Title: How To Seduce A Firefighter

Author: BC

Rated: SLASH

Archive: Yes

Pairing: Hank/Mike

Content Warning: Relationship between two males

Summary: Two stubborn men have to come to grips with what they each want from life and open their hearts to the possibility of love.

HOW TO SEDUCE A FIREFIGHTER

By BC

Hank leans back in his office chair, his long lithe legs propped up on the corner of his desk. His hands locked behind his head and the report he is supposed to be reviewing lying idle in his lap. Once again, work is totally forgotten as he enjoys the view. The view: totally unobstructed by the squad. The view: completely unaware of a very enraptured audience. The view: wholly unaware of the thorough visual appraisal. The view: entirely unsuspecting of the fantasies being created. The view: Firefighter Specialist Mike Stoker.

Hank shifts in his chair, adjusting himself to a more comfortable position. His eyes are locked on the young engineer as he checks his air bottle. Hank watches as Mike's hands run deftly over the equipment. He imagines those hands gliding over his body instead. When Mike swings the heavy tank onto his back to adjust the straps, Hank imagines himself pressed tightly against the hard muscle and sinew of the strong firefighter. When Mike tests the airflow by placing the mask against his face and taking a deep breath, Hank imagines the younger man's erratic breathing when he realizes it is Hank snuggling behind him.

**Yeah, his breathing would be erratic, alright,** Hank's inner voice scolds. **He'd be in a panic to realize it WAS you snuggled up behind him.**

"Oh, just shut up."

"I didn't say anything Cap," Chet says as he returns the empty garbage can to its place by the other desk.

Hank turns to look at the bewildered firefighter. He hadn't even noticed Kelly's entrance into his office. "Don't you have work to do?"

Chet holds up the large garbage bag that holds several small full ones. "Just got the last one now, Cap." Chet studies his Captain's face. "Cap, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Hank grumbles as he swings his legs down off the desktop. "Now get out of here, ya twit."

Hank watches as Chet leaves the room. His gaze goes beyond the doorway and again settles on the young engineer. As Mike crouches down to check the air pressure on the Ward LaFrance's huge front tire, Hank's gaze travels to the tight seat of Mike's pants.

**Like YOU have a chance of ever getting into HIS pants,** his inner voice scolds again.

"Oh, shut the heck up," Hank mutters aloud as he turns his attention back to the report at hand. He fails to see Chet peeking around the doorframe.

Chet shakes his head sadly as he starts to walk away from the office door.

"What's up, Chet?" Mike asks from across the equipment bay.

Chet crosses to the handsome engineer. He looks over his shoulder to be sure Hank isn't watching. When he sees Hank reading at his desk, he lowers his voice conspiratorially. "I'm telling ya, Mike. The Cap's loosing it."

"What are you talking about Chet?" Mike looks into Hank's office to see him reading. "I don't see anything wrong."

"I'm telling ya, he's going nuts," Chet whispers. "I go in to get the trash and he looks pretty intense with whatever it is he's thinking about. I don't say a word to distract him, just clean out the cans. Then all of the sudden he tells me to shut up."

"So?"

"Then he asks me if I have work to do. I show him the garbage and ask if he's alright. He tells me he's fine, calls me a twit and tells me to get out of his office."

"So, that's not unusual Chet," Mike grins. "You are a twit."

Chet sneers at Mike. "Yeah, well then I come back out here and peek around the corner back into the office just to check on him. Again, he tells whoever to just shut the heck up. I'm telling ya Mike. He's losing it."

Mike glances back toward the office. "Naw, he just has a lot on his mind, Chet."

"Yeah, right," Chet looks back toward the office one more time before heading toward the locker room.

**********

Returning from the locker room after dinner, Mike settles into the lounge chair with his book. He's hoping to be able to totally immerse himself in his book and ignore the distraction that has muddled his mind all day. The distraction: always present, no matter where he goes. The distraction: wholly unaware of its' effect. The distraction: entirely unsuspecting of the fantasies its' causing. The distraction: Captain Hank Stanley.

Mike tries to find a comfortable position in the leather armchair. His book, virtually forgotten, lies in his lap. When Hank settles on the couch directly across from him, Mike tries to divert his eyes by picking up his book. He watches as the older man slouches comfortably on the couch, his long legs stretched out before him. Mike watches as his Captain leans his head back against the cool leather, exposing the long arch of his neck. Mike imagines running first his fingers and then his lips over the long expanse. When Hank sighs, Mike watches the rise and fall of the sturdy chest. When Hank swallows, Mike imagines caressing the bobbing Adam's Apple with his tongue.

**Yeah, he'd be swallowing alright.** Mike's inner voice scolds. **Swallowing his revulsion when he realizes it was you devouring his body.**

"Oh, bug off."

Chet changes directions and heads toward the sofa instead of the lounge chair. "Coffee, Cap?" Chet offers holding up the fresh pot of coffee and a couple of mugs.

Hank eagerly accepts the coffee and leans back on the sofa. When Henry lies down on the sofa with his head in Hank's lap, Hank begins to stroke the dog's exposed stomach.

Mike watches as Henry rolls to his back to expose his stomach to Hank's touch. As Hank's hand travels down over the dog's torso, Mike cannot tear his eyes away from the other man's hands.

**Jealous?** His inner voice scoffs. **You're jealous of a damned dog.**

"Bug off, dammit," Mike mutters softly as he buries his head in his book.

Chet looks at the young engineer. "Great, everyone around here is going nuts," he says to himself. "I'm the only sane person around here."

**********

Several days later…

Mike chuckles. "Chet, you just said your name is Chat. This is E." Mike patterns his hand in the American Sign Language symbol for the letter E.

"This is a lot harder than it looks," Marco grumbles. "Just whose idea was this anyway?"

"Mine," Hank says. "Got a problem with it?"

"No problem, Cap," Marco says, trying yet again to conform his fingers in the right order to correctly sign his name. A softly muttered Spanish curse floats across the table.

"You know how much the kids enjoy our visits to their schools," Hank says. "This is a school for the hearing and visually impaired. It would be nice if we could at least say hello without an interpreter." He tries again to twist his fingers into the correct combinations. "Dammit."

Mike circles the kitchen table. "Here, Cap," he offers. "Let me show you."

Hank turns his chair away from the table as Mike kneels next to his chair. He tries to make the correct movements but his fingers don't want to cooperate.

Mike kneels next to Hank's chair. The fresh scent of Hank's cologne combined with the scent he's simply come to call Hank teases his nostrils as he reaches forward for the man's hands. At the first touch of skin to skin, he feels as if an electric current passes between them. He takes a deep breath to refocus on the task at hand, only drawing more of the intoxicating scent into his lungs.

Hank looks at the man kneeling so close to him. He can see the individual lashes framing the bright blue eyes. As Mike takes his hands, he feels the spark of energy between them and watches the younger man's eyes dilate. As the long, firm fingers of Mike's warm hands curve around his, Hank swallows hard, trying to remain focused on the task at hand. He realizes that Mike has completed the cycle once and he hasn't paid the attention to anything but the feel of skin against skin.

"I think you'd better do that again." Hank is surprised by the raw sound to his voice.

Now it's Mike's turn to be confused. **Do what again** his befuddled brain screams.

"I thought sign language was supposed to be simple," Johnny grumbles. "I think I'd better change my name and fast."

"It's not that bad, Junior," Roy says as he sips his coffee.

"Yeah, you've only got 3 letters in your name," Johnny grumbles.

"I think I got it," Chet suddenly shouts.

"Well, if Chet can do it…" Johnny looks again at the symbols on the sheet in from of him.

Hank looks at the man kneeling next to him. He winks at Mike in amusement.

Catching the wink sent his way, Mike feels as if his heart shudders to a halt in his chest. For several long moments, Mike waits for his heart to resume beating. He feels a delicious warmth flood through him.

Hank watches the color suffuse Mike's face as he winks at him. When his fingers are tightly grasped in Mike's warmth, his breath catches in this throat. The snappy comeback he was about to make to Johnny dies in his throat. He feels as if the words have formed a rock in his throat and he swallows hard.

Mike watches the sensuous up and down movement of Hank's Adam's Apple as he swallows. His fantasies of the last shift return in force. He forces himself to look down. His eyes lock on the two sets of hands, fingers intertwined. His darker skin contrasts with the lighter skin of Hank's hands. The callused skin rubs enticingly against his own work roughened skin. Despite the hardness, Mike can sense gentleness in the hands wrapped around his.

"I did it," Johnny all but shouts.

At the sudden noise, the spell is broken and Mike's head begins to clear. He looks up at his Captain. "Well, if Chet and Johnny can do it…"

Hank tries to hide his frustration at the intrusion of the rest of his crew. "Yeah, I'd better get this down," he sighs. "Show me that one more time."

At the school, Hank stands off to one side, watching as Mike kneels patiently next to the engine. Dressed in full turnout gear, including his airtank, he allows the visually impaired students to inspect him with their hands. As the children absorb the feel and smell of the gear, Hank's mind begins to wander as it has so many times over the recent weeks.

**No, you CANNOT run your hands over him.**

//That's not what I'm thinking.//

**Yeah, right. I know you remember. I AM you.**

As the bell on Mike's airtank begins to ring, signaling he is almost out of air, Hank moves forward toward Mike. "Okay kids," he says. "Mike's almost out of air. Let's give him a break."

The kids all turn to look at Hank. "Right Captain Heck," they giggle in unison.

Mike pushes himself to his feet and pushes his helmet back off his head. He pulls his facemask down. He cannot hide his amusement.

"They aren't going to let me live that down, are they?" Hank answers.

"Not in this lifetime," Mike admits as he starts to remove the 40-pound tank. "But hey, anyone can confuse an A and an E. It's a pretty common mistake among people just learning to sign."

Hank moves behind Mike to help remove the heavy tank. "How long have you been signing?"

"My grandmother was deaf," Mike explains as he thankfully slips the tank from his shoulders. "I grew up learning both to speak and sign."

Hank moves to the back of the squad to get a fresh air tank. He returns it to Mike and they exchange empty for full. Mike inspects the connections and checks the airflow before stowing the now ready tank. He steps back and looks at his engine as the teachers round up the students.

"Looks like the lady is gonna need a good wash and polish when we get back to the barn," Hank observes. "She's covered in fingerprints."

Mike lovingly pats the door. "Yep, but it was worth it. The kids loved it. They had a blast."

"I think you enjoyed it almost as much as they did," Hank observes.

"And you didn't have fun, Captain Heck?"

Hank shakes his finger at the laughing Engineer. "You'll pay for that, Michael."

"After lunch, okay," Mike says. "I'm starving."

After accepting the children's invitation to lunch at the school, the Engine returns to the station while Roy and Johnny take the squad to Rampart for supplies. Mike parks the engine behind the station and collects the cleaning supplies. Within minutes, he, Marco, and Chet have a good start on washing the enormous rig. As soon as they are done washing, they each begin to polish the shiny red engine. It takes over an hour but soon the lady is sparking from front grill to tail board. Mike pulls the engine forward into the equipment bay. As he climbs down from the driver's seat, he takes a rag to remove his fingerprints from the door handle.

"Beautiful."

Mike turns around to face his captain. "Sure is." **The engine's not the only good looking thing around here**

Hank shakes his head to clear it. **Don't go there** "The kids sure got a kick out of her," he says. "And I have to admit I get a bit of thrill myself every time I see her."

"I think she has the same effect on all us, Cap," Mike admits as he runs his polishing cloth over the gleaming surface.

"I think you know this engine better than any man in the department, including Charlie," Hank chuckles.

"I don't know what it is about her but there's something…," Mike's quiet voice drops as he looks over the fire engine. "Maybe it's just that we got to take her on her first run but…"

"You are a lucky man," Hank admits. "Most engineers can go their entire careers without getting a new rig."

Mike settles onto the sideboard. "Do you miss it? Being an engineer?"

Hank runs his hands skillfully over the dials and gauges on the monitoring panel. "Some days but I love what I'm doing now too. Most days."

"What do you miss most?" Mike asks.

Hank sighs wistfully. "I guess it would have to be the feel of her under my hands as I steer her down the streets, ya know. All that power." He flexes his fingers.

Mike flexes his fingers as well. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Can't beat it. And this baby is so responsive. Not as cranky on the shifts as the Crown was either."

"She rides great." Hank opens the driver's side door.

"You haven't driven her yet?" Mike asks.

Hank looks down at the Engineer. "Didn't think you'd let me."

Mike laughs. "Well, maybe just maybe, we can work something out."

Hank's eyes light up in anticipation. He runs his hands over the large black steering wheel.

Mike feels his breath catch in his throat at the excitement mirrored in Hank's eyes. He silently promises himself that Hank will drive the engine at least once this shift, if he has anything to say about it.

"So what's the best part of being Cap, Cap?"

