This is my response to the 'boyfriend-in-law' prompt on Facebook.
Boyfriend-in-Law
A persistent buzzing nearby dragged Stephanie up from a deep and dreamless sleep. She cracked open an eyelid but immediately thought better of it as the harsh light of day stabbed her retinas, making her groan and bury her head in her pillow. The answering groan, coupled with the realisation that her 'pillow' was, in fact, a firm chest, gave her pause, freezing her in place as she assessed her current situation and what she could remember of the previous night.
Girls' night, she recalled, furrowing her brow as the chest shifted and the buzzing stopped. She'd gone out dancing with Lula, Connie and Mary Lou, celebrating three whole months without a car death. Naturally there had been drinking involved. What's a girl's night without drinking? Once they get on the margarita train, there's only really one stop: drunkville, the end of the line. And when Connie and Lula were in charge of the drinks, it was an express ride. That would explain the rampaging bull inside the china shop that was her head.
But not the obviously male form she was snuggled up against.
After another minute - or maybe it was an hour, she had no way of accurately keeping track of time with her eyes closed and her gut swirling as it was - of sifting through her hazy, malformed memories, and coming up with nothing, Stephanie was just trying to work up the courage to open her eyes and face the consequences of last night's decisions when the chest rumbled, words emitting from the attached mouth and removing any question of who was sharing her bed.
"Gotta get up, Beautiful," Lester croaked, his hand coming up to rest heavily on the back of her head, rubbing her hair none too gently to discourage her from falling back asleep. But there was no way she would have been able to submit to her beloved slumber with the images now flashing through her head.
Another groan escaped her. Why did she let herself get into these situations?
Lester had the gall to let out a chuckle as he squeezed her shoulder. "He'll be here in ten minutes," he pointed out, bragging about having already checked out a device with a screen and a clock, and obviously not fallen victim to the mother of all headaches in the process.
Stephanie pressed her face more firmly into Lester's chest, inhaling deeply and rolling her head from side to side as a kind of denial. She didn't want to do this. It was downright dirty. But there was no other way that she, or anyone else could think of to get the message through to him. "Can't I just hide under the covers for the rest of my life?" she asked, her voice croaky and mournful as she shuffled a little lower against his side, tugging the worn quilt up a little higher to illustrate her suggestion.
"I'm afraid not," Lester said, and she could have sworn she heard a smile creeping into his voice. "Because if we stay here together things will be much worse."
"I didn't say you had to stay with me," she said meekly.
Her head rose and fell with the sigh Lester let rush past his lips. "Have you changed your mind?" he asked. "If you have, you need to tell me now so I can slip out undetected before he gets here."
A moment's thought had her shaking her head, lifting her bleary gaze to the meet Lester's gaze. "No," she said firmly. "It needs to happen. Now. Today. I can't keep living like this."
Lester smiled, tucked a few frizzy curls behind her ear and sent her an expression that held equal amounts of pride and something she genuinely hoped was not tom foolery. He let her absorb the warmth in his eyes, the support he silently reminded was there for her, and lulled her into a false sense of security before unceremoniously throwing back the covers, revealing her scantily clad form to the chill morning air. "You better get your ass in the shower before I start getting ideas of where else it could be," he said, giving the part of her anatomy in question a light smack.
"Incorrigible," she muttered under her breath as she reluctantly rolled away from him, hefting sluggish muscles into an upright position.
"Careful on those big words, Beautiful," Lester chuckled as she disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. "We wouldn't want you to choke."
Steph just rolled her eyes and tried not to think about the morning's task looming over her head as she scrubbed her body clean and indulged in a few extra minutes of just standing under the hot water to contemplate how her life had gotten to this point. It was all Ranger's fault, she recalled. If he hadn't been so insistent that this was the way things needed to go, she wouldn't be faced with the problems she had right now. She wanted to be angry at him. Of course, she did. But she couldn't find it within herself. She still loved him, no matter what. She would always love him. And she understood why he'd set this particular course of action. But that didn't mean she had to like it.
It felt like cheating. It had felt like cheating from the beginning. But Ranger had insisted this was how it had to be. "This is it," she told herself out loud, shutting the shower off before the hot water ran out and Lester was forced to take a cold shower. "It ends today."
