This chapter includes lyrics from the songs: All Too Well (TMV TV), gold rush, and The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift.

The look on Ranger's face was one I'd only seen a few times before. If I had to name it, I'd call it relief. I'd caught glimpses of it before, just peeking out around the edges of his blank mask. Back before I could see through his defenses, after his other heroic rescues, or when he arrived in the aftermath of my brushes with death: Cone, Stiva, The Slayers, the bridge, and most recently Jimmy Evans. This time, the look was partly due to my gratitude, both then and now, and partly for understanding and accepting what he'd shared about his history with Sophia. Old Stephanie would have let hurt and jealousy cloud her judgment, not understanding or accepting why he'd never spoken of it, or her before, nor why he'd gone so far as to tell me last Christmas that he'd never had a relationship or a girlfriend. New Stephanie had the sense to understand he couldn't tell me, bound by the confines of his government contract, and that in his mind, to deal with his loss, her rejection, he held fast to his belief that Sophia, as well as their relationship, belonged not to him, but to Marco Ruiz. He'd locked them away to move on and tried to forget.

I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his, kissing him softly, sweetly, another way to communicate how thankful I was, for all the times he'd rescued me and for choosing to share his past with me now. Feeling the rest of the tension leave his body, I thought back to that night, the last time Ranger had saved my life. He'd hidden the trauma that haunted him, finding me like he had Sophia, and how willing he was to give up everything to save me. After I'd come around, he'd been his old self again, protecting me, caring for me. He'd taken off his own shirt to cover me, held me as I broke, panicking over what may have happened when I was unconscious, and assured me that he'd gotten there in time. He stayed with me when the police arrived, took me home, washed me, fed me, stayed the night, holding me to him, his touch gentle when I sought reassurance and comfort in his body, only able to feel truly safe and whole again once he was inside me. Now it was my turn to offer that to him. Now that I knew all he'd experienced that day, I could fully appreciate how agonizing it had been for him.

I deepened the kiss, pouring everything I was feeling into it: my love, my sorrow for him having to endure that, my gratitude, and my desire for him to see himself the way I did, not as a monster, but as my protector, my avenging angel. I could have said the words and one day I would, but that's not what he needed now. This was the way it was between us. While I was pleased he'd been able to tell me about this part of his past, I knew that my touch, using my body to show him how I felt, was what he needed right now. His lips parted for me, and he groaned as my tongue swept into his mouth, my hands roamed over his chest and arms before sliding up and under his t-shirt, seeking his warm skin. He raised his arms for me as I broke the kiss just long enough to pull off his shirt and my own. Pulling me back to him, he claimed my mouth, as his hands slid behind my back, making quick work of divesting me of my bra. Not yet satisfied, he slid his hands down and inside my leggings, stopping for only a moment to caress and squeeze my ass before continuing downward, pulling the fabric with him. The move forced me to break the kiss and I lifted one knee, and then the other, to assist him in his mission.

Once free of my clothes, I focused my attention on getting him as naked as I was. Working the button and zipper on his jeans, my hands shook, need overwhelming me. Ranger took over, lifting his hips, sliding them down his legs, and kicking them off. There was no time for teasing, no need for foreplay. We were both more than ready, desperate to be joined. Palming my ass, he shifted our position so he sat upright on the couch, his feet on the floor as he lifted me, positioning me over his cock. He let out a low groan as I lowered myself, taking him in deep, all the way to the base, and settled myself in his lap once again. Taking a deep breath, my head dropped back as I exhaled with a sigh, appreciating the feeling that always overcame me when he was once again a part of me, filling the void, and making me feel whole, complete.

My position raised my breasts and Ranger took advantage, latching onto my left nipple, and sucking hard as he rocked his hips into mine. The sensation caused my back to arch further. I drew my hands behind me, grasping his thighs just above his knees to steady myself as I moved with him, the position allowing his cock to hit the perfect spot inside me and put pressure on my clit as I ground myself against him on every downstroke. His mouth switched to my other breast as he gripped my hips, moving mine in rhythm with his own, his pace not frantic, but deliberate, his movements forceful. I was dizzy, lost in the haze of pleasure, pressure building deep within me until it consumed me and I shattered into a million pieces, the force of it robbing me of my breath. My arms gave out and Ranger caught me, wrapping me up in his as I convulsed and writhed as my body spasmed around him. Holding me tightly to him, I was dimly aware of his growl as he thrust up into me twice more, and his body went taut as he spilled himself inside me. I laid my head on his shoulder, limp and boneless in his arms, as we both struggled to regain our ability to breathe. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized it had never been like this, I had never been like this, with anyone else and most likely never would be again, no matter what happened between the two of us in the future. I refused to focus on what was to come, and just be present in the here and now, something I was able to do only because of this man and the number of times he'd been there to save me, to keep me alive.

