Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum Series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes/Warning: 1) Yes, the title is from one of the Star Trek movies. :-) 2) This story may cause tears and leave you wondering. I have been told it's not something to read right before you go to sleep. 3) I am aware that this story is not terribly well fleshed out, but it was hard to write, so I stuck with just getting the basics down.
The Good Of The Many
by TT
Ranger stood in the dim shadow of the warehouse, waiting for his contact to come.
He wasn’t alone, though. Lester was on the roof across the way with his sniper rifle. Tank and Snake were hidden in the shadows at either end of the ally. He was wearing a microphone and the other three had earpieces so they could hear him.
The only incongruity was Stephanie, sound asleep in the Explorer behind him. Ranger was bringing her home after a distraction job in Newark when a contact called. There wasn’t time for him to drop her at home or have someone else do it for him. The man he was meeting, Cyrus Green, always had good information and was exceedingly punctual.
Cyrus also wasn’t a man Ranger trusted. But, then, as a mercenary, Ranger trusted very few people. He was greedy and had fewer morals than Tank was rumored to have. And rumor had it Tank had none.
Before he could think further, Ranger’s attention was drawn by the sound of an approaching car.
A few minutes later, a limo pulled to a stop ten feet in front of him. The chauffeur stepped out and opened the back door. Green stepped out.
“Wonderful to see you again,” the new arrival greeted with a smile that did not reach his cold, dead eyes.
Ranger nodded. “You have something for me?” he asked.
“Indeed I do,” Cyrus agreed, scanning the area. His eyes stopped for a moment on the Explorer before returning to Ranger. “Shall we discuss terms?” he asked.
“Let me see what you have,” Ranger replied, holding out his hand, hearing the door to the SUV behind him open. He cursed silently that Stephanie was getting out and would witness this. He would have to impress on her that she couldn’t ever tell anyone what happened here.
Cyrus placed a single piece of paper in it. “This is just a sample of the information I have. Though it would bring an extraordinary price on the open market, I thought I would offer it to you first. After all, we have such a – lucrative – past,” he informed, his eyes drifting to a point behind Ranger.
Their slight up and down movement followed by the interest on his face told Ranger that Cyrus was eying Stephanie. As much as he didn’t want Stephanie to see this, now that she had, he would have to protect her, keep her safe.
Opening the paper, he looked down and felt his heart lurch with what he read. If Green truly had this information, Ranger had to get it. Information like this could save or destroy thousands of lives. “How much?” he demanded, staring, once more, at Cyrus.
A calculating look entered the other man’s eyes. “How much were you paying for your friend for the evening?” he returned, his eyes drifting to Stephanie. “She could make a wonderful down payment for tonight before delivery tomorrow. I like the girl next door look.”
Ranger heard Stephanie gasp. His jaw clenched. “Get back in the truck,” he commanded. The rapid click of her heels on the pavement followed by the sound of the door opening and closing told him she was in the truck. Ranger watched a smile slide across Green’s face and felt his stomach churn in disgust.
“My apologies,” Green said, tearing his eyes from Stephanie to meet Ranger’s once more. “I didn’t realize she was your woman.” His smile grew and showed teeth. “She must be quite something for you to claim her,” he observed, his voice smooth.
“How much?” Ranger reiterated, tired of the games.
The smile left Cyrus’ face, leaving him looking as cold and dead on the outside as his eyes revealed him to be on the inside. “If you want the information tonight, you give me your woman to keep. If you want it tomorrow, you pay me twenty million and the woman. Ten million more for each day after that.”
Ranger stared at the man across from him. He knew exactly what sort of life he would be condemning Stephanie to if he agreed. His heart rebelled at the thought, his stomach churned with acid. His eyes dropped once more to the paper and, as always, his mind and business sense overrode all other objections. What was one life compared to thousands? It was a question he’d faced before and had lost more than one good man to the inevitable answer. “Done,” he said. “Give me the information.”
“Give me the woman,” Green countered.
Ranger made a motion toward one side of the ally with his hand and said, “Stun her.”
Green nodded to his bodyguard standing by the limo.
His training was still in full effect and it was the only thing that kept Ranger from acting on his need to protect Stephanie as he heard Snake open the door. She started asking him a question before falling silent.
Snake and the bodyguard approached at the same time, each carrying their portion of the trade. Ranger indicated that Snake should put the unconscious Stephanie in the limo, while accepting the flash drive from the bodyguard. When his man returned to his side, Ranger took the flash drive and slid it into his PDA. The data that scrolled across the screen would save a lot of lives. It was information that should have never been available in the first place.
