note: if you haven't found it yet, go to Rangeday EXTRA by clicking on my name and looking for it in my story list. There are extra chapters to this story, written from other characters' point of views. Latest is one by Ranger fitting between chapter 11 and 12.

RangeDay
chapter 12

That night, Stephanie managed to crawl into bed before she collapsed into a crying fit. How could such a great week end so lousy? She'd had the victory of working out RangeDay, and the success in the dojo. She'd been feeling great. This evening out had been a lot of fun. And then Ranger had ruined it all by… by…

By spending most of the evening being so damn thoughtful that she couldn't avoid the realisation of how much she wanted him. How much she wanted a relationship with him, and how much she couldn't have one. Couldn't he keep a friendly distance to make it easier for her? Then he'd closed the night off with a zinger. Not only could he be singularly wonderful, he said he loved her.

Did he like hearing her heart shatter?

No. She couldn't imagine that he'd consciously hurt her. Hurt her by being cold or unthinking or opportunistic, yes. Deliberately? No. Maybe he simply thought it was time to get back into her bed now Morelli was out of it. And maybe he thought he'd get there sooner if he said those words. After all, she wasn't supposed to think anything of them. Wasn't allowed to want anything from him.

And if he'd meant them differently… in a way she couldn't currently bear to think of too closely… then she'd just ruined it. Had just turned into a screaming harpy because he'd told her…
That made her cry some more. Finally, somewhere before dawn, she fell asleep.

Over the course of the weekend she couldn't count how many times she picked up the phone and put it back down. What was she going to say to him? Sorry I yelled at you when you told me you loved me? She'd probably lose her nerve and hang up as soon as she heard his voice, and that wouldn't exactly make things better. No, she'd wait until Monday, go into his office, and apologise with those same guts she'd been so proud of last week.

Sunday dinner was it's usual disastrous affair. Grandma Mazur had brought along her latest stud and Albert spilled gravy in his lap. Valerie had been upbeat though. Especially when Stephanie pulled her outside for a chat and let her know the girls' birthday party was all but arranged. She just needed the names and addresses of the party-goers to send out the invitations

It would be a small party with four invitees for each, but Valerie had decided to step out of the parental one-up-mans race of bigger, wilder and more expensive parties, and the girls were excited about having a birthday together ever since they'd been told that their mother used to celebrate her teenage birthdays with their Aunt Steph. Shared parties were for big girls.

Monday rolled around without the thunder-and-lightning drama she'd half expected from it. The Explorer didn't detonate when she rolled over the engine. The traffic was amazingly light, not allowing her to believe the universe was telling her to go back home. She rolled into the garage and spotted her own car. Al had returned it with the best he could do on the crumpled side. It wasn't as good as new, but she'd told him not to bother too much with the cosmetics. Chances of this car lasting her a year were slim anyway.

One of the guys was on the phone with an account, so she mouthed 'hey' to the men on the floor and slipped into her cubicle. A small stack of files awaited her, and she started in on the first.

When it was about 10:30 AM she wandered to the kitchen, made coffee for herself and weird herbal tea for Ranger, and wandered over to his office. Looked like he was digging himself through a stack of paperwork. He'd been known to grasp any excuse to get away from that, so chances were good she at least wouldn't be sent away immediately.

He looked up. "Babe."

"Hey. Can I come in?"

He nodded and gestured to the extra chair. She put the tea on his desk and settled herself.

"Peace offering," she said with a nod toward the cup.

His lips twitched with the hint of a smile.
"Thank you."

She wondered if he meant the tea or the sentiment behind it. They were both silent a long time. She stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking loudly in the quiet office. She listened as the silence solidified.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "For what happened Friday."

"So am I," he said quietly. Did he mean for his part or for hers?

"You didn't deserve to get your head chewed off for saying… what you said," she continued, and then fell silent. She'd noticed with Tsuy that she had the tendency to fill silence because it felt uncomfortable – while her friend simply did not feel the need to speak to enjoy each other's company. Maybe it worked with Ranger like that too. Don't try to fill the silence, it'll only make you babble. Think Zen thoughts.

