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

A/N: This story isn't beta-ed. Any grammar faults or spelling errors are not to be considered flaws or defects but inhence the individual beauty :)


Chapter 7

Ranger was sorting folders into a cabinet when Roque stepped into the office and silently closed the door behind him.

"Pérez," Ranger nodded turning toward him.

Without warning Roque's fist connected hard with Ranger's face throwing him backward into the wall next to the cabinet. Unconscious Ranger crumbled to the floor.

"Damn, Pérez. Where's your control? You are better than that," Roque scolded himself as he went over to the man on the ground and calmly checked his vitals. Steph won't be happy about this, he thought as he lifted Ranger's unconscious form over his shoulder and carried him to the couch.

Once he'd laid him down on the soft upholstery Roque glanced around the room. Everything was immaculate, the furniture made of dark mahogany and imposing, the desk with the huge black leather swivel chair the center of the room. Narrowing his eyes at the swivel chair and the opposite guest chairs Roque rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Yep, exactly as I thought," he summarized once he'd seated himself first in a guest chair and then in Ranger's swivel chair.

The legs of the guest chairs had been minimally shortened so Ranger could be sure to always throne over his vis-à-vis. One of the many subtle mind games he was playing. Everything about him was about control, dominance and intimidation; it was the secret of his success.

Roque had met many Special Forces soldiers over the years who worked this way and each of them was most successful; but he also knew the lonesomeness in them. When they lay wounded in front of him, their bodies hyped up by the adrenalin rushing through them, their only thought, their only demand was to get back into combat because there was nothing to come home to. Sometimes he could fulfill their wish, patch them together and send them off into the field; but sometimes it simply wasn't possible. Then he would pack them up, often enough against their will, and bring them to the next field hospital where they'd pace around like caged animals, their only focus to get away as soon as possible.

"That's not the kind of life I'd ever want to lead," Roque murmured as he stood up from the swivel chair and went over to the cabinet where he found two whiskey tumblers and a half full bottle of best Bourbon.

"God damn," Ranger groaned as he came around a couple minutes later.

"Take a sip from the Whiskey and you'll feel better," Roque raised his glass at Ranger. He was sitting on the desktop, his feet planted on one of the guest chairs and eyed the man on the couch speculatively.

"That," he pointed at the bruise starting to blossom on Ranger's cheek, "was for the law suit and for stringing my woman along."

"So she's your woman now?" Ranger swallowed some of the Bourbon, leaned back against the cushion and closed his eyes against the stabbing headache.

"Exactly," Roque was as cool as a cucumber. "And I won't tolerate any doubt about it. I know about the lines you fed her, about the DeChooch deal, about you sending her back to Morelli the next morning, about the kissing and groping just to push her back again when things got too tight. The days of you manipulating her are over, Mañoso – once and for all. I hope you'll be smart enough to save your friendship with Steph, you can even call her Babe should she still be comfortable with that; but keep your hands and mouth to yourself. We clear?"

Ranger scrutinized the medic and warrior sitting so confident on his desk. The thought of losing his Babe hurt; but he guessed he could be glad that he lost her to someone as capable as Pérez.

"You'll just loose her if you're gonna let that happen. You can still be her best friend. I'd like to see you being her best friend," Roque said into the stillness of the room.

"You want me to be the best friend of your wife?" Ranger asked disbelieving.

"If you can stick to the rules – yes."

Roque slid down the desk and seated himself on the couch next to Ranger. For a long quiet moment he swirled the amber liquid in his glass before gulping it down in one draft.

"I'll have to leave for Afghanistan in three days. I need someone here who keeps an eye out for Steph, who protects her and who'll take care of her should anything happen to me."

Roque pealed his eyes away from the now empty tumbler and looked straight into Ranger's eyes.

"Can I trust you with the life and emotional well-being of my wife?"

Ranger felt goose bumps running down his spine. He knew Pérez disliked him and he had every right for it; nonetheless the man asked him to take care of Steph.

"Yes," he replied, his voice firm. "By my honor, I promise you to take care of her, to protect her and be there for her should she need me or, god forbid, should something happen to you."

"Good," Roque nodded and offered Ranger his fist to bump knuckles.

