© 2005 by inkling. Standard "they don't belong to me they just come out to play now and then" disclaimers apply. "Emergency!" and its characters c Mark VII Productions, Inc. and Universal Studios. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. The settings and characters are fictitious, even if a real name may be used. Any similarity to actual persons, living or deceased, or to actual events is purely coincidental and is not intended to suggest that the events described actually occurred.

AlchemE!

by: inkling

Mike Stoker was never sure what particular combination of sun, sand, and tri-colored sno-cones made the difference. He just knew that one minute his day at the beach with DeeDee Chirokofski was just that, a day at the beach--and somehow in the next minute he knew he'd definitely need the key he'd pocketed on his way out the door this morning. Whatever mixture of elements had finally worked, now that they were sitting on the back porch of his Uncle William's beach cabin, Mike wasn't about to argue with the result.

After all, DeeDee was relatively pleasant company. She was certainly nice to look at, and as far as one night stands went, Mike could definitely do worse.

Not that he made a habit of one-night stands. No, his mother had raised him better than that. And Mike had been fortunate; he'd learned from the very first that an emotional relationship made the physical relationship better; that sex between a man and a woman who cared about each other had a special alchemy--transmuting the merely enjoyable into the sublime. But it had been a long time--years, actually--since he'd had time for the sublime. Now that he had secured his post as engineer, well, he still wasn't sure he had time for the sublime. Too many intangibles to muddle through, too many strings to entangle him--not to mention that a family of his own would leave too many lives gaping and wounded should something should ever happen to him at a fire.

No, he wasn't interested in trying to sustain a relationship, no matter how incredible the alchemy. But one night....

"Penny for your thoughts," DeeDee said in a throaty whisper, leaning over to rub shoulders with him. Mike looked from the purple-feathered sunset to DeeDee's green eyes. He said nothing, just smiled and wiggled his eyebrows at her. DeeDee chuckled and grinned back at him. Mike held the smile for a moment longer, then took another sip of his beer and turned back to the sunset. Nope, no alchemy here, none--and what chemistry there was was of the basest sort.

DeeDee reached over and brushed some sand off his leg, her hand straying a little higher above his knee than it should have, a little further in on his thigh than was proper. Mike smiled around his beer, and DeeDee's teeth sparkled in the fading sunlight. Okay, he wasn't stupid. He knew an invitation when it groped him. Mike put his arm out and pulled her to him, shifting so she was sitting on the sandy porch between his legs. She laughed, scooting back hard against him. Mike's arm went around her and his hand rested on the inside of her knee, a little further in than it should have and a little higher up than was proper. He drank his beer and leaned forward to enjoy the feel of a woman's body for the first time in a long time.

Screw alchemy.

It must have been two entire minutes that they sat and sipped their beer in companionable silence. The sun was an orange ball, burning its way beyond the lavender-hazed horizon. Just yards from where they sat, deep green waves rumbled and purred over the sand before sliding back out to sea again. Sea gulls wheeled and cried overhead, and the wind ruffled both the hem of DeeDee's very short sundress and his hair. Her hair was too well trained; not a single lacquered lock dared respond to the wind's teasing. Mike finished off his Schlitz and decided it was a good thing he hadn't sprung for anything more expensive.

"So, Amanda, she told me that Todd and her, they went to Jake's last month. Downtown, you know? And guess who they saw there? None other than..."

Mike smiled and nodded and pulled her tighter against him, let DeeDee feel his body's response to her proximity as she rambled on with a story he knew better than she did. Todd Weathers had told that tale of meeting Jimmy Stewart in the hole-in-the-wall seafood restaurant so many times the entire station had it memorized. But Mike didn't say anything, just let her carry the conversation. Sometimes it helped to have a reputation as a shy, retiring type. Besides, he'd realized early on that DeeDee didn't like silences, that she could always be counted on to fill the space between them with her voice. She never seemed to comprehend that he was a captive audience more often than not. He'd been captive most of the day today.

But he'd known from the start that was the price for what he wanted tonight.

DeeDee paused for breath, and Mike made some noise in reply before he finished off his beer and reached for another. He really wasn't being fair to DeeDee, he knew that. Their few dates had gone all right. A legal secretary, she was intelligent, a plus in his book, and busty, another plus and all too rare in weight-obsessed Los Angeles. But the intangibles necessary to conjure relationship from two separate lives just weren't there with DeeDee, no matter how often their mutual friends and acquaintances declared them to be.

Tonight wasn't about alchemy, and they both knew it.

Mike popped the top off the beer and carefully dropped it into the bag behind him before he offered the can to DeeDee. She shook her head, holding her own beer aloft. He smiled in return and took a long drink of the newly opened can as she chattered on about something. Mike wasn't really listening; he didn't really care. It wouldn't matter if he allowed himself to get lost in the haze tonight. He wasn't going anywhere but inside. Mike relaxed, savoring the beer, the sunset, the fact of DeeDee's warmth and what that meant for later. Truly a perfect end to a perfectly planned day.

