A/N-I was busy doing Nanowrimo throughout November so I haven't posted anything in a while. During that process I wrote a few short stories as a break from the larger story I was working on, so I thought I'd share them. This one was inspired by the song Like I'm Gonna Lose You by Meghan Trainor (because my daughter kept playing it over and over). It's not a deep story, just another perspective on Someday. I hope you enjoy it, but either way I'd love to hear what you thought of it. Thanks, and be back soon with more updates.
Warning: Rated Teen for some weak swearing and some very light smut or eluded to smut.
Disclaimer: as always, this is my work, but all the characters and their world belong to JE, just using them for entertainment, no monetary gain.
Oh, and be kind, I think the proofreading looks good but I confess to being on large quantities of cough syrup and sinus medication at the moment.
Like I'm Gonna Lose You
The wind blew, tossing Stephanie's curls across her face. She pushed them away, looking up at the man standing beside her. In the silver light of the moon his face was shadowed, a mystery, much like his life. But unlike the hidden parts of his face that she could describe in complete and accurate detail without looking, his past, his present, and his future were and always would be a mystery to her. Still, she couldn't help but love the things she did know about him.
He was a good man. He had a strong moral code that he never crossed. He would risk his life for others without a second thought. He cared deeply for his work, including those he had sworn to protect. He was dedicated to his company, his career, and the people that trusted him to keep them safe. He was a hero, probably in ways she'd never know or understand. And he did all these things with demons haunting him, probably specters from his past. She wasn't sure if it was his present dedication or his past demons that kept him from committing to her, but it didn't really matter. Either way he wasn't her future and he'd made that clear enough times that she finally believed him.
Tonight, though, something was different. She sensed a sadness in him that she never had before. Perhaps it was in the hard set of his strong jaw. Or, maybe, the usual sparkle in his eyes was dimmed. Then again, it may have been that need he seemed to have to touch her. Not that he didn't always enjoy touching her, but tonight was different.
He'd asked her to walk with him, so she agreed. He didn't seem to have destination in mind. He was just silently walking, holding her hand, which was the strange part. She couldn't remember the last time someone had just held her hand like this, for no reason at all. After an hour they had finally circled the neighborhood and found themselves back in the parking lot of her apartment building.
That's when he turned her toward him, like they were standing now. Face to face. He was just staring at her, like he was trying to memorize what she looked like. She didn't like it. She knew whatever he was going to say wasn't what she wanted to hear. So when he opened his mouth, she covered his lips with her finger. She couldn't let him say it.
He seemed to recognize that she understood the situation, so he kissed her finger lightly, then pulled her hand away. She was suddenly pulled into his arms, and his warm lips were covering hers. She clung to him, kissing him back. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, taking comfort in that kiss, but it was not long enough.
He finally pulled back. His fingers wiped away the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she'd started crying. "Babe," he whispered, then kissed her lips again. "I have to go."
And just like that he turned and walked away. A black SUV appeared out of nowhere, then he was gone.
Gone.
The panic that always filled her, woke her from the dream again. The same dream that had replayed itself in her mind for the last five weeks. Since the night he had gone, without an explanation. Her sheets were damp with sweat, her pillow wet with her tears, and her heart was broken inside her chest.
And now they told her that he was missing. She understood what his men weren't saying when they said he was missing. In his line of work missing meant either captured or killed. Either way, she'd never have the chance to tell him the words she should have said that night, the words he never heard her say. He'd never know how much she loved him.
Dear God, she prayed. Please, give me the chance to tell him, just once. Please bring him home.
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Ranger looked up at the sky, the moon was so bright tonight. The trees cast strange shadows, but wherever the light touched was sprinkled in silver and gold. It reminded him of that night. The night he had to go.
He'd taken Stephanie walking, the moonlight had turned her brown curls to gold that night. Her pale skin, shimmered in silver. She looked like an angel, one he had no right to touch. But he couldn't let her go, not until the very last minute.
