Ranger Reflects

oOoOo

Ranger's POV

Another day. Another explosion. You'd think that after all my vast soldiering experiences, an explosion would be easy to handle. You know, … so meh! It happens. Shit happens. We deal. We move on. We might actually have been the cause of said explosion.

But, this kind of explosion always makes my heart stutter and tighten with fear. Never in any battlefield or in any fire fight did I ever experience that kind of constricting fear, that tightness in my chest. And it only goes away when I can confirm with my own eyes, seeing her, holding her in my hands with my arms wrapped tightly around her, before I feel my heart beginning to calm and resume its steady beat. Checking her for injuries, as I take in the surrounds, always giving her the full body scan on my approach, while assessing her demeanour and her eyes. I capture her eyes. Her eyes tell me so much. A man can get lost in those blue eyes.

Being near her, touching her, feeling her, brings me peace and relief, especially knowing she is alright. And if she is not alright, just being there to help reassure her, reassure myself, that I am there to support her in any and every way I can.

Never would I refer to her as the damsel in distress. That is a role she rarely plays. Things happen. Weird and remarkable things that I shudder at the timing, her proximity to danger and, at times, the frequency of these explosions. Her cars have been vandalised, torched, blown up and fire-bombed. It's not that she is accident prone or anything like that. Likewise, her apartment was also a target of vandalism and firebombs and let's not forget the unwanted visitors in the form of reptiles, spiders, body parts, mobsters and kidnappers. It's not like she has a target on her back. She seemed to attract stalkers and psychos. Sometimes, as a bond enforcement agent, a bounty hunter, she just finds herself in the crosshairs of someone else. In addition to her car and her apartment, buildings and other premises have also succumbed to fire bombs and explosions. She was even stalked by a crazy violent man wielding a flame thrower. He was not the actual skip but was connected to the scenario which involved the a person who was under police protection, and a certain missing forty million dollars. In her investigations, Stephanie has encountered an assortment of really nasty, belligerent people who have taken offense at her by implicating their involvement with some of these crimes, either directly or by familial connections. On the other hand, she has such an amazing rapport with some of her regular skips who appreciate her kindness and respect.

Stephanie is resilient. She is tenacious and finds herself in some extraordinary predicaments. She has been referred to as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. She is not fond of that moniker. Although, she doesn't mind how some of her Merry Men, the guys at Rangeman, call her Bomber or Bombshell, endearments, just like I call her Babe. They are not said with malice or in criticism of her actions and deeds. It is quite the norm for us, military men as we are, to have acquired nicknames on our journey in life.

Uncanny as it seems, it amazes me how often these explosions were not her fault. Clumsiness and carelessness were not actually the cause. In her early days as a bounty hunter, she would find herself somewhat at fault because of seemingly reckless behaviour. In truth, it was lack of planning and considering the contingencies that were more at fault. She had a target, a skip who had failed to appear in court, and it was her task to bring them in so they could be brought back to justice, to appear before a judge for the crimes with which they were charged.

Many times, it was her association with her sidekick, Lula, that things went pear-shaped. Lula was reckless. Lula was impulsive. Lula was often the cause of these explosions, with her untimely reactive responses. I would even admit that Lula's volatile and hot-headedness provoked these situations. Provocative was Lula's middle name. However, like Stephanie, she is a survivor.

Enduring the relentless criticism and gossip from that part of Trenton known as the Burg, Chambersburg, was a regular part of her life. Her scornful mother was the worst offender, who often perpetuated the malicious rumours about her youngest daughter. In her eyes, Stephanie should lead the proper Burg life, give up her present job as a bounty hunter, get married, have children and live the life her mother had chosen for her. Joseph Morelli was favoured as the recommended husband material, because he was from the Burg, and he had a good job. No matter that Stephanie did not want this life. She was expected to conform, and obey. What would the neighbours think?

