JE created the characters below. I don't get any credit, except perhaps for the trouble they're in.

Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for your patient and thorough beta skills on this story.

Chapter 7 – Just Desserts

Stephanie's POV

I woke up for the third time this morning and realized since it was pushing noon I should probably get up this time. I stood under the shower and realized my shoulders were stiff and sore. I guess holding my dancing stance last night put more strain on them that I thought at the time.

I couldn't help but smile at the memory of dancing with Vince. I didn't need another reason to want to do this assignment but the feeling of moving in his arms would have been enough to firm up my commitment. When he dipped me slowly I never doubted his ability to hold me and bring me back up. Maybe I could use that as proof to Lester that I trusted Vince and get him to stop harping about it.

It had cooled down to eighty degrees from yesterday's ninety-one so I decided to only pull my hair back into a ponytail and not try to keep it off my neck entirely. It was still to hot to think about anything heavy so I found a light sundress that fell mid-thigh and paired it with some roman style strappy sandals.

I had a little time before dinner at my parents' house so I decided to go enjoy the free air conditioning at Haywood and work on the searches on Maggie's friends and relatives that I started yesterday.

Woody and Zip were in the control room arguing over the ideal car. I gave them a quick hello and went to my cubicle to get to work. Before my computer had booted up Cal leaned against my desk and began the conversation. "I would have thought you would have said something to me."

I looked at him for a minute trying to figure out if he was just digging for dirt or if he was genuinely hurt.

"When we said it was new, we weren't kidding," I responded honestly. "I guess I'd hoped for a chance to get my head around it first before going public, but the car thing kind of sped everything up."

He seemed to buy that, but instead of getting me a reprieve he slid back to sit on my desk and pressed, "Why him?"

"Do you mean why him instead of you or why him in general?" I wondered.

"Either," he replied, "Both."

I sat back in my chair and wondered if there was a correct way to answer this question. I finally decided to go with, "Because he asked."

"If someone else had asked first would you have gone out with them?" He pushed.

I shrugged, not able to see a good side to a conversation in hypotheticals. "I guess it would depend upon what they were offering and how they asked."

"Would you tell me if he hurt you?" Cal asked much softer.

"I don't think I'd need to. Something tells me you guys are watching us like hawks and you'd know it right away," I snapped.

He thought about that for a minute and conceded, "You're probably right." Then he added, "So it's definitely too late for someone else to tempt you with a better offer?"

I had to chuckle at his attempt to see if I'd go out with him. I didn't feel the least bit guilty in answering, "It's definitely too late for me to consider a relationship with anyone else." I mean, the one I had with Vince wasn't real and I was obviously too damaged to have anything serious with any of the guys. They deserved far better.

Fortunately, my internal dialogue stayed that way and Cal kissed my head before walking away, content with my answer. I spent the next few hours working on the searches, getting a few details about Maggie's life that I didn't know but still not coming up with the answer as to why she was in Trenton.

Getting frustrated with my lack of progress, I stood up and banged on the top of my desk. I don't know why I was so hung up on this, but my gut was screaming the connection that explained why she was here was vital to blowing this case open.

Hector came by after my loud display and said, "Chica, you okay?"

I pushed some hair away from my face that had slipped from my ponytail and replied, "I'm fine. I'm just mad because I'm not getting the answers I need."

He looked at me for a long moment in a way that made me slightly nervous that he was seeing more than he should and then he said, "Vince is in the gym. Maybe seeing him would help."

Now I was between a rock and a hard place. Damn, I had reverted back to rock analogies. While the expression technically made sense I typically thought of rocks as being smaller, and if you were truly between a hard place and a rock all you needed to do was step over the rock and go about your merry way. I always thought the expression should have said between a boulder and a hard place, but maybe that was just me.

I shook my head to clear the silly sidebar and saw Hector still watching me. "Maybe you're right," I told him placing a quick kiss on his tear drop tattoos before heading to the stairs to go to the second floor gym. I'd never done something that bold before and the look on Hector's face was priceless so I slipped away before he had a chance to yell at me for taking liberties.