DeeDee paused for breath, and Mike opened his mouth without thinking. But she took off again on another ramble and Mike put his mouth around another swallow of beer rather than the observation that maybe, just maybe, the lavender and flame clouds arching overhead were really phoenix feathers. He swallowed liquid hops and squeezed DeeDee's knee, immensely grateful that she had saved him from exposing himself. It was doubtful she'd have understood anyway; she'd probably never wondered what color the mythical firebird really was.

But Sally, she would have understood, maybe even said it first. And with her it was never casual sex--the alchemy had transmuted everything about them, every time.

"So what station are you transferring to?" DeeDee asked, turning between his knees to smile up at him.

"Station 51 in Carson City," he said, and the sound of his own voice in the dusk startled him. Why in the world was he conjuring Sally's ghost tonight? Mike took another swallow of beer and yanked his thoughts back to the woman in front of him.

"All the way on the other side of the county?" DeeDee frowned slightly, and Mike's shrug moved his entire body.

"It was the only opening on the roster that I had enough seniority to get."

DeeDee stared at him for a moment, and Mike held his breath. What if he'd been wrong, what if he'd misread the signs and DeeDee did want more from him than one night? But she smiled slightly, and nodded to herself. Turning around, she nestled back against his stomach and chest, slipped her arms around his legs and her hands between his thighs and the smooth wood of the porch. Mike didn't quite heave a sigh of relief.

"Amanda said you're going to be the engineer now. Is that what Todd does? And does that mean you won't fight fires any more?"

Mike laughed and wound up snorting beer, choking and coughing for several long seconds. Where was one of those new-fangled paramedics when he needed one? DeeDee turned to pat his back helpfully as he caught his breath, and he coughed a few seconds longer than necessary, enjoying the way her dress tightened over her bra-less breasts. Too bad she'd bought into the current ideal of beauty; instead of soft curves to go with her full bosom; the rest of her was skinny as a boy.

Sally'd had curves.

Wiping his streaming eyes with an arm, Mike took a deep breath and focused on the woman in front of him, not the one from the past. He smiled the hovering concern in DeeDee's eyes away. Did being an engineer mean he wouldn't be fighting fires anymore? No, it meant he'd be responsible for not just his own life and the man working the hose with him, but everyone on his crew, everyone whose hose was drawing pressure and water from his engine. He'd have to make sure the hoses were charged just right and not too much and not too little, make sure they had the water they needed when they needed it and not too soon and not too late. It meant he'd be driving the big engine to and from the fires, hurrying to get there and yet watching for civilians and dogs and kids and maniacs along the way. It meant....

"I'm going to be driving the engine."

DeeDee looked confused for a minute, her hand falling away from his back to rest on his leg.

"Can't anyone drive the engine?" she asked, and he shook his head.

DeeDee nodded and thought that over before she smiled at him. "Wow. That's cool."

Her eyes glittered, and Mike quashed the uncharitable thought that DeeDee had herself not just any old fireman, but one with a big red engine for this notch on her lipstick case. Well la-di-da and whoop-ti-do. Mike had been working towards this goal for the last five and a half years and this was what he came up with for his private celebration: a woman who didn't even understand what his new job would entail. He took a long pull on his beer, fighting the urge to laugh out loud yet again. Maybe he should have just settled for the party the guys from 14s had thrown for him last week.

But DeeDee was still smiling at him, her hand sliding between the frayed edges of his cutoffs and his thigh. Then again, there was something to Todd's insistence that a woman was a nice thing to have now and then. That Mike really ought to relax and live a little for once, that he deserved a tangible return for his hard work. That he should enjoy all the rewards of being a firefighter.

DeeDee reached up and laid her other hand on his cheek, smiling and tilting her head just so. Mike took the hint and the reward and kissed her ready lips, closing his eyes to both firebirds and Sally's specter. DeeDee was all he wanted or needed tonight, a woman who understood that this was about Right Now and not whether or not they were Mister and Mrs. Right.

Their mutual desire filled the creeping night, and DeeDee turned further towards him, winding her fingers in his Madras shirt now, pushing her leg beneath his, pulling him towards her. It was no surprise when she initiated the French part of the kiss. One hand on her jaw, Mike dropped his other arm around her shoulder. His beer can brushed her bare skin, and DeeDee jerked away. The can bounced out of his hand and flew into the dune grass, spewing a trail of frothy puddles on pale sand.

"Oh, I'm sorry," DeeDee said, one hand up to her less-than-perfectly lipsticked mouth. Mike shook his head. He had plenty more in the cabin. Losing one beer wasn't any more of a problem than getting DeeDee inside and into the creaking bed was going to be.

