Not mine, but a girl can dream.

Warning: language and smut.

Thanks to Rach who makes it better and so much more fun!

Better Man 19

Storyline borrowed from Lean Mean 13

After the pizza was gone we switched to beer and tried to plan, mixing business with pleasure. Considering I loved my job, worked with my friends and was sleeping with the boss, the line was a constant blur anyway.

"So where's the clock Beautiful?" Lester asked the 40 million dollar question.

Shaking my head and shrugging, I answered, "I don't have a clue." Taking a long drink from my beer I thought back to the day I planted the bugs on Dickie. It was only a week and a half ago, but it seemed like eons. The images of that day ran through my head. I saw Ranger that morning. He gave me the bugs to plant and a kiss that nearly sent my panties up in flames. Yum. Okay, then I was with Lula and Connie, running like hell out of Dickie's office while his secretary called the police. I saw us getting into my car, throwing our bags in the trunk – "The trunk!" My voice was a lot louder than I'd intended, but this was my life we were talking about, not to mention $40 million dollars. I turned to Ranger. "It's in the trunk of my POS! Remember the one that died out by Diggery's trailer? You had to come and pick me up and battle the snake?" I shivered at the thought of the reptile.

Lester's eyes were dancing, "Steph, the snake? I thought you guys were going to keep your sex life under wraps. I don't need to know nicknames!" Tank immediately smacked Lester on the back of the head and I felt Ranger tense next to me and a low growl come from his throat. Shit.

I turned to Ranger and put my hand on his chest in an effort to keep him from flying over the table to beat the shit out of Lester. Tank looked like he might help him. "No guys, it's okay. Lester and I talked. He apologized and I accepted. We came to an understanding. Lester not teasing me is like a Boston crème without the filling. It's just wrong and not nearly as much fun. Leave him alone."

I could feel Ranger relax under my hand. He used his arm around my shoulder to turn me to him and he kissed me long and hard. "You never disappoint Babe." I thought seriously about climbing into his lap to continue this, but Tank interrupted my thoughts.

"Bomber, I know Lester apologized, but I need to too." It was strange to see a 300lb black man acting so timid.

I smiled to reassure him, "No problem Tank, I know you didn't mean any harm. So where's my car? I remember Ranger saying you would take care of it. Where do my cars go to die?"

Huge grin from Tank, "Well, that depends on the car. I have a complete chart in a file at the office." I rolled my eyes. He ignored me and continued, "The ones that are charred beyond recognition go to the dump. Then there are the ones that are mangled all to hell and they go to the scrap yard and the ones that just give up the ghost go to Al's to see if he can use anything for parts."

Feeling extremely mature, I flipped him the bird. I knew I had bad luck with cars, but usually it wasn't my fault. I can't help it that I attract psychos. "Fine. Where did this last POS end up?" I huffed.

"Al's." Great! Problem solved! "But he called me and said it was worthless so I had to pay to have it towed to the scrap yard. Bastards wouldn't even give me any money for it. I had to pay them to take the damn thing." He looked disgusted.

"Okay, so let's head over there and get it." I popped up out of the booth and nearly fell over. I guess I had more beer than I thought. Lester grabbed my arms to steady me.

"Beautiful, I wish you were my girl. You're a cheap drunk." Lester teased me. He sat me back down next to Ranger who immediately pulled me to him, giving me a kiss that curled my toes.

"Mine," he growled at Lester, "Get your own." I giggled.

Tank voted himself the voice of reason, "Bomber, it's Saturday night and it's dark. I don't think it's the best time for us to be running around in a junk yard. I'll call and see if we can get in tomorrow. Plus I don't think you're in any condition to go anywhere."

"Tank," I whined. "Come on, I've had like two beers! The sooner we find this the sooner we can get the psycho with the flame thrower off my ass. Plus, who knows if anyone is watching me? Maybe we need to be covert about this and go when they wouldn't expect it."

Tank, Ranger and Lester all had some sort of Vulcan mind meld that didn't include me. Finally Tank sighed and Lester grinned. Ranger was the voice of authority. "Babe, we'll go check it out, but you have to stay in the car. I don't want you running around in your condition."

"My condition?" What the hell does that mean?

Ranger chuckled, "Come on, you'll probably fall asleep on the way there anyway."

