Free At Last

by writes4fun-81

Ranger and the men who served with him in the Army have many secrets. One secret in particular prevents them from living regular lives. What will happen when they get a second chance at being normal? *Spoilers for FLF and others* BabeFic. HEA. COMPLETE.

37. Chapter 37

Free At Last

Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.

A/N: Happy New Year! First of all, I want to apologize for being so far behind on answering your wonderful reviews. I promise to answer every one of them very soon, but I thought you might like it better if I spent my winter holiday typing up the rest of the story. Honestly! I can't believe I've been posting this story for an entire year! Please remember; instead of fumbling around with line-by-line translations, I have chosen to indicate the characters' use of the Spanish language by placing double asterisks (**) outside of their quotation marks. Anyway, I hope this extremely long chapter, which I do realize could have been presented as several smaller chapters, will make up for my slowness. Enjoy!

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Ranger and I had a sort of loose partnership. Ranger was a genuine, cool-ass, numero-uno bounty hunter. I asked him to help me because I was still learning the trade and needed all the help I could get.

Two for the Dough

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Chapter 37: Dynamic Duo

Winter: Julie Martine's POV

Parents are, like, so weird. I mean, like, my mom and dad used to be cool – for parents, that is. They used to let me ride my bike all over the neighborhood and, like, have sleepovers with my friends all the time. But now, everything is, like, different – and not in a good way. Now I can't go anywhere or do anything without my mom, like, flipping out about my safety and all. It really sucks!

Here's the deal: I have a birth father and I have a dad. My birth father, Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, divorced my mom, Rachel, right after I was born, so, like, his name is on my birth certificate and all. I know it's weird, but actually I call him "Ranger." That's what a bunch of his Army buddies call him, too. I was only two when my mom married Ronald Martine, who, like, became my adoptive father. I call him "Dad" and he and my mom have two more kids besides me. So, even though the only last name I've ever written on any of my school papers is "Martine," I know that I'm, like, really a Mañoso, too.

A lot of my friends have divorced parents and, like, they sometimes spend weekends and vacations someplace else. Ranger mostly lives in New Jersey, where I have, like, all kinds of aunts and uncles and cousins that I just met last year. My birth dad doesn't have any kind of, like, custody over me, but he almost always visits on my birthday, which is in the middle of July. Ron is pretty cool with Ranger and all, but sometimes my little brother and sister get jealous because I get, like, awesome birthday presents every year. Sometimes, when Ranger is in Miami – where we live – my mom says it's, like, okay for him to visit with me. I really love all my parents, but it's still, like, weird, you know?

Ranger runs his very own company, called RangeMan. Lots of his workers used to be in the Army, too, and now they're all bounty hunters. They're not exactly the police, but they can, like, arrest bad people and stuff. I've even heard my mom say that Ranger is kind of like Batman. Sounds cool, huh? His company also guards good people and puts security systems in, like, rich peoples' houses. They put one in our house, too, even though we're not, like, rich or anything.

There are RangeMan buildings in a bunch of cities, including Miami. The one here is downtown on Biscayne Boulevard and I'm, like, not allowed to go to that part of town. In fact, I've never been to the RangeMan office here, but I've been to the one up in Trenton – which is, like, the capitol city of New Jersey. I was the only one in my sixth grade class who got that question right on our geography quiz last week!

The biggest problem in my life now is that my mom won't actually, like, let me have a life. She says it's not safe for me to be outside anymore, even though my counselor, Mrs. Ferguson, says that I should be, like, getting back into doing normal stuff by now. You see, last year I was kidnapped and taken away to New Jersey. Everyone thought that Ranger had turned bad and, like, taken me away from my mom and dad. But it wasn't him that did it. A real crazy guy named Edward Scrog tried to ruin our lives, and even though he's, like, dead, he's done a pretty good job so far.

The crazy guy looked a lot like Ranger and he was so crazy that he decided he wanted to be Ranger. As if! I mean, my father is too cool to be copied by anyone. Anyway, Scrog wanted me to call him "Dad" and all, but I wouldn't do it. I called him "Chuck" instead. Chuck even killed his own wife and then kidnapped Stephanie Plum – a lady he knew that Ranger liked, like, a lot. He was so crazy, he thought that the three of us would become, like, a family after he got rid of Ranger. Totally wacko!

Things were, like, pretty bad for a while, especially when Chuck gave me some drugs which, like, knocked me out. Then he tied up Stephanie and set a trap for Ranger in Stephanie's apartment. When Ranger walked into the trap, Chuck shot him a bunch of times – but he didn't kill him. My father is so tough! I decided to be like Ranger and I was able to get Chuck's gun away from him and I actually, like, shot him. Then the police all rushed in and the ambulance guys took my father to the hospital. There was lots of blood everywhere and sometimes I still have, like, nightmares about it.

My mom used to tell me to, like, always look on the "bright side" of stuff, but she hardly ever does that anymore. We were all glad that, like, nobody sent me to jail - even though Chuck died later. I think everybody thought he got what he deserved. I think that the bright side of the kidnapping was that I got to meet Stephanie and most of my Mañoso family while we waited for my mom to come up and get me. My Grandma Gloria, Ranger's mom, is, like, the best cook ever and she introduced me to a ton of cousins I never knew I had. It was kinda weird, but everyone was, like, happy to meet me and they all were glad that I was safe, too.

The not-so-bright side of everything that happened last year is that now I have to, like, talk to Mrs. Ferguson – the counselor - every other week. She's always asking me a bunch of questions about, like, my dreams and nightmares and stuff and what I'm thinking. For a while, she kept trying to figure out if Chuck had touched me or harmed me in my private places. Ick! It took me, like, a long time to convince her that Chuck wasn't bad like that. Still, I don't think Mrs. Ferguson really believes me.

The worst part is that I think my mom doesn't believe me either. You see, I used to be able to play outside with my friends, but not anymore. I used to take ballet classes, but not anymore. My brother and sister and I used to play soccer, but not anymore. Like I said before, my life totally sucks! Since my dad wasn't having any luck convincing my mom that everything should be, like, back to normal, I thought that maybe my father would have a better chance at it. So, when I called Ranger at Christmastime, I asked him to come down for a visit.

Ranger and Stephanie just got married, like, two months ago. They, like, eloped and everything. Amazingly, my parents actually took me to the party in South Beach after the wedding and I met Ranger's mom's dad, my Great-Grandfather Súarez, and a few more relatives I didn't even know I had here in Miami. That was, like, so cool! I'm really glad that the Dynamic Duo – that's what I've decided to call Ranger and Stephanie now – came down to Florida to, like, talk some sense back into my mom. I know it's not cool to be sneaky and all, but while they all were sitting in my parents' living room, I listened to their conversation through the air vent in my room.

"Rachel, be reasonable," Ranger said. "Julie's still a young girl. Let her have her childhood back. If the professional counselor thinks it would be best for Julie to resume her former activities, then why won't you even consider it?"

"She could get hurt again, Ranger," replied Rachel. "I just can't let that happen!"

"Honey, you know that the likelihood of something like this happening again is very slight," said Ron.

"I know no such thing!" Rachel exclaimed angrily. "Ranger has spent his entire adult life chasing after bad guys both here and abroad. Who knows how many enemies he's made? I refuse to subject my family to this kind of horror ever again!"

Ranger's voice was soothing when he said, "Rachel, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of this, but I truly believe that the Scrog incident was one-of-a-kind."

"Yes," Rachel replied coldly. "But it was one time too many, Ranger! We may never know the lasting damage that … that monster inflicted upon my baby!" Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence and she began to weep quietly.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're not talking about exactly the same thing?" Ranger asked carefully.

Ron sighed and explained, "Julie's counselor thinks that she might be repressing some, uh, sexual abuse. Rachel thinks so, too."

"What?" exclaimed Stephanie. "How can you think that? I never saw any evidence of that sort of thing. When Scrog …captured me, I asked Julie about that very thing and she said he hadn't touched her like that. She was even wearing the same clothes she had on when he took her."

"But in the official report, you said that both of you were chained to a bed," Rachel choked out. "How can you sit there and tell me that nothing happened on that bed?"

"Because nothing happened – I swear," Stephanie insisted. "I'll admit that when Scrog snatched me, he … he totally undressed me and put different clothes on my body before he took me to the trailer. But that was because he figured that I had to be wearing a wire or something. Even then, he didn't, um, molest me. Not sexually, anyway."

Ranger said, "Rachel, Scrog was a very sick man, but he saw himself as playing the role of Julie's father. It's a good sign that Julie had on all of her original pieces of clothing when Stephanie first saw her. Apparently, Scrog only drugged or stunned his victims in order to drag them from place to place – not to abuse them."

"But the fact still remains that that madman drugged Julie over and over again!" Rachel wailed. "No one can be sure that nothing sexual happened while she was unconscious. And I can't believe that you, Stephanie, don't think anything happened either!"

"Honey, please calm down," Ron urged. "The doctors have examined Julie and they've assured us that her body doesn't have any signs of that kind of abuse. Stephanie was there and she saw no evidence of abuse. Even Julie has told you, time and again, that she really is okay. Can't you please let this go?"

"Why are you all ganging up on me like this?" complained Rachel. "I have to do what's best to keep my family safe. I'm just trying to be strong – like you always are, Ranger. You're supposed to be on my side! Why can't you just support me?"

"I am trying to support you, Rachel, but you're making it difficult," Ranger quietly replied. "When Julie called me, she told me that you won't let her do any of the things she used to be able to do, like her dance classes or playing soccer. She's miserable, Rachel – and so are your other kids. She said you didn't even take them out to the mall for Christmas shopping or to get their photo taken with Santa. You can't keep them all inside all the time and hope that nothing bad ever happens to them ever again."

"Oh, yeah?" Rachel challenged. "Just wait until you two have kids of your own and then let's see what happens. Playtime will be over! I know you, Ranger, and you're worse than I am about security and all that. Mark my words: I bet you'll keep your kids locked up tight in whatever kind of fortress you're living in by then."

There was silence for a few seconds and I really wished, like, I could see all the grown-ups' faces. It sounded like my mom wasn't changing her mind at all. Maybe she was even becoming, like, worse than before. How depressing was that? I heard some whispering, but I couldn't tell whose voices they were. Then, Ranger began to speak again and – I swear – it made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

"Rachel, listen to me," Ranger said. "The reason Stephanie and I are down here in Florida isn't about playtime. It isn't even really about work, either. We're headed over to Tampa for some serious psychological counseling. I'm not even allowed to take on any new missions until a military psychiatrist clears me for duty."

"I – I don't understand," said Rachel. "Guys like you always say that shrinks are for sissies."

"Guys like me are wrong sometimes. I was wrong about this," Ranger replied. "Look Rachel, it's not easy for me either. You know how bad I felt when Scrog took Julie. I was caught off-guard and that terrified me. Now that Stephanie and I are married, some … other things from my past have surfaced. There are things that I must deal with right away. I can't move forward with any confidence until I get my head straightened out. Now, if I can admit that I need help to get over a particular trauma, perhaps it's time that you did the same. Not just for Julie's sake, but for your own sake and Ron and the kids', too. You're wasting precious time by being paranoid about the world. Bad things happen all the time. You can't prevent them – you just have to deal with them in a way that's best for everyone involved."

"Whoa! You must be serious, Ranger," Rachel sounded amazed. "That's the most you've ever said to me at any one time."

Stephanie snickered and then cleared her throat. "Rachel, if it's any consolation, I'm going to see a counselor, too," she said. "I've realized that there's no point in Carlo- er, Ranger going through this alone. Besides, there are lots of people back home who probably have been saying that I'm definitely long overdue for seeing a shrink."

"I don't believe this!" Rachel said weakly. "All this time I … I've tried to be strong. I've tried to be hard and protective – like you, Ranger - and now you're telling me that I've been wasting my time and making my family miserable? What am I supposed to do? How can I get through this?"

"Get help, Rachel," Ranger replied. "My doctor gave me the names of some family counselors here in Miami-"

"Do you know how much these counselors charge?" Rachel cut him off, "You're already paying for Julie's counseling sessions, but Ron and I – we … we just can't afford all the fees."

"Rachel, please. You know that money is no object here," Ranger sounded a little angry now. "This is partly my fault and I've always accepted and taken care of my responsibilities. I'll gladly pay for your sessions and Julie's sessions and whatever other treatments may be necessary."

"What do you mean by 'other treatments'?" Rachel asked. "I'm not crazy. And I refuse to go through any sort of inpatient care."

Ranger sighed and said, "That's not what I was talking about. What if your entire family would benefit from a few group counseling sessions? What if there's an opportunity for you and Ron to get away on a couples' retreat? And what if one of your counselors recommends that you all go away on a family vacation as part of your recovery? Those are the sorts of other treatments I'm talking about here."

"Yes," Stephanie added, "Ranger's doctor told us about some of the things that the military mental health professionals are doing to help families who have been through all kinds of trauma since the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have produced so many severely injured soldiers."

"Oh," was all Rachel said.

"Why don't you let us sleep on it tonight?" Ron suggested. "There's a lot for me and Rachel to think about and discuss. We can get back to you in the morning, okay?"

I couldn't hear the answer, so I guessed that the adults were, like, nodding their heads or something. For the first time in a long time, though, I had some hope. I was so glad I had called Ranger. Bringing in the Dynamic Duo was, like, one of my best ideas ever! And from the sound of things, maybe we'd all actually get to go someplace special spring break! My brother and sister might actually forgive me and things could, like, get back to normal and stuff. Now that would be worth all this trouble!

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Winter: Stephanie's POV

Ranger and I spent a few days in Miami before we flew across the state to Tampa. It took us the better part of two days to convince Julie's mom, Rachel, to go to some counseling sessions with a highly-recommended psychiatrist that Dr O'Neill told us about. Oddly enough, I think it was Ranger's admission that he, too, would be going into counseling for his PTSD that really made all the difference for Rachel. I hoped that we all would get better real soon so that life could get back to normal – that is, if there is such a thing as normal when it comes to Ranger and me.