"No problem," he said, wiping DeeDee's lipstick onto his shoulder. He stepped over her and off the steps, pulling at his shorts as he did so. Boyish hips and whatever she did to her hair aside, the rest of her was appealing enough. And damn, Todd was right: she could kiss. Mike reclaimed the can and stood, staring out over the ocean, letting the last few drops of beer drip onto the grey shore. The residual warmth of sun-filled sand rooted him momentarily, the waves sighing and the gulls crying about him: Sally's voice, the night he'd told her he was leaving.

DeeDee's hand on his arm startled him, and Mike jumped. A seagull fled, dropping crab bits all over the incoming tide. He shook his head once, hard. Damn, he didn't need or want Sally haunting him, tonight of all nights. Warmth in the form of a shapely arm slipped around his waist, and DeeDee took the empty beer can from his hand. She smiled, and for once seemed to really focus on him.

"You okay?" she asked, and Mike smiled back, grateful for another rescue. He turned toward DeeDee, reached for her warmth and willingness, stepped away from the sucking whirlpool of memory.

"Yeah," he said, moments later, keeping his arm around her shoulders. Time to get on with the night's business. He had a life to live, a promotion to celebrate. Mike held DeeDee tightly to him as they walked slowly through the sand and up the steps. He grabbed the sack of beer from the wind-bleached wood, and held the door for her. Then he followed her in and the screen door slammed shut behind them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hours later, Mike stared at the remains of his purple and flame phoenix feathers, now just sooty clouds streaked across the night sky. The fish and salt air couldn't quite master the overwhelming vanilla of the air freshener Aunt Elizabeth favored, or the lingering chemical smell of DeeDee's hair. Wave after wave spilled across the inky beach, reducing the tracks of his bare feet to dark dimples in the smooth sand. A half mile or so behind him, DeeDee slept on in the creaky bed, evidently unaware her fireman had slipped away. The beach was a lonely place at night.

And if he closed his eyes, there were firebirds in the sky and the wind was Sally's fingers, caressing his face. She would have loved this place if they could have come here, together and alone.

Mike wiped a hand over his eyes, but it didn't help. All he saw in the bubbling wavelets were Sally's soft blond curls. Stepping back from an oncoming wave, Mike startled a crab into escape. He stood and watched it scuttle across the sand, the darkness lending it momentary safety from marauding seagulls.

The wind played with his unbuttoned shirt, but, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, Mike ignored its teasing and stared out over the shifting sea. He didn't know why Sally had returned to haunt him tonight. All he'd wanted was some fun with DeeDee, not razor-edged memories of his first lover. It had been years since he'd felt his heart in his throat at the thought of her, even longer since he'd held her, touched her perfect, rounded body. Why had his thoughts found Sally beneath him tonight, instead of DeeDee, warm and willing and there with him?

The small grace for the evening was that he had caught himself before he called Sally's name in the midst of DeeDee.

Mike kicked irritably at a broken scallop shell. Muddy sand splattered his bare leg, and the scallop skipped a foot or so before wobbling down into the wash of the latest wave. The wave took it, rolled it down the beach, where the next wave could wash it further out, a step closer to the heavier surf and destruction. At least DeeDee had seemed satisfied with his performance. Hopefully, he could repeat his deception in the morning.

The sand turned black beneath a slow wave, then returned to dark grey as the ocean receded in the endless synergy of tide and shore. He could have stayed in Springfield, married Sally and become...what? An engineer for Burlington Northern, following the path his stepfather had laid out for him? Good money, decent hours, a career any man but Mike could have been proud of. He could have still been a volunteer firefighter on the side. And he'd have had Sally in his arms tonight instead of DeeDee.

A foot-long piece of driftwood, bone-white in the moonlight, sailed out over the ocean into a satisfying splash. Mike moved on down the beach before the sea could regurgitate it for him. Sally had probably worn white at her wedding, despite her tearful protests that unless Mike married her, she couldn't. He'd heard that Sally's husband of these many years was the new Assistant Fire Chief. It could have been Mike--would have been Mike. Any man Chief Gannickson's daughter married would have had the right connections at both City Hall and the town's volunteer station. But there would have been no place in his fire department for a firefighter who'd deflowered Bert's daughter--no matter that the defloration had been mutual.

This time Mike let the wave nibble at his toes, then sweep around his ankles. The water swashed on up the beach and dribbled back to the ocean, taking the sand beneath his feet with it. Mike hadn't planned on sex with Sally; at just barely seventeen he hadn't even really known how to ask for it. He'd only wanted to get away from the latest fight between his mom and stepdad, arguments that always seemed to begin and end with his name. Sally...he still wasn't sure what she had wanted. Maybe she just needed to be needed. Perfect girl with the perfect family, she had everything he ever dreamed of. Yet she had come willingly to his arms that rainy afternoon in her father's toolshed--and every time thereafter.

