Hey everybody... HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I want to thank everybody who took the time and reviewed the past chapter. Your comments made me smile and fed my drive to continue this story. Thanks so much.

Disclaimer as always: All the characters you recognize from the Stephanie Plum books belong to Janet Evanovich.


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The second chance

Chapter 3

December 25th, 1400 hours

Silently the group of four men fought their way through the thigh-high snow. Since twenty-nine hours they were on the move, just interjected by one three-hour break for sleep, and they were beyond outspent. Gritting their teeth, they kept putting one foot ahead of the other, their fatigues drenched and frozen in places. Any feeling in their wet, ice-cold bodies was long lost and their legs were shaking with complete exhaustion. Twenty-nine gruesome hours and whatever energy and stamina had been left back when they'd started their hike was long depleted. This was no longer about reaching their rendezvous safe and sound, this was about plain survival, about getting out of this alive at all. The constant snowfall had finally died down, but therefore the temperature had dropped to fifteen degree and they were in danger of freezing to death if they stopped moving. Every step was an agony and more and more often their knees buckled and it got harder and harder to straighten up and go on.

"Come on," Ranger urged his men on, his breath crystallizing in front of his mouth, instantly freezing in the beard that had grown over the past two weeks, as he tackled another snowdrift. "We are on the peak. I want to reach the protection of the tree line before darkness sets in."

His men were fighting, but there was just so much more they could do before their bodies would shut down. He had to get them to the safety of the trees and find shelter for a couple hours.

"We made it this far and I won't accept anybody giving up now. Remember your advanced training. You've been through much worse."

That wasn't entirely true because all through their training they'd been exposed to controlled situations and never faced a real struggle for survival, but he needed to keep them going. Ranger pushed his body through the drift, then stood aside and watched his men pass him. They looked like death walking, were all running a temperature, were dehydrated and hadn't eaten anything since eleven days. This time their enemy didn't come at them with bullets and explosives, their foe was within themselves and their iron wills to survive was the only weapon they had to their defense.

"Kaminski," Ranger called out to the man at the front. "Contact command while we're up here and give them our position."

Nodding, the young man dropped down onto his knees, unbuckled his backpack and grabbed his radio gear. His fingers were frozen stiff even though he was wearing gloves and he needed a few attempts, but finally the equipment was assembled and he searched for the right transmission channel.

"Hawkeye, this is Vulture one. Are you receiving me? Over."

The men tensely listened to the static noise in the radio, but nobody got back to them.

"Hawkeye, this is Vulture one. Come in, please."

Nothing. The only sound coming out of the radio was interferences. The men pressed their lips together and let their shoulders slump. Then, finally, a cracking.

"Vulture one, this is Hawkeye. We hear you loud and clear. What's your position?"

Ranger kept his blank face firmly in place, but Akroyd, Skip and Kaminski let go a breath of relief. Hearing the voice of the radio operator on base was like a snippet of home; comforting, something to hang on to, to give them strength and nourish their will to fight. Kaminski gave the operator their position, a summary of the events and their general condition, and agreed on a time for their pick-up with an alternative in case they wouldn't make it in time. Ranger looked at the faces of his men and could see the relief in them. It had been the right decision to try to contact the base. If it hadn't worked out, the whole plan had backfired and probably taken the last fight out of his men, signing their death certificate, but now he could see a glimpse of new found hope in their eyes. The chances that they would master the rest of the way down to the valley to their rendezvous had just increased.

"Okay men, get up," he ordered the three young men in front of him who staggered back to their feet. "You can see the tree-line below us. That's our destination. Once there we'll find us some shelter and rest for a while. We neither can light up a fire, nor can we risk falling asleep, but we can warm each other with our body heat so think puppy pile and start moving."


December 25th, nine o'clock in the morning

Steph sprawled in her bed under the sheets and tried to find the strength in her to open her eyes. Christmas morning. Finally it was there and nonetheless she couldn't feel the slightest joy and anticipation in her. She missed Ranger. Where was he? Was he doing okay? Was he in danger?

Sure he is; he's on a mission, moron, Steph mentally smote her brow and shook her head.

Was he thinking about her? Probably not if he was busy fighting for his life. But then again, perhaps the thought of her gave him strength to survive whatever the government had sent him into. Turning over onto her side, Steph snuggled deeper into the warmth of her bed and let a small tear trickle out of her eye.

Please come back to me, Ranger. I need you.

Just as she was on the verge of going back to sleep, Steph heard the locks at her front door tumble. What the hell? That couldn't be a stalker; not on Christmas morning, right? Perking up her ears, she lay on her side and listened to the sounds coming from the living room. Someone was moving around. There, that was the faucet in the kitchen. Stalkers normally didn't make themselves comfortable so she decided to give free reins to whoever had broken into her apartment and let nature run its course. She was way too comfortable to stand up and investigate.

