A/N: RL has been especially distracting lately and I find myself spending more time reading other's stories than working on my own. Thank you for sticking with me and all the words of encouragement. Your reviews, follows and favorites totally make my day and I appreciate you all. The story feels like it is winding up, maybe one or two more chapters after this. I look forward to hearing what you think.

Anything you recognize belongs to JE. Enjoy!

Chapter 25

My brain was fuzzy and my throat was on fire. Ranger reached for something and let go of my hand to spoon ice out of the cup he had grabbed. I felt the chill of the spoon resting against my bottom lip and opened my mouth enough to allow the cooling ice chips to slide into my dry mouth and down my tortured throat. Slowly, he spoon fed me a few ice chips at a time, waiting patiently as each spoonful melted across my tongue.

"What happened?" I rasped out between spoonfuls.

"From what we can determine, you took down Chagall and saved Morelli's life. Proud of you, Babe." Ranger's blank face was in place and I knew there was something he wasn't telling me.

"Is Chagall in custody?" I asked.

"No, he was dead by the time we got there," was his reply.

My brain fog was starting to clear a bit as I remembered back to the struggle in Joe's living room. I remembered jumping on Chagall's back and trying to wrap the chain from the cuffs around his neck as he prepared to inject Joe. I remembered him falling to the side and then nothing.

"Oh my God, I killed a man with my bare hands." Obviously I had killed in self-defense before, but shooting someone felt a little more removed than strangling a man. This seemed a lot worse.

Ranger set the cup of ice down and took my hand in his. "Babe, you did what you had to do to save your life and the cop's. You were defending yourself and Joe. Besides, we won't know what the cause of death was until the autopsy is complete."

"What do you mean, cause of death? I choked him to death with the handcuffs," I cried in a hoarse whisper.

"From the looks of it, he fell on the needle he was going to use to inject Morelli. We suspect it was heroin," Ranger explained. "If there was enough in the syringe to kill Joe, there was enough to kill Chagall."

This sounded a little strange, but my brain was still full of cobwebs and I didn't want to believe that I had choked a man to death, so I decided to let it go for now. "So when can I go home?"

This brought an almost smile to his mouth. "The doctor has already been alerted to the fact that you are awake. I'm guessing they will want to keep you at least one more day, but you should be able to move out of ICU and to a regular room. When you're ready to go home, we'll talk about where you want to stay while you recuperate."

Before I could reply, the doctor came into the ICU and headed straight for my bed. He gave me a smile and said, "Nice to finally meet you, Ms Plum. I'm Dr. Harris. Your husband has been glued to that chair almost the entire time you were with us in ICU."

My husband? I glanced over at Ranger. He had moved from his seat to stand against the far wall to make room for the doctor. I gave him my 'you've got some explaining to do' look and turned back to the doctor. "What's the verdict, doctor? When can I go home?"

"Well Ms Plum, you have some pretty serious injuries. We are going to be moving you out of ICU shortly, but I'd like to keep you in the hospital for a couple of days to monitor your breathing and watch for infection. Your most serious injury was the puncture in your lung from the fragment of wood that pierced your side. We were able to repair the tear in your lung, but you'll need to give your body time to heal. You have two broken ribs that will make it difficult to move for several weeks. You'll want to keep those wrapped. Your ribs will let you know pretty quickly if you're overdoing something and will keep you from doing anything too strenuous. Don't try to rush the healing process." I couldn't help but look over at Ranger at the mention of strenuous activity. The tiny twitch at the corners of his mouth told me he knew exactly what was going through my mind.

I gave myself a mental shake and focused back on the doctor as he continued. "Your nose is broken and has been reset and taped. You've also got a fractured cheekbone. There isn't anything we can do for that other than protect it from further injury while it heals. If there is a chance of you being hit in that area again, we'll need to get you fitted for a clear face shield to protect the bone while it heals. If you follow hockey, you've probably seen players wearing something similar." I wasn't planning on chasing skips in a clear hockey mask so I didn't think that would be necessary.

