It has taken me many months, but I finally finished this oneshot based on a meme shared in the Janet Evanovich Fanfiction Facebook group.

Single Riders Will Be Paired

Every now and then you meet someone so unexpected that there's a moment when the world and your perspective of it shifts under your feet. The clouds part to allow the sun to shine unhindered for the first time in history. Brighter. Cheerier. Hopeful. And in these rare moments it is your job to accept the things the universe is offering. It may be difficult to recognise what, exactly, has been laid out before you and what, exactly, you are to do with it, but the universe is never wrong.

This is the lesson that Ricardo Carlos Manoso, better known as Ranger, learned one fine day late in the fall. It started as any other: with an early morning workout. But by the time he'd reached his officed on the fifth floor of the building he owned - the one that housed his security company, Rangeman - he knew the day wasn't going to go to plan.

"Get out," he commanded, a mild hint of annoyance filtering into his otherwise emotionless tone as he opened the door and was greeted by three of his best men standing stoically between him and the reports he needed to review.

"If anyone's getting out, it's you," Tank - his second in command - replied. "You need a day off."

"I'm fine." The statement wasn't so much said as forced out through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, conveying the exact opposite message to that of his words. Because he was not fine. In fact, he was more stressed than he could ever remember being.

Not even when he was running through foreign landscapes to evade faceless foes on a FUBARed mission had he carried this much tension in his body. But he didn't have time to relax. His business was taking off and there were glitches that needed ironing out if they were going to continue to succeed.

"You're not fine," Bobby - the medic - said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your blood pressure is through the roof, you're clearly not sleeping, and are you grinding your teeth right now?"

"I don't pay you to-" Ranger started, but before he could finish the sentence, Bobby was holding up a hand and speaking over him.

"As your medic, you pay me to look after your health," he pointed out, wisely choosing to keep his tone neutral even though he wanted to dip the whole statement in condescension and let the excess run off over his boss's head. "And as your friends," he added, gesturing to the other two men. "We're worried about you."

"You need to take some time out and relax," Lester insisted, reaching to lay a hand on his cousin's shoulder but retracting it at the last second when he caught sight of the murderous expression in Ranger's eyes. Lester may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he hadn't made it this far in life – including a successful military career – without some well-tuned self-preservation instincts.

"Which is why we've pre-booked you to go to-"

"I swear to all that is holy, Tank," Ranger cut him off. "If you send me to a spa I will break every bone in your body. Twice."

If it were at all possible on his skin tone, the big man would have been white as a sheet. Instead, the only outward indication of the effect Ranger's words had on the large black man was the extra sprinkling of stress-sweat across his exposed scalp and the visible, yet silent, gulp. He knew his friend was more than capable of delivering on that promise, and he wasn't about to invite a demonstration of his skills.

Lester, far more cavalier in the face of such dire threats having endured Ranger's tumultuous teen years and survived, just grinned and really did wrap his arm over his cousin's shoulder this time. "Come on, Ric," he cajoled. "We know you better than that."

*o*

The saying goes that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Well, Stephanie Plum had been dealt enough lemons in her life that by college she'd taken to squeezing the juice into life's papercuts instead, just to get some kind of vengeance for the havoc it wreaked. Unfortunately, life, while generous enough to hand out citrus fruit, was also a bitch, and was not afraid to exact it's revenge on Stephanie. This was the only logical explanation, she decided, for why after barely three months of marriage, she had arrived home to find her husband balls-deep in Joyce Barnhardt - a woman who had long ago established herself as a lemon in Stephanie's life. One that she had not yet been able to make lemonade from.

While Stephanie had choked down the lemon juice that was her very public divorce and endured the sour taste of her mother's disappointment that she had ended her marriage (to hear Helen tell it, Stephanie's only prospect for having a normal life), she never once regretted freeing herself. In fact, the day after her divorce was finalised, she decided to celebrate her freedom with a trip to her favourite theme park: Thrillville.

Now, one might argue that going to a theme park on your own might not be as much fun as if you were to go with a group of friends, but Stephanie had never much been one for following the beaten path. She liked to blaze her own trail, and she certainly didn't need anyone telling her how to have fun today of all days. So no, she did not invite her best friend since childhood. And neither did she invite her sister and two young nieces who were at a prime age to absorb all the thrills Thrillville had to offer. Instead, she threw on her comfiest pair of denim shorts, an oversized and very much worn-in Batman t-shirt knotted at her waist, a hat and a pair of sneakers and called herself ready to take on the park on her first, and most important solo mission as a newly single woman.

She knew the park like the back of her hand having not only studied the map at length but explored it enthusiastically throughout the summer between high school and college when she'd ditched her job at the Tasty Pastry (forever spoiled by one Lemon named Joseph Morelli) and obtained a job as a janitor at the park. It wasn't a glamorous job by any stretch of the imagination, but it did allow her free entry to the park and, so long as she changed out of her uniform, she could stay and play after her shift.

She knew just when to hit the Death Drop for the shortest wait time, which food vendors maintained decent kitchen hygiene, and best of all, the secret queue-jumping hack:

Single Riders Will Be Paired.

People don't tend to think about the buddy system too hard when inviting people to a theme park for the day. They want all their friends and family there regardless of ride capacity. But the ride operators have to fill the rides, and if there's a group with an odd number at the front of the queue, they'll call for any single riders to fill the gap.

It was this policy that Stephanie Plum planned to take full advantage of on her newly-single-again adventure.

