Shelter from the Storm

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This takes place at the same time as, or just before Jane's Dilemma. enjoy!

Chapter 28 ~ The Valentine Surprise

Lester

It was mid-February, New Jersey grey and dismal. I was on an in-country rotation and lucky me, I was spending my days—and nights of course—training this new guy that Ranger hired. We called the new man Dave Smith. That's one of Ranger's little CIA jokes, he calls everyone who needs an AKA either Smith or Jones. I was not exactly training this man—more I was showing him the ropes: how to navigate around Jersey, where stuff is, who the good cops are, who the bad cops are, making sure that Doug understood that here in Trenton we don't just shoot—or stab—our way out of tight spaces. Because lemme tell you, this guy was Interpol's Ten Most Wanted poster boy, the face that launched a thousand agents—for sure I recognize Dragan Dardasqu' when I see him.

So far, Drag seems like a fast learner.

Now we pulled into the Haywood Street underground garage at the end of a tedious day. Over by the elevators I noticed movement and put a hand on my gun. Drag peered through the wind shield, said, "Eeet eeez leetle Miss Zoë and ze bonă, the luuuvley Breetah." nanny

Good thing Dragan didn't talk much because his accent was really annoying. He sounded like the guy on Sesame Street. However his assessment was correct. I parked the car and looked over the scene. There was a large blue tarp taped to the cold concrete floor and Britta and Zoë were on their hands and knees doing, well, something incomprehensible. The floor really wasn't that cold, since Rangeman's garage was heated. Ranger likes his German sports cars kept toasty warm. But it wasn't not my idea of a fun place to play.

Britta's shiny blond head was bent near Zoë's dark curls and both seemed intent on their project. Watching over them was Zoë's bodyguard, Russian hitman Arkady Petrovich (are you seeing a theme here?) aka Monster who though alert and armed—very armed—had commandeered a canvas sling director's chair to oversee in comfort whatever the girls were up to.

I said to my trainee "You go ahead, I want to check this out."

Scornful green eyes. "I will accompany you." ["I vill ah-com Panny yvou."]

Grrr! Count Dracula speaks. I winced and halfway out of the Explorer I turned back to him and said, "Ranger ever talk to you about diction lessons, man?'

Ranger detests regional accents, he likes that military army flat-speak unless someone is undercover and uses an accent for a reason. Dragan turned his dead man's eyes on me again and replied, "No. He hasn't. Is there a problem, Santos?" Not a speck of Romanian accent, geez. He sounded born and raised in, like—Kansas. Or California.

I mumbled, "Nevermind," and he took his hand off his gun. I added, "Suit yourse—"

"Hello hello hello!" yelled Zoë who caught sight of us approaching. She flung herself at me and I gave her a hug and a twirl. I said, "You remember Dave, right? From the park?" She nodded and gave Drag a little smile.

She said, "De ce nu se spune Dave?" why do they call you Dave?

Dragan shrugged and answered in the same language. Zoë nodded, said, "I shall call you Dragon anyway. Come on, come on! Both of you come see. We are making Valentines, see?"

Yeah, we saw. The tarp was covered with an explosion of stickers and glue sticks and kiddy scissors; bags of little candies, all kinds of frilly girl stuff, what a mess. And everywhere you can imagine was dusted with red glitter. We stopped a few safe feet away, nodded at Monster, said hi to Britta, the hot little blonde au pair from Sweden. Zoë was still talking, of course. "Britta says that so much glitter makes Ella nervous, maybe daddy won't want his house full of glitter! So we came here to make Valentines for everyone!"

Yeah like he'll love it all over his freakin cars, baby.

Zoë went on, "See! These are little heart boxes. I saw them on Martha Stewart on TV and I am making them for all my best friends at school...''

"For everyone in your class, Zoë," interjected Britta gently.

Nod."Yeah, yeah. And see? They are to be blinged and glittered, filled with red hots and sweetie hearts and one special chocolate truffle for each best friend!"

"I don't see any truffles." I looked carefully. I love chocolate and you can imagine it is a rare sight here at Rangeman.

