By the Numbers Page 2

  "He likes Q. I think the puppies are going to be a bit much. He's been staying at his girlfriend's a lot." Nathaniel was sticking right with him, looking around at everything. "You need to keep your gear and stuff in here?"

  "Yeah." Trey pointed at the colored tags on the lockers that indicated what shift and what rank of fireman had their gear in that particular locker. "Can't get mixed up this way. We used to just keep our gear in our seats on the rig, but sometimes overtime guys didn't do it that way and when there was a call, we'd have to wait while they fished their stuff out of the locker. Now we just keep it all organized in there." He kind of preferred it that way, anyhow. All neat and uniform. "Is this boring yet?"

  "Hell, no. This is way, way more cool than where I work. The tour there would be more along the lines of, 'This is my desk. This is the bathroom. Oh, look, the break room. No one wiped the sink again, God.'" Nathaniel shrugged a shoulder. "Plus, who didn't want to be fireman when they were a kid? This is neat."

  "Okay." Trey chuckled. "I live it, so sometimes pointing at my gear and refrigerators seems a little mundane." He turned to the engine and opened the side panel where the water discharge and intake valves were. "Hoses get hooked up here. Here's your lesson for today: fire engines have hoses, fire trucks have ladders." Trey pointed across the garage at the fire truck that held the enormous suspension ladder on top of it. "Don't mix them up." He winked at Nathaniel. "Test later."

  "I test well." Nathaniel looked from the engine to the truck. "Which do you ride?"

  "Engine." Trey nodded at it. "See the number eleven there? That engine's called 'double'. The two number ones, get it? And this engine" - he pointed at the other one in the huge garage - "that's engine one-eleven. 'Triple'. And the truck is just the truck. Truckers are lazy," he added in a loud voice as one of them walked through the garage. Mason didn't even look in Trey's direction; he just flipped him off and kept going through to the dorms.

  Nathaniel snickered. "So, only one truck? Are there ever two? And you really work twenty-four hour shifts? That's crazy, man."

  "Never two. Engines respond more frequently to calls. Trucks are usually only called out for fires or big car accidents, since they have the tools. This is a busy station, but the truckers usually sleep all night while the engine guys could get up two or three times." He rolled his eyes. "So yeah, we're here all night. Twenty-four hours. Or forty-eight, with overtime." This was a hell of a lot more information than Trey usually gave out on the tours.

  "Wow. Makes it hard to have a social life, maybe?" Nathaniel was looking in the engine curiously. "Or to see your daughter, the poor puppy-less girl?"

  "We're off for four days in a row. I find time to go out." He grinned but omitted the fact that "going out" usually meant to the video store to grab a DVD. "And I have Lacey with me for every other four-day break and one weekend day." Not without a fight from Holly, though.

  Nathaniel frowned slightly. "That doesn't seem like a lot of time, but then I guess there's school and stuff to work around. You know what would help her get over having her daddy at work for all those nights?"

  "If you say a puppy, the tour's over." Trey laughed and strolled across the other side of the garage where the dorms were.

  "It's amazing how well you know me already," Nathaniel said as he followed along. "It's like a connection or something."

  "Tell you what." Trey pushed open the door that led to their bunk area. "I'll give you my ex-wife's phone number and you can discuss it with her. If she says yes, I'll take a puppy."

  "Is she scary?" Nathaniel grinned at him. "I mean to someone she wasn't married to. Generally scary, as opposed to ex-wife scary. And, you know, you can come see them anyway. Or at least let me take you out for a beer to say thank you for saving Q."

  Trey considered that for a minute. They were probably cute puppies, and it wasn't like his social calendar was overflowing. Besides, who the hell said no to beer? "Okay," Trey agreed, sort of surprising himself. "Sure. Puppies and beer. And I plead the fifth on the ex-wife question."

  Nathaniel smiled at him, showing his teeth and looking both pleased and surprised. "Awesome. No backing out. When's your next evening off?"

  "Tomorrow. After that, Thursday. Uhhh... here." Trey grabbed one of the numerous shift calendars off the bulletin board in the dorm hallway. "I'm green." The dates on the calendar were colored in accordance with whatever shift was scheduled to work.

