Warning Signs

by financebabe

Ranger realizes what he wants out of life just as Stephanie is involved in an accident. Can what they have survive the day to day of life and the adjustments of formimg a life together? A Babe HEA.

18. Just Another Day on the Job

Nothing below is mine, JE created it all.

Jenny (JenRar) thank you for the time and effort you put in as the beta on this story.

Chapter 18 – Just Another Day on the Job

"That's bullshit and you know it," Tank argued with me when I asserted my Porsche could easily take his Mustang.

I laughed, both at his lack of making a case to back up his opinion, and the fact that he sounded like he was eighteen again, back when the only things we had to talk about were cars and girls, because we sure as hell didn't have enough money to go out and do anything.

We'd come in the control room to cover the monitors for an hour. We rarely worked in here, but it was good to be reminded of what the guys were doing on a regular basis, and it set an example that I wasn't asking them to do anything I wasn't willing to do myself. I doubted Stephanie had ever seen Tank and me work in here, because she would, no doubt, have had plenty to say about how the seriousness of the task that made most guys lose their minds with boredom caused us to revert to rapid fire conversation.

Tank pulled up a feed after getting a message from one of the guys and commented that Stephanie and Hector were finishing the install at Rodriguez's newest jewelry store, pointing to a screen as proof.

I knew I shouldn't look, because anytime I saw Stephanie, I had a hard time looking away. In the end, I decided that was why I paid Tank the big bucks, and I ignored the other monitors so that I could focus on what Hector and Stephanie were doing. Yesterday, they'd put up a series of cameras, which provided my view at the moment, but they'd returned today to add the sensors to the doors and windows and complete the panel wiring to finish off the job.

The store had a steady stream of customers, never getting crowded, but never completely empty, either. I noticed most people gave Hector wide berth, but when Stephanie smiled at them or waved a friendly greeting, they seemed to relax and move on to look in the display cases. I knew without Stephanie there, we probably would have heard from the client, complaining about Hector scaring away customers.

They worked well, each obviously capable of handling the task given to them. Occasionally, one would sign and the other would respond with a smile, making me think they were discussing more than just the specs of the job.

A man walked in and turned to look at Stephanie, who was bent at the waist, digging through her tool bag. I didn't appreciate the amount of time he was giving to appreciating the ass of my woman, but there was nothing I could do about it, sitting behind the desk.

Stephanie stood up suddenly just as the man turned and walked to the back counter. She looked confused and took a few moments to look at every person in the store. I wondered what she was searching for. Hector walked over to her and began signing, apparently trying to figure out the same thing. I started to feel a little more on edge when Hector also began scanning the crowd.

"What's doing, Rangeman?" Tank asked, picking up on my sudden interest in the monitor when I moved forward to see better.

"Something has Hector and Stephanie on edge," I said, pointing to the screen.

Stephanie put her hand on Hector's arm to get his attention and then began signing, without looking at him. Her eyes were glued to the man who had paused to check her out. If I had to guess, I would say she was reading his lips as he spoke to the clerk behind the counter and passing along his words to Hector.

Hector took a step closer, putting his body between Stephanie and the heated conversation she was observing, and then his hand went to his side, where I knew a gun was located.

"Holy shit," Tank exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen. "That guy is threatening to start shooting if the clerk doesn't do everything he says."

"How do you know that?" I asked, feeling left out of the loop.

"That's what Stephanie is signing," Tank explained, as though the answer were obvious. "I guess those classes I've been taking are paying off. I can actually keep up with her now."

I couldn't stop my head from turning to the side to ask, "You've been taking sign language classes?"

Stephanie had taught herself to sign with some help from the software on her laptop, a group she'd been attending for support, and time with Hector. Then she would pass along what she'd learned to me in what she referred to as my private lessons. We got off topic pretty quickly, but I could proudly say that I knew the sign for every part of her body.

Tank shrugged, like it was no big deal. "How else was I supposed to show her I had her back if I didn't keep up with what she was learning?"

All these years we'd been friends, and I was still learning stuff about the mountain of a man to my right.

Movement on the screen brought my focus back to the situation Stephanie was in. I could dwell on the mystery that was Tank later. "What is Hector saying?" I asked. I had learned a lot of signs from my time with Stephanie, but when they went fast and were at an angle like we had from the camera, I struggled to keep up.

"He's telling her something is too risky and that she needs to get down and stay there," Tank translated, before picking up the phone and calling the police to report a robbery in progress.

I didn't need his help to know Stephanie's response. She shook her head no emphatically, before picking up her tool bag and walking closer to the jackass threatening to pull out a gun.

Since no one else in the store was panicking, I had to guess his voice was being kept very low and that the clerk hadn't alerted anyone to the potential threat to them all.

"Don't do it, Little Girl," Tank said out loud, as though it would stop Stephanie from moving forward with one of her ideas.

Stephanie was within a few feet of the target, when she dropped her tool bag. The man stopped talking to the clerk and focused on Stephanie, who was busily grabbing the tools from the ground. While she had his attention diverted, Hector moved so that he was positioned to come up behind the man without being seen.

Stephanie looked up at the criminal in front of her and spoke to him. I watched as his face turned harsh and began to worry about what she was doing to turn his anger on her. When his hand moved to his back, reaching for something hidden under his coat, I stopped breathing. At that close distance, a shot anywhere was going to hit her and cause major damage.

I was so focused on my woman that when the man threatening her collapsed to the ground, I was surprised when I saw Hector standing behind him, putting away his stun gun and pulling out a pair of cuffs, instead. He had just finished subduing the would-be robber when the police stormed in and began taking over.

When Morelli arrived on the scene, I relaxed, knowing that he would believe Stephanie as she explained what happened and would understand when she most likely admitted that her gut told her something was wrong as the man entered the store, allowing her to discover his intent in time to stop him.

Cal and Vince came into the control room to relieve us and noticed the screen I was monitoring intently.

"What the hell happened to Bomber?" Vince asked, obviously worried about her being surrounded by the police.

Tank replied without moving his eyes from the other screens he was watching. "She intercepted an idiot who was trying to hold up a jewelry store and distracted the guy long enough for Hector to knock him out and cuff him. Just another day on the job, gentlemen," he summed up with a smile.

I made a mental note to replay the conversation to Stephanie tonight so that she would know how highly Tank thought of her. I decided to match his level of cool and stood up to allow Vince to have my chair. "She was just doing her job. Don't act so surprised."

Cal was the first to speak after our explanation. "But how did she know what was going on if she stopped him before he did anything?"

I smiled and went with an evasive answer instead of a direct response. "She's Wonder Woman, didn't you know?"

The office was completely silent as I walked away. It was Tank's eventual laughter that broke the spell. As he stood up to walk away behind me, I heard him take on a falsetto voice to sing "Wonder Woman" like the old theme song did.

I shut the door to my office and stood at the window, staring at nothing in particular and trying to get my breathing and heart rate back under control. I found it hard to do in light of everything that could have gone wrong in what I just saw.

I settled for a distraction and decided to head down to the gym to work off the adrenaline that had flooded my system. I spent the next hour and a half making the equipment suffer for the harm that could have come to Stephanie. I knew this was a part of our lives; danger was always there, and because of what we did, we encountered it more often than other people.

Of course, that was a major part of why I had fought a relationship with her for so long. I didn't want this shadow of harm to be a part of her life because of my choices. As I pummeled the bag in front of me, I had to admit, though, that I hadn't caused this danger. She'd basically walked right up to it on her own, and as much as I'd love to sit her down and yell at her for not listening to Hector when he told her to get down and hide, I also had to respect what she'd done to neutralize a threat and protect the other innocent people around her.

While I was replaying the scene in my mind, hands stopped the bag I was working, forcing me to look up and acknowledge Hector's presence.

"You saw?" he asked in Spanish, obviously already knowing the answer.

I nodded once, not ready to talk about it.

"She did good, right?" Hector volunteered. His voice had an edge to it. I could tell he was watching me, and if I didn't agree with him, I was about to see a side of Hector that had never been unleashed in my direction.

Fortunately, I'd gotten a little perspective while I was down here, so I reached for a towel I'd thrown on the mat and wiped my face, before responding, "Yeah, she did great."

He nodded and let go of the bag, satisfied that I was seeing this the way I should.

"Thanks for watching over her," I called out in English before he turned to leave. I was curious if he could really understand me like Stephanie said.

Hector's brow wrinkled, as though he didn't comprehend my meaning. "I didn't," he corrected me in his usual Spanish. "She's my partner. I worked beside her. She protected us all."

"I thought you told me once you'd quit before you'd accept a permanent partner," I threw out there, reminding him of his own words in light of his statement now, no longer caring what language we used.

Hector smiled, a strange site on his face. "I was wrong," he easily admitted. "I would quit before I worked with the wrong partner. But Stephanie…" He stopped, still looking the right words. "She gets me and makes it better together than apart."

"I know the feeling, man," I assured him.

