PAY ATTENTION for a minute, here. This next section includes graphic violence and OOC behavior from Stephanie. If you're squeamish, skip it. If you can't stand to see Steph behave in an OOC manner, skip it. You aren't sure how you feel about those things… SKIP IT. J

The next morning…

The kids don't know that we picked up Martinez yesterday. We called ahead to make sure they wouldn't see him brought in. After all, asshole or not, he is their father.

We'll deal with him today. I have already decided to let Steph make all the decisions about how to handle him. When I spoke to Hector, he agreed with me. So did the rest of the Springfield crew. I would have preferred to let Hector have him, but he's still not up to a confrontation like this.

Juan offered to loan Steph his knives. If I tell her that, I'm not so sure she won't take him up on that offer. And honestly, I'd rather she not have that on her conscience.

Martinez has multiple wants and warrants across the Northeast. There will be no problem keeping him in custody once he's handed over to the police.

If he's handed over to the police.

Right now, she's still sleeping. It's not quite seven yet. I would have liked to let her sleep through this day, but she'd never forgive me. That thought was one of the reasons why I'd made the decision to allow her to have control over Martinez's fate.

Last night, I spoke to Albert about getting the children's birth certificates, medical records, school record, and social security numbers. This morning, I learned he'd spent the night getting all of their paperwork together. It's amazing what a few bribes can accomplish.

Their papers will be on my desk no later than noon. Shortly thereafter, I hope to have legal papers saying that they are now ours.

With a sigh, I swallow the last of the coffee in my cup and go to wake my wife. I'd rather get this over with and not have it hanging over our heads any longer than necessary.

At the bedroom door, I pause, watching her sleep. I never liked sharing a bed with a woman beyond sex. Not even Rachel. I couldn't sleep like that. Steph changed that for me though. After that one night I spent in her bed - the night she kicked her couch out for having death cooties - I found I had trouble sleeping without her. Until that night, I had never willingly slept with a woman. In fact, aside from Rachel, I never had simply slept with anyone other than Steph.

I love the way she wraps herself around me when she sleeps. I love the way she holds on to me. I love being able to feel her with me when I wake in the night. What I once found an annoyance I now find… comforting.

I walk over to the bed and lean down to kiss her. With a soft moan, she wraps her arms around me. I let her drag me down onto the bed. I'd like to stay here all day.

We can't though.

I stifle a sigh and kiss her softly. "Time to get moving, Babe."

"Innaminna." She pulls the comforter up over her head. I chuckle quietly.

"Not in a minute. Now." Her hand appears near her pillow and she flips me the bird. I can't help but laugh. "Babe."

"Ugh." She flips the covers back and rolls to the edge of the bed. "Fine," she grouses. "I'm up. See? I hope you're happy." Her feet finally hit the floor and she staggers off to the bathroom, grumping at me the whole time.

Thirty minutes later, she emerges. She's wearing a RangeMan uniform. Her hair is up in a pony tail. She's kept the makeup to a bare minimum. She stops by the closet for her heaviest boots. Steel toes. Steel shanks. Heavy rubber soles an inch thick. She pulls them up over her calves and zips them up, the hem of each leg tucked into its boot. When she stands up, I head out to get her a bagel and some coffee. By the time she hits the kitchen, I have her breakfast ready.

She eats in silence and drinks three cups of coffee. She hits the bathroom and brushes her teeth. She enters the dressing room and emerges with her utility belt. I retrieve her weapons from the safe. I already have mine. She buckles her belt and loads it up. When she's done, she looks up at me and smiles. "Let's go."

I take her hand in mine and we head to the second floor. Before the elevator doors open, I pull her into my arms and kiss her deeply. "Babe." Her eyes are dazed when they meet mine. "You have control here, Babe. We do whatever you feel is appropriate. What we do with Martinez is your call. Do you understand?"

She nods and swallows hard. "I need to do the right thing."

I return her nod. "Yes. And I will back you on whatever you think is right. So will the rest of the guys."

"What about Hector?"

"He agreed to turn control of this situation over to you." No need to tell her that if he was able, he'd want to take care of the matter. With pleasure. Or that I'd really prefer to hand Martinez over to someone else.

"Okay." She blows out a sigh as I press the button and allow the doors to open. "Let's do this."

I follow her out the door and toward the interrogation room where Martinez is waiting for us under heavy guard. Tank is in the hall just outside the elevator doors. Bobby is inside the interrogation room with Martinez. Lester is waiting outside the door. "Good morning," he greets us with a smile.

