A/N: Ok. First off, this started a long, loooooooong time ago, inspired by a challenge from Dee on PP. It's going to be a delightful little story and I've finally put it in motion after...I don't even know how long. Second, I made a lot of people a lot of promises regarding this story as far as when it would be written and how much was getting written, and I failed to deliver on pretty much every one of them, so this time around I make absolutely none, other than it will be continued. Updates will be slow, sporadic, and sometimes short, but there will be updates, sometime.

And for the necessary disclaimers, not mine, I get no monetary compensation, only the pure pleasure of imagining Ranger doing all kinds of wicked things with...er, never mind.... This is Babe, but their relationship isn't central to the story. Morelli doesn't really factor in much at all. So sit back (or forward if you prefer), relax, and I hope you enjoy the madness! :D

Warning: I'm trying to write from inside the minds of various MerryMen, so language and conversations focus on what guys think about constantly and joke about with other guys, ie: things of a sexual nature. There is a brief description of a pornographic video.

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Bobby's Arousing Observations

Most of the guys hate monitor duty. It's usually treated as disciplinary action when one of the guys gets out of line or commits a minor infraction. But me, I don't mind it so much. In fact I kind of like it.

Sure, a lot of the time it's boring and uneventful, even when there is an attempted break-in you alert the team on call and they get to go have all the fun, but on Monitoring Operations you're the eyes and ears of Rangeman. You see everything, even things people don't want you to.

I've had a lot of opportunity to catch the other guys doing idiotic things in some pretty embarrassing situations. Even gave me some great blackmail material if I ever need it. And it's some pretty hilarious shit.

Lately a lot of it involves Steph. Or what happens to the guys around Steph. I was on MO Duty the day that Steph stunned Hal during the Stiva mess. Priceless. Hal hit the pavement like a ton of bricks. I think there's still a dent where he fell.

Then there was the time last year when Lester fell asleep hunched over his desk. After a while he fell sideways out of his chair. He hit the ground, rolled to his stomach and kept sleeping. I watched on the monitors as the chair shot backwards, bounced off the wall, came back and rolled right into him.

He just kept on sleeping.

We found out later that Ella had made some miracle tea for Steph, to take care of her cold. She was supposed to drink a cup and go take a nap upstairs on seven. Turns out, while Steph was in the little girls' room, Les poured himself a nice big cup of medicated tea instead of coffee.

Both he and Bombshell were out cold the rest of the afternoon. It did get rid of her cold though.

The best by far though was the Balloon Incident of 2006. No one knows about that little episode except Lester, Cal, and me and I'm damn sure neither of those two bozos will be telling anyone anytime soon. I have the video from that saved on three separate discs, all hidden in separate locations, because both Les and Cal have made several attempts to destroy the evidence.

All efforts have failed, but I'm not taking any chances.

As entertaining as MOD can be sometimes, today was definitely not one of them. For the past three hours I've watched Hal crank out report after perfectly worded report, and Bomber print and review searches. As hot as she is, it's not the most interesting thing to watch. Certainly better than looking at Hal though.

Nothing else was going on at any of the accounts except the usual daily business. I checked in with the police scanner, slid down to the surveillance computer and both were a big fat nothing. Back to watching Steph. I wonder if I could convince her to show more leg at work.

As if she sensed she was being watched—just like Terry Benedict, in this building there's always someone watching—she shifted in her seat, looking around. Then she rubbed her leg.

Holy Damn.

She jokes about us having ESP but I'm starting to think that she and that so-called spidey sense of hers are psychic. Get a grip, Brown, the inactivity has melted your brain.

I noticed Steph head into the break room. Probably it was a good time for me to take a break too. Have some conversation with a real human being. Stimulate the brain and get my mind off all this supernatural nonsense.

I made a mental note to make sure Les or Tank got stuck reviewing Hal's reports tonight and pushed back from the monitor desk, stretching to relieve the stiffness of my previously inert muscles.

Fucking Hal.

I know Rangeman wanted us alert at the monitors but damn, would it kill him to invest in some chairs that were at least slightly more comfortable?

Mental note #2: grab office desk chair when I come back.

Looking around, the only other person on deck right now was the new guy Bear. He had the unlucky job of filing Hal's pristine reports. Since it was such a quiet day I figured he could handle taking over for me at the monitors for a few minutes.

"Hey, Bear." He looked over and I caught a mixture of eagerness and fear in his expression before his face blanked. I felt the tug of a smile. Someone had been practicing.

"Sir?"

"I'm taking five, take over the watch while I'm gone."

"Sir, yes, sir," he snapped back, but made no move to leave his filing. I had started to walk away, but at his hesitation I turned back. I might have sighed just a little. Probably been hanging around Bombshell too much.

"It's been a slow day, but if something happens, call it in and call for me." He visibly relaxed and the relief was evident in his hurried, "yes, sir."

Christ. Another one straight from the service.

I'd have to make him spend sometime with Lester, get that 'Sir' shit out of his system real quick. Every time he said it I had to stop myself from looking over my shoulder for Ranger.

I left Bear to get his shit together and headed down the hall to the break room. Sounds of heavy panting and low moaning reached my ears as I approached Lester's office.

Slowing my footsteps I stuck close to the wall and silently moved in close to the open door. Les was leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, hands linked behind his head.

Playing on the computer screen was some slightly grainy footage of two bleach blondes kneeling on a sofa pressed together at the chest, stroking and petting each other between kisses while two other girls—a redhead and a brunette—fucked them from behind with strap-ons.

Only Lester would be horny enough to watch cheap porn on an office computer that faced an open door. And also leave his back to said door.

"You know," I started, with the satisfaction of seeing him jump, "if bossman catches you watching that shit on his time he'll have your ass in the ring."

I tried but couldn't stop the grin when he jumped a foot off his chair, his boots thumping the desk as he bolted upright and he started pounding keys to stop the video and remove it from the screen.

The look he shot me was definitely death-glare quality.

Looks like I'm not the only one picking up Steph's habits. If Brett starts rolling his eyes, I'll know we're in serious trouble.

"Shit, Bobby, someday I'll probably need those ten years you just took off of my life!" He swiveled his chair to face me.

"Just be glad it was me. Ranger would have taken more than ten years."

"No shit."

"What the hell are you watching?"

"Naughty Neighbors 4," he said with a grin and an eyebrow waggle, "the blonds just moved in, and the other two were welcoming them to the neighborhood."

"You're a sick fuck, Santos. At least watch something good," I said, pushing away from the door frame.

He stuck his head out the door to call after me. "These girls are good, man. All four of 'em have multiple AVN awards."

I backtracked to the control room and leaned in Hal's cubicle.

"Hal, when you're done here, deliver your reports to Santos. He needs something to do."

"Will do."

This time when I headed down the hallway Lester's office door was closed, but I could still hear muted moaning and groaning coming through. I snickered at the thought of the decidedly unsexy work Lester would soon find himself enjoying.

A moan, louder than the others, sounded down the hallway. I stopped, debating if I should go back and tell Les how loud it really was, or leave him to get caught by Ranger. Another moan, this one clearly coming from up ahead. I kept going but froze when I realized it was coming from the break room.

Where Steph was.

I was just outside when—unwanted, but not unwelcome—an image of Steph on her last distraction popped into my head.

She wore a black, stretchy, micro-mini dress that high in front and nonexistent in the back. The kind of dress that let you know she wore very little underneath it because there were no lines. No panty lines, no bra lines.

Her legs had looked amazing in that dress. Hell, her everything looked amazing in that dress.

Another moan came from around the corner and my dick twitched in my pants. Christ.

She had sauntered in to that club like she owned the place, the stares of men—and more than a few women—following in her wake. It had taken her only half an hour from the second she walked in the door till the skip was cuffed and stuffed in the back of the waiting Bronco. Ranger threw his arm around her, handed her into his Porsche and away they flew. Leaving us to take the skip in and grumble about what a lucky bastard he was.

Most of the guys thought of Steph as part of the family, a sister. A low moan followed by a breathy sigh made me amend my thought. Maybe not a sister—at least a 2nd or 3rd cousin.

I was starting to get seriously uncomfortable and I tried to adjust myself without giving away my position or alerting Steph to my presence.

"Mmmm, that's so GOOD!"

What the hell was going on in there? Had I missed Ranger joining her while I was dicking around with Les? It sounded like they were really going at it.

The only way to find out would be to look.

I pressed as close to the wall as was physically possible, turned my head and stretched forward just enough to look inside the room.

Holy Mary Mother of God. She was alone. She was alone and eating Tastykakes and sounding like she was about to come. And I was feeling like a randy teenager on prom night. Christ. And it was Steph. My friend and boss' woman. Double Christ.

I couldn't let anyone catch me like this. I'd never live it down. Plus, word would get to Ranger and Lester's ass wouldn't be the only one in the ring. Rangeman would kick my ass till my body fell apart then he would put the pieces into a box and send them overnight express to Siberia. I had to get to my office fast if I had any hope of getting myself under control.

It was just ten steps away, right on the other side of the open break room doorway.

And then I heard the most terrifying sound. A chair scraped back. Plastic crinkled. The water ran, and footsteps headed my way. Oh Fuck.