Little did she know, though, just how well the plan would pay off.

"Single rider!" the ride operator – a skinny kid with a face full of acne and a pubescent crack to his voice – called across the crowd waiting in line for the Alien Invasion ride. "We need a single rider! Got any single riders in the line!?"

Her hand was in the air immediately, rising up on her toes to peer toward the front of the queue. There was no point in calling out if there was another single rider ahead of her. As luck would have it, though, there was not one single rider in the fifty people between her and the ride, and the operator was already pointing straight at her.

"Come on down, Curly," the kid instructed. "Let her through, people, let her through."

It took the better part of a minute to struggle past the disgruntled people, but she finally reached the front of the line and was shown to the last remaining seat on the 'boat' that would take them on a journey into the fake mountain to see the secret lair of the aliens that had supposedly invaded earth.

The kid held her arm to steady her as she stepped into the boat before pulling down the safety bar and locking it in place over her lap. As the boat lurched into motion, inched along in the shallow water by the track it was attached to, Stephanie took a moment to examine her ride companions to gauge what kind of experience she was in for.

The boat held nine people, including herself, and it was clear that there were a couple of smaller groups filling it. A pair in the front row were already making out, lips locked, and eyes closed, making Stephanie wonder if they planned on paying attention to the ride at all. Most of the rest of the people appeared to be in a single group, the person from the front row having turned as much as he could in his seat to shoot a loud comment over the middle row, to the teen on the opposite end of Stephanie's row, while the middle row laughed.

That just left the man seated beside her. And from the brief glance she spared him just before the tunnel closed behind them, plunging them into total darkness, he would rather be anywhere else. Come to think of it, maybe he was the responsible adult, reluctantly tasked with supervising the kids now screaming senselessly.

"What are you doing here!" a harried voice cried out from their left as a spotlight suddenly switched on over an animatronic soldier on a platform to their left. "This area is off limits to tourists! There's classified information in this mountain."

"Sir, this is the group of scientists I was telling you about," the second soldier said. "They're here to help figure out the exact origins of the, um-"

"Scientists, you say?" the first interrupted. "Carry on, then, but be careful. And you're responsible for them, Collins. If any one of them is injured – or worse – it's you'll I'll be questioning."

And with that the boat lurched forward once more, the wall in front of them opening up to reveal a stereotypical science fiction laboratory-type scene. The group of teens laughed and joked, teasing each other throughout the gentle first section of the ride, often speaking over the storyline that came to light as they travelled past. The couple in the front didn't even look like they paused for air at any point in their make-out session. The man beside her, though, let out a low, unimpressed sound, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Not your kind of storyline?" Stephanie asked him as they rounded a corner away from the first lab and into a new section that looked like they were experimenting on some of the aliens.

"Any military operation worth it's salt would have checked IDs and issued security passes at the very least," he grumbled in a voice as smooth as hot chocolate despite his disapproval. "And if Collins is responsible for us, why isn't he here? If he was my subordinate, he'd be facing court martial."

Stephanie grimaced at the man's words and tone. "Military man, I take it," she said, but what she wanted to say was that he clearly didn't know how to have fun if he was poking holes in the storyline of a B-grade amusement park ride.

He made a noise that she interpreted as an agreement, but didn't care to elaborate, and frankly that was all right by Stephanie. The less this man spoke, the less chance she had of loosing her frustration on him. Because although she'd tried very hard throughout her life to adhere to the rules her mother had laid out for her, she'd always lived in somewhat of a fantasy world, and had been the victim of the kind of nit picking the man was performing, but on a more personal level. She didn't particularly relish the thought that he could turn that attitude on her at any moment. And dammit, she was here to have fun.

With the goal of not engaging the man's negativity in mind, Stephanie kept her lips sealed throughout the rest of the ride. She recognised that the only reason he had unleashed his military knowledge and dampened the mood of the already sub-par immersive experience was because she'd engaged him first. By the end of the ride, she'd almost managed to forget that he was there.

Almost.

Of course, it was impossible to ignore him entirely. His presence was like a physical sensation shivering over her skin, and as she disembarked the boat she felt suddenly, inexplicably bereft of the tingle she'd somehow gotten used to in the five minutes since she sat down beside him.

*o*

You would think that with all the training Ranger had had in the military, and his generally patient demeanour, he would be a lot more comfortable spending the majority of his day standing in lines, waiting for the two-minute reward of actually riding the amusement attraction. But he wasn't. It was torture. Mostly because he knew that there were a lot of better things he could be doing with his time. Like pounding his cousin into the mats in the gym.

He stared at the length of the line still ahead of him and wondered if he could get away with just skipping the roller coaster. He'd had enough thrills in his life to last him a lifetime, so the thought of willingly submitting to the gut-floating sensation of being suspended upside down didn't appeal to him any more than standing in the queue for another… he checked the wait-time sign post several people in front of him and suppressed a groan. He was already thirty minutes into this God forsaken line and still had another thirty to go. He didn't usually have such terrible luck with timing, but it didn't surprise him with the way his day was going.

First, he was kicked out of his own office by his most trusted men. Then, Hector had disabled his network access so he couldn't even use the hot desk on the main command floor to get some work done, and finally, Tank had casually hit the magic kill switch under his chin, knocking him unconscious and hauling him into the back of an SUV so that he came to on the highway halfway to his destination: Thrillville, New Jersey's most underwhelming theme park.

