Can I Check You Out?

by Robot Zombie Pineapples

After a phone call from a contact at the FBI, Ranger mobilises a team to investigate a crime of the cyber variety, necessitating undercover work at the local public library in order to catch the culprit. Set in the same universe as All I Know So Far and The Daily Grind, but can be read as a stand alone. Definitely a Babe, with a Lester/Bobby pairing in the background. One shot.

Can I Check You Out?

I hung up the phone and immediately logged into my email to retrieve the information packet that had just been sent through, skimming it briefly. It was all there, exactly as Wong had said, all the information I needed to see the job through. I would, of course, be running my own investigation first to verify the facts that had been provided. I wasn't some fresh idiot they could pull one over on.

I hit print on the file and stood from my desk, taking a moment to stretch before exiting the office. As I passed the two other offices in the short hall, I rapt my knuckles on the doors, calling out for them to meet me in conference two in five minutes. I then continued across the control room, doing a cursory sweep of the area to check for anything amiss, and entered the infirmary on the others side.

"I assume this was you?" Brown said, holding out the printing I'd sent as he met me at the doorway to his inner office.

I nodded and accepted the papers. This wasn't the first time I'd printed to the printer in Bobby's office when I needed to summon him to a meeting. Sure, it would have been easier to call him than to walk across the length of the building to see him in person, but that would leave me staring at the printer in my own office while I waited for it to finish, and at times like these I much preferred to be in motion.

"Conference two?" Bobby asked, returning to his desk to retrieve his laptop and an insulated water bottle that had been sitting next to it.

Nodding again, I turned on my heel and walked out, thankful yet again that my core team needed so few words to be moved to action. Now I just needed to make two phone calls and I'd be ready for the meeting. Hector was first, lasting less time than my interaction with Bobby; only long enough for me to summon him to the meeting before I hung up and took a deep breath.

Dialling again, I pressed the phone to my ear as I entered the break room to grab a bottle of water. It rang three, four, five times and I was preparing to be greeted by the voicemail message when the line finally connected.

"Carlos?" Steph said, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Babe?" I replied, infusing warmth into my town that in no way made up for what I was about to tell her.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Apparently, I'd used this trick before, and she wasn't fooled by it.

"I'm not gonna make it to dinner," I said, seeing no point in beating around the bush when she was already worried. "Something came up. A job for an old friend. It's important."

There was a moment's hesitation before she spoke again, worry seeping into her tone even more. "Is everything okay? Do you need to - you're not-"

I cut her off before she could find the end of her question. "My contract ended eight months ago," I reminded her. "I'm not going into the wind. This is a favour for a friend that I owe. The whole thing can be managed right here in Trenton, but I need to get a jump on it tonight."

"Okay," she said, calmer now that I'd reassured her I wasn't going anywhere. "It's probably just as well," she added. "I've just treated myself to an impromptu mud facial for my entire body while chasing Angus Fernway through a dog park and I think there's more than just mud in my hair."

Her SUV would need a thorough cleaning, I realised, suppressing a groan at the thought of the smell, but ultimately, my concern was for my fiancée, not the company vehicles. "Any injuries?" I asked.

"Aside from the hair fatality?" she clarified. "My wrist is a little sore. I'll get Bobby to look at it after I've managed to shower this shit off."

Nodding as I entered the conference room to find the men assembled and ready, I told Steph, "I'll cancel the reservation and tell Bobby to expect your call. Do you want me to get Ella to send dinner up?"

Bobby's attention zeroed in on me when I mentioned his name, his lips parting to ask if Steph was alright, but I waved him off as Steph assured me she could just throw together a sandwich or grab something from the breakroom. I agreed and told her to call if she needed anything then hung up, holding up a hand to stop the questions balancing on the tips of the men's tongues while I shot off a text to Ella.

Cancel dinner res plz. Have work and Steph had a rough day.
Dessert?

Her reply of Leave it with me came through almost immediately and I tucked the phone back into my pocket, lowering my hand to allow the men to speak.

"Is Bomber all right?" Bobby was first cab off the rank as expected. "What happened?"

"She took a tumble into a mud puddle at the dog park," I relayed. "Hurt her wrist. She'll call you to check it out once she's showered."

He nodded, but asked no further questions, likely understanding that I had no further information to offer on the topic since it had been all of three minutes since he last saw me at his office, and Steph's new injury definitely wasn't the reason I'd called them all here.

"What have you got for us?" Tank asked, holding out a hand for the papers tucked under my laptop.

I handed them to him as I started explaining the situation. "I just got a call from our friend Jaden Wong at the FBI," I said, and was intending to move forward with the details of the conversation I'd had without pause for discussion at this early point, but apparently my cousin was in a chatty mood.

"How is old Wongles?" he asked, a sly grin hooking one side of his mouth as he leaned his elbows on the table. "Has he figured out how you managed to evade him on the Kringle case yet?"

I sent Lester a shut-the-fuck-up look, matching the expressions on both Bobby and Tank's faces. "It didn't come up," I said flatly. "He was more interested in calling in the favour I owed him from the time he pulled some strings to bail your ass out of the fire." I raised an eyebrow at him, and his expression immediately sobered. As much as I loved having people indebted to me so that I could call in favours when I needed help from above, everyone in this room knew I hated owing others in return. And Jaden Wong had been holding on to this particular pay stub for a long time. While I was annoyed at Lester for causing the situation, I was also relieved to be able to cross it off the list.

"He's been investigating a series of apparent glitches with some banking apps," I explained, setting my items on the table, and gesturing to Hector to pull up the visuals I'd sent him on the projector. "The glitches have been occurring across the country for a few months now, but only came onto their radar a week ago when the director's wife got hit." I paused to allow the collective hissed in breath. "Each attack is localised to a specific area for a week or two, stopping for a few days, and then picking up in another location elsewhere in the country to repeat the cycle."

"Let me guess," Tank said, looking up from the packet to view the screen for the first time. "Trenton is the latest town to be hit?"

I clicked my fingers and pointed at him by way of confirmation as Hector zoomed in on the map, showing a dot over Trenton.

"According to Wong, they've been able to determine with reasonable certainty that the attacks are being instigated by a person in real time, not by some automated computer code."

"What makes them so sure?" Bobby asked.

"They've been able to track the source of the hacks to a number of public terminals at local libraries and victims are limited to people who have been within a five-mile radius of said library at the time of the 'glitch'. Only a handful a day, at random times, all within library opening hours."

Lester had his eyes narrowed, looking from me to Hector while making grabby motions for Tank to hand over the papers. I should have printed multiple copies, but I'd been too focused on checking in with Steph. Rookie error.

"A skilled hacker could replicate all these conditions remotely, though," Lester pointed out. "They can remote into a machine and set the code to run at certain times of day, only grabbing a handful of devices to glitch at a time."

Tank shook his head, handing over the packet and crossing his arms over his chest. "How would they manage only targeting people within such a small area? Doesn't that usually require a specific piece of equipment to detect devices in the area?"

My cousin let out a sound of frustration, gripping the edges of the papers tight enough to crumple them. "I don't know, satellites? Cell towers? I'm not an expert on this stuff. Ask Hector."

All gazes turned to our tech guru, the man I'd recruited from the gang life for his skills with a computer. This kind of thing was right up his alley, hence why I'd called him in. He inclined his head briefly, a twinkle in his eyes when he straightened again. "It's true," he confirmed in heavily accented English. "Lester is terrible at this stuff."

Snorts of laughter filled the room until Hector changed what he was projecting on the screen and started talking, explaining the evidence the FBI had already found that supported their theories. He had to double back several times to answer questions we had about the technical side of things that he'd skipped over assuming we knew what he meant, but when he was done, everyone was silent for a moment until Bobby's phone rang.

"It's Steph," he announced, standing to leave as he swiped to accept the call.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, Tank hit me with the question I'd been waiting for. "What's the plan?"

"Verify the facts provided," I said, gesturing to the papers now strewn across the table. "See what else we can dig up. Contact the libraries that have been used and see if we can get access to the security footage for the times when the attacks occurred."

"I can get access to the footage," Hector assured me, hands poised over the keyboard and shoulders tipped in that way he has when he's ready to do something illegal for me. "No problem."