"…anyway."

He still hadn't said anything, just looked at her. How did you think Zen thoughts anyway? Wasn't Zen about not thinking, only absorbing? Something like that. Whatever. It wasn't doing anything for her right now.

"I'll get on with my searches." She got up and put the chair back under the side table.

"Babe…"

Turning back she found him standing. She halted to wait for him to speak, and he let out a long breath. The fingers of his left hand were tapping the pad of his thumb.

"I want to see you down at the shooting range at 2:30. I want to see how you're getting on."

She deflated. All business again. Guess that was that. They were both sorry, and the subject was closed.

For her lunchtime workout she just used the cross trainer. It wasn't a very varied workout, but she could put on her little mp3-player and let the pounding of the music drive the motions of her body. No thinking required. The guys stayed out of her hair, apparently noticing that she wasn't in the mood for playing about.

Ranger wasn't in his apartment so she hurried in and out of the shower, not wanting to run into him while she wasn't fully dressed.

She didn't use the Bvlgari. The constant sensory reminder of him would be too much while his moods and actions could have such a huge influence on how she felt. It would be like an ex-smoker spraying on the smell of cigarettes just in case they forgot the craving for a second. She made a mental note to bring her own showergel to put with her workout things.

When she got back to her cubicle she put a new search into the system and read through the output of the previous one while it churned, marking any abnormalities and interesting details with a yellow marker.

2:30 PM came far too earlier for her tastes. She didn't feel prepared for this at all. Grabbing her gun (for practise) cellphone (to call for help) and keys (to make a quick getaway) she went downstairs.

She'd just reeled in her first target when he came in, nodding approvingly at the paper figure. Six shots. All in the core area of the body. Two of them through the heart.

"You've improved."

He leant against the back wall and gestured for her to continue. She wondered why he'd ordered her to demonstrate her skills. After their discussion earlier, it hadn't seemed like he wanted to be alone with her in close quarters. He'd practically looked her out of his office.

After the fourth reload he came up next to her, gesturing for her to take off the ear protection.

"I've seen enough."

Seen enough for what? Still confused here…

"Want to come on a takedown with us tonight?"

Ah! Now she understood. This was a skill review. Business. Still, it was comforting that he wasn't avoiding her. Maybe in a while they could find some way to be comfortable with each other again.

"What kind of takedown?" How likely am I to get covered in garbage?

"Some girl tried to hire a hit man to take down the people a few houses down. Somehow she made bail, and we've scheduled her for pick-up tonight."

"I'm in."

He smiled just slightly.
"Thought you might be."

He walked over to the chairs that stood in the far corner and settled down into one, motioning her to sit down as well.

"Thought we should talk about Friday."

She grimaced. Contrary to most women, she didn't actually enjoy talking about her feelings. Especially when they seemed to make so little sense.

"Okay…" she pulled a chair opposite him and sat down. "You feel comfortable having this conversation with my gun next to me on the table?"

He gave her a non-plussed look.

"Babe, there are always loaded guns near when we talk. I think you know what I've done to keep you safe; I think you know that I'd never harm you. And if I thought for a moment that you'd ever shoot me, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Right." She'd meant to lighten the mood, but he wasn't in a lightable mood, apparently. He leant his elbows on his knees and took a deep breath. She realised that he seemed to find this as difficult as she did.

That was a comfort. She wasn't used to calm, sensible conversations about things like this. Yelling and door-slamming were to be avoided. She was good with yelling and door-slamming. This kind of conversation had her on shakier ground. At least she wasn't the only one who seemed to find it a little daunting.

He let out a long breath.
"I meant what I said, on Friday night."

"I know you did."

That seemed to surprise him a bit.

"You've said it before," she pointed out mildly.

"Yes… I meant it then too."

"I know."

