********************

We've been together since way back when
Sometimes I never want to see you again
But I want you to know, after all these years
You're still the one I want whisperin' in my ear

You're still the one -- I want to talk to in bed
Still the one -- that turns my head
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one -- that makes me laugh
Still the one -- that's my better half
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one -- that makes me strong
Still the one -- I want to take along
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Changing, our love is going gold
Even though we grow old, it grows new

Orleans

********************

Johnny put his water glass down and looked over at Roy, relishing the way the soft light from the candles on their table played across his face. They were here in this restaurant tonight to celebrate a very special occasion, twenty-five years as life partners. He watched as Roy motioned to a young waiter who took his order for a bottle of champagne and smiled. Even though Roy had changed a lot physically over the years, inside he was still so much the same Roy he'd been when he and Johnny first met, nearly 30 years ago.

Thirty years . . . John still sometimes had trouble believing that it could have been so long. Thirty years in which so much had happened, beginning in 1971 with their first meeting.

Roy convincing Johnny to go through paramedic training, even though at the time neither was sure if they would ever be allowed to use their knowledge. Becoming Roy's partner. Nine years of working side by side as the top paramedic team in LA County. Watching Roy's marriage fall apart because his wife could not handle being married to a man with such a perilous job. Being there to comfort him in the aftermath of that breakup, and finally, fulfilling every faint hope he'd ever held, becoming Roy's lover as well as his partner.

Sometimes it seemed to Johnny as if everything he had been, everything he had done since he was 25 years old had his love for Roy as its most basic component.

Then as the 70s drew to a close things began to change for them, as they invariably will. Here in the present Johnny and Roy were still lovers, but their work partnership ended in 1980 when Roy was promoted to Captain. He hadn't wanted to take the promotion at first, but Johnny insisted. He could not stand by and let Roy pass up another opportunity because of him. Roy reluctantly took the promotion and became Station 51's B shift commander, replacing Captain Hookraider, who finally, much to the relief of all who had to work under him, retired for good. No one but Roy was really surprised when he quickly proved himself one of the county's best captains. He was a natural for the job; levelheaded, competent and calm and decisive in the face of every imaginable crisis.

Johnny stayed on A shift at 51 with a new partner, but he missed Roy terribly. Since they now worked different shifts, they almost never saw each other. So Johnny did something he really never expected he would do . . . he started studying. And five months after Roy got his promotion, Johnny got one too. He passed the engineer's test and with Captain Stanley's blessings, glowing recommendation and good wishes, became B shift's engineer. And after nearly twenty years, that's where they remained.

Things changed for them on a personal level as well. For a very long time their relationship was the most open "secret" in the LA County Fire Department. Then came 1986, a year that both Roy and Johnny unconsciously began to think of as the watershed year. A young openly gay man applied to the department and was summarily turned down. He came to Roy and explained his situation, and after a careful check of the young man's background and qualifications, Roy was forced to conclude that he had been rejected solely because of his sexual orientation. After quite a lot of soul searching and late night talks which sometimes escalated into heated "discussions", Roy and Johnny finally admitted to themselves and each other that they had to come out. Which they did, much to the displeasure of the powers that be in the LACoFD.

There began a three-year battle for equal rights for gay recruits. These two private men, who hoped to live and do their jobs, retire and die without drawing undue attention to their situation became the most unlikely of political activists.

Together they were founding members of the Golden State Peace Officers Association, an organization dedicated to providing peer support to police officers and firefighters in California. They lobbied hard for one of the main objectives of this organization to be recruitment programs within the gay and lesbian community. Later on they were instrumental in organizing the very first International Conference of Gay and Lesbian Criminal Justice Professionals, dedicated to enhancing understanding of and skills in dealing with the issues of gays and lesbians in the public safety work environment.

Thirteen years after the battle began, Johnny and Roy were proud that the department now not only accepted gay applicants, it actively recruited them. To many in the LA gay community, especially in the police and fire departments, John Gage and Roy DeSoto were icons and heroes. To others in the public works community they were traitors and perverts and troublemakers, but they could live with that.

Roy looked up and caught Johnny's eye, pulling him from his reminiscences. Roy gave him a broad smile, and Johnny felt his heart miss a beat. Roy was still so handsome that just looking at him made Johnny feel a little breathless. Johnny had been there for every single transformation Roy had been though, and had loved him more after each one. Roy had started to go gray long before he was out of his 30's and now his hair was the purest white, untainted by the icky yellowish cast some blonds developed as they grayed. It fascinated John that every single hair on Roy's body (and there were many!) was now white. His eyelashes, eyebrows, chest hair and even his beard, obvious on the rare occasions when Roy neglected to shave for a day or so.

