Senior Prom 7

Ranger walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room, a huge bulge tenting the front of his pants. I could feel the blush burning its way across my face as I remembered that Stan Holloway was sitting in there waiting for me.

I shot across the hall to the living room doorway and stopped cold, watching Ranger standing just across the coffee table from Stan, his hard-on practically in Stan's face, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Stan was leaning back, his shoulders slightly hunched and his head turned a bit to the side, taking great pains not to look at what was so enormous and obvious right in front of him.

I rushed back to the kitchen, reached behind me to re-hook my bra, grabbed another coffee mug, and skidded into the living room. Ranger was seated in the chair across from Stan and was staring at him with empty eyes. The lack of expression on his face gave me a little frisson of fear up my spine and made my already-hard nipples tingle.

When in doubt, fall back on Burg manners. "Stan, this is Ranger Manoso. He's the owner of RangeMan Security and also a bounty hunter. We work together sometimes."

I sat down on the couch beside Stan and looked across at Ranger. As his eyes met mine I could see the faintest trace of amusement lurking behind the blank face. "Ranger, this is Stan Holloway. We went to high school together and he's now a bionics researcher for, uh…" I trailed off, having forgotten who Stan worked for.

"Virilux Industries in Princeton," Stan supplied, ever helpful, and plowed on with his rote explanation. "Bionics is the medical application of technology to mimic biological functions in the human body."

Ranger just stared at Stan with dead eyes, as if he'd just as soon kill him as look at him, like Stan was a cockroach he was about to squash under his boot.

"I'm glad to see you got some coffee, Stan," I blurted out, pouring myself a cup and adding cream and sugar. "You too, Ranger. There's nothing like a good cup of coffee after dinner."

Silence.

So I kept talking. "This is my very favorite coffee, from Dunkin' Donuts. They sell it by the pound now, you know, ground or whole bean. I don't have a coffee grinder, so I get the ground. Maybe one of these days I'll get a grinder. They say fresh ground is even better."

Silence.

So I filled it. "Tasty Pastry may have the best doughnuts, but Dunkin' has the best coffee. And their doughnuts are good, too. I like the Boston crèmes from Tasty Pastry, but Dunkin' makes the best jelly."

I was babbling and I knew it, anything to fill the uncomfortable silence. I wondered whether it would be discourteous to boot them both the hell out of my apartment.

We sipped in silence for a few minutes.

Finally I couldn't stand it for another second. "So Stan, have you been following the Phillies? They're really doing well so far. Some people are predicting they'll go all the way to the Series this year."

"I'm not a big baseball fan," Stan said, looking at me for a moment and then returning his gaze to Ranger's face. Huh. Stan had a blank face of his own.

I finished my coffee, set the cup on the table and made a big show of yawning and stretching. "Gee, it's been a long day." It had to be the longest freakin' day of the year, I thought.

Ranger reached a long arm across the coffee table, snagged the pot, and poured himself another cup, continuing to stare at Stan, his eyes a black void. The second the pot was back on the tray, Stan had it in his hand, pouring more for himself. "Steph?" he questioned, holding out the pot.

I sighed and held out my cup for him to pour. I watched Stan add a dollop of cream to his coffee, and I stirred in my own, plus some sugar.

I was at a complete loss. There was some kind of macho power struggle going on here, and it was almost as if I were superfluous. I sighed again and drank my coffee in silence, wanting to turn on the TV, or some music, or something, anything, to fill the silence. The testosterone in the room was palpable, and the tension was so thick you had to be careful not to breathe too deep or you'd choke on it.

Ranger set his coffee cup down and reached behind him, coming up with a gun, his backup piece I guessed, since there was another weapon in view on his hip. He released the magazine, catching it as it dropped into his hand, and pulled the slide back to eject the round from the chamber. He checked the barrel, stuck the loose bullet into the magazine, re-seated it, and jacked a round back into the chamber. Holding the gun loose in his hand, he looked right through Stan, his face expressionless.

I jumped to my feet, slamming my mug down so hard on the table that coffee slopped over the edges.

"Okay, that's enough," I said. "Ranger, you're obviously exhausted and you need to go home and sleep." I turned to Stan. "And I'm really tired, so you'd better go, too."

Ranger stood without a word, gave me a long look that I couldn't read, stuck the gun in the small of his back and walked out the door. I heard his heavy tread in the hallway and the apartment door opened and closed with an audible click. It threw me a little, because Ranger came and went like smoke, soundless and invisible, with no evidence of his passage except a faint drift of Bulgari.

I turned to Stan. "Thank you so much for driving me home, Stan, but now I'm really exhausted."

"I'd better go then." He rose. "Steph, about the prom. Will you be my date?"

"That's so sweet of you to ask, but I don't think I'd better." I sighed. "I'm still technically with Joe Morelli, even though we're not speaking right now."

"Well, since we'll be working together at the refreshment table, how about I pick you up? Not a date," he was quick to assure me as I opened my mouth to answer, "just two friends sharing a ride."

"Sure, Stan, that would be great." And that way I could have a glass of punch or three and not have to worry about driving home.

"Do you want me to pick you up in the morning to go get your car?" he asked. "I have to be at work at seven, but I could pick you up at six-fifteen and drop you at your parents' house."

"No, thanks." I was quick to refuse his offer. No way was I going to get up that early. "I'll catch a ride with a friend when I'm ready to go to work."

"It was terrific seeing you again after all these years, Steph. Thanks for the coffee. And I'll pick you up Saturday night at six-thirty." The dance ran from seven to ten in deference to the seniors' early bedtime.

"See you then."

"Goodnight." Stan kissed me on the cheek at the door and was gone.

I locked up and dragged myself into the bathroom, shedding clothes along the way, thinking about what a weird evening it had been. Between all the stress and the coffee, I'd sobered up, though I found myself wishing for another glass of wine to help me relax. Oh, well, a nice hot shower should do the trick.

Twenty minutes later, showered, shaved, moisturized and wrapped in a towel, I walked into my bedroom. Halfway across the room it registered, and I stopped short, my breath catching and my heart hammering.

Somebody was in my bed.

TBC -- A/N: For you Phillies fans, I wrote this last summer, BEFORE the Phils went on to win the World Series, lol!