After a hectic couple of weeks, I have only three assignments left for the semester, and none of them are due immediately, so I decided to take the weekend off and write the chapter that's been nagging at me from the backseat of my brain for about a week.

Chapter 57

Bobby and I spent most of the day lazing on the sofa together, chatting, watching mindless television and, for at least an hour after lunch, napping. It felt effortless, natural in a way no other relationship ever had been, and I couldn't help the way my heart seemed to be smiling. In retrospect it's almost funny how much I'd expected our behaviour to change once we'd acknowledged our feelings for each other. But it hadn't. If anything, it had only enhanced the overall experience. The reality was that Bobby was already a steady and supportive fixture in my day to day life. It just took a stressful 2am wakeup call and a tired morning conversation for me to allow myself to realised how much he meant to me.

I just hoped I wouldn't find some way to screw this up.

A spell had been cast over my apartment, I was sure. With Bobby still on leave for the weekend despite this morning's interruption, he was able to relax and be his true self. And for once he wasn't in danger of being dragged away by a phone call informing him that some injury or another had occurred and his presence was needed. We'd spent a couple hours hanging out here and there in the six weeks since I'd returned from England, but even that was stretching the limits of his free time between scheduled shifts and unscheduled call-ins. Not once had we been able to carve out an entire day where neither of us were obligated to do anything else.

This was exactly the kind of thing I'd hoped to achieve for the guys when I'd set up the work-free weekend for them. I mean, I hadn't expected to reap as many benefits from the endeavour as I had, but Bobby's easy posture and un-creased brow were just as satisfying as the knowledge that he was my… well, maybe it was too early to start trying to pin a label on this thing we were embarking on, but it didn't make me any less happy.

"What's that smile for?" Bobby asked, nudging my knee with his socked foot from the opposite end of the couch. "You didn't pick up the joker, did you?" he questioned, eyeing the cards I held and the pile of doubles that had been steadily growing on the cushion in front of me. "I've been holding this joker the whole game. I may cry if you ask me to hand it over."

"I was just thinking about how relaxed you look for a change," I shrugged, shifting a couple of cards around in my hand. The small smile I'd been sporting grew into a shit-eating grin as I lifted my gaze to him once more. "I would appreciate you handing over your joker, though."

Bobby's face drew itself into that familiar professionally blank formation as he pulled his own cards closer to his chest. "Go fish," he stated flatly.

"Hand it over, Brown," I demanded, my hand held out between us.

"I don't have it," he lied, and though his poker face was still in place, there was no missing the twitch of his lips as he struggled to keep a smile off her face.

"Yes, you do," I pointed out. "You just told me you'd been holding on to it since the beginning of the game. Give it to me!"

Calmly, he retrieved one card from the set in his grips and set the rest on the cushion in front of him, face down. Holding my gaze the entire time, he slowly lifted the card above his head, a small grin stretching his lips. "Come and get it," he taunted.

I narrowed my eyes at him, setting down my own cards as I assessed my options. I couldn't just pounce straight at him from my position with all the cards piled on the cushion between us, that would scatter the game and render my efforts to retrieve the joker pointless. But moving all the cards to the coffee table seemed like a lot of effort, and had the potential of mixing up the piles, which would also make the efforts pointless. I would need to leave the comfort of the couch and approach from that direction.

"You're asking for it now," I informed him, uncrossing my legs and slipping off the couch. "I cannot be held responsible for my actions if you resist."

"Bring it on," he replied, shifting slightly and tucking the card into the back pocket of his jeans.

No sooner had I braced a knee on the couch, delving my hands between Bobby and the sofa cushions in an attempt to retrieve the coveted card, than "I'm bringing sexy back" started playing in the kitchen. A phone call. Specifically, on Lester Santos. Heaving a sigh as Bobby grinned up at me, I stood once more and had trudged two steps toward the kitchen when a thought occurred to me. Bobby and I were a thing now. And Lester and Tank were some of my closest friends, and crazily observant. Probably, Lester would be able to tell the difference in my and Bobby's relationship just from a single phone conversation. I didn't want to hide it from them, but I also didn't know what to say to them. What if they didn't approve of Bobby and I being together? What if took offence? What if-

"Steph?" Bobby's voice was filled with concern as it drifted over from the sofa where he still sat. "Is something wrong?"

"That's Lester calling," I stated vaguely, turning to face him. I felt a little wild, and it must have shown on my face, because the second he caught sight of the look in my eyes he was off the couch and in front of me.

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

"What are we going to tell him?" I asked.

His concern shifted, softening, as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "We don't have to tell them anything until we're ready," he said, holding my gaze so firmly that it felt like he was staring directly into my soul.

I shook my head. "They'll notice, though," I pointed out. "He' your best friend. There's no way he's not going to notice the change in our dynamic. What if he gets suspicious? What if he asks questions? What if-"

"Steph," Bobby said calmly, lifting one hand to my cheek to bring my eyes back to his, alerting me to the fact that I'd been sprouting my concern directly toward his chest. "Trust me. It'll be fine. Lester and Tank aren't the burg. They're not going to gossip behind our backs. If they notice a difference in the way we interact they'll observe and assess the situation. They'll likely draw their own conclusions from that information. I doubt they'll come right out and ask what our relationship status is, so if you're not comfortable with discussing it just yet, don't."

I took a deep breath. He was right, of course, but the twist in my gut had only slightly eased. "It feels like lying," I whispered.

"It's only lying if you change the way you behave around them," Bobby said, pulling me closer into a hug. "If you deliberately act differently toward me when we're around them than you would when we're not, to try and hide our relationship, that would be lying. But acting naturally and allowing them to draw their own conclusions is not, okay? I don't want you to beat yourself up over this. They're gonna be fine with it. And if they do have questions, they're much more likely to corner me with them than you."

