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Part
51
Mike Stoker climbed wearily from the cab of the engine, slowly unbuckling his turnout and hanging it in its usual spot on the side mirror. He stood unmoving, waiting for the energy to lift his feet so that he could begin his trek into the squad room.
The rest of the crew moved even more slowly than he, a fact that did not escape Stoker's notice. With a sigh, he turned and trudged across the bay, traipsing across the vacant spot where the squad normally stood, wondering idly how much longer the paramedics would be. They had, after all, left the scene of the fire sometime during the cleanup, and by his count, already should have been waiting at the station for the engine crew's return.
"What's for dinner, Mike?" Hank plodded behind the engineer.
"Lasagna," yawned Stoker over his shoulder, "if it's not burnt to a crisp."
"Just in time!"
Both men stopped in their tracks at the voice and figure smiling innocently from in front of the oven. Joyce Stanley was just pulling out a large pan of bubbling sauce and heavenly aroma. She set it primly in the center of the already set table and stepped back, studying her handiwork with a critical eye.
"What are you doing here?" Hank asked, his voice a careful balance of neutrality and pleasantry.
Joyce lifted an eyebrow. "Well, I came down to talk to you, but you were out. I just sort of...stayed around. Thought maybe I could finish dinner for you. Sounded like you were working pretty hard at the fire." She glanced at Mike, her eyelid drooping slightly in an unmistakable gesture meant only for him.
Hank didn't bother to ask how long she'd been at the station.
"Oh, boy, food's on the table and I'm starved!" Chet Kelly eagerly yanked out a chair and dropped into it, reaching hungrily for the serving spoon and heaping a large portion of the lasagna onto his plate.
Marco Lopez followed suit, grabbing some of the garlic bread that also graced the table.
"You gonna have some?" wondered Chet, favoring the captain's ex-wife with a questioning look as he hauled the large salad bowl toward his plate.
Joyce shook her head and looked pointedly at Hank. "I've already eaten, but don't let me stop you boys from eating." She smiled thinly.
After an almost infinitesimal hesitation, Hank and Mike slowly settled into their chairs.
"I'll just wait in your office, Hank. You take your time. I just needed to discuss a few things with you." She sashayed out of the room.
"This is GREAT!" Chet enthused around a mouthful of food. He looked with some surprise at Hank and Mike, who were both watching the empty doorway with almost frightened looks.
Mike started, then slowly reached for the lasagna. Hank reached for the salad.
"Yeah, guys," grinned Marco, "it's not like it's poisoned or anything."
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