“Good doing business with you,” Cyrus said, when Ranger looked up at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a new toy to play with.”
So saying, he moved to his limo and entered.
Ranger watched as it drove away, waiting for the all clear from Lester. It came a few minutes later.
“Are we going after her?” Tank asked, stepping out of the shadow.
“No,” Ranger replied, his voice tight, controlled, cold, dead. “We need to act on this information,” he informed pulling the drive from his PDA and heading back toward his explorer.
“So, we’ll go after her later?” Snake asked, confused.
Ranger didn’t answer. He just got behind the wheel of his Explorer, started the SUV and drove away, feeling every bit as dead inside as Green’s eyes had looked.
Eighteen months later
Ranger sat at the table in the outdoor café with his back to the wall.
He was waiting for Cyrus Green.
Eighteen months ago he had made a deal with the man that, he realized now, cost him more than just Stephanie. Still, when compared with what was gained by the trade… what were two ruined lives? Though he denied it, Ranger knew with absolute certainty, he had stopped living the minute he agreed to the exchange.
He had been able to withstand the chaos that Stephanie’s “disappearance” had caused in Trenton and had even managed to work with Tank, Snake and Lester, the only three who knew what had really happened.
After things had gone down, though, after it was over, he had gone in the wind. Tank and the others wanted him to look for Stephanie, to get her back, but Ranger would honor the deal. It was the way it had to be. If he showed bad faith by taking Stephanie back, he would loose Green as a resource. The three men who had been there that night understood that. They logically understood why he made the deal and stuck to it. Emotionally, they wanted their Bombshell back. Emotionally, they couldn’t work with Ranger anymore.
So he had taken off, disappeared for a few months, lost himself for a while and then started working at the other offices and continued to do his job. If his employees, contacts or bosses noticed a difference, a new coldness about him, they didn’t say anything. His results still spoke for themselves. He didn’t have friends anymore, so that was one less thing to worry about, one less way for someone to hurt him.
Two weeks ago, Cyrus had contacted him with some more information. Green would only hint at what he had and demanded ten million for it. Ranger agreed to a meeting here in Marseille. He had a notepad computer with him that would allow for the transfer of funds should the information prove as valuable as Green had intimated.
Right on time, Cyrus showed up and took the seat opposite Ranger.
“Bonjour, mon ami,” he greeted in French, his eyes as cold and dead as always.
“New nose?” Ranger retorted, noticing the extensive plastic surgery the man had done on his face.
Green’s face contorted in disgust. “Your woman wasn’t quite as accommodating as I would have liked,” he replied. “She did much better when not given a choice,” he informed with a smile.
Ranger felt his stomach churn and fought down nausea at what he implied. Green was talking about Stephanie in the past tense. Was she dead? He raised an eyebrow before taunting, “A little too wild for you?”
Green let out a cold laugh. “She broke my nose in three places the first time I took her. She broke my cheek and jaw the second when she got loose afterward. The restraints kept it from happening again. But she is not longer my problem,” he said, nodding thanks to the waiter who delivered his latte.
“Did you bring it with you?” Ranger asked, a part of him desperate to know what happened to Stephanie, but his mind once more insisted on business.
Cyrus let out another cold laugh. “Not even the least bit curious about your woman?” he taunted. “You are even more like me than I supposed.”
Ranger stiffened and leaned forward and waited until Cyrus met his eyes. “Don’t ever make the mistake of comparing us,” he threatened, his voice low, cold and deadly.
Green stopped smiling and swallowed convulsively. He may not have a conscience, but he did value his life. “The information is here,” he said, reaching into his pocket and removing a CD.
Ranger nodded and set a laptop on the table, quickly booting it up. He popped the CD in the drive and waited while it loaded. It was good information. Very good.
Opening up the bank site, Ranger, showed the screen to Cyrus. “Just enter your routing and account numbers and the money will be transferred.”
It took Cyrus only a few minutes to do so. When the transaction was complete, Ranger shut down the computer and rose to leave. He had just turned from the table when Green called him back. “She’s a remarkable woman,” he said.
Ranger just stared at him, his face completely emotionless and immobile. “If there’s nothing else,” he said.
“I traded her to Akos Varga for the information you now have,” he informed before turning back to his drink and taking another sip.