I decided I'd done enough for now to keep my reactions under control, so I grabbed my bottle of water and my cell phone to head upstairs. Just as I was walking into the apartment, my phone buzzed that I had a text.

When I glanced down, I saw it was from Stephanie.

What have you done?

I was clueless, so I texted back a single question mark.

It took a minute, but the next message had an attached photo of her cubicle on five. The guys had apparently taken my words to heart and had decorated her space with printed out pictures of the actress Lynda Carter dressed up as Wonder Woman.

I guess your reputation precedes you, I replied, smiling on the way to the shower.

After cleaning up, I stepped out and looked at the mail I'd brought up with me the night before and never bothered reading. Mixed in with some miscellaneous bills and advertisements was a receipt for my donation to the annual Policeman's Ball. RangeMan always purchased at least one table at the event and sponsored some element, as well, in order to be seen as a friend to the law enforcement in Trenton. A strong police force benefited everyone, so I'd always gone out of my way to support them.

Each table allowed me send ten people to represent the company. Previously, I'd allowed the men to volunteer and would give out the tickets in pairs on a first come, first served basis. I hadn't been in the last few years, grateful to have a legitimate reason such as a mission or assignment to cover my absence in a politically acceptable way. The date was two weeks away, and I smiled as I remembered the black dress I'd purchased for Stephanie when we'd gone shopping. She'd sworn it was too expensive and had assumed she wouldn't have an occasion to wear it. I kept the invitation in my hand and went down to five to find Stephanie.

She was typing away, working on a stack of search requests from Rodriguez, surrounded by the various pictures of her favorite super hero. I put the embossed ticket on the paper at the top of her stack and watched as she picked it up and read it, before spinning around.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" she wondered aloud after finishing.

I shook my head no, and clarified, "I'm trying to ask, not tell," I teased. "Would you care to join me at the ball in two weeks?"

Her grin was enough of an answer for me to keep talking. "I believe there is a black dress in your closet that you now have an occasion to wear."

She tried to look cross at me pulling a subtle I told you so, but the smile that kept cracking the drawn lips gave her away.

Then, to sweeten the deal, I asked, "And as a practice run, there is a restaurant I want to take you to tomorrow night."

Her face relaxed as she waited for more details.

"It's a little dressy, but not formal, and they have a dance floor in the bar. The blue dress you picked when we went shopping would be perfect." I was feeling pretty proud of myself for coming up with uses for both dresses in less than five minutes.

"I can't wear that dress," she interrupted my self congratulations.

"Why not?" I wondered. She didn't know the place I was referring to, so I had no idea why she was convinced the clothes I suggested wouldn't be appropriate.

"I don't have shoes," she replied with a grin.

My hand reached back to my hip to grab my wallet. I was about to flip out my credit card and charge her to get busy finding some, but she put her hand up and stopped me.

"You better be reaching back to scratch an itch, because if you are even thinking about grabbing your wallet, we're about to have a problem."

I let my hand fall loosely to my side, basically confessing she'd caught me in the act. "Why can't I take care of you?"

"Because I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she quickly answered. "Besides, you do plenty for me, and this is something small that I want to do for myself. I've got this fancy job that earns me a steady paycheck, and since I basically live for free, I want to spend a little of my money on myself."

When she put it like that, I saw her point. I didn't like it, because something in me wanted to spoil her, but I let it go to keep the peace.

She stood up and kissed my check, before informing me, "I'm going to see if Lula wants to go to the mall with me to find some shoes. I think I'm better prepared to handle any problems we might encounter."

I didn't like the idea of her going out without someone from RangeMan, but I knew better than to assign someone to follow her. Never let it be said that I wasn't a student of history. Instead, I grabbed her hand and said, "Please be careful."

She calmly walked back to me and nuzzled my neck, before whispering, "I will be. And since I appreciate you not freaking out over me leaving without a RangeMan presence, I might just have to pick up a little something for your good behavior."

I made a sound of assent that rumbled in my chest so she could feel it pressed against her, which made her laugh as she walked away. After she disappeared in the elevator, I went back to my office. Before I could get busy with anything, Tank appeared with a smile on his face.

"You want to have some fun?" he asked with a grin I recognized as meaning there was a skip that we needed to pick up, and based on his charges, we didn't need to be overly gentle about it, either.

I stood up without hesitation, opened my safe to suit up, and followed him out. "Details," I prompted as I pulled on my vest.

"Thirty-eight-year-old male, charged with assaulting a police officer. Apparently, he beat a cop with a metal tube until he lost consciousness, and then fled the scene, leaving the cop there alone," Tank explained, letting the detail hang out there unsaid that because of the charges, the cops wouldn't say a word if the skip came in a little worse for wear. If anything, they'd consider it a favor, since they couldn't exactly teach him a lesson themselves.

