Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed from JE, the title is borrowed from Bon Jovi

Warning: Just language, no spoilers

Thank you very much for your wonderful reviews, you guys are awesome!

A special Thank You to Stayce without whom this fic wouldn't be possible, and to Becky for brainstorming with me.

Keep the Faith

Chapter 11

I sank back, now really deflated and numb, I couldn't even cry. As much as I wanted to pinch myself to find out if it had been a dream, I knew that would have been useless. This had really happened.

"Fuck," I agreed. I could vividly imagine what Ranger thought he'd seen and got a flashback of my ex-husband Dickie boinking the skank Joyce Barnhart on my dining room table.

Granted, what I'd seen wasn't open to interpretation, Joyce had been 'woman superior' straddling Dickie, but I still thought I knew what Ranger had been thinking, or at least how much I'd hurt him.

I didn't know why he'd come back but after seeing the look on his face, I knew he would never come back again.

After a moment of silence, Tank cleared his throat. "Well, look on the bright side," he said, standing up and pulling me with him. "He saw what we wanted him to see, right?"

I grimaced but when I looked up at him I saw that he was trying to cheer me up. "You mean like some day we'll look back at this and laugh?" I asked sarcastically.

This made him smile. "Something like that, yeah. In the meantime, I think I better avoid Ranger in empty hallways and dark alleys."

I had a feeling he was only half joking, but I didn't think Ranger would do anything to Tank. After all, it wasn't his style to be angry, that would mean he'd have to express feelings. Ranger didn't do jealousy.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," I said and tried not to think about the next time I walked into the RangeMan office. I really had no idea how Ranger would react and how I'd react to Ranger's reaction.

It was late now, past midnight, but I wasn't the least bit tired anymore. I didn't even want to close my eyes because then I kept seeing the look on Ranger's face when I'd peeked over Tank's shoulder.

"I think I fucked up," I said and Tank's smile faded.

"You shouldn't talk like that," he said, taking me by my shoulders. "You shouldn't even think like that. What makes you assume the blame here? Whatever happened, it left you crying on the floor, not him." He gestured at the floor where he'd found me. "As far as I'm concerned, Ranger fucked up, not you."

I'm not a touchy-feely person per se, but I spontaneously hugged him. I had to. Coming from Tank, it was so comforting to hear that I wasn't to blame.

Here was Ranger's partner and friend, taking my side. Tank hugged me back quickly and then released me.

"You know that, right?" He leaned down to be eye to eye with me and I grimaced.

"You can do better than that, tell me you know it," he demanded and I had no trouble picturing him as a drill sergeant in the Army torturing recruits.

"I know it," I said and straightened my shoulders. Tank smiled approvingly and clapped my back, making me stumble forward.

"Good. Now," he said, stretching. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat. Let's try to get some sleep."

He walked off into the living room and I went to the hall closet to get a pillow and sheets before I followed him, wondering if his change of subject meant he was uncomfortable talking about it or really considered the topic closed.

When I change topics abruptly like that, it usually means I'm uncomfortable talking about it. But I couldn't picture Tank felling uncomfortable talking about anything.

I was lost in thought and almost ran into him when I entered the living room. He took the pillow and blanket from me. "The couch isn't gonna work," he said, turning to face the couch again. With him in it, the living room seemed small.

"Why do they even make couches that aren't even six feet long? Six feet is average height, right?"

He brushed past me. I'd never thought of my couch as too short, but now that I thought about it, the only people that had slept on it had been way shorter than what Tank considered average height.

"You can't sleep in my bed," I said carefully. I didn't want to offend him when he just wanted to protect me, but there was no way he could sleep with me. What if we got entangled while asleep and somebody found us like that? I hadn't come up with anything to tell Ranger about the 'situation' he'd interrupted, if he found me in bed with Tank…I didn't want to think about that.

"Don't worry," Tank said, shaking out the blanket. Before I could ask him what he meant I heard my cell phone ring from the bedroom.