"Any problems?" I ask him.

"Not a one. Of course, we had to carry him in." His smile is cold. I'm sure that Martinez is feeling more pain this morning than he was yesterday afternoon for a variety of reasons. He looks at Steph. "You ready, Sweetheart?"

Her eyes meet his. She nods. "I'm ready."

"You want to trade places at any time, just say the word." I can tell he's hoping she'll let him have at this guy. Personally, I am, too.

"Thanks, Les."

He unlocks the door. He pushes it open and we walk in.

Bobby nods to both of us. I nod back. Steph smiles and motions for him to stay when he moves to join Lester in the hall.

Diego Martinez is looking a little worse for the wear. He's sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His hands are cuffed behind his back. His pant leg is stiff with dried blood where Steph shot him. I can also see that it's wet just above his knee. Either he's still bleeding or he's bleeding again. I'm betting on the latter. His eyes are closed, his head tilted back slightly. If he were a skip, Steph would probably take him to the hospital before delivering him to lockup.

The look on her face says that Martinez is going to neither of those places.

She moves to stand over him. She wears an expression of complete disgust as she looks down at him. The sense of fairness that wouldn't permit her to strike Anton Ward is what allows him some semblance of freedom. "Uncuff him, Ranger."

I push myself off the wall I've been leaning on since we entered the room. I crouch next to Martinez and turn him to unlock the cuffs. He doesn't respond. I pocket the cuffs and step back.

"Mr. Martinez. You are going to make some decisions here today. Make good ones and you live to be turned over to the authorities. Make bad ones and I start removing body parts." Her voice is steely and harsh. There is no doubt in my mind that she means precisely what she says.

Martinez doesn't respond to her. I look closely to make sure he's breathing.

Steph waits for a moment, watching him. When he refuses to respond to her toe in his ribs (beyond an involuntary grunt), she looks over to Bobby and me. "Get him in the chair."

We snap shit to obey her order. A moment after she issued it, her order has been executed. Martinez is sitting upright in the chair. I know he's awake and alert despite his 'possum impression.

Steph watches him, her eyes narrowing. I've seen that look before. This guy is fucked. Storm Stephanie is about to cause a flash flood.

She moves to stand in front of the chair. Bobby and I move to stand behind him, just in case. "You could have made this easy."

Her hand shoots out, slapping him in the face, splitting his lip against his teeth. Bobby audibly gasps. I allow my eyes to widen in surprise. Steph is simply not a violent person. Had he only shot her, this wouldn't be happening. He'd crossed the line by shooting her partner and hurting his children, though.. The unheard of violence is a testament to how angry she is on their behalf.

When he spits blood at her, she pins him to the chair by his throat. "I do believe I offered you choices. You can make the right ones or the wrong ones. The right ones will save your life. The wrong ones get you a slow and painful death. Your call."

It's becoming an effort to hide my shock. Steph kicks ass, no doubt about it. But this… This is something I would do. It's completely out of character for the strong and fair woman I married. I almost pity Martinez.

When he fails to answer, her knee finds his balls. Again. And again. His face is purple. His eyes are watering. He's gasping for breath. "I'm waiting. Not patiently."

"Fuck you!"

Her hands reach for his throat and squeeze. "Wrong answer. Care to try again?"

This time, he spits in her face. Her forehead connects with his nose. He screams. Blood runs freely from his nose, mixing on his chin with the blood from his lip.

Steph steps back. She smiles. It's not pleasant. "Just remember, you chose." Her fist connects with his temple. Martinez falls out of the chair and crumples to the floor. She looks at Bobby and me. "Oops. He fell down." Her voice is cold and eerily calm.

Bobby clears his throat. "Want us to pick him up for you, Baby?" His voice is calm. Almost soothing.

She nods. "Please. We'll be taking him to Hector now." Hector and Juan have been staying on the fourth floor, having given up their apartment to move into the house with us. He's not going far, but I refuse to give him an opportunity to escape.

Bobby shackles his ankles while I cuff his hands behind him again. We each get him under an arm and haul him to his feet. If we let go, he'll hit he floor. Steph holds the door open and we carry him through.

Lester raises an eyebrow. "We're taking him to Hector." Lester smiles and grabs his feet. If he opens his eyes now, he'll be facing the carpet. I briefly consider letting him drop onto the floor. In the end, though, I don't. Steph wants Hector to have him, so Hector is going to get him.