"Where is he?" I asked, leading the way to the garage.

"Asleep at home, a block off Stark," he said with a smile.

It didn't seem like that long ago that we were heading in the same direction to remind the neighborhood I was back and still very capable of taking care of business. I didn't think they needed another reminder this soon, but it was too perfect of a file to pass up.

The house looked like it was a building inspection shy of being condemned, and I briefly wondered if I should suggest Tank not go in. I was by no means a small man, but Tank had another fifty pounds on me, and I worried about him going through the porch, instead of across it.

We stepped out of the truck, and Tank held out a mug shot of the skip so I'd have a visual of who we were after. I nodded and decided we needed to split up, giving Tank the back, in case the idiot decided to run.

But before I could inform him of my master plan, he pointed to himself and used what I knew was the sign for back, and then pointed and me and added front. We'd communicated non-verbally for years using signals and head nods like we were taught in the Army. This was taking that communication and moving it to the next level. I knew exactly what he was saying, so I nodded, and then bent at the waist to minimize my height and moved quietly to the porch.

My phone vibrated twice when Tank was in position, and only then did I climb the three steps to approach the front door. I glanced in the windows and saw the skip stretched out in a recliner, with the television on in front of him. He appeared to be asleep, giving me the time to look for any weapons. I had to wonder why the guy lived in such a run down shack, based on the expensive electronics he was camping out in front of.

My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down to see a text from Tank.

Waiting on an invitation?

I quickly debated telling him to fuck off, but decided he was right. I was distracted, and in this business, distracted meant dead, so I pulled my gun and moved to the door, kicking it open and rushing through it in one motion. I was at the chair when he completely woke. I could see the thought of running cross his face, but when his back door shattered from Tank's boot, he gave up and just put his hands in the air.

I was slightly disappointed that he wasn't fighting. Knowing his record, I was looking forward to the rush of the chase. This was easy – too easy. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I heard the front porch creak and knew someone was coming in. I yelled out "front door," without moving my attention from the skip. Tank moved to block the backup from entering, but I guess Mr. Stupid thought it was enough of a distraction to keep me from taking him down, because he jumped up and rushed at me.

I had just long enough to debate the merits of shooting him, but decided that was too easy, and took a fighting stance, instead. I had to give the kid props for attempting to take me down. He definitely gave it effort, but he had no training, and without a lead pipe like he'd used on the cop, he had no chance with me.

I heard a similar scuffle behind me and figured Tank was having a little fun. After the skip was unconscious and cuffed on the floor, I turned to look behind me and saw Tank standing there, with three punks out cold at his feet. His teeth were shining in contrast to his dark skin from the smile plastered on his face. I hadn't seen him that amused since he'd first bought his dream car and took it out for a spin.

Tank looked at the kids he'd taken out, and then over at the skip, before saying, "You only got one? I think you're slowing down, man."

I smiled in return, refusing to laugh, but still finding humor in his lame attempt at a joke to call me old. "True, but what I didn't do in quantity, I more than made up for in quality."

The skip was bleeding from cuts on his face and a broken nose, I knew he'd be pissing blood for a day or two, and unless I was losing my touch, he had a rib or two that should be wrapped.

"What should we do with these guys?" Tank asked, looking at the bodies on the floor.

"Leave them," I told him, knowing we weren't going to press charges and doubting they were wanted. Hell, looking at them more closely, I wondered why they weren't in school. "They're just kids."

Tank nodded in agreement. "What kind of asshole uses teenagers as bodyguards while he sleeps in front of the television?"

I moved over the skip to hoist him up for transport, when a moan was heard from the bottom of the pile of kids. I have no idea what made me do it, but I moved over to be in his line of vision when he woke up.

It took him a few blinks, but I knew the moment his eyes focused because his face transformed with pure terror.

I lifted my hands with my palms toward him so he'd know I meant him no harm. "Easy," I said calmly in a low voice. Then I reached to my pocket, pulled out one of my business cards, and held it out to him.

He glanced between my face and the paper several times, before reaching out and taking it.

"Good," I told him, glad he finally decided to trust me that much. "We're taking your boss to lockup, but you and your friends are free to go."

His face relaxed slightly at that piece of information.

"I don't know how you got mixed up with this garbage, and it's really none of my business, but if you need any help getting out of it, give me a call. You're entirely too young to go down this road."

