Disclaimer, since I forgot one earlier: this is not mine except for the original bits that are, and written purely for the enjoyment of myself and others. The thought that I'd make money of it is just laughable.

Those who are easily offended should refrain from reading. These characters talk, think and behave like adults.

RangeDay

Chapter 5

"Hey Bombshell. How was your stint of being Robin?"

She looked at Tank in shock, having somehow hoped the entire office did not know about what she, Connie and Lula called Ranger. Tank flashed her a grin that told her to forget about that.

"It was all right," she said quickly. "I'm sure glad I didn't become a secretary though."

She dropped down into her deskchair and blindly reached out to feel at her in-tray. Empty. Figure that.

"Hawk's emptied it out for you. Gives you time to spend on RangeDay," said Tank. She gave him a sharp look, wondering if she should expect blatant, Lester-style fishing from him. Probably not. Tank would be more subtle.

"So, the book running yet?"

A little nod. Then:
"I'm keeping it."

"Thought you might. Here's my idea: if no one guesses it, the pot is mine."

"Already arranged."

"Any rules I should know about?"

He folded his arms over his massive chest, effectively blocking off the entrance to the cubicle. She smiled because he probably didn't even realise he was doing it.
"Book closes a week before the day, and you can't see it."

"To make sure I don't change anything last minute?"

Jeez. As if she could organise several activities and then randomly chose one last-minute. Organising just one day was enough work!

"Just a precaution."

"Is there usually a lot of money on this?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Just curious. If there is, I'd feel bad about going shopping with it." Talk about sounding more confident than she felt. "I'd put it toward a charity or something."

"That's cool, but nobody would blame you if you put it into a savings account. Some of the other guys will, if they win it."

She looked at him and gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. Tank had watched her go through periods of serious hand-to-mouth living, when the occasional job for RangeMan had been all between her and an empty fridge. She even suspected that he and Ranger had kept an eye on her in some way. Somehow there had always seemed to be an easy job when the payment reminders had starting to pile up, and once she had found Big Blue filled up when she could have sworn the gas tank was empty.

"Tell you what, you think about it, and I'll let you know if the numbers rise above a serious shopping trip."

"Okay. Thanks."

He nodded and began to turn away, then seemed to change his mind.
"If you have time, would you mind doing my hair? Ella's out of town and it's getting long."

She glanced at his hair and grinned. Long being relative – it was like he was wearing a densely curled helmet. A lot of the guys kept their hair millimetred, so RangeMan had a set of clippers in the office.

"Sure. I'll be out in a minute."

"And sir, how would you like your hair done today? Short is in style right now, and you are lucky, because the choice is—" she paused to look at the different combs, "Short, very short, and bald."

"Hmm now, let me think," Tank mused in a fake posh accent as he sat down with a towel around his neck. "I do like to go with the fashion. I think today it will be very short, if you please."

"Very well, sir."

Hawk was watching them with wide what-are-you-guys-smoking eyes. Stephanie grinned wide, clicked the right comb into place, and set to work. When she was almost done, Ram wordlessly rolled his chair next to Tank's. She ran the clipper over the last patch of Tank's hair and placed it straight over to Ram.

"She's on a roll!" Ram laughed, moving his chair so she could reach him more easily. Tank took over Ram's monitors. From the corner of her eye she saw Bobby eye Tank's head and run a hand through his own longer spikes. Then, when she was done with Ram, that spiky head appeared in front of her.

"Oh my god, I can't stop!" she called out, left hand grabbing at her right wrist as if the hand with the clipper had a life of its own. She made a path from Bobby's forehead straight back, as if she was mowing grass, then went from ear to ear, then worked on the sides until he had four squares of spikes, then finally took those off as well. The next victim was already standing next to her.

She had just cleared away the hair when Ranger walked in. He noticed the row of newly shorn heads at the monitor bank and blinked. Then he noticed Tank and Hawk at their desks and did a double-take. His face showed an honest to God what-the-hell? expression before it went neutral.

"Why does my control room look like I recruit straight from bootcamp?"

"It was bad, boss, real bad!" Bobby cried out from behind his monitor. "Steph got that gleam in her eyes and she just went crazy!"

"I'm going to have nightmares," Hawk declared, faking a sob. "It was just so terrible."

"Don't worry, we'll get you counselling," said Tank, giving him there-there pats on his shoulder as he walked past. "I think we all need it. If I just think of the way she ran after Bobby with that clipper…"

"You were lucky you weren't there, boss," added Ram, looking like he had a hard time keeping his face straight. "There was no stopping her. If we hadn't pried that machine from her fingers…" He shuddered.

Ranger gave them an exasperated you're-all-insane look. It was nice to see she wasn't the only one causing that look in him. Then he cut his eyes to her. She'd been silent, watching the spectacle.

