All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich, I'm just playing.

A/N: The first time I heard Hell of a View by Eric Church, I knew I had to write a one-shot. As I was finishing it up, I realized that the Facebook "Don't yell at me in a language I don't understand!" fit in.

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RPOV

Lightning lights up the sky outside and I brace for the boom of thunder that will follow. Too many years of hearing explosions and slogging through jungles in these conditions makes sleeping through a thunderstorm impossible. It took a lot of meditation and practice to learn to remain calm, and even now it's hard not to flinch at the thunderclap that hits directly over the building.

Without permission, my mind travels back through skirmishes over the years, lives and deaths flashing through my mind like a garish nightmare of a compilation video. Backing away from the large picture window in the living room, I return to the kitchen for a drink of water. I'd like something stronger, but it wouldn't help. Alcohol never does.

Moving silently through the penthouse, I let myself back into the bedroom. My footfalls are silent as I approach the window, taking another peek through the curtains at the rain-soaked streets seven floors below. Lightning flares across the sky, briefly illuminating the capitol rotunda in the distance. Dropping the curtains back into place, I pull the lone chair in the room closer to the bed and sit, steepling my fingers and feel myself start to calm.

I was no daddy's dream, was not your mama's prayer

Another bolt of lightning strikes outside and light ghosts in from where I didn't quite get the curtains closed. The brief moment of electricity illuminates Steph in our bed like a beacon and after the haze fades, I wait for my eyes to readjust to the dark. When they do, I can make out her outline and I focus on her while centering myself after the thunder.

I watched her for years, long before I had the right to. I lived on the periphery of her life, providing support and encouragement when her family and the cop probably would've preferred I discourage her or disappear from her life altogether. Of all the things I've accomplished, providing Stephanie with the foundation to fly is probably one of my prouder ones.

But I was your first and your last ticket outta there

All those years, I convinced myself that the cop was a better fit for her; they shared a history and a community connection that would always tether them together. I was the interloper, the black sheep that encouraged her instead of grounded her. As time marched on, I lost more men, lost more of myself, and sought her out for comfort and redemption. I watched her take two steps forward and one step back; I watched until it was three steps back for every two that moved her closer to the person she is meant to be.

I'm not even sure when watching and living on the edge of her life stopped being enough. Maybe I was tired of watching lives from the sidelines. Maybe I finally got tired of living for everyone else as penance for the things I had to do. On that day, I'd had enough of watching Steph slowly fade away as she struggled under the weight of trying to be who the cop, her mother and this whole god damn town expected her to be.

I caught your wings on fire, when I smoked my Bronco tires outta that town

An eruption of loud chatter coming from the control room alerted me to a problem with Stephanie Blanking my face, I grabbed my keys and asked for her location as I headed for the stairs. I saw two fleet vehicles fall in line behind me as I raced out of the garage, and I wondered how bad of a scene was I going to be rolling up on.

As soon as I got to the corner of State and, Morgan I began looking for her curls; a quiet chant of 'let her be ok' thrumming through my mind. Tank, Junior and Zip silently fell into place behind me, and I wondered what they knew that I didn't. As we got closer to the mayhem, I could see Steph's little CR7 smashed up against a telephone pole and my heart began to pound. Firetrucks were present but there was no fire to put out, so they simply worked the scene. An ambulance pulled away and I fought a wave of nausea as they, too, appeared to be in no hurry. To my right, I could see Ram with a sour look on his normally impassive face and as the pounding in my heart started to overtake everything, I heard the cop and knew that she wasn't seriously hurt.

"Jesus Christ, Cupcake! How the hell do you always manage to fall into this shit? I got eleven phone calls about you on the way here. I have too much on my plate to deal with this..."

Ram broke away from the crowd to come brief me and I got my first glimpse of Steph. She was whole and unbruised and just...fuck. My heart started to settle as soon as I saw her. The longer he yelled, the more her shoulders hunched forward. The more he waved his arms while tearing her down, the smaller she appeared. Why did I ever think that asshole was a better choice for her?

