All the characters alive in this story are from JE. The deceased ones are from my crazy mind.
Jenny (JenRar) thanks so much for all you've done as the beta on this story.
Chapter 7 – Coming Clean
I moved to the kitchen, where Cal was unwrapping two meatball subs with a third still in the red and white checkered paper that was Pino's trademark wrapping.
"When all this is over, I think I'd follow you anywhere," I said, drawing in a deep breath of the wonderful smell of my favorite food.
Cal laughed. "So I can forget the flowers and poems. All it takes to win you over is a little sauce and cheese?"
Pinching a glob of melted cheese between my fingers, I pulled it to my mouth and shut my eyes as the flavor hit my tongue. When I opened my eyes, Cal wasn't bothering to hide the fact that he was staring at me.
I glanced down at the sub and back up to him before committing myself. "Yeah, if you could keep me well fed, that's all it would take." We both laughed before I added, "I sound so easy, don't I?"
"Nah, just clear in your expectations, which is refreshing, really," Cal assured me.
We joked during the time it took us to each finish our subs. He told me about picking up the skip I'd given him intel on, and then commented that he had a new stack of questions for me to research. I followed his gaze to the stack in question and saw that it was twice as big as the one from last night.
"You all realize there are some things I have to do for Manny, right?"
As the mention of his name, Cal's face went from smiling and playful to his version of a blank face.
"Ah, damn it, Cal, don't shut down on me now. We were having so much fun," I pleaded.
He looked confused, so I explained, "I finally felt like I was having a conversation, friend to friend, not bodyguard to bodyguardee. And now you've done that blank face thing where you pretend to have no emotions, and I'm left wondering what I've done wrong."
"Bodyguardee?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as though questioning if that was even a word.
I decided to smack him on his arm for that being the only thing he could comment on after what I'd just said to him. Of course my attempt at inflicting bodily harm on him destroyed his blank face and earned me a smile instead.
"You think of me as a friend?" he asked, still smiling, but his eyes held something else that was harder to define – hope or vulnerability perhaps.
"I do," my answer came out quickly. "Of course I do, but I know you guys see me as a work project more than a friend, and I understand that. You usually end up having to do extra stuff because of me. But since I've been here, you haven't treated me like the girl you have to keep an eye on. You've joked with me and made me feel like I was a part of something, so yeah, I'd call that friendship – or at least the start of one."
"Friends," Cal repeated, as though trying out the word to see if it fit.
While he was mulling it over, I started to worry that maybe he was thinking we could be something more than friends, and I started to panic. He was a great guy, definitely great to look at and hang out with, but I couldn't exactly see him as boyfriend material. He struck me more as a puppy that could be ferocious if pushed, but other than that, he was just a soft thing that I had the urge to play with and pet, not link with for life.
Cal burst out laughing, and I had no idea what set him off, so I waited for an explanation. Once he'd pulled himself together, he explained, "I think you were either thinking out loud and I only caught half of your thoughts, or you are proposing some kind of friends with benefits arrangement that will including heavy petting, but no chance of marriage."
My go-to reaction of blushing madly and my brain shutting down normal speech to explain my most recent motor mouth moment gave Cal a chance to rescue me.
"No worries, angel. You aren't exactly my type for a hook up." He pointed to his forehead as evidence. "Somehow, I don't see you comfortable in the bars I frequent when I'm looking for fun."
Before I could take offense at him assuming to know me, he added, "Besides, I can't remember the last time somebody thought me worthy enough to want to be a friend to me. I mean, I get plenty of women who think I'm good enough for a one night stand and guys who are willing to work with me, but to put a label on me like that is kind of unusual. I don't think I'd want to screw it up by trying to romance you outside of your previous demand for subs."
I thought about what he was saying. "You're friends with the guys..."
His expression appeared unconvinced. "I've served with a lot of them, so I know some of their past, and we've shared a bunch of hellish experiences. And since we're in the same business, it's easy to hang out for a game or go out drinking together, so I guess in that way, we're friends. But I was thinking about the kind of friend that would stay up talking and trust you enough to tell you something they wouldn't share with anybody else. That's kind of rare for guys, even at RangeMan."
