Disclaimer: This is a Stephanie Plum FanFiction Story. All recognizable characters belong to the fabulous Janet Evanovich. I am just borrowing her amazing characters for a while.

Warning: Adult language, adult themes

Summary: A one-shot for the August Writing Challenge in the Facebook group Janet Evanovich Fan Fiction to celebrate the birthday of our favorite man of mystery. As Ranger's birthday approaches, he evaluates what is important. Babe

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Redemption

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Ranger unscrewed the cap on his canteen, poured the tepid water on his grimy bandana, and wiped off the worst of the greasepaint and jungle muck from his face and neck with slow, deliberate strokes. He looked around the make-shift camp that had been his home for the last two weeks and pondered how he'd ended up back in Colombia. With a swat at the deadliest animal in the world, feeding on his neck, he asked himself for the thousandth time what the hell he was doing.

Ranger swore the mosquitos were as big as hummingbirds and could carry off a small child with very little effort as he smacked another one that landed on his arm. They'd certainly made a meal out of him. Just one more irritant to add to a frustrating two weeks. If Ranger didn't know better, he might think god was reminding him he was an idiot for being here in the first place.

Ranger wasn't a fan of Colombia, which added to the question of why he'd signed up for yet another contract in another god-forsaken jungle. The last time he'd been here, he spent three days being tortured by some unhappy rebels with bad manners, a penchant for violence, and a fondness for pliers. This time had gone better. So far anyway.

Ranger stood, ignoring the ache in his legs and the stiffness in his neck and shoulders. As he stretched his arms above his head, his bones cracked, his muscles screamed, and he wondered if he'd gone soft. Lost his edge. His body protested from too many nights on the ground, too little sleep, and MREs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He missed his soft bed and Ella's cooking, but most of all, he missed a certain blue-eyed woman.

Ranger scraped a hand down his face. Since when did he get homesick? And when did Trenton become home? Ranger didn't have a home. He had a place to sleep, eat, and fuck. The only things a man really needed. That had worked just fine, until one day he met a curly-haired, smart-mouthed woman with eyes like sapphires, and his entire existence was upended. Everything he thought was a priority was no longer enough, and Ranger started to want things he had no business thinking about and definitely didn't deserve.

Ranger spent half of his waking hours thinking about Stephanie, and every night, he devoted his dreams to her. Some good, some not. He either watched terrified from the sidelines as she got hurt, powerless to stop it, or he woke up in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets with his cock hard as steel. He couldn't fuck another woman, not after he'd gotten a taste of her. He tried. It left him hollow and lonely. His hand was a poor substitute, so he found other ways to push the thoughts out of his mind. He hauled himself out of bed and beat the hell out of a bag or ran for miles until his need for her was just a dull hum and not a raging wildfire that veered dangerously out of control.

Ranger turned thirty-five in a couple of days, an age where most of the guys in this business slowed, but the good news, all those long, frustrating hours logged in the gym, honed his body into the best shape of his life. He supposed he should be grateful for that.

With a weary sigh, he ignored the answer to all those questions and dug through his pack, and turned on his SAT phone. Service was spotty, but the rain had cleared, leaving behind oppressive heat as steam rose off the ground drenched by a recent deluge, and swirled heavenward into a cloudless blue sky.

A video file dinked, and Ranger looked around, scanning to make sure he was alone before he clicked the icon. Lester's ugly mug came on the screen, and Ranger resisted the urge to roll his eyes as his heart skipped and stuttered and settled back into a normal rhythm. He'd been terrified it was bad news, that something had happened to Stephanie. Every time he went out of town, he tripled the overwatch on her, but he knew from experience the tension coiled at the base of his spine wouldn't abate until he was back in town and he saw her with his own eyes. Any of the men he employed could keep her safe, but they didn't love her the same way he did, and sometimes that made the difference between risking your life or taking a bullet for someone.

