None of the Characters below belong to me. I just gave myself an early present by taking them from JE to play with them myself.
A Thousand Words
She was exhausted. Stephanie loved her family and was happy to take her nieces for the day to give Valerie a chance to do some Christmas shopping without any nosy eyes following her every move. Now all Stephanie wanted to do was curl up and collapse on the couch for a few hours. How did Valerie do it all day every day? In theory, Stephanie was in better shape than her sister, but apparently her stamina was nothing compared to the older and heftier sibling. That was slightly embarrassing. Refusing to admit that Valerie was better at yet one more thing, Stephanie forced herself off the sofa and looked around her apartment for inspiration of what to do other than lounge.
Honestly, the day had gone well with the girls. They'd spent the better part of it playing at the park until Angie got the idea of what they should do for presents for everyone in the family. She'd wanted to take pictures of things that either reminded her of someone or something she thought the person would like. Stephanie had dusted off her digital camera, and after a brief lesson imparting all her photo taking knowledge in under thirty seconds, she'd let her oldest niece run around snapping pictures of everything from a carousel of horses—for Mary Alice—to a good-looking man—for Grandma Mazur.
It had been a great way to spend a few hours, driving around trying to find locations or objects that would be appealing to each person on Angie's list. Mary Alice even got into it, and for the rest of the day, the two girls, who often struggled to get along, seemed to be united in hunting down the perfect picture for each person they cared about. Before taking them back home, Stephanie stopped by CVS, popped the memory card in the instant photo printer, and ran off all forty-three pictures. For less than ten bucks, she'd managed to keep her nieces occupied and helped them complete their Christmas shopping.
Stephanie sighed at how easy it was for them to check off every name on their list. She envied that, especially since she had yet to manage a single gift for the most important people in her life. Her family was easy because their tastes never seemed to change, and Stephanie knew exactly what gift would be received well and understood as expressing her love for the recipient. Food was the simplest way to say "I love you" in the Plum household, so she went with what worked and was done with them in less than half an hour.
But they weren't the ones she would classify as the most important gifts to purchase. For several years now, she'd had an association of sorts with RangeMan. At first, it was just the unique mentor relationship with Ranger, but as she grew closer to him, he opened his company to her as well. She'd fought it at first, already feeling like a drain on his time and hating the idea that he had a line item in his budget devoted to taking care of her when she got in over her head. The fact that it was deemed entertainment stung a little, but her desire to be around Ranger in some capacity overrode her usual pride in not allowing something that insulting to be said about her.
At first, it was just the occasional guy who was tasked with delivering a new set of wheels when one of her cars went to vehicle heaven. Then she noticed a rotating schedule of bodyguards and shadows when she managed to pick up a stalker. But once he brought her into the office and taught her how to run searches and background checks, she would float in periodically when her checkbook needed a little help in meeting her expenses. Unfortunately, over the last six months, she'd found her checkbook needed help more often than it didn't, so she was, for all practical purposes, a three-quarter-time employee. The guys had been after her to just make it official and join them full-time, but so far, she'd held back.
Partly it was because she feared she'd have to keep regular office hours, which would mean living with an alarm clock again. Then there was the fear that Ranger would require her to meet the same standards as the rest of his employees. She'd seen the guys' skills and knew there was no amount of training the world that would ever allow that to be possible. She wasn't in their league, and she didn't want to bring down the RangeMan name by putting on the uniform.
That didn't mean she hadn't enjoyed getting to know the guys during the hours she spent there. It took a while. At first, most of them were quiet and didn't seem to know what to make of her. But little by little, she'd won them over. Either that, or she'd worn them down. It all depended on one's point of view. Now, it was hard to get her inbox cleaned out each day because they would stop by and talk to her. Who knew the men who rarely used complete sentences a year ago could ramble for nearly an hour now about anything from their love life to politics?
She complained about them keeping her from working, knowing it was lie. She loved hearing them talk and felt honored each time one of them asked for her opinion or advice. Regardless of why they stopped by, she'd come to care for each one of them little by little and now found herself at a loss about how to give them something that would tell the guys she appreciated them, their acceptance of her, and that she enjoyed the time they'd spent letting her get to know them. There aren't any gift baskets filled with delectable treats that could convey that much, which had her back to the problem at hand.
She had enough money for rent already in the bank, but since she had a dozen guys to buy for and her discretionary funds were a whopping two hundred and fifty dollars, she needed to come up with appropriate gifts with an average price of twenty bucks. Stephanie flopped back on the sofa and blew an errant curl out of her face. It was an impossible task.
She picked up the closest catalogue from the coffee table and flipped through the glossy images, looking for gift ideas in her price range: CDs, old movies, corkscrews, flash drives in cute shapes… Nothing fit.
She tossed the magazine on the floor and then leaned over to pick it up and return it to the coffee table so she didn't accidently step on it and slip because of the slick pages. When she looked at the back, she saw an array of picture frames of various shapes and sizes and couldn't help but laugh when she saw that they could be personalized for the reasonable price of fifteen dollars.
An empty frame was not a great gift, but it might be a good place to start. Then her mind flashed back to all the pictures her nieces had taken and the thought they'd put into each one. Stephanie picked up the camera and flipped through the snapshots, smiling as she remembered the justification for some of them. Could she come up with an image for each of the guys and then frame the picture in a personalized frame with some message that related? Would they appreciate it, or would they think of it as a cheap present and wonder why she'd bothered?