I felt his heart beating sure and strong in his chest and I sighed in contentment, snuggling into him further, pressing my face into the side of his neck, inhaling his scent, pressing my lips to his pulse point. Raising my heavy arms, I wrapped them around his neck and sighed once again. "Thank you," I whispered, grateful to have had him in my life, regardless of where this was going.

His arms tightened around me before he brought one hand up to cup the back of my head, holding me to him, leaning down to place a kiss just above my ear before expressing his own gratitude, his voice rough with emotion. "Thank you," he murmured. For a long while, we just held each other, enjoying the closeness. His hand trailed down to my neck, tracing the chain of the necklace I never removed, so much a part of me, that I often forgot it was there. It was a replacement for the one Jimmy Evans had broken, the one that had saved my life. At the time, I didn't know Hector had created it just for me, installing a tracker that only he had access to, but also a panic button feature that had been activated when it had been ripped from my neck. The alert went out to all of Rangeman and as the fates would have it, Ranger and Tank had been closest and the first to reach me. While the broken necklace was in an evidence box somewhere in the Trenton Police Station, this one had been on my kitchen counter the very next morning. I put it on and haven't taken it off since. Not only did the wings signify my desire to fly, but served as a reminder that I had my own real-life guardian angel.

I lifted my head and placed a kiss on his forehead before climbing off his lap. Leaning down to grab our clothes that had been hastily discarded, I felt a hand on my ass and Ranger groan behind me. I giggled and bent lower, but gasped when I registered the sting of his hand as he spanked me. While sex with Ranger had always been amazing, exciting, and adventurous, it wasn't until after the end of our arrangement that it sometimes had an edge to it. While some of his late-night visits were about seeking absolution, comfort, and reassurance, others were filled with anger and frustration, resulting in sex that was rougher, more demanding, mixing pain with pleasure. These couplings were heated, and passionate, each of us using our bodies to please and punish the other, an effort to bend the other's will to match our own. After reaching the point of release, we'd come together again, the whole encounter different, softer, sweeter, and resulted in some of the most tender moments we'd shared.

His smack on my ass brought me back to the night of the FBI raid, when his visit revealed the jealousy he'd tried to keep hidden, but boiled over as he stormed into my bedroom before I could change out of the jeweled bodysuit. Watching other men watch me dance, then having to listen to my encounter with Evan Williams, had created a green-eyed monster. Ranger denied it, but I continued to press him on it, throwing it in his face that he had no right to be jealous when he was the one who insisted we didn't have a relationship and that skank had been draped all over him. When he turned the tables on me, insisting I was jealous of Jeanne Ellen, I snapped and flew at him, raising my hand to smack the smug look off his face. Catching me by the wrist, he quickly had me restrained and bent over. When the first blow landed, I don't know which of us was more shocked. He hesitated a beat, only continuing my punishment when I moaned in anticipation of the next blow. The sex that followed had been raw, brutal, and painful in the best way, but what transpired after hadn't been loving or tender.

He'd slipped into the bathroom to wash up and collect himself while I discarded the remains of my costume. His phone had fallen to the floor, and I picked it up as it vibrated incessantly, message after message from Jeanne Ellen flooding his notifications. When he stepped back into the room, I hurled the phone at his head, followed by horrible accusations and my declaration that I was no longer his Babe and he had no right to call me that when he treated me like a common whore.

I shook my head to dislodge the memory, snatched my clothes from the floor, and turned, hurrying off to my bedroom without looking at him. I could feel his eyes on me and knew he wanted to say something, knowing where my mind had gone. While I'd had time to reconsider my words from that night and reverse my decision, the hurt was still there. We'd have to talk about it sometime, but after all that had transpired in the last eighteen hours, I didn't have the emotional bandwidth to deal with it right now.

I cleaned myself up, taking a few extra minutes to fix the damage done to my face with all the crying. I knew Ranger didn't care what my makeup looked like, but it gave me a moment to breathe and collect myself. We could talk about all that had happened between us later. We had other, more pressing matters to focus on now.

Ranger wasn't in the living room, but I heard the sound of dishes in the kitchen and entered just as he was plating up sandwiches. He carried them to the table, and I grabbed each of us a water and followed him. Neither of us spoke, we just ate quietly. Refusing to allow things to get awkward again, I asked, "So what now?"

