Author's note: Eep. Over 220 reviews. That's so awesome

I closed the door to my room and took stock of what I needed to do for dinner. No, not for whatever the hell I was cooking (I still hadn't decided yet), but to get ready. I might have overestimated my skills in the kitchen, but if working with these guys had taught me anything it was that a carefully executed distraction could solve almost any problem.

I jumped in the shower and loofahed, exfoliated, shampooed and conditioned in record time. I couldn't even remember what was in the pantry so I knew I would need some time to invent something for dinner. There would be peanut butter in there right? Drying off, I set to work on my hair and makeup. Three coats of mascara should do, as well as light smoky eyes. I wanted my make-up to say "I did this in five minutes". Of course that fresh-faced look actually takes five times that long to achieve, but what can you do? Even with my Jersey girl skills it was an intensive art form. Since I'd gone understated on my eyes, well Jersey understated, I could afford to be bold with my lips. I grabbed my brightest red lipstick. If my eyes where quietly tempting, my lips screamed fuck me. Not that I thought My Guys needed much of an invitation...

I tamed my curls using Mr Alexander's serum and after using the hairdryer and some creative swearing, they finally became sleek and bouncy. Dabbing some of my perfume on my neck and wrists, I re-entered my bedroom. I already knew what I was going to wear. I hooked myself into my black Victoria's secret corset. It squeezed my stomach in a bit and somehow shifted it to give me the most awesome cleavage. I teamed that with a pair of black French knickers and my five inch FMPS. Of course the shoes were black with red highlights. I knew I would have to cook barefoot and put them on to serve dinner – I wanted to be sexy, and that was hard to pull off when you kept complaining about your feet.

Putting my dressing gown on over my ensemble in case anyone was watching, I snuck down to the kitchen. The shoes went under the breakfast bar until later. I started to search through the fridge and the cupboards. Lasagne sheets! I could work with this.

The lean mince went in the pan with a little garlic and oil. Once it had browned off I added some chopped onions then the tinned tomatoes, zucchini, oregano and basil. Lasagne was one of the few things I had learnt from my mother, and that was only because it didn't matter if it was messy. If I was going to cook, it wasn't going to be julienne this and puree that. The pre-bought pasta sheets went into a pot to soften as I sent a silent thank you to whoever purchased them and whoever invented them. (Pasta maker? Hand cut? Who was I, Martha Stewart?). I found a giant ceramic dish and preheated the oven. Now all I needed was cheese. And some sort of salad. I was making enough to feed eight which should be enough for My Men since I had seen Tank eat, but I knew Ranger wouldn't be pleased with too many carbs or too much dairy. The cheese problem was easy enough to solve since my only option was in the dairy chiller. It was a good thing it was low fat. Scratch that, it was there since Ranger would only eat low fat, so therefore the cheese was fine. And if it wasn't, it was his fault. This could work.

With the lasagne in the oven, I turned my mind to the salad. The crisper was packed full of all sorts of green things, a few of which I could only guess at. Apart from cooking for one being a major drag, fresh stuff seemed to go off really quickly. I settled on iceberg lettuce, mushrooms and cherry tomatoes since I only had to worry about how the mushrooms looked. I checked the clock. Ten minutes to go and I was done. Sure the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it since there were pans and cutting boards and just mess on every surface, but dinner was done, and nothing had burned down! I set the table, opened the wine to breathe and took the lasagne out of the oven.

With the salad on the table, I slipped on my heels and brought the lasagne out. If it did taste bad, I was hoping they wouldn't notice. Of course being military men they all knew the meaning of the word punctual. I walked out to a chorus of exclamations.

"Babe!"

"Damn, Baby!"

"Can I eat you instead, Beautiful?"

Everyone looked at Bobby who was silent. He waited until I put the dish on the table and snagged me around the waist.

"What? Ok, fine. I apologise that my love for this amazing woman can't be boiled down to a catchphrase. Happy?"

My Guys chuckled and I lit up with a mega-watt smile. It was partly because he said love, and partly because I realised I'd began to think of them as 'My Guys' and knew that I was allowed to call them that.

Dinner was a resounding success. They devoured the lot, though I didn't know if that was because of how it tasted or their desires to leave the table and get to 'dessert'.

"Both," mumbled Lester with his mouth full.

Tank lightly smacked him upside the head. "Manners. There's a lady present."

I didn't get to hear Lester's retort. At that moment we heard machinery outside, and electric light came in through some of the lower external windows.

