Everything and everybody familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine.

Damn, that's going to leave a mark, I thought to myself, as the skip's sucker punch bounced off my cheekbone. Son of a bitch are the words that quickly followed, because I have a hot date with Ranger planned for tonight. And now I'll probably have to cancel, judging by how my face suddenly feels. There probably isn't enough concealer in my bathroom to cover this one.

"You're going to pay for that," I told my POS skip. "You just ruined my night, so it's only fair that I ruin yours."

And I fired a 'warning' shot, taking off a chunk of his foot. At least, a warning shot is what I repeatedly mentioned to the nurses and doctors in the ER. The colors my cheek had started turning in the time it took to get from Allard's house to St. Francis, supported my claim. I really wanted to aim at his crotch, but I'm not a good enough liar to make up a plausible story justifying the castration of a dick. And Arto Allard had been a huge dick to me from the second he opened his door.

His juvenile flirting quickly turned into sexual aggression when he realized that I wasn't falling for his baggy-jeaned/stained tank top encased body or his 'clever' innuendos. Why would I? I get to have Batman in my bed whenever I'm brave enough to let him ... which won't be tonight damn it. My anger at Allard returned tenfold. I really should've used three bullets and shot his fucking balls off, too.

Surprisingly, one thing went my way after all. Richards, a relatively new officer at the TPD, was also at the hospital questioning a victim, so I got to be free of my FTA sooner than I thought I'd be. Not soon enough, but at least I don't have to listen to him whine the entire way to the station. Now I get to focus solely on telling Ranger that I'm staying in tonight. Sometimes it really sucks to be me. Then again, I suppose having him interested in me in the first place is worth one or two messed up nights.

After I was told by a medical professional that my cheek is bruised - like I don't know that already? - I headed back to my apartment. I was given a prescription for painkillers, but I don't need those. I can dull the ache with my own patented way of treating all kinds of pains. I cracked open a box Butterscotch Krimpets and filled a wine glass to the brim with Malbec, before changing out of my skip-infected clothes.

I put on my cropped Ranger's hockey jersey and a pair of small, black shorts. Rex doesn't care what clothes I choose, and he's the only guy who'll be looking at me tonight. I polished off a second Tastykake, grabbed my wine glass and my phone, and put Ghostbusters on the TV. Then bit the bullet and called Ranger.

I sighed as he answered on the first ring. I really don't want to do this, but I know if he sees my face right now, I'll end up with a permanent Rangeguard on me. I don't mind backup if I need it, yet if it's ordered for me because I did something stupid, I automatically get angry and defensive because I feel babied and incompetent. I've been doing good on my own until today, when I felt Arto's hairy knuckles connect with my face.

"Babe."

The deep voice slid over me, beginning at my ear and settling in a place that won't be seeing any action tonight.

"Ummm ... I'm just calling to tell you that I'm not going to be able to go out tonight," I said into the phone, mentally cursing Allard again for fucking up my big night.

"You canceling on me?" He asked.

"No. No! I just need a raincheck."

"Why?"

Crap. If I say I'm injured, he'll stick to me like glue for the foreseeable future. Hmm ... if Ranger is the one hovering over me, that may not be such a bad thing after all.

"I'm waiting," he said, with an impatient tone.

That's interesting, since he's usually the king of patience.

"I don't think I should be seen in public for a few days."

"Bad haircut again? Too many doughnuts?"

"Very funny."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing really. I just want to make sure we'll be able to have our date another time."

"What are you trying not to say?"

"Jeez. Has anyone ever told you that you're a little paranoid?"

"Stephanie ... just tell me." He paused, and I could hear some paper being moved around before he came back on the line. "You went after Allard this afternoon ..."

"Yep. I caught his ass, too."

"And ...?"

I sighed. "But he managed to deck me first. I'm fine, though," I quickly added.

There was nothing coming from his end of the phone. No talking, no more paper rustling, or even breathing as far as I can tell.

"Ranger?" I asked.

"I'll be over in ten minutes."

"I swear I'm okay."

"I want to see that for myself." And he hung up.

Shit.

