sense with my shift."

"Yeah. I can see that," Jo said. With that conversation dead she searched for another, discarding sports, weather, politics and religion before cycling through them again. Beside her Sawyer seemed content to merely sit and drink the beer. Jo examined her now empty water glass, glancing sideways at Sawyer who was, with equal intensity, examining the empty beer bottle. Somehow Sawyer seemed to be getting larger, closer and, with a start, Jo realized it was because she was leaning. Leaning toward Sawyer.

"You don't want to do this," Sawyer said abruptly. Digger half popped up, looked at both before settling down again.

"What?"

"This."

"This what?"

Sawyer waved to encompass the universe. "This."

"You're not interested. I'm sorry. Obviously--"

"Whoa. I said you don't want to do this. I am not talking about me right now."

"But I do want this."

"No, you don't."

Jo stood. "I'm beginning to agree. Why don't I?"

"Because you'll never really know if it's me or the fact that you didn't die today."

Jo stared at her, silent and still, for several moments before pivoting on her heel sharply away and throwing her hands in the air.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, pacing away as far as the small living room allowed. "But you are interested," she said, turning back to face Sawyer.

"I don't think you want me to answer that."

"Of course I don't," Jo said sarcastically. "Why don't I?"

"Because you won't know if it's you or the fact that I didn't die today"

"Damn. How'd you get so smart?"

"Experience."

"At not dying or getting hit on by people who didn't die?"

"Yes. You play computer games?"

"Wha? No."

"Okay. How about pool? I never see you at the table at the station."

"Are you trying to change the subject?"

"I am trying. You should stop resisting now."

+++++

"So you went to a pool hall?"

"Pool dive would be closer," Jo said to Sandy at the diner over breakfast. "It looked like it hadn't been cleaned in about fifty years. Anyway, we played pool and then she took me home."

"She put the move on you?"

"The move?"

"You know, let me help you make the shot and drape herself on you."

Jo grinned. "Nah, the height thing makes that problematical. No flirting or moves or anything."

"You don't sound disappointed."

"I'm not. I should be but I'm not."

"You got it bad, Poliaznek."

"Yeah, I think I do."

+++++

The new automatic doors were nice, Jo thought. While they didn't have that material thunk to announce the arrival of the ambulance crew she had always been afraid that the jarring would knock something off the gurney. Like an IV bag or monitor.

Or, in this case, a leg.

"This the mad axeman?"

"Indeed it is, Dr. Weaver," Sawyer said. "Pulse is weak, blood pressure sucks. We've put two bags in him and are controlling the bleeding but it looks like he really nicked that artery thing."

"When did he lose consciousness?" Weaver asked, motioning a med student to hole the little flashlight while she checked the pupils.

Jo and Sawyer exchanged glances. "That would be immediately following my punching him in the jaw," Sawyer said.

The crowd around the gurney all stared at Sawyer.

"Okay, people. Type and match. Tox screen. Get psych consult recorded on his file and put him in soft restraints."

"Why?" asked one of the med students.

"Because Chicago paramedics, even Sawyer, aren't in the habit of punching out patients without cause. Sawyer, does all that blood on you belong to him?"

"No, ma'am."

"Jo, Abby, get her to Curtain Two. The rest of you are with me. We're going to stitch up the artery and then ship him upstairs where ortho will make sure that there's no permanent damage. The med student who annoys me the least for the next 20 minutes can accompany him as a field trip."

"She sounds just like my kindergarten teacher," Jo said, her voice bemused.

"Yeah. My brother says the same thing only it's about a drill sergeant in basic. Let's get Sawyer looked after."

"Abby Normal, I think you might want to get an x-ray," Sawyer said, leading the way to Curtain Two.

"Why?" Jo asked.

Sawyer held up her right hand. It was swollen, slightly misshapen and turning a bright red across the first set of knuckles. "He did not have a glass jaw. More like a steel reinforced concrete jaw."

"Jesus, T. Why didn't you say something."

"Didn't hurt until now."

"How bad?" Abby asked.

"Oh, pretty bad," Sawyer said. "I'm going to fall down now."

"She makes things complicated, doesn't she?" Abby said, somehow managing to grab Sawyer around the torso and keep her semi upright as Jo took her legs. Between them they got her onto the examination table.

"You don't know the half of it."

+++++

"You awake?"

"Yes, Dr. Weaver."