She wondered if he'd really thought she hadn't believed him. He loved her, in his own way. She'd seen the look in his eyes just after he'd caught her falling from the cupboard in Stiva's hide-away. His own way was a 6-lane highway. His own way was very, very serious.

"If you believe it, why did it get you so angry? If you really believe it, how could you think I would hurt you for my own amusement?"

She sighed, running her hand through her hair.
"I don't know. It wasn't a rational moment, remember? I said things I shouldn't have."

"Babe, rational or not, you didn't make it up. It came from somewhere."

"I wish it hadn't."

"I'm glad it did."

HUH?

His lips quirked a little at her reaction.
"It wasn't good to hear, but I needed to know."

"Needed to know what?" That she'd blow up in his face if he told her that?

"What you feel. Contrary to popular belief, I can't actually read minds. I want you to tell me why what I said made you so angry."

"I… I—" she shut her mouth with a snap. She felt put on the spot, almost interrogated. Why wasn't he telling her why he said that? She hated how off-balance he could make her feel. His approval could put her on top of the world. His disapproval or disappointment could depress her. He could make or break her day.

"I thought it was a new attempt to get me into bed," she finally blurted.

His face went stony. For some reason it didn't stop her now she was speaking.

"Because if you don't want a relationship, but you do say things like that… well what DO you want?"

He didn't answer. She hadn't really expected him to.
"It feels like…" come on Steph, just spit it out. If he didn't want to hear it he wouldn't be insisting on a talk. Time for plain speaking. "...like you've put up this big brick wall right across the possibility that you and I ever become more than friends."

He looked a little pained, but waited for her to continue.

"And every time you kiss me like you did Friday, or say the things you said… it's like you keep pushing me to climb over the damn wall, you know? Because if you don't want me to do something with it… why are you telling me at all? It's not like you couldn't keep it from me. There's loads of things you don't tell me."

She looked into his eyes, trying to gauge how he was taking this. He gave a slow nod. Hopefully that meant he was with her.
"But you keep pushing and it feels like you want me to do something… and I don't want to climb over that wall."

"You don't want to go down that road?"

"I don't even want to try, because you don't want to go there."

He nodded, seeming to understand.

"I think that if I give in and climb that wall, you're going to turn around again and get angry with me for breaching the boundaries. For pushing."

He leant forward on his elbows and stroked his fingertips over her cheeks, so gentle that it took a deep breath to ease back the tears. Not the moment to start crying. No matter how the whole incident had upset her.

He pulled his chair closer so he could cradle her face in his hands, thumbs slowly stroking her cheeks.
"Babe… I didn't know that those words were still standing there. I thought because things were different for me, they could be different for us."

She stared at him.

"You can thank Celia for wielding the clue-hammer at me about this. She made me understand that words like that don't get forgotten."

He leant forward and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

"So I'm telling you that they no longer stand. I meant it then, but I've changed my mind. Things are different now."

She sucked air, suddenly feeling like she hadn't breathed in minutes. What did this mean? What did he mean? What was different?

"And now I don't know if you're still interested… and I don't know how this'll turn out… but I'd like to go out with you."

She stared at him in speechless shock. He… he… what? He'd changed his mind? He wanted to go out with her? Like in, on a date? Did he mean that he was open to the possibility of having a relationship with her?
What if he changed his mind again?

"It'd help if you said something at this point," he said with the hint of a smile.

"What?" what should she say? He hadn't asked anything. And this latest twist had her mind spinning at top speed. Hope warred with caution. She'd longed for him to change his mind on this, but part of her was fretting now that he had. What that really what he'd meant? And if it was, what if it didn't work? What if she put him off like she'd put off the men before him?

"Let me take you out, tonight?"

"Out like on a date?"

"Yeah."

"A date like…" she paused. Say this or not? Aw hell, if they were going to put cards on the table… might as well make sure she understood this correctly.

"Like… two people getting to know each other with the option of getting into a relationship?"

If she'd expected him to flinch and back off and take back his words, she would have been wrong. He just nodded.