When he put it like that, I guessed I really didn't see the guys sitting around drinking beer and sharing their deepest secrets.
"I don't really have anything that's that private to share, though," I warned him. "My life is pretty much an open book, even if I didn't want it to be."
"So if I asked you about Ranger, for example, you'd tell me what the deal was there?" he pushed.
"If I knew, I'd gladly explain it," I replied, wishing it wasn't so difficult to admit that. "We're – hell, I don't know what we are. We're friends, for sure, at least on my part. He's always believed in me and done everything in his power to help me when I've needed it, even when I didn't ask."
"Yeah, but I've been around when he's pulled you behind the bonds office, and when you came back to the front, you looked like you'd been royally kissed. So, there's more to it than just backup when you need it," he countered.
"Oh, there's chemistry – loads and loads of that. But Ranger says he can't have a relationship because his life is too risky. And I say I can't have regular sex with a guy if there can't be some form of commitment, so we're at an impasse of sorts." That sounded reasonable to me.
"An impasse?" Cal repeated.
I nodded, wondering what was wrong with that description.
"So you two have never had sex, then," Cal wondered, as though he couldn't believe what I was saying.
I couldn't figure out how to answer that without being so embarrassed that I couldn't talk or without lying. I guess my expression gave him an answer.
"Then if you've had sex and Ranger's still around, you guys have a relationship; it's just not the kind that leads to the altar."
"No, it's the kind that doesn't lead anywhere. He can offer me the protection of RangeMan and mind-blowing sex, but he can't offer me anything about his past or his present outside of what I already know. He can't have a relationship because it would be too dangerous for me – and I guess for him, too," I offered, hoping I wasn't putting words in Ranger's mouth that he would disagree with.
"How long ago did he give you the no relationship speech?" Cal wondered.
I had to think about it, but then I remembered it easily. "The day after Morelli and I finally came to terms with the fact that we absolutely should never date again."
"I'm sorry, but how did that conversation trigger Ranger giving you his take on dating?" He wasn't being nosey; he was genuinely confused.
"I went to his apartment for dinner that night and told him about the epiphany Joe and I had come to together. Ranger and I toasted me finally getting my romantic life straight. One toast led to another, one comment led to another, and the next thing I know, I'm being reminded about the thread count of his sheets up close and personal." I couldn't stop the smile from coming over my face at that memory. Ranger was really good at celebrating.
"The next morning when he came back after his work out, I was getting dressed, and he told me had to go out of town for a while, so I told him to be careful and to call me when he got back in town. His face got all serious, and then he kissed me before reminding me that as much as he might wish it were different, all he could offer me was what we'd just shared. He couldn't do real intimacy, and if I needed a night of sex, he hoped I'd give him a call, but if I needed more than that, he hoped I'd move on past Morelli and find someone who could offer me that, too," I finished the memory, glad to see that it didn't sting as much to say it as it had at the time.
"What an ass," Cal responded, obviously not seeing it in the same light I did.
Honestly, Ranger had never led me on, and he'd never lied to me. If I'd entertained hope of him changing his mind, I can honestly say he didn't give me any reason to do so.
"Now wait. You can't judge Ranger for repeating what he'd always told me in that setting," I reminded him.
"Was that the only time you two had been together?" Cal asked, pushing me for more details than I wanted to give. I could see that he wasn't as intent on getting the particulars about our night together as he was trying to figure out what Ranger was up to.
"No, the first time, it was because I lost a bet. The next morning, he reminded me about his stance on relationships and suggested I reconcile with Morelli," I began, figuring the only way to make Cal drop this was to answer the questions so he'd stop asking and see what I was saying was true.
Cal put a hand up, and the muscles on the side of his jaw seemed to be working like he was trying to contain some murderous roar. "You lost a bet and had to sleep with him?"
"Yeah, but it wasn't like it sounds." I rolled my eyes, seeing how that sentence would have put Ranger in a horrible light. "We'd been dancing around each other for a while, Joe and I were on an off stage again, and we both needed a reason to have sex. The bet was really just giving us both an excuse to act on what we wanted to do."
"And was him pushing you back to the cop part of the bet, too?" Cal asked, not letting up at all.
"No..."