I shook my head once, firmly. "Not necessary," I told him. "Santos, you'll contact the most recent locations as soon as they open in the morning and if they refuse, contact Wong. The Bureau has assured us that we'll have access to anything we need."

Hector's shoulders slumped, but on a job like this, working so closely with the feds, it was best to keep him off their radar. I was sure he had security on his computer and in his lab downstairs that went a long way towards hiding some of the less than legal methods I knew he employed from time to time, but I wasn't about to have him risk his freedom and my company on this job. And I'd only just gotten my name crossed out of Wong's little book of favours owing, I didn't want to have it written back in so soon.

"If Wongle can get us the footage in a snap, why are we bothering to contact the libraries directly?" Lester asked, his fingers tapping a rapid tattoo against the arm of his chair.

Thankfully, Tank saved me from answering and reminding my idiot cousin of all the times he'd personally been victimised by trusting the feds. "Because if we get it from Wong, we can't be sure they haven't tampered with it before handing it over," Tank pointed out. "Where is your brain tonight, Santos?"

His tone suggested that Lester had far more brain cells on holiday than was usual for him. And I had to agree. It wasn't like Lester to forget all the ways we'd been wronged by the government during our indenture. And now that I thought about it, he'd been unsettled the whole meeting. Yes, he was prone to fidgeting and leg jiggling on any ordinary day, but tonight it was more prevalent.

I made a mental note to check in with him after the meeting. Not only was it part of my responsibility as his boss and employer to ensure he was fit to continue work, but as his friend and cousin, I'd vowed long ago to Lester, myself and both our families to always look out for him. If he was dealing with something I could help with, I would. I had to.

I finished detailing our initial steps to gather all the information we needed, which included contacting the banks whose apps had been 'glitching,' and dismissed everyone to reconvene in the morning once we knew more. Tank left promptly, muttering something about feeding schedules, Hector following hot on his heels with an excited glint in his eye that I hadn't seen in a while. Likely, he was off to go start pulling together information from all corners of the internet to verify the packet we'd been provided.

But as Lester moved to follow them out, I held out a hand to block his exit.

"Ric?" he questioned, meeting my gaze, and recognising instantly that whatever had caused me to stop him, I was doing so as his friend and family first and foremost. It was a distinction that only those closest to me were able to make on sight alone.

"You're off," I told him, not bothering to beat around the bush. I may be acting from the heart, as Steph would call it, but that didn't mean I had to waste words. Especially not with my cousin. If I started sprouting whole paragraphs of concern, he'd hit reverse and insist on finding out what was wrong with me. "What's going on?"

He took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly, averting his gaze to his phone as he pulled it from his pocket, tapping at it a few times before looking up at me again. Or, down at me I guess since he was a couple inches taller. "I did a thing," he said, glancing at the phone again. "You, you can't tell Bobby. He… I…"

"Dios, Lester, what have you done?" I demanded, feeling a headache coming on at the very thought of what he was implying. "I won't sit by and let you ruin the best relationship you've ever had. Whatever it is, tell me and we'll fix it."

"What?" he gasped. His eyes were wide as saucers, head bobbing from me to the phone and back. "I didn't - I wouldn't - Hell!" Finally giving up on trying to explain verbally what he apparently didn't or wouldn't do, he thrusted the phone at me instead.

Recognising that the frantic energy wasn't going to be solved by forcing him to talk, I took the device and my face immediately split into what Steph would call my two-hundred-watt grin. "Good for you!" I praised, pinch-zooming to get a better look at the ring. According to the description beside the image, it was made of black gold with nine emeralds set in a thin channel down the centre. It was simple, and masculine, and absolutely something I could see Bobby wearing. "When are you planning to-"

I cut myself off, handing the phone back abruptly as footsteps drew near in the hall outside, and a good thing I did, because in the next moment, Bobby and Steph were peering at us from the doorway. "I take it we're done here?" Bobby asked, gesturing to the otherwise empty conference room.

"I was just giving Santos some last instructions," I lied, holding out my arm to invite Steph into my embrace. "How's the wrist?"

"Not broken," she confirmed as she wrapped her good arm around me, holding up her other to show the brace on it. "But it could be sprained."

"We'll confirm with an x-ray in the morning," Bobby added even as he was distracted by his boyfriend, eyeing Lester with concern as he hastily shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Everything okay, Les?" he asked, reaching out a hand to draw him closer. "You've been fidgety all evening. Are you hiding something?"

"No," Lester said automatically, but then panicked and changed his mind. "Yes. I - Ric was - And…"

"Santos," I intoned, but not to warn him not to bring me into his lie. On the contrary, I was determined to help him out. I tilted my head, pointedly, toward Steph, sending him my best attempt at the ESP messages she always insisted we used and was rewarded when he swallowed hard and nodded.

"Right," Lester muttered. "Um. Sorry. Top secret wedding business. Ric asked for my opinion on a thing earlier and I was about to give it when you pair turned up."

"A thing, huh?" Steph asked, looking from me to Lester and back. "What kind of thing, Carlos?" She leaned her chin on my chest, staring up at me with big, expectant eyes, and I couldn't wait to get her upstairs and see her reaction to the news Lester had just revealed to me. But until then, I had to play along for my cousin's sake.

"A top-secret thing," I replied. "Like Lester said. Just an idea I've been thinking about. Might not even be a thing after all, I don't know. Les didn't get a chance to give his opinion before you both interrupted." To an outsider who'd only seen the hardened personas I presented to the world at large, it might have sounded like I was rambling, but I'd been working on being a lot more verbal where my fiancée was concerned. I infused just enough of a teasing tone into my words to make her think I was saying them to get under her skin, to increase her curiosity, when really, I was just trying to give my cousin enough vague details to work with so that anything he said once he and Bobby were behind closed doors could easily be nixed later on down the track."

"Riiiiight," Steph said on an eye roll. "Well, if you're done here, let's go upstairs. Ella left me a slice of chocolate cake that I need assistance eating."

*o*

By the next afternoon all the facts had been confirmed and Woody and Cal were steadily working through the security footage Lester had managed to gain access to from four different libraries. There was a lot to sift through, though, and I wasn't keen on sitting idly by while the culprit had ample opportunity to strike again. So, I called another meeting to start phase two of our investigation.

"We're going undercover," I announced without preamble. There was no need to go over the information again when we'd yet to discover anything new. Even Hank, Ram, Junior, Vince, and Zip were already up to date thanks to Lester pulling them in to help this morning. "There are four locations we need to surveil, a team of two at each. Ram and Junior, you'll be reprising your roles from the job at the Daily Grind last year. Lester and Bobby, you'll take up similar characters at the other locations." They were some of our least conspicuous men, so they were the obvious choices to go in as patrons of the library. Each had a knack for blending into their surroundings and flying under the radar. "Then we'll need four to pose as library staff," I went on. "Zip, Vince, Hank and -"

"Please say you," Lester interrupted, that annoying twinkle in his eye as he tapped the edge of the table excitedly. "You have to! Steph is always going on about how sexy you are in your reading glasses. You owe the world at least a short stint as a sexy librarian! Think of it as a gift to your fiancée."

My first instinct was to call him to the mats for the audacity of bringing my fiancée's attraction to me into this, but I tamped it down, because bruises or limps would make him more memorable, which was the opposite of helpful on this job. Not only that, but he was also one hundred percent correct on Steph's feelings about the glasses. Personally, I found them to be a cumbersome necessity that I wish I didn't need, but it only took one look from her when I wore them to change my mind about how they made me look. Instead of a weakness, she saw them as an asset. And asset that had led to several happy endings.

The fact was, though, I had already put my name on the list of undercover library staff, purely because I needed to be doing something. And now, faced with my cousin's insistence, I had to fight back the urge to change the plan. It was a compulsion left over from growing up with him and being at constant loggerheads in our teens.

"Yes," I sighed, spearing him with a warning glare. "Lester. I need you to help Ella pull together the necessary disguises. I'll contact Wong to get him to set it up with the libraries. Tank, you're holding down the fort. The rest of you, Woody and Cal need help going through the tapes. We'll meet again at oh-seven-hundred tomorrow." I paused, glancing around the table as they all continued to sit there, waiting. "Questions?" I asked, and when they all shook their heads, I called the meeting to an end as I turned on my heel to exit the room. There was a lot to organise before tomorrow morning, not least of which was rescheduling all the wedding-related appointments I'd made for the next week.