'Right,' I remembered. 'I was going to go to bed and call Lula.' When was this, a week ago, a year? No way it had only been a few hours. She was probably calling me now to complain that I was hogging her man and not even calling her or something.

"Hold that thought," I told Tank and rushed to catch the call before it went to voicemail.

One of these days, I will have learned to always check caller ID before I pick up my phone, but that night I was too stressed to even think of it as I hit the connect button, convinced it was Lula.

"Stephanie," the caller said. "Sorry to call you so late, I tried several times before."

Harry the Hammer himself. Shit. I couldn't really tell him how far from my mind he was right now, I was sure he wanted an update. I sat down on my bed, my thoughts racing, trying to come up wit a response.

"I was busy," I replied lamely. Well, technically, I had been busy…busy could mean all sorts of things after all.

"I understand," Harry said and he sounded sincere. "I was just wondering when you think you might get around to fulfilling your end of the bargain?"

I wondered where and when he'd learned to talk like that. He sounded like a Rutgers English professor, not like a cousin of the Sopranos. I vowed to ask Connie about that the next chance I got.

"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. I was sorry I made that stupid promise in the first place and I was sorry I was now in his debt. I was planning on making good on my promise, but at that moment I felt like telling Harry he was on the lower end of my priority list. Probably wouldn't be a good move, I decided, and cleared my throat instead.

"It's been a hectic couple days, I haven't had a chance to…"

"I understand," Harry said again. "Things come up, it can't be helped. That's why I'm only asking for a timeframe. "

I chewed on my lip trying to come up with something to tell Harry that I would at least have the chance to stick to. I had been so relieved when I'd learned what he wanted me to do, but after that, I hadn't spent a minute thinking about the when and how.

"After this weekend for sure," I promised. "Things should calm down then." I had no idea what things I was talking about specifically and the weekend crap really just popped out. Don't all unpleasant plans start on a Monday? My diets always start on Monday, people quit smoking on that day, and it seemed like as good a day as any to work on my pay back for Joyce while fulfilling my promise to Harry.

"Do you need any help with your current issues?" Harry asked and I remembered how Ranger used to ask me that question, and the inclination had been the same: If I said 'yes', they'd 'take care' of my problems. Usually the problem had been people and a nod from me could make them disappear. Permanently. I had a feeling Harry's expertise in this area exceeded Ranger's.

If only I had any of those problems, I found myself wishing.

"No," I said a little too harshly so I was quick to add "They're…family issues, I'm sure I can handle them." I crossed my fingers both because I'd lied and because I hoped Harry would buy it. Probably he was thinking since he was extended family, he would know of any issues, but if he did, he didn't tell me. Then again, who knew how much Vinnie knew about even his closest relatives. I didn't know anybody in my family who's admit to spending time with him. And my mother never mentioned Lucille, Vinnie's wife.

"Next week will be fine," he said, as pleasant as ever. "Please call me if I can help in any way. Oh, and Stephanie, I'd appreciate a status report."

I promised him I'd call him every day, just to get him off the phone and had a funny feeling in my stomach when I disconnected. Sort of like buyer's remorse, when you realized just how much money you just spent but it was too late.

I had no idea how to get Joyce out of Vinnie's life and Harry wanted updates. Ungh!

"Everything okay?" Tank interrupted my thoughts when I came out of the bedroom and I plastered a smile on my face before I turned to face him.

"Work related," I said vaguely and waved my hand dismissively. It wasn't a lie and it wasn't too specific.

If he asked me what work I'd be in trouble though. The Merry Men knew I'd been dealing with Harry, but they were under the impression that Guzzarella had been the last of it and I was sure they didn't expect me to have any contact with Harry himself.

Now I noticed I was standing on the comforter he'd taken from me. It lay on the floor right outside my bedroom. "What's this?"

"Well, sweetheart, you're standing on my bed," Tank grinned. I'm sure I looked as confused as I was because Tank chuckled.

"You're sleeping here?" I gestured at the floor. The carpeted, but otherwise bare, floor somewhere in no-man's land between my living room and my bedroom.