In the end she must have fallen asleep again because a well-known warm voice and a warm, callous hand stroking her cheek brought her back from a peaceful slumber.

"Steph, honey, wake up."

"Uh, lemme sleep."

"No can do, sleeping beauty. It's Christmas and your nieces are waiting for you at your parent's place."

Opening her eyes, Steph blinked a few times before focusing on the handsome dark-skinned man lying next to her in her bed, propped up on one of his elbows and smiling down at her.

"Bobby, what are you doing here?" She asked, stopping the movement of his hand stroking her cheek to snuggle her face into his big palm.

"I'm your personal wake-up service and designated driver of the day," he grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. "It snowed the whole night and now it's freezing. Les and I don't want you to drive with your POS car with that much snow and ice on the streets. So we had an arm wrestling match over who would get to wake you up and bring you to your parents and I won," Bobby smiled over his whole face.

"There's something seriously wrong with you, Bobby Brown, if you are that happy about waking me up. Everybody knows I'm not a morning person."

"Bomber, every minute spent with you is a happy minute in my book. So come on and get out of bed. Coffee and donuts are waiting for you in the kitchen."

Bobby leaned over, pressed a lingering kiss on her brow and then stood up and walked out of the bedroom. Sniffing the air, Steph sighed at the mix of his Davidoff Cool Water and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. That was just the right incentive to get her moving. A quick look out of her bedroom window revealed the whole extend of the nightly snowfall. The cars were all completely snowed in, covered with two foot of fresh white magic, with the exception of one shiny black Rangeman Navigator that stood out between all those mountains of snow parked in the lot.

"I love the sight of your car looking all toasty warm in comparison to the rest," Steph called out towards the kitchen and smiled when she heard Bobby's laughter.

"Honey," he poked his head around the corner of her bedroom door. "I don't know about the toasty warm, but I can assure you that car loves you, too, as does the driver."

Bobby hesitated for a moment before letting a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "You know it needs just one word from you and Tank will get you a similar ride. You would do us all a big favor because none of us would need to worry about you any longer when you are out and about."

"Puh-leaze," Steph looked at him skeptically. "With my luck it would go boom before the ink on the insurance form is dry. It would be an inexcusable waste of money. And don't tell me you guys would stop worrying just because I drive a Rangeman-approved battleship."

"Well, perhaps we wouldn't stop worrying completely, but at least we wouldn't have to worry about your POS cars anymore and the danger they represent. Seriously, Steph, we would all feel better if we'd know that you drive a fleet car. And don't worry about insurance premiums. Rangeman is paying the highest premiums as it is, even without you accidentally blowing cars up. Any car the company would buy for you would be a tax-saving write-off object and in the end increase Rangeman's profit."

Bobby watched the wheels turning in Steph's head and mentally pumped his fist in the air. He stretched his hand out in her direction which she took and twirled her towards him until her back hit his chest.

"Think about it, okay?" he whispered in her ear and pressed a soft kiss against her temple. "And now go and get ready," he pushed her towards her bathroom and swatted her ass.

Half an hour later, Steph stepped into the living room, dressed in some elegant beige wool slacks, a white blouse and an electric blue cashmere camisole. Immediately, Bobby stood up from the couch he was sitting on, came over and drew her in a hug as though his life depended on having her close.

"What's going on, Bobby?" Steph asked against his chest. "I know you like to hug in comparison to some of the other guys, but today you are a real snuggle bear. Not that I complain."

Bobby squeezed her close to his chest before relaxing his arms, leaning back and looking down at her.

"You are right, hun. Please forgive me if I'm clingy, but Christmas is always a difficult time for me."

"Why is that? All the past years you seemed to do okay."

"That's because I'm good at hiding my emotions," Bobby smiled sheepishly. "Plus we weren't as close as we are now."

"Tell me. What's going on?"

"Well," he took a step backwards, but kept her hands in his. "You know how unloving I grew up. You and Rangeman are all I have. I've become friends with a few of the guys, but we aren't really close. Not as close as you and I are. When I'm off work I like to talk and I'm sensitive and caring. I don't say that the other guys aren't, but showing these traits isn't much appreciated. Every one of them has their chosen persona established that they hide behind and don't deviate from. Anyway, Christmas always shows me quite plainly how alone I am and I have a hard time dealing with that."

Steph threw her arms around his neck, pulled his head down and pressed a couple loving kisses on his cheek.

"You are not alone," she snuggled as close to him as was humanly possible. "You have me and Lester and Tank and all the other guys. And whether they are capable of showing what you mean to them or not; we are your family."

"I know," Bobby sighed. "It's just… it's not a real family. I'm not sure how to explain what I'm feeling without sounding whiny, but I have always dreamed of being part of a big, loving family, of being a son, a brother, an uncle, a nephew and cousin, and perhaps eventually a husband and dad. And now look at me. I'm nothing of that. My parents disowned me; I have no aunts or uncles or grandparents; I'm alone."

