A/N: This chapter takes place during Mama Mañoso's birthday party and stars Lester and his cousin, Selena Rodriguez. Yeah, she is that Rodriguez. We learn from Ranger in Fugue why Rodriguez is never seen. Spoilers below:

I was in Pakistan when the accident happened, my last deployment as a Ranger. It was the summer Selena turned twenty. She and her boyfriend had been headed to Point Pleasant for a picnic. They were hit head-on by a drunk driver, and for reasons that weren't entirely clear, the car had burst into flames. The boyfriend died at the scene. Selena had survived, but just barely. The crush injury to her right leg had been too severe to repair; the doctors had amputated below the knee. Her left arm and hand, as well as her face and chest, had been severely burned. She had spent three months in the burn unit and nearly six months in a rehab hospital. She regained a bit of mobility in her left arm, but the scars on her hand kept her fingers curled into a half-open fist. She had learned to walk again with the help of a prosthesis. Most importantly, she had learned to smile again.

In the midst of her recovery, I had returned home and started RangeMan. As soon as she was able, Selena came to work for me.

Again, latetolove helped me get started and Dog in the Manger helped me finish. I am grateful to both of them for their expert guidance. All mistakes are mine. Did I mention that most of the characters belong to JE?

Lester's POV

I scanned the crowded ballroom, looking for her. No doubt, she would be seated at a table in the corner, her back to the wall. It took me a minute, but I finally caught sight of her, put on my game face and sauntered in her direction.

"Dance, chica?"

She shook her head at me. "I don't really dance much."

"You danced with Steph and Julie," I reminded her.

"Yeah, and you saw how that turned out." She gave me a prim smile and folded her hands in her lap.

"Your virtue is safe with me, Selena. We're related… unfortunately." Our abuelas were sisters. That made Selena and me second cousins… or first cousins twice removed… or something. Not that it would have mattered if we weren't. I wasn't that brave. Ranger would kill anyone who fucked with Selena. In high school, he almost did. Still… I gave her a slow, appraising look. That blue dress covered a lot of skin, but still hugged her curves in all the right places.

"Cut the crap, Lester," Selena said, smacking my shoulder with mock indignation. Now, my cousin had seen my seduction routine before. She had critiqued it. Hell, she had helped me perfect it. Although her words were harsh, I could tell by the faint upturning of her lips and the lowering of her shoulders that she wasn't completely unaffected by it. And she wasn't really upset with me. What woman didn't want to be reminded that she was beautiful? Selena turned away from me slightly, so that I could only see the perfect side of her face. She hesitated for a moment and then flushed crimson.

"Um, thanks though. Occasionally, I still like to remember what it's like to flirt with a man." She turned back and smirked at me. "Even if it's just pretend and that man is you."

"What about Harry from Accounting?" I asked her in all seriousness. "We all think he likes you."

"We?" Her voice raised a notch. "Who's discussing my love life… or lack thereof?"

I gave a guilty shrug and wondered if the famous Santos smile worked on women who were blood relatives. It was worth a try.

Regrettably, Selena seemed unfazed by my charm. "What the hell," she said. She tried to look indignant at my intrusion into her private life, but she wasn't very successful. We'd been friends for a long time, Selena and I. To a large extent, we know each other's secrets… at least the ones that didn't involve classified material. Ranger was her de facto big brother, but I was her confidante. Selena might have been able to hide her attraction to Harry from Ranger. Harry was half in love with her, and he probably had no idea that she was interested. But Selena could rarely hide her feelings from me. I knew the moment she decided to let down her guard with me. She sighed, leaned in closer and asked quietly, "Steph says Harry is a sneaky bastard. Do you think that's true?"

I almost resisted the urge to roll my eyes at Selena. "You think?" I asked.