Every year around Christmastime Johnny teased Roy by encouraging him to let the beard grow and get a job as a department store Santa. Every year Roy took the teasing with just a bit less of his trademark good humor.

Roy had had a few struggles with his weight as well. Turning 35 and getting the promotion to Captain, which required less physical activity from him than his job as a paramedic, conspired against him. He was just vain enough to fuss and fret over his expanding waistline, but not quite vain enough to seriously do anything about it. Johnny never cared one way or another. He knew Roy loved to eat and anything that made Roy happy made John happy.

Then when he was 46, Roy had a mild heart attack. It wasn't life threatening, but it was enough to scare the beejesus out of both of them. Johnny bought the American Heart Association cookbook and discovered that when his cooking meant the difference between Roy's good health and another attack, he actually enjoyed what he used to consider a chore. Johnny did all the cooking for the couple, and was very good at it. And now while Roy wasn't quite as trim as he'd been as a younger man, he wasn't fat either.

Johnny himself hadn't changed nearly as much, at least outwardly. He was as slender as ever, and his hair was still thick, although he wore it much shorter now, and it was shot through with silver threads. There were crowsfeet around his eyes and abundant smile lines around his mouth, but he was still heartstoppingly handsome.

The waiter finally arrived with the wine and both men sat in silence while he poured it. When he was gone, Johnny lifted his glass.

"A toast?"

Roy lifted his own glass and smiled. "To the department, for being so good to us."

"To good friends," John said, and they both reflected, thinking of friends past and present, of beloved friends now gone.

"To us."

"To us," John said, and smiled that same crooked smile that Roy knew so well, that could still stir him to his core. They touched glasses and drank, though their eyes never left one another's faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So how do you want to end this night, Lover? Wanna go close down the clubs? Drink tequila shooters and dance on the bar? "

Roy laughed. "Maybe another night. How about we just go home?" Johnny took his eyes off the road long enough to leer playfully at Roy. "NOW you're talking! Home it is."

Johnny made sure Roy was the first one inside when they got home. John closed the front door and Roy reached for the light switch, but before he could touch it the lights blazed on.

"Surprise!"

Revealed by the sudden illumination in the room was a large crowd of people, consisting of seemingly everyone Roy and John had ever known. A small girl broke loose of the pack and ran to Roy.

"Poppy!"

Roy reached down and swung the little girl into his arms. "Hello, punkin." He hugged her close and kissed her cheek.

"Me and Mommy and Uncle Chris and all your friends came to wish you and Uncle Johnny a happy Aunt Versary. Poppy, who's Aunt Versary?"

Roy laughed and hugged his four-year-old granddaughter again. "I'll tell you later, okay Punkin?" The little girl smiled and stuck one finger into her mouth.

From her bright blue eyes to her fair freckled skin to the strawberry blonde hair that cascaded down her back to her waist in a tangle of ringlets, she was the picture of her grandfather.

"Hi, Dad," Roy's daughter Brandy stood smiling up at her father.

"Hello sweetheart. I can't believe you all did this." He turned to glare at Johnny, standing behind him grinning like an idiot. When he saw Roy looking, he quickly adopted a very unconvincing innocent look. "How long have you all been planning this?"

"Just a few weeks, Dad. You didn't really think your loved ones could let such an important occasion slip by, did you?"

"Well, I was hoping. . ." Roy grinned. "I'm glad to see you, baby. You look beautiful." That much was certainly true. Brandy had grown from a skinny, freckled little girl into a lovely, graceful and brilliant woman. She was a product development engineer for a software company in the valley, a wife, and mother of four year old Mallory.

Mallory gently patted both Roy's cheeks with her little hands to get his attention. "Poppy, put me down, please," she said primly. "I have to go tee tee."

Roy hastily put the child back down. Brandy laughed heartily. "Nature calls, Dad. We'll be right back."

"Hello, Pop. How are you?"

"Chris! I'm fine." Roy grabbed his son's outstretched hand and shook it, then pulled him into a fierce bear hug. "How are you? How did you get here?"

"Well, being a Major does have its advantages, dad," Chris laughed. "I just told them I needed to go home for a very important family occasion."

Roy's eyes burned. His son stood before him, smiling slightly. Chris had grown into a fine man, tall and handsome like his father, his sandy hair cropped close to meet military standards. He'd joined the Air Force immediately after high school and had quickly advanced in the ranks. He served with meritorious distinction in the Gulf War and had recently been promoted yet again, to Major. At 32, he was now a flight instructor. 'Teaching beach bums to be top guns' as Chris described his job.