Their last goodbye had started the same as always. Ranger used her trackers to pinpoint her location and waylaid her without warning. He smiled to himself. He had to do something to keep the whole man of mystery façade alive. Stephanie had slowly whittled her way into his life, and his secrets, but a man needed to keep a few things for himself, and if he was honest, he loved the flush of her skin, and the softness in her eyes when he took her by surprise.

Stephanie had been in line at Giovanni's. He angled up behind her, close enough to smell her delicious scent and feel her body heat, but not close enough for their bodies to touch. One brush against her silky skin, and his control would snap right there in the deli line. Burg gossip be dammed. He would fist his hands in that silky hair, tilt her head back, and kiss her like a woman should be kissed.

Instead, he inhaled her essence and let it imprint on his senses, knowing it might be the last time. That was the thing with his life. One mistake, on distraction, and it could go FUBAR. One of the many reasons he avoided relationships. Distractions were dangerous, and no woman needed to suffer the grief and loss that was coming. Death was part of life, and Ranger made peace with that long ago. Most days, it surprised him he'd lived this long.

Ranger paid for her deli sandwiches and herded her into the alley, where he kissed her like a starving man with his first meal. In a way, he was starving. Steph was back with the cop, and that meant less of Stephanie in every way that counted. Morelli didn't approve of their association, and he made his displeasure known every chance he got. He thought Ranger was a loose cannon and a thug, but then again, that was only part of the issue. Morelli wasn't stupid. He saw the way Ranger looked at Stephanie. If the roles were reversed, Ranger would never let his woman around a man that looked at her the way Ranger did Stephanie. It was clear he wanted to devour her.

When Steph and the cop were in the on phase of their relationship, Ranger kept his distance, so Stephanie could keep the peace. If she wanted the cop, there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't have anything to offer besides chaos and a lot of nights alone.

There in the alley behind Giovanni's, she'd kissed him back, with something that reminded him far too much of desperation. Ranger recognized it for what it was. A goodbye kiss. Unease settled deep in his bones and stayed with him. He never let himself contemplate losing her for good, but he understood one day he would. He just thought there would be more time before she slipped through his fingers like water.

The kiss, coupled with the cryptic comments the week before, made his blood run cold. The last time he had been in an alley with her caged between his arms, Stephanie evaded Ranger's kiss and his wandering hands. In his defense, he didn't know the cop was back in the picture, but Stephanie set him straight.

"I'm with Morelli. No poaching," she admonished. "You've got the whole bad boy in need of redemption thing down, but that's the thing about you, Ranger. Redemption is not something you want. You like being a bad boy."

"Babe." Had been his brilliant reply.

He had been so shocked he didn't know what else to say. It wasn't that Ranger enjoyed being a bad boy, as much as he realized he was a bad bet. A dangerous job, a checkered past, and an uncertain future.

Stephane held up her hand. "Don't babe me. If someone is interested, you don't have to guess."

With that, she'd ducked under his arm and walked off, leaving Ranger staring after her retreating back, thinking something profound just happened. A shudder worked its way down his spine, and a knot of tension mingled with foreboding anchored in the middle of his chest, making it hard to breathe, and that fear mingled with self-loathing clung to him.

Despite her warning, he needed to see her before he left, so he tracked her to Giovanni's and kissed her with near desperation. The minutes evaporated like dew in the sun and he needed to leave or miss the transport. There was no time for explanations, and it wouldn't have mattered because he didn't have any to give. By most standards, they were mismatched, but the truth was they fit together perfectly. Each balanced the other, making a whole.

He broke from her embrace and told her to call Tank if she needed anything because he couldn't say what he wanted. How did you explain to a woman she was everything when you didn't have the words? Instead, he just said "babe," and left her standing in the alley. One hand clutched her deli bag, and the other pressed to her red, swollen, well-kissed lips. Ranger was pretty sure all the best pieces of him stayed in the alley with her.

Two weeks had passed and that knot of tension remained coiled in his chest, choking his breath. A thought nagged in the back of his mind. Something about her had been different, and he feared when he got back, she really would be gone. Ranger pushed away his thoughts just like he always did, stuffing them in a box and compartmentalizing. He had a job to do, and a company to run. Those were things he was good at. Emotion was not in his wheelhouse.