Now that I looked at it I could tell Tank had folded the comforter in half and put it directly in front of my bedroom door.

"Yes, well, the couch is too short, your bed is too narrow, so the floor is the best option," he explained. I would have slept on a chair before even considering the floor, but I guess Tank had spent more than one night of his life on hard floors, and now it was starting to make sense. And I liked his excuse my bed was too narrow when we both knew he chose the floor because he valued his life.

"Yes, but why here?" I asked. "I'll step on you if I sleepwalk to get something to drink!"

Tank's waggled his eyebrows and finally I gave in and smiled back. "Let me guess," I cocked my head to the side. "This is where you're able to protect me best?"

"Actually," he said, putting the pillow on one end of the comforter, "it's also the only spot where I won't be hitting any furniture when I turn around but yeah, all the better to protect you with." He planted his hands on his hips and grinned at me.

I shook my head but didn't have anything to say. To tell the truth, I was glad to have him so close by, even if I didn't know what he was protecting me from. What mattered was that I didn't think much could get by him.

"Lemme just check your bedroom," he said and since I was still standing in the doorway, he took me by the shoulders and moved me to the side. He checked the fire escape and made sure he locked the window. He winked at me and disappeared into the bathroom.

"There's no exit there," I pointed out.

"No, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do and all…" came his muffled voice from behind the door. Mental head slap. Tank was human after all!

When Tank was done in the bathroom I asked him again if he was sure he would sleep on the floor and this time he gave me the line of having slept under worse conditions and I rolled my eyes to tease him.

"Goodnight then," I smiled and closed the door. I had a feeling I would actually sleep better that night than I had since…okay, since I'd slept in Ranger's bed, I admitted to myself.

Then I straightened my shoulders and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. "I know it," I repeated Tank's earlier words. "Ranger fucked up, not me."

Now if I could only believe that, I'd be golden, I thought as I crawled under my covers.

I turned a couple times, convinced I would never be able to fall asleep. But then I was dreaming and in my dream, I knew I was dreaming, so obviously I was sleeping.

I woke up with tears pooling in my eyes, but I only remember that Joe was in my dream, alive but dead, in the way that only made sense in dreams, and I was left feeling totally empty.

I swallowed back the tears because I'd cried enough in the last few days to last me a lifetime, and crying would never solve anything. Instead, I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling, listening into the night.

There were the muffled sounds of traffic that came in through the open window, and Bob's snoring that filtered in through my now-open bedroom door. At some point, Tank must have cracked it open, I figured.

I fell back asleep reviewing the whole day, and especially the evening, and I finally realized Tank had been right. Ranger had fucked up, not me.

When I woke up, daylight had just started to creep through my open curtains and I thought about just turning around and sleeping some more.

A knock on the door interrupted while I was still contemplating. "Hey Sleeping Beauty, did you have a good night?" Tank asked, filling out the entire doorframe.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It wasn't six yet. He was dressed and smiling. Two things I never manage together at that time.

"I'm off now, the dayshift just arrived," Tank informed me. I frowned. "You're leaving? Back to the lion's den?"

Tank laughed at that. "Yeah, I guess. I need to shower and shave and then get a couple hours sleep before I start work." He sat down on my bed and tousled my hair.

"And you're leaving me with a bodyguard?"

He nodded. "Bobby is downstairs. He'll be your chauffeur today, too, you'll be treated like the princess you are." He winked and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. "Try to stay safe," he said on his way out.

Bob galloped in just as I heard the front door click shut and I knew sleep was out of the question. I'd forgotten to ask Tank if he'd walked Bob, so I threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, shoved my feet into sneakers and put a ball cap on my unruly hair.

Downstairs, I gave Bobby a little finger wave and he got out of his SUV.

"I'm just going around the block," I told him. "I'll be right back."

He nodded and walked over to join me. "I know. And you'll probably be safe. But if you had the ass chewing we got from the boss this morning, you'd be walking with you too."

