All familiar characters are Janet's. Mistakes are solely mine.

"I really wanna know now," my wife informed me.

"I know you do, Babe, but you have enough on your plate right now to serve One Shot up to you on one."

"You usually surround yourself with the best of the best, genuinely good people, why do you think I'm going to hate him?"

"You won't hate him. But you'll likely have to get your mind around a few things before you see him as the man he is today instead of who he was when he and I met."

"Come on ... give me something that'll distract me from my daddy issues. Olive, maybe you can flash Daddy the big eyes like I showed you. You remember how we do it, don't you?"

That was said along with a demonstration of two beautiful blue eyes widening and retracting, following closely by equally heart-melting brown eyes that mirrored the blue. Never being able to deprive Stephanie or my daughter anything they want, I came up with an adequate tease.

"You ladies win," I told them, momentarily sitting on the arm of the couch just to be near them. "You could say that One Shot inadvertently got me into seeing bounty hunting as a career option."

Her mouth dropped open before it quickly snapped shut. She's smart. Olivia's fingers won't hesitate to go on an excavation into anything left open and unguarded. At this point, I wouldn't put it past my daughter to be able to hook a fish using only one tiny digit of hers. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to Steph's while they were resting peacefully together.

"Tank's here," I told her less than a beat after I released her mouth.

I said those two words before we both heard his distinctive two-knock cadence against our front door.

"You know it really freaks me out when you go all 'Radar' on me," my wife said as I stood up.

"I'm aware that it does, but would you rather me stay quiet and leave you to be surprised every time someone comes to our door?"

She sighed forcefully enough that I believe Olive was able to catch the disgruntled carbon dioxide release.

"No, but maybe you can start giving me pointers on how I can do the same," she replied.

"Your instincts are good, Babe, but I don't think you want them as hair-triggered as mine are."

"Maybe not, but I'd like to be able to decide if being too prepared is a bad thing or not ... by actually being aware of everything around me at all times."

I thought the same before I learned that once your brain is tripped, it stays that way permanently. And that's something I'd never wish on anyone, especially for someone I love more than my own life.

"Would you like to go with Daddy and open the door for Uncle Tank?" She asked our baby.

I felt another chink in my armor when Olivia started to slide down from her Mama's lap where they'd been sitting on the couch as soon as she heard 'Go with Daddy' as an option. Armed with that knowledge, and me not being a jealous man unless Stephanie is involved, I smiled as Olivia toddled out of the room after me. I opened the door to my best friend and stood back to catch his and my baby's greetings to each other.

Gunny and Mo forged right ahead to get their heads scratched and try for a treat if Tank happened to have any on him, but Olivia froze behind the four of us. It was as if she needed the energy from her entire body to power the smile she hit Tank with. It is a highly effective weapon and we both nearly succumbed to the impact it had on us. But Tank and I already know what was coming. And just like her Mama ... Olivia did not disappoint. She literally hopped like a bunny backwards a few feet so she could have a running start, and then she hightailed it to her godfather and encircled what she could of his legs with her arms.

Being as in love with her as I am, Tank took a mock-step back as if her almost two-year-old self had been powerful enough to knock his massive body back a foot.

"Umph ..." he feigned loudly, not smiling even when Steph gave him a 'you're so full of shit' look. "With an almost-takedown like that one, Olive-Pit, maybe we're focusing on the wrong sport."

"Nothing about football looks pain-free," Steph reminded him. "You two can stick to basketball and golf, though I've seen Olive wielding a pinata stick, so maybe not even golf for our bloodthirsty little one."

Now he grinned as he leaned down and hefted our daughter up in a fireman's carry. She laughed as she found herself in an altered state, and she began waving to her dogs with both hands from her upside down position.

"Since you're already here, you can amuse Stephanie and Olivia," I informed him. "I have a place to be."

"Since when?"

"Since he got a call saying a guy he wants to keep me away from is downstairs," Steph answered for me.

"Who?" He asked.

"One Shot," I informed him.

He continued down the hall with Olivia, but he let a quiet whistle escape in his wake. "That fucker's still alive."

"Yes," I answered, "and is currently here looking for employment."

"Clearly Tank's on my side regarding this guy," Steph said to me.

"He's changed, Babe, like we all have. Just give him a chance. While I'm gone, Tank can fill you in on the 'phone dates' he's been engaged in over the last few days. That makes two distractions I gave you. You're welcome."

I left after a kiss for each of my ladies and with five sets of stares boring into my back. Three happy, one now curious, and another pissed off. Tank will get over it after an afternoon of Olive-interaction. If he doesn't want anyone to know what he's up to, he shouldn't do it on company time.