"Not drawing latrine duty," Hank chuckles.

"Well, with Kelly and the Phantom around here, most of us are spared that, thankfully."

"Sure makes doing the daily assignments easy," Hank admits with a laugh. "Wish the rest of it was that easy."

"And the hardest part?" Mike's voice is very quiet but his eyes betray his inner concern.

Hank sighs. "Sending you into a dangerous situation." His voice is so low, Mike has to strain to hear.

Mike is about to reply when the klaxons sound.

Station 51, car over cliff. Henderson Highway 2 miles north of Brush Creek. Henderson Highway 2 miles north of Brush Creek. Time out 15:24

Mike crosses to the call box and acknowledges his response as Chet and Marco rush from the day room. Mike crosses back toward the engine. He sees the hopeful look on Hank's face and he nods as he crosses in front of the engine.

Hank starts the engine, turns on the lights and sirens and pulls the massive rig out of the station. His ear to ear grin earns him a laugh from Mike, sitting in the Captain's seat.

As the engine makes its way up the winding road to the accident scene, Hank looks at Mike. "You take command on the scene," he tells the engineer.

Mike nods, running scenarios through his mind. As Hank pulls the engine around the final bend, they see a car with two wheels in the ditch and the driver leaning on the back of the car. Mike scans the guardrail to his left to see that it remains wholly intact. He jumps down from the rig and approaches the man.

"Did you call in a car over the cliff?" Mike asks as he approaches the man.

"What does this look like?" the man snarls at Mike.

"Is anyone hurt?" Mike asks.

"Nope, car's just stuck," the man grunts. "Can't get the damned thing back on the road."

Mike bends down to look at the undercarriage of the car. "Gas tank's intact. No leaks."

"So you gonna get me the hell out of here or what?" the man asks.

"Have you called a tow truck?" Mike asks.

"Of course, I'm no damned fool," the man says. "Told me it would take at least 2 hours to get someone up here."

"Well, we can't pull you out sir," Mike says. "You'll have to wait for the tow truck."

"But I don't want to wait 2 fucking hours," the man shouts. "Get my car the hell out of here now."

Mike looks at the man. "Sir, if we were to try to pull your car out, we'd probably total it. We're just not equipped to do it."

"What the hell good are you anyway?" the man complains, spitting into the dirt at the side of the road.

"Which tow company did you call?" Mike asks.

"Don't know the name. What the fuck does it matter anyway," he shouts. "I'm not waiting no frigging two hours to get the hell out of here."

"I'll call dispatch for you to request a tow truck," Mike offers. "That's the best I can do or you can wait until the company you called arrives. It's your choice sir."

"Just get me the hell out of here."

Mike returns to the engine and calls dispatch to request a tow and to cancel the Squad. He returns to the car to give the man the information. As Mike walks back toward the engine, the man flips him off behind his back.

Hank leans against the side of the rig. He has an ear to ear grin.

"Flipped me off, did he?" Mike chuckles.

"Yep," Hank says. "Welcome to the joy's of command."

"Gee, thanks," he says. "So, how'd she feel?"

"Pretty damn good," Hank admits. "And you didn't do so bad yourself with him."

"I'm glad it wasn't anything serious," Mike admits. "A little less obnoxious would have been nice but hey, can't have it all. So, you want to take us back home?"

Hank shakes his head. "Better not," he sighs wistfully. "I could get used to this real easy."

"I know what you mean," Mike says as he starts to walk toward the driver's door.

Mike moves up the road and turns the engine around. As he is looking for a wide spot to turn around, a van goes speeding past them, nearly side swiping the large engine. "Idiot drivers."

"That's one thing I don't miss," Hank admits as he glances behind them at the van disappearing around a curve.

"He'll probably wind up over a cliff the way he's driving," Mike says as he carefully maneuvers the engine into a wide spot to turn around.

A few minutes later they are descending the steep grade of the hill as Mike notices a vibration. "Did you feel that, Cap?" he asks.

"Yeah," Hank says as he looks around. Not seeing anything unusual, he shrugs his shoulders.

"Earthquake?" Mike asks. "Tremor?"

Hank shakes his head. "Birds are quiet. And nothings coming from LA."

"Tire going down?" Mike tries to sort out the possible reasons for the vibration he felt. He scans the road ahead for a safe place to pull off. The entire left side of the road is a jutting hillside, with little or no shoulder. To the right, a sheer drop off. As he steers the engine around a curve, he feels the vibration again only stronger this time. Spotting a wide spot to his right, he carefully pulls the engine off the road.

With the narrowness of the shoulder, half the engine still sticks out in the traffic lane. Hank looks out his door. "Can't get out over here," he says. "Be careful out there."

Mike nods. "You bet. Be right back." Checking for traffic, he jumps down from the cab. He inspects the left front tire for any abnormalities. Finding none, he crosses in front of the engine. As he makes it to the halfway point, he feels the vibration again beneath his feet. This time it is accompanied by a loud roar behind him. He turns to look over his shoulder and his eyes widen at the sight.

Hank screams Mike's name as he watches the entire side of the hill seeming turn to slush and rain down on the unprotected firefighter. He watches helplessly as Mike is swept over the side of the cliff by the force of mud and water. Reacting on pure instinct, Hank scurries across the cab and into the driver's seat. He shifts into reverse and backs the engine away from the rapid disintegrating roadway. Once he is certain he has the engine far enough away from imminent danger, he reaches for the radio.

"LA, Engine 51. We have a major landslide on Henderson Highway, approximately 3 miles north of Brush Creek. Roadway is completely blocked. I have one firefighter swept over the edge. Request additional Engine Company and squad. Approach from the north."

Without waiting to hear dispatch's response, Hank jumps from the cab. He sees Chet and Marco already assembling the climbing and rescue gear. He grabs a safety belt and secures it around his waist as Chet begins to secure the lines to the front of the rig. "Chet, you get in the cab, if there's any sign that this road is getting unstable, pull the rig back some more. Don't worry about us. Just get her back. We can't risk the rig coming down the hill on top of us. Marco, you handle my line. I'm going down after Mike."

"Cap…"

"Just do it," Hank says as he reaches for his Handie-Talkie. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Stoker can you hear me?" When his second and third calls are met by silence, Hank takes the radio microphone from Chet who is in the cab. "Stoker, if you can hear me, I'm coming down. Hang on."

"Cap, that debris flow…" Chet's voice cracks as he points to the debris flow rapidly making its way down the embankment and spreading throughout the shallow valley below.

"Call it in Chet," Hank orders. "Tell LA to evacuate everyone south of the flow. I'm going after Mike." He secures his line and gingerly makes his way over to the side of the cliff. He scans the area but due to the overgrowth of brush and the gushing mud, he has very limited visibility.

Hank lowers himself over the side. With the slick mud, he is unable to maintain his footing and relies on his safety gear to slow his progress down the hillside. As he goes, he scans the area around him, looking for any sign of the downed engineer. He repeatedly yells Mike's name.

Hank feels a coldness begin to invade his body. "Mike!" A shudder runs through him again. **I am not giving up on him. I'm not. He's down here somewhere. I've got to find him.**

As the earth beneath is feet gives way, Hank finds himself sliding downward. Only the rope saves him from going all the way to the bottom of the ravine. When he finally stops, he finds himself hanging over an outcropping of rock. He pauses a moment to catch his breath. "MIKE!"

"You don't have yell, I'm right…here."

Hank looks directly ahead to see nothing but an apparent wall of mud directly in front of him. Then he notices two wide blue eyes blinking at him, he smiles. "Michael?"

"Yeah," Stoker says, almost giddy with relief. "Nice of you to drop in."

"Are you hurt?" Hank tries to assess the other man for injuries but the mud continuing to slake over them makes a thorough assessment impossible.

Mike summons enough energy to shake his head. "Nope, just wet and dirty," he says. "And my arms are getting tired of holding onto this root. I don't know how much longer it's gonna take my weight."

Hank nods as he reaches for the extra safety belt. "I've got just the thing," he says as he lifts the mud-covered belt. "Can you wrap your legs around my waist until I can get you secured?"

Mike struggles against the heavy weight of the mud. "Can't do it," he pants. "Mud's pulling me down."

Hank takes advantage of the slack in his rope and pins Mike to the hillside with his body. He maneuvers the belt around the other man's waist, finally securing them together. Hank looks at the man so close to him. The pent up worry and concern threatens to overwhelm him. "Are you sure you're okay?" His voice breaks as he speaks.

Knowing that he is securely tied to Hank, Mike releases his hold on the tree root protruding from the side of the cliff. His arms fall to Hank's broad shoulders. His arms are trembling from the prolonged strain of supporting his body but he wills them to move, albeit jerkily. He lifts a shaky hand to wipe some of the mud off of Hank's face. "I'm fine," he says softly. "Nothing that a hot shower and a long massage won't cure."

"I'll see what I can arrange," Hank promises, instinctively leaning in closer to Mike's caress. Despite the cold mud continuously washing over them, Hank feels a warmth start deep in his core. His eyes lock with Mike's.

Mike watches as first fear then relief mirror themselves in Hank's eyes. The relief gives way to warmth and finally longing.

**Longing, yeah right** Mike's inner voice scolds. **He just wants to get off this damn hillside. It has nothing to do with you. He's just relieved he won't have to break in a new engineer.**

Mike lets his hand fall heavily and he breaks eye contact with Hank.

"You okay?" Hank asks, feeling suddenly bereft without Mike's hand on his cheek.

"Just tired," Mike admits. "Let's get out of here."

Hank fumbles with the Handie-Talkie. "HT51 to Engine 51. I've got him. Get us out of here, Chet."

Mike looks up at Hank. "Chet? Chet! You let Chet drive MY rig?"

Hank laughs at the sudden outburst. "Would you rather I'd sent Chet down after you?" Hank asks as he feels the slack tighten in the rope. He puts his arms protectively around Mike.

Mike puts his head against Hank's shoulder as he ducks to avoid the outcropping of rock as they slowly begin to move upward. He revels in the feeling of warmth and security. "No, but if he's hurt my engine…"

Hank chuckles as he wraps his arms tighter around Mike. "It's gonna be okay," he promises as he gives in to the temptation to run his hands over the back of Mike's head and down his long, lean back. "I promise."

**You'd better enjoy having him this close now because once this is over, you'll probably never have another chance** Hank's inner voice scolds. **This is as close as you are gonna get in this lifetime.**

Mike and Hank continue to cling to each other as they begin the slow ascent back up the hillside. Each man is lost in his own thoughts, his own desires, his own feelings, completely unaware of the other's similar longings and hungers.

As they finally crest the hillside, they feel themselves being dragged along the crumbling pavement, away from the edge and the relentless debris flow. When they finally stop sliding, both men are breathing heavily.

Mike lies sprawled across Hank's chest, his head resting in the curve of his neck. Their mud-covered legs are tangled together, their arms wrapped around each other. Both men are breathing heavily and are covered from head to toe in thick mud. To the men approaching them, they appear as one muddy blob on the pavement.

Knowing they have a vigilant audience, Mike tries to slide off of Hank but their safety belts keep them tightly linked together. As he slides to one side, Hank rolls over on his side. Both man's hands are so caked with mud, they cannot undo the safety harness.

Roy leans next to the panting men. "Marco, bring the reel line over," he orders. "Let's wash away some of this mud so we can get them untangled."

As the cool water washes over them, Mike begins to shiver. He lies on his side, trying to catch his breath. He tries to move, to reach for Hank, but he does not have the strength to lift his heavy, mud caked limbs.

"Take it easy," Roy cautions, unable to recognize his coworker through the mud. "Let us get you unhooked. Do you hurt anywhere?"

Mike tries to talk but only succeeds in taking in a mouthful of mud. He manages a weak shake of his head.

Johnny starts to assess the other person, he too unsure of who he is treating. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Hank just shakes his head as he too starts to shiver. "Ta…take care of Stoker." His teeth begin to chatter as he tries to lift himself to check his crew mate.

"We've got it under control, Cap," Johnny assures him. "Just relax."

As Marco washes away some of the mud, Roy is able to unhook the safety belts. "Let's get them over to the engine." With the help of the just arrived crew of 86's, they move Mike and Hank away from the crumbling edge to safety by the engine.

Roy looks at both patients, now shivering uncontrollably. "We've got to get this mud off. They are getting hypothermic. Mike, think you can stand up with some help?"

Mike nods his head and tries to get up on his own. With Roy and Chet helping, they get him to his feet as Marco begins to rinse the caked mud from his body. He leans heavily on his friends, too weak to support himself. When they finally have his face clear of mud, he tries again to speak. "Cap?"

"He's fine," Roy assures him. "Johnny's with him. They are getting him cleaned up too. Couldn't tell who was who there for a few minutes."

"Yeah, you both looked like something out of one of my horror movies," Chet says as he supports Mike by the arms. "The Mud Blobs that Ate LA."

