The credit for the characters below belongs to JE.

Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your willingness to work on another story with me as the beta.

Chapter 3 – Settling In

I'd felt so noble when the rude doctor was there and Manny seemed to want me to get him out. But after having no less than six different people come in and basically tell me I was an idiot, I was ready to get the hell out of this hospital or yank Manny's IV so I could have access to his drugs, too.

Bobby, who had been standing stoically at the door, straightened and pushed against the comm. unit in his ear, like he was trying to be sure he didn't miss anything. Before I could ask what was happening, he looked at me and said, "Chopper is here. I'll go alert the nurses."

He turned and walked away, leaving me alone with Manny once more. I took the moment of silence to consider what a strange life this would be if it was real. To be constantly surrounded by people but not really having any company made me lonely – something I rarely felt when I was alone. The familiar knocking on the door brought me out of that odd thought, so I turned to see who was going to yell at me next.

Bobby walked in with a doctor I hadn't met yet and the nurse who had first attempted to talk me out of moving Manny. She came right over, checked all his levels, and then began removing some of the gear from him. The IV, she removed from the pole, and then she pulled the tubing out of the computerized box that seemed to be releasing it at a steady rate. When the beeping from the monitors stopped, I couldn't help but wonder if this was really the right thing to do. Why was it so dangerous for Manny that he had to be moved, when he obviously should still be in a hospital?

The doctor signed a few pieces of paper on a clipboard in front of him and then shoved the forms in front of me. "If you are going to insist on endangering your husband's life, then you'll have to sign here, taking full responsibility."

I decided I didn't feel like fighting anymore, so I signed my name, having to retrace the first letter of my last name to turn it from a P for Plum into an R for Ramos instead. This fake getting married business was hard to get used to.

When I handed the clipboard back, the doctor said, "I hope his life insurance is paid up," and then he spun around in his scrubs-covered shoes and left.

I gave him a 'Burg-worthy glare while he made his less than graceful exit and then turned my attention back to the work being done on Manny.

The nurse injected something in his IV line and made a note in the file she'd brought in with her. When she was finished loosening him from all the wires and gadgets, she said, "We'll bring him up to the roof to meet you at the heli-pad."

I knew she was trying to be helpful, but there was no way I was going to leave anyone at this hospital alone with Manny when the guys had made it so clear he was in more danger being here than he would be by yanking him away from hospital so abruptly.

"Thank you for all you're doing, but I'm not leaving his side. Do whatever you have to do to move him, and I'll be right here," I told her as calmly as I could while still making it clear I wasn't going to budge.

"I thought you'd say that," she replied with a partial smile. I knew she disagreed with me moving him now, but I was beginning to think that a piece of her admired my conviction.

A few big guys came in with a gurney and followed the directions given by the nurse.

She then picked up a folder and explained it was his records for his time at St. Elizabeth's. "How long will it be until he will have medical attention again?" she asked, looking back at the door, as though what she was doing was not sanctioned.

I had no idea, but I assumed a helicopter would be faster than a car, so I guessed, "Maybe an hour, perhaps a little longer."

She looked in his folder and then nodded. "His pain meds have been topped off, so he should stay out of it for a couple of hours at least. Just moving him from his bed to the cot would be jolting enough. When you have to move him back to his bed, I didn't want him to wake up in extreme pain." At the last sentence, she walked to stand directly in front of me with her back to the orderlies behind her.

Bobby had seen her movement and had followed her, obviously taking his duty as my bodyguard seriously.

I followed her eyes and saw that she was looking at something in her hand. She extended her palm to me so that I could take the capped off syringe full of some clear liquid. "Put it directly into the port on his IV, and it will knock him out within seconds. You obviously care for him, and this trip will be excruciating if he wakes up. I know I wouldn't be able to watch my husband suffer like that."

I took the needle, unsure if it was the right thing to do but following that voice in my head that told me it was okay. "What is it?" I asked, figuring I could question Bobby later.

She opened the medical record and pointed to a script from a doctor. "It was a standing order to be given every two to four hours as needed for pain management over the first two days after surgery."

