Work Text:
It was Hector, of course, who'd thought of it.
It was right after Ronnie Baylor, a skip from Hamilton, had gotten the drop on her. A slender five feet ten inches tall, he'd been picked up for shoplifting. It was his first arrest and there was nothing in his file to indicate violence. Boy, was that wrong. He was all body hair and bad attitude.
Stephanie had gotten as far as the front steps when Ronnie came bursting out of the house like he'd been fired from a cannon. He tackled her down to the ground, sitting on her hips and raining punches on her. She'd been extremely lucky that her head had hit the grass and not the sidewalk.
She curled into a half-crunch and wrapped one arm around her head, trying to protect it and her face. The other hand slipped down to where he was sitting astride her torso. Making her hand into a claw shape, she jammed it into his crotch and clenched it as hard as she could.
Ronnie screamed like all the devils in hell were torturing him and then passed out. She managed to push him off and, after several tries, got him cuffed. She had her own torture session getting him to the Trenton Police station and getting her body receipt before she could finally go home and collapse.
Morelli had been out of the picture for months and Ranger was in the wind for another couple of weeks so she wasn't expecting to hear someone pick the lock to her apartment. It was Lester and Bobby coming to check on her and fix her up. Hector had come along as well. He lingered after the others had left.
"Chica it is not just you that hurts," Hector said. "We all hurt with you. Just like you hurt if something happens to one of us. Please, remember that what you do impacts your friends."
Hector had a lot to say that day. He made her see that her choices affected more than just herself. The haunted look in his eyes when he told her that he had so few friends that he couldn't afford to lose one when it could be prevented damn near broke her heart.
"I know you don't like your gun, Estefania. So how about I teach you how to defend yourself with a blade? A knife will never go off by itself. A knife is less likely to accidentally kill. You never have to wonder if it is loaded. I will teach you, but you must swear to me that you will take this seriously. Promise me you will not back out."
Afterwards, she was never sure if it was his words alone that swayed her, or if she was finally in the right frame of mind to hear them, but something clicked for her that day. She knew she needed to do something and this was it.
Twice a week for the past eight weeks, Stephanie had been training with Hector. They'd only been at it a week and a half when Ranger had come back from his mission. She'd gotten a 'proud of you, Babe' and a playful tug on one of her curls in the Rangeman gym that morning. Later, up in the apartment on 7, Ranger had demonstrated just how very much he appreciated her decision.
This morning's training session was helpful and fun as usual. Hector was a very good teacher. Plus he'd ask her what issues she'd run into with her skips and then show her ways to handle them without needing any weapons. She had to admit that she'd gotten much better at being a bounty hunter thanks to him, and was able to take in some of the medium bond skips. That, along with her part time job at Rangeman, was making a huge difference financially. She felt better, had more energy, and getting up earlier was no longer a problem. She still wasn't getting up at 5:00 a.m. though. That was just crazy.
After today's lesson Stephanie showered, changed into her Rangeman uniform, and was back at her desk running searches. As she waited for each one to complete she was concentrating, trying to add all the new pointers from today's lesson into her new mental knife-fighting database. She was taking this seriously enough that she also was compiling each lesson into a notebook bought specifically for that. The act of writing down her notes immediately afterwards made each lesson sharper in her mind.
She was so focused on her note taking that she didn't notice the noise in the background at first. She rose up from her chair in a half crouched posture that let her see over the wall of her cubicle before she committed to getting all the way out of the chair.
A handful of the guys were gathered around Manny's cubicle in the center of the control room. Everyone, including Manny, was standing and looking down at something. Whatever had their attention was hidden from her view by the cubicle wall. Based on the group's focal point, it was on the counter next to his computer station. Manny was holding something curled in the palm of one hand, his jaw moving like he was chewing.
"You know what this means, right?" Technically, that was a question but Woody made it sound like a statement.
Manny shook his head, his brows lowering in confusion. The chewing slowed.
"Oh, come on," said Ram. He poked Manny in the shoulder. "Everybody knows what this means."
Hector was up on 5 replacing the motherboard on the printer in Tank's office. The commotion was enough to draw him out, too.