Morelli had expectations of her as well, not well-meaning expectations at all. Purely, they were self-serving and unreasonable. He insisted on her making changes. Give up your job. Discard any association with her friends, namely me, Ranger Manoso, and the men at Rangeman. Get married, cook his dinner to have on the table promptly at six PM, and pop out "Morelli spawn", as Stephanie so aptly put it, in a candid moment of utter rage at the contempt of the man. But, any changes to be made were a very one-sided affair. Hm, affair, a good choice of words. Morelli assumed that in his role as husband and prospective father, it was deemed unnecessary for him to make any changes. Helen Plum, nor Joseph Morelli, saw nothing inappropriate with that portrayal of Stephanie's future. But his reputation was renowned as a womaniser and he had more than one sidepiece. Would that change if he married her, or any other woman? I don't think so.

And Stephanie? She fought that depiction, not just because it didn't suit her in a Stepford wife kind of manner. It was crushing and demeaning. Her mother suggested working on the line, packing personal products, or that old chestnut, the button factory. Mind numbing work like that was not for Stephanie.

Deep down, I'm sure that Stephanie was aware of the consequences and she would be trapped into a loveless marriage, with no escape. The no escape clause is what kept Stephanie from pursuing that unchosen lifestyle. Because of this, she resisted repeatedly, and was not prepared to commit. Stephanie Plum was a free spirit and needed to fly. She was not like her mother, nor like her sister, Valerie. Saint Valerie conformed, despite having been divorced with two young children. Divorce is not acceptable in a Catholic household. The Burg was Catholic. Stephanie was also divorced, like her sister, from a cheating philandering husband, but he was chosen by her mother, coincidentally, The Dick. What self-respecting man calls himself Dickie? But Valerie's standing was redeemed by remarrying, albeit pregnant with her third child, the notion of which was quickly swept aside, and that he was Jewish. Tut, tut, Helen Plum. Double standards much? Providing grandchildren was a form of redemption.

Was Stephanie in love with Morelli? No. I think their relationship was based on fulfilling a need, and it was safe. Neither was at the point of making a commitment. Subconsciously, it felt wrong for her to take it any further. She seemed to think, or feel that she loved him. But it was not love per se, she was not in love with him. Everybody could see that. It was expected. Their mothers were poised to plan a wedding.

It was painful to watch. The going back and forth, the living together, the break ups. Then there was the farce of the engaged to be engaged scenario, were all indicators that it was not to be. There was no ring, but a pool table did make its appearance instead. Un-fucking-believable. Obviously, he didn't really want it either. Who does that sort of shit?!

I am no angel and I have a dark past. I also grew up in a Catholic family. I, too, am divorced from a time when I fathered a child from a one-night stand. It wasn't an actual marriage because I was shortly deployed. I married Rachel to give the child a name. In my role as a soldier I have done things while serving my country in the name of honour and peace. Some still give me nightmares but I have mastered how to deal with them.

Many women have been in my life, other than those in my family. Many women, but only in passing, to fulfil a need. I am a man after all. To be honest, I haven't dated. I used to hook up for a night of mutual pleasure but I was always gone before the morning. Without appearing conceited, because of my good genes, I don't have trouble finding a willing partner, as women tend to throw themselves at me. As much as that may sound enticing, I can assure you it is not. I am careful and selective and firmly believe in safe sex, so I always have protection. One silly mistake taught me that.

I have not been in a relationship. Plain and simple, my life didn't lend itself to relationships. I had a successful business, with offices in three other states, and I was still under contract to the government for missions, often being in the wind for months at a time. My hours are not regular and it is something that I have accepted without question.

Stephanie Plum was not one of those women who threw herself at my feet, quite the contrary, in fact. Since our first encounter at that diner so many years ago, she intrigued me. Why would a white bread girl from the Burg want to be a bounty hunter? Blackmailing her cousin Vinnie for a job as a bounty hunter brought us together. Her story further intrigued me with being practically destitute, living in a shitty apartment, her words, and no food in her fridge and her car just recently repossessed. Her apartment was a mismatch of dorm-like furniture. Having sold a number of appliances to help get by made her desperate. Mooching meals from her family got old, and embarrassing, especially once her mother was hell bent on changing her daughter's life, and wanting to take control.

