Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Marissa Carter is my own fictional character.
This is neither a Babe or Cupcake story.
Unexpected
Ranger watched her; torn between relief that she was alive and anger that he hadn't been there to help her. Just like the Slayer incident with Steph…but this time he didn't feel like throwing up.
He watched as she argued with the nurse who was swabbing the cuts on the backs of her hands. She rolled her eyes when the nurse said something to her, and let out a heavy sigh. He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and made his way to her. She looked up and scanned the room nervously before she spotted him weaving through the crowd towards her.
Her eyes widen fractionally. Christ! Why was he here? She knew Tank would've called him, but she didn't expect that he would actually drive all the way down there. Trenton was a long way from Manhattan. She also knew it was useless to worry about his motives. When it came to Carlos it was best to go with the flow.
"Are you my ride?" she asked as she adjusted the paper gown hanging on her body like a sheet with arm holes.
"Ride?" Ranger asked. "You got authorization to leave?"
"I don't need anyone's authorization. I'm fine. Carlos…please." There was a hint of panic in her voice. She seemed on edge and an expected rush of sympathy for her rose up sharply in him.
The nurse finished up with her cuts and started to bandage her hand.
"I'm not taking you anywhere until I've talk to your doctor." he said.
"For what? He'll tell you exactly what I'm telling you. I'm fine." Marissa grounded out. "My x-rays show no broken bones or fractures, and my blood work came back clean. I don't know why everyone is making a big deal out of this."
"You got into a fight with a suspect. He threw you against a wall and kicked you in the stomach, that's a big deal."
Tank had been vague on the details when he had called him, and Ranger had been more interested in getting to the hospital than asking questions at that point.
Marissa shrugged. "I'm still not staying here. I need to get back to the office and take care of some things."
Ranger thought he had self-destructive tendencies, but it seemed he had nothing on her. He wanted to smash his fist through something; preferably the man who did this to her. He also wanted to shake some sense into her for being so damn nonchalant about her well-being. She turned her face to look at her bandaged hand, and he sucked in a breath at the angry red bruise running across her cheekbone.
"I think it's better if you stay here for the night." he said knowing fully well his words were falling on deaf ears. The last few hours had been hellish and exhausting, and as he drove from his Hayward office to Bellevue Hospital, just over the speed limit, he discovered new depths to his self-loathing.
He was supposed to be there with her. But Stephanie had needed him to help track down a skip that had the mental tendencies of The Joker, so he had sent Tank in his place. It was supposed to be a routine takedown, but somewhere between the flashbang and agency identification all hell had broken loose.
Her partner Bryan and Tank had filled him in on the details as they waited in the hall way for the doctor to finish his examination of her. They told him Marissa had been covering the backdoor when the suspect had leapt out an upper back bedroom window. She had yelled out her warning for him to freeze and identified herself, but he wasn't trying to hear that. Instead he took off over a neighbor's fence prompting Marissa to give chase. She had radioed in for backup, but by the time they had gotten there she and the suspect were in an all out brawl; with his 190lbs slamming into her 140lb. frame, and his size 11 cross-trainers connecting with her stomach. Ranger was not surprised when Tank had informed him that the suspect was being treated for a broken rib and head abrasions a few rooms down from Marissa's. Ranger had given him a questioning look, but Tank had just shrugged and said "Consequences of the takedown. All justifiable according to all the officers that were involved."
The Blue Wall of Silence was in full effect.
"I don't need to spend the night. I just want to get out of here." She swung her legs impatiently; her eyes were pleading. Someone else was going to have to tell her no. Where the hell was everyone else?
"Where's your partner?" he asked.
"Probably upstairs talking to the Special Agent in Charge. Waiting for me to be admitted for observation." Her lips curved up in a tiny smile. Ranger couldn't believe she could joke at a time like this.
"You win. Where are your clothes?" he asked.
The nurse glared at Ranger, but went to get the release forms. Tank walked into the room and handed Ranger a white object about the size and shape of a credit card. Even injured, Marissa didn't miss the exchange.
"What's that?" She nodded at the card.
"It's nothing." Ranger said and slipped the card back into his wallet.
She looked suspiciously at both men. "Are we going to play twenty questions here before I get a straight answer?"
Tank and Ranger looked at each other. Ranger spoke first. "It's an insurance card."
"Whose?"
"RangeMan's." Tank answered.
Her brow furrowed. "Whose name is on it?"
Silence from both men.
"Whose name is on it?" she repeated, her voice flat.