And I want him to be conscious for that.

Tank opens the elevator doors and follows us in. When the doors open on the fourth floor, he follows us out and takes up a position across the hall from the apartment.

At the door to the apartment where Hector and Juan have been living for the past week, Steph knocks politely on the door. A moment later, Hector opens the door. He's still moving slowly. He's still hurting. He's still healing. He's not up for a physical confrontation. It becomes clear to me why Steph attacked before delivering Martinez to Hector. This was her intention from the moment I gave her control.

Steph smiles and carefully hugs Hector. "Brought you a present."

"I see that." I can tell by the look on Hector's face that he knows who his present is. And I can tell he's pleased to get it. All of a sudden, I remember why Hector terrifies people – even me. Steph, of course, is unfazed by the change in his demeanor. But then, being his regular partner, she's probably seen this change before. And she knows he'd die before hurting her.

"Do you want him?" Steph asks, sounding for all the world like she's presented him with a puppy instead of a killer.

Hector swings the door wide. "Please." We walk in and deposit him on the kitchen floor. It's easier to get blood off of tile than out of carpeting. Bobby hands smelling salts to Lester. He opens the vial and holds it under the mutilated nose of Diego Martinez. Diego gags and jerks his head away.

Hector turns to Steph. "Has he done what you asked?"

"No. He declined to make the right decision."

Hector nods. "And you brought him to me to get your answers?"

Steph looks surprised. "No. I brought him to you because he shot you."

"He shot you, too."

Her eyes darken. "But he hurt you."

"He hurt you, too," is Hector's soft reply.

"Not the same way."

"No. Worse."

Steph's eyes snap to Hector's. "No. He hurt them worse."

Hector bows his head slightly, conceding her point. "We cannot give him to them."

She shakes her head. "No."

"But it is not right for either of us to take care of this alone."

I think I'm lost. I'm not totally sure what they're talking about, beyond Martinez and the people he hurt and upon whom he has inflicted the most damage.

Steph looks thoughtful. "No. I suppose it's not."

"Together, then?"

"Together." Her voice is firm and sure.

"Okay, Hermana. Together." Hector walks into the living area and unlocks a drawer in the entertainment center. He removes a small black case and returns to us. He opens it and allows Steph to choose from the objects in the case. Knives, with blades incredibly thin and lethally sharp. Wide blades that will make a big hole. Skewers. A straight razor. A switchblade. Needles – big needles. A small, pointed hammer. Needle nose pliers…

Steph selects a knife with a blade about a half-inch wide. Hector takes the hammer. At his request, the cuffs and shackles are removed. Hector removes a thick piece of stainless steel from a pocket in the case and hands it to Steph, who places it on the floor and then flattens Martinez's left hand on it. She spreads his fingers. Hector brings the hammer down on Diego's little finger. The man screams.

Steph doesn't flinch. "Did that hurt?" Her voice is harsh, but calm. Diego is suddenly covered in sweat. His eyes become filled with terror. He fails to answer her question. "I guess not," she says, then yanks hard on his shattered finger. He screams again. "How about that?" He gasps, trying to speak. "Are you ready to make the right choices now?" she asks sweetly.

Seeing her like this is both terrifying and fascinating. It's not her, but it is her. This is what happens when Stephanie Manoso reaches the end of her rope. Like a mama bear, she'll do whatever is necessary to protect her cubs – no matter how old they are.

Steph is still holding down Diego's hand. Again, Hector raises the hammer. This time, it's poised over the webbing between his ring finger and newly mutilated finger. Martinez lets out a terrified squeak. "'Scuse me?" Hector asks. "You got something to say?"

Martinez gasps for breath, his eyes rolling wildly in his head. He coughs. "Ah.."

Hector pauses, the hammer hovering over its target. "Talk."

"What….choices…" he chokes out.

Steph looks him in the eye. "Choices regarding the safety and well-being of your children."

Martinez laughs at her. Then he spits blood on her boots. The hammer comes down on his hand. He screams. Steph lashes out, her knife drawing a fine line of blood down his cheek. He screams again.

Hector grabs Diego's chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Answer her. Give her the right answer."

Something in Diego's face changes. He didn't take Steph seriously. He takes Hector seriously. Very, very seriously. I can see the moment when his attitude changes. Like someone flipped a switch in his head, making him realize how deep the shit that he is in actually goes.