  "Oh, cool." Nathaniel blinked at the chart. "Very orderly. I like it. I suppose it gets messy with overtime and shift trading, though?" He looked at the bulletin board and tore an inch or so off the bottom of a sheet. "Got a pen?"

  "I think in my bunk." Trey nudged his door open and went in, glad he'd already put the sheets on and hadn't left them in a heap. "Sometimes it can get confusing, but I guess I'm used to it after fifteen years. I was hired when I was twenty-three." His small foot locker at the end of the bed yielded a ballpoint pen, which he handed over.

  Nathaniel took the pen and scrawled on the slip of paper. "I suppose that after that long the job is just routine, huh? Here, this is the address and my cell. I'm there until... well, for the next while, anyway. But I'd love to see you tomorrow night." He offered the pen back, along with the paper.

  Trey took the number and studied it. Until now, he'd thought this was just a friendly offer. The guy wanted to say thanks; that had happened before, plenty of times. People brought stuff to the station or sent them cookies or whatever. But the majority of them didn't give out their phone numbers or say they'd love to see him.

  "All right, sure." Trey nodded and stuck the paper in his back pocket. "I'll give you a call tomorrow when I get off." He glanced up at Nathaniel and offered a smile.

  Nathaniel's smile grew. "I'd like that." He looked satisfied and a little amused, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit more. "I look forward to it. There's a nice place just down the block from where I'm staying."

  "Sounds good." Trey nodded. "So, this is my room. Everyone else's room looks the same. Most of them are messy--" he was cut off by the sound of two soft chimes and a pleasant, automated female voice.

  "Engine eleven, respond to service. Engine eleven."

  Trey made a face. "That's us. You're welcome to wait for me, but I don't know how long I'll be." He was already moving to the door and grinned when he saw Jim come stalking out of the showers, soaking wet and muttering to himself.

  "I think I'll just be on my way," Nathaniel said, snickering again. "And out of yours. But be careful, okay? I'd hate to have to drink your beer for you. Call me."

  "Thanks, you got it." Trey smiled once more and made his way back down the hall to the garage, Nathaniel's phone number safely in his pocket.

  Three

  Deuce checked his watch, checked his look, and checked his dog. All of his dogs, actually. All seven of them were resting up after a rousing hour of being cute, though Q looked to be the most tired of all of them.

  "There's a good girl." He reached down and gave her head a pat, smiling when she sighed and flopped down. Two puppies were already wiggling toward her, looking for milk. "Few weeks of this and then you'll get your life back. Be happy you're not human. I hear the babies stick around a lot longer."

  Q closed her eyes, apparently in resignation.

  "So, hopefully the nice fireman will come by and say hello to you," Deuce went on. "And then hopefully I'll buy him a drink or two, and hopefully a lovely friendship will be born."

  Q opened her eyes a little. Not much, but a little.

  "What? I'm not going to jump him, God." Q thought she knew him so well. "We need to stop sharing a room."

  Of course, there would have to be a phone call first. Trey had said he'd call when his shift ended, hadn't he? What time would that be? Nine? Ten? It was past eleven now.

  As if on cue, Deuce's cell rang.

  He tried really hard not to leap for it. He did hurry, though, to keep the ringing from waking up the dozy pup
pies, and he took the phone into the hall to answer it, closing the door behind him. "Hello?"

  "Nathaniel?" It was Trey, sounding unsure that he had the right number.

  "Yeah, hey." One of the puppies started to cry, and Deuce winced. "How are you?"

  "Tired. I'll recover. Find homes for those dogs yet?"

  "Only two. And one of those might be to me." Deuce rolled his eyes at himself. "But they're really young, you know? I'll start really hunting for homes when they're a bit bigger."

  "Sure, I guess so. How big do they have to be?"

  "Uh, I think eight weeks is the youngest, and ten to twelve is better." Deuce looked at the door to his borrowed room. "Seven dogs in one room is a little rough, to be honest."

  "Sounds like it would be." There was a pause. "Have you looked into finding somewhere slightly bigger until your place is ready? One of those extended-stay hotels, maybe? I don't know how pet-friendly they are, but even two rooms would be better than one small bedroom." Trey actually sounded pretty sympathetic to Deuce's plight.