Ranger recovered first. "Who the fuck is that? The crews aren't meant to be here for days." He stripped off his t-shirt to throw it to me, but Tank handed me his first. I thought that was a better option, since it was like wearing a dress. With that sorted, he ran to the office, while Bobby went to the kitchen. Between the two of them they distributed six handguns and four knives, one of which I was sure I'd used that evening to chop onions. There was a banging on the front door. It was further around the living room from the garage door, but I'd never had a reason to go through it. Lester motioned for me to stay in the dining room while they went to check it out. I gave him my best pissy look and followed, despite being unarmed. Ranger checked the peephole, and waved us down. The knives and guns quickly disappeared.

He opened the door to a local cop, a crew of guys, 2 snow plows and a cleared path and driveway.

"Boy, am I glad to see you guys!"

This was of course met with a large degree of confusion. Ranger invited him in as he tried to recover.

"We thought we were a bit further down your list, Officer."

"Well, that was the original plan, but our lines kept being flooded by a," he paused to check his notepad, "Mrs Plum. Her incessant phone calls were distressing our operators. She kept saying that her daughter was in trouble and there was no way John, no wait, Joe, would ever marry her after she spent the week with a bunch of thugs and criminals."

He looked around in confusion, clearly looking for a distressed female and finding only me. Even with Tank's shirt on, or perhaps because of it, I looked incredibly satisfied and in no way scared.

I looked at his hand and saw a bare ring finger. Then I checked the nametag on his rescue suit. Officer Costa. "Officer, do you by any chance have a rather "involved" mother? Someone who evaluates your choices and relationships with great interest." I held up my left hand, palm towards me.

It clicked immediately. "I do indeed, Miss Plum. I am so sorry. How many days since you returned her calls?"

I groaned. "I guess three. My phone was involved in a small fire and my sister lent me her old one. I must have forgotten to give her my new number."

Officer Rossi nodded as he smiled ruefully, obviously impressed that after that length of time my mother hadn't tried to dig me out herself. Finally he turned to leave, "Well now that you guys are sorted, if no one's injured we'll be on to the next house."

I stopped him, "Wait, how did my mother know the right address?"

"Ah, after we told her we obviously couldn't dig you out without one, she called a company called Rangeman." He looked at his notepad again. "I have the contact's name here, a Mr Hal Leonard. Well if that's all..."

As Ranger showed Rossi out, Tank burst out with "Siberia."

"No way, Hal likes the cold."

"We can't let anyone know that we're upset," Bobby pointed out.

Ranger had re-entered the room and caught on to their conversation. "The Atacama Desert. If anyone asks it's for Spanish language immersion training," he ground out.

My arguments that Hal shouldn't be sent to the end of the world and that lesser men had failed to withstand the full-on assault that was the Ellen Plum nag, died in my throat. Tomorrow we would be back in Trenton and back to reality. I would see My Guys constantly but have to refrain from kissing them and touching them, just as they would have to stop themselves from touching me.

Lester spotted my expression first. "Hey, it's alright, Beautiful. Hal'll be fine. In fact it's for his own good, since it gets him away from the four of us and at the moment I'd like to..."

"It's not that. It's just that I don't know how I'm going to leave tomorrow and pretend nothing's changed."

Tank leaned down and kissed me deeply before picking me up and cradling me in his arms. He carried me to his bedroom, with the others trailing. Once there he kissed me softly and removed my clothes before laying me on his bed. I didn't know why we hadn't spent the entire time in his room. His bed was larger than the others and with some shuffling, we could spend the night here together. Over the next few hours they each made love to me. There was no other word for it. They poured all their emotions into our time together and I clung to them like I was drowning. During the night I noticed the mirror on the dresser and how at the right angle I could see our bodies moving together, chocolate, mocha, caramel and milky white. I thought it was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen, but part of me was sad because I knew that there were others who wouldn't see it the same way.

A/N: Would Ranger ever eat lasagne? If he ever wants sex again, then yes, he'll eat it and he'll damn well like it lol.

Speaking of sex, I've got a future scene in mind and I can't decide who should star – Ranger or Tank? I used to be a total Babe but these days, I'm such a Tart that I can't decide. Please vote and help me decide.

(And yeh, so the police probably wouldn't be in charge of the rescues and they probably would have waited until daylight, but in the scheme of things, what's one more suspension of disbelief?)

And sorry that this chapter is considerably shorter than the rest. I wasn't planning on writing this now, but I had some time and it feels organic to stop here. I've got the general gist of the next chapter raring to go and I'm still planning to write on Sunday afternoon my time.

Let me know what you thought.