"Steph was around the corner, running down a lead on one of her skips at the nail place," Ram said. "A guy in the jacked-up green S-10 ran the red light and swerved to avoid an accident but hit her POS broadside hard enough to shove it up on the curb and into the pole. She had nothing to do with it and didn't even see it happen." He stopped long enough to point at Morelli. "Fucking prick started on her as soon as he got here."

As I listened to Ram give his report, I watched Steph closely. I think we all waited for that famous temper to make an appearance, but it never did. She never even looked up from the ground. It hit me that I was literally watching the sass-filled Stephanie that I'd come to know fade away before my eyes and I'd been seeing it happen for years, but never had the balls to do anything about it. Watching Morelli, a man who claimed to love her, tear her down in front of all and sundry, I realized I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't let the person who meant the most to me and accepted me without reservation fade away like a dying star.

I heard the men behind me suck in a breath as I moved forward with purpose. The cop's back was to me, so he never saw me coming, didn't notice me until I was in their airspace. Stupid prick. I didn't slow my approach until I had Steph in my arms and my mouth descended on hers. Sound faded away as I finally gave in to what I always fought. She was mine. I was hers. It really was that simple.

The cacophony of noise swirled back around us as I broke the kiss and looked into her surprised eyes. "Come with me."

It's a heady thing, the way she trusts me without reservation. She slipped her smaller hand in mine, and we maneuvered around everyone else, my men forming a wall between us while Morelli yelled obscenities, threatening that if she walked away from him, they were through. She never looked back at him, didn't even give him a second glance.

I'm good at rollin' dice, no good at standing still

She said nothing as I drove, simply leaned her head against the Cayenne's headrest and released a sigh. As I hit the interstate and headed east, I grabbed her hand and twined our fingers together. She smiled a little but still said nothing; I saw the tension slowly start to ebb from her. She was asleep before we reached the city limits and a blanket of comfort wrapped around us as I drove to the beach. After the danger of the Red River Deli case was over, she asked me to take her to the ocean, but I couldn't. Not then.

She woke up in stages, her eyes coming open when I turned off the ignition. She sat up a little straighter, not sure of where we were. The house in front of her was not grand; it wasn't a professionally decorated showplace like the building on Haywood. It was the place she'd probably jokingly call the Batcave. It was where I went to decompress; it's where she'd find the bric-a-brac bits of life that told her who I am. She was the first person outside the core team that knew of its existence.

Steph blinked, in both confusion and to clear the sleep from her eyes. I gave her hand a quick kiss before I got out and walked around the car to open her door. As soon as she heard the ocean, she relaxed into me. No words had been spoken since we left the scene, but it felt like we had an entire conversation just by her leaving with me.

Once we were inside, I got us some waters from the fridge and led her to the deck. It was a gamble, giving her a glimpse of the beach when I wanted her full attention. Once we settled, me in a lounger and her between my legs, leaning back into me, I started talking. I gave her bare bones information about my military service, about starting Rangeman. I told her about me, so that by the time I gave her the intel she really needed to know she had a true grasp on what I was offering.

"I'm never going to settle down, never going to be able to offer the Burg life with a schedule, and a picket fence and kids. I'm never going to be able to give you a guarantee that I'll be home every night or that I'll make it home at all. All I can give you is me. My, heart, my fidelity, my support, my resources. They're all yours, Babe. They've always been yours, and they're here for the taking."

You liked the thought of chasin' life instead of dollar bills

She turned in my arms, moving her legs to straddle my lap as she framed my face in her cold hands before kissing me. When the need for air was too much, she broke away and rested her forehead on mine.

"If I wanted the Burg life, I would have found a way to make things work with Joe after all this time. I grew up there, but I never fit in. I'd rather love you for the time we have than settle for a life I don't want just because it has a guarantee. I don't need much to be happy. I just want you and everything that comes with you. I want a life that fits us, not a cookie cutter existence that I've spent my life running from."