"Yours." Ranger answered.
He watched her struggle with her thoughts. Trying to analyze and understand. But the repercussions of what happened to her a few hours ago, and her mounting exhausting took away all coherent thought.
"I have an insurance card with RangeMan? Why?" Her eyes were glassy and unfocused.
"Like I said, it's nothing. Just makes things easier in a critical situation as Tank and I are your emergency contacts."
"When was I supposed to find out about this?"
He let out a sigh. "You weren't supposed to."
"Uh huh."
Tank looked uncomfortable. He knew how independent she was, and hated to be taken care of, but he and Ranger had made the decision to include her when they renewed RangeMan's health insurance policy a few years ago. It seemed logical at the time as they worked closely on the same cases, and on some occasions they were shoulder to shoulder during takedowns. Dangerous situations like that often warranted immediate medical attention if things went awry.
"We wanted you to have the best care." Tank stated.
She glared at him. "I have the best care. It's called the Federal Employees Health Benefits Program. It's what I pay fifty-five dollars out of my paycheck every month for."
"Mari..." Ranger started.
"No! I'm highly irritated by the fact that you guys would keep something like this from me. It's rude and highly unprofessional."
Tank looked at Ranger. "Did she just call us unprofessional?"
"Rude too." Ranger supplied as he nodded his head. "Seems like she's calling us out."
Marissa knew they were teasing her, but she still couldn't help the spike in her blood pressure. She narrowed her eyes. "Just so you two know, when I get back up to par I'm going to seek my revenge."
Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening us?"
She squared her shoulders. "Scared?"
"Like we're gonna believe a pipsqueak like you." Tank said with a laugh and walked out the room.
The nurse came back in with the forms, and Ranger watched as Marissa struggled to sign the endless sheets of paperwork. Her bandaged hand made her mobility almost impossible. He wanted to take the pen and sign for her, but the nurse was glaring at him. It finally dawned on Ranger that she had cast him as the abusive boyfriend; Marissa's bruises and cuts reinforcing the idea. So he sat in the chair next to the bed and tried to be patient and not cause any trouble.
When Marissa went to change back into her street clothes, he left the room in search of Tank. He found him down the hall talking to a group of officers.
"How's she holding up?" Tank asked as they separated themselves from the crowd.
Ranger's lips tightened. "Being pig-headed as usual."
"She gave us quite a scare when we rolled up on her being stomped by Melendez. Of course, after we pulled him off her she still wanted to rip his eyeballs out. We didn't know how badly she was hurt until she collapsed as we were walking back to the car."
Ranger let out a frustrated sigh. "Her pride is going to get her killed one day."
Tank laughed. A humorless sound. "This coming from the man who walked into a situation knowing he was going to be shot."
Ranger shot him a look. "I did it to save Steph and Julie."
"How were you going to save them? By bleeding all over Scrog? Julie was the one who saved you."
A dark look passed over Ranger's face.
"Look man, all I'm saying is that Marissa was doing what she had to do. It sucked that she got roughed up in the process, but she's not some helpless female here. This is what she's trained and prepared for, so don't be too hard on her. "
Ranger rubbed his forehead in a frustrated gesture. He knew Tank was right, but he still couldn't shake the knot of agitation sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.
"I thought you would be used to situations like these by now, with all the situations Bomber has gotten herself mixed up in over the years." Tank said as he slapped him on the back.
Ranger scowled at him. "Yeah, it's like a walk in the fucking park by now."
Tank huffed out a sigh and shook his head. "Don't make me regret calling you RangeMan. She doesn't need a hard time right now. Are you going to drive her home, or should I?"
"I'll do it."
""I'm heading back to the hotel. Are you staying or leaving right after?"
"Staying. I have a few meetings tomorrow, but they don't start until early afternoon. I should have enough time to get back."
Tank nodded and left.
He walked back to Marissa's room to see if she was ready. She was waiting for him looking pale and weary. A nurse was readjusting her bandage, and Ranger wondered briefly if Marissa knew just how important she was to him. Finally, with a handful of prescriptions and detailed instructions on caring for her wounds they were on their way. As he helped her into his Mercedes he was unprepared when she flinched away.
"Marissa?"
She didn't answer him, but gingerly sank into the passenger seat and closed the door using her uninjured hand. It was a struggle for him to not raise his voice and demand to know why she had to do everything herself.