"Cap's okay?" Mike's teeth are chattering so hard he can barely speak.

Roy knows Mike will not relax until he sees for himself that Hank is okay. "Turn around," he tells his friend, guiding him carefully so that he can see Hank getting the same wash down. "See, he's fine."

Seeing Hank on his feet relieves some of the worry for Mike. Knowing that Hank, for now, is safe allows him to give himself over to the care of his friends. It takes almost twenty minutes to remove the majority of the cement like mud. By the time they are finished, Mike and Hank are shivering uncontrollably and have a bluish tint around their lips. Roy relays his concerns regarding hypothermia to Rampart via the biophone. He comes back to Mike who is getting the last of the mud removed. "Mike, we are gonna have to strip you," he tells his friend. "We've got to get you out of those wet clothes before you loose any more body heat."

Mike nods and tries to lift his hands to begin undressing. The task requires far too much energy.

"We'll take care of it," Roy says. "Just relax."

"Cold, tired," Mike pants. "Cap?"

"About the same," Roy answers. "You are both hypothermic."

Mike knows just how dangerous a low body temperature can be. He tries to check on Hank.

Hank blindly follows Johnny's instructions as the mud is removed from his body. He keeps trying to turn toward Mike. Finally, Johnny gives up and turns Hank so he can see Mike. "Cap, Mike's fine," Johnny repeatedly reassures his Captain. "Roy's taking good care of him. We've got to get this mud off of you and get you dry. You're loosing too much body heat."

"Mike," Cap asks yet again.

"He's fine Cap," Johnny says. "He's fine."

"Take care of him first," Cap insists.

"Roy's got it covered Cap," Johnny says. "Let's get you out of this wet uniform."

Hank refuses to take his eyes off of Mike as Roy removes the soggy and blackened uniform of the engineer. When Mike suddenly slumps, Hank nearly yanks himself out of Johnny's hands.

Johnny grabs Hank. "Cap, he's fine, just tired," Johnny explains. "I'm surprised you both are still on your feet."

Johnny and Roy exchange knowing glances.

***********

Dixie looks down at her patient. "Hank Stanley, if you don't lie still on that gurney, I'm going to strap you down."

"But I just want to know…"

"How Mike Stoker is doing," Dixie says as she checks his blood pressure. "I know. I know. You've been saying that ever since you got here. He's next door with Dr. Early. As soon as we know anything, I'll let you know."

"How are his vitals, Dix?" Dr. Kelly Brackett asks as he comes back into the treatment room.

"Pulse and BP unchanged," Dixie answers. "Temp is up to 97.9."

"Hank, I'm gonna keep you and Mike Stoker overnight for observation. We still need to bring your body temps up a bit more and I want to be sure you don't have any complications. You both ingested quite a bit of that mud." Brackett makes a note on Hank's chart.

"Mike's okay?" Hank asks.

"He's gonna be fine," Kel assures his patient. "Just a few bumps and bruises. He'll have a few sore muscles in the morning too but he's stable. We are still working on bringing his temp up."

"He's conscious?"

Kel nods. "And asking just as many questions as you are."

"Think we should put them in the same room?" Dixie teases.

"They'll make the nurses crazy if we don't," Kel chuckles. "Make the arrangement, Dix."

Joe Early finishes examining Mike. "Mike, we're gonna admit you overnight for observation. I'm concerned about your lungs. You dragged in a lot of mud and water. I want to make sure you don't develop any respiratory complications. Also, we're gonna continue to bring your body temp up slowly. You're still about a degree short of normal."

"How's Captain Stanley?" Mike asks.

"Hank's fine," the doctor assures him. "You'll be able to see him shortly. I'm sure Dixie will make arrangements for you two to share a room."

Mike bolts up on the gurney. "You're admitting him," he croaks out as he tries to get off the bed. "What's wrong?"

Joe pushes his patient back on the bed. "Nothing. We're keeping you both for observation. Just overnight."

"He's okay?"

"He's fine," Joe assures him. "He's fine. You'll be able to see him soon enough."

Hank waits rather impatiently until the doctors and nurses leave the room he is sharing with Mike. He turns on his side to face the other bed. "Are you okay, Mike?"

Mike rolls to his side under the heavy blankets covering him. "I'm fine, you?"

"Starting to warm up," Hank admits as he pulls the blankets higher.

"Thanks for getting me out of there, Cap," Mike's tone is somber. He knows that if Hank had been delayed at all in finding him, they would not be having this conversation.

"You scared the shit out of me, Michael," Hank admits as he thinks of how different the outcome could have been.

"I was pretty scared myself," Mike admits. "Not exactly what I had planned."

"And what were my exact last words to you?" Hank asks. **Thank the heavens, those weren't my last words ever to you**

**I thought those were gonna be your last words to me forever.** "Be careful out there."

Hank looks across the room. "I'm glad you're okay, Mike."

"Mike, not Michael? Does this mean I'm out of the dog house?"

"I should put you on KP for a week," Hank admonishes.

"You just want me to fix my spaghetti," Mike says with a grin.

"Do I look like I have an ulterior motive?" Hank asks, feigning hurt.

"Yeah, I know, you just saved my hide because you know I'm the best cook on A-shift."

"I knew there was a reason," Hank says. **And if I told you the real reason, you'd hate me for life**

"Cap?"

"You can call me Hank, you know."

"Hank, thanks for saving my life."

"My pleasure, Michael. My pleasure."

Trying to keep a watch on the other man across the room, both Hank and Mike finally drift off to sleep.

Several hours later, the nurse leaves the room after once again checking their vital signs. "You know this doesn't make much sense to me," Mike admits. "They tell us to try to get some sleep but someone is in here every thirty minutes poking and prodding us."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Hank sighs as he rolls over. "And I swear they've taken at least a quart of blood out of me so far."

"We'd get more rest at the station," Mike chuckles as he tries to find a comfortable position in the hard bed.

Hank hears the catch in Mike's voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just sore," Mike answers, gingerly trying to find a position that doesn't hurt. "My entire body is one great big bruise I'm sure."

Hank closes his eyes as an image of Mike's body comes to him. He now shifts to find a more comfortable position but for an entirely different reason. He is distracted by a knock at the door.

"Can we come in?" Roy asks, sticking his head around the door.

Hank and Mike both try to sit up straighter in bed, both wincing at the movement. "Come in."

Johnny follows Roy into the room. "We can only stay a few minutes," Roy explains, "but we brought you a few things."

"Clothes for one," Johnny says as he places two hangers of clothes in the small closet. "Didn't think you'd want to be discharged in the morning naked."

"I guess the uniforms are a total loss," Hank guesses.

"Pretty much so," Roy answers. "We also grabbed your shaving kits out of your lockers. Thought you'd at least like a toothbrush or whatever."

Mike rubs his bruised jaw. "I don't think I'll be shaving for a while."

Roy puts the shaving kits on the bedside tables. "We saw Doc Brackett downstairs. Said you'd probably be going home tomorrow."

"Yeah," Hank says. "The are just keeping an eye on us basically."

"Cap, are you sure you don't want me to call your wife?" Roy offers. "It's been all over the news. They've kept your names out of it but I'm sure she'd be worried if she saw it on the news."

"No, don't bother Roy," Hank says. "She's out of town anyway. She won't hear about it."

"Are you sure Cap?" Johnny asks. "It's no trouble."

"Just forget about it," Hank all but snaps.

"Sure whatever you want," Roy says, taking a step backward.

"So who did you get to replace us?" Hank asks.

"Hookraider came in to cover for you, Cap," Johnny answers. "And Tom Harris is covering for Mike."

"How's my engine?" Mike asks. "Kelly didn't do too much damage, did he?"

"Your engine is fine," Johnny assures the engineer. "But I think Kelly is seriously considering taking another shot at the Engineer's Exam. I'd be watching your back if I were you Stoker. He's gunning for your seat, man."

"You guys going to be okay tonight with Hookraider?" Hank asks.

"We'll be fine, Cap," Roy says. "Just relax and enjoy the down time."

"You know there are easier ways to get around Chet's cooking, you know," Johnny says, looking at Mike.

"I'm not sure hospital food is going to be a step up," Mike says shrugging his shoulders. As his muscles protest the movement, he sighs carefully. "Hey Gage, while you guys are here, can you give me a hand over to the head? There are just some things you don't want a nurse helping with, ya know."

Both Mike and Hank take advantage of the paramedics' assistance to get to the bathroom. They are both sitting on the side of their respective beds when the HT calls the Squad for a run. After quick good-byes, Mike and Hank find themselves alone again.

Mike watches his Captain closely. "So where are Trudy and Bria? Isn't Bria in school this time of year?"

At the mention of his wife and daughter, Hank stiffens. "They are in Maine. Trudy has…uh.. friends there."

"Is everything okay?" Mike almost misses the slight shrug of Hank's shoulders. He can sense the tenseness in his friend's body. "When is she coming home?"

"She's not."

Hank's words were so softly spoken Mike isn't sure if he heard correctly. "She's not?"

Hank suddenly forces his body to sit up straight. "She's not coming home Mike. Ever. We're divorced."

It's Mike's turn to be startled. "Divorced? But when… how?"

Hank stares across the room at Mike. **Yeah, tell him the whole sordid story. That will certainly boost his confidence in his Captain. That will make him feel comfortable about sharing a room with you, working with you**

Mike sees the sudden sadness in Hank's eyes. Even though he's still weak, Mike pulls himself to his feet. Leaning heavily on the rolling IV pole, he limps over to Hank's bed. He sits on the side of the bed next to his friend. "You want to tell me about it?"

Hank looks at Mike. "There's not all that much to tell. We're divorced. She moved to Maine. End of story."

Mike gives Hank a knowing look.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook that easily, huh?" Hank asks.

"Would you let me off the hook that easily?"

"You're not married."

Again, the look.

"Okay, okay." Hank sighs. "Boy, keep that look. You are gonna need it when you are Captain. You can whip your crew into shape with just that look."

"You're stalling."

"Alright, there's not all that much to tell," Hank sighs. "We've been separated about a year and divorced for about 6 months. I was the one who wanted out. She took the first flight she could get to Maine. Just packed her bags and left. Hasn't looked back since."

"And Bria?" Mike asks, remembering Hank's energetic pre-teen daughter.

"Went with her mother," Hank says sadly. "She knows the whole story and has adapted pretty well, all things considered. She misses me and I really miss her. She's coming out in a couple weeks on a school break."

"You sound pretty blasé about the whole thing," Mike says.

Hank shakes his head. "It's a long story, Mike."

"I'm not going anywhere," Mike says. "You've got somewhere to be that I don't know about? And I bet you haven't told anyone about this either."

"I didn't want you guys thinking any less of me," Hank says sadly.

"Hank, that would never happen," Mike assures him. "Marriages end all the time. Sad but true. You guys were married for over ten years. It had to hurt to end it, no matter what the reason."

"It hurt to loose Bria but the marriage ending, no that was more of a relief." Hank looks at the young man sitting next to him. He can see the expectant look on his friend's face. He can also see the honest caring and compassion.

"Bria was an accident," Hank confesses.

"Excuse me?"

"Trudy and I were friends. Friends only. We were both involved with someone else. I had a fight with my lover and was looking to prove something. I don't know what was going through her mind at the time. Anyway, we wound up having sex and the next thing I know, Trudy comes to me and tells me she's pregnant and I'm the father. She was terrified of her parent's reaction. We got married right away and the rest, as they say, is history."

"But Bria…"

"Was the light of my life," Hank says. "She's bright, kind, and honest. She's gonna be quite a lady when she grows up. I am so proud of her."

"Was?"

Hank cannot bear to meet Mike's gaze, too afraid of what he'll see mirrored in his expressive eyes. "She's not even mine. I'm not her father."

Mike sits silently, waiting for Hank to continue. He can sense that he is having a hard time talking.

Hank shakes his head and tries to shift his position on the side of the bed. "Look, this isn't really somethin…"

"You've never told anyone this, have you?" Mike asks.

"I didn't know myself until last year," Hank answers sullenly.

"And that's what prompted the divorce?"

Hank sighs. "If only it were that simple."

"I can understand if you don't want to talk about it," Mike tells his friend. "But whatever you tell me stays in this room. It goes no further."

"I trust you, Mike," Hank sighs. "It would be so easy to tell you all of it but I can't. Your opinion, your opinion of me, means too much to me. I don't think I could take it if you…if you…"

Mike shifts gingerly sideways on the bed. He lifts his hand to Hank's chin, turning him to face him. "Hank, I'm your friend. I care. I care a lot." **A lot more than you'll ever know** He swallows around the lump filling his throat. "Nothing you can say will change my opinion of you. I know you are a good man, Hank Stanley."

"It's not a pretty story," Hank admits.

"It's your story," Mike says softly, strongly resisting the urge to pull Hank to his chest to comfort him.

