Disclaimer– I do not own the characters, etc. I am only borrowing them from Janet. This is not for profit, just for kicks.

Lee Anne & Hannele's FEBRUARY IS A LOT OF THINGS CHALLENGE – PerfectlyPlum Feb. 2011

February is Cold and Wet.

By Pinpin

An icy raindrop landed squarely on his head, slid down his forehead and nose, and fell, splashing on his elevated coat sleeve. The stiff canvas clapped in the howling wind, adding to the relentless pounding of the rain and the wet flapping of countless leaves.

His watch read '12:53 a.m.' She was an hour ahead, but he knew that she didn't plan her days with clocks in mind. There was a better then good chance that she'd answer. No matter what.

He hoped she'd answer.

There were popping sounds in the distance, sporadic shouting, and then the static-filled report of gunshots at the edge of camp. But he ignored it all.

"¡Toma la línea!"
"¡Al suelo!"

Other than the occasional roar of a hesitant, whining engine or the sloshing of boots through hastily plowed muddy paths, the only sound he heard every night was the faded echo of her laughter; he wasn't about to deny himself the real thing as long as he could have it.

"Asegura las escotillas!"

He weaved his way through vegetation and litter. The evidence of the sodden village showed on his face and he hated it for just that reason alone. He hated the dirt beneath the treads of his boots and the blood that stained his clothes. This rain was no good. It made things worse. It spread infections and ruined campsites.

"¡¿Pies, para qué os quiero?"
"¡Quítate de ahí!"

He blocked out the shouting, and focused on the small beeps of the phone, knowing that whoever's voice came over the line would warm him more than any fire or liquor currently warming the other men's tents.

"Plum."

"Yo!," he answered. His voice caught in his throat and he hoped she wouldn't hear that hesitation. "Babe."

"Geez, Dougie, I told you, I'd be there on Tuesday."

"Babe?" he called out again, but it wasn't heard. "Are you there? Stephanie?" She didn't hear any of it.

"If I get any more of these silent calls the guys will come after you. And these are guys that you don't want after you, right?"

"Babe?" he screamed, only considering afterward that he might as well have lit a flare to give away his position.

Her voice changed, like the sound of jingling bracelets in India, like a distant memory. It was a quiet everywhere. At that moment, it was his everything.

"Is that you?" she whispered and then realized he probably didn't hear it. "Is that you?" was repeated loudly, "Ranger?"

"Babe!" There was the sound of fabric rubbing and then silence. He thought he might have heard a car door slam and double checked the phone's display. He was still connected. "Babe, it's me."

"Oh god, I think it's Ranger! But I can't hear him. Can he hear me? What do I say?"

"Just talk." She was with a man. That was a man's voice. "And like," he couldn't make out all of the words, but whoever it was had a voice much deeper than hers. There was more static and then he recognized it as Tank's, "here."

Stephanie's voice returned louder and determined. "Okay, so wait until you hear what happened to me this week. I swear if you were there with me this never would have happened. But Connie gave me a file with that smile of hers, you know the one. And it turned out that I had to go back to that apartment complex on Harrison." Ranger crouched in the rain, listening. Stephanie had a new tale to tell and he wanted to hear it. He just listened to her rambling. He could listen to it forever. "So, I'm dating a woman now who, evidently, is unaware of it. And Grandma Mazur won't leave me alone. She says she wants to be there when the lady breaks the news to her husband. I keep telling her that unless he visits her at county lock-up he's never gonna see her again, but she won't listen. Can you even imagine my mother's reaction if she found out?"

Stephanie stopped talking and he heard her sob. He never wanted to hug someone so much.

She was quiet when she started speaking again. "I'm trying to think of something memorable and inspiring to say, but all I can think of is this stupid thing that my poetry professor used to say everyday when we left class; 'pick up a toothpick, go out the door, your car is still there.' But that makes no sense and now I'm sorry that I even said it." Her nervous laugh rang out. "Oh god, if you had any idea how much I miss your smile, 'cause you would have smiled at that wouldn't you? And you'd have kissed me. Just to shut me up for a minute."

He was smiling. And she was right. He wanted to kiss her.

There was another choked sob over the line. "He can't hear me! Should I keep talking?" She was complaining to her companion again.

"Babe, I can hear you!" An image of Tank flashed in his mind. That stupid smile he always wore when he gave him shit about Stephanie. And now Tank was there with her while he was a thousand miles away. "I love you!" He shouted it through the phone like it might summon her before him. "I love you!"

Then the call disconnected.

She heard a dial tone and panicked. "I love you too!" She shouted it as if her voice might carry the message to another continent. She looked back and forth between Tank and the phone. "He didn't hear it." She looked down at the phone in her hand. "I love you! I love you…" Her voice tapered off. "I love him and I never told him."

"You did." Tank peeled her curled fingers off the cell phone in her hand and told her again. "You did."

(981 words)

A/N: This is a one-shot short, written in response to a group challenge at Y!PerPlum. Thank you for reading.