This is just an odd little story that was rolling around in my head after I saw a commercial with a similar receipt theme. All familiar characters belong to Janet.

"Gross, Steph," Ram said to me. "Don't touch that. It probably qualifies as a bioweapon now."

"It only has one boot print where it got folded ... it's fine."

"It was lying on the ground, I don't want to think about how many - or what type of - germs are on it."

I rolled my eyes. "It's a store receipt, not a used condom or something covered in anthrax."

He winced and likely stifled a groan, but he let me have fun amusing myself. We're stuck here waiting to see if the girlfriend of our FTA will produce him. And since Ranger's men are punctual to the point of being unnecessarily early for everything, it isn't like I have a lot of things to do besides eat the chips and drink the soda I just bought. As usual, he got a bottle of water and two protein bars, so he wasn't in any hurry to dig in.

Once we got back into our vehicle, okay one of Ranger's personal vehicles ... a perk of loving, and being loved, by The Boss, I straightened the little piece of thin paper, and out of sheer boredom read what was bought under store manager Kurt Chasm's watch.

"Well ... what's on it?" My partner for the day asked.

"Now you're interested?"

"We've got some time to kill and you've already absorbed whatever cooties were on it."

I turned to him and raised both eyebrows. "Cooties?"

He shrugged his considerable shoulders. "I already said germs, I wouldn't want to be repetitive."

"No, of course you wouldn't."

Each takedown or surveillance job I have to do without Ranger, has given me opportunities to find out just how fun, sweet, considerate as well as protective, these men are. They're also nosy as hell when they're bored, which would be now for him, too. Ranger's guys are prepared, built, and trained, for action and they aren't thrilled when it comes to just sitting around waiting for it.

"It looks like our shopper," I said to him, "bought a bottle of Merlot, pliers, broccoli, glitter, Swedish Fish, Diet Coke, and guacamole."

"What the fuck kinda sense does that make? Excuse the language."

See what I mean about being considerate?

"I keep telling you guys, a swear or two won't kill me."

"But Ranger will kill us if he hears one said where you can hear it."

He has a point. My man doesn't condone swearing in front of a lady ... and for some strange reason he believes I am one. Go figure.

"Fine. To be fair ... I promise I won't swear, either."

He didn't buy it.

"Why do you think someone needs broccoli and pliers?" I asked, trying to picture this customer's life.

"Maybe they needed tool-reinforcements to get their kid to eat it."

"That's a good guess. And the wine?"

"Could be a reward for themselves for getting the vegetable into the kid."

"You eat vegetables all the time," I pointed out, "and you don't need a reward for doing it. Though that smoked salmon/Gouda/sprout thing you choked down on Monday definitely deserved a 'I just ate that!' prize."

"Put enough cheese or hot sauce on something, and it becomes surprisingly edible."

"More like inedible."

"I'm not opposed to wine or a beer, but keeping myself and my friends alive is all the reward I need for anything I do."

I fanned my face with a hand. "I'm warning you ... saying stuff like that will melt even the starchiest panties."

"Jesus, Steph," he said, scanning the interior of the Cayenne like he was searching for a listening device, knowing Ranger the car is no doubt bugged, "don't mention underthings!"

"I wasn't saying mine. You need to relax."

"And you need to not get me shot."

"Ranger knows he's the only guy that will ever get to see my underthings, so he wouldn't shoot you. Besides, this shopper could've had underwear on their receipt and that's what I was referring to."

"They didn't and Ranger knows it."

"Yep, Ranger knows everything," I said, repeating a popular Rangeman mantra. "So we've crossed off something green, something calming, and something potentially painful. What about the candy, glitter, soda, and dip minus the chips?"

"A little kid could've grabbed the candy ..." he said, still watching every car that came in, waiting for the blue Honda that will put a captured tag on this job.

"Or a thirty-something-year-old woman with a sweet tooth like me."