"You are not going to let me off the hook, are you?"

"You only have to tell me what you are comfortable with," Mike answers. "And you can tell me right now to go back to my own bed and to mind my own damned business. If that's what you want, then I'll do it."

Hank tips his head back and stares at the ceiling. **How can I tell him? What can I tell him? No matter what I say he'll think less of me as a man** When he feels Mike's still cool hand slip into his, Hank knows he must bare a part of himself to his friend.

"Trudy told me she was pregnant with my child," he begins. "Back then, you did the only 'noble' thing. You got married. We had a quick wedding. Told all our friends and family that we were madly in love and didn't want to wait to get married. Her father was a preacher. He wouldn't have understood his daughter getting pregnant out of wedlock. We got married but it was a marriage in name only. Bria was late so that took care of any questions that people may have had about her coming along so quickly in our lives. Bria was such a good baby. She hardly ever cried and you could tell from the beginning that she was bright. She loved everyone, except my mother-in-law. But no one really cared for her. I joined the fire service and we bought a house eventually. Just one great big happy family. At least to the rest of the world."

Mike gently squeezes Hank's hand in encouragement.

"Yeah, we were the perfect family alright," Hank scoffs. "If you count the fact that I never once made love to my wife in the entire 13 years we were married. I never touched her. She knew I didn't love her. I knew she was in love with someone else. Someone she couldn't have. We presented a perfect front to the rest of the world. It was all a sham."

The pain in Hank's words wraps around Mike's heart. His grasp tightens around the cold hand in his.

"I didn't love her. I tried. But the feelings just weren't there. Basically, we stayed together for Bria's sake. I knew she was having an affair. I didn't ask for details. I presumed she was happy with her lover. We never discussed it. Her lover could give her what I couldn't." Hank's voice drops lower and lower as he speaks.

Hank pauses for several moments before continuing. "Last year, Bria entered the Science Fair at school. You know she wants to be a doctor when she grows up. She decided to do a project about blood types. She conned Dr. Brackett into helping her out. Anyway, from the lab tests, we found out I couldn't be Bria's real father. Our blood types are incompatible. When I confronted Trudy about it, she admitted she lied. The whole story came out then. Seems I didn't know my "friend" as well as I thought. Turns out she'd been sleeping around with anything with a pulse. And I do mean anything. She has no idea who the father could be. She evidently tried to con a couple of other men into marrying her before she got around to conning me. I guess I was just an easy mark."

"You did what you thought was right," Mike tells his friend. "You are more to Bria than a father. You're her Daddy."

Hank shakes his head sadly. "I was such a fool. Even though I wasn't in love with Trudy, I loved her. She was the mother of my child. That meant something to me. I wanted to give them both the best. I worked hard, gave them everything they needed. And I was faithful to them both. I knew Trudy was having an affair. But I never once, never, broke my vows. I promised… I promised…" Hank heads his head.

"Hank, you didn't do anything wrong." Mike's conviction ringing in his words. "You did the right thing."

Hank continues sadly. "It's ironic, really. She fell in love a couple of years ago. Head over heels. But her lover was married. She couldn't have the one person she wanted. She changed her ways. Became totally loyal, to her lover. When I told Trudy I wanted out of the marriage, she went to Val. They've been living together in Maine ever since. They are happy together. Bria's happy."

"Bria is okay with all of this?"

"Believe it or not, yeah," Hank smiles, thinking of his daughter. "She never said anything when her mom came out and admitted to being a lesbian. Never acted like anything was wrong. She and I had a long talk about it. She knew there was something different about my relationship with Trudy but didn't really question it. She's happy for her mother. She knows that Trudy and Val are in love. She hated leaving California at first, leaving me and all her friends. But she's adapted well to her new life."

"And how are you adapting?"

"I miss Bria terribly but we talk on the phone several times a week. I knew that with my work schedule there was no way I could keep her here with me. It was very hard to let her go but I trust Trudy now. She wants what's best for Bria."

"What about what's best for Hank?"

Hank remains totally silent. Mike sees the pain in his friend's expression.

Mike pauses before asking his next question. **Do you really want to know? Can you take the truth? Do you really think you stand a chance with him?** "You said you had a lover before you married Trudy. Have you tried getting in touch?" Mike steels himself for the answer.

Hank shakes his head. "I know now there was no real substance in that relationship. That's what caused the fight that started this whole crazy thing. I wanted more than they were willing to give. I guess I'm just not cut out for…"

Mike's anger flares. "Just cut it out," he says. "I don't want to hear that from you."

"Mike, who in their right mind would want to get involved with me?" Hank asks. "Look at me. I'm 37 years old, divorced if you could call it that, and I have one of the most dangerous, low paying, demanding jobs in the world. Who would want a package like that?"

Just then the door to the room opens and the young nurse walks in. Mike turns his rage on her. "GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT! NOW!"

The frightened nurse backs her way out of the room.

"Mike…"

Mike turns on his friend. "I won't sit here and listen to you sell yourself short. Yes, you are 37 years old and are very dedicated to your job. A job you happen to love very much. You have a great sense of humor, you are kind, compassionate, and smart. You care about your friends and your family. I could give you a very long list of people who would want a package like that!" **And my name would be on the top of the list** Mike paces jerkily between the two beds, his IV swinging precariously on the pole.

"After everything I've just told you, how can you defend me? How can you even stand to be in the same room with me?"

Mike comes to a stop directly in front of Hank. He can see the moisture in his friend's eyes. "Hank Stanley, you are one of the most kind, generous, compassionate, and honorable men I know. Nothing that you've said here today makes a bit of difference in how I look at you. My opinion of you hasn't changed one bit."

"Then what are you so angry about?"

"I'm madder than hell that Trudy would even think of using you the way she did. I'm pissed as all get out that she would be so callous as to disregard your feelings. I hate that you've had to go through this because of HER." **Might as well tell him all of it** "And I have to admit that my feelings are hurt because you couldn't come to me about any of this."

Hank sees the pain in his friend's face. "I was scared. I was afraid that you wouldn't … wouldn't…" Hank swallows hard. "The only things I have left are you, the rest of the guys, and the department. I couldn't risk losing you."

"You co…"

"What the devil is going on in here?" the charge nurse yells as she comes through the door. "And what are you doing out of bed?"

"I had to use the head, okay," Mike says, recognizing the nurse as the one who gave Johnny, Roy, and Marco a rough time last time they were all admitted.

"You are confined to bed rest," the nurse says as she crosses the distance to Mike. "Now get back into that bed."

Mike hobbles back to his own bed. "Look, you don't have to yell."

"You are the one who yelled at my nurse. You are the one who is out of bed without permission. You are the one in trouble here. I don't want to hear any back talk from you."

"Look Miss…," Hank begins, trying to defend Mike.

The nurse turns her irritation on Hank. "And I don't want to hear any back talk from you either. Now, both of you, in bed. It's time for your vitals and then dinner."

Mike climbs back into bed, settling in carefully as his body protests the pressure of the mattress. He starts to comment but she abruptly puts a thermometer in his mouth. Resigned, he leans back against his pillow.

As the nurse finishes their vital signs, the dinner trays arrive. "You have 20 minutes to eat," she tells them. "I'll be back."

"Back for what?" Hank asks skeptically.

"Your baths," she says as she ducks out the door.

**********

Mike stirs the pasta and then moves to the oven to check the progress of the garlic bread. Satisfied with the results, he moves back toward the stove. He lifts the lid to the simmering pot of spaghetti sauce. It's his first shift back to work and he wants to make this meal a special one.

"That smells great, pal," Hank says with an appreciative sniff.

Mike lifts a spoonful of sauce for his Captain to taste.

Hank places his hand on Mike's shoulder for balance as he leans forward to wrap his lips around the edge of the offered spoon. He closes his eyes as he savors the flavor of the red sauce. "Michael, I think you've outdone yourself this time. This is fantastic."

At the touch on his shoulder, Mike feels as if he's been shocked. The heat from Hank's hand travels straight though him to lodge low in his belly. Watching the full, soft lips curl around the spoon tightens his chest. The long lashes against pale cheeks causes his hand to start to tremble. But it is the softly spoken praise, almost a whisper, which makes his heart skip several beats. It takes a moment for him to form a reasonable response. "The pasta should be done in about 2 minutes. I was just gonna put the salad on the table."

"Let me help," Hank offers. When Mike goes to pass him the large bowl of freshly tossed salad, their fingers brush. That small contact causes a flash of heat to travel through Hank's body to settle at his core. Resisting the urge to hold the fingers instead of the salad bowl, he reluctantly moves toward the table.

Mike double checks his preparations. If he had has his way, this dinner would be taking place somewhere much more private. An intimate table for two, a bottle of wine, candlelight and soft music instead of group seating, milk and tea, florescent lighting and the drone of dispatch. **And just who were you planning on sharing this romantic dinner with? Like he'd accept YOUR invitation**

Hank hears the bay doors open. "Gage and DeSoto made it back just in time," he observes. "Hopefully they can sit down long enough to eat."

Mike struggles to concentrate on what he is doing. "How many runs have they had today?" he asks.

"Too many," Johnny says as he enters the day room. "I'm beat." He collapses on the couch.

"Don’t get too comfortable there, pal," Hank cautions. "Lunch is almost ready."

"Smells great, Mike," Roy says as he crosses to the sink to wash his hands.

Marco and Chet enter the kitchen from the back door. After washing their hands, they join Roy at the table. Mike begins to put the food on the table.

"Gage, are you going to join us?" Hank asks as he takes his seat.

"I don't think I have the energy to eat," Johnny moans from the couch.

"Get your sorry butt over here, Junior," Roy admonishes. "With the kind of day we are having this may be our only meal."

"Today is a piece of cake compared to my days off," Johnny says as he pulls himself off the couch. "Man, I'm worn out."

"Went out with Harriet, huh?" Chet asks with a knowing grin.

"How did you know, Kelly?" Johnny asks as he washes his hands at the sink.

"I have my sources," Chet says as he passes the salad bowl around the table.

Mike ladles up six plates of pasta, passing them out one by one, making sure to serve Hank first. He watches anxiously as Hank takes his first bite. When he sees the look of satisfaction on his face, only then does he take his place at the table.

"Oh, yeah?" Johnny retorts as he passes the freshly grated cheese. He winces at the stretching movement.

"Harriet wore you out, Gage," Kelly laughs. "You weren't man enough to handle her."

"How would you know about her, Kelly?" Johnny asks around a mouthful of garlic bread.

Roy automatically passes Johnny an extra napkin as crumbs go flying as Johnny talks with his mouth full as usual.

"Heard all about her from Dwyer," Chet answers. "So Gage is she as hot as they say. I heard she's a real screamer."

"A screamer?" Roy asks, not sure he wants to know the answer.

Johnny chuckles. "It's a good thing my neighbors are hard of hearing or they'd have called the cops."

"She screams?" Hank asks. "Why?"

Johnny gives Hank a suspicious look. "Um…Cap…aaaa…" He tries to think of a polite way of answering the question. "She's very vocal, Cap."

"Very vocal." Hank is still confused. He looks at Roy who is blushing furiously and wishing he was anywhere but where he is.

Chet does not have the same inhibitions as Johnny. "Cap from what I hear this woman is wild. A man could be deaf by the time he's finished with her."

Chet sees the still confused look on Hank's face. "Cap, she screams every time she cums," he explains. "And believe me Cap, she cums a lot. Dwyer took her out last time he had two days off. Had to call in the next day he was so wore out. They went at it around the clock. Fu…"

"KELLY!" Hank all but shouts as he drops his fork.

"But Cap…"

Hank shakes his head. "I do not want to discuss this lady's lovemaking habits while I'm eating dinner," he admonishes. "Shouldn't be discussing it at all, as a matter of fact."

"It certainly isn't lovemaking," Chet says.

"Kelly."

"But Cap…"

"Chet what do you know about lovemaking and having sex? Do you even know there's a difference?" Marco pipes up.

Hank looks at each of his men, wide eyed.

"And what makes you such an expert, Marco?" Chet asks in defense.

"Anybody can have sex Chet," Marco explains. "It takes a lover to make it special."

"And let me guess, you're a lover?"

"I've never had any complaints," Marco admits with a proud grin.

"Probably cause they never hung around long enough after…"

Hank clenches and unclenches his fists as he tries to hide his embarrassment. He cannot believe the conversation floating around him.

"And when was the last time you got beyond first base?" Marco retorts.

"Look pal," Chet says.

Mike tries to intervene. "Marco, pass the bread please."

Marco all but throws the breadbasket in Mike's direction. He mutters a soft curse toward Chet.

"So Chet, you gonna answer his question?" Johnny asks. "Or when WAS your last date anyway?"

"Look man, I get plenty of women in the sack," Chet retorts.

"Yeah, your dates are so ugly you have to put a sack over their heads," Johnny teases.