Deciding to not overanalyze the idea just yet, she grabbed a beer from the fridge and a legal tablet to jot down ideas and names. Of course, Ranger was at the top, quickly followed by his closest friends: Tank, Lester, and Bobby. Strangely, the next name she added was Hector, who she couldn't understand at all, but she still respected because he always seemed to appear when she was stuck with something in a system, and he would miraculously fix it, kissing her hand before he walked away. Then she added Cal and Hal, smiling at how she always seemed to think of them together, simply because their names rhymed. They couldn't be more opposites, but in her head, there was the association she couldn't stop. Ram, Woody, Manny, Junior, and Binkie rounded out the list. There were lots of other guys around the office, but these twelve were the ones that always seemed to seek her out, that went out of their way to talk to her, and some grouping or another would show up every time she had trouble, from a rough takedown, to an exploding car – one of her Merry Men would show up.
In the time it took her to come up with the list of names, she'd finished her beer, so she hopped up and grabbed another, rationalizing that it was fortified with wheat, yeast, and sugar. Honestly, all it needed was cinnamon to be one of her favorite breakfast toasts, so she'd consider this her dinner for the night.
After she finished the second drink, she decided it would take one more to fill her up, so she kept tipping it back while making notes of possible pictures that would be meaningful to each of the guys on her lists and then trying to come up with something that would match the sentiment to be engraved on the simple frame.
By the time she was ready for bed, she had ideas for every guy on the list and had gone through four Sam Adams Winterfest beers. It wasn't her favorite brew, but Joe had brought it over the last time they watched a game together, and it seemed like a shame to throw it out.
She looked at the list again and wondered if she should add Joe to it. No, they had decided months ago that they were only friends. He had an Italian family of his own to provide food for him, so he didn't need an edible gift basket to wish him a happy holiday, and she couldn't come up with something appropriate for his frame, so she decided to just wish him a Merry Christmas and maybe find a way to introduce him to the new librarian in town. She thought they would hit it off, and Joe was a lot more likely to get the point that she appreciated him as her friend if she fixed him up with a woman who seemed to want the same things in life he did.
The next morning, she rolled out of bed and picked up her camera and the list she'd made the night before. She decided to order the frames later. Right now, there was a small marching band going through her brain, and she knew a large Coke and fries from McDonald's would take care of the pounding. Apparently, straight beer was not the best dinner idea she'd ever had.
After the salt, grease, and caffeine did the trick, she took off in pursuit of the first item on the list: a swing set. Quickly, she read down each idea and wondered if this was a huge mistake. They'd all felt inspired last night, but in the morning sun – well, the midday light was probably more accurate – she wasn't as convinced this was a good idea.
Not having anything else to do, she got out of the car and decided if she could easily get the picture she had in mind, she'd go with it, and if she couldn't capture it, she'd give up and order them all flash drives that looked like spent shell casings instead. This way, it was in fate's hand to decide if this was a horrible idea or not.
Fortunately, it was too cold for any kids to be at the park, so she didn't have to worry about anyone staring at her when she lay down on the ground and looked straight up, happy to see that the sky was blue with just a few wisps of clouds overhead. Reaching up, she pushed the swing, taking a few tries to finally figure out how to make it move in a way that looked natural despite no one sitting in it to weigh it down. She clicked off a few shots each time it flew above her camera lens and then looked at what she'd captured, surprised at the neat effect of the moving swing, clearly defined, but slightly blurred from the movement. However, the clouds in the perfect sky were crystal clear. If she was hoping her lack of a good shot would tell her this was a bad idea, that plan had backfired. Seeing that she had somehow captured exactly what she wanted inspired her to move down to the pond to try for gold again.
By the time the sun was setting, she had gotten the swing picture for Hal, the fishing pond for Woody, a single bird in flight for Ram, an American Flag being blown in the wind for Junior, a case of cannoli for Hector, a small handgun on a baby blanket for Binkie, a set of clasped hands from a very elderly couple for Manny, and for Cal, a tattoo that covered the entire back of the woman who owed Inked, the tattoo parlor near the west side. She was a stunning woman, and when Stephanie explained that she hoped to get a picture of a female with an interesting tattoo for her friend, the woman had literally taken off her shirt and turned around, revealing the most intricate full-color design Stephanie had ever seen. It was perfectly offset by her feminine figure, and the detail just popped on her viewfinder screen.
Somehow, the more pictures she took, the more energy she seemed to get, so when she lost her light from the sun, she begrudgingly went back home, relieved to see she gotten so many on the first day, leaving only the core team and Ranger to finish tomorrow. To pass the time before bed, she ordered every frame she needed and paid the extra money to rush them so she was guaranteed to receive them before the holiday.
Her Grandpa Mazur used to tell her that if something was given with love and thought, then it was impossible to give a bad gift. She hoped he was right, because the closer it got to the big day, the more excited she became to see if the guys would understand her presents. She figured as a worst-case scenario, they'd have a nice frame they could use for a photo of someone they cared about, so she could always say that was the real present if the pictures she'd taken fell flat.
The morning before Christmas, she packed the large box of gifts in the passenger side of her 2006 Honda Accord and drove carefully to Haywood. After she parked in the space that never seemed to have a car in it, she just sat there. The box was pretty heavy, so she wasn't sure how to get it in gracefully. It had taken her three rest breaks to get it from her living room down to the parking lot, and that was with her pulling the car right up to the door.
