Chapter 8

Lester

I lay on the floor of my cousin's office, throwing a ball into the air and catching it again without having to move my arm. It was a skill I'd practised often throughout my teens, lying on my bed and throwing the ball at the ceiling, and the accuracy of my throw in this position had served me well on at least one occasion while deployed overseas, so I made a point of keeping it up. Bobby sat a few feet away from my head in one of the visitor's chairs by the desk, a sudoku propped on his knee and a pen twirling in his right hand, deep in thought, otherwise he might have snatched the ball from the air a while ago. Across the room, Tank's massive form was dwarfing the small sofa, his head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed.

It was the week between Christmas and New Years, so technically only one member of the core team needed to be here, but Ranger had called us in for a meeting that apparently couldn't wait six days for us all to be back at work. Hence our casual attire and the way we'd arrayed ourselves throughout the room. And Ranger didn't even have the decency to be on time to his own meeting. I know he's slow at the moment, but it's never stopped him before.

Tank snored and I tossed my ball at him to wake him up. Poor guy was on call for nights this week and had had to deal with a series of false alarms that had indicated some kind of system failure the night shift had been unable to rectify. He'd been up since three after getting only a couple hours sleep, so if Ranger didn't hurry up, he was going to have to deal with Tank's pissy I-just-woke-up attitude. There was only so much Bobby and I could do to keep him awake and personable.

"Throw the ball at me one more time, Santos," Tank growled after a moment of fumbling for it as he startled awake and it rolled down his body. "And I'll shove it so far up your ass, you'll taste it in the back of your throat."

Bobby snorted. "Creative, but not possible," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Might I suggest forcing Lester's own balls back inside his body instead?"

I let out a gasp of indignation and betrayal. "Bobby!" I exclaimed, craning my head back to see him. "I thought you loved me!"

"I do," he assured me, and I noted he still hadn't looked up from his sudoku, the pen still twirling mindlessly. "I'm just trying to educate Tank on what balls can be stored where. And besides," he did avert his gaze from the book now, a familiar twinkle in his eye as he found my gaze. "It wouldn't be the first time you tucked."

He wasn't wrong. Earlier in the year we'd gotten a tip that one of the FTAs we were after would be competing in a Drag competition in Atlantic City, and apparently I'd chosen the wrong day to be late to the morning meeting, because by the time I'd arrived, I'd been nominated to go undercover at the competition, and Junior had already chosen my drag name and set up a meeting with his old college pal who was in on that scene to get me ready for the job. It had been an education and a half by the time we got to how to fix the silhouette of my little soldier and his munitions, and I can't say it was an experience I particularly enjoyed. The dressing up and acting, yes. The tucking my anatomy inside me, no.

Tank shuddered. "I don't need to hear this," he announced, probably thinking Bobby was referring to some depraved sex thing we'd engaged in on a regular basis. Tank had no problem with us being in a relationship, but he drew the line at hearing about our sex lives, which was a far cry from his reaction when I used to share details of my hookups with ladies from the club. To each their own, I guess.

Before we could either reassure Tank that we weren't referring to sexual acts, or alternatively, lean into the topic just to watch him squirm, the door to the office finally opened and Ranger swung in on his crutches, Hal following in his wake with a tray of take away cups from the coffee shop down the street.

I was on my feet immediately, at once confused and grateful. Confused because Ranger never provided libations for meetings, Christmas season or not. And grateful because as adequate as the coffee in the breakroom was, it had nothing on what I knew was in those cups.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, gesturing for Hal to set the cup tray on the desk and leave. "I stopped by Darla's for coffee and ran into a little transportation problem. I had to wait for Hal to come assist."

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "What's the occasion?"

Ranger shrugged a shoulder, setting his crutches aside and carefully lowering himself into his chair. He still looked like hell, and probably would until his bruises were gone and he'd overcome the constant exhaustion he was currently plagued with, but there was a certain twinkle in his expression, a lightness to his posture that I didn't recognise.

Was he… happy?