I guess I now had to make an appearance in the gym, which meant our interaction was being monitored so it would need to be good. We hadn't spent the night together so this needed to be a reunion between two new lovers who had been apart seventeen hours. How much of a public display would be required to fool everyone?

When I opened the door to the gym I was relieved to only see Caesar and Erik sparring and Lester running on a treadmill. The other guys working out weren't part of the regular team I interacted with so I wasn't as worried about them.

I had to make myself walk to Vince because I knew it was expected, but my heart wanted to go to Lester because he looked like shit. If I didn't know better I would think he was desperately trying to run off a hangover.

Vince was punching a bag at the opposite side of the gym and was glistening with sweat while all his muscles seemed to be engaged in pounding the heavy leather bag. I stood there for a minute, just marveling at the grace with which he pummeled the object in front of him. It was a nice sight and I sighed briefly, feeling regret that I couldn't really greet him the way I'd like to after seeing his body on display like this. Then again, licking my tongue across his tanned salty chest was probably not appropriate in mixed company.

Finally, I forced myself to snap out of it and got close enough to put my hands on the back of the bag and lean into it. He stopped the second I touched the bag and his whole face lit up with a grin. He picked up a towel from the floor and began to mop the perspiration from his face.

Satisfied he wasn't dripping, he tossed the towel and leaned against the opposite side of the bag causing our faces to be close but the bag prevented our bodies from touching. I assumed the view from the camera would look like we were teasing each other. I felt like I needed to explain my presence so I said, "I was running a search on Maggie and hitting more dead ends than helpful leads. When I got frustrated and banged a little on my desk Hector came by and suggested you were in the gym and I might feel better if I saw you. I didn't mean to interrupt your workout but I didn't think I could say no to his suggestion either."

He smiled his sexy little grin and said, "I'm glad you came down. I was wondering what you were up to anyway."

"Apparently, I've just been killing time," I mumbled slightly disgruntled looking at the floor.

He put the knuckle of his index finger under my chin and lifted my face to look at him once more. "Every clue, no matter how small, gets us that much closer to helping those girls and ones like them."

I nodded, agreeing with him in principle but not really feeling it. "I was done here anyway," he began, apparently seeing I wasn't buying his encouragement. "Why don't you come up to my apartment with me and hang out while I shower. You can help me figure out what to wear to your parents' house and we can leave from here."

That sounded like a good idea so I stepped away from the bag and turned to walk away. I should have remembered we were being watched but when Erik called out, "Come on man, you mean you aren't even going to kiss your woman? It's going to make the rest of us think you don't have her all tied up and we might try to move in."

I glared up at him in the ring and said, "Erik, you insensitive jerk!" His expression was complete shock and priceless which is the only explanation I have for what I did next. "Vince was being a gentleman and not getting his workout sweat all over my dress since we are going out tonight. And for future reference, you need to be careful about trying to move in. I'm very happy where I am at the moment and you might find yourself being greeted by my knee instead of the smile you seem to think you deserve."

Caesar took Erik's distraction as a chance to place a blow to his stomach and while Erik doubled over from the force, I skipped out the door. I could hear the guys yelling to him about paying more attention to his surroundings.

"Is that what you meant about letting you handle the guys if they tried to make a move of their own?" He asked, pleased with how that worked out.

I nodded and was so pleased with myself I didn't react at first when Vince opened the stairwell door and started walking up the steps. We were approaching the second landing before I snapped out of my trance and said, "Is the elevator broken?"

"Come on, Bella, you can make it from here," he encouraged grabbing me by the hand and pulling me closer to him.

I decided to let it go this time but we'd have to negotiate the stairs at some point. I could agree to use them going down, but if I had to go against gravity then I wanted the elevator to help out.

