Recap: Ranger and Stephanie watch the play, then go out for dinner. Dinner gets topped off with a blowjob in the bathroom. They leave the restaurant, but Ranger then says the date went to hell as a cliffhanger. Again, I am mean.

Ranger

I planned this date by looking at lists of the most romantic things to do in Philly. On every list was an art installation called Philadelphia's Magic Gardens. It was a combination gallery, mosaic, and park. The walls, ceilings, and even floors were tiled in small mirrors, bits of ceramic, glass bottles, bicycle tires, and other objects. All of it was held together with various colors of cement. I knew Stephanie would love it, it would be like wandering in a real-life Oz, or Wonderland. At least that was the theory.

I was right about Stephanie loving it. What I hadn't considered was that all the hallways and staircases would trigger so many memories for me. Far from feeling like a magic garden as it did for Stephanie, to me it felt like traveling through an urban battlefield while on acid. The place was filled with corridors and staircases and passages with strange corners. In reality they were as colorful and bright as a child's finger painting. But in my mind they transformed into the dusty grey of a desert city. Memories came unbidden as each landscape reminded me of another horror.

We walked through a narrow hallway that I had to duck to get into. A tiny cave-like room smaller than my armspan, and corridors covered in the bright objects. I put all my energy into acting normal, not wanting her to know about the terrors that were crashing around in my mind. I dropped on my 'blank face', as she calls it. I had been trying to avoid that in front of her. But better that than her see the traces of the memories flashing through my eyes.

I was skirting along a wall, rifle held out ahead of me. Lester was at my back, watching behind us as we inched along the passageway. My goggles were heavy and uncomfortable, my sweat stuck between my skin and the seals that kept out the ever-present dust. I didn't dare lift them to wipe it away though, both because the momentary distraction could get us both killed, and because the sticky feeling of the sweat beat the risk of getting dust and grit in my eyes. A bullet pinged over our head and we scrambled into a small alcove, returning fire. The sound waves reverberating back on us, causing utter confusion as the ceiling started to crumble above us. I kept shooting as Lester grabbed the neck of my shirt and led me backwards while I provided cover fire.

Tank and I were holed up in a small cave in the side of a mountain, eating MREs that just barely qualified as palatable. I was sitting slightly closer the the entrance. In theory, I was acting as lookout, but I'd also wanted the extra light to look at the photo in my hands.

"Seriously, man. Just ask the woman out already."

I glanced up to look at Tank, who was giving me a knowing smirk. He'd figured out how I felt about Steph the moment he'd seen the two of us together. He'd shot the picture I was holding now, the one of Stephanie as she was getting ready to go in and distract a guy while we repossessed his car. The one where she had kept his interest by mentioning how much she enjoyed group sex. Internally I smiled at the memory. Then I sobered. I had to be realistic.

"Sure. What woman wouldn't want to date a guy who picks up and leaves on half an hour's notice, when even the continent he's going to is classified, and stays incommunicado for weeks, or even months at a time. Not to mention the chance of death that makes each mission about as safe as a round of Russian Roulette. I care about her too much to do that to her."

"So instead you find excuses to give her work she's in no way qualified for."

"Hey, she did great on that repo job."

Tank nodded in acknowledgement. "She did. But you brought her into a drug den, and then set her on guard duty. Which she wasn't at all prepared for. She could have gotten hurt in there. And if you'll recall, I did get hurt when she was my partner keeping watch on the building."

He had me there. I should have left her in the car during the eviction, and just had her come up when we were doing the cleanup. But I hadn't wanted her to think I only valued her for doing the scut work. And I'd wanted her in my sight. I had been angry that she had fallen asleep while on guard duty with Tank, but since if she had been upright she might also have gotten shot, I'd gotten over that pretty quickly.

"Look man, once we get Rangeman up and going there will be officework she can do. She's smart, and she can think on her feet. I'm sure she can be valuable. In the meantime you need to think long and hard about any job you give her. Because you're not just putting her at risk on dangerous assignments, you're putting us at risk too. If you want to spend time with her, which obviously you do, take her out to a nice restaurant, not a damn stakeout."

I wanted to respond with something intelligent and cutting. But as much as I hate to admit it, he makes some decent points. "Fuck you, Tank." was all I could come up with.

"Love you too man. And when we get back, just ask her to a fucking movie."

I was deep in a jungle. I wasn't even 100% sure what country I was in anymore, I'd been captured and force-marched for miles through the thick undergrowth. We'd changed directions so many times that I'd lost my bearings, and I'd been close to the point where three countries met up. I could be in anyone of them now. I'd been blindfolded, denied sleep, and starved. After days of travel I'd been chained up in a basement, beaten, and asked questions repeatedly about troop movements, anti-corruption efforts, and defoliation plans.

There is a reason you are supposed to give your serial number, name, and rank when you are captured. It gives you something to focus on. A mantra. Locks your brain onto one thing and uses that to block out the pain. So through the pain and the sleep deprivation and the beatings I focused on one thing, one memory. That single night I'd had with Stephanie. It had been months, but I still saw her lying there naked on her mattress as if it had been the night before. The combination of desire, anticipation and nervousness in her eyes. We had both wanted this for a long time, and I'd been an ass and bargained for it instead of just asking her out like Tank had told me. I'm not sure I ever even planned on collecting on the debt. But when she reacted to finding a dead man in her apartment by putting the couch out in the hallway because of 'death cooties', I...I don't know. It was both adorable and crazy and showed such resiliency. So I tested the water, and found it welcoming.

In my mind I transformed their blows into her caresses. The sleep deprivation was because she had kept me up all night with wanting to go one more time. And the screams weren't mine, but her crying out from orgasm after orgasm I gave to her. And for the days that felt like months, it kept me sane.

I was reliving it for the thousandth time when I heard a commotion upstairs. I was so out of it I could barely tell what was real and what was my imagination. I hadn't had a full night's sleep since I had left Trenton, and the world was filled with a haze that blurred everything. Through my mind's fog I saw her. Stephanie was walking into the room, kneeling in front of me. She unscrewed a bottle of water and held it to my lips. "Here you go Ranger. We've got you." Funny. I didn't know she was a baritone.

I tried to talk with her, but could barely get anything past my lips. "B...b." was all I managed to get out. Did she understand? Could she read in my voice how she had been all I'd thought of, that she had saved me? And what was she doing here in South America? She was in danger, she had to run. "B…" I tried again.

"That's right, it's me Bobby. We've got you man. We'll get you out of here. The pizza in this country sucks, need to get you back to Trenton for a decent tomato pie. "

Bobby. Well, that made more sense than Stephanie being here. As much as I wanted to see her, I was glad she wasn't in danger. And I probably could use a medic. It also explained the baritone voice. He dragged me to my feet, and with his and another soldier's help I stumbled out into the harsh daylight, blinking at the unfamiliar glare. There was a helicopter waiting for me, with food and water and medical supplies. But I was so exhausted I simple collapsed on the floor and fell asleep. And then I dreamed that it was Stephanie putting a soothing salve on my wounds, gently pouring water down my parched throat, and wiping down my blood and dirt caked skin.