"Yeah. Tonight?"

Oh God, he was serious. She blurted the first thing that came to mind.
"Takedown."

He conceded that with a nod. "Good point, it might get late. I have something tomorrow... Wednesday? No, your lesson. Thursday?"

She nodded, her eyes wide. This sounded like an honest-to-God date. He got to his feet and gently pulled her up with him. Her hands almost automatically slid around to his back. He felt warm and solid, undeniably real. That was good, because she was beginning to wonder if this was happening at all.

"Don't fret…" he whispered over her ear, "we'll take it slow." Then, punctuating each word with a kiss along her jaw line, "one… step… at… a… time…" He ended up on her lips, and she felt her fingers curl into the material of his shirt as his tongue touched hers. His hands made slow passes over her back, and her stomach did something weird and fluttery that had her feeling light-headed.

"Scary," she whispered when the kiss finally ended.

"Yeah."

For some reason it comforted her that he agreed with her on that. If he'd approached this subject with his usual self-possessed confidence, she might have shot him after all.

"Okay, so what element do I add to this takedown that you couldn't get from any of the guys?"

Ranger gave her a slightly puzzled look. She was trying to figure out why he had wanted her to come along on this one. So far without success.

"Babe."

Tank slung his kit bag over her shoulder and grinned at her.
"You add Stephanie," he gave it his best infomercial voice. "A rarely found and very precious mixture of intuition, unconventional thinking, empathy and Burg connections. You too can add Stephanie to your projects! Call us now!"

She grinned. He beamed and continued in a sotto voce perfect for the small print, "Stephanie should not be applied to volatile situations. Please ensure that your car insurance is up to date before purchase."

She smacked him on the arm, but he just grinned wider.

"I should put you in charge of RangeMan's PR and marketing," Ranger said.

"No way, man. I like kicking stupid people out of dark basements."

"Don't think much kicking will be involved. As criminals go, this girl is not the brightest light in the sky. Apparently the reason she hired a hit man was to kill everybody living in a place a few houses down. She thought they had a massive chunk of dope on the table and she wanted it."

"So what was it?" Stephanie couldn't resist asking.

Ranger shook his head and chuckled.
"Cheese. A chunk of cheese. The hit man was a vice cop."

"Boy, a well-thought out plan. Almost as good as managing to make a million-dollar bail and then going FTA."

"...And then hiding out at her sister's place," Tank grinned. "I just love it when we get to bust intellectuals."

"How long has she been there?"

"'Bout two days. We been watching the house, but there's seven people living there. I didn't want to do a takedown in a full house. It don't look good when bystanders get shot." She smiled because Ranger was slipping into ghetto speak.

"Specially the kiddies," Tank added. "Papers love that stuff. Not good for business."

They stepped out of the lift and Tank got into the driver's seat. Ranger stopped her a moment before she could get in, and re-secured the Velcro tabs on her vest.
"Thought you'd find this one interesting," he said, apparently in answer to her earlier question. "Plus, it's good to have you with us when it's a female skip."

Ah, that made sense. Any girl willing to hire a hit man to off her neighbours wouldn't hesitate to cry rape if she thought it'd get her anywhere.

"Listen up now," Ranger called up the stairs. "We've got this place covered from all sides and we're not feeling too patient, so in thirty seconds I'm going to come up these stairs and you'd better not be holding any weapons!"

The answer was a stream of unintelligible curses.

"Looks like she found some dope after all," Tank commented.

"It's your party," Ranger answered the woman. "You either go out walking, or in a body bag. Don't matter to me, we get our money either way!"

They heard a clonk as if a weapon was put down and shoved away. Ranger shrugged and walked up the stairs. No shots. Tank followed, and when he could see, gestured for Stephanie to follow. Unless they told her to retreat, she wasn't going to let the skip out of her sight as long as RangeMan had her.

