Author's Note: Hey. So, I'm sending Ranger in the Wind. After this next batch of six, he's going in the Wind. Normally, I do a little deux ex machina and get him out of his contract but not this time. I've always liked it when he goes in the Wind with an established Babe relationship and I look forward to the challenge of doing it in this AU. Those chapters will be in both POVs. However, this section is in Steph's head and I hope you guys enjoy it. And the Butterfly update is coming, y'all. I swear on all things chocolate.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

"How'd he get in?"

"Picked the lock."

"How'd you get in?"

"Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and lock that shit up."

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

"Well, this is a treat. I'm surprised that Manoso lets you out of his sight more than 10 seconds, Stephanie."

Ah, lovely. Morelli's here. With a roll of my eyes, I continued doing my pull ups (I'm up to 22, now) and I could feel him watching me. Once I got used to the whole working out thing, I found that I'm really good at it and it shows. I can run longer, climb over high fences, and jump from places without worrying about killing myself (or breaking my arm). Not to mention that my body's become streamlined from it all. I still have curves but they're tighter and I actually have abs. They're not like Fergie's or Gwen Stefani's but still…abs!

In order to supplement my training with Carlos (and save on gas), I decided to join the fitness center at the Burg border. It had been built a few years ago and now offered everything from aerobics to Zumba. When I have insomnia, I don't toss and turn anymore. I get up, drink a little coffee (or Mountain Dew) and come here for a while. I can do my workout routine sans running and make it home in time for sleep or for Carlos to arrive for the day. From 10PM on, the weight room was practically empty and the perky trainers knew better than to bother me, now.

Now, if only this fool could take a fucking hint…

"Carlos knows better than to try and make me do anything. What do you want?" I asked while lowering myself to my feet.

"Hey, it's a free country! I can be here if I want to!" he pointed out defensively.

"I know it's a free country and you're not just here, you're annoying me…again."

"Well, if you'd just hold still and talk to me, I wouldn't annoy you!"

"Somehow, I don't believe you."

After the thing at Cho's, Morelli's made it point to be seen by me with different women around town every weekend. He's also made it a point to be in Receiving just as I come around. When he tries to initiate non- Skip related conversation, I keep my mouth shut, just looking at him with dead eyes until he gives up and lets me go about my business. He's been spotted at my mother's every Wednesday night and he once sent me a chocolate eclair when I had stopped at the Tasty Pastry for a break. I "accidentally" knocked it to the floor and when the time came to leave, I made sure to step on it. It took a while to get it all off of my boot but the 'Fuck off!' sentiment was clear to everyone. Everyone but him, anyway…

"Look, I'm not trying to interfere with whatever the hell you and Manoso call yourselves doing. I just want to be your friend again. You remember that we used to be friends, don't you?"

"Yeah and look how beautifully that turned out." I said with mock cheer as I started pedaling on the bike.

"Yeah, yeah…I know. I'm a Pre-K fingering, virginity stealing bastard and the scum of the fucking Earth. Look, I was young and dumb. I shouldn't have done that shit to you and if I could take it back, I would. But, I can't. I'm just asking for a clean slate. A new beginning. You say that Manoso lets you make your own decisions…"

"No, I said that I make my own decisions without anyone's permission, even Carlos'. And my decision is to have as little to do with you or anyone else named Morelli as possible. See, I've got a clean slate kick of my own going and I don't feel like messing it up with you. Now, either work out or go home. You keep on bugging me and I'll charge you with harassment. You said that being a Cop in Jail is worse than Hell. Maybe that'll motivate you."

"Are you threatening an officer of the law?"

"No, I'm promising a stupid prick who won't take a hint that if I can't get him to leave me be on my own, then I can and will make it so his Boys get some attention in the tender loving hoosegow."

"You don't even have any proof of me harassing you!"

"Are you sure?" I volleyed back flatly, making his eyes narrow at me further.

I actually do have proof. After the Russian Roulette incident (and after Carlos had some delicious Plum Pie for breakfast…), he recommended that I start logging my interactions with Morelli: date, time, length and gist of conversation, witnesses, and comfort level. All of it was saved on my laptop and in a one subject notebook in my trusty Satchel of Justice. If Morelli decides to take things too far (or I truly get sick of him), I can turn it over to his CO and get him demoted, fired, or locked up as a stalker. I know that he hasn't stolen any of my panties or cut off one Rex's paws (if he did, then Carlos would exterminate him like a Dalek) but…his behavior's enough to arch some brows. With the right lawyer and a little Waterworks, it can be done.

It seems like it will be done…

"Jesus Christ, Stephanie! And then you wonder why none of the guys around here want anything to do with you!"

"Why the hell would I want them? I already have a good man and I plan on keeping him. So, are you working out or what? If you hurry, you can get into the midnight hot yoga class." I replied pleasantly, finally making him leave in a snit.

I hissed out an aggravated sigh through my teeth but gave myself a mental pat on the back for not raising my voice once. I've been taking Lester's Negative Circle of Life advice seriously and trying to keep a leash on the Rampaging Rhino. After the grown up First Argument/Conversation Carlos and I had about the bruise, I figured out that keeping calm and carrying on wasn't just for the field. Keeping one's voice down forces people to listen to you and makes yelling even more effective when you have to. I know I said I could take it and throw it back at him if Carlos ever yelled at me (and I could…) but I'd still cry a little because I made him yell. If he's yelling, then shit's real and needs to be handled ASAP. The Receiving Area Shutdown is a prime example. He yelled, Morelli listened for a little while, and shit got handled quickly and effectively because he yelled.

Main Idea of the Lesson: Yelling is a rarely used tool, not a way of life.

I want to have that attitude.

And besides, all that yelling makes a girl's throat sore and I figure that if my throat's gotta hurt, a very tasty Cuban stogie and its equally tasty owner should be involved...

Hey, just because I'm trying to be a grown up now doesn't mean my Hungarian Hormones are dead.