Disclaimer: I own nothing, it belongs to JE.

Author’s Note: And bitten yet again by the angst bug. I forgot to include the play list for ‘Finality’, so I’m going to put it here since these will supplement each other. I used four songs while writing ‘Finality’ and that was Hinder’s ‘Better Than Me’, ‘Lips of an Angel’ and Avril Lavine’s ‘My Happy Ending’ and Vertical Horizon’s ‘Best I Ever Had’. I apologize for forgetting to include it. Now, moving on to this story. First up is Lifehouse’s ‘First Time’, Nickelback’s ‘Never Gonna Be Alone’, Anna Nalick’s ‘Breathe’, and Berlin’s ‘Take My Breath Away’. The next round includes Howie Day’s ‘Collide’, Heart’s ‘Alone’, and perhaps the theme for this entire story is Goo Goo Dolls’ ‘Become’. This is Ranger’s POV to supplement ‘Finality’. I hope you enjoy the story.

Irrevocably

By

Kym

‘To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.’ -- Gilbert K. Chesterton

I’ve been stalked by a cop for over two years, but not for the reasons you believe. If I was normal, that might have made me nervous. You see, my past isn’t exactly on the same level as the law. I don’t worry about legal trouble finding me, I’m too good for that and I always cover my tracks. So, it didn’t bother me to have a cop haunting every aspect of my life, but the reason he was there almost killed me.

He stood directly in the path of the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I’m a man that is used to getting what I want and I don’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’. I had everything that a normal man could ever want…success, good looks, youth, and money. Unfortunately, I am far from normal and the only thing I wanted I didn’t have. It is hard to claim ownership of something or someone when it’s in the possession of another. But, it wasn’t for lack of trying on my part.

It was a gradual thing that progressed over time. My first encounter with Stephanie left me a bit disgruntled and more than a little intrigued. At that time my interest was mostly because of physical attraction and boredom. I’d curse that first meeting frequently over the next two years for a variety of reasons. It basically had to do with a severe case of the sentiment ‘If I knew then what I know now…’ When I was on a ‘pity me’ trip I would travel back to that first moment and wonder what would have happened if I had done something differently. The thoughts never lasted more than a minute and they would pass when I realized that if I changed anything, I might not be where I am today.

It helps if you understand the dynamics of the situation to comprehend my circumstances. What really pisses me off is that the beginning of the entire fucked up situation was ultimately my fault. I was a witness to the start of the train ride from hell and a passenger when it finally wrecked. I played the part of caboose through every turn and over every bump and even every stop. In the beginning, it amused me that my ‘student’ managed to capture her skip and then she shocked the hell out of me by clearing his name. That was one of the first moments when things began to change for me. I was no longer the disgruntled mentor, but more of a captivated audience.

Subsequently, Stephanie began dating the cop after his release. It was then I found out they had a much deeper connection that I was aware of. I was surprised yet again and a little pissed that I hadn’t known about their previous history. I just wasn’t aware at the time of why those facts bothered me. It hit me later, hard.

I knew the cop by name, but didn’t care to address him by it. In my mind, he was just another person that I encountered on a daily basis. When she started dating him, he remained the cop because I didn’t see the need to label something that was supposed to be brief. I also didn’t know at the time that brief would last over two years.

The early days passed and I found myself easing from the role of an outsider and taking a few steps closer to the target. I took the time to study her, everything about her. When I shifted a little closer to her I automatically let down a little of my guard as I began to trust the person I knew her to be. At the time, I didn’t care that she was still dating the cop. He didn’t exist for me, not then. My attention was centered on Stephanie and as we slowly built a friendship built on mutual trust and respect, my role changed again. I was no longer the disgruntled mentor or a captivated audience, nor was I an outsider. I was a fan.

It should have been my first sign of just how serious things were becoming for me. However, being who I was then, I thought I could control it…just like I controlled every other aspect of my life.

I was thrown for another whirlwind when my freedom was threatened. Finding myself accused of a murder I didn’t commit was inconvenient and put a halt in my busy life. I wasn’t worried about clearing my name, not really. While going underground and working to find the evidence to fix the mess I was in, I found I couldn’t concentrate. Instead of focusing on the facts and searching for information, I was worried about something else entirely. That something else was actually Stephanie Plum and the idea that I wasn’t available to her. I worried that something might happen and I wouldn’t be able to get to her in time. But, the truly defining moment that changed everything for me occurred then with a phone call.

One phone call secured her place in my life. She had called to check on me and that kind of care was unknown to me. I knew she was assigned my file and had orders to bring me in. It didn’t matter. She put my well-being and our friendship first and I had never encountered another individual with so much compassion, until her. She became mine the moment she asked, ‘Are you okay?’ It was as simple as that. I just wasn’t sure what that entailed at the time. That too, would change.

When the haze cleared from the Ramos mess, I found myself changing as much as my relationship with Stephanie was. My instincts involving her underwent a massive overhaul. I was no longer just concerned, but protective. I found myself wanting to shield her from the more unpleasant aspects of our job and then I learned exactly how stubborn she was and how dominant I could be.

That was also about the time her relationship with the cop hit a bump and they were suddenly in yet another ‘off’ period. I’m not exactly proud of my actions that immediately followed the relationship hiatus. I remember being frustrated and I was off balance for the first time in my life. The frustration absolved to desperation and I had a genius idea of making a deal. I won’t go into the fine details; but that night cemented the fact she was mine in every way that mattered.

It was the next morning that I freaked out and I’m not a man given to the vapors. You have to understand when I woke up scared I did the only thing I could think of…I sent her back to the cop and I ran. For the first time in my life I didn’t have a clue what I was doing or where I was going. My confusion was the reason I made that vital error, one that would be the ultimate cause of my own pain and misery.

I stepped up my government missions and accepted more assignments. I wanted distance and time. I was stupid enough to think that it would serve as the buffer I needed to get her out of my system. It didn’t matter how dangerous the mission was or how far away from her I went, it didn’t change. When I returned home for the first time after sending her back to the cop, I wasn’t the same man that had left at a dead run. I was forced to acknowledge two things. One, the cop suddenly became Morelli. Two, I was irrevocably hers.

It was yet another turning point in my life.

It was over those next few months that I learned what jealousy really was. I also discovered that I can feel pain, far more than I ever anticipated. I became a walking contradiction to ‘The Ten Commandments’. Those months were some of the lowest in my life, but also some of the most promising because I found I had one thing to hang on to and that was hope.

I cannot describe the torment of watching her with Morelli and knowing that his hands were touching what was mine. It ate me alive to think that he had the freedom that I did not and it was my own fault. He could touch her anytime he wanted, while I was limited to a dark alley and the front seat of an SUV. It’s hard to deny yourself something that you’ve grown to crave.

I cheated and to this day I am not ashamed of it. I watched and learned and pushed to find out what my limits were and where the boundaries lay. I was desperate enough to take anything I could receive. We had stolen moments in that dark alley, the few minutes that I could caress her lips with mine. We were alone in that SUV, countless times and I poached. I touched her as much as I could, even the smallest stroke of her arm or tucking a wild curl behