Thank you all so much for your fantastic responses to this story. Some of them have given me a lot to think about.

Chapter 47

I was back at the Bonds office the next morning, determination lending energy to my otherwise tired self. Lester, Bobby and I had lingered at Shorty's with probably a few more pitchers of beer than was appropriate for a school night, and then I'd further extended the poor decision making by staying up well past my now self-imposed bedtime or ten o'clock to nut out a plan of attack to bring Janice Adino back into the system. No Burg housewife gone wild was going to derail all the progress I'd made. So she blew up my car. So what? I had to get back on the horse and prove to the world that I was more to the Bombshell Bounty Hunter than explosions and rolling through garbage.

I pushed through the door with a bakery bag in one hand and tray of coffees in the other. I told myself that the three coffees in the tray were to share with Connie and Lula, but I wasn't convinced. If given half a chance, I could very well have consumed all three and still been bone tired. Fortunately – or unfortunately depending on how you look at it – the girls did not allow me to hoard all the caffeine for myself, snatching cardboard cups from my grips almost before I'd set them down on the edge of Connie's desk.

Connie eyed the bakery bag I my other hand over the rim of her cup. "That doesn't look big enough to share," she accused.

"There's enough, don't worry," I said, holding the bag open for her to take one.

She looked in the bag, then back at me before slowly reaching in. "One each?"

"What ever happened to a baker's dozen?" Lula asked when I turned to offer her one of the two doughnuts left in the bag. "I like the options. I like the way it lasts most of the day. This one doughnut's not gonna maybe last to morning-tea time."

"Moderation," I said, plopping down beside her with my own coffee and donut. "I hear it's a good thing, so I thought we'd try it out."

They huffed at me, clearly unimpressed with my offerings this morning, but didn't say anything more about it as they consumed the treats I had supplied and allowed the hot caffeine to filter through their systems. I was grateful for the moment of silence to let the sugar and coffee do it's thing. Waking up had been a chore this morning, more so than usual. My usual morning run with Bobby, and the hot, steamy shower that followed had done a lot of good, but even with all the progress I'd made rousing my senses, I knew I wasn't in the best state chasing down skips today. I was tired. And tired people made mistakes. But the show must go on.

"How was Louis once you got home?" I asked Lula, recalling how distraught he'd been when he'd arrived at the scene of the car bombing last night. It had been completely shocking to me at first, because I knew that no one had been hurt, Lula and I were both fine, I doubt our heart rates were even elevated. But then I remembered that whereas Lula and I had been through this a hundred times over, this was Louis's first experience with narrowly avoiding losing the love of his life. He hadn't loosened his grip on Lula from the moment he arrived to the moment he ushered her safely into the passenger seat of his BMW.

It was simultaneously heart warming, and upsetting. On a number of levels. I was so glad that Lula had someone who cared for her so deeply that it drove him to madness to even think that he could have lost her. That desperate love, that hinged on the other person's wellbeing was something I'd only ever glimpsed. I'd been worried for loved ones before, and I'd had loved ones worry about me, but not to the extent that Louis and Lula displayed last night. There was something that transcends word that passed between them when they embraced under the flashing red and blue lights.

And that is what upset me. That hollow ache in my chest as I longed for something I would likely never be lucky enough to find. Love like that was a one in a million chance, and with my track record, the odds did not appear to be in my favour.

"We didn't make it all the way home for a while, if you know what I mean," Lula said, waggling her eyebrows at me. "Louis had a great need to feel just how alive I was, and I am not the kind of woman who can say no to a man in need."

As always, we knew exactly what Lula was talking about. Lula had exactly three mind-sets: food, sex, and shopping. And she liked to keep us all informed of all three of them.

"No, you're not," I agreed, sending her a wan smile. "Are you up for some revenge bounty hunting?"

She eyed me. "We going after that Janice bitch?"

I nodded.

"You driving your granny's Buick?"

Another nod.

"We're taking my car," she announced, surging to her feet. "Come on. Let's go show that wannabe bomber the can of worms she opened. I'll teach that woman a lesson about making my man worry."

*o*

"You're looking a lot more alive this morning than you did yesterday," Bobby commented as I stepped out the back door of my apartment building to meet him in the parking lot as was our habit these days. He extended his arm toward me and, when I placed my hand in his, pulled me into a brief one-armed hug: another habit that was increasing in frequency as time went on. "You get some sleep?"