She gave herself a pep talk as she dealt with her hair, careful to keep her voice low so that the noise of the hairdryer would drown her out. The last thing she wanted was for Lester to worry more about her than he already was. He'd been a stalwart friend through this whole ordeal and she didn't want to repay his kindness by having him overhear just how anxious she was about calling it quits. She'd tried so hard to make it work, and he'd been there for her every step of the way.
Lester gave her an affectionate hip bump as he passed her on his way to the bathroom, pausing to steady her when she almost ended up on the floor from the force of the action. She hadn't been prepared for it, her mind whirling and distracted. "It'll be fine," he assured her, holding her gaze for a long moment before releasing her once more. "You deserve to be happy." A nod was the only reply she could manage, but it was apparently all he needed or expected from her, because in the next second he'd disappeared into the still steamy bathroom.
No sooner had she slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a comfy sweater than a knock at the door announced the arrival of the visitor she'd been dreading. She hoped Lester was right about this.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched herself to the front door, checked the peep hole - you can never be too careful, especially when you're Stephanie Plum - slid back the chain and opened the door with what she hoped was an 'I'm happy you're here' smile on her face. "Is that the cure?" she asked by way of greeting, reaching out a hand to take the brown paper bag he held, emblazoned with those familiar golden arches.
"Large fries, ten nuggets, three packets of ketchup and a large coke," he recited the order Stephanie had quoted to him last night. He handed over the bag as she stepped back to let him pass, kicking off his shoes in the entry and pulling her into him for a hello kiss.
It was... average. And Steph had to admit that her own heart wasn't in it. Had it ever been with him?
Over the past six weeks she'd gotten to know Paul and his quirks. He was a decent guy with a steady, respectable job. They got along okay, and he respected her need for freedom, didn't try to stop her from doing what she loved. Even her mother liked him, which, now that she thought about it, might have been the first nail in the coffin. Her Mom had liked Joe and look how well that had turned out: a breakup so fiery that his home had literally almost burned down. It was probably immature to use her mother's approval as a gauge for the kind of man she didn't want, but she couldn't deny that it was how she felt.
She sighed as they broke apart and lead the way into the kitchen. "I put the kettle on so you could make your tea thing," she said, gesturing to the stove where Lester had set the kettle to boiling before he'd hopped in the shower.
He smiled indulgently, squeezing her shoulder in a gentle thanks as she settled herself at the kitchen table with her food. He set her drink down in front of her and busied himself fixing his own drink. Steph had tried to make it for him once, but the grimace he'd been unable to keep off his face as he took the first sip was discouragement enough for her to stop trying. He was very particular about his tea.
"There's two cokes here," she realised when he stepped away from the table.
"Two fries and two packs of nuggets, too," he pointed out. And, sure enough, when she opened the paper bag there was a double order of the cure.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought you didn't eat this stuff."
He nodded, that pleasant expression plastered on his face like always. "I already ate. The extra food is for Les."
Her heart leapt to her throat, pulse kicking into overdrive before she remembered that she'd told him Les would be staying over after girl's night. It was fine. Everything was going exactly to plan.
While he worked, she gave him the cliff notes version of the previous night's antics. And tried to ignore the fact that the cure was not taking effect the way it usually did. Probably because the rebel uprising in my stomach wasn't caused by the hangover this time, she thought to herself with a shake of her head.
By the time Paul had prepared his tea just the way he liked it and sat down opposite her at the table, the shower had shut off and Steph could hardly concentrate on her boyfriend or the deliciously salty, greasy food he'd brought her. All of her attention was on the sounds of Lester in the bathroom. Tracking his progress. Mentally preparing herself for the coming confrontation.
"How was work?" she asked in an attempt to keep her attention in the room. There was no point in fretting over what hadn't even happened yet. Probably. Besides, she had to act natural.