Ranger turned and left, his heart beating faster even as his mind kept reiterating that it was no concern of his, his heart whispered that it was his chance to save her.
Six months later
Ranger crouched in the thick brush outside the villa, the warm Mediterranean air brushing gently across his skin as he waited for the house to settle. There was no one left he could count on for this, no one he could trust with the mission, so, despite the increased danger, he was doing this on his own.
It had taken him three days, after finding out Green no longer had Stephanie, to decide his course of action and three weeks do dispose of the newly bought information.
Since then, he had learned everything he could about Akos Varga and every bit of it made him sick to his stomach. His heart ached for what Varga would do his Stephanie and the soul Ranger had thought long since lost cried in agony for what his actions had wrought in her life.
Varga kept a close eye on Stephanie as well as three bodyguards.
He had managed to have a few minutes conversation with Stephanie about a month ago. He had known immediately that something wasn’t right.
He thought back to that meeting.
“Steph,” he whispered, his voice unable to find any greater volume.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said with a slight Hungarian accent. “Do I know you?”
Ranger couldn’t speak for a moment; his voice wouldn’t work as he took in her appearance. She looked healthy, but here eyes were blank, as if she wasn’t all there. “Stephanie,” he repeated, his voice firmer.
“I’m sorry, my name is not ‘Stephanie’,” she explained. “I’m Margit.”
“Margit?” he repeated dumbly.
“Yes. Margit Orsolya Csorba,” she informed with an inane smile before turning back to the blouse at which she had been looking.
He hadn’t had a chance to say anything more before her bodyguards approached.
The house they had in Hungary had been impenetrable, even for someone with his skills.
The vacation villa, however, was one he could penetrate.
He checked his gun to make sure it was ready and then felt in his pocket for the tranquilizer he would use on Stephanie, knowing she would never come willingly, not when she had no idea who she was.
Finally satisfied that the house was asleep, he stealthily made his way into the building and to the top floor.
Hiding in the shadow of the stairwell, he watched the guard standing outside the door to what must be the master suite.
Taking careful aim, he squeezed the trigger. There was a slight “phft” sound as the silencer muffled the noise of the bullet leaving.
A small, red hole appeared on the side of the man’s head facing Ranger. He knew a much larger hole was on the opposite side. The man dropped where he stood.
Moving silently toward the door, Ranger slowly turned the knob, careful not to make a sound.
With a slow movement, he opened the door and glanced around the interior. Varga and Stephanie were asleep in the bed.
In three steps, he was in the room and standing at the foot of the bed.
Satisfied that both people remained sleeping, he slipped the syringe out of his pocket, keeping it ready for Stephanie.
Once that was in hand, he aimed at Varga’s head and squeezed the trigger. He noted the small read hole in the center of the man’s forehead and then moved to stand beside the still-sleeping Stephanie.
Setting his gun on the nightstand, he pulled out a mini-flashlight, turned it on and, making sure to keep it away from her face, he looked closely at the inside of her elbow, looking for a vein.
Soon finding one, he moved the light to his mouth and took hold of her arm with his left as his right slid the needle home.
Stephanie woke with a gasp, her blue eyes flying open.
Seeing that she was about to scream, Ranger quickly dropped the needle, now finished with its task, and covered Stephanie’s mouth before she could even open it.
She struggled against him for a few minutes, but they were feeble attempts at best and soon stopped as the drug took effect.
Picking up the syringe, he put it and his flashlight away before lifting Stephanie over his shoulder and picking up his gun with his free hand.
As quietly and quickly as possible, he followed his planned path out of the house and off the grounds.
Half a mile down the road, he opened the door to the car he had rented and settled Stephanie inside, making sure to buckle her seatbelt.
Moving to the other side, he slipped his gun into its holster, turned the keys he had left in the ignition and drove to the marina.
A friend of his was setting sail for Egypt just before dawn and had agreed to let he and Stephanie onboard, no questions asked.
Ranger had some contacts in that area. From Egypt, they would make their way as quickly as possible to Liberia where they would stay until Stephanie was herself again. Though he wasn’t really a friend, the man who lived there was a well-respected doctor who would help with Stephanie’s recovery. Once she was fully recovered, they would figure out what to do from there.
Two months later
Ranger stood in the door, feeling the hate and danger rolling off Stephanie as she glared at him.
It had taken several weeks for the drugs to fully leave her system and since then, it had been a slow, painful process as she recovered her memories.