"And can you prove you were actually with Harriet for the last couple of days," Chet asks. "Could be you couldn't score with her and are just faking it to save your sorry hide."

Johnny glares at Chet. He very carefully puts his fork and knife down next to his plate. He very deliberately unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt. He pulls the fabric aside to reveal his love bite covered chest. "Satisfied, Chet."

Chet just laughs. "Doesn't prove a thing. Rumor has it she marks you in a much more delicate area if you score with her."

Johnny stands up and moves for his belt buckle.

"That's it! I've had enough," Hank says as he pushes away from the table, his food forgotten, his appetite ruined.

"Way to go, guys," Mike says, glaring at the others. "Great first day back for Cap."

Mike collects his and Hank's plates and leaves the room. He goes toward Hank's office. He looks through the small window to see Hank pacing nervously in his office. With his hands full, he is unable to knock. Using his shoulder, he pushes the door open partway. "Can anyone take refuge in here, Cap?"

Hank looks up, surprised to see Mike at the door. He shrugs. "Come on in."

Mike places Hank's plate on his desk. "I hope the spaghetti is okay."

"Never better Mike," Hank says honestly. "Best ever, in fact."

"If it's the company…" Mike says, turning to leave.

"Is that all guys think about today? Getting someone in the sack?"

Mike is taken aback by Hank's question.

"I'm sorry, Cap. Johnny and Chet were out of line."

Hank turns to look at Mike. "Is that what it's all about? Sex? Getting laid? Is that all people care about anymore?"

"Not everyone is as sex starved as Gage and Kelly," Mike says.

"I guess I've just been out of circulation far too long," Hank sighs. "What happened to romance? Do people still talk to each other? Is there such a thing as a quiet walk on the beach? Holding hands? Or is everyone expected to just hit the sheets the moment they meet?"

Mike sees Hank's forlorn expression. "No, romance is still very much alive. There are still people out there who believe in taking things slow. Getting to know someone, romantic dinners, moonlit strolls, shared whispers and giggles, holding hands, commitment, and making love." Mike closes his eyes, imagining sharing all of that with the man in front of him. All of that and more. **Right, like you stand a chance with him**

"You sound like a true…" Hank's words lodge in his throat when he turns to see the longing and desire on his engineer's face. "…romantic." **Right, like you stand a chance with him**

"Yeah, well we all can't be blessed with the Ol' Gage Charm." Mike wiggles under the close scrutiny of his friend.

"Thank god for that," Hank chuckles nervously, confused by the tension he feels coming from Mike. He shuffles over to the desk. "Can't let this good food go to waste. Join me?"

Mike sits at the side chair. They eat in companionable silence for several minutes, each man lost in their own thoughts, their own suppressed desires.

After taking out the trash, Mike is the last one to head to bed. He goes toward the locker room. He walks in just as Johnny and Roy head toward the dorm, leaving Hank alone. Mike takes a deep breath and goes over to his locker, adjacent to Hank's. He pulls his blue uniform shirt out of his pants.

Hank pulls his t-shirt out of his pants and over his head before crossing over to the sink. He bends to wash his face and brush his teeth. Mike picks up his own shaving kit and turns to go toward the sink. He stops and gasps. "My god."

Hank looks up in the mirror. He sees the shocked look on Mike's face. "Mike, what's wrong?"

"Your back."

Hank tries to look over his shoulder. He catches a glimpse of his back in the mirror over the sink. "I don't think it's any worse than yours must be." He notices that Mike's face has lost all color. He moves toward his friend. "Michael?"

Mike shakes his head and waves him off. "I know I've got a few colorful bruises of my own. Just seeing how badly you were hurt…" Mike realizes just how differently everything could have ended if Hank hadn't risked everything to save him. He hates seeing the evidence of his friend's pain. "I don't know what to say."

"Mike, I'd lay my life down for you," Hank admits. "There was no way that I was just gonna sit there. I didn't even think about it. I wasn't gonna give up on you. You don't have to say anything. It's okay."

"You know I would have done the same thing," Mike admits. "I…"

Mike stops when Chet barges into the room and heads for the toilet.

Hank turns back to the sink. "It's getting late. Let's get some sleep."

Each man completes their nightly ritual and heads to their own bunk. However, neither man is quick to fall asleep, each caught up in thoughts of the other.

**********

Hank pulls his car into the small driveway of Mike's rented house. Before the car even stops, Bria is out the door. "Uncle Mike!"

Mike drops the garden hose he is holding as the young girl launches herself at him. "Brat!" He envelops her in a hug.

Hank climbs out of his car, leaving it running. "Hi, Mike."

"Morning, Cap," he says with a smile as he loops his arm around Bria's shoulders.

"Are you sure this isn't too much trouble?" Hank asks.

"I'm glad to have the company," Mike answers. "And I could use the help too."

"I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours," Hank says. "Just gotta go file some paperwork across town."

"It's no problem," Mike says as he ruffles Bria's hair. "We are gonna wash the truck here then maybe, just maybe, I might be persuaded to take this brat out in the dune buggy. If she behaves, and if you approve."

"Uncle Mike!" Bria protests. She looks up at the handsome firefighter. She sees the happy grin as he faces her father. "Daddy, can I please?"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna regret this," Hank says. "I see the two of you ganging up on me if I say no."

"Well, if YOU behave, maybe you can have a turn when you get back," Mike taunts.

Hank sees the sparkle in Mike's eyes. The tall firefighter is wearing only tank top and a cut off pair of shorts. The bright morning sun catches the highlights in his hair and the mischief in his eyes. Hank's heart skips a beat at the sight.

"Okay, just keep her out of trouble," Hank says.

Bria runs to her father. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, pumpkin," Hank says as he returns her enthusiastic hug. "Behave for Mike, okay."

"I will, Daddy," Bria promises. "Uncle Mike is cool."

Hank hands her a small beach bag. "I'll pick up lunch on the way back," he offers. "Thanks Mike."

Mike looks at Bria. "Come on, brat. Let's get this truck washed so we can go have some fun."

Bria leans back in the seat of the dune buggy, watching the waves roll in. "You've been pretty quiet today, Uncle Mike."

Mike looks sideways at the young girl. His sunglasses hide his expressive eyes.

"Okay, quieter than usual," Bria corrects. "Dad too. Is there a problem at the station?"

"No, nothing new going on there," Mike answers. "Same old stuff."

Bria continues to stare at the waves. "Uncle Mike, do you think my Daddy is happy?"

"What prompted that question, brat?" Mike asks, all his senses instantly on alert.

"Daddy told me he told you about my mom and I moving to Maine and all," Bria says. "He said you are the only one he's told from work. That's why he won't let me go to the station to see the rest of the guys. I didn't think I was even gonna get to see you this trip."

"Your dad did tell me," Mike admits. "But he's a very private person. I guess that may be why he hasn't told the others yet."

"So do you think he's happy? He and I have had a great time this week," Bria says. "But I don't know. It's like there's something going on that he's not telling me about. All he talks about is you and the station. He gets real quiet and just kinda stares off into space. Some times he's just so happy and then other's he's got this sadness about him. Do you think he's lonely?"

"Bria, your dad isn't one to come right out and talk about his feelings," Mike cautions. "I really haven’t noticed a change in his behavior. He's been spending a lot of time at work and working some extra shifts but we're all doing that nowadays."

"You know, he reminds me of a friend of mine at school," Bria sighs. "She's got this crush on this guy and he doesn't even know she's alive. Treats her like a kid sister. Do you think my Daddy could be in love?" She looks at him expectantly.

"I don't know," Mike admits. "He hasn't said anything to me about it."

"You know, I think you are his best friend," Bria says. "If he had a problem, he'd come to you right? He'd tell you if he was in love, right?"

"Bria…"

"Uncle Mike, I just want him to be happy," Bria cries, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "Mom really did a number on him. I don't know if he can ever get over what she did to him."

Mike takes the crying girl into his arms. He rests his chin on the top of her head and stares out to sea, trying to hold the moisture in his eyes in check. "I know, Bria. I just want him to be happy too."

**********

When they get back to Mike's house, they find Hank reclining on the deck, overlooking the ocean. "You certainly look comfortable, Cap," Mike teases as they join him on the deck.

"I was beginning to think you'd stolen my daughter," Hank retorts as he stretches out in lounge chair. "First quiet moment I've had since she arrived."

"Gee thanks Daddy," Bria says as she flops easily onto the chair with her father.

Mike leans against the railing, watching the interaction between father and daughter. He realizes the shadows he's been seeing in Hank's eyes are almost gone. This is the first time he's admitted to himself that he has seen a change in his friend.

"I picked up some chicken on the way back. It's in the kitchen. Did you two work up an appetite?"

"I'm starved," Bria says as she bolts off her father's lap, kisses his cheek, and then runs into the house via the open sliding glass doors.

"I hope you don't mind that I let myself in," Hank says as his daughter disappears inside.

Mike sees the shadows start to return. "Hank, you are always welcome here. You can come and go as you please."

"Thanks Mike. That means a lot to me." Some of the sparkle comes back to his eyes. "Ummm. I was wondering. Do you have plans for this afternoon? There's something I'd like to show you."

"No plans," Mike says with a grin, seeing the barely contained excitement. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise," Hank says. "I've got to drop Bria off at her friend's house in about an ninety minutes. She's gonna spend the next two nights with her since we're working. We can go from there, if you'll come with me."

**********

Hank pulls his car to a stop at the end of the long driveway. "This is it."

Mike looks at the neglected house in front of them. The yard and shrubbery is overgrown, nearly blocking the view of the old wood framed house. The large wrap around porch is sagging and the lower level windows have been boarded up.

"This is…" Mike is unsure how to respond.

"Mine, maybe." Hank answers. "I put a bid in on her this afternoon. That's where I went."

"You are buying a house," Mike asks. "This house?"

"I know it needs work. A lot of work. But when I saw it, I fell in love with it. It just seemed to say Welcome Home Hank."

Mike watches as Hank tries to control his bubbling excitement. "Do you have a key? Can we go inside?"

"You really want to go in?" Hank asks.

"Yeah." Mike opens his car door and gets out. "Are you coming?"

Hank leads Mike up to the front steps. Two risers are missing and the steps cant at a crazy angle. He gingerly makes his way onto the front porch. He twists a key in the old lock and the door squeaks open on protesting hinges.

Hank proudly shows Mike the house. Even through the neglect, Mike can see the house is well built. The hardwood floors are very solid. The walls papered and plastered. Chandeliers hang in most rooms. Most of the original fixtures are still in place in the rambling two-story, 4-bedroom home. A large backyard is visible from the upstairs bedrooms. The main living room and the master bedroom each have large fireplaces.

Hank stands in the master bedroom. "Do you like it?"

"The house is fantastic," Mike says, truly intrigued by the home.

"I put a bid in on it this afternoon. I'll know in a couple of days if the owners accept it," Hank says nervously. "I…ummm. I want to thank you for giving me the courage to do this."

"Me?"

"After our talk in the hospital the other night, I got to thinking. I still have a lot of challenges to meet. I wanted to sort things out. I went for a drive and somehow wound up here. I did some checking and found out the place has been for sale for years. It just seemed like the right thing to do."

"So where do I fit into this picture?"

**Careful how you answer that** Hank's inner voice cautions. **I don't think he's ready for the whole story just yet** "You gave me the kick I needed to get my life in order. I can't change the past but I'm gonna have say in my future. I know what I want and I'm not wasting a minute going after it."

"I'm very happy for you, Cap," Mike says, catching his friend's enthusiasm.

"You don't think I'm crazy for buying this place, do you?" The doubt resurfaces.

Mike looks around the room, seeing the water stained ceiling, the peeling paint and plaster, and the obvious neglect. He walks over to his friend and puts his arm around his shoulder. "Yeah, Hank. You're crazy. Crazy in love." **And you're not the only one**

**You don't know just how right you are** "You know I'm gonna need some help making this place a home," Hank says carefully. "Will you help me?"

"I'll be here. For whatever you need."

***********

After walking around the house and yard, Hank and Mike head over to The Stationhouse, a popular bar that caters to firefighters. Finding a table in the back corner, they continue to discuss Hank's plans for the house over ice cold mugs of beer. They are so engrossed in their conversation, they don't notice a rather drunk man walk up to the table.

"Surprised to see you here, Stoker buddy," the man slurs as he slaps Mike hard on the back. "Figured you have your head buried in the manual already. List's been out two hours. How come you're not studying?"

"Paulson, what are you talking about?" Mike asks, leery of Paulson's motives.

"Revised eligibility for the Captain's Exam," Paulson says. "Gonna go for the Triple Crown aren't you?" The drunken firefighter leans heavily on the table as he wobbles back and forth.

"Paulson, what revised list?" Hank asks.

"Just came out this afternoon," Paulson says. "Posted on the wall over there." He points to the wall by the bar.