Have I mentioned that I love being in Florida in the winter? My mother called to tell me that New Jersey got blanketed with almost a foot of snow the day after we left. For once, she was glad that her mother was enjoying the warmth and safety of the Florida winter. I couldn't agree more. Every time I saw Grandma Mazur, she looked happier than ever.

On the next-to-the-last day of our stay in Miami, Ranger and I spent a very pleasant afternoon on the beach with Grandma Mazur and Bruno, Papí Súarez, Silvio and Juanita, Ranger's cousins Cat and Val, and Val's partner, Chano. Rosie had packed a fabulous picnic lunch for all of us and we bought ice cream cones from one of the many vendors along the beach. Everyone was very relaxed and our conversations were filled with laughter.

"Grandma! Omigod!" I gasped through my guffaws at her latest story. "Please tell me that you didn't tackle that poor old woman on your way to the discount sales rack!"

"Well, I almost had to, didn't I?" Grandma replied indignantly. "I just couldn't allow that old windbag to snag the last lilac velour suit. I saw it first! In fact, I was the one who told her about the outfit when we were waiting for Macy's to open up that morning. As soon as we crossed the threshold, I noticed the gleam in her piggy little eyes and I knew that she was going after it, too. But that suit was made for me and I won it fair and square!"

'You should have seen my Edna running through the store," Bruno beamed proudly. "She was like a gazelle!"

Grandma leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek and he grinned back at her. It was such a sweet gesture. I could tell that the old couple really was happy. The other couples with us seemed to be happy, too. Juanita's pregnancy was a bit more obvious now and whenever Silvio rubbed his hand over her "baby bump" – which was quite often – he would smile contentedly. Val and Chano shared an enormous beach towel and either entwined their fingers or touched their feet together or both. Ranger kept me encircled within his well-muscled, protective arms.

I hated to leave Miami, but I knew that we'd return soon enough. Or at least, I hoped so. Ranger had already warned me that the commuter flight we were taking from Miami to Tampa wouldn't be anything like our flight from Atlantic City to Miami, but just the memory of that fabulous flight was enough to keep my mind off of the fact that I was up in the air again. Before I knew it, we were landing in Tampa, ready to begin our next adventure.

When we first arrived in Tampa, Ranger's Uncle Marcos and his wife, Maribel, insisted that we stay with them in their waterfront house. Actually, "house" isn't the proper term for their palatial dwelling. It seemed like every time I turned around, I was meeting some more relatives of Ranger's that he hadn't told me about before. He has uncles and aunts and cousins and nephews and nieces everywhere

When Aunt Maribel took me on a complete tour of her home, I was astounded by its simple elegance and "old world" charm. There was a lush garden in front of the L-shaped mansion and a nice-sized swimming pool in the back yard. There was even a large boat slip beyond the pool, big enough for the Batcave yacht. Maribel told me that Papí usually sailed from Miami to Tampa at least once every winter and stayed with her and Marcos for more than a month. If we stayed in town long enough, she assured us that we would see the Súarez family patriarch.

The guest house where Ranger and I stayed for the first part of our time in Tampa was connected to the main mansion by a covered breezeway alongside the pool. In the mornings, after he finished his workouts, Ranger brought in breakfast trays which Uncle Marcos' cook, Maria, had prepared for us. We enjoyed a variety of delicious omelets, freshly-baked breads, coffee and, yes, lots of fresh fruit – especially pineapple. I wondered if all of the cooks and chefs who served the various branches of the Súarez family kept in regular contact with Ella.

Ranger had to go to the nearby MacDill Air Force Base (AFB) every day that week, because he had all sorts of meetings with his former military bosses, as well as a few appointments with Dr. O'Neill and the psychiatrist who would be treating us, Dr. Ken Fiorelli. First though, Ranger had to go through several medical appointments and counseling sessions on his own. Uncle Marcos ran the Tampa branch of Súarez Euro Motorcars, so I spent a lot of time with Aunt Maribel. Her grown children were a bit older than Ranger and her youngest granddaughter was preparing for her fifteenth birthday party.

Maribel explained to me that the quinceañero – she pronounced it "keen-say-on-yarrow" - is the Latina version of a coming-of-age party. It's a major big deal and even though I stayed out by the swimming pool for much of the time, I got quite an education in the whole process. Ranger's cousin, Luz, Maribel's only daughter, had only one daughter and it was this girl –Blanca Rose - who was turning fifteen years old in April, right before Easter. A steady stream of caterers, dressmakers, and musicians kept coming in for interviews in the hopes that the wealthy women would hire one of them. It seemed like a lot of work, but some of it was fun work – especially when the bakery shops brought out their cake samples. Maribel and Luz always invited me to the taste-tests and really seemed to value my opinions.

"When Papí informed us that my wayward cousin Carlos had finally gotten married, he also told us that the bride truly appreciated food," explained Luz, with a twinkle in her clear brown eyes. "Mami here tells me Maria has enjoyed fixing all sorts of dishes for you because you give compliments to everything that is placed in front of you."

Blushing, I replied, "Well, it's impossible to resist the food that your family's chefs prepare. Everything is so delicious!" I was stretched out on a lounge chair next to the pool, working on my tan.

Luz flashed me a dazzling smile and said, "Shh! If Maria hears you gushing out such praise, she'll demand a bigger raise before the party. Anyway, I figure that anyone who can eat the way you do - and still keep your figure looking so nice - is certainly qualified to help us choose a menu for my Blanca Rose's quince." Then she went back to comparing the silky fabric swatches that were draped all over one of the poolside tables.

I sure hoped Blanca Rose understood that even though the upcoming party was for her, it was definitely her mother's and grandmother's party as well. For a moment, I felt sorry for the girl. I was sure that the mother-daughter relationship issues were the same, but this was an entirely different world from the Burg. Then I felt an odd surge of envy for the opulent lifestyle that so many of Ranger's relatives seemed to live: big yachts and bigger mansions, fancy cars and private airplanes, personal chefs and now, fabulous parties.

Suddenly, I realized that I had married into this wealthy enclave, too. Although there wouldn't be any more missed car payments and empty cupboards for me, I wondered if I was in danger of becoming a serious micromanager – like my mom and practically every female relative of Ranger's that I'd met so far. If Ranger and I ever had a daughter of our own, would everyone on his side of the family expect me to do this whole quinceañero thing, too? Then I got a chill because I wasn't sure I'd ever be ready to have a child. It was too much to try to comprehend all at once, so I rolled over and let the sun warm my backside.

The morning after Valentine's Day - we'd been in Tampa for a couple of weeks now - Ranger woke me up and said, "Babe, you gotta get up now. We need to pack our things and get ready to go. It's finally time for you to come with me and meet Dr. Fiorelli. We have a late-morning appointment with Dr. O'Neill first and then we'll meet the shrink at his private office off-base. Then … we'll be moving in to one of his … facilities … for a while." Obviously, he had just finished his morning workout and he smelled deliciously musky to me.

"W-what?" I mumbled as I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes. "Couldn't you have told me this last night – before we had stayed out so late?"

Ranger had taken me out to dinner and dancing in a part of town called Ybor City, where the Cuban food was excellent and the dance club atmosphere was hotter than hot. Afterward, we'd had steamy sex in the car before we returned to Uncle Marcos' house. When we finally made our way into the guest house, we enjoyed another steamy shower before we finally fell, completely exhausted, into bed at about three o'clock in the morning.

Ranger twirled a wayward strand of my hair around his index finger and replied, "Babe."

"Seriously, Carlos," I grumbled as I struggled to support myself on one elbow, "I need more of an advanced warning than this to get ready and you know it! Why did you wait 'til now?"

"It was Valentine's Day, Steph. We were having so much fun, I didn't want to ruin it for you," Ranger's lips brushed against mine and I felt myself melting into his embrace. "Besides," he continued, "I didn't want you to be anxious, either. Now, let's get you into the shower." Then he scooped me out of the bed and carried me into the luxurious bathroom. We took our time in the shower and I know I emerged feeling quite satisfied. Bathing with Ranger was an experience unto itself. Yum!

After I blasted my hair with the blow-dryer and got dressed in a short denim skirt and stretchy red T-shirt, I asked Ranger, "Carlos, what's going to happen today? And why did you think I'd be anxious about it?"

He finished threading a nice leather belt through the loops on his black slacks before answering me, "Stephanie, Dr. O'Neill wants to give you a few diagnostic tests and then you'll have to answer a bunch of questions for Dr. Fiorelli. There's nothing to worry about. I just wanted you to have fun last night." Then he leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him by bracing my hands against his naked, broad chest.

"Oh, no you don't, Carlos Mañoso!" I exclaimed. "You're not going to distract me this time. I want to know what's going on and I want to know right now! And for heaven's sake, why do we have to leave your uncle's house?"

Ranger sighed as he shrugged into one of his black guayabera shirts and he began to explain, "Dr. Fiorelli wants us to be in a more controlled environment while he treats my PTSD." After a long pause, while he finished buttoning his shirt, he added, "There are certain, ah …tasks that he'll want us to complete, and it'll be weird if we try to accomplish them here at my uncle's house. I already told my aunt and uncle that, due to the sensitive nature of our business here in Tampa, we would have to leave them today."

"What kind of tasks?" I asked warily.

"Steph, I think it'll be best if the doctor explains all that," he replied. "For now, you'll just have to trust me. C'mon, Babe, you finish packing while I hunt down some breakfast for you. I'll be right back." And with that, he quickly slipped out of the room before I could reply.

Dr. O'Neill was waiting for us in his office when we arrived at the base. After some small talk, he presented me with a manila folder full of papers with little "Sign Here" tabs stuck all over them and explained that they were just basic medical history and standard release forms. Ranger already had explained the importance of these papers so I wasn't exactly surprised, but I still I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach while I skimmed through and signed all the boring legal documents. Then the doctor collected samples of my blood, saliva, and urine before he escorted us out to our borrowed car in the parking lot.

"Nice wheels," remarked the doctor as he gestured toward the metallic sky blue Mercedes convertible that Uncle Marcos had insisted that we use while we were in town.

Ranger nodded and said, "Thank you, sir. It's my uncle's; he had a spare."

The doctor grinned. "I always forget how well-connected you are, Major Mañoso. I was going to let you and Stephanie borrow my son's car, but it looks so sad in comparison to what your family has already provided." He nodded toward a scruffy-looking dark blue Volkswagen Rabbit, sitting by itself on the other side of the parking lot. "We bought it before our son went off to college in Philadelphia, but we decided to keep it down here. You wouldn't believe how much the car insurance was going to cost me if he took the blasted thing up north! Anyway, it's been sitting in my garage for a while, so my wife suggested that I let you two borrow it while you're in Tampa. It's got the proper military ID tags and everything for you to be able to come and go from the airbase without having to hassle with a visitor's pass and all that rigmarole."

"That's very nice of you," I said.

The doctor smiled and pressed a set of car keys into my. "Why don't you go ahead and take it anyway? You never know when a second vehicle might come in handy around here."

I hesitated, not knowing what to say, but Ranger piped right up, "Sir, we appreciate your generosity, but … Stephanie doesn't exactly have the best track record with cars."

The doctor laughed and said, "I know. Between Silvio and some of the other guys who work for you now, I think I've heard all the stories of the infamous Bombshell Bounty Hunter, remember? It would almost be a kindness if something were to … ah … happen to this vehicle. My son probably would like to have a reason to get a nicer car."

"Wait just a minute, Dr. O'Neill!" I protested as Ranger tried not to crack a smile, "Are you saying that you'd be willing to let me drive your son's car in the hopes that my usual bad car karma kicks in while I'm here?"

The doctor's lips quirked into a half-smile and he said, rather sheepishly, "Well, it was just a thought. I didn't mean to offend you, Stephanie." Then he patted me on the shoulder in a very fatherly way.

I thought about tossing the car keys back to him, but then my practical side kicked in and I realized that the doctor's offer really was a good one. While Ranger and I were staying at his uncle's house, Maribel and Luz had taken me out to a variety of stores and other interesting places during the times when my husband was doing whatever it was that he had to do on the base all day. Now that Ranger and I had to stay in whatever "controlled environment" that the shrink had in mind, it might be nice to have my own set of wheels with which to explore my surroundings.

"On second thought, Doc," I announced, "I think I'll take you up on your offer. Thanks!" And, to Ranger's dismay, I pocketed the keys.

"It's my pleasure, Stephanie," Dr. O'Neill grinned. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this visit any less painful for you and your husband. I know you both sacrificed a lot in order to come down here on such short notice. Now, are you ready for a little tour of the airbase before your appointment with Dr. Fiorelli?"

"Uh … what?" I had been mesmerized by the sight of what had to be an alligator slowly making its way along the opposite side of the parking lot, toward the blue Volkswagen. I blinked in surprise when I realized that Dr. O'Neill had addressed his question to me.

Ranger chuckled and said, "Doc asked if you would like to take a tour of the airbase, Babe. I need to check in with one of my old bosses again before our head-shrinking appointment."

"Do they attack people?" I asked, never taking my eyes off of the large, ugly lizard.

"What?" both Ranger and Dr. O'Neill exclaimed simultaneously.

"Alligators," I said and pointed across the parking lot. "Do they attack innocent bystanders?"

Both men followed my gaze until they realized what I was talking about. The prowling reptile had stopped and it seemed to me that it was looking directly at us. I wondered if it was considering eating the little blue car. Then I wondered if the monster considered us to be better candidates for its lunch. Ranger placed two warm fingers on my chin and gently turned my face toward his.

"Babe," he said, "I don't want to you worry about the 'gators around here. This is Florida and those prehistoric lizards were here long before we humans moved in. As long as you keep your distance - and as long as you remain alert and aware of your surroundings - everything will be just fine."

"Great," I grumbled. "We all know how aware of my surroundings I am – not. And what am I supposed to do if it's hanging around the car, waiting to ambush me?"

Ranger pulled me into a reassuring embrace and said, "Babe, I promise: if you don't bother it, it won't bother you. But … you might want to wear your running shoes."

