JE was kind enough to create the characters below so that I could have fun playing with them.

Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your steady work as the beta on this story.

Dina (aydinbydin) I can't tell you how much more fun this story was to write because of your enthusiasm for every new idea.

Chapter 8 – Dancing Around Issues

Bobby's POV

"Dismissed," Ranger barked from the head of the conference table, ending the morning meeting. As the men began to file out, Ranger called, "Brown, Santos, you can stay behind."

We waited for the rest of the guys to leave and then turned to face our boss.

He stood up and walked to the door, shutting it slowly, but firmly and then turned back to face us. I couldn't read a damn thing on Ranger's face. He'd dropped his mask down, and until he spoke, we wouldn't have a clue what was on his mind.

He sat down, continuing to size us up in silence. I ran over the last couple of days and couldn't come up with anything out of the ordinary. We'd had lunch with Stephanie's parents yesterday and made plans to take her dancing with us tonight. There was a new club on the waterfront that was getting rave reviews. Les and I loved dancing, but neither of us were all that into the gay clubs in town. We figured if we took Steph with us, we could dance with her and the three of us could have a good time.

"You guys know I have no problem with what you have together, right?" he started with a question, so I was a little less concerned that he'd held us back to rip us a new lower body orifice.

"Sure, why?" Les spoke first, obviously as confused as I was about what was going on.

"I had dinner with Stephanie last night," he said, before putting his hand over his mouth and rubbing. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was nervous, but since this was Ranger, there was no way that was possible.

We waited, and he dropped his hand to continue. "She was going on and on about all the things you three have done together lately."

Oh shit, now I knew where this was going. While nobody had a clue what the real deal between Ranger and Stephanie was, there was still an unspoken rule in the building that said hands off the woman our boss called Babe.

"Look, I don't want to assume anything, but it sounded like she's been enjoying the time with you, and from what I've seen, you've been with her at some point nearly every day, which leads me to wonder…what in the hell is going on?" When he asked the last part, his mask fell slightly and his voice got louder, letting us know he wasn't pleased with the idea of us toying with her.

Les lifted a hand, basically letting Ranger know he'd said enough. "If anybody else asked, I'd tell them to mind their own damn business," he started in what was probably not the best way to calm Ranger down. "But since it's you and we know you've got some kind of history with her, I'll tell you this – that is one fine woman, inside and out, and we figured she needed somebody to be a real friend to her."

"So that's all that's going on?" Ranger asked, lifting an eyebrow in a way that made it clear he didn't believe it.

I caught Lester's eye when he glanced over at me.

Apparently, so did Ranger, because he leaned forward and said, "I agree that she is good woman, but for some reason I've never figured out, she doesn't believe that's true. I've spent a few years watching over her, and I consider it one of the best things I've done with my life. So if you two have some kind of game going on to screw with her, I'm telling you right now as your boss and your former commanding officer to stand the fuck down."

I couldn't listen to any more. I knew if he kept talking, Lester was going to get pissed, and then this could turn ugly, so I jumped in. "We aren't playing games with her, and we have no intention of screwing with her." I saw the movement of Lester's head. I knew the little play on words that had crossed his mind, but now wasn't the time to argue semantics.

"But we were getting damn tired of watching the game of hot potato that was her life, where her mother would demand one thing and push her away for not obeying, and then Joe would pretend to love her while only wanting part of her, pushing the rest away, and even you, who accepted her for who she was but didn't really want to let her totally in your life. You want to know why she doesn't realize all she has to offer? It's because of all the head games people have played with her in the name of love. We know you didn't mean to mess with her, but the way you'd say one thing while doing another is confusing as hell. We're just trying to show her that all men aren't bastards only after parts of her."

Ranger stared at me for a minute, as though weighing the truth of my words. "And how is the two of you playing with her any better? It's not like you're offering her a ring, house, and kids."

"Hell no," Lester interrupted. "We ain't offering that, but quite frankly, I don't think she wants it, either."

Ranger pointed out, "Even if she doesn't now, at some point, she's going to want all of it."

"And you know this how?" I wondered.

"She's unlike any woman I've ever met," Ranger explained, looking slightly above my head, not really at me, to respond. "But at the end of the day, she's a woman and she's from the 'Burg. She wouldn't have spent so many years dancing with Morelli if there wasn't a part of her that thought a husband and a house and kids was a good idea."