He paused, water halfway to his lips. "What do you mean?"

I explained, "The way I look at it, we have two cases to solve. Sophia's murder, and find out who made that file appear on my desk."

Ranger thought for a minute, then clarified, "I got clearance to tell you about the case, but I can't talk to your team, and you can't name me as a source of information." He looked wary, like he thought I might get upset about the boundaries he was setting.

I wasn't, so I just nodded. "I'd figured as much. Can you tell me about Daniel Rodriguez?"

"I can tell you his body was found in the dumpster behind the grocery store where he worked." He looked hesitant, like I was going to judge him for what he'd done. I wasn't, but I was surprised at his answer; I figured the man had simply disappeared along with Marco Ruiz. He must have read my reaction because he explained, "I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. After she took her last breath, I cleaned the house of anything that may have had my prints on it, the few pictures she had of us, and the ones she had on her phone." I could tell he was uncomfortable because he didn't pause, he just kept going, in an attempt to get it all out and over with. "I suppose I could have left him there, to be discovered with her, but I didn't want him near her. I wrapped him up in a blanket from the couch and put him in the trunk of my car. I went to my apartment and packed up everything. I knew I should contact my handler, but I didn't. When it was dark, I dumped Rodriguez's body and left town. I needed time to think. They'd have wanted me to stay, thinking this would bond me to the brothers, but I couldn't, I couldn't be there, be him without her." He took a breath and continued, "My handler and everyone at the DEA was pissed. I'd fucked it all up. For a long time after that, I only got shit jobs, they sent me to hellholes, usually to take someone out. Things I couldn't fuck up. I didn't protest, I just did it. It felt like my penance, what I owed the fates for thinking I could just walk away from being Ranger Manoso, the machine, the monster."

My heart ached for him, and I reached across the table to take his hand in mine. He looked at me; I could see he was trying to disguise his feelings again, but I could read the pain written clearly on his face. "So I leaned into it. I made myself the best. Once my reputation had been repaired, other organizations were interested again, but I only do short-term work now. I'll slip into someone else's skin, but not for long." His look softened, and he gave my hand a squeeze. "Just over five years ago, I met someone who made me want to be myself again."

I blinked back the tears his words had brought to my eyes and tried to focus. "I think I can solve the case without your involvement. I can start checking databases for other people murdered around the same time frame. There has to be something we can use to tie Rodriguez to Sophia." He nodded. I thought for a minute, then added, "Odds are this wasn't his first time. Maybe he hadn't meant to kill her, but she fought back. Her death may have been an accident. There may have been more assaults that weren't reported. We can look into unsolved rape cases as well. If we can tie her death to him, my case is closed." I shrugged, not feeling much sympathy for the man. "Whoever killed him doesn't concern me, although most people will assume it could have been her brothers or someone associated with them. If they want to think that, oh well."

Ranger had been watching me the entire time I spoke. By the time I was finished, the hint of a smile appeared on his face. "God, I've missed watching your mind work." I was so pleased with his words, but they pissed me off at the same time, and had to swallow the urge to fire back at him that it was his own damn fault for having to miss me at all. I released his hand and pulled back, trying to calm myself. We'd reached some sort of peace, détente, I don't know. I was trying to focus on the present, but the memories kept coming, and my emotions warred within me. I knew we needed to talk, but not now. Even though my mouth didn't say it, my face must have. "I'm sorry," he said. It looked like he wanted to say more, but we had work to do and that would start a conversation that would not be easy, or simple, and I didn't have the energy right now.

I pushed on. "Okay, so my case is solved, now yours. Tell me about the other things you think are tied into this. Tell me about the military tie-in. Is that different from the government work, the alphabet agencies?"

He studied me for a beat, trying to figure out if I was going to let what he said go, and not pick a fight with him. I was, and he probably owed my therapist a gift basket as a 'thank you.' When he saw that I wasn't going to detonate, he started to explain. "It all ties together, sort of, but they're all separate pieces that funnel into the same thing, if that makes sense?" I nodded. After being at the FBI for nearly a year and a half, I'd started to learn how it functioned. While my department was a little different, I'd seen and heard enough to know that while there were agents who worked in the offices, there were also times that people like Ranger, who called himself a specialist were called in, either for planning or executing an op. I guess through Rangeman I'd been sort of one of those.