"I thought you might appreciate the pick me up, since I called you all in on a Saturday," he explained, leaning forward to retrieve the cup marked with his name. "I spoke to the barista on shift and she was pretty sure she recalled each of your usual orders," he added with a wave toward the rest of the cups. "I had to describe you to her and she consulted the guy on the till as well."

Now we were all narrowing our eyes at him. This was unusual behaviour for Ranger. He was the kind of guy that told you to get over it if you complained about your drink order being wrong, not the kind that went out of the way to surprise you with your favourite.

"What did you do?" Tank demanded, suddenly looming beside me at the edge of the desk.

"Can't I just do something nice for my friends?" he deflected, and we all shook our heads.

"Does this have anything to do with Christmas eve?" I asked slowly, considering everything I knew of my cousin's personality and how recent events might impact his actions.

Now it was his turn to shake his head, but I saw the moment he attempted to hide the sparkle I'd already seen. Too little, too late, primo, I thought. I had more puzzle pieces than he probably realised.

"What happened on Christmas eve?" Tank asked, lifting his cup from the tray and returning to the sofa to take a seat while I arranged myself in the second visitor's chair next to Bobby.

I grinned because I knew he wanted to forget the whole ordeal and never be reminded of it for the rest of his life. But as his cousin, I felt it was my duty to drive home the message the universe was sending him in the form of embarrassment in front of the entire family. "Carlos learned the hard way what happens when you assume things," I said vaguely, using his given name to needle him a little more. He hated when we did that at work. "And then stick to those assumptions for a year instead of talking to his family and friends to get the actual story."

"And now Maria and Celia have thrown down the gauntlet that he has to actually spend quality time with people rather than treating everything as a business interaction," Bobby added, taking a sip of his coffee and nodding approval.

Tank considered this information while he let the first sip of his coffee coat his tongue, eyeing Ranger contemplatively while the boss glared at Bobby and me. That wasn't looking like a good start to the whole quality time thing. I didn't know many people who would call being glared at 'quality time'. I was just about to say as much when Tank swallowed his mouthful with the slightest wrinkle of his nose, set the cup on the coffee table in front of him and stated, "I'm pretty sure that's Cal's coffee order.

Bobby held out a hand in Tank's direction, silently requesting a taste, and Tank obliged, leaning forward to pass it over. I watched my fiance sniff delicately at the little slot in the lid before taking a sip and swirling the liquid around in his mouth, like one might at a wine tasting. I followed suit when he passed me the cup and as I returned it to Tank I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it at least wasn't what Tank would have ordered.

"That's definitely not Tank's," Bobby agreed with my thoughts out loud.

"How did you describe him to make the order?" I asked, leaning a casual elbow on the desk as I cocked an eyebrow at Ranger. "Big and bald? Could you not think of any more defining features? Like skin tone and tattoos or lack thereof?"

"It's a coffee," he bit out, clenching his fist where it rested on the arm of the chair. "Did the rules on it's the thought that counts change while I was out of the country?"

We all shook our heads. "No," I said. "But Tank switched to tea back in March." He looked like he wanted to sigh, so I decided to take pity on him at least a little bit. Afterall, this was going to be a tough journey for him. Ranger hates people. "You got mine spot-on though," I said. "Bobby."

Bobby nodded, making a show of taking another sip. "Perfect."

"Great," Carlos said, his tone ambiguous and business-like. I guess we'd exhausted his stores of good-faith for the day already and we were stuck with the robot he'd become over time as he started shutting everyone out. "If we're all done roasting me, can we move on to why I called the meeting?"

"Please," Tank yawned. "The sooner we're done here, the sooner I can get some sleep."

"Why let the meeting stop you?" I joked, earning a glare from both my cousin and my friend. I held up my hands in the universal I surrender signal and waved for Ranger to proceed.

"I've hired a new office manager," he said without preamble, probably in an attempt to curb any more witty banter.

"Yeah, Steph," Bobby and I said in perfect, unrehearsed unison

Ranger's brow furrowed. "How did you know?"