"Conked out at nine," I confirmed, squeezing him back for a second before he released me and stepped out into some stretches to start his warm-up. I followed his lead, and, like always, kept up the stream of conversation as he prepared for our run. There were a number of reasons I let my mouth run its course as we warmed up. First, the chatter helped to trick my brain into thinking I was more awake than I actually was, because if I reverted to caveman grunting I was more likely to give in to the need to go back upstairs and climb into bed. And then there was the inherent need to check in Bobby. Once we started running, conversation would be a minimum as we focused on breathing, but I liked my morning time with Bobby. Airing my thoughts and running through new developments in my life and getting his thoughts and encouragement. And what made it even better was when Bobby started reciprocating, telling me about things that were going on in his life, and at Rangeman so that I could return the kindness.

"But at least I got my man," I said to conclude the long-winded explanation of how exhausted I'd been when I got home last night. Janice Adino had been a tougher cookie to crack than I'd originally thought, but with the right planning and utilising almost all of the skills I'd learned with Brandon, I managed to get her back to the cop shop without too much of an incident.

He sent me a proud beam of a smile under the arm he was stretching over his head. "That's great, Steph," he praised. "I'm glad your hard work is paying off."

I couldn't not mirror his grin back at him. I was proud of myself for putting my training to good use, and I was tickled pink that Bobby recognised the progress I'd made. "It feels like things are finally start to come together," I admitted, taking a deep breath as I silently prayed that I hadn't just jinxed myself. I knew from experience that things didn't always go the way I planned them, and the fact that my life seemed to be plodding along quite nicely, if you discount the minor disruption of a car explosion, made me more than a little nervous.

Bobby must have guessed the direction of my thoughts, because the next thing I knew, he'd dropped his arms to his side and crossed the small distance between us, laying his hands on my shoulders as he commanded me to meet his gaze. "The decisions you're making and the hard work and consideration you're putting into every area of your life right now is what matters more than anything else," he said, quietly. "You're proving to the world that things like petty car bombings won't stop you."

I nodded, and sent him a tight smile as he stepped back and started jogging on the spot. "Thanks," I said quietly.

"No problem," he replied with a slight shoulder lift. "Now let's get going, I've got a fun idea for a mini race today." And with that, the time for pre-run conversation was over as he turned and started jogging toward the street, leaving me to either double time to catch up or be left in the metaphoric dust.

Twenty minutes later we stood at the base of the biggest, steepest hill in the Chambersburg area, and I was starting to think Bobby wanted me dead.

"No way," I said as firmly as my laboured breathing would allow. He glanced over in question and I shook my head emphatically. "Can't," I said. "It's impossible. Big Blue won't even go up this hill, and he's got an engine."

The slight crinkles in the corners of his eyes deepened even though he wasn't smiling. "Aw, come on, Steph," he teased. "You've got an engine too."

"Big Blue also has wheels," I pointed out.

He turned his attention back to the mountain for a few moments while I slowly got my breathing under control. "Tell you what," he said, "If you beat me up the hill, I'll give you a piggy back all the way home."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If I even make it to the top at all we're walking home," I countered. "No running. I do this hill and I'm done with fast paced cardio for the day."

"Deal," he said, thrusting his hand to shake on it. I obliged the gesture, but my head was slowly shaking the entire time. How did I let myself get into this situation?

"Your quest for betterment brought you to my fun run mornings," Bobby said, letting me know that my thoughts hadn't been as far inside my head as I would have liked. "And now you've fallen victim to my awkward charms."

"I blame the fact that it's early in the morning," I retorted, propping my hands on my hips defensively. "My good sense hasn't kicked into operation yet. If you suggested doing this mid-afternoon there'd be no convincing me."

The smile that had been carefully contained as he teased burst forth then with a bark of laughter. "That's because no one in their right mind runs out in the elements mid-afternoon," he pointed out. "Now come on, I'll give you some pointers for hill running."

Somehow, I managed to make use of the quick tips Bobby gave me and not die or roll back down the hill. By the time we reached the peak I felt like I was almost crawling, but Bobby was keeping pace, just a step or two ahead, filling my ears with a constant stream of encouragement to keep my mind off the burn in my calves and my chest. It was definitely the slowest 'race' we'd ever done, but when I reached the top, and all I wanted to do was drop to the ground and let it consume me whole, Bobby pulled me into his arms and I collapsed against his chest instead.

"I did it," I wheezed, unable to even lift my arms to return his embrace I was so exhausted. I was impressed with my efforts, but I also was not looking forward to the journey home, or the fact that I had my whole day still ahead of me. If I was this spent at the beginning of the day, I didn't what I might be feeling by the time dinner rolled around.

