The song "You and Me" by P!nk and Dallas Green gave me the idea for this story. Everyone and everything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine. Warnings for a little smut.
"Babe, I need you."
"When? Where? And what should I be wearing?"
Considering how many times Ranger has come to my rescue, I'll run not walk if he calls needing me for something.
"If I wasn't in the middle of a job right now," he told me, "I'd have a different answer for two of those questions."
My face got a little warm at the thought of what he'd suggest I wear, and where he'd like to see me in it, if he wasn't busy. I'm guessing the answer to the first question would be "Now" either way.
"But since you are working ...?"
"I need you to put bullets in your gun, put your gun in your bag, and meet Tank outside. He's already on his way to get you."
"No short skirt or pushed-up cleavage?"
"Not for the job, but we can discuss an outfit change once it's over."
"Are you asking me out?"
"I'm opening the lines of communication," was his reply.
That's a start. Maybe we need to work up to an actual date ... or work out a little tension first.
"You may be sorry you said that," I warned him, since I plan on following up on it.
I'll do pretty much anything for Ranger, but I still had to ask.
"What's the likelihood of me dying today?"
"Chances are good we'll both be around to have dinner ... or something afterwards."
That's something to look forward to on many levels.
"I just need you to get the wife and kids out of the home of our FTA so Tank and I can get to the asshole without anyone getting hurt."
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"You'll think of something." And he hung up.
Okay, then.
In case Ranger is actually serious about an 'or something' later on, I'll try coming up with a plan of attack while I change my clothes. Tank doesn't like to be kept waiting anymore than Ranger does, so I did an abbreviated version of my 'I'm about to see Ranger' routine.
I switched out the underwear I had on for a super sexy, barely there red bra and panty set. If the Man of Mystery's hands or mouth mysteriously reached my underwear, I want it clear that we won't be stopping. I put on a pair of tight black jeans and a black tank top. I still look like part of the team, but I don't think having Ranger's company's name written across my boob will help the situation if the FTA conveniently doesn't remember he is one.
I re-ponytailed my hair, added mascara to my eyes and lip gloss to my lips, and stepped back into the kitchen. I glanced at Rex after I got my shoulder bag and my gun. He was stuffing his cheeks with pieces of a semi-stale cracker exactly like I'd been doing with a Tastykake when Ranger called.
"Wish me luck," I said to my roommate.
He twitched his whiskers at me, but he didn't offer any further encouragement. What's scary is that if my hamster suddenly started talking to me, it still wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened here.
Tank's huge black SUV was idling by my building's back door when I walked through it. He scanned my tank top and jeans as I slid into the passenger's seat.
"Your gun is where?" He asked.
"Tucked into my waistband."
He stared at me, not blinking at all.
I sighed. "Well ... it will be hidden there once we get to the skip's place. Right now it's loaded, but still in my bag."
He's probably mentally cursing Ranger, but I know just how uncomfortable it is to take a ride with a gun stuck in my pants. I don't get how guys can lug around something in theirs all day, every day. Of course, it's probably only distracting to the guy if his 'equipment' is big enough to notice.
If I don't ask any questions, I know the drive will be completely silent. Sometimes that helps my thinking process ... other times it's frustrating as hell. Today I'm content to leave Tank alone while I work out how the heck I'm going to do what Ranger asked me to.
The rundown house on the outskirts of Trenton looked like it should already have crime scene tape attached to it and cop cars blocking the driveway. Standard Operating Procedure is to park elsewhere when trying to catch a FTA off guard. When we passed the address, I saw pulled-down shades, Ranger's Cayenne, and another Rangeman vehicle parked two houses down. Ranger isn't playing. Once the 'hostages' are out of the way, this guy's getting his ass severely kicked.
Ranger materialized at my door with Bobby and Woody flanking him before I'd even climbed all the way down from Tank's ride. He'd parked us at the curb in front of a neighbor's house so we wouldn't be seen from the windows if someone was paranoid enough to be checking them.
"Now it's a party," he said, kissing my temple after I was done transferring my gun from my bag to my pants like I'd promised.
"You do know how to show a girl a good time," I told him, sliding my arm around his midsection in a hopefully not too obvious hug.
