Everyone and anything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.

Chapter 4

Ranger's POV

I nodded a greeting to Woody and Ram as I passed them in the garage on their way out for a patrol as I was finally only seconds away from being home.

"Glad you're back, Sir," Ram said to my back.

It took effort, but I did manage to stop my forward progress that would get me to my wife and daughter, just to answer him.

"No more than I am," I replied.

Both men grinned, knowing and likely picturing how happy Stephanie will be when she realizes that I'm home. Just the thought of her reaction had my boots pointed back towards the elevator. I wanted the quickest, less crowded route to get to seven so the stairs aren't an option tonight.

I made no sound as I got my key in my hand and entered our apartment. It was dark aside from a nightlight by the front door and another one in the kitchen. Hearing Steph swear more than a seasoned Soldier when she stubbed a toe or bounced-off a door jamb, had me adding subtle lighting to the apartment under the glare she'd been shooting me because she wasn't also gifted with what she calls 'Superhero-sight'.

As much as I wanted to feel my wife wrapped around me again, I had to check on my daughter first so I can see with my own eyes that nothing had happened to Ava while I've been gone. Some may say - not in front of Stephanie if they're at all smart because she will give her opinion on the matter with four barrels, not just two - that having a child when you're still being deployed or agreeing to Special Duty missions, seems selfish. But knowing how easily death can come ... makes us love twice as hard all those we care about, and with a concentration that can be disconcerting to those not braced for it.

Standing between my family and a bad guy overseas, to me, is the same as if I stepped between them and an armed gunman here. However I can protect my family, I will ... with honor, no hesitation, and also with no thoughts beyond making the world better and safer so I can get back and enjoy more time with my Babe and baby.

Knowing Steph, I would've thought she'd keep our daughter's bassinet as close to her as possible while I was gone just so she wouldn't feel alone, but Ava is sleeping on my side of the bedroom where remnants of my life are all around her. My wife not only decided she is going to hold down the fort, she's clearly holding down the bed for us, taking up as much of the mattress as she physically could, lying almost diagonally across the center of it with her left arm outstretched towards Ava. My heart twisted, even in sleep Stephanie is trying to be both parents to our daughter. Despite there being only a foot or two between them, the baby monitor is on Steph's nightstand, turned on and doing its job.

I put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't let any sound escape as I looked down at my world. Ava's eyes are closed in peaceful sleep, with her long lashes resting against her cheeks. Her lips are together but slightly pursed as if concentrating even in her dreams. And her arms are splayed like she's open to hugging the entire globe. With everything in me, I wanted to pick her up, curl my body protectively around her, and never let her go. Instead, I kissed the tips of my index and middle fingers and barely brushed them along her cheek while mouthing 'Daddy loves you more than anything', being careful not to disturb her. What I walked away from this time was disturbing enough.

I stood there for another moment, silently thanking everybody and anything that played a part in making sure I made it safely back to my family. Unlike most, I have a choice not to go, but if evil has been allowed to reach our front door ... it'll be too late to contain it. Being a husband and a father means my job is to provide for my family and protect my wife and daughters at all costs. And I would die doing it - here or there - if I had to. Fortunately, the devil hasn't had the pleasure of meeting me yet ... and he won't for a long time as far as I'm concerned.

With one more glance at Ava as I sent her a mental 'I love you', I made my way to the other side of the bedroom. I picked up the scent of my wife before I'd even entered the bedroom ... a unique blend of my shower gel, her cake-scented shampoo, and a hint of the baby soap that lingers after any contact with our daughter.

I just stood there framed by the window, its molding digging into my shoulder as I leaned back and looked my fill of the woman who continues to haunt and heat my dreams no matter where I am. This being a quicker job than most didn't alter how much I missed her during it.

I crossed my arms over my chest, savoring the sight of the curls not willing to stay contained to just her side of the bed or only one pillow. I recognized the shirt creeping up the legs I've wanted to settle myself between before I'd even left her, as the long-sleeved T-shirt I was wearing the day before I had to leave. It has 'Rangeman' printed in white down the sleeves rather than embroidered in black on the chest.

I may have been gone, but Stephanie was determined to keep the memory of me alive and well here at home. I hated to wake her up, knowing from our calls that Ava's typically a reluctant sleeper when I'm away, but I couldn't stop myself from approaching our bed. I slid in behind her and told my body to stand down when it came into contact with hers.

"If my neck tingle and the muffled sound of your particular boots crossing our carpet didn't wake me up five minutes ago," my wife whispered to me as she shifted her position, her sleep-deprived rasp doing nothing to tamp down my need for her, "it's possible you'd be shot right now. You didn't tell me you were on your way back. Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?"

"I wanted to surprise you," I said, pushing her curls aside with my chin so I could kiss her throat.

"I am surprised," she continued as quietly as I spoke, turning in my arms so she could face me, "and also so damn happy that you're home. It sucks not being able to just stick my head in your office to know you're okay, or call you whenever Ava is doing something noteworthy ... which is a lot of the time. I think the guys debate running whenever they see me coming now just so they won't have to hear another baby story. I may be biased because she's our daughter, but Aves does something amazing at least every hour."

"Tank already told me about the competition the men had come up with ... whoever does the best in the gun range wins the opportunity to check on the two of you, so they're running to you, not away. And you're about as biased as I am regarding our daughter, so I agree that just the fact that she exists is pretty incredible."

"Your daughters missed you almost as much as I have. Julie calls every night after her supper to see if there's another message you wanted me to pass onto her, and to get some time with her sister. And I swear Ava's brown eyes get darker as she scans the room looking to see if you're somewhere in it."

