Recap: Stephanie meets Ranger's mother, and is surprised to learn his family has known a lot about her for quite some time.

Agent Mary Mankiller looked at Ranger. "Firstly, you should know that your and Stephanie's actions almost certainly saved the life of the president."

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Proud, I guess? But should I be proud, or upset that he had been in so much danger in the first place?

Agent Mankiller had pulled a diagram out of her folder. "When Kennedy was shot, we only had one grainy film to see what had happened. 50 years later it's very different. There were hundreds of people filming, and dozens of good videos of the attack. We've been able to combine the footage to make a 3D model." She pointed to the picture. "The shooter is Dylan Bowers. Right before Stephanie tackled him he had a clear shot at the president. Likely would have been a head shot."

I shivered. It all could have turned out so badly.

"How did he get a gun into the rally? The TSA was checking everyone." I asked, hoping I sounded intelligent.

"3D printed gun. All plastic aside from a small nail. It's a small enough amount of metal to get past the machines. Put the nail in a cell phone case, the bullet in a wallet, and you can walk right in."

Agent Mankiller looked at me. "We've had him in detention for over 48 hours, and he's talking. The original plan was that he and 2 friends would each smuggle in a gun, and all take a shot at the same time."

"What happened to them? Did you catch them too?" I was starting to feel a little dizzy. Perhaps all the stress was catching up with me.

"We didn't need to. We'd already caught them. And we have you to thank for that."

I was puzzled for a second, the information working through my sleep-deprivation addled brain.

"It was the two we caught on Jeweler's Row, wasn't it?" Ranger said. "Where Stephanie cracked the code and figured out where they were meeting."

Agen Mankiller nodded. "No guarantee we would have been able to stop 3 people at once. They only needed one bullet to find its mark. So Dylan decided to go on his own without the others."

I shuddered again. "Was anyone else hurt? And how is the President doing?"

"The president has a bruised rib and fractured wrist from his fall. A hell of a lot better than a bullet to the head. There were a few injuries in the crowd, but nothing serious. Stampede wounds mostly. People stepped on or crushed during the chaos. Nothing life threatening or merriting more than a night in the hospital, aside from Ranger and Ram."

The mention of stampede injuries reminded me of my own. I had been stepped on a couple of times, but hadn't thought about it. I pulled up my pant leg. I had been scraped up enough that I had bled, and the cuts had long since scabbed over, the dried blood a mess that looked far worse than it was. I had completely forgotten. I quickly dropped the pants back over it so no one would notice, and made a mental note that I really should shower at some point.

"Am I interrupting?" Susan had come back into the room, followed by a harried-looking Bobby.

"No, I was just finishing. We'll have more details as the investigation continues, but I wanted to let you know the important stuff." Agent Mankiller said, scooping up her papers. She took Ranger's hand and shook it. "I'm sorry you got hurt, but if you hadn't been there the consequences could have been catastrophic."

I gave her a hug before she left. "Thank you for letting us know that everyone is OK."

She grinned. "There was one casualty. Despite the car being designed to survive a rocket launcher, somehow some metal from the scaffolding punched through the undercarriage of the Presidential Limo. It punctured the oil pan, causing the oil to leak out, which fried the engine when it raced over here. Also the bullet-proof glass was shattered in the windshield when Ram fell. The car isn't destroyed exactly, but it needs more repairs than it ever has."

"If you need to borrow something to keep him safe, I know a powder-blue Buick that is completely indestructible." said Ranger with a completely straight face.

It was me, Susan, Bobby, Lester, Celia, and RangeMom (whose name was Maria, but now I was going to struggle to call her that) sitting around Ranger's bed. Susan looked at her clipboard, filled with papers.

"This is the situation. We can't do an MRI because of the shrapnel, so we are stuck with X-rays and ultrasounds. That means there's less certainty in what I'm telling you than we would otherwise have. Right now my prognosis is that Ranger will probably be able to keep his leg, but won't regain full use of it. You'll be able to walk with assistance, which might improve with Physical Therapy. But running is a long way off, and no marching around in the jungles anymore. That artery may never be quite as strong as it once was, so you really should try to avoid getting shot. It's a terrible habit to be in anyway. Assuming no complications, we can send you home tomorrow afternoon."

We all sat in stunned silence. Then we all reached out and hugged Ranger, careful to avoid his leg. Was it good news? The fact that he was unlikely to lose his leg certainly was. But imagining him needing help walking, of him being vulnerable, was so alien. I had seen him mentally vulnerable, but not physically. This would be all new territory.

The next afternoon Ranger and I rode in the backseat of a Rangeman SUV. It was odd for him to not be driving. Tank was in the captain's chair, with Lester next to him. RangeMom and Celia in the back. The rest of the team had already left for home. Even though he wasn't driving, Ranger watched the road, checking behind him, always looking for threats. I leaned against him, and was asleep before we hit the highway.

We were greeted at HQ by every RangeMan employee, contractor, and temp lining the wall in the parking garage. As Bobby wheeled Ranger along to the elevator, everyone applauded. The concrete room roared with the sound of the cheers and claps, still audible when the doors of the elevator closed.

We entered Ranger's apartment, only to see Hector packing up tools in the foyer. "Acabo de terminar las modificaciones, jefe." (Just finished the modifications, boss)." he said as he slipped past us.

"Modifications?" I asked.

"I had Hector add some support bars in a few places around the apartment." Said Bobby. "They'll help him get around. Especially in the bedroom and bathroom."

Bathroom. That sounded amazing. I grinned, and looked down at Ranger. "Mind if I grab a shower while you get settled?"

"Sure, Babe." he said, holding my hand for a moment before releasing me. I went to his plush bathroom and closed the door. Next to the toilet and the sink were metal bars bolted into the wall. I opened the shower, and saw another one there, as well as a shower chair. I pulled off my filthy clothes and stepped into the shower. It had been 3 days, I'm not sure I've ever gone that long without a shower, aside from a stint at Girl Scout camp. And maybe a time or two when I had been kidnapped.

The face that there were multiple times I had been kidnapped, and that I couldn't remember every detail, was truly fucked up.

I spent at least 30 minutes washing, conditioning, shaving, conditioning, plucking, and conditioning. I used at least $10 worth of Bvlgari Green as I tried to scrub the last few days away. But no amount of time in the water could cleanse the fear, the adrenaline, or the panic from my memories. Wouldn't hurt to try though, and boy did I.

I finally finished and wrapped myself in one of Ranger's long terry cloth bathrobes. I realized that I didn't have anything to change into with me, so I peeked out the door into Ranger's bedroom, hoping I could scamper to the closet without too much embarrassment. Ranger was lying there, alone, reading a book on his Kindle. "Is the coast clear?" I asked. "Can I cross to the closet without running into your mom in your robe?"

"Everyone is gone. I told them to go get dinner, and I needed a nap."

I stepped out. "I thought they were going to help get you settled."

He put down the book. "There's something I need far more than their help."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" I asked.

"You."

He reached out and pulled me closer to him, then pulled the tie of the robe, letting it fall open.

He whispered one word. "Babe."

OK, only one or two more chapters. Any loose ends you really want to see tied up?