"Same ol', same ol'," Paul sighed, savouring his first sip. He was the night manager at the Hilton Garden Inn in Hamilton. Stephanie had met him when she'd been liaising between Rangeman and the hotel on a distraction job they'd needed to run. He'd invited her for a drink in the bar, one thing had led to another, and she'd found herself with a steady boyfriend. It had all been going fine, but if she was being completely honest with herself, he was too vanilla. He was kind and caring, but his entire personality seemed to be that of the fancy gravy boat you pull out at Thanksgiving: old fashioned, trustworthy and erring more on the side of decorative than functional. He was a very perfunctory fixture in her life. More of an obligation than a true partner. They all had been recently.
At first it had been a welcome change from the chaos that had been her life in recent years, but as the time passed she found his lack of thrill boring. She'd always been an action and adventure kind of person, and while Paul encouraged her to do what she loved, and follow her dreams, he was more inclined to curl up on the couch and read than actually participate in those adventures.
"I've been on plenty of adventures," he'd told her, gesturing to his book when she'd invited him to ride along with her as she picked up her regular low-level skips. "I don't need to experience the trials and tribulations myself."
Another nail in the coffin.
Her bedroom door opened and closed, and she heard Les's footsteps approaching. Stephanie realised she'd accidentally zoned out of the conversation and hadn't heard a word Paul had been saying about the previous night's work. She tried to tune back in, but had obviously left it too late, because by the time she'd gotten her mind to focus on his words, they'd trailed off as Lester appeared in the doorway behind her. Paul's shocked stare was unguarded in a way she'd never gotten used to after so many years of dealing with Ranger's carefully controlled expression and Morelli's propensity to slide his cop-face into place at the first hint of something he didn't like the look or sound of.
Les dropped a kiss on top of Steph's head on his way to the coffee pot, which he'd also set to going before his shower.
Paul twisted all the way around in his seat to keep the other man in his sight. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.
"I'm Les," Lester replied easily, leaning his hip against the counter nonchalantly and taking a deep appreciative sip of the black gold.
Paul's head spun to look at Steph, who was careful to keep her expression as neutral as if having Lester stroll out of her bedroom in nothing but a towel to meet her boyfriend was no big deal. And really, if her boyfriend was worth even a fraction his weight in donuts, it would have been no big deal. She'd invited him to hang out with the Merry Men on a few occasions, but he'd always had an excuse not to. I have the late shift at work, so I need to take a nap. I'm going grocery shopping. I've just gotten to a good bit in my book. I'm not interested in the consumption of alcohol, nor destroying my eardrums with too-loud music. But you go and have fun.
THUMP. Another nail.
"This is Les?" he questioned, pointing at the man in question with a stiff arm and a bewildered expression.
Steph just nodded, taking the time to chew and swallow her latest mouthful before replying innocently, "I told you Les would be staying over after girl's night."
His eyes flashed, a hint of something dangerous she'd never seen there before. Could it be, he had some fight in him after all? "You didn't tell me Les was a guy."
He had a point, of course. Stephanie had regaled him with many stories of her Rangeman friends, but since there were so many guys, she tended to refer to them by name only, skipping any pronouns that would confuse someone unfamiliar with the group. And out of habit, the trend had continued when she was talking about only one Merry Man as well. It was entirely possible that she had never once referred to Les as a 'he' when talking to Paul. "I definitely didn't tell you he was a girl," she pointed out.
While Paul continued to stare open-mouthed at her, Lester crossed back to the table and sank into the chair beside her, slinging an arm over her shoulders and using the other hand to steel a fry. "I had fun last night, Beautiful," he said with that lopsided grin of his.
Steph smiled softly, leaning into his side just for a moment. "Me too," she agreed. Pushing the spare coke and the bag still containing the extra food over she added, "Paul got you the cure, too."
Lester retracted his arm and eagerly dragged the bag the rest of the way to him, practically sticking his whole face inside to inhale the scent of clogged arteries and happy stomachs. "Good man," he praised, pulling the items out and stuffing a nugget into his mouth. His eyes slid closed, and he nodded approval. "This is good," he said. "We like you, Paul. I think we'll keep you."
Paul's eyes widened even further, bugging out in confusion and what might have been rage. "We?!" he questioned, knuckles turning white where they gripped his mug of tea. "Are you – Is he – I thought – Did you - ?" He couldn't seem to get the full question past his lips, but he didn't need to Steph and Lester both knew what he was asking.