So he'd held her hand and kept her close, hoping he'd find the courage to speak the words he longed to say, but he couldn't do it. She had always deserved better than a man like him. He couldn't give her the life she wanted. He wasn't what he needed.
He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted the right to ask her to wait for him to come home, but he couldn't. He knew the risks. There was a good chance he wouldn't come home from this job, just the ones before and the ones yet to come.
He had tried to get out of this line of work, but there were always jobs like this one. A job where he was the best man, the one with the most experience, the one with the most knowledge, the one that they could depend on to get it done cleanly. He knew, contract or not, he couldn't say no to those jobs. If they didn't need him it could cost him his life. His only hope was to outlive his usefulness.
Someday there would be wars in countries he wasn't familiar with. There would be younger, stronger men that could do things he couldn't anymore. There would come a time when he'd be a consultant, not a participant. He just needed to make it home each time they sent him out. He needed to do what was needed so he wouldn't be terminated early. He needed to live in this hell and hope to God that he'd make it to retirement. Then he could finally live.
But he couldn't ask her to wait for something that in all probability would never happen. He couldn't do that to her. She deserved more. She deserved everything, a loving husband, a family, and a home…a life he couldn't give her.
So he had kissed her with every ounce of love he felt for her poured into it, then he walked away. He never kissed her with anything less. He couldn't. Each of those kisses had to be enough to sustain him for a lifetime, because he never knew if one of their kisses would be their last. Not only didn't he know if he'd come home, but he never knew what he'd come home to if he did make it. She could have moved on while he was gone. She could have gotten engaged or married to the other man that loved her. Or, God forbid, one of her frequent accidents could have gone awry without him there to protect her. Or, more likely, she could have just decided she was tired of playing his games and forgot all about him.
Not that he meant their relationship to seem like a game. He just couldn't stay away from her, yet he couldn't keep her close. It became an endless game of push and pull, of heartache and hurt, for both of them. He had to stop it. One way or the other, when he finally got home he had to end the ride they were on. She deserved more.
He tossed his bag into the back of the rental car, then got in. His whereabouts were still unclear to his government contacts. He was probably considered MIA at this point, but no one would be looking for him. This job, like all the others, were off the books. The government took no responsibility for his work or his life. He only hoped his men hadn't shared that information with Stephanie before he got to her.
He needed to see her, to know she was safe and happy before he went back for his debriefing. He knew his handler wouldn't like that he didn't report immediately, but he didn't give a shit. She had become more important to him, which terrified the shit out of him too. If his handler found out about her, there was a good chance she would disappear from his life forever. He couldn't allow that, but he couldn't stay away either. Especially after the last two weeks.
The job had gone wrong. The intelligence had been bad. He'd walked into what would have killed most men, but not him. He hadn't fought them. He'd allowed them to capture him, waiting for the enemy to give him an opportunity to get out. It'd taken two weeks before they believed he was too fucked up to go anywhere. Unfortunately for them, they were wrong.
His wrist and multiple fingers were broken, as well as a few ribs, and his nose. He had open wounds on his back that he knew were becoming infected, cuts on his chest, burns on his arms and legs, and his feet were so sore he could barely push the gas pedal, but he knew he had to get home. He had to see her, then everything would be alright.
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Stephanie dragged herself out of bed. She had to go to work whether she wanted to or not. Today, like every day of the last six weeks, she didn't want to go. She dressed hastily, grabbed a PopTart, fed the corner to her hamster, and then walked down to her parking lot.
She was parked in the back corner, next to the dumpster, just like she always did. It wasn't exactly by choice. The spot was always open and she figured her elderly neighbors deserved the closer spots anyway, so she usually just headed there without looking for something closer. As she was walking she felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise, like someone was watching her.
