Here it is, folks, the last chapter chapter of the story. Savour it, because after this there's only an epilogue.
Chapter 87
With Bobby's expert care, a good night's sleep and some electrolytes, I managed to only have the smallest of hangovers the next morning. Bobby had the cure waiting for me when I woke up though, so by the we arrived at Laser Force, I was practically brand new. Thank god for small miracles, because I don't know how I would have handled running around in a dimly lit warehouse obstacle course with a splitting headache and a roiling stomach like I'd woken with yesterday.
We were ushered into a small room by a nervous looking, acne riddled teen who explained the rules without breaking down in tears or wetting his pants, so I figured he had a promising career ahead of him. He then left us to pick teams and gear up while he set up a couple of things for our game.
Obviously, Lester was the captain of the first team, and based on the competitive comments that had been made when the invitations were first handed out – and every day since – he elected for Cal to be his rival. After that, it was exactly like being back in middle school PE class, except my gym shorts weren't trying to creep up my ass and I was the only co-ed in attendance.
"Clearly, I have to start of with my secret weapon," Lester said, pointing at me as he began the selection process. "Steph."
"So much for being your best friend," Bobby grumbled at him, relinquishing the light hold he had on my hand so that I could move to stand next to Lester.
Lester rolled his eyes – a bad habit he'd picked up from spending time with me, no doubt. "Relax, dud," he commented. "I'm picking you next."
It was just about the worst thing he could have said, because no sooner were the words out of his mouth than Cal was picking his first team mate, and absolutely no one was surprised by the fact that it was Bobby.
"What?! No!" Lester protested. "He was going to be my next pick! I literally just said so!"
Cal shrugged, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his lips, revealing a row of perfectly even teeth. "If you really wanted him on your team you would have picked him first," he pointed out. No one could refute that logic, so the picking continued with exactly as much cattiness and spite as I'd come to expect from these men when they'd been scorned during a game. Honestly, they were worse than teenage girls sometimes.
In the end, Lester and I and a fairly well rounded group with Hal, Hector and Zero, while Cal and Bobby were joined by Tank, Hank, Ghost and Woody. Technically, Woody should have been on our team, but Lester decided to make taunting comments about Cal needing all the help he could get up against his dream team, and practically shoved Woody at him. I expressed concern over this decision, given that the scoring was based on number of 'kills', and if they had more people they had more opportunity to 'kill', but Zero assured me that the odds of winning were based more on skill than numbers.
I needn't have worried so much over it, though, because as it turns out, we were still waiting on one last member of the party to arrive. And he was very much a game changer. I was on the far side of the room, getting assistance from Hal to untangle and fasten my vest to my chest when the final addition arrived. I wasn't facing the door, but I knew instinctively who it was based on the shift in atmosphere: Ranger.
I'd spoken to him a few times over the last couple of months, but I hadn't seen him in person since the day he tried to sell the company to Lester, Bobby and Tank, and announced that he was moving back Florida to be closer to his Abuela. That was not long after I my leg got broken, which made it at least six months ago. Our interactions ever since had been perfectly polite and we'd even managed to resume a semblance of our old banter during phone conversations, but they almost never lasted more than fifteen minutes, and more often than not, these days were work related as he started integrating back into the company, and he and Tank had decided that speaking directly to me on certain details was more efficient.
This laser tag game was meant to last at least two hours, though, and logic would dictate that he join Lester's team since we had less people. It shouldn't be a problem, of course, but I couldn't help being nervous at the prospect of interacting with him in person again.
Bobby must have noticed my reaction, because in the next moment he'd seamless replaced Hal's hands on my straps, capturing my gaze with his deep, brown eyes. "Okay?" he questioned, which was obviously shorthand for 'Are you okay with being in the same room as Ranger?'
I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Fine," I assured him, fiddling with the edges of the chest plate. "Worried about awkwardness, since we'll be on the same team but…" I shrugged. "I think we'll be okay? We've talked on the phone some and that was fine. And it's not like we can avoid each other forever, right? I work in his company and regularly hang out with cousin and best friend."
"I can switch teams if you like," he offered, pausing his work on the strap. "Put Ranger on Cal's team and I join Lester's."
"Unnecessary," I said with a firm head shake of my head. Shuffling the teams so that Ranger and I weren't on the same side would give the impression that I was trying to avoid him. And despite my initial reaction to his actions, I'd worked hard to move past it and also accept my own part in the events that had occurred. I knew he hadn't necessarily been in control of the situation, and I honestly hoped we could reach a point where my entire body didn't tense when his name appeared on the caller ID or he entered a room, that we could somehow find a way back to friendship after all we'd been through. There was always going to be a first step in the process, so the way I figured it, there was no time like the present to take it.