"Take a minute to catch your breath," Bobby said, rubbing my arm reassuringly. "And then we'll start walking home."

I nodded, and after a few minutes, managed drag myself upright of my own volition, dislodging Bobby's arms that had been lightly supporting me. "Let's roll," I sighed.

"This actually works out well," Bobby said falling into step beside me as I turned toward the side streets that would take us back down the hill at a much more gradual pace than the straight up method we'd taken to get to the top. "Because I have some things I've been thinking about for a while and I'd like to get your opinion on them."

"Shoot," I instructed, eternally grateful that he wanted to take the lead in a conversation, because after the torture he'd just put me through I wasn't sure I'd be able string together much more than a single sentence at a time for the next week.

He was quiet for a few beats, and I guessed he was getting his thoughts in order before he revealed them to me. "I'm thinking of moving out of Haywood," he finally said, staring straight ahead to avoid my gaze when my head snapped around.

"Oh?" I asked, unsure what to make of this news. I thought he was happy with his apartment on the fourth floor. It kept him close at hand in case any medical emergencies arose, and the servicing that was provided by Rangeman, things like laundry and the occasional housekeeping, were convenient and time saving. And above all that, it was secure. I know I was a little jealous of the sweet deal the guys had by living on the fourth floor.

His eyes cut briefly to me, gauging my reaction. "Yeah," he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, a gesture that I'd come to recognise as the manifestation of his stress, like he was trying to self-massage out a kink that just wouldn't go away. "It's getting to be exhausting living there."

"How do you mean?" I frowned.

The heaviest sigh I'd ever heard from one of the Merry Men fell from his lips, as we continued resolutely forward. At this pace it would take ten minutes to get back to my building if we cut a direct route and something told me we'd need the majority of that time for this conversation. We'd gotten a lot closer in the last month or so, talking about things I didn't think I could discuss as easily with anyone else, but that didn't mean every conversation was easy. And despite the fact that he'd been the one to bring it up, the topic of moving out of Haywood was obviously a difficult one.

"As the company medic I'm on call twenty-four seven for any medical events that may arise," he explained slowly, glancing over again. He knew I knew this already, but I wasn't about to interrupt him to point it out. It was clearly a vital piece of information in his explanation. So I kept quiet, simply nodding for him to continue. "Living on site seemed like the best course of action eight years ago when we were just starting out. We all had a lot of money tied up in getting the company off the ground and if I could save on expenses by utilising one of the spare apartments on the fourth floor, then all the better."

He paused to breath deeply, not quite a sigh this time, but dangerously close. His hand came up to rub over his face and I suddenly realised just how exhausted he was. While I'd been tired yesterday from a lack of sleep, it was nothing compared to the long-term fatigue Bobby was suffering. I can't believe I hadn't noticed it before now, because now that I saw the set of his jaw and the tension lining his face there was no way I could unsee it.

"Now though," Bobby continued. "It's like I can never quite turn off all the way. I live in the building. I work in the building. I need to be on hand every minute of the day in that building. I can't relax. And since I can't relax, I never feel fully rested, you know?"

I nodded. I'd never been in that situation, but I relied on sleep enough to know that when I would wound tight it made for a shit night's sleep, and if you put a bunch of those in a row it did not have a pleasant effect on my psyche. There was no telling how I'd feel if I was subjected to that kind of deprivation for weeks, months, or even years on end as Bobby had been. "You need a space that is separate," I surmised as we rounded one final corner. My apartment building was still three blocks away, but the end was in sight, and although I was hesitant to bring this heart to heart to an end, I couldn't deny the relief that washed through me. "So that you can clearly say, 'I'm at home, I don't need to worry about that here.' Leave your troubles at the door, kind of thing."

He nodded as I unzipped my jacket, stripping it off so that the brisk morning air could cool my heated skin. It wasn't until several paces later when I turned my head to ask where he was planning to move to that I realised Bobby had stopped dead in his tracks, his already troubled brow creasing as he stared at me.

"What-" I tried to ask, spinning to face him front on, but his serious expression and the crisp, precise steps he took to close the distance between us killed the words before they made it to my tongue.

"Lift your left arm, please," he requested in a tone that left me no choice but to obey. With my jacket dangling from the hand above my head I couldn't see his expression very clearly, but the hissing sound that reached my eyes let me know that he probably wasn't very enthused by what he saw.