It had stung at the time. Even though I found Ranger so intense I wasn't sure I could handle more of him, there was still a little voice in the back of my head that wondered if he was disappointed in our shared night so he was trying to ensure it didn't happen anymore. Of course, the chemistry between us didn't diminish, so I used that as proof that the night must have been fun for him, too. Then when Bella put the damn Vordo curse on me, he'd been more than willing to help me out.
"What in the hell are you thinking about?" Cal interrupted my mental ramblings. "One minute, you looked upset, then you looked like you were going to finish off your sub and the extra one I got for me, and now you look pissed off."
I was shocked at how spot on he'd been in tracking my responses, so I backed up and explained more about my past with Ranger, finishing with our time together in Hawaii, my discussion with Morelli after the fact that led to us finally calling it quits for good, and the celebration I'd begun this whole inappropriate sharing episode with.
"Wow... Now I see why you usually just brush people off by saying it's complicated," Cal surmised.
"Yeah, that doesn't really come close, does it?" I repeated, glad to see Cal calming down after getting the whole picture.
By the time we finished picking my love life apart, we were both done with our subs and I was looking at the unwrapped one between us, wondering if there was a ladylike way to ask for part of it. There was no way I could finish another sub, but a few more bites might hit the spot perfectly.
Cal stood up and went to a block of wood holding Nagymama's knives, selecting one and testing it on his finger before coming over and setting it exactly in the middle of the sandwich I'd been coveting. "How much do you want?" he asked with a smile, letting me know he was more than willing to share.
I marked a different place, and he copied my movement with the knife before sawing through the paper and the sub to have two pieces. Then he took the smaller piece and began unwrapping it.
"Hey, that was mine," I complained.
He looked confused and then grinned at me. "I thought you wanted the bigger piece."
I snatched the small one he'd already opened and pushed the larger portion in front of him. "I have a great metabolism, but my stomach is still only so big."
We kept talking for the next hour, finishing dinner together and having a great time. The alarm on his watch went off, interrupting us.
He shut it off and looked slightly sheepish while confessing, "I'm sorry, Steph. I was supposed to come and watch Manny so you could get a break, but I've kept you tied up while he was sleeping so you couldn't do anything else. Tomorrow night, I'll be sure you get a break, all right?"
"Tomorrow night, you're going to put your money where your mouth is and play cards with me so I can see if your big words about being the reigning RangeMan poker champion is just all hype," I replied, trying to let him know I didn't care about having time by myself. Having somebody to talk to was a much bigger treat in my eyes.
"I'll pick up a new deck of cards, just so I know you haven't marked a set here," he replied, obviously loving the idea of a challenge.
I walked him to the door and waited for him to call the control room before he turned back and kissed me on my forehead. "Have a good night, angel. I'll see you tomorrow."
I locked up behind him and thought back over the conversation we'd shared over the last few hours, amazed at how open and generous he had been with his answers to everything I'd asked of him. He might think he was rusty at the whole making true friends business, but it seemed pretty easy to me.
I heard the television come on in the den, so I moved in there to check on Manny again. He glared at me when I walked in, causing me ask if everything was all right.
"You drugged me."
"Oh no, I didn't," I quickly defended myself.
"So I fell asleep and woke up with a screaming headache for no reason?" he replied, with his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Something about his tone pissed me off, and then I got doubly mad because he was ruining the good time I'd just had with Cal. "Look, I was taking a nap down the hall, and Bobby was here to check on you. When I woke up and came down to see how you were, Bobby had knocked you out because, according to him, you were being a huge pain in the ass, which I'm finding pretty easy to believe at the moment. After Bobby left, Cal came over, and I've been in the kitchen with him until now."
"Trust me, I'm completely aware of the time you just spent with Cal," Manny pushed back. "I didn't realize the guy was such a damn chick."
I glared back at the man in front of me that I was supposed to be caring for. "In order to keep you from suffering an avoidable injury, I'd suggest you not talk about Cal anymore."
Manny raised an eyebrow in question, pissing me off even more than if he'd responded with words.
"Think what you want. I didn't knock you out, but I can certainly see why the idea was so appealing that Bobby couldn't resist," I bit back.