"Damn," Tank voiced the common opinion when the three of them were in the bedroom. Crouched in a corner was the FTA, covered in blood from cuts and scratches. Her pupils were pinpricks in her light brown eyes. High as a kite. And, apart from a short satin night dress that didn't cover nearly enough, naked.

The men took one step toward her and she began to scream, her voice high and hoarse. The few words that could be made out were on the lines of 'don't touch me' and 'assault' and 'rape'. Ranger and Tank exchanged a glance.

"Man, I prefer it when they just want to shoot us," Tank muttered. They approached the woman, clearly looking for a way to detain her with the minimum amount of trouble. As they closed in the FTA however she suddenly rocketed into motion, pushing herself off of the wall and scooting between the two men, low enough by the ground that Ranger's grab came too late. Stephanie, still in the doorway, watched as the woman shot to her feet and made for the exit - and then halting abruptly when she saw the doorway was blocked.

"Hi!" Stephanie said brightly. The two men closed in, and the woman made a desperate lunge at her, trying to somehow slip through. Stephanie caught her by the upper arms, shifted her weight to the side, and let the woman tumble over her hip like she'd practised.
A blinding pain shot down one arm, but she followed the furiously wrestling skip to the ground, put one knee in the small of her back and tried to get both arms twisted behind her back. She didn't quite manage; her right arm hurt, her hand felt useless. A large hand reached into view and presented the skip's other arm. A pair of cuffs dropped down and she put them on to the still-screeching woman.

"Nice work, Steph," Tank grinned, getting up.

"Thanks for the help," she said absently, noting she was covered in blood. At least black didn't really show it. She just had to wash her face. And her elbow was hurting. "Can you find something to cover her up?"

"Ranger's working on it. Man, did she think she had to live up to that high bond?"

She couldn't hear Ranger approach because of the screaming, but a pair of sweats suddenly dangled to her right.

"Get her upright," he instructed. Then, the screaming apparently getting to him, "Be quiet."

His tone was so quietly menacing that the woman closed her mouth with a snap.

Stephanie let up from her back and grabbed a bloody upper arm. Her right arm still wouldn't cooperate. Ranger's hand shot out to haul the skip to her feet.

"You okay?" he asked with a glance to her arm.

"Must have knocked it against the door or something. Hit the whats-it, the funny bone.."

Ranger held the woman as Stephanie held out the sweatpants, and the woman stepped into them as instructed, apparently having realised that being near-naked wouldn't change the fact that she was going to the pokey. He undid the cuffs first one side, allowing her to put her arm through the zipped sweatshirt, cuffing it again, then the other side. Never letting her arms out of control. Put a pair of trainers down and she stepped into them.
When the skip was finally dressed, he marched her downstairs to where Tank was already waiting in the Bronco. She trailed after them.Once the woman was in, he turned to look at her.

"Can you straighten your arm?"

She shook no, keeping it cradled to her stomach. It was hurting a lot more than a few minutes ago. Not like hitting the funny bone.

"Don't like the sound of that. We'll go to the ER for X-rays. Tank will take the skip to the bureau."

"No," she said quickly. "I want to go in that car. The ER can wait 20 more minutes."

His lips thinned in disapproval.

"You brought me along for a specific reason," she reminded him. This was one thing she wasn't going to budge on. "And I will not allow that bitch to ruin Tank's life with false accusations."

"Babe." His tone held a hint of restraint. As if he was resisting the urge to drag her into one of the other cars.

She gave him a my-decision-is-final glare and turned away to pull open the passenger door of the Bronco. Inside, the skip was screeching her head off. Tank looked at her as she settled into the passenger seat.
"You don't look good."

"I'll go to the ER when you've dropped her off."

He shrugged and drove off. Stephanie did her best to ignore the skip, but when she started directing her cursing at her, it became more difficult.

"I hate you, bitch! I'll get you! I'll make sure my cousins get you! They'll come when you sleep!"

She felt the remaining blood drain from her face when hearing that. A person entering her apartment while she was inside was a deeply rooted fear. When she was not there and someone broke in, it was upsetting, but things were just things. The thought that she'd one day wake up to find a less than well-meaning visitor terrified her.

