Disclaimer: JE owns nearly all of these characters. I'm just having fun.

Remember latetolove's Merry Men bios? They inspired me to have some fun with Rodriguez. Have I mentioned that latetolove is the best beta ever? Any and all mistakes are mine.

This chapter is for Margaret Fowler. Margaret, this is what you asked me for … sort of. Hope you are pleasantly surprised.

Chapter TEN

Ranger's POV

Rodriguez stood stiffly in front of my desk, back to the door, facing my empty chair.

I circled around the desk.

"Rodriguez, what are you doing here?"

"Ranger," Rodriguez returned my greeting. "I'm here to offer my sincere apologies along with my resignation."

"And why would you do that?"

"I broke a rule, maybe the most important rule. I hurt Stephanie."

"Rodriguez, you don't have an office in this building, and as far as I know you've never even met Stephanie."

"Of course, I didn't mean to hurt her, but it was my fault nonetheless."

I looked at Rodriguez and sighed. I remember when I never sighed.

"Explain." My voice sounded weary, even to my own ears.

Rodriguez sounded tentative. "You know that Tank arranged for Stephanie to spend more time at RangeMan doing searches?"

I nodded so Rodriguez would continue.

"In order to have access to some of our more secure databases, Stephanie needed a security clearance. I was supposed to take care of the paperwork to make this happen." Rodriguez took a breath and paused a moment. "I needed an official copy of Stephanie's birth certificate, but we only had a copy in her personnel file. Stephanie had to sign a form so we could request a copy from the Vital Statistics office but …"

I gestured, perhaps a little impatiently, for Rodriguez to finish the sentence.

"They sent two birth certificates …"

"Two copies?" I clarified.

"No. Two birth certificates. An original and a second that was completed after the adoption."

"Stephanie's adopted? She never mentioned that."

"She couldn't have, because she didn't know," said Rodriguez sadly. The original birth record was sealed. There was a new clerk in Vital Statistics, and she apparently didn't understand the process because she sent both."

"Do you think she looked at them?"

" I know she looked at them. I pulled her search history for the last three weeks, and I found this." Rodriguez handed me several sheets of paper. "I am so sorry."

When I saw the tears start to fall, I didn't think. I just walked around my desk and pulled Rodriguez into my arms.

"Don't cry," I murmured as I stroked her long, dark hair. "It's not your fault."

For nearly a minute, we stood like that. Then I heard a voice. It arose from the general vicinity of the doorway, and it was filled with surprise … and hurt.

"Carlos," Stephanie said. "What is going on?"

I spun Rodriguez around. Keeping one arm firmly around her shoulders, I reached out my other arm, as if to pull Stephanie into our embrace. "Babe," I said. "I want you to meet my cousin, Selena Rodriguez."

"Rodriguez?" she exclaimed. The puzzled look on her face quickly resolved into understanding. "You're the Rodriguez?" Stephanie's face lit up with a brilliant smile. "I was beginning to think you weren't a real person!"

Selena smiled back, at least the right side of her face did. The left side didn't move much given the scars and the skin grafts that stretched from her forehead down onto her neck. The daughter of my mother's brother and his wife, Selena had grown up down the street from me in Newark. Despite the fact that she was five years younger, we had always been fast friends. I remember the day my aunt and uncle had brought baby Selena home from the hospital. My uncle had motioned for me to climb into the wingback chair near the fireplace in my grandparents' living room, and he had placed the pink bundle that was Selena into my arms. After a minute, the bundle had started to wail pitifully.

"Why is she sad, Tio?" I had asked my uncle.

"She is and will always be an only child," Tio Raoul had answered me solemnly. "It is lonely not to have brothers and sisters, and that makes her sad."

"I can be her big brother," I had promised my uncle. "I'll play with her, and I'll love her, and I'll always take care of her."

For the next 25 years, I tried to keep the promise I had made as a kindergartner.