Another shrug. "It's possible."

"And the guacamole?" I asked.

"Is there pita or corn chips on there?"

"Nope. I don't suppose they need the Coke to wash down the avocado mush, that stuff's pretty slimy on its own."

"Why not just get potato chips for a snack?"

"That's an excellent question since they have all kinds of flavors now ... like Biscuits and Gravy, Dill Pickle, and Dark Chocolate-covered ones."

He was now eyeing his snack funny. "These things suck in comparison."

I waved my Kettle Cooked Barbecue chips in his direction. "You can have some of mine. I didn't dig in yet so you don't have to worry about any licked-finger germs or cooties."

"Freeze!" He ordered, when I went to stick my hand into the bag clearly mislabeled 'Family Size'. He leaned forward in the passenger's seat, pulled out his wallet, and slid one of those fast food Wet-Nap packets out of it. "Use this before you touch those. An ER trip isn't on our agenda."

"I never would've pegged you for a germophobe."

"I'm not. Let me put it to you this way ... would you go lick the parking lot right now? Because it's the same thing."

Shit. I glared at him as I snatched the 'moist towelette' from the two fingers he had it sandwiched between, but he only laughed at my expression. It was a really nice sound ... one I don't get to hear very often. I made a mental note to work harder to change that.

When I was done with it, I stuck the opened packet inside my shoulder bag so Ranger's car could stay pristine. "I'm all clean, do you want to share now?" I asked him.

"No, I'm good. I'll just make a cheeseburger or two when I get home."

"Hold on ... you cook? Like you can actually cook/cook?"

"Yeah ... when I can. It's a productive way to unwind."

"How come I didn't know about this?" I asked.

"I thought I'd be safer with you not knowing. After the guys on monitor duty tracked your candy bar run at 2 am when Ranger was in the middle of an apprehension, I figured if you knew I could make fudge in less time than it'd take you to drive to the store, my apartment would be your first stop whenever you're stressed, which could piss Ranger off."

"Hey ... the skip Ranger was after that night is a known psycho, I needed chocolate."

"And if you knew I make a killer mac & cheese BLT, Ramen pizza, or cheesecake brownies?"

I sighed in defeat. "You're right. And you were definitely smart to keep quiet. I'd have been at your door instead of the convenience store ... which is now going to happen so you'd better stock up."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, saluting me.

"Plus, I'd much rather spend time with you than my mom or the cashier at the 7-11 when I need a food-related cure-all. I can bring spoons and guacamole for an appetizer, and we can have wine and Swedish Fish for dessert to commemorate this capture. I'm not sure what the hell to do with glitter, though."

"Sprinkle it in Binkie's Wheaties?"

"No."

"Alright, it's a date anyway."

My cell ringing at that exact moment had my smile getting bigger, but caused my partner to go three shades paler than his I-run-laps-in-the-sun tan he has going.

"Oh crap," he said, knowing like I do that it's Ranger calling.

I got a slight neck tingle - and a tingle a lot lower - while Ram most likely got an intestinal cramp. The guys all look up to Ranger, to the point of hero worship, but they're also scared spitless of him.

"Hiya, Batman," I said when I answered. "What's going on?"

"Your skip is five minutes out," he informed me.

"Really? I thought this could be a waste of time because no FTA would be dumb enough to go near the person who bailed them out. Both of them should know she'd be the first one I targeted."

"He is that stupid, so this should be a standard grab-and-go."

"I'm ready. Ram is, too."

My big, badass, and brave, Rangeguy was now making 'don't mention me' gestures with his hands. I can understand that one, since 'a date' would normally be filed under the header 'Don't ever say in reference to Stephanie', and I've pushed the envelope on that already for saying underwear, panties, and condom. Ranger must be in a good mood because he didn't immediately threaten to beat anyone up.

"He'd better not be too ready," my man said.