Standing at the passenger side door, she was trying to figure out if it might make more sense to just put two in her pocketbook and carry two in her arms and then make three trips to get them all.
Before she could make up her mind, the stairway door opened and she heard Lester's unmistakable voice call out to her, "Hey, Beautiful. Please tell me you're coming upstairs to see us. The office is way too quiet and needs the kind of holiday cheer only you can provide."
"What kind of cheer is that?" she wondered.
He pulled out a small sprig of mistletoe and held it over her head, wagging his eyebrows. She'd gotten up extra early and had gone through nearly an entire pot of coffee to wake herself up and get the courage to bring the gifts in, so she was feeling uncharacteristically punchy. That was her justification for spinning around, framing his face with her palms, and kissing him right on the lips. Apparently, her calling his bluff surprised him, because he didn't try to deepen the kiss and it wasn't until she pulled back that he even managed to get his arms fully around her.
"Damn, Beautiful," Les whispered. "I knew I'd been good this year, but I had no idea I'd been good enough for that kind of present."
"That's not your present," Stephanie teased him, glancing back at the box of brightly wrapped gifts in the car.
"You're shitting me," he said, with an edge to his voice she didn't recognize. "You got us real presents, like with bows and paper to rip off."
"It's not much..." She hated to cut into his obvious awe at the idea of getting a present, but she wanted to set the expectation to the right level. "You guys have been so great to me, and I had to do something so you'd all know what you mean to me."
"Not much?" he repeated her warning, sounding doubtful. "It could be an empty box and you'd still have made my Christmas." Without asking permission, he stepped around her and easily lifted the box from the car, balancing it on his forearm as he moved toward the elevator. When she seemed to follow too slowly, he grinned at her over the top of the cardboard and motioned with his free hand for her to hurry up. "Come on," Les encouraged. "I can see my name on one and I want to see what's inside."
Seeing his enthusiasm was what she imagined most kids on Christmas looked like. Not for the first time in her life, she envied her sister. Stephanie didn't want her own kids, but the idea of seeing this on little faces was kind of appealing.
They rode in the elevator together, with Lester easily carrying the package she'd struggled with, while still managing to bounce on his toes.
As soon as the door opened, Cal called out, "Now it's Christmas, Stephanie's here!"
There were a few other cheers from various cubicles, and Stephanie was eager to get to her desk and away from the spotlight.
"Where do you want these?" Les asked, giving her a reason to head to her cubicle. He set the box on the floor against the wall and then looked at her and down to the presents before looking back up at her once more.
"Go ahead and take yours," she instructed, only pretending to be put out by being rushed to let him have his gift.
Without needing to be told twice, he reached in and yanked out the present with his name on it. He moved to lean against her desk and then tore the paper off, letting the scraps fall to the floor. The comparison of him to a kid on Christmas morning was becoming more and more apt.
After he got the paper off he, looked at the box, which was just plain white and gave nothing away. He slowed at that point and ran his hand over the top before looking up at Stephanie and smiling. "Thank you."
"You don't know what's in it yet, so don't say thank you until you see if you like it," she warned.
"Doesn't matter if it's empty or the keys to a brand new car. You gave me a Christmas present, and I love it," he explained, making her eyes fill with water that she struggled to keep from spilling out. "A real present from somebody I'm not related to..." He still seemed to be in awe.
Finally, he seemed to snap out of the daze he'd been in and carefully opened the box, pulling out the tab and slowly removing the bubble wrap-covered frame. Stephanie found herself wishing he was still unwrapping this with the same gusto he'd used in getting the initial paper off. When he eventually got it uncovered, he turned the frame to see the front and let his eyes take it all in. She could see him reading the inscription – "Beautiful" – and then looking over the picture she'd taken.
"How did you…" His voice seemed to break off, and he moved one hand to cover his lips while he continued to stare at the photo of two kids sitting on a park bench with their heads leaning against each other. The little girl had long curly hair, completely wild and a near exact replica of what Stephanie's hair had looked like when she was young. The boy next to her had dirty blond spikes and dark tan skin. It hadn't been what Stephanie had initially planned on capturing for Lester, but when she happened upon these kids in the park, she remembered a night she and Les were working surveillance together. He was picking on her mercilessly, and Stephanie accused him of being a kid trapped in a man's body. He didn't respond at first, and she'd spent several minutes silently trying to figure out if she'd said something wrong.
When he'd broken the silence, she'd been relieved to hear him explain. "You know, if we'd known each other when we were kids, I bet we would have been best friends. I would have watched over you, and you would have stood up for me, and we would have been inseparable."
She'd laughed and pointed out, "Except that you were no doubt mobbed with friends, and I would have been just one more girl in your fan club."
Steph had been surprised when he didn't laugh along with her. "It wasn't like that when I was real little. My dad was Hispanic and my mom was Greek – two proud cultures that didn't appreciate you mixing. So until I hit a major growth spurt in high school, I was just the mixed kid, too dark to be white, too white to be dark, and not fitting in either place."
Her heart had seized for the idea of a young Lester, alone with few friends because of his mixed heritage and the cruel way children treated those who weren't like them. "I would have liked knowing you back then. It would have been nice to have somebody in my corner too."