We're livin' wreckless, nothin' to catch us, Baby, but the ground

That was it, our vows to each other. I carried her back inside and we sealed our union with gentle touches, whispers in the dark, and promises from our hearts. It wasn't traditional, it wasn't Burg acceptable, but it was us.

After two days away, we returned to an uproar. As soon as I turned my phone back on, I was inundated with texts from Tank alerting me to the cop making a nuisance of himself demanding to see Steph and her mother blocking the phone lines. Rumors were flying about Steph's faithfulness to the cop, and I had my first lick of regret. Not that we were together, but that I created a situation that left her standing in a mess.

When I apologized, she asked if I was standing in the mess with her. At my assurance that I was, she shrugged and said, "then everything's fine."

Unsurprisingly, the cop was in the building and causing a fuss when we pulled into the garage. Rather than avoid it, Steph squared her shoulders and stepped off the elevator into lobby, ready to do battle.

"Cupcake!"

"Stop calling me that."

"Stephanie—"

"Why are you here, Joe? You said it yourself. If I walked away, we were through. I walked away."

Morelli didn't know what to make of that and stood there with his mouth gaping like a fish. The men gathered around, though, were smiling as that sank in. Tank caught my nod, and I watched my number two struggle to keep his blank face. The drop of his shoulders said it all...Thank fuck I finally got my head out of my own ass.

The cop regained the power of speech, and Steph let him bluster for minute or two before she interrupted him. "We're not together anymore and never will be again. I'm where I was meant to be and who I was meant to be with. Feel free to pass that along to my mother so she stops calling and getting in the way of Rangeman business. It's time for you to go, Joe."

With that she grabbed my hand and walked us to the elevator. I managed to hide the grin until we were in the penthouse, and the happy squeal she let out when I grabbed her and tossed her over my shoulder on the way to our bed is banked in my memory. She chose us.

This ain't for everybody

It took less than a day to pack up her place and get her moved into our apartment. Morelli showed up as the guys were loading the final box into one of the Explorers. I held my tongue as she ignored everything he said about her, about me, about us. As she was climbing into the passenger seat of the 911, she gave him a searing look. "Your plate is clear, Joe. I'm not your problem anymore and maybe you just need to start ignoring the phone calls. I am. How I live my life is on me." With that, she shut the door on both the cop and their fucked-up history.

While her possessions made their way to Haywood, I drove us to the 'Burg and into the lion's den. Pulling up in front of her family home, she let out a sigh. "I suppose I can't hide from her forever."

My amused "Babe" earned me an eyeroll as she levered herself out of the car before I even got around to her side. Like with Morelli, she straightened her spine and marched to the door. Her mother and grandmother were standing in the doorway like twin sentries, but Steph didn't back down. It's like finally knowing where we stood gave her strength to fight the battles she had always backed down from.

Inside, her mother ushered us to the kitchen table, barely sparing me a glance. As soon as we were settled with sandwiches, the inquisition started. Frank and I remained silent, but I offered my support with an occasional thigh squeeze. Steph ignored most of it, offering only simple yes and no answers to a few questions while she ate. Once she was done, she pushed her plate away and plainly asked her mother, "How old am I?"

Helen's brow furrowed in confusion, uncertain of the reason for the question. "Thirty-five. Old enough to be past flights of fancy and causing gossip."

Steph's smirk brought a frown to Helen's already pinched features. "That's right. Thirty-five. That's old enough to know what I want and what I don't. I've let you dictate a good portion of my life with varying degrees of success. The next thirty-five are mine to live. Ranger and I are together and he's a much better fit for me. Accept us or don't. It has no bearing on our relationship or future. If people call and want a scoop, just tell them that I'm finally happy. It was Joe's idea that we could date other people, so he has no one to blame but himself that I chose someone else."

With a polite "thanks for lunch," and a goodbye nod to her dad, she scooted back from the table before looking at me. "Ready to head back to work?" We headed to the door, and I noted with some pride that she never looked back, never gave into a moment of doubt.