With the wedding a month away, we were at a crucial point in finalising details. I had tux fittings, meetings with the planner, caterers, photographer, not to mention the tasks Steph had chosen to take the lead on but still needed my input for. I trusted her implicitly, but given the events in her life the last twelve months, let alone the previous thirty-odd years, her confidence had been flagging. She didn't trust herself to make the big decisions alone, partially because she was afraid of making a mistake and suffering through a lecture a la Helen Plum, even though she'd barely spoken to her mother since her parents' divorce hearing in December, and partially because she didn't want to let the burg conditioning of what a wedding should look like win over her own stylistic preferences. And the best way to do that was to have me at her side to listen and reaffirm.

I wouldn't make the decisions for her, of course. That would defeat the purpose of dividing up the tasks, but I would sit patiently with her while she worked on them, listening to her reason things out, agreeing with her, or - only where absolutely necessary - pointing out things she hadn't considered. Usually, unless I had important client meetings or takedowns scheduled, I was available to be the ear she needed any time of the day or night, but with me being undercover the next few days, my availability would be limited, and I hadn't figured out what to tell her about it yet.

"I noticed you have Vince and Zip running searches on the patrons identified as suspects in the library footage," Tank said, entering my office without knocking as he always did when he was preparing to challenge my decisions. "Why haven't you pulled Steph in on the case? You know her background searches are unrivalled."

"She has other things to focus on," I replied in a tone that usually suggested the end of a conversation, but as Tank settled his bulky frame into one of the too-small visitors chairs across from me, I could see he wasn't receiving the cue. Wilfully ignorant. A point that was made clear when he snorted, crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Really?" he questioned. "You already told me she won't make a wedding decision without you present. And she's definitely not out chasing down skips with her wrist banged up. Bobby's taken her out of the field for at least a week to be on the safe side. And do I need to remind you about the cafe job last Christmas? We had six men in that shop for days without a single lead. She traipses in off the street for a coffee and has the whole thing figured out in a matter of minutes. You can't keep hobbling these operations just because you think she's under too much pressure already."

He was right, of course. I'd gotten a full-on lecture when she'd learned that I was keeping information that wasn't classified from her purely because I didn't want to cause her undue stress. Her parents had been going through divorce hearings at the time and I didn't like the idea of her being so ensconced in the Burg just to help me and the team out.

She had pinpointed the culprit and the method almost at once, though. Her keen eye for detail surpassed that of six military-trained men.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight," I acquiesced on a sigh. "And ask her if she wants to help."

Tank nodded, a look of satisfaction settling over his features. "I think it's in your best interests," he said, patting the arms of the chair twice before hauling himself to his feet. "We all know she's gonna go stir crazy stuck on desk duty, the least you can do is give her a mystery to sink her teeth into."

And with that little pearl of wisdom, he let himself back out the way he'd come: without my permission.

Some days, I wondered if he opposed these Steph-related decisions because he was trying to protect my ass from her inevitable reaction, or to have Steph's back. I knew they'd grown to be friends over the times I'd been in the wind, entrusting him with her safety, but maybe that friendship had skewed his favour more toward her than me. Either way, I needed to start listening to him and letting Steph make her own decisions about whether she had the capacity to take part in a job she would be an asset on. Yes, I wanted to protect her at all costs, but if I wanted to make it to our wedding day and beyond, I also had to trust that she could take care of herself and know her own limits.

As it turns out, I didn't have to wait until dinner that night to broach the topic of her involvement, because fate dropped the perfect opportunity to debrief her into my lap not five minutes after Tank forced me to see the error of my ways.

I was finishing up a phone call with Wong, confirming he would liaise with the library managers to have my staff transplanted into their teams when my desk phone rang. I quickly ended the call and switched phones, noting the number for the phone stationed at the monitors as I answered.

"Yo."

"Heads up," Zero said. "Bomber just arrived, and she looks pissed."

I grunted in acknowledgement, hung up, and a minute later the distinct sound of my fiancée storming through the office reached my ears. I pushed back from the desk, ready for whatever came my way when she entered, even as I tried to think back to if I'd done anything that might be the cause of her current mood. Nothing was coming to mind.

And then she was blustering into the office, slamming the door behind her as her shoulders heaved with each ragged breath, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Babe?" I called softly when she just stood there.

Her gaze jerked up from where she was shooting daggers at the rug several feet in front of her, and she instantly burst into tears.

I was on my feet and across the floor in a heartbeat, bundling her into my arms and leading her over to the sofa. I settled her into my lap and forced her to look at me as I cupped her face. "What's wrong?" I asked, brushing away the tears on her cheeks.

"I thought I was past this part of my life," she sniffed, swiping the back of her good wrist indelicately over her eyes. She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to calm down before she continued without needing me to prompt her. Not that I could claim to be surprised by this, she was always a talker. "I went to the Tasty Pastry to get some donuts before I headed over to the bonds office to pick up Rangeman's files from Connie," she explained. "Janice had boxed them all up and handed them over, but when I went to pay my card was declined."

I blinked. "Declined?" That didn't make a lick of sense. Steph always made sure she had a bit of padding in her bank account now that she had a steady and reliable paycheck working for Rangeman. She had savings tucked away for the first time in her adult life, and always had at least a couple hundred in her checking account. And if I ever noticed it was getting low, I liked to transfer a little into her account to top it up for her. I'd checked her balance just this morning. There was no way her card should have been declined.

"Yep," she said stiffly, digging her phone out of the handbag still slung over her shoulder and tapping at it with all the fury she'd had before locking eyes on me. "When I checked my bank app, I only had five dollars left. Five dollars, Carlos! My balance hasn't been this low since… since…" She shook her head, unable to recall or perhaps articulate the period of time she was referring to, and turned the phone around. Sure enough, the balance was exactly five dollars.

My gut tightened. All the victims of the bank app 'glitch' had reported balances of exactly five dollars. Whether I liked it or not, Steph was now involved in the investigation.

"Is there a payment you forgot was coming out?" I asked. I took the phone from her and swiped through the transaction history to check.

"No," she confirmed what I was seeing. "The money just disappeared. There's no transaction to account for it. I called the bank, and they said it could be a glitch with the app. They said they're looking into it but-" Another tear leaked down her face and I swiped it away before it got too far.

"We're looking into it, too," I told her, quickly explaining the favour we were doing for the FBI and where we were up to in the investigation. "We could really use your eyes on the searches," I concluded. "But in the meantime, we should get your phone down to Hector to see if he can get any leads from it."

One way or another, we were going to find the underlying cause of this. It was personal now. No one takes away my Babe's financial freedom and gets away with it.

*o*

The door to the bedroom was still closed, and despite the fact that she would normally be awake by now, I hadn't heard any movement, so I thought my chances of making it out of the apartment without Steph seeing my get up were pretty good. All I had to do was finish the omelette Ella had brought up for breakfast and I'd be out of here with Steph none the wiser. I loved her, but if she caught sight of the costume - I had to think of it as a costume, because it was the embodiment of the character I would be playing today - there were only two options for how she'd react:

Number one, she would laugh hysterically until there were tears in her eyes.

Or, number two, she'd try to remove the clothes and have her wicked way with me.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't have a problem with the latter, but I didn't know how I felt about the possibility of her being attracted to me in the costume. I don't know what I was expecting when I unzipped the garment bag Ella had provided, but the dark wash jeans, blue check shirt, and navy tie and sweater vest wasn't it. Not to mention the accessories hanging in the little drawstring bag. The outfit itself was fine in a nerdy kind of way, just not what I would normally choose to wear. I'd made fun of kids for wearing sweater vests in high school for crying out loud. But my reading glasses were a wild card that could override any other part of my attire where Steph was concerned, so there was still a risk. And I had to meet the team downstairs in the conference room in ten minutes, which wasn't enough time for both of us to come to a satisfactory end if she did decide to start something.