She fell asleep on the drive to her townhouse. Ranger killed the engine and came around to her side. He wondered if he could get away with carrying her inside, but he knew the chance for physical harm was high if she woke up disoriented and tried to kill him. He hated to wake her up though, but he was freezing his ass off in the frigid New York winter weather; his leather jacket doing nothing to shield him from the artic bite in the air.
"Wake up Mari. We're home." He grimaced slightly at the slip in his words, and was glad she was still asleep. He brushed his fingers along her cheek and her eyes fluttered open.
"Where are we?" she asked as she forced the sleep out of her eyes and looked around.
Recognition dawned on her and she unbuckled her seatbelt.
He held his hand out to her. "Come on. Let's get you inside."
He was relieved she didn't protest when he took her keys as she fumbled with the lock. He watched her closely when she swayed a little as she walked through the room.
"Go take a hot shower." he advised. He rattled the bottles of pills. "Where do you want these?"
"Kitchen."
He listened to the sounds of her starting the shower, and decided to rummage around in her kitchen cabinets with the intent of making her something to eat. He found a can of chicken noodle soup and a pack of unopened crackers. He opened a few more cupboards and found a small sauce pan and a porcelain bowl.
He heard her come out of the bathroom and shuffled her way into her bedroom. Taking the bowl of soup and crackers, he headed to where she had disappeared. She was facing him when he entered the room, and she got her shirt tugged down a second too late.
"Fuck." he breathed savagely.
"Don't start." she sighed.
He put the soup and crackers down on her nightstand and moved toward her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she froze. He whispered her name; his voice sounding alien and strangled to his ears. She couldn't meet his eyes. Didn't want to. The messages they projected in their too-long stares were clear even if she wasn't willing to deal with them. He sensed her uneasiness and tried to lighten the mood.
He smiled as he took in her pajamas.
"Hannah Montana?"
She was embarrassed. "They were on sale."
He chuckled. She looked young enough to be a fan. Her hair was pulled up in messy ponytail and her face was scrubbed clean of any traces of make-up. Her almond-eyes looked at him with trust and acceptance buried within their depth, and he fought the urge to lower his head and lose himself in her.
"And how do you know about Hannah Montana anyway?" she asked breaking into his thoughts.
"Julie's a fan. Her room is filled up with that stuff. Plus, she made me take her to a concert last summer."
Her eyes widened then sparkled with delight.
"Are you telling me the big badass known as Carlos Manoso went to a Hannah Montana concert?" She was clearly amused and grinning at him.
"I'm telling you nothing on account of I like you being alive."
She burst out laughing then, but her joy was short lived. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Her hand flew to her stomach.
"Let me see." he said as his fingers brushed down her sides to the hem of her shirt. Her breathing became fast and shallow, but she nodded in consent.
He lifted the shirt slowly, trying not to touch her skin because he didn't trust himself around her. He took a step back to get a better view and his mind stalled as he tried to evaluate the extent of the damage done to her.
A red and purple stain, about four inches in width, and long and oval in shape spread across her stomach like a plague on her skin.
"Mari...?" His voice shook. He couldn't finish the question. But she heard it anyway.
"It looks worse than it feels." she said as she hastily pulled her pajama top back down. She didn't want to see the pity or worry in his eyes. She didn't want to seem weak and needy. That was not who she was with him. She focused her attention on the food he brought her.
"I didn't know I had anything edible. I haven't been grocery shopping in weeks." she said as she moved past him and sat on the bed.
Ranger knew she was avoiding talking about the incident, and in a strange way he wanted to avoid it too. He was tired of feeling helpless and annoyed with himself. He sat on the bed next to her and focused on the grinning Miley Cyrus splayed across her chest.
Marissa sipped on her soup, grateful that she could hold the spoon without the bandage restricting her movement. She had taken it off before her shower, and was reluctant to put it back on. She glanced at Ranger. "I hope that look in your eyes is not what I think it is. I'm injured."
His wolf grin fell into place. "I could get around that."
She rolled her eyes.
He laid back on the bed; long legs dangling off the side. "I was actually wondering how far I would get before Chris Hansen busted in the room asking if I knew how old you really were."
Soup came spewing out her mouth and back into the bowl as she laughed.
"Oh God!" she moaned. "You're gonna have to leave if you intend to keep making me laugh like that." Her hand rubbed her stomach. "This is torture."
"Wasn't my intention. Do you want me to get your medication?"
She shook her head. "No drugs. They'll make me groggy. Can't fight crime if I'm high as a kite."
His lips tightened. "You're not supposed to be fighting anything. Why don't you request a couple of days off to recuperate?"