"What's wrong?" I asked, trying to peer around the jacket to see what had caught his attention. It was a futile endeavour though and I was shocked into stillness when his fingers made contact with my ribs just below the band of my sports bra.

"How did this happen?" he asked, his voice softer than the barely-there touch and full of the kind of concern that was hardened by barely contained anger.

With my left arm still up in the air to accommodate his inspection, I dropped the jacket to my right and twisted slightly to finally find out what had him in such a state. A dark purple bruise was blooming under his hand. "Oh," I uttered, thinking back over the last twenty-four hours to the fight that had broken out at the Adino residence when I'd gone to pick her up. Janice hadn't been too happy to see me and was putting on one hell of a struggle to stay out of my cuffs, but when her nineteen-year-old son came home and found a couple of women trying to drag his mother away, he'd taken offence and joined the fray until managed haul him to the ground and sit on top of him while I cuffed Janice and got her in the car. "I guess I caught a fist taking Adino in yesterday," I shrugged.

The look Bobby gave me might have been comical if it weren't for the fact that it was directed at me and it was accompanied by a tightened jaw and a clenched fist. "You guess?"

I rolled my eyes. "Okay," I relented. "I did catch a fist to the side yesterday, but it's fine, Bobby. It doesn't even hur-OW!" I cut myself off on a gasp as Bobby suddenly pressed his fingers into the discolouration.

He raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

"Well of course it's going to hurt when you poke it like that," I snapped, stepping out of his reach and stuffing my arms back into my jacket. I didn't want to, but I needed the thin veil of defence against Bobby's scrutiny.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you didn't get this checked out?" Bobby asked, his tone milder, like he was getting himself back under control after the shock of discovering my bruise.

"You just checked it out then," I pointed out, knowing that it wasn't the right answer, but unable to do any better than that.

Bobby groaned out a frustrated list of words my mother would have admonished him for, dragging his palms down his face. "This is a serious bruise, Steph," he pointed out. "You could have cracked ribs!"

I doubted that. I'd had cracked ribs before and they hurt a lot more than this bruise did. "Considering I didn't even know I had a bruise until just now," I started to explain my viewpoint, but Bobby didn't let me finish, confusion joining the mix of emotions mingling o his face.

"How could you not know?"

My shoulder lifted of it's own accord as I fiddled with the zipper on my jacket. "I don't know," I admitted. "I had other things on my mind? I got dressed in the dark this morning?"

He sighed for a third time this morning, and I was seriously concerned about the amount of stress he was carrying on his shoulders and the part I appeared to playing in it. "Come on," he said, reaching for my hand as he started walking again. "Let's go get you checked out."

"But you just did!" I reminded him, moving my hand slightly to avoid his grasp. "I'm fine."

Something about my actions or my statements must have turned something over in his brain, because he stopped, roving his gaze over my whole being before he spoke again with more of his usual medic calm infusing his voice. "You need x-rays," he explained patiently.

Those were not the words I wanted to hear. X-rays meant hospitals. And hospitals meant white walls and prodding and questions and- I shook my head firmly, willing myself to hold my ground even as my flight response urged me to put distance between myself and Bobby. "No," I said. "No hospitals."

"Steph," he implored, but I couldn't do it. I hated that I'd been more than happy to let him give me a comprehensive physical in the back kitchen of a pizza place to ease his mind but couldn't comply with this honest concern for my wellbeing.

"Promise me, Bobby." My voice was smaller than I would have liked as I wrapped my arms around myself defensively.

"I promise I won't leave you side," Bobby assured me, stepping forward and rubbing his hands up and down my arms in that comforting way he had. "But we need to get this checked out. I don't want you to do more damage by ignoring it."

My eyes were stinging, and it was getting hard to breathe. I knew I was being unreasonable, that I was bordering on hysteria, but I couldn't seem to calm myself down. Just like I'd thought while we were warming up, my life was running too smoothly for it to be able to last. "I don't want to go to the hospital," I all but sobbed.

His arms wrapped all the way around me then, like he couldn't bear to see me so upset. "What if I take you to a clinic instead?" he asked, stroking a hand gently down my back in an effort to calm me down. "We won't go to the hospital, but you need to get an x-ray to make sure you're as fine as you say you are."

"I'm not sure I am fine," I mumbled into his chest, then louder, turning my head to be sure he could understand my words, I asked. "Do you promise you won't leave me alone?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Bobby pledged.

Being that we are in the dying hours of the last day of April down here in Oz, this chapter makes up the last of my Camp NaNoWriMo efforts, rounding my word count out to 48,475.