Roy couldn't have been more proud at the way his children turned out. He was grateful that neither of them had felt compelled to follow his example and become firefighters. Instinctively Roy knew that being an Air Force fighter pilot was hardly safer than being a fireman, but he was still grateful that neither of his children battled flames for a living.

Chris turned his attention from Roy to the man who stood behind him. "Hello, Uncle Johnny. How are you doing?"

John moved past Roy to embrace his partner's son. "I'm fine, Chris. You look good, son. How's Cathy?"

"She's fine. She wanted so much to be here tonight, but the doctor told her to stay home. She's due in a week, and the doctor doesn't want her flying, obviously."

Roy frowned. "Maybe you shouldn't have left her, son. What if she goes into labor while you're gone?"

"Then mom and Cat's mom will take her to the hospital and call me. It's okay, dad. She just saw the doctor this morning and she said Cat's got a least a week left. Don't worry, okay?"

"All right, Chris. I just don't want my only son's first child born without his father in attendance."

Chris squeezed Roy's shoulder reassuringly. "You worry too much, Dad. Has anyone told you that lately?"

Before Roy could answer, Johnny jumped in. "Only a couple dozen times a day. For all the good it does."

Roy turned to him, but before he could retort, a very familiar voice stopped him. "How's it going, Pal?"

"Hank! I can't believe you're here!" Roy grabbed his old friend and former boss's hand and shook it vigorously. "You came down all the way from Minnesota for this?"

"You bet, Pal. Wouldn't have missed it for the world. I couldn't let the two best paramedics I ever worked with celebrate such a milestone without me being here."

One by one, all the people who had made up Roy and John's world since the 1970s came forward to greet them. Cap and his wife Deborah. They were there from their farm outside Minneapolis, where Cap had retired nearly ten years ago after being partially disabled in a fire. He wrote books for a living now. Mike Stoker and his wife, Mary. Mike, like Roy, had been promoted to Captain as the 70's drew to a close and was still in charge of Station 29.

Chet and his girlfriend Chan. Chet had left the department in the mid 90s to start his own business, a chain of novelty/magic stores. Marco and his wife Valerie. Marco owned a restaurant in LA now. Kelly Brackett and Dixie were there together. They finally married in the early 80s, and adopted three older children, siblings who had been in foster care for years. Dr. Morton was there too, with his wife Rachel. Dr. Morton was now a top neurosurgeon at Rampart. Rachel was a pediatric oncologist.

The only person missing was Dr. Early. That fine man had finally succumbed to heart disease only five months before, at the ripe old age of 80. They all remembered him with a moment of silence before toasting his memory with lots of champagne, raucous laughs and dirty jokes. They all knew that this was how he would have wanted to be remembered.

The party lasted far into the night. Brandy was the first to leave, after little Mallory fell asleep curled up across her Uncle Johnny's lap, placidly sucking her thumb. Roy walked Brandy to her car.

"Thank you for coming, angel. You don't know how much it meant to me."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, Dad." Brandy paused. "You know, I was so little when you and Mom broke up. I don't really remember much about the two of you being together. But one thing I do know is that I never felt for a moment growing up that the two of you didn't love me." She stood on tiptoe and kissed her father's cheek. "I love you, Daddy. Give Uncle Johnny a kiss for us, okay? Mal and I will come back by again before we leave town. We'd like to take you guys to lunch."

"It's a date, baby. Be careful, okay?"

Roy watched his daughter buckle his beloved grandchild into her car seat, and with one last wave, they were gone.

One by one, the other guests left. Chris was among the last. "I've got to be going, Dad. I'm flying back to Langley first thing in the morning. Don't want to be gone from Cat too long."

"I understand, Chris. Now you be sure and call if there's anything you or Cathy need, you hear me? Anything at all. And be sure and give us a ring as soon as my daughter-in-law goes into labor! I'll have to know whether to buy cigars with pink or blue ribbons on them for the men at the station."

Chris laughed. "That's so un-PC, Dad. Don't you know you shouldn't encourage the consumption of tobacco?" Chris glanced at Johnny and winked. "Maybe you could take them some of Uncle Johnny's low fat spice cake instead."

"I just might do that." Roy pulled his son to him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you for being here, son. It means so much."

"I had to be here, Dad. Once Uncle Johnny called me and told me what he had in mind, well, wild horses couldn't have kept me away. You guys deserve some acknowledgement for what you've accomplished. You've been together for longer than most marriages last, and you were trailblazers in the LA fire department, in quite a few more ways than one!" Chris grinned, then sobered. "But mostly, I'm here cause you're my dad, and Uncle Johnny's my Uncle Johnny, and I love you guys. Where else would I be?"