She shot him a terse look. "Is this advice you would recommend for yourself?"
He stayed silent.
"Thought so." she said as she put the bowl back on the nightstand.
His phone rang. "Yo."
He listened while silently mouthing "Lester" to her.
"How did it go? Is she alright?" he asked.
Marissa busied herself with opening the pack of crackers; trying not to seem interested in his conversation. She knew who the she was. Knew the depth of the emotional entanglement between him and the woman he was inquiring about. She knew too much. She suppressed a sigh and nibbled on a cracker.
Ranger glanced over at the woman on the bed with him. She looked exhausted and lost. Lester was giving him an update on apprehending the skip with Steph, but he was barely listening.
Lester asked him about Marissa's condition.
"She's pretending to be alright. Bullied me into taking her home. But I'm giving her fifteen more minutes before her charade falls apart."
Marissa smacked him on the arm playfully, and when he smiled at her she was glad he was there to ease her post-takedown misery.
He finished up with the call then punched a single key on his phone. He waited a few seconds before Stephanie's voice floated over the line. She greeted him in the customary way.
"Lester tells me you got your man with minimal effort."
He listened as she proudly told him about her night.
"Proud of you Babe." he said.
She then asked him why he handed her off to Lester.
"Had an emergency to take care of. Friend of mine got hurt."
Marissa squirmed uncomfortably on the bed. There was that "f" word again. She began to slide off the bed with the intent of going to the kitchen to get something to drink. She wanted to give him some privacy. He wasn't having it. His hand shot out and latched onto her wrist stopping her retreat.
Stephanie asked if his friend was going to be alright. He looked at Marissa's sullen face. "I hope so." he said then disconnected.
He didn't release his grip on her until she looked up at him. "Is she alright?"
Ranger raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you asking out of genuine concern or as an emotional stall tactic?"
"Does it matter?"
"To me? Yes."
Ranger could see her thinking carefully about her words, and could tell that many of them were rejected before they passed her lips.
"Um...thanks for coming...and driving me home...you didn't..."
"No need to thank me. I wanted to come."
She nodded and reached for the Ace bandage she had carelessly thrown on the bed. Ranger knew wrapping her wrist was beyond her. He took it and expertly encased it around her hand. She was not surprised that he was well-versed in attending to injuries; it was a skill he had learned back when he was in the Army. He held her hand loosely in his when he was finished, and frowned at her swollen and ravaged fingers.
His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with anger, but his fingers stayed gentle as they traced the edge of the bandage against her knuckles.
"I swear to God, Mari, if you ever do anything like that again..." His voice was low and telegraphed threats and consequences. She'd seen flashes of his temper before, and he had turned it on her once or twice, but it was obvious now that they were glancing blows. Being the target of the full force of his anger triggered a panic response, and she pulled her hand away.
"I was doing my job." Her voice sounded like she was whining, and she hated that.
"There were other agents there doing their job also, but they all had backup with them. What the hell were you thinking?" he asked angrily as he stood up.
"Okay, don't do that."
He stared at her.
"Don't take your fear out on me. I'm a trained officer of the law. I know the protocols and risks, and I did call for backup. So don't try to make me feel reckless and selfish because I wasn't." She tried to keep her voice steady, but it broke a little at the end.
He shook his head and turned away. He dug his fingers into his hair in a frustrated gesture. He kept his hand on top of his head and she wondered if he realized the connotations of surrender that had for her with her FBI training. She almost laughed at that. Of course he did.
"I'm sorry I made you worry." she whispered.
Ranger turned back around slowly. He watched her; looking for something, and he felt like they spent half their lives staring at each other. He swallowed hard and dropped his hands. He looked away, focusing on a point just beyond her shoulder as he tried to order his thoughts. His anger drained away, and when he looked back at her all he felt was remorse.
"I should go. You need your rest." he said and turned towards the door.
Disappointment reeled through her, but she barely managed mask it by giving him a tight smile and nodding her head.
"I'll come by and check on you in the morning before I head back to Trenton."
"You don't...I mean...I'll be alright." her eyes dropped to her lap.
She heard him walk towards her. "Do you want me to stay?"
Yes. "No. It's okay. I'll be fine." She couldn't look him.
"Liar."
This time she looked up, but it was to glare at him. "I don't need a babysitter."