See, that's was a main part of the problem. Her mother wanted to control Stephanie, for a better community image. Go figure. And Morelli? He wanted to control and manipulate her into his perception of a good Burg housewife. His family history was not a glowing one with a father who was a notorious drunkard and beat on his wife and his children. There were elements of that behaviour already evident with him. He was a nasty drunk and I wondered how that would perpetuate itself if Stephanie was trapped in a marriage with him. I shudder to think. Seeing and hearing the malicious and spiteful words that he repeatedly yelled at her made me want to remove him permanently off the planet.

It would have broken my heart to see that happen, Stephanie with him. Sometimes I feel that she is more a trophy to Morelli than someone to love. Since Stephanie and I became friends, Morelli has become more aggressive at her "disasters", as he refers to them, no matter that she may not be the cause of it. He just assumes. Walking into the TPD with her skip is met with disdain if she looks at all messy, muddy or covered in food. For someone who supposedly "loves" her, I found that hard to take. His remonstrations were always so public and the sneering put downs were very humiliating and insulting. Stephanie would stand there while he paced and ranted, waving his arms about. It was a pathetic performance and it frustrated the hell out of me.

That made me all the more determined to be on the scene first, to protect her, give her the support she deserves, regardless whether they were in an off or on phase. Pfft. All that on/off phase was just bullshit. But deep down, I was worried that one day she might just succumb to her mother's demands and his bullying tactics. It was gaslighting, without a doubt and it made her question her own beliefs. Together they tried to wear her down, almost alluding that it was meant to be, fate, a prophecy. Fu-uck! I call it bullshit!

Since our first encounters, giving Stephanie guidance and support, mentoring her, I realised I was concerned for her. I felt responsible and protective. Her bounty hunting rep was legendary, not always for the right reasons and they, the media and the Burg grapevine, mostly portrayed her failures, rather than her successes and good deeds. I made sure the word spread in the hood that Stephanie Plum was my woman, under my protection. It was a necessary strategy to keep her safe. Regardless if she was Morelli's girlfriend, the hood could see through that charade.

Our friendship grew. I called her Babe. She called me Batman. She saw me as some sort super hero. But, I am just a man. Yes, I rescued her so many times from some heart stopping situations. Stephanie Plum was special. My men knew she was special. She accepted them without judgment, despite the likes of Morelli referring to us as thugs and criminals. We were a threat to him and he knew I had an interest in Stephanie. Somehow, he was intimidated, making it a pissing competition. Pfft. I was not playing those games. He's an idiot. He can't see what's in front of him. He just takes her for granted in so many ways.

Stephanie Plum made me smile. Sometimes she tried to make me look at things from a fresh or quirky perspective. We didn't always agree, especially with her choice of meals. Hers were fast food, high in fats and sugar. She referred to mine as "bark and twigs". She conceded that she can't cook so she gets take-away food, frozen mac 'n cheese, Pino's subs and pizzas. We are polar opposites in that capacity, and once again it makes me smile. Teasing me about it being a temple day. She has a healthy and insatiable appetite, healthy in the hearty sense that is. When she eats, Madre Dios! She moans. She really savours and enjoys her food and many times I have found myself affected by those glorious moans and groans. Ay-yai-yai! I would eagerly love to worship at her temple. One night was all it took and I was hooked.