He rose an eyebrow at her. She gave him her best look of wide-eyed innocence. He just kept looking.

"Wasn't me," she finally said. "You can't prove a thing. Must have been my evil twin."

His face was stern, and a muscle jumped along the line of his jaw. Either he wanted to ship her off to Somalia, or it was giving him real trouble not to burst into laughter.

"In my office, now."

Uh-oh, had she misjudged and was he angry? She followed him into his office and shut the door at his request. His face was its usual stoic and she found herself cursing his ability to always keep his emotions to himself. Or perhaps he just liked to keep her on her toes.
That thought annoyed her. She hated the way her happiness could be influenced by if he was pleased with her or not. Don't stand there like a schoolkid in the principal's office, she said to herself. Go for the offence.

"Am I in trouble for playing hairdresser?"

He looked at her for what seemed like an eternity, and determined not to be out-stared she looked back, trying to figure out what on earth was going on in his head.

Suddenly a grin tugged at his lips.
"No."

"Oh."

"Just try not to distract the guys when they're at the monitors." Ah, she'd expected this lecture.

"We kept everything covered."

A nod in acknowledgement. He believed her. No lecture.

Wow.

"So why am I here?"

"Is that a philosophical question?"

She rolled her eyes.
"In your office, with the door closed."

He flashed her a heart-stoppping grin.
"Want to come up to have dinner?"

She blinked at this sudden change in gears. He wasn't angry. Okay. He wanted her to come for dinner? Whoa.

"I'm cooking, and I hate cooking for me alone," he continued.

"Sounds good," she managed to bring out.

"I'll see you appear when you're done here, then." He started toward the door and she realised he hadn't wanted to ask her in front of the guys. Guess he was trying to maintain some sort of professional distance on the workfloor.

"So…" he stopped when she spoke and turned back to her. "Should I look suitably chewed-out when I walk out?"

The wide smile again. If he kept doing that, she'd start to gibber.
"Go for it, though Tank won't be fooled."

Her face felt flushed and her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Damn, if she stayed a moment longer she'd completely fall off this sort-out-the-feelings-first wagon.

She pasted her best crestfallen look onto her face and reached for the door, brushing against him just slightly. Heard his intake of breath and resisted a smile. At least she wasn't the only one affected. Whatever it was that was between them – she'd taken to calling it thing – hung in the air like a physical presence.

She closed the door behind her and breathed the free air. Damn, she had to get that under control if she was going to have dinner in his apartment.

She sat in her cubicle for a while, trying to find her cool. Thing wasn't going to take control tonight. She'd have dinner, and talk, and have a good time – and leave. No clothes would be removed at any point. Well, except from her coat.

Yeah, that was the ticket.

Now she was beginning to come to terms with the idea that she wanted more of him… wanted a relationship or a friend, not something in between… she wondered what it was he wanted. Then she wondered if he even knew. If he just wanted sex, then why was he spending so much time with her? Plenty of women he could get that from a lot easier, and as far as she knew – which admittedly wasn't very far, but still - he wasn't with anyone else. He used to behave as if he wanted just sex from her, but not really of late.

He'd been acting… different of late. More approachable. This morning had felt good, despite the running. They'd talked and then shared comfortable silence over coffee. And she felt pretty good about her stint as his assistant in that meeting.

So… maybe it was time for a strategy. That made her feel bad, but only for about two seconds. Most likely he employed plenty of strategies where she was concerned, so why should she feel bad about using it on him?
If she wanted either a relationship or a friendship and preferably the first, and he seemed to prefer a friendship with benefits, then she could encourage him out of the middle. Actually, by refusing the benefits, she already was. Then it was his choice which was things went, though she could maybe encourage him in the same direction. Make the opponent move in the desired direction by making the other options seem undesirable.

Except that made her feel uncomfortably like her mother, with that saying about not giving away the milk for free. And she refused to think of herself as a cow. Once you started that way, you really were on your way to being barefoot and in the kitchen. What was the use to being enlightened and modern if you viewed sex as the most significant thing a woman had to offer in life? As if the rest of her as a person was just something to be put up with for the sake of sex.

Now she thought of it, if no access to sex made him move toward a relationship, then maybe she didn't want him at all.

The reason she didn't want to have sex with him was because she'd feel lower than low when he inevitably left. And, she told herself, what was wrong with self protection? Enough with the excuses.

"Wow, that was amazing."

She sank back, sated. The food had been simple but very flavourful.

"My mother was determined that none of her sons were going to live on ramen and fried egg," he said. "I'm no wonder in the kitchen, but not as helpless without Ella as she likes to think."

His eyes suddenly grew dark as he watched her, and she realised she was licking clean the spoon she'd used for the fruit salad that had been dessert. Thing was thick in the air. She froze, mentally giving herself a smack in the forehead. Everything had been so friendly-comfortable so far that this sudden sexual tension felt like a tidal wave, washing over her.