"I'm not considered active duty military, more of in an as-needed capacity. Not exactly a contract worker, but similar. Usually, it's leading a team into some godforsaken part of the world to rescue someone, take someone out, or both." He didn't look like he enjoyed telling me this, but it was pretty much what I'd figured. "I plan the missions and get to choose my team. In recent years, there've been requests for just planning, or for some teaching. Until about a year ago. That summer–" He stopped himself, he didn't have to say any more than that, I knew which summer he meant. The summer this all started, when our friendship had ended, replaced with whatever we were now, something I didn't have any idea how to label.

He continued. "Since then, there've been more solo missions, times when I haven't been able to choose my team or have any say in the planning." He frowned. "All of that has led to more close calls. There's new leadership, and I'd attributed the changes to that, but looking at it now, with the other issues, I think it's tied together."

I needed to think for a minute, and process what he'd said so far, so I stood, gathered our plates, and moved to the sink. Thinking I could buy some time by emptying and reloading the dishwasher, I opened it, only to find Ranger had already done it for me. So I rinsed our plates from lunch, as well as the cutting board and put them all in the dishwasher. I quickly wiped down the counter and turned back to the table, but Ranger was missing. I found him on the couch in the living room, Jessica Fletcher purring loudly in his lap. The sight stopped me dead in my tracks. It was so domestic, not what I associated with Ranger. He registered my shock and just shrugged and chuckled as Jessica awkwardly floundered in his lap, rolling onto her back, and presenting him with her tummy to be rubbed. I rolled my eyes at her antics and settled myself on the other end of the couch.

"What else?" I asked, ready to continue. It was odd, for years I wanted to know everything about every facet of his life, but now that he was offering me a peek behind the curtain, I was nervous. It wasn't that I was going to hear something that would change how I felt about him. I may not know everything, but I knew him, and who he was at his core. The issue was that I could see how uncomfortable he was sharing it with me. Maybe he didn't have as much faith in me as I did in him. I didn't like that thought, so I pushed it aside and waited for him to continue.

Ranger looked hesitant, but continued, "With the government work I do, there've been some changes there, too, subtle, but when you add them in with the other things, they stand out more. All the work I do for different agencies is managed by someone else. People don't contact me directly." He started to explain how it all worked, but I interrupted.

"You have a pimp?" It popped out of my mouth before I even realized I was thinking it. At first, Ranger looked dumbfounded at my words and then started laughing, like a full-on belly laugh, his whole body shaking. Jessica Fletcher got annoyed, nipped at his hand, and jumped down, trotting away haughtily. Relief coursed through me. For a minute, I was sure he was going to ship me off to Outer Mongolia. He wiped the tears from his eyes and hauled me onto his lap, planting a big sloppy kiss on my mouth, finishing with an exaggerated smacking sound. When he pulled back, a wide grin graced his face and I stared at him in wonder.

"Only you, Babe," he chuckled. "Here I am, having to relive two of the worst moments of my life and figure out why I'm the target of some serious shit, and you make me laugh."

I was still in awe. "I've never seen you laugh like that before."

"It's all you, Babe. You make me laugh." He was still grinning at me, and I scowled back at him. I hadn't missed being the butt of everyone's jokes like I was back in Trenton. I moved to get off this lap, but he held tight. He shook his head. "Not like that, Babe. I get to be myself with you." He chuckled again. "And you're willing to say things to me that no one else would dare. I've never had that with anyone before." He kissed my nose. A wave of pleasure went through me at his words. A tiny voice in the back of my mind asked, 'Even Sophia?' I pushed the thought away but wasn't quick enough. He still saw it. He took my face in both his hands and forced me to look at him. "Steph, it's never been the way it is with you, with anyone. Ever." He didn't say her name, but I knew what, or rather who, he meant. I needed to get past it, but also knew it wasn't going to happen overnight and would most likely require HHN's help. I just nodded. He still didn't say if the way it was with us was enough for him to change his mind about wanting a relationship.

If he picked up on that thought, he didn't comment. I wasn't sure if I was frustrated or relieved by that. He ran his hands up and down my arms, trying to comfort me, maybe himself too. "It feels good to be here with you, like this, working together." It did. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but now wasn't the time. I slid off of his lap and stretched, needing a little space. Jessica Fletcher had apparently forgiven him and decided to take advantage of the vacancy and hopped up onto the couch and into Ranger's lap again, rubbing her face against his abdomen, wanting some attention. A wry smile crossed his face as he looked back and forth between the two of us, noting yet another similarity. I rolled my eyes and moved to the chair, tucking my legs under me.

I refocused, "Tell me about your–" Before I could say pimp, he interrupted.

