I was going insane – slowly but gradually. And me saying I was going insane was…something, since I was used to insanity. Best example was my family and the job I did. When being a bounty hunter things automatically become slightly insane – for me at least. For people like the guy who was slowly driving me insane not so much.
Ranger was always in control. Never did a situation with an FTA ever get out of hand and mayhem never happened – opposite to my life as bounty hunter. Well… did I say never? Forget that, because last week was an exception. I am still not sure what happened and Ranger wasn't really big on details. All I did know was that the apprehension of an FTA went wrong and two of his men were left with several injuries and the man himself with a broken leg and four smashed fingers – and I'm almost certain there were a few injuries he wasn't telling me about,
After two days at the hospital he checked himself out – against doctor's orders – and Bobby practically had to blackmail him to bedrest at RangeMen. I was assigned to play nurse – though in a less kinky way – and learned quickly that Ranger and bedrest was not a good combination.
I came to wonder who was more frustrated: me with having to argue about why he had to stay put or Ranger with having to stay put. And on a weird level I got his frustration, I really did. I understood that for someone as active as Ranger – who got up at the crack of dawn every single day just to go running or spent several hours a week in the gym to hit something or run some more – bedrest was torture, but, well... they were doctor's orders.
I had just left him for a few moments to see what Ella had come up with for dinner when I returned to his bedroom, a laptop on his legs and him trying to type and failing miserable due to his four fingers in a cast. It actually looked comedic.
"Where did the laptop come from?" I asked curious, though I already knew the answer.
"Closet," came as his answer with a frustrated sound as he still tried typing.
"Ranger, the point of bedrest is to… well, rest, preferably in a bed. The clue's in the title," I explained, seeing him look at me stern. "You do realize the sooner you actually stick with it the sooner Bobby will clear you for work and saving the world."
"I hate not… doing anything useful…"
"When you are on vacation what do you do?" I asked.
"I don't do vacations, Babe."
Of course, should have known.
I sighed, sat down on his bed and pulled the laptop from his lap into mine.
"How about you dictate and I type?" I asked seriously. Typing was after all something I could do, and maybe it would stop us both from going insane.
"Babe, you are not my secretary," he said, sounding partly amused and also shocked.
"I know that. And as it looks I'm more like your nurse…" I replied with a grin.
There was silence for a moment, but I knew he would reply. It was an opportunity too good to pass.
"I guess I could find a dress shirt somewhere in my closet and some red marker to also make you look the part…" came his reply and it wasn't as flirtatious or dripping with double entendre as I expected it to be.
"I'll pass…And you and I know perfectly well that your dress shirts barely cover my butt…."
"And your problem with that would be…?"
"That it barely covers my ass!"
"From where I'm standing, or rather laying, you wouldn't wear that shirt long enough to worry about things like that…"
"Tempting," I said, laughing and therefore hopefully showing him it wasn't tempting at all. Truth was, it actually was tempting because I knew what this guy could do to you or your body.
"You know you want to," he almost cooed and I had maybe a small heart attack.
"I'm pretty certain your idea of bedrest and mine – or rather Bobby's – are slightly different. And I'm certain that isn't meant with bedrest. Especially seeing that it has nothing to do with rest."
"Usually you are all for breaking the rules, Babe, what happened?"
"Usually I don't have Bobby up my ass to make sure you do as instructed…"
"I can fire Bobby," he replied and for a moment I felt bad for Bobby, though I knew Ranger wouldn't. Bobby was too involved with RangeMan, too good and too hard to replace.
"And I can tie you to the bed …" I threatened playfully, realizing too late how that could have sounded.
"Now we are talking again…" Ranger replied and I let out a groan.
"Yes, and talking is all we do," I said, making sure he knew this wouldn't go further than talking. "You aren't up to or cleared for strenuous activities."
"If my wellbeing is your only concern I can let you do all the work," he almost grinned, and I hated what playful Ranger could do to me and my willpower.
"And yet you somehow would still manage to have all the power and do something mid-… mid-action that would result in me having to explain to Bobby what exactly you did and why I didn't stop you from hurting yourself. No thanks," I said, taking a few steps back, because Ranger and beds and me were …not a good combination to stay on path and not get tempted.
"Babe" he said and I took a few more steps back for good measure.
"How about you make a list of all the things you wanna do and… we'll work on it when you are cleared and off bedrest."
"That could be quite a list, Babe."
"Then you better start writing, Batman."
"That's a deal you won't get out of, Babe," I heard him say. I smiled at him challengingly before replying.
"Who says I want to?"
And then I left the bedroom just to be sure.
Just like that I might have found that one thing to convince Batman to stay in bed and have an incentive for speedy recovery.
THE END
