Title: The Little Black Box

PFF Sept '07 Challenge: Found in a Coat Pocket

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JE. If they were mine, the series would have been very short, because I would have written a Babe ending by Book 4.

Rating: PG

Ugh. I awoke with a groan, sprawled face down on Joe's bed, to Bob pressing his wet nose into the hand I'd flung over the side. My other hand was so numb that I suspected it, along with the rest of that arm, had been severed from my body during the night. My eyes were squeezed shut against the morning sunlight flooding the room, my mouth was stuffed with cotton and I was pretty sure I had an ice pick jammed between my eyes. Possibly the cotton and the ice pick were just sensations brought on by way too much beer, but until I brought the hand bathed in Bob slobber to my head, I couldn't be sure. Nope, nothing was protruding from my forehead. My tongue pried it self from the roof of my mouth and made a smacking sound as I repeatedly opened and closed my lips. No cotton either. I was pretty confident about the sunshine, so I decided to leave my eyes closed.

I wiped the Bob slime on the sheet and slid my hand down my body to find, as I suspected from the chill factor, I was buck naked with the sheets tangled around my legs. I thought back to the night before, remembering how I'd ended up like this. I'd come over for pizza and to watch a game, but I did not intend to wind up back in this bed. Morelli and I had been off-again for the last few weeks, but he was starting to make conciliatory motions again, telling me Bob missed me, finally tempting me with the lure of Pino's. I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted from Joe and I'd been using the past few weeks to soul search. I thought that this time apart might be good for us, for me at least, to figure out where we were going. It was getting to a point where we needed to move to the next level or move on. Only the next level scared the daylights out of me and moving on was too depressing. But returning to the familiar holding pattern just didn't seem like the best of ideas. I'd been planning to tell him all of this last night. As I dimly recalled the prior evening, I'm pretty sure I never got a chance to make my case. I'd wanted a beer for courage. One beer had led to two. Two had led to too many to remember and then we'd fallen into the old routine: him on top, then me on top, then him on top.

I turned my head to the other side of the bed and cracked one heavy eye lid. Joe's side was empty, the covers equally thrashed. There was a note scrawled on the back of an old receipt resting on his pillow. With what seemed to be a monumental effort, I swung the comatose hand to the pillow and fumbled for the note. I ignored the pins and needles that were invading the graceless fingers and I brought the note right up to my nose to read it. Ya know there was a good possibility that I was still drunk. With the note that close, all I could make out was a smear of ink, so I did the trombone focusing technique until I found a distance where my bleary eyes could make some sense of it.

Cupcake-

Late for work. Dinner tonight?

Love you.

Joe

P.S. Would you walk Bob? Please? I'll owe you one.

I realized then, that Bob was still sitting next to the bed, whimpering and thumping his tail on the floor. In Bob speak, that was 'I gotta go bad, Steph.' That left me two choices, neither very appealing. Either get up and take Bob out or let him make a mess and clean it up later. Reluctantly choosing the first option, I rolled over and swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up way too fast. Yup. Still drunk. The room turned topsy-turvy and I put a hand to my head to keep it from spinning. With a few shallow breaths, I managed to suppress the nausea and stand up.

First things first, I stumbled into the bathroom to take care of my own business, grabbing my jeans and shirt on the way. My hot pink panties were nowhere to be found and the matching bra just wasn't required equipment for dog walking duty. I cleaned up quickly, mindful of the ticking dog-bomb, but not wanting to run into Joe's neighbors with mascara down my face and dried drool on my cheek. I brushed my teeth, gagging on the toothpaste and threw my hair up in a rubber band. Boy, that was gonna suck coming out, but it was the only thing I could find.

Finally I slid my feet into my sneakers, not bothering to untie them. "Come on, boy," I told Bob unnecessarily; he was already out the door and halfway down the stairs before the words left my mouth. I walked downstairs as quickly as my sloshing brain would allow, swinging through the kitchen to grab a few plastic grocery bags for doody duty. Bob was dancing at the front door by the time I'd caught up.

I stopped in the foyer to grab the spare key, my cell phone and pick my coat up off the floor, where I'd dropped it the night before. I put it on and realized that there was problem almost immediately. Okay, so it took my impaired brain a minute to figure out that the reason the front wouldn't zip was because the zipper was missing. That was when I noticed my coat had become more of a vest since the last time I'd worn it. The right sleeve was missing entirely and the left had been gnawed off at the elbow. Damn. I'd liked this coat. I looked down at Bob who was whimpering and avoiding my eyes and I growled. With a big sigh, I pulled the ruined coat off and grabbed one of Joe's hanging on a hook next to the door. It was big and comfy and warm and smelled like him. I shrugged into the coat, snapped Bob's leash on his collar and got him out the front door, stopping to lock up behind me.