I raised my eyebrows, hoping Bobby would give me more details. He took Bob's leash out of my hand and started walking.

"What did Ranger say?" I asked when he didn't share any more information. He shrugged. "It's not what he says, it's how he says it," he explained. I knew what he meant. A look from Ranger could intimidate Attila the Hun. Or melt me into a puddle of lust, but I didn't want to go there.

I was trying to decide if I wanted to know how Ranger had said it, if I cared. Well, okay, I knew I cared but did I want to find out he'd handled me like a case?

"It's just a precaution, Steph," Bobby continued. "Think of it as a friend watching your back."

I did think of Bobby as a friend, but something told me he wasn't giving me the whole story.

Bob did his business and we turned to go back. I asked if Bobby wanted some coffee but he declined and said he had to stay in the parking lot, and that was fine by me. I wanted to be alone anyway.

When I had fed Bob and Rex, I started coffee brewing and took a shower. And while I let the water rain over my head I tried to plan my day.

I decided I would not go into RangeMan today. When in doubt, procrastinate the inevitable. I didn't want to see Ranger today, I'd had enough of him the day before.

That left skip-tracing, my parents' house, shopping or housework.

By the time I was toweling off I had decided on cleaning my apartment and then go to the bonds office to check on new skips and make sure the ones I had were still outstanding.

When I was dressed in my usual uniform of jeans and t-shirt, I poured myself some coffee and took stock of my place. I needed to scrub, dust and vacuum, do the dishes and clean under and behind the furniture, and that would be a great way to get some exercise and work out some aggression.

I started in the kitchen by doing the dishes, running the dishwasher, wiping off the counters and mopping the floor. Bob threw me a suspicious look when I picked up his food bowls but believed me when I promised him they'd be back and sauntered off into the living room for some peace and quiet.

Saving the living room for last, I went into my bedroom next, armed with a dust cloth and the vacuum cleaner.

I was about halfway done when I got down on my knees to tackle the mess under my bed. My mom would have a heart attack if she ever looked under there.

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd cleaned under there until I pulled out a forlorn sneaker and moved to toss it aside. There was a jingling sound in there that made me take another look.

I picked it up and when I saw what it was, my heart constricted until I thought it was going to implode and I sank back against the wall.

About a year ago, Morelli had spent the night at my place and was called to a crime scene early in the morning. I remembered being totally spent from our lovemaking before, so I was barely awake until Morelli came back into the bedroom, his hair wet from the shower, and started rummaging.

He'd lost his keys. The keys I was now holding in my hand, fighting back the tears.

He had given up that morning and had used my keys to have a new set made, and later we had forgotten all about it.

There were his house keys and his car keys, and the key to the Duc. Along with the keys there was the hula girl key chain I'd given him as a joke present. He'd said he'd treasure it forever because the girl was almost naked and then he'd winked at me. My throat constricted at the thought of his smile and his wink.

I was clutching the keys as if they might get me in touch with Morelli somehow, all thoughts about cleaning forgotten, and wondered again if there would ever come a day when I could think about him without the sadness and the sense of loss that had overcome me now.

Afraid I was going to find more mementos, I quit cleaning and plopped down on my bed in my thinking position instead.

After Morelli's killer had been caught, I'd had several long sessions with the department's shrink, Stayce. She specialized in grief counseling and I thought she was doing a pretty good job considering I often refused to work with her. She'd told me it would be a long process, not to rush it and bla bla. In the end, I'd known why I felt the way I felt but that hadn't made his death any easier on me.

I took a deep breath and put the keys into my nightstand's drawer, making a mental note to go to Morelli's grave later. I felt like it had been too long since I'd been there, I usually went about once a week.

My cell phone chirped on the nightstand, it was my mom. "I'll call you back," I mumbled to myself and let it go to voicemail. As if they had synched it, RangeMan called next. Because of the switchboard, it was impossible to tell if the control room was calling or Ranger, so I let that call go to voicemail as well.

