a/n Most of the stories in this collection were written for my writing group. Often they are built around movie quotes and now and then you may have the fun of recognizing a line or two. Many thanks to everyone there, especially C & M—without your inspirations these scenes would never have existed.

love

s

Shelter from the Storm

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Chapter Four ~ Hello, hello!

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[Ranger]

Steph clutches my hand and stares at me with her big blue eyes. "You made it."

"I promised, babe, did you doubt me?"

"Nooooo, not you, but just um...events, maybe?"

... ... ...

Yeah, well, events had me running an undercover solo job over in the sand pit this past week, even though Steph was due to give birth any minute. I was halfway back to the US in a plane over the Atlantic when I got Tank's somewhat frantic call: "Rangeman, get your ass back to Trenton, I am NOT doing the delivery coach thing, not even for you."

I landed at an air force base near DC and lucky for me, I have connections because the marine heli that is Marine One when the president is in it was waiting for me. I was hustled aboard and flown up to Trenton. Also lucky for me we landed on the roof of St Francis Hospital so I didn't have to run the gauntlet of the Plum family circus, no doubt established in the waiting room, along with Connie and Lula, Tank and most of the Merry Men. And Joe Morelli.

The hospital people looked dubious when they saw me. I had changed on the plane but was dressed in a grey RMPMC t-shirt, clean but faded light desert cammo combats, jump boots and a shitoad of weapons.

The obstetrician exiting the labor room glanced at my automatic rifle and said, dryly, "Probably you won't need that, Dad."

"I am not your fucking dad, doc."

"It's just an expression, ah, Mr. Manoso."

"Lose it."

"Okaaay." Great, now Steph's doctor is scared shitless.

"How is she?"

"She's fine, the baby is fine, taking its time though. Go ahead, go on in. I'll be back, ah—later. Or tomorrow. The nurses' station has my number." He hustled off, no doubt had an early tee time.

I took a second to change gears—one moment I was a soldier completing a covert mission, now I was supposed to just switch up and be a father?

I walked into the labor room where Stephanie looked a little surprised to see me.

... ... ...

Now Steph says, "What if it's not a boy, Ranger?"

"No problem."

"You wanted a boy right? It might be a girl it could be a girl what if the baby is a girl?

She sounds a little tense. I smile down at her and say, "It doesn't matter, babe. As long as you're both okay and healthy I don't care if the baby is a friggin' chihuahua."

"A-a what? A chihuahua? Are you out of your fucking mind? This is a baby."

I hide my inner wince. Isn't transition the stage when the woman gets abusive? I say, "Bad word choice, babe. You know what I meant, right?"

"Huh."

I gently brush her wild curls off her sweaty forehead and she presses her face into my hand. I sit down on the edge of the hospital bed and hold her through a couple of contractions. She is trying for stoic, but I see the pain that foretells the agony to come.

After a while Steph says, "I'm glad you're here, Ranger."

"Me too." Sort of, though whoever thought up the idea that the dad should be an active participant in birthing was a moron. Or a woman.

"Seems like everything is happening all at once. Even though it took nine months."

"i know."

She says, "I'm scared, Ranger."

"I know. I'm a little nervous here too, Stephanie,"

"Not you, you're always brave and strong."

I say, "The way it works is, you do the thing you're scared shitless of, and you get the courage after you do it, not before you do it."

"Do you believe that?"

"Sure." No. Keeping my voice quiet but firm, I add, "I believe in you, babe. You can do this...we can do it. I promise."

Steph frowns at me. "Prob'ly we've got no choice at point, babe."

... ... ...

"You have a baby girl, Stephanie," intones the golf-shirted doctor twenty hours later. "Seven pounds, one ounce, 19 inches," adds the nurse.

The second nurse lays the infant on Steph's chest and I touch its hand carefully. "She's beautiful Steph. Our baby girl."

Steph squirms because they are still doing—stuff—down there. She says, "At least she's not a chihuahua."

And the doc and all three nurses look up and say, "What?"

I carefully lean over and kiss Steph then the baby. A nurse swaddles the infant in a soft white blanket and hands her to me. I hold her in both hands but she is so tiny that one hand would do. I touch a black silky whorl of hair, admire her red splotchy complexion and infinitely tiny nose, the rosebud mouth. I meet the dark dark eyes of my child, the eyes that see me, know me...and I can feel her presence in my world. Daddydaddydaddy, here I am! Lookit me! Hello, hello!

I whisper, "Hello, Zoë Emilia. I love you."

Of course you do, daddy. I am perfect...Nice gun.

the beginning

end of story/ series tbc