Initially, I toyed with her, kissing and making out in the alley beside the Bonds Office. Perhaps it was her feisty manner in that diner. Nah! I think seeing her handcuffed to her shower curtain rail stirred something deep inside of me. Madre Dios! She was a beautiful sight to behold. Wet, furious, feisty and naked. I do not need a photo to remind me. I have replayed that visual over and over in my mind, it's indelibly imprinted on my brain. Still one of my favourite Stephanie moments. But that was a huge mistake on Morelli's part at the time, while he was her first skip. Leaving her alone and naked in such a vulnerable state had me fuming, especially with the likes of that psycho boxer, Ramirez, who also had his sights on her.

After that first kiss, in the car park outside her apartment, with Ramirez upstairs in her apartment by the way, I was done. There she was, with just the charred registration tag and the plates of the Beemer, her blue eyes glistening with worry over the car, and I kissed her. Yes! Smooth move, Manoso! But she was so tempting and somewhere along the way, she had got into my head, under my skin, in a good way, and into my heart. She felt it too, and responded with just as much fervour as I did. Oh yes! Another sweet Stephanie Plum memory.

See. That's something I don't usually do. I started to seek her out, take the opportunity to be at the Bonds Office while she was there. Catching her unawares, saying she should be more aware of her surroundings. It became more than a game, it was a challenge. I told her I was an opportunist. I was mystified that she ended up reconnecting with Morelli after their not so nice past, in how he molested her as a youngster and taking her virginity on the hard, cold bakery floor. Worst of all, he had written about his conquest all over the bathroom walls and ruined her summer and reputation, while he disappeared and joined the navy. Fucker. I didn't find out those details until much later in our friendship. But, Stephanie evened the score by running into him with the Buick Roadmaster, breaking his leg. How she related that episode to us had me laughing out loud and all the Rangemen had a new respect for her. "Remind me not to piss Stephanie off," muttered Lester wisely.

Tsk. After pursuing her … was I a stalker? Maybe just a hunter, after all, I am a Ranger. Making those stupid disclaimers about not being relationship material, no rings but a condom would be handy. Madre Dios! How stupid I was to think I could get away with that. It was thoughtless and selfish. I was protecting my heart. Never before had any woman had such an effect on me. She was like forbidden fruit, and I desired her, more of her after our one night of passion. Such a magical night. She called me the Wizard. I smile again at that. How did I not see it? Everyone else could. Hector even threatened to take her away from me because she is the sort of woman who could make him swing the other way. Tank hit me upside the head a number of times. Lester told me to get my head out of my ass, or he would make a move to woo her. Stupid, for sure. We were already in a relationship.

I gave her cars. No price, Babe. And there was no price, if it ensured her safety and well-being. There were times I offered her work when her funds were low. Like her first experience with Tank, Les and Bobby with me, doing a redecorating job. "I don't like guns," she'd said. She had no idea what to expect … probably my fault in not explaining what a redecorating job entailed. It was a fun night, despite her freak out when Tank dropped a druggie out of the third floor window. Okay, it was just the landing outside, but she didn't know that. Another smiley moment.

I admired her alternative approach to researching her FTAs and how she made connections. Using local knowledge and family ties, making connections, was an advantage over us. She helped with our searches at Rangeman using our advanced search programs. She was curious and intuitive and liked to solve puzzles and mysteries. Once she had her teeth in it, she was like a pit bull, not relenting or letting go. Over time, Stephanie came to work at Rangeman, initially part-time as a researcher.

Relationship? Yes, we had a relationship, more than just a working relationship. Having dinner with her on seven was something I looked forward to. We had a special connection. I had never had that kind of connection with any other woman. No woman had ever been in my penthouse apartment, except for Ella, my housekeeper. With Stephanie, I could sense her presence. She felt a tingling sensation when I was near. I enjoyed being near her. It was mutual and comforting. We were more than best friends.

My need to see her upon the return from a mission became stronger over time. I would sneak into her apartment late at night, sit in that chair in her bedroom. Watching her sleep, listening to her breathing and making those sweet little sleep sounds was so soothing to my soul. She centred me. Yes, Stephanie Plum was special. I had an epiphany. I needed her. I wanted her. I loved her. I was in love with her. I know she was the same, just that we couldn't admit it to each other. We wasted so much time. It's so easy to see, looking back.