Uh-oh.

"Babe."

"I, err… I should probably go," she stumbled, getting up. It had been a good evening and this seemed like the right time to end it. Before he decided that he wanted her for dessert.
No more friends with benefits. Repeat to self. No more friends with benefits.

Two, three steps and he was in front of her. She backed away until her shoulders hit a wall and he followed, the heated, focused look in his eyes seeming to suck all the oxygen out of the air. His hands hit the wall on either side of her shoulders and her hands seemed to have migrated to his sides with no input of her brain whatsoever. She slid them behind him and up, enjoying the feel of his broad back.

His lips crashed down on hers and sensual heat coursed through her, enough to make her knees turn into jelly. His hands on her hips now, keeping her upright, pulling her into his. She could feel the hard length of him and her hormones did a victory dance. His hands slid up, under her shirt. Burning on the skin of her back. She moaned into his mouth.

Somewhere in the Ranger-induced brainfog she remembered she was supposed to remember something, but he slid his thigh between hers and his hot breath over her ear wrung a ragged groan from her lips. His hands gripped at her hips in a way that told her resistance was futile. He slid his hands up her back and her bra sprang open—

Whoa. Back that truck the fuck up. Resistance is futile? Did you actually just think that? Awfully close to the cow and the milk now. Remember the way you felt when he left that morning.

She put her fingertips against the front of his shoulders and pushed without the illusion that she could actually move him. When he didn't let up from where he was ravaging the side of her neck, she pulled herself together and tried for speech.

"Let me go."

It sounded feeble and breathless and he ignored it, but just hearing herself say it made her feel more determined.

Think of this as cheesecake, she told herself. It'll be great, but tomorrow you'll feel like shit and hate your lack of self control.

"Ranger, I want to go home. Now."

"You don't mean that," he spoke against the skin just under her ear, sucking at her lobe. A shiver of arousal crawled down her spine and she felt herself waver. Think of what it felt like. His hands were on her bottom, grinding her hips against his. Think of his back as he walked out. She sucked for air as he nicked little bites into the side of her neck and soothed them with his tongue.

"Yes, I do," she managed finally, pushing at his shoulders again, a little harder this time. He looked up and his eyes were very, very dark. They roamed over her face and then downward, lingering on her breasts. Her nipples were hard, standing out against the fabric of her t-shirt.

"I don't think you do," he said in a sexy murmur, making her knees want to buckle all over again. She berated them sternly in the privacy of her own head. Remember that cold, sick feeling as he walked out of the door.

"Okay, so my body agrees with you. The rest of me knows this is a bad idea."

He leant in, his hands kneading her behind, his thigh still between hers, the length of him insistent against her.
"You didn't let that stop you before," he whispered hotly in her ear.

"There's a lot of things you can say about me, but I don't generally make the same mistake twice."

The thought shot out of her mouth before she could stop it. His body tensed and he pushed away a little. Might as well have been a mile. The temperature seemed to have dropped about ten degrees.
Damn it, her and her gut-mouth connection. Sometimes the brain just wasn't involved at all.

"Want to explain that, babe?"

Ack, she hadn't meant to say mistake. Not as such. Just an event she didn't plan to repeat. He was looming, face blank, eyes stormy.

Then it occurred to her that he did and said plenty of things that confused or upset her, and he never explained if he didn't feel like it. She didn't owe him an explanation.

"No, in fact I don't."

Not what he wanted to hear. He stepped closer, a warning look in his eyes. She drew in a slow breath, listened to Tsuy's voice saying 'Respect yourself and others will respect you. Confucius said that', and held her ground. If he wanted to be her friend, intimidating her to get the answers he wanted was not the way to go. She squashed the fear and resisted the urge to run and hide.

"Wow, you're real intimidating when you do that."

He froze in place. A muscle in his jaw jumped, and for a moment she thought he'd grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled. Or worse. He'd never hurt her, would he? She stared at him with wide eyes, wondering if she'd misjudged him.

"That was the intended effect," he finally gritting out, sounding as if she'd completely derailed his trail of thought.

"Well, it's working." With that she slipped away, grabbed her bag and was out of the door, letting it quietly fall shut behind her. The lift felt as if it was very slow today. It seemed like a good moment to cry, but for some reason she didn't.

Once in the car she sat still for a long moment, taking deep breaths. Her bra was loose, but she didn't want to fix it in the garage. She was very aware that the control room crew was watching, and tried to calm down. This was SO not how she'd wanted the evening to turn out.

After a couple of minutes she shook her hands a few times to get rid of the tension, and drove out of the garage before one of the guys would come down to check on her. She stopped at the 7/11, deciding that this definitely warranted for Ben&Jerry's and TastyKakes. Her coat was still with Ranger, but she didn't feel the chill.