She did a quick glance around the lot, but didn't recognize any of the cars as belonging to Ranger or one of his guys. She started to reach for her phone, to call Joe, but she couldn't bother him. She had ended things with him well over a month ago. She knew he'd come help, he still cared about her, but she didn't want to give him hope that they would get back together again. She knew, even if she never saw Ranger again, that she couldn't be with Joe. She didn't love him like she loved the other man and that wasn't fair to him, or to her.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man, he looked like he was staggering toward her. He was dressed like he was homeless, with his face covered by the low pulled brim of his hat. She quickened her steps and got her key ready for a quick entry into the big, blue Buick she'd borrowed from her grandmother. When she looked up at him again, she stopped. Something about him was familiar, something made her start to move toward him instead. As she stood there looking at him from over the hood of the vehicle her heart skipped a beat.
That's when she knew it was him. He looked different, physically, but it was him. Her body and her heart would know him anywhere. She started to run toward him. She round the front fender of the Buick and ran as fast as her feet would take her. Then she heard the explosion, felt the heat on her skin, and her body was weightless, drifting, falling. "Ranger…"
But the word died in the noise surrounding her.
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He saw her and knew the moment recognition had set it. Her smile called to him. He started to walk toward her, as quickly as he could, but his body was so injured he couldn't move quickly enough. Then it was all over, in the blink of an eye. Her body was thrown, the smoke clouded his vision. He had to find her, he had to get to her. "Stephanie…"
Large hands wrapped around his broken ribs, holding him back from the heat of the wreckage. He fought against those hands. He had to find her. She couldn't be the one to leave. She couldn't be gone. "Stephanie!"
The hands holding him were attached to a large, strong body. He was pulled back against the other man's chest. "Ranger, we got this," Tank told him. His men were already in the smoke, searching for her. The sirens were blaring in the distance. Where was she? "Ranger, it's time."
Ranger couldn't understand what he best friend was saying. His panic was overwhelming him. He never panicked. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the malnourishment, the torture he had survived to get home to her, he wasn't sure, but he was definitely panicking now. "Get in the car, Ranger."
He was pulled back, forced inside the backseat of the car. His cousin was behind the wheel. "Santos, I'm not leaving her," he said as he reached for the door handle.
"I know," Santos replied. "We got her, Ranger. Plan 4EVR."
Ranger blinked at him, then he understood. "She's alive?"
"Her hair is a little singed and her skin is a red, but it looks no worse than a bad sunburn," he answered. "She's on her way to the meeting point."
She was safe. He'd be with her soon. He closed his eyes and let the pain take him away.
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"Hal?" Stephanie grumbled from the backseat of the car. "Where are we going? Where's Ranger? Is he alright?"
"He's meeting us there," Hal told her. "We're securing you."
"From what?" she grumbled.
"From a serious threat," he answered.
"I haven't had any threats."
"They haven't been made to you," Hal answered again. "Just relax. We're almost there."
Stephanie pouted in silence as they traveled down the highway. She kept looking behind her, but there was no sign that anyone was following them. Honestly, she'd have been scared shitless if she didn't know that Ranger trusted her life with Hal. He was her bodyguard and her friend, sort of. He wouldn't hurt her, she knew that.
After hours of driving they pulled off onto a dirt road, then onto another dirt road. The moonlight was starting to peek through the leaves that canopied the road. She thought it must have been a forest for as long as they drove into the trees. Then, finally, a giant iron gate came into view. Hal opened his window and manipulated the control panel. The gate opened, then two armed men stepped out and looked into the vehicle.
"Make it alright?" one of them asked Hal.
"Yeah," he answered. "No tails, no nothing."
"Good," he nodded. "Boss is inside."
Stephanie's heart was hammering inside her chest. Ranger was here. She was finally going to be able to see him. She didn't pay any attention to the size of the fortress. She didn't pay attention to the soft, inviting colors inside it. She didn't even notice the expense poured into making that fortress a home. All her attention was focused on finding the man she loved.
"Where is he?" she asked Tank.