Steph leaned back and looked up into his sad chocolate brown eyes and it broke her heart.

"You, Bobby Brown, are my adopted brother and the most wonderful friend I can wish for and I won't allow you suffering the blues and being depressed over something that we can't change. At least not now. As much as I wished I could, I can't conjure up a family for you like the one you've always dreamed of. The only chance to become a part of something like that is if you find a woman with a big family that will welcome you in their midst. We can work on that. I promise I will help you. But for now, you have to be content with being loved by me. Can you do that?"

Bobby smiled and pulled her back into a tight embrace. "Yes, I can, honey. For you I do everything." After a moment he let her go and took a step back to take in her appearance. "You're a sight for sore eyes; elegant and beautiful. You mother will be pleased. Not that that should matter in any way."

He led her over to the couch, quickly went to the kitchen to fix her a mug of coffee and brought it back to her together with a plate holding two donuts.

The moment the first mouthful of black magic hit her taste buds Steph was in heaven. Bobby had concocted the perfect mixture of coffee, sugar and cream and she moaned in bliss.

"It's a very good thing that my feelings for you are strictly brotherly," Bobby laughed as he pulled her feet on his lap and started to massage them. "Otherwise I'd be in a world of pain now."

"It's not my fault," Steph mumbled around a mouthful of Boston Cream, "that you prep a perfect mug of coffee and bring my favorite donuts. And now you are even massaging my feet. I'm putty in your hands."

"I like to make you happy, that's all."

"So," Steph licked her fingers in gusto after she had finished her second donut. "What are your plans for today after you brought me to my parents?"

"I'm not sure. Guess I will go to my office, stock up the infirmary and push some papers around until it's time to pick you up again," Bobby shrugged, but couldn't hide the sad expression on his face quickly enough.

"Give me your phone," Steph held her hand out.

"Why?"

"Just give me your phone. I'm way too comfortable to stand up and pick up mine from the kitchen counter."

Bobby reached for his cell phone clipped to his cargoes and placed it in Steph's waiting hand.

"Mom?" Steph started to speak after she quickly dialed the number she knew in her sleep. "This is Stephanie. Would you mind if I bring a friend along? He has no family other than me and I don't want him to feel lonely on this special day... thanks mom, see you in a few."

"Steph," Bobby looked at her when she handed him his phone back. "That's not necessary. Christmas is special. I don't want to impose on your family."

"Nonsense. My mother is looking forward to meeting you. After telling her that you have no family of your own you can be sure to be stuffed with cooked love by her. Besides it will be a blessing to have you with me with all the bedlam that will erupt once the kids are allowed to open their presents. With a little luck my mother will even refrain from pushing me towards Morelli with you there."

"But I'm just in my black cargoes, shirt and Rangeman hoodie."

"That's okay. Don't worry about what you wear. Your presence is all that counts."

"But I have no presents," Bobby tried to object again, looking uncharacteristically insecure.

Steph grabbed his hands and squeezed them before stroking his cheek. "Stop making excuses. Nobody expects you to have presents. Just be there with me and we'll have a good time. What do you think?" She searched his eyes expectantly. The moment Steph could see agreement settle in she lunged at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Okay, okay," Bobby laughed at her exuberance and stood up with Steph in his arms as though she weighed nothing. "I agree to come with you and celebrate Christmas with your family, but then let's move. I don't want to be late if your mom is so gracious to accept me as an unexpected guest."

Five minutes later they approached Bobby's black Navigator. It had nonskid chains mounted to its wheels and shone even though the sun wasn't shining.

"Ma'am, your chariot awaits you," Bobby bowed with a flourish. "Please, let me help you."

He went over to the car, opened the passenger door, then came back, picked up Steph and carried her to her seat so she didn't have to step into the deep snow.

"You are such a gentleman, Mr. Brown."

"I do my very best, milady," Bobby smiled back at her, kissed her hand and then moved around the car to the driver's door.

He drove them carefully through a snow-covered Trenton, the wheels of the Navigator not once losing their hold, the interior toasty warm and cozy as they talked about nothing particular.

"Aunt Stephie, aunt Stephie," Angie and Mary Alice jumped up and down when Steph entered the living room, closely followed by Bobby.

"Hey girls," she dropped down onto her knees and hugged her two nieces. "How are you? Are you already excited about what Santa brought you?"

"Yeaahhh," the two girls squealed, and then looked at the big man standing behind their aunt. "Aunt Stephie," Angie whispered. "Who's that?"

"That's my friend Bobby," Steph answered, standing up and grabbing Bobby's hand. "He'll celebrate with us today. Bobby, these are my two of my three nieces. Angie who loves to read and color, and Mary Alice who is a beautiful horse."