It was immediately obvious that it had been his cousin's idea to force him to endure this torture. Lester had adored the park growing up, and still maintained his season pass even though he only visited twice a year. Ranger had never seen the beauty and adventure that Lester seemed to find in the park when they were kids, and now that he was returning for the first time as an adult, he was struggling even more to see what Lester loved so much about it.

His orders were clear, though: he was to go on every ride before the park closed and Lester returned to pick him up. It was the price he paid for letting the stress of his personal life seep into his work enough that his men noticed and worried. He should have known better, but he didn't, and now he can't go back. Instead, he must deal with the fact that his highly trained men had sent him to a theme park to "unwind" knowing full and well that it wasn't in his nature to do so. And being in the crowds all day just had him constantly watching his six, which was surely the opposite of their intention.

There was no arguing against it, though. Ranger knew he needed to get his head back in the game, and if his men were going to knock him out and dump him at Thrillville for the day, then he supposed it was as good a place as any to do so. God knows he'd done a lot more with a lot less.

And knowing his luck, Lester had had Hector hack into the park's security system to keep an eye on him and make sure he rode everything. At that thought, he turned a withering glare toward the camera tucked under the eaves. He'd have given it the one finger salute, but he didn't want to be hauled off by park security on top of everything else.

Another sigh threatened to fall from his lips as he shuffled forward several feet, staring across the heads in front of him to the stairs that lead to the loading platform for the rollercoaster. His gaze caught on a mop of curls bouncing up the stairs, and a jolt of electricity ran through him. It was that woman again.

Somehow, in a crowd of literal thousands, they'd ended up seated beside each other on three different rides already, and it wasn't even lunch time. There was something about her that set off an itch down his spine and he couldn't figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Sure, the way she'd muttered under her breath about him being a killjoy on the Alien Mountain ride had been cute, and her little yips of surprise on the flume ride when the tracks had suddenly changed direction had caused a smile to twitch at the corners of his lips, but Ranger had learned to trust no one, and the fact that she kept showing up set off warning bells inside him. He needed to know more about her.

The now familiar shout of, "Single Rider!" carried over the queue and Ranger didn't spare a second for thought about any unpaired individuals who may have been lining up before him. He just hoisted himself up onto the wooden railing that ran down the side of the queue and started balance-beaming his way toward the front of the line. He wasn't going to miss the opportunity to figure this woman out.

Reaching the end of the rail, he jumped and landed deftly on his sneakered feet directly in front of the startled ride attendant.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to-"

"You called for a single rider," Ranger pointed out, side stepping the guy and darting up the stairs before he could stop him. He paused only briefly at the top to take in the sight before him. There, sitting in the back row of the last car, was the curly haired woman, peering around with an expression of quiet excitement lighting up her face. Sensing the attendant approaching behind him, Ranger surged forward, jogging the short distance, and slipping into the seat beside her. An uncharacteristic greeting slipping off his tongue before he could stop it. "Fancy meeting you here."

Her head snapped around, brilliant blue eyes widened in surprise, then confusion, before narrowing in suspicion as she recognised him. "Are you stalking me?" she asked.

"Hardly," he replied coolly, even as he questioned if that was an appropriate term for what he was doing. It certainly hadn't been deliberate. At least not until he saw her bouncing up the stairs a few moments ago and an unexplainable desire to be near her again had washed over him. "We just appear to have the same taste in rides, and impeccable timing."

Her lips pursed and her eyes rolled and something in Ranger's chest shifted, tightening in a not-unpleasant kind of way. Usually, women were quick to fall on top of him when faced with his full attention, but this woman didn't appear to share that wanton attitude toward his devastating good looks and mysterious air.

"You want me to believe you just happen to be seated beside me for the fourth time in two hours? It's a big park, buddy. You're either stalking me and think I'm an imbecile, or -"

"I don't think you're an imbecile," he assured her quickly, instantly wondering what screw Tank had loosened in his head with his nightie-night punch this morning that he found himself blurting things out to a curly haired stranger just because she didn't appear as enamoured with him as he was used to.

"Well, thank you, kind stranger," she replied, her eyes rolling again as the sarcasm of her words dripped onto his soul. "It's so nice to know that the man who doesn't know a thing about me and has exchanged barely six words with me doesn't think I'm stupid."

Ranger opened his mouth, to say what, he didn't know. It had been more than a decade since he'd struck out this badly with a girl. He hadn't been trying for anything with her, but that usually didn't matter. Her attitude toward him served only to intrigue him further. Before he could even begin to convince her, the ride attendant came through, checking harnesses and lowering safety bars, and then they were lurching forward, and Ranger's stomach was lurching into his feet.

His knuckles turned white where they gripped the harness as he took a slow, steadying breath. He hadn't taken the time to prepare himself for the fact that he would be flying over the tracks any second now, and as the steady click, click, click of the cars being pulled up the first hill reached his ears, he knew he had to get himself into his zone or he was going to embarrass himself. As the front car inched closer and closer to the peak, he blew out another slow breath, but his concentration was broken when he realised that the click, click, clicking had been drowned out by the sweet, tinkling sound of female laughter filling his ears. He glanced to the side, confirming his fears: she was laughing at him.

"Don't tell me the big, macho man is afraid of a little rollercoaster," she said gleefully,

"Not afraid," he countered through gritted teeth. "Last time I was on a roller coaster I-"

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence, which might have been a good thing for his reputation as a badass, as the cars pitched over the top of the hill. Ranger's stomach, which had previously been taking up space in his sneakers, jumped straight to his throat and while his fellow riders screamed in delight and shock, he clamped his mouth shut, grit his teeth, and focused on his breathing, shoving all his thoughts aside and reminding himself that it would all be over in a few minutes and then he could cross one more torture off the list.