Weaver shoved three x-rays into the small light board. "Nothing major broken. You'll wear a cast for a couple of weeks. Your cuts were superficial and Abby stitched you up while you were unconscious."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Keep the cast and dressings dry. Light duty until it comes off."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Give it here," Weaver said, taking the injured hand and guiding it to the small table beside the examination table.

"You're doing the cast?"

"It's quiet and I could use a change of pace. Unless you want a med student to get some practical in?"

"No, ma'am. Thank you, Dr. Weaver."

"You're welcome. Why are you so polite?"

"You're fixing my hand and some nice doctor who looks like Dracula gave me a shot."

Weaver glanced at the file hanging on the end of the bed and snorted in amusement. "I take it back. You're off duty for two hours. No driving either."

"No, ma'am," Sawyer said solemnly. She watched intently as Weaver opened a cast kit and began applying the fibreglass strips.

"Will I play the piano when it's off?" Sawyer asked suddenly, a thread of apprehension colouring her tone.

"Of course," Weaver said. "You just broke two small bones. There should be no loss of… Damn."

"Fell for it."

"It's always the old jokes that catch you by surprise."

"What about the guitar?"

Weaver turned Sawyer's hand, looking at the pads of her fingers. "Like I said. No lose of mobility. Your hand will be as good as new."

"Oh." Sawyer said but the tension didn't ease. "Can you make it better?"

"What?"

"Make it better. Make it a good hand."

"Sawyer," Weaver said slowly. "Dr. Kovac gave you a shot for the pain."

"I know. It's just, you can't see the blood."

"No, Sawyer, Abby and Jo cleaned up the blood."

"But it's there. Still. You just can't see it."

"It's gone, Sawyer."

"If my hands were faster, smarter, they wouldn't die."

"Sawyer, you're not going to remember any of this conversation. You save lives."

"Not always."

Weaver sighed. "No, not always. You save who you can and you do your best for the rest. Why did you hit the guy?"

"He was bleeding too fast. I knew he nicked an artery."

"So you knocked him out so you could treat him?"

"No, I knocked him out because he went after Jo with the axe."

Weaver smiled involuntarily at the pride and satisfaction in Sawyer's tone.

"This is done. Why don't you take a nap until those meds wear off. I'll let Jo know."

"Okay. Dr. Weaver?"

"Yes, Sawyer?"

"Can you write in my file not to give me this shit again?"

"Sure."

+++++

Jo awoke suddenly, sitting up before realizing whatever it was that had awakened her wasn't the klaxon.

"Easy there," came a soft voice from the bunk beside her.

"You'll ruin your eyes, reading in the dark."

"I got my maglite. You okay?"

Jo looked over the sleeping bunkroom. In deference the guys slept on the north side and the women on the south, the middle ground of empty bunks a dividing line of pseudo privacy.

"No. Nightmares the last couple of nights."

Sawyer nodded. "Figured. I keep dreaming about the noise."

Jo smiled, falling back lightly onto the bunk and staring at the ceiling. "It's noisy."

"Takes you aback. Not like the crackle of a campfire. It roared. Never noticed standing outside."

"You don't hear it outside. Only inside." Jo turned and looked at Sawyer, barely visible in the dim light. "You were wrong."

"I was?"

"Yeah. What nearly happened in your apartment wasn't because I almost died. I'm not going to die in a fire."

"How do you know that?"

"Because there was a fire I was supposed to die in and didn't."

Sawyer was silent. "You wanna tell me more?"

"Not tonight. Not on duty in the dark and… sometime later."

"Okay."

Silence stretched and Jo returned to contemplating the unseen ceiling while Sawyer thumbed the edge of her book, the pages making a thrumming noise.

"Your hand okay? Nothing bad, right?"

Sawyer looked surprised. "No. Weaver said a cast for a bit and maybe a splint. Nothing lasting. Why?"

"Just that she looked worried when she came out."

"I dunno. We just talked about pain killers or something. Can't remember." Thrum, thrum. "Jo?"

"Yeah, T?"

"I am. Going to die in a fire."

Jo turned sharply. "How do you know that?" She raised herself up on her elbow, leaning out over the edge of the bunk toward Sawyer to see her more clearly.

"I just know," Sawyer said, staring at the pages whipping by under her thumb. "When I was a kid. There was this movie. Robert Redford and he was a pilot. A barnstormer in the Depression."

"Yeah, I remember it."

"Remember the scene when his friend crashed. And was pinned and Redford grabbed a stick and hit his friend 'till he killed him?"

"Yeah."

"Promise me you'll do that."

"Sawyer, you're not going into a fire again."

