Brave Wind

Ranger...

Silently she whispers his name. Her body shivers. Her heart aches. She hasn't seen him in a too long while, and now all of a sudden she misses him like Hell. She wonders if he's in Syria fighting side by side with the rebels against Assad. She prays he is safe. She wishes she knows when he will be back. She longs for the feel of his body. She misses the touch of his lips. She wakes up remembering the mornings she woke up in his arms. She recalls the nights they lay tangled in each other before falling asleep. She will always remember the beautiful intensity of his deep, almost black eyes. She will always remember his soft husky voice in her ear. Till the day she dies. Till her tears run dry. But will she ever have the courage to be completely honest with him? She feels like laughing at herself. Her stupid, old self. Her dim-witted and cowardly self that was so used to lies, excuses and denials. Maybe she should go have a shower. She slowly sits up and sighs another sigh. The weather is too stuffy. Her face is a mess. Just like her life.

She turns on the water and lets it run down her face. Too bad it can't wash away all her woes and sorrows. Maybe a new shower head will help lighten up her mood. But it will have to wait. She needs the money for food, gas, shoes and rent. And she has just replaced her locks and security chain not long ago...1908 hours ago. 79.5 days ago. The day after the very last time she had sex with Joe, to be exact. And that night's event gave a brand new meaning to break-up sex: the sexual activity that leads to a final break up between 2 unhappy friends with benefits. You can't be referred to as lovers when, in fact, there's no real love involved, she dries herself with a towel and again insists.

She had been trying to slowly drift away from Joe ever since her sudden realization. She let him hook his finger into her collar and peek at her breasts. She let him wrap his arm around her waist. She let him "kiss" her lips. She stepped back to break the contact after 8 to 10 seconds. She always had other plans when he suggested pizza, beer, ball game and sex. She's never good at confrontation and has problem expressing her true feelings. Because she, just like her mother and sister, is afraid to upset and always willing to please. Shirley, her whiner of a cousin, never ever stops whining about anything and everything, but she does make her feelings extremely clear, on the other hand. Now Shirley is happily living with Eddie and their kids, while both she and Val are still struggling to cope with their lives. And they used to roll their eyes and snort when they thought about Shirley and her ridiculous nickname.

She puts on the clean clothes, shakes her head at herself in disgust, and start blow-drying her hair. And then that night Joe came and let himself in. She was already fast asleep. He got undressed and climbed into bed. And it was too late when she finally jerked awake. She blinked. She gasped. She pushed and shoved at the weight on top of her. Her fingers felt hair. She recognized the familiar mixture of cologne, garlic and sweat. She felt shocked and ashamed at her body's betrayal. She sensed his smile in the dim darkness. She became anger. She was enraged. Tears did not flow down her face. Her voice didn't crack. She knew everything had come to an end.

"Get out." She calmly—if not coldly—said. "We are done"

"Cupcake?" His smile faltered as he frowned in confusion, "Steph?"

"Get out, Joe." She said again, no longer feeling like slapping him across the face with all her strength. "It's over between us. Now get out. And don't come back."

"Oh, come on," He laughed. "You know you enjoyed it too."

She turned on the bedside light and got out of bed. She picked up his jeans, threw them at him, and pointed his gun at him. Her little tank top was still there. But she was not wearing her panties. "Get out. Now."

Something in her flat emotionless voice registered in his brain. He realizes his mistake. He didn't understand her fury and contempt. He became angry, felt humiliated, and left. Without leaving her keys or a backward glance. She went for another shower. She scrubbed herself clean. She made herself coffee. She didn't add sugar and cream. She drank the hot liquid. She felt hungry. She couldn't eat anything. She felt cheap. She felt easy. She felt sad. She felt relieved. She thought of all the time she had wasted. She didn't shed a tear. She was glad of it.

And she changed the locks and security chain the very next day.

She exhales a long breath. She can hear Rex running in his hamster wheel. She stops thinking about Joe Morelli and his boiling anger. It's no longer her business. She goes into the living room and turns on the TV. She watches the international news in silence. She thinks of Ranger. She wonders if she will ever be brave and smart enough to decipher the conflicting and confusing messages he gave her over the years. He's not exactly family material. He doesn't do relationship. His love doesn't come with a ring. He loves her in his own way. He doesn't share. There's no price for what they gave each other. And once she's in the Batcave, it's forever. She closes her eyes and thinks of the things he wants and doesn't want in life. Porsches, Mercedes, BMWs, badass trucks, and fine red wine. The unspoken words in his amused, serene gaze.

She was dreaming about Ranger that night. They were together in his heavenly king-size bed. Naked. The shock and disappointment she felt. The hurt and pain she experienced. The gaping hollow in her heart when she looked up and saw Morelli's grin. Why the freaking Hell is her life so complicated? She holds her head in her hands. She knows she'll probably start crying any minute. She widens her eyes and almost sprains her neck as she turns to look at her front door.

"Deep thoughts, babe?"