"Why me?" Ranger asked as Roque stood and walked toward the door.

"Because she loves you," he replied over his shoulder. "I could ask any of the men I know here; Woody, Cal, Ram, Zip. Without a doubt they'd jump at the chance to help me; but Steph loves you most, trusts you unconditionally and the best is merely enough for the woman I love."

"But be sure Mañoso, be very sure," Roque turned around and nailed Ranger with cold, emotionless eyes. "Should you step out on your promise or should you betray my trust in you in any way, they won't find enough of your body to send home to your parents. I'll make sure of that."

As the door to his office silently shut behind Pérez, Ranger sat on his couch and felt stunned by Roque's courage and strength. Not his physical power; but his ability to trust. Ranger could count on one hand how many people he deemed trustworthy. He knew the medic was a good man, most likely the best in his profession; but the depth and sincerity of the man's character that he just witnessed, threw Ranger for a loop.

After they'd visited some more with the Rangemen and Steph had been thoroughly smothered with hugs, kisses and congratulations, Roque took her to Shorty's for some pizza and ice cream.

"Call them, Darling. They won't bite your head off," Roque squeezed Steph's hand.

He'd watched for the last ten minutes how Steph silently sat at the table, worrying her bottom lip, clasping and unclasping her hands and stared at the cell that laid next to her ice cream bowl.

"You have no idea," she sighed. "They are nothing like your family."

Roque pulled Steph over onto his lap and laid the phone in front of them.

"I'm right at your side; every step of the way. Whatever they say, I am here and together we'll master any challenge thrown our way," he squeezed her and pressed a soft kiss on her neck.

Squaring her shoulders, Steph took the phone and dialed.

"Mom? I wondered whether I could come over for dinner tonight? No, you won't invite Joe, I'm bringing someone myself. A man. They are no thugs, they are my friends. Mom, that's none of your business. If that's your opinion then we can skip dinner. Yes, mom. Laters."

"Six p.m. on the dot," Steph turned to Roque, "or it will be our fault that dinner is ruined."

With five minutes to spare, the two of them arrived at the Plum residence. At the curb in front of the house was parked none other than Joe Morelli's cherry red Jeep. Silently she stared at the 4x4, pressed her lips together and squinted her eyes against the unwanted tears.

"Why," she whispered. "Why is she doing that? Why is she ignoring anything I say? Why can't she simply like me and be happy with me the way I am? Don't I mean anything to her?"

Roque heard the tear-stricken voice and saw how desperately Steph fought to keep her composure.

"What is it, Darling? What's wrong?"

Wordlessly Steph pointed at the Jeep in front of them.

"That's Morelli's car. I told her not to invite him; that I'd be bringing a guest," she turned to Roque. "I don't want to do this. She will say something hurtful to you. Let's just fly to Atlanta and get married and I send them a card."

"If that's what you really want, Steph, we'll do that; but I'm sure it will make things just more difficult for you when we ignore them. I'll be gone for the next nine months and I don't want to leave you exposed to even more hostility from them than you already have to endure."

Sniffing, Steph nodded and squeezed his hand. "You are right. Let's do it; but you can't offend, let alone attack, Morelli. He's an officer and asshole enough to put you behind bars just so we can't get married before you leave."

"Got it, Ma'am," Roque tipped his head and smiling gave Steph a peck.

"It's about time, Steph," Helen Plum greeted them at the door. "What would the neighbors think when they see you sitting in a car rather than coming inside. Beside, Joseph is waiting for you. It's disrespectful of you to let him wait after he's taking the night off just to see you."

"Mom, about that. I made …"

"God Steph, get in here. You look stupid just standing there in the open door. Thanks to you we'll be the topic of the neighborhood gossip for days on end. Get in. And clean your shoes. The last time you came over the whole first floor was covered with the dirt you constantly carry around with you. Just one visit from you and I had to clean again for hours."

"Mom, if you could stop talking for a moment I'd like to introduce…"

"And how are you walking around?" Mrs. Plum continued, scrutinizing Steph disdainful. "No make-up and those clothes. Is it really necessary to run around like this? You aren't getting younger, Steph. You've always struggled to look pretty and keep up with the normal girls. Honestly, look at you now. You couldn't even bother prepping yourself for dinner. Joseph won't like that. He's a good looking man, he can have any woman he wants so you need to take care to cover up all your shortcomings."