Curious, Stephanie piped up from her cubicle. "Everybody knows what?"
It was Cal who answered. "That the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
Oh! She knew the answer to this! Hector had spent part of the last two training sessions explaining things like this. Excitement boiled up inside her, making her stand so quickly that her chair got shoved back, hitting the other side of the cubicle with a loud 'clunk!'.
As she walked over to join the group Steph said, "Actually, it depends on the length of the blade and the angle of attack. Oh, and the force of the strike. Assuming the blade is long enough - though even a few inches should be sufficient depending on the entry point, then a frontal attack with an entry point below the sternum delivered with an upward strike aimed at the person's left shoulder should go right through the heart. This entry has the added advantage of bypassing all the solid bits, like the ribs, that might deflect or stop the blade, but it does put you at high risk of counterattack since you are right there in front of them."
She was right on target, so to speak, with her answer and knew it. As a less than mediocre student in college, this wasn't a feeling she'd had very often. Now, she was so pleased that she couldn't help the big smile on her face as she looked to Hector for confirmation.
"Muy buena, chica." He gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the check. "You are doing very well, Estefania. This makes me happy."
Steph and Hector turned to look at the guys. Steph expected similar smiles on their faces. Instead, they stood gaping at her. Woody's jaw had dropped open and she could swear that Cal looked nervous. What the hell? They'd been pestering her for years to get additional training. Now that she was, they should be happy and they should be even happier that she wasn't half-assing it but had gone all in. Just because she was studying self-defense with knives instead of guns, it didn't —
Ohhh, that was it. Steph understood their reaction now. They all loved their guns. That was their idea of the perfect response to every confrontation. That was what they'd been bugging her to train with. That was the answer they were looking for. Okay, she'd add on to her answer.
"Oh. Okay. I get it." She rolled her eyes at them. "You guys were thinking about guns, right? So, yeah. The quickest way to a man's heart is with a pistol. Or," she added, looking at Ram, "a sniper rifle. Happy now?"
"Um," said Woody. He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly.
"Ah, that's not –" started Ram. There was a pause as if he was considering his next words, but none came.
The guys looked at each other, seemingly reluctant to speak. Finally, Manny reached down and pulled up a square tin box, tilting it to show Stephanie the contents.
He swallowed what was in his mouth then said, "Laverne down at the courthouse made me half a dozen low fat, low sugar, apple bran muffins. She made a regular batch last week and I joked that I had to hide them in the Range-mobile because they wouldn't be allowed in the building. So she made me some I could bring into the office."
Instant heat in her face let her know she'd turned very very red with embarrassment. Holy crap. Talk about mis-reading a room. Now that it was too late, her brain helpfully replayed her mother's voice from years ago, giving her marital advice the night before her wedding to The Dick. 'The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Feed him well and he's yours forever.' Since Stephanie couldn't cook worth a damn, that should have been yet another of the many clues she'd had prior to the ceremony that they weren't meant to be.
There was a tingling at the back of her neck and the scent of Bvlgari wafted over her shoulder.
"Babe. I'm not sure whether to congratulate you for taking your training seriously or start hiding the knives."
Ranger stepped up next to her, placing one hand on her lower back. His eyes sparkled with amusement and he had his public version of a smile on his face. She'd seen the private, full-blown version many times now and would never tire of it.
Trying to set aside her chagrin, she matched his teasing attitude. "Go with the first one, then you won't have to hide the knives."
Ranger and Hector chuckled and the guys all relaxed. Ranger led Stephanie back to her cubicle.
"Dinner will be ready at 6:30," he reminded her. "Ella's making arroz con pollo and promised to make you flan for dessert."
Suddenly Stephanie was hyper-aware that she'd never cooked anything for him. She was pretty sure that making sandwiches didn't count. Hadn't even tried though she'd made a few unsuccessful attempts for The Dick. Should she try? Was that a sign of love?
Hesitantly, she said, "Carlos, do –"
He cut her off with a gentle kiss. As was so often the case, Ranger was way ahead of her. "There are many ways to a man's heart, querida, and you already have mine."
The End