He unlocked the door with a key that he had hidden somewhere in his tight gym shorts. I tried to push the though of where exactly it had been out of my mind. "I'm going to grab a shower," he informed me. "Make yourself at home."

When the bathroom door closed I looked around, unable to stop myself. He didn't have much in the way of personal effects, but there was a single picture of a slightly looking younger Vince with a guy that looked enough like him that I assumed it was his brother. They were flanked by a couple that I guessed were their parents. If that was Marco I wondered why he was considered the prized son. I mean, Vince was more handsome by far, and he carried himself with more strength and dignity than his brother. Of course, trying to figure out family dynamics was often a useless quest.

I wandered around looking at his movies and music collection. We had similar taste, which made me smile. He had an eighties rock collection that beat anything I could dream of or afford. Of course, if I spent as much money on music as I did on shoes I probably could have one just like this.

I was so distracted looking over the titles that I didn't hear the water shut off or the bathroom door open. When his voice said, "Feel free to put in some music if you want to hear something," I spun around and covered my mouth to keep the scream from slipping out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized.

That was a first. Most of the guys thought it was funny to scare me and I couldn't remember one ever saying they were sorry about it. "It's not your fault. I tend to get distracted easily and zone out."

He stood there, covered only in a towel as though togas were the new hip outfit for Army guys, and then asked, "Would you mind helping me figure out what to wear for dinner? I want to come across as respectable, but I need to try and get as much of an edge as possible to try and intimidate your Grandmother."

I couldn't help but laugh about that. "Don't bother. If you look too tough she'll take it as a challenge and refuse to back down. Let's just go for comfortable instead," I advised.

He motioned with an arm that I should go to his bedroom so I walked into his closet and began to look around. There was a lot of empty room in here. He always seemed nicely dressed to me, but apparently he wasn't a clothes horse. "Do you want to wear long pants or shorts?" I asked from the closet.

"Long, he replied before explaining, "It covers the ankle holster better."

"Ah, I forget. You guys are fashion slaves to your weapons," I teased.

He appeared in the doorway unexpectedly and replied, "Which is preferable in my book to being a slave to my shoes."

Touché.

I handed him a pair of olive Dockers and a white long sleeve dress shirt. "Do you not own any short sleeve shirts?" I asked, unable to find any.

"Only t-shirts and I'm not wearing a t-shirt to meet your father for the first time," he explained.

"You're going to burn up," I commented realizing I needed to get out of his bedroom so that he could change. My face must have turned several shade of red because he started to laugh and said, "No more so than you."

I flipped him off, more out of habit to being picked on than true offense at his statement. He must have realized that because his quiet snicker grew into a full blown laugh.

When he stepped out of the bedroom he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and I figured he had met the challenge pretty well of being trustworthy and dangerous looking at the same time. I could see the gun in the holster on the right side of his belt and assumed he was wearing one at his ankle since he brought it up. His left side had a holder that I thought contained a knife, most likely much sharper than my little Swiss army one. "Are you expecting much trouble at dinner?" I couldn't help but ask.

"No, why?" He seemed confused by the question.

"Because two guns and a knife seem like overkill of sorts," I explained.

His face lit up and he moved closer to me to say, "Three guns and two knives is the least amount of protection that I'd ever consider leaving home with."

I was reminded that Vince was a dangerous guy in his own right. I didn't think anyone could exude the edge of Ranger, and no one could compete with Tank for brute size. But when he wanted to, Vince could definitely lead the pack of Merry Men for fierceness.

He picked up a duffle bag and took my hand in his as we walked out of his apartment and ran into Brett in the hall. "You off for the weekend?" Brett asked us.

"Yea," Vince admitted. "I'll be offline too."

"Have fun you two," Brett called out as we walked away. Vince tried to stop to open the door of the stairs but I tightened the grip on his hand and took the extra twenty steps to get to the elevator instead.

He shook his head but didn't argue the point.

