Ranger's POV

It had been a long 12 hours. I'd been meeting with the Secret Service advance team to plan security. The open space was both a help and a hindrance. There wasn't a place for an assassin to hide to get off a shot for a quarter mile, and the rooms facing the park at the closest hotel would be reserved for security, campaign staff, and other people we had control over.

The main problem was that while there wasn't a good place for an assassin to hide, there also wasn't a good place to put rooftop security snipers. The Art Museum had a sharply pitched roof, the only way to have someone up there would be to have them suspended by ropes. They would be highly visible, and the sight of rooftop snipers tends to make a crowd nervous.

We had decided to make a temporary structure of scaffolding that would serve as both a platform for security, and a safe place for the President to both enter and exit. We had gone over the staff from Rangeman who would be working the event. They had expressed some surprise at Stephanie, since she had no military or police background, but I told them about her uncanny instincts for sensing when something was out of place. She would be working the crowd, looking for people who might be a threat.

Luckily Frank, one of my newest hires, backed me up on my selection. Frank had been with the Secret Service until 6 months ago. The Sequester meant that he had taken a pay cut, and he had a large family to support, including an ailing mother. Private security paid better, had more flexible hours, and Trenton was far cheaper to live in DC. He had helped us get the contract for the event, and knew the guys still with the agency that we were working with.

"Well, Gentlemen, I believe this has been a productive day. I'll see you in three days in Philadelphia. We can do more then." We shook hands, and I took the stairs, leaving the elevator for our guests.

As I was taking the stairs anyway, I decided to make a quick stop at my office to grab some paperwork. This project would eat up a tremendous amount of staff time, so I wanted to get a jump on the workload.

I passed Binkie looking at the monitors. "Anything unusual going on?"

"Nothing much, except that Bomber is in the gun range."

I stopped at that news. "Alone?" I asked. Babe hated using guns, generally one of us had to drag her in there. I looked at the monitor. It was Steph alright. The floor around her was littered with shells, and there were empty boxes of ammo on the shelf in front of her, as well as a stack of full ones. Something must be off, there was no other explanation for her being in the range at 2200 hours.

"How long has she been there?" I asked Binkie.

"Almost an hour. Came in a little after 2100."

"How did she look? Was she upset?"

"Not sure. She didn't look at the camera much. Had her hair down until she got in there, it covered her face enough to hide any emotions. I figured if she wanted that privacy, I would give it to her."

I nodded, then headed for the range myself. If Steph was here this late, she had a reason.

Normally I rather enjoy sneaking up behind Steph. Having her turn around to face me in the chest, or watching her realize I'm there a moment before I put my hand on her neck is often the highlight of my day. But I know far better than to creep up on someone who is upset and holding a gun. So I looked through the small window in the door to the range until she ran out of bullets, and opened the door while she ejected the magazine to reload.

"Babe." I said, louder than usual because of the ear protection. She looked over at me, and I saw the tension on her face fall away, then suddenly return. She pulled off her earmuffs and shook her hair loose.

"Hey Ranger. I hope you don't mind, I needed some stress relief."

I stepped towards her, resisting the urge to pick her up, press her against the wall, and bury myself in her. Instead I brushed her hair back gently behind her ear.

"Is there a reason for this late night visit? Shouldn't you be home eating junk food with Morelli?"

The instant I said his name I regretted it. As it left my mouth, I realized I didn't want to talk about him. I didn't want to remind her of him, it was always thought of him that made her pull away from me.

And a second later it got worse. The lines a the edges of her eyes tightened, and she closed them, turning her head away. I gently put a finger under her chin to guide her to look at me. "Babe?"

She shook her head and started to reload the magazine. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, fumbling with the bullets. I surreptitiously pushed the button on my key fob to scramble the camera. This could get ugly, and she wouldn't want Binkie watching.

It was at that point I noticed the target she was shooting at. I pushed the button to bring it in, and nearly choked trying not to laugh. It had started as our standard 6 foot outline of a man, but Stephanie had drawn it with a Sharpie. Now it had dark hair a shade too long, a sardonic grin, and a speech bubble with a crude picture of a cupcake on it. And where the crotch would be, there was nothing but a giant hole. It seems Stephanie had gotten better with her SIG p250. Assuming she hadn't ever missed the target completely, every bullet had hit its mark, even if that wasn't the standard bullseye in the torso.

"Relationship issues?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question. The late hour, the attempt to hold back tears, and the castrated paper Morelli all made that pretty obvious. "Want to talk about it?"

She bit her lip. Then asked quietly "Why did you ask me to do that job this morning?"

I blinked at her. "Because you're smart, you have good instincts, and I trust you completely. And Babe, you know there's only a few people I trust in this world. Most of them I served with. A couple of family members. And you. That's it. So why wouldn't I bring you in on an important job?"

She whispered something so low I couldn't hear her. "Babe?"

She spoke up a little, the words coming fast, like the was trying to get them over with. "Morelli said it was just a way for you to try to get in my pants. That I was the worst bounty hunter on the Eastern Seaboard, that I attract disaster, and that the President would probably get hit by a meteor, so no one in their right mind would let me near him."