I had just over a third of the omelette to go when the bedroom door opened, and Steph's sleepy feet slapped against the tiled hallway floor as she approached. A moment later, she appeared, mouth wide and eyes squinched on a yawn, arms stretched above her head so that the hem of the t-shirt she wore lifted high enough to expose her pink lace panties.

"Mmmm-ning," she mumbled, scrubbing her hands over her face as she blindly circumnavigated the kitchen island to the coffee pod machine on the counter. She tucked a pod into the top and ensured her mug was under the spout before setting it to going and turning to wrap her arms around my waist in a hug, her face pressing into the middle of my back. It lasted barely a second, her hands springing away from my body as she stepped back before I'd even managed to return the embrace.

I twisted on my stool to face her, which allowed her to travel her gaze over every inch of my attire. "Morning, Babe." I tried for nonchalance, but her brow was furrowing.

"Shhh," she said, holding up a hand to stop any further words escaping me in much the same way I used on the men. "What are you wearing?"

"My undercover disguise," I replied. And just to ensure she was getting the complete picture, I lifted my glasses and positioned them on my nose.

Her expression shifted to one of displeasure as she stepped forward again. She combed her fingers through my hair for a whole minute, disrupting the careful side part and semi-slicked sides and restyling it with a look of concentration, presumably into something that resembled my usual wash and wear style. Those nimble fingers moved on to fiddle with the arms of my glasses, her face so close to mine that I wanted to kiss the frown from her lips and brow. Instead, I settled my hands on her hips and sat very still for her.

She let out a little huff, grabbed my head and turned it to the side, both of her hands now concentrating on the one arm, and it wasn't until she started muttering under her breath that I realised what she was attempting to do.

"Let me," I tried to offer, reaching up to take over, but she growled, slapping my hands away. "Babe," I chuckled. "If I just take - "

"No," she snapped, cutting her gaze to mine. "The glasses are hot. They need to stay. But this chain is a crime against nature. What was Ella thinking?"

"I have a feeling the chain was Lester's doing," I pointed out. "I tasked him with helping Ella organise the outfits."

Finally relinquishing control of the chain, she stepped back, arms crossed over her chest as she watched me remove the glasses and slip the chain off them. "After you covered for him with the ring the other night?" she questioned, making a little gesture that I took to mean she wanted me to return the glasses to my face. "Does he have a death wish?"

"He's just trying to get a rise out of me like always," I assured her with reasonable certainty, the possibility that the chain was actually to target her also crossed my mind. As much as I didn't like it, I would have worn it if it was deemed necessary for my character. Steph, though, looked almost murderous as she'd attempted to remove it from my body. "He thrives on trying to make me look bad, remember?"

She shook her head but moved into my space again, her hands ghosting over the vest and up to link behind my neck, pressing herself against me. "I wouldn't have believed it was possible until I saw that fucking chain," she said. "The rest of it isn't half bad as far as sexy librarians go. It's got nothing on Corporate Ranger, but then nothing comes close to the same level as Corporate Ranger, and anything involving a sweater vest automatically loses ten points." Her body slid against mine in a slow, sensual motion as she leaned up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips. "I'd let you check me out any day."

I seized her around the waist, lifting and turning in one motion to deposit her on the island. "I don't have time to finish what you're trying to start, Babe," I growled even as I stepped between her legs, my hands grazing from knee to hip as I captured her lips. But God help me, I wanted to.

"You'll just have to charge me overdue fees tonight, then," she purred a moment later, slightly out of breath as she nuzzled my neck just below my ear. "But we'll have to be quiet." Her tongue lashed out briefly before she blew on the moist patch of skin she'd created, sending a shiver down my spine.

"This isn't a library, Babe," I reminded her, one hand fisting in her hair, torn between pressing her closer and dragging her away, even as I fingered the edge of her panties with the other. "We can make as much noise as we like. And just as well, because I know what kinds of sounds you make when I have you right on the edge." I dipped my fingers under the lace, finding her drenched and wanting. The meeting reminder notification on my watch buzzed, causing her to jerk in surprise as my wrist touched her inner thigh. "But I really don't have the time right now," I sighed. "The meeting is supposed to be starting."

Steph tried to tighten her grip on me, squeezing her arms around my shoulders, her legs around my waist, but this wasn't my first rodeo. I deftly extracted myself from her grasp. Her moan of disappointment turned into a whimper as I made a show of sucking her moisture from my fingers.

"I think I'll be charging you overdue fees," she said, her heavy-lidded gaze following my progress as I backed out of the kitchen.

"I look forward to it," I responded as I turned and lost sight of her, left with the taste of her on my tongue and the memory of her pink cheeks and the desire glimmering in her eyes to linger in with me through the day until I could see her again tonight.

I took the stairs down to the fifth floor and entered the conference room to a loud and lively conversation already in full swing. It didn't take long for the room to quiet down, though, especially when I stepped behind my cousin and wrapped the glasses chain around his throat, cinching it firmly, but not before his survival instincts kicked in and he wedged a hand between the chain and his flesh.

"I take it you didn't like the accessories we found for you, primo?" he asked, sounding nonchalant despite the threat to his life.

"You might have made an enemy of my fiancée with this one," I sneered, dropping the chain, and continuing to my spot at the head of the table. "She called it a crime against nature. Asked if you had a death wish."

He grinned, confirming that this had been his intended reaction all along. "I'll be sure to watch my back," he said twirling the chain around his fingers as he followed my progress around the room. "Can we assume that the reason you're late is that Steph took it upon herself to inspect your outfit for final approval?" he asked, that damn teasing sparkle in his eyes.

"Yes."

My response only encouraged him, his grin growing wider. "And how did she find it?" he asked.

"Santos, I suggest you shut your ungodly, lopsided mouth and let us start the meeting, or you'll find yourself needing a donut cushion for your month of monitor shifts," Tank barked. I couldn't have said it better myself.

*o*

The orientation process I was forced to endure when I arrived at the library was an experience to say the least. Belinda Whitney was a short and tenacious woman with cropped hair, and cat-eye glasses who dressed in such a way that I suspected she didn't have the same preoccupation with my appearance that Steph had had this morning. In fact, she gave me a quick once-over, rolled her eyes, and started rattling off fire evacuation protocols while leading me through the library, pointing out relevant extinguishers, blankets and exits. Along the way she also made note of the PC banks, what she called the stacks that I was almost 100% certain were just the rows of bookshelves, the meeting rooms and something called a makerspace that looked a bit like a kid-friendly version of Hector's lab. I took it all in with ease, including the booking procedures she'd sprouted off at about a thousand words a minute while also cataloguing exits, blind corners and other security risks for future reference.

When we'd toured the whole library, including the workroom outback and the kitchenette, she led me to the desk just off to the side of the PC bank that, according to the sign hanging above it, was the reference desk. She gestured to it and seemed to grit her teeth. "This is where you will be stationed," she said. "The man on the phone said you would need to see the computers at all times, so this is your desk. It's the reference desk though."

I gave a short nod, swallowing back on a sarcastic comment that rose in my throat, since I'd already noted the big, hard to miss sign. Maybe it was residual ire from Lester's antics, maybe it was the image still lingering in my mind of Steph sitting abandoned on the kitchen counter when I'd been forced to leave her unsatisfied this morning, or maybe it was just this woman's superior attitude, but I wasn't liking her much.

"This is the first place people go with questions," she went on, her demeanour getting more agitated by the second. "A lot of computer and printer questions, as well as Wi-Fi access, but we also get a lot of research assistance queries. I-"

I held up a hand to stop her, sensing she was about to show exactly how pissy she was to have me here by losing her cool. The way her lips pressed into a thin line at my gesture didn't give me much hope of smoothing over this working relationship, but I had to try reassuring her anyway. "You've already pointed out the handbook of instructions and troubleshooting information," I said, keeping my tone on the positive side of neutral. "If the question is not immediately solved by that information, or if a patron approaches with a more complicated query, I will direct them to you. I'm not here to do your job for you, Ms Whitney. I don't pretend to have the necessary skill set for the valuable services you provide to the community. I'm just here to find a criminal."