*o*

Stephanie had always loved the feeling of wind whipping through her hair more than she hated the snarls it made of her curls. As the rollercoaster picked up speed, hurling them around corners, launching them upside-down and racing down the hills, she relished in the way her stomach rolled with it, immediately taken back to those glorious, suspended seconds when she'd flown from the top of her parent's garage roof when she was nine. The thrill was so all encompassing that when the cars eased to a stop at the platform, she'd all but forgotten the reaction the seemingly hardened man beside her had had as they inched up the first hill.

He'd looked pale and clammy, like he was going to vomit. And now, as the ride attendant released them from their restraints, he climbed out, stumbling slightly before he gained his footing on the way to the stairs. Catching sight of the strain behind the blank expression he'd plastered on his face, she felt bad for laughing at him. She was pretty sure that if he had been stalking her, it would have been a thousand times easier on the man to wait at the ride exit than to endure what he probably thought of as torture based on his reaction.

Climbing less than elegantly out of the car herself, she jogged to catch up, falling into step beside him as they started down the stairs to solid ground. He was looking steadier by the second, and Steph couldn't have stopped the words tumbling off her tongue if she tried.

"Are you gonna do the whole kiss-the-ground-and-thank-God-you're-alive thing?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "No." And he turned forward once more, picking up the pace to get away from her.

It seemed that now that he had survived what might have been his worst nightmare, he was back to being the stoic jackass she'd first been stuck with on the Alien Invasion ride. And for some reason, she hated the idea. She thought she'd seen a real glimpse of the man behind the scowl just before they'd gone over the top, and the vulnerability had intrigued her.

"I'm Michelle, by the way," she said, giving him her middle name on the off chance that he was a stalker. She wasn't stupid. "And I'm sorry for laughing at your reaction."

"It's fine," he replied gruffly, not slowing down so that she was practically trotting beside his long strides.

"You clearly don't like rollercoasters," she pressed, skipping forward a few steps to get in front of him and turning around to walk backwards, facing him. "Why'd you go on it?"

He eyed her silently for a moment, then reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolding it and holding it up to show her. She stopped abruptly to read the scribble, causing him to do the same. Every single ride was listed on the page, with a handful crossed off. She cut her eyes from the paper to the man, attempting to raise an eyebrow at him, but probably only succeeding in making herself look ridiculous.

"This is quite the to-do list," she said. "Are you really planning to ride all of these today?"

"Have to." His expression gave nothing away, but Steph thought she heard a hint of anger or bitterness in his tone, like he resented the list. She wanted badly to ask about the emotions he was clearly trying to hide but didn't think this stranger would appreciate her insinuating that they existed in the first place, much less be inclined to talk about them.

"Because…?" she prompted, trying to get him to talk.

He blew out a sigh and stuffed the paper back in his pocket, turning on his heel in an abrupt about face and stalking toward the next queue. Probably, Steph thought, he didn't even know what he was lining up for, just working his way along this stretch of the park to tick them off his list. One would probably think it was an efficient strategy, but she knew otherwise. She'd attempted the same task a few times over the years and could say without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way he would succeed this way.

Shaking her head, she strode over to where he stood at the end of the line and grabbed him by the hand intending to drag him with her to the Jupiter Launch while the line was still in it's lull, but the second she made contact she found herself reefed around, her arm twisted up behind her back and his muscular arm squeezing her throat. She let out a startled, choking sound, but as soon as she registered being in the hold, she was released once more, stumbling forward and gasping for breath.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "You startled me."

She held up her hands, eyes wide. "No, I'm sorry," she said, taking another step away from him. "I shouldn't have touched you."

His fists clenched against his thighs, pressing. "Why did you?" he asked.

"Touch you?"

He nodded, never letting her gaze drift from his. It felt like he was looking straight through her to her soul, tasting what he found there and measuring her very essence.

"I thought since you have this mission, you might like a few pointers on how to execute it if you want to succeed."

His left brow ticked up a little higher than the right, the corner of his mouth following suit. He was clearly intrigued. "And what makes you think you're the authority on the subject?"

She fisted her hand on her jutted hip, taking his queue in trying to diffuse the tension that had suddenly appeared when she'd taken his hand. "I worked here in my youth, and I've successfully taken on every ride in one day a total of 3 times. You can't just work through section by section; you need the insider knowledge of when the lines are shortest and zigzag back and forth to spend as little time standing in line as possible."

He seemed to consider her words for a long moment, or perhaps he was gauging just how insane the woman he'd chosen to maybe stalk was, it was hard to tell with how locked down his expression was. "Wouldn't zigzagging take up any time saved in the line length?" he finally asked.

She shook her head, a mischievous grin creeping onto her expression. "Not if you know the right short cuts to take," she informed him. His interest in her offer increased, and it was all she could do to keep her grin from widening as she turned to walk away, calling over her shoulder, "But if you don't think it'll work, I'll just leave you to your own devices." She didn't pause, didn't glance back at him, just continued walking steadily away, laughing quietly to herself as the tell-tale tingle returned to the nape of her neck, letting her know he was hot on her heels.