I tipped my head in Rex's direction. "Looks like we're getting company tonight after all."

It didn't seem like he cared about me, Ranger coming over, or anything else, until I got up and put a grape and some stale Cheerios in his food dish. While I was on my feet I considered changing, but Ranger has seen me in worse, so I left what I had on. I did make an effort to keep my cheek swelling down, though, by taking the bag of frozen peas out of my freezer and pressing it to my face.

They are currently the only vegetable in my apartment, and they're almost as old as Rex is. I really have no use for them except one, they make a convenient cold compress whenever I have a day like this one. I'm convinced that if I'm ever brave enough to open up the bag, I'll find fuzzy, gray pellets instead of the 'farm fresh' peas that are pictured on the label. I've thawed and refrozen them too many times over the years to have kept track of.

That's how Ranger found me. Peas held to my face with one hand, and a wine glass being directed to my mouth with the other. I'm choosing to believe he had been thoughtful in picking my locks so I wouldn't have to drag my ass to the door to let him in. I purposely blocked out the times in the past he's broken in for no reason.

"How bad?" He asked, joining me in the living room.

But instead of letting me answer, he took the peas and my glass away from me, then scanned my face.

"Your eye isn't black," he noted.

"Not yet. And hopefully not tomorrow, either. What did you just walk away from?"

"Nothing Tank can't handle without me. How did this happen?"

"Apparently guys get real pissy when you don't immediately strip naked and pounce on them when they give you a little attention."

"He was hitting on you?"

"Yeah, but he found out real fast that I wasn't interested."

"So he hit you instead."

He didn't make it a question.

"After I called him a not-so-nice name, and right before I shot him."

Ranger's lips twitched. It wasn't amusement exactly, more that he's proud that I'd retaliated and defended myself.

"And he's where now?"

"The station. Richards was at the hospital and he took the jerk off my hands."

I could almost feel Ranger's disappointment in not being able to 'talk' to Allard himself.

"I hope you didn't have anything special planned," I said to distract him. "I don't want to be on a date with you and have the Burg assume that my association with you is the reason behind my Technicolor face."

Ever since Joe and I broke up, Burgers have been salivating for dirt on Ranger ... the sole reason for the Plum/Morelli breakup in their opinion.

"You wouldn't have been anywhere near the Burg tonight, Babe, but it can wait. We can still have our dinner date."

"Here?" I asked. "I know you don't like Tastykakes, and that's all I have. Oh ... there is a little peanut butter left in the jar. You'll eat that, won't you?"

"Only if my survival depends on it. I can make a call and have something you'll enjoy delivered within the hour."

"Really?"

"Yes. What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything not containing peanut butter will be a nice change."

"That leaves plenty of options. Why don't you pour me a glass of that," he told me, nodding towards my wine, "while I place the call."

"Ella?"

"No. There's a guy who owes me a favor, and he also happens to know his way around a kitchen."

"You don't have to put him through any trouble. We can order Chinese food or just go out another night."

"Pour the wine and let me take care of dinner."

I shrugged. I tried. If he wants to call in a favor for me, I won't stop him. Just the thought of spending the evening with him has lifted my mood dramatically. I took myself and my peas to the kitchen and put them back in the freezer before pouring a much smaller amount of Malbec into a second wine glass.

Ranger was just ending his call when I walked back into the living room.

"Dinner's a go," he told me. "It'll be arriving soon."

I looked down at my hang around the house clothes. "Maybe I should go change again."

"No."

"You really want to be staring at my belly button while we eat?" I asked, even though my jersey really doesn't show that much skin.

"I'd rather be staring at your naked breasts over dinner, but I'll settle for your navel for the time being."

"You're planning on staying past dinner?"

"Yes. Are you okay with that?"

"Uh-huh."

How can I not be?

We settled ourselves on the couch, and Ranger drew my bare legs over his thighs. I couldn't help but think 'screw dinner' so we can stay like this, but I am interested in seeing what he'd decided on to eat. Though the fingertips skimming over my skin has me imagining something more satisfying than a good meal.

"Tell me what went on today," he said, while his hand wandered higher than I expected it to go.