"Handler." I nodded and grinned at him. He ignored my teasing.

"The guy I deal with." He thought for a minute then said, "Mr. White," which I assumed was not his real name. "He's like a manager or a booking agent."

"Or a pimp," I added cheekily.

He scowled, but I could tell he didn't mean it. "The government is like any other business or organization. Mr. White is middle-management, who handles several assets, knows their skills and preferences, and gives them their assignments." It sounded more like a Madame, but I didn't say that, figuring I'd already pushed my luck.

A thought struck me. "Does he handle your contract? I mean, I assume you're under a contract, and you have to re-sign every few years? Negotiate your terms." I had no doubt Ranger excelled in this area; I wasn't so sure how well I would do. I wasn't always the best at knowing and demanding my worth, in my personal or professional life.

Ranger nodded. "Yes, among others. I'd say there are at least two tiers of management above him."

"Do you deal with them much?" I was trying to piece things together, looking for the common thread.

He shrugged. "Some, not a lot. I know them, mostly from before they got promoted, and I know some better than others. They're pretty hands-off, more big picture than micromanagers." He thought for a minute, then added, "One of them is actually one of the original Rangeman investors. He's still a silent partner." Pausing only for a minute, he named the man, "Mr. Black. He was my first handler when I started doing this work. I've tried to buy him out a few times, but he hasn't wanted to sell. He said I've made him too much money. I'm a good investment."

I'm sure he was. I didn't know exactly how much Ranger and Rangeman were worth, but I knew it was more zeroes than I'd ever see on my bank statement.

That gave me another thought. "Do you have other investors?"

He shook his head. "No. There were originally five. Most like him, superiors I knew from military and government work, the other was Joe Juniak."

"Uncle Joe?" I asked, surprised. Joe was my godfather; he and my dad had been through school together. When I'd started bounty hunting, Joe had been the Chief of Police but he'd been the Mayor of Trenton for the last few years. Rumor was he was considering a run for Governor.

Ranger nodded. "He was Police Chief at the time, but planning on entering the race for mayor. He knew with the way the city was growing and with budget restrictions, the local PD would be pushed to the limit. He agreed to invest and established a contract with Rangeman guaranteeing a certain number of billable hours each month at a slightly reduced rate." Now that sounded like Uncle Joe. "He let me buy him out early on. With his hopes of a political career, he was worried about the optics of investing in a private security firm, afraid it might look like he didn't have faith in the boys in blue." I nodded; that made sense. I knew it didn't matter that Joe had invested to help the city. Public perception was all people cared about.

My mind went back to the main topic of our conversation. "So how has the government work changed, or what's happened?"

He explained. "Most of the time, it's Rangeman that's contracted. You've worked jobs with us before." My memory went to the last job, the horrible fight, the intense sex, and more recently the dream I had, my subconscious morphing the sexy dance I'd performed into me very publicly fucking Ranger on the stage in front of all of Rangeman and the FBI. Reading my reaction, Ranger raised an eyebrow in question.

"Later," I answered. Like much, much later, like never. Never sounded good.

Letting it go for the time being, he explained the history. "Before Rangeman was established, I did more work on my own, or with a partner. Short-term undercover, a few months at most. At the time, I didn't have the staff to head up an investigation or an op, like I do now, so I'd be brought in after the subject had been identified, slip into a role that put me in a position to get the evidence needed to close the case, pass on information, or extract someone." He hesitated for a beat, then looked down, focusing on the cat as he added the last bit, "Either that or be the one to get close enough to put an end to it." He didn't need to expand, I knew what he meant. Looking back at me, he continued, "In recent years, those jobs have been fewer and further between. I've had the option of turning assignments down, able to decide if the timing was good for me, or Rangeman. There were still times I wasn't given an option."

He was confirming what I'd thought all along, what my imagination had pieced together from books and movies, and the few things he'd let slip over the years. "What's changed?" I asked.

"In the last year, there've been more of the latter, assignments that took me away from Rangeman, where I didn't have any control. I was either on my own…" he paused for a minute. "Or assigned a partner." I waited for him to continue, not sure if this was one of those need-to-know situations and I didn't need to know.

I asked anyway. "The same partner?" He nodded. "And that's not normal?" He was acting strangely.

"We've been partnered in the past, but not this often." I didn't ask who. I figured if he could tell me, he would. Whoever it was, he didn't appear to be pleased about it.