"Chill, bro," Lester said, stuffing some fries into his mouth and following it up in quick succession with a mouthful of coke. Say what you will about the Merry Men and their healthy habits, but when Lester decided to take time off from the whole 'my body is a temple' schtick, he went hard. "She's dating both of us. You're my boyfriend-in-law."
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Paul had gone from mild and affectionate, to bewildered and confused, and now to completely outraged in the course of only a few minutes. And Steph was sad to admit that it was the most emotion she'd seen from him outside of when he was explaining a particularly tragic backstory from his beloved books. "BOYFRIEND-IN-LAW?!" he screeched, slamming his mug on the table, tea sloshing over the side. "I am not-"
Steph groaned. Of course, he'd would do this in the most difficult way possible. "Lester," she warned.
He held up his hands placatingly. "Sorry, dude," he said around his latest mouthful of food. "I thought you knew. It's not like we keep it a secret."
Paul's eyes flashed, his shoulder's tense as he glanced between the pair. "Is he serious?" he asked Stephanie in a voice that made it clear he was trying hard to contain his reaction. And failing miserably at it.
"As a heart attack," Steph said solemnly. Her hands were clenched together under the table, her food abandoned as her stomach continued to threaten a reappearance of what she'd already ingested. Why did it never get easier?
"No," Paul said flatly, shaking his head for emphasis.
Steph's eyebrows rose. "No?"
"No," he confirmed. "I'm not accepting this. I won't share my girlfriend with another man. It's wrong."
Lester shrugged. "Suit yourself, man." He took another sip of his coke, his arm going back over Steph's shoulders. "But it's the lifestyle we've chosen. If you can't accept it, we'll have to keep looking."
Paul's face contorted as he sifted through a number of emotions before settling on enraged. "That's not your decision to make," he told Lester. "I'm not dating you. It's Stephanie's choice." His gaze move back to her to find that she'd lifted a hand to entwine her fingers with Lester's where they hung over her shoulder. He blanched. "Really?"
Steph just nodded. The final nail was tapped into place in the coffin of their relationship. It was over.
The next second the rampaging bull returned to Steph's china-shop-brain as Paul stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the scarred linoleum and causing her to wince.
"You're both sick," he seethed. And just like that, he was storming out of her apartment and out of her life.
Steph let out a pent-up breath and sagged against Lester's shoulder. He was still keeping a steady bag to mouth motion as he powered through his McDonalds breakfast, but the hand that was around her rubbed soothingly up and down her arm. He let her sit with her thoughts in silence for a few moments, coming to terms with the death of yet another relationship. She was never going to get used to breaking up with people, she decided. And really, if she had it her way, she wouldn't have to break up with a guy ever again. The problem was the object of her desire was out of reach.
"Well, that was fun," Lester announced, slurping up the last of his coke.
She shook her head and shrugged out of his embrace, twisting so she could send him a dubious expression. She wouldn't exactly call it a fun experience, but at the very least Lester had enjoyed himself, and they'd gotten the task done. "Boyfriend-in-law?" she questioned. "Really?"
He grinned like the overzealous puppy he was. "I saw it on a meme. When you asked for my help breaking up with Paulie I couldn't resist. I wanted to see the insipid excuse for a boyfriend show some passion for a change."
"You certainly did that."
Lester's nose scrunched up in disagreement. "I dunno," he said. "On a scale of one to ten, one being amoeba, and ten being Morelli, I'd say his reaction rates about a two for fiery anger."
"And passion wise, on a scale of dead fish to Ranger, he's a solid three," Steph added, a twinkle in her eye. Now that it was over and she no longer had to worry about him, she could relax and find the humour in what had just gone down. When she'd mentioned the need to put Paul to rest, Lester had jumped at the idea, eager to play out a little subterfuge to encourage the guy to leave. She might have hesitated, or flat out refused had she been sober, but of course, Lester had pitched the idea after the margarita train had already left the station last night. Drunk Steph had thought the idea was great.
Lester grimaced. "I'm glad you're feeling lighter with that dead weight lifted from your shoulders, but I really don't need to hear about your sex life with my cousin."