"Steph," Lester started. "Bobby's in the bedroom with him. Cleaning him up."
She looked at Hal for clarification, but there was none. "What does that mean?"
"He was injured while he was gone," Lester started. Stephanie didn't hear anymore. She took off down the hall, the only direction that could have held bedrooms.
She heard Ranger's moan and felt her starved stomach try to empty. She fought through the nausea and grasped the knob, then opened the door. Ranger was standing, stripped fully bare, in the center of the room. The injuries on his body sucked the air from her lungs. He was bruised, nearly everywhere, like he'd been beaten nearly to death. He'd obviously been whipped with something that broke the skin on his back, which Bobby was dressing at the moment. His arms and legs were also bandaged, his wrist was wrapped in some sort of brace, and when he turned to look at her she couldn't stop the gasp that escaped from her lips.
"I'm not too pretty," he said through puffy, cut lips. His nose was taped and the bruising around it clearly showed that it had been broken. She knew the signs, she'd broken hers a time or two.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she told him as she crossed the room.
He reached out and took her hands. He pulled her in, settling her hands on his waist. "My ribs are bruised up, but I need to hold you," he told her.
She needed that too, so she wrapped her arms around his waist and let him settle her against his chest. "What happened to you?" she asked.
"I got caught," he answered.
"And the people that did this to you?"
He was silent for a moment, but then drew a breath and said, "I killed them."
"Good. You saved me a trip," she agreed, relieved that they wouldn't touch him again.
"Are you hurt?" he asked. "From the explosion?"
"No, just my right arm, but it's not bad," she told him, knowing the slight burn and skinned knees she suffered were nothing compared to what he was dealing with. "Are you going to be alright?"
He didn't answer though. He just held her, and she allowed it, until Bobby was done cleaning his wounds. "Antibiotics and pain pills are on the night stand," Bobby told them. "Steph, there's some burn cream in the bathroom."
"Thank you," she told him, but Ranger still hadn't answered her earlier question. Was he alright?
After Bobby left them alone, she pulled Ranger toward the bed by his good arm. "Get in bed," she ordered. He complied, settling himself on his left side. She got a pillow and put it against his chest, then settled his hurt wrist on top of it. Then she stripped out of her dirty, smoky clothes and crawled in beside him. The only barrier was that pillow.
"What is this place?" she asked.
His eyes fluttered shut, but she knew he was still awake. "My house," he told her. "The only people that know of its existence are here right now, except Tank. We're safe here."
"Safe from what?"
His eyes opened as far as they could, looking at her through the bruised lids. "This mission was bad, Steph. The information they gave me was wrong. I walked in there, but I don't think I was supposed to walk out." She didn't know what to think. He'd never told her about his missions before. All he ever said was that he had to go, not where or anything else. "Tank believes they were trying to eliminate me."
"What's that mean?"
"It means that Ranger Manoso is dead," he told her truthfully.
"You're not dead," she grumbled at him. "I won't let them kill you."
"Not me," he answered quietly. "Ranger, he's dead. He can't go back to Trenton. No one can see him again."
His foot moved over, stroking over her foot. It was probably the only movement he could manage. "I don't understand."
"I can't go back there, Steph."
"Then where will you go?"
He shook his head just slightly. "Here. Or one of my other properties. It doesn't matter."
"Ranger…"
He shook his head no. "That life is over, Steph."
"Then what the fuck do I call you?" she asked in frustration.
"Marc," he answered easily. "You call me Marc."
She knew the name, she'd heard him say it before. She just didn't know that he'd told her his alias on purpose, in case she ever needed to find him. In case he had to disappear without a word. He needed her to know that name then. "You can't just erase yourself from my life. I won't let you pretend the last five years haven't happened. They told me you were missing and all I could think was that you had to come home so I could tell you how much I love you, but now…"
He lifted himself on his good arm and leaned over her. "I'm not going to forget anything, Stephanie. I didn't bring you here to tell you to forget me. I brought you here, because I want you in my life. Stephanie, stay here, come away with me. Be mine no matter where we end up."
