A loud crash brought me instantly out of a deep and dreamless sleep. I bolted up in bed and reached for my night stand. I don't know why; my gun is in the cookie jar on the kitchen counter.

My heart was beating a crazy rhythm and when my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed the light in my bathroom was on. I listened hard for anymore sounds and then heard a very familiar voice muttering in what might have been Spanish.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost one in the morning and Ranger was in my bathroom.

I crawled out of bed and went to the door that was partially closed. I pushed it open and then covered my mouth to keep from screaming.

He was standing in front of my sink and he was coated with blood.

With the initial shock gone, I rushed to his side. "Omigod! What happened?"

"Sorry," he said, "I was trying not to wake you but I knocked over your make-up thing."

I'd seen my eye make-up scattered all over the floor and assumed that was what made the loud crashing noise, but I didn't really give a shit. All I cared about was the bleeding man standing in front of me.

"That's not important," I said. "This is a lot of blood; why didn't you go to the hospital?"

"You were closer," he told me. "And it's just a flesh wound."

"Right. A flesh wound. Apparently you haven't seen the puddle of blood gathering on my tile floor."

We both looked down at the blood pooling on the tile and at the steady stream flowing down his arm and dripping off the end of his fingers. "I just need to get a bandage on it and it'll be fine. Will you help me get this shirt off?"

"I think you need a hospital, Ranger." It really was a lot of blood.

"No," he shook his head. "I'll be fine."

I could argue with him some more, but it would be pointless. He would refuse to go and it's not like I could force him. Even an injured Ranger could easily over power me.

I refrained from rolling my eyes but a small sigh escaped my lips when I turned away from him to retrieve the first aid kit from under my sink. I grabbed some towels while I was there and then turned back to get started.

"Sit," I commanded, pointing to the toilet.

He looked like he was thinking about smiling but he did as I said and sat down.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" I asked as I opened the first aid kit and retrieved the scissors nestled inside. I began cutting his shirt and he lifted his eyebrows. "This thing is a lost cause anyway," I told him. When I got to the last bit around his collar, I had the thought that some of the blood on the shirt might not be his. It made me a lump form in my throat and I wondered if anyone else was hurt. I knew Vince was on the team that went out for the high bond skip they were supposed to pick up.

"Well?" I said still waiting for the story. I spread the shirt open and removed it from the arm that didn't seem to be hurt.

"I didn't get out of the way of the flying bullet fast enough." Ranger Humor.

"This is a bullet wound? What went wrong?" I reached behind him and dragged the cut shirt across his back so I could start getting it off his other arm.

"Capture got a little out of control." He winced when I moved his arm to tug the shirt loose so I just cut the part around his wound away too.

"Sorry," I murmured and finally got the whole thing off of him. I balled it up and threw it in the trash can beside the toilet. "Just a little out of control? I'd hate to see what a lot out of control looks like." I tried to inspect the injury, but there was too much blood. It looked like the bullet had passed all the way through the meaty part of his shoulder. "Anyone else hurt?" I asked in what I liked to think was a casual voice.

"Ram took one in the leg, but it was just a scratch."

I raised an eyebrow. Obviously my idea of a scratch and Rangers were not exactly in synch. "Well, I hope after all this trouble, you got your man."

"Yes….and no. He's dead. He really didn't get out of the way fast enough."

I ran the water in the sink until it was hot and then soaked one of the towels with it. I started cleaning the blood so I could see what we were dealing with. "Lot of paper work when they die," I commented.

That got him to smile. "Tank's handling it."

"I bet he's thrilled," I said. I managed to get all the blood off his arm and took a good look at the bullet wound. It had sliced clean through but it was pretty deep. "I think this needs stitches."

Ranger took a look and prodded it with a finger. "No, it's not that deep. Are there butterfly Band-Aid's in your kit?"

I couldn't contain the eye roll that time. "Stupid, stubborn, idiots boys," I muttered under my breath as I dug around in the kit.

"I heard that," he said.

I rolled my eyes again and came up with a package of butterfly strips, alcohol wipes, some gauze and medical tape. I cleaned it as best as I could with the wipes and managed to get it to stay closed with the butterfly strips. I slathered on some Neosporin I found in my medicine cabinet, covered the whole thing with a couple of gauze pads and taped them on.

"See, good as new," he said and grinned at me.

"Will you please have someone look at it tomorrow?" I asked. "It could get infected."

"If it will make you happy, I'll have Bobby take a look," he said.

"Why Bobby?"

"He's a trained EMT, babe."

"Oh. I didn't know. Where was he tonight?"

"It's his night off."

"Are you promising you'll have him check it out?" I knew Ranger would never break a promise he made to me.

I think he almost rolled his eyes. "Yes, I promise."

"Good." I nodded at my little victory, tossed the bloody towel into my bathtub and soaked another one with hot water. Ranger had blood everywhere and I wanted to get the rest of him cleaned up.