"Right." I wasn't entirely convinced, but there was no denying the fact that Bobby knew the guys and how they operated much better than I did. "Okay."

"It's still fresh," Bobby went on, adjusting his grip on me so that I was wedged into his side as he led us into the kitchen where my phone had gone silent. "It's normal to have these doubts and apprehensions. What's important is that we keep the line of communication open and talking about them as they arise so that we can get through it together."

I nodded to show that I'd heard and understood. I would do my best to keep communicating with Bobby. It was one of the things that always seemed to be lacking in my past relationships.

"Now," he said, satisfied that he'd diffused my anxiety for the time being. He picked up my phone and set it in my hand. "You see what Lester wanted, and I'll scavenge in your fridge to see what we can make for dinner." He pressed a brief kiss to my forehead and released his grip on me, moving toward the fridge.

Before I had a chance to recover and start to dial, the phone was ringing again. Lester. I took a quick breath to calm the nerves that once again reared their ugly heads, and locked eyes with Bobby who had paused with his hand on the fridge door handle. I dragged the green circle across the screen to accept the call and pressed the phone to my ear. "Hey, Les," I greeted, putting as much enthusiasm as I could into my voice. Bobby sent me a smile and a nod and ducked his head inside the fridge to sort through my food.

"Beautiful! Are you running late, or standing me up?" Lester enquired, the slight concern in his tone mostly masked by his usual jovial attitude.

My brows drew together in confusion. "For what?"

"It's Sunday!" Lester said. "We have a standing gun range date!"

Shaking my head, sought out the glowing numbers of the microwave clock display. It was ten after five. Ordinarily we would have started our hour-long session at five and then gone straight to our weekly dinner with the others at Shorty's, but… "You're on a work-free weekend," I reminded him. "I assumed we wouldn't have a session. I haven't been running with Bobby either."

"I thought you'd still want your session," Lester said. "Don't wanna lose the momentum of your progress."

"But you're supposed to be work-free," I repeated.

He chuckled. "I don't consider hanging out with you as work," he said. "So, are we on? Or are you busy?"

I looked to Bobby, who was peering at me once more, allowing his calm to infuse my body. "I'm kinda hanging out with Bobby at the moment," I told Lester, "We were about to start making dinner."

Lester sounded like he was frowning when he spoke again. "What about group dinner?" he asked. "We always have dinner together on Sundays."

He was right. Somehow, we'd fallen into a routine, and part of that routine was meeting for dinner on Sundays. But again, I'd figured the guys would want to spend their work free weekend doing things they otherwise wouldn't have been able to do. I said as much to Lester, which caused Bobby – who had now abandoned the refrigerator – to crinkle his forehead, and Lester let out what could have been a disbelieving whistle.

"Beautiful," he said, and the seriousness of his tone made me stand a little taller. "Do you really think it's such a chore to hang out with your that we wouldn't want to do it during the one weekend that we have a million hours of free time? I'm actually kicking myself that Bobby was smarter than me and thought to fill more of his time with you."

A strangled noise left my throat as I contemplated what might have happened if Lester had thought to come over earlier in the day. What he might have interrupted between Bobby and I. "Well, we always knew you were the dumber of the two," I managed to choke out, trying for a light and teasing tone. "Do you still want me to come and shoot some stuff? I can talk to Bobby and-"

"You go," Bobby interrupted, making a shooing gesture as he opened the fridge once more. "I'll cook while you're gone, and let Tank know the change of venue for Sunday dinner."

I nodded, and relayed the information to Lester who accepted whole heartedly, always eager for a free meal, especially, it seemed, if Bobby was cooking. Hanging up the phone, I wrapped my arms around Bobby from behind as he laid an armful of vegetables on the counter. "Thank you," I murmured against his spine.

"For making sure you keep working on your gun skills?" Bobby questioned, twisting to try and peer at me. "Or cooking dinner?"

"For being flexible, and generous, and understanding," I said.

He chuckled, but dragged me around to his front so I could see his face when he told me with more sincerity than I thought existed in the universe, "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." And I believed him, but I thought that was a dangerous piece of information to have and silently pledged to forget that fact. "Now go practice shooting some paper people," he added, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips and spinning me away from him to go gather my essentials and get going.

A minute later I was back in the kitchen, sitting on one of the chairs as I laced up my beat up sneakers. A hum of disapproval drifted over from where Bobby was leaning against the counter, sipping from a bottle of water.

"What?"

He shook his head. "We need to get you some better shoes," he informed me.

I rolled my eyes. I was actually surprised, knowing what I knew about Bobby's love of shoes, that it had taken this long for him to mention something about my own ratty runners. "I have bigger priorities right now," I informed him. "I need a car of my own, I can't keep driving Big Blue forever."

Another hum escaped him, but when I looked up his face was more thoughtful than disapproving this time.

Narrowing my eyes, I tugged the second bow tight and stood. "No," I said firmly, causing his expression to fall somewhat. "I will figure it out myself. You are not buying me a car." Receiving a car as a gift was a grand gesture, and one that would, unfortunately, always be associated with Ranger in my mind. I didn't want something like that hanging over us as Bobby and I figured out our budding relationship.

"So, shoes are okay?" he asked, perking up.

I sighed and shook my head. He could be absolutely incorrigible when he set his mind to it. "We'll see," I conceded. "I should go before Lester thinks I've forgotten him again."

"Wouldn't want to bruise his inflated ego, would we?" he grinned.

Thank you all for your patience as we continue.