They both laughed, but the moment of mirth was interrupted by Stephanie's phone ringing out the ominous tone she'd set for when Tank called her. She held Lester's gaze for half a minute. Tank rarely initiated contact with her unless she was in danger. Casual conversations weren't his forte. He left that for Lester and Bobby, but always made sure she knew he was there for her as well is she ever needed.
"You need to get that," Lester said firmly when she remained frozen in place.
"Is there a threat?" she asked quietly. She really didn't want to deal with another crazy stalker right now, but she couldn't get the thought out of her head that it made sense. Why else would Lester turn up at girls' night out of the blue? But he shook his head, his eyes twinkling, and nudged her toward the bedroom where her cell was still ringing.
Steph ran. She'd wasted enough time debating answering the call that she was running out of rings before it would go to message bank. By the time she reached the bedside table, she was out of breath and her stomach was revolting once more. "Tank?" she panted, plopping down on the side of the bed before she fell over. "What's wrong?"
"Babe," came Ranger soft voice.
She said nothing for a long moment, sure she'd imagined it. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Wishful thinking because of the morning's events and her thoughts being stuck on him. But then it came again and she had to stifle a sob. "Ranger?" she whispered.
"It's me, Babe," he confirmed. "I'm coming home. Will you be there?"
He's alive! He's alive! He's alive! She chanted silently, finding herself abruptly on her feet once more. "Of course," she confirmed. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she stared across the room at her own bewildered expression in the mirror on the back of the door. A grin was pulling at her lips. Ranger is alive! "Of course, I'll be there. How long?"
"Should be an hour."
She nodded, already compiling a mental list of everything she had to do in that hour when his voice interrupted her thoughts, letting her know that he hadn't decided the conversation was over and hung up (maybe there was hope for his phone manners yet). "I missed you, Babe."
Her expression in the mirror relaxed as she let out her breath on a sigh. "I missed you, too." But he was already gone again. When she looked up from the phone Lester was standing in front of her, his hands tucked into his pockets. "You knew." It was a statement, not a question. It all made sense now.
"We got word last night," he confirmed. "Tank went to retrieve him, I came to find you, but I didn't want to dampen your celebrations. And then when you started complaining about how bland Paulie was I thought it might be a good idea to encourage you to break up with him to avoid complications once Ranger got back." His tone was apologetic as he held her gaze, searching for something in his expression. Steph wasn't sure if he'd found it or not, but after a moment the left side of his mouth kicked up in that lopsided grin of his and he added, "Plus I didn't want to miss out on an opportunity to help you break up with another dud of a guy."
Steph closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Thank you," she murmured into his chest.
*o*
An hour later she was in the foyer outside the seventh floor apartment, staring at the mirrored doors of the elevator as she paced back and forth like a caged animal. Lester had texted almost a full minute ago to let her know that Tank's SUV had pulled into the parking garage. Those doors should be opening any second now and Ranger would be inside. Ranger, who was not dead, or missing, or injured.
Actually, she thought, he could be injured. Their brief conversation on the phone hadn't covered how he was, just that he was coming home. Just the most important facts.
The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid apart. She didn't even wait for them to be fully open before she was racing toward him, throwing her arms around his neck and sealing his lips with a kiss. A moan escaped her at the feel of his body against hers, solid, familiar, and right. If he ever disappeared again she was going to hunt him down herself, and there was no guarantee he'd be alive when she was done with him.
"If you ever do that to me again-" she seethed, pulling back just far enough to meet his solemn gaze and discover that while she'd been engrossed in their kiss, he'd picked her up and carried her into the apartment, locking the door behind them.
"It won't happen again," he promised. "That was my last mission. My contract is complete."
She narrowed her eyes and poked him hard in the chest. "And so is mine," she declared, wriggling out of his embrace.
That brought a hint of a smile to his expression and she couldn't help but melt against him. She was so happy he was home. "That's right," he grinned, like he'd forgotten the agreement he'd gotten her to sign until that moment. "I made Tank stop by the Tasty Pastry on the way through town," he said, producing a bakery bag from god only knows where. "Why don't we get comfortable on the couch and you can tell me all about your dating escapades."