My thoughts are broken by a Stephanie alert. My heart shudders as I leap into action, Tank and Lester at my heels. Hal, Cal and Bobby went in a second SUV as we drove frantically to the place where her trackers went off line. Yes, I had multiple trackers on her, her car, in her bag, even in her shoes or a special pair of earrings on recent occasions, and, of course, there was the GPS in her phone. My need to know where she was, was driven by a need to keep her safe, a certain fear of losing her, but, above all, needing to protect her at all times.

As we rounded the corner, billowing smoke and a water spout from a damaged fire hydrant drew our attention. There she was, dripping wet, her car in flames with another vehicle which had evidently hit her side on. Madre Dios! It appears that she was t-boned and pushed into the fire hydrant. How she emerges out of these situations physically unscathed amazes me. Mentally too. She is so resilient, it is as if these car explosions are just a normal part of her routine and life experiences.

I run to her while assessing her bodily for any injuries. Her head turns and beautiful blue eyes greet me with a nod and a smile. I can see that she is favouring her right shoulder, so it looks like she does indeed have an injury. As I drag her away from all the spray, Bobby is ready to check her in his medic mode. I have to touch her, hold her, feel her warmth, reassure her … reassure me. I kiss her forehead and check her out. Tank grabbed a towel and a blanket from the back of the SUV.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am, now. Idiot came out of nowhere, ran the stop sign and cleaned my car up. Look at it! I have only had it a week. I'm sorry."

"Babe. Cars we can replace. You are so much more important, especially to me."

She smiled a radiant smile and her eyes glistened. Her eyelashes had fine droplets of spray and they seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. It was quite a magical and surreal image.

"But they couldn't get away fast enough, two of them, one was limping and the other had blood from a head injury. It seems that they were being chased by another car. Don't know what that was all about."

I hugged her firmly to me, then helped her to dry her hair getting the excess water out, since she couldn't do it one handed.

"Hey." I said reverently. "You look beautiful, even all wet like this," I whispered over her lips, my hands on either side of her face. I breathed her in and sighed, the heavy burden of fear now off my shoulder, replaced with relief. I kissed her forehead.

The first responders arrived. Thankfully Carl Costanza and Eddie Gazarra were approaching her. As she was explaining how it happened, Lester nudged me. Hector had sent video footage of the intersection from the nearby security cameras. Exactly what Stephanie said. We showed them the footage and they nodded in approval. Lester agreed to send it on to the TPD. The fire trucks had contained the water flow from the broken hydrant for the time being, but that would need more work. Stephanie's car was no longer ablaze. Tow trucks were ready to do their stuff.

"Boss," Cal rolled his eyes, tilting his head in the direction of a POS arriving on the scene at speed. Morelli stormed over, slamming his car door, with a look that was fit to kill. What is his problem? He interrupted Carl's interview as Eddie was writing down the details.

"What the hell, Cupcake?!"

Oh, he did not just say that. He grabbed her arm and she winced, removing her arm firmly from his grip with a glare. I stepped in and placed myself between them. Stupid fucker. It took all my self-control not to deck him right here for manhandling her. Eddie was shaking his head. Stephanie came close to me, absorbing my strength and warmth, her arm wrapping around my waist.

"Morelli? Piss off, man. This is not a homicide," Eddie said dismissively.

But Morelli being the idiot he is, ignored them and started in on Stephanie.

"What is it with you? Trying to break a new record? Look at you all dripping wet. You're a disgrace. A car accident, a burning vehicle and a fire hydrant damaged? Really Cupcake? You have truly outdone yourself on this one," he sneered.

He drank from a pocket bottle of Maalox before going on. Stephanie just ignored him and finished making her statement with Carl and Eddie. Lester, Cal and Hal had her covered on all sides. We were in protection mode.