His face gave nothing away, but I knew the fact that he said nothing in return was a good sign. If he'd defended himself or his involvement, I'd have known he was already too far gone to help. There was still hope for this one.

Tank picked up the skip and hauled him to the truck. We had him secured in the back when he began to moan. Tank slammed the door, refusing to sit him up any straighter to ease the pain he was no doubt in from his slumped over position.

When he turned around and looked at me, I smiled and pointed to his left hand. There was a cut on it that had bled some, leaving a trail of dried blood from his knuckles to his wrist.

"You going soft?" I teased. "How did a fifteen-year-old punk get the jump on you?"

I had already done a once over on myself and knew I was injury free. Despite his attempt to hurt me, he'd never landed a punch. I knew it was unfair to pick on Tank for what amounted to a scratch. Even the best fighter was going to get a ding or two when taking on multiple assailants at once.

We bickered back and forth as we drove to the station to drop off the trash from the back. Eddie was standing at the front desk, talking to Robin when we came in, pulling the skip behind us. Eddie tilted his head and quickly identified who we had. When his face hardened, I knew we were all right for the shape of our drop off.

"Let me guess...he tried to resist?" Eddie supplied us with our story.

"That's right," I agreed with a smirk. Then I pointed to Tank's hand and said, "As you can see, he tried to attack, so we had to use whatever means necessary to subdue him."

"Subdue?" the skip stupidly spoke up. "You didn't subdue anything! You damn near killed me and my boys."

Eddie looked around and said, "I don't see any boys, but I know that since this was all done in self defense, no charges will be filled."

The skip shut up, realizing he was about to be locked up by a less than happy looking cop. Eddie was probably the most laid back officer I knew, but he wore the uniform with pride, and looking at the scum that tried to kill one of his own was enough to hide any trace of the relaxed man I knew him to be.

Robin gave us a receipt and held it when I lifted my hand to take it. I met her eyes, and she spoke softly. "Thanks."

"Just doing my job," I told her, realizing I'd never been thanked for bringing in a skip.

"No," Robin corrected me. "Every cop in this place wanted to have a piece of him, and the chief forbid any of us from laying a hand on him. When he made bail, we all held our breath, hoping he'd miss his hearing so you could bring him in. I was afraid if somebody didn't teach him a lesson, one of the guys would feel the need to do it, and enough people have been hurt already because of him."

I got it, I really did, so I replied, "Like I said, I was just doing my job."

She released the receipt, allowing Tank and me to walk outside once more. "You ever get the feeling a lot more was said than what was said?"

As strange as it sounded, I fully understand what he meant, but before I could respond, both our phones buzzed, alerting us to texts coming through.

"What the hell?" Tank said aloud, as I read my own confusing message.

Stephanie had sent me a text that read simply, No matter what happens, don't panic. I'm fine.

Despite what she might have intended, that message alone put me on edge.

Tank handed me his phone to read a text from Hector.

Helping Steph. Tell the boss it's all under control.

We looked at each other, just as our phones began buzzing with a pattern reserved for control room alerts. Looking down, we'd received the same message.

Stephanie's car went off line. All available teams respond. Below the message was an address and a GPS map link.

We moved without another word and as quickly as possible, made our way to the mall, where the alert said Stephanie's car had gone off the grid. Just before I pulled into the lot, I heard the fire engines blaring and knew her car had gone to its great reward. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to pull on my years of practice of covering up what I was feeling. Nobody needed to know how panicked I really was.

Tank broke the silence and said, "You know how you pushed Stephanie away for years, saying it was too dangerous for her to be around you?"

I didn't really see why my shitty history with Steph was important right now, but I nodded, too on edge to argue the point.

He let out a humorless chuckle, before adding, "I think you might have had it backwards. Man, your life is a walk in the park compared to this."

He gestured to the scene in front of us, swimming with cops and fire fighters and a few RangeMan employees assisting in the securing of the scene. As much as I wanted to disagree, he had a point. My life might have held a certain amount of evil, but it definitely didn't hold a candle to what she seemed to attract.

Stephanie was being checked out by Bobby, who had his blank face on. Hector was standing guard to her right, his eyes surveying the scene around him, but he didn't seem on edge the way one would expect, knowing her car had just been destroyed. If anything, he looked like he was struggling not to laugh.

I looked over at Tank, who was rubbing the back of his neck, his nervous habit. "She might have the advantage in danger, but at least I know my life will never be boring," I informed him.

It might have sounded cavalier to an outside observer, but I knew Tank understood what I meant. I was wired to need a certain amount of change from the monotony of the day to day. And even with all her other perks, life with Stephanie guaranteed no two days would ever be the same.