I tensed, hating to miss any moment I could've had with my children. Steph cupped my jaw in her hand and kept my face immobile, like she could read my expression in the dark bedroom.

"I didn't say that to make you feel bad," she said in a quiet tone that had nothing to do with trying not to wake up our baby. "I wanted you to know just how much Ava loves you ... that even without your face on a screen or your voice in her ear, she can feel that you're out there watching out for her."

I buried my face in her neck, not wanting to admit this any other way. "I needed to hear that."

"I know, but that's not why I said it. We hate not being able to go everywhere with you to watch your back ourselves, but we understand why you have to go ... and we'll always be here when you get back."

"I don't deserve you."

"No ... you deserve way better, but I'm never going to give you up, so consider yourself stuck with me for at least three consecutive life sentences."

"As if I'd ever want a less pleasurable 'punishment'," I told her.

I lifted my head and then quickly lowered it again to kiss her. I didn't want to release her body or her mouth even after our lungs insisted we needed to go to opposite corners for a minute to regroup. Fortunately for me, I married the woman who thinks exactly as I do, and Steph wasn't interested in separating our bodies either. I'd intended to go as slow as we could, but my wife had a desperation that was separate from my own. My belt was removed, but my shirt, pants, and boots, stayed on ... just opened and pushed aside wherever Stephanie wanted access to me.

Me being partially clothed may have been acceptable to her, but dreaming of having Stephanie naked in my arms again, I worked fast to make that a reality. I tugged her arms from the sleeves of my Rangeman shirt and pulled it off of her, and then she lifted her hips slightly so I could slide her panties down her legs. Once all I saw was silky-soft skin, I replaced her sleepwear with my body and proceeded to kiss, lick, and suck, every part of her that I know wrings out that specific sound she makes, which is a cross somewhere between a mew, sigh, and a very satisfied moan.

After she'd exploded once without more than a well-placed touch and kiss, I got up and removed my boots and wife-wrinkled clothing. I rejoined her on our bed and prayed that Ava will sleep long enough for me to refill my reserves when it comes to her mother. Steph climaxed twice more before we both felt it was alright to leave each other alone long enough to sleep.

A soft 'Ah' followed by a semi-cry almost an hour later, woke me from the first moderately-sound sleep I've had since I'd left Trenton.

"I'll get her," I whispered, as Steph slid her legs out from under the covers before she was even fully conscious.

"If you want, there's a bottle of Mommy-milk in the fridge that I keep replacing ... not that I was hoping and praying that you'd be home really soon and want to be included in feeding time at our zoo."

I kissed her bare shoulder. "I love you."

"I know. And I love you even more now that I may be able to sleep a few extra minutes."

"I've got her now. Get some rest," I said, but she was so exhausted ... as soon as she knew Ava was in good hands, she went lights out automatically.

It was almost like old times, when I used to attempt to get Steph up for an early-morning run and she was so physically against the idea ... she'd try to meld herself to her mattress so she wouldn't have to leave it. I quickly tugged on my pants and went over to say a middle of the night 'good morning' to my daughter.

"Hey, Ava," I whispered to her. "Daddy's home."

I leaned over the bassinet and scooped up my baby like I'd wanted to do a few hours earlier. I find it ironic that only yesterday I was called one cold-assed son of a bitch, a compliment full of respect in this case, and now I'm holding my baby girl as if she has 'HANDLE WITH CARE' printed on her cactus-covered pjs. She doesn't, but I've long since learned how to treasure what I have because I know I can lose it at any time. I kissed her forehead and cradled her little body like it's the first time I held her, one hand curled around the back of her head with my other arm holding her securely to my chest.

"Your Mama said I can have the honor of feeding you if that's why you couldn't sleep," I murmured softly in case just a wet diaper or a change in the force woke her and sleep is still an option. A quick diaper-check proved she's still alright in that department, but the tiny mouth opening and closing against my neck suggested she is her mother's daughter and woke up hungry.

"I can take a hint," I said, after another kiss, this time to the silky strands covering her head.

I found her company as irresistible as I do Stephanie's. I ordered the water to warm her bottle faster so Ava's 'I'm hungry' noises won't turn into full-on wails, and then I took us both into the living room and got settled on the couch. I was smart enough to have grabbed a bib from the clean stack Ella had left on the kitchen counter, and I tucked it under the bottle just before Ava latched onto it.

I quietly told her about the country I'd just left, how cold Winter high in its mountains can be, and while thinking of the men and families I'd just spent the best and worst of times with ... how heroes don't exist solely in her story books. I omitted the parts of my mission that would pass my nightmares onto her. I hope like hell that she never has to know what a body looks like when three-quarters of it is missing, how the scent of burning flesh stays with you long after the explosion has been cleared and the funerals are over, or how the red mist of an exiting head wound can contaminate more than just the wall behind the enemy.

Those are the memories I kept to myself as I clung to my daughter, trying to convey that she - and children like her, alive and those killed by men who didn't deserve to live a second longer than it took me to find them - are why I do what I have to. When Ava pushed the bottle out of her mouth with her tongue, I shifted her to my shoulder … and with an amused grin, I hoped only a burp would come out with my gentle rub/tap on her back.

My daughter didn't seem inclined to move afterward, only shifted around enough so she had something solid to hold onto. Since I hadn't bothered with a shirt, she settled for snuggling her face into my neck and curling her impossibly-small hand around the ball of my shoulder joint before syncing her heartbeat with mine and blinking herself back to sleep. I kept one hand on her and slid further down the arm of the sofa, profoundly grateful that I have the opportunity to make up for some of our lost time. Ava and I were still lying on the couch when Stephanie woke back up and came looking for us almost two hours later.