"Thanks for the good news Paulson," Mike says, his tone dismissive.

Hank stands. "Come on Paulson, let's see about getting another cold one." He leads the man back toward the bar, dumping him on a stool. He goes over to the bulletin type board and removes the list and accompanying memo. He brings it back to the table and hands it to Mike.

"It's an obvious copy," Hank says, "but you're on the eligibility list. Congratulations Mike."

Mike shakes his head. "But I'm a week short of qualifying for eligibility. I checked when they announced the date for the exam."

Hank reads the memo. "They've changed the date, moved it back two weeks. That makes you eligible. Are you gonna take it?"

Mike shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Hank asks, caught totally off guard.

Mike thinks hard about how to answer Hank's question. **Yeah, tell him you were grateful when you first saw you weren't eligible. Meant you could continue to work with him everyday** "It's less than 5 months away. Not a lot of prep time."

"Mike you are one of the best engineers in the county. You are ready to move up."

"Anxious to get rid of me?" Mike takes a long sip of his beer to hide his nervousness over Hank's possible reply.

"No," Hank answers. "I know I've been lucky to have you on my crew. I couldn't have asked for a better engineer. I know you want to move up. We've discussed it at your quarterly reviews."

"I do but I'm not sure now is the time?"

"That's a question. What's making you hold back?"

"We've got a great company now, best in the County," Mike says. "I don't want to break that up. We all work well together." **And I'm afraid that if I leave the station and your shift, I'll never see you again**

"We are the best in the County but you know as well as I do, the shift can't stay together forever," Hank reminds him. **And as long as you are my Engineer, I can't do anything about the less than professional feelings I have for you.**

Mike laughs. "Sounds to me as if you are trying to get rid of me." **And I don't think I could stand not having you in my life**

Hank shakes his head. "Mike, I just want what makes you happy."

Mike recalls the conversation with Bria on the beach earlier that day. "I just don't know. It's a big step. I'll have to think about it."

"I'm not going to pressure you." **No matter how much I want to. No matter how much I want you** "But I will support whatever decision you make. I'll even help you study for the exam."

**But will you think less of me if I decide not to pursue it at this time**

**********

Mike leans against the side of the engine for several long minutes, trying to bolster his courage. After tossing and turning all night, he has finally come to several decisions about his future. Knowing he is risking everything on his decision, he hopes he is making the right choices. Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself away from the engine and crosses the equipment bay to Hank's office.

"Cap, can I talk to you for a minute?" He winces at the nervous sound of his voice.

"Sure, Mike, come on in." Hank has been waiting all morning for Mike to come to him. He sensed a tension in Mike during roll call. They had spent several hours at The Stationhouse the night before. Even though they hadn't discussed the exam again, he knew that Mike Stoker was a man who had a very difficult decision to make. "Grab a seat."

"Did you hear about the house yet?" Mike asks, not quite ready to get to the task at hand.

"No, I probably won't for a few more days, according to the realtor," Hank answers. "But I don't think you really came in here to discuss the house, did you?"

Mike looks down at his clenched fists resting in his lap. He takes a deep breath. "Did you check with LA. Is the list for real?"

"It's very real, Mike," Hank assures the nervous man in front of him. "McConnikee even called this morning to make sure you were aware of the update."

"I see."

"Have you made a decision?" Hank realizes he's not the only one nervous about the decision Mike has to make.

Mike closes his eyes to visualize his future. Once again he runs the pros and the cons over in his head. He pictures the possible outcomes of his answer. **Gonna chicken out? Or are you gonna make the one decision that gives you the future you really want, if you're man enough to take the risk?**

"I've decided…I've decided to take the exam." **I want you as a part of my life and I can't have you as long as you stay as my Captain**

Hank smiles. **Thank you Lord. I've got a chance with him yet** "Captain Stoker. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Well, I still have to pass the exam," Mike says sheepishly.

Hank pulls Mike's personnel file out of the pile of papers on his desk. "I've been looking at your file, Mike. You scored 5th on your engineers exam. I don't think this will be any different."

"I don't have a lot of prep time," Mike reminds him. "There are lots of guys who have been studying since the original list came out last year. Will you be disappointed if I…"

"I don't want to hear you talk like that, Michael," Hank says, sitting up straight in his chair. "You will pass this exam. You'll do fine. I know it."

"You offered to help me study yesterday," Mike says. "Can we make a deal?"

"Of course I'll help you study," Hank says. "We don't need a deal."

Mike shakes his head. "If you'll help me prep for this exam I'll help you renovate the house."

"If I get the house," Hank says. "It's not a done deal."

"I have a good feeling about this. It felt right seeing you in that house yesterday."

Mike and Hank each smile, remembering exploring the house yesterday and discussing renovation plans. **WE felt right in that house yesterday**

Hank leans forward and picks up a pile of books. "These are yours. I called Operations last night and asked to have them delivered today."

"You knew I'd decide to take the exam?"

Hank shakes his head and smiles. "Nope, just wishful thinking on my part." **And a night spent planning our future together**

***********

While Marco and Chet put the finishing touches on lunch, Hank and Mike sit at the kitchen table mapping out a study plan for Mike. As Roy backs the squad into the bay, Marco begins to put lunch on the table. "Cap, lunch is ready."

Hank looks at Mike. "I think we've got a good start here," he says. "Let's take a break for lunch and then we can go over it this afternoon."

Roy comes into the kitchen and as he passes the phone on the wall, it begins to ring. He stops to answer it. "LA County Station 51. Paramedic DeSoto speaking." He listens to the caller and then asks them to hold. "Cap, it's for you."

Hank pushes back from the table as Mike begins to collect their books and papers. He takes the items over to the end table by the couch. As he starts back toward the table, he sees the shocked look on Hank's face as he hangs up the phone. He crosses to his friend. "Cap, what is it?" Concern drips off every word.

Hank tries to find his voice. "I…Uh….I…" He swallows several times and shakes his head.

"Cap, is it Bria? Is she okay?" Mike asks.

Hank first shakes his head then nods, his mouth opening and closing but no words come out.

Mike leads him over to a chair. The others have all begun to gather around. Mike reaches out to grab Hank by the shoulders. "Cap, talk to me. What is it?"

Hank's face suddenly lights up in a smile. "I got the house! I got the house!"

Mike pulls Hank to him for a quick hug. "Cap, that's great. Congratulations."

"House? What house?" Roy asks. "You are buying another house, Cap?"

"I put a bid in on a house in the Valley," Hank explains. "That was the realtor. The owners accepted my bid. They want to close as soon as possible."

"I didn't know you and Trudy were looking for a new house," Johnny says. "Congratulations, Cap."

Hank looks at Mike, suddenly pale. "Uh…guys…I … uh…"

Mike sees the lost look in Hank's eyes. Mike tilts his head to one side and gives Hank a small nod.

Hank takes a deep breath. "Guys, I bought the house. On my own. Trudy and I got divorced last year." He braces himself for the inevitable explosion.

"Divorced?" Chet says softly, putting his hand on Hank's shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that, Cap."

"Yeah, Cap," Marco says, moving in closer. "I'm sorry."

"Cap, I'm sorry things didn't work out for you," Roy adds.

"That's too bad, man," Johnny says. He looks around at the others who are all puzzled but concerned for their friend. Everyone jumps when Henry suddenly barks unexpectedly.

Hank is caught completely off guard by his men's quiet acceptance of his announcement. "Thanks Henry," he says, trying to lighten the mood. "And thanks, all of you."

Roy takes a seat at the table. "So Cap, tell us about this house."

**********

Mike lies back on the gurney in Rampart's Treatment Room 3, an oxygen mask over his soot-blackened face. Already 36 hours into a forty-eight hour shift, he is beyond tired. So far, by his calculations, he has had maybe a total of 3 hours of downtime in those 36, the longest stretch involving his protested trip to Rampart. He is tired, sore, and has a lungful of smoke from the last structure fire. But as miserable as he is, he is more concerned about the man lying on the gurney next to him.

Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, he tries to turn toward Hank. "Cap, are you…"

"Mike, hold still," Dixie protests as she tries to draw a blood sample from his extended arm. "Hank's gonna be okay. Just relax."

Hank waves his hand in the general direction of Mike as Dr. Early listens to his chest yet again.

Joe removes the stethoscope from his ears. "You are still pretty congested," he says. "Both of you. I'm gonna have respiratory therapy come down to give you both a breathing treatment."

"Are we gonna have to stay, Doc?" Hank's voice is raspy from the effects of the smoke. He has to lift the oxygen masks in order to be heard clearly. "The department's already short with everyone out with the flu. Stoker's doing a double already."

"It's too early to tell," Joe answers. "I'll do everything I can to get you back out there but I'm not making any promises. Just lie there, keep your 02 on, and no talking. Dixie, get me those lab results right away."

Hank rolls on his side, trying to see Mike. "You okay?" His voice is raspy and raw. He has to lift the oxygen mask to be heard.

Mike nods. "Just tired." His voice is no better than Hank's. "Think we could get someone to go out to the engine to get my books."

Hank starts to laugh and it turns into a wracking cough. "Don't you ever give up?"

"Hey, I take the test in a little over a month." He mentally counts off the days and hours.

**Thirty two days, sixteen hours and 20 minutes**

"Give yourself a rest," Hank suggests, counting off the days and hours. "You've been studying non-stop for the last 4 months."

Mike starts to talk but winds up in a cough spell of his own. It takes him a minute to catch his breath. "I've taken a few hours off to rebuild that house of yours."

Hank nods.

Over the last four months, he and Mike have developed a routine. On their days off, mornings are spent working on the house and afternoons are spent studying. Often the rest of the guys would come over to help them as well. Every free moment at the station finds Mike and Hank either pouring over department manuals or remodeling plans. Evenings are spent either studying, working on the house, or on the occasional boys' night out. Their friendship has flourished yet neither man has let his true feelings be known to the other. Each man having his own reasons, they have kept their desire for the other in check. Yet each moment spent together has been cherished and hoarded.

"And you've been on the run for 36 hours straight," Hank says. "Get some rest while you can. Don't make me make it an order."

Mike chuckles. "Yes, sir." His laughter gives way to another coughing spell as Dixie comes back into the room.

"Don't you understand the meaning of no talking," she scolds. "I can hear you hacking away all the way in the hallway."

Hank goes to apologize but stops when he sees her stern look. He lies quietly as Dixie checks their vitals signs yet again.

"And I thought Johnny Gage was a rotten patient," Dixie scolds as she pulls the sheet down to listen to Hank's chest.

Mike turns on his side to look toward Hank. Dixie has pulled the sheet down to reveal Hank's hair covered chest as she evaluates his breath sounds. An unexpected wave of jealousy washes over him as he watches Dixie care for the man he loves. **Think you would have given up by now. He doesn't even know you exist. You're just one of the guys to him. Now, he and Dixie…**

"Shut up."

Dixie turns to look over her shoulder. "Did you say something Mike?"

Mike feels the color rise in his cheeks. "How's he holding up?"

"Lungs sound a little bit better," Dixie says as she replaces the sheet back over Hank. "Let's see how you are doing."

Mike lies back on the table as Dixie examines him. He tries to control his wayward thoughts, tries to ignore the man lying so close yet so far away.

Hank watches as Dixie examines Mike. Hank has to stifle a groan as Dixie places her stethoscope against his bare chest. Watching the steady rise and fall of the well-muscled torso, Hank shifts restlessly on the gurney. An unexpected wave of jealousy washes over him as he watches Dixie care for the man he loves. **What are you gonna do, knock Dixie out for touching something that will never be yours?**

"Shut up."

Dixie turns back toward Hank. "Did you say something Hank?"

"Are his lungs clearing up?" Hank asks, hoping she doesn't question him further.

"You both are making good progress," Dixie says. "You'd be doing better if you'd quit talking and just rest. It's gonna be about 10 minutes before respiratory therapy can get down here. You are both covered in soot and dirt. How about a quick bath?"

Hank and Mike exchange panicked looks.

Dixie laughs. "Don't worry guys, Denise Harris is off today. You are safe. How about I set up two basins for you and you take care of it yourselves."

"You are sure Harris is off today?" Hank asks.

"You are safe. She's on vacation. Besides, Marco and Chet are pacing nervously outside. I'll have them guard the door for you."

Mike starts to laugh and breaks into a fit of coughing instead.

"Dixie, do you think you could also have them bring our turnouts in?" Hank asks. "I'm not looking forward to putting on that wet uniform again." He nods toward a bag containing his and Mike's soaking wet uniforms.

"Not a problem," Dixie says. "Let me get some water for you and then I'll go check on the guys for you."

Hank lifts up to look over at Mike and is surprised to see he is sound asleep. Hank nods toward the other bed. "Better make that just one basin, Dixie," he whispers. "I think he's out for the count."