He looked at the television, but the expression on his face made me think he wasn't really watching it. "All right," he replied in a softer tone. "Now that you've jogged my memory, I think I remember Bobby giving me something and saying it was to help him not to kill me."
"What did you say to set him off?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. "I mean, Bobby's not usually so harsh when people are injured."
His good shoulder shrugged, and he looked down at his leg in a cast to reply, "I think I took too many blows at what RangeMan holds most dear and he either had to knock me out with drugs or his fist. Of the two options, I guess he picked the better one for a medic."
"Ah," I replied, without really understanding what in the hell he was talking about. I decided to try changing the subject and asked if he needed anything.
He looked down, and in my gut, I knew there was something he wanted but for whatever reason, he was reluctant to ask for it.
Then I remembered the jello and decided to help him out. "There's jello in the fridge, and I can bring you some of that along with some water to see how you feel getting some fluids like that."
"What kind?" he asked, sounding like the nicer version of the man that I liked talking to.
"Watermelon," I answered, hoping that was all right, because I really didn't have hours to wait for another kind to set up.
"Okay," he replied, looking back at the television, as though looking me in the eye right now would make accepting my help that much harder.
I pulled everything together and moved the bed back up to more of a seated position so he could handle the liquid easier. Using a tray on wheels that had been at the side of the room, I put it on top and scooted it over to hover just above his lap, easily within reach.
"Thank you," he replied once I'd turned away and was no longer facing him. "I know I'm not…easy."
"I can handle not easy," I informed him, before deciding he needed to get a few things straight if we were going to survive this house arrest. "But being an ass is something entirely different."
It almost looked like he wanted to smile, but he held himself back to say, "Noted," instead.
"I'll be in the kitchen working through the pile of searches Cal just delivered. Call me if you need anything," I announced.
"The Rangers game will be on in ten minutes," he reminded me when I was about to exit the room. "If you want to work in here, I'll mute the television, and then you can still see some of the game."
I told myself that he was offering to make up for how terribly he'd been treating me and to refuse would be closing the door on his attempt at civility so I thanked him and grabbed what I'd need to do the work in the den instead. Armed with the stack of searches, my laptop, and a highlighter, I sat cross-legged in the easy chair and began pulling up missing pieces of information to fill in the gaps.
It took a couple of hours, but before the game was over, I had finished the whole stack of work. It was a nice feeling to know that I was done, but at the same time, I knew I wouldn't get any more until the next evening, so I wasn't sure what I could do to keep from going crazy.
"You're finished with all of those?" Manny asked, unable to believe that was possible.
"Yeah, I tried to drag it out, but it didn't take long to get everything they'd asked for," I explained.
Manny shut his eyes. I realized we were working on six hours since he'd gotten any meds and mentally kicked my own ass for ignoring his obvious discomfort for so long.
"Ah shit, I'm sorry, Manny. I didn't check the clock, and with Bobby and then Cal here, I lost track of time," I rambled as I worked to get his meds dosed out.
"Don't knock me out," he stated, but his voice sounded strained, as though he were asking, despite the lack of a question.
"I said I wouldn't," I reminded him, injecting the meds he should have had two hours ago. "If you need it, say the word, but otherwise, I'm just giving you the three things Bobby laid out."
Manny nodded and shut his eyes tightly. I knew he was hurting somewhere, but his damn pride was keeping him from saying anything about it.
"What hurts?" I asked, figuring I should probably begin to get a baseline of what was normal so I could bring up anything unusual when Bobby was around.
He shook his head, like he was trying to deny that he was in pain, but when his good hand moved across his abdomen in the direction of his injured leg, he'd given up his secret. Obviously the pressure on the broken ribs wasn't helpful, because he had to pull his hand away to keep from compressing the tissue around that injury any more.
I moved over and pulled the sheet back on the leg I thought was giving him trouble, being careful to not pull it back from his groin and get a view that he probably wouldn't appreciate.
"What are you doing?" he asked, but the fact that he was gritting his teeth kept me from worrying about him getting too upset with me.
"I'm looking to see if anything is out of the ordinary with your leg," I responded, trying to sound a lot more confident than I really felt. "Where does it hurt?" I asked, putting my hand on the top of his cast where the skin was visible.
"Up a little and more to the outside," he described, surprising me that he was attempting to answer my question.