When Steph and Ranger had finally admitted their feelings for each other and their relationship turned serious, Ranger had made her promise that if anything happened to him, she wouldn't waste her life waiting for him again. Steph had tried to refuse, of course. She loved him with all her heart, and it hurt to think that something could happen to take him away from her, but she understood the reality of the work he did, and the way it played on his mind, so after their first official argument, she'd reluctantly agreed to do this one thing for him. The only thing he'd ever pushed her for.
Ranger had then shocked her by pulling out a contract he'd prepared in advance. He slid it across the table to her and made sure she understood exactly what he was asking of her: he went MIA on a mission and was out of contact for longer than six months, she would be obligated to put herself back on the market and start dating. "Just promise me you won't go to the cop," he'd added wryly when she'd stared up at him after reading it.
She'd told him he was a fool for thinking she'd ever go back there and scribbled her signature at the bottom of the page. Ranger had signed next to it, and then thanked her by carrying her to bed and making love to her all night long.
A short seven months later, he'd been called away into action, and twenty-three days later had been declared missing in action. Steph had driven herself, and the guys, mad counting off the days that passed without news. Tank had assured her that these things happen from time to time when Ranger had to go deep underground to complete a job. But as the days passed into weeks, and then into months she'd grown desperate for word of his wellbeing. She'd begged Hector to hack into the Pentagon and find out where he'd been sent so they could start a search. She dreaded having to act on the contract she'd signed.
Then Lester had arrived on the seventh floor one evening, grim faced and holding a file folder with her name on it. "My cousin's an fuckwit," he'd announced when she'd stepped aside to allow him entry. "But a promise is a promise; we gotta find you a date."
Stephanie snatched the bag from him and sauntered away, but not before she'd grabbed old of his hand to make sure he didn't fall behind. "I went out with no less than five guys while you were off playing ghost," she informed him as she pushed him down on the couch and settled into his lap, unwilling to allow any space to get between them now that she finally had him back. "And I swear, each one of them was more boring than the last."
"Should I get ready for a nap, then?" Ranger teased, causing her to chuckle.
"I said the guys were boring," she pointed out. "Not the story. You know me, I can't do anything without a bit of excitement. Lester kept things interesting by helping me break up with them all once I'd had my fill of their particular brand of snore-fest."
Ranger's arms came up around her waist as she pulled the first donut from the bag and took a big bite, relaxing against him a little more. "Start from the beginning," he requested. "Tell me everything."
And she did. She told him about Todd the frog farmer, Greg the accountant, Bryce the podiatrist, Leonard the single father, Keith the stripper (that had been a blind date set up by Lula), and finally Paul the hotel manager. She explained their flaws and the things they did right, and how she and Lester had broken up with each of them. When she explained about Lester and Paul being boyfriends-in-law he'd laughed out loud, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming her all over.
"Say what you like about that contract," Ranger said, against her hair. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat if I thought there was a possibility I might not come back. Your happiness is the most important thing to me."
Steph tilted her head back to meet his gaze with a smirk. "Yes, well, having Lester also sign a contract to promise to assist with my dating endeavours was a sure-fire way to keep things entertaining," she pointed out. She shifted so that she was she was straddling his lap, eyes darkening as she reached behind his head to remove the leather tie that held his hair. Now that her excitement and nerves had settled, and her tale was over, there was only one thing on her mind. "Speaking of entertainment," she murmured, leaning down to press her lips to jaw. "You may want to lose your pants."
Ranger was quick to comply, removing not only his pants by every article of clothing they both wore before carrying her to the bedroom and fairly tossing her onto the middle of the bed. He held her gaze, a fire blazing behind his eyes, for several seconds before crawling up her body. When he was poised in just the position she forever wanted him in, he laid a calloused hand against the side of her face, making sure he had her undivided attention – or as much of her attention as she could manage with him hovering so close to her entrance – before he spoke quietly, earnestly. "I don't need a boyfriend-in-law," he said.
The laugh that tried to bubble up from Steph's chest was wrenched away on a cry of ecstasy as Ranger pressed into her.
"Just you," Ranger added.
"Only you," she agreed breathlessly.
Thanks for reading!