This is in response to a personal challenge, someone said I could only write Cupcake fluff, not Babe fluff. So here it is. I hope you like it and would appreciate your reviews…
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, they're not mine. I might keep Ranger for a bit, just to make sure he's fine, but in the end, he always goes back to JE
In the Still of the Night
He stood in the second floor hallway, listening. It was late at night (or early in the morning, depending on one's point of view), but he knew her neighbors. She was the youngest person on the entire floor; the seniors around her might wake up early. It was three AM, but one never knew.
He'd never cared in the past, it was just suddenly important to him that no one saw or heard him.
When there was no noise from anywhere, he took out his tool and picked the front door lock.
He's known her for so long; she would gladly give him a key to her apartment. For that matter, he could have a copy of her key made in no time. But where was the fun in that?
It was much more of a challenge to pick the locks without waking her, to even get the security chain out of the way without making a sound.
He smiled as he stood in her foyer, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
There was the soft sound of the hamster wheel turning, Rex working out as usual.
He walked into her bedroom.
Ranger had given up trying to find out why he needed to be here with her.
Every other night, he woke up restless, unable to fall back asleep.
On those nights, he got dressed and drove over, entered her apartment and watched her. He was always gone before she woke up, and he didn't know the reason for that either.
Sitting in a chair opposite her bed, he just sat watching her chest rise and fall. Peace settled over him.
It was a good night.
On bad nights, his own voice haunted him, replaying his words over and over.
'My life doesn't lend itself to relationships', 'Mine is the kind of love that comes with a condom, not a ring', 'I love you in my own way'.
He was unable to explain why he wasn't able to just tell her how he felt.
And every time he thought about that, he was reminded of Helen of Troy. The story had never made much sense to him until he met Stephanie. Now he had no problem believing a woman can be the reason to launch 1000 ships. He'd do that and more for her.
He'd do everything, it seemed, except tell her how he really felt.
He sighed exasperated.
Women had never been a problem. If he got right down to it, he'd never been in love. There'd been sex, and plenty of it, but never emotions.
He wasn't vain, but he knew women liked him. He'd never had a problem filling his bed.
And now, with one look from her cornflower blue eyes, that didn't matter anymore.
He only wanted her.
He wanted her in his bed, yes, but so much more. He wanted her in his life.
That thought had taken a while to get used to, but now he couldn't imagine ever not getting it: He needed her.
Stephanie stirred in her sleep.
She was dreaming.
He always felt intrusive when he witnessed her dreaming, as if he was peeking in on her personal life, on a part that should stay private.
But he reasoned if things were as they should be, he'd be in her bed every night and would watch her sleep and dream.
Sometimes he wondered how she would react if she woke up and found him sitting in her bedroom.
He knew she wouldn't be mad, but maybe confused?
He'd done that to her, he'd confused her.
That one night, that one fatal night, he'd had the power, and he could have made her his.
But he didn't.
Thinking she needed to be protected from him, he'd sent her back into Morelli's arms.
What really happened was so much less noble, and it took a while to admit that to himself. It had scared him how much she owned of him. And if it was so clear to him, it would be to his enemies as well. He'd be vulnerable because of her.
Ranger snorted. Now he'd done it again. He'd ruined this perfect vision of her by thinking. He felt like slapping himself.
She moaned in her sleep now.
Either a very bad or a very good dream, he figured. The response his body gave to the thought didn't surprise him anymore.
He wanted her, wanted to be with her, wanted to be in her. He wanted her body, mind and soul.
He just couldn't say it out loud.
Now she was squirming and her face was contorted.
A bad dream, then.
He could hardly stand to watch her in pain, even if it was just in a dream.
He never wanted anything or anyone to hurt her, ever again.
He contemplated leaving her when she started crying in her sleep.
That was it, he couldn't take anymore. He drew the line at crying.
In two steps, he was at her bed, in a flash, he was beside her, holding her.
"Shhhh, it's okay, Babe. Just a dream, shhhh."
She didn't wake up, but calmed down immediately. She pushed back into him as her body relaxed once again.
He wound his arm around her sighed contently.
This was stolen time, but he'd take it.
Maybe enough of it would finally push him to face her, tell her how he felt.
Only this time, he stayed too long. He was telling himself he just needed to look at her smiling face for another minute, and then he'd fallen asleep.
And he'd slept better than in months. Better than any night after he'd left her apartment because he didn't have to hide from the cops or Scrog anymore. He'd slept well, like he only slept when she was in his arms.
"Ranger?"
Her sleepy voice woke him.
He was still wrapped around her, a firm grip on her waist.
"Yeah, babe?" He whispered close to her ear. She shivered and he was glad he was close enough to feel her reaction to him.
"Good morning." He added, tightening his grip.
She didn't resist, she just melted into him.
He stifled a moan as the feeling of having her right where he wanted her washed over him.
No 'What are you doing here?', no 'Get out of my bedroom!'. She was just enjoying his presence.
Life was good.
And if his life ended now, he'd be content.
He'd never need more than to wake up with her in his arms.
R&R please…