When the last guest was gone, Johnny closed the door and turned to face his lover.

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? Why on earth would I be mad?"

"For doing this without you knowing. For bringing everyone here tonight. I thought about it for months before I started planning, you know. I couldn't decide if it would be the right thing to do. I mean, I thought you might want us to spend this particular day alone."

Roy moved to Johnny and put his arms around him. "I'm not mad, Johnny. I was just surprised." Roy grinned suddenly. "But then that was the intention, wasn't it? I'm glad you did this. It was wonderful seeing all the guys again. They all seem so happy with their lives. And don't they look great?"

"Yeah, they do. And Dixie's still pretty hot, isn't she?" Johnny waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

"Should I be jealous?" Roy asked teasingly.

Johnny sobered. "Never, lover. Never, ever." He raised his face and captured Roy's mouth in a tender kiss, moving his hands over his lover's broad back, then down to clutch his ass. Roy answered by pushing against him, rubbing his groin sensuously against Johnny's, pulling a deep moan from John's throat. Roy pushed his hands underneath Johnny's sweater, running his palms up his chest and over his nipples, teasing them to hard peaks. His hot mouth moved over Johnny's neck, kissing and licking and sucking before finally his teeth closed gently over the pounding pulse point in Johnny's vulnerable throat. Johnny felt as if his skin had been peeled off, leaving him a quivering mass of bare nerve endings.

"Let's go to bed, Roy," he panted. "I think we're too old to fuck on the floor."

"Never say too old, Pally. We're never too old." Nevertheless, Roy led John to the bedroom.

In bed, the loving continued. Roy rolled them over so that he lay atop his partner, his strong hands sweeping endlessly over his body, teasing his nipples, tickling his ribs, burying themselves in John's impossibly thick hair.

Johnny opened his eyes and gazed up. He found himself staring into Roy's bright blue eyes, which stared right back at him.

Johnny felt Roy's hands gently urging his thighs apart, and then Roy's mouth was covering him, lips and tongue working at him with skill and artistry born of long years of practice. The intimacy they shared was born of decades spent together, their passion sweetened by the passage of time, passion undeniably less intense than when they were new but no less satisfying.

John loss himself in sensation, of the mouth working him, the cottony soft hair tickling his groin, the strong hard hands cupping his ass. His fingers wound into the sheets, pulling and clutching at them convulsively as the fire searing his being finally centered at the base of his spine and he exploded in Roy's throat with a loud groan.

He was scarcely aware of Roy moving up his body, kissing his belly, his chest, his neck as he moved John's legs further apart, lifting them. Roy's mouth closed over his, and he could taste himself there, lingering on his lover's tongue. He felt strong hands at his waist, pulling him forward, felt as his relaxed opening yielded to insistent pressure, felt himself filled, felt himself instinctively raise his legs and wrap them tightly around the body above him.

Then came the urgent movements against him, into him, and he wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders of the man above him, buried his face into the sweat slicked skin of Roy's throat, feeling the pulse racing there, and went along for the ride. Roy arched against him, groaning continuously now, before throwing his head back and uttering a fierce shout/growl. Johnny felt the rhythmic movement inside him and clenched his muscles, wringing another helpless groan from his lover. Then Roy collapsed, fell against Johnny's chest, and wrapped his arms around him. Johnny let his legs fall to his sides and they lay there, practically fused together. Johnny buried his nose in Roy's hair, inhaling deeply, comforted as always by the familiar scent, taste, feel of this man. He shivered a little, suddenly. Roy pulled back to look into his face.

"What's wrong," he whispered.

"Nothing. I was just thinking, wondering why you've never gotten tired of me."

Roy laughed in amazement. "You're kidding, right? John Gage, the most unpredictable man in the world, wondering something like that. How could I get tired of you, Johnny? You're more fun than a barrel of monkeys, and just as untidy."

"Hey! I've gotten better."

At Roy's skeptical look, John backtracked. "Okay, maybe I haven't gotten that much better. I leave wet towels on the floor and squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle." He sighed dramatically. "I guess I'm a lost cause." Roy just looked at him, then smiled. "I think I'm the lost cause, Johnnyboy. Was from the first time I laid eyes on you. Just took me a little while to realize it."

"Took a bit of convincing, you did."

"But aren't you glad you took the trouble?"

Johnny pulled Roy to him with a sudden, serious fierceness. "More glad than you'll ever know." He claimed Roy's mouth again, this time with tenderness, nibbling softly at his lips, sated and satisfied and so happy he feared to examine the emotion too closely.

"Happy anniversary, Roy."

The End

Copyright 1999 - 2003, The Fairy Queen. All rights reserved.