Harry, our mild-mannered accountant, was the one who made the illusion of "Rodriguez" possible. The elusive RangeMan who kept everyone's inbox perpetually full was nothing more than an elaborate ruse crafted by Selena, sanctioned by Ranger and executed by Harry. Selena labored happily in the anonymity of her office two blocks away and each morning, she sent Harry a stack of files by courier. Video surveillance allowed her to monitor the inbox at every desk. When the stack of files in a particular inbox was reduced to a near manageable level, Selena sent Harry a text, and he surreptitiously added more. Although, he was occasionally sighted coming and going on the fifth floor, no one ever saw him adding anything to the inboxes. He was that good.

Harry, in fact, had been a forensic accountant at the State Department before he joined RangeMan. Now he spent at least part of every day lurking in the proverbial shadows, slipping in and out of cubicles like quicksilver, doing Selena's bidding. Damn straight, he was sneaky. And so was she. But now Selena was sitting next to me, chewing on her bottom lip, looking vulnerable. For the first time since the accident, she was freely admitting her attraction to a man, and she needed some reassurance. I knew from past experience that it would be easier for us to talk frankly about her love life if we were both a tiny bit drunk.

"You know Steph doesn't like it when people keep secrets from her," I said neutrally. I gave that a moment to sink in before I added, "If you won't dance with me, will you at least drink with me?"

Selena nodded without much enthusiasm.

"Wine cooler then?" I asked her, eyebrow raised.

"For God's sake, Lester," she snapped back at me. Beer, now! was what she meant.

As I rose from my chair, I dropped a kiss on her cheek — the scarred one — before I headed to the bar. I returned with two bottles of Heineken.

"They look happy," she said, taking a sip of beer and tipping her head toward Carlos and Stephanie.

They were dancing… sort of. Her arms were around his neck while his arms wrapped around her waist. Her head rested on his shoulder until he bent and whispered something in her ear. She lifted her head to look at him, a soft smile on her lips that were just inches from his. I was willing to bet they had forgotten that there was anyone else in the room.

Normally, when Stephanie and Ranger came within three feet of one another, they put off enough sparks to count as a fireworks display. This was different and much more intimate than any of their stolen moments in the garage or the elevator. I felt a touch of guilt, as if we were witnessing a very private moment. Truth be told, I was also overcome by a pang of longing for what they had.

Silently, Selena and I watched them dance, until the silence became unbearable.

"Beautiful always gets her man," I said lightly. We could have been talking about her BEA skills, but we weren't.

"And Ranger always gets the girl," Selena replied softly. She was quiet for so long, I thought she was going to let it drop. Then she just had to add, "Does he know?"

I tipped up my beer and took a long drink before I answered her. "Realistically, how could he not?"

Growing up, Carlos and I were the closest of friends and fiercely loyal to one another. Sure, we were competitive on the baseball field in the summer and on the ice in the winter. We competed just as hard for our Abuela's attention and for the last cookie in her kitchen. But when the competition suddenly involved a woman… well, that changed everything.

"Maybe more importantly, does she know?"

I sighed and wished for another beer. I knew the alcohol wouldn't fix anything, but I wondered if it might make me care a little less, at least for tonight.

"I had my chance, Selena. I even had a second chance when he walked away from her." I didn't have to add, But idiot that I am, I didn't take it. That was painfully obvious as we watched her gliding around the dance floor in someone else's arms.

Selena lifted her beer, but paused before she took a drink, the bottle just inches from her lips. As she studied me thoughtfully, I was reminded of the fact that looks could be so deceiving. Probably no one else in the room figured Selena for a troublemaker.

"Ask her to dance," she said.

My heart said that one dance, one harmless dance, was a socially acceptable way to indulge in the fantasy that had plagued me for years. Finally, I could wrap my arms around the woman, who haunted my dreams at night. My head shouted, No! This is a very, very bad idea. Touch her and you'll never be able to let her go.

I watched her long blond hair swing gently as she danced. I saw her smile. I looked at Selena and tried to muster a smile of my own as I said firmly, "Rachel Martine is happily married."