It wasn't until she'd reached the end of the Jupiter Launch queue that he fell into place beside her, and her curiosity over the man and his situation began spilling from her lips. It was the kind of unrestrained questioning she hadn't indulged in since before she met Dickie, and the reminder of her failed relationship and the kind of perfect Burg wife she'd tried so hard to be by suppressing her impulses, only caused her to lean even harder into digging for the information she wanted from this mystery man.

"So, what's your name? Are you here alone, or have you just ditched your friends?" she asked. "Who set you the task of ticking off every item on the ride list? How do you get your face so blank? What's your issue with the rollercoaster if you're not scared? Did you deliberately dress all in black for a trip to an amusement park or was it an accident? What-"

"Babe," he said quietly, and though his face wasn't any more expressive than it had been before, Steph got the impression that she was amusing him.

The line moved forward a few feet and she closed the gap, walking backwards to keep him in her sights lest she miss the ghost of an expression crossing his face. "Well?"

"You can call me Carlos," he said, a muscle twitching in his brow before disappearing like it didn't exist.

Steph crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. "Is that your name?" she clarified, no stranger to the games men play with their words.

"Is your name really Michelle?" he countered, raising that single eyebrow at her again as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Touché."

The line moved again behind her, but Steph stayed put, eyes locked on the man she could call Carlos, waiting. In the very brief interactions she'd had with him so far today, she'd decided that he was not the talkative type, but if she was going to offer up her Thrillville knowledge, she was determined to get something in return, and the thing that she always wanted, more than anything else in the world, was to know more about people. Like it or not, she would find a way to get this man to talk before the day was through.

"We need to move up," Carlos pointed out, tipping his chin toward the end of the queue now ten feet away.

"Not until you answer at least one of my questions," she bargained.

His expression twitched again, like he was thinking about smiling. "Yes."

"Yes?"

He inclined his head. "Yes."

"What do you mean, 'yes'?" she demanded, throwing her hands to the sides in frustration.

"It's the answer to at least one of your questions," he explained, stepping forward until he was in her personal space, vacuuming up all the air from around them, or so it seemed.

"At least one?" The fact that she'd managed to get a full sentence out at all was miracle as all the thoughts in her head were suddenly jumbled thanks to the heat rolling off his body and the increased sensation at the base of her neck.

"Exactly one," he clarified, and without further preamble, he settled his hands on her hips, using his grip and her distraction to guide her backwards until they caught up with the rest of the line.

Brushing off his hands, she stepped away, took a breath and, when she caught sight of the smug expression he'd let through his defences, rolled her eyes. "Which one?"

"I deliberately wore black to an amusement park."

"Weird," she proclaimed, leaning back against the railing as casually as she could manage while her hormones were still busy sounding the little-used Hot Guy Proximity alarm. Maybe, she thought as she huffed a curl out of her face, eyeing Carlos critically, maybe there's some merit to Mary Lou's suggestion that she find someone to 'get freaky' with. A kind of rebound, or celebration of her singledom. She was, after all, no longer tied down, so there was no moral reason to prevent her from engaging in some wild sex in the inflatables storage shed with this hot stranger.

Of course, there was always the threat of what her mother and the Burg would say if they found out.

She rolled her eyes again. Today was about her freedom, she reminded herself. Her mother and the Burg were the exact opposite of freedom, and therefore, did not deserve any time spent worrying about them.

"Deep thoughts, Babe?" Carlos asked, leaning against the opposite rail.

Blinking, Steph lifted her face unaware of just how long she had been inadvertently staring in the general direction of the man's crotch. From the twinkle in his eye, she knew it hadn't escaped Carlos's notice, but at least she was pretty sure she wasn't drooling.

"Why?"

"Because you seemed pretty intensely focused on my -"

"No, I mean why did you choose to wear all black to an amusement park?" she said quickly, waving her hands frantically to cut him off. "I didn't… I mean, I wasn't…."

He smirked. "Babe."

"Just answer the question," she sulked, wrapping her arms around herself defensively.

Slowly, he shook his head side to side, eyes never wavering from her face. "I believe it's your turn to answer one of my questions," he countered.

Imitating his slow headshake, Steph did her best to mimic his tone and accent when she replied, "You haven't asked me any."

Steph interpreted the slight eyebrow raise to mean that she made a fair point. And thankfully, he didn't make her wait to find out what kind of questions he had in mind.

"What brings you to a theme park alone?" he asked.

Her surprise showed clearly on her face just like every other emotion she'd ever felt. Try as she might, she'd never been able to hide her true feelings. "What makes you think I'm here alone?" she replied as coolly as she could while her father's personal safety advice flitted through her head.

Carlos shrugged. "I find it hard to believe that you would ditch your friends just to help me tick off my to do list," he pointed out. "Plus, you've been a single rider, filling the last spot on at least three rides that I know of."

"Alright, then," she conceded. "You caught me. I'm here by myself. But you should know that my dad is picking me up when the park closes."

Understanding passed behind Carlos's expression and he held up his hands placatingly. "I mean you no harm," he assured her. "You just piqued my curiosity."

Steph eyed him for a moment, weighing the truth in his words before letting out a quiet sigh. "Okay," she said, digging her phone out of her pocket. "But I'm going to need a selfie to send just in case. That way if anything does happen to me the authorities have a starting point for their investigation."

*o*

Ranger knew she was lying. It was written all over her face, in the way her eyes darted to the side when she mentioned her dad picking her up, the way her lips disappeared briefly when she made eye contact again. But he couldn't blame a woman of this day and age for fabricating such details when faced with a prying, alpha male such as himself. After all, it was part of the reason that had led to his men depositing him in this cheery hell hole today.