"Thank you," I told her, hoping my eyes were really as expressive as everyone said they were. I wanted her to understand how much I appreciated not only this gesture, but the fact that she'd respected my wishes and helped to prep Manny for travel.

Then I glanced to Bobby behind her and said, "All right, Robert, let's go." It felt so strange to call him by that name that I began to smile. This was part of why I didn't play poker. I had a great game face when I could manage it, but sometimes my reactions got away from me before I could do anything about it.

The ride to the roof was completely silent, and I found myself wishing the medical monitors were still beeping in the background just to offer a little noise to keep the tension from mounting.

When the doors opened on the roof, there was a helicopter waiting with a guy in all black standing at a parade rest waiting for us. I figured that was our pilot and watched as he lowered his head in Bobby's direction as a subtle greeting and then stepped back to reveal a flat surface inside the aircraft that Manny's gurney would be fitted on top of and strapped to in order to keep him secure.

Once all the straps were fastened, Bobby looked at me and said, "You should get in, Mrs. Ramos."

I took his advice and followed the pilot to the other side to get in, noticing that Bobby went back over every single strap to verify for himself that they were secure. After he was satisfied, he opened the passenger side door to the cockpit and hopped in beside our pilot. I was given a pair of earphones like what we'd wear at the shooting range. Well, to be honest, I didn't wear them, because I didn't go to the range, but I had watched the guys act like little boys playing with toys when I was on monitor duty, and I knew they wore these big things to protect their hearing.

Once the doors were closed, the pilot started flipping switches at an alarming rate, and I could feel the engine coming to life. It didn't take long before we were in the air. After we'd cleared what I considered to be New York City, Bobby turned in his seat to see me and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled weakly, feeling the adrenaline of being under the constant scrutiny at the hospital quickly leaving me.

Riding in the helicopter was a strange sensation. I could definitely feel we were flying, but since I was able to see the pilot or because I was too tired to care, I wasn't as on edge as I usually was in airplanes. I looked at Manny, and he seemed to be completely out of it, so I turned my attention to Bobby, who was madly typing on his smartphone before pulling the little microphone down on his earphones and speaking. Even knowing that he was about to talk, I was still surprised enough to hear his voice in my ears that I jumped slightly.

"We've got clearance to land directly at the house. I'm putting the coordinates in your navigator," he announced.

I assumed that meant we were going straight to my great-grandparents' house. I hadn't been there in twenty years, but I remembered the lawn being more than big enough to accommodate this aircraft, so it seemed to make sense. I had a hundred different questions about what to expect, but I didn't want to start spouting off and risk distracting our pilot. Things were going well, but I didn't see enough cause for possibly ruining the smooth flight we were having just to get a few more details.

I was startled when it seemed that we were getting closer to the ground and then looked out the window to see we were here. Even from the air, I recognized the house that I'd visited often as a little girl. Once we touched down and I could hear the blades slowing down, my door was opened. Cal reached in, unbuckled the complicated harness I was wearing, and then pulled me into his arms in a hug. I'd known Cal for three years now, and this was the first time he'd ever pulled me to him for a hug. He did lots of shoulder squeezes and would occasionally tug on my hair when he walked by, but he definitely wasn't a real touchy-feely kind of guy. The contact caught me completely off guard, but I wasn't about to complain about a totally stacked guy pulling me against his gorgeous body and holding me to him. Cal pulled back sooner than I thought was really necessary and put a hand on my back, indicating that I needed to crouch down to exit the spot where we were standing.

We ran to the front door of the house, where Hector was standing. He, too, hugged me when I walked by, which was even more alarming than when Cal did it. If there was one person at Haywood that I figured didn't care about me one way or the other, it would be the Spanish-speaking man now rubbing my back and saying something I absolutely didn't understand. Still, Hector was a good looking guy in that dangerous, yet simultaneously appealing kind of way, so I wasn't going to complain about another hug. Just as suddenly as he'd touched me, he pulled back, kissed my forehead, placed his hand over his heart, and then walked away, leaving me looking at Cal, who shrugged as though he didn't know what Hector had said, either, but it didn't seem as unusual to Cal as it obviously was to me.

