You don't hear much from the tunnel. Sometimes there's a muffled sound, but you can't really tell what's going on. You can't tell if there's gunfire or bombs going off or people you love dying. That's what sucks about being in the tunnel. I put my hand on my still flat belly protectively as I imagined the possibilities going on above me. There was a day when I would have fought to stay in the thick of things. There was a day when I would have glared at Ranger and demanded he let me stay. Oh, I'd still end up in the tunnel, or the ivory tower or the safe house, but I'd have fought to fight alongside my friends. But these days, I endured it without a whimper. If I was up there with them, I'd risk losing my baby. And the baby could be the only piece of her father that I'd ever have. After a while I got up and paced. I was happy that I hadn't lost the contents of my stomach with the motion of the car chase, but I was getting to a point where I'd need a toilet soon. I'd have to talk to Ranger about the possibility of installing plumbing and a little bathroom down here. It couldn't hurt. Given my delicate condition and our propensity to land in these situations, that could turn out to be a necessity.

While I waited I decided to kick around some names for the baby. I ruled out Edna and Ellen right away. I even ruled out Helen. Some of my mother's friends called her that on occasion, although I couldn't tell you why. Grandma Mazur also slipped and called her Helen on occasion. I don't know if she did it to piss Mom off, or if she was just a little senile. I dismissed Valerie and Mary Lou after that and then Lula with a grin. Plus there were a bunch of names from Ranger's side of the family as well I would probably need to consider. Abruptly I shook my head and smiled. This baby wouldn't be anyone other than who she was. The only expectations she'd have to live up to would be her own. There would be no burg life requirements. If she wanted to get tattoos and join a circus when she turned twenty-one, so be it. No…this baby would have to have her own name. It wouldn't be recycled. It would just be hers. Maybe her middle name could be Edna, Ellen or Louisa. I'd have to consider that one.

Lester is the one who got me out. He hugged me and followed me to the bathroom.

"So, was anyone hurt," I asked from behind the closed doors.

"No, they didn't breach the perimeter. Mitch and Ranger are talking to TPD and the feds. TPD called in the FBI."

"Really," I said as I exited the bathroom drying my hands.

"Really," he nodded. "They discussed the possibility that it could be revenge for something either of them have done for the government and decided that the feds were better equipped to handle this kind of assault."

"So the general consensus is that we're fucked," I sighed.

"Yea," he nodded with a crooked grin. "Marcos is up there with his new partner."

"You're kidding," I shook my head.

"He's just as cocky as ever. I don't know how Brian stood him."

"Me either," I sighed.

"He blames you for Brian's leave of absence."

I shook my head. "Yea, I made his mother a murderer," I rolled my eyes. "Marcos doesn't have good instincts."

"No, he doesn't," he sighed.

"That's what the FBI sent us? This is all that stands between Ranger and Mitch and a hit?"

He nodded.

"We're well and truly fucked," I sighed.

"They want to ask you some questions."

"I'm sure they do," I shook my head and started up the stairs. "But they better remember this is my house."

He grinned, "Ranger already reminded them."

"Good," I said and detoured at the top of the stairs for the kitchen. I immediately started brewing coffee in our big industrial pot. I remember telling Ranger that we wouldn't need it when he wanted to register for it. He got his way. He usually does. In any case…about the coffee urn, I was so wrong.

Lester and I started distributing coffee as soon as it was done and I'd put on another batch. Lester figured there were at least thirty people there, so we'd poured the entire first brewing knowing we'd need more.

When I got to Ranger, he was with Marcos. "Coffee," I smiled at my husband and bent to kiss his head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said taking a cup.

"Agent Marcos," I offered him a cup.

"Thank you," he said taking it with a frown.

"Cream and sugar," I asked.

"Both," he nodded.

I passed him the cream and sugar and waited.

"Are you hungry," I asked Ranger.

"Not yet," he shook his head.

"What about pain? Are you in any pain?"

"No," he smiled and kissed my hand. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

I nodded and started to walk away.

"Mrs. Manoso, we do have some questions for you," Marcos said and raised his coffee cup.

"Sure," I nodded. "If you'd like to know that I saw nothing during any of the instances, I'd be happy to make it official. Ranger keeps covering me up."

"Nothing at all," he frowned.

"My husband is extremely protective," I smiled serenely, "especially now that we're expecting a child."

He blinked in surprise, "oh."

"I didn't see anything. I don't know anything. I doubt I can assist you in any way. But if you need me to say it more officially, I will." I headed back to the kitchen to reload the cream and sugar and fill a carafe with coffee before I headed back out.

Mitch was in the kitchen sipping coffee when I got there.

I put my tray down and let him wrap his arms around me.

"You're okay," he said softly in my hair.

"I'm good," I nodded.

"We are going to get through this Stephanie."

"I know," I sighed and pulled away. "You or Ranger must have pissed somebody off pretty bad."

"Probably both of us have," he shrugged. "It's the nature of the job. I've been out for a long time, but I've seen things. I'm just wondering what I saw or did that would bring someone after me now. As far as I know, that's my distant past. I've been out even longer than Ranger has."

"I know," I sighed. "None of it makes sense. Ranger's been out for months now. It seems that if someone wanted him dead from one of his excursions into the wind, they would have found a way to get it done before now. I mean, why wait?"

"That is what I was thinking."

"And he hasn't been in the news any more or less in the last couple of years. What about you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Before this job, you know I was on the cruise ship doing some undercover work, well you know all about that. Before that, I worked for the pop star. Before that I worked for TBI."

"TBI," I frowned

"Tennessee Bureau of Investigations," he nodded. "I was an investigator."

"And you didn't stir anything up then?"

"No," he shook his head. "I didn't even blend into anything the whole time I was with TBI. I was in the field, but I rode a desk as much as I did field work. That's why I don't do it anymore. It was boring. It's been six years since I've been in a position to stir anything up. I don't know where this is coming from."

I sighed. "Me either."

"You'll figure it out. You'll get one of your famous tingles and the whole thing will come together."

"Famous tingle," I muttered and picked my tray back up. Little did they know, I'd already had a famous tingle. It just didn't make sense.

Hours later it was just Ranger and I in the bed and we were finally alone. I was staring up the ceiling frowning thoughtfully.

"What's up Stephanie," he said rolling over to his elbow to look at me in the moonlight.

"Just something weird," I sighed.

"What kind of weird," he asked. "Are we talking tingle weird?"

"Yea," I sighed.

"When did you get it?"

"At the office this afternoon," I admitted. "I don't even know what it was about it. It was very unfocused, you know what I mean. I just felt that something was not right. I couldn't narrow it down. It's so friggin frustrating."

"Do you have any ideas," he asked brushing curls from my face.

I turned to him, "I have a feeling it's related to the government in some way. It's either something you did or Mitch did for them. It's something…something weird."

He shook his head, "you can't tell who the focus is?"

"No," I shook my head. "And I don't want to separate you to find out either just in case the one who is the target ends up dead."

He frowned and nodded thoughtfully. "So you're not picking up anything specific yet?"

"Not yet," I sighed.

"You will," he assured me.

"Will it be too late when I do," I asked.

"It never has been before," he said seriously.

"I think your idea of too late and my idea of too late may be different there buddy," I sighed. "Brian's mother is dead. Morty is dead. Dickie is dead."

"Honey that was the best outcome for all concerned except for Dickie and you have to know that," he said seriously.

"I don't know anything," I sighed. "I just know that I'm really tired of having people die in front of me."

"I don't like that part either," he said and moved closer to me and cuddled me against his big body. "But for now, go to sleep. You can't solve it now and you really need your rest."

I nodded and forced my body to relax till I felt Ranger's deep even breathing signifying that he was asleep.

If I had faith in my tingles, wouldn't I have acted sooner on the knowledge that Brian's mother was the murderer of the DA? If I trusted myself sooner, Morty would have never escaped Rangeman the second time and he'd be alive and in some mental health facility somewhere…probably making nice with Joyce Barnhardt. I took solace in the fact that there was nothing I could have done to save Dickie's life. And when did he stop being The Dick and just become Dickie again? I think it was the moment that Joyce told me that he'd tried to save my life at the expense of his own. In that moment, he ceased to be someone to be reviled and became instead a sad failure of my past. There was good in Dickie. He had proven it. Inside me, just like Anne Frank, I believed there was basically good in everyone. Hell, I couldn't even get my knickers in a twist over Joyce Barnhardt. She'd gone from being my mortal enemy to someone I felt sorry for. That probably wouldn't go over too well in her mind. If she knew what I was thinking now, she'd probably spend her free time plotting my ultimate downfall for when she was released. Not that she'd be released any time soon.

So if I trust my instincts this time, what would it solve? What would it change? First off, nobody and I do mean nobody would believe me. Well, they probably wouldn't have believed me about Joyce either. But at least with Joyce they'd have our past history to roll their eyes at. This time, there wasn't that. My instincts led me to one victim and one culprit. Well, not really one culprit. The culprit had hired the guns who were attempting to kill the victim. But…who knows.

I sighed and rolled to my side and Ranger rolled with me and curled around me. His big body created a shadow on the sheets around me from the moonlight. That shadow suggested that which was our reality. He would shield me from anything. I nestled back into him taking care to avoid the stitches in his abdomen. His hand tightened briefly and his body quickened to life down below. I smiled. That was mine. He was mine. And he would be mine forever.