Her mind was completely blown. She wasn't sure she was really hearing any of this. "How?"
"It won't be easy. You won't be able to go home. You won't see your family or your friends again. You'll have to give up everything," he warned.
"But not you?" she asked.
"It's either me or your life in Trenton," he agreed. "I'll understand if you can't leave it all behind. It's a lot to ask of anyone. I know I shouldn't have even asked you to do this, but I can't seem to walk away from you."
She shook her head no and his heart started to break. "It's not hard at all. You have no idea how easy the choice is," she told him. "I don't have a life there without you, Ranger…Marc. I can't live there without you. I don't want to live anywhere without you."
"There will be no going back," he reminded her. "You can't change your mind. Stephanie Plum will be gone. They'll find her body burned in that car."
Her eyes widened. "How?"
"We'll alter your medical and dental records to match the cadaver," he said quietly.
Oh, God. "They already did it, didn't they?"
Ranger couldn't tell her that the bomb had been planted by his men, that the body was already inside the car, or that they did it because they knew his government handler was planning to have her killed. He needed her to have a clear head with this decision. "Not the records, not yet, but the assumption is that you were in the car."
She felt a little sick knowing that her parents and grandma thought she was dead. She thought of poor Joe, driving to scene, thinking this was the time she didn't walk away. She wanted to spare them all the pain, but that would mean losing Ranger forever. "Have them do it," she finally said. "I'm not leaving you again. I won't let you send me away."
"You're sure?"
She nodded as she stared back at him. "Stephanie Plum is dead."
He gave her a little lopsided grin. "What should I call you then?"
"What is Marc's wife's name?" she asked cautiously.
His smile brightened, spreading across his face. He wasn't able to stop it no matter how much it hurt him. "Estefania Pardo?"
"You should call her Stef though," she agreed as she leaned in to kiss his lips.
"I love you, Stef."
"I love you too," she agreed as she laid her head on the pillow next to his. "More than anything."
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Ten months later Marc brought a bowl of freshly washed grapes out to the patio. His beautiful wife was stretched out on a chaise under the sun. Their move to the Mediterranean villa had been a good one. They'd taken enough time for him to heal from all his wounds, made sure that they were both pronounced dead properly, and seen that their families were moving on with their lives before leaving the states. But then it was time to move on and have the life they both dreamed of for so long.
"How's Tank doing?" she asked with a smile that only grew brighter and wider with every day that they had been away from Trenton. He'd never regret taking her away from that city. She was more confident, happier, and so healthy looking that she just glowed with a light he'd never seen in another person.
"He's bitching about the paperwork, but he's happy for us," he told her before leaning down for a kiss that didn't end until she had him on his back, on the chaise, under her. "He was sure to look over the suggestions I sent him."
Marc Pardo had always been one of Carlos Manoso's business partners, so he still owned a piece of the company even though he no longer carried the majority of ownership. When Carlos passed away, his share had been split four ways between his friends, with Tank taking over as CEO. Now, as Marc, he was only consulted on projects when necessary and, of course, still received his quarterly payments from the company. Oddly, for as much as his work had meant to him, he was happy with the new situation. Too happy to miss working.
"You're going soft, Ranger," she whispered into his ear. "I pinned you with hardly any resistance."
He grabbed her hips and pushed himself against her warm center. "I'm anything but soft, babe."
Her laughter floated on the breeze, swirling around them and their perfect little paradise. "I love you." He'd never tire of hearing her say those three little words. He supposed that almost losing one another the way they had, gave them a perspective most people would never have. He would never take a moment with her for granted. He would take every single chance he had to kiss her lips for as long as he could. He would hold her for as long as she'd allow. He never wanted to look back on his life and wish that he had done something different. He wanted no regrets when their time together ended. And he knew she felt the same way, because those words she had such difficulty saying before flowed from her lips freely and proved it to him time and time again.
