This story is the result of ShellSueD accidentally or purposely putting the song "Come Back" by Pearl Jam into my head. :) All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine.
"What are you trying to prove?" I asked, when Steph finally answered her cell.
"What I've been trying to prove all along ... that I'm a smart, capable, and independent, person."
"I know that you're all of those, Babe. So can you please come back now?" I said into the phone.
"No. I have a job to do. And I'm not leaving empty-handed."
"I could have helped you."
"No ... you would've just sent Tank in our place, and you and I would still be in Jersey with things staying the same."
"What would you like changed?"
"Aside from everything?"
"Would you have agreed to let Tank go, and stayed here with me, if I'd given you a reason to?"
"Look, I can't do this right now. I have to go."
And she hung up.
"Son of a bitch," I swore vehemently.
"You just talk to Stephanie?" Bobby asked, poking his nose into my office as well as into my business.
"What do you want, Brown?"
He put his hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Why the hell don't you just go get her?"
"She's not lost or in need of rescue by me."
"Maybe not, but she is your woman. So why is she in Phoenix while you're sitting here swearing to yourself?"
"Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Yeah, but I think you need me and my advice more than the company needs another capture."
"Fuck you."
"With an attitude like that, I can see why Steph hit the road."
"Leave while you still have legs," I told him.
"You want me to call her? Maybe put in a good word or two and smooth the way for you."
"Go."
"Fine, but for all our sakes, I hope you don't completely fuck this up. You two need to be locked in a room together until you get all your shit worked out."
Having her safely behind a locked door wouldn't be bad. Me being there with her, and us both naked, would be even better.
"Don't make me fuck up your face," I warned him.
"I'm going ... I'm going," he said, realizing I will make him unrecognizable if he doesn't butt the fuck out of my relationship with Stephanie. "Don't let her stay gone too long."
And there lies the problem. I'd like nothing better than to be with her now, but I never want her to equate me with Morelli. If I just show up unannounced at her hotel, she'll believe that I find her incompetent despite what I continue to tell her. At the moment, I have to settle for calling in a favor and having her watched for me. It isn't ideal, but I can't run the risk of her getting injured. Even the most experienced soldier can be taken out by a single bullet.
I accept the fact that my mood won't be getting better anytime soon. Just hearing her voice had been enough to bring back the feelings only she evokes. I thought if I could just keep myself busy, the days would fly by. They haven't. Instead, I find myself checking my watch and my phone constantly, waiting for word that she's on her way back to me. Or, at the very least, that she's on a plane heading back to Trenton.
If she were standing in front of me right now, I'd suck it up and say what I should have said to her a long fucking time ago. I'll never admit it, but Brown is right in this case. Steph and I have to get our shit figured out. There is no doubt in my mind that if I had forced her to talk before she left, she would have stayed behind, not wanting to leave me for any reason ... even a substantial paycheck.
I brought up Phoenix on my cell and fought the urge to shake my head. Figures. It's sunny and in the high eighties in Arizona. Here it's cold and pouring again. Now that I'm suddenly paying attention to it, it's been raining since the day she left. I don't believe weather can mirror emotions, but it will be interesting to see if the sun will be shining once she tells me that she's on her way home.
I never noticed just how much of my time has been taken up by her. And it isn't just her calling me for advice or assistance. I've also been stopping by her apartment after a job or patrol in the area. I have on a few occasions invited her to join me for dinner when we were both free. And I've had no problem letting her hang out with my men for some impromptu training. I've altered my days and my schedule in order to spend time with her and to keep her safe, but she still thinks that I'm only doing it to keep tabs on an 'investment', and am subconsciously hinting that she can't take care of herself.
One day a few weeks ago, when I had outright denied that, she pushed for an alternative reason for my sudden interest in all things Plum, and I didn't have a ready answer for her. So she continues to believe the worst. How can I honestly tell her how I feel about her when I can't seem to put the magnitude of it into words? When she gets back, I'll attempt it, and then I'll make damn fucking sure she never leaves the state without me again.