We took off down the street, Bob sniffing and lifting his leg on tires, bushes, anything standing still, looking for the perfect place to do his thing. We'd walked two blocks, well Bob walked, I stumbled along behind, before I realized I'd left the bags behind. Crap. And I meant that in more ways than one. I quickened my pace, now dragging Bob behind me. If I could get Bob to Mr. Reese's lawn on the corner, I could leave the poop no problem. Mr. Reese had so many dogs that one more pile wasn't gonna make a difference.

But as my luck would have it, Bob elected to squat right where we were, and deliver his package in front of old lady Kulbicki's house. She was a bad-tempered, old biddy, a former librarian, the type whose head threatened to explode if anyone failed to follow the rules. I frantically searched Joe's pockets for something, anything to use. Bob finished his business quickly, looking happy and proud of himself. I'd be much more impressed if he'd figured out how to go in the toilet and let me stay in bed. I thought I saw a shadow at the curtain and cringed. My head just ­­wasn't up for a lecture from Mrs. Kulbicki about disrespectful youth and the degradation of our society. Getting frantic, I checked an inside pocket and scored. I felt the smooth, slick plastic of a shopping bag beneath my fingers and yanked it out, the contents of the bag flying out at the same time. A small box and receipt landed a few feet from me, but I was too intent on cleaning up the mess to worry with them just yet.

By the time I was done, Bob was ready to head back into the warmth of the house and was straining at the leash. I reached down and scooped up the stuff that had been in the bag, stuffed it in Joe's pocket and froze. The box my fingers were wrapped around wasn't just any box. It was a little black box, the velvet kind that holds jewelry.

I allowed Bob to pull me back toward the house, my feet moving involuntarily as my mind raced.

It probably was nothing. It probably had nothing to do with me. Probably Joe bought his Mom some earrings. Her birthday's coming up in six months. Or maybe he took an old piece of jewelry to get cleaned or fixed… or resized.

Like his grandmother's wedding ring.

Gulp.

My grip on the box tightened and then I let go, pulling my hand from the pocket. I was dying to know what was in the box and I was terrified of it all at once.

I really shouldn't snoop. Really. I didn't want to know. But, I stuck my hand back in the pocket and pulled the box out anyway. I stopped abruptly, nearly strangling Bob, and sat down on the curb. We were back in front of Morelli's, but I couldn't go in.

Sitting on the curb, elbows propped on my knees, I turned the box in my hands, feeling its weight and the brush of soft fabric under my finger tips. D & A Jewelry was embossed on the top in elegant gold script. Somehow, I just knew what was in the box.

I was torn between hurling the box into the gutter and pretending I'd never seen it and prying the lid open to confirm my suspicions. I felt tears clogging my throat, slipping down my cheeks. Oh God, I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want to make this decision yet. If he proposed I'd have to choose. Joe or Ranger? Burg or Batman? Real life or daydreams? I didn't want to be pushed. What if I picked the wrong one and was sorry for it for the rest of my life? What if I spent the next fifty years wondering 'What if?' and regretting what I gave up. What if what I wanted most, I really couldn't have? I was crying in earnest now, gasping and spluttering. I felt the signs of a panic attack coming on, my breath coming in short pants, my throat starting to close.

Any minute I was going to pass out in the street. Pulling out my cell phone to call for help, I wondered who to dial. Well, who did I usually call when I needed help?

He picked up the phone after a ring, "Yo."

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't speak.

"Babe?" Ranger asked, concern evident in his voice.

I made a sound in the back of my throat that could have been interpreted as affirmative… or a need for the Heimlich maneuver.

"Are you okay? Breathe."

I took a deep breath, blowing it out through my nose. I took another and managed to calm myself enough to choke out, "I'm okay."

"Where are you?" His voice was calm, but tense. Ranger's version of the panic attack.

"Joe's."

"I'll be there in five," he said and disconnected. It's funny, but those five words were enough to calm me down.

Now that sanity was returning, I wondered what I'd been thinking to call him. I flipped my phone shut. It must have been the lack of oxygen, or I wouldn't have bothered him with this. God, this was going to be embarrassing. It's one thing to call when I've got a crazed psycho outside my door. It's another thing when I'm the crazed psycho.

I lay back on the sidewalk. Bob came over and licked the side of my face, curious about what I was doing. He sat down beside me, blowing his doggy breath in my face, cuddling his orange, hairy body next to mine. Fall had gotten serious early this year and the concrete was cold beneath me. I really should get up and go inside, but I just couldn't make myself. I couldn't be in Joe's space right now. It would be too much like choosing Joe's life, accepting his not-yet-issued proposal. I thought about jumping in Big Blue and escaping, but Batman would find me and when he did I'd be in real trouble.