The ride to my parents' house was quiet. If anything he seemed nervous. I was used to that as most of the guys were afraid of my Grandmother above all other things. When he stopped the truck at the curb he asked, "Any last minute instructions?"

"Don't worry, I haven't lost one of you guys to Grandma Mazur yet." I couldn't help but tease and then added, "Stay close to my dad."

"It will add to the cover?" He asked, unsure of what my instruction meant.

I shook my head no before adding, "No, it will keep you safer because he and Grandma Mazur don't interact too much, and it will keep you away from my mother. She can be…" I had no idea how to describe it and finally just went with, "Harsh."

"Should I be worried about her?" He asked trying to get a picture of what he was up against.

"No, she usually reserves her claws for me," I said with a hint of resignation in my voice. I couldn't explain to anybody why I put myself through the torture of family dinners at my parents' house, but I just felt like I had to. They rarely ended well for me and I typically felt like a failure in one form or another by the time they were over, but I kept coming back.

My mother opened the door as we approached and I silently hoped Ranger had given him combat pay for this assignment. He was about to go up against an enemy unlike any he'd ever seen before. I could tell by the tight line of Mom's mouth that she wasn't pleased to see Vince beside me.

I said hello and introduced Vince as we walked past her. She was never blatantly rude, but her greeting wasn't exactly overly warm either. I took the hint when she pointed out Dad was in the den watching the game and took Vince in to introduce him.

Dad did a double take when we walked in and hit mute. It was an odd move because he rarely turned off the sound for any reason. I walked over and kissed his cheek and introduced him to Vince. My Dad looked at him suspiciously at first but stuck out his hand for a greeting and invited him to watch the game. I was glad to have him secured in the den and went off to see about my own fate for the evening in the kitchen.

As soon as the door swung open my mother started, with no apparent need to soften her voice to keep from being overheard. "Stephanie, what are you thinking bringing that man here?"

"What's wrong with Vince?" I asked confused. "You've never complained about me bringing people to dinner before."

"He's obviously one of those men you work with, but he looks…normal, almost respectable." She explained without bringing much clarity at all to the conversation.

"I would think that would make you happy. Aren't you always after me to have a normal, respectable relationship?" I wondered.

My mother crossed herself as though I'd just said something sacrilegious. "Of course I am. But those men you work with aren't family material and he looks normal enough that the neighbors might get the wrong idea and think you two are serious about each other."

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"What if this gets back to Joe? You have been so stubborn about him lately that I'm starting to worry he may not take you back and a rumor like you moving on might just put him over the edge so that he'll look for someone else." She finally gave me her real concern.

"I'm not going back to Joe," I said with no emotion in my voice.

"Why not Stephanie?" She asked, pretending to care what my answer was.

I thought about it for a while and then answered, "Because we make each other miserable and we'd never last. We are better as friends and if we stay together as anything more we'll end up hurting each other beyond what can be fixed." I briefly thought my honest answer was going to work this time because she didn't have an immediate answer.

When she told me to call everyone to the table for dinner I smiled thinking I might just get out of this evening in one piece for a change. I should have known it was too good to be true.

Vince sat between my dad and me, leaving Grandma Mazur to my left. My mother served the lasagna and we all dug in quickly with little conversation for the first few minutes. I was a little worried about how quiet Grandma had been but I hoped this was the universe's way of repaying me for all the awkward evenings I'd spent at this table and I was getting a free pass for once.

Half way through the meal my mother tried a new strategy. "Stephanie, I heard from Angie Morelli that Joe was worried sick over you when your car blew up the other day."

"I saw him at the scene and he didn't seem worried, he seemed mad," I clarified suddenly on edge about what Mom was trying to do.

"That's not how she described it. I think now that you've surrounded yourself with new people you've forgotten about the old friends that have seen you through the rough parts of your life," she warned.

"Joe didn't see me through any rough patches, he caused the rough patches," I countered.