  "I haven't yet, but it might be a really good idea. I don't think the reality of life with puppies hit me until they were here. Anyway. That's me; how're you, aside from tired? Got plans for the day or do I get to say thank you properly?"

  "My plans consist of a nap. But I'm free tonight, if that works."

  Deuce grinned to himself and nodded, then coached his inner voice not to be too loud, not to make him sound too eager. "It does. Good, I'm pleased." There. That was both true and calm. "Are you able to come here? The place I'd like to take you is within walking distance."

  "Yeah, no problem. You're not far, actually." Another pause, then Deuce could hear an audible yawn. "God, sorry. What time can you do? Seven or so?"

  "Seven would be great, yes. Go get some sleep; it sounds like you need it." Deuce had no idea how a body could manage shift work, but he admired that they did it. Firefighters were, after all, rather important in the middle of the night.

  "I'll be more entertaining tonight, I promise. See you at seven." The line went dead and then the only sound was the squeaking of the puppies through the door.

  "Okay, okay, I'm coming. And then I'm going out to buy five more newspapers." Deuce headed back in, wondering if he should hire a puppy-sitter for the night.

  ***

  By six fifty-five Deuce had showered, shaved, changed his shirt twice, and cleaned up the puppy area twice. He'd bathed one puppy and fed Q, and had taken her for a walk around the block, both of them sauntering in the relative quiet.

  "Now," he said, sitting on the floor and looking at seven dog faces, "I want you all to be very nice to the man who saved your lives. He's a hero, okay? And he's your godfather, and he's really hot. Be good for me. Hear?"

  Q's tail thumped, and Deuce took that as a solemn promise. "Good girl." He glanced at his watch. "I hope he's prompt. I hate waiting around when they're late." He always wondered if he was being stood up and that made him cranky. Promptness was a thing of value to Deuce and had been since he was in school. Someone had once accused him of being turned on by the bell, he moved so quickly for the ring.

  The minute hand had just eased past the twelve on his watch when the knock at the door came.

  Deuce wondered if it would be too forward to offer praise, or merely make him look like an arrogant schmuck. Deciding to err as far away from "schmuck" as he could, he held his tongue and just smiled as he opened the door. The dogs were speaking loudly on his behalf anyway, and he doubted he'd be able to top their greeting.

  "Hi," Trey said, then blinked and peered behind Deuce. "Holy crap. How many dogs are actually in there?"

  "Uh, one mom and six babies. I know it sounds like more." Deuce smiled ruefully. "Come on in. They'll settle down if we go and see them."

  "Okay, sure," Trey laughed. "Wow. You have your hands full." He came inside and closed the door behind him, shoving keys into his front pocket.

  "I do." Deuce nodded as he led the way to his borrowed room. "You'll note the lack of friend around? Poor guy has fled to his girlfriend's for a while. I guess I better work on finding a more workable crash pad." He put his hand on the door knob and grinned. "Ready? They're in one of those old fashioned playpens for babies, so they won't come rushing at us or anything."

  "Too bad. I've never been rushed by puppies, only people." Trey looked like he was steeling himself anyway, just in case the dogs had broken through their barrier or something.

  "Maybe when they're bigger and can leave their momma." Deuce opened the door wide and stepped in, pleased that no one had taken the two minutes he was away to relieve themselves. "Look who's here," he said to Q. "Your hero."

  Q lifted her head and offered a soft "woof", her tail thumping on the floor. Three puppies crawled over each other and tumbled around, trying to get to the side of the play pen.

  "Hi, pretty girl," Trey murmured to her. He crouched down and stroked her soft head. "You look tired."

  If a dog ever rolled her eyes in agreement that was what Q did. Her tail thumped again and she licked at Trey's wrist, but mostly she just relaxed and let her puppies get their milk -- the ones who weren't trying to get Trey's attention, anyway.

  Trey reached out to run a finger down one of the puppies' silky fur, then stopped. "Can I touch them? Is she possessive or anything? I don't want to upset her." Truth be told, Q just looked glad for the distraction of people, but Trey sounded unsure.