I shot him a death glare, but it seemed to have no effect. He steadied me as we headed to the cars. Les and Tank took the Cayenne and Ranger lifted me into his truck. God I love this truck. It made me feel safe and warm and apparently very sleepy.

~X~

Shit. I was in the truck, alone, in the dark, with a headache. I must have fallen asleep. Why didn't anybody wake me up? Where the hell am I? It was pitch black outside. If I wasn't inside Ranger's truck I might have been worried I'd been kidnapped again. A light in the rearview mirror caught my eye - a flashlight, no, two flashlights. The scrap yard! We came to find my POS and the key card. The jerks decided to start without me. I snatched my Maglight off my belt and grabbed the door handle. What the fuck? There was a handcuff on my door handle. And the other cuff was attached to me! Sonofabitch. Ranger handcuffed me to the car like a god damn skip. Or like Morelli cuffed me to my shower rod. I briefly considered calling Joe to release me out of sheer irony, but immediately shelved the idea.

I was fuming. What the hell was he thinking handcuffing me? There are situations in which Ranger restraining me would set my panties on fire, but this wasn't one of them. They were out there working my case! "Shit." I cursed under my breath trying to figure out a way out of the cuffs. My purse! I had a cuff key in there! It was dark in the cab of the truck, but there was the occasional beam of light from the guys' flashlights. I caught a glimpse of my purse on the floor. It was just beyond the center of the floor, the part that sloped down to the driver's side.

I reached out with my arm, but it wasn't nearly long enough. Crap. I stretched my leg across the floor of the truck. Not quite, just a little farther. I was nearly off the seat with my left leg stretched like I was going to do the splits. Had I not been doing some serious aerobic exercise with Ranger in the last few days I would be in some serious pain. Now it was just uncomfortable. The toe of my boot reached my purse and I was able to snag the straps and haul it to me. Yes! Unfortunately I was still doing the splits. I slowly worked my leg back towards the rest of my body and sat back. I tucked my Maglight under my chin and started to dig through my purse. Duh Steph, you could have used your flashlight to see around the cab earlier.

I found Tastykake wrappers, ATM receipts, bullets, and a whole packet of Tic Tacs which apparently spilled out of their container. I popped a couple in my mouth citing the five second rule. Finally! The keys. I angled the flashlight towards my hand and tried to unlock the cuffs. Why couldn't he have cuffed my left hand? I worked it for a couple minutes. It was a no go. Crap. The key doesn't fit. Now what? Lester! My God, Lester Santos is a genius! Who would have thought that would ever cross my mind?

I started digging in my purse again and quickly came up with what I was looking for. I took the bobby pin and straightened it out before inserting it in the lock on the cuff. No go. What was it Lester said when I got frustrated? 'Do or do not, there is no try.' Yes Yoda. If only I could use my right hand, but since the cuff was on my right I couldn't angle my wrist to get to the lock on that cuff. Then lightening stuck me: I could use my right hand to unlock the cuff on the door handle! I started to work the lock with my makeshift pick. It took three minutes and lots of creative swearing, but I shouted "Yes!" and did a little happy dance in my seat.

Done celebrating, I grabbed the door handle and made my way into the night, the cuff still dangling from my wrist. I could see the tall chain link fence with razor wire at the top. No way in hell was I going to make it up over that. Guess I'd have to find another way. The guys had to have gotten in there somehow. I crept along the fence, finally finding a spot where the fence was bent and dug out underneath. Looked like the work of a dog. Judging by the size of the hole, it must have been a big one. No way Tank would have fit, but it didn't look like I'd have any problem. I lay down on my back and shimmied under the fence. I was thankful for my junior high title of limbo queen. Clearing the fence I set out in search of my car and the guys; even if I was pissed, it was a little creepy out here and I wasn't too keen on being alone. I could kick Ranger's ass when we got back home. I was angry and hurt that he would deliberately leave me out of an investigation, the handcuffs just made my blood boil.