"Shut up," she said. The woman went on, going into gruesome detail. Tank was clenching his teeth, clearly itching to silence her but needing his attention on the traffic. Stephanie reached out to take the stun gun from his belt and turned a little in her seat. Her arm hurt and she wasn't going to sit here listening to this stuff. She pressed the prongs to the ankle of the screeching woman and hit the button. A sudden silence formed in the car.

"Well done," Tank said with a grin. She managed a smile back, but really she felt sickened. She was the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. Finding out where she lived was a matter of minutes if you knew where to ask. And if she was going to do more field work, there'd be people pissed off enough to find out. Something to think about later.

The skip began to wake up just as Tank turned into the docking area of the police station. She screeched about what had been done to her, and then immediately threatened to sue. They both got out and shut the doors, closing the skip in with the noise.

"We got a lawyer for this sort of thing," Tank assured her. "Don't worry about it."

Eddie Gazzara came out to the car. He greeted Tank with a nod and then looked at Stephanie.

"Hey, pizza delivery?"

"The very best. Hope you have earplugs."

"Man, I always get the fun ones," he complained. "You okay, Steph? You look pale."

"Cracked my elbow." And it was hurting like all hell. A black Explorer stopped a few metres away, Ranger behind the wheel. His face was blank, but she could tell by the abrupt way the car stopped that he wasn't happy. Hal got out at the passenger side and walked over.

"I'll take over. You go with the boss."

"'kay." Now the skip was delivered the plan of going to the ER for X-rays was starting to sound like a good idea. She hoped it wasn't broken. Getting a plaster cast four weeks from RangeDay… it'd be a real pain if she couldn't participate in all the fun she was planning.

Tank gave her a gentle nudge toward the Explorer. "Go, girl."

She got into the car and managed to close the door with her left hand. Ranger said nothing, just looked at her face a long moment and drove off.
She hated the thought that he was unhappy with her, but couldn't concentrate enough to think of a way to solve this situation. She'd disobeyed an order from her boss. Not that it was the first time, but…

"That wasn't how I planned for your first takedown to go," he said after a couple of minutes. She blinked and looked at him, not understanding.

"Didn't it go okay?" They'd gotten the skip, right? No ambulances had been required. No need for Morelli to turn up. No bets won or lost – or at least none that she knew of. Counted as a success in her book.

"The plan didn't involve a trip to the ER, Babe."

"Oh."

For some reason Monday evening was a particularly busy night for the emergency room, and an hour later she was still waiting for the X-rays. A kind nurse had provided her with a pre-emptive dose of painkiller, so she was leaning against Ranger's broad shoulder and drifted somewhere between discomfort and fuzzy-brainedness.
She was half aware of a phone call happening at some point, but Ranger was stroking a hand along her back in a slow, soothing rhythm and she was beginning to tune into her own particular form of Zen – nothing existed but Ranger's hand gliding in warm passes along her back.

Some indeterminable time later she felt a change in the atmosphere of the room. Hubbub and conversation stilled for a long moment and then started again, and she opened her eyes a little.
Tank stood in the doorway, holding a small duffle bag. He saw them and smiled wide. She hazily wondered what kind of picture they made, still in urban assault gear, her head nestled against Ranger's shoulder, his arm around her. Then to think that just this morning she thought he'd never speak to her again.

"Man, I can't believe you really broke her arm just to get to hold her," Tank grinned when he'd joined them. She couldn't see Ranger's face, but his muscles tensed, as if he was scowling at his friend. She stuck out her tongue and Tank laughed a little.

"Brought you some clothes, because I'll bet they're going to cut that shirt off of you. AND—" he held up a big paper bag.

"You're a god among men," she mumbled. Pino's! She suddenly realised she was starving. Ranger chuckled.