"Promise me."

"I wouldn't have to. Lt. Yensen would kill you first."

"Jo, I ain't foolin' around here. Promise me."

"Fine. If it looks like you're trapped and going to burn to death I'll kill you."

"Thanks."

"This is a fucking bizarre conversation. How do you want to go?"

"Morphine overdose?"

"Okay, but I have to get permission from an MD before administering."

"Well, they won't give it. Damn party poopers. Wait, Weaver might."

Jo managed to muffle the giggles with her pillow. "Sawyer?" she asked when she was in control again.

"Yeah?"

"How do you know I'll be there?"

"You're my partner. Where else would you be?"

+++++

"She's bored."

"What do you mean?"

"She's just leaning here against the wall. You'd think she was asleep."

"Why don't you go talk to her. Buy her a beer. Ask her to dance. Do something."

Jo nodded at Sandy, hesitated a bit more and then walked across the hall to where Sawyer was leaning against the wall by the back door. As usual the trucks had been moved out and the fire station taken over for the retirement celebration to allow the on-duty personnel to attend. And the just off duty shift to arrive as soon as they showered, changed and walked down the stairs. The party had been going full blast for the past few hours, interrupted only once for a brief yard fire.

Sawyer was wearing her 'other' uniform. Jeans and a dark shirt holding a bottle of beer, eyes half closed.

"Bored?" Jo asked as she leaned against the wall beside Sawyer.

"Heavens no."

"Thought you were sleeping."

"Nah. I was watching."

"Right."

"You don't believe me?"

"Of course I do," Jo said, clearly humouring Sawyer.

"You came in at 8:15 and your hair was still damp and so was the back of your T-shirt. You had an orange juice and talked to Sandy, probably about me. You danced with Hanz and Franz together and then each one separately. You danced with the Chief, a slow song and he was a perfect gentleman. You had another juice and talked to Sandy again, probably about me. And now here you are."

Jo stared at her.

"I said I was watching."

"You didn't say you were watching me."

"I always watch you," Sawyer said, voice low and intense. "Did you nearly die today?"

"What? No," Jo said, confused by the shift in conversation.

"Me neither. You wanna blow this party?" Sawyer asked, holding her hand out in invitation.

"Yeah."

+++++

"Where's Digger?"

Sawyer opened the front door of the apartment and turned on the lights.

"I found him a real home. A family. Yard. Kids. It was bad for him, being alone so much."

"You miss him?"

Sawyer shrugged, shutting the door and walking into the kitchen.

"Yeah, stupid question," Jo muttered to herself. "Sawyer?"

"Yeah, Jo? You want that water thing again or I could go to the store and get some juice. Or I…"

"I'm fine."

"Right."

Sawyer put the unopened beer back into the fridge, walking into the living room. She paused in the doorway, watching Jo as she slowly revolved in the middle of the room.

"Whatchya looking for?"

"You."

"I am right here."

"No. I mean I'm looking for you in the room. In the apartment."

"Oh. You find me yet?"

"No," Jo said, puzzlement clear in her tone.

Sawyer looked at her feet. "Tell you what. I'm going to the store to get some juice for you. You look around. Anywhere you want. See if you can find me while I'm gone. If you're here when I get back…"

"If?"

Sawyer cleared her throat, vision still focused on the floor. "If you're here when I get back maybe we could talk some."

"If?"

Sawyer looked up. "Maybe you'll find me and not like what you find."

Jo laughed. "I don't see that happening."

"I found it's best to prepare for life's little disappointments. I'll be at least fifteen minutes but less than twenty-five."

Jo smiled and nodded.

"Right," Sawyer said, opening the front door. "Just slam it hard if you leave."

+++++

Twenty minutes later Jo heard the key in the door. There was a pause, between the door opening and Sawyer's entrance. As if she was bracing herself before entering the dark apartment.

"Hey," Jo called out.

"You're here?" Sawyer said, sticking her head through the door.

"Yeah. Can I ask you a question?"

Sawyer looked around, finally locating Jo sitting on the floor, her legs drawn up and her arms resting on her knees. "Sure."

"Are you running to or from?"

Sawyer carefully shut the door and set the plastic grocery bag on the floor. "Yes," she said, coming to stand in front of Jo.

"I looked around. All of your clothes and personal stuff would fit in the duffel bag in your closet. There's no pictures or anything older than ten years and most are the last five. You have a guitar but it's in a traveling case. Your computer is a laptop. None of your dishes or cutlery match."