"He didn't mean anything by the D-word," I assured the guy I can't imagine waking up or going to sleep without. "I was planning to pick up the broccoli and adding chicken to the list so you'll have something to eat, too. You being with me on any date is a given."

"I make a good stir-fry," Ram chimed in to save his ass.

Not that he had to. I've made sure Ranger will never have to doubt my love, loyalty, or my heart and hormone obsession, with him. But despite how persuasive I've been when I tell him 'I love you', or in showing him just how much I do, he can still turn territorial in the blink of an eye.

"Get your skip and we'll talk food afterwards," my man in black stated.

"I won you over with a green vegetable, didn't I?"

"You won me over long ago with less than the promise of broccoli, Babe."

"Damn," I muttered.

"What?" He asked.

"I can't believe you just made broccoli sound sexy."

"Does that mean you'll eat it?"

"Only if you're willing to feed it to me," I told him.

"Ummm," Ram interrupted, "I'm still here."

I gave him an apologetic smile that I genuinely meant. When Ranger and I talk or are in the same room together, bystanders get caught in the crossfire.

"Your target is turning into the parking lot. Make me proud, Babe," he said before disconnecting.

That's what I needed to hear. Making him proud and making sure he still loves me, are the two biggest motivators for getting me out of bed every morning.

"You ready, Steph?" Ram asked, one hand already on the door handle.

"Yep. And after we get rid of this guy, The Boss and I are coming over for dinner."

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything," he said under his breath.

"You don't have anything to worry about."

"Yeah, right."

"You don't. I'll buy the ingredients on our way back to Rangeman and I'll make Ranger promise to be on his best non-threatening behavior."

"No one can control Ranger's behavior."

"Not completely, no, but have you seen Morelli's or Vinnie's obituary in the paper?"

"No."

"So clearly I have some skills. I'm just giving you a chance to brag about yours now. There he is," I said, spotting the crap car we've been waiting on, "it's showtime."

"You occupy the girlfriend and I'll get him."

"Sure."

That isn't exactly how it played out. The girlfriend got all gooey-eyed in the presence of a real man, my Rangeguy, and our skip turned on her. Seeing her ogle another man right in front of him had Dwayne Lobber calling her all the names I would've shot him for. Although it pissed us off, his preoccupied tirade gave me a clear chance at his wrists. I had him cuffed before he even realized Ram had a partner in crime.

"You really are a fucking asshole, Dwayne. You know that?" Sheila - the girlfriend and bond-payer - yelled at the man she must've liked at some point.

Unfortunately for us, her too tight and way too small tank top couldn't hide the name Dwayne that's tattooed in blue ink on the upper part of her chest. I don't know why, how, or when, their relationship turned into this train wreck, but I didn't have the patience at the moment to care. Sheila decided it was her turn to shout obscenities at her 'better half' as Ram secured him in the backseat of my car.

"You can do way better," said in the general vicinity of both was all the pep-talk I was up for.

Neither seemed like they'd want or expect more than each other, and I'm not about to waste my day trying to convince either that they could become better people if they found better company.

I drove Ram and 'Dwayne the asshole' to the station and he handled our FTA while I gave Eddie the rundown on this takedown as we waited for the capture receipt. My RangeMan for the day did groan out loud this time when I pulled into the lot for Shop 'n Bag and parked.

"You were serious?" He asked me.

"Yup. Hal, Cal, and Junior, should be getting off their shifts soon, we can have an impromptu 'dinner party'. I just need you to tell me what to get."

"I should never have opened my big mouth."

"Your mouth is fine. I'll even help you cook."

"God help me."

"You don't need God for this, you have us. We're a family ... which means no matter how annoying we are, we're always going to help each other out. Whether it's in a Walmart parking lot apprehending a douchebag, or standing shoulder to shoulder in your kitchen, chopping and stir-frying broccoli for Batman."

It took me three decades to find them, but Ranger and his people are the family I've always wanted and desperately needed.