The guys all noticed the movement, though. Stupid super-senses.
"Don't you two get sick of being in each other's faces all the time?" Bobby asked us.
Hard to tell if that's an honest question or just him being a pain in the ass.
"Not so far," I told him. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"You are, Babe. The wife and kids were supposed to be at a relative's house, otherwise we'd have this wrapped up by now."
"I'm happy to help."
"If you work your magic and give us the skip, I'll give you something better tonight."
Places other than my armpits and palms got damp as I imagined the "magic" he can work in or out of leather.
"The last time I saw a woman blush like that, a cleaning woman at the hotel I was staying at walked in my room just as I was coming out of the bathroom naked," Woody felt the need to add.
My face returned to its normal shade of pale. I understand that the guys are hot and all, but I'd pay not to see any of them naked. The thought of Woody in anything except his Rangeman uniform makes me feel uneasy. I saw him once in a suit right before he left for his uncle's wedding, and I couldn't wrap my head around a RangeGuy looking almost like a 'normal' guy. The suit was even black so that really should've helped.
"I meant I'd buy you dinner, Steph," Ranger whispered in my ear, "but I can do one better if you're up for it."
"It seems like I'm up for anything today."
His eyes darkened. "I'm counting on it."
I'm counting on it, too. Guess I made the right choice when it came to an underwear swap.
"So ... what's this idiot's name? And what happens once I get him alone?" I asked.
"His name is Wesley Santaella. As soon as Woody and Bobby have the wife, daughters, and their son, Tank and I will take care of him. This isn't my first run-in with him and if he sees me, or someone who works for me, he'll fight his way out of there while trying to take out as many people as he can."
Great, now in the time it takes to get from here to the front door, I have to come up with a plan that won't get anyone I care about hurt. Not a friggin' problem at all, considering I haven't had any major brainstorms yet as to how I can accomplish that.
Ranger pressed a hard kiss to my mouth and then he and the guys disappeared as quickly as they'd appeared. I'm on my own now. Sort of. Ranger would never leave me alone when there's potential for trouble, and that knowledge had me feeling ten times more confident than I probably should be. Too bad I didn't have a foolproof way of getting inside the house by the time I knocked on the door. Somehow I don't think the old Girl Scout cookie routine will get me anywhere in this case.
Winging it has worked surprisingly well for me in the past, and I'm hoping my brain and mouth will cooperate one more time to help me out. I was thrown for a second when a little red-haired girl around six-years-old pulled open the door.
"I'm supposed to tell anybody who comes here to go away," she informed me, as I blinked rapidly trying to get my eyes to adjust from the sunny day I'd just left to the gloomy interior of the house in front of me.
"Is that what your parents said?" I asked her.
"Yeah."
"Where are they?"
"Upstairs. My dad is mad again. He's always mad at us for something. I told Mama we shouldn't ever come back, but ..." She shrugged.
Things here are completely out of her control and it broke my heart that not only does she already know that, she's accepted it.
"Where are your brother and sister?"
"They're hiding in the closet."
I glanced over her head to see into the house. I noticed what looks like a coat closet on the wall directly behind her.
"They're in there?" I said, pointing to the door behind her.
"Yeah. Mama pushed all of us in there when the swearing started and said to stay put until she came for us again, but then my dad yelled down to go get rid of you. I didn't know who I should listen to."
Oh this poor little girl. That explained why it took four knocks to get the door answered.
"You made the right decision. My friends and I are here to help and hopefully get your dad to calm down a little. Why don't you get your sister and brother, and they'll give you some snacks and then find you something to play with while I talk to your parents."
I waited through an uncomfortable moment while she sized me up, looking for any hint that I'm lying to her. It's clear she wants to believe me, but it's equally as obvious that her faith in adults has been tested too much already in her relatively short life.
"I promise, they're fun. Don't tell them I said this, but even though they're really big guys, they're even bigger teddy bears. I even call one of them 'Bobby Bear'. I'm sure he won't mind if you do, too."
Bobby may get me back for giving him that kind of nickname, but I have time before that happens because I know he'd never do anything around children that could possibly frighten them.
She considered that. "Okay."