Roque was long past bristling. Pulling Steph back against his chest, he wrapped both arms around her and held her tight. He'd expected a certain measure of degradation from what Steph and the guys at Rangeman had told him; but certainly not this."

"Mrs. Plum, if I may introduce myself…," he started politely.

But his words were completely ignored as Steph's mother turned and hollered toward the kitchen, "Joseph, Steph is here."

A moment later a 6' tall man with dark hair and olive skin tone entered from what Roque assumed was the kitchen. His build was athletic; but by no means as brawny as Steph's so called merry men or he himself.

"Hey Cupcake, 'bout time you get here," Morelli started; but stopped in his tracks when he saw Steph snuggled into Roque's protective arms and his more than possessive stance. He surely wasn't a fearful man; but the hostile stranger across from him made Morelli pause and watch his words.

"Long time no see, Cupcake. Who's your friend? Another one of Mañoso's goons?"

"Joe, I'm sorry you're getting in the middle of this; but my mom overstepped her bounds by inviting you though I clearly told her not to," Steph looked pointedly at her mother. "And since you are silent for a moment, mom, I'd like to introduce you to Roque. Chief Master Sergeant Miguel Roque Pérez to be exact. He's my fiancé and we're going to marry the day after tomorrow."

For the fraction of a second the silence was deafening before Helen Plum started to lay into Steph.

"What nonsense are you talking about? Stephanie Michelle Plum, you sure as hell won't marry some random spic. It's time you finally grow up, marry Joseph and give him some nice babies as it's your duty. He can offer you a stable life with a sure income. Stop being such a disappointment. Your father and I haven't paid your college so you can now embarrass us every chance you get. Are you aware your father still has to pay installments for your wedding to Richard? Instead of flouncing around with these thugs you should think about what's wrong with you that you apparently can't hold a man's attention."

Steph paled in the face of her mother's words. She had never been this cruel before.

"Mom, the dick cheated on me. Are you telling me that it was my own fault? That I deserved that? And Roque is no thug. He's an Air Force pararescueman; he saves lives, mom. He's the most honorable and respectable man I know."

"I don't care what he is or does. Look at him. He's a Mexican. You know there can be nothing good expected from them. He'll get himself killed and leave you as widow with a bunch of half-spics; but don't think we'll help you then. You marry him, you don't need to come back to us ever again."

"ENOUGH!" Roque suddenly roared making everybody including Morelli jump.

"Steph," he turned to her, his voice soft as he tenderly caressed her face. "I know we didn't even make it to the dinner table; but no food in the world is worth being insulted by her or anybody else. I suggest we drive home and on our way back we stop at the Seven-Eleven and I get us everything I need to bake you a pan of mean chocolate brownies. Is that OK for you?"

Steph nodded, silent tears drowning her face. Pressing his lips together in anger, Roque pulled her into his arms and soothingly rubbed her back.

"And as for you, Mrs. Plum," he turned toward Steph's mother. "I don't even know where to start. Your daughter is the most beautiful and amazing woman inside and out that I've ever met. She has no shortcomings at all and I love her more than my own life, exactly the way she is. Everything about her is loveable; her strengths as well as her weaknesses. I'm sorry you can't see that. Instead of supporting her, you are pressuring her to marry a man who fingered her at the age of six and who took her virginity in the most disgusting way at age sixteen and bragged about it all over town. I'm sure you love Stephanie in your own messed up way; but I will no longer watch you bashing and humiliating her. She is no disappointment; she's an amazing, strong, resilient woman. And she's the love of my life. If you want to talk to her in a respectful way, I'm sure you can leave a message for her at Rangeman LLC here in town; otherwise stop harassing her."

With that he turned and gently steered Steph outside onto the porch and down to their waiting SUV. They never even got to remove the hoodies they'd worn against the evening chill.


A/N: Here ya are girls ... a little bonding over Bourbon and the ultimate ugliness from Helen Plum. Thanks for reading and reviewing - love to hear from ya