For now, I'll just keep tabs on her - via Donaldson - and when I do speak to her, she'll know that I'm here for her, thinking about her, and wanting her. That won't change no matter how much distance she tries to put between us.
"You ready?" Tank asked me, stopping at my office on his way to the garage.
"Yes."
I need a distraction from missing her, and beating the shit out of someone has always helped in the past. And it worked this time, too. Dacunto came at me with a needle that had just come out of his arm, so I broke his.
"That's gotta hurt," Tank commented.
"It'll hurt like a bitch once whatever he just injected wears off," I clarified.
The adrenaline rush wasn't enough to completely take my mind off of what's currently half a country away, but it did get me through the day. The nights, though, since she left have been getting progressively worse. When I close my eyes, if I wasn't busy imagining all the ways she could be hurt without me there to protect her, I would be remembering exactly how she felt spread out under me.
I discovered that the only way I can get any rest is to routinely check in with her so I'll know she's okay. Then I can fall asleep picturing her in my robe while mentally mapping out exactly what I'll do and say when I see her again.
On this particular night, she picked up on the first ring instead of the third. I'm making progress.
"Some people could say that you're stalking me," she said, knowing it was me without having to check the number.
"It's not stalking if you appreciate my attention, Babe."
"And you think I do?"
"Yes."
I heard a sigh. "I know admitting it is only going to cause us trouble, but I really do like your attention being directed my way."
"You saying that will only cause the best kind of trouble. Are you ready for me to show up at your doorstep?" I asked.
"I'll be back soon, and then we'll talk. Okay?"
Oh, we'll definitely talk. The fact that I feel that she's right beside me instead of miles away, speaks to the connection neither of us has been able to break. Maybe we're both ready to finally acknowledge what we have rather than fight it like we have been.
"My door is always open, Steph. You just have to step through it."
"I don't remember things ever being that easy between us."
"Did I tell you that I can't sleep without talking to you first?"
There was a pause, followed by a soft sigh. "Neither can I," she admitted.
"You will be coming home to me."
"Ranger ..."
"It's a simple statement, Babe."
"For you, maybe."
"It will be for you, too," I promised her. "In the meantime, stay safe."
"I'm pretty sure one of your guys is taking care of that for me."
I'm not surprised that she spotted Donaldson. Her skills and instincts can be considered unorthodox, but they are effective.
"You do, but he's been told to only step in if your life is in danger. Your capture is yours alone."
"Thanks. I'll call you when I do catch Valiente." And she disconnected.
After that assurance, I was able to get some sleep. But the dreams I've been having the two nights since that call were getting more vivid and feeling more realistic. The one that I'm currently in the throws of had Steph speaking softly to me while her fingertips slid down the bare skin of my chest.
Years of training and field operations have drilled into me the importance of being an extremely light sleeper, so I know this isn't real ... it's just the most recent form of torment I have to endure. I believed that up until I felt the bed dip slightly beside me and lips skimming my ear.
"I came back," she whispered into it.
I kept my eyes closed in case this was just another dream I don't want to wake up from, but the worry and eventual hurt in her next words were too real to explain away.
"You should be awake by now ... are you okay? Or are you just pretending to be asleep because you weren't serious about your door being open to me?" She asked.
Her thinking that I don't want her here is completely unacceptable to me. And that propelled me into action. In one smooth move, I snaked an arm out and around her, and flipped us both so she was pinned beneath me.
"Jeez! No wonder Tank told me that it isn't a good idea to wake you up," she said, her eyes wide and still frozen in surprise. "Your reflexes are scary."
"They're not as scary as they will be if you try leaving me again," I warned her. "Why were you speaking to Tank instead of me? You promised to call when your job was done."
"Since you're always breaking into my apartment, I thought it'd be fun to do the same to you."
I lowered my head and gave her a very thorough kiss that she'd think twice about running away from again.
"I gave you a key fob to this place, Babe," I said, when I lifted my head. "You don't have to break in."
"Tonight still counts. I'm here and you didn't know I was coming."
Her smug grin had me kissing her until her arms and legs were securing me to her. She will be coming again soon enough, and she won't be leaving my sight - or my bed - until I'm ready to let her.