"Okay, so a couple of days? Any chance I can go home sooner?" My voice sounded harsh and it still hurt like hell to talk, but if I could talk my way out sooner I was willing to suffer through the discomfort. I hated hospitals and I wanted to be in my own space.

The doctor shook his head. "A chest wound with a punctured lung is extremely serious. Any sort of infection at this point would be dangerous, so I want to administer some heavy duty antibiotics through your IV. Once you've completed those, we'll reassess and see where we stand. Two more days at a minimum. But, we will be moving you to a private room shortly, so that should make it a little more tolerable."

He asked if I had any other questions and I shook my head no. The only question I had was for Batman. After the doctor left Ranger moved back into his place beside my bed.

"So, hubby, was it a nice ceremony?" It hurt to talk much above a whisper, but I was hoping to make Ranger squirm a little. After I used the fake husband routine to gain access to Manny when he was shot by Scrog I got a lot of good-natured ribbing from the guys. I still got called Wifey on occasion.

I should know better than to try to tease Ranger. He leaned forward and nipped my ear lobe before whispering "Not nearly as nice as the honeymoon will be." I felt my face heat up at the thought and hoped my suddenly elevated heart rate wouldn't send the nurses scrambling.

"Your mother told the doctor I was your husband so I could be with you in the ICU. It seemed expedient to just go with it," he explained.

Wow, go Mom! I thought. Who knew she could be so sneaky. Maybe I could get her to sneak me in some pineapple upside down cake. Thinking about dessert reminded me of something that seemed caught in the cobwebs of my brain. "Were you talking to me while I was out? I have this vague memory of hearing your voice as I was waking up. You were talking about food and offered to make me dessert. Was that real or a dream?"

Ranger full on smiled. "I was telling you about the flan my mother made when I was young. I used dessert to lure you back to the land of the living."

My throat was aching so Ranger fed me some more ice chips and gave me a few sips of water. I closed my eyes to rest a minute, and the next thing I knew the orderly was there to transfer me to my room. Ranger moved out into the hall while they got me ready but was never too far away. He walked beside me as my bed and medical paraphernalia was rolled down the hall. When we arrived at my room, he waited against the far wall while everything was set-up, hooked up and resettled. The nurse asked if I needed anything. I shook my head no and whispered thank you.

My room was at the end of the hall and relatively quiet. Although I had done nothing but lay in bed, I was exhausted. I told Ranger to go home and get some food and some sleep. I felt bad that I was keeping him away from his business and I told him it seemed silly for him to sit and watch me sleep. When I said this there was a little twitch at the corners of his mouth, like he thought that was funny. Ranger said he'd call my parents and give them my room number and let them know I was sleeping. With a final kiss on my forehead, and a promise to return soon, he was gone.

The muted murmurs from the hall created a kind of white noise and I sank into an exhausted slumber. Sometime later, I was awakened by the nurse who had come in to check my vitals and my IV. She offered me a Popsicle and some jello. My stomach sent out a request for donuts and a meatball sub, but I went with the Popsicle and jello instead. As I was slurping up the end of my orange jello my mother walked in.

"I always hoped you'd meet a nice doctor," she said. "Next time, how about you wait until I invite one to dinner." My mother, the comedian.

"I hear I'm already married to Ranger," I replied. "That will put a crimp in your dinner invites. The phone must be ringing off the wall."

"We took it off the hook." I smiled at that. Nothing thwarted the 'Burg grapevine like a busy signal. "Besides, your Ranger didn't seem to mind."

My family doesn't do emotion and sentiment, we do food and sarcasm. The fact that my mother was here in my hospital room told me how worried she had been. She pulled a couple of magazines and a crossword puzzle book from the bag she was carrying and laid them on the bed table. She fussed around the room, looking for something to straighten or tidy, but finding nothing to do, she returned to my side and straightened my blankets.

"I'm surprised your Ranger isn't here. He hardly left your side the whole time you were in ICU," my mother remarked. This was the second time she had referred to him as "my Ranger." I kind of like the sound of it.