He jerks away from Hector and turns to Steph. Her expression mirrors Hector's. For a split second, I am afraid of her. Lester and Bobby move back a step. It takes a concentrated effort to remain where I am and not step back to join them.

"Puta. What do you want?"

Hector taps Diego's injured finger with the hammer. "Apologize."

Diego groans. "Sorry," he hisses. "What do you want?"

"I want you to give your children the life they deserve. Give them a family. I want you do give them to me and my husband."

Diego rolls his eyes. "Who would marry you?"

Steph smiles again. That cold, unpleasant smile that turns her soft blue eyes into ice. She points at me. "He did."

He turns to me. "You? You married her? Yer Ranger, right? From some PMC in the Garbage State. I hearda you."

I smile. It's no warmer than Steph's. "I did marry her. Since you've heard of me, I'm sure you know what we're capable of doing."

"How much will you give me for them?"

Disgust fills me. Steph answers before I can. "I will let you live."

He snorts and spits blood on the floor. "You won't kill me."

Hector stands up and looks down at him. "If she doesn't, I will."

Martinez's dark skin pales until he's as light as his children. He's catching on to the fact that he will die if he fails to cooperate. "Why you want them?"

"Because they're good children who deserve better than what they've gotten so far."

"They're like animals. They're wild."

Funny, but they hadn't been that way with us. They'd been remarkably good, considering their lives recently. I speak. "Better animals than monsters like you."

He turns to me with a calculating look. "You gonna sell them? Or use them? They're all untouched. You could be the first to touch them. Sell them to the highest bidder."

Bile rises in my throat as he speaks, insinuating that we want the children for sex slaves or profit.

"You sick fucking son of a bitch!" He never sees Steph's fist coming. Again, she strikes him in the temple. When he goes down, she follows him, her fists landing on his ribs again and again.

I let her pummel him for a moment, then I step forward and gently lift her off of him. I wrap my arms around her and hold her to me. "Your call, Babe," I whisper into her ear. She shivers.

She takes a deep breath, looking down at the man on the floor. "He's not going to cooperate, is he?"

I meet Hector's eyes over her head. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. I agree with him. This guy is not going to cooperate. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to say to her. "No, Babe."

She sags against me for a second. This is not what she wanted. She nods once and stands up straight, squaring her shoulders resolutely. "He chose."

Hector reaches over and cups her face in his hand. "Si. He chose. Remember that, Querida."

Her eyes close for a moment. When she reopens them, I can tell she has resolved herself to what must be done. "Babe. I can do this for you."

Lester steps up next to us. "So can I."

Bobby nods. "I'd be more than happy."

Hector looks at Steph. "It's your choice."

I learned at the beginning of our relationship just how important it is to her to have choices. To be able to make decisions for herself. To have control over what happens to her.

Her eyes meet Hector's. "Together?" she asks.

He inclines his head toward her. "Together," he agrees quietly.

We sit Martinez up against the cabinets. Lester holds the smelling salts under his nose again. Again, he gags and twists to get away from the ammonia fumes.

Steph crouches in front of him. She's holding the knife loosely in her right hand. Hector crouches next to her and covers her hand on the knife. She looks at Martinez. "This is your final chance."

Diego looks her in the eye. "You don't have the balls to kill me, you stupid bitch"

Hector guides the knife to Diego's chest, just about where his heart would be if he had one. Hector looks at Diego. "You chose." As he speaks, the knife sinks into Diego's chest, more slowly than I would have thought possible.

Diego has the nerve to look surprised. He's so shocked that he doesn't even struggle.

Lester calls for Tank to bring a body bag. He looks to me. "Slayer Territory?" I nod. The body will be dumped in an area and in such a manner so that he will appear to be a gang-related kill. No one who knows the truth will ever tell. The kids already know about his violent lifestyle and gang affiliations. People like him die every single day. Frequently, they die by the same violence with which they lived. "Identifiable?"

I look to Steph. "Do you want the cops to be able to positively identify the body?"

"Yeah. I don't want the kids to live with his existence hanging over their heads. I want them to feel safe."

Hector and Steph stand up. Tears are running down her face. He pulls her into his arms and holds her for a minute. We are all aware of what today has cost her. None of us are willing to let her suffer alone. Hector releases her. She turns to me. I take one look at her and pull her into the bathroom, where I hold her while she throws up.

