A/N: Ah! The response is so overwhelmingly positive! Thank you so much! And don't worry - I have everything up to Day 24 written. Got you guys covered. :)

Same standard disclaimer applies.


Stephanie felt good about this gift. It was sneakily personal and yet something she knew Ranger would enjoy.

It took Stephanie probably two years to finally understand Ranger's music predilections. He listened to so many different types; it took her a while to get a handle on it. Not just that, but he also listened to specific genres based on whatever activity he was doing. She finally figured out that he preferred jazz to listen to when he was relaxing, liked harder instrumental stuff when he was getting ready to go take care of some bad guys, Latin when he wanted to dance or was in a fun, flirty mood, and he knew most of the words to all of her hard rock that she listened to. She had no idea where he stood on Christmas music, though.

She pooled all over her knowledge and decided to make him a "mix tape" of Christmas music of various genres. Of course, after her playlist hit fifty songs, she realized that it would certainly not be able to fit on a CD, let alone a tape, and that she better modernize. So that left her with today's gift: a small thumb drive. She thought she had everything covered: Tran Siberian Orchestra was the perfect Christmas pumping up music, plus some lighter jazz instrumentals, plus a few of her favorite fun songs. And he can get some Latin flavor in there occasionally.

She saw the selfishness in there a bit – she admitted to wanting to have something not-so-distracting on any December stakeouts she might have to sit through with him. He never let her listen to anything with words (you sing along once and miss a man crawling around in the dark and he never lets you forget it!) but this would break up the monotony quite nicely.

Yes. This would do quite nicely.


He admits to keeping one eye on the monitors last night. He wasn't sure if Steph would come at night again, placing a gift for him in his stocking. She didn't even say that she would. He was reading way too much into this.

Her letter said she might give him another gift. And he had kept his stocking on his door, just like she wanted. But nothing. He saw nothing.

The men were delighted with their stockings. It was more than that, obviously, but he knows that they appreciate the physicality of a gift more than emotions. He had a brief flash of jealousy at the idea that maybe Steph had written everyone letters like his. Maybe even one professing her love or undying devotion or some shit.

He had to get his head under control.

No, Steph didn't write anyone else a letter. A lot of his men wouldn't have appreciated that the way they did the stocking and the small tokens inside. They liked the feelings behind the action, and they don't particularly enjoy having those feelings spelled out for them. Normally he didn't, either. As usual, she was the exception.

So no late night gift drops, and when he got to his office (at 7 sharp this morning), his stocking still hung flat against his door. Empty.

He was angry with himself for even being the tiniest bit disappointed. He had no right. She made no promises, she was living her life on a shoestring budget, and he was just a greedy bastard. He did get an alert that she had logged into the budget account last night. She hadn't touched the card, hadn't made any purchases, but at least she knew what was available to her.

He had a feeling he'd be hearing from her sometime today, even if it was Sunday.

He got back to the office around two pm. He had just completed a successful takedown but he didn't feel that successful. He felt how he was sure Steph felt entering her parents' house after blowing up a vehicle. He sat at his desk staring at his phone, unsure if he wanted it to ring or not, when he heard a noise at his door.

His Babe stood there, doing one brief knock on the stocking before realizing it wasn't making any noise. She turned a cute shade of scarlet and knocked briefly right above it.

"You busy?"

He sighed internally. No. Yes. Kind of.

"What's wrong? I heard you caught Robert Falcioni this morning with no problems."

He had been so sure that he wasn't giving anything away on his face. Was he that transparent? Or did she just know him that well?

"Never mind." He realized he had paused too long and she was feeling nosy. "Not my business. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Babe. The Falcioni takedown did go well, but it was a bit too close to Newark for my taste."

"Since when do you not like Newark? Your family lives in Newark." He waited for her to get there herself. "Ohhhhh."

"We got him leaving church this morning."

"Ohhhh," she repeated, her eyes wider. "You know, it's funny. I guess I just don't picture you as someone who still gets yelled at by their mom."

He grinned at her, showing his teeth. She was struck with a brief flashback into Little Red Riding Hood. "Not so much yelling as it is quiet berating and worries about my safety. Having to explain to her why I had to stop a guy from pistol whipping me in the parking lot of Saint Augustine's isn't something I'm looking forward to."

"Does she ask you to quit your job?"

"Can't really quit a company I own, Babe."

"Okay, well, sell then?"

"No. She understands who I am and what I do and she accepts it. She's given up on trying to change me."

"Wonder what that's like," Steph muttered and Ranger could feel his eyes softening on her.

"Not that I mind you dropping in, but was there a reason you came here on a Sunday, Steph?"

"Well, I initially came to yell at you for that corporate card and how much money you think I'm going to be spending on a Christmas party in Trenton, but since you're already going to get a lecture today, I think I'll spare you."

"Much appreciated, Babe."

A mischievous smile spread on her face. "Do you want to see my car?"

"Did you get a new one?" He hadn't heard of any accidents regarding Steph. In fact, she was driving a trusty Honda Civic that while it was a god awful shade of brown, it was reliable. She routinely joked that it was only a few shades away from black, so it was like she was practically driving one of his cars.

"Nope," she said, popping the 'p' and rocking back on her heels. "You gonna come see or what?"