Not sure what to expect, I stepped into the house when Cal indicated I should and moved into the living room, where the small black-and-white television had been replaced with a thirty-six-inch, widescreen, up-to-date version. It was on scale for the room but still startling to see in front of the wild, floral-print couch and rust-colored easy chair.

I took a deep breath and only caught a trace of the musty smell most closed up houses seemed to hold. The place looked immaculate, so either my mom and grandmother were fantastic at keeping it spotless, or the team RangeMan had sent over had been particularly effective in a short amount of time.

I moved through the little living room into the dining room and kitchen area, where I stopped and sat on a bar stool, suddenly needing a rest. It was a surreal feeling to be in a place I associated only with my childhood, yet to have the guys I worked with walking around as though they belonged here, too. I saw plenty of food stacked on the countertops, which I took as evidence that Ella had already been by. There was a laptop charging at the end of the bar, so I knew Hector had been busy as well.

"You okay?" Cal asked, pulling me from the black hole of my thoughts and turning my focus from the avocado green refrigerator that was so popular in the sixties.

I nodded yes, not sure if that was accurate or not but feeling like I was too tired to do any better. Suddenly, the stress of the situation, the fact that my sleep had been interrupted and reduced to virtually nothing, and the strange sensation of being in a place filled with de ja vu memories was overwhelming me.

Vince walked by holding his tool bag and went out of his way to come over to me and pull me against his chest in a one-armed hug. After kissing the top of my head, he walked off without a word, leaving me more confused than ever.

"All right," I blurted out to Cal. "What's with all the hugging?"

"What, you have a hands off policy now that you're married?" he asked with a grin big enough to let me know he was just joking.

I kept staring at him instead of dignifying his attempt at a joke with a comment and waited for him to break.

"Seriously, Steph, did you think we'd hear about you dropping everything for a few weeks to put yourself directly in the line of fire for one of us and we'd keep treating you like this was no big deal?"

I considered the question and realized the answer was, "Yeah, that's exactly what I expected."

That wiped the smile completely off his face. "Then we need to spend a little more time with you, if you don't know us any better than that. This is huge, the kind of sacrifice we'd all hesitate before making, but from what Tank said, you immediately responded and ran straight into danger just because we needed you to watch over one of us. That's big, Steph, and we don't exactly know how to let you know what it means to us, so that's why you're getting a little more attention but not much talking to go with it."

"I think Hallmark could help you guys," I teased, remembering my dad once telling my mother that he didn't have to say sappy stuff because that's why they made greeting cards.

My comment helped to lighten the mood, so I added, "Besides, I'm not doing something you guys wouldn't have done for me. I think at some point, I've put every one of you in danger to various degrees, so I'm returning the favor because this was something I was capable of doing."

"Don't sell yourself short here," he said as the noise level from the sliding back doors alerted me to the fact that they were bringing Manny in from back there. It was a wider entrance than the door I'd used, so it made sense. Plus, it would give them direct access to the den, which was the biggest room in the house.

I stood up to move toward the noise, arriving in the den just in time to see them settling him off the mobile gurney and into the hospital bed that was already set up and waiting. Bobby had most of the same equipment Manny had been hooked up to at St. Elizabeth's, so I began to relax that it seemed my pretend husband was going to be in good hands with all the guys around to watch over him and the technology of a mini-hospital available, as well.

"All right Steph," Bobby said, motioning for me to come over to him. "Let me show how all this works."

By nature, I was a curious person, so I followed his direction, very interested in all the machines filling up what I remembered to be a huge room at one time. I guess the combination of the outdated furniture plus the small medical suite and six large, well-armed men did take up most of the room, making it feel smaller than it really was.

I watched Bobby feed the IV tubing into the machine to monitor the flow and then listened as he explained the alarm. He spoke quickly and with obvious expertise as he talked about levels and things to look for. When he wound down, he said, "But you don't need to worry about remembering all of that because I've written it down for you to use when you do your hourly checks."