The next two days passed in agonizing slowness. I had a steady stream of visitors, including my mother, grandmother, father and sister, as well as Lula and Connie. Ranger came later after visiting hours were over and left sometime after I fell asleep. He would pull the chair from the corner over beside my bed and we would talk quietly. He told me stories about his family and a lot of it seemed vaguely familiar. I was not surprised to learn these were the same stories he had told me while I was in ICU. After a while, he would tell me to get some rest and then quietly hold my hand, gently stroking the back of it with his thumb, until I fell asleep. On the second night, as I drifted off I had the realization that, even though we had been intimate on several occasions, this was the first time I felt a real intimacy with Ranger.

On the third day, the doctor declared me fit for release. I had received a full course of antibiotics to stave off infection and had not suffered any set-backs from the punctured lung. I had orders to take it easy and listen to my body. The only restrictions I had were the ones my own body would place on me as I healed.

I was anxious to get home, but Ranger and my mother each wanted me to stay with them for a few days. I really didn't feel up to participating in the morning battle for the bathroom, so I declined my mother's offer. As tempting as it was to stay with Ranger, I still had a lot to do at home before I moved in just a few weeks. It would be easier if I could work my way through things as I had the energy, rather than running back and forth from Haywood.

Ranger drove me home and got me settled on the couch. I was surprised at how drained I was just from walking from the Cayenne to the elevator. My ribs ached and it was hard to get comfortable. I hated the way the pain medication made me feel, but I gladly accepted the small pill and bottle of water from Ranger.

"Thanks, Ranger. As much as I appreciate all you've done, I'm kicking you out. The meds are going to make me sleep and I've taken up way too much of your time these last few days."

"Babe," he replied. I took that to mean he didn't mind.

"I'm serious. I'll be fine. My mom will be over later to bring Rex and to check on me. I'll keep my cell phone right beside me in case I need anything in the meantime. Now go away." This got an almost smile and a kiss on the top of my head.

"I'll go, but I'll be back later with dinner. Get some rest," he ordered. I hate being told what to do, but this time it sounded like a pretty good idea so I decided to listen.

I woke up when my parents came in a little while later. My dad was carrying Rex's tank and my mom had two bags of groceries. She stocked my empty fridge with milk, orange juice, fruit, deli meat and cheese. Cereal, soup and crackers went in the cupboard beside my peanut butter and the loaf of worthless white bread was placed on the counter. Good to know I wouldn't starve for the next few days.

Once they left, I put in a movie and laid down on the couch. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Ranger was crouched in front of the couch gentling pushing the hair out of my face. I knew it was him without ever opening my eyes from the faint aroma of Bvlgari shower gel. A flash of lust shot through me like heat lightning. After my convalescence, maybe we could play naughty nurse and dirty doctor.

"Babe, I'll play anything you want," he said with a sexy grin. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.

"Sorry, I must still be under the effects of the medication," I said as I sat up. Ranger went into the kitchen and brought back two bowls of what looked like a chicken stew. He set the bowls on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen for crusty bread and two bottles of water.

After dinner, Ranger helped me take a shower. At first I was mortified at the thought of needing help, but he made it feel completely natural as he gently washed my body and hair. I was still trying to reconcile this caring, attentive person to the Ranger I thought I knew. Lester's words about Ranger just being part he played echoed in my mind. I felt like I was finally getting to know the man behind the mystery. I felt like I was finally getting to know Carlos.

Once I was fed and clean, I was exhausted. My ribs were aching again and all I wanted to do was sleep. I slipped into an old Rangeman t-shirt and crawled into bed. Ranger said he had some work to do on his laptop and gave me a kiss on the forehead. Sometime in the night, I woke to find him beside me, my hand nestled in his. He had been careful to leave a little distance between us so he wouldn't jostle my ribs, but he made sure I knew he was there. For almost as long as I've known him, he's found a reason to touch me, whether it was his hand on the back of my neck, or brushing my hair off of my face, or wiping a tear off my cheek after an especially bad day. This brought a smile to my face as I drifted back to sleep.