Alrighty. I thought it might be time to revisit our favorite couple during their weekend interlude at the batcave. (See Faith and Conversations from the Batcave as this sequels both of them).
Enjoy!
Warning: Lock up your pets, don't be eating or drinking. Just in case. And disclaimer; I don't own em, but wish I did!
More Conversations from the Batcave
"So...What are we cooking?" I asked, walking back into the kitchen. I had gone to the bathroom and gotten distracted, snooping through Ranger's bedroom. All sortsa cool things in there, including pictures of us, and pictures of me, and even one of Julie. I'd checked it out top to bottom, noting that Ranger's black silk boxers were there...and that the nightstand did not house a box of condoms. Now that didn't bode well for my plans for the weekend, even if Ranger intended to wait until "at least monday" before anything happened. I figured I could change his mind on that, but the lack of that certain little box put a rather large crimp in that idea.
"I wasn't aware that we were cooking anything." Ranger said, without turning from the pot he was stirring.
"Well what would you call that?" I asked indignantly, pointing at the pot.
"Babe." Ranger shook his head. "I am cooking. You were snooping."
"Fine." I humphed. "What are you cooking?"
"Stir fry."
"When did the man of mystery go domestic?"
"Trust me babe, I can fend for myself just fine when I need to."
"Does that mean it'll be edible?" I asked, trying for an innocent tone, but grinning.
"More edible than anything you can cook." he shot back.
"Hey!"
"Well." Putting the spoon down, Ranger turned around and grinned at me, a full two-hundred watts. He snaked one arm around my waist and pulled me to him, kissing me lightly. "You look good in my house, babe."
"Thanks. I think." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him back, gently. "What can I do to help?"
"Nothing. All under control."
"Your mother teach you how to cook?"
"Cuban necessity." he shrugged, turning back to the pot he was stirring. It smelled terrific, that's for sure.
I leaned against the counter. "So what's for dessert?"
"I don't eat dessert."
"Well I do! And besides. You should eat dessert. Round out your food chain so it's balanced. Can't live on salad, you know."
"Can't live on dessert either."
"I won't. I'll eat your fried vegetables." I pointed out.
"They're not fried vegetables, babe, it's stir fry. They're more, like, sauteed."
"Ok, I'll eat your sauced vegetables." I rolled my eyes, deliberately mis-speaking sauteed. "And you eat my dessert."
"Babe." Ranger shook his head again, still stirring the pot. I went over and rooted through the fridge. Nothing in there that qualifies as dessert. Or anything I could make into dessert. Wait. Olives.
"Do you have any peanut butter?"
"Nope." Damn. So much for that idea. I sighed, and shrugged, and snooped through the cupboards until I found plates to set the table. By the time I was done, Ranger had the food done and we sat down to eat in silence. It gave me a chance to think, about this idea, about being here with Ranger. I loved seeing the batcave. I wondered what I wanted in a relationship. He said Forever was anything I wanted it to be. What did I want it to be? Wow, this food is terrific.
"This is incredible." I told Ranger between bites. He nodded, the corners of his mouth curved up just slightly, and we continued to eat in silence while I thought a mile a minute. I think I wanted a real relationship with him. Maybe not marriage, not right away, but I wanted us to be together, and for it to be more than just sex. I knew that. I just didn't know how to make it work. Earlier, lying on the lounge chair, in his arms, mourning Morelli and napping, it felt right, as if we belonged together. As if we could make it work. Now, sitting across the table from the man of mystery, a man who truly is a mystery to me, I was starting to have doubts.
"How are we going to make this work?" I blurted, as we were finishing the meal. Ranger swallowed his last mouthful and looked at me, eyebrow raised. "A relationship. How are we going to make it work?"
"The same way any other one does." Ranger shrugged. He seemed to think it was the easiest thing in the world. I disagreed.
"Yes, but, in a normal relationship people know things about the other person."
"Babe, I know everything there is to know about you."
