We were out at Shorty's for a combined celebration, the successful end of the case and a small Christmas celebration. Tomorrow night was Christmas Eve and the Manoso family party, eek! I had made an impromptu trip to the mall for a new dress since my bank account was currently nicely padded. I chose a dress that would allow me the ability to dance and feel sexy but demure. I had the perfect nude strappy heels at home, they were simple enough with a strap across the toes and then one that wrapped around the ankle. I specifically remember Ranger's reaction to another pair I wore on a distraction with an ankle strap, his pants were a little more snug on him than usual.

Several of the Merrymen came out tonight, we had so many tables full of muscular men, pizza and beer. It was heaven! I was sitting next to Ranger, tough break but I made the sacrifice, Lester, Hal, Ramon, Woody, Tank, Hector and Cal were all gathered around the tables we had pushed together to make room for us all. I couldn't help stealing glances at Ranger, there was something different about him since the end of the job. His face seemed more relaxed, he wasn't on edge as much. I never really noticed the tension before but now that it was gone there was no way you could deny it. I loved seeing this side of Ranger, his muscular arm was draped on the back of my chair and every so often I would feel his fingers brush against my back. Ranger even sits manly, his legs were the perfect amount of open where his knee would brush against my leg every so often.

The guys were all talking about their time in the military, swapping stories of spending holidays overseas or in some cases, jail, and eating what was supposed to be Christmas ham out of tins fit to hold sardines. Lester was telling one particularly raucous story that had all the guys rolling including Ranger. Between all the guys cracking up and my own laughing hysterics I couldn't hear the entire story but I caught enough. It definitely involved kitchen duty, a dump truck of potatoes and how he didn't have a date for a month because his hands smelt like a spud.

There were more tales told, some about basic training that sounded downright medieval to me. Waking up before the sun, going on hikes for miles in all kinds of weather, cleaning the bathroom or latrine as they called it, with a toothbrush and being yelled at by their CO who they all seemed to hold affection for which I didn't get but I guess all of that is what made them into the disciplined men they are today. For about five minutes I was interested in joining the Army after watching Goldie Hawn in Private Benjamin. They danced in the barracks and played pranks on each other, it looked like such fun! My father quickly disillusioned me of that fantasy and told me I should pursue other career options, it was a smart move on my part.

My head was going back and forth like I was watching a tennis match listening to all the stories and I started to feel a little left out. Each guy was talking about punishments they had received, they were treating it like a contest of who suffered the most. If there is one thing I know about it is punishments and suffering, I did grow up in the Burg after all, my mom was always grounding me for every little thing. While mine wasn't dished out by a drill sergeant I saw this as a good opportunity to bond with the boys.

"Talking about punishments, one summer my mom woke me up at 8:00 in the morning to clean the garage out and I couldn't go to the beach for a whole week!"

All the guys froze and stared at me, Ramon had his beer halfway to his mouth, Hal's eyebrows were raised and Lester's mouth was open with his slice of pizza just out of reach. I was becoming a little self-conscious with all the stares, I could see Ranger out of the corner of my eye and he was very clearly trying to keep the smile off his face and failing miserably.

I'm sorry I don't have a story of peeling hundreds of pounds in potatoes but just because I wasn't in the military didn't mean I didn't have my own horror stories. The longer they stared, the more I thought about the injustice here and I'm not afraid to admit I was feeling a little defensive at this point. I mean we can't all be Rambo and for a teenage girl in the Burg it was a cruel punishment. Maybe I wasn't being clear enough on all the ins and outs of my punishment.

"I got really black smudgy fingers from all the newspapers my dad saved. It was pretty hard to get off and it got all over my face and clothes."

Silence. No movement.

I nervously bit my bottom lip and started rethinking my attempt at bonding with the boys but I wanted to be part of the group. Maybe this particular conversation wasn't the most ideal moment but I couldn't stop trying to swap my own version of horror stories with the guys. It's like some maniacal puppeteer has their hand up my hoo-ha and is actually enjoying the awkwardness I'm finding myself in.

"I was a high stepper too, that was pretty intense."

As soon as the sentence is out of my mouth the guys burst out laughing, growing even louder as my brow furrows at their obvious amusement at my expense.

"I imagine it was." Ranger gives me 1000-watt smile and pulls me over giving a kiss at my temple.

"Hey! We did a lot of drills and I got in trouble if I dropped my baton, that's not that different from you guys and your rifle twirling!"

"Babe, we never twirled our rifles."

"Whatever, last time I try to have a bonding moment with you guys!" I call over my shoulder as I get up and make my way over to the darts.

Hal follows me over and asks if he can join me, at least he looked embarrassed to have laughed at me. In a very un-Hal move, he puts his arm over my shoulder with mischief in his eyes as he whispers that the guys did in fact twirl their rifles and possibly had the little white panties on too. Hal after all was a Navy Seal and never missed a chance to rib another military branch, I joined him in laughing at the Army brats we left behind.

It really was a fantastic night, I don't remember the last time seeing all the Merrymen like this and Batman was really blowing my mind. We had moved over to the pool tables and I was up to play the winner, the current game was between Tank and Ranger. Of course Ranger won, was he good at everything or what?

We were laughing, eating pizza and dishing out an adequate amount of trash talk to each other. Dare I say I was spending time with Carlos right now? He was handsome as hell, wearing nicely worn almost black jeans that were tight and loose in all the right places with some burnt brown leather boots. A simple dark gray shirt that had a couple of buttons that were left open, short sleeves that ended in the middle of his large mocha biceps. I wasn't above checking out his muscles that flexed with his every movement. A few times tonight I was forced to squeeze my thighs together to try to relieve some of the feelings stirring deep within me.

There was an action movie playing over in the corner instead of the typical sports game, it was Die Hard and the helicopter was just flying over Nakatomi plaza for the rescue scene. I'd had a couple of beers at this point and blurted out a question to Ranger, "you've been in a helicopter before, right?"

"Of course, Babe."

"Have you jumped out of a helicopter before?"

He carefully lined up his shot sinking another of my solid colored billiard balls. "I think you are asking me if I have repelled out of a helicopter and the answer would be I have."

"Do you know how to fly a helicopter?"

Ranger leans up from the table and is grinning at me, I think I am entertaining him with my slew of rapid-fire questions but I can't help it. The beer is making my mouth not connect to my brain. I've not really asked him much about his time in the military even though I have desperately wanted to and right now I'm thinking why the hell not?

"I'm certified to fly a couple of different birds. The basic operation of them are about the same, I'm sure I could fly about anything if I thought my ass was about to get shot to hell."

I have stopped even caring about playing pool right now, I find myself standing in front of him listening intently as he goes on to explain such intricate details of his knowledge of flying. He even shares a story about a time that the rotor was shot out and an emergency landing had to be made. I think to myself he is so cool, he is so cool.

"That kinda sounds like the scene from Rambo Part II where he's flying the helicopter back with the POW's and it's all smoking and wobbly. Is it scary to fly one?"

His head falls back as he laughs at my Rambo comparison, he tugs on one of my curls smiling, "We might have to watch some actual documentaries about war so you aren't basing everything off of Rambo. We train and train for all different types of situations so we are as prepared as we can be. It's not scary flying one but if I am the pilot, the shit has certainly hit the fan."

"You are an amazing man, did you know that? I don't ever tell you do I?"

His eyes grow soft, warm chocolate pools and the corners of his mouth curl up ever so subtly. We were standing so close to each other; I shift my feet under his undaunting stare and somehow our fingers brush against one another or maybe it wasn't an accident. Maybe I wanted to have a little more contact with him, feel that he is real and actually standing in front of me. I really meant it saying he was amazing, I'm incredibly fortunate to call him my best friend. I tangle my fingers gently with his and his fingers dance back with mine as he continues looking deep in my eyes all the way to my soul.

Suddenly I almost jump out of my skin because Lester has slammed a $50 down on the edge of the pool table saying he was playing the winner. I look over at him and see a face splitting grin that doesn't dissipate despite the frightening look Ranger is giving him. I step back and take a sip of my beer from the nearby table and find Ranger intently looking at me. He seems reluctant to resume the game but moves to take his next shot and just like that the spell is broken.