Bobby held my gaze for a moment, weighing the truth of my statement and any emotions he could sense bubbling away beneath the surface Whatever he perceived must have been enough to convince him I'd be all right, though, because with a short nod, a kiss on my forehead and a final tug at the strap he'd just secured, he turned me around and nudged me toward the rest of my team. "Knock 'em dead," he called after me.
Lester slung his arm over my shoulders when I slipped into the loose huddle that had begun to form while they finished up securing the necessary equipment to the appropriate parts of their bodies. "Sorry I didn't warn you he'd be here," he said, turning his head to speak directly into my ear. "He was a last-minute addition last night. He's in town to help his parents with a project."
"It's fine," I said quietly, pressing the side of my head into his shoulder to thank him for his apology, then louder, I added. "So, what's the plan?"
"I have an idea," Lester grinned, eyeing the rest of our team, and then craning his head to check on the others. "But we'll talk about it when we're taken into the course, don't want the enemy to overhear."
*o*
We'd been playing for about an hour now, and as far as I could tell, things were going well. I'd only been shot a handful of times, each time when I'd ventured off on my own, so eventually, I decided that sticking with Lester was probably my best bet and not being the absolute bottom of the leader board. He could watch my back, and I could watch his. And Ranger could keep an eye on all three of our backs, since he'd apparently also decided to stick with Lester.
It was sheer dumb luck that I even managed to find them in the strategically placed mess of the warehouse. All the men were like mist, appearing out of thin air to shoot me, then disappearing as soon as the light on my chest plate had turned red, indicating that I was 'dead'. Technically, the rules stated that you were supposed to stand exactly where you 'died' until the light turned green again, indicating that you were alive, but I figured the guys already had enough of an advantage over me, with their extensive military training, so I used those 30 second 'dead' periods to find shelter. Which is how I stumbled across Lester and Ranger, squeezed between a few boxes on the second level of the over-large industrial shelving units that filled the warehouse.
I was trying to shift a box on ground level to hide behind, and maybe wait for the guys on Cal's team to wander past so I could shoot them for a change, when I heard an insistent 'psssst' from overhead. Next thing I knew, a pair of strong, mocha latte arms was hauling me up beside the cousins.
"Have you seen Bobby?" Lester whispered, beckoning me further into their little cubby.
I shook my head, still dealing with the surprise of finding myself in an enclosed space with Lester and Ranger. "No," I said.
"He's playing a slow game," Ranger said. "I caught a glimpse of the score board on my way through the crossroads. His kill count is low, but his respawn count is non-existent."
"What does that mean?" I asked. I knew what all the words he'd said meant, of course, respawning had been explained to me during the teenage attendant's explanation of the rules. What I didn't know was what the information Ranger had relayed meant for the game. It didn't make sense to me that you would avoid dying at the expense of your kill count. You needed those points to win.
"It means," Lester said, peering around the edge of the box. "He's up to something."
I rolled my eyes even though neither of them were looking at me. Probably, they didn't need to see the action on my face to know it had occurred, especially in this kind of setting when their already highly tuned senses were even more heightened than usual. They could just feel the vibe. "But what?" I asked, rather than point out how obvious Lester's assessment of the situation was.
"Don't know," Ranger replied silently, looking out the gap on the opposite side. "But we don't need to know what he's up to in order to lure him out and mess up his perfect respawn score.
"Especially now that I've found my secret weapon again," Lester added, waggling his eyebrows as he grinned at me. "So, here's my plan."
We spent a few minutes going over Lester's plan and preparing for different events that might occur to disrupt it, then we all climbed down from the shelf and, as a group, began scuttling through the warehouse, keeping a look out for anyone from Cal's team, but especially Bobby. With Lester and Ranger beside me, I managed to rack up a few more kills for my score, but as we were sprinting through the cross roads, aiming to find shelter before Ghost's chest plate turned green again after we shot him in the previous aisle, I tripped over my own feet like the klutz I was, and landed on my knees out in the open. I cried out as the impact sent vibrations through my newly healed leg.
"Shit," I heard Lester curse, doubling back to where I'd fallen, Ranger right on his heels. "Are you okay?"
"My leg," I groaned, wincing as I tried to shift off my knees and stand up.
"The one you broke?" he clarified, and I nodded, silently accepting his help as he scooped me up from the floor. Lester shared the briefest look with Ranger over top of my head, which was clearly all the communication they needed on the matter, because they nodded simultaneously parting way. Ranger disappeared back the way we'd come, probably in search of Bobby, or a team-mate who could locate Bobby. Lester carried me the rest of the way through the crossroads then found a well-protected corner we could hid in to wait. He set me on my feet next to a low box we'd set up earlier for me to sit on and sent me a wink and a grin before moving to keep watch.