"He had a nice ass though," Grandma finally chimed in. Perfect, now the Plum circus had opened two rings of the circus. "All the girls at the Clip and Curl loved to see him walk out of the salon. The way his pants hugged his backside makes you want to put extra sealant on your dentures to keep the hold when you take a bite out of it."

"Mother," my mom interrupted, "Stop making things up. Joseph does not go to the Clip and Curl."

My dad said, "Ti ho ditto che lei era pazza." (I told you she was crazy.)

Vince nearly choked on his lasagna, so I assumed he understood what my father had said. When he replied, "Si, che hai fatto," (Yes, you did) I had to stop and look between them to be sure I wasn't in the twilight zone. My father was actually talking at the dinner table. Sure it was in Italian which no one but Vince seemed to understand, but still he was talking. I guess the third ring of the circus was now open.

Grandma pulled my attention back by saying, "Officer hot cheeks didn't come in for a haircut, he would come by to see that mob woman with the long legs and fake boobs."

"Terry Gilman?" I asked getting mad about something I probably had no right to. "He's been coming by to see Terry lately?"

"No," Grandma corrected me with no hint of her usual teasing. "He's been coming by to see her for at last the last six months. He comes in just about the time she's finished and then the two of them go off together and he brings her back to get her car about two hours later."

"You see," Mom pointed out as though there was a conclusion one could draw other than the fact Joe was sleeping with Terry while we were still together. "He sticks by his friends and you need to learn to do the same thing."

I bit my tongue and said nothing, realizing in her eyes Joe was a saint and I was a sinner who needed to repent and beg for his grace and forgiveness. The whole idea made me want to storm out.

Grandma then changed tactics and said, "Of course, seeing the new fella you brought with you makes a woman want to forget the glue and take the teeth out to see what kind of trouble she can get into."

Dad said, "Le donna e pazza," before taking a long drink from his wineglass. (The woman is crazy.)

"Doveri essere spaventato?" Vince asked in smooth Italian, temporarily distracting me at how wonderful it sounded coming out of his mouth. (Should I be scared?)

Dad mumbled, "Terrorizzato," before digging into his dinner once more. (Terrified.)

Mom apparently got tired of being left out of the conversation between the men, not finding the flow of their words as beautiful as I did. "Frank, would you stop blabbering and talk some sense into your daughter?"

Dad sat up marginally and said, "She sounds like she's making sense to me."

I tried to hide my smile at Dad's confidence but Mom saw it and pounced. "Stephanie, trotting the men that you work with through the house isn't the best way to get back in Joseph's good graces. You need to stop playing and remember how old you are. It's time to get serious about settling down."

"Maybe I am serious about settling down, just not with Joseph," I responded quickly.

"If you decide not to settle down with this one, can I have him?" Grandma asked a little too eagerly. "I see a few bulges on him that I can't figure out and I'd like to try patting him down like they do on those cop shows."

Vince put his hand on my knee and I held it trying to assure him I wouldn't let her anywhere near any of his interesting bulges. Of course that didn't stop her from talking. "We could have fun playing good cop / bad cop just like they used to do on Dragnet. I've even got a set of cuffs in my room upstairs," she offered, pushing her chair back from the table as though she were going to get them.

"Mother!" Mom stopped her to my relief. "This man is not a cop. He's a hired killer that works with that group of assassins that Stephanie parades around with. Just like Joseph told us, they aren't to be trusted."

I wasn't sure what made me angrier, her believing Joe's word over mine about what happened at RangeMan, or the fact that she just insulted Vince in front of him assuming she knew anything about him. I would take a lot for myself, but I wouldn't stand for her insulting one of the guys. I stood up and threw my napkin on the table. "That's enough! If you chose to take the side of Joe over me then that's your business, but I refuse to ask someone with the honor of Vince to stay in this house for a moment more with you insulting him. He is no hired killer. There is no group of assassins at RangeMan, they are all good, decent men who do the jobs that have to be done that no one else has the courage to handle."

