All familiar characters belong to Janet. Olive and any mistakes are mine.

"On, do, fee …" Olivia's saying, as she stuffs cotton balls into the spout of a smoothie cup for the makeshift game Stephanie came up with to keep our daughter occupied while she gets dressed in the morning.

"Where's number four?" I asked my baby, waiting for her to locate the cotton ball that had fallen off the cushion and onto the living room carpet.

"Uh-oh no, Mo!" She rhyme-ordered, leaning over the arm I had around her so she could rescue the fluff ball from our dog's inquisitive nose. "It's da toy. No eatz dat!"

"It doesn't taste good," I assured her. "He won't eat it … only play with it a little."

"I playz," she informed me, getting a good grip on it. She made a face quickly after. "It wet!"

"Should we get a new one so you can continue to count? Or are you ready for a new game?"

"We get a ore!"

I lifted her off the couch and put her down beside it. "Alright. They're in the bathroom."

She took off, with Gunny and Mo on her bare heels, towards the bathroom. I was right behind them, not wanting another Band-Aid raid that involved a high security relocation project. We were heading back to the living room with a fresh handful of cotton balls to count when Mado chose to grace us with her presence and obstruct our path by winding between our legs.

"No playz, Ado," Olivia told our cat, using a tone bordering on a scolding one.

"It's not fair to blame Mado for what Mo did. She may have no interest in playing with your game pieces."

I realized that I took the wrong approach to a lesson when Olivia pulled her arm back and let a cotton ball fly as far as one could go. Deciding to act like a cat for a brief moment, Mado stalked her prey and did take off after it, pouncing once before she remembered that playing is beneath her and proceeded us into the living room.

I felt my daughter's brown eyes land on me. "Alright. So, it looks like she did want to act like Ammo, but at least she waited until you shared your game with her to join in."

"Mo dono wait," she pointed out, with a solemn frown on her face.

"Not all the time, but he and Gunny are still young dogs. They get just as excited as kids do sometimes."

She nodded in a way that had me pausing. One minute she's struggling to count household items, and the next she appears to be fucking with me ... likely understanding far more than we'd expect. I turned Olivia towards the living room and the couch before Mado could take our spot, but Tank was suddenly there.

"Give me Olive and get your ass to Stephanie," was his order to me.

He didn't bother calling ahead or knocking, he used his key to barge into my apartment and reached for my daughter … knowing I wouldn't want a millisecond wasted if my wife is in danger.

"Lester will give you the details enroute," I barely heard him say, as I hauled ass out of my apartment and tackled the stairs like they're the only thing standing between me and Stephanie.

I had just reached my truck when Santos appeared behind me. "Let's go. Bobby said there's a domestic in progress. Total mental break from the sound of it."

"Chehabi's threatening my wife?" I asked, knowing exactly who she was supposed to be apprehending today.

"No. Seems to be recurring trouble in paradise. His old lady lost her shit when she stormed into the house while Steph and Bobby were arresting the guy. Started accusing Steph of being his side piece."

"Say that again, and you'll feel it," I warned, needing someplace to direct my rage.

"Shit, Ranger. That's why I said the woman's hitched a ride to crazy town. No sane person would ever believe Stephanie's anyone but yours."

The truth of that statement did nothing to alleviate my tension. If anything happens to Stephanie …

"Bobby says they've got it under control, but he knew you'd kick his ass if he didn't tell you in case more eyes and trigger fingers are needed once we get Steph outta there," Lester said into my silence.

"What are we walking into?" I asked.

I make sure to read every FTA file of Stephanie's and memorize the addresses she'll be trying, so I know where my wife will be in case something like this goes down. And today, there's no fucking way I'm hanging around outside waiting for more intel or the right moment. Fuck my training. Nothing matters except getting my arms around my wife and getting her the fuck away from here. I can say here because I'd ignored the speed limit - and a few unbusy stop signs - to reach the asshole's home faster, putting me in the same town as Stephanie is now.

"The girlfriend decided not to notice Brown or the cuffs, just saw a woman in 'her house' and took off to the attached garage. She grabbed the tank of gasoline they keep on hand - I'd guess for the lawnmower given the backyard they have - and started threatening to torch them all with the gas and her cigarette lighter."

As worried as I am, I also know this sounds like something Stephanie can handle. She's a master of talking, cajoling, or threatening people into calming down and de-escalating a crisis. The reason she has a partner for every takedown is if her methods don't work, whoever's with her can end it with a 'bullet point' to an asshole's head.

"If she wants her boyfriend not to die in five minutes," I said out loud, "she'd better have rethought that plan."

The girlfriend hadn't come to her senses upon our arrival to their nondescript and non-assuming two-story, generically sided home. But as I pushed their security door in, not giving a fuck about the element of surprise right now, I saw my wife knock the woman out cold with an impressive right hook. The potential weapons rendered useless.

"Sorry about that," she said to the now unconscious form, "but I have a daughter to get home to and she doesn't like boo-boos on her people and fourth degree burns would count."

As Lester cuffed her while Bobby walked our original FTA outside, I curled my fingers along Stephanie's wrist and pulled her to me. She fell against my chest with force but didn't seem to mind. Her arms wound just as tightly around me as the grip I had her in.

"At least the last time I worried you, it introduced us to Jax and Simone. I am sorry, though. I keep freaking you out, don't I?" She said into my jacket.

"Yes, but it's nothing new."

"Maybe not, but I feel like I'm getting too old for this kind of crap."

I hid a grin in her curls. "I'm older than you are."

"Only by two months, but you do have less of a temper and your trouble magnet is more selective than mine."

"Are you having second thoughts about being a bounty hunter?" I asked, knowing what answer I'm hoping she's leaning towards.

There's plenty she can do within our organization that doesn't involve almost being burned alive.