Bobby shrugged, setting both his coffee and his sudoku book on the edge of the desk as I returned to sipping my own beverage. "She told us Christmas eve," he explained.

My poor, socially inept cousin was still confused, but was attempting to cover it with his blank face now. "I only offered her the job on Christmas eve," he said, eyeing us both. "And you two had already left."

I shook my head slowly. "Wow, primo. Do you not know about phones?" I asked, lifting my own from my belt and waving it at him. "They're these devices that allow you to keep in contact with people who aren't in close physical proximity to you. Steph texted us after it happened."

"Texted you?"

"Yeah, because we're friends." I leaned heavily on the word. I'd be lying if I wasn't enjoying the cold hard truth that my cousin was, in fact, not the be all and end all of insider knowledge for once. I knew he was out of touch with the family and had been ever since he ran his first solo mission for the government a few years ago, but this latest development with Steph and Marco was the proof in the pudding I needed to goad him into changing his ways. Tia Maria and Celia had already given him an ultimatum, so it wouldn't hurt to give him a little nudge of encouragement every now and then.

If he were a regular man, he might have been grinding his teeth by now with how frustrated he was with the direction of the conversation, but Ranger was no mere mortal. He was the picture of perfect patience. The Prince of Lying in Wait. The calm at the centre of every storm. So he just took an even breath, and glared at me a little harder. Until Tank piped up and took him by surprise, that is.

"Wait, Steph-Steph?" he asked, leaning forward with interest. "Steph-with-the-deadly-knee, Steph? That Steph?"

"The one and only, " I confirmed, though I didn't appreciate the reminder of the pain that the unsuspecting part of her anatomy had caused me. "Like Ranger said, she's starts in the new year."

Tank's face split in a rare grin and he sat up a little straighter against the sofa cushions, suddenly seeming a lot less tired. "That's great," he enthused. "She'll be a good addition to the team. She already fits in surprisingly well with the guys. You said she's gonna be the new office manager?"

Ranger's legendary blank face was entirely absent now as he stared from his second in command to Bobby and me, his mouth practically hanging agape. I could see the questions filling the forefront of his brain, but no words made it to his lips for several long moments. The urge to take a photo of his face for posterity was strong, but I managed to resist by thinking about how much I love not being pummelled on the mats. Ranger may be injured and slower to move at the moment, but as he proved on Christmas eve, that wouldn't stop him from eking out his particular brand of punishment. Marco hadn't even seen it coming.

"How do you know Steph?" he finally questioned, sounding delightfully incredulous. If we played our cards right, we might be able to get through to him in one easy meeting.

"She's been to a couple poker nights," Tank shrugged nonchalantly, pretty sure he was enjoying poking the bear as well. "And I helped these two knuckleheads with some training they were giving her."

"Training?" His eyes turned to Bobby now, probably because I was only marginally containing my snickers. "What training?"

Bobby took a leisurely sip of his coffee, picking up his pen and filling in a square on his sudoku that he must have still been contemplating throughout the discussion before finally lifting his gaze to the boss again. He was acutely aware that he held the power here, and if this was any other meeting we might all be skating on thin ice with how we were treating him, but the ambiguous Christmas to New Years timing along with Ranger being so thoroughly off his game since his Christmas eve revelations meant that we had a certain amount of immunity.

Just as Ranger was starting to lose patience, Bobby set the pen back down and folded his hands in his lap. "She has great instincts," he explained. "The morning after Les found her and we took her back to our place to spend the night, she kneed Les in the nuts so hard he saw stars."

"I didn't have a chance to defend myself," I added, allowing a serious expression to blanket my grin. That phantom ache in my crotch was back again, but it didn't even begin to eclipse the sense of pride that swelled in my chest. I'd been impressed with her raw instincts that morning, but seeing how much she'd refined her skills over the last year, she'd come along in leaps and bounds. "We offered to give her some self defence training to really give her a solid set of skills to fall back on."

"And they needed a dummy to prove to her that size doesn't really matter when you have the right techniques," Tank added, openly referring to himself as the dummy we all knew he wasn't. Tank was smart, but he liked to play dumb to catch people off guard. So far, it was a decision that served him well in life. Almost no one ever suspected he had enough brain cells to power his mammoth body and think.

