Disclaimer...you know the drill.

A/N: Okay, you twisted my arm...or is it my muse that's twisted?

-oOo-

Chapter 2

I thought I had no tears left, but I was wrong. As the storm of weeping passed I became aware of a few things, first and foremost that I really needed some tissues.

My warm nest moved as Ranger reached for the box on the nightstand. I heard the rustle of nylon against his skin and remembered that he was shirtless beneath the windbreaker - and I was cradled in his lap with only my robe on. Somehow I knew this was not a good place for me to be right now.

Mustering what little grace or coordination I could manage, I slid out of his embrace and off the bed, grabbing the tissue box on the way, and headed for the bathroom to clean myself up. It took half a dozen tissues to mop up the worst of it and my sinuses were still clogged. I rinsed my face and brushed my teeth, then I tightened the belt of my robe and stepped back out.

Ranger was leaning in the opening of the bedroom doorway, half in and half out. His windbreaker was zipped all the way up to his throat.

"I apologize," I said quickly, before he had a chance to say anything. My voice sounded hollow with my sinuses stopped up and my throat raw from tears. "It's none of my business and I-- Well, I'm sorry."

He straightened but didn't move toward me or reach out, and my heart ached.

"Stephanie, I think we need to talk. Not here, and not tonight, but we need to talk."

His voice was flat and even with no trace of warmth and my eyes welled with tears again. I blinked them back and stared hard at the floor between us. He seemed to be waiting for something, so I nodded. I understood.

He hesitated, as if he expected me to look up. I couldn't. I kept my gaze firmly on the floor, my arms wrapped around my middle as if that would keep my heart from hurting. It didn't help. But after another few endless minutes I finally saw him move and a moment later I heard the soft snick of the apartment door closing.

It took a long time for me to get my feet to move, and I went to check the door. He'd locked the locks, but I attached the chain and latched the floor bolt again. I headed back to bed on autopilot. It only registered that I was shivering when I reached to pull back my comforter and I saw my hand shake. Then I realized I was cold in spite of the warm night, and that my hair was still wet.

I put socks on my cold feet first, then pulled on pajama pants and an old sweatshirt. Fishing the damp towel I'd had my hair wrapped in out of the sheets, I sat on the edge of the bed and blow-dried my hair and then aimed the warm air at the damp spots on the sheets. Probably I ought to change them but I was just too drained.

Turning the dryer off, I crawled between the warmed sheets and willed myself back to sleep. Surely things would look better tomorrow, right?

-oOo-

At five thirty-three I gave up on sleep and crawled out of bed to make coffee. Ranger was right. We needed to talk.

I felt oddly detached as I went through the familiar motions of setting up the coffee pot. I leaned on the counter and watched as it began to dribble out brown liquid into the waiting carafe, trying to concentrate. I didn't think Ranger was going to let me put off our talk and I needed to get my thoughts in order and decide how to explain last night. If I could.

An hour, two cups of coffee, and a bathroom break later I realized I couldn't really explain myself to Ranger unless I came clean and admitted how I felt about him - and I wasn't sure I could do that. Not now.

Soft tapping on my door had me jerking in my chair, sloshing coffee out of my cup, over my hand, and onto the dinette table. I rubbed my trembling fingers dry on my pajama pants as I tiptoed to the door. Surely Ranger wouldn't be here this early...

The peephole showed me Lester. Why would he be...? I bit my lip and took a shady breath, and unlocked the door.

Lester stood in the hall with his head cocked slightly, taking in my definitely-not-ready-for-morning look with understanding in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" My voice came out nearly a croak and made me cough.

Lester backed me inside, closed the door, and led me back to my chair at the table. As soon as I sat down he whisked away my cold coffee, wiped up my spill, sat a fresh cup in front of me and sat down with his own. Then he dropped a box of donuts on the table between us.

"I'm here because of what happened last night," he said calmly.

I assumed he meant the skip, and immediately opened my mouth. "I'm fine, Lester - the skip only got my shirt, not any part of me--"

"I meant with Ranger."

Stricken, I looked up and found his eyes full of sympathy. Mine immediately filled with tears yet again. Cursing under my breath I lurched from the table to grab a paper towel before dropping back into the chair. "How much do you know?" I asked between sniffs.

"I know when we got back to the control room last night and Ranger took off his windbreaker, we all got a good look at his back. Tank and I both realized you must have seen it. Tank took him aside and started to jump his shit, and Ranger grabbed the windbreaker and took off. We were pretty sure he came here."

"Yeah," I admitted just above a whisper.

"He was gone for a while." He paused, but when I didn't say anything he continued. "Did you two talk, work things out?"

I made a sound that was half snort and half sob. "Not really."

"What happened?"

Lester was being so earnest, keeping his voice soft and even, that I felt compelled to answer. "We kind of had a fight." A tear escaped and I brushed it away before it could fall.

"I was afraid of that," Lester sighed, sitting back a little.

My stomach was jumping around with nausea again, but my idiotic mouth opened anyway. "Do you know...who...?"

He shook his head without hesitation. "No idea."

I sniffed. "Ranger said we need to talk," I finally admitted in a small voice.

"Ain't that the truth," Lester muttered, looking over my head at the wall.

Denial wasn't going to get me through this mess. I wasn't sure what would. I could use some help. "I don't know what to say to him," I whispered. "I don't know what he wants from me."

"Do you want some advice?" Lester asked. At my nod he leaned forward, propping his arms against the edge of the table. "Be honest. With Ranger and with yourself. He doesn't know what you want from him, either. You need to decide, Steph. What do you want from him, and what are you willing to give? If you want this mess resolved you're going to have to talk. Both of you are."

Then Lester got up, pressed a kiss in the general vicinity of my forehead, and let himself back out. I sat motionless.

He was right. Lester was right, I knew he was, but the idea of laying my hopes and feelings bare to Ranger scared the crap out of me.

What exactly did I want, anyhow?

-oOo-

TBC...