"No. I just need to figure out how to combat stupid people a little better. Is Olive with Tank or Ella?"

I raised a brow.

She nodded into me. "Right. Stupid question. GodTank probably ordered you to hand her over and get out of their way."

"More or less."

"Should we give them more time together and take these two to the station ourselves?"

"No. You've had enough fun for one day. Brown and Santos can handle Bonnie and Clyde here."

"What the fuck happened to me?" Said Eliza Jenkins from the floor.

I recalled her name as a possible lead to the skip. The couple really should've reconsidered waking up this morning.

"My wife happened," I said, not hiding one ounce of pride I'm currently feeling. "You should be thanking everything you believe in that she can influence my decision, or you wouldn't be given a jail option."

"Ranger, don't threaten a gruesome death before lunch," Steph teased.

"I can't help it. Anyone who threatens you deserves a long, drawn out one."

"Maybe later. Let's see how they behave with Bobby and Lester before you decide to commit murder."

"It's not murder in this case, Babe. It'll count as self-defense."

"Not now that they're handcuffed and ready to roll."

"It's all in how you word the police call and following statement," I tried out.

"No. Me and Bobby are okay. That's all that matters."

I can't say I agree completely with that. I have my wife back in my arms, but she could have easily been on her way to the hospital or worse. Something should be done to them for the fear that was shot into me.

"If that's your final decision," I said, not wanting to worry my wife with where my mind had gone.

"It is. I just want to see Olive and what she's been up to while we've been here."

"I bet it includes dogs, counting, and Tank trying to bribe her."

"You'd probably win. Let's head home."

She filled in more details on how the apprehension started, and when she got to the part where it went severely wrong, my gut twisted. Today put a lot of things into perspective. You could get up in the morning, kiss your spouse goodbye before work, and lose them minutes later. I'm not afraid of anything I can control, but moments like the one I'd just walked in on terrify me on every level. I purposely had to gentle my hold on her after I parked and got her door for her.

If I could block out the last hour, which I'll never be able to do, I'd say this is another perfect moment in our lengthy collection of them. The elevator ride up to Seven felt too long yet wasn't long enough. I unlocked our apartment door and less than a second later, Steph's voice rang behind me.

"Olive! Mama and Daddy are home!"

Since we have carpeting, we couldn't hear the pitter patter of toddler feet, but we saw the ball of chaotic energy that is our daughter take a sharp corner from the kitchen and into the front hall.

"I got fife!" She shouted.

I looked inside her pink and purple play purse and cut my eyes to her overgrown babysitter.

"Baby carrots?" I asked Tank.

"Yeah. She's a baby, it seemed appropriate when the cotton things kept going flying."

"I no baby," she said, clearly admonishing her GodTank. "I's really big gurl."

"As one big girl to another," Steph said to her, "can Mama get a hug? I need a super-giant one, so put some squeeze into it."

Our daughter was up for the challenge of partially strangling her Mama, and both ladies seemed to enjoy the moment.

I met Tank's eyes as they bonded. "Everything go okay?" He asked.

"In a manner of speaking. Stephanie did what she's good at."

"Ouch," was his response.

"That likely would've been said if the person wasn't rendered immediately unconscious."

"Proud of you, Steph," he told her.

"Thank you," my wife said. "I wasn't about to miss out on this kind of homecoming. No one was going to get in the way of it."

"You rethinking things?" He asked.

She sighed and released our daughter long enough so I could also get a hug from our baby. "You guys are drinking the same Kool-Aid. No. I'm not giving up my job or my place on the team. I do need to amp up my gut instincts and maybe turn them into psychic ones, though."

"You'll get a raise if you manage it," he told her.

"I know you're kidding, but I'm holding you to that."

He nodded. "Do you need to do anything? I can stick around."

"Is Mabyn busy?" Steph asked. "Or is Olive fully back to worshipping you and you don't want to lose any of the ground you've just made?"

"Both. Mabyn declared today Mother/Daughter Day and she took her mom to lunch. They're also scheduled to get facials or some shit before driving over to the cemetery. And Olive did make me a snack because she loves me."

I can picture just how he twisted the event into something to make himself feel special. "Olivia shoving a carrot into your mouth is not her fixing you food."

"You had to be there," he replied.

"You're full of something … and it isn't a vegetable, but you can hang out here. Stephanie and Olivia will appreciate the company."

"You'll enjoy it too," my wife said.

"No. I'll just be happy to have backup on hand in case you or Olive try to stage an uprising."

"I'm surrounded by comedians today. Come on, Olive," she said, holding out her hand for our daughter to latch onto, "we've got some puzzles that won't do themselves before naptime."

"You got any with cars or something not so girly as that carrot-catcher?" Tank asked.

"We have one of everything," I informed him.

Steph cut her eyes to me before her blue laser beams flipped back to Tank. "Name your poison. Vehicles, colors, shapes, animals …"

"We did numbers with the vegetable. Vehicles and colors sound tolerable."

Steph narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you messing with me? It actually looked like you put some thought into your answer."

"I did. Olive's looking down the barrel of preschool, she's gonna need to be able to kick those other preschoolers' butts. She can't fire a gun or threaten them with us, so I'm going with the knowledge is power angle here."

"Are you thinking about more than just Olive's future?"

"Instead of grilling him about his intentions towards Mabyn, Babe, maybe you should just thank him for providing another distraction for our daughter."

Her nose scrunched up in defiance, but she did what I suggested. "Thank you for everything you do - and have done - for Olive … but if you ever want to talk about your relationship, or where you'd like it to go, I'm here. The Burg wasn't good for much, but everyone raised in it can 'advice' away."

He surprised me by not immediately snapping a polite version of 'shut up', so I had to wonder if Stephanie is a lot closer to attaining psychic abilities than she knows.