Ha ha, very funny. It was easy for him to make jokes about this. An alligator would take one good look at the big, menacing Ranger and decide that his tough hide wouldn't be worth all the trouble. In comparison, I figured I probably looked like a nice, juicy, easy-to-catch snack. Regardless of Ranger's flippant words, I knew I'd be keeping a close look-out for more of the scary creatures. And maybe I would have to resort to wearing my sneakers more often. I did not intend on getting gobbled up by a 'gator.

The tour of MacDill AFB took longer than I had thought it would. There were several large, ominous-looking buildings that Dr. O'Neill identified as the major command headquarters. Thank God Ranger had given me a bunch of tiny courses in military acronyms and slang before we came down to Florida, or else I'd have been completely lost. As it was, the only areas of the base that truly held my interest were the beaches and the marina. The doctor even treated me to lunch at the base's golf course clubhouse, where the view of the bay was simply spectacular.

When we finally met up with Ranger back at the medical facility parking lot, the alligator was gone. Ranger, however, had a dark expression on his face. He told us that his meeting went well, but he'd also found out that due to his current medical status, the government had placed a hold on all of the jobs that RangeMan normally would have handled. I could see that he was not happy about this situation, but when I tried to soothe him, he maintained his blank face, which really annoyed me.

"There's nothing you can do about it right now, Babe," Ranger said. His voice was quiet and steady – a sure sign that he was barely maintaining control over his emotions. "I gotta do what I gotta do so that we can get the hell outta here."

"Carlos, remember what we told Rachel? I'm here to help you; we're here together," I insisted. "You're not in this alone."

He glared first at me and then the doctor and then back at me again. "Well, Steph, that sounds real nice, but up until now, while you've been hanging out at my uncle's pool, helping to plan parties and crap, I've been the only one sitting in meetings and undergoing test after test after friggin' test. Only today, after the generals and everybody else are sure that I won't blab important bits of classified information in front of you, Babe, the shrink can bring you in on all the fun and games."

"His name is Dr. Ken Fiorelli – not 'the shrink'," Dr. O'Neill reiterated. "I really thought you two had warmed up to each other. I thought you had discovered your common ground."

One side of Ranger's mouth quirked up in a half-smile and he said cryptically, "Oh, Dr. Fiorelli and I found our common ground all right."

"Really?" I asked, surprised by this revelation. Ranger had avoided discussing anything that had to do with his daily activities so far. It was true; he had been going to "work" on the base while I had been lounging by the pool and "playing" with his aunt and cousin. I guessed he hadn't been as nonchalant about everything as I had previously thought.

Ranger sort-of shrugged and replied, "Fiorelli isn't that common of a name here in Florida, so I asked the good doctor where he was from and he said Long Island, New York. Turns out that Chano - my Cousin Valentino's partner - and Dr. Ken Fiorelli happen to be from the same family. Their fathers are first cousins."

"Wow," I said, "I guess it's a small world after all."

Neither man laughed at my little Florida/Disney joke. Spoil-sports!

"Why didn't you tell me about the family connection?" I asked. "Isn't that some sort of conflict of interest or something?"

Dr O'Neill cleared his throat and answered, "Ah, no. You'll be fine. By the way, after Dr. Fiorelli is done with you, you're more than welcome to join me and my wife for dinner tonight. We're just grilling some fish I caught the other day. Nothing fancy – I promise."

I glanced at Ranger and he glanced back at me. Somehow, even though my Batman really liked fresh fish, I didn't think that have dinner with the good doctor was big on his agenda for this particular evening. He politely declined Dr O'Neill's offer and the man said he completely understood. Then he wished us well, told us he had to go to a meeting at another building, slid into his classic silver 1962 Corvette and drove away.

"Okay, Carlos," I said after we both watched Dr. O'Neill's beauty of a car get farther and farther away from us. "What are we going to do for dinner tonight?" My stomach rumbled as though it was echoing my question.

"Babe," was Ranger's reply. Then he locked eyes with me and I realized that I definitely was on his menu.

Luckily for Ranger, I was hungry for him, also. Unluckily for us, we would have to wait until after our appointment with Dr. Fiorelli before we could appease our mutual appetites for one another. We quickly drove away from MacDill in the Mercedes so that we wouldn't be late. Ranger persuaded me that it would best if we stayed together so that he could talk me through the various routes to get from place to place. I agreed that we could pick up the Volkswagen later. Luckily for both of us, we'd had a great Valentine's Day celebration filled with lots of steamy, passionate sex. We didn't know that it would be our last bit of normalcy for quite a while.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Spring: Papí Suarez's POV

I like to travel all around the coast of Florida and the Caribbean Sea, especially during the winter months. As soon as the annual Miami International Boat Show was over, I began to plan my voyages. This year, I decided to set sail immediately after Miami's annual Calle Ocho Festival in March. I had stayed long enough with my family in South Beach and it was time for me to visit my son, Marcos, who lived near Tampa. Besides, his youngest granddaughter, Blanca Rose, who had been named for my own dear Blanca, was going to have her quinceañero celebration in April and I definitely did not want to miss such a momentous occasion. Of course, with a yacht like the Batcave, it didn't take more than a day to reach my destination.

Before I departed Miami, I called Tampa and asked my son and daughter-in-law what they thought of the "Dynamic Duo" – as I frequently referred to Carlos and his beautiful wife, Stephanie. When Marcos informed me that they had moved out to stay at some silly hotel on MacDill AFB, I was deeply disappointed in my grandson. I knew that he and Stephanie had gone to Tampa on some sort of business, but that should not have kept them from enjoying the hospitality of family in the area. I called Carlos the day after my arrival at Marcos' house to give him a piece of mind.

**"Carlos, is that you?"** I asked in Spanish when he answered his cell phone after the third ring.

"Papí?" he replied, sounding confused. **"What's the matter? Is everything okay in Miami?"**

**"It was when I left, so I suppose it still is,"** I replied.

**"Wait, where are you now?"**he asked.

I made my voice sound a bit colder than I had to, but I wanted to make a point. **"I'm at Marcos' house – in Tampa. We sailed around the coast yesterday. Funny thing, though; I thought I'd get a chance to see you and Stephanie when I arrived, but you're no longer staying here. Your uncle tells me that you left his comfortable home last month and moved into a hotel. He doesn't even know if you have plans to visit before you leave town. Of course, you'll have to return his car, but…"**

Carlos cut me off by saying, **"Papí, I was going to call Uncle Marcos as soon as it was reasonable for me to do so, but Stephanie and I are here on very serious business and-"**

I, in turn, interrupted him, **"So serious that you didn't even make time for a simple little phone call? No! Carlos, you can do better than that. I know that your Abuela Blanca would be very disappointed by your lack of manners."**

**"But Papí, I-"** he started and I cut him off again.

**"No buts!"** I said. **"You will bring Stephanie to dinner at Marcos' house tomorrow evening. Be here at seven o'clock sharp! I want to see you both for myself. I have a bad feeling that you're not treating your lovely wife right."** Then I disconnected the call before he had a chance to decline or make any more excuses for his poor manners.

My daughter-in-law, Maribel, was, as always, a gracious hostess. Marcos' wife ran an extremely organized household – much like my own Blanca. Her cook had prepared a spectacular dinner – not quite as good as Túlio's cooking, but, of course, my chef is the best. Everything was set for a fantastic meal, but I knew something was terribly wrong when Carlos and Stephanie arrived at Marcos' house on time the next evening. They looked awful! Everyone greeted each other courteously, but you could have cut through the thick tension between the newlyweds with a knife.

"So, Stephanie," Maribel began as the dessert dishes were being cleared away, "Luz and I have missed you since you moved out. How are your current accommodations?"

Stephanie, whose face looked much paler than the last time I had seen her, glanced at Carlos before replying, "They're … all right. We were in a hotel room at first, but … um, now we're staying in a townhouse. Neither place compares with your lovely home, though. How are the plans coming along for your granddaughter's party?" It was obvious that Stephanie wasn't happy with their current living arrangements, but after Carlos cleared his throat when she mentioned the townhouse, the topic didn't seem to be open for discussion.

Maribel hesitated before she answered, "Oh, everything is fine! We chose the baker that you really liked. Remember the one with the coconut cream cake?"

"That was the best cake I'd ever tasted!" Stephanie smiled. It was her first genuine smile of the evening. "Did you choose the caterers who made those little crab cakes and the saffron rice, too?"

"But of course!" Maribel smiled in return. "You have very good taste buds, Stephanie. I hope that you and Carlos will be able to attend Blanca Rose's quinceañero. We, ah, haven't received your response to the invitation – yet."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the dinner table as all eyes turned toward Carlos, whose unreadable facial expression spelled trouble. Of all my children and grandchildren, Carlos was the best at making his face completely blank when he did not want anyone to know his true feelings. On the other hand, Stephanie was quite easy to read because she wore everything on her face. Right now, she seemed very nervous and uptight. I had no idea what was troubling the couple, but I knew it had to be bad.

Deciding to change the subject, Marcos suddenly said, "Stephanie, I seem to remember that you told us you and Carlos met while working together as bounty hunters. Do you think you'll miss it?"

Stephanie looked confused. "Oh, Carlos and I still work together. In fact, I'm a full business partner in his company now."

Marcos chuckled and said, "Forgive me, my dear. What I meant to ask was do you think you'll miss all the excitement of your job once you start having children? Surely, you won't continue to do something so dangerous when you become a mother."

"I … uh …w-well-" Stephanie stammered incoherently and Carlos came to her rescue.

"We're not focused on having children at this time, Uncle Marcos," he said, with a tightness in his voice that indicated this topic also was not open for discussion – at all. Fortunately, the coffee arrived then and we all busied ourselves with pouring the cream and passing the sugar around the table.

"Well, Carlos, you can imagine our surprise when you and Stephanie moved out of my house," Marcos said. "We knew you were here in Tampa on some sort of business, but I didn't realize that you really meant MacDill. We thought you were out of the military now." Then he took a long sip of coffee and peered at Carlos over the rim of his cup.

"Not … entirely," Carlos replied hesitantly as he placed his coffee cup back onto its saucer. He was silent for a moment and then he began to speak very slowly and carefully, "I … apologize, Uncle Marcos. Steph and I … we meant no offense. I truly had planned to call you and Aunt Maribel after we completed the most recent … phase … of our business over at MacDill. I just … didn't think that we would be very good company until a few more days had passed. It's been somewhat … difficult."

Hmm. As far as I was concerned, this was not good news. I hadn't realized that my grandson still had such strong ties to the military. I knew that many of the units which were stationed at MacDill AFB happened to be Special Forces. I didn't like the idea that Carlos was entangled with those organizations again. He never could talk about his past missions, but I know that he had escaped death many times. If Carlos was a cat, I'm sure that he would have used up all but the last of his nine lives by now. Perhaps this was the reason for Stephanie's pallor, too.

"It's okay, Carlos," I said. "I don't think I realized that you were coming here to go to the airbase. I thought you were just going to be in the city of Tampa, which is why I was upset about you leaving your uncle house and not contacting him for such a long period of time." Then I turned to Stephanie and said, "I am so sorry, Stephanie. Over the years, our family has become accustomed to not asking Carlos about his business on MacDill. We've accepted that we'll never know where he goes or what he does. I'm sure you'll get used to it soon enough." I patted her hand and … she broke into tears.

Carlos looked stricken and came around the table to comfort his wife. Nobody said anything as they excused themselves and went out to the veranda for a private conversation. When they returned to the sitting room, Marcos and Maribel and I behaved as though nothing had happened. Stephanie apologized for her outburst and then she accepted Maribel's offer for a walk in the front gardens. Marcos and I escorted Carlos into my son's private parlor to smoke cigars - and to talk.

**"So, Carlos,"** I began, switching back to Spanish, **"What is going on between you and Stephanie? When you left Miami, you both seemed very content. Why are you so unhappy now?"**

Carlos exhaled a thick plume of cigar smoke and shook his head. **"You both have had wives and daughters living under your roofs. I'm sure you've dealt with similar issues from time to time - every month, in fact."**

Marcos and I understood. Yes, we remembered the days of enduring monthly cycles of vastly swinging emotions with our womenfolk. Marcos had just survived Maribel's menopause the previous year, but it had been many years since I'd weathered such storms. Still, my heart went out to my grandson – obviously, he would have many more years of trying to be understanding and tender and loving toward his wife at these times. I felt guilty. Perhaps I shouldn't have insisted that Carlos and Stephanie come to dinner on this particular night and I told him so.

**"It's fine, Papí,"** Carlos shrugged. **"I'm pretty sure that today was her last day, but I didn't have a good date planned for tonight anyway, so it's just as well that we came here."

**"A good date?"** asked Marcos. **"Since when does a married man worry about good dates with his wife? You already won the prize, Carlos. You should relax and enjoy your victory!"**

Carlos looked embarrassed. **"Forget I said that. I don't want to talk about it."**

**"Oh, no, Nephew, you don't get off so easily,"** Marcos grinned lewdly at Carlos. **"Diego called me last week and he said that you and your lovely new wife could barely keep your hands off of each other when he flew you two down to Miami. He even told me about your initiation into the 'Mile High Club,' so now you have to explain this 'good date' stuff."**

I shook my head in disagreement with my son. **"Pay no attention to your fool of an uncle, Carlos. A good husband never stops dating his wife. But I would like for you to tell me more about the dates you've already taken Stephanie on since you've been here."** Then I grinned at my grandson to encourage him to begin talking.

Carlos hesitated and then he began to tell us about his adventures in Tampa. During his days, he had been working on some sort of recertification for jumping out of high-flying aircraft. I never could understand my grandson's enjoyment of the sport he called 'free-fall parachuting" any more than I could understand several of my sons' passions for flying various types of airplanes. I prefer being on the solid ground or the open ocean, but I'm happy to leave the skies to the birds.

Anyway, Carlos filled his nights with taking Stephanie out on nice dates practically every evening. Even though they seemed to be staying close to the airbase, they had eaten dinner at some of the nicest restaurants and bistros in Tampa. They had attended special evening programs at the aquarium and several art museums. They spent a full day at the Busch Gardens theme park and went on an evening safari. They laughed with the dressed-up "buccaneers" who "raided" the city during the annual Gasparilla Pirate Fest. Carlos had even taken his wife to a hockey game when her favorite team came to town. Actually, I was quite impressed with the variety of places that Carlos had taken his bride. Marcos, however, scoffed at Carlos' choices.