Sawyer crouched but kept her eyes averted.

"And," Jo said. "You have about ten thousand dollars in traveler's cheques in that duffel."

"Habit."

Jo reached out, catching Sawyer's hands by the fingertips. "Is this a habit you want to break?"

Sawyer nodded, focusing on the joined hands until the gentle tugging finally encouraged her to look up. "I'm used to traveling fast and light."

"Why?"

"Not tonight. Not off duty in the dark and… sometime later."

Jo smiled at hearing her words used against her. "Fair enough. Heart bearing to be held at a date to be determined later. Can you answer one question?"

"Maybe."

"What does the T stand for?"

"You just want to know for the pool."

"Pool?" Jo said, trying for the right blend of surprise and shock. "T. Sawyer, do you honestly think that you first name would be the subject of gambling pool, do you?"

"Ye-yup."

"Well, it is. But that's not why I want to know."

Sawyer cocked her head to the side, momentarily regarding Jo before rocking forward onto her knees and whispering a single word.

"You're joking."

"You can tell by the amusement in my face, right?"

"Jesus."

"You can't tell anyone," Sawyer cautioned.

"Yeah, right. Like they'd believe me."

"Your turn."

"Sawyer, I really don't have anything that approaches that."

"Everyone does. Some day you're going to be driving the rig and it'll hit ya. Man, that's worse than Sawyer's name. You tell me then."

"Okay. I don't see it happening but I'll keep it in mind."

"You want to stay tonight? The couch is really comfortable."

"I couldn't take your bed."

"No," Sawyer said, grinning, "I told you, the couch is really comfortable."

+++++

"And then?" Sandy asked, food forgotten on the plate in front of her.

"We talked."

"And then?"

"You don't want to know what we talked about?"

"No! And then?"

"I slept on the couch and she slept in her bed and she gave me a lift to my place the next morning."

"That's it?"

"You were expecting…" Jo asked. "What?"

"A little more, obviously. What did you talk about?"

"Oh, now we want conversation details."

"Well?"

"I have no idea," Jo said, grinning happily. "But we did it for four hours."

"Okay. Great. My God, you're pathetic," Sandy said, stirring some more ketchup into her homefries. "Listen, you get that memo in your mailbox at work?"

The tension shifted and Jo pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry. "What memo?"

"Suppression certification in two days. Morning of your first weekend day."

"So soon."

"Yeah. You'll be there."

It wasn't lost on Jo that it was a statement rather than a question. "Of course. I promised. The guys didn't say anything."

"It's with the 47th. I figured you wouldn't want to do it with people you knew."

"Just in case."

"I didn't say that."

"No. I said it. You thought it."

"Jo…"

"I'll be there."

+++++

It didn't look real. It looked, Sawyer decided, like a movie set. The corner of a house to be filmed in such a way to look like a real house. A real three story house. She squinted, looking through the steam of her coffee, using the hazy image to paint a yard and a trike and glass in the windows. To add sound and motion of a happy home.

She jumped when they turned on the fire.

"Okay, trainees, follow your lead man and you'll be fine. Team one, move out!"

Team one picked up the house, rushing toward the training tower. They paused, bracing as the water was turned on and one trainee went down when it bucked. From the engine the watching firefighters laughed, mainly in remembrance but also with the cockiness of the veteran watching the recruit.

The line of trainees disappeared into the doorway. From the windows Sawyer watched their progress as they beat back the flames and finally cleared the third floor. And then as they whooped and hollered their way down to be greeted by the waiting crowd.

Jo left the building, turning a sharp left and heading toward the back of the parked fire truck.

"Jo?" Sawyer asked when she got there. Jo was pealing off the gear, hanging it neatly on the equipment racks. Stripping down to her dark blue uniform.

"Jo?" Sandy asked, leaving the group to join them.

"I did it. Pass me, fail me, fuck me but I did it and I'm off duty so see you in two days."

"Jo, you passed. The training chief said you…"

"Shut up." The helmet hit the asphalt and Sawyer became aware of the sudden silence as the other group turned their attention. "Am I done here, Lt. Lopez?"

"Jo, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. You're a hell of a fire fighter, San, but leave the psych work to professionals," Jo said, turning on her heel and striding toward the parking lot.

Sawyer had to run to catch up.

"You have long legs."

Jo whirled around. "Where are you going?"

"With you."

"Why?"

"Where you go, I go."

"What?" Jo said, spinning around to face Sawyer.

"'Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go.'"