And that was when the warning system in my head began screeching in earnest. "What do you mean, when I do my hourly checks? Where are you going to be?"

I never knew how fascinating shag carpeting could be to a group of former military men. But it must have contained the secret to winning any battle, because it held every set of eyes like some invisible laser beam was forcing them not to look away.

"Bobby?" I tried softening my voice. Maybe the guys were afraid of the hysterical female with all the shiny diamonds on her. "Where are you going to be?"

"I'm going to be at Haywood, keeping up appearances so that RangeMan is in no way involved in this. I can come by anytime you think it's necessary, but otherwise, I'll swing by about dinnertime every day until this is over. You can call me at any hour with questions, and I'm going to show you how to give him his meds. We can go over any changes when I come by everyday." His speech was getting faster the longer he rambled, so I figured I needed to help him stop talking.

I help up my hand. "You know I'm not a nurse, right?"

"True, but I know you can do this," Bobby countered, holding my gaze with his to reinforce his confidence.

I let out a long breath and said, "All right. Show me again what I need to do."

He smiled and started over from the beginning, patiently reviewing everything I needed to do or look out for. The guys began to slowly disburse while I was distracted, and by the time Bobby was finished, it was just he and Tank with me and Manny.

Tank cleared his throat to get my attention. "This house is the perfect place for you two to hide out, but you know you have to stay completely hidden, right?"

"Yeah, no sunbathing in the front yard. I got it," I told him, failing to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"It's more than that," he said, ignoring my tone to address my intent instead. "We left the boards up on the windows to give the impression that no one was here and we'll be blocking the back door again when we leave. You can't go outside at all. Hell, I'd prefer you keep the use of the lights to a minimum from sun down until midnight, when most people aren't likely to be looking at a deserted house for potential activity. Technically, I should be telling you that yelling isn't going to be allowed, too, but given Manny's current state, I don't think that will be a problem."

This wasn't house arrest... This was a complete imprisonment! "What can I do?"

"Cable is hooked up, the laptop is fully equipped, and Hector got you a high-speed connection up and running. And the hall closet has quite the collection of jigsaw puzzles to put together," Tank replied without breaking a smile.

I foolishly attempted to stare him down, but I'd grossly underestimated Tank's skills, so I had to blink and look away first. "All right, you win. Tell me about my new security system."

Mention games, and Tank is all business. Mention high tech security, and the big guy cracks a smile.

He motioned me over and described the motion detectors outside and showed me the keypads at the front and back doors. He gave me a four digit code to use but cautioned me that if a window or door was opened, I needed to alert the control room, because they would be monitoring this location as a hot spot, giving it extra attention so that any alert would get an immediate response. To keep us hidden, we needed to prevent a fully armed response team from pulling up if it wasn't needed, so I couldn't just "forget" to call if a door or window opened.

I was quickly hitting that overload point where my head was aching, my eyes wanted to close, and I'd give my last Tasty Cake to be able to lie down and sleep for a few hours – or days.

Tank stopped talking and looked at me for a moment, before summing it all up by saying, "Just stay inside, and if something goes off, call the office, but no matter what else happens, don't shoot it."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and Tank laughed. He didn't just smile or snicker; he howled with rocking laughter. It was hard to stay mad at him when he was obviously having such a good time. Even though I wasn't entirely sure I knew what was so funny, I did remember shooting the first security system Ranger had Hector install in my apartment, so if he'd been told that story, I could see why he felt the warning was necessary.

"Yuck it up, big guy," I told him, unable to get the necessary amount of outrage in my voice to calm him down any.

He finally managed to pull himself together long enough to look down at me. "All right, Little Girl, you'll be fine. You may feel alone, but we're only a phone call away, and we'll do anything you need while you're taking care of one of the guys."

Tank turned to walk away, but I called out to him, causing him to stop and spin back to look at me. "Are you sure I can do this?"

"We already went over this," he began. "Bossman said yes, and I've learned to never doubt Ranger."

"What about you?" I pushed, needing more than just his pledge of Ranger's belief from a distance away. "Do you think I can do it?"