I looked down, not really wanting to disagree with Ranger, but at heart, I didn't agree with a single word he'd said.

"Can I ask you a question?" Les spoke quieter this time, truly asking for permission and not just barging forward.

He waited for Ranger to nod before asking, "Why didn't you ever try for something with her? I mean, everybody could see you guys had chemistry. Why not find out what she really wanted and give it a shot to see if it might work for both of you?"

I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to hear his answer, and part of me wanted to smack the shit out of my partner for even asking it. The last thing we wanted to do was give Ranger ideas about starting a relationship with Stephanie.

Ranger sat back, giving the impression he was considering Lester's question. "I can't do it. I can't take the chance of letting her in because I can't be what she needs."

"What does she need that you aren't capable of providing?" I pushed, mentally kicking my own ass for the question.

"Stability, honestly, openness, hell…you name it. I give her support, encouragement, and a little security, but that's all I can really offer. I've come close to chucking it all and just trying to be normal, but at the end of the day, my life isn't normal, so it's foolish to think I could offer her any of those things." He paused for a minute before adding, "I'd rather be the guy who she could say never let her down and not risk being the guy that broke her heart. At least the first way, I can be proud of it."

"You don't know that you'd break her heart," Les told him the same thing I'd been thinking.

"No, I don't, but I also don't know if the call I get for my next mission will be the one I don't come back from. I'm the only one here that still has an unconditional contract. I get paid to do the shit nobody else will do, and in taking the sums of money for it, I know there's always a greater than fifty percent chance that I may not come back." He winced before saying, "Somehow, I think making Stephanie an early widow would do more damage than just keeping her at arm's length has."

I looked at Les and knew he agreed with his cousin. If Ranger had tried to open himself to Stephanie and then been called away and killed, that mission would have taken two lives, not one. I didn't understand how he could be so close to what I considered Heaven and choose to not walk forward with her, but I found myself respecting his ability to hold back and being totally grateful for it, too.

Ranger straightened his shoulders once more and said, "But what I have or have not done isn't the point here. The reason we're talking is because I need to know what you two are doing."

Les relaxed his posture, showing he wasn't upset about the questioning. "Like Bobby said, we ain't playing games. And as far as we know, she just considers us her friends."

"Is that what you are?" Ranger followed up.

"Definitely," I spoke up this time.

"Is that all you are?" Ranger pushed, knowing we were evading.

Les shrugged. "As long as that's what she wants, that's all we are."

Ranger stood up quickly and bent over the table, taking his time to look us in the eye before his gaze landed on Lester and he said, "I've watched you use a lot of people over the years, cuz, and I'm watching you. The mats will be the least of your worries if I think you're treating Stephanie like one of those pieces of trash you've used in the past." Then he turned to look at me. "And you've never shown much interest in anyone other this joker. So if this is some kind of testing the waters or science experiment, I'll mess you up in ways the training the Army gave you won't begin to fix. Have I made myself clear?"

"Are you threatening us?" Lester challenged.

Ranger slowly pulled himself up to his full height and shook his head. "I don't threaten. I'm just explaining the rules."

"I thought you said this wasn't a game?" I blurted out.

"You see to that it's not, and you don't have to worry about anything else," he replied coolly.

Ranger was only a step from the door when Lester opened his mouth again. "And what if we aren't playing and the three of us decide there's more going on here than friendship?"

His torso stayed in place, but Ranger turned his head back to speak over his shoulder. "If you treat her right and she's happy, then I'll be right there to support you all. I may not have always done the right thing as far as she's concerned, but at the end of the day, I just want to see her happy, and I know that despite what she might have thought, I can't do that for her. If you can, then I'd love to see her finally getting what she deserves."

He didn't pause before opening the door and walking out, leaving us there wondering what in the hell just happened.

"Are we in trouble, or did we just get some sort of blessing?" Lester asked.

"I don't think either. I think it's more that we're on notice, and depending on what happens and how we treat Stephanie, one or the other will be true," I replied, hoping that was right.

"There's no reason we should not go out tonight, though, right?" Les asked, not sounding sure.

I thought about it and finally decided, I didn't give a shit. Stephanie wanted to go dancing with us, and that was all that mattered. "I've got three physicals to do, a skip to try rounding up with Brett, and then I'm getting ready to head over to Stephanie's apartment for dinner before the club." I stood up to make my point. "We aren't playing games, we aren't going to hurt her, and we aren't going to pressure her into something she isn't comfortable with."

Les grinned, and I knew he was in. "Then I'll pull your leather pants out of the back of the storage closet, because you haven't worn them in the longest time, and they make your ass look incredibly hot."

The afternoon passed textbook easy, and before I knew it, Les and I were knocking on Stephanie's door with dinner in hand, waiting on her to let us in. There was no immediate response, which seemed strange, so I knocked again. When I looked over to Lester, I couldn't help but notice his expression shifted to one of worry. It never took her this long to answer the door, especially when she knew to expect us. Her car was next to the dumpster in the parking lot, so she was definitely there.

I reached to my back, lifted the shirt tail I hadn't tucked in, and pulled the Sig from the waist at the back of my pants, waiting for Les to pick the pitiful excuse for a lock at her door. I called her name before we walked in and heard, "Arrghh!" as a response.

Lester's gun was drawn before I could even focus on the movement, and we moved toward her bedroom, clearing her apartment as we went, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

It wasn't until we turned at the end of her hall, ready to enter her bedroom that she said, "I have absolutely nothing to wear!"

We looked at each other and shook our heads. There wasn't a threat to be eliminated, but there definitely was something we could do to be helpful.

Les put his Beretta away and walked in with his playboy swagger, announcing, "Well, from where I'm standing, what you're wearing right now is perfect."

Stephanie spun around with a death grip on her towel, barely covering everything I so desperately wanted to see, and screamed from the shock of us appearing in her bedroom. "Geez, is it a rule that you guys have to enter a room on stealth mode?"

I walked over to her and rubbed my hands up and down her upper arms a few times to provide some warming friction, before leaning down and kissing her forehead. "Sorry to have scared you. We knocked, and when you didn't answer, we let ourselves in. Then we heard your growl and assumed something was wrong."

She shook her head, willing to absolve us just that easily. "I was frustrated and had my head buried in my closet trying to find something different, but everything I pulled out was either something I've worn too many times before or something I would wear on a distraction."

Les plopped down on her bed with a bounce and then smacked the mattress beside himself a few times. "Have a seat, man."

"What?" Steph and I asked at the same time.

"Come on." He patted the bed again. "You and I are going to help pick out her club wear."

I slowly made my way over to the spot he was saving for me, and once I'd sat, he looked at her and said, "All right, Beautiful, bring it on. Pull it out and show us what you've got."

She seemed hesitant, so I said, "Why don't we grab the food we brought for dinner while you put on something on other than your towel, and we can start then?"

She seemed to relax, so we stepped out and picked up the bags we'd dropped on the way in, a few bottles of water from her fridge, and some paper towels to keep from making a mess of her bed. When she called our names, we dutifully reentered her room and took our places on her bed. She was standing in front of us with two hangers in her hand – one holding a dress over her torso and the other waiting to take its place. Her towel was on a heap on the floor, which made me wonder what she was wearing behind that dress on a hanger.

Les made a motion for her to switch them out, and then my eyes beheld something that nearly caused me to choke. In the brief moment between outfits, I saw her creamy skin covered only in a midnight blue bra and panty set. The panties didn't see to cover much, and since all I saw was milky white, I assumed she had been doing some serious grooming during her shower.

"Well?" she asked, waiting for one of us to speak.

I was afraid to open my mouth for fear what I was really thinking would come out, but Lester didn't seem to have the same issue I did. "Neither. What else do you have?"

She seemed to agree with him and then spun around to face her closet and search out something else. I blinked to be sure I saw seeing right, as just the thinnest strip of blue was visible between her perfectly round ass checks. I forced myself to look away, intending to ask Les how he was able to stand it, but the look on his face told me he was egging her on intentionally just so he could enjoy the view a little longer.

His eyes cut to me only briefly for a quick wink, and then he focused back on Stephanie, who was turning around with two more options. It took half an hour before we'd narrowed it down to two dresses. She finally picked one and left us still sprawled out on her bed to finish getting ready in the bathroom.

I looked at Les and see the evidence framed in denim of what the fashion show had done to him.

He smiled and looked at me, before glancing at the bulge in my leather pants and saying, "It will be a miracle if we can get through dancing without one of us ruining our damn pants like a freaking middle schooler."

Stephanie came back around the corner in a dress that seemed to match the undergarments that were now permanently burned into my memory and did a little spin to show how the slight modifications in her diet had taken what was already a smoking body and turned it into something drop dead gorgeous.