"You just quoted the Bible at me?" Jo said in shock, walking backwards as Sawyer continued to advance.

"Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

"What, get all Biblical on me?" Jo said, her motion finally stopped by her parked car. Sawyer took the two steps needed to close the distance, placing her hands on the car hood to either side of Jo.

"Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh."

Jo stared at her silently before dropping her head, finding it guided to Sawyer's shoulder.

"I wasn't feeling well and it was easier to call in a favour then actually go into work. And so I called Ted and he said he could cover for me."

Sawyer remained silent. Content to wait.

"Roof collapsed and took the next floor with it. He and two guys went down. And I couldn't go back to the station or go into a fire. So I transferred to paramedics and fire house."

"You think you should have died instead of Ted?"

"It was my shift. My line. My friends. If I'd been there Ted wouldn't have died. Hell, maybe I could have gotten them out," Jo said, head still buried in Sawyer's shoulder.

"Listen," Sawyer said, "I'm going to say something that I don't want you to mistake as pity or me feeling sorry for you? Okay?"

"Sure. Okay," Jo said. Just before she could feel the hands that hand been holding her arms move to her head, turning and guiding her slightly. Slowly enough so that Jo figured out what was about to happen a whole second before her lips touched Sawyer's.

"What was that for?" Jo asked as Sawyer drew back.

"I couldn't think of anything wise and wonderful to say. And I wanted to stay with the mouth idea."

"So you kissed me? Because I'm fragile and an easy lay or because you finally worked up the nerve?"

"Yes," Sawyer said. "And, what is more, I'm going to do it again now."

The second kiss was longer and only the catcalls from across the parking lot forced them apart.

"We should go somewhere that that they can't see us," Sawyer said.

"My place is closer."

"Actually, my car's back seat has tinted windows. Hey!" she said as Jo swatted her shoulder. "Let's go to your place. An apartment with real furniture sounds interesting."

+++++

"I see what you mean," Sawyer says a half hour later, standing in the middle of the living room and turning a slow circle. The colour of the apartment walls are barely visible, covered by a riot of framed posters, pictures and certificates. Ceramic and brass figures and sculptures cover almost every square centimeter of horizontal surface.

"You mean about seeing me?"

"Yeah. I don't think you could pack this up. Not in a million duffel bags."

"I never planned to. Never even occurred to me."

Sawyer drifted closer to the walls, reading certificates and examining posters closely. It was, Jo thought, an entirely Sawyer thing to do, to ignore the person and focus on the inanimate.

"Most people wait until I leave the room to read them."

"Yeah. Well, you know me."

"No, actually," Jo says. "I don't."

Sawyer turned, walking toward Jo until she was an arm's length away.

"Do you want to start at the beginning? Or do you want to start here and work backwards?"

"Right here," Jo said, closing the space between them. "Right now."

+++++

"And then!"

Jo made shushing noises. "What is your problem, San?"

"Having no relationship at the moment I'm getting my jollies with yours."

"You need to get out more."

Sandy laughed. "Yeah, so I been told. Things going to be weird with you two at work?"

Jo frowned and shook her head. "Don't think so. I think it'll be good."

"What do you mean?"

"I think," Jo said slowly, "she needs someone to watch."

"What do you mean."

"I don't know. Just. She needs someone to watch her."

+++++

The door was ajar, a fact that all paramedics approved of. Sawyer still hesitated on the jam, pushing the dark wooden door with her drug box while Jo waited semi patiently at the bottom of the steps.

"Chicago FD, someone called?"

"In here!"

Sawyer pushed the rest of the way in, Jo on her heels. Following the voice into the living room.

"Nurse Abby!" Sawyer said in shock, pausing momentarily before dropping to her knees beside Abby and the still form on the floor.

"What have we got?" Jo asked, brushing blond hair away from the patient's face and checking pupil response with her penlight. "Oh God," she said when she recognized the face.

"I think a spontaneous abortion. She's hemorrhaging and I can't control it."

"Fuck," Sawyer muttered. "How far?"

"About 25 weeks."

"Jo, we need…"

"Got it," Jo said, already running to the rig.

"I thought she and Dr. Weaver…" Sawyer asked.

"I rent the basement apartment. I just got home from class and she didn't answer when I yelled hi."

"Good thing. She's lost a shitload of blood."

"You have an awesome bedside manner, Sawyer."

"Yeah, so I been told."

Behind them they could hear Jo manhandling the gurney through the doorway.

"We'll get her to Mercy in about three minutes, Abby."