  "Go right ahead," Deuce encourage. "Watch the teeth, though -- they're sharp even if they are tiny." He had the sore finger to prove it, too.

  "I've got tough skin." He reached out and cradled one of the non-nursing puppies into his palm. The puppy looked even tinier in Trey's big hand. It snuffled around in there until it found the edge of Trey's pinky finger. The puppy closed its mouth and began to suckle on Trey's finger, seemingly unaware that it wasn't receiving any milk for its troubles. "Oh, hey," Trey marveled. "Look. Look at it."

  Deuce smiled and nodded. "I think they do it just because they can, you know? And they smell good, when they're clean." He wasn't sure how much he should be talking up the puppies, given that Trey had been clear about not having a life that allowed one. "Q doesn't seem to mind them, usually, but she's pretty happy when they're all asleep at the same time."

  Trey snorted. "I don't blame her. It's a lot of work." He gently detached the puppy and placed it back in the pile, then sat back on his heels and watched them for a minute. "It'd be nice if I could take one. Lacey would love it."

  Deuce tried not to grin too widely or to get his hopes up too high. "Well, you know. If Lacey spends most of her time at her mother's place, you wouldn't have to worry about the puppy or the house training."

  Trey gave a rueful smile and reached out again to touch a puppy's stubby tail. "Her mother is a bitch. If I take a puppy, it has to stay with me. Holly isn't the puppy type. She's more of a... goldfish in a bowl girl." He didn't sound pleased. "Tell you what. The lady who lives next door to me is a retired teacher and she's always outside in her garden, rain or shine. Maybe I can talk her into helping me with the puppy on the days I work."

  "Seriously?" Deuce heard his voice pitch higher and made an attempt to lower it down to an acceptable level. "Pick of the litter is all yours. You just let me know and you can have any puppy you want." It was one way for Deuce to say thank you to the man who'd saved Q's life. He had other ways he'd like to try, too, but since Trey had a kid and a wife -- even an ex-wife -- Deuce was sure he'd be keeping those thanks to himself.

  "Maybe." Trey nodded. "I still don't like the thought of leaving a dog alone for twenty-four hours, even when it's older. But maybe we can work something out. They sure are cute." He smiled at the ones who were starting to burrow down for their hundredth nap of the day. "Are you going to keep one?"

  "Me?" Deuce reached down and flipped Q's ear back and forth. "I don't know. Maybe, I guess. It depends on where I'm living and all that stuff. I'm assuming I'll
be back in the same building and that they won't change the pet rules, but they might."

  Q seemed to like the personal attention and put her head down on the blanket with a sigh. Trey played with her other ear, which Q really liked, if the thump of her tail was any indication. Trey looked as if he were pondering something important and was quiet for a bit. The only sound in the room was the snuffling of the puppies and Q's tail.

  "So," Trey finally said, "what about if you kept two puppies and one was mine? And you could look after it for me until it was old enough to be left alone for a few hours at my place." He paused, thinking some more, then said, "I'd pay for food and whatever. I don't know. Toys and stuff? A collar. Never had a dog, no idea what they need. Except a person."

  "For real?" Deuce thought about it for a few minutes, his hand still on Q. It would probably be good for her to have a couple of her babies around. And really, two puppies would be work, but they'd be a lot less work than six. They could share a crate when they moved out of their box with the rest of the litter, and Deuce figured that they'd play together and burn off some energy that way. They could chase each other at the dog park instead of balls.

  Deuce would see a lot of Trey. Trey'd have to stop by and see his puppy, and they could walk the dogs together. That wouldn't be a bad thing; Trey seemed like a nice enough man, and he was a hero. He was polite, too, and on time, and he had a gentle touch with the pups.

  "Let's go for a drink and work out the details," Deuce finally said. "We're going to be practically family, after all."

  Four

  Trey thought maybe the dogs shouldn't be left alone while they went out, but Nathaniel didn't seem too worried about it. Besides, Trey remembered, they'd had to have been alone when Nathaniel came to the station. And when he went to work. The man did work, right? Trey pondered that. Of course he worked. Nathaniel had said as much when he'd come to visit.