I folded my arms and stared at him, daring him to reach out for her again, Tank mirroring my stance beside me. We made an intimidating front. I am so sick of his treatment of Stephanie. How dare he treat her with such contempt. It's obvious even to the lamp post right there that she was not the cause of this accident. Pfft! Some detective.

Bobby took her over to the EMTs and they strapped her shoulder up. Hal and Cal covered her while she put on a dry t-shirt which Lester had fetched from the SUV. She tied it at the front in a cute sexy way. All the while Morelli started his pacing Cupcake rant, waving his arms in apparent frustration. Some of the bystanders were gawking at him and shaking their heads at his pathetic performance. And, as usual, it was about himself. How she embarrassed him. She should get a new job as she was incompetent at this one. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Before he could continue, Tank made a command directed at him.

"Officer Morelli! Will you shut the fuck up?! We've heard it all before. It's not about you. Get over yourself."

Heh, heh. Nice touch Tank, with the Officer part!

Stunned by Tank's forceful interruption to his Cupcake rant, it achieved the break we all needed. Costanza and Gazarra had finished with Stephanie, patting her arm reassuringly. They too needed her to be safe. She has this amazing effect on all the people around her, especially the men in her life. Moving over to Morelli, they had a few quiet, yet firm words with him, which he chose to ignore with a nasty scowl. Asshole. Making their way to the bystanders they then took statements from some of the witnesses.

Stephanie walked over to me into my welcoming arms, enjoying the hug and nuzzling her face into my chest, humming contentedly. It felt so good, even in her wet and bedraggled state.

Morelli started up again causing her to sigh loudly.

"Joe. Just shut it. You really are clueless! I don't want to hear your bullshit drivel. Go home. I don't give a damn what you think. You are nothing to me. For a detective, you sure did a lousy job on reading the scene of conflict here. Typical."

She turned away, ignoring him completely, and smiled at the guys as they checked her status. Luckily, her shoulder was just a strain and all it would need was some rest and physiotherapy. They were visibly relieved. Cal organised a flatbed to cart away her car remains, checking with the TPD personnel first. Hal had videoed the whole scenario, including the pathetic rant.

Morelli wasn't going to be cast aside like that it seemed. Stupid ass. So, I felt compelled to intervene before he wound himself up into a new frenzy. I'd had enough of his disparaging and untruthful nasty remarks.

"You know, Morelli. You need to move on. Stephanie does not owe you an explanation. You are out of line with your offensive remarks. I do not like your disrespect for my wife at all. Do not call her Cupcake anymore. Her name is Stephanie, Stephanie Manoso."

He stared at me, incensed that I dared to tell him what I thought. Yeah, he was jealous as hell, yet still he felt compelled to express his opinion, unwarranted as it was.

Three, two, one. Yup.

He nearly gagged when he heard the "my wife" part and my emphasis on Manoso. Stephanie smiled sweetly, taking the opportunity to show off her rings and both our wedding bands. Yep. That really nailed it. Perhaps he didn't know. Pfft. Not likely. The Burg must be slipping. Perhaps he was in denial. Whatever.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew he had blown the best thing that ever happened to him. He looked a mess. Self-inflicted.

"You know. You never deserved Stephanie. You blew it, so many times, and lost your chance with her, forever. She is a wonderful woman who deserves respect. Some women are ONCE IN A LIFETIME type of females. After Stephanie, there is no upgrade."

I had said more than what I wanted to say to that stupid asshat. But those final words I said with a heart full of love. I took her hand, kissed her rings and pulled her into my side. I am the luckiest, happiest man.

He skulked off like a defeated man.

I am just so glad I finally realised and made up my mind to capture her heart, woo her and make her mine. We dated and things moved very quickly. Meeting my family was wonderful, since they had heard all about Stephanie already. Her family? Frank Plum was very welcoming, shaking my hand warmly, "Never liked that Morelli boy. He was not the one for my Pumpkin." And her grandmother was delighted, ecstatic in fact. Helen Plum? She was tight-lipped and very disgruntled and things went downhill from there. Consequently, Stephanie and I left early because Helen went on and on about "poor Joseph" and "What will the neighbours think? Why me?". Frank and Edna were giving her a piece of their minds and calling her on her disgraceful behaviour. She was already three sheets to the wind.

It was the best thing that ever happened to me, finally taking the advice of my men and opening my heart and saying the words. Stephanie didn't even hesitate when I proposed to her. Sitting in the car on a surveillance, chuckling at Stephanie's usual fidgeting after the first fifteen minutes. She looked at me, slightly agitated and slightly miffed, blowing a stray curl off her forehead.

"What?" she asked with a bit more edge than she had intended, chewing her bottom lip in remorse. I grinned as I came closer.

"You know what," I replied conspiratorially. "I don't care if the punk doesn't make a show."

Wide blue eyes stared at me in disbelief.

"But … but we have spent all this time …."

I smiled indulgently, my finger on her lips, silencing her instantly.

"Fifteen minutes, Babe. I'd rather think about other things."

"Like?"

"Well, you moved out of your crappy apartment, and we are living together, in a committed relationship."

"Hm, and? … Or is there a but?" she asked tentatively.

"No buts about it. I want more." I couldn't help my wolf grin appear. "I want it all. All of you. You see, I have this lump in my pocket here," and her eyes followed where my hand patted the pocket on my Rangeman jacket. I pulled out the little velvet box.

"Marry me, Babe. Stephanie Michelle Plum, I would love to be your husband and you be my wife. Not just someday. Now. Forever."

"Okay." She smiled mischievously.

"Okay? Is that all you have to say?"

"It's kind of funny, you know. It must be something to do with the Rangeman jacket design. I seem to have a lump in my pocket here, too."

I threw my head back and laughed out loud.

"Ranger? Carlos. Ricardo Carlos Manoso, will you marry me and be my husband so I can be your wife?" as she too handed me a velvet box.

"Okay." Throwing back her flippant answer made us both laugh. She was planning to propose to me while I was getting the nerve to do the same, trying to find the right moment. I decided, now. Now was the right moment.

"Yes, Carlos."

"Yes, Stephanie."

We sealed our betrothal with a very long passionate kiss.

I speed dialled Tank.

"We need a shift change," I said to Tank. "We'll be off line for the next two weeks. We're going to Atlantic City. I'll send you the details."

"About fucking time!" I knew what he was thinking.

Another very special memory with Stephanie. We were on the same page and moving to our happily ever after. I know, it sounds so soppy, but I can't tell you how elated I felt at that time.

We are in a committed loving relationship, beyond all my dreams. And it's been over a year since we decided to be an "us", together, taking our someday to a forever, every day. We were married in Atlantic City eight months ago, placing a small notice in the newspaper under marriages. Sweet memories.

Taking off her wet boots and socks, Stephanie removed her wet cargoes and quickly donned a pair of sweatpants, rolling up the overly long cuffs.

"Come on, Babe. Let's go home," giving her a kiss and walking her to my SUV. I helped her into the back seat and sat beside her, while Tank took the wheel.

"Home, Pierre, and don't spare the horses!"

His glance in the rear vision mirror was one of acceptance with a tad of indulgence at her cheeky command. He made a minimal shake of his head.

Home you ask? Home is where Stephanie is. Where we live is at Rangeman, on the seventh floor in our remodelled penthouse. We have a house by the beach near Point Pleasant, and another in Miami, but mostly we live here. Our friends are here. They are like family. Life is good.

oOoOo

The End

Thanks to Ms Margaret for challenging with this lovely writing prompt. It was so fitting for a Ranger Stephanie story, posted on Facebook by Jo-Anne Fiore.

The characters you recognised belong to Ms Evanovich. Any mistakes are mine.