Three days ago, Ranger had returned from Miami where he had spent a week taking care of his five-year-old daughter, Julie, while his ex-wife was in the hospital. Rachel had trusted the wrong person when she picked up Greg Fields at the grocery store, and paid dearly for the mistake, when the man she'd invited into her home and her bed had bashed her when she refused to pleasure him in the way he wanted. Thankfully, Julie had been at preschool at the time and spared the trauma of a) seeing her mother in such a state, and b) falling victim to the thug's fists herself. That knowledge did nothing to lessen his worry for the girl's safety, though.

The man had given a fake name, and though Rachel tried her best to give a distraction in the wake of the incident, between the trauma and the painkillers, her brain was addled. So, if taking a picture with the woman, 'Michelle', that she could send to her friends or family made her feel safe, he wasn't going to deny her. Hell, the way he'd been captured by those wide, blue eyes, he wasn't sure he could have denied her anything if she'd asked him for right that second. And regardless of whether he thought she was aware of her power, that made Michelle a dangerous woman.

"Then you won't mind if I do the same," he said, retrieving his phone from his belt and holding it up.

She inclined her head, pushing off the railing and stepping right up beside him, causing that tingle of awareness he'd felt earlier to strengthen as he slipped a hand behind her back and angled his face toward the screen she held up high. "Smile," she instructed, tapping the screen with her thumb several times to capture their image before lowering the phone and swiping through them. "Or not," she mumbled under her breath, noting the unchanged expression on his face in each photo. She quickly shot off a text including the photo to a contact simply named ML before tucking the phone away and taking up her position tight to his side once more. "Okay, now you," she prompted.

The feel of her body, soft in all the right places, pressing into his side, was fraying his legendary self-control. All he wanted to do was pull her closer and take a taste of her teasing lips. Instead, he lifted his phone, angled it so that the frame captured much more of her than himself, and snapped the photo.

While they were preoccupied, the line moved again, allowing him to hide the fact that he sent the photo to no one. Simply saving it to the cloud so he wouldn't lose it even if something happened to his phone.

"My divorce was finalised yesterday," she announced when they settled into place, side by side at the end of the queue, both facing forward. "I'm celebrating my freedom, that's why I'm here alone."

The solemn truth in her words tugged at something deep inside him, and unbidden, a partial answer to one of her earlier questions was spilling from his lips, reciprocating her offering without thought. "My cousin decided I needed to relax and let off some steam," he confessed.

She turned to look at him. "Yeah, you don't strike me as the rest and relax kind of guy. Is that why you have the to do list? To prove that you tried everything?"

"It's my turn to ask a question, Babe," he said, rather than reply.

And that is how they passed the rest of the day, alternating asking questions, both big and small, as they waited in lines and scurried between and behind barriers. Ranger learned that there were few things the woman loved more than food and knowledge of others, and that when she was a child, she had been obsessed with superheroes to the point that she had jumped from her parents' garage thinking she could fly and subsequently broken her arm. In returned he had shared tiny tidbits about himself: that he'd accidentally killed his pet goldfish when he'd decided to take it for a walk, he too was a divorcee, and he confirmed that he had a military background when she eventually asked him directly.

With half an hour left before the park closed, Steph bounded down the steps from the latest ride, as full of energy as she had been at the start of the day and spun to face him. "Okay," she said, dancing a little from side to side as Ranger pulled the list from his pocket to cross off the ride. "What's left? We can probably fit one more in."

"Just the-" he cut himself off as he registered the only attraction he had not yet been on. No way.

"Just the what?" she prompted, skipping closer to try peer over his shoulder.

"No, we got them all," he assured her, quickly folding the page and stuffing it back in his pocket.

"Liar," she accused. "You said we had one left after the teacups. Let me see the list."

He tried to evade her hands, and probably would have succeeded if he hadn't squashed his instincts to avoid hurting or scaring her the way he had when she'd first tried to take his hand. And it didn't help that he wasn't expecting her to plunge her hands into his pocket to grab the paper from him.

He watched as her gaze roved over the list and knew the second she had located the one ride yet to be crossed off. The pink blush that rose on her cheeks was unmistakeable.

"Oh," she uttered, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear.

"Yeah," he agreed when she passed the list back to him.

Her eyes were everywhere but his face as her tongue tripped over her words. "I mean… we could…"

"Or I could just go on my own," Ranger pointed out, unwilling to end such an unexpectedly good day by making it awkward with this gem of a woman.

She shook her head, straightening her shoulders and finally looking him straight in the eye. "It's just a ride," she said firmly. "We can ride it platonically. As friends." And before Ranger could attempt to tell her she didn't need to do that for him, she had grabbed his hand in hers and started dragging him toward the Tunnel of Love.

As she had so many times throughout the day when Ranger simply couldn't bring himself to say anything, Michelle kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation in the five minutes it took for them to reach the front of the line. As they stepped up to the boat, he let go of her hand only long enough to climb onboard before reaching for her again, offering stability as she stepped in beside him.

He guided them both down to sit, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as the vessel started forward in much the same way the alien mountain ride they'd first met on had, jerking slightly before finding its calm gliding motion. The boat was the only calm thing among them, though, it seemed, because while he drew on his military training to keep his breathing and heart rate in check, he could feel Michelle's pulse jumping as she fidgeted beside him, suddenly silent.

The darkness closed around them, and Ranger's lips parted and the answer to the final question he'd yet to answer escaped into the air.