Ranger knew that beneath her bravado she was raw and hurting. They had an unorthodox kind of friendship; one uniquely suited to surviving the savage nature of their jobs, and blunting the sharp edges of reality no matter how fucked up the world got. He remembered why he long ago had concluded that she was very dangerous. She had a way of slipping past his defenses, and reminding him that underneath his mercenary façade he was still a man who had basic needs and emotions like the rest of the population. He got a high off of trading outrageous stories, and the meaningless flirting they fell into when they pretended they were like normal people.
She was his friend. No doubt one of his best friends. He wondered sometimes if that was all they would ever be. True, they had dabbled in the more-than-friends path a while back when they had slept together. But time, distance, lack of communication and neglect of coming to terms with what happened had dulled the emotional impact between them. Plus, he was still in love with Stephanie. She had moved back in with Morelli, but that didn't stop him from poaching. Sometimes in the depths of her eyes, in the tone of her voice, in the occasional lingering touch, he thought there was a flicker of something deeper than friendship between them. She didn't resist him when he kissed her, and he was still the first person she called for help or to run an idea by. She fed his ego and made him feel invincible. Nothing like being someone's hero. It was addictive.
But the woman before him didn't need him to be a superhero. She didn't need him to offer a second opinion on a case she was working on, or go after fugitives on the FBI's Top Ten list, or even protect her out on the street. She didn't need him at all. But she wanted him. And being wanted was a complex aphrodisiac he found himself craving for the past few months.
He smiled at her. "I beg to differ when you're wearing those pajamas."
Her lips twitched. "You're gonna enjoy holding this over my head, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am. Especially when Tank sees the picture."
"Picture? What picture?"
He flipped open his phone and held it up to her. The audible snap of the image being captured momentarily stunned her.
"Carlos!"
She was a few seconds too slow when she leapt off the bed and lunged for the phone.
He laughed as he pushed the phone deep in his pockets. "I think that's going to be my screensaver from now on."
A stream of curse words filled the air around them as she threatened dismemberment and death.
He undid his gun belt, took off his jacket and slipped off his boots. He pulled back the comforter on her bed then tugged her down onto it.
"What are you doing? I thought you were leaving." she said, her voice rising slightly with panic.
"Change of plans." he said as he spooned her. Her back was instantly infused with hot, Cuban male.
One of his arms rested loosely on her hip, while the other was secured as a pillow underneath her head. Despite her injuries Marissa felt a shiver of desire run through her, and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning out loud.
"You're too close." she said as she wiggled against him.
"You better stop moving like that otherwise I'll show you just how close I can get." he said in a low and husky voice against her ear.
She laid still, caught between wanting to call him on his threat but knowing that he was a man of his word.
A comfortable silence fell around them. It felt good to be held without awkwardness or complications.
"Are you staying the night?" Marissa asked. Hope lingered in her voice. He was her small bit of sanity in her chaotic world. She needed him to distract her from the dull pain her stomach was emitting, and her throbbing head and hand.
"Is that an invitation?"
"Why does that sound like entrapment?"
"Do you ever answer questions?"
"Do you?"
They both laughed at the rhetoric nature of their conversation.
"It feels good to laugh." Ranger said as their laughter died down.
God knew he hadn't done much of that lately. His life seemed to revolve around violence, scumbags, money, pent-up sexual frustration and guilt. Being carefree was a luxury not even he could afford. But here he was in a one bedroom apartment, in Long Island, having it handed to him freely. Amazing.
Marissa rubbed her stomach and groaned. "I wish I could say the same."
"You know, you could just take the painkillers."
She scrunched up her face. "I'll take my chances with the sleep."
"Would help if you were actually doing it."
She snorted. "It would help if I didn't have a sexy man wrapped around me."
He smiled. "So you think I'm sexy?"
"Uh uh...I'm not playing up your ego like that. God knows all the other women do it."
"Does that make you jealous?'
She let out a bark of laughter. "No. I don't have any claims on you like that."
His fingers drew small circles on hips. "So what is this? What's going on between us? A meaningless dalliance? What Mari?"
She turned around to face him. "If I wanted that, I would choose someone less complicated."
"I'm complicated?"
She shot him a pointed look.
"Are you willing to risk complicated?"
"I'm willing to dabble in it." She met his eyes squarely.
"You're a very brave woman."
She smiled. "I know."
"And modest too." he said as he smiled back. "Now go to sleep.
"Are you going to sleep too?"
"Eventually. I want to make sure Chris Hansen doesn't surprise me if I make any sudden moves on you while you're asleep."
The sound of her laughter and groaning filled the room once again.