Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Pairing: None
Note: This was written in honor of Veteran's Day 2008. It may seem naiive or rediculous to some, but it was nothing more than an honest attempt to say thank you to our veterans.
Rating: Suitable for everyone
Feedback: Send to ttsmiscellany@yahoo.com

One Morning In November
By TT

Ranger's eyes scanned the street in morning’s auroral glow. Weariness tugged at his mind as the lassitude of fatigue crept through his muscles.

It had been a full twenty-four hours since he rose to face the day.

If there had been even a hint of the chaos that the previous day's dawning would put into motion, he might have refused to leave Morpheus' embrace and slept through the day.

Currently, physical and mental exhaustion battled his determination and resolve for supremacy.

The slow progression of shadowed forms in the nearby cemetery off to the right drew his attention from the road before him. His exhaustion caused him to act before realizing that calling the police would be the correct course of action. By the time that realization arrived, Ranger found himself pulling into the walled area and parking.

Sitting in his SUV, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

The shapes he had seen moving slowly came into focus. He felt a small jolt of surprise when he realized that the people were not the teens he had expected, but older men carrying small flags. Occasionally one of them would pause before a gravestone and bend or squat down for a moment before rising and moving on to another marker.

His tired mind finally recognized what he was seeing. As his eyes dipped to his watch, Ranger felt surprise as he read the date.

Exiting his vehicle, he stepped out and headed toward the nearest man.

As he drew closer, he recognized the man as Stephanie's father. Mr. Plum was standing before a gravestone, his eyes staring into the distance, obviously lost in a memory.

Ranger waited patiently for the older man to acknowledge him.

"Ranger," Frank finally greeted him several minutes later.

"Mr. Plum," he returned.

A moment of comfortable silence fell between them before Frank continued. "Martin Feinstein," he read, his voice soft as he nodded to the grave. "We grew up together, played together, dreamed together. We were drafted together and served together. No brother could have been closer.” His voice became softer and slightly rough with emotion the more he spoke. Frank suddenly stopped, his eyes focusing once more in the distance, jaw clenched and eyes blinking away the sheen of tears.

Ranger waited, knowing the story that was coming because it was one he had seen and experienced before. He knew it was one the older man had to tell, so he waited.

"He stepped on a land mine and managed to push me away before it went off." Frank swallowed hard. "I carried as much of him back as I could find."

Knowing there was nothing he could say or do, Ranger stood next to the older man, giving him time to collect himself.

He saw the small flag trembling in Frank's right hand. Reaching over, he took the flag from the older man, knelt and carefully, reverently, placed it in the small holder near the gravestone. He was honoring not only a fellow veteran, but also a man who had made it possible for his babe to be born. "Thank you," he murmured quietly before rising.

A quick look over at Frank revealed that the older man had composed himself.

"You served in the Gulf?" Mr. Plum demanded.

Ranger nodded. In truth, he had seen a lot of action in his time officially in the military and the unofficial time as well. But, as with any veteran, especially on this morning, there was no need to compare stories. This was a time to accept the camaraderie of shared experience, a time to honor each other and those who went on before.

Returning the nod, Frank led Ranger over to a pickup truck. On the tailgate sat the oldest man Ranger had ever seen.

No words were exchanged, but the old man handed Ranger a list and a handful of flags.

Ranger nodded. Turning toward the field of grave markers, he read the first name and plot location on his list before setting off to honor those who sacrificed everything that he might live in a free country.

An hour or so later, the last grave tended and the last flag planted, Ranger headed back toward his vehicle.

He paused when he saw Frank Plum leaning against the door. Continuing on his way, he stopped before the older man.

"I know it's not your thing," Frank said, "but we'd be honored if you would come to the VFW with us. We always have a special breakfast."

"The honor would be mine," Ranger stated.

With no further conversation, Frank walked around to the passenger door and waited for Ranger to unlock the SUV.

As they arrived at the VFW Hall, Ranger felt surprise at the number of cars in the lot. Despite the scarce parking, he still managed to find a spot in the front row.

Uncertain of what to expect, he followed Frank toward the building.

As the door opened, the sound of many voices rushed out toward him. Tension crept up his spine. Large gatherings such as this really weren't his thing. There were too many variables, too many things to worry about and track.

"You're safe in there," Frank soothed, as if sensing the younger man's hesitancy. "Most of the seats will have your back to the wall."

Offering a slightly sheepish smile, Ranger nodded his acknowledgement and followed the older man into the building.

Once inside, he received another surprise. On either side of the door stood a woman. The one on the right didn't recognize, but the one on the left was someone he knew very well. "Babe," he murmured.

As if hearing him, Stephanie looked up, right at him and smiled, a faint pink coloring her cheeks.

The man in front of her moved further into the building and Frank took his place.

Taking a corsage from a box behind her, Stephanie pinned it to her father's shirt and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft.

Frank squeezed her arm before moving.

Ranger stepped into place next, looking down at Stephanie. "Babe," he said softly. At his word, Stephanie's eyes rose to meet his. His heart caught at the honest, open, sincere gratitude he saw there. He remained still as Stephanie pinned a corsage on his shirt.

Rising on her toes, Stephanie brushed a kiss on his cheek. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Thank you," she said.

To Ranger it felt like an answered prayer and a healing balm at once. All those hours, days and years of service, of living in the dark and keeping the secrets of his actions, all those things that he was so certain went unnoticed, seemed to take on a slightly different meaning, a deeper meaning, as he realized his sacrifices were sincerely appreciated. Not sure what to say in response, he nodded and moved further into the building, following Frank to a back corner where his back would be to the wall and they would have a clear view of the room.

Looking over the crowd, he saw a myriad of faces, some much older than him, some hauntingly younger. He knew that outside of this day, this time, he had almost nothing in common with these men, their values and their lives, but for this brief moment in time, he felt a sense of belonging.

It felt good.

End

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