Here it is. The chapter you've been waiting for! Ranger's onesie!

10 – Ranger

I ended up sleeping in the spare apartment on the fourth floor after the computer fiasco. Going home just didn't seem worth it, since it was already after one in the morning by the time I was confident we'd retrieved all the data that was lost. My cats would have enough kitty kibble to last them at least until after the client meeting, then I could duck home and make sure they were all fed. For now, though, I had more immediate problems.

When meeting with clients, Ranger preferred we dressed in traditional business attire. I had a client meeting in fifteen minutes, which wasn't enough time to duck home for a suit. None of the guys were anywhere near my size, so I couldn't just borrow, and there was no way I was meeting such an uptight client in my street clothes.

I stared for an agonisingly long moment at the cargoes and tee I'd worn the previous day and was just about to bite the bullet and get it over with when I remembered Ella. I shoved my various limbs into the clothes with little care, leaving my utility belt on the bedside table and took the stairs up two floors to Ella's domain.

She was just disappearing into the laundry room adjacent to her apartment with an empty basket when I pushed through the stairwell door. I followed, catching up to her as she was opening one of the many front loader washing machines that lined the wall.

"Tank," she greeted, looking up as she began pulling items from within the machine. "It's not often I see your face around here. How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you had any spare business clothes for me," I said, staring at what she was doing. All the clothes she was pulling out were black. But they came out in dribs and drabs, plopping easily into the basket below the opening. But then she started dragging out a cloth with a different texture. And it just kept coming. Then I saw the unmistakable yellow emblem and I knew immediately what I was looking at. Just to be sure, though, I had to ask. "What's that?"

Ella looked up as the loose end fell from the machine opening into the basket, still holding the other. "Oh this?" she asked, looking down at it. "It's the Batman Kigurumi Stephanie got for Ranger. She got one for all the men for Christmas."

I clenched my jaw to tamp down the urge to growl. This wasn't Ella's fault. She wasn't to know how wrong her statement was. How it cut me straight to the core. This was Stephanie's doing. Ella was innocent here. I had to remember that.

"I thought it was a great idea when she came to me asking for all the men's sizes," she continued. "I honestly didn't think half of them would wear them, but I've washed each of them at least once. Even Rangers. That was a surprise."

Glancing at my watch, I noted that I had less than ten minutes before Mr. Demanding would be here. I couldn't stand here listening to Ella gush over how Steph had enabled the men's current immaturity streak. I had things to do. "The suit?" I prompted. "Do you have something for me?"

"Oh, right," Ella said, nodding and dropping the blasted onesie into basket. "I think I have a couple of shirts and pants for you put away," she confirmed, leaving the clothes where they were and leading the way toward the other end of the laundry room. I'd never been this far into her lair. It was unnecessary. Whenever I needed replacement uniforms they just appeared in my office. I had no idea how she always knew, since I was one of the few men that did my own washing – a necessity that came with living offsite – but they were always there when I needed. The backroom of the laundry was like a really swish locker room. Wardrobes stood in four long lines, creating two corridors between them. Each wardrobe was labelled with the name of a Rangeman employee.

She moved to the first row and started down, stopping at the third wardrobe – the one with my name on the front - and pulling it open. Inside was a series of shelves stacked with black cargoes and shirts, drawers that probably contained socks and boxers and beside it all a hanging section. Even from the first glance, I could tell that they were my size. "I try to keep spares on hand in case there's an emergency," she explained, extracting two coat hangers and holding them out to me before flipping out the bottom section of the wardrobe to reveal a row of shoes. Boots, sneakers, dress shoes, even a pair of flip flops. All black. "Do you need a jacket?" she asked, handing me the shiniest pair of shoes I'd ever seen in my size. "It's cold out."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving the building," I assured her. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," she assured me. "If you like there's a change room just at the end of the aisle," she informed me, pointing further down the line of the closets. "Just leave your clothes there and I'll have the washed for you."

I nodded, striding away from her. Normally I would have said something like, "You're the best," because she really was, but with the new information I had about her involvement in the onesie shenanigans, I couldn't make the words come out of my mouth, so I just walked away. I didn't have time to concern myself with her actions right now.

Have I mentioned that this is pretty much the only story where I've known exactly what would happen in the entire thing straight from the get go? Like, oh my gosh, my muse did with the details on this one.