I filled him in on my day and my capture, editing out the parts I knew he'd find upsetting.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" I asked, when his fingers started toying with the material of my shorts.

"I don't have to 'try'. If I want you seduced, you will be."

Damn, he's good. I'm already eighty-five percent there and he hasn't even done anything except touch my legs.

When the knock sounded at my door, I was sorry for the interruption ... and really sorry that Ranger's hands left my body.

"That was quick," I said as Ranger stood.

"Cletus works fast," he informed me.

"Cletus?"

"Don't let the name fool you. He has worked with the CIA."

"Which CIA? Culinary Institute of America or Central Intelligence Agency?"

"Both at different points in his life," he said, and opened my door.

I don't have a fancy dining room or a huge table, but Cletus made the cluttered room and second hand crap I do have look good.

"He's a friggin' magician," I told Ranger, when the super-secret, super-quiet cooking operative left us to our meal.

I was still staring in disbelief at the tablecloth, candles, and roses covering my table. There's even silver serving dishes that are hiding what will no doubt be something delicious.

"This isn't magic. He just knows what he's doing."

"Like you?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What are we having for dinner?"

"You tell me."

I lifted the cover off of the dish Ranger had indicated was mine, and I stopped myself just in time so I wouldn't moan out loud.

"Fettuccine Alfredo with sausage?"

"And for dessert, tiramisu better than what you get at Rossini's."

"You had Cletus recreate our meal from Marsilio's that time I was being stalked by Cone?"

"Yes. With the exception of the strawberry scallop salad. You really need to eat more fruits and vegetables, Babe."

"Someday."

"Today," he said.

If you mix the green stuff with something that tastes good, I can choke it down without complaining too much. Ranger must have figured that out, and that's why he added that particular salad to my pasta dish. Of course, he showed off by eating salad plus his fat-free chicken breast and grilled vegetables. As I scraped up the last of my dessert, I noticed his eyes lingering on my mouth.

"What?" I asked.

"You know exactly what I'm thinking about."

"Getting me into bed?"

"Always."

"Even though I have a rainbow face?"

"Yes. Probably more so because of it. I don't like the thought of something happening to you."

"I won't break," I promised him.

"I know, that's what makes you even more attractive to me."

"Stop! I can't take much more Romantic Ranger."

"Romantic Ranger?"

"You're hot as hell just standing still, but you're lethal when you get like this."

"Like what?"

"Never mind," I told him.

"Babe."

"Okay, I mean when you let a little emotion poke through the superhero facade."

He stood and wrapped his fingers one by one around my wrist, pulling me out of my chair.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" He asked.

"Because I knew you'd shamelessly exploit my weakness."

"And how would I do that exactly?"

"Probably by kissing my neck like you're doing now."

"I'll keep doing it then."

"Ranger ..."

"No talking, Babe, unless you want me to stop."

Do I want him to? When his hands slid under my too short shirt, I had my answer. I really don't want him to stop. Ever.

"Steph ...?"

"We're in total agreement for once. No talking is necessary here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You dropping everything to check on me after I told you that I'm fine, is a good indicator of your intentions."

"My intentions?"

I smiled. "Yup. You care about me, and you can't hide it."

"Never tried to."

"I guess I should finally stop trying to then."

"Are you saying you're ready for more than an occasional date?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking about us a lot lately."

"What changed?"

"Nothing's really changed. I just realized how often you put me, my safety, or my needs, before yourself or your own plans."

"I've always been - and will continue to be - more concerned about you than me."

"Don't think I haven't noticed. I'm just slower than you are at acting on it."

"But you are now?"

"Yes. So ... what are you waiting for?"

"You to stop talking," he told me.

"I was just about to tell you that I also love you, but if you want me to shut up ..."

His mouth caught the last of my words, but that's okay. We said all that we need to for the moment, and now we get to move onto more urgent matters. Ranger lifted me without breaking lip contact and carried me into my bedroom.

Having a meal prepared just for you by an award-winning chef doesn't happen very often, but neither does getting to fall asleep in Ranger's arms. I have a feeling at least one of those occurrences is about to change for me.