I looked at Vince and added, "I'm sorry you had to sit through this." I put my hand out which he took in his as he stood up. "Let's go," I said when he was on his feet.

My dad stood up and said, "Spero che tu tornerai. Lo saro gestire la madre. Questa e la prima volta in un tempo lungo, che ho visto la mia bambina ha ustao per il modo di agire e ho aspettato per anni per questo." (I hope you'll come back. I will handle her mother. This is the first time in a long time I've really seen my little girl and I've waited years for this.)

Even in the midst of the public display of lunacy from my family, hearing Vince reply almost made my knees weak. "Che sara a lei. Faro qualsiasi cosa che lei chiede di me, ma proteggere lei e la cosa piu importante in questo momento." (That will be up to her. I'll do anything she asks of me, but protecting her is the most important thing right now.)

Dad walked over to me and hugged me. It was slightly awkward as I couldn't remember him doing anything like that in years but it still felt good to know he wasn't mad about the way his dinner had been interrupted by another of my fights with Mom. "I like him," Dad whispered in my ear. I had a feeling it was because he liked talking Italian and since my mom refused to learn it had been a while since he'd used the language his parents spoke so frequently.

Dad walked us to the door and Vince shook his hand before we walked out saying, "Buonanotte, sir." (Goodnight sir.)

"Buonanotte figlio. Stephanie lo faccia sapere che gestire la madre." (Good night, son. Let Stephanie know I'll take care of her mother.) Dad replied to Vince staring hard at him, as though trying to tell him more than just the words he'd spoken.

We walked silently to the truck. My curiosity was killing me about what my Dad was saying. It was rare for him to speak at all, and even stranger still that he'd do it so intensely. When we pulled away from the curb I couldn't stand it any more and I blurted out, "Are you going to tell me what my Dad was telling you?"

Vince nodded and I let out a breath thankful he wasn't going to keep his secrets. "I'll tell you every word he said as soon as you tell me why you stood up and walked out of their house when you did."

I was confused by his question, but I wanted to know what my Dad had said so I told him the truth. "She was being rude and insulting you. I couldn't stay there if she was going to speak that way about you and the guys."

"But you let her speak just as poorly about you," he said as though that mattered.

"So?" I asked, unsure of his point.

"So you think we're worth defending and you're not?" He clarified my point.

"Yea, I think my mom will never understand me so I've given up on convincing her of the truth. But, I can't tolerate the way she treated you. It wasn't right and there is no way you should ever have to listen to that kind of trash."

"You know we've all killed people before, right? I mean, I'd love to tell you she was wrong about everything she said, but I've got blood on my hands just like the other guys do," he said as though he were nervous confessing that.

"Stop," I told him, but he kept driving. "Stop the damned truck!" I yelled louder, getting his attention this time so that he pulled over the curb and turned to face me.

"I know when you ran missions with the Army you were called upon to do some horrible things that other people couldn't do. But that is entirely different from calling you hired killers as though you shot people for the thrill and the fun of it. You guys have too much honor to ever talk about what it takes from you to do what you do and I refuse to let her belittle your sacrifices. She can talk about me however she wants to, but I'll be damned if I'll let her insult you."

Vince turned to face me and the expression on his face was something I absolutely couldn't recognize. It was warm, but it had equal parts confusion and surprise in there along with pride. The longer I looked in his eyes the more I felt a new charge to the atmosphere around us. Fortunately, he blinked giving me the chance to look away. If I didn't know any better it almost felt like he wanted to kiss me. But that was a ludicrous idea so I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't do anything to embarrass myself like lean toward him. This was just a role for him and I needed to remember that.

Finally he turned back to grip the steering wheel and said, "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked.

"I can't remember the last time someone stood up for me. I hope I can live up to your opinion of me," he explained. For the rest of the quiet ride to my place I felt warm on the inside. I may have missed dessert at my parents' house, but I felt like what I just got was a lot sweeter than anything my mother would have served.