Tank sat down next to Ranger and informed him in a low tone of what had happened at the bureau. Stephanie tried to follow the conversation while digging into her meatball sub. Apparently he'd given a statement to be ahead of any undue accusations, and he'd contacted the RangeMan lawyer to inform him of what had happened. With any luck they'd avoid further shit. If not, then they had done all they could.

"Oh, Steph, the guys said to tell you this serves you right for having them follow Mary Lou Stankovic around for an entire day."

"They really did that?"

She felt Ranger laugh soundlessly. It was a really nice feeling.

"There were wails of anguish," Tank said gravely.

"Cries of disgust, too," Ranger chuckled. "You have a devious mind."

"Man, I haven't had that much fun since we got new carpet in the office," said Tank.

New carpet was fun? Ranger grinned at her puzzled look.

"The building was carpeted when I bought it, and I left the stuff in. Nothing special, but it was good enough. Then we discovered that when the weather gets dry in winter, you build up static electricity like you wouldn't believe."

"Suddenly we had people using their super mutant powers to zap each other," Tank grinned.

"I never wanted to be the kind of employer that yells 'pick up your feet!' across the workfloor. Everybody was shuffling along."

"I wish I could say this sounds weird, but it's actually not hard to imagine," Stephanie smiled. "Tell me you have this stuff on film."

"Some of it, yeah. I think Ram saved some more stuff. There was a petition to change the company name into X-man," Ranger remembered fondly. "And people spray-painting big silver Xes on shirts. It was insanity for a week or so. Of course, I had to pretend not to be amused."

"I work in a company where everybody is insane," she declared with a grin. "And you know what? I'm not even surprised."

"That's nothing," laughed Tank. "You should have been around when Star Wars Episode 1 came out. Suddenly the boss here appeared in meeting notes as Darth Ranger."

She was listening to the men remembering various other Star Wars-themes highlights and still giggling when the nurse came to get her.

Almost two hours later she was back in the Explorer with Ranger, a painkiller prescription, and a cast. Tank had left while she was in X-ray.

"If I'm very good, the doc said the cast could come off next week and I'll just need a brace for a few weeks," she finished telling Ranger. It had turned out to be a hairline fracture. Not bad enough to need more than a few weeks of rest. Not normally bad enough to plaster either, but they insisted that the Bombshell Bounty Hunter couldn't be trusted to keep calm for that long, so before she knew it she'd ended up with a cast from her knuckles to her upper arm.

"Work from home tomorrow," He said as he helped her out of the car and into her apartment building. "Do whatever you can from here. Laze about the rest of the day. Boss' orders."

"I'll be bored," she muttered.

"Watch Indiana Jones."

She didn't bother to answer that. He wasn't going to budge, and she probably shouldn't try to drive with her arm like this anyway. He guided her to her couch.

"Do you want something to eat?" he was nosing through her fridge.

"Not hungry," she said. Her head kept sinking to the side. She was dirty and exhausted. Currently sleep seemed the more important thing. She'd wash the sheets later.

He returned with a large plastic bag and taped it around her arm. She watched the concentration on his face in wonder.

"You're going to shower," he let her know. She blinked and wondered how he imagined that. He had to help her get up from the couch, and then she leant against him to stay upright.

A couple of minutes later she found out how he imagined that. She was sitting in the bath, arm over the side, he washing her. If she'd been more awake and in less pain, she might have found this arousing or awkward – possibly both. As it was, his manner was perfectly neutral, and she was grateful for the help. The foam that came off her hair as he washed it was pink at first. She didn't want to know what it would have been like if she'd gone to sleep without washing.

"Is this part of the company care for employees that get hurt at work?" she smiled sleepily when he helped her upright and wrapped a large towel around her. He gave her a look that said she was playing with fire.

"Babe."

"Point taken…"

A short time later she was warm in bed, her telephone within reach. She was dimly aware that he stroked her forehead a moment, and then nothing more.

To be continued.

(I meant it about the extra chapters! You're missing something good, and EXTRA will become more integral to the Rangeday story as the story progresses)