Resisting the urge to press him on it wasn't easy, but I managed. Changing the subject, I asked, "What about Rangeman?" He'd included his company last night when talking about his suspicions. I'd hate to think one of his men was involved. He'd been through that once before when he'd asked me to help investigate. Luckily, none of them had been involved then, and I hoped that was the case now as well.

He looked hesitant, like he was worried about my reaction. I knew what he was going to say and saved him the trouble. "Jeanne Ellen," was my educated guess. I didn't bother to keep my disdain for the woman out of my voice.

He nodded again but didn't comment, waiting to see if I had more to say. I could think of a lot more to say about her but kept it to myself for the time being. "We needed someone, a woman, for certain jobs…" he trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious.

"After I left," I finished for him.

He nodded again. "She was the obvious choice. We tried a couple of others, but neither of them worked out. One was scared shitless of all of us. The other tried working her way through the roster, nearly inciting a brawl. Had to fire Bones and Chet over it." That sucked. I didn't know those two guys well, but the idea that they'd done something to damage the Rangeman brotherhood was upsetting. Not only to Ranger, but to me too.

"So Jeanne Ellen?" I pressed.

He nodded again. "She had the skills and no one wanted to fuck her." While she was gorgeous in a porcelain, bitchy, ice queen sort of way, Jeanne Ellen always acted like all the Rangemen weren't worthy of breathing the same air she did. The only person she ever focused her attention on was Ranger. It was just another reason I hated her. She was not shy when it came to letting everyone know what she wanted from him.

"But she wants to fuck you." The comment slipped out before I could stop it. Guilt washed over his features, and bile rose in my throat at the image that flashed in my mind. Oh, god. I stood quickly, needing to get away from him. I knew what he'd told me at Christmas, but that was four months ago. Maybe things had changed between them. He tried to jump up, to come after me. Jessica Fletcher took offense at his sudden movement and dug her claws in, attempting to keep from falling when he stood abruptly.

"Fuck!" he bellowed and sat back down. She let out a low growl, hissed at him, jumped down, and trotted after me. Good girl, I thought.

I escaped to the kitchen and rummaged in the cabinets, looking for something sweet to soothe myself. Unfortunately, my anxiety over the Mendes case and my suspicion that Marco Ruiz was Ranger had instigated a junk food binge, and I'd depleted my stash on Thursday. I'd planned on stopping at the store on the way home last night, but finding Ranger waiting for me at my car had changed my plans. I was standing on my tiptoes, searching blindly on the top shelf, hoping to find a stray Tastykake from the last care package my mom sent me. Before I even registered his presence, Ranger was at my back, arms wrapped around my waist, his hips pinning mine to the counter. I squirmed against him, trying to dislodge his hold.

"Babe," he tried, but I wasn't listening. He tightened this hold and insisted, "Steph. No, it's not like that. I'm not sleeping with her. I told you before, I've never slept with her."

I stopped struggling, desperately wanting to believe him. It was stupid, I knew it. We weren't together, not really; there was no commitment. Technically, he could have sex with whoever he wanted, but I clung to the hope that he only wanted me. The idea of him with another woman made me ill, but the idea of him with her made me want to die.

"Why not?" I asked, my voice small. "She's perfect for you: beautiful, smart, skilled, cunning. She's Catwoman to your Batman." She's everything I'm not, I thought to myself.

"She's not you," he whispered. His words softened my resolve and I allowed him to turn me to face him.

I knew he was being sincere, but my insecurity persisted. "Before me?" I didn't know how long they'd known each other, but when I'd first met her, she'd implied they had a history. I found it hard to believe they hadn't been together at some point.

"No," he insisted.

"Are you sure?" I asked, not convinced.

He was trying to hide his smile. My question was ridiculous, but I didn't care. The woman could make me feel more inferior than anyone I'd ever met. He humored me anyway. "Yes. I'm sure I've never slept with her."

I wanted to be relieved, but I pressed the issue. "Why not? I'd think she'd be a perfect fit. She's like the female you. You wouldn't have to worry about her safety, and I could see the whole 'no emotional attachment' thing being a plus for her. Plenty of condoms, but no ring." He looked pained, and I felt a little bad for throwing his own words back at him, but not that bad.

He was completely serious when he asked, "Why would I want someone like me?"

I scoffed. "Everybody wants you." It was true; I'd seen just the sight of him stop both men and women of all ages dead in their tracks.