Ranger just stared at us all and I could see the wheels spinning as he tried to comprehend what we were telling him. Not only had Bobby and I known about the job as soon as he offered it to steph, but Tank, who was in no way connected to the family dinners Ranger's mind had isolated her existence to, also knew her. He didn't like being on the back foot, and given how long he'd been practically ignoring his social life and paying only minimal attention to the family, I was surprised it had taken as long as it had for him to commit a faux pas of such epic proportions. No doubt he would be working a lot harder to ensure that never happened again.

"This is what happens when you neglect your social circle, Ranger," Tank said easily, suppressing another yawn. "You get out of the loop. Miss big developments. Do you even know who I am anymore?"

Tank's words and tone must have been what was needed to finally break through a layer of the walls Ranger had been erecting around the Carlos we know and love, because he almost submitted to an eye roll. Instead, he let out a tiny, exasperated sigh. "Shut up," he said with little heat behind the command. "I helped you bathe your cats."

It might have been a decent argument if we weren't all aware that the bathing incident he was referring to had happened over twelve months ago. And Tank wasn't about to let him get away with it, either. Probably, I should make sure Tia Maria is aware of Tank's contributions to the cause when I'm updating her on progress made. With how hard he was running with this, she might want to reward his efforts. Then again, if I didn't clue her in to Tank's involvement, maybe I could claim those rewards for myself. It was a difficult choice.

"What are their names?" Tank asked coolly, crossing his massive arms over his chest and levelling a testing expression at him.

"What?"

Bobby and I were looking back and forth between Tank and Ranger like it was a tennis match with challenges lobbed back and forth instead of balls. Huh, somehow we always come back to balls… I'd have to contemplate that later when my cousin wasn't being schooled by his best friend on how to be a good friend.

"What are my cats' names?" Tank reiterated, leaning forward like he needed to be sure he caught Ranger's answer.

Across the desk, Ranger's hands flexed on the arms of the chair, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Tank's smug face. "Mittens…" he started slowly, the confidence in his tone completely false, not that the average person would be able to tell the difference. "Snowball… and Paul."

Tank snorted and relaxed into an easy smile he wasn't much known for. Clearly this new dynamic we'd created with Ranger in the hot seat was amusing him. "One out of three. Not bad."

"Better than I thought he'd do," Bobby admitted, matching Tank's expression, and I couldn't help but grin along with them when Ranger spoke.

"Which one did I get right?"

"No, no," I said, wagging my finger at him. "We're not gonna tell you. You gotta go meet them again and care about their lives, and then you'll figure it out."

He threw up his hands. "I flea bathed them!" he exclaimed. "I care about their lives." But the expression that crossed his face said that he couldn't believe the words that had just left his mouth.

"You turned up on my doorstep wanting my help with a job and I refused to leave until I'd finished bathing them," Tank deadpanned, lifting a single eyebrow at him. "All you did was hand me things when I asked for them."

"Was that not helpful?" Ranger challenged.

He just shrugged, declining to confirm or deny. "I've got two more fur babies since then, so if you wanna be a good cat uncle, you're gonna need to come meet them too."

The snicker that escaped me was perfectly in sync with Bobby's as Ranger let out a groan, dropping his head back against the back of the chair.

"Alright," he said. "Message received loud and clear. I resolve to be more present socially, okay? Now can we please go over the office manager position description to make sure we're happy with it before Steph signs the contract?" He removed a file from the top of the pile in his in-tray and set it on the desk in front of him, flipping it open as he worked to drag himself a little closer in the chair without banging his cast against the solid wood. "Given that she's not military, I think there might need to be a few mod-"

"I need a tea," Tank said abruptly, standing and walking out before anyone could say anything else. "Start without me."

Ranger stared after him for a moment before cutting his eyes to me and Bobby. I just shrugged. "I think you hurt his feelings when you didn't remember his drink order or his cats, primo."