While Stephanie was remembering the conversation, Lester had been staring at the picture. "Where did you find two kids who look so much us?"
"Luck," she answered honestly. "I came across them in the park and couldn't stop staring, so I snapped their picture from behind, hoping it would convince me to move on. Then when I printed it off, I thought they were so adorable and your comments from a few months back about how we would have been great friends if we'd know each other then popped in my mind, and I decided to give them to you. Feel free to take the picture out and put something else in there, but I had to give it to you so you'd know I was listening."
"No way am I taking this picture out," he quickly corrected her. "This is the most… It's the best…" Les looked Stephanie in the eye, and all the emotions the simple picture brought up in him were on display for her to see. He was touched she'd remembered, he was honored that she seemed to feel the same way, and he regretted that the little boy inside of him never had the chance to know the little girl she once was.
"What's important is that we're here now, right?" she questioned, hoping to help get rid of the trace of pain in his eyes. "I'll stand up for you anytime, anyplace," she promised as she put her hand on his arm.
He smiled and set the frame down so he could cover her hand with his to reply, "And I'll always watch over you." Lester knelt in front of her and threw his arms around her waist in a tight hug, with his head in her lap. She wasn't used to such public displays, but she didn't hesitate to return the gesture and rubbed his back with one hand, while moving the other up to dishevel some of the spikes in his hair. "Thank you." His voice was mumbled by his face against her legs. "This is the best present I've ever gotten, and I'm going to put it on my desk so everybody can see it."
"You don't have to," she told him. "If you'd rather keep it in your apartment downstairs, that's okay."
He pulled back just enough to speak clearly. "No way. I want to see it every day while I'm here, and I want everybody else to see it too."
"I'm glad you like it," she said, placing a chaste kiss on the back of his head.
"I love it," he assured her, reluctantly pulling away and picking up the frame and box, holding them to his chest as though protecting something precious. With that, he looked at her once more with a genuine smile on his face and then turned to move to his desk.
"Hey, what had the goofy guy so…spacey?" Cal asked, walking into her area as Les walked away.
"I think he just got hit with a little Christmas spirit," Stephanie answered, humbled at how much her simple gift seemed to mean to him.
When she looked back, Cal was staring at the big box on the floor, still full of presents. "And by Christmas spirit, do you mean something from that box?"
Figuring it was easier to give him his gift than to explain what had just happened with Les, she dug in and found Cal's near the bottom of the pile. "Here." She held out his present, feeling unsure if what she'd captured for Cal would be well received.
Much like the man before him, Cal ripped the paper, carelessly discarding it on the floor at their feet. When he pulled out the frame, he grinned and confessed, "I love bubble wrap." Then, to make his point, he caused a few of the small bubbles to pop, making their hallmark sound and causing his face to split in a grin.
Once he managed to pull his attention from the protective wrapping, he turned the frame over and looked at the woman's back captured in the photograph. Steph had managed to get just the side of her face, as her head was turned, with her long blond hair slung over her shoulder to better display the tattoo. Cal's fingers traced over the eagle's wings and then moved down the filigree to the small flaming skull at the bottom of her back.
"Holy hell. Flaming Fred has never looked this sexy," Cal confessed, his voice sounding thin.
"I know you don't know her, but when I went in her shop and told her about you and the conversation we had that day when we were working monitors together, she agreed to let me take the picture as my gift to you," she explained.
About a month ago, during a particularly dull monitor shift, she and Cal were discussing his tattoo, and he commented that he was glad to have it, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was part of why he was still single. He'd never met a person who thought of Fred as good-looking.
As Cal continued to look hypnotized by the snapshot, Stephanie remembered the business card the shop owner had given him. "She's working today until seven, so if you want to thank her for posing for the picture, she'd love to meet you."
He took the business card and looked at the name, then glanced back up at the frame once more, touching the engraving of the word: "Hope."
"So there's hope for me after all," Cal mumbled.
"I never doubted that, but I figured you might appreciate getting a little for Christmas," she explained. "You don't have to keep the picture; feel free to put something you like in the frame."
"No way is this coming out of the frame," Cal said, instantly putting that idea down. "You are…amazing."
"It's just a picture," Stephanie reminded him, "and a phone number, but you still have to figure out the rest yourself."
"Oh I can figure it out all right," Cal agreed. "Just knowing I don't have to explain away my tat is enough to get me over there as soon as my shift is over." He took a step away, but then moved back over and hugged her. It was a little awkward because he was standing up and Stephanie was seated, but the strength in his arms and the way he repeated, "Thank you," three times made it clear that he liked his gift.
As Cal walked away, Hector happened to walk by, so Stephanie called out his name.
He moved into her cubicle, his eyes glancing to the packages in the box, but he didn't linger there, looking at her computer instead.
"¿Problema con el ordenador?"
"What?" She had no idea what he'd asked, but since he was pointing to her computer, she guessed he assumed there was a problem with it. "I haven't turned it on yet today, but I have something for you."
She picked up the bright red package on top. "Feliz Navidad," she said, handing the package to him, hoping she'd gotten the words right after listening to that song nearly everywhere she'd gone lately.
Hector took a half step backward, like he expected the package to explode. Stephanie really wished she'd paid better attention in Spanish class in high school and hadn't wasted her time looking at the back side of the jock that sat in front of her. She moved forward in her seat slightly, hoping it wouldn't make him run.