Not quite five minutes later, just as I was trying to find the energy to get up, someone banged on the front door.

I knew who it was, too, and I should have known better than not to answer the phone. "Hi Bobby," I said when I opened the door.

"Just checking in," he said and I could tell how relieved he was. I stepped back to let him enter.

"They called you because I didn't pick up, didn't they?" He nodded. "Do they every think I'm in the shower or something?" My voice sounded a little bitchy at this point.

It wasn't fair to be irritated about being protected and it wasn't fair to be irritated with Bobby who was only doing his job. I sighed and threw my hands up as I turned and walked into the kitchen.

"There's more though," Bobby said, ignoring my little outburst and following me. "I have news from our friends at the DA's office."

I refilled my cup and got one for him. "Well?" I asked when I handed Bobby his coffee.

"Both Guzzarella and DalBo are out on bail," Bobby said and blew on his coffee, avoiding my eyes. So that's what he'd been holding back earlier? It wasn't like it was his fault or anything.

I had hoped it wouldn't happen but had known better. Of course Guzzarella would be 'connected'.

'Piece of shit legal system,' as Lula would sum it up. They'd probably had the best lawyers money could buy, too.

"DalBo?" I asked, and then it clicked. "You mean Eric?"

"Tank said you knew him," Bobby said, nodding.

I shrugged. Tank and I hadn't really discussed it. "I don't 'know him', know him, I know his first name because he is Guzzarella's bodyguard and he was with him every time I saw Guzzarella," I explained.

Bobby continued, "We're upping the team to two at a time," he said, his eyes firmly on his coffee. I could tell he was trying to prepare himself for an argument from me.

I took a deep breath. "Can you just tell me the whole story, Bobby? There's more, isn't there?"

Now Bobby looked pained and put his coffee down and looked at me. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm not supposed to tell you this."

I tried to keep calm and opened my mouth to tell him what I thought of that order because I knew it had come from Ranger, but he held up his hand to stop me. "So all I'm asking is that you didn't hear it from me, okay?"

"Okay," I said automatically and wondered if I really wanted to know. Of course now I had to know.

I was angry at Ranger for issuing the order, but I was hurt, too. We had agreed months ago that we would tell each other stuff like this and he had promised not to make decisions about my safety without discussing it for me. It had taken me a while to convince Ranger that just because he makes decisions that benefit me he doesn't have to at least tell me about them. So much for his promise.

Bobby took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. He was leaning against the counter a lot like Ranger had the day before. "DalBo is working mainly with Guzzarella, but he's not a bodyguard."

I fidgeted with my cup as I waited impatiently for him to continue, biting my tongue so I wouldn't tell him to 'spit it out already'.

Bobby looked at the ceiling, obviously trying to find the right words. "Tank had us run the checks on both him and Guzzarella and they're now on 24 hour surveillance. If they even attempt to come near you, we'll stop them."

I hadn't expected that. It made sense, probably I should still take Guzzarella seriously, but a lot of my fear was gone after I had found the guts to take him out. I'd gone with denial and had decided he was out of my life now. Tank was right, I had odd priorities sometimes.

"Do you think Guzzarella spray-painted my car?" I asked incredulously, grinning and almost laughing out loud at the mental image of the suit-clad Mafioso with a spray can.

"It's possible," Bobby simply said. I waved him off. The destroyed car hadn't so much scared me as annoyed me.

"It could have been a first warning," Bobby shrugged. "But what's more important is that we think DalBo could be behind it."

"Yes," I agreed, "Doing Guzzarella's dirty work."

Bobby blew out some air. "It's not that simple, Steph. DalBo is a guest of the Garibaldi family. He's a…" he circled his hand in the air trying to get the right word, "Apprentice, I guess fits."

"So he's a mobster in training?" I asked. I still didn't see how that made him dangerous. I'd never thought about it much, but they had to start out at some point, didn't they? Eric had looked like he'd been 'around the block', in his thirties I'd guessed, but hey, what did I know.

