Disclaimer: Not mine. Although, in an alternate reality, I do believe my name was Janet E. And I did own Ricardo Carlos Manoso.

Four days. It had been four days. They'd been in the off-again stage of their relationship, and he was seriously debating whether or not he needed to end it for good. He'd been leaning toward asking her to marry him. Even then he'd known he wouldn't be buying a wedding ring. They occasionally had those bouts of marriage lust, but it never amounted to anything. He just hadn't thought it would be like this.

She'd been kidnapped. Joe had been so sure that, now that she was working for Ranger, and not out in the field, she'd at least be protected. There would be no more psychos after her.

This had been one of Lula's psychos. And now Lula was insane with worry. Hell, everyone was insane with worry. Pepto Bismol had lost its effectiveness two days ago. Ironing wasn't working. The TV had been turned off, no one was a horse for the day, Vinnie hadn't entered his office since it all began, and no one had gone to see viewings. Connie's nails weren't painted. Even Ranger was out of whack. He hadn't slept at all, Joe could tell. Sometime the night before, standing in the control room on the third floor of the Haywood offices, Ranger had told Morelli to get some sleep, and he hadn't bothered to refuse.

So when Ranger finally found a possible place to keep captives, he'd spent about ten seconds regrouping before he was out the door. Joe had stared at him for a moment, and in that span of seconds it was agreed that Joe would go with him.

Every SUV in the place was occupied and speeding down the street, attempting to follow Ranger, and suddenly, Joe was glad that Ranger had millions of possibly stolen trucks and SUVs.

And who cared if Ranger was going thirty miles over the speed limit? This was Stephanie Plum they were after.

The entire entourage were out of their seats before their breaks were engaged, kicking open the front door, running around back just in case, guarding any window possible of getting out of.

Joe took the second floor as Ranger moved quickly and efficiently through the first.

His heart, beating a million miles a minute as he pushed open doors with his gun held out before him, stopped beating altogether when he heard the gunshot.

Then he was scaling the stairs three at a time, pushing past men two feet taller than him in an effort to find the source of the noise.

Ducking under Tank, who had stopped at the edge of the doorway to the kitchen, he too stopped when he realized what was happening.

A man lay on the floor of the kitchen, obviously dead. Lula's psycho.

Stephanie was leaning heavily against a table in the middle of the room as Ranger used something most likely illegal to cut the cuffs on her wrists. He watched in silence as the bracelets fell to the floor, completely unnoticed. Ranger, his eyes sparkling suspiciously with what might or might not have been tears, took Stephanie into his arms, speaking in quick Spanish, saying things that made Tank's eyes widen in astonishment. He didn't catch all of it, but what he did was easy to make sense of. "Mi solamente…mi amor…te querida…"; they were all very much indicators of how Ricardo Carlos Manoso felt at that moment.

His grasp was tight, but Stephanie clung even more tightly to him, sobbing into his chest even as his muttering stopped, and he kissed the top of her head.

When her cries finally ebbed, Ranger spoke in a voice meant only for Stephanie's ears. It was soft and emotional, one he doubted many ever heard. He felt like he was invading on a very private moment.

"I thought you were dead. I saw you lying there and I thought you were dead. I thought…I hadn't made it in time. You were just…"

"I thought I was dead too. Or dreaming. He just took me, Ranger. And I didn't know if you would realize it. He said no one would find me, and I was so sure…I was so sure that—."

He hushed her, his voice too quiet for Joe to hear now, and he gently rocked her, his arms never loosening. Occasionally, he would catch a few of the words being spoken, but in his own ears, they made no sense to him.

Tank was the first to alert the two to the presence of others. He coughed covertly, his gaze resting on the two. Morelli continued to stare at them, unbelieving.

When Stephanie finally looked up at him, he knew he'd never been it. Through everything, Ranger had supported her, while he tried to make her get a new job, or ditch her friends. Ranger had loved her, unconditionally, through all the stupid mistakes she made, and through every mishap, through every exploded car.

Joe wanted her to change. It had taken this, seeing them together like this, for him to understand it. Ranger saw Stephanie completely, whereas he, Joe, could only look at what he was willing to see.

His eyes stinging with something he refused to define, Joe turned and left the room, moving blindly through the halls, to sit on the doorstep of the house, waiting for the rest of Trenton PD to make it to the scene.