Everything was going according to plan. Bobby would not be escaping this game without having respawned at least once.
When Ranger and Bobby were approaching, Lester gave me the signal to resume acting like I was injured. The plan was that Bobby wouldn't make it as far as me without first being shot, but knowing the worry wart he was, he'd be looking for me to make sure I was all right, so I had to keep up appearances that I was at least mildly bothered by my leg.
I heard a murmured conversation, letting me know that Ranger and Bobby had arrived, and waited for the sounds of outrage that would indicate that Bobby had been shot as a precaution before being allowed anywhere near me. Ranger had suggested the possibility of continuously shooting him every time he respawned if he insisted on seeing for himself that I was all right once the plot was revealed, so that he wouldn't have a chance to shoot one of us in retaliation. The outrage never came, though, and when Bobby appeared in my small, secluded corner the light on his chest plate was still green.
"Hey, Boo Boo," he greeted, his eyes soft and assessing as they quickly darted from where I was lightly rubbing my thigh to the furrow of my brow. "How's the leg?"
"How did you get past Lester and Ranger without being dead?" I asked, letting my act drip some as suspicion began to trickle through my consciousness.
"They let me pass," he said with a shrug. "Ranger said you took a tumble, and your leg was hurting?"
I nodded, even as my brain protested. This wasn't the plan. Bobby was never supposed to get this far. Had they decided to let me do the honours instead? If so, it would have been nice to be give a heads up on that front. "It's a lot better now," I explained, adjusting my hold on my gun as subtly as possible so as not to draw his notice. If it was up to me to shoot him and ruin his respawn record, then I needed to be ready for the first opportunity that arose. "I think I just jarred it."
He was directly in front of me now, kneeling down to be closer to my supposed injury, but made no move to perform a physical examination. Alarm bells were ringing loud and clear in my head, now, as I looked toward where Lester had been standing guard, hoping to get some indication as to what he wanted me to do, only to find that neither he, nor Ranger, were visible. What the fuck? Had I been double crossed by my own teammates? So much for being a secret weapon. I was feeling more like a pawn in their game.
Returning my gaze to Bobby, I was unable to prevent an audible gasp from leaving my lips as I caught sight of the object he was holding toward me, glimmering in the coloured lights from our chest plates. "What the-" I croaked, but my throat had gone dry, preventing me from finishing the rather crude question I'd been about to ask.
"Will you marry me?" Bobby asked when I eventually dragged my gaze away from the ring he held all the way back up to his face.
I have no idea what came over my brain at that point, but all I managed to stammer out by way of reply was, "What… what about my l-leg?"
A cocky grin spread over his features. He really did have a knack for discombobulating me. "Ideally, I'd like to marry all of you," he pointed out. "Legs, arms, head, spleen and any other body parts you can think of. I was king of thinking of it as a package deal, but if your leg requires a separate proposal and ceremony, I'd be happy to oblige."
I didn't know if I should roll my eyes, blink in confusion or try to get my suddenly parched mouth to work so I could clarify my question. In the end, I opted for all three. Unfortunately, though, I attempted all three actions at the same time, so it probably just looked and sounded like I was having a fit.
"No," I eventually managed to say. "I meant, aren't you going to make sure my leg is okay?" Why was I even attempting to keep up this farce of a deception plan? Bobby was legitimately proposing to me right now… Actually, come t think of it, maybe that was the whole reason I was clinging to the plan, because I needed time to process the fact that Bobby wanted to marry me. I needed a few moments to let that knowledge sink in and to contemplated what that meant for me. For the future of our relationship. Was I ready to tie my life to his? I'd had bad experiences with marriage and engagements in the past, but with Bobby…
"I know the injury is bogus," he assured me. "Lester and Ranger told me."
"What? But-"
"All I had to do was tell them about this," he said, lifting the ring a little higher. "And they let me know that you were fine and waved me through without protest." He said nothing for a moment, allowing me the time I needed to come to grips with the situation. I could feel his gaze watching me, almost nervously, not that I could blame him. I'd been very open about my stance on marriage and proposals where I was to be involved in them. I honestly would have been happy living with Bobby for the rest of my life as we were, but was that enough for him?
Everything I'd learned about him this last year had informed me that he was a sensitive soul who had always been particular about the women he shared his life with. He wasn't satisfied by one night stands or even short flings. He needed a soul connection, and the evidence would point to the fact that he'd found it with me. I couldn't deny the way I felt about him either. He saw me for who I was, didn't push me to be something I wasn't. His every action was infused with a level of love, care and commitment I wouldn't have thought possible in my wildest dreams. It was endearing, and addictive and I couldn't imagine what my life would be like without him in it. I loved him, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, so if getting married made him happy, I was willing to give it a shot.