I was shocked. How could he claim to love her, but say those things? I pulled her into my arms, stroking her hair as she sobed. I murmured softly to her in Spanish, knowing she couldn't understand me, but desperately wanting to comfort her.

Lo siento, Babe. No tendría que haber dicho esas cosas a ti. Eres brillante e inteligente y amable y la luz de mi mundo. Te quiero mucho. Las estrellas están en sus ojos, y que idiota tiene la cabeza en el culo si no puede verlo. (I'm sorry, Babe. He shouldn't have said those things to you. You are brilliant and smart and kind and the light of my world. I love you so much. The stars are in your eyes, and that idiot has his head up his ass if he can't see it.)

It's funny how I can actually tell her I love her when I know she can't understand me. Sometimes I tell her when I'm watching her sleep. Sometimes I tell her when I'm looking at her trackers. But I can't seem to tell her when she's actually in the room with me. At least not in a way that she'll understand.

I nuzzled her hair. It smelled of her shampoo and gunpowder. An unusual mix, to be sure, but the perfect perfume to drive me wild. Get control of yourself Manoso.

I knelt down on one knee to look up her, holding her hands in mine. "Babe, are you going to be OK?

She closed her eyes and turned her head away from me, but didn't pull her hands away. "Yeah, I'm just so tired of never feeling like I can do anything right. He's always putting me down."

"Always?" I thought back to all the times I had seen Morelli with her after a car blew up, or she got kidnapped, or a skip got rough. He's never been as kind and supportive as I'd have thought he should be, but a lot of that I chalked up to him trying to play the Alpha Male when I was around. I figured he was gentle, softer, when they were alone. I knew Stephanie brought out that side of me.

"Babe, what do you mean he's always putting you down?"

"It's the little things. Comments about my job, about how I give him ulcers, and why can't I just get a normal job, or marry him and be a housewife like his mother and grandmother and pop out babies."

I put on my 'blank face'. I was angry, hell. I was livid. But I wanted her to keep talking. "Go on, Babe. What else does he say?"

"It's so hard to pin down, because any little comment seems so petty on its own. But put together, and I realize he's been chipping away at my self esteem from the moment we started dating. Hell, from the time we played choo-choo!"

"Choo-choo?" This was a new one.

"Yeah. When I was six and he was eight. We went into his father's garage, I took off my panties, and I was the tunnel and he was the train."

My body went completely rigid. It took all my control to stay calm. "You mean, he crawled between your legs and looked up at you?"

She blushed. "No, his hands were the train. He said he got to be the train because only girls had tunnels."

I was torn between wanting to storm out of the building and team Morelli limb from limb, and wanting to hold her to my chest and never let go.

"I'm so sorry, Babe." She finally looked at me.

"Sorry for what? That I was a slut all the way back in Kindergarten?"

I winced inwardly at her self recrimination. "No, I'm sorry I didn't see what he was doing to you before. What he's doing to you now, what he's been doing to you for 25 years apparently, is NOT OK. It's abuse. It's manipulative, and designed to wear you down so you won't stand up to him."

I stood up and looked deep into those blue eyes that meant the world to me. "If I'd known how he was treating you I would never have sent you back to him." I took a deep breath. It was time to tell her the truth. "It was the biggest mistake of my life, and believe me, I have made many. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought he could give you what you wanted, needed. I thought I had far too much bad Karma to deserve you. I've been kicking myself ever since. But I thought what I had done was bad for me. I never realized how much it hurt you."

There. I had said it. I'm not an emotionally expressive guy, but looking into those blue eyes I found myself unable to stop. And that's when she kissed me.

It was hot and deep and full of passion. Her hands wrapped around my back and pulled me desperately close to her. My body responded immediately, my dick pressing hard into her stomach. I wanted so badly to tear off her clothes, but I was determined to do this right.

"Babe," I said, pulling away. She looked at me, hurt in her eyes.

"Don't you want me?" she asked in a soft voice, looking unsure of herself. Morelli had done a real number on her.

"I want you desperately, but not like this. You're vulnerable and emotionally raw, and I can't bear the thought of you thinking I took advantage of you.. If we make love, and you regret it, I don't know what it would do to me."

"Dammit, Ranger. I want this, and I know you do too."

"Oh, trust me Babe, I want it. How about this. You come up to 7 and spend the night. We'll fall asleep in each other's arms. In the morning, we both can think more clearly."

She nodded and wiped away a stray tear. Then she took my hand and we walked to the elevator, me scrambling cameras all along the way. She looked frail and puffy, anyone watching would be able to tell she had been crying.

3 minutes later we were in my apartment. She had kicked off her shoes and gone into my dressing room, emerging wearing one of my t-shirts. I had changed into my black silk boxers. We lay on the bed and she was asleep within 30 seconds. I curled up next to her, my body spooning hers, and wondered how in the world I would be able to keep my hands to myself until morning. Turning away a horny Stephanie was harder than I could have imagined, but I was determined not to fuck this up.

"Te amo, Babe." I whispered as I fell asleep holding her.