The doctor said it looked like all but the memories she had while drugged would return. It was a thought that had caused Ranger more than one sleepless night. How could he ever justify his actions, especially when he knew he would do it again if that many lives were on the line.
That morning, the last of Stephanie’s memories had returned, the most recent ones from her being traded to Green to when Varga started drugging her.
Ranger had been away from the house when it happened. He returned to the sound of Stephanie raging and throwing things. The doctor informed him that she remembered everything before leaving to attend the clinic he ran.
Now Ranger stood in the door of the room while she glared at him from the window. The hate in her tear-filled eyes burned through is heart and straight to his newly rediscovered soul. He met her gaze, however, knowing that she felt he deserved it. A small portion of him knew without a doubt he deserved it. He had condemned the woman he loved to a living hell no woman should know.
“I have my answers now, I suppose,” she spat at him, her voice hoarse from screaming out her rage.
Ranger just stared at her.
“The reason your love doesn’t come with a ring is because you can’t sell your wife. ‘In your own way’ means you loved me little more than you did your gun or your car. Hell, I blow up a car you can replace it, so I must be just as easily replaced,” she hissed at him, pacing back and forth in her anger.
She stopped in the shadow of the corner, her eyes seeming to glisten and glow in the diffused light that filtered over there. “Do you know what they did to me? Do you know what I went through? Do you know?” She stopped suddenly. Her mouth snapped shut as she struggled to regain control. Drawing herself upright, she lifted her chin and stared at him. “You don’t give a shit or you would have come after me."
Ranger watched, his face blank, hiding the pain and anguish which grew within him at each word, each accusation thrown his way. The shadows hid her movements from him, however, causing him to miss it when her arm reached behind her to the table and picked something up. A moment later, he dodged away from the object that was thrown at him; he felt the sharp edge tear into the skin of his cheek before shattering behind him.
He was moving forward as quickly as he could as Stephanie continued to throw things at him. He felt three more hits before he was able to reach her. It took only a second for him to sweep her legs and pin her face down on the floor.
She continued to struggle until he clamped his hand around her throat and applied just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. His battered heart shattered as he watched Stephanie give up, as he watched her eyes close and felt the sobs that wracked her body. “Just make it quick,” she whispered.
Ranger reared back at the words. How could she think…? But his mind kicked in a moment later and realized exactly what she meant and how she would have learned to give up. He felt sick that he was the cause of it and swallowed down the bile that threatened.
It was a warm drop of blood landing on his hand that drew his attention back to the present. He had to make a few things clear to her before finding the doctor and getting stitches.
He wasn’t going to ask for her forgiveness, he wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he would defend himself against at least some of what she said. “I didn’t just tell you that cars could be replaced. I said cars could be replaced, people couldn’t. You are irreplaceable, Stephanie. I told you my love didn’t come with a ring because I live a dangerous life. Marrying me would put you in even greater danger and I could never guarantee that when I walked out the door in the morning, I would be back that night. Marriage requires more of me than I can give, promises I can’t keep. ‘In my own way’, doesn’t mean as a possession. It means I love you the only way I know how and with as much of myself as I can give you. You were given to Cyrus in exchange for information that saved thousands of lives. The minute I agreed to the exchange I lost everything.” He paused, hating the fact that his eyes were filling with tears and that his voiced had cracked on the last word. Taking a few deep breaths, he got himself under control again. “I had a choice, Stephanie, your life and my soul or thousands of deaths. I made my choice and I’d make it again.”
Unable to deal with any more, He released the still-sobbing Stephanie and quickly left the room and the house. He headed in the direction of the clinic, hating himself more than he ever had before for what he had put her through.
Three months later
Ranger stepped into the cool shade of the house, unsure of his reception.
After the altercation with Stephanie, they had spent only another week in Liberia before Ranger managed to get a hold of a psychiatrist friend in India who agreed to help Stephanie.
They had arrived three months ago with Stephanie once more drugged after refusing to be anywhere near Ranger.
Reaching up, he brushed a fly off of his cheek, his fingers just barely touching the scar there from where Stephanie had caught him during her rage. It wasn’t terribly noticeable, but it was there if you looked. For him, it was a constant reminder of the price they had both paid for his decision.
The first week they had been here, the psychiatrist had told Ranger it might be best if he stayed away from Stephanie while they worked. If she didn’t know he was around, she would have a better chance to heal before confronting him, and there would be a confrontation.
