Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing.

Another little RangeKids short that popped into my head. I was blown away by how much people liked the first one so I guess this is now a series. I should warn you that these aren't in chronological order, they're just a series of shorts written as they occur to me, so the ages of the kids will vary. A lot will be in response to challenges on Perfectly Plum, like this one. The whole series is set sometime after the Ten Trials of Connie Rosolli.

It was a dark and stormy night. Ranger watched the sky light up outside as rain battered ceaselessly at the bedroom window. The sky had been rumbling ominously for the past hour, and he was quietly waiting for the inevitable.

His wife breathed softly next to him, her body pressed firmly into his side with her head tucked into his shoulder and one leg thrown over him, the same as always. He stared out of the window, for once not wanting to look at her. Each flash of lightning would illuminate the livid bruise that decorated her right cheekbone, and he knew that if he saw it once more he'd want to cross a line that he shouldn't cross. Couldn't cross. He had too much to lose now.

It would have to be enough to know that Barry Jacobs was going to find jail very, very uncomfortable for a while. He'd made sure of it. And when Barry got out, he was going to wish that he was still inside. It was time for him to find out that certain women were to be treated with respect, even if they were there to escort you back to jail.

The sky lit up again as he watched, and almost simultaneously, thunder cracked viciously overhead. He sighed and prepared himself for company. That last one would definitely do it.

Right on cue, running footsteps thumped down the hallway and a four year old figure in Spongebob Squarepants pajamas appeared in the doorway. A small voice whispered, "Mommy?"

Ranger half smiled at the slight tremor in the voice. "Shhh, Mommy's asleep," he whispered back. "Come round this side."

Alex tiptoed over to stand beside the bed. "I can't sleep."

"Storm keeping you awake?"

The little boy nodded solemnly.

Ranger reluctantly pulled himself out of his wife's embrace and left the warm cocoon they had made together under the quilt. He swung Alex up into his arms and felt two smaller arms lock around his neck in a death-grip as his son burrowed into his shoulder. He could feel him shivering slightly. "Let's go, tiger. Back to bed."

He padded round to the smaller bedroom that had once been his seventh floor office. Now Tigger bounced happily across one wall while Winnie the Pooh investigated the contents of a honey jar and Eeyore sulked over by the door. A small mountain of toy cars protruded from the top of a toy chest in the corner.

He flipped the light on and made a point of looking down before crossing the floor to the small bed. He'd discovered the hard way that toy cars hurt like a son-of-a-bitch when you find them with your feet in the dark. He'd hopped around the floor exercising every ounce of his legendary self-control to avoid expanding Alex's vocabulary with some new and interesting words. Stephanie had already warned the men about the consequences of her son repeating any of their more colorful phrases at daycare, and half of them were now scared to talk to him at all, just in case he could pick up swearwords by some kind of mental osmosis. It had certainly cleaned up the language in the control room for the afternoon shift, since Alex liked to watch the monitors sometimes and pretend he was one of the team. That wasn't quite an even trade for the changes in staff gun policy he'd had to make, but it was something.

He settled Alex down into bed and drew the brightly colored quilt up to his chin. The damn thing gave him a headache every time he looked at it but Stephanie had insisted, the same way that she had insisted on the wall mural and all the other brightly colored evidence of childhood that had gradually crept into the apartment. "Time to go to sleep now. I'll be here with you."

More thunder growled outside and a gust of wind drove the rain against the window in a staccato clatter. Ranger cursed internally. Like sleep was going to happen any time soon after that.

Alex peered anxiously at him over the top of his quilt. "I'm still scared."

"I know, son, but you have to try. I'm right here."

"Aren't you scared?"

"No."

"Why aren't you scared?"

Ranger sighed. Stephanie had warned him about the dangers of being pulled into a conversation. It was a classic Alex bedtime tactic, and he wasn't trained or equipped to play mind games with small children. She was the one with the serious skills. He'd be calling her in for reinforcements right now if that bastard hadn't tried to beat the crap out of her today. As things stood, though, he was going to have to tough this one out on his own. He fleetingly considered calling Ella, but then decided that the shit he'd get from Tank if he ever found out wasn't worth the risk. Time to suck it up and deal.

"It's just noise. It's nothing to be scared of."

"Aren't you scared of anything?"

"Some things." Mostly about things that might happen to Alex or his mother, but neither of them would ever know that if he could help it. "Maybe tigers. Tigers are scary. But we don't have tigers in America except in the zoo, so you're safe. Go to sleep."

"People say you're scary. Jack's daddy does."

"Who's Jack?"

"My friend at daycare."

Did he know Jack's father? He'd have to find out.

"Why are people scared of you?" Alex went on.

That's it, son, go for the jugular. You couldn't talk about what you had for breakfast instead? "Because sometimes I want them to be, so that bad people will do what I say."

"Will I be scary one day?"

Good question, son. Really good question. Do I want you to be like me? A killer? "Do you want to be?"

"Maybe when I'm scary I won't be scared of stuff."

"So if you were scary, you wouldn't be afraid of the thunder?"

"I don't think so."

Ranger took a deep breath. Stephanie was going to kill him if she ever found out what he was about to do, but if she got some sleep it would be worth it. "Then we'll make you scary. Sit up. I'm going to teach you The Look. You can never, ever tell Mommy I did this. Promise?"

"Promise." Alex sat up in bed eagerly.

Ranger wrapped the migraine-inducing quilt around him to keep him warm and sat on the floor in the middle of the room. "Now imagine that I'm somebody you don't like and look at me. Now pretend you can see right through my head and look at Tigger on the wall behind me. Don't smile, just stare at Tigger."

Alex screwed up his face with intense concentration as he focused a four-year-old's glare on the unfortunate cartoon character. His nose creased as he squeezed his eyes halfway shut and pushed his bottom lip out. He looked more near-sighted than scary, but that didn't matter.

"Good stare," Ranger pronounced. "Very scary. I think the thunder will be scared of you now. Time to sleep." He got up from the floor and crawled over to the bed to tuck him back in before starting for the door.

He was just reaching for the light when Alex whispered, "I'm still a bit scared. Just a bit."

Enough. Time to concede defeat. Small boy 1, scary mercenary 0. He scooped him up again and headed back to his own bedroom and his sleeping wife. "This is just for tonight. And if you wake Mommy up you're back in your own bed, thunder or no thunder. There will be no flailing, no kicking, and no pulling my hair. If you do I'll cut it all off and then you'll be in really big trouble with Mommy. Do you promise to keep still?"

"I promise. Can I have more scary lessons?"

"If you don't tell Mommy. Ever."