I started with his chest and tried not to drool as I swiped the towel over the wide expanse of muscles. Ranger without a shirt on is a sight you don't want to miss, even if he's covered with blood. His nipples harden when the towel scraped over them and I had to bite my tongue to keep from licking one. I concentrated on getting him clean which was even more difficult when I got to his abs. Ranger's abs are a work of art. Men would kill for abs like that and women tend to walk into walls at the sight of them.

I blew out a breath when I was finished, pretty proud that I hadn't attacked him, and made the mistake of looking down at his face. There was some blood smeared on his cheek and across his forehead but all I could see was the dark liquid pools of his fiery brown eyes. They were burning hot with an intensity I hadn't seen in a very long time. My heart gave a little lurch.

I slowly wiped the blood from his forehead and then his cheek and his eyes never left mine. I felt like he was trying to see right into my soul. I dumped the second towel into the tub and then before I could stop them, my hands were in his hair, removing the elastic band that held it back off his face. When it was loose, I ran my hands through either side, relishing the thick silky stands as they flowed through my fingers.

Something almost like a growl sounded low in his throat and then his uninjured arm was around my waist and pulling me to him. I was standing between his legs and he hugged me tightly to his body, the side of his head pressed into my abdomen.

I kept one hand in his hair and the other one was on the back of his neck, cradling him to me. I felt tears beginning to gather in the back of my eyes. I didn't realize until that moment how much I had missed his touch.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, holding each other, but finally he pulled away and whatever spell that had been cast over us was broken.

He cleared his throat as I eased my hand out of his hair and asked me if I had any Advil.

"In the kitchen," I said, surprised to find my voice working.

He followed me out of the bathroom and I retrieved the pills from my kitchen cupboard. I shook out four into his waiting hand and was reaching for a glass to get him some water when I heard my freezer open.

When I turned to find out what he was doing I saw him toss the Advil in his throat and then wash them down with the vodka I always kept in the freezer. He swallowed three long pulls and then screwed the cap on and put the bottle back.

I could feel my eyebrows nearly touching my hairline. "What about all that 'the body is a temple' crap?"

He graced me with a full smile. "Temple is a little battered tonight, babe." He brushed past me and headed for the living room; I followed in his wake.

"Are you staying?" I asked as he settled into the couch.

"Would you mind?"

"No, of course not. I can't kick an injured man out in the middle of the night, what would the neighbors say?" I sat down in the chair across from him.

"Hah hah," he said and leaned his head back. "Would Vince mind?" he asked after a minute.

Shit. I had completely forgotten about Vince. "Would Vince mind what?"

"If I stay tonight."

"Why would he?"

Ranger was quiet for a beat. "I would mind, if I were Vince."

I blew out a breath. Vince probably would mind. "I'm not talking to you about Vince, Ranger."

He laughed lightly and then stretched out on the couch, his feet hanging over the edge. "Vodka's doing its job. I'm gonna crash."

"No," I said standing up and crossing to him. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch. You don't even fit. C'mon," I said, grabbing on to his hand and tugging up.

"You don't have to tell me twice," he said struggling to his feet. I pulled him to the bedroom and he fell onto his back on my bed, swinging his legs up as he went. "Thanks for patching me up, Steph," he murmured. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow and I stood there watching him.

This was the second time in a month he'd shown up at my place in the middle of the night and I'd seen him more in the past four weeks than I had in nearly a year. It's probably a coincidence that he started coming around again after I started dating Vince, right?

About a week ago after a distraction I helped with, I casually mentioned that he seemed to be around more and that I was glad he'd stopped avoiding me. I was hoping to get some sort of reaction but I should have known better. This is Ranger we're talking about. He just did that almost smile thing, kissed me on the forehead and disappeared into the night like a ninja.

I took one last look and him, let out a sigh and pulled off his boots and socks. I covered him with a blanket, gathered my pillow and another blanket and headed to the living room.

"Where you goin', babe?" I heard him say sleepily when I hit the doorway.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch," I told him. "Good night."

"Babe, wait. Stay with me – please?"

Shit. I could never say no when he used the p word.

"Ranger…."

"Please?"

Two pleases. Damn him. I shuffled back to the bed and crawled in beside him. I settled in on my back, pulled the blanket over me and shut my eyes. I was just about asleep when Ranger grabbed my hand and linked our fingers together.

"He's in love with you, you know" he said softly.

"What?"

"Vince – he's in love with you."

"That's ridiculous," I scoffed. "We've only been on four dates."

"With you, it only takes one."

I felt my heart stop beating in my chest. Was that Ranger talking or the vodka? I asked what he meant but he had fallen asleep.

Or he was doing a really good job of pretending to sleep.

When my alarm went off at eight the next morning, I was alone.