I was still lying on the sidewalk when Ranger pulled onto Slater Street, his precision engine roaring. He slid to the curb in front of me and I saw the car door open, two black booted feet hit the pavement and walked steadily toward me. Bob got up to greet him, wagging his tail so hard that his entire body was swaying. Ranger put a hand on Bob's head in greeting and continued to where I was laying. When he was standing over me, I glanced up to his face. His assessing gaze was taking in every detail, looking for danger or signs of trauma. Not finding any he was probably wondering why I'd called. He raised a questioning eyebrow, but I remained silent.

Finally he spoke, "Did you lock yourself out?" He looked amused and only mildly irritated.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. The cleansing kind after a crying jag that threatens to burst a lung. "I can't go back in there," I said in a small voice.

Ranger crouched down next to me, "What happened?"

I lifted my hand that was still cradling the box to my chest and wordlessly held it out to him.

"Babe," he said with a small smile, "You know I love you, but I'm not exactly marriage material."

I gasped and sat up, my head regretting the quick motion. "Not funny, Ranger," I said, one hand clutching the box and the other holding my head. It came out a little snippier than I'd intended, but I just wasn't in the mood to joke. From the look in Ranger's eyes, I was flirting with a trip to the wilds of a third-world jungle. Good thing I'd started watching Survivorman.

Of course I'm pretty sure he just said he loves me. Maybe I'm safe. "Sorry," I said. "I'm a little freaked out."

"I noticed," he said, gently, sitting down next to me on the curb close enough that I could smell the fresh aroma of his shower gel and the warm, sexy, male scent that was all Ranger. He stared into the distance for a while before looking at me. His emotions were shuttered when he asked, "Did you say yes?"

I shook my head, feeling tears starting to well up again. "He hasn't asked yet. I found it in his pocket and panicked." I swiped at the moisture at the corners of my eyes and turned to Ranger, "Do you think I should say yes?"

Please say no, I prayed fervently.

Ranger didn't answer, but gently removed the box from my fingers. I shut my eyes as he opened it, afraid to look. It had to be bad luck or something to see the ring before the proposal. It certainly wasn't a good sign that just the idea of the proposal sent me into heart palpitations.

"Did you open the box, Babe?" There was an odd note in his voice when Ranger spoke and I opened my eyes to look at him. He'd closed the box and was holding it out to me.

I shook my head again as I took it and sighed, "I was trying not to be nosey." His lips quirked into a half-smile and I rolled my eyes, "Yes, there is a first for everything."

"What makes you think it's for you?"

I glared at him. "What? You think Joe's got another girl on the side? You think just because you don't want an actual relationship with me that Joe doesn't either?" I felt anger crowding in. I might not actually want to be married right now, but I'm not that bad of a catch.

Ranger must have sensed I was heading for a rampage, because his voice was soothing and soft when he spoke, "I didn't say that, Babe. He'd be a fool to let you get away and I don't think he's a fool."

I looked down, staring at the laces on my sneakers when I answered quietly, "You sent me away. What does that make you?" It made him smart, I thought. I was a disaster waiting to happen.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, whispering against my temple when he answered, "Worse than a fool, Babe. A hypocrite." His voice was rough with uncharacteristic emotion when he continued, "And I never said I didn't want a relationship with you. I just don't have a lot to offer right now. You deserve the normal life, the kids, the white picket fence, all of it. Morelli can give you that. It doesn't feel right to ask you to settle for less than what you're worth."

I took a deep breath, stunned by what he'd just admitted and just a little ticked that he'd decided that being apart was in my best interests without even consulting me. "Maybe I consider the normal life with the kids and the white picket fence settling. Did you ever consider that?"

His silence told me that he hadn't. After a long moment, he asked, "What are you going to do when he asks you to marry him?"

"I've been trying to figure that out. I don't want to be married. At least not right now. I don't want to hurt him, but I feel like we're spinning our wheels. Like I'm holding him back." I looked into Ranger's dark eyes and sighed. If I didn't want to live the life of playing 'What if', it was time to lay it all on the line. "Plus, I don't think it's a good idea to marry him when I'm in love with someone else."

For once, I saw everything Ranger was thinking in his eyes. He raised a hand to cradle my cheek and leaned his forehead against mine, "And I don't think it's a good idea to let the woman I love marry another man."

I tilted my head up to brush my lips against his and murmured, "Then don't let me go."

He kissed me then and I felt all of the emotions that he normally hid, pouring into me. When he pulled away he said, "I don't intend to ever again."

I slid my fingers into his hair and drew his lips back to mine and I kissed him for all I was worth, heedless of the cold concrete, the traffic on the street and the curious neighbors.

We were still kissing when Joe's Toyota pulled into the driveway. Ranger and I pulled apart and got to our feet. Well, this wasn't exactly how and where I'd wanted this conversation to go down.

"Cupcake?" he asked, getting out of his car. "What's going on?" His voice was deceptively calm.