I sit on the floor with her in my lap long after the dry heaves stopped. I want to make sure the body is gone the kitchen is clean before I take her out of here.

Hector comes in and sits on the floor with me. He reaches out and rubs Steph's back. "Are you okay, Querida?." His voice is gentle.

She sniffles and nods against my chest.

"You did the right thing, Babe." That gets me another nod and a sniffle.

Honestly, her reaction is not because she's never killed anyone before. She killed Alpha and Cone. But she's never killed anyone like this. In cold blood. To protect someone else. Like I killed Abruzzi to keep her safe. It's going to be hard for her. She's not a monster. Killing someone when you're in fight-or-flight mode is a very different feeling than killing someone on purpose.

Lester, Bobby, and Tank appear in the bathroom doorway. I look at them. They silently convey the fact that the cleanup is complete. Lester raises an eyebrow in question. Hector sees him and shrugs. She's not really okay.

Lester steps into the bathroom and lifts her out of my lap. He cuddles her against his chest. He whispers something into her hear that's inaudible to the rest of us. She nods slightly in response. The muscles in his arms flex slightly as he holds her tighter. He presses a kiss into her hair and hands her off to Bobby, who takes her and holds her tight to his chest, her head on his shoulder.

He doesn't whisper into her ear. He speaks softly, though, just loud enough for all of us to hear what he says. "I'm proud of you, Baby. It takes a lot of guts to love someone else's kids that much."

She doesn't react visibly, but the front of his shirt is wet with her tears when he passes her to Tank.

Tank doesn't speak softly. He doesn't pull punches. "This is why we named our baby girl after you. You're strong and you take damned good care of the people you love. Those kids have no one but you., and they're damned lucky."

Tank's words start the tears in earnest. He quickly hands her off to me. They leave to dispose of the body. I carry her out of the bathroom. She refuses to look at the kitchen area. I settle on the couch with her until her tears slow down. Hector gets a box of tissues and sits next to us. "Ranger."

"Yes, Babe?"

"I can't face the kids today. Can you just take me upstairs and tell them I'm sick, please?"

"Okay, Babe."

"I'll go tell them," Hector volunteers. "When Juan gets home, we'll be up with soup, Hermana."

"Thank you." Her body is shaking with emotion.

I take her up to the seventh floor and strip her out of her uniform. I put her in the shower and get in with her. I scrub every inch of her body. There's no blood on her body, but I know her well enough to know she'll feel dirty after when happened. I want to make her feel clean. I can't make her feel better. I can't take away the situation or its resolution. I can support her, though. I can make her feel clean again. I can show her how much I love her.

She's still shaking.

When I've scrubbed her body and washed and rinsed her hair, I get out and grab a bath sheet. I wrap her in it and pull her close to me. "I love you, Babe." We don't say the words often. Today, though, I feel that she needs to hear them. I rub her body and hair dry. I gently comb the tangles out of her curls and apply the stuff that keeps them mostly under control.

By the time I'm done, the shaking has slowed down to the occasional shiver. Now that the adrenaline rush is over, she's looking drained. I carry her to the bed and slide in next to her. I pull her to me and tip her face up to meet mine. I kiss her gently, our lips barely touching. "I'm proud of you, Stephanie."

Her tear-filled eyes meet mine. "I'm a terrible person! I killed a man today!"

"Babe, you're a good person who did what needed to be done in order to keep three innocent children safe."

She lets out a sob. "I killed their father!"

"You killed someone who wanted to use them. He was willing to sell them, Babe. That's not a father. That's a monster."

She shivers against me. "Is this how you felt when you killed Abruzzi?"

I've never actually confirmed that I killed him for her. I always felt it would upset her. Today, she's already upset, and I sense that the confirmation will help her. "Yes."

I don't tell her about the savage pleasure that rushed through me when I saw his brain splattered across the window... It was satisfying. It made me almost giddy to know that she was safe from a monster like him. There was relief. The pleasure, though… it was so intense the feeling was almost sexual.

Even now, my reaction to the memory of that feeling is an erection. Unfortunately, I am holding her too close for her to miss my reaction. Her eyes fly to mine, stunned at my reaction. She gasps. "Did killing him…excite you?"

I phrase my answer very carefully. "No. But knowing you were safe did." I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her. I really do not want to continue this conversation. And I know the very best way to distract her. I begin moving my hands on her body and deepen the kiss.