"You guys ready to roll?" she asked, obviously energized by the reaction we gave to her appearance.

I handed her a bottle of water, which she'd barely touched as we ate, and told her, "Drink. If you have any booze, it will keep it from getting to you as quickly."

She dutifully tipped the bottle, but when she lowered it, she corrected me. "I'll drink it, but we both know more than a single shot and I'm as good as down for the count, no matter what I do beforehand."

Les promised her, "Don't you worry, Beautiful. We're not letting you out of our sight tonight, so no matter what, we'll keep you safe."

She grinned at him, looking younger and lighter than I'd seen in a long time. Then she touched us both and said, "I know. Now, I just want to go dance and have fun with my boys."

She spun around and left us standing there with our jaws practically open. "Her boys?" I repeated as a question, not sure I'd heard her right.

Les cleared his throat before responding. "Yeah, normally I'd take issue with anybody calling me a boy, but damn if when she said it, my dick didn't stand up taller, like it was ready to be recognized as present and accounted for when she called."

I put my hand at the back of his neck in a gesture we'd done to each other thousands of times and shook him softly from side to side. "Let's go out with our girl."

When we walked into Pulses, it was crowded, but not so jammed you couldn't find room on the dance floor or a table at the fringe if you needed one. We went straight to the tables just as the music slowed and the lights dimmed.

"I'm going to get us all something to drink," I volunteered.

I made my way to the bar and got us each something non-alcoholic and then made my way to a tall table close enough to the dance floor that I could watch. Lester had taken the hint and used my absence as an opportunity to get her dancing right away. She had one hand on his shoulder, leading slightly to his back, and the other was high on his chest. I'd watched Lester dance with hundreds of women, but I'd never seen him hold one the way he was her. He had her as close as he could without risking offending her, but his arms weren't groping, they were just holding – treasuring – what was in them. She seemed to light up the whole joint despite the low house lights, and I found that watching them made me happy.

The DJ followed up one slow song with another, and I didn't hesitate to join them, tapping Steph on the shoulder and cutting in. Les didn't seem to mind, going back to the spot I'd occupied and keeping his eyes glued on us, as though we were the best thing he'd ever seen.

I'd been worried about how she would react to us holding her on the dance floor, but once again, that proved to be totally unfounded. She molded herself to me and easily followed my lead, seeming perfectly content and comfortable to be so close to me. I didn't want the song to end, even though I knew we'd be here for hours. I spun her away, just to have the chance to draw her back to again. She smiled, and then once she turned back to face me, she let out the most delicious sigh of peace as she put her head on my shoulder. I instantly regretted wearing leather tonight. For one thing, it was hot, but for another, it wasn't all that forgiving, and the way my crotch was filling out, Les was right, it would be miracle if I could dance with her much before having to excuse myself to the men's room to keep from putting a stain at the zipper I had no intention of explaining to a dry cleaner.

For the next two hours, we took turns dancing with her or sitting together and talking at the table. A few guys tried to approach us to ask her for a dance, but we effectively ran them off without having to say a word. When the last kid ran off, Stephanie laughed and said, "You know...I'm perfectly capable of telling them no myself."

I was about to apologize, but Les jumped in first and said, "We know that, but just for tonight, we wanted to pretend you were all ours."

She laughed as though he were joking and then teased back, "Just tonight?"

Before either of us could answer, the music changed again and her eyes lit up. "I love this song!" She jumped off her stool, grabbed both our hands, and led us willingly to the dance floor.

So far we had only danced with her individually, but without even thinking about it, I spun her to me and put a leg between her thighs. She proved herself to be a fantastic dancer by mirroring the movements of my hips. Then Les came up behind her, resting his hands on her hips and sandwiching her between us. She used both hands to lift her hair from her neck at the back and shut her eyes, and just in that brief moment, I could so easily picture this working. I could see us in bed with her, watching movies, going out – everything. I could see us happy with her in the middle of our lives. And the expression on her face at the moment truly made me think she was enjoying herself as well, so I began to hope that she might soon be open to thinking along the same lines we were.

The song ended, blending into something of similar speed, and Les spun her around so that she was facing him. I easily took his place at her back, and she didn't seem to mind having us both pressing ourselves against her. There was no way to hide the effect it was having on us, and knowing she wasn't a fool, I knew she had to feel the evidence pressing against her, but continued to move her hips, letting the movement from Lester guide us all.