"¿Para mí?" He pointed to the package and then to his chest, so Stephanie nodded that it was for him. He reached out slowly and took it gently from her hand. She patted the top of her desk, where Lester and Cal had leaned, to encourage him to stay and open the box as well.
Taking the hint, he moved to rest against the surface and then carefully slit the tape with a knife he pulled out of thin air. Once he had all the tape out of the way, he put the knife in a side pocket of his pants and removed the paper, folding it to the side like he wanted to preserve every part of the gift. With the same kind of intentional movements, he took the safety wrap off the frame and then sat it atop the wrappings before looking at the gift. His face went from serious concentration to a full-on grin. It was the first time she'd seen such unfiltered happiness on him and couldn't help but note he was an attractive man. Sure, the tear tattoos at his eye were a bit intimidating, but Hector had always been the perfect gentleman with her, and in her heart, she knew there was a tender man under the rough exterior.
"Delicioso," he said, reading the inscription at the bottom, still grinning.
Stephanie had had two cannoli for dessert with her lunch a few weeks ago when she'd managed to lock up her system by trying to run too many requests at once. Hector came up to help her get back online, and to thank him, she'd let him have one of the pastries. He'd seemed hesitant, but once he'd finally accepted her offer and taken a bite, his eyes had closed and he'd moaned before saying that single word. Then he'd opened his eyes and looked at the treat closer before saying, "También se ve bien." She'd tried to remember the sounds and had had Lester translate it later so she understood that Hector thought the dessert was delicious and that it looked good too. She recalled the teasing look on his face when he said it, and since she knew Hector was gay, she had a feeling it was a bit of a sexual innuendo.
"I remembered you liked the taste and the way it looked," she said to explain the image, wishing he could understand her. "So, I thought I'd give you a whole case of them to look at whenever you wanted to."
At that, Hector laughed and knelt down, set the frame down, then took both her hands in his. "I'd rather have the real thing," he whispered in a heavily accented English. "But this is a fun reminder to keep looking because I might find what I want in a most unexpected place." Then he leaned forward and kissed her check. "You honor me with this," he confessed while their faces were together. "Merry Christmas, Estephania."
"English," was all she could say.
He nodded and looked at their hands in her lap. "Si. Our secret, though. You brought me joy, and I wanted to return some to you." With that, he gently picked up the frame and wrappings and walked away, still smiling.
"What got into Hector?" Hal walked by and asked. "I mean, he's scary on a good day, but he's walking around grinning, which is freaky enough that I stepped to the side to give him a wide berth."
Stephanie laughed and picked up Hal's present. "Maybe he's just enjoying the holiday," she hinted, holding out his package.
Hal's face began to blush as he looked at the rectangle box in Stephanie's hand. "What's that?"
"It's your present," she replied matter-of-factly. What did he think it was? A bomb? "It's not ticking," she prompted, just in care her attempt at a joke was true.
"Of course not." He gave a forced laugh and took the package, holding it to his ear as though verifying what he'd been told. "What is it?"
Her arms flailed in disbelief. "I'm not answering that, and if you don't start opening it, I'm going to help you."
He blushed a little darker, but grinned in return and began to rip the seams of the tape open, pulling the gift out to look at the photo of the moving swing under a beautiful blue sky in a frame with the word "Dream" written on it.
His eyes opened wide and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth before a slow grin took over his face. "Where did you find this?"
"I took it at the park a week ago after we had lunch in the break room together," she reminded him.
Over turkey sandwiches, Hal had confessed he used to want to fly, and instead of her approach of jumping off garage roofs, he would get the swing going as high as it would go and then leap from it at the highest point and soar through the air. He played a game where he'd make a wish while he was flying, and if he landed solid on his feet, then he liked to think his wish might come true. Having grown up in a small town in Indiana, when he told his fifth grade girlfriend about his game, she laughed at him and told him that wishing was like dreaming for something that would never happen. He was going to grow up and take over his daddy's hardware store and thinking about a life where he did anything else was silly because it would never happen. Hal confessed that he hadn't sat on a swing since that day.
As she thought back over the sad story, she glanced back up and saw a faraway look on Hal's face. "Hey," Stephanie called out to get his attention focused on the present and not wherever his mind had drifted. "It's cold today, which means kids aren't at the park. Those swings will easily hold you."
"You want a grown man to hang out in a park on the swings by himself?" Hal asked, looking doubtful. "That has preventative call to the police about a child predator written all over it."
"No, I want you to dream again, and if that means flying off the park swings when nobody else is around, then that's what I want you to do," she countered. "If it'd make you feel better, I'll go with you so you don't have to worry about anyone calling the police."
Hal knelt in front of her and picked up her right hand to draw it to his lips for a tender kiss. "Thank you for this." He drew in an uneven breath. "Thank you for believing in my dreams."
"You've always believed in mine," she reminded him, getting a second kiss on her hand for the encouragement. With that, Hal picked up his gift and walked away.
Her morning continued on in much the same way. One of her guys would drift by, and she'd call them over to hand them the present she'd prepared. Without exception, every single one was touched by her gift. By the time she was down to just three remaining, she had grown in confidence enough to seek out the final recipients and picked up the green package, going in search of her favorite medic.