Her eyes narrowed, lips pursing as she seemed to weigh my words for a full minute before giving a short nod. Her hand shot out toward me, and it took all of my control not to seize it and flip her onto the floor in the millisecond it took to realise she was holding something out for me to take rather than attempting an attack.

I took the badge and pinned it to my chest, grimacing inwardly at the text that proclaimed my identity for the next few days:

Pablo
Trainee

At least it gave a decent excuse for my lack of library knowledge. I couldn't remember the last time I'd set foot inside one before today. Wasn't exactly the studious kind throughout school, and my focus had turned elsewhere once I decided to join the military.

As it turned out, I shouldn't have been worried about a lack of appropriate knowledge, because as the day wore on, I discovered that despite Belinda's insistence that there were a lot of research queries, the only questions I'd been asked were how to access the Wi-Fi, and where the restroom was. At lunch time, Lester arrived in jeans and a t-shirt advertising a basketball team I knew he neither followed nor supported and set himself up at a nearby desk with a laptop and drink from the cafe around the corner that looked like it contained half a can of whipped cream. I caught his eye only long enough to confirm he had the area under control before retreating to the workroom for a much-needed break.

I responded to a few texts, checked my email, called Tank for an update on Rangeman, ate the salad lunch Ella had sent along with me, and headed back out onto the floor to see out the rest of the day.

With how little trust Belinda had in me, I'd only been given basic computer access with a guest login, but it was enough for me to plug in Hector's special little device to turn the PC into a secure server and make some notes on the patrons coming and going and what I could see of their computer activities from my vantage point and when I did my regular roves through the area.

By the end of the day, I had a handful of potential suspects that had been using PCs at the time Hector called to let me know there had been another breach of a banking app reported by civilians located in and around the library. I stayed to help Belinda and the other staff close up the library, despite the grumbling from the former that I was just creating more work for her by getting her to explain how to do things instead of her just doing them automatically. Then it was back to Rangeman to debrief with the team.

As I pulled into the parking garage, though, my phone buzzed with a text from Steph, ordering me up to seven rather than the fifth floor, and since she so rarely made such demands of me, I was helpless to deny her. Truth be told, there was a tiny anxiety pulsing in the bottom of my stomach that something had happened to her and I was going to walk into our apartment to find her in a similar state to what Hal and the guys had described the day Frank had been shot by one of her skips and almost died. I took the stairs two at a time all the way up, and paused only a moment to breathe calm into my body before stepping forward to fob open the apartment and see what was in store for me.

As I extended my hand toward the sensor, though, the door popped open to reveal the sexiest sight I'd ever seen. My future wife, her curls plumped up and cascading around her shoulders, make-up done in a smoky, sultry way that enhanced her pouting lower lip, stood in the doorway. One elegant arm was raised, leaning against the door jamb, the other hand lingering on the handle, allowing my gaze full access to travel over her body and the lace negligee she wore.

I was instantly hard just looking at her, any and all worry slipping out the backdoor of my brain as I let a smile lift my lips, imagining all the things I was about to do to her.

"Babe," I said, my voice low and gravelly. I closed the distance between us until we were standing toe to toe but not touching. I lifted one hand, tracing my fingertips over the edge of the lace that dipped over her cleavage, following it down to the little bow in the centre and then lower. My gaze was riveted on the journey, watching her flesh break out in goosebumps as my hands slipped between the two sides of the flowing lace attached to the band below her breasts, skimming over her stomach and sides and settling on her ass. It was then that I lifted my eyes to hers once more, satisfied with the glaze that had settled over her expression as her mouth hung open just slightly, pink, and moist and lightly panting.

"What's the occasion?" I asked. My hands continued to move over her body as I leaned down to capture those lips.

"We, ah," she sighed, leaning into my touch. "We discussed overdue fees this morning," she managed to get out, her voice breathy as she struggled to retain use of her brain to answer my question. "It's time to collect."

I grinned against her neck, having worked my way along her jaw and down as she spoke. "As I recall," I said, pulling back to look her in the eye, but keeping a firm grasp on her waist so that our lower halves were still pressed together. "We were at a stalemate when I left this morning as to who would be collecting from who."

"Doesn't matter," she said quickly, shaking her head as her eyes locked on my mouth. She leaned forward then, pressing her lips to mine. Her arms wrapped around my neck, locking us in place as she lifted one bare leg, hooking it around my hip as she ground against me, almost desperate. And we hadn't even scratched the surface of everything I wanted to do to her. "So long as I get an orgasm. You would not believe how distracted I've been all day thinking about all the women who got to see you in your sexy librarian persona while I was stuck here running searches."

She kissed me again, moaning into my mouth when I lifted her up, guiding her other leg around my waist as I carried her back inside, closing the apartment door behind me and belatedly realising that we were probably giving quite the show to the guys on monitors downstairs. I'd deal with that later. Right now, my fiancée needs ravishing.

I deposited her on the bed, using her momentary distraction of being released to step back out of her reach and start toeing off the loafers I'd worn today. I had them both off and was working on unbuckling my belt when she propped herself up on her elbows, staring at me with the same lust-filled gaze she'd had since the apartment door opened.

"Vest off, glasses on," she commanded, when both sides of the belt were free of each other and I paused, my hands on the button on my jeans. I raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking if she wanted me to continue with the path I was on or follow her directions. "Glasses, Carlos," she said with even more conviction. "Now."

"Should I be concerned about this obsession with my reading glasses?" I asked, tossing off the vest as instructed and retrieving said spectacles from my pocket to slide them onto my face. "Am I not attractive enough without- "

"Shhhh," Steph shushed, cutting me off. She'd managed to rearrange herself so that she was kneeling on the edge of the bed while my head was inside the knitted fabric of the sweater, and now she was trailing a hand down her chest, stopping briefly to tweak a nipple and let out a gasp before continuing down, beckoning me closer with the other.

I obliged, eyes transfixed on the path the one hand was taking over her smooth, pale flesh until she reached the line of her panties. "Mmm," I hummed. She stopped there, fingertips extending ever so slightly to dip a fraction of an inch beneath the edge of the lace as she hooked her other hand into the waist of my jeans, whether to steady herself or pull me closer I wasn't sure.

"Touch yourself, Babe," I encouraged, when the pause in her motions lasted longer than I thought appropriate. "Show me how much you need me. How overdue is that orgasm?"

"Is that my fee?" Her voice was so low and breathy, pleasure oozing from her as she rolled her hips forward arching her back, but still not moving those fingers. Her other hand, though, walked itself up my stomach and chest, drawing my attention there and then along the length of her arm to her face. Her shining eyes so full of desire and mischief, bringing her lips into a smirk that broke into a moan as she shifted again, her lips parting in ecstasy.

I shot my gaze down to find the hand that had been poised at her panties had delved inside while I was distracted and was now working in slow, circular motions behind the lace. "Dios, Babe," I groaned. I was painfully hard now, the urge to be inside her like a beast rattling the bars of its cage. Needing movement. Needing freedom. Needing her.

I watched, transfixed, listening to the little sounds that left her throat, her breath brushed my cheek as she used her other hand to fist the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.

"Is this my overdue fee?" she whispered by my ear. "Do I have to get myself off as payment for the orgasms we've been denied?"

I was fairly sure she wasn't making sense, the librarian roleplay sliding to the side as she lost herself in the sensations that she was creating for herself. But my own thoughts were hazy with lust, and I couldn't get them clear enough to fix the scenario she'd proposed. So, I did the next best thing. I swept my arms under her, guiding her to lie back in the centre of our bed. Her hair splayed out around her like the goddess she was as she brought her feet up, planting them firmly on the bed and letting her knees drop open. I stepped back and began stripping, knowing she was getting close by the way her eyes kept drifting closed, her head turning this way and that as she tried to hold on. She was panting, the pitch of her moaning rising, her hips rolling wantonly and as I stepped out of my jeans, she went stiff, crying out my name.

In the next moment, I was poised over her on the bed, caressing her everywhere I could reach, and peppering her face and neck with kisses as she came back down to earth. "So beautiful," I murmured, stroking back the hair that had fallen in her face. "Muy hermosa when you come for me like that. My good girl."

Steph shivered at my words, somehow finding the strength to lift her arms and drag my face down to hers for a messy kiss. And when we broke apart a moment later, she panted out just two words to let me know what she wanted: "In. Now."

Who was I to disobey such a compelling command?

Two hours later, we were sated, showered, and sitting at the kitchen counter eating the meal Ella had left at the door for us when I remembered the scene she'd greeted me with and the security cameras in the foyer. "Babe, we gave the guys quite a show earlier."

She'd just closed her lips, still puffy from the amount of activity they'd endured since I arrived home, around her fork, and slid it out slowly as she shook her head side to side. "No, we didn't," she said through a full mouth.

"The cameras," I reminded her, swiping at a drizzle of sauce on her chin and licking it off my thumb. "The guys on monitor duty downstairs?" I added for good measure.

But again, she shook her head, a pretty blush rising on her cheeks. "No," she repeated. "I told Bobby to scramble the feed when you arrived home and not unscramble it until one of us told him to."

On the one hand, I was grateful for her forethought, but on the other, it meant that at the very least Lester and Bobby both had a good idea of what we've been doing the last couple hours. And likely anyone else who'd noticed the scrambled feed as well.

"Are you mad?" she asked quietly when I stayed silent a moment too long.

"Of course not," I assured her, covering her hand with my own on the table. "I love you. And I love the way you greeted me and that you thought ahead to keep our privacy. And I assume that since you involved Bobby, he's rescheduled the sitrep meeting we were supposed to have when I arrived back."

She gave me a small smile. "He said he'd have Tank send through the reports."

*o*

Day two of the undercover operation saw both me and Lester back in the library for the entire day. We'd identified a few suspects based on Hector's reports of when further bank glitches had occurred and when those persons had been in the vicinity of the library Lester and I were surveilling. None of the attacks corresponded with the other locations we had men stationed at, but that didn't mean the culprit wouldn't choose their library today.

The team examining security footage from the earlier attack locations had yet to find a connection. It was, of course, possible that this was a coordinated attack being performed by several people across the locations, so as not to be easily pinpointed by the likes of my team or, apparently, the FBI. But there should still be some visual connection between all the locations. An item, set of movements, something to show that these people were performing the same tasks. And the fact that my men hadn't been able to find it yet had me concerned. They were the best in the business.

This morning, while I was getting ready, Steph had been curled on her side on the bed, naked but for the sheet drawn up over her chest, and watching me with her usual avid interest as she detailed the lack of leads she'd found in the background searches the guys sifting through the footage and at the other libraries had requested. She shared interesting little facts about the patrons they'd identified, like the fact that one old dude had already been caught watching porn on the public access computers twice, but nothing had pointed toward the cybercrime we were tasked with investigating.

"Have you looked at any of the footage?" I asked, emerging from the closet with my vest in one hand and tie in the other.

She shook her head. "No, Tank had me assisting with payroll yesterday and I was running searches in the background." She reached up and tugged the vest from my grasp, rubbing the soft material between her fingers as I started tying my tie. "Did you want me to take a look today?"

I nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed by her hip as I tightened the knot into place. "I think a fresh set of eyes would be beneficial," I said, looking over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of the breasts she revealed when she sat up to fix the back of my collar, the sheet having drifted away to pool at her waist. "And you tend to notice things others don't."

"Like the Daily Grind case?" she asked, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind, pressing her breasts into my back and preventing me from pulling the vest over my head. "When you didn't want to involve me and I ended up dropping into it and solving it in, like, an hour?" She was making a point, obviously, but I'd already been given the lecture from multiple people.

Grabbing one of her hands, I brought it up to my lips, kissing the palm. "Exactly like that, Babe," I agreed. "And I'm man enough to admit that I was going to try to keep you out of this one as well until Tank made that exact same point and convinced me that involving you was in our best interests."

"Our best interest?" she questioned, shifting to the side so that she could look me in the eye. "Or your best interest?"

I smiled. "Babe."

She nodded, kissing me on the cheek and releasing me to flop back on the pillows. "Tank's a smart man," she reminded me.

I'd finished getting ready and left her still relaxing on the bed, reminding her to text me as soon as she found anything even remotely significant. And now, hours later, I was wishing for that message so I could focus on something other than coaching Ms Ethel Grayson through every single step of the process to reply to the email she'd received from her grandson. I was astounded at the lack of computer knowledge and skills, since even my own Abuela knew her way around technology enough to send and receive emails. But senior information literacy education was one of the major focuses for the library, so I had to endure and give at least adequate service or risk even more ire from Belinda.

I was in the middle of trying to get Ethel to understand the difference between two single clicks and a double click when I sensed Lester's presence by my shoulder.

"Can I help you?" I asked, looking up to find a cryptic expression on his face.

He hiked a thumb at something behind him. "Printer isn't working," he said. "I sent a document to print and went over and swiped my card to release it, but nothing's coming out."

I nodded. "I'll be right over," I assured him, and turned back to Ethel. Deciding to abandon the finer skills of double clicking, I checked that she had typed everything into the email that she wanted to say and helped her hit send, assuring her that if she had any more issues she shouldn't hesitate to ask. And then I retreated faster than was probably appropriate, but if I needed to hear about Ethel's single granddaughter one more time, I was liable to do something that would get me kicked out of the library, which wasn't exactly a good look for someone who was supposed to be a staff member.

Lester was leaning against the counter beside the photocopier fiddling with his phone when I approached. "I'm trying to print this picture," he said, showing me the screen with a quirk of his eyebrow. It was a grainy photo of a pale woman with dark hair, and brown eyes. That first image didn't make her out to be anything special, just another woman on the way to or from the gym with her hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head and a clean face free of make-up. "My friend sent it through, and I'd like to add it to the collage I have at home." He swiped through a few more photos, each with the woman looking almost unrecognisable from the last despite clearly being the same woman. In one she wore overalls and a tank top, her hair loose and messy, and something about her makeup altered the shape of her face. I'd seen Steph transform herself like this right before my eyes. In the next she wore a jeans skirt and what was little more than a bra, her hair still loose, but falling in neat waves, her make-up yet again altered to give a different appearance at first glance.

"Are you sure you have enough money added to your printing account?" I asked. Which translated to How sure are we that this is the woman we're looking for? But I couldn't very well come right out and say it. Not when I was fairly sure the woman in question was sitting at one of the computers right now.

He shrugged. "I added credit yesterday," he said, and I could see the cogs turning in his brain as he worked to convey the information I wanted in the coded conversation. "It's been enough to print this kind of thing a couple times before, but I suppose it has run out a couple times when I hit the wrong button and printed the wrong thing."

If I was understanding correctly, he meant that the woman had been spotted on a couple of the security feeds from previous libraries that had been used to hack into the banks, but there were more that they couldn't confirm that the same woman was there.

I nodded, thinking hard and fast about what I needed to do. "Would you like me to check your account balance?" I asked, gesturing toward the desk I'd been occupying the last couple days. "That way we can confirm if your print job has gone through."

Lester shook his head, tucking the phone away and hooking his hands into his back pockets. "Nah, that's okay. Your other librarian already checked and didn't find anything. I probably need to add more credit before it'll print."

"Sure," I agreed. "Let me know if there's anything more I can do." And with that convoluted sitrep complete, I returned to my desk. We had a solid suspect who was confirmed at some scenes, may have been at others and was definitely present yesterday during the timeframe Hector gave for the hack that occurred. Steph, and possibly Hector, were looking further into it to try to get more concrete evidence so that we could nab her and put an end to it all.

I paid a little more attention to the woman that afternoon, noting that she once again looked different to how she'd presented at the previous locations, her hair now cut with bangs and pulled into what I wanted to say was probably a 'chic' ponytail based on the knowledge I'd absorbed just from being around my sisters and Steph. It definitely wasn't a style that Steph could ever achieve with her hair as curly as it was, but I'd sat with her enough while she watched her reality tv shows to pick up on some things when she rambled about the goings-on. She wore fitted trousers in a dark plum colour, black stilettos, and a white shirt that fairly billowed around her torso and tucked in on one side at the front. I couldn't deny that she was attractive, her simple make-up and bold red lip only adding to the overall look, but she had nothing on my Babe.

She packed up her belongings, including an impressively bedazzled external hard drive that had been plugged into the computer she was using, just before four. And not fifteen minutes after she left, I received a text from Hector reporting that the hack had happened again. I confirmed the timeframe matched the time Ms Lipstick, as I'd begun to think of her, had been in the library, and then it was once again time to assist the actual library staff in closing down the library for the evening.

There was no message requesting my immediate presence in the apartment on seven when I pulled into the driveway, which was a little disappointing, but I figured with the lead she'd found, Steph was now nose deep in searches and collaborating with Hector to see if what he managed to find could help her put together a solid packet of evidence. This assumption was confirmed when I stepped off the elevator on the fifth floor and Hal pointed toward the conference rooms without me even needing to ask the question on the tip of my tongue.

When I pushed through the door to conference two, I found Steph and Hector, along with Lester, Bobby, and Tank all with laptops in front of them and serious expressions on their faces.

"Can we confirm it's her?" I asked, triggering a simultaneous snap of all heads in my direction. I just raised an eyebrow, removing my vest, undoing my tie, and taking a seat, waiting for someone to speak.

"Now that we've placed Jessica McAnalen at a couple of the locations, Cal and Woody are working on getting clear enough shots of her at the other libraries to confirm her presence," Steph said. She had one hand resting on the keyboard, the other - the one she'd injured, I noted - was curled up against her chest, like she was actively trying to avoid using it. I decided not to bring attention to it, though, my first priority being getting up to date on what we'd found out.

"I've been over her background report with a fine-tooth comb and can't find anything that would indicate she's capable of the kind of hacking we're dealing with, let alone evidence of the missing money being deposited into her bank account," Steph went on, shaking her head. She slumped back in her chair, her injured hand keeping its position against her chest as the rest of her body flopped almost bonelessly. "It makes no sense."

I nodded, cutting my eyes to Hector for his input even as I reached across the corner of the table and pulled Steph's chair closer to me so I could reach her arm, lifting it gently and laying a kiss to the wrist as my gaze drifted back to her, projecting a silent question her way. She sighed and shook her head, but didn't say anything, just allowed me to carefully twine our fingers together as Hector outlined everything he was doing to aid in the investigation. A list that included having Tank contact Wong for access to certain sites and avenues that were easy enough for him to hack into, but definitely off the legal path, which meant he was waiting for the monkeys in suits to get him the information he could have found in a matter of minutes for himself.

I thanked him for keeping everything legitimate and assured him I would allow him to use his preferred methods on the next case, provided federal agencies weren't involved, then turned to Bobby, Lester and Tank.

"Nothing more to report," Tank sighed.

"Aside from Wongles getting antsy that we're taking too long," Lester added. "Don't know where he gets off with that, since we've only had the case three days and already made better progress than he had in the time since the director's wife got hacked and the work experience kid discovered the plot."

"We need something concrete," I said definitively. "Then we can get Wong's approval for the arrest and put an end to it all."

"Get Wong's approval," Bobby repeated in a whiny, mocking tone. "This is why I hate working with the Feds. They always want to approve everything before we do it. What happens if she up and leaves between us getting the evidence and Wong giving the go ahead?"

I shrugged. "Then Wong can deal with it," I said. "If the pattern holds, she'll move to another state, and unless that state is Massachusetts or Florida, we don't have jurisdiction to do the FBI's job for them." Another glance around the table revealed tension lines and the beginning signs of exhaustion on all parties present. "Everyone take a break," I instructed. "Get some rest and come at it with a fresh head in the morning."

Nods of agreement, and everyone started packing up to leave. Tank was the first out the door, followed by Hector as Lester and Bobby lingered a moment discussing what sounded like dinner options before they too started for the door.

"Brown," I called, halting them both. "I need you to take another look at Steph's wrist."

His brow furrowed, but he nodded, coming around to stand between Steph and me. "Is it hurting more or less than when you first injured it?" he asked, lifting her hand from my grasp, and turning it this way and that, methodical and observant.

"Less," she said. "But more than this morning when you said I could take a break from the brace."

Bobby nodded again, returning the limb to the table. "It's probably just tender from overuse," he said. "Give it a couple hours in the brace this evening to rest and recover and if it's still sore in the morning let me know."

*o*

Another day passed with no further evidence found. I'd done frequent rounds of the area in an attempt to catch her in the act, stopping just short of pacing at the edge of the bank of PCs like a caged tiger, but every time I looked, she was either scrolling through Instagram or browsing an online clothing store. Nothing that would point to the fact that yet another bank hack occurred during the time she was there. Lester had used his best pick-up lines to try to flirt something out of her, but she'd barely spared him a glance. Even when I asked if she needed help, she didn't seem as impressed by my attention as most women usually were.

When she started packing up her stuff at the end of the day, I nodded at Lester for him to follow her. If we couldn't get the evidence we needed while she was in the library, perhaps we could get a lead outside of it. He nodded that he understood, and I turned my attention to the middle school boy standing awkwardly at the corner of my desk.

"Can I help you?" I asked, managing to suppress a sigh. If I'd learned one thing over the course of this investigation, it was that I was not cut out to be a librarian. So many questions, repeating myself over and over, the sheer amount of stupidity I had to deal with. It was like living through an endless government debrief. Give me a criminal to chase down the street any day. Thankfully, the boy's query was a simple one and I soon had him pointed in the direction of the graphic novel collection, but not before a tell-tale tingle crept onto the nape of my neck. With the kid gone, I straightened my spine, surveying the area.

Steph was here somewhere.

It only took a moment more to spot her, near the entrance, looking slightly on the dishevelled side in a pair of ripped jeans, her scuffed converse sneakers, a plain, loose tee and what I recognised as a light jacket from my side of the wardrobe. Her hair was frizzing and barely contained in the low ponytail, and there was not a lick of make-up on her face. She was gorgeous as ever, of course, but between the outfit choice and the set of her shoulders, I could tell she wasn't having a good day.

Whether her day would be made better or worse by the fact that she'd somehow drawn Ms McAnalen's attention remained to be seen.

As I watched, the woman intercepted Steph's flight path, garnering a look of shock from Steph as McAnalen addressed her with a hair flip. Steph seemed to stumble over her words a bit, looking past the woman, still with wide eyes. The conversation continued a beat and Steph must have spotted Lester lurking, because she made a beckoning motion with her once-more-braced hand and he appeared beside her, smoothly covering whatever Steph was about to bumble.

McAnalen smiled at Steph like she was a delicious cake to be savoured, said one last thing, and walked away with her hips swinging. Lester and Steph both turned to watch her leave and my cousin must have made a smartass comment, because Steph swung her good fist, punching him in the arm, then threw up her hands and stomped away from him. Her gaze almost immediately locked on mine, and I saw the moment some of the tension left her body, able to relax a little just knowing I was there for her.

I put up the 'Ring for Service' sign along with the bell on the desk and met her halfway, tucking her into my side and guiding her toward the staff workroom where we'd have more privacy.

"Babe?" I asked once the door swung shut behind us.

"Good news," she said, a thick layer of sarcasm covering her words as she leaned against the counter in the kitchenette area. "The bank processed a return of my missing money."

"That's gr-"

"Bad news," she cut me off before I could express the appropriate joy for the moment. "I just had my purse snatched, so now I need to cancel all my cards."

"Purse snatched?" I asked. I was fairly sure I had whiplash from the quick turnaround. "When? How? Have you called the police? Did you get a good look at them?"

She sighed heavily, but allowed me to bundle her into an embrace, running my hands over her to assure myself that she was unharmed.

"It was literally just now," she said into my chest as I continued to rub her back and arms. "I thought I'd come get a look at Jessica in person, see if I could pick up on anything that I was missing in the searches, but I had to park around the block and walk back. A kid, maybe seventeen or eighteen, was walking the other way, and then suddenly, my handbag was reefed off my shoulder. I got spun around but gave chase. But when I followed him into the alley he was gone. I'd have called the police already, except my phone was in my bag."