I laid a hand on his forearm. "I can explain."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because he jerked his arm away from me, taking a step backwards. There was nothing calm about him now. "Christ, Stephanie. You were in my bed this morning and not two hours later you're making out with Rambo on the front lawn. I've gotten thirteen phone calls in the last 30 minutes. I had to leave in the middle of a meeting with the Chief. First I hear you're passed out in the front yard, then you're being attacked by a terrorist and the reality is actually worse. What the hell is this all about?"

I held the box out to him and he took it with an expression that said, 'Yeah? And?' but he didn't say anything. He glanced in the box and slid it into his pocket.

I said, "I found it in your coat pocket by accident this morning."

"What does this have to do with him?" He jerked a thumb in Ranger's direction. Ranger had discreetly moved away, taking Bob with him, to give us a modicum of privacy.

"I panicked and couldn't breathe. Ranger came to help."

Joe snorted. "So this was his idea of mouth-to-mouth?"

"No, Joe. This was us coming to an understanding. This was me figuring out what I want." I added softly, gently, "And what I don't, Joe. I'm sorry."

Joe swallowed, his face set, jaw clenched tight. He stared at the pavement at my feet for a moment. "So that's how it is?" he asked, not looking at me.

My heart was breaking for him and the damn tears started up once more. Still, I owed it to him to be honest and make it a clean break. "I love you, Joe. But we want different things out of life and we're holding each other back. I can't marry you. I won't let either of us make that mistake."

Joe ran his hand through his already rumpled hair. "So what was last night? We're good together, Cupcake. You know it."

It had been a mistake, but I didn't want to be that honest. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and said with a sniffle, "Let's call it goodbye. We are good together, but we deserve more. We deserve perfection."

He shook his head and looked away, "Doesn't exist."

I glanced at Ranger standing a few feet away and smiled. "You might be surprised, Joe. I hope you find it."

Joe followed my gaze and then looked back down at me, shaking his head. "You're both crazy. Look, I can't deal with this now; I gotta get back to the station. Do me a favor. Move the show off the sidewalk. I've got work to do. And I really don't want to field calls about this all day. We'll finish this conversation later."

I nodded. And he walked back to his SUV, swinging inside and shutting the door behind him. All in all, I thought that had gone pretty well. Minimal yelling. Nothing broken. He was hurt, of course, but that was to be expected. It hurt me, too.

Before he pulled away, his driver's side window slid down and Joe leaned out. "One more thing," he called out. "What did Uncle Spud's birthday present have to do with all of this?" At my confused expression, he clarified, pulling the little black box out of his pocket. "The tie tack I got for my uncle's 70th birthday party next week. What did that have to do this?"

Tie tack? It wasn't a ring? Feeling lightheaded, I sank back down to the curb and said weakly, "Nothing, Joe. Nothing at all." All this fuss over a tie tack? Joe took off and Ranger was back at my side. I could feel his eyes on me and I'd say he was trying to figure out if I was going to faint or blow my top. I would probably do both, I'm just not sure in which order.

"It wasn't a ring?" I said, still dazed. Not a ring. I looked at Ranger who was sitting next to me once again, "Why didn't you tell me it wasn't a ring?"

If I didn't know better, I'd say that Ranger was blushing. "I wanted to know where we stood. In that moment when I thought you might have accepted his proposal, I realized all the reasons I've been creating to keep us apart are bullshit. But I didn't know how you felt. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry."

I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to give him a look. It wasn't easy to give a man that hot a look, but I gave it my best shot.

He pushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes and gently ran his finger tip down the curve of my cheek. His eyes held mine as he said, "I'm too happy to be sorry. I love you. Please don't be angry, Babe." He lowered his lips to mine and all of my irritation melted, just like that. Oh, he was a dangerous man.

"I love you, too. But you know, you aren't going to be able to get out of everything with a kiss like that," I said when we finally came up for air, trying to be stern.

Ranger just smiled, "How about a kiss like this?" and he bent me back over his arm and kissed me deeply until I'd forgotten my own name. "Or how about like this?" he asked against my lips, softening the kiss to just the barest of touches that sent electrical pulses to all the right places. He leaned in to whisper all sorts of suggestions in my ear making me blush from head to toe and smiled, "Lucky for me, I've got an arsenal of secret weapons."

I was breathless when I brought his mouth back to mine and answered, "Lucky for us both."

We kissed on the curb in front of Joe's house until he called my cell, threatening to arrest us for public indecency and trespassing if we didn't clear out. I was pretty sure he was joking, but to be safe, we let Bob back in the house and decided to move our celebration to my apartment. Ranger called into the office and told Tank he wasn't to be disturbed for the next 24 hours, but the look he gave me told me he wouldn't be able to get enough of me in a lifetime. I knew how he felt. Now that I had exactly what I wanted, I knew I'd never have to fear a life of 'What if's.' Not with this man by my side.

The End