I was in Pakistan when the accident happened, my last deployment as a Ranger. It was the summer Selena turned 20. She and her boyfriend had been headed to Point Pleasant for a picnic. They were hit head-on by a drunk driver, and for reasons that weren't entirely clear, the car had burst into flames. The boyfriend died at the scene. Selena had survived, but just barely. The crush injury to her right leg had been too severe to repair; the doctors had amputated below the knee. Her left arm and hand, as well as her face and chest, had been severely burned. She had spent three months in the burn unit and nearly six months in a rehab hospital. She regained a bit of mobility in her left arm, but the scars on her hand kept her fingers curled into a half-open fist. She had learned to walk again with the help of a prosthesis. Most importantly, she had learned to smile again.

In the midst of her recovery, I had returned home and started RangeMan. As soon as she was able, Selena came to work for me.

"I work offsite," Selena explained to Stephanie. "This is only the second time I've ever been in this building."

"But the IN boxes," Stephanie sputtered. "They're always full no matter how hard we work. How do you do that?"

"I send them over by courier. I can see nearly everyone's desk on the monitors and when someone is getting low, Harry from Accounting distributes files for me."

"I always knew Harry was a sneaky bastard," Steph said matter-of-factly, shooting a pointed glance in my direction. "But I still don't understand why you have your office in a different building."

Selena sighed. "Look at me. There is no way I could fit in here. Everyone who works here is beautiful and … perfect." Selena gave a little shrug and looked resigned. "I'm neither of those. Best that I stay of sight."

Stephanie gave Selena perplexed look. "You know me, right? Well, you don't exactly know me, but you probably know of me." Her eyes squeezed closed for a second and she looked for a minute like she was in pain. She seemed to collect herself, though, and she continued. "Historically, I've been a magnet for disaster. Until lately, my job entailed rolling in garbage almost daily. So many of my cars have blown up, I've lost count. Surely you heard about the Boxster and the garbage truck?"

Selena nodded shyly. The Boxster story was legendary at RangeMan. Unfortunately, it was also a favorite at Manoso family holiday gatherings. So, Carlos, whatever happed to the girl who destroyed the Boxster? Did you forgive her? Is that why you never bring her to dinner?

"So I guess I don't fit in here either. I'm far from perfect." Steph paused and looked at Selena thoughtfully. "Of course, I totally get what you mean about all of them being beautiful. I usually feel like the ugly step sister around here."

Selena started to protest, but Steph silenced her with a wave of her hand. "So given that, how do you think it made me feel when I came home and found my husband with a gorgeous woman in his arms? I thought I was going to spontaneously combust with jealously."

"Babe," I tried to interrupt her.

"No, seriously, Carlos. If Selena was anyone other than your cousin, I would have to shoot both of you."

Selena stared at Stephanie, open-mouthed. I totally understood her reaction. Sometimes Stephanie Plum Manoso was like a force of nature. You just had to batten down the hatches and wait for the hurricane to pass, hoping you were still standing at the end.

"Fortunately for all of us, I don't have to shoot you," said Stephanie with a grin. "Since you're a cousin to Carlos and Celia, I guess that makes you my cousin too now." Stephanie stepped toward us and pulled Selena into a tight hug. "Celia and I are going to New York day after tomorrow for lunch and shopping. Come with us, and we'll make it a Manoso girl family outing."

As Selena attempted to stammer a response, Stephanie released her and took a half a step back. Her eyes came to rest on the papers on the edge of my desk, the papers that Selena had given me.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't feel well. My headache is back—" Then she slumped to the floor before either Selena or I could catch her. One piece of paper fluttered to the floor, coming to rest beside her head.

Boulder, Colorado—Private funerals were held today for George Edward Foster and his estranged wife Rosemary Mazur Foster. In a presumptive murder-suicide, George Foster shot his wife in their home last Saturday and then shot himself. Mazur- Foster had sought emergency protection from her husband, alleging domestic abuse. Their two week-old daughter will be released to the custody of family members in Trenton, NJ.