Annoyed, he answered, "Well, I don't. I've known Jeanne Ellen for a long time; she's never made it a secret that she wants me, but I don't particularly like her. She's rude, condescending, and cold. Besides all that, I don't trust her." I guess I could see why he didn't like my comparison if that was how he saw her. "I've slept with women I don't know very well. It didn't matter to me because I'd never see them again, but I'm not going to sleep with someone I don't like or trust, especially if I have to work with them." I didn't want to hear him talk about sleeping with anyone that wasn't me. I knew it had happened, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear about it. So I focused back on the topic at hand, that skanky ass bitch, Jeanne Ellen. I thought back to the last time I'd seen her, at Christmas.

"You let her touch you!" I blurted out.

He looked confused. "What?"

It all came out in a rush, "At Christmas, when you guys came into the bar, before you saw me. She had her hands all over you." A wave of nausea came over me at the memory. The same guilty look I saw that night, the one he'd worn in my living room, crossed his face. I pushed him away, and this time he let me.

I moved to stand facing him, leaning against the opposite counter, folding my arms across my chest, needing to put some space between us. "That look on your face. You had it that night, in the other room, and just now. If you're not involved with her, why do you look guilty?" He didn't answer right away, so I plowed on. "It looked like you were on a date. You never took me on a date. You used to touch me, all the time, but when you were fucking me, everything changed." He winced at my crude description. "When I saw you outside either of our apartments, you acted as if you'd rather be anywhere but sharing space with me. No touching, no kissing. Why? It wasn't sexy, once it wasn't forbidden?" I wiped away the angry tear that threatened to fall, and forged ahead. "But her… you were touching her." I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice.

He crossed the distance between us in two quick strides, invading my space. His voice was insistent. "First of all, she was touching me, not the other way around. I don't like it; she makes my skin crawl, so I just block it out. She's up to something and I don't know what it is yet, so I'm playing along, appeasing her while I work out what she's plotting." My mind immediately latched onto playing along and just what he was doing to appease her and why. But before I could ask him about it, he addressed the question that had plagued me for nearly two years.

"Once I was free to, able to, have you every night, in my bed or yours, I couldn't touch you, not out in public." He saw the anger flash in my eyes and explained. "Before, other times when you were with Morelli, I could touch and kiss you, drag you into the alley whenever I wanted, because that's all I could have of you. I knew it wouldn't get out of hand because you'd put a stop to it, once your guilt kicked in." Shame at my behavior caused my face to get hot. His face softened. "Once there was no reason for you to stop me, I forced myself to keep my hands off you, knowing I wouldn't be able to stop myself, keep from taking you on the spot." I looked at him skeptically. He pleaded for me to believe him. "Babe, you're the only one who can make me lose focus, test my control. I couldn't take the risk."

While that might be how he rationalized his choice, I thought he was denying the real reason and told him so. "Or maybe you did it because that would make it public, a relationship, and you refused to allow that, preferring to keep whatever it was a secret so you could delude yourself into insisting it was just an agreement, an arrangement."

I could see he wanted to argue, but we were getting off track again, so I returned to the bitch. "Tell me about Jeanne Ellen," I said, even though I didn't want to talk about it or her. He seemed confused by my change of topic. "Jeanne Ellen, why are you putting up with it? Why not just tell her to leave you alone and keep her hands to herself?"

"I can't." The guilty look made a return before he tried to hide behind his stupid blank face. I pushed past him, only able to manage it by catching him off guard. Returning to the living room, I took up my spot on the couch again and stewed. Ranger was a badass in black. I didn't believe anyone could make him do something he didn't want to do. I knew I was being irrational, acting like a jealous girlfriend. Technically he could fuck Jeanne Ellen morning, noon, and night, and it wasn't any of my business. The thought made me ill.

Ranger followed me in but had the good sense to sit in the chair and give me some space. He tried to explain. "I've known Jeanne Ellen for a long time. We met through government work, worked ops together, been partners on some undercover jobs. Like I said, she's never made it a secret that she's interested." He made a face. "She has a reputation for sleeping with her partners. Regardless of how I feel about her, that's not something I do. It gets messy, and it's dangerous. I've kept my work life and my sex life separate as a rule."

"Sure you have," I said snarkily.

He sighed. "Babe, since the day I met you in that diner, you've been the exception to almost every rule I've ever had for myself." His words and the look on his face went a long way in soothing my hurt feelings. I just hoped the trend continued, and he'd break that last remaining one for me and admit we already had a relationship. I could do without the ring, and we'd never needed the condom. Before yesterday, if you asked me, I'd have said I'd be happy without children, but our misunderstanding made me question what either of us wanted when it came to having a family. If we ever got our shit together we could figure it out.