"County."

"What?"

"County. They have a better neo-natal."

Jo and Sawyer exchanged a glance, pausing momentarily before the gurney's straps and blankets securely.

"Abby, you know that…," Jo started.

"And they have a better trauma."

"Okay. Fine," Sawyer said. "You ride in back with me. You can hand me stuff but don't go doing anything."

"I understand. But let me talk to County."

+++++

The doors swung open and the cluster of awaiting medical personnel parted to encircle the gurney. There were a few gasps of recognition and Sawyer realized that only Dr. Kovac had been warned of their patient's identity.

"This is one of our own," Dr. Kovac said fiercely. "And her privacy will be respected until her family has been notified."

There were nods and then the sharp commands for blood and tests and monitors began. Jo nodded at the gurney, but shook her head at Sawyer, motioning her to follow Abby. With a last glance Sawyer dog trotted to the admit desk to catch up.

"Randi?"

"She's upstairs in a conference, Abby. I didn't tell anyone but Dr. Kovac."

"Thank you, Randi. Give her a few minutes lead time, okay?"

"I'll see you up," Sawyer said, following Abby to the elevators.

"You don't have to do that."

"You look like you're about to tip over so I better."

"Okay. Suit yourself."

"You want to clean up first?" Sawyer said, pushing the call button on the elevator.

"No," Abby said, looking at her hands and the blood that stained them and the jacket. "What if…?"

"Dr. Legaspi will be fine. She lost a lot of blood but she was stable when she got here. I know County has a bad rep…"

"Hey!"

"But not for trauma. She'll be okay, Abby Normal."

The elevator doors opened, passengers spilling out and instinctively parting to flow around the two figures. They entered, Abby pushing the button for the admin floor.

"But not the baby," Abby said.

Sawyer sighed. "No, ma'am. I don't think so."

"God, Sawyer, how do I tell her?"

"I dunno," Sawyer said, shrugging. "But tell her quick before she thinks the worse, okay? Want me to come with?"

"No, hold the elevator, would you?"

"Sure," Sawyer said, standing in the door way and allowing the door to bump into the small of her back rather than use the door open button.

The conference room was close to the elevator and Sawyer watched Abby as she knocked on the door. Watched as Weaver came out, taking Abby's hand to turn it over. Gripping it as Abby spoke and nearly stumbling as she turned toward the elevator. Stepping out of the way as Weaver blindly passed her, Abby in her wake.

"I'll catch the stairs," Sawyer said as Abby looked inquiringly.

"Thank you."

"Nada."

The stairs were empty and Sawyer was taking them three at a time by the time she reached the ground floor. Pushing the door open with far more force than was necessary she glared around the ER.

"Easy, T."

"Call us in a break."

"I did. We have fifteen minutes off and we'll be dispatched from here."

"I need to stay here a bit."

"I know."

"I need…" She shook her head in frustration. "I need…"

"I know," Jo said, pulling her into the lounge and past it into the shower area. She grabbed a towel, handing it to Sawyer.

"Jo?"

"I'm watching."

And, holding the towel to her face Sawyer screamed, barely feeling Jo holding her or her knees hitting the ceramic tile of the shower room.

+++++

"What's with her?"

Jo didn't need to look to know that Randi was watching Sawyer. Who had been sitting in chairs for the last half hour staring at a cup of coffee held between her knees.

"She takes some calls harder than others."

Randi nodded. "Some of the docs are like that. Stick their hands in a guys chest, push their guts back in, bones sticking out, all kinds of shit? No problem. Little kid comes in needing a few stitches and they're a basket case."

"Something like that."

"So you two are hanging around until when?"

Jo shrugged. "No idea. Knowing T it will either be when our shift is over or when we get word. Likely when we get word."

"Well, this looks like word," Randi said, pointing over Jo's shoulder.

"You waited," Abby said as she got closer.

"Yeah. How are things?"

"Kim will be fine. They're keeping her for a few days but it looks good. Nothing permanent."

"Good. They don't deserve any more grief," Randi said fiercely.

"You okay to get home?" Jo asked.

"Not going to bother. I'll just pass out in the on-call room," Abby said. She looked at chairs. "I'll tell Sawyer."

"So," Randi said as they watched Abby crouch down to speak to Sawyer. "She going to be okay?"

"Sawyer's like this superball. No matter how far it falls it bounces right back up."

"Yo Jo! Time to take the rig back and get some lunch."

"Comin', Sawyer."

The End

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