He was there on the wedding day. He'd gotten the invitation months ago, and he'd procrastinated on responding to it for a week before he picked up the phone and called the number—their number—and waited for someone to pick up. It had been an elderly woman with an accent who answered, and the yelling in the background had been a mix of Spanish and English. He'd heard children screeching, pots clanging (an angry reprimand in a deep male voice followed), females giggling, and plates being set on tables. When he asked for Stephanie, the voice seemed lighter, as if the name had some way of making this woman happier. He was told to wait a moment, and in those ten or twenty seconds, he was tempted to hang up and never call back.

"Hello?"

Her voice was jovial, and he could almost see the smile behind it. He didn't answer right away, thinking that if she thought no one was there, she'd hang up. And he'd never have to call back.

"Is anyone there?"

A beat.

"Hi," he answered, his voice shaky.

"Joe! Hey! What's up?"

"So…I got your invitation."

He could almost feel the smile that he knew was permeating the room. "Yeah. I would have told you earlier, but it's been so hectic lately…"

"Yeah. I know how it is."

"So…can you come? I mean, as long as you don't have a case then, which I would totally understand…I mean, we've invited practically all of Trenton PD, I'm sure not everyone will be able to make it…I'm rambling. Sorry."

"You're excited. That's okay."

There was silence for a moment, then a low rumble close to the receiver. "Who is it?"

"Joe," came the whisper back.

"Can he come?"

"We were getting to that. Hey! Stop that! I…Ranger, stop! I have to talk."

"So talk." It was muffled.

"Yeah. I'm definitely excited. Mary's having a blast." After a moment, she added, "I'm letting her pick the bridesmaids dresses. It seemed the only humane thing to do."

He chuckled despite himself, and Bob, watching him, his chin against the arm of the chair across from where Joe sat, gave a short bark, his ears perking.

Stephanie heard it. "How is Bob?"

"Surviving. He ate one of my Nike's last week. I had to get his stomach pumped."

"Yuck."

"That's Bob for you."

"Yeah."

The same voice, further away this time, whispered again. "Ask him."

"Oh! Right, so…can you make it?"

He almost said no. It was on the tip of his tongue, but then he had a sudden flash of her smile, the one that made his heart beat a bit faster than usual, for reasons that had nothing to do with how attractive it made her look.

"Yeah. Definitely, I can come."

"You can? Good! That's good."

"Yeah. It is good."

Silence. And then a yell too far away for him to hear. "Oh, Joe, I'm sorry, but I've got to go. Dinner's calling."

"Yeah, okay. Cool."

"I'll see you soon. We'll have dinner or something. Just the two of us, to catch up."

"Can't wait."

"I'll see you, Joe. It was nice to hear your voice again."

His throat seemed dry. "Yeah. You too. Bye."

"Bye."

And they did have lunch. They caught up, she talked to Bob, they watched a Ranger's game. They went to Pino's. He almost told her he still loved her. But then someone mentioned Ranger, and her face lit up, and everything about her seemed instantly changed. She was even more beautiful.

She was a gorgeous bride, resplendent in white. The dress she wore was given envious looks, her hair talked about for weeks after. But all he saw was the way Ranger watched her as she walked down the aisle. Joe knew he never would have looked quite that way. He knew Frank Plum wouldn't have shaken Joe's hand quite as fiercely. He knew his grandmother wouldn't have hugged Stephanie quite as tightly as Grandma Manoso did. His sisters wouldn't have looked quite as happy to see their brother finally married off to the woman he loved.

Then he found himself at the reception, watching Tank give the least tacit speech anyone had ever heard from him. He stayed to watch the bride and groom have their first dance. And then he watched them sneak out the door, as everyone else started the Chicken Dance.

And then Joe left too.

He was there when Ranger found out Stephanie was pregnant. They'd stayed friends, and when he'd finally gotten the nerve to tell her he was dating Sherry from Homicide, she was happy for him. She'd been all smiles, glancing at him with this smirk, like she knew something he didn't.

They'd spent the day hanging out. They had a ritual by then, which started out at ten. Coffee and a donut at Dunkin' Donuts, walking Bob in the park, a game, and then Pino's. Joe had noticed that she seemed off color, and when she'd thrown up in the Dunkin' Donuts restroom, he'd told her to go home. She'd done it three more times that day, the last time at Pino's (the moment she got the first good whiff of pizza). He'd called Ranger, telling him that Stephanie was being a pain, and she was sick, and Ranger needed to come pick her up before she hurt herself. Ranger had asked what she'd done to make him think she was sick.

"She's thrown up four times," he'd answered. Ranger had disconnected, and ten minutes later he was through the bathroom doors, hugging Stephanie, and Stephanie was laughing, and crying, and then so was Ranger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ranger asked, incredulous.