"Whenever she came onto me over the years, I declined, and that was that. She'd hook up with someone else. She's not someone who's going to allow me turning her down to affect her ego. It wasn't a big deal because we didn't work together that much, maybe once every couple of years." He paused, and I gave him a nod to show I was still following. "Then a few years ago, she set up shop in Trenton. She approached me about joining Rangeman. I knew having a woman on the team could be useful, but I didn't trust her enough, I didn't want to work with her every day, nor did I want her working her through all of my men and wreaking havoc on morale. Now, with the way she treats them, I don't have to worry about it." Just the thought of it seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth. "She set up her own business, does private investigating, work for insurance companies, and bond enforcement for Les Sebring. After she'd been here for a bit, I heard rumors about the two of us, that we'd been involved in the past. I ignored them. I didn't think they were worthy of a response, plus there've always been rumors about me in Trenton, what's one more?"

He was right. I'd heard the rumors about him and Jeanne Ellen, she'd even alluded to it herself. I'd also heard most, if not all the other rumors about Ranger as well, most of them from Morelli. I hadn't believed them and figured they were fueled by Joe's jealousy. I wondered if my belief in the one about him and Jeanne Ellen was due to mine.

I didn't respond, just nodded as he continued. "Two years ago," he hesitated for a beat. "That summer, I was partnered with Jeanne Ellen on an op. It was a month-long mission, and we were acting as a married couple." The look on this face told me it was not an enjoyable experience. "She was her typical self, but even more persistent. When I declined her repeated offers to fuck me, I chalked it up to the fact that she didn't have any other options because there were no other men on the op."

I remembered when he'd been gone. I didn't even know he was back until he showed up after my car caught fire, the same day I broke up with Joe, and the day he and I started whatever the hell we were now. "When we got back, she started showing up randomly. I'd run into her at the police station, the courthouse, more than before."

I interjected, picking up on something in his tone. "She's the one that they've been partnering you with for the last year?" He paused for a minute, probably weighing how much he could say. He didn't say anything, just nodded. I told him about my interactions with the skany whore, "You're not the only one who kept crossing paths with her." He raised an eyebrow. "That fall, after, you know…" He nodded. "She stole a couple of my skips." His look changed from curious to angry. "The first time, it didn't seem that suspicious, other than the fact it was Jeanne Ellen." Bitch, I thought to myself again. "Hector and I went out to Jonesy's to pick up a mid-level skip. When we got there, she already had him and his buddy face down on the floor, cuffed. His friend was her skip. I didn't like it, but it seemed plausible. The next time, she was walking into the station with one of my skips when I was walking out with Dougie and Mooner. She didn't apologize or offer any excuse or anything. She just gave me that smug, superior look." God, I hated her. I hated her more than Joyce Barnhardt, and that was saying something.

Ranger pressed, "Did it happen again?"

I shook my head no, then remembered the night he was responsible for her crossing my path, "Unless you count someone trying to give her my distraction target." I glared at him.

He didn't bother to try and look ashamed, "Whitehouse was dangerous." he argued.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Most skips Rangeman hires me to lure out of bars are. I had back-up." I couldn't believe we were arguing about this a year and a half after the fact.

Ranger's voice was hard. "Which you handicapped by taking out your earpiece."

"I took it out because you were being a dick; it was distracting," I spit back at him.

He growled. "His charges jumped from rape and assault to murder."

"And?" I pressed him, as all the hurt and resentment from that night came flooding back.

He was insistent. "And I didn't want you getting hurt." He still thought he knew what was best for me, and it still pissed me off.

"So you brought in that bitch? Because you didn't think I could handle it? And she could? Thanks for the vote of confidence." I didn't bother to hide my hurt and anger. Just talking about it brought back the feeling of inadequacy.

He growled again and in a flash was out of the chair and in front of me. Before I could register the movement, he had me up off the couch, my face cradled in both his hands, his eyes intense. "No, because I don't give a shit about what happens to her. But if anything happened to you, especially if I'm the one who put you in danger, I'd never forgive myself." His lips crashed down onto mine and everything came back to me. I was transported back in time to that night, Jeanne Ellen in her slutty white dress, Ranger attacking Whitehouse, hauling me to his car, the fight, him fucking me up against the Turbo, and then I saw it–the flash I'd seen that night as we drove away.

Pulling back from him, I gasped, "She was there, that night, in the parking lot. When we drove away, I saw her dress. She saw us." The guilty look returned, and I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me.

His voice was low and apologetic, and I knew I wasn't going to like what he had to say. "Babe, she was there, and she has a video."