He grinned back at her. "I love you too."
"Marc?"
"Hmm?" he answered as he reached up to slip the straps of her sundress down her shoulders. Her skin was bronzed from the sun and so beautiful he couldn't keep his hands off of it. He tugged the dress down to her waist and skimmed the back of his hands over her breasts.
"Marc?" she sighed again. "Are you listening?"
"Definitely," he agreed before leaning up to capture one of the rosy tips in his mouth.
"Oh, God," she sighed as his hand moved up under the dress, finding the spot he loved to stroke.
"I'm still listening," he told her.
"Later," she moaned. "Later."
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Later…
"Ranger?" she whispered into his ear.
"Hmm?"
"What would Marc and Stef Pardo name their baby?"
He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Are you?" She nodded with a little smile. She was so happy to have made a child with him, but she was completely nervous about how he'd feel. They were no longer in immediate danger, but they did have to live cautiously. And they were alone, with only one another to rely on. "Babe."
His hands covered the spot low on her abdomen where their child was growing inside her. The amazed look on his face turned into a slow smile. "Pedro Pardo," he told her, making her laugh.
"That's terrible."
"Nah, it's perfect," he smiled back at her disbelieving face. "And we'll teach him everything we know. He'll be the perfect combination of the two of us."
"God help this world," she teased back as she snuggled into his embrace.
That he will, thought Ranger. There was no way her son wouldn't save the world…someday.
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And thirty years later Pedro Pardo took Trenton, New Jersey by storm when his uncle Tank retired.
The burg women couldn't believe a man with such good looks existed. His dark, smoldering looks combined with the curly locks and blue eyes made him the most exotic looking man imaginable. The RangeMan team stood in awe of the new boss too. His cunning, ruthlessness in the boardroom warred with the fairness and patience he showed to the men that worked for him. The officers at the TPD said they had never seen so many criminals brought in by just one man before. They wondered how one man could possess both that level of physical power and the kind of intuition that never led him down a wrong path. The man was like a bloodhound with a GPS taped to its ass.
Everyone wondered where he came from and how he learned to do all things he was able to do to perfection. Everyone except the police chief, Joe Morelli. He watched the young man with a grin on his face. He knew exactly where he learned it. The kid was a perfect combination of his parents. But Joe would never give away the truth, he enjoyed finally having a secret of his own. One that the burg wouldn't be able to exploit like they had everything else in his life.
So one night when his daughter brought the kid home for dinner, he welcomed him at his table, despite the burg warnings his wife heard about the kid being some kind of criminal. He knew better, and he couldn't think of a better man for his daughter. She'd be loved and protected no matter what the kid had to do, just like his father had done for his mother once upon a time.
The song that inspired this little tale…
Lyrics: Like I'm Gonna Lose You by Meghan Trainor
I found myself dreaming
In silver and gold
Like a scene from a movie
That every broken heart knows
We were walking on moonlight
And you pulled me close
Split second and you disappeared
And then I was all alone
I woke up in tears
With you by my side
A breath of relief
And I realized
No, we're not promised tomorrow
So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
And I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye
Wherever we're standing
I won't take you for granted
'Cause we'll never know when, when we'll run out of time
So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
In the blink of an eye
Just a whisper of smoke
You could lose everything
The truth is you never know
So I'll kiss you longer baby
Any chance that I get
I'll make the most of the minutes
And love with no regrets
Let's take our time to say what we want
Here's what we got before it's all gone
'Cause no, we're not promised tomorrow
So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye
Wherever we're standing
I won't take you for granted
'Cause we'll never know when, when we'll run out of time
So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye
Wherever we're standing
I won't take you for granted
'Cause we'll never know when, when we'll run out of time
So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you
Songwriters
SMITH, CAITLYN ELIZABETH / WEAVER, JUSTIN MICHAEL / TRAINOR, MEGHAN