**"Those are teenager dates, Carlos! My grandsons can come up with better stuff than that!"** Marcos said. **"There was a full moon in the sky last week. You should have taken Stephanie for romantic walks in the moonlight. And dancing – you should have taken your sweetheart dancing, too. That always gets your passions up, right, Papa?"** My grandchildren and nieces and nephews usually call me Papí, but my children still call me Papa, of course.

**"Of course!"** I readily agreed with Marcos. **"You and Stephanie dance very well together, Carlos. Have you taken her out to some of the local clubs yet?"**

A muscle tightened in Carlos' jaw before he answered in a very tight voice, **"We went out on Valentine's Day, but I can't … we can't … do that sort of thing right now."**

**"Ridiculous!"** exclaimed Marcos. **"No wonder you're both so uptight. You just need to put a little salsa back in your step and that'll loosen things up a bit."** Then he swiveled his hips and leered at Carlos.

I nodded vigorously. **"Yes, of course! Take Stephanie out dancing again and then make love to her all night long. It will do you a world of good."**

Carlos angrily stubbed out his cigar and glared at us. Then he growled, **"I said I don't want to talk about it!"**

Obviously, it was time for me to have a little one-on-one chat with my grandson. I glanced at my son and nodded toward the door. Marcos graciously excused himself from the room. I waited until he closed the door behind him and then I stared into Carlos' stormy eyes until he blinked and turned his face away from me. It was a game I never lost; the others always blinked first.

**"I'm sorry, Papí,"** he said tiredly. **"I shouldn't have spoken to you and Uncle Marcos with such disrespect. I will apologize to him before I leave tonight."**

I nodded. **"That will be fine, my son. Now, tell me what's really going on between you and Stephanie."**

Carlos shook his head, but then he began to speak slowly again. **"I can't explain everything to you, Papí, but Stephanie and I are in a … a treatment program to … to deal with the effects from my post-traumatic stress. We've been living in a … special facility where the doctors may … observe our … interactions and we … we've been … abstaining … for almost two weeks now. We'll have to wait for … certain test results before we can … be together again. It should be over soon."**

My eyebrows lifted of their own accord and I asked, **"Abstaining?" From sex? You and Stephanie? But why would you do such a foolish thing? And I thought Stephanie said that you two were staying in a townhouse. What's going on, Carlos?"**

**"It's part of my treatment,"** he replied. **"And the special facility looks like a townhouse, but, well, I know we're being observed all the time."**

**"My son, why would you subject yourself and your lovely wife to such treatment?"** I asked.

Carlos sighed and explained, **"Papí, when I was still on active duty as an Army Ranger, I went on a dangerous mission that really messed up my head. I barely made it out alive, but … part of me has been, well, dead since then."**

**"But Carlos, I've seen you and Stephanie together and you're both very much alive,"** I protested. **"Whenever the two of you are together you practically ooze sensuality, whether you realize it or not. I've even overheard you making love to your wife when we were all aboard the Batcave."** His face reddened, so I quickly added, **"I didn't mean to hear you, but I had gone upstairs to talk to Túlio and when I passed by your cabin, well, all I can say as that you both sounded like everything was in great working order."**

My grandson shook his head again and explained, **"But I'm not completely healthy yet – not inside my head, anyway. Look, I really don't want to talk about this anymore. I think it's important that you know about my treatment and the real reasons Stephanie and I came down to Tampa. I trust that you will keep this to yourself, though. Honestly, Papí, I wasn't trying to be rude to Uncle Marcos and Aunt Maribel."**

I looked out of the window and gazed at the lights of the Batcave for a moment before I turned back to Carlos and said, **"I'm glad to hear that you're finally getting help for your messed up head, my son. That's very good. I've been worried about you for a long time, you know."**

Carlos glanced sharply at me and asked, **"You have?"**

**"Yes,"** I nodded. **"I figured your surliness and loneliness were a direct result of the things that you had seen and done during your military missions. We all remember how terrible you looked when you came back to be with your Abuela Blanca before she died. In fact, you looked like you had been to Hell twice over and had barely made it back alive. It was as though you should have been in a hospital bed yourself, but there you were, comforting your grandmother in her final moments. I was more worried about you than I was about her. She knew it was her time to go, but you –my God, Carlos, what a mess you were!"**

**"I didn't realize that you felt that way, Papí,"** Carlos said.

**"Carlos,"** I explained with as much gentleness as I could, **"Even though I respect your father Ricky very much, you must remember that I have been both your Papí and your Papa over the years. You grew into manhood under my roof. How could I not know more about you than you think I know? I'm just glad you're finally taking good care of yourself and that you now have such a wonderful woman by your side to help you."**

Carlos struggled to maintain control over his emotions. After a moment, he was able to speak again, but his voice was noticeably huskier. **"I don't like feeling weak. And I hate the fact that I need such help now. I … I'm sorry if I'm a disappointment you, Papí."**

**"Perish the thought, my son!"** I replied firmly. **"I've always been proud of you. You have served your country well and faithfully. You are a man of great strength and integrity. You have never been a disappointment to me or to this family. Never!"** Then I rose from my chair and hugged Carlos around his broad shoulders.

**"Thank you, Papí,"** Carlos rasped. **"That means a lot to me."**

I smiled and said, **"You probably don't remember, but I told both you and young Valentino a long time ago that real men are free to show their true emotions; they aren't afraid of what anybody else thinks of them. This is especially true of us Cubans. Yes, we are proud and obstinate, but we also long for freedom for our homeland. We've cried in anguish over the many losses, but we still hold our heads high and make the best of our current situations. I've always felt free to express my homesickness and frustrations and pain and yes, joy, in the music of the drums. Val told me that he feels free when he dances. You used to find freedom when you ran in your races, Carlos, but I think your military experiences caused you to lose your freedom for a long time. At least you now have chosen a mate who can help you find a new way to be free at last. Am I right?"**

**"Yes, Papí,"** Carlos nodded. **"I love Stephanie with everything that I am and everything that I'm trying to become. I just hope it's enough."**

I hugged him again and said, **"It will be, my son. It already is."** Then he stood up and gave me a proper hug.

**"Thank you, Papí,"** was all he said, but I knew he was really telling me, **"I love you, Papí."**

Holding Carlos at an arm's length I said, **"Come, let's go find your woman and we'll send you two off together. Perhaps you can return here after you and Stephanie have finished your … ah, treatment. I'll be staying here at Marcos' house until the end of April. Let me know if – no, when - you want to take the Batcave out fishing. In fact, you're more than welcome to come and stay aboard – after all, she's your boat, too. Besides, Túlio can hardly wait to cook for your lovely Stephanie again."** This made my grandson smile. And then we went out to find everyone else.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Spring: Ranger's POV

Dr. O'Neill pressed his lips together and Dr. Fiorelli gazed grimly at Stephanie and me through his thick, wire-rimmed glasses. It was the first day of April and we were well into our sixth week of couple's psychotherapy with Dr. Fiorelli. All throughout March we had given Dr. O'Neill sample after sample of our bodily fluids, but it had been a while since he had called us in to discuss our various test results. I was so tired of being poked and prodded and handled and talked to and talked about, that I was ready to punch the wall. There was a tense silence in the office while Stephanie and I waited for them to tell us the news – good or bad.

During our first few sessions with Dr. Fiorelli, Steph and I had filled out several questionnaires and surveys. The shrink now knew more about our intimate life than we probably knew ourselves – especially since we had to answer most of the questions separately and we weren't supposed to discuss our responses with each other. After several sessions, we began to understand all the psychology behind my negative reactions to Steph's lovemaking and we had discussed many possible strategies for dealing with my control issues, but we still hadn't gotten around to actually solving the problems. It nearly drove me crazy!

Honestly, the past month and a half had not been very pleasant. I don't know what I had expected after Steph and I abandoned the comfort and luxury of my Uncle Marcos' waterfront home and allowed Dr. Fiorelli to place us in a government hotel located on the airbase for almost two weeks, but it was worse than I had imagined it could be. Our hotel room was completely infested with surveillance "bugs." I hated knowing that every facet of our life was under constant observation. When the shrink relocated us into a nicely-appointed townhouse in a gated community not too far from the airbase, it didn't take me very long to discover that the new place was completely bugged, also.

At first, my Babe thought it was funny – like we were in a big, comfy, people-version of Rex's hamster habitat. In fact, she soon forgot that there were more cameras and microphones here than in any of the safe-houses that RangeMan owned. But I never forgot – and, as a result, I never fully relaxed. Steph and I were like lab rats and I was totally unnerved by the knowledge that our conversations and activities were being monitored and analyzed on a daily basis.

At the beginning of March, Dr, Fiorelli gave us a "homework assignment" of sorts. He told me to let Stephanie be the initiator of all our sexual encounters. I wasn't allowed to start anything or take control at all. Of course, this made my Babe extremely happy and for the first few days, she completely took advantage of the situation. On the one hand, this gave me new insight into what Steph really liked to do and I filed away plenty of mental notes for future use. On the other hand – and I'm not complaining, mind you - I found it very frustrating not to be in charge and there were a few times when I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Carlos," Steph whispered into my ear during one of my lapses.

"Mmm, Babe?" I murmured as I kissed and nibbled at the soft skin of her neck.

"I think you've done it again," she replied, barely containing a moan of satisfaction.

"Done what?" I asked and I continued to kiss my way down her body.

She gently pushed against my chest and sighed, "You've taken control, that's what. I'm supposed to be on top, remember?"

It took a moment for my Babe's words to register in my brain. Then I rolled both of us over on the bed and positioned her so that she was straddling me. "There!" I said triumphantly, "Now you're on top." And my fingers gently massaged and tweaked all the places where my lips had just been.

Steph glared down at me and replied in an almost cool tone, "Yes … but I don't think this should count because it still feels like you're in control here."

Truthfully, I was at a loss for words, but I managed to eke out a meaningful, "Babe."

Our almost-disagreement didn't prevent us from making love that night, but I knew that my Babe felt I had robbed her of control. The next few times, I struggled hard to make sure that I didn't take charge of the situation. Part of me really liked the way that Steph initiated and carried out our sex life. She really was amazing and she always made me feel like a king. Still, it was one of the most annoying weeks of my life. I didn't know then that there was something even worse soon to come after that.

The morning after the last day of "Stephanie-is-the-boss" week - and after more than a few intense counseling sessions on my control issues - Dr. Fiorelli called us into his office and said, "I know this past week was rather challenging for you Carlos, but now I want you two to abstain from sexual intercourse for the next seven days. I want you to just go out on dates this week - regular dates, like regular people who are just getting to know each other better. And don't fall into bed with each other at the end of the night. Here is a journal for each of you, in which I want you to record your feelings, frustrations, et cetera. You may resume normal relations after you complete this assignment."

I couldn't believe it! I had barely made it through our last "assignment" and now the shrink was asking me to do the nearly-impossible task of not making love to my Babe for the next week. I curled my lip at the spiral-bound notebook the doctor had offered to me. To hell with that! All week long, I had fantasized and plotted and planned the different ways that I was going to drive Steph wild once I was in charge again. I had no intention of writing down my fantasies – I wanted to live them. This part of our therapy was a load of crap! Thankfully, my Babe was thinking the same way that I was about it and she spoke up immediately.

"That doesn't make any sense, Dr. Fiorelli!" Stephanie protested. "Carlos and I just finished a week with me being in charge of our sex life. That was difficult enough for him to handle! I mean, I might be able to understand this abstinence scheme if we were still single or something, but we're married. And writing a bunch of stuff about our feelings is lame! Why should we do such a thing?"

The doctor remained infuriatingly calm and explained, "In this part of your therapy, you'll be denying each other something you clearly enjoy and desire the most in your relationship: physical intimacy. By recording your thoughts and feelings, you'll be able to reflect on what's really important in your relationship. When you're finally allowed to have intercourse again, the hope is that whatever control issues or psychological inhibitions Carlos may have about certain types of touches, his overwhelming need for you most likely will prevent him from having another negative episode associated with his PTSD. It'll only be for the next seven days; I'm sure you can do this."

Steph narrowed her eyes and said, "I hate to break this to you, doctor, but by the end of our assignment this week, my … … uh, my period will be here and, well, we usually don't have sex during that time, anyway. Why can't we delay this part of our therapy until I get my period– when it won't really matter all that much?"

The shrink considered this information and a faraway look settled on his face. "Hmm … two weeks. I don't believe any of my professional colleagues has ever asked a married couple to go without sex for that long," he said. "Carlos, Stephanie - I think you can do it. Yes! I want you two to just be friends with each other for the next two weeks. Not friends with benefits – just friends."

"Are you crazy?" exclaimed Stephanie. "Surely, you don't want us to go without sex for almost two weeks straight! Been there, done that, hated it. Doctor, Carlos and I were 'just friends' for a long time before we got married. And trust me; we didn't have very many 'benefits' for a really long time."

Dr. Fiorelli continued to grin as he looked down at his desk and paged through his notes. When he found what he was looking for, he glanced back up at us and said, "Um … that's not entirely true, Stephanie. According to the information you both gave me in our first few sessions, you both admitted that you were able to meet your sexual needs in other ways. You, Carlos, went for a very long time without actual intercourse. You utilized a tremendous amount of physical exercise and sometimes you took several cold showers a day in order to dampen your libido. And you, Stephanie, had an ongoing sexual relationship with another man."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Steph snapped. "In the end, I chose to be with Carlos and we're very happy with the way things are!"

"Good! Then you shouldn't have any problems going out on dates," said the doctor. "That part of your assignment is just as important as the abstinence."

I could almost see the angry steam flowing out of Steph's ears as she fumed, "All last week, when I was in charge of things, I don't think we went out on any dates and we were fine. Doctor, I'm not one of those high-maintenance women – dating was never really part of the equation between me and Carlos. I don't know whether it ever will be, either!"