Ranger hit play and Lester's voice came across loud and clear.

"Hey cuz, since you're off saving the world one MRE at a time, and probably won't be home for the big three-five, we got together to send you some birthday wishes."

Lester grinned into the camera. "God, you're getting old. I think I even saw a gray hair. Of course, you'll probably be a silver fox like Tio Ricardo and all the ladies will love it." Les rolled his eyes for emphasis.

"Fair warning. Mama, Tia Rosa, and Abuela have a big party planned once you get stateside." Les turned uncharacteristically serious. "You need to do this one, Ric. Abuela, well, she isn't doing so good."

Ranger's heart lurched. Like so many things, he knew the day would come when they would lose his grandmother, but he wasn't prepared to let her go. She'd been his rock, his salvation. He was afraid without her calming influence and brand of tough love; he would come unmoored and bash about again. Ranger understood he possessed a dark side and a destructive streak. There were only two women that had ever soothed that beast. One was getting frail, suffering from the ravages of time, and the other he pushed away because she deserved more than he was capable of giving.

The video flickered and Tank's massive form filled the screen. "Primo," he grunted, and lumbered off.

Ranger had to smile. Some things never changed.

Ram came on the next, arms crossed, perfect posture. He dipped his head. "Boss. Happy birthday."

Ranger smiled mostly to himself. Ram was going to make a good leader someday soon. Smart, practical, and always in control.

Hector floated on the screen, giving him a birthday greeting in Spanish. Manny, Silvio, and Cal followed.

Ranger made a mental note to send Tank a text to check if Cal was on his meds. His eyes seemed to dart around wildly, which was usually a precursor to something bad.

Hal's face filled the screen, and he tugged at his collar as the flush on his neck crept up until the tips of his ears were red. Hal started singing happy birthday in the most off-key caterwauling Ranger had ever heard. He winced and held the phone away from him.

Bobby and Les came into view laughing, and Hal turned to them. "It's not really a requirement to sing happy birthday to the boss, is it?"

Hal huffed and shuffled out of the frame. Ranger needed to tell Les to ease off Hal for a while. The poor kid had never lived down, letting Steph use his own stun gun on him.

The screen fluttered once more and Stephanie filled the space. Ranger's heart gave a dangerous stutter, and his grip on the phone tightened.

She tugged at her plain white t-shirt and nervously licked her lips, which sent a jolt right to his dick. Ranger looked around and discreetly tried to adjust himself. How did this woman get him going like a teenage boy just by licking her lips? Scratch that, Ranger didn't want to know.

Her shy smile and bashful glance at the camera made every cell in his body perk up as fire started low in his belly and radiated out in a bloom of scorching heat. A familiar heaviness pressed against his sternum. Ranger wouldn't make it to thirty-five. He was about to die right here in the jungle.

"Hey, batman. Happy birthday."

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, as her soft voice filtered across time and space, and Ranger pretended like she was right in front of him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost detect the faint hint of vanilla and jasmine drifting through the air.

"I hope you're safe, wherever you are. Come home, will you?" Her gaze locked with the camera. "I miss you."

And there it was, the fatal blow that knocked the wind out of him and took him to his knees. Ranger's finger traced her face.

"Miss you too, babe," Ranger whispered.

The screen flickered out and Rodriquez, Chet, and Woody scrolled through. Ranger ignored the lump in his throat and the tightness in his chest as the video finished.

He built a solid team and a thriving business, so why was he out here in some god-forsaken jungle, being eaten alive by mosquitos and sleeping on the hard ground? Why wasn't he in Trenton with Stephanie wrapped in his arms, making those breathy little sounds that kicked him in the gut every single time? Because he was an idiot, running from the inevitable, that's why. He was out here attempting to fix shit he could never atone for while Stephanie played house with the cop.