"The last time I was on a rollercoaster before today, was my nephew's tenth birthday," he explained, working to relax his muscles in the hopes that she would follow suit. "I had returned home from a FUBAR mission a few weeks earlier and-"

"FUBAR?" she questioned, and though he couldn't see her, he felt her turn her head to peer at him.

"Fucked Up Beyond All Repair," he explained. "I lost three team members and barely made it out alive myself." He heard her tiny gasp, and knew she wanted to console him, so he plunged on, not giving her the chance. Her pity was the last thing he wanted. "I'd been working through it all with a psychologist and in hindsight I should have known I wasn't ready to face the theme park, but I had promised Hugo before I left for the mission that I'd be back in time, and that I'd ride the Tornado with him. He'd been begging me to go on it with him since he was eight, so I couldn't bring myself to tell him no."

Ranger did pause then, as lights appeared ahead of them in the tunnel, accompanied by jaunty music that grew louder until they were passing a staged scene full of leprechaun cut outs and fake pots of gold. How that was appropriate for a ride called the Tunnel of Love, he had no idea, but he wasn't given a chance to ponder it, because while he'd been staring in bewilderment at the tiny, red-headed men surrounded by rainbows and four-leaf clovers, Michelle had been staring at him.

"What happened on the ride?" she asked quietly.

Ranger let out the ghost of a sigh. He'd committed to this tale, now he had to see it through. "I was fine until we hit the second loop," he explained. "The ride got stuck and the sensation of hanging upside-down triggered a PTSD episode so bad I passed out."

"Was Hugo okay?"

He couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips, not only because of this woman's obvious concern for the young boy she'd never met, but because of the memory of what happened when they'd finally made it off the ride and down to the boy's mother, Ranger's sister Celia. "He told everyone I fainted," he said simply. "And I told everyone he took good care of me. I think the act of making sure I was okay kept him from freaking out himself. He's like his mother that way."

"So you weren't scared of the rollercoaster, you were scared you were going to have a PTSD episode and pass out," she reasoned, reflecting on his reaction to the ride earlier in the day.

"Worried."

A short snorting sound filled the darkness and Ranger got the feeling she didn't believe him. "Pretty sure you were scared," she said. "I've never seen knuckles that white from worry."

The realisation that this woman had read his emotions so easily when he'd worked so hard, constantly, to keep it all in check really did strike fear into the pit of Ranger's stomach now. Could it be that the stress of the last few weeks had affected his ability to hide his thoughts and project that blank expression he'd perfected over the years? He'd certainly had to lower his defences in order to get Julie to accept his care while Rachel was in the hospital. Maybe his men had been right in banishing him from the office. God only knows what could have happened if he'd been allowed to go about his normal day. What if he'd had a call out to Stark Street?

"What's wrong?" Michelle asked, peering up at him in the dim light cast by the next approaching window scene.

"What do you mean?" Ranger replied, slamming down his mask even as his brow furrowed.

"Your whole body tensed up," she pointed out, shifting against him slightly to bring his awareness to the warmth where her body pressed into his side, but being careful not to dislodge his arm from her shoulders. "What were you thinking about?"

He'd thought it earlier, but now he was certain: this was a dangerous woman. She didn't give off the impression that she was military or had any kind of background or training in intelligence and psychology that would explain her uncanny ability to read him, but there was no denying her expertise. What was a woman like her doing working as a lingerie buyer?

Ranger let his eyes rove over her face, wondering how, or if, he could distract her from his current line of thinking, when, not for the first time, his gaze caught on her lips. He wanted to taste those lips, and now was as good a time as any. It had certainly proved to be an excellent method of diverting a woman's attention in the past. So, rather than replying to Michelle's obvious concern, he shifted to face her more fully, letting the hand that had been over her shoulder retract some until it was tangled in her curls at the nape of her neck, the other coming up to caress the side of her face as he lowered his own.

He gave her all the signals that he was about to kiss her, ensuring she had plenty of time to pull away if she so desired, while silently hoping she wouldn't. And then his lips were pressing against hers, capturing the breathy moan she released as her lips parted allowing his tongue to sweep in. It was unlike any kiss he'd ever experienced, a zing of electricity travelling from where their lips connected to every nerve ending in his body before settling to hum at the back of his neck where he'd felt the awareness all day. And if Michelle's shiver was anything to judge by, she felt it too.

That was all the encouragement he needed to deepen the kiss, pulling her closer even as she threw her leg over his, straddling it to grind her core along his thigh.

Another moan filled the air and Ranger couldn't be sure that it hadn't come from his own throat. Never before had he felt such an instant connection to a woman. The pleasure that coursed through him had him desperate for more. If it weren't for the fact the he was aware - as he always was - of his surroundings and the finite time they had left in the tunnel before they would be thrust back into reality, he might have given in to the urge behind his zipper.

After several minutes of necking like teenagers, Ranger slowly pulled back, keeping his hold on the woman's hips where they were now pressing almost desperately against his own. When he didn't return his lips to her body after a few moments, Michelle's eyes blinked open, the increasing light as they approached the tunnel exit revealing their deep blue colour.

"Ride's almost over," he explained when he saw the question in her expression.

She glanced over her shoulder to the approaching exit and sighed. "Oh," she uttered, slipping off his lap and straightening her clothes as she worked to get her breathing under control. "Um… thanks."