He was going to point out that he could easily bring up the garage on the monitors in his office, but he felt himself standing anyways. He rationed it that if he wasn't in his office, he couldn't answer his mother's call. That, and spending time with Stephanie? Win-win.

He slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him as they walked to the elevator. A few guys that hadn't been around yesterday shouted their thanks to her for the treasures, and he knew that if he wasn't with her, she would've been showered with hugs and a few kisses from the bold. He tightened his grip fractionally.

"You smell like Christmas."

"That's how I usually describe Diesel," she told him with a laugh as the lift started to move.

"You do not smell like Diesel," he growled. She smelled like evergreen and spiced apples and something a little sweeter than usual. He liked it.

"I hope not!" She agreed. He noticed her surreptitiously take a deep inhale of his own scent. He knew she was a fan of his body wash and while it was just a soap to him, her reaction guaranteed that he wouldn't be changing it anytime soon.

The doors opened and they stepped out into the garage. He was happy to notice that Steph wasn't too far from the doors; his standing orders that she have a good parking spot still being effective. He took one step before pausing.

If he was a guffawing man, he would have guffawed. That was how funny Stephanie's car looked.

"Do you like it?"

"Babe?" He took a few steps closer and felt his traitorous smile tilt the corners of his mouth up.

It was…a reindeer.

The red nose was on the front grill, oversized and plush (he didn't want to find out if it squeaked – he might not be able to handle that), with antlers attached to the windows. It was a reindeer. The kicker, while not being the red nose, although that was close, was the sun shade she had put in her windshield. It looked suspiciously homemade. It blocked out the sun from heating her seats (her seats weren't even leather, he knew), but on the front were two eyes. Huge cartoonish eyes peered at him from under her windshield. Coupled with the color of her car, it was not only ridiculous, but comical.

"So? What do you think?"

"It's a reindeer."

"Not just a reindeer. It's Rudolph." She gave him a teasing eye roll. "Gotta be more aware of your surroundings, Babe."

"You turned your car into a reindeer."

"Fa la la la la, Ranger." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're going to pick up skips in a reindeer?" It barely came out as a question, but it was all he could muster at that point.

"Mooner and Dougie already told me that they were going to get arrested and then skip bail just so they could ride in it down to the cop shop. They may or may not dress as Santa and an elf."

"You never disappoint, Babe."

She beamed at him like he had just given her a million dollars.

"I'm going to assume that means you like it. Don't correct me if I'm wrong." Before he could respond, she opened the driver's side door. "I'm going shopping, and I'm sure you have a phone call waiting for you. I'll see you tomorrow, Ranger."

"Later, Babe."

He made his way back up to his office, smiling internally at how perfect her reindeer car was for her personality – and hoping she didn't give Lester any ideas. He opened his office, having just closed the door and not locked it up, when the stocking rocked against the door. He stopped in his tracks, eying the stocking.

He felt the bottom of the stocking on the outside and sure enough, there was something tiny and hard on the inside of it. He was convinced it hadn't been there that morning, yet there was definitely something in there now.

He reached inside, pulling out a tiny thumb drive, trying to tell himself he wasn't disappointed that there wasn't a written note. He had, after all, gotten the gift he had wanted. He took it to his desk and sat there, staring at it as if it held all the answers.

He felt like things were changing between him and Stephanie. Worst of all, he couldn't tell if she felt it too. Did she feel this…this blossoming? It was blooming all around him, it was encompassing him. It was all he could think about, all he could feel, all he could see and taste. And a tiny part of him was angry with her; he was upset that there was a chance she could not be feeling what he was. Or that she could somehow ignore it. It just didn't make sense, and it was riling his system, rankling his senses.

He blew out a harsh breath of frustration and shoved the flash drive into the closest USB port on his computer.

"Fuck it," he muttered, waiting for it to load. There were two items in the drive. One he could see was an iTunes playlist, and the other a word document. He clicked both open, waiting for whichever was first to load.

The word document opened quickly and he realized that it wasn't an overemotional confession. He hated himself a little bit for not knowing whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Instead, it was a brief overview of all the songs that were on the playlist and a few notes. In the meantime, iTunes had opened and started playing the songs. He allowed a small laugh to escape him at the first song and the note she had written to go with it.

It was a band called Guster's cover of 'Donde Esta Santa Claus?' and she had typed in italics, "for the Latin lover in you." The gift lifted the cloud that had previously settled on his mind. He knew he was being dramatic. He didn't rush things. He had meticulous plans for everything in his life, and Stephanie was no exception. And yet, she was. She always was the exception to every single rule in his life, every guideline he told himself to live by.

This gift was perfect. It was interesting to see how Stephanie interpreted his music preferences, with most of them being spot on. He had no idea she was that in tune with him. She gave him a large mix, all being Christmas themed, but as the second song came on, a smooth jazz instrumental of 'The First Noel,' he knew that he would be listening to this until Christmas. It fit him perfectly.

He sat there listening for longer than he'd like to admit. The songs were great. He divided them out like she had suggested and knew certain groups of songs would help her on a stakeout. He made a note in his calendar to schedule some time for them to go on one together in the next few weeks. Hell, they could stakeout his sister's house for all he cared.

As he shut his computer down, not intending to work all day Sunday, he could still hear the soft lyrics of a song Stephanie had noted as one of her favorites.

Is love alive?

Is love alive?

Is love alive?