The whir of an incoming helicopter caught Ranger's attention. They'd been out here for two weeks struggling to catch some low-life cartel boss, and so far, they had nothing. Not a single sighting. The helo came into view and Ranger watched as the pilot expertly landed in the tiny cleared space that the jungle strived to reclaim, kicking up grit and vegetation. Ranger ducked his head as the skids hit the undergrowth, trying to evade the worst of the debris. The blades whirred down, and surprise widened his eyes when he got his first good look at the occupants.

The petite, raven-haired mercenary that was far more dangerous than any man in the camp sat behind the controls. Zipped tied to the handle above the door was the cartel boss.

Ranger crossed his arms over his chest and watched from behind the mirrored lens of his aviators as she did her post-flight shutdown, pulled off her headset, hauled her quarry out, and shoved him to his knees in the mud. The team leader strode into view. Tall, lanky with freaky amber eyes that reminded Ranger of a wolf, he stalked towards the woman, as anger vibrated off of him in waves. His terse words were too soft for Ranger to overhear, but the grim set to his mouth and clenched jaw said he wasn't happy. He made a sweeping gesture and ran his hand through his dark hair, a gesture Ranger recognized. One he had made a thousand times when Stephanie had done something reckless and put herself in danger, taking about ten years off Ranger's life.

The raven-haired woman tilted her shoulder in a bored shrug and walked off, as the team leader clenched his fists and shot a look heavenward, no doubt looking for patience. Ranger knew that feeling well.

"Manoso!" the team leader barked.

"Yo."

"Pack your gear. I need you to transport this piece of shit to D.C. Wheels up in thirty."

"Good copy."

And just like that, Ranger was going home. Happy birthday to him. He shoved his gear in his rucksack, all the while hoping it wasn't the scary chick that would fly them out of the jungle. He owed her for getting the job done and ending this mess, but she scared the shit out of him.

Twenty hours, one helicopter ride, one cargo plane, and three hours of useless debriefing with a bunch of government drones, Ranger crossed the city limit into Trenton. The ache in his chest pulsed and tension knotted at the base of his spine. He stunk like jungle decay, sweat, and desperation. What he needed was a shower and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Get his head screwed on straight. Instead, he found himself silently picking the lock and slipping into Stephanie's apartment.

He just needed to see her, and then the fear would ease, and life would get back to normal. Whatever that looked like. Part of him thought she would be at the cop's house, but as he eased into the living room, he felt her presence like a physical touch. The cool, still air washed over him, soothing his nerves. Rex was running on his wheel, and stopped to check him out before resuming his race to nowhere.

Ranger's boots were silent as he made his way down the hall and eased into her bedroom. The streetlight cast a faint glow, and his eyes adjusted to the dimness. Stephanie clutched a pillow to her chest, and her dark hair haloed out around her, reminding him of an angel. She was a vision. And she was wearing his t-shirt. The corners of his mouth tilted up, and a wave of possessiveness washed over him like a raging river, almost knocking him on his ass.

He sat down on the chair across from the bed, and rested his elbows on his knees, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing, and letting the tension ease from his cramping gut.

Sensing his presence, she snuffled and slowly came awake, blinking to clear the sleep.

"Ranger." It wasn't a question.

"Babe," Ranger's voice was soft and hoarse. He wanted to pretend it was because he needed sleep, but he knew better.

"You're home."

Stephanie sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed as his eyes tracked the creamy expanse of her bare skin. A broad smile graced her face, and her gaze flicked to the bedside clock. The readout showed two thirty-two in the morning. She opened her arms and motioned him to her.

For the first time since he left her in that alley, Ranger's lips tipped up into a genuine smile. He dropped to his knees in front of her, and she pulled him in for a tight hug, letting his head rest against her chest. The steady cadence of her heart unknotted the coiled fear along his spine, and for the first time in two weeks, he could breathe. He inhaled her familiar scent and exhaled a sigh.

She kissed his forehead, and he cupped her face and pulled her to him until his lips brushed hers. Ranger knew he was a bastard, but he didn't care if he was poaching, because she belonged to him, not the damn cop. He didn't ask about Morelli and she didn't push him away. She did the opposite. That perfect, breathy sound he loved so much escaped from her parted lips. Her hand gripped the nape of his neck to anchor him in place, and her tongue pushed past his teeth.

