I do not own any of these characters, although I would really like to meet
up with Ranger in a dark room somewhere. I simply borrow and gently use
them for my amusement.
Chapter Two Ranger Delivers the News
I was wrong. It wasn't Morelli rushed past me in that ambulance. Joe had never even made it into an ambulance. It was Terry Gilham, shot three times as she ran from the scene. Shot by Joe.
But I didn't find that out for a couple of days. It took me that long to get past the mental mantra "Joe Morelli is dead."
Ranger had steered the Buick clear of the scene quickly, passing the clustered cops and flashing lights. I hardly trusted my voice, but I managed to whisper "What's happened to Joe?"
Ranger stepped out of his zone, looking at me instead of the road. His eyes were the give away; normally so...emotionless. There was warmth in them now, a hint of remorse, and- pity. A great deal of pity, and a bit of fear. He turned back to the road in silence, and I think that that was the moment I first knew. Shock swept over me, paralyzing. We weren't far from my apartment. As we turned into my parking lot, Ranger eased into a spot near the door. He put the Buick in idle and turned to face me.
My paralysis was broken at his words. He took my face in his hands and frowned. I could tell he was measuring his words, and that he didn't want to be the one to tell me. "Steph, I don't know how to tell you. I wish I didn't have to tell you-"
"Then don't tell me," I whispered desperately. I tried to pull away, but Ranger pulled me back with the intensity in his eyes. He leaned over me, lowering his face level to mine and leaning his forehead to mine, never losing eye contact.
"Joe was shot tonight. He died before the ambulance arrived." He pulled me into an embrace, warm and supportive. "I'm sorry."
It took a minute for the words to truly register. I shuddered and didn't even try to hide my tears from Ranger. I let them drop onto the black T- shirt and screamed into his firm shoulder, beating my hands uselessly against his broad chest. Ranger took all the abuse and never let me go, murmuring the entire time into my ear softly, "I'm sorry, Steph. I'm sorry," and rocking me gently back and forth.
I have no idea how long we sat there, but it was dark and most of my neighbors' lights were out before I could stop calm down enough to just cry. The amount of snot he had allowed me to leave on his shoulder was a testament to his feelings for me. I guess I had always known that despite his cool, Batman exterior, Ranger had shown me in his own way that he cared. Abruzzi was just one of many hints. Sniffling, I pulled away, rubbing my eyes. Ranger let me go, but not far. His arm stayed draped over my shoulders, in a comforting, non-territorial, way.
Ranger didn't seem like the type of guy who handled emotions well, but he seemed to know what to do for me. "Want me to go get you some Tastykakes?"
I snuffled. I wasn't up to laughter, but that's not what Ranger was going for. He was actually trying to figure out what to do to help me. In all the trouble I had gotten into since meeting Ranger, this was the most emotional and damaging event by far. "I'm not hungry."
Ranger's eyes flashed with worry. After all, I'm always ready for cake. Ranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanky, handing it to me after wiping some of my smeared mascara and eyeliner off my cheeks. If I wasn't so stunned and in pain, I would have wondered over Batman carrying some thing as old fashioned as a hanky. "Thank you," I mumbled, swiping at my nose in a futile attempt to remove snot.
Ranger inclined his head. "No problem." He took my hand in his free one, rubbing the palm gently with his thumb. "Are you ready to go inside?"
I considered his question. I didn't think I was ready, but I didn't want to keep him sitting here in the car forever. And I really needed to go to the bathroom. I nodded, sniffling again, and reached for the door handle. Ranger was out of the car in a second and opening my door for me, helping me out. The face of my immense grief had brought out the gentleman in Ranger.
Chapter Two Ranger Delivers the News
I was wrong. It wasn't Morelli rushed past me in that ambulance. Joe had never even made it into an ambulance. It was Terry Gilham, shot three times as she ran from the scene. Shot by Joe.
But I didn't find that out for a couple of days. It took me that long to get past the mental mantra "Joe Morelli is dead."
Ranger had steered the Buick clear of the scene quickly, passing the clustered cops and flashing lights. I hardly trusted my voice, but I managed to whisper "What's happened to Joe?"
Ranger stepped out of his zone, looking at me instead of the road. His eyes were the give away; normally so...emotionless. There was warmth in them now, a hint of remorse, and- pity. A great deal of pity, and a bit of fear. He turned back to the road in silence, and I think that that was the moment I first knew. Shock swept over me, paralyzing. We weren't far from my apartment. As we turned into my parking lot, Ranger eased into a spot near the door. He put the Buick in idle and turned to face me.
My paralysis was broken at his words. He took my face in his hands and frowned. I could tell he was measuring his words, and that he didn't want to be the one to tell me. "Steph, I don't know how to tell you. I wish I didn't have to tell you-"
"Then don't tell me," I whispered desperately. I tried to pull away, but Ranger pulled me back with the intensity in his eyes. He leaned over me, lowering his face level to mine and leaning his forehead to mine, never losing eye contact.
"Joe was shot tonight. He died before the ambulance arrived." He pulled me into an embrace, warm and supportive. "I'm sorry."
It took a minute for the words to truly register. I shuddered and didn't even try to hide my tears from Ranger. I let them drop onto the black T- shirt and screamed into his firm shoulder, beating my hands uselessly against his broad chest. Ranger took all the abuse and never let me go, murmuring the entire time into my ear softly, "I'm sorry, Steph. I'm sorry," and rocking me gently back and forth.
I have no idea how long we sat there, but it was dark and most of my neighbors' lights were out before I could stop calm down enough to just cry. The amount of snot he had allowed me to leave on his shoulder was a testament to his feelings for me. I guess I had always known that despite his cool, Batman exterior, Ranger had shown me in his own way that he cared. Abruzzi was just one of many hints. Sniffling, I pulled away, rubbing my eyes. Ranger let me go, but not far. His arm stayed draped over my shoulders, in a comforting, non-territorial, way.
Ranger didn't seem like the type of guy who handled emotions well, but he seemed to know what to do for me. "Want me to go get you some Tastykakes?"
I snuffled. I wasn't up to laughter, but that's not what Ranger was going for. He was actually trying to figure out what to do to help me. In all the trouble I had gotten into since meeting Ranger, this was the most emotional and damaging event by far. "I'm not hungry."
Ranger's eyes flashed with worry. After all, I'm always ready for cake. Ranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanky, handing it to me after wiping some of my smeared mascara and eyeliner off my cheeks. If I wasn't so stunned and in pain, I would have wondered over Batman carrying some thing as old fashioned as a hanky. "Thank you," I mumbled, swiping at my nose in a futile attempt to remove snot.
Ranger inclined his head. "No problem." He took my hand in his free one, rubbing the palm gently with his thumb. "Are you ready to go inside?"
I considered his question. I didn't think I was ready, but I didn't want to keep him sitting here in the car forever. And I really needed to go to the bathroom. I nodded, sniffling again, and reached for the door handle. Ranger was out of the car in a second and opening my door for me, helping me out. The face of my immense grief had brought out the gentleman in Ranger.