She turned and after a nervous glance towards the stairs, she freed her siblings. Woody and Bobby were right there to scoop them up and get them the hell out of here.
"I'm going for their mom," I told Ranger, once the kids were being put into one of the vehicles.
I keep telling Ranger that I'm smart for keeping a snack and at least one candy bar in the glove compartment of every fleet vehicle I could find myself in. That should keep the kids happy for a few minutes. Who knows how long they were sitting in the closet before we got here, and there's no telling when they've eaten last.
"The men will take them back to their grandmother's house where the should've stayed in the first place," Ranger informed me. "As we'd planned, Tank's staying to help with Santaella and his wife."
Hopefully, we can get him secured without needing a meat wagon for anyone left behind. The house is still dead quiet and had that foreboding feeling that something's about to happen even if you aren't sure what.
"I'm heading in ..."
"Babe."
"I'll be fine. You and Tank are right behind me, remember? If you already think this guy's going to freak, it'll be better if I try to talk him down before you or Tank storm the shores and beat the stupid out of him."
"I don't want you alone with him. His temper isn't one to be underestimated. And I'd guess he's coming down from a pretty decent high."
"I'm not underestimating anything. I just want to get the wife ..."
"Her name's Adrian Santaella," Ranger told me.
"Thanks. Now I have a name to put with the face I'm about to see. She deserves a chance if she's willing to take our help."
I know from working with Ranger, and working for Rangeman, if there's a domestic abuse situation, he always provides security free of charge for the victims and their kids if they have any.
Ranger's body was still as he engaged in a mental war between believing in me and wanting to protect me. We were standing on the tiny porch and didn't have much time. I took his hand in mine and squeezed.
"It'll be okay. You and Tank can hang back a bit and let me do this. I bet I can deliver his ass to you in under five minutes."
I can tell he isn't worried any less about me, but he really doesn't want me to think he doesn't trust me to do a job he's always supported me in. Our entire friendship/partnership passed in front of our eyes before his lips finally twitched and he tipped his head in approval and also respect at me.
"Go get him, Tiger," he said, as Tank looked on in silence.
"I will. My clock's now ticking."
I smacked my lips to his and headed back into the house. I took a deep breath to get my heart rate back to normal and deliberately put one foot in front of the other until I made it to the stairs. I didn't hear any screaming, cursing, or cries for help, so either Adrian is not at all okay or she's just given up hope of getting out of this alive.
For all our sakes, I'm praying she's only being quiet to protect the children she probably believes are still nearby. I was proven right when I reached the top of the stairs and found the poor excuse for a 'master bedroom' and came face-to-face with the couple. Her beat up - and beaten down - green eyes appeared completely terrified above the busted up hand clamped across her mouth.
Santaella's eyes, on the other hand, were scary. I'm talking psychopath kind of scary. The lights are on in his brain but no one's been home for a while. I've encountered enough whack jobs during my time in bond enforcement to pick the certifiably crazy criminals out of a line up of just your everyday dumb ones.
"Who the fuck are you!?" He shouted at me.
So much for me keeping the peace here.
"I'm here to help you if you'll let me."
While Wesley's right hand was keeping his wife from speaking, his left hand wound so tightly in the hair that matched her children's exactly, I was worried he'd rip it out if I say the wrong thing.
"Get the fuck outta my house," he ordered me.
I shook my head. "No can do. Not without her."
"I don't need this shit anymore. Take the bitch. She ain't nothin' to me, been a pain in my fucking ass since the day I married her."
He glared down at the tiny woman in front of him before he flung her at me. There was a lot of anger and a fair amount of strength behind the shove. She landed with a thud against me, causing me to be knocked off balance. We hit the uncarpeted floor hard, and before I could get to my feet again, the prick came at us with something that looks like a medieval torture device. I know Ranger is probably right outside the room and he really won't be happy about someone pulling a weapon on me, so this could go from an apprehension to a homicide if I don't do something quick.
I pushed the woman behind me and closer to the door while freeing my gun. I wasn't BS-ing Tank. I no longer take chances with my life or anyone else's. I walk into every situation prepared. In my periphery, I saw movement in the hall and knew I'd have immediate backup. I'm still hoping not to need it, though.
I scooted cautiously to the side and pointed my gun at our FTA's head. As I'd hoped, his mean little eyes stayed on me, giving Ranger time to pull the woman all the way out of the room. I held my gun tight in two hands and tried to keep the guy distracted until the coast was clear to make a grab for him. Unfortunately, I was the distracted one when he made an aggressive move towards me with the weird-looking cutters.
"Are you fucking nuts?" I asked him. "You do realize that I can shoot you, don't you? This isn't a friggin' water gun."
"You won't shoot me, though ... will you, cupcake?"
The nickname I associate with Morelli isn't going to help his chances of getting out of this uninjured. In fact, I may tag him once in the leg just for calling me that.
"Put the blade thing down, and I won't," I said. "If you don't ..."
His weapon of choice does look freakin' scary. I'd say it's some type of old-fashioned grass or weed clipping tool. It has two triangular blades that slide together in a way similar to how scissors work. Even dull they can probably do major damage to someone's skin if that's the intent of the person holding them.
Well ... I'm not in the mood to be chopped into pieces or endure another tetanus shot today. He doesn't know it, but I have a secret weapon - Ranger - waiting just outside the bedroom, and I'm sure as hell not afraid to let him or his anger loose on this a-hole.
Santaella is a no-class prick, and for once I don't feel at all bad for what Ranger is likely about to do to him. I may be pissed, but I'm not the least bit scared of Wesley, even with him wielding a weapon that belongs in a shed not a freakin' bedroom. Come to think of it, there isn't much I am afraid of if I've got Batman in my corner. Being afraid for him is another matter. And I don't want him to get stabbed or cut anymore than I want to be.
Good thing Ranger and I have worked together a lot, so we don't necessarily have to say anything to each other in order to take this asshole down. I chanced one sideways glance at him, and with just his eyes he let me see what he's going to do. I was then able to figure out what I should do to help. It was like he was guiding my movements with his mind as I purposely lowered my gun slightly, letting the skip think he was gaining the upper hand, and then I butt-scooted over a few more inches so his back would be to Ranger.
I wanted to nod that I was ready, but he was already moving when Wesley's arm drew back to take another swipe at me. My guy grabbed the skip's wrist and twisted it so hard, the torture device fell to the floor and I swear I heard something besides Ranger's temper snap.
"Son of a bitch!" Santaella shrieked.
"If anyone's a bitch," Ranger told him, "it's you ... hiding behind your wife and kids. I should use that tool to cut your dick off so your body will mirror what a dickless asshole you are."
Despite the state of his skip's wrist, Ranger still cuffed him, and wasn't at all gentle about it when he did.
"Nicely done, Babe."
"Thank you. Your timing was pretty good, too."
"Tank's taking the wife to see her kids before he escorts her to the station to press formal charges this time," he told me. "Hector's en route to the grandmother's house to set up security in case Vinnie decides to get him released again. We're bringing Santaella in. The cops can patch him up if they want. At the moment, I'm not feeling especially charitable towards him."
"I'm ready whenever you are."
I'm fine now, but it's what may happen when we no longer have someone between us, or something work-related to do, that has my stomach suddenly doing flip-flops. I could've been gutted without doing more than get angry, but confront me with something potentially heart-breaking and I want to turn tail and run.
Ranger and I both have a truckload of issues, but having that in common seems to make us understand where each other is coming from most of the time. Maybe it wasn't just Connie that brought the two of us together.
According to Lester - the resident Rangeman gossip - I'm Ranger's Achilles' heel ... and he's my anchor when I'm about to fly off half-cocked. I center him on those rare times his emotions come to the surface, and he's right there when I need advice or just a chest to cry on. If we can stop screwing things up by placing unnecessary expectations on each other, I bet we'd have the perfect relationship.
Our friendship is right up there with mine and Mary Lou's, but it's the weird, hormone-driven times like this one when our flirting and innuendo leads us into the dark, scary, issue-laden territory that exists somewhere between 'friends' and 'coupledom'.
We've done the sex thing a few times, but each of us at different times dove back behind the we're just friends shield shortly after. I'm still not sure if that's what will happen tomorrow morning. I suppose I could just ask him, but that'd require actually talking about wanting him in a way I always fought Morelli on.
I started to sweat. Way to be a grown-up, Stephanie, I said to myself. You can get naked with the guy, yet you can't tell him that you love him?
"Babe?"
I jumped. He can't really read minds, can he?
"We're here," he told me.
I shook my head to clear it and looked out my window. Yep, he's right. We're at the TPD.
"Do you want to come in or wait here?" Ranger asked. "I didn't call ahead to find out if Morelli's working."
"Joe and I can sort of interact without him losing too much blood."
At the time we split, Morelli wanted to end things between us, too. Unfortunately for him, he changed his mind a week and a half after our break-up ... and I definitely didn't. He wasn't too happy when he left my apartment that night, frustrated in more ways than one.
I may have made things worse by suggesting he relieve some of that 'frustration' by sticking something of his somewhere very uncomfortable. I felt lighter that night than I did after shedding my doughnut pounds. Turns out, without Morelli in my life, I don't need to eat my annoyances anymore.
"On second thought," I said, thinking that if I get myself locked up it could ruin our night, "maybe I'll just stay here and keep your car company."
He gave me a brief nod. "Good answer. I might have had to kill him if he looked at you in anger or in lust. I'll be right back."
He tugged a sweating and slightly out of it Wesley from the backseat, and fifteen minutes later, he was back ... and so were my nerves.
"Relax, Babe," he told me before refastening his seatbelt. "Nothing is going to happen that you don't okay first."
Great ... now he thinks I'm either a tease or a chickenshit. I don't want to be either one. My eyes narrowed. Too bad I can't aim them at myself unless I look in a mirror. I don't like being afraid of anything, especially the man I'd die for.
"I think I already okay'd tonight," I said.
He plugged the key into the ignition, but we didn't move even after he started the car.
"You can change your mind at anytime," he told me. "You know I want you, but we both have to feel good about that."
"I want you, too. More than ever actually."
He looked doubtful. Time to haul out the big guns.
"Does this look like I didn't know what I was agreeing to?" I asked, sliding the neckline of my tank top down so he could get a good look at the skimpy red strap and a peek at the semi-sheer, lacy material that was covering but not really covering my nipple.
He reached out, curled a hand around the back of my neck, and yanked me across the console to him. The kiss was hot, deep, and delicious. It took us from a slow simmer to a rolling boil and burned up any residual doubts I had about us. If I hadn't already put my gun back in my bag, I'm pretty sure it would've melted into my skin.
If we're meant to happen, we will. Before we reach the end of the night, I'll let him know that I'm ready for us to, but if he's not there yet, I won't force him into something like Morelli always tried to do with me.
When Ranger separated our lips, only one word was needed. "Drive," I told him.
For the first time ever, he was the one following an order. And he did that freaky thing he does at any red light we got close to so it changed to green before he had to slow down. We were pulling into the Rangeman garage before I really registered the fact that we'd even reached Haywood Street.
"Last chance," he said, shutting down the Cayenne but keeping the key in his hand, probably hoping he won't need it again to drive me home in two minutes.
He won't.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" I asked.
"No."
I smiled at his answer and opened my door. He met me by the front bumper and I held out my hand to him. When he took it and laced our fingers, I was tempted to rush the stairs just to get to the seventh floor faster, but even though I can't seem to come right out and ask for a long-term relationship - not yet anyway - I need him to see that while my hormones are running amok right now, they aren't the sole decision-makers tonight. His hormones are a different story.
He flashed his fob to get us to the penthouse and then moved to the area of the elevator with the least camera coverage in case it chose this moment not to do what it's told and turn off immediately when he hit the other button on his fob. He snagged my wrist and encouraged me to invade his personal space. Ranger is always thinking of me first, even when it's not needed, and he made sure to put his body between me and the non-existent control room eyes before fitting his mouth to mine again.
The kiss wasn't hurried, but every cell in my body came alive at the contact. I whimpered pathetically when he drew back as the elevator came to a stop. I really wanted him to continue kissing me.
"We have all night, Steph," he whispered against my lips.
Seems I'm not the only who enjoyed the lip-play. I'm probably going to regret opening my mouth for anything other than Ranger's tongue, but he gave me the perfect opportunity. I took a calming breath, hiked up my imaginary cojones, and just asked what I'd been scared to know.
"Is there going to be more between us than just tonight?" I asked.
He'd moved his head back, but he stayed close and used his thumb to stop the assault I'd started on my lower lip. He soothed the now puffy skin after my teeth let it go.
"There is if that's what you want," he told me, leading the way to his door.
"What about you?"
"I've already said what I want ... and it's you. I'm prepared to have you any way I can get you ... in spurts or every day. The ball's always been in your court."
"Hmm, where have I heard that before?"
"From me during a similar discussion."
I leaned against the door jamb as he unlocked his apartment. "We really need to stop conversating, don't we?"
"That's not a real word."
He pushed the door open and gestured me inside. Let the games begin ...
"No games, Babe. Not this time."
"I said that out loud?"
"Yes."
"Even my brain has a big mouth."
"Your brain is fine and your mouth is perfect the way it is, though it does get even better when it's on me."
Alrighty then.
"Ask and you shall receive," I said, and kissed him once he got the door locked behind us.
That backfired on me, because I suddenly needed him like my lungs needed air. Our lips reluctantly released the other's only when oxygen did become a real concern. He attempted to use the moment to get us to the bedroom, but before he took more than two steps, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his cargo pants.
I pressed my front to his back once he stopped moving, tugged his t-shirt out of his pants, and quickly peeled it off his ripped body so I could see and touch more of it.
"Yours, too," he told me.
Apparently we're both issuing orders today.
"You won't move?" I asked.
"No."
I smiled into his back, then released him just long enough to pull my tank top over my head.
"Lose the bra while you're at it."
"Don't you want to see it on me first? I did pick this one with you in mind."
"I can see it. And although you look beautiful, I'll always prefer your skin to anything covering it."
He can see me? I looked to my left and sure enough we were lined up with the mirror that hangs over the sideboard. His eyes met mine, and like he promised, he didn't move. Only one eyebrow lifted as he waited for me to get as undressed as he is.
I reached behind me and undid each hook slowly, watching him watch my breasts spill out of the cups. After I dropped my sexy bra onto the carpet, I moved in close again until my breasts were pressed into the muscles of his back. I circled as much of his torso as I could and cupped his pecs in my hands, squeezing his nipples experimentally before skimming my hands along his bare chest and down every single ab ridge.
I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid my fingers inside. He was hard and impressive ... and also mine for a lot longer than a night.
"Your pants, then mine," he told me.
My head made a negative motion as my face went back to the indentation of his spine. So what if my tongue came out at the same time and I happened to be tasting him while defying him.
"That's not very practical, Ranger. Your pants are already half off."
"Stephanie ..."
I did the licking thing again just to poke the bear. "Uh-oh. You called me Stephanie. Am I in trouble?"
Not only was I pushing Ranger's buttons, I was also pushing his cargoes further away from him so his entire length was free to play with.
"You have no idea," was all the warning I got.
He spun, undid my jeans with one hand, and shoved them and my underwear down. I didn't have a chance to recover, because he curled an arm around me, letting his hand dip between my legs before he set my now bare butt on the sideboard.
My thumping heart made as much noise as Ranger's keys had when he'd carelessly tossed them into the silver dish next to me. Ranger always has the upper hand, and boy does he know how to use that hand. His mouth came down on mine and he removed my boots, socks, and the clothes that had made it down to my knees, and then he nudged my thighs apart so he could fit between them. They moved wider on their own when he started to slide into me.
I was already gasping his name when he scooted me to the edge of the wooden surface just so the tip and base of him would continuously rub the spots that have become the current center of my world.
"We really do belong together, don't we?" I asked on a breath-catch.
A small bead of sweat slid from his temple and down the side of his face, landing on my breast as upped his tempo and drove himself deeper into me.
"Yes. We were the only ones too stupid to see it," he told me.
I leaned back on two hands when he licked the sweat drop from my flushed skin. I crossed my ankles behind him to keep him right where he was.
"Until now?" I asked him.
"Until now."
And then he started rolling his hips into mine with a purpose, and we came together as we fell apart.