Huge dramatic sigh from Zoë. "Uh, Killer ate all the truffles...he thought they were ever so yummy, he just gobbled them all UP! ...then he barfed and made a mess in all our glitter and stuff where we was working in the living room and the glitter got all over and and and..." Little arms waved wildly.

"Nevermind, chica, I get the picture."

Dragan finally spoke up."Is the little dog okay?"

"Mommy took him to the vet but she called and told us he's fine 'cos he puked up the truffles. Because doggies aren't allowed to eat chocolate, is that not ever so sad?"

"Good to know."

"She'll be home soon and I don't want her to see this special Valentine I am gonna make for her and daddy." Zoë brandished a large recycled Whitman's chocolate box, shaped like a heart.

I said to Britta, "That's so nice of you to help Zoë." She glanced at me, then her eyes went back to Drag. Mesmerized. I tried again, more flirt in my voice, "Any Valentine plans, sweetheart?"

Her eyes flicked to me then dismissed me. Dragan squatted down by Zoë, oblivious to the red glitter mess. Zoë chattered to him a mile a minute and a faint smile crossed his face. Britta heaved a big sigh, which the assassin ignored. He sat all the way down with Zoë, and...my cell rang. Tank: Get your ass up here, I need to see you about the ..." As I walked away I could hear Dragan's quiet voice and Zoë's enthusiastic, if unintelligible, response.

The elevator whooshed open, and as the doors closed I could see Arkady's worried face, he spoke and Zoë started to wail. I hit the Open Door button and was ready to intervene. But no, he had dropped to his knees on the tarp too. There she was, little mini Ranger, surrounded by her tame hitmen and six pounds of shiny red dust. Little girl heaven. I went up to five.

a few days later: Valentine's Day, almost midnight

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Stephanie

I came home late from a fruitless hunt for one of Vinnie's FTA's. Ranger must have come in just before I did because I could hear the shower running, music softly playing. In the dining room the table was set for a romantic midnight supper, candles in votives, white roses, nice china and real silver silverware. Ella had fun, I grinned to myself.

I slouched down on the leather sofa, closed my eyes. The music was cool, what was that anyway? Some instrument, not guitars or bass but...? I supposed Ranger would know.

I let myself relax for a moment, suddenly aware of my happiness. We were all home and safe; champagne was cooling in a silver ice bucket next to my feet in my ratty Vans. The man I love was actually here with me. I could forget—or ignore—all those times when he had to be gone, god knows where, doing god knows what. All the years of confusion, angst, of Ranger pushing me away for my own good, countered by my irresistible urge to come as close to the flame, the fire that is Ranger, warring with his need for control.

I smiled to myself, thought, It's working. Go figure...

Ranger

I walked out of the bedroom and stopped short at the archway to the living room. Stephanie was home, and it looked like she had fallen asleep before the fun began. She looked tired but beautiful, her pretty pink lips parted, half smile, half snore. My goddess.

Silently I sat down by her side. I drew her Valentine gift from my pocket and very gently clasped it around her throat. The chocolate diamond nestled in the hollow of her neck and sparkled intriguingly. I nudged it aside and kissed the tender spot where it had lain. My mouth followed the black silk cord around to the side, I nuzzled under her ear. She murmured and stretched, tilting her chin aside to grant me more access.

Then she woke up.

"Oh!"

"Happy Valentine's Day, babe."

"I? You..." She was dopey with sleep.

I said, "I brought you a present."

Blue eyes went wide."You did? Where is it?''

I said, "Right here," and touched her throat.

Steph's hand followed mine then she jumped up and ran to the powder room to see. I stood behind her into he open doorway. "It's amazing, Ranger, what is it?"

"It's a chocolate diamond," I said. "Seemed appropriate..." The necklace was a chocolate diamond the size of a thumbnail, surrounded by tiny perfect white diamonds and suspended on a slim black silk cord. The clasp was a pave' diamond toggle and loop. "I thought a chocolate diamond was perfect for you."

"It's so extravagant!" Is it insured?