In the infirmary, she walked in as Bobby was fussing at Zip for working out in the gym that morning, despite his instructions to stay off his ankle for a few days. She moved right beside the man who appeared to be gearing up to fight his restrictions and put her hand on his arm. "Trust me, Zip, you don't want to push working that ankle until Bobby says it's ready. When I injured mine a few years ago, I was desperate to get back on it and didn't follow what my doctor says. Now, I can hardly stand to run at all because it didn't have the chance it needed to heal."
Zip's eyes got huge at that piece of news. She knew all the guys wondered why she didn't work out. If it was because the ankle gave her trouble from an old injury, then maybe laying off for a couple of days would be okay. It was easier to make up a few days of lost exercise than it would be to give up all cardio completely. "Can I still do stuff in the weight room?" he proposed.
"Upper body only," Bobby conceded, "No leg work." With that, Zip agreed quickly, accepted the crutched Bobby held out, and left quickly.
"When did you hurt your ankle?" Bobby seemed very interested in knowing.
"I've never hurt my ankle," she confessed, "But I figured if he thought an old injury that I didn't allow to heal properly was why I wouldn't work out, then maybe he'd lay off for a few days."
Bobby smiled and shook his head.
"What?" She quickly grew defensive. "It was for his own good, and he was about to fight you on it."
He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. "You're amazing. You know that, right?"
She shook her head in disagreement, which caused him to tighten his hold on her. "I can hold you here until you agree," he threatened.
"If you do that, then you won't be able to open your present," she countered.
Immediately, his arms released her and he took a small step back, "Present?"
Holding it out, Stephanie watched as Bobby's eyes grew bigger and his face began the transformation she'd gotten used to seeing from the guys throughout the day. "Open it," she commanded, jumping up to sit on the exam table while Bobby pulled over his rolling stool.
"You didn't have to do this," he said while smiling, obviously glad that she'd done it anyway.
He tore the paper off, but didn't allow any to hit the floor, disposing of each piece as he removed it. Once he got it open, his eyes grew bigger while he looked at the picture in the frame. "Where did you find this?"
"I took it," she answered, thinking about how hard it was to get the picture right without it looking strange or amateur pornographic.
Months ago, she'd gotten cut when a skip tossed her through a window. A large fragment of glass went through her shirt and cut her chest deep enough that it had required ten stitches. Bobby promised her he'd used his best work to minimize the mark, but warned there would be a scar. She and Joe had called it quits not too long before that, and Ranger had been in the wind, so she'd huffed and made the comment that it didn't matter anyway. Nobody really wanted to look at her anymore, so having another ugly scar wasn't really scaring anybody away.
Bobby stopped in his tracks and looked her in the eye long enough that she worried she'd somehow angered him. After swallowing twice, he'd seemed to find his voice and told her, "Any man with half a brain would give almost anything to be able to look at you. And a scar is never ugly. It's a sign of pure strength, which is sexy as hell – especially on you." They'd debated how a scar could ever be attractive, and he'd said not only could it be good-looking, but on the right person, it might even be considered art.
With that incident in her mind, she'd stood in her bathroom with her shirt off, trying to use the reflection in the mirror as a guide for what was in the viewfinder so she could get a picture of just her scar up to the round of her shoulder. It took long enough that her arms were sore from trying to hold the camera still and get it positioned perfectly. But based on how Bobby was looking at the picture, she must have gotten it right.
"I told you it was art," he spoke barely above a whisper. "Look how the skin on the shoulder goes down and the arc of the wound followed a similar pattern."
"You can take the picture out and put something else in the frame, but I wanted you to know I heard you and it meant a lot," she answered.
His head quickly popped up to look at her instead of his gift. "Never. This is beautiful." The tip of his index finger pointed at the picture. "And it's a reminder that I did something good once." His words were softer, his voice sounding full of regret. "No matter what other memories I might have, I can remember the day I was there to help put you back together so we still have you with us."
"You've done a lot more good than that," she argued.
"Maybe." He didn't seem willing to take the bait. "But there are few things I'm more proud of."
She hugged him this time and reminded him, "You're biased."
A light chuckle was what she took as his agreement. "Maybe, but I'm the only guy at RangeMan that has a picture of you with your shirt off, and even if it doesn't show anything dirty, I still feel like it's…revealing. Thank you."
They chatted for a few more minutes, and then she remembered she still had two packages to drop off, so she dashed off to find the largest person on staff.
"Merry Christmas, big guy," she greeted when she burst into Tank's office.
"Most people knock before coming in here." Despite the harsh words, she could see he was struggling to keep a straight face.
"Maybe, but most people don't come in bearing gifts, either," she replied, wiggling the wrapped box in her hand.
"Why didn't you say you were Santa Claus?" he teased. "That would explain your love of sweet stuff."
"Careful," she warned. "I haven't actually given this to you yet."
His face instantly sobered, and she regretting the last words from her mouth. "I'm just kidding," she said, trying to get him to smile again. "There's no way I'd hold back, I'm too excited to see what you think."
"It's from you," he answered quickly. "I'm gonna love it."
"You haven't seen it yet," she reminded him.
"Don't matter," he said, unimpressed with her argument. "You want me to have it, and I want it." As he spoke, he motioned for her to come closer. "Besides, this is the only real present I'm getting this year, so I don't want to miss it."
That was unexpected, and her face instantly reflected the sadness his confession caused.