After they have each received a breathing treatment, Joe Early examines them again. "Well, Doc?" Hank asks anxiously. "Are we fit for duty?"

Joe looks between the two men. "Your lungs sound better. Not perfect but better. And I think Mike here could use at least an 8 to 10 hour nap."

"So, can we…" Hank is interrupted by the Handi-Talkie.

"Engine 51, what is your status?"

Hank picks up the radio lying at the foot of his gurney. "Well Doc?"

Joe nods. "Just try to stay out of burning buildings for the rest of your shift."

Mike removes the oxygen mask from his face and reaches for his turnout pants. He holds his arm out for Dixie to remove his IV. As soon as she has her back turned to take Hank's IV out, he throws the sheet back and slips over the side of gurney, stepping into the heavy turnouts. He winches as he pulls the stiff canvas over bare skin. "Remind me to start keeping at least an extra pair of skivvies on the engine. This had better be a short run."

Hank acknowledges dispatch's call as Dixie removes Mike's IV. As soon as his IV is out, he pulls his own pants on, heedless of Dixie's presence. "Thanks, Doc, Dix. Hope we don't see you again this shift." He is halfway out the door before he is even completely dressed, Mike on his heels.

"Engine 51, Squad 51. Disturbance and possible drowning. Kingston Pool Complex. Corner of Wayland and Horizon. Wayland and Horizon. Ambulance has been dispatched. Time out 20:18."

As Mike pulls the engine to the curb at the pool complex, Hank quickly assesses the situation. The squad has yet to arrive. There is a large crowd inside the fenced pool area. The sign on the front of the building reads closed for maintenance and no lights are on, either in the building or around the pool area. At least one victim lies on the ground, near the side of the pool, a police officer doing CPR. He can see where a small hole has been cut in the fence.

"Marco, grab the resuscitator, Chet get the wire cutters. Mike pull the engine around so the headlights are shining on the pool area.Let's go." Hank leaps off the engine and runs for the fence.

After enlarging the hole in the fence, they rush to the victim. Marco opens the resuscitator and places the mask over the victim's face, providing much needed oxygen. Chet checks for a pulse and then relieves the tired deputy at CPR. Mike begins to check the rest of the crowd for injuries, seeing several black eyes and bloody noses.

"Vince, what happened here?

Vince pushes himself to his feet, trying to catch his breath and work the kinks out of his hands. "Near as I can tell, this bunch went over the fence and into the pool. A fight broke out and this guy got pushed into the water, hit his head either on the bottom or on the way in. He was on the bottom of the pool when I got here." He is dripping wet.

"Any idea how long he was down?" Hank asks, looking at his watch.

"Nope," Vince says as he absently scratches his arm. "I'll see what I can find out."

Johnny and Roy arrive and assess the patient. The cardiac monitor shows the man in V-Fib. After two tries, they successfully cardio-vert him but the patient remains unresponsive and in respiratory arrest. They continue to work on their patient as Mike and Hank make the a thorough check of the crowd.

Hank calls Vince over. "Vince, I know you want to keep most of them here for trespassing or whatever but they are starting to get restless. Can we move them to the other side of the pool area perhaps? This could turn ugly real fast."

Vince nods as he vigorously scratches his chest. "I've called for back up too."

"This is all your fault, Boomer," a man in the crowd yells. "Terry wouldn't be lying there dead if you had kept your bright ideas to yourself."

"Don't go blaming me, man," the man called Boomer shouts. "You were the one who said he'd cut the fence so we could get in." He scratches at his abdomen.

"Both of you idiots just shut up," a woman in the crowd cries.

Vince tries to convince the group to move to the other side of the pool area. Boomer starts to give Vince a hard time. Vince tries to calm him and the others down. As Boomer becomes more agitated, Vince does his best to calm him down. Suddenly, Vince cries out and begins to vigorously claw at his skin.

Hank sees Vince's distress. "Vince!"

As Hank runs toward Vince, Boomer thinks Hank is charging him. Without hesitation, Boomer shoves Hank backward into the pool.

From the corner of his eye, Mike sees Boomer attack Hank and Vince suddenly fall to the ground. He sees Boomer try to go over Vince. He launches himself at Boomer but finds himself sailing toward the water as well.

Hank and Mike surface to see both Vince and Boomer on the ground. "Gage, check them out," Hank yells as he swims toward the side of the pool. "Michael, are you okay?"

Mike flips his hair back from his face. "Just peachy," he says. "Is this day ever going to end?"

Together Hank and Mike pull themselves from the pool.

"This guy's in respiratory arrest," Gage says as he assesses Boomer. "Kelly, get me some oxygen." Johnny looks at Vince lying nearby, also having trouble breathing. "Cap, I'm gonna need some more hands here. Can you call for another squad?"

Mike drops down next to Vince and begins to get vital signs. He notices Vince rubbing at his arms and legs, even though he is barely conscious. He catches the blood pressure cuff that Roy tosses to him. He gets a complete set of vitals and relays them to Johnny. "John, he's got welts all over his arm and he's grabbing at his arms and legs."

Johnny realizes that both other patients have the same welts. He looks at the pool and then back at the patients. "Cap, the water…"

Hank nods. "I'll get the reel line. We need to get everyone hosed down. Start stripping them."

Hank returns with the reel line, washing off the victims as the rest of his crew works to get them out of their clothes. Johnny and Roy hand off their initial patient to the arriving paramedics for transport as they continue to work on the increasing number of people collapsing and complaining of burning skin. As the last of the patients get rinsed off and loaded into ambulances, Roy turns back to Hank. "Okay, Cap, you and Mike are next."

"What?" Hank says as he drops the reel line and scratches at his cheek. When he realizes what he is doing he sighs. "Darn it."

"Strip Cap," Roy orders. "You too, Stoker."

Mike looks at Cap with a bemused expression. "Uh…Cap?"

"Look, you two have wasted enough time already," Roy says. "Strip now."

"Uh, Roy," Hank says feeling the color rise in his cheeks. "We have a small problem here." He begins to unhook the buckles on his soaked turnout coat.

"You are gonna have a bigger one if you don't get out of those clothes and let me rinse you off," Roy says, starting to get frustrated.

"Is he giving you problems, DeSoto?" McConnikee asks as he walks up to them.

"Won't strip down, Chief," Roy explains. "Both he and Stoker wound up in the pool."

"Strip down Hank, Stoker," McConnikee orders gruffly.

"Cap?" Mike's voice comes out as a strangled squeak.

"Uh, Chief, you may want to get a couple of blankets," Hank says as he removes his turnout coat, revealing his bare chest. The skin is red and irritated.

"Where's your uniform, Stanley?" McConnikee growls.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Hank says as he watches Mike removes his coat and toss it down on top of his coat. "Stoker and I were Code I with smoke inhalation to Rampart after our last run. We'd gotten soaked at the last fire. The docs had us get out of our uniforms and we just jumped into our turnouts when this call came in."

"You are both naked under there?" McConnikee asks, trying to hide his amusement.

Mike looks at Cap, his face red.

"Yes, sir," Hank answers.

McConnikee tries to hide his mirth but is unsuccessful. "DeSoto, get a couple of blankets. Can't have these two arrested for indecent exposure."

Mike strips as Roy holds a blanket around him while McConnikee does the same thing for Hank. He exchanges embarrassed looks with Hank.

"DeSoto, wash them down and then transport them to Rampart. I want everyone checked out on this one. No telling what kind of chemical exposure we've got here," McConnikee orders.

Hank gives each of his men a menacing look. "If I hear one snicker or one word out of any of you, you'll be on latrine duty for the rest of your careers. Do I make myself clear?"

A chorus of "Right, Cap"s and "No problem, Cap"s echo in the darkness.

Roy looks down at the hose in his hand. "Uh, Cap, you want to open up that blanket, please?"

Johnny picks up the inch and a half line. "Stoker?"

**********

Dixie walks into the treatment room. She tries hard to hide her smile but can't. "This is getting to be a habit, gentlemen."

Hank sees Dixie's amused look. He removes the oxygen mask from his face and gives her his best "Captain's glare". "If you say one word, just one, Miss McCall. I'll make arrangements for you to have to do a week's worth of ride alongs with Craig Brice."

"Is he always this crabby at ten o'clock at night?" Dixie asks, turning toward Mike.

Mike lifts his 02 mask. "Stripping in front of the entire company and a few dozen civilians has a tendency to make us both a little crabby."

"Now play nice boys or I won't give you the clean clothes I brought you," Dixie teases.

"You mean we are getting out of here," Hank says, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the gurney. He makes sure to keep the sheet over his lap.

"Calm down, Hank," Dixie warns. "I didn't say that. I just thought you might like to at least wear a pair of pants while you are waiting for Joe to come talk to you."

Hank accepts the scrubs from Dixie. "I'm sorry, Dixie. Being in here twice in one shift is two times too many. Nothing personal."

"Hey, I don't mind if you come to visit, just not as patients," Dixie tells them as she hands Mike a pair scrubs too. "My nurses are all in an uproar over having you here."

Mike looks skeptically at Dixie. "Should we ask why?"

"Two naked fireman," Dixie says. "Everyone has been volunteering to take over your care. I've even had calls from upstairs asking if you are going to be admitted. Looks like you two have your own personal fan club."

"And just how did the entire nursing staff find out we were naked?" Hank asks.

"Can I come in?" Johnny asks as he sticks his head around the door.

"There's your answer, Cap," Mike says. "No wonder he's always getting hurt. The nurses must spoil him rotten."

"And they are certainly looking forward to getting their hands on you two," Johnny teases as he comes into the room.

"Not on me," Hank says, shaking his head. "I've already got my eye on someone special."

Dixie moves to stand in front of Hank at that moment, blocking his view of Mike. He doesn't see the crestfallen look on the younger man's face.

**Didn't take him long, did it? And you thought you stood a chance with him. HA!**

Mike removes the oxygen mask. "I'm gonna go change," he mumbles softly. He grabs the IV pole and drags it toward the screen in the corner of the room. "Dixie, would you please find out if they are gonna keep me or not? I'd like to know if I'm gonna get some sleep in this lifetime."

Dixie hears the fatigue in his voice and sees the hurt expression on his face. "I'll go see what's keeping Joe. Johnny, keep an eye on these two for me, okay? Make sure Mike puts his 02 back on when he's done."

Joe Early comes back into the treatment room as Hank is changing. He listens to Mike's chest and checks his vitals. He checks Hank over again when he comes out from behind the screen.

"Well Doc?" Hank asks.

"You both have first degree chemical burns on your backs and chest where the chemicals reacted to the material of your suspenders. Your lungs are irritated still but they've cleared up some. They are no where near perfect yet but you've made some progress."

"So does that mean we can get out of here?" Hank asks hopefully.

Joe looks at both of their charts. "I know how much you both hate hospitals. You've both made that perfectly clear but I have my concerns about sending you home. You are definitely not going back on duty tonight."

"So what do we have to do to get out of here, Doc?"

"I'm concerned about your developing respiratory complications. There is also an outside chance you could have a further reaction to the chemicals but that is highly unlikely." Joe scratches the side of his nose. "I'll release you on the condition that you have someone to watch over you tonight. I want you close enough that you can get back here right away if you develop any complications. Can you meet those conditions?"

Mike sees the defeated look on Hank's face. "I can take care of it, Doc."

"Okay, you're good to go, Mike as soon as I write your discharge orders. Hank?"

"I guess I'm stuck here," Hank sighs. "No one around to take care of me."

"I said I'll take care of it, Doc," Mike says, his patience running very thin. "Captain Stanley can come with me."

"Mike, are you sure?" Hank asks. "I don't want to impose."

"Doc, just write the orders so we can get out of here, please," Mike sighs. "I'm beat. I just want to get some sleep."

Joe picks up the chart and begins to write his order as Johnny helps remove their IV's. "I'll have Dix give you some ointment to put on those burns. When you get home take a warm shower and cover the area with the ointment. I want to see you both back here before you return to duty. And at the first sign of any trouble, I want you back in here immediately. Have I made myself clear?"

A chorus of "Yes Doc"s, and two tubes of ointment later, Hank and Mike follow Johnny out of the treatment room. They return to the station to pick up their cars. Hank follows Mike and is surprised when they pull up at Mike's beachside apartment. He joins Mike at the front door.

Mike unlocks the front door and turns on the lights. "Make yourself at home." He tosses his keys on the table by the front door and drops his bag under it. "Want something to drink?"

"Dixie ran enough fluids into me already tonight," Hank says as he looks around the apartment. He can see no evidence of another occupant. "Um, Mike, you said you had some one to keep an eye on us? I don't want to intrude if you have…uh…company."

Mike turns to face Hank. "No company. I just didn't want to spend the night at Rampart. I figured we could keep an eye on each other. If you're not comfortable being alone here with me, I'll understand." **You've already broken my heart once tonight, it can't hurt anymore than it already does."