Dr. Fiorelli silently glanced at both of us for a moment and then continued, "Be that as it may, the fact still remains that neither of you approached your current marriage relationship with much in the way of romance; therefore, you don't have much in the way of romantic memories to draw upon. There's no mention of candlelit dinners for two at a favorite restaurant or going out to see a show or even doing fun activities with other couples. Most of your so-called dates actually have been add-ons to your various work situations."

Sadly, that much was true. I didn't like what I'd just heard as the doctor described my relationship with Stephanie so far. I had taken advantage of every opportunity that I'd had with my Babe over the years – setting up for distraction jobs, getting cozy whenever we shared a bed for safety's sake, and all the stolen kisses during my times of weakness. Crap! The doctor's assessment was dead-on. Except for the few romance-filled days in Miami, right before we got married, most of the "so-called dates" I'd taken Steph on were somehow tied to work-related events. I understood that I needed to fix the situation ASAP.

Steph's temper was still boiling and she demanded answers. "What's so wrong about the way we've done things so far? Carlos and I worked together a lot before we got married. That's how we got to know each other so well. We still work together. We're partners. We're best friends. We're married! So what if we didn't really date? Seriously, I don't care about all that stuff!"

"Babe," I started to say something to calm her down, but Dr. Fiorelli interrupted me.

"Stephanie, Carlos, please hear me out," the shrink said patiently as he explained. "In positive-sensory-memory-replacement therapy, we have to build up layers of different memories for Carlos to draw upon when the two of you engage in certain sexual activities. Ever since he completed his solo sessions, we've been working on the things that trigger his negative memories. If the majority of his experiences with you, Stephanie, are work-related in any way, then specific types of physical contact may trigger another unpleasant episode of post-traumatic stress. I know you don't want that to keep happening, so you need to fix this issue – replace the bad memories with lots of good ones - before you move on to the next phase of treatment."

"But we've been on regular dates before, haven't we?" Stephanie asked as she turned toward me with a desperate look on her face. Obviously, she wasn't looking forward to taking cold showers for the next two weeks, either.

I covered her small white hand with my own large brown one and offered her the only solace I could think of at that moment. "Well, Babe, I've been meaning to show you more of Tampa, anyway. Now I won't have any excuse not to do it. Besides, as you already said, at least one of our abstinence weeks is during your period, when you'll barely let me touch you, anyway."

"Ugh! You're not supposed to agree with him!" She rolled her eyes and grunted, even as her face turned a bright pink.

Dr. Fiorelli smiled. "You'll just have to trust me on this. It's a very effective form of couple's therapy. In time, you two will thank me for 'prescribing' that you go out on a bunch of dates. You might be surprised at how things turn out after you've gone without sex for a while."

"I hate surprises! I hate writing stuff in journals! And I hate this therapy!" Steph growled at me. Then she turned toward Dr. Fiorelli and lashed out, "We're already living in this … this hotel facility of yours. Exactly how are we supposed to manage not having sex while we're living in such a small space together? Please don't tell me that you've booked us into separate rooms, either. I wouldn't be able to stand it!"

"Ah, yes, about your living arrangements," the doctor replied smoothly, "I took the liberty of asking if you two could stay at the private home of one of my associates, Dr. Sharon Lambert. She's a Navy doctor, currently deployed on a hospital ship in the Persian Gulf. My wife and I live in the same neighborhood. The townhouse has two bedrooms – each with its own separate bathroom. Dr. Lambert also works with PTSD patients and she gave us permission to house special guests there as needed. How does that sound?"

Even then, I thought it sounded too good to be true – too convenient, too contrived. I was sure that this new set-up would be just as "buggy" as our government hotel room had been, and I was right. It was impossible for me to voice my opinions without alerting the doctor that I was aware of his surveillance of us, but I nodded toward Stephanie to let her know that I was fine with the new arrangement. Still, she scowled at Dr. Fiorelli. My Babe was trying hard to think of a way out of this, but we both knew she'd never win a battle of wills with this military shrink. Finally, Steph grudgingly agreed to the doctor's offer.

"Good," Dr. Fiorelli nodded his approval. "Now that that's settled, let's get you moved in. This way, your two weeks of abstinence can begin immediately. Although there's no room service at the townhouse, there's plenty of food in the fridge and I think you'll really like the neighborhood."

That was how we ended up in the townhouse facility. Fortunately, Steph and I really did like the neighborhood. It was a gated community, just a few miles north of the airbase, and there were plenty of amenities. I was happy about the small weight room and the running trails and Steph was overjoyed about the comfortable lounge chairs around the community swimming pool. Even though I'd quickly have to come up with plans for some good "platonic" dates, I knew that it would be best for my Babe and me to spend a lot of time apart. So, for the next two weeks, I worked on improving my five-mile run times and Steph continued to work on her tan.

The townhouse was nicely decorated in typical Florida style with lots of pastel colors and tropical floral patterns. There was a one-car garage and a den on the ground level. The kitchen and living room, as well as a small study and powder room, were on the next level up the stairs. Two large bedrooms, each with its own full bathroom and walk-in closet, occupied the top level. Everything felt very girly, but I knew I would be able to survive it. Actually, our stay wouldn't have been so terrible if the whole place hadn't been infested with tiny, mostly-hidden surveillance cameras and microphones.

Of course, we figured out pretty quickly that the constant monitoring wreaked havoc on my sense of well-being. I hated knowing that the doctor was observing everything we did and everything we said while we were inside the bugged townhouse. Then, while I was out running on the jogging path one morning, I spotted a small camera attached to a tree branch and it occurred to me that there probably was surveillance equipment all around this supposed neighborhood. I began to despise our situation and my foul moods reflected that.

The first week of abstinence was sheer torture. I eventually ended up spending most of every day at the airbase, working on my recertification as a military free-fall instructor, as well as doing extreme physical workouts so that I would be too tired for sex after our dates. Yeah, right. Every evening, I took my Babe out to a different restaurant or location and I guess she had a lot of fun. It took every shred of concentration I possessed to focus only on Steph's nose or the top of her head or her fingernails. If I looked anywhere else on her body, especially into her beautiful blue eyes, the pain of denying myself was almost too much to bear. Returning to my old habit of taking cold showers was pure hell.

It came as no surprise that my Babe's period arrived right on schedule. Unfortunately, on the next-to-the-last day of her cycle, my grandfather, Papí Súarez called me on my cell phone and chewed me out for not being at my Uncle Marcos' house when he arrived there for a visit. Then he demanded that Steph and I come to dinner that evening. It was a very tense time. Overall, I had almost convinced myself that we were doing okay. That is, until Uncle Marcos asked Steph some stupid questions about what would happen when she and I had children, as well as her new life married to a man with lots of secrets, and she broke down, crying pitifully.

Steph was was completely overcome by her emotions. Apparently, the two-week abstinence, as well as her period, had worn down her last nerve, too, and she just couldn't control herself any longer. Aunt Maribel took Steph out into the gardens for some fresh air and I went with my uncle and grandfather for a little chat. I usually try not to give in to the urge to smoke, but this was an emergency and I accepted the top-quality Cuban cigar with gratitude. Of course, I couldn't tell them about any of my real problems, but when I did confide that it was Steph's "time of the month" they became quite sympathetic toward me.

The fine cigar from my uncle's private stock did wonders for my attitude, but eventually, I ended up speaking to my grandfather alone. After our private conversation, I felt much better than I had in a long time. The rich tobacco had a calming effect on me; suddenly, I was able to remember that life with my Babe was good and it was looking even better by the minute! I almost began to look forward to our next appointment with Dr. Fiorelli, when I expected that he would tell us to resume our normal sexual routines. It took another surge of extreme willpower for me to turn down my uncle's offer of a few spare cigars.

"Well, Stephanie, you are looking much better now," Uncle Marcos remarked when the women returned from their walk in the gardens. "I suppose Maribel lifted your spirits by showing you all of her recent replanting efforts. Every time I turn around, something is in a different place in the garden. Hopefully, she will leave everything alone until after our granddaughter's quinceañero party."He laughed and, to my surprise, Aunt Maribel laughed with him.

"Change is the spice of life," she declared. "I know my Marcos likes it when I shake things up a bit around here. It's not as though he really cares whether I plant another row of red or white flowers on this side or that side of the garden. He just knows that changing things around makes me very, very happy." Her smile was genuine – and surprisingly flirtatious.

Then Uncle Marcos grabbed his wife around her tiny waist – she appeared to be in excellent physical condition – and he held her tightly against him, kissing her soundly and deeply, right in front of us. Dios! I could feel the waves of passion rolling off of them and I lusted after my Babe more than ever. When did all the older people in my family become so outwardly flirtatious? Their wanton ways were killing me!

When Uncle Marcos finally broke off the kiss, he winked at us and said, "A long time ago, I learned that when my Maribel is very, very happy, I get to be very, very happy, too. Right, Papa? Isn't that what you always taught us? 'Keep your wife happy and your life will be so much easier to handle.' That's what you used to tell us boys."

"Ah, young love. It is almost too beautiful to watch," Papí said in a dreamy voice. Then he suddenly announced to all of us, "It is time for me to retire for the evening, my children. Stephanie and Carlos, I look forward to seeing you again very soon, whenever you have time to drop by. Marcos and Maribel, try not to make too much noise tonight, all right? An old man like me needs peace and quiet in order to get a good night's rest."

Uncle Marcos grinned slyly and said, "If you want peace and quiet, old man, get back on your boat."

"Ah, such rudeness!" Papí shook his head in mock sorrow. "I don't know where I went wrong with my sons. Back in my day-"

"Back in your day," Uncle Marcos interrupted with a bark of laughter, "You and Mami were never very quiet, either!"

Papí feigned shock and placed his hand over his heart. Then he grinned at us and said, "On that note, I shall prepare to dream of my sweet, innocent Blanca all night long. If you hear noises coming from my bedroom, please don't wake me. My dreams are the only time I get to see her anymore." And with that, he jauntily saluted us and strolled down the hallway toward the guest suite where he was staying.

I turned to my aunt and uncle and thanked them for the nice evening. "I promise we'll visit again before we leave town, Uncle Marcos."

Aunt Maribel answered, "You know that you're always welcome to stay with us again, if – and when – you choose to do so."

"Thank you," I said.

"Yes, thank you very much," added Steph. "I'd love to stay here with you again." And I realized that she really meant it. Both of us were tired of being under Dr. Fiorelli's watchful ears and eyes.

After we said our farewells, I ushered my Babe out of the front door and back to our borrowed car. She was silent during the short drive back to the townhouse. After I parked the car in the garage and we trudged up the two flights of stairs to go to our separate bedrooms, we both turned toward each other and gazed longingly at each other. Our routine for the past thirteen days had been that we kissed goodnight in the hallway and then quickly disappeared into our rooms before anything more could happen. The expression on Steph's face mirrored my feelings exactly.

"Ranger," she quietly rasped, "I know that Dr. Fiorelli will know whether or not we've cheated and slept together. But, at this point, I simply don't care. I just need to fall asleep in your arms again – no sex involved."

Nodding slowly, I murmured, "We've certainly done that before."

"Lots of times," she smiled wistfully. "Too many times."

"Way too many times," I agreed. And then I clamped down hard on my emotions. I would not fail to complete my mission here. "But we've almost made it the whole two weeks, Babe. I think we've had a lot of … ah, close calls during our friendly dates. At this point – period or no period - I don't think I could be in the same bed with you and not rip your clothes off. It's only one more day, Steph. Let's just go our separate ways tonight. I'm going to take my cold shower now. I suggest you do the same." Crap! I was babbling. I never babble!

It was a good thing that Dr. Fiorelli prescribed only two weeks of "platonic dating" and sexual abstinence for me and Steph. I thought I was going to go stark raving mad! I mean, it's one thing to want something that's mostly forbidden – like when I lusted after my Babe while she was still dating Morelli. But it's an entirely different thing to want something that's totally yours already – like your wife – and not be allowed to have her, even if she's standing right in front of you, or worse, sleeping in a bed across the hall.

Knowing that I had to remove myself from my Babe's intoxicating presence ASAP, I kissed the tip of her cute little nose and quickly disappeared behind the door to my bedroom. Then I locked the door behind me before I could change my mind. Sadly, the cold shower did absolutely nothing to dampen my libido and my dreams were filled with visions of my naked Babe. Damn! This part of our therapy truly sucked!

Two days later, as we sat in the living room of the townhouse, Dr. Fiorelli congratulated us on being the only married couple in his care ever to complete not just one, but two full weeks of abstinence – everyone else had cheated along the way. Somehow, this was not encouraging news for me. For most of my life, I had been somewhat of a rule-breaker. Now I felt like a complete fool – or worse, a naïve jerk – for following the rules this time and depriving myself and my Babe of the physical closeness we craved.

The shrink had arrived on our doorstep while we were finishing our breakfast of toasted bagels with cream cheese and fresh fruit, as well as the handfuls of special vitamins that Dr. O'Neill had prescribed for us to take every morning. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Dr. Fiorelli must have been listening for the right moment to ring the doorbell. He grinned at us when he presented us with a box of condoms and announced that our time of abstinence was over. Then he gave us specific instructions to go upstairs immediately, where Steph should to attempt to make love to me with her hands and mouth again. He would be on stand-by to help us if things went bad.

Needless to say, Steph and I practically flew up the stairs and into my bedroom. We quickly decided to go into the shower, where there weren't any tiny cameras - and the nearest listening device was located within the medicine cabinet. Steph and I both lathered up and when we were clean, she crouched down in front of me, wrapped her harms around my legs to steady herself, and loved me like I'd never been loved before. This time, I didn't think about El Lagarto or his filthy hands and mouth. All my thoughts were only of my Babe, giving me a precious gift.

Good thing I no longer cared about my dignity in this ordeal. I was so happy; I think I might have cried, so I was glad we were in the shower. It didn't matter to me what the doctor might have heard while he waited for us downstairs, but as soon as I was able, I took control of the situation and made love to Stephanie until the water began to run cold. Our personal body heat was enough to keep us warm, anyway. It just felt so good to be totally united with my Babe again. Inside my head, I secretly vowed never to agree to go without sex ever again – unless, of course, it was for Steph's health and welfare.