At that moment, the workroom door opened, and Lester stepped inside looking like he'd won the lottery. "Raise your hand if you have a date with a hot lesbian tonight," he said, grinning even wider as he eyed us both. But he didn't raise his hand. In fact, he was staring expectantly at Steph and ignoring my raised eyebrow. She was glowering back at him and after a moment he rolled his eyes good naturedly and closed the distance between us, grasping Steph's good hand and lifting it above her head. This elicited an even heavier sigh from my fiancée.

"Babe?"

"We need to pull together a team for a distraction at the Pixies' Closet tonight," she sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. "It's a gay bar."

*o*

"You should have seen it," Lester was saying as we watched Steph stride her way through the front door to the Pixies' Closet that night. "Steph walked in, and it was like whenever you both enter the same airspace, McAnalen's head snapped up and she zeroed in on her immediately. Instant attraction. And then Steph got that deer in the headlights look which McAnalen must have interpreted as 'holy shit, hot girl' and the flirt was on for young and old. It's a good thing I arrived when I did, because Steph was about to ruin the whole thing by confessing she's straight and in a relationship. Doubly good thing she has the brace on her hand and had to take the ring off, or - "

"Santos," I grit out, my fists tightening where they rested on my thighs. "Shut it."

He let out a huff, but sat back in his seat, adjusting his earpiece. "You're grumpier than usual tonight, primo," he pointed out needlessly. "You're always tense when Steph is doing a distraction, but this is a whole other level. I don't know what's got your panties in such a twist. If I had a girlfriend and she wanted to go on a date with a hot lesbian, I'd be like 'Fuck yeah! Tell me all the details!'"

I cut my eyes away from the small monitor between us where I was tracking Steph's movement through the club, to glare at my cousin. Ordinarily, on an operation like this, especially considering the location, both Lester and Bobby would be stationed inside, but since the mark had already seen Steph and Lester together, he'd been relegated to the van with me, and I was just now recalling reasons why I always assigned him internal surveillance and undercover positions where Steph was concerned: because aside from him being one of the men I trust most with her safety when I had to be running the op, if he was anywhere near me, he had a tendency to sprout whatever thoughts were circling his head during waiting periods. And more often than not, they ended up feeding my anger and frustration that I couldn't be the one holding, caressing and protecting my Babe right that second.

"So, if Bobby went on a date with a hot guy?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to get him to consider things from my point of view by likening it to his own relationship.

"Bobby doesn't need to go on dates with other guys," Lester said nonchalantly, all but rolling his eyes at me as Woody confirmed visual of both Steph and McAnalen in his vicinity where he was playing bartender for the evening. "He's already got a hot guy: me."

"If he decided to go on a date with a hot girl, then?" I said.

His blank face slammed into place. "I don't like this conversation anymore."

Satisfied that I'd made my point, I returned my attention to the screen so I'd be ready to spring into action if anything were to happen to Steph. None of the searches we'd run on McAnalen suggested she was dangerous, or even associated with anyone dangerous, but that didn't mean there wasn't potential for this all to go to hell in a handbasket if we weren't careful. These things always had a way of taking a sudden left turn when Steph was involved.

For the next two hours, we listened and watched as my future wife flirted and drank and danced with the admittedly attractive woman. When they moved to a booth at the back of the club for a break, Steph made sure to position herself on the outside, so she had an escape route, which sent a small zing of pride through my anxious heart. They'd talked a little at the beginning of the night, sharing small details about life and work to get to know each other, but nothing of a serious nature, and nothing that could be used as a springboard for getting a confession or at the very least, some more concrete evidence that this woman was the bank app glitch hacker we were after.

Now, though, Steph was obviously gearing up to find out once and for all. She started spinning a sob story about a brother with cancer and every dollar she earned going toward paying for treatments for him. If I didn't know better, I'd have been opening up my wallet to offer her a donation, she was just that good.

And then she went in with the kill shot. "And to make matters worse, there was a glitch with the bank app and all the money I'd managed to save disappeared!" Steph sounded like she was on the verge of tears, her voice thick with emotion, and I wondered how much of it was an act to draw McAnalen in, and how much of it was genuinely how she was feeling after what had been a tough week for her, what with the dog park tumble, the wrist injury, the bank glitch and now the purse snatching. I made a note to take a couple quiet days to relax with her when all this was wrapped up and focused back in on the conversation.

"Oh, Babe," McAnalen purred, and I wanted to tear her limbs from her body as I watched her grainy form on the screen reach out and pull Steph into a hug. No one calls my woman Babe but me. And how dare she try to comfort her! That should be my arms around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry."

Steph sniffed and shook her head. "It's not your fault."

"But it is," McAnalen said quietly. "I- Babe, I never meant to hurt people like you."

Steph lifted her head, and I imagined the concern shining in her eyes as she peered up at McAnalen then. "What do you mean, Sweets?" She asked, sounding confused. She placed a hand on the side of the woman's face. "You didn't cause the glitch. You can't blame yourself. It was some hacker."

McAnalen shook her head, reaching up to remove the hand and hold it securely between both of hers as she stared directly into Steph's eyes. "No, but I am," she confessed. "I've been syphoning funds from the big banks to pay for my cousin's college tuition. She's the smartest kid I know, but because of her dad's gambling addiction, she didn't stand a hope of getting the education she deserves without help, and no one would give her a loan."

Steph's gasp mirrored Lester's beside me, and I was right there with them. I couldn't believe how lucky we'd gotten here. How stupid lust could make a person that they would just openly confess illegal activities to a virtual stranger.

"Bring her in," Wong's voice sounded in my ear, and I knew from the tiny jerk of Steph's head that the message had gone through to her earpiece too. When we'd been setting the operation up this afternoon, Tank had suggested getting Wong patched into our comms for just this occasion, so he could approve a take down the second we had the confession or evidence we needed. Hector had set it up no problems by working with an FBI tech who happened to be in the Trenton area, and now I didn't have to worry about acting without permission and seeking forgiveness later.

"Everyone in position," I said into my comms, checking my own weapons as I prepared to get out of the van. "The second they're out the door, I want McAnalen in cuffs." And Steph in my arms. "Sound off."

As the men sounded off that they were ready to roll and Steph continued talking to McAnalen, getting more details about how she'd managed it, I slid from the van, Lester right behind me, and stalked toward the entrance to the bar. Tension had seized me the moment Wong gave the go ahead, because this was where things could go awry. People could be unpredictable when faced with the consequences of their actions, and more often than I liked, that unpredictability turned into Steph being hurt. I knew my men would do everything within their power to ensure Steph's safety as they moved to nab McAnalen, but that didn't lessen the anxiety twisting my gut.

The minutes ticked by as Steph worked the conversation around to an excuse for them to leave together and Bobby and Woody gave the word that they were on the move, heading for the exit. Tank and Cal braced themselves on either side of the door as Bobby gave the count down. And then the door was opening, Steph and McAnalen stepping out. Steph ducked out of the way instinctively as Tank seized the other woman, and I folded my fiancé into my arms at last.

"Proud of you, Babe," I murmured against her wild curls as she tucked herself closer.

I met Tank's gaze over her head, acknowledging his brief nod with one of my own, and started toward one of the SUVs parked down the street. Tank and the men had this under control. Right now, I needed to get some donuts or birthday cake into my Babe and take her home so she could relax.

"You're my Babe," I told Steph as I stood between the car and the door as she buckled herself into the passenger seat. "No one else's."

"Yours and yours alone," she confirmed with a tired nod, squeezing my hand. "But I did learn one thing tonight," she added, looking up at me from behind the curtain of her curls.

"What's that?"

"I'm definitely not a lesbian. It felt weird being checked out by a woman, and even weirder pressing my body against hers when we danced. She doesn't have the right shape, and I kept getting distracted by the fact that our boobs were bumping together and getting in the way of us getting as close as I would normally be with you in that kind of situation."

I groaned, because despite myself, the image of my Babe bumping and grinding with another woman had been hot. I was only a man, after all, and I couldn't always control when my dick took over the brain. "Can I check you out?" I asked the first thing to pop into my head, lowering my gaze to do just that.

She let out a little laugh. "I want nothing more than for you to check me out," she agreed. "Should I expect more overdue fees if I don't return the favour?"

"Babe," I said, stepping forward and lifting her chin so we were eye to eye, our lips less than an inch apart. "If I have my way, you'll never need an overdue fee again."