I moved my fingers in response to his direction, and when I landed on the right spot, he made a sound to let me know I'd guessed correctly. Then I began to tenderly massage the area under my fingers, glad to feel the skin was cool to the touch but tight in the muscle, like he had a cramp of some sort. I could hear him drawing in deep breaths and releasing them slowly while I kept kneading the spasm away.
Finally, he broke the silence and said, "I think you've got it." He stopped to clear his voice before adding, "Thanks."
"Are you sleepy?" I asked, wondering if he was as tired of resting as I would be in his position.
"Not one damn bit," he replied.
I knew my face was totally red from what I was about to say, but it had been bothering me for the last day, and I felt like I simply had to say something. "You're stuck in that bed until Bobby says you can start trying to move out of it, but it's been a couple of days since you've had a bath, so do you want to try that now?"
Manny looked down and then back up at me to ask, "Who gave me my last bath? A couple of days ago, we were here, not the hospital in New York, right?"
"Yes," I replied, putting away everything I'd worked on earlier as a distraction to keep from having to look him in the eye as I confessed. "And I was the one that did it."
"Okay," he replied, I assumed giving me permission to move forward with a bath. "I guess you know what you're doing, then."
"It's a bath, Manny. We aren't talking rocket science here," I replied, not really as bitter as the sentence may have sounded. "Plus, most of the stitches can get wet now, which will make it much easier."
He watched me with interest as I brought in a basin of water with a washcloth on top. I'd already added the wash and the healing herbs from Nagymama. I couldn't explain it, but when I was drawing the bath water, I felt like I really needed to add the gift of my great-grandmother, as well. His brow furrowed, but he said nothing until I laid a towel over his lap and then dipped the cloth in the water and twisted it to wring out the excess water.
"What do I need to do?" he asked, sounding strangely nervous.
"You can let me know if I hurt you or if anything seems unusually tender," I suggested, and then I set about cleaning him as gently as possible. It took a while because I felt like with him awake and watching the progress, I needed to do a better job than the first bath I'd given him.
Once I'd finished his torso, including as much of his back as I could reach by having him sit up more than he had before, I left to get some fresh water.
When I came back in, I left the towel right where it was to keep the sheet in place over his crotch and then untucked the sheet from the bottom of the bed and pulled it up to reveal his legs. I began with the ankle and toes, foot and ankle peeping out from his cast, before moving over to his good leg.
"What are you cleaning me with?" he asked as I worked my way up his right leg.
"It's some special bodywash Bobby left," I answered, not looking up.
I could hear him inhaling slowly before he said, "It smells like trees."
I decided now was not the time to tell him about the twenty-year-old herbs I'd put in his bath water and just agreed with his general comment while getting his leg shiny clean. Honestly, it wasn't that dirty, but I was stalling about what to do for the area still hidden under the sheet and towel. I put the washcloth back in the basin and then tucked the sheet back in at the bottom.
I'd put it off as long as I reasonably could, so I drew on my courage and said, "All right, I can finish this up, and we can just admit that it will be a little on the awkward side, or you can take the washcloth and get the parts I've missed."
He held his hand out without hesitation, and I was relieved to know I didn't have to figure out how to get him clean while attempting to look uninterested in what my hand was touching. He took the cloth, and I turned around, pretending to tidy up the laptop and files I'd already moved out of the way.
"All right," he said to let me know he was finished.
I picked up the basin and held it out for him to drop the cloth in instead of me taking it from him and then having to act like I wasn't thinking about where that cloth had just been while he was watching me.
I was two steps from the hall to go through to rinse everything out when he said, "Thanks for the bath."
"You're welcome," I replied simply, trying to matching his grateful tone.
I finished cleaning everything in the bathroom and then stood there looking at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out what I should next. I didn't want to risk saying something to piss him off and get the grumpy version of Manny again, but I didn't want to avoid him, either.
Before I could make a decision, I felt a slightly cool sensation come over me, and a voice in my ear encouraged, "Be strong child, and your strength will help him find his."
I stood up immediately, not sure if I wanted to know where that thought had come from. But when I stood up, I found that my back was a little straighter and I wasn't quite as nervous about going back out to face him.