"Perfect for the street, babe, low profile. And, yes, it's insured." She couldn't wear her diamond heart from Choppard all the time, it was so obviously what it was...and could make her a target.

"I love it! I love you!"

She threw herself into my arms and I happily carried her back to the sofa. "Champagne?" I asked.

"My hero!"

I smiled and we clinked glasses, kissed again. But her "my hero" worried me. Did Steph still think of me as Batman? The armed and dangerous black knight who saved the day...and her pretty ass? Did she really think that was who I am? And did she think that fairy tale shit was what made us special?

Stephanie has no ESP at all but my sudden withdrawal caught her attention and she set her glass down, took my glass and set it down too. She scrunched close to me, my wrists held in her hands, her eyes locked on mine. She said, "You'll always be my hero, Ranger. Not because you've saved my life but because I know...I know, deep in my heart, in my soul, that you'll always be here for me, for us. For the good times and the bad times..."

"For whatever, babe."

"You made it home when Zoë was being born..."

"Took presidential intervention but I made it, babe," I said.

"I know I can trust you, depend on you. That's why I love you..."

Our lips met, time suspended into nothingness...I lowered her down onto the couch and...

"Mommymommymommy, daddydaddydaddydaddy!"

We sat up so fast Steph banged her head on my chin. "Ow!"

"Daddy! What were you guys doing? Mommy, are you okay?"

Stephanie smiled and stretched out her arms."Hi, sweetie! Happy Valentine's Day!"

Zoë evaded the hug and looked suspicious. "I waited all day! I was sad!"

I said, "Zoë, chica, I gave you your Valentine this morning, remember?" A black velvet bat toy and a tiny pink version of her mother's necklace. (What? Yes it's a diamond, she's my princess. So sue me for being extravagant. Geez.) "And we had heart shaped pancakes."

"Yes but this is for both you and mommy. It's a surprise! A big surprise."

From behind her back she produced a messily wrapped package.

"Open it!"

Inside was a large heart covered with bits of red ribbon and stickers and shiny Bejeweled gems. In her little girl printing, in the center it said, To Mommy & Daddy. She pointed at the writing. "I wrote that note my very own self! I am only four, you know!"

"Very nice writing, Zoë,'' I told her.

"Open it!"

"Okay, okay." I patted the sofa, "Come help?''

But she lingered shyly on the other side of the coffee table, Killer the pug at her feet.

Steph and I together lifted the lid.

KABOOM!

The fucking thing exploded with a loud bang and massive quantities of red and black confetti shot out all over the room, over us, over Killer, in the champagne. It floated down from the ceiling and stuck in Steph's eyelashes and, oh geez, it was everywhere.

The front door banged open and Tank and Manny rushed in, guns drawn.

When they saw us they stopped short, openmouthed. Confetti drifted in. Tank made to spit, but then wiped his mouth on his sleeve instead. The confetti was little metallic shapes: tiny red kissy lips, pink hearts, silver champagne glasses and little black Batman logos. We'd be cleaning it for the next ten years.

Manny mumbled, "What the fu...?"

Zoë grinned beatifically and said, "Dragon helped me. He's good at blowing things up, he says."

Epilog

Cut to Drag and Britta on their date that Zoë has maneuvered them into. Dragan, for one, didn't mind at all-Britta was hot, and sweet too. Not to mention athletic-looking. Drag liked that part a lot, he had fantasies about athletic-looking Swedish blondes. Over dessert he said, in his phony Midwestern accentless voice, ''I hope the boss likes his Valentine from Zoë. I just wish we'd been able to rig a camera in the loft."

Britta giggled. She said, "He loves anything Zoë does. He's the best daddy." She smiled at the handsome young Romanian hitman, hoping he got the idea. Britta wasn't stupid. Blonde and beautiful: yes, stupid: no. She understood that the hot young men in black who worked for her employer were ex-soldiers. At best. But this man, with his long black hair and green eyes and all those muscles...oh, who cared! she thought. "He's a wonderful father."

"Hard to imagine," said Dragan sadly.

Happy Valentine's Day/ the end of the story, series tbc

Reviews are always treasured!

love

sunny