All familiar characters belong to Janet. Mistakes are mine alone.
"I thought you were dead," Ranger said to me, a millisecond after having his way with my locks and letting himself into my apartment, depositing my rescued belongings on my counter. "If your sneakers didn't put you on your way here, things would have gotten ugly quickly."
I managed to flop my head to the left in order to watch his approach, waiting to answer until he sat down so close beside me our thighs were touching.
"As you can unfortunately see, I'm still alive. This is a bad time for an autopsy. I just ate half of a still-frozen cheesecake. I've got cuts everywhere. And I'm already two glasses into a bottle of really cheap wine. The medical examiner will correctly guess what a crappy life I have if I died right now. You could say I can't give her the satisfaction of being right about me being a fuck-up by being toes up."
He wasn't nearly as amused as I'd been when that exact thought ping-ponged across my mind. Instead, he stayed silent and started pushing up the sleeves on my now holey sweatshirt.
"Hey! What're you doing? You're making me cold!"
"What caused all of these?" He asked, looking down at the dried blood and jagged red marks breaking up the solid anemic-tone of my skin. "And if they're from a who, he's going to be the one dead very soon."
"I think the easier question is which thing came from what? My busted knuckles are courtesy of the tire I tried to change like you showed me before I gave up when I couldn't crack its nuts to get the nail-deflated thing off my POS. The rashy-looking areas on the undersides of my forearms are from me tripping and grinding myself into the asphalt twice, before and after I abandoned that piece of crap. You can't see them, but the scrapes on my knees are from the second fall where I landed on them first during what was supposed to be my walk - not stumble - home."
"And these?" He asked me, sliding a thumb carefully over a few of the deeper cuts bisecting my forearm.
"This one," I said, pointing to what's more a gouge than a cut, "is from getting my sweatshirt and a wad of skin caught in that thing that catches and latches the car door. Which happened a second after I gave up on my engine turning over just when I'd decided I'd get myself home on three tires if the fourth one wanted to be a dick to me. You were right again. My shitbox didn't have even one mile left in it. Didn't have any get up and go left in its crappy engine either."
"What aren't you telling me?" He asked, skimming his lips over the areas of damaged skin.
"That I'm stupid for not just taking a deep breath and calling you for a ride, rather than stomping off in a depressed rage which ultimately had me leaving my shoulder bag and cell behind? I realized a mile down the road that I had nothing with me, but I wasn't about to double back and try to break into the thing that had just done its damnedest to break me."
"Babe."
"Fine. The cat scratches aren't from the fall or a feline, but from my FTA. He had a Swiss Army knife and tried to use it when I went to cuff him. Now that I've had time, wine, and a two-pounds of cake, I can find the bright spot in my day. I was able to dump that fucker off at the station before my car went to the big junkyard in the sky. So at least I wasn't left stranded with him, though fresh air would've done wonders for his obvious BO issue. My nose hadn't fully recovered until you and your evil shower gel-scent showed up."
The way Ranger's muscled-body went from hard to rigid, was quick to tell me that I should've kept my fucking mouth shut. There really was no sense in us both being pissed off today.
"Was it Vinnie's skip or mine? I know you were set to go after one of each. I was in meetings all day and only got word that you appeared to be staying stationary in your car that was on the side of the road at the same time your personal trackers put you heading here."
"Sorry about scaring you. It was Vinnie's skip. Rangeman has a higher class of douchebags that I obviously didn't attempt to capture today. I just wanted to come home and forget that anything crappier than this apartment exists."
Being Ranger, he didn't go for the typical 'suck it up' or 'things will get better' platitude crap. He stood up and headed towards Rex.
"Uh ... the only way this day can get worse is if you kill Rex," I said, not completely covering up a nervous wobble in my voice. "I'm getting worried."
He picked up my roommate's glass casa before turning back to me. "Pack a few things. You're coming home with me."
"You didn't even buy me dinner first," I tried out, attempting to use humor to diffuse my sudden bout of the 'Oh Shit!'s.
"I can stop and get you something on the way, or I can ask Ella to make you something special once you're cleaned up. Your choice."
"I was kidding. Sort of. What's going on here?"
"You're not in a good mood and you're hurt. I intend to mend both issues and make sure you're comfortable in the process."
"That's sweet, but it's not your job to fix me."
"I disagree. Go pack."
"You're bossy," I reminded him.
"I am. I'm also the man who loves you, and the one who needs you to be alright so I can continue to be."
If I didn't already love him, that confession would've sealed the deal. "Give me a sec," I told him, heading to my bedroom.
I grabbed a week's worth of clean clothes from the pile I'd dumped on my chair instead of putting away, and I quickly shoved everything into a duffel bag. I decided to add boots and black heels that would offset the sneakers I have on, so footwear will be covered no matter the situation or date Ranger put me in. I'd bet anything the heels in both have also been fitted for tracking chips. A set of my preferred hair care items, plus period products, are taking up a drawer and a cabinet in Ranger's bathroom, so I just grabbed my makeup and headed back to him as I jammed its case into my bag before zipping it closed when I was standing in front of him again.
"Okay, I'm ready to enter the Bat Cave," I told him, after I slid on my coat and used my left hand to hold my duffel bag and shoulder bag so I'll be able to get the door for him and Rex.
"Seven isn't the Bat Cave, Babe, but you'll see it soon enough. And it will be forever."
Gulp.
I didn't say anything as I opened my front door for them. I was busy thinking that we're well on our way to something new, but I did manage to stop just short of plowing into Morelli. Ranger's super-chivalrous and always let's me go ahead of him unless we're on a capture, but I suddenly wished he weren't such a good guy. Though maybe it's a good thing I am between the two. Ranger being in protective-mode, while Joe remains stuck in the dickhole-zone, is a deadly combination.
I haven't seen or heard from the jerk until today when he wanted to be an asshole and rub in how bad and stressed I looked at the station. Guess the predator in him sensed a weak moment and was hoping to exploit it. I was never happier to have Ranger speak for me. I was tired of everything and Joe is the epitome of everything wrong in my life ... had been wrong before Ranger showed up and showed how much he cared about me.
"Stephanie's not interested in anything you want from her or want to say to her," Ranger informed him.
Morelli ignored him and got me in his sights. "I came to check on you, Cupcake. You can tell the psycho to leave now."
"Alright. Joe ... leave. NOW," I ordered the real psycho. "It's been so long, you must've forgotten that I don't take orders from you. Though I suppose it doesn't matter what you do, because Ranger and I were leaving anyway. I would say it was good seeing you, but it isn't and never was."
"Where are you taking Rex?" He asked, stalling to keep us here.
"To my place so he won't miss Stephanie," Ranger told him, using his body to block Joe's view of mine. "Your 'concern' is unbelievable and not needed or wanted. I'm taking good care of Steph and her rat."
"You wasted no time ..." he began, but Batman cut him off.
"I waited for the perfect time. Let's go, Babe. I don't suggest coming back here, Morelli. My men will be policing the place despite Stephanie not returning to it. She's already committed forever to me and I'm not about to let her out of it."
My gulp was so dramatic this time, I almost choked. "Ummm ..."
Ranger looked at me. "Do you have a problem with what I said?" He asked.
I didn't hesitate. "Nope. In fact, I suddenly feel like I have no problems at all anymore." Likely for the last time, I looked for a beat at the door leading to my crappy apartment before I juggled my bags and used my free arm to curl around Ranger. I said a final "Bye, Joe" and then whispered a private ... "Helllllo, Range Man."