**All night. Alone** Hank tries not to smile. "No problem here. I wasn't looking forward to a night at the hospital either. Good thinking."

Mike opens the hallway linen closet and removes a set of sheets and towels. "If you want to go ahead and grab a shower, I'll make up the couch. I'll bunk out here and you can have the bedroom."

Hank pulls both the sheets and towels out of Mike's hands. **If I get in your bed, believe me, you'll be with me** "I'll be fine on the couch. You look dogged tired. Why don't you go ahead and take the first shower? You look like you are gonna fall asleep on your feet."

"Cap…"

"Do I have to make it an order, Michael?"

"But Cap…"

Hank turns Mike toward the bathroom. "Go on. I'll be fine on my own."

"But Cap…"

"If I don't hear you in that shower in two minutes, I'm gonna put you in there myself."

**Please, don't tempt me**

Resigned, Mike walks toward the bathroom, mumbling. Adjusting the water temperature, he stands under the spray, not knowing which hurts more, his sore back or his broken heart. **It sure didn't take him long, did it? Like you thought you stood a chance with him. I tried to warn you but you wouldn't listen. Look what it's gotten you. With your promotion, you won't even be able to see him at work anymore**

"Shut up." Mike turns his face up into the spray, washing away the soot, grime, and heartache.

Hank listens to the water start in the shower. **Like you really expected him to take you up on your offer. I'm telling you, you don't stand a chance with him. You are just setting yourself up for heartbreak**

"Shut up." With shaking hands, he makes up the couch into a bed. He looks at the lone pillow and then down the hallway toward the closed bathroom door. His lonesome sigh echoes around the small living room.

Ten minutes later, Mike comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his lean waist. "All yours," he calls out as he heads into his bedroom. He exchanges the towel for a pair of white briefs.

Rolling his twitching shoulders, Mike walks into the living room to see Hank going through his bag. "Shower's all yours, Cap."

Hank notices that Mike calls him Cap instead of Hank. He senses a discomfort coming from the other man. "Is there a problem, Mike?"

Mike sees the vulnerable look in Hank's eyes and tries to steel himself against the wave of tenderness that wells up inside of him. "Back just itches."

Hank grabs a tube of ointment. "Turn around."

"Excuse me?"

"Turn around," Hank repeats. "I'll take care of that."

"It's fine," Mike starts to argue.

"Michael."

Mike turns around and presents his back to his Captain. When Hank's fingers make first contact with his skin, he tenses as the heat sears straight through him. He bites his tongue to keep from moaning aloud as the heat spreads from his shoulders to his core. He tries to think of anything except the hands on his flesh, tries not to imagine those hands on him for an entirely different purpose, traveling an entirely different path.

Hank tries to keep his mind on the task at hand. Not on the feel of the smooth flesh beneath his fingers. Not on the hard muscles that ripple beneath his touch. Not on the heat scorching his fingers. Not on the path he'd rather take with his hands. He closes his eyes as he imagines his hands leaving Mike's firm back and traveling around to caress his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, tweaking the…

Hank takes a sudden step backward. "I think I'll hit that shower now. Good night, Stoker." His voice is hard as a rock and he has to stop himself from literally running into the bathroom.

Mike hears the revulsion in Hank's words. When the door to the bathroom slams, another portion of his already battered heart shatters into pieces.

Hank turns the water on cold in the shower and steps under the icy spray, ignoring the stabbing in his abused back. **Great Stanley. Molest a man under your command. Why didn't you just push him down over the back of the couch and ram it to him? He'd be sure to thank you for that when you finished with him**

Hank turns his face into the stinging spray. "What have I done?"

Mike lies in his bed, facing away from the open door. He listens as the water runs in the shower for the third time that night. After Hank had stepped out of the shower the first time, he had made a beeline to his temporary bed, refusing Mike's offer to apply ointment to his burned back. He had quickly turned the lights off in the living and pulled the covers up to his shoulders.

As sleep eludes him, Mike continues to brood over the events of the day. He constantly replays the scene the in the hospital. ** I've already got my eye on someone special** **No one around to take care of me** Mike slams his fist into his already battered pillow. **If this person is so special, where are they tonight when you need them? Don't they care enough to make sure you don't have to stay in the hospital? Why didn't you call them to come take care of you?**

Hank shuts the water off in the shower. He reaches for his towel. As he dries off, he stares at his fingers. "Should be shriveled by now. You've been in here often enough tonight," he mumbles. **And are you taking icy showers to relieve the itch in your back or your shorts?**

Hank hangs the towel up to dry and slips into his boxers. He leans against the vanity, staring at his bleary eyed reflection in the mirror. "Stanley, you're a fool. A noble, dejected fool."

Hank jumps when the bathroom door suddenly bursts open. "Mike…"

"Give me the damned ointment," Mike growls.

"What?" Hank is totally confused by the younger man's actions.

Mike reaches forward and picks up the tube of ointment from the vanity top. "Just stand there, shut up, and let me put this on your back." Mike twists the top off the tube and squeezes a large dollop of ointment onto his fingers.

"Mike…" Hank turns to face the angry man.

"I said shut up, Captain," Mike says, turning him back around to face the mirror. "Just stand there and let me get this over with. I know you can't stand the thought of touching me or me touching you. I'll be done as quick as I can and then maybe…"

Hank looks at Mike's reflection in the mirror. He sees the glassy, red-rimmed eyes and the strain on his face. He can hear the anger and sadness in his voice. He turns around to face Mike.

Mike raises his hand to apply the ointment to Hank's back. He is caught totally off guard as Hank turns about suddenly. His hand lands on Hank's chest.

Both men freeze, their eyes locked together. Two simultaneous gasps echo in the small room.

"I…I…said…turn around…"

Hank reaches up and places his hand on the side of Mike's face. "Mike, I…"

Mike tries to move away from Hank's hand. "Please, just turn around." His voice is so soft Hank can barely hear him.

Hank reaches up with his thumb to wipe at the lone tear leaking from Mike's moist, pain filled eyes.

"Please…" Mike tries to pull back from the caring hand. Ashamed, he lowers his eyes from Hank's penetrating gaze.

Hank leans forward to brush his lips lightly over Mike's. After a brief but gentle caress, he pulls back slightly. Mike's eyes are closed, the long lashes resting against moist cheekbones. He dips forward again, applying a firmer pressure to the soft skin, his lips molding and caressing.

At the first touch of Hank's lips to his, Mike's heart begins to pound in his chest. He steels himself against responding, fighting the desire building inside of him. When Hank moves in the second time, closing what little space remains between them, he inwardly prays for strength to resist what he has craved for so long. When Hank's probing tongue seeks entrance to his mouth, he gives in and parts his lips, accepting the warm invasion.

When Mike begins to return his kiss, Hank tugs the warm body closer to his, wrapping his arms around the other man, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Mike's neck. Mike's free hand caresses the tender skin of Hank's jaw.

Joined from lips to hips, hard body against hard body, both men release all of the pent up tension and desire. Without words, each tries to tell the other exactly what they are feeling, each shares the love stored in their hearts. It is the need for oxygen that finally forces the two men apart. They stand, foreheads pressed together, hands on each other's shoulders, chests heaving, gasping for much needed oxygen.

"Mike, I…"

Mike shakes his head and tries to step away from Hank. "Don't…Don't say you're sorry."

Hank tightens his hands on Mike's shoulders, being careful of the reddened skin there. "I won't, because I'm not."

Mike cannot meet Hank's gaze. "But it was a mistake. I know. It won't happen again."

Hank lifts a hand to Mike's chin, turning his head to meet his gaze. "Yes, it was a mistake. But not for the reasons you're thinking. And I'll be very disappointed if it doesn't happen again."

The love radiating from Hank's eyes combined with his words confuses Mike. "I don't…"

Hank drops a quick kiss to Mike's lips. "We need to talk. But I don't think your bathroom is the place to be having this conversation." He takes Mike by the hand and leads him into the living room.

Mike settles on the couch in the place Hank indicates. Both men turn sideways, facing each other. Hank takes Mike's hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, kissing it lightly. Mike's free hand comes up to rest on Hank's shoulder. It is then that he realizes that it is still covered in ointment.

Hank chuckles. "Might as well put that to good use," he says as he tilts his shoulder toward Mike. "That shoulder's been itching like the devil."

"You should have let me put some ointment on it the first time you got out of the shower," Mike softly scolds as he tenderly rubs the ointment into the irritated skin.

Hank sighs at the feelings Mike's fingers evoke. "I wanted to. I was just too scared."

"Scared?" Finished with Hank's shoulder, he rubs the blob of ointment he had left on Hank's chest.

Hank groans, feeling Mike's touch ignite a path of desire from his chest to his hardened loins. He reaches for the questing hand, trapping it between his own. "I was afraid I'd give into the temptation to touch you. I was afraid I wouldn't let you stop with just touching my back. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop from pulling you into my arms and showing you just how much I want you."

"Now I'm really confused," Mike admits, his hands tingling in Hank's.

Hank sighs. "This is not exactly how I planned on telling you this."

"Telling me?"

"When you burst into the bathroom and told me that you thought I was repulsed by your touch, you were wrong. Very wrong. You see, I've…I've…" Hank tries to find the right words to express what he is feeling without scaring Mike.

"Tell me."

Mike's softly spoken words tug at his heart. "Mike, I've fallen in love with you."

Mike's heart soars at Hank's confession. His smile is bright enough to light up the room until he sees the pain in Hank's eyes. "But...?"

"But I know I can't have you," Hank admits. "At least not yet."

"Not yet?"

"I'm your superior officer," Hank reminds him.

"I know that," Mike says. "That's why I decided to take the Captain's exam."

Hank blinks. "Now I'm confused."

"It was very hard for me to make that decision to take the exam," Mike explains. "If I pass and score high enough, we won't be working together anymore. I won't be able to see you every day. But if I stay as your Engineer, I can't tell you that I love you. I can't have you…"

"So we both have been hiding secrets," Hank laughs. "So when were you planning on telling me this?"

Mike blushes. "I was planning on seducing you as soon as I got my bugles. Were you going to tell me?"

Hank laughs. "I almost told you the day I told you about the divorce. It was very hard not to tell you the whole story that day."

"The whole story?"

Hank shifts his position on the couch. "Remember I told you my lover and I had a fight the night I slept with Trudy?" Mike nods. "My lover was another man. He was the first person I had ever had any type of relations with. I was scared. I was confused. I thought that maybe if I slept with a woman I'd prove to myself that I was normal. I was young, dumb, used, and confused."

"And now?"

"And now, I'm older, wiser, and very much in love." Hank's voice is confident and his eyes sparkle. "I do love you, Michael Stoker."

"I love you, Hank Stanley."

"So, you are calling me Hank again, are you?" Hank's teasing grin turns up the corners of his mouth. "You've been calling me Cap since before we left Rampart. Want to explain that?"

It is Mike's turn to shift on the couch. He ducks his head and mumbles his response.

Hank lifts Mike's chin. "I didn't hear that."

"I was jealous."

Hank shifts again and reaches for Mike. He pulls him into his lap. He kisses the top of Mike's head as he snuggles against his chest. "Why were you jealous?"

"At Rampart, Johnny said the nurses were dying to get their hands on you. You said that you already had your eye on someone special." Mike's voice is very soft as he snuggles against the furred expanse of Hank's chest. His fingers curl against warm skin.

"And if Dixie hadn't been standing between us, you would have seen I was staring at you when I said it," Hank explains. "You are the only man for me."

"So when were you planning on telling me this?" Mike asks.

"I was planning on seducing you as soon as you got your bugles."

"So it looks like everything hinges on my passing that test," Mike says.

"And I know you will pass it, with flying colors," Hank says as he strokes Mike's back. "Why do you think I've been pushing you so hard?"

"What do we do until then?" Mike inquires.

"That's gonna be the hard part," Hank admits with a sigh. "For the next month or so, we've got to act as if nothing is different. As if tonight never happened."

"That's not going to be easy."

"I know, but I'm not going to do anything to put your promotion or your career in jeopardy," Hank vows. "The department will be looking at you closely now. I won't put you at risk."

"I'm not the only one with something to risk," Mike reminds him, sitting up straight. "You've got just as much to lose as I do."

Hank stills suddenly. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Mike shifts to look directly at Hank. He leans forward and kisses him deeply. When they surface, Mike locks his gaze with Hank. "I love you Hank Stanley. I know it's not going to be easy. There are a lot of obstacles that we will have to face but I'd like to face them together. That is if you think we have a future together."

Hank runs his fingers down Mike's cheek. "Why do you think I bought our house?"

"Our house?"

"It's ours Mike," Hank says. "If you'll share your future with me."

Mike leans down to kiss Hank deeply.

"Can I take that as a yes?"

Mike looks at the love of his life. "How do you seduce a firefighter?"

=30=