Hours later she was still awake. The thinking position wasn't working today. Why was it so hard to hang out with Ranger? Every time they spent time together left her confused. He wanted her. No, he wanted her in his bed. Oh wait, now he wanted her to answer to him like his men did. He wanted her to be safer. He wanted her to explain herself on command while he never did so. He wanted her to have confidence. He wanted her to give in when he pushed.

Nothing matched up.

What the hell was that all about?

What was it SHE wanted, anyway? Parts of this were starting to piece together. She wanted him to see her as equal. Not amusement or occasionally handy to have about the place. Not someone to kiss when he felt like it, or get into bed when he was in an opportunistic mood. She not only wanted more from him, she wanted to be more to him.

She startled from that scary conclusion as her cellphone rang. Grabbed for it and answered it with a sleepy "Hello?"

Just breathing on the other side.

Jeez, not another crazy after her. She could do without that. It had to be 2 AM by now.

"If there's any freaks calling me at this hour they could at least say something interesting," she grumbled, and hung up. Suddenly she felt ready to sleep. Enough with the pondering, at least for tonight. She curled up on her side, pretended she was in Macy's and had won the lottery, and let herself sink away.

She didn't bother to drag open her eyes when the phone went again. Grabbed it, hit the right button and held it against her ear. Just breathing again. Not icky or heavy or anything. Just… breathing.

"…Babe?"

Her breath rushed out of her with a woosh. It was Ranger? Why was he calling so late? And why didn't he say anything?

"Are you okay?"

He was silent, but she could sense he was smiling. Middle of the night was when her mouth had a brain-bypass. More than normal, anyway.

"What are you smiling for?"

Boggled silence.

"How can you know that?"

That made her smile. She'd surprised him. He sounded… she didn't know. Different from during daytime. Less shielded.

"I don't know, I can… feel it, maybe."

"I smiled because only you could ask if I was okay after the way I… after tonight."

Oh. Jeez, how did you reply to that?

"So why do you call? I was asleep."

Silence again. It drew out for so long that she felt herself begin to drift.

"I couldn't sleep."

She startled back to awareness when he suddenly spoke again.

"And I… it isn't right of me to encourage you to grow stronger and then get angry when you no longer fold when I push."

Was that an apology? It sure sounded like one. Wow.
Batman. Did. Not. Apologise.

Maybe that meant she was talking to Ricardo Manoso now.

Her mother's daughter wanted to apologise in return, but the rest of her couldn't figure out what for. She wasn't going to apologise for standing up for herself. She was past that point.

"You're changing, and I… admire that. I guess it's taking me some time to adapt."

She realised he kept talking because she still hadn't said anything, and grasped around for the right words.

"Okay. It's taking me some time to adapt too."

His long exhale sounded like relief.

"I had some time to think about what I said," she said after a long moment. "I meant…"

Damn, did she really want to explain that she thought that night was a mistake because it made her want more of him and she knew she couldn't have it?

"You don't have to explain, Babe," he said gently. "I shouldn't have pressured you. I was tempted and I forgot about giving you space to think."

Yeah, the thinking about what she wanted. She thought she had it figured out, mostly.

"Maybe you should do some soul-searching as well," she said after a long moment. She couldn't believe she was telling this to Batman. Then again, in the middle of the night the rules seemed different somehow. "So that we both know what we want."

He chuckled a little, and she wondered why this amused him.

They were both silent for a while, strangely comfortable. Hearing his quiet breathing, something suddenly occurred to her.

"Did you call earlier as well?"

She heard him inhale, as if he wasn't sure how to answer this.

"Yes."

"So why didn't you say something?"

More silence. She sensed this time it wasn't the usual I'm-not-going-to-answer-you silence.
"I don't exactly have a lot of experience apologising, Babe. And you sounded like I'd woken you up."

He felt bad about waking me, she realised. How weird is that? He's woken me up loads of times.

"So what made you call back?"

"I didn't want you to think you had a stalker… and I figured you'd be awake after that anyway."

Ah, so he hadn't want to worry her. Huh. He clearly underestimated her ability to sleep at the drop of a hat, crazy phonecalls or not.

"This is nice," she sighed after a moment, feeling supremely comfortable. Snuggled up in bed with Ranger's voice in her ear, him actually telling her things, and none of the struggle to keep her hormones in check like when he was actually present. Weird but nice.

"What is?"

"Talking on the phone. We actually talk."

He breathed a soundless chuckle.

"Maybe we should do this more often, then. Goodnight Babe."

To be continued.

Feedback, as always, most welcome. I would be especially interested in what you think of Ranger's behaviour in this chapter. Hope I'm hitting the tone I intended.