Thanks was a woefully inadequate word to express the gratitude Ranger himself felt for the connection they had just shared, he thought, but he supposed he didn't have the words to express everything swirling inside him right at the moment either. And of course, there was the inherent awkwardness of the whole making-out-with-a-stranger situation.

But what a way to end the day.

As they emerged, blinking into the fading light of day, a silence settled over the pair. A silence that Ranger recognised was not an easy one. The ride attendant stopped their boat and offered a hand to Michelle to assist her onto the dock before Ranger could climb out behind her. She took a few unsteady steps toward the stairs and Ranger instinctively wrapped an arm around her, settling a hand on her hip to steady her. He knew the second she didn't melt easily against his side the way she had when they'd boarded the boat, that the day and all it's frivolity was over.

"I suppose your dad's probably waiting out front by now," he said, referencing the lie she'd told earlier to try to lighten the heavy moment that had fallen over them.

"Huh?"

His efforts were apparently lost on Michelle.

"You said your dad was picking you up," Ranger reminded her. "The park closes in a few minutes, so he's probably out there waiting."

"Right," she said, slipping out of his grasp as they reached the main path that would take them to the park exit. "Yeah, he'll be worried if I don't get out there soon." She nodded firmly, brushing her hands over her pants. "Um…" she turned to face him, apprehension clear in her posture.

"Thanks for today," Ranger said before she could untie her tongue. "I had a good time."

Michelle smiled softly. "Me too."

He still sensed she was nervous, so he offered an olive branch. "I promised my cousin I'd bring him a corn dog when he picked me up," he said, gesturing toward the dwindling line at the nearby food stand. "I'll let you go on ahead."

Relief washed over her face, confirming Ranger's suspicions that she was worried about him following her to her car. "Okay. See you around, 'Carlos'," she said, using air quotes on the name he had given her at the beginning of their time today, proving that she was clearly still as sceptical of it as he was of hers.

He let a small smile play at the corners of his lips as she backed away from him. "Babe."

Two steps took him to the food line, but he didn't turn around until Michelle had disappeared from sight, using every last second to commit the woman to memory.

*o*

"How was your day?" Lester asked, grinning from ear to ear as Ranger wrenched open the passenger door to the SUV and thrust the corn dog at him. "Feeling better?"

"Much," Ranger admitted. It was a rare divulgence of information, but he felt it was the right thing to do after the day he'd had. If it wasn't for his cousin's meddling ways and affinity for the old theme park, Ranger probably never would have had the opportunity to spend the day with such a refreshing and enticing woman. He certainly wouldn't forget her any time soon.

Lester, expecting that Ranger would decline to answer, or at most growl at him to take him home, had been stuffing the corn dog into his mouth so they could be on their way as quickly as possible when Ranger's reply registered in his brain. "Wait, what?"

"I had a good day," Ranger explained, buckling up and retrieving the sheet of paper from his pocket. "Even finished your list."

With the half-eaten corn dog in one hand, Lester fumbled to unfold the list of rides he'd made for Ranger to go on and stared down at all the items crossed off. "There's no way you did them all in one day. It's impossible," he accused. "You just crossed them all off without riding them. You probably just spent the entire day sulking on a bench."

"Nothing is impossible with the right strategy," Ranger responded, the corner of his mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile as he thought about the woman who had come up with his winning strategy.

The light in his expression wasn't lost on his cousin, who spent the entire drive home peppering the tight-lipped Ranger with questions about how he did, who he bribed, what magical portal dimension he'd uncovered.

*o*

Six Months Later

Every now and then you meet someone so unexpected that there's a moment when the world and your perspective of it shifts under your feet. The clouds part to allow the sun to shine unhindered for the first time in history. Brighter. Cheerier. Hopeful. And in these rare moments it is your job to accept the things the universe is offering. It may be difficult to recognise what, exactly, has been laid out before you and what, exactly, you are to do with it, but the universe is never wrong.

This is a lesson that Stephanie Michelle Plum learned one fine day as she stepped over the threshold of a small diner in her hometown of Trenton.

The week had started off on the wrong foot, establishing itself as one of those lemon moments she'd learned to choke down. Having lost her job at E.E. Marten almost three months ago and been unsuccessful at acquiring another job in the meantime, Steph had struggled to keep up with payments on her car to the point that it was repossessed while she was at her parents' house for dinner.

She'd jumped on the information her father provided that her cousin Vinnie was looking to hire a file clerk. And even better, when she entered the office ready to coerce him into giving her the position, only to find out that he was also looking for a bounty hunter.

Steph had seen the shows, and while she had some reservations about her abilities, the news that one Joseph Morelli was up for a hefty capture fee bolstered her confidence. There was nothing she wouldn't do for a chance at revenge on that particularly sour lemon. So, using the bank of blackmail material she'd been saving up for just the right occasion, she'd convince Vinnie to let her skip trace.

It might have been a mistake.

She'd only been on the job half a day and already she knew she needed help. Thankfully, Vinnie's receptionist, Connie, had called in a favour with some apparent badass named Ranger who'd agreed to meet with her and show her the ropes.

As she stepped through the door to the diner a familiar tingle travelled up her spine, settling at the nape of her neck. She'd only ever felt the sensation once before, the day she'd celebrated her divorce at Thrillville and encountered 'Carlos'.

Doubtful though she was that she would find the man here of all places, she scanned the people in the space until her eyes locked on the far booth. There he sat, clad entirely in black and staring back at her with a slight smile on his otherwise blank face.

"Carlos?" she called in disbelief, making her way quickly between the tables toward him.

"Babe."