Bobby shook his head. "Maybe apprentice wasn't a good word. DalBo is German, he's here to learn the business. Apparently his father and Hammer go way back…"

He waved behind him to indicate a long stretch of time, then he looked at me but didn't say anymore and his words sank in.

"So Eric is not so much a bodyguard as an equal?" I guessed.

Bobby sighed impatiently and pushed himself off the counter to face me. "Maybe I'm not explaining it right. To make it as simple as possible: You pissed off a German mob boss by having his son arrested."

My eyebrows shot up. "I what? How would Eric's father know…oh, I guess it wasn't hard to find out, huh?" I felt my stomach clench. I didn't know about the German mafia, but I had a feeling they had similar ways of getting even as the Family here.

Bobby smiled in the 'now she's got it' way and nodded. "Hence the surveillance and your bodyguards." He winked at the last word but didn't seem to relax. Probably he was bracing himself for the argument that usually followed when the Merry Men were assigned to watch over me.

I nodded. Had Ranger really thought I would turn down protection? True, I had in the past argued the point, but I'd never been in danger of Mafia revenge either. Did he think I liked living on the edge, not knowing who was lurking in my apartment when I got home? Maybe he hadn't cared enough to fill me in?

I knew how RangeMan surveillance worked, I'd done it a few times since I started working there. They would find out what Guzzarella and DalBo were up to by talking to everybody they saw the two talking with. If I was lucky, my name would never be mentioned and I could relax.

But when had I ever been lucky?

"Okay," I finally said and Bobby looked surprised. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head slightly and smiled. "You never fail to surprise me. I'm sure the guys have a bet going how beat up I'm gonna get and all you say is 'okay'."

I just grimaced and rinsed my cup. The cops at TPD had always had a pot, betting on when my car would blow up or when I'd deliver an FTA covered in garbage…and at least ten of them had always called Morelli when they heard any of those things had happened to me.

Apparently today was Memory Lane day, and none of the memories were happy. I sighed and brushed past Bobby to retrieve my shoulder bag from the bedroom.

I had to change the topic and get out of the house. My apartment was too depressing at the moment. There were Morelli's keys in the bedroom and the vivid memory of the fight with Ranger in the kitchen.

"Are you still my driver?" I asked Bobby, hoping he'd say no, they'd follow me, but he nodded. "Yup, and we're getting an escort," he grinned. I rolled my eyes and clicked on Bob's leash.

Sure enough, when we got to Bobby's black Explorer, Junior pulled up behind him. I sent him a finger wave and climbed into the passenger seat.

"This is gonna be fun," I predicted. Bobby started the car and looked over at me.

"Why, what are we doing?" He grinned. "Where to, Milady?"

I playfully slapped his shoulder. "The bonds office. We're chasing skips." And with Bobby and Junior in tow I actually had a good chance of catching them, too.

Bobby grinned and maneuvered the SUV out of my parking lot.

This wasn't so bad, I thought. I'd still get to be around the Merry Men and wouldn't risk running into Ranger. And as an added bonus, I'd make some money.

Mostly, I needed time to think. Should I come up with what to tell Ranger, telling him the truth? Or should I keep quiet and let him assume this little game Tank and I were playing wasn't just a game? I had a feeling my decision could either save our relationship or break it forever. No pressure though.

So first, I needed some time and distance. If I tried real hard, I would be able to pretend Bobby and I were a team, out collecting FTA's.

I might even manage to convince myself I wasn't scared of Guzzarella or any of his colleagues, (who'd ever heard of the German mob anyway?), because denial was always easier for me than fear.

And if that didn't work, I could still be angry at Ranger for once again just issuing orders instead of checking with me. Okay, I would have agreed if he had asked me, but that wasn't the point.

And maybe, just maybe, time would heal some superficial wounds here.

TBC

A/N: OK, I saw some of your comments…what do you think should happen between Tank and Steph and should they stick to the game plan or 'improvise'?? Please let me know what you think, your reviews are the inspiration I need to write.