We took our sweet time drying off and getting dressed. Thankfully, we had discovered that there weren't any cameras in the walk-in closets, either so we were safe from direct observation for several minutes while we had another quickie between the racks of clothes. I was sorely tempted to toss my Babe onto the bed and go for a round of comfortable lovemaking, but I knew that Steph would consider it rude of us to keep the doctor waiting any longer. To his credit, Dr. Fiorelli didn't make any snide or crude comments about our activities when we finally returned to the living room.

"That seems to have gone very well," remarked the doctor.

I couldn't take it anymore and I snapped, "Have you enjoyed listening in our private lives, Dr. Fiorelli?"

The corners of his mouth turned upward and he replied, "It's all in a day's work. Besides, Carlos, we both know that you've been able to compensate for all the surveillance equipment and carve out some privacy. I'm not surprised, though, especially given your line of work."

I scowled at him and said, "I already checked the county property records, so I know this place really belongs to a Dr. Sharon Lambert – on paper, that is. But I'll eat my Navy SEALS cap if this is her actual home. No one could live in a place with this many 'bugs' installed!"

Dr. Fiorelli grinned and said, "Your cap is safe for another day. And you're right, Carlos. This place truly does belong to my good friend and co-worker, Dr. Lambert. She's a behavioral scientist and she uses the house primarily as a research facility to study human interactions. In fact, Sharon's not actually deployed at this time."

"Surprise, surprise," I remarked dryly.

Dr. Fiorelli continued, "Actually, Dr. Lambert has been the main observer during your stay and she'll be here within the hour to speak with you two. She's working on her second doctoral degree, focusing on the physiological and psychological effects of short-term sexual abstinence between married couples."

"Short term?" I scoffed. Anger and annoyance welled up inside of me, but it was Stephanie who really voiced our concerns.

"Hey!" Steph protested, "I don't recall signing up for any type of friggin' behavioral whatever research project, Dr. Fiorelli," she said.

He smiled blandly at us and replied, "I assure you that you did, Stephanie. The release form was among the documents you signed when you first came to my office. I'll be happy to show you your signature, if you like."

"Hmph!" Steph sniffed. "How was I supposed to know? There were tons of papers in that pile and you know it! I guess you shrinks think you're so smart with all your hidden cameras and stuff. Well, I'll tell you right now: I'm never signing anything ever again unless our lawyer has read it first." Then she turned to me and asked, "We do have a lawyer, don't we, Carlos?"

"Babe," was all I could say. As a soldier first and then as a government employee, I had given up most of my expectations of privacy long ago.

"It's all for the best, Stephanie," Dr. Fiorelli's voice sounded reassuring again. "I know that, based on our observations and the data we've collected here this month, we will be able to help many other couples. Don't you think that's worth all the effort? In fact, your participation in this effort is highly likely to become the foundation of some very important future therapies."

The shrink didn't bat an eye when I told him what he could do with that particular piece of news, nor did he protest when I informed him that Stephanie and I would be moving into a hotel for the next few days. He merely explained that he believed our recent sexual success that morning had been due to the closeness – and yes, the desperation - we had developed while we spent purely platonic time together. He also complimented us on the tremendous progress we had made in our counseling sessions. I just wanted it all to be over and I told him so.

"The bottom line is this," he explained, "I think you'll only need to see me once every other week for the next four weeks, and then, two weeks after that, we'll probably need only one or two more sessions to wrap up everything. Of course, there are a few more surveys to fill out and I'm sure that Dr. Lambert will want to interview you a few times, too. Depending on how things proceed from this day forward, I predict that I'll be able to release you from my care sometime between the middle and the end of May. Ah, here's Dr. Lambert now." And we all turned toward the foyer as a woman entered through the unlocked front door.

Dr. Sharon Lambert was a tall, sharp-looking, professional Navy officer, with short, mousy brown hair and gray-green hazel eyes. She introduced herself and thanked us for our participation in her behavioral study. Apparently, her so-called home was also equipped with a large number of specialized sensors, which had picked up all sorts of biofeedback from us. Steph and I had provided her with a wealth of information. Obviously, the woman was single, and I felt sorry for any poor sap she might invite into her house/research facility for a nightcap.

During our brief meeting with Dr. Lambert, she assured us that only she had access to the recordings of our interactions and that, in accordance with the documents we already had signed, those recordings would be destroyed by the end of the calendar year. This would give her the opportunity to write up her report and publish her findings. We grudgingly agreed to meet with her again at her office the following week. Finally, we returned her house keys and left the condo complex as quickly as possible.

Steph and I certainly made up for lost time. We loaded our luggage and assorted junk into our borrowed cars and drove into downtown Tampa, where I had made reservations at the Westin, which overlooked the harbor. We didn't leave our hotel room for two whole days. When we finally emerged, we made love in the car, on the beach and pretty much anywhere else that I could be sure the place wasn't bugged. Once we got the first few lusty days out of our system, we moved back into my Uncle Marcos' guest house, which made everyone very happy, especially Papí, with whom we were able to join on a few weekend fishing trips aboard the Batcave.

Although we had made progress on the psychological front, it was more difficult to determine whether or not I'd had much success on the physiological front – especially during our two-week's time of abstinence. Actually, I was beginning to feel a bit sluggish. Since I didn't have any of my regular RangeMan sparring partners here in Tampa, I had to settle for working out with whoever was at the gym on any given day. Nevertheless, I followed Doc O'Neill's orders and I made sure that Steph did, too. Dios! This wasn't easy.

While I continued to follow the specific diet that Dr. O'Neill had prescribed for me, Stephanie continued to cheat on her recommended diet. In all fairness, between all of our restaurant dates, my uncle's cook and my grandfather's chef, my Babe was very well-fed. When I discreetly rubbed my thumbs over her slightly-developing "love handles" one night, she suddenly began to follow her diet more faithfully. She even ate all of her vegetables and fruits! And as much as my Babe hated to exercise, she obviously loved me more, and so she was able to get into the best shape she'd ever been in her entire life.

Therefore, on that first day of April, after everything Stephanie and I had endured and accomplished, it was with almost as much dread as anticipation that we waited to receive the news from Dr. O'Neill. As usual, I had already collected and turned in that morning's body fluid samples and now we were waiting to see the results. Deep down inside, I honestly felt that a real man should be able to father a child, and if my body couldn't do that, then I would burn with shame forever. It didn't matter that I already had fathered Julie. It didn't even matter that Steph and I weren't ready to be parents yet. I only knew that I wouldn't be happy if it turned out that we still weren't able to be parents.

Also, I was afraid that, despite all the psychotherapy sessions, all the exercise programs, all the specialized diet food and vitamins, and all the pineapple everything, perhaps nothing had worked. What if my sperm count had essentially remained the same as when we had arrived in Tampa – that is, nonexistent? How could I return to my men – the ones who knew about my condition - and look them in the eye, knowing that they would forever pity me for being less of a man than they were? I felt my Babe thread her fingers through mine in a gesture of reassurance as she moved closer to me on the sofa in front of Doc O'Neill's desk.

I noticed the worried look in both of the doctors' eyes as they glanced at each other. Dr. Fiorelli usually didn't intrude upon our visits with Dr. O'Neill, so I figured the news must not be good. Their faces remained ominously glum as Doc O'Neill pushed a lab report across the desk toward me and gestured for me to read it for myself. I scanned the numbers on the page once, twice, three times and again. I couldn't believe my eyes! The latest test results clearly showed that my sperm count was barely within the normal range, but it was normal.

"Is this a joke?" I asked. "Are you sure these test results are accurate? I mean, you both looked like you were bracing yourselves to deliver bad news to us this afternoon."

Dr. O'Neill smiled sheepishly and announced, "April Fools!" Then he shrugged apologetically and said. "I apologize, Carlos, but my comedian of a colleague here tried to badger me into giving you a false bad report first. Of course, I refused to participate in such a tactless joke." He glowered at Dr. Fiorelli and then he turned back toward us. "Nevertheless, I did agree to put on a somber expression until after you'd had a chance to look at the results for yourselves."

I pointed to the paper and asked, "So … this isn't a joke? This is the real deal?"

"Absolutely," Doc O'Neill nodded, his grin widening with every moment that passed, "Congratulations to both of you! Yes, your sperm count is on the low side of normal and the swimmers still appear to be a little sluggish, but they're there in force now and I'm sure they'll find their target someday."

Dr. Fiorelli grinned at us and said, "I sure hope you've been using that big box of condoms I gave you last week."

Steph nearly crushed my hand as her grip tightened and she exclaimed, "Wait! What's the date on those test results?"

"Oh, sometime last week," Doc O'Neill replied before I could look down at the date on the report. "Why?"

The color drained from my Babe's face and I suddenly felt a buzzing sound in my head as I tried to process this unwelcome revelation. I know it was stupid of me, especially because I really wanted to be able to father children again, but I felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down my spine. Of course Steph and I hadn't used any of the condoms. We never used condoms. The box that Dr. Fiorelli had given to us was still unopened and I had shoved into the bottom of one of my suitcases.

Obviously, both Dr. O'Neill and Dr. Fiorelli understood the implications of our facial expressions. They waited a few moments and then I glanced down at the paper. My eyes narrowed and I glanced up just in time to see the smirk on the shrink's face. Steph noticed my silent stand-off with him. Then she took a closer look at the date of the test and saw that we had been misled. Much to my Babe's relief – and mine, too, I must admit - the results were from the samples I had collected and given to the lab earlier that morning.

After Steph looked up from the lab report, she said dryly, "Let me guess-"

And then she and I and both doctors all exclaimed in unison, "April Fools!"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Summer: Julie's POV

This year I had, like, the best spring break ever! My family got to go to Tampa for, like, almost the whole week. First we all went to Busch Gardens for a couple of days. My biological dad – Ranger - and his wife Stephanie even joined us for an evening safari tour there. Then we stayed at, like, a really nice hotel downtown for a few days and went on a bunch of day trips, including to, like, St. Petersburg to go to the beach. It was my first trip to a Gulf Coast beach and it was, like, so cool! And right before we returned to Miami, we went to a quinceañero party for one of the many cousins I never knew I had.

Professional counseling has really helped my mom out, like, a whole lot and I'm real glad I called Ranger for his help in making it happen. Ever since that time when he and Stephanie talked to my mom, she's been, like, letting me and my brother and sister do some of the things we used to do. We still can't play on our old soccer teams like we did before and all, but my sister and I are taking dance classes again. My brother is taking guitar lessons, too. Mom seems to be okay with us doing stuff outside of our house now – just as long as it's, like, indoor stuff. Sounds weird, but trust me, my life doesn't suck nearly as much as it used to.

This year is definitely much better than last year. I could hardly believe it when Mom and Dad announced that we were, like, actually going to take a trip during our spring break. I know it's only because the family counselor told them to do it, but that's okay by me. And I overheard my parents discussing the possibility of me, like, going up to New Jersey for two weeks this summer to visit with Ranger and Stephanie. I'm not going to get my hopes up too high, but that would be the very best!

You see, there was, like, this weird thing that happened at my school earlier this year. I'm in sixth grade and all the girls in my class have been drooling over this really cute boy named Ricky Gonzalez. He didn't go to the same elementary school as me and we didn't have any classes together, but my best friend noticed that Ricky kept, like, staring at me whenever we passed each other in the hallway and I got all excited. Finally, I got up the nerve to talk to him by the water fountain and that's when the weird thing happened that freaked out my parents and, like, everybody else.

"Hi, my name is Julie Martine," I introduced myself. "I've noticed you … um, like, staring at me."

He smiled this totally gorgeous smile at me and said, "Yeah, I've been trying to meet you, Rachel. My name's Ricky Gonzalez." My insides melted and then it was like he dropped a bomb on me when he said, "We're cousins."

"W-w-wait!" I stammered like an idiot. "We're w-w-what?"

"Cousins, chica," Ricky repeated. "Long story short, your dad – your real dad, Carlos Mañoso – is first cousins with my dad, Pedro Gonzalez. They have the same grandfather, Papí Suarez, which means that we have the same great-grandfather, too. My dad and Papí told me that they met you at your father's wedding reception back in November. Cool, huh?"

Not cool. "H-how did you know about my real father?" I asked.

Ricky stared at me in disbelief and replied in a quiet voice, "My dad told me. And it was all in the newspapers last year. I'm glad your father and your new stepmother were able to rescue you from that whacked-out kidnapper dude, even though you were the one who had to do the shooting. We heard that things were pretty rough for you for a while."

Now I was, like, really confused. The details about me shooting Edward Scrog had never been released to the public. There was no way that some cute guy in my middle school should have known about all this. I was getting, like, seriously freaked out.

"We? Who is 'we' and how did you know that?" I demanded from Ricky and his face turned serious.

"Our family," he replied as though I ought to, like, know about this. "My dad and your dad have a security business called RangeMan - they're business partners. They even partly own one of the hottest clubs in South Beach with some other Súarez cousins. You ever heard of 'Caliente!'? I take tumba lessons from Papí Súarez there."

I shook my head in disbelief and asked, "How exactly are we related again?"

Ricky smiled again and explained, "My Abuela Margarita and your Abuela Gloria are sisters. All of their brothers have the last name of Súarez – you know, like Súarez Euro Motorcars with five locations in the state of Florida and New York? I'm sure you've seen the ads on TV. Those are our relatives. Both Elias Jimenez-Súarez and Yasmin Súarez in the eighth grade are our cousins, too. But don't expect them to talk to us lowly sixth-graders. Elias takes tumba lessons with me and he still treats me like I'm some random little kid whenever he sees me."

My connection to this well-known, wealthy family, as well as to some of the most popular kids in my school was definitely news to me. I was, like, totally blown away by everything that Ricky had told me. We exchanged home phone numbers, since, like, neither of us had our own cell phones yet, and I hurried off to my next class. When my mom picked me up from school that afternoon and I told her all about meeting my cousin, she, like, nearly swerved off the road. She made me wait until we were almost home before she began to explain.