Unable to stay completely away, Ranger had found the ways to eavesdrop on the conversations Stephanie had for the first few weeks. He felt his self-hatred and self-disgust growing with each word he overheard as she recounted first, everything she had been through and everything that had been done to her and second, how she felt about that, her intense feeling of betrayal by Ranger’s actions and her doubt and fear that she would ever be able to trust anyone again.
Yet, despite knowing he deserved the pain her words caused, it eventually became too much and he had taken to leaving the house each day. There were days where only two things allowed him to keep his sanity. One was the fact that Stephanie was getting better. The other was his unshakable belief that he had done the right thing.
He continued to lead his company as best he could from overseas. With web casting, emails, faxes and conference calls, he had managed to be almost as effective as he was in person.
He hadn’t actually set foot in the United States since leaving to meet with Green in France. There were days he wondered if he would ever go back. Lester, Snake and Tank had never forgiven him, even though they couldn’t fault his logic and even agreed with it in principle. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since he left Trenton so long ago and knew he wouldn’t truly be welcome if he ever went back. Of course, thinking of that made him wonder when his priorities had shifted to the point where Stephanie was his main and, at times, sole concern. Everything he’d done since France had been with her and only her in mind. It was a change in priorities with which he couldn’t find fault.
Three weeks ago, the psychiatrist had finally talked Ranger into sessions as well. They met every day since, always in the morning before Stephanie was awake. Ranger always made himself scarce afterward. He hadn’t actually seen Stephanie for almost two months despite living in the same house.
This morning, Ranger had been told that Stephanie was ready to confront him. He and the psychiatrist had gone over exactly what was expected and what Ranger should expect. Stephanie was still a long way from healed, but she was greatly improved.
As he stepped on the shaded patio where they would be taking tea, Ranger got his first glimpse of Stephanie. She was looking much better than she had the last time he saw her. Her skin carried a healthy glow and her hair was as curly as ever. Her movements were sure and decisive.
His step faltered for a moment when he heard her laugh at something the psychiatrist said. Feeling tears of relief fill his eyes. Ranger said a quick thank you prayer. He had long despaired of ever hearing that sound again and had forgotten the power it had to pierce even the darkest heart and bring light and joy.
Shaking off the momentary emotion, he moved to the small table and offered a small smile. “Stephanie,” he greeted, a flicker of pain racing through his heart as her face froze and turned blank at the sight of him.
“Ranger,” she greeted, her voice neutral and void of emotion. “Please sit down.”
Taking the seat next to her, he thanked her as she poured him a cup of tea and placed it in front of him. Though he was aware of the presence of the psychiatrist, the other man seemed to disappear while sitting at the same table.
They sat in silence for a while, quietly sipping their tea.
After finishing her drink, Stephanie cleared her throat and looked at him. “Ranger,” she said, her voice wavering just a little, betraying the intense emotions she was trying to hide. “I need to tell you that I understand the decision you made and I agree that thousands of lives are more important than one.”
As she paused for a moment to take a breath, Ranger struggled not to let the small flicker of hope that her words ignited burst in to a blaze. He was unsuccessful. His failure to quell his hope made her next words even more painful to hear.
“However,” she said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again or forgive you for what you did to me. I have no doubt that you knew what sort of life you were condemning me to, what sort of man he was. That you could so easily toss aside our friendship and the love I have for you is something I can’t, I don’t and I refuse to ever understand.”
Ranger swallowed the pain and struggled with everything he had to resist letting her know how thoroughly her words had broken him. He knew he was unsuccessful in smothering all of his pain, however, when he opened his mouth to reply and heard his voice waver and crack as he replied, “I understand, Babe.”
He saw something change in her eyes before she jumped up from her chair and ran away as fast as she could. Instinctively, he began to reach toward her and was half out of his chair, before he caught himself and forced himself to sit down. As he did so, the pain he couldn’t contain found release in tears that streamed down his face.
Closing his eyes, he pushed the pain away.
“Let yourself feel the pain, get it out,” the man across from him advised. “If you hold this in, you’ll miss the truth she revealed to both of you.”
Opening his eyes, Ranger stared at the psychiatrist for several seconds, not understanding.
Rising from the table to go search for Stephanie, the psychiatrist advised, “Allow yourself the pain. Allow yourself to break. Allow yourself to feel. Then find the hope she gave you and allow yourself to heal. There is still much to do, but, if you take my advice, you will end up where you truly want to be.” Done with his speech, the man left.