Bobby squatted down and smiled at the two girls. "Angie, Mary Alice, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Steph," Stephanie's mom suddenly rushed into the living room. "I thought I heard your voice. Who let you in? I didn't hear the doorbell."

"Albert opened the door for us. Merry Christmas, mom. This is my friend Bobby."

"Bobby," Mrs. Plum quickly dried her hands in her apron, never forgetting her Burg manners. "Merry Christmas. It's a pleasure to have you with us today."

"And what a hottie he is," Grandma Mazur chimed in, looking Bobby over and clicking her dentures. "Can I lick your skin? I want to know whether you taste like chocolate."

"Mother."

Grandma Mazur's eyes where shining as she eyed the front of Bobby's cargoes. "Is it true that black men are hung like horses?"

"Mother!"

"What? It's not my fault that you're a dud in the sack and can't appreciate the male anatomy."

Much to Steph's and her mother's surprise, Bobby doubled over with laughter.

"Mrs. Mazur," he wheezed between guffaws. "I can assure you I don't taste like chocolate and I'm definitely not hung like a horse, but if you are nice, keep your lips zipped and don't try to feel me up for the time I'm here, I'm willing to meet you under the mistletoe and give you a kiss as my Christmas present so you have something to tell your lady friends."

Before anybody could recuperate from the shock, Grandma Mazur grabbed Bobby's hand and pulled him with her until they stood under the mistletoe. Bobby grinned over his whole face as he looked down at the gleaming eyes of the small woman in front of him.

"I like you. You are special," Grandma said smiling up at him.

"Oh, nothing special here. I'm just thankful that I have your wonderful granddaughter in my life and that for a few hours I can be part of this family. You ready?"

Grandma Mazur's eager nodding caused Bobby to chuckle. Gently he cupped Grandma's face with both his hands and lowered his head. When he was a couple inches from her face, he smiled, looked into her eyes and said, "the lips stay zipped," before lowering his face the last two inches and pressing a short kiss on the elderly's mouth.

When he straightened back up you could have heard a pin drop. Mr. and Mrs. Plum, Albert, Valerie and Steph stood frozen in place, completely shell-shocked, and Grandma Mazur looked as though she'd swoon any moment. The only one unperturbed was the 6'2" black man smiling at them.

"Mrs. Plum," Bobby stepped forward, breaking the silence. "I wish you and your husband a merry, merry Christmas. Thank you for inviting me on such a short notice. It's really generous to let me be part of your Christmas celebrations and I'm sorry that I'm not properly dressed and come without presents for you and your family."

"Nonsense. You are warmly welcome, Bobby. Nobody should be alone on Christmas day," Steph's mother came out of her stupor and shook the offered hand. If there was one thing Steph could count on it was the proper manners of her mother and her motherly heart, even if the only way for her to express her love was with food.

The following hours passed by in a blur. Grandma Mazur was smitten with Bobby and on her best behavior. Not once did she try to feel him up but instead pampered him together with Steph's mother as though he was the long lost son. Steph couldn't believe what she saw and watched the scenes unfolding in front of her eyes with amusement. Her friend was positively glowing, the sadness in his eyes completely gone. He talked with Albert and Valerie, took Angie and MA out in the backyard to build a snowman, cuddled with little Lisa, even enticed a few words from Mr. Plum, but Steph's favorite moment was when they opened the presents under the Christmas tree and her mother handed Bobby a beautiful tin with a big bow filled with home-baked cookies. The abundance of emotions flying over his face were heart-warming and when he blinked his eyes as though he was fighting tears that were not allowed to fall, Steph took his hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly. No gift in the world could have elicited such a joy as watching Bobby's happiness. Well, perhaps aside from having Ranger back.


December 25th, 1630 hours

Darkness was setting in and they still hadn't reached the tree line. Ranger looked at the men behind him, wheezing and staggering and cursed. Another storm had moved in, clawing at them, and the temperature dropped further to perceived five degree, their bodies in their wet frozen clothes on the edge of hypothermia. Every breath hurt like hell, every step demanded all the willpower they had.

"Nobody gives up, understood?" He shouted over the wind. "Get your night vision devices ready. We will reach the tree line. Think of your families, your girlfriends. They need you to come home."

Ranger felt the exhaustion in his own body, knew he was long past his limit, but his iron will kept him going. His fighting spirit, his attention was solely focused on their survival. Watching Akroyd, Skip and Kaminski pass him, he suddenly felt the snow move under his feet. All four men came to a sudden stop and looked at each other with dread in their eyes. Then the earth opened its gruesome mouth under them and they fell into the dark deepness of a crevice.


A/N: Come on, Babes. Where are you? Twenty-four reviews for two chapters are by far not enough :-)