"I got no doubt," he replied, completely confident. "I've seen you handle a lot worse than this and come out on the other side. You'll be fine."

"Thanks," I said as a weak response. I guess I'd just needed to know there was someone close by that believed I was capable of handling whatever this might require.

We were both quiet until Bobby came back into the room and said my name. I spun around, surprised to hear him, since I'd assumed he was in the den.

"Manny's waking up, so I want you to prep his meds and give them to him just so you have the practice."

I moved right away, remembering what the nurse at the hospital had said about how he would be in so much extra pain because of the movement to get him here. Bobby had a card in his hand with pain medication information, dosage, the name of the drug, and where to inject it. He talked me through prepping the needle and using the port in his IV to give Manny the meds.

It took about five minutes after I injected it for Manny to settle back down. He'd never fully woken up, but he was moving, and his face was definitely showing the stress of the pain he was in.

I couldn't look away until I saw him relax, and then I glanced up at Bobby and asked, "How soon before I can give him more?"

Bobby showed me how to make notes in Manny's file and how to know when he could have more. Then we talked about things I could do to help him if he began to wake up between allowable doses. In the end, it boiled down to distracting him as long as possible.

He said, "You'll be great at that, because you are the RangeMan distraction expert."

I rolled my eyes. "Somehow, I don't think me dressing up like a slut and using bar pick-up lines will help Manny to feel any better."

"You'd be surprised how little it takes to make a guy stop thinking about the pain in his body," Bobby replied. "But if you ever want to practice that particular pain management technique, I'll gladly be your test subject."

I smacked his shoulder and grinned. "You've been hanging out with Lester far too long."

"I'm hurt, Steph, really," he replied with a fake pout. "How do you know that all this time, Santos hasn't been copying my moves?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response," I replied, glad to have someone around to joke with.

No sooner had I thought that then Bobby announced he'd done everything here he could, so he was leaving. I felt myself start to panic as I ran through all the possible things that could go wrong as soon as Bobby disappeared.

"I'll be back at dinnertime," he replied, sensing my unease at him leaving. "If it gets to be too much, let me know, and we'll try to make some other arrangements, but remember, this was the plan that Ranger came up with, so he definitely believed you could do it."

I figured that was true, so I decided to act as though I trusted him and believed what he said. Anything else would be an insult to the guys that had done so much for me over the last few years.

Bobby reminded me of all the instructions he'd typed out and then let himself out, reminding me to set the security system. I rolled my eyes at his fatherly reminder to lock up after he left but dutifully moved over to the keypad and entered the code the guys had given me.

Once that was done, I turned around and faced the living room, leaning against the cool wall for support. It felt surreal to be back here without my great-grandparents being here as well. I wondered if they would have minded me hiding in their house? Probably not. They used to help me hide from my mother when she would announce we had to leave. I could remember my great-grandfather, my Nagypapa as I had called him holding open the cabinet door in the kitchen and pointing for me to climb in.

He put his fingers to his lips and told me, "Shhh, I help you," before shutting the door behind me and whistling to cover up the noise I was undoubtedly making moving the pots and pans out of my way. Nagymama came in and asked what he was doing in her kitchen, and he just laughed and said he was putting things away. I'm sure he also gestured to her where I was hiding, but she kept his secret and played along so that I could hide from my mother for at least ten minutes until Mom began to yell that if I didn't come out that instant, then I couldn't have any doughnuts after mass on Sunday. I instantly jumped, knowing she would hold true to her word, and before I could move to touch the door, Nagyapapa opened it instead and knelt down to say, "Game's over. We lost to doughnuts."

That memory made me want to go to the kitchen and see if by any chance Ella had thought to pick up any pastries. As I walked into the outdated kitchen, I saw a white bag and knew what was inside. Leaning against the cabinet I'd once hidden in, I took a deep breath and shut my eyes while biting into a fresh Boston cream. As I chewed, I could swear I heard his voice whispering, "Shhh, I help you still."

Obviously, I need some sleep – soon. But if I was going to hallucinate, at least the ghost I was conjuring up was a friendly one.