"I didn't know what to say! It's not like we planned it, and then last week…"

"What?"

"You don't even remember? God, we were picking Mary Alice up from practice, and you said something like 'I never want one of them. Ever.'"

"I wasn't talking about kids in general. I meant I didn't want the one she was with."

"He was cute."

"His pants were around his knees."

She smiled, her hand curling at his waist. "We're going to have a baby."

He'd been there for the cigars. Or, in this case, the full blown party inside and behind the Plum house, where Ranger stayed attached to Stephanie's hip, either holding his baby girl or staring at his wife and child as she held little Josephine ("I want to name her Josephine." "What? Why?" "Well…you were there when it all started."). Everyone had thought she was the most beautiful baby on the face of the earth. Her eyes were a deep blue, odd even for a baby because of their intensity, and Joe knew they would be the same brilliant eyes as Steph's. The few wisps of hair on her head were dark, curling at her temples, and her skin was a few shades lighter than Ranger's, glowing. Besides having the girl named after him, Ranger approached Joe as presents were being passed out, and asked him to be the girls godfather. Joe couldn't refuse.

And when he stood at the front of the church and stared down at Josephine Elena Manoso, and her hand curled into his hair, and her eyes flitted about his face, taking in every tiny detail, Joe knew she'd be a part of his life forever.

He'd been there to watch the Manoso's youngest boy and his own oldest girl go to Prom together, and then graduate two weeks later. Ranger had handed him a beer, sipping his own as he watched his last child hug another of his friends. They sat outside the Manoso house (Joe liked to refer to it as a mansion, but they absolutely, flat out refused to let it be called that), the backyard full of graduates, celebrating the end of high school.

The dark brown hair had begun to gray at the temples, but rather than look aged, Ranger managed to attract even more attention. The muscles didn't see as much use these days, either, but he still had a fit body.

"That's the last one for you," Joe told him, leaning back in his chair, a grin on his face as he watched his own wife chase after their seven year old.

"I've gone through five of them. I'm almost glad it's over."

"I'm not. Angie's got two still at home and she's already got empty nest syndrome. "

Ranger chuckled. "Not a problem here. This is only the first party. After Jess leaves for Europe, she's throwing another one. Adults only. You're invited."

"I have a feeling it's a bad idea."

"Lots of alcohol. You don't come, Steph will kill you."

Their fiftieth anniversary, he was there. And that passion, that love, that had always been there, was still there. He'd seen the look in both their eyes. This time, there had been no feelings of let down. He was happy for them, genuinely happy that they could have this. They were family.

Then Joe's daughter, Alexis, was kidnapped. She'd been taken on Angie's birthday by a man who had some vendetta against Joe. And Jordan, who had taken over RangeMan with astounding ability, had searched for her, day and night, for almost a week. And when they'd found her, the parallels couldn't have been more obvious. Ranger, Joe, and Stephanie had watched as Jordan held Alexis close, whispering to her. And in the doorway, another man had stood, watching the pair in something like realization.

When he'd sat out on the front stoop, waiting for authorities to come and arrest the man Jordan had cuffed to the railing of the basement stairs, Joe had followed suit. He'd sat in silence for a while, and then, after a moment, he spoke.

"It'll get better, you know."

"How?" The pain in his voice brought back memories. "How does it get better?"

"You'll always love her the same amount. You just…find a different way to love her."

He stared at Joe for a long moment. "How do you know?"

Joe smiled. "I've been through it. I've been through it all. And I'm an old guy. I know what all of it is."

He'd been there the day of the funeral. Stephanie had died peacefully in her sleep, and Ranger was stoic. He hadn't spoken to a soul in the time between her death and the moment they watched her lowered into the ground. He'd held his family close, watched his grandchildren and great-grandchildren with an almost-smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

Two days later, he'd stood in front of Joe and given him a box of cards. They were the ones he'd sent throughout the years—every one, packed neatly and folded nicely. His eyes held Joe's.

"She always loved you. I just…needed you to know that."

Joe had smiled, trying not to cry. "She loved everyone."

He shook his head. "You were always part of her. I…I need to thank you for that."

"Ranger—."

"I…just wanted you to know that she loved you."

They were silent for a while, and then Joe had extended his hand. Ranger shook it fiercely, and pulled him into a hug for a minute or two. "Thank you," Joe had said.

Ranger had died less than a year later. They'd said it was old age, but everyone knew what it really was. He'd died of a broken heart. His soul had died the day Stephanie had, and his body had finally left as well.

Joe had held Josephine as she cried.