Endlessly tender and sweet, filled with promise and laced with regret, she kissed Ranger like she was trying to erase the past. Heaven and hell wrapped into a single kiss. The darkness, the longing, the wreckage all laid bare. He was home.

His hand slid up her bare thigh and gripped her hip. She pulled her mouth from his, and Ranger stifled a groan. She wrinkled her nose, and he realized just how bad he smelled. He'd gone nose blind to the stench hours ago.

"Want a shower?" Stephanie hedged and Ranger smile against her lips.

"That bad?" He teased.

"Kind of," Stephanie admitted, causing Ranger to chuckle.

"How long are you staying?" she asked.

"Forever."

It was out of his mouth before Ranger realized he'd spoken out loud. The surrounding air stilled as his bold admission sat in the space between them strobing, and sucking all the oxygen out of the room. They stared at each other and her smile faded. Worry pulled at the corners of her mouth and her brow furrowed, no doubt wondering if she had heard him correctly. She waited for the qualifier he always threw in the mix. The silence stretched out beyond the point of retraction. Too far to laugh it off, or hide behind a joke. It was impossible to pretend it was only a stolen moment that would recede with the morning light. There was nowhere to hide from this kind of honesty.

"You know what today is?" Ranger asked.

Confusion filtered over her face for a second. "Your birthday," Stephanie hedged, picking up on his tone.

"Among other things."

A sharp breath hissed in through her teeth as Ranger stood and headed to the bathroom.

"I'll take a shower, we'll get some sleep, and talk in the morning. Go to the bluebird diner for breakfast."

Ranger thought it was fitting to bring things full circle. That was where his fate had been sealed. The minute he spotted her in the diner, he knew, and no matter how far he went or how fast he ran, there was no escaping the inevitable. He figured the diner was the perfect place to learn Stephanie's answer. Was it him or the cop?

Stephanie blinked slowly, like she might be in shock. Ranger understood the confusion. He was a little in shock himself, having blurted out something he never intended to utter out loud. Now that it was in the ether, there was no denying it. Trepidation filtered through him when she didn't respond. He made his way down the hall, forcing one foot in front of the other, hoping he wasn't too late and counseling himself to accept whatever answer she gave. Even if she chose a cop, he would respect her wishes.

Ranger stripped off his clothes and turned on the water, letting it warm before he stepped under the spray, bracing his hands on the wall, as the mud and sweat swirled down the drain, right along with his future if she decided he was a bad bet.

A click echoed, and Ranger smiled. He schooled his expression before he turned. Stephanie stood in the doorway, staring at him.

"Babe?"

It was more an invitation than a question, as the blood roared through his head, drowning out everything except her soft voice.

"That's the thing about someday. I've been waiting a long time, and I don't want to wait anymore."

With that declaration, Stephanie pulled his t-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Ranger almost swallowed his tongue and wondered if thirty-five was too young to die of a heart attack. She was sheer perfection. And she was his. With a predatory smile, Ranger pulled the shower curtain back and held out his hand. She slipped her hand into his bigger one and stepped into the shower under the hot spray. There was no going back, no do-overs. They were doing this.

Ranger planned to spend the rest of the night making sure she understood she belonged to him. The balance they would figure out. He didn't have set plans or expectations, and for the first time in his life, he was fine with the uncertainty. Ranger didn't need to control this, he just needed her, because whatever their life looked like together, it was infinitely better than what it would be apart. He had come to that stark realization in the jungle.

"Happy birthday." Her voice was like silk sliding over his wet skin, lighting his blood on fire.

When her hands curled around his waist and grabbed his ass, hauling him up against her perfect body, he decided this was the best birthday ever.

"Happy birthday to me," Ranger murmured against her lips, before he fisted his hands in her hair, anchoring her in place so he could kiss her the way she deserved.

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A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing.