Disclaimer: I do not own Lester (the character) or the Stephanie Plum series. This short-story is only inspired by the Plum world, out of canon. Please note I do not have a beta reader. Thanks for reading, and I hope you guys enjoy it.

Work

Pregnancy not only impaired my ability to wear matching shoes, but it also weakened my balance. I glanced over the sleeping figure of my husband and decided not to wake him. The poor fool was recovering from several wounds and mending a leg. Instead, I planted my bare feet on the cold tile and lurched my body forward.

"Emma," Lester mumbled when the stress of my weight came off the mattress. He woke, eyes wide and searching. "Are you sick?"

"I'm all right," I said, waving off his concern, but my wobble had him scrambling off the bed and coming to my aid. "Go back to sleep. You are going to hurt yourself."

"Is the baby okay?" He sat up and rubbed his hands over my belly.

"This child won't let me sleep." My voice sounded whiny to my ears. Lester's warm hands smoothed over my skin, slithered under my breasts and my belly button. The baby wiggled under his touch, and a bright smile appeared on Lester's face. "I feel like you're doing to abandon me once this baby's out of me."

"Alex and I will come visit you every six months," he said, matter-of-fact. I smacked him over the head. The familiar playfulness between the two of us resulted in Lester's cry of pain. "You're so short-tempered today."

"Pregnancy causes hormonal imbalance." I took his head in my hands and examined all the sharp and soft edges of his face. Lester's green eyes compared to my brown always reminded me of our mixed ancestries. The contrast of my olive skin against his darker shade made me wonder about our child. The baby could have his eyes and skin tone and my light brown hair. "Would you like to name our child Alex?"

"Of course not; Alex will be my second wife." My eyes connected with his, and I stood motionless, letting the silence blanket the five seconds that followed. The man in front of me interrupted the moment by throwing his head back and barking a laugh. "If looks could kill."

"Why did I marry you?" I muttered, untangling myself from his arms and wobbling my way to the bathroom. I pushed my hair back and proceeded to brush my teeth. In truth, if Lester had not shown up with his goofy smile, optimism, and inexplicable ability to get on my nerves, I would have never married. It's not that I don't believe in marriage. My parents are proof that successful marriages exist, but I never envisioned getting married. I never aspired to it or fantasized about my wedding day or having babies. The baby in my belly nudged as if it had read my thoughts.

"Are you sure?" Lester's voice could be heard through the bathroom door. My mate knocked on the door, pulled it open, and leaned against the frame. My eyes zeroed in on the cell phone pressed against his ear. It was my highly secured, bat-calls-only, RangeMan-issued cell phone. "I'll let her know, but this could be out of her hands."

"What is it?" I managed to say through the toothbrush in my mouth. My brain sorted through the legal jargon regarding stolen property, arson, and military weapon laws in preparation. "What did he do know?"

"It's not Ranger," Lester answered, shifting his weight to relief his casted leg. "It's Stephanie Plum."

"Why doesn't Ranger train her properly?" I could not understand why anyone would become a bounty hunter without the proper training. I didn't know the woman in question, but all of Stephanie Plum's escapades had appeared on the front pages of our RangeMan weekly newsletter. The reviews were always positive, with links to online articles praising Ms. Plum and RangeMan for their services, but the woman's methods were amateur and dangerous.

"She's not a RangeMan employee," Lester said, his eyes scanning my body before landing on my butt. "Anyhow, she needs your legal expertise. Ranger has requested we meet with him at the local precinct."

"Both of us?" My husband's current physical condition required him to rest. The calendar taped to our bathroom mirror listed Lester's physical therapy sessions and our doctor's appointments. We also need to start building the nursery, and, most importantly, finally tell my parents about the baby. "You need to stay here and heal before this baby is born."

"You can drop me off at RangeMan's headquarters," he responded, lifting himself off the door and pulling his shirt over his head. He staggered forward but skillfully removed the rest of his clothes and joined me in the shower.

"What do you think you're doing?" He could slip, fall, and worsen his condition.

"A man can dream," he sighed, giving me a somber look. I poked his torso, right above the stitches in a knife wound. "Ouch, that hurts."

"Why won't you behave?" He smirked and planted a soft kiss on my lips, and my hands flew to his chest with a moan. I traced the scar on his chest. The bullet had only scrapped the skin, but the promise of the bigger damage remained in the form of a scar.

"You wouldn't like me if I did," he said. Of course, he was right.

-rs-

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