Ain't always heaven, Baby, this livin' on the edge

Things cruised along for a few months with us living in the bubble of newness. It was inevitable that we'd face a test, and probably fitting that it was due to another totaled car. It took some creative convincing, but Steph agreed to drive a fleet vehicle after the CR7 bit the dust. She still worked for Vinnie, still took more chances than I would've liked but I loved her for who she was.

My heart clenched when my phone alerted me that her Explorer went offline. Racing to the scene was old hat, but also new. I had more to lose now that I had opened up; I can't lie and say there wasn't a moment where I wondered if I had made the right move in tying us together. That thought was immediately kicked to the curb as soon as I saw her, soot stained and whole. Her foot was tapping a mile a minute while she watched the firemen douse the flaming SUV at the same time she ignored the pissed off homicide detective screaming in her ear. My life was more chaotic with her in the center of it, but it was also richer and finally full of color. Her car would have still gone offline; the difference was now I was free to walk up and pull her to me rather than watch from the fringes.

We both ignored the cop as we stood there, seeking comfort in each other. Back on seven after everything was taken care of, Steph took my hand, kissed my knuckles, and sheepishly admitted, "I think I might need to change the way I do some things."

At my eyebrow raise, she admitted, "Before, I didn't really care about the outcome of my messes. I mean, I cared, but I always had a thought in the back of my head that maybe things would be better for everyone if maybe I wasn't here."

Her voice was quiet by the end, but my blood ran cold, and my temper jumped to hot as I jerked my hand away from her. Images of all the times she got hurt or escaped crazy situations ran through my head and I clenched my fists in anger. I was fighting a losing battle before I gave in.

"¿Qué demonios estabas pensando? ¿Sabes lo que me hubiera hecho perderte?"

I don't know if it was my tone or the fact that I was yelling in the first place, but my brave and fearless Babe was in my face in seconds.

"Don't yell at me in a language I don't understand!"

We both stood there, chests heaving. I was doing everything I could to calm my racing emotions when she sniffled a little and asked if she could finish what she was saying. At my nod, she took a big breath.

"I didn't really care. Before. But I have too much to lose now. I don't want to look up from another flaming car and see the look on your face that I did today. I only want to make you yell out good things, like 'Oh, yeah! Like that.' Or, "Fuck, yes!'"

I should've been mad at her for making light of it; instead, I barked out a laugh as I pulled her to me. Color and chaos were the trade-off for not having to watch her walk away with the cop. We stood toe-to-toe; arms wrapped around each other while the adrenaline faded. My words were low and quiet, my weakness only for her to hear. "Don't leave me. Don't ever fucking leave me alone in this shitty world."

She nodded her head, and our first fight was over as quickly as it began.

You holdin' me holdin' you

There was a shift after that. She came on board as a contractor, doing our searches and using Rangeman resources to find all of Vinnie's skips; the men interested in working with her earned a separate fee, provided by her, for their help with the captures. It satisfied her need for independence and my need for her safety. The cop eventually moved on, her parents accepted me at their table for our once-a-month dinner in the 'burg, the men smiled a little more at the office, and my parents welcomed her with open arms.

A year. I've had a year with her as mine. A year of happiness, doubt, ups, and downs. A year of chaos and color. Another flash of lightning, and another rumble of thunder breaks outside. Steph lifts herself up onto her forearms and looks around for me. Seeing me, sitting in the chair and watching her the way I used to at her apartment, has her attempting to lift her eyebrow. Another round of thunder and lightning, and her face smooths into awareness and understanding. I'm chasing demons through the storm. No words are necessary as she lifts the covers, her ring glinting in the moonlight.

"Come back to bed." The strap to her tank top has fallen off her shoulder, her hair is standing out in all directions and her eyes are soft and sleepy. She's beautiful and everything I thought I'd never allow myself to have.

It's a hell of a view

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"¿Qué demonios estabas pensando? ¿Sabes lo que me hubiera hecho perderte?" According to spanishdict website, it's supposed to translate to:

What the hell were you thinking? Do you know what it would have done to me to lose you?