"Sweetheart," Mom began – she always called me that when we were going to have, like, a serious talk, "I always meant to tell you about … about how large Ranger's family is. You met a lot of them in New Jersey last year after the … the incident, but there are many more relatives down here in Florida. It's just that their names aren't Mañoso; they're mostly members of the Súarez family. In fact, you met some of them, as well as your great-grandfather, Papí Suarez, at Ranger and Stephanie's wedding, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" I exclaimed. "But how come nobody ever told me that I'm actually related to the cutest boy in my whole class? What if we had really started to … um … like each other … or something? That would've been, like, so gross!"

"Wait a minute!" Mom said as she pulled the car into our driveway. "Are you really upset over a … a boy? Julie, you're much too young to worry about boys right now!"

"It's not just that, Mom," I tried to keep the whininess out of my voice, but it was too hard. "It's the whole thing of, like, not knowing much about the rest of my family. I want to know – no, I need to know – who these people are!"

Mom sighed and nodded. "I'll make some calls. Next time Ranger is in town, maybe he can take you to meet some more of his relatives. They're everywhere – you'll see."

So, when we got to Tampa for our spring break and found out about this cousin who was having her quinceañero party, my parents decided that it would, like, be alright if we went to it – especially because I'd be able to meet more of my cousins. First, though, Stephanie took me and my mom and my sister shopping for something real nice to wear to the party. In the few months that she and Ranger had been staying in Tampa, Stephanie really had learned her way around the city. All of us were able to find pretty dresses – mine was turquoise blue with a wide white belt around the middle - and Stephanie insisted that we, like, let her pay for everything.

This might sound lame, but that evening, I decided that I loved watching my parents dance – that's right, all of my parents. My mom and dad have always been silly – salsa dancing around the kitchen and the living room at home. What can I say? They live to embarrass me! But this was, like, only the second time I had seen the Dynamic Duo dancing and they looked so happy together. I know it's corny, but they really are sort of like Batman and Robin. No, wait, that's not right. Stephanie's way more like Wonder Woman!

During the party, Ranger took the time to introduce us to, like, everyone who was related to me. The quinceañera, my cousin Blanca Rose, was very nice to me. She's very pretty and lots of people said that I looked a lot like her, which made me feel glad. Her grandparents – who are also Ranger's Uncle Marcos and Aunt Maribel – hosted the party in their backyard. They're, like, super rich and live in a huge house on the bay. My great-grandfather was actually staying on a big boat that was tied up to the private pier beyond Uncle Marcos' backyard. Now that was way cool!

"Julie, you must come out to South Beach to visit me sometime," Papí insisted. "I understand his reasons, but Carlos has kept you away from us for far too long." Then he bent down and whispered in my ear, "I might even teach you how to play the tumbas, eh?"

I agreed with my great-grandfather and I vowed that – whether they wanted to or not – both my parents and Ranger were going to have to let me, like, meet the rest of my relatives and let me spend more time with them. Of course, I'll always be a Martine, because my dad chose to adopt me, but my true Cuban blood comes from two very interesting families and, like, I was way past due for learning about my father's people. It was going to be a great summer. I was definitely going to make sure of that!

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Summer: Stephanie's POV

At the end of May, during a Memorial Day picnic at MacDill AFB, Ranger had taken me to a special performance of the Para-Commandos. These guys were all military free-fall parachutists and it was very inspiring to watch them drift down through the air and land on their designated targets on the sandy beach. It was so inspiring, in fact, that I immediately renewed my desire to do what they were doing.

"I want to do that!" I exclaimed as I watched one of the parachutists land. He was carrying an American flag, which he eventually gave to one of the little girls in the applauding crowd of onlookers.

Ranger glanced at me and asked, "When, Babe?"

"Right now," I answered.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked. "I have friends in … high places. Just say the word and I'll get your knees in the breeze ASAP."

My mouth dropped open and then I said, "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "I've been recertified as an instructor, so I can take you on a tandem jump – that's the one where you'll be tethered to a harness in front of my chest and we'll land together. We can go up at any time. In fact, we'd better do it soon because we're due back in Trenton by the end of the week."

And so we went sky-diving the next day. Ranger took me out to a private airfield, where he had some former military friends who ran a skydiving school. I went through an hour of instruction with both Ranger and the head instructor – who was also the pilot – and then we took off. I was very nervous the first time we flew, but falling through the air was such an awesome feeling that I had to go up again right away.

"Green light," yelled one of the junior skydiving instructors, the one who was acting as our jumpmaster that morning. "Go!"

After a terrifying moment of staring out at swiftly-passing clouds, I nodded to Ranger and we hurled ourselves out of the small aircraft and into the cold atmosphere. Woo hoo! I felt completely free as we dropped through the clouds together and I saw the tiny features of the landscape far below us. I was flying – really flying this time! Both Ranger and I had our arms stretched out as we completed our second tandem sky diving jump of the day. There we were – Wonder Woman and Batman – flying through the air with the greatest of ease. It was phenomenal!

While we continued our rapid descent, another skydiver with a camera mounted to his helmet took loads of photos of our adventure. Ranger let me pull the ripcord and our parachute whisked us upward before we began to drift downward again. I hated to see the ground as it appeared to rise up to meet us, but Ranger controlled our landing and there weren't any problems at all. After three more tandem jumps, we decided not to press our luck and called it a day. My adrenaline level remained so high that we had some of the best sex ever. Who knew that skydiving would bring out the "wild woman" in me?

So that's how we ended our time in Tampa. I, Stephanie Plum, had finally achieved one of my life-long dreams: I had flown! And it was Ranger – my Batman – who had given me my wings. Over dinner that night, he reminded me about his Christmas gift to me of skydiving lessons, which were waiting for me back in New Jersey. I could hardly wait to get back home and get my "knees in the breeze" again.

Unfortunately, it would be quite a while before I'd be able "fly" again. There were several major events we would have to deal with once we returned to New Jersey and they promised to consume all of my spare time. The first major event was the trial of Roberto Galarza, Jr., which was scheduled to take place in Atlantic City during the middle of June. The second event was Connie and Vince's wedding, which was scheduled to take place down at Cape May at the end of June. The third major event was Julie's visit, which was scheduled for early July. The fourth major event was Joe Morelli's wedding, which was scheduled for the middle of July. And then there was my sister Valerie's newest baby. She was due sometime in June or July, but who knew when a baby would decide to arrive? Honestly, I should have known that the skydiving would turn out to be the only easy thing that happened during that summer.

After we left Tampa, Ranger and I visited Miami for a few days. Julie had begged Ranger to give her a tour of the RangeMan offices on Biscayne Boulevard. Rachel reluctantly approved the "field trip" and while Julie was in the building, we received word that Juanita had gone into early labor. We took the girl with us to the hospital and she got to meet little Silvio Junior moments after we were allowed to visit with the proud parents. Needless to say, Rachel wasn't happy with us when we returned Julie to her home much later than expected. She even threatened to reconsider allowing her daughter to visit us in Trenton in July. This made Ranger very angry, but he didn't say anything for fear of endangering Julie's trip.

Ella was ecstatic to see us return to the seventh floor apartment of the Haywood building. Everything was just as I remembered it, only better. Of course, Ranger and I had to "rechristen" each room and we had a lot of fun making love in a variety of places. I went to my regular doctor as soon as I could and requested a prescription for the Pill. I didn't really want to hassle with it, but I knew that Ranger despised having to use condoms again. We hadn't really discussed it, but neither of us was ready to try our luck without any means of contraceptives.

My mother zeroed in on me as soon as I parked my silver Cayenne in front of her house. First of all, she wanted to know when I planned on getting pregnant. I took too long to answer that question, so she moved on to ask me if I could at least make myself useful and go to the airport for her that afternoon. Grandma Mazur wanted to be in town when Valerie's new baby arrived, so she and Bruno had made plans to travel to Trenton while they were on their way to his family's beach house on Martha's Vineyard. My mother didn't want to be away from the Burg for very long, in case Valerie went into labor – especially since Albert wasn't exactly reliable in emergency situations.

Although I had just visited Bruno and Grandma's house in Coral Gables, it was good to see them again in Trenton. They were such a cute couple! Much to my father's relief, I settled them into my old apartment and they fit right in with the other senior citizens who lived in the building. I had dropped off an entire case of Dillon's favorite beer and the maintenance man - who was very glad to see me again – promised to take good care of my grandmother and her husband. And he did.

Everyone had a pleasant dinner at my parents' house that evening, even if Val's kids made a terrible mess. I was just thankful that no mashed potatoes ended up in Ranger's hair. That honor completely belonged to me. Honestly, the more time I spent around actual children, the less I daydreamed about my "someday" children with Ranger. I became extremely diligent about taking my Pill. No way was I ready to jump aboard the motherhood train!

Naturally, Valerie went into labor during the second day of Galarza's trial. Galarza's goons had already gone to jail and they had ratted on their low-life boss immediately. Ranger still couldn't believe that those idiots had tried to abduct me at the hotel on New Year's Eve, but he was glad that their cooperation had led to Galarza's quick capture. While we were still in Tampa, Tank had kept us up-to-date with all the trial preparations and we were ready for our days in court. He even made reservations for Ranger and me – and him and Lula – to stay at a very nice bed-and-breakfast place on the beach.

I had already given my testimony when I got the message that my sister had gone to the hospital, so Lula and I left Ranger and Tank in the courtroom. He sent Bobby with us. I was resigned to the fact that that unless I requested some alone time, I'd always have a RangeMan escort whenever Ranger himself wasn't able to be by my side. By the time we arrived at the hospital, Val had delivered a healthy, eight-and-a-half-pound baby boy. Newborn Francis Albert Kloughn was my parents' first grandson and they were ecstatic!

I was happy, too, of course. Now that Valerie had succeeded in giving my father his fondest desire – a male grandchild - I knew that the pressure was off of me to produce one for him. Upon seeing my father's elated face, though, I almost felt like I should try to get pregnant with a boy right away, just to make him proud of me, too. I knew I was being irrational, but I felt slightly jealous that, once again, my older sister had accomplished a feat that I'd never be able to duplicate or outshine. There would only ever be one first grandson, and Little Frankie – as they had decided to call him - was it.

Then I had a sudden flash of insight. There was no need for me to be jealous of Valerie or insecure about my life anymore. I was married to an awesome man who loved me for who I am and he was someone both of my parents could stand. I now had plenty of money and lived in a very nice, secure place. I even had a sweetheart of a stepdaughter, as well as a loyal and long-lived hamster. I realized that my mother might never stop pestering me about giving her more grandkids, but now that my father had a grandson, he wouldn't be bothering me anymore. It felt like a ten-ton weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and I could hardly wait to tell Ranger. If we decided to have children of our own someday, then maybe we'd have them. Until that time … well, I was free!

It was very late when we all finally left the hospital, so Lula and I decided not to drive back to the coast that night. I was in a very good mood, thus, in a moment of weakness, I invited her to stay on the seventh floor with me. While I was still in Florida, Lula had been driving me crazy with her constant text messages about dress fittings and bridal shower gifts and bachelor party preparations for Connie and Vince's quickly-approaching wedding. Too late, I realized that Lula saw this impromptu slumber party as an opportunity to stay up all night and discuss all the plans in painstaking detail. Ungh! Mental head slap!

Since this was Connie's second marriage, her wedding party would be significantly smaller than the typical Italian wedding party. Her sister was going to be her matron of honor. Two Rosolli cousins, Lula and I were going to be the four bridesmaids. We already had our gowns and even though Lula had picked them out, they were actually very nice. She insisted that I model mine for her. It became painfully obvious that I would have to stick to Doc O'Neill's diet for me for the rest of the month if I planned to fit into my dress.

"Jeez, Lula," I groaned as she zipped me into the hot-pink floral, off-the-shoulder dress with a side slit that exposed skin almost up to the top of my thigh. Now that I had it on my body, I realized that the gown was quite a bit more revealing than I had originally thought. "We'd better hope for a nice calm day at Cape May," I warned Lula. "A few stiff ocean breezes and these bridesmaids' gowns might just steal the show away from the blushing bride."

Lula shook her head, "Nah, you just sayin' that 'cuz you ain't seen Connie's wedding dress, yet. Her outfit is gonna make everybody blush. I already told Tank that Bobby better have his medic kit handy – you know, in case some of our Merry Men keel over from all the excitement over Connie's dress."

"Do you think Vince will like it?" I asked as I wriggled out of my dress and put my comfy sweats back on.

"Like it?" Lula replied with a confused look on her face. "Honey, Vince'll be lucky if he remembers a single thing about his wedding. The boys are planning to get him so drunk at his bachelor party, I doubt he'll be able to do much more than stand at the altar and drool. Like I said, it's a good thing Bobby is our medic."

Bobby also was going to be Vince's best man. Ranger, Tank, Benny and Roy were going to be the groomsmen. Several other Merry Men, including Lester and Binkie, had volunteered to be ushers. Somehow, they all had convinced Vince that they needed to wear their now-infamous pin-striped suits. Instead of pastel pink shirts, like at Tank and Lula's wedding, the guys planned to wear white shirts with hot-pink bow-ties and matching cummerbunds. Ranger wasn't very happy about having to wear pink again, but I had assured him that he looked extremely manly, no matter what shade of pink he was wearing.

Lula slept out on the living room couch. When I called Ranger to let him know that we'd be staying in Trenton overnight and driving back out to Atlantic City in the morning, he growled something about not letting Lula sleep in his bed. I was slightly offended by my husband's bossy attitude, but later that night, I was grateful. Somehow, I had forgotten about the way Lula snored. Even though I closed the bedroom door and stuffed a towel under the bottom edge of the door, the horrendous sounds of Lula's snoring kept me awake half the night. It's safe to say that I was quite grumpy in the morning, even after Ella fed us one of her yummy breakfasts.

The next day was one of the worse days of my life. When we arrived back at the courthouse in Atlantic City, Tank wanted to know if we had been in contact with Ranger that morning. The giant man had eaten something the previous night that disagreed with his stomach, so he hadn't felt up to going on their usual morning run. Ranger gave his partner some Pepto Bismol™ and told him to go on ahead to the courthouse and not wait for his return. They planned to link up with the lawyer there. Both of them were supposed to testify in less than an hour, but Ranger hadn't shown up at the courthouse, yet. Tank had been sending the Man of Mystery texts all morning, but there hadn't been any responses.

