Just Four Words

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

A/N: So, it has been brought to my attention that in three days, October 16th, it marks one year to the day that I first began posting to Fanfiction! Yay Fanfiction!

I posted the first chapter to my first story, Te Amo Babe, Always, on October 16 2013. The story took me on an unforgettable journey that improved my writing, struck and stayed in my heart, and gave me a place, a home, in this world that I had no idea I could ever have. Here, I have met the most amazing people and become friends with people that I now, cannot imagine my life without. In lieu of this one-year anniversary of finding this world, I present you with this, a Babe story purely about love and friendship. I will be updating a chapter a day until it is finished, starting now and overlapping the actual date, and though they won't be long, they will lack no sincerity or intensity. This is my present to the Fanfiction world for not giving up on me this past year!

In the months it took me to finish my first story, some people changed my life, and each chapter will be dedicated to the amazing friends I have made that I now, can't fathom not knowing. The interaction I had with you changed me, and I intend to name as many as I can!

This is to the first friend I made in this world; to Margaret. You've stuck with me this long year and were my first friend and facet of encouragement. Rest assured this little piece will not deter me from updating the Aquila! This is for you, my friend!

Enjoy!

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Ranger

Was freedom tangible?

After being deprived of it long enough, could it become something of an entity, something powerful enough to occupy even an iota of matter, making it by a physical definition, a quantifiable thing? Could it make the transition from astral to palpable if it was so fiercely desired?

I thought so.

I sounded like a drunken professor who just got out of a bad marriage, I knew, but I couldn't help it. I felt so light and happy that under normal circumstances, I likely would have called on Father Mallory, a padre close to my parents, to check what measures I could take to ensure I wasn't possessed by something. Because badasses? We didn't do light and happy. This was ridiculous.

Even as I berated myself and mentally deducted Badass Points, I couldn't help the small grin that played with the corners of my mouth. I couldn't control it any more than I could control Babe in a pastry shop.

Stephanie.

The thought of her massacred any semblance of restraint I had left and I was certain my Abuela Rosa in Miami could see the smile stretching over my face. My babe had that effect on me like none other before her; it would figure that I would fall head over heels for the woman I normally would have pegged as ditzy and fickle.

I had, actually, thought those very same thoughts when I met her at the diner that afternoon, years ago. A flaky, cheerleader-type floozy thinking she could handle the game because she had watched too many James Bond flicks and decided she could do with a cheap thrill.

Boy, was I wrong.

To date, Stephanie still surprises me with her unpredictable behavior and witty mouth. She turned out to be more badass than I ever could have imagined, and what she lacked in skill, she more than made up for in bravery, determination and innovation. She had spunk in spades and always pushed herself back up with a tenacity that even I had to admire. She charmed her way into my men's hearts with her easy ad loving personality, and in the very same breath, commanded respect with her fiery attitude and unwillingness to be sidelined or molly-coddled as a result of mundane serial killers, or banal threats to her life, or an inkling of cumbersome fear. Stunning Hal had effectively put an end to anyone treating her differently because she was a woman, and unfortunately, also ensured that the men wouldn't dare to cross her in favor of me unless it was a life-threatening emergency. I appreciated that they had that level of respect for her, and proud of her for earning it, but it proved a pain in my ass when I tried to protect her.

She bamboozled my mind with her startlingly perfect balance of badass and independent, with feminine and vulnerable. At the very same time that I wanted to salute to her for a perfect heart-shot to a target, I also wanted to gather her in my arms while she cried for choosing her life over the life of someone pointing a gun at her. She made me laugh with her vehement and creative reasons as to why she should never be a mother, yet she touched a part in me I long thought dead when she hugged Julie and invited her to a girl's sleepover night, or when she helped her nieces with homework and encouraged them to fly like no one really did for her.

She was an enigma to me, yet at the same time, so totally familiar to me. She was my best friend. She was my rock, even when I wrongfully thought I no longer needed one. She was the driving force between the light in me that was struggling to burst through from the murky depths of darkness it was submerged in for so long.

She was also the reason, naturally, that I couldn't stop smiling.

After so many years of my life that wasn't my own, I was free to live my life now. If you had asked me ten years ago, I'd have said to you that freedom was an overrated concept, or an illusion that people needed to believe in. I'd have told you that freedom was not in the cards for me.

Now?

Now I sat in my Cayenne, driving to a hall in Newark, contemplating whether my freedom had, with the sheer force of my wanting it, become a corporeal entity.

And I hadn't realized how much I wanted it, until I was faced with her.

And so, four simply uttered words changed my life forever.

"Your contract is terminated."

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