Half an hour later, she moved so that she was standing and not really dancing anymore. We both moved away immediately, not wanting to push her.

"I think I'm too tired to dance anymore," she announced, not looking overly happy about it.

Les touched her nose with his index finger and assured her, "We'll come back again."

"All of us?" she asked, looking at me for confirmation.

"Absolutely," I promised, feeling my heart rate increase from the hope that she wanted the three of us to be together just like we did.

We made our way off the dance floor, and just before we cleared the bodies, someone reached out and grabbed Stephanie's arm.

"Stephanie Plum?" the less than impressive man asked.

Les put his hand on her back, not trying to move her away from the punk interrupting our night, but letting her know we were behind her and all she had to do was say the word and we'd take care of this jerk.

She tilted her head like she was trying to place the guy talking to her.

He finally had to help her, telling her his name was Michael and they'd gone to high school together. "I'm just back visiting my folks and decided to get out for the night."

She made small talk for a few minutes, and I found myself looking over the crowd, falling into the old habit of cataloguing potential threats and looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Their conversation seemed to be winding down, before Michael said, "I almost didn't recognize you. I mean, you look the same, but the way you were dancing"—he lowered his voice and leaned in—"with two men..." He stood back up and continued, "I couldn't believe anyone from our old neighborhood would do something so unseemly. I just had to call out to you to see if my eyes were deceiving me."

Her expression shifted, and she looked hurt. "Well, it's me all right," she told him. "Now you know."

"Does your mother know you do this kind of thing, with people like…" He left the sentence unfinished, which is the only reason I didn't put my hand around his neck. I hated the turn this conversation was taking, but at the same time, I didn't want to jump in if she wanted to handle this herself.

When he asked about her mother, I could almost see her shrinking. Her shoulders dropped their confidence from earlier, and her eyes went down to the floor. But the moment he began a sentence that seemed as though he wanted to insult us, her head snapped up and her eyes, which had looked hurt, were now practically glowing. I glanced at Lester and could tell he'd seen it, too.

"Michael Arnold, don't you dare finish that sentence." Her finger went out like a mother scolding a small child. "You can gab all you want to about me, but don't even think about insulting my friends like that."

He chuckled at her, and I briefly wondered what kind of man laughed like that. "I didn't mean to upset you, but you have to admit, they aren't exactly the kind of people you take home for your mother's roast, now are they?"

"Actually," she retorted, taking a step closer, making me wonder if we might have to peel her hands off his throat based on the head of steam she was currently building, "they have been to my parents' house for roast. Bobby's been invited to cook with her anytime he wants, and Les and my dad sat through a couple of games. So whatever you're thinking, just stop. They're good, decent men, who I love being around. Don't you dare insult them based on what you think you know just from a glance on a dance floor."

"But they aren't from the 'Burg," he said, clearly confused and too stupid to pick up on her clues that this conversation was about to end one way or the other.

"Thank God, because if the 'Burg only has narrow minded bigots like you, I want to stay as far away from it as possible." She then stepped back, told him goodnight, and took our hands in hers to led us to the door.

We stopped beside the SUV, and I could tell the rush of her confrontation was getting to her. It wasn't cool tonight, but she'd crossed her arms tightly, as though she was freezing. I took off my button up shirt that had been hanging open and loose on me all night so I could put it around her shoulders. It wasn't a coat, but I knew it was warm from being on me while we danced.

Stephanie shut her eyes and took a deep breath. I waited to see if that was enough to make her comfortable and was rewarded when her eyes opened and landed on me standing there in my black leather pants and my white, wife beater tank top. When she spoke, I had a feeling her mouth got moving before her brain could stop it.

"Good Lord, Bobby, you're gorgeous."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

Les put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention and pouted. "I'm hurt, Beautiful."

She turned a spectacular shade of rose on her cheeks, obviously embarrassed by her outburst. "Les…no, I didn't mean…well, you are, too, but…I…shit."

Les took pity on her and pulled her in for a hug to stop her rambling. "Relax, Steph. I happen to agree with you. He is one fine looking man."

She hid her face, only for a moment, before looking up at him and nodding her agreement.

Driving to her apartment, I tried to keep from smiling like a fool, but I couldn't help myself. She had definitely checked me out and had liked what she saw. We'd had a great time out dancing, and then she'd stood up to someone from the 'Burg for attempting to insult us. From where I was sitting, life was good and definitely worth smiling about.