Alchemy in action, on an oily tarp.

Mike wiggled his toes in the mud, then stepped away from the deep imprint of his feet in the gleaming sand. No, as far as he knew, Bert Gannickson never had found out how far his daughter had taken Mike in their relationship. Only one other person had ever discovered the truth of what he and Sally did in the secret places of their lives, and his mother had never condemned either of them for how Sally kept Mike sane through one of the darkest years of his life. She'd kept their secret even after he'd left home for his uncle's home in California, finishing school and starting his life over hundreds of miles from his stepfather's growing hostility and his mother's worry and Sally's soft curves.

Mike shivered, and felt himself teetering again on the brink of the black hole that had loomed so briefly before him that fall, years ago. He still didn't understand his mother's forgiveness any more than he understood her silence. And yes, she'd sent him away to separate him from Sally, to prevent the disaster even their careful relationship couldn't have prevented forever. Many of his friends remained trapped in that small town, locked into small lives and smaller dreams by an inadvertent family, all their hopes and futures tangled in ruins about the altar of impregnable youth.

But his mother had saved him, and Sally too, given them a chance to grow up and find life for themselves. She'd also found a safe haven for Mike, far away from her husband and his irritation with another man's son, a boy who couldn't quite bring himself to step up to his stepfather's expectations. So what if it had taken him a few years to find himself, away from his familiar home, away from his mother and his sister, far from the small brother who called him "Bye" and the new baby sister who would never know him--and away from Sally? He'd found his own way, his own soul, not some caricature that showed up at the in-laws or the out-laws on Sundays and holidays and who watched the world go by on the TV screen from an armchair in the living room.

No, he had more than that--much more. And along the way he'd found a family more real to him than his own kin--though that made this promotion as bittersweet as it was satisfying.

Maybe, just maybe, that's why Sally had come back to haunt him tonight. Once again, finding his way through this life was coming at the cost of the family he'd had for the last five years at Station 14. But Mike knew the Fire Department. 51s would be his family soon enough. And for the time being, for his foreseeable future, all the alchemy Mike needed was in that Fire Department, with the men who accepted him for who he was; what he was: for his unwavering presence at their backs, his unswerving loyalty to his duty, and to his crewmates.

Another inky wave spilled over the sand, and dribbled back into the sea. The tide was on its way out, receding like his desire for DeeDee. In the morning he'd drive her back to LA and go home and prepare for his first shift at 51s. DeeDee would understand if he didn't call her again. Eventually she'd find another fireman to hook up with, or maybe a cop, some other warm body in a uniform with a fancy vehicle. She'd be grateful he wished her well and sent her away to find her Mr. Right. And he'd go to 51s and get to know his new family, laughing and joking and sharing the risks and the dangers and the excitement with them until they were one soul.

Mike turned, heading back up the beach. He stayed near the tideline, on firm wet sand that was easier to walk on than the shifting stuff upslope. He knew how to keep the steps up to the porch silent beneath his weight, and he paused a moment outside to sweep the sand from his feet and legs with the stubby broom. There was a rumor about some houses for sale in a sweet part of town near his new station. He should have time this afternoon to drive by and see for himself if they'd be worth the nest egg he'd been sitting on for the last few years.

Mike caught the screen before it slammed behind him, and there was nothing left but grey sand and the ocean, sighing beneath a soot-filled sky.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Feedback is a lovely thing, and the feedbag is always out: nonniemous@gmail.com

Gratuitous authorial commentary: Blessed be my wunnerful, wunnerful circle of beta readers: JoAnn, Linda, MJ, and MaryKate sensei, who hacked and slashed (so to speak) and insisted that introspection would come *after* intercourse, not before, and also Kathy Agel for that final, all-important, pre-pub fluff and comb. Gratias ago!

If you’re interested in reading my tales somewhat in order, the time line is roughly as follows:

Expiration Date (set later in the series. Sets up Mike’s family history in my E!verse, but exists in its own continuum, otherwise unrelated to the rest of my stories.)

AlchemE! (before Station 51. Short story, more of Mike’s background in my E!verse.)

One-Winged Birds (early in the series)

31 is 13 Backwards (approximately four years into the series; written with the wonderful MJ Hajost)

Centering

Hellfire (My only Johnny-centric story, written for a most gracious Rose Po. Mike is a major secondary character in the tale, poor boy. Archived at the Squad Room.)

Holding Patterns (near the series end.)

Counting by Threes (after the series ended, but before the movie “Greatest Rescues.”)

Last but not least, Three Little Angels is its own special beast entirely.