I took the stairs and slipped on a mask as I entered one of Rangeman's holding rooms. Atlas Rossicott, aka One Shot, has a smaller build than most of the men I employ. And while he's not unattractive, his features are so nondescript, they make him easily forgettable. Which is what helped him become so damn good at his old job until I became his last one in that particular field. He's so unassuming, he could be standing right beside you for hours and you wouldn't be able to describe him to police or pick him out of a lineup.

"Still a funny guy?" I was asked, as soon as his different-colored eyes landed on me.

"For not chancing my family's health despite your claim of being healthy, or for sticking you in a nicer version of a cell to wait?"

"You pick," he said.

"I have another appointment to get to. I don't have time for games right now. How long are you in town for? And do you need a place to stay on top of a job?"

"Don't know and maybe. I do have a car."

"Have you gone back to your old ways?" I had to ask.

"No, which means I couldn't stick around a place that wasn't looking like its direction was headin' towards my best interest."

"Good answer. You can hang out here until Vince tells you that an apartment is ready. Be warned, if there's even a hint of trouble associated with you ... you're out. No questions asked and no excuses heard."

"I'm clean in every sense of the word. You're for sure married with kids now," he said, almost to himself more than to me.

"I am. You'll see why as soon as you check out and I'm free for a longer stretch of time."

"Word on the street is the wife's a hellcat."

I nodded. "She doesn't take any shit and she is extremely protective of those she loves."

A ghost of a grin twisted the corner of his mouth while he put both hands up in surrender. "Consider me warned again. You can tell the missus I come in peace before she tries to gut me."

"I can tell her that until my voice is shot, and she won't believe it until she sees and feels it for herself. You're on notice until that happens."

"I got time," he said, not looking too concerned.

He wouldn't, since he doesn't have firsthand knowledge of the power Steph commands all on her own. If she's worried at all about Olivia, Julie, or myself, she'll dismember the threat herself.

"I'll stop in after you're settled," I told One Shot.

He hesitated. He talks a big game, but underneath ... he's still figuring out how to be just himself and have that be enough.

"Thank you," he finally said.

"I told you then and I'll say it again now ... I believe you can be anything you want to be. And I'm willing to help you achieve that as long as you continue to do better for yourself."

"I am ... that's why I'm here."

"Then you made the right decision. When I catch up with you later, you can catch me up on what you've been doing and then I'll figure out where your particular talents can work to my company's advantage." My cell buzzed and a quick glance at the text had me turning towards the door. "I'll be in touch," I said over my shoulder.

I took the stairs two at a time up to four, hoping to catch Stephanie before she disentangled herself from our daughter and our dogs and reached Frank's apartment. She wonders why I keep myself in peak physical condition. It's for days when I need to beat an elevator someplce. She continues to look surprised that I always manage it without breaking a sweat.

"I told you it's okay, to take your time with what's-his-face. I can deal with a bumped-up appointment as well as you can," my wife promised me.

"If Frank's in a hurry to get this session over with, Steph, that doesn't bode well for you walking into a calm environment."

"I am made up of half of his genes, and you saw how nervous I was even when you kept reminding me that this isn't my mess to clean up. I can only imagine the nerve-torture he's going through right now when he's on the chopping block."

"Even so, you will not sacrifice yourself for him. You deserve to be heard and he needs to be strong enough to listen to every word you have to say to him."

For the second time in ten minutes I was thanked for just pointing out what's true.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I want to do this so maybe I can finally have what I'd always wanted with my dad, but I really, really wish I was back upstairs playing with Olive and Tank."

"Keep that as the rewarding light at the end of this tunnel. The faster we deal with this, the quicker we can rejoin them. So don't question yourself or second guess what you share with your father. Say exactly what you feel so it'll finally be out in the open, and then we can start sorting it out and get back to the fun soon after."

She smiled. "Alright. Let's get the freak show on the road."

I knocked on Frank's door and he let us in with a gesture indicating that the Doc is ready for us in the living room. After a few apologies from both men about changing the time by almost two hours, and a little small talk about what's happening in the world beyond Rangeman, we all sat down and Steph did what she set out to. She took a fortifying breath, squeezed my hand, and picked the emotional-road not usually taken.

"I guess what I really want to know is ... what exactly were you seeing all those years, Dad? When I'd run away to Grandma's house because I hated ours, when you learned that Joe had written about me on the sides of Burg businesses across town, when you heard Mom tell Val and I repeatedly that we need to be married and act like her clone to amount to anything, what were you seeing from your recliner? Were you really able to focus that hard on a game or TV show and just tune us all out? Or were you actually so busy going over ways you think you could've saved Gioele in your mind, it left you completely unaware of the two little girls right in front of you who desperately needed saving too?"