A/N: Initially I thought about using this idea as chapter for "Best Pastries ever" but it somehow wouldn't have fit. It would have shifted the dynamic in the wrong way. So it became its own story. The beginning of this is rather sketchy for a reason – I leave it up to you who you want it to be
Also, I don't know what's up with my muse. Even with my most active years in a different fandom I haven't been as inspired as I am right now. I literally lie awake at night with story ideas coming to me. But better than not being inspired I guess. I certainly don't plan to take over the first page of fanfiction in the Steph/Ranger category LOL
His hands were everywhere. At least that's how it felt. My senses were overflown with sensations and an unbearable desire. His lips followed where his hands had been moments earlier. There was teeth and tongue and OH God, he did not just do that!
There was moaning and it wasn't clear whether that was me or him. And quite frankly, who cared?
We were both hot – as in sweaty, hot flash hot. The temperature had risen constantly over the course of the last few minutes – or hours. I had lost track and sense of time. We could have been doing this only ten minutes or hours over and over again. And I wanted it to never stop. This felt good. This felt right. This was heaven. His hands grabbed my hips tightly, held me down and a moment later I felt him move down my body, leaving a hot trail of wet, open mouthed kissed and the his lips were – holy mother of God!
That's when the temperature increased unbearable. And our noise-level probably reached a 'might get murdered, or not' volume. But I was way past caring what neighbors or other people could possibly think. If police was called they'd better not show up before he wasn't done. Cause if they did – I would be PISSED.
The cops didn't come, but something started ringing in the background. Neither of us seemed to acknowledge it. Or didn't want to anyway. After a few more rings it started to be distracting. It definitely wasn't my phone, it wasn't a ringtone I'd ever have.
"You should probably get that," I said, seeing him look at me almost pissed off for a moment. And I agreed with him, whoever was calling had the worst timing in the history of timing. But it started to annoy me. Better get it over with to get on with the good stuff. I closed my eyes, letting him get rid of whoever was calling. A second later he was gone. Like…literally gone, as in not here anymore. Strangely enough the ringing was still going on.
Another second later I found myself in my bedroom. Wait, wasn't I just someplace else?
That's when I realized it had all been a dream. Well, almost all of it. The ringing seemed to be real, since my phone on my nightstand was ringing like crazy still. The numbers on my clock screamed in angry-red the time, which made me groan.
Looking at caller ID it wasn't a number I recognized, except that it was Trenton-area code.
Someone must have died.
That must have been it.
Nothing good ever came out of phone calls at 3 a.m.
"Yo," I answered somewhat sleepy in the phone.
"Yo, yourself," I heard Ranger's voice. That made me think for a moment, since I wasn't expecting him on the other end. I had as a matter of fact all his numbers – office, apartment on the 7th floor and cell phone – not only saved in my phone, but was pretty certain I knew them also from heart by now. Thinking about how often I called him that wasn't really surprising.
"Who died?" I asked rather anxious. God, I hope it wasn't Tank. I liked Tank. He was like this big, bulky version of a Teddy bear. At first he always scared me a bit, seeing I was slightly overextended with all his height and muscle and the not-talking. That got better over the years. He was a sweet guy, who had a cat and seemed to have a very weak spot for Lula. Tank was still intimidating as hell, but…we made progress.
"No one," Ranger said, sounding slightly confused. That surprised me even more, since Ranger usually was wearing the perfect poker face, not showing emotion in any way. At most times I found that ability more or less comforting, since no matter how much of a fool I made out of myself, at most I only got a Babe and some almost-but-barely-there smile.
"Then why are you calling me at that time?" I asked and my voice sounded like a mix between whining and frustration, as well as curiosity.
"I need a favor," he said and that had me all awake all of a sudden.
"Is this a booty call?" I asked partially amused. Truth was, I didn't see Ranger as the booty-call-type of guy. But truth also was, he was hot and well…. male. I guess he had urges and by the number of our meeting in alleys and his constant reminder that he wanted me, I figured he needed a way of release. Somehow I didn't think cold showers were his preferred method. He also wasn't the pick-up-in-a-bar-kind of guy.
That was a lot of 'not-kind-of-guy'. Huhn. So maybe booty-calls were his way.
"Babe," was all I got as a reply. Go figure. Though, this Babe was sounding serious.
Truth is, the only time Ranger actually ever asked for favors was when he needed me to work. Like, really work, as in distractions or researches or finding someone. That last part always amused me – though it didn't happen that often to be honest. Because let's face it, he was way better at finding people than I was. He had talent, I relied on pure luck.
"What favor do you need?" I finally asked.
"You need to bail me out," he stated and I was taken aback for a moment
"Bail you out from what?" Please don't let it be gang-related and that I needed to use my gun.
"Out of jail. I got arrested," came his reply. And that I hadn't seen coming. Ranger was usually operating in what he liked to call grey areas of the law. For me, it was less grey as it was plain black or white. Either you did something legal, or illegal. There was not partly legal. But then again Ranger's and my definition of law and law abiding citizens was usually not the same. It never bothered me to be honest – and maybe that was the most shocking part.
The thing was, he was constantly doing grey area stuff but he never got arrested. He was too careful for that. So, he calling me with that info was surprising to say the least. And then… it hit me.
"Wait, am I your one call?" I asked, more shocked than anything.
"Pretty much, Babe."
"Why…. Don't you call Tank or someone else from RangeMan?"
"The core team isn't in Trenton right now. And it's a bit complicated right now. So….?" Ranger asked, letting the question linger in the air.
I liked the idea of Ranger owning me a favor. But then I realized that over the years Ranger had done so much and hardly ever asked for anything in return. Like, really asked for it. He usually always said I would eventually pay him back – not necessarily with money – but he never actually had gotten back to me. Not once. By now I was running a tab that included brand-new cars that I destroyed and he replaced, manpower he sent after me to make sure I was safe and countless times I relied on his grey-area-skills. It was time for paying him back for some of his generosity.
"Where do I pick you up?" I asked, swinging out of bed and making my way to the bathroom, collecting clothes on the way there.
Half an hour later I was at the station, writing a check that had way too many zeros for my liking. I knew I'd get it back from Ranger the first chance he got – not that I would technically insist on it as such, it was just…. I wouldn't have been able to afford his bail. And he knew that. He knew what I made, or didn't make, he knew what my FTAs usually were worth.
Ranger looked his usual self, which translated into irresistible hot, dressed in his usual black clothes and just… cool as a cucumber. He smiled at me – with a real smile for a change – and walked up to me.
"I owe you," he said, pulling me close and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Despite him having been in lock-up for probably a few hours he smelled his usual self, a good mix of Bvlgari, sex and temptation.
"That you do," I smiled at him, leaning close, so that my lips were next to his ear. "And trust me, I'll collect."
"I'm counting on it, Babe," he simply stated and off we were into the night, going our separate ways.
TBC...
Post-A/N: I couldn't really decide what he would get arrested for – obviously there are plenty of options, but… it would have to be minor-ish, so they would let him go as well as fitting to Ranger. I leave it up to everyone to decide what it was
Also, while researching this, I found out that the common assumption of "you have one phone call when arrested" is more or less fiction that's made up by Hollywood. As a matter of fact "in reality, the number of phone calls you can make varies from as many as you want to zero, depending on the severity and location of your crime and how you act when arrested" (source: todayifoundout/dot/com ) Learned something again and there you go, fanfiction does teach you stuff