My first instinct was to tell him he didn't, but then I realized he probably did. Ranger knew everything about everyone. "Yes, but I know nothing about you."
"You know more about me than everyone except my family and Tank." He pointed out.
"And I still know almost nothing!" he gave me a questioning look, so I continued. "I know you have a daughter, named Julie. Your grandmother's name is Rosa. Everyone calls you Carlos. You're two months older than I am, and you have a sister named Celia and three other sisters and a brother. Tank knows a lot about you. You have two ears, a nose, a mouth, two arms, ten fingers, two legs, two feet, and...wait. Take off your socks?"
"Babe?"
"I don't know how many toes you have. I want to see. Take off your socks." I was well on my way to panicking.
"Babe." Ranger's mouth crooked into an amused smile. "I have ten toes." He stood up, and then walked around the table to pull out my chair and grab me by the wrists, pulling me up with him. He walked me to the couch, and we both sat down. Ranger slung his arm around my shoulders, and leaned me into him slightly.
He didn't speak right away. I got the feeling he was weighing his words, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he took a breath. "Look, babe. I don't volunteer information. It's ingrained, it's not something I do on purpose. If you want to know something, ask. If I can tell you, I will."
"What qualifies as "can't tell me?"" I asked.
"Classified information."
"So if I ask about your siblings, about their kids, about Julie, about your relationship with Tank, about what you do at 3am when you're out on the town...you'll answer?"
Ranger was quiet again, long enough that I was starting to worry that this really wouldn't work. I mean, he couldn't even commit to answering half of those questions? What kind of anyrelationship could we have, even a real friendship, if he wouldn't -
"Babe, you'll burn the house down." He squeezed my shoulder. "Yes. I would tell you. But please, don't grill me on details."
"Another compromise?"
"Of a sort."
We were quiet for a while. I still wasn't sure what all of this meant, where we were headed. "Babe?" he asked. I turned my head to look at him. He was watching me with a soft, unguarded expression.
"I never thought you'd be so...idle." I commented. "Sit around all day and not work."
"Usually not. Sometimes I need a break."
"And you just come here and do nothing?" I asked.
"No. I usually bring the laptop and paperwork."
"You didn't this weekend?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Babe, you're grilling."
I sighed, and leaned against him. I couldn't help it, I wanted to know. What made this weekend different? Was it because he didn't think he'd get any work done with me underfoot? Was it...I thought about possibilities for entirely too long, working my brain into a worry-fest.
Then Ranger spoke again, his hand massaging my shoulder. "I didn't bring any work because I came here this weekend for you."
Oh. Wow. I didn't even know what to say to that. We were quiet a long while, and I rested my head on his shoulder.
"Do you really thing this could work?"
"What could work, babe?"
"Us."
Ranger took a breath, and let it out slowly. "I told you I'd be back in your bed. And if you let me, I will be. And I won't let you go unless you walk away. I can't offer you perfect, babe. The hours suck and the interruptions never stop. And when I go out of town... But if we work hard enough...both of us... maybe it'll work. I don't know. I' don't have much experience with relationships. We're going to have to figure it out as we go. But I'm willing to try."
I thought about that. That worked. Maybe.
"Ok." I said softly, and then snuggled into his shoulder to enjoy the evening. Ranger took a book off the coffee table and shifted me so that I was cradled against his chest while he read. I closed my eyes and dozed, enjoying the feel of him surrounding me.
"Will you tell me about your family?" I asked suddenly, a while later.
"I'll do you one better, and take you to meet them next sunday." He told me. Oh boy, dinner with the bat-family. Scary and exciting all at once.
"Ok." I said in a small voice. Ranger chuckled and went back to his book.
"Do you think maybe..." I trailed off after another silence.
"Maybe what, babe?"
"Maybe you could take your socks off?"
"Why?"
"Just wanted to make sure you really do have ten toes." I said.
"Babe."