"Usually, I wouldn't worry about something like this," Tank admitted. "I just have a funny feeling."

"You sure it's not your aching belly?" Lula asked. Then she began to scold him, "You know you shouldn't have eaten all those Buffalo wings last night – especially since half of them were supposed to be mine! And I told you that I asked for my half to be extra, extra, extra spicy. I don't care how much you think you can eat, Tank, that many hot wings will mess you up real good!"

Tank rolled his eyes and replied, "Lula, honey, my belly might be messed up right now, but I'm sure about my gut feelings."

This was not reassuring. I had wondered why I hadn't received any more morning greetings from my Batman. Whenever we were apart, he would send me little messages just to let me know he was thinking about me. It had been a while since Ranger's first text to me at five in the morning – a simple "miss u, Babe." I began to worry when our lawyer kept glancing down at his wristwatch. It wasn't until I began the nervous gesture of twisting my wedding band around on my finger hat I remembered our rings' imbedded GPS trackers.

"Tank! I've got an idea!" I whispered loudly to his back. He was sitting in the row in front of me and he turned around to stare at me.

"What is it?" he asked, his whispering voice was a low rumble.

"We have to call back to the RangeMan control room," I said. "If Ranger has his tracking device on, our guys should be able to locate him, right?"

Tank looked confused for a moment, but then he nodded, whispered something into the lawyer's ear and followed me out of the back of the courtroom. Lula went to go find us some more coffee and I called back to RangeMan headquarters on my cell phone. Roy was on monitor duty and he was confused when I explained that I needed him to find the blip that represented Ranger. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Roy gently told me that Ranger was untraceable.

"Not anymore, he's not," I declared confidently.

Then I remembered that only Ranger and I knew the specific code that would allow our trackers to have visibility on any of RangeMan's monitors. Well, this was an emergency, so I was sure that Ranger wouldn't mind me telling Roy about our wedding bands and the special code. So I explained the whole thing to him. From the way Tank was staring at me, I knew that Ranger hadn't clued-in his oldest buddy, either. Within minutes, Roy whooped triumphantly.

"Got him!" Roy crowed. "His blip is a bright as day on my display screen now. And, hey, Bomber, you've got a bright blue blip on here now, too. I can see that you're in Atlantic City. But, this is … strange-" And then Roy's voice drifted off.

My heart nearly stopped and I croaked, "Roy, what is it? What's the matter?"

After another moment of hesitation, Roy replied, "I … I'm sorry Stephanie, but I'm not quite sure what to make of this. If this is correct, then it seems like Ranger's blip is headed … um, well … out to sea."

"Out to sea?" I exclaimed. "What do you mean by that?"

Tank swore loudly and then started to make a call on his cell phone. He startled me when he barked at me to hand over my phone. He didn't have to ask twice. Clearly, Tank and Roy knew how to communicate with each other in a different form of English than what I knew. All I could understand were the strings of numbers he repeated and copied down on a piece of scrap paper. Then Tank made two more phone calls – one to the police and one to the Coast Guard - and when he finally disconnected, he looked at me with a somber expression on his face and I knew the news was worse than I had expected.

"Steph," Tank began, "I think someone in Galarza's gang of goons has snatched Ranger. We've been receiving threats at RangeMan ever since this whole mess began. They don't want him to testify."

"What kind of threats?" I asked and I felt the blood drain from my face.

Tank shrugged his massive shoulders and said, "Stupid stuff - like promising to feed Ranger to the sharks. But Steph, we never thought they'd have the cajones to do anything like this. They've probably got Ranger locked up on the father's yacht somewhere. If Roy is right, they're headed out to the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Omigod! There are lots of sharks out there!" I exclaimed. My knees wouldn't support me anymore, so I plunked myself down on a wooden bench softly wailed, "Oh, Ranger! How could something like this happen? Wh-why?"

"Why what?" Lula asked as she sashayed toward us. She was carrying a cup-holder with three large Styrofoam coffee cups jammed into it. "What's goin' on? Didya find Ranger?"

"Maybe," Tank shrugged. "Probably. The Coast Guard is checking now. I gotta go tell the lawyer so he can tell the judge. This is gonna hold up the trial, but the defendant will get over it. I'm sure he's behind Ranger's sudden disappearance, anyway. Crap!" Then he lumbered off and headed back into the courtroom.

Fifteen long hours later, I was back at the hospital, dozing off and on in an uncomfortable chair next to Ranger's hospital bed. The Coast Guard had apprehended the Galarza family yacht as it passed by off the coast of Delaware. They searched the luxury vessel and discovered Ranger, bound and gagged, stuffed into a small utility compartment aboard the boat. After they rescued him, we requested that he be transported to the hospital in Trenton, where he had to stay overnight for observation.

Apparently, more of Galarza's vengeful goons had ambushed and overpowered my Batman while he was jogging along the beach. They had attacked him from behind with a stun gun and then beaten him while he was unconscious. The thugs had blackened both of Ranger's eyes, cracked two of his ribs and gave him a concussion. They never would have been able to do such damage in a fair fight. Once the doctor said it was okay for Ranger to get some rest, the nurse gave him a strong dose of painkillers, and he drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, Ranger's eyes fluttered open and he groaned, "Babe."

"I'm right here, Carlos," I replied and I held his hand in mine.

"So glad … I … married you," his voice was barely above a whisper. "Got … the … ring."

I smiled down at him and gently patted his hand, "Yep, you did good with our rings. That's how we found you."

"Knew … you … would," he said and his eyes fluttered shut again.

Miraculously, Ranger's visible injuries healed enough for him to be able to participate in Connie and Vinnie's wedding. As far as Italian weddings go, this one went fairly smoothly. Lula was right; Connie's wedding gown was "va-va-va-voom" gorgeous and Vince was present in body only, because his mind was "three sheets to the wind." I was right, too; it was a beautiful and breezy day down at Cape May, where Vince's parents lived, and our very revealing bridesmaids' dresses created quite a stir. Between our wind-blown skirts and the Merry Men's buff bodies, there was plenty of "eye candy" to go around that day. Naturally, Ranger and I only had eyes for each other.

One week later, Rachel allowed Ranger and me to come down to Miami and we escorted Julie back up to New Jersey for the first two weeks of July. We all watched the spectacular Fourth of July fireworks show above the New York harbor. Ranger's mother, Gloria, threw two dinner parties and a backyard barbeque for Julie so that she could visit with most of her Mañoso family. Amazingly, only one or two of Ranger's older relatives asked me whether or not I planned on getting pregnant any time soon. I gave them the vaguest of answers and moved away from them as quickly as possible.

We spent a week at a beach house Ranger rented near Point Pleasant. Albert sent Angie, Valerie's oldest daughter, out to the beach to spend a few days with us and, surprisingly, the girls got along with each other quite well – probably because they shared deeper connections than anyone would have guessed. Julie was a few months older than Angie, but they were in the same grade in school. Both girls were very intelligent, they both had mothers who had remarried, they both loved their step-fathers, and they both had younger half-siblings who vied for their parents' attention. It was good to see Angie and Julie building a friendship and I hoped that it would last for a long time.

One of my favorite things to do was to sit under my beach umbrella and watch Ranger and Julie play in the surf. They had so much fun and they looked so much alike! I began to daydream about what it would be like to be able to have Julie spend entire summers with us and perhaps some holidays, too. Unfortunately, Rachel wasn't ready for such arrangements and we didn't want to push our luck with her and Ron. The two-week visit sped by so quickly that all of us were genuinely sad when Ranger and I had to take the girl back to her Florida home. We craved more time together, but we had promised to return Julie to Miami before her twelfth birthday party, which, thankfully, Rachel allowed us – and Papí Súarez - to attend.

Ranger and I made it back to Trenton just in time to attend Joe Morelli's wedding. Now that was a much more traditional Catholic wedding than Connie's soiree. Because Joe's fiancée, Linda Hansen, was a grade-school teacher, they had had to schedule their ceremony and honeymoon to take place during the summer break at the end of the school year. And since it would be the first marriage for either of them – and they both were from "good" Catholic families - the Morelli/Hansen wedding lived up to its promise to be a huge, bloated spectacle. Practically the entire Burg turned out to see the last of the wild Morelli boys get hitched. I didn't envy Linda one bit!

By the end of the summer, things finally settled down enough for me to take my skydiving lessons. Surprisingly, Jenna Cafferty's husband, Eric, was my primary instructor. It was good to catch up with both of them and I was happy to hear that her mother and the rest of her family was doing much better now that her biological father, John Cantrell, had been sentenced to life in prison. When I finished my lessons, Ranger came out to the airfield and we went on several jumps together - only this time, I was flying all by myself!

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Autumn: Tank's POV

The summer flew by faster than ever. After the incident during the first Galarza trial, when more of the idiot's loyal goons managed to kidnap Ranger and beat him up pretty good, my old friend and I had a long talk. I was impressed that Stephanie had been able to talk Roy through the process of activating the tracking device which was embedded on Ranger's wedding band and that the Coast Guard was able to locate him so quickly. I was not impressed by the way Ranger had withheld key information about his and Stephanie's latest personal tracking devices. He assured me that it was an oversight and that he truly had meant to tell me about their rings. I had to admit, though, that I was hurt by his exclusion.

"Tank, it was stupid of me," Ranger apologized. "I shouldn't have gone off for a run by myself that morning and I should have told you about the rings as soon as I got them altered. You know I've had a lot on my mind lately. That's part of the reason why you're in charge of this RangeMan office now. And, I must admit, the business is doing very well under your steady leadership."

"Thanks," I nodded. "You know, Ranger, I've had a lot on my mind, too. I'm glad that you and Steph were able to get everything sorted out down in Tampa, but I've been wondering: what's next for you two?"

Ranger regarded me with that certain look he often gets. I had seen it a thousand times and I knew it meant that he was thinking very hard about a sticky problem. I hoped that the "sticky problem" wasn't me this time. I really liked what I was doing now with and for RangeMan and I didn't want to relinquish control of this part of the company back to my old friend. Just when I was about to put my feelings into words, Ranger spoke.

"Why do you ask?" he said.

I fidgeted for a moment and then a flood of words tumbled out of my mouth. "Well, it's been a busy summer, you know. There was that FUBAR Galarza trial. Vince's wedding took a lot of manpower. So did the security jobs for the Fourth of July celebrations. We had to provide full coverage for both Stephanie and your daughter Julie while she was in town and when you all went out to the beach. And then there were all those days that a team had to cover the airfield while Steph took her skydiving lessons."

He nodded and a slow grin spread across his face. "Now you see why I've always had a specific funding line dedicated solely to my wife," he said. "She's a very busy lady. She generates lots of work."

The tension seemed to have eased up a little and I chuckled. "The good news is that contracts are plentiful these days," I explained. "We've had to bring on lots of independent contractors and temporary hires to cover all of our obligations. The bad news is that money is getting kind of tight. When do you think you and Steph might be able to go back out into the field and catch some more high-dollar skips?"

"Very soon," he replied. "In three weeks, I'm going back 'in the wind' and I'm taking Stephanie with me."

I let that news sink in for a moment before I asked, "Will you be staying down in Florida for part of the time?"

"Probably," he nodded. "Silvio sent me the files on some good prospects and I've been talking to Steph about this for a while."

"I have noticed that she's spending a lot more time in the gym and on the firing range," I said. "She's even coaxed Lula into joining her for a few rounds of target practice. They're actually improving their scores."

Now Ranger chuckled. "That's my Babe! My only request of her was that she'd prep herself for action. Of course, her only request of me was that I'd take her to warm and sunny places all winter long."

"So, how long do you think you'll be out there?" I asked. I had begun to feel a slight sense of loss, but I didn't allow my face to betray my thoughts.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Depends on what – or rather, who - we find along the way. You know the deal."

"Hooah," I replied. (Absolutely!)

After living 'in the wind' off and on for almost ten years, I most certainly did know the deal. In a way, I envied Ranger. He and Stephanie were free to travel around the world and go on great adventures together. There was no way that my Lula would ever be able to tone down enough for covert operations, but when I thought about the lifestyle we had here in New Jersey, I realized that I really was happy to settle down. Running the Trenton office of RangeMan was where I needed to be now. Sighing, I turned to Ranger and asked, "Where do you think you'll go first?"

Ranger shrugged again and said, "Definitely Miami. Then Atlanta and Boston before it get too cold. I've already started to work on the most lucrative federal cases. Silvio's helping on his end, too, especially now that Juanita and the baby are doing just fine. When Steph and I bring in these skips, money shouldn't be so tight."

Again, I nodded my head. "Okay, then. We'll always be on stand-by if you need anything. Just let me know."

"Hooah," he replied. (Thanks for understanding, old friend. I'm gonna miss you, too.)

I watched Ranger walk down the hallway and step into the elevator. When we officially transferred the office over to me, we agreed that the seventh-floor apartment would always remain his private domain. I realized then that he and Stephanie were going to be a nomadic couple, chasing skips across the country and having adventures for a while. Trenton probably always would be a home-base of sorts for them, because of Steph's family ties in the Burg. Sadly, I had the feeling that we wouldn't be seeing her and Ranger as often as some people - including my wife - might like. Our Batman and Wonder Woman simply weren't ready to settle down yet, and that was okay by me. I vowed always to be here for the Dynamic Duo, whenever they needed me, and I'm a man who keeps my promises.

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A/N: Well, I almost completed this story before the end of the year. It's been an interesting journey for me, so far, and it's not quite over yet. Even though I wrote most of it, including the upcoming epilogue, in my big spiral notebook over a year ago, it has taken me a long time to research the book quotes I wanted to use and to type up all of the chapters. Of course, it doesn't help matters that I tend to edit plot points while I type - or that I haggled with my poor beta, Claire, way too many times. The next time I write a story, I'm going to wait until I've finished typing the whole thing before I start posting the chapters! I hope to edit and post the epilogue very soon. While you're waiting, please check out the photos I added to "illustrate" this chapters. They're over at "www (dot) flickr (dot) com/photos/writes4fun/. Again, I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to let me know what you think of my writing. I'll get back to you soon. Thanks!