The decision must have been clear in my expression, because the moment I made my mind up, Bobby took in a lungful of air. "I know you have your reservations about marriage," he said, using his free hand to grip mine where it was still frozen in the place on my thigh. "But I hope I can help you realise that the past does not dictate the future. I'd be deeply honoured if you would allow me to be your husband."
And somehow, that was the exact right thing to say to convince me. It was a small language change from the usual way people asked it, but offering himself up as my husband rather than asking for me to become his wife turned a key in my heart, to let him through the final barrier I'd been keeping locked away. "Yes," I choked out.
He didn't waste another second before slipping the ring onto my finger and pulling me into a bone melting kiss. Somehow, by the time we pulled apart several minutes later, gasping for air, we were both on our feet. I went to rest my forehead on his shoulder, needing a minute to get my heart rate back under control, but he shifted further away, whipping his laser gun up so that it was pointed squarely at my chest and pulling the trigger before I could react.
"Son of a bitch!" I exclaimed, as my light went red. "Is this really how you want to start off our engagement, Brown?"
He shrugged, grinning from ear to ear as he backed slowly away. "By all accounts, this has all gone exactly the way I planned it."
I stalked after him. "What do you mean? How much of this did you plan?" Surely our fake injury plot was just a convenient time for him to pull out the ring. He couldn't possibly have known that I would team up with Lester and Ranger to get him! It was just a coincidence.
"All of it," he grinned, continuing to take slow steps away from me, leading me out of the corner we'd been hidden in. "It was all a part of my proposal plan."
"It was part of your proposal plan that I re-injure my leg during a game of laser tag?" I questioned.
"No," he assured me, shaking his head slowly even as the twinkle in his eye increased. "It was part of my proposal plan that we would end up on opposite teams, I would lay low for most of the game, Lester would convince you to fake an injury to lure me out, guard you while someone went to find me with the intention that I would be shot upon arrival, but really they're all in on the plan and let me pass without protest of combat so that I could ask you to be my wife."
Narrowing my gaze at him, I questioned, "What if I'd actually injured myself."
"Lester would have given me the predetermined code word," Bobby said nonchalantly, swinging around a corner backwards. It was all utterly unreal, but I should have been so surprised, the men were masters of strategy. They could manipulate any situation into their favour.
"They were really all in on it?" I asked in wonder.
Bobby's grin hadn't faded one bit, but he did pause a few yards from the crossroads. "Yup," he said, looking extremely proud of himself as he popped the 'p'.
I caught sight of Lester and Ranger on the other side of the crossroads, miming emphatically at me behind Bobby's back. It didn't take a genius to know what they wanted me to do. In a flash, I'd shot a laser at my fiancés chest, thereby ending his streak of not respawning.
"Ohhhhhhh-ho-ho-ho," Bobby laughed, shaking his head as he took in the red light on his chest. "You better run, Boo Boo. Because I have a bunch of lasers with your name on them."
"Not if I get you first," I teased, quickly closing the gap to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
His free hand came up to rest on the small of my back, preventing me from backing away as quickly as I would have liked, a stalling tactic. "You caught me off guard once," he intoned. "I'm not going to let it happen again. I've spent most of the game hiding in the corner and only managing the occasional kill. I have a lot of ground to catch up and I won't hesitate to-"
His words cut off as I whirled out of his arms, shooting him again just as the lights on his chest turned green. It appeared I had rendered him speechless as he stared down at his chest, now glowing red in the dim lighting. A series of unintelligible noises escaped him as he attempted to come to grips with what had just occurred.
"You forget who's been covering my guns training," I pointed out calmly, giving him a wide birth as I passed through to the crossroads. "I've gotten very good as seizing opportunities like this." Grinning from ear to ear, I blew him a kiss and sprinted across the way to where Lester and Ranger were both practically falling over each other with laughter. "Love you, Care Bear!"
Following the completion of Sink or Swim in the next week (fingers crossed) I will be stepping back from the fanfiction community for a while. I have, over the last few months, received increasing amounts of negative feedback for my stories, some of which border on being personal attacks. This is not okay, and has been affecting my mental health, so although I have more stories to tell, I will not be writing or posting them any time soon. I feel a great disappointment that it has come to this, given the love I have harboured for the site and the Janet Evanovich Fanfic community for the last 15 years, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, it is not possible to report anonymous reviews, so the only solution I can see is to remove myself from the situation. Thank you to those who have stuck with me throughout the years. I'll see you all for one last update once it's written.