I searched stacks and stacks of cars. They were piled up to six high. I just hoped I wasn't going to have to climb that high to look in the trunk. I passed from the area where there were stacks of cars into an area that was just stacks of metal squares. Crunched up metal squares. Shit. One of those crunched up cubes could be my car and by the looks of them, the clock would be toast and so would I. Searching through the stacks I started to smell something. I thought maybe it was a dog or one of the goodies a dog leaves behind. I wouldn't be surprised if a place like this had a guard dog, although I hadn't seen any, but if there were, I was sure the Rangemen had neutralized them.

I followed my nose, realizing it wasn't a dog, but it was definitely familiar. Squirrel. Dead Squirrel. Make that dead stuffed squirrel. Fuck! There in a stack of crushed car cubes was my piece of shit car. There was no mistaking the smell or the lettering on the side. A few days before it died of natural causes someone painted PIG CAR on its side. Now it just said PR. I wanted to scream. Instead I flipped open my phone and hit speed dial 1.

"Babe?" Ranger sounded surprised to hear from me. I'm sure he thought I'd still be either passed out in the car or helplessly held captive. I tamped down my anger.

My tone was even, "I found the car."

"Where are you?" He sounded worried. Jerk.

I shrugged, then remembered he couldn't see me over the phone, "No idea. Somewhere in the junkyard." Duh, I wanted to add, but thought better of it.

"Take your flashlight and aim it straight up for me and then move it back and forth for a minute."

I did as he asked, waiting for my next set of instructions, trying to keep my cool.

"Be there in two," he said before abruptly disconnecting. I was trying to stay calm. I was somewhere in between wanting to scream and cry, but after this morning's disaster, not willing to lose it in front of the guys. This was between Ranger and me. Or should I say Overprotective Ranger; I liked him about as much as I liked Noble Ranger. I took the cuffs and slid them under the sleeve of my sweatshirt, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing them.

True to his word Ranger was there in two minutes, if not before. Tank was close behind. I tried not to look them in the eye. Since we were in the dark it was pretty easy to do. Ranger put his arm around me briefly and dropped a kiss into my hair. I resisted the urge to stomp on his foot, but just barely. I shined the flashlight upwards to what used to be my car.

"What a fucking mess," Ranger muttered. That pretty much summed up my night.

We decided we couldn't do much at this late hour, but would call the owner tomorrow in hopes of un-crunching my car if that was even a possibility. Tank took off to find Lester and Ranger and I made our way back to the truck. We came to a gate where Ranger picked the lock, letting us both through before relocking it.

Casually, Ranger asked, "How'd you get in Babe?" I wanted to kick him in the shin.

"Wriggled under the fence," my voice was tight. I would not lose it here, if I could just make it back to the apartment or at least the truck.

Ranger's arm reappeared on my shoulder, "Proud of you." Normally those words would make my heart flutter, now they were just pissing me off. He noticed when I stiffened. Luckily it was too dark for him to see my face. "You alright Steph?" Was he kidding me?

"I'm tired Ranger. I just want to go home." Ranger's oblivious attitude had tipped the scale past angry and into the red zone of seriously pissed off. He knew how I'd felt when Joe had pulled this stunt and I would have sworn Ranger had more respect for me than that. His oblivion felt like more of a betrayal than the cuffs themselves had been. When we reached the truck I hurried around to the passenger side and climbed in before Ranger could do it for me.

When I closed the door I realized I had returned to the scene of the crime and that was it. I lost it. Angry tears were pouring down my face. Ranger climbed in on the driver's side and started the engine. The automatic overhead light in the cab had been turned off for stealth movement, but right now I was grateful for a whole different reason.

Ranger reached over to pull me in close for a kiss and I stiffened. "Babe?" Amazingly enough for once in my life I remained quiet. I knew if I tried to speak the silent tears would turn into loud sobs. He'd started the car and there was a glow from the dashboard lights. He put his hand under my chin and tried to turn my face to look at him. I refused. We both knew he could make me if he really wanted to, but he didn't. Instead he picked me up and set me in his lap. I protested immediately. He was so caught off guard that I made it all the way to the passenger door before he could react. I thought about jumping out, but I didn't know where we were. I was stupid, but not that stupid. I turned my head, staring out the passenger window into the dark night. I got my tears under control, but the anger was beginning to boil over. He was acting like everything was just fine and dandy.

"Steph?" His voice was soft, apprehensive, "What's wrong?" What's wrong? Was he joking?

I turned and growled at him, "You're a real asshole you know that?"