"Don't go acting like that," he corrected her. "My family sent me gift cards and I got my bonus from RangeMan, so I'm good for stuff. It's just none of it came with paper to tear off."
Tank tapped the top of his desk, so she moved around to climb up on the solid wood top and watched him take the package from her hands. Knowing this was his only real present made her wish she'd put a little more time into it.
He wasted no time in destroying the wrapping, pulling out the frame and then laughed out loud as he looked at the photo. "How in the hell did you manage this?" As he asked the question, he turned the frame around to face her in case she'd forgotten what was pictured.
"I went to the pet shelter on Monroe Street when they put out their kittens banner and asked Susan if I could have some time with the smallest ones in exchange for me helping her out for a few hours once I was done. She was so relieved to have the free volunteer labor, she helped me stage it." Stephanie looked at the snapshot and remembered how weird it had felt to lie on the floor with her hair spread out behind her. Susan, the staff person working that day, set the kittens all around her hair until they became interested in batting around her trademark curls. Once the first one started, three more jumped in the fun. Susan stepped back and snapped a dozen pictures before Stephanie asked to see what they'd captured. The last one was taken just as the final kitty landed on Stephanie's stomach so her full throttle laughter came through from the unexpected tickling and the obvious fun was evident in the kittens' faces as they were playing with her hair against the floor. Under the picture was the single word: "Joy."
Tank turned the picture around and laughed again when he looked at it. "That's probably the best thing I've seen in years," he confessed, still amused. "What made you think of doing that?"
"You love kittens, and I wanted you to know that I get the attraction. It's hard to be around them while you're grumpy because they make you want to smile and then laugh, and before you know it, you're full of…"
"…joy," he said, finishing her thought. "My favorite things all in place."
She was confused by his comment. "You've got to have plenty of pictures of your cats in one place already."
"None of them have you in it too," he reminded her, moving around where she was seated to put the frame on his desk, where he could easily see it while he was working.
"Maybe seeing it will help you to smile more," Stephanie suggested, reaching out boldly to touch the hint of a dimple on his cheek. "You're really handsome when you're smiling."
"Most people ain't interested in seeing me smile," he told her. "Makes 'em nervous that I'm planning something."
"Let them wonder what you're up to, if they're that uptight," she instructed. "But if you're ever bored and have some free time, Susan is always looking for help at the shelter."
"Something tells me if I went up to the shelter, they'd lock the doors before I got in."
Stephanie pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the pictures to pull up one of the woman in question. There on the screen was a picture of Susan, a beautiful black woman – all six feet, two hundred pounds of her, holding the tiniest cat Stephanie had ever seen. "I seriously doubt she'd judge you based on your size," she pointed out. "If you're mean to one of her babies, she'll probably try to kick your ass, but as long as you want to help, Susan is the kind to judge you based on how you act, not how you look."
Tank had the good sense to look embarrassed. "Her name is Susan?"
"Yep, and the shelter is open until four o'clock today, when she'll close it down to start cleaning. An extra set of hands would be appreciated enough that she might be willing to repay your kindness."
The grin returned to his face, and Stephanie reached out once more to touch his cheek. "And when you go, be sure to smile at her. She'll be putty in your hands."
"Merry Christmas, Little Girl," he said tenderly.
She gave him a big hug, trying to reach as much of him as her arms could handle, and then tried to find the courage to knock on the office door next to his.
"Go on in," Tank suggested. "You'll make his holiday by coming to him, even if your hands are empty."
Trusting that Tank knew Ranger better than anyone else, she nodded and then went in search of the man himself.
Just as she raised her hand to knock, the door swung open and revealed a very amused-looking Ranger smirking at her. "Merry Christmas, Babe," he greeted her, pulling her into the office and shutting the door behind her before she could snap out of the slight daze him speaking to her first had caused.
"I brought you a little something," she told him, holding up the package as proof of her reason for appearing in his office. "It's not much." She suddenly realized how small the gift was compared to what he'd given her over the years and wished she'd put a little more effort into his present, since there was no one more important to her.
He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, as though debating how best to make her stop talking. "It's from you," he pointed out. "That's enough."
Not giving her a chance to say anything else, he instantly began to remove the paper, somehow getting it all off in one piece without ripping anything. Everything seemed to bend to his will, but it still amazed her when she saw it happening. When he turned the frame around to look at it, his eyes widened slightly. It was a small change in his expression, but Stephanie considered herself to be nearly an expert in reading Ranger, based on how much time she'd devoted to looking at his face. In her opinion, he was surprised by what he was looking at.
The frame held a picture of them standing face to face. She'd successfully drawn out a skip at happy hour downtown, so she was in a more conservative ivory-colored suit compared to Ranger's all black swat gear. Their hands were clasped, and he was pressing his forehead against hers. She remembered it, but only vaguely, because it happened so quickly after the takedown. It wasn't until Hector e-mailed her the picture that the memory came back to her. She'd spent hours looking at the picture, and in the end, it seemed to say what she wanted him to hear this Christmas better than anything she could take herself. So, in a rare display of courage, she'd printed out the picture and put it in the frame with the caption "Someday" inscribed at the bottom.
"You're giving me someday?" he asked, his voice sounding rougher than it had when she first came in.
"If I could, I would," she answered sadly. "But I think that's more your decision than mine."