As night began to fall, Ranger finally allowed himself to take the psychiatrist’s advice. He allowed the pain of what he had been through since he turned Stephanie over to Green to fill him, to overwhelm him.
As it grew, he was unable to stop himself from breaking. He was a strong man, able to handle more than most, but even he had breaking points and, in the noisy, Indian night, he allowed himself to break, to weep, to despair, to rage and to hurt.
Finally, the storm passed, the pain was gone, or had at least been reduced. The emotional release was something he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to do again, but if it allowed him to see the hope the psychiatrist had told him of, he was willing to do it. After all, how little was this humiliation, was this pain compared to what he’d forced Stephanie to live?
At some point, he had moved from his chair to the floor of the patio. Now, he stood and looked around. Unwilling to enter the house, he moved to a chaise and settled down in it, staring up at the stars in the sky, allowing the infinite blanket of the night sky to wash away the last of the overwhelming emotion and remind him of how insignificant he really was.
Sleep eluded him as he watched the stars on their march through the heavens, but the words Stephanie had spoken to him began to play through his mind over and over again.
”I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you or forgive you..”
“Babe,” he whispered. The entire time they knew each other in Trenton, her complete trust in him had been a cornerstone in his life. When he had made the decision to agree to Green’s terms, he knew he was destroying that trust. He could deal with it to some extent, though; with the knowledge he would never see her again. Actually hearing from her mouth, however, that he had lost her trust was devastating.
As those words played through his mind over and over, he let himself feel them deeply.
By nature, though, he wasn’t one to dwell on past events. He was someone who, when faced with a problem, sought a solution. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but he vowed to himself that he would find a way to earn her trust back along with her forgiveness and her friendship.
With that decided, the remaining emotion was easily subdued and he began to analyze what she had said to him, looking for clues, looking for an advantage.
It was, perhaps, five minutes later when his brain finally latched onto it.
“… friendship and the love I have for you…”
She still loved him. She hadn’t used the past tense for either friendship or love.
The hope he thought was extinguished re-ignited in that instant. Stephanie currently loved him. There was hope.
“Pandora left it behind,” he murmured to the night sky, thinking of the story of Pandora’s box.
The night sky began to turn gray in preparation for the coming dawn. His exhausted body finally began to drag Ranger into the realm of sleep. As he watched the sky become brighter, a variation of a statement he had heard long ago whispered to his mind as he drifted off. “Where there is light, there is hope.” No one shined brighter than his Babe.
Three years later
Ranger stepped out of the cabin and onto the dock.
A smile curved his lips as he found Stephanie lying out in the sun, just as he expected.
Sitting down next to her, he reached over and twirled the ring on her finger. The changes in his life since he had found her were ones he couldn’t and wouldn’t regret.
They had traveled a long, emotionally painful road to get here.
“Hmm,” she murmured in her sleep.
Ranger smiled and looked out at the private lake. They had been here for about three months and would be moving again soon.
When Stephanie had finally forgiven him, he had offered to take her home.
The shadows that always lurked in her eyes had surfaced then as she stared into the distance. She had refused that offer, stating she was no longer the person she used to be and no one back home would understand.
Instead, she had contacted her parents, Lula and Mary Lou, letting them know she was alive, but wouldn’t be coming back. She still talked to them twice a year, but no more than that.
They had spent so much time together by that point that Ranger wasn’t sure what he would do if she wasn’t around, so he had given up his position at Rangeman and told Stephanie that he was going to follow her wherever she went and would eventually earn back her love and trust.
It had taken him almost two years to win her again. Now, after a year of marriage, he could honestly say it was worth every minute. He was closer to her now than he had ever been to anyone, than he had ever thought possible and was perfectly content to live by her side. The action, intrigue and challenge he thought he would miss never really crossed his mind. In some ways, he was relieved not to have to worry about them any longer. Oh, they still had to be on their guard 24/7. He had too many enemies to live his life any other way, but, since he was no longer an active player, he had discovered that he enjoyed seeing the world with Stephanie.
His retirement was his way of honoring his promise to Stephanie. After she had forgiven him, she had agreed to let him try to win back her love, trust and friendship, but only on the condition that he never again put himself in a position where he had to decide between her and whatever anyone else was offering.
He smiled as Stephanie sighed and stretched beside him, waking up from her nap. Turning his head, he waited for her to wake up, wanting to be the first thing she saw.
End.