"Why do you say that?" he asked, his voice sounding stronger all of a sudden.
"You're the one who said your life didn't lend itself to relationships," Stephanie reminded him. "I just wanted to let you know that when I think about my greatest gifts, the promise of the possibility one day is the thing I treasure the most."
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" he pushed, somehow seeming completely confused about her silence.
"Well…" She couldn't figure out how to explain it. He'd called her entertainment and told her that, while he loved her, there were all kinds of love, and his didn't come with a ring. He'd made it clear time and time again that they couldn't be more than they were.
He sucked in a breath quickly, and she had the sinking suspicion that while the thoughts were swirling through her mind, they might have been coming out her mouth.
"I've been watching you today," he said suddenly, switching the subject and pointing to the monitor on his laptop. "You've made the guys really happy with your presents."
She shrugged, not sure why he was changing the subject so abruptly. "They've done a lot for me, and I wanted to try to show them how much it means to me."
"So this is a repayment?" he asked, sounding guarded.
"No price," she replied with a sly smile, glad to finally have an occasion to quote his words back to him. The instant grin on his face helped her to relax again.
He reached in the drawer to the right of his desk and pulled out a small box, covered in black foil paper with a gold ribbon tied around it. "Merry Christmas, Babe."
The thought of him giving her a present in return hadn't occurred to her, and she found herself flooded with curiosity. Tearing the paper off, she let the scraps fall to the floor, wondering who had wrapped this with industrial-strength tape that refused to give up its hold on the paper. Once it was finally free, she opened the box to reveal a leather key chain, and attached to it was a bronze medallion that had been engraved to read: "Someday." On the ring was a single key that looked like it belonged to a house.
"What's this?" she asked, hoping he'd explain.
"That's a key to my house south of town, near the beach," he confessed.
"This is to the Batcave?" she marveled, turning it over and looking at the letters elegantly scripted on it.
Ranger nodded that she was right about what it was.
"You said the Batcave was forever," she reminded him, unable to hold back the hope that instantly blossomed in her chest.
"I meant it," he answered, leaning closer and keeping her brain from functioning properly between the mix of his presence and the unbelievable promise she was literally holding in her hands.
"This is someday?" she asked, needing confirmation again.
"No." He pulled her into his lap, which helped to lessen the disappointment at her words. "Not someday…every day."
She drew in a deep breath, which provided him the chance to lean in and claim her lips with his.
Once her mind was consumed only with thoughts of him, he pulled back enough to suggest, "Spend Christmas with me, Babe."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tonight." He placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. "Tomorrow." He added another to her cheek. "Every year," he continued, before claiming her mouth once more.
When they finally came up for air, she nodded. "I'd love to."
He moved, indicating she needed to stand, so she reluctantly got up. "Come on so I can give you your real present."
The idea of him giving her more bothered her. She didn't have anything else to offer and didn't have the time or the funds to go find something else. When he looked back with a questioning expression, she decided to be honest. "I only had the one present for you."
His eyes fell to the frame he'd been picking up to take with them. "Yeah, but it's a really big present."
"Not compared to what you've already given me," she argued.
Ranger carefully sat the frame back down and ran his hands up and down her upper arms in a comforting way. "You gave me a picture and a frame, but that's not what I think is the big present."
Stephanie thought back on her actions through the day and couldn't come up with anything else she'd done.
"You gave me hope," he explained, helping to answer her unasked question. "Without it, I would have given you the jewelry I have upstairs, and I would have held back what I really wanted to give you."
"What did you really want to give me?" She might have disliked the inequity of it, but she couldn't resist knowing what else he had in mind.
He lifted her hand, still clinging to the keychain, and kissed her fingers. "I wanted to give you this and then days and weeks and years of memories together."
"Those are hard to wrap." She hated that when she was about to get emotional, it was hard to keep her mouth shut.
He chuckled, not seeming to take offense at her offhanded comment. "You didn't have any trouble wrapping one for me." He pointed to the frame. "Now let me give some back to you."
"Okay," she agreed, feeling the need to accept aloud what he seemed to want to give her. "You really want to be with me?"
"More than anything," he assured her.
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
Ranger shrugged, looking unsure, which seemed foreign on his usually confident face. "The past is a hard enemy to fight. I've said and done some stupid stuff with you, and I couldn't believe you'd really want to be with me."
Her mouth made an unintelligible sound as her mind went blank, unable to come up with words that expressed how ridiculous that idea was.
"I feel the same way," he told her, interrupting her internal struggle.
"You're serious," she whispered, finally beginning to believe it.
"Completely." He leaned in a kissed her once more, softly touching his lips to hers.
"I wish I'd said something sooner," she confessed, "but I wouldn't have had any idea what to say."
"You said it perfectly," he assured her.
"I didn't use any words."
He shook his head. "You used a thousand of them." Once more, he pointed to the photo in the frame. She knew that was what people said a picture was worth.
If she'd known she could communicate her emotions with pictures instead of words, she might not have spent so much of her life trying to avoid them. "Someday," she whispered.
"Today," he added, lacing his fingers through hers.
"Merry Christmas, Ranger."
"It is now, Babe," he agreed. "Let's go home."
A/N: I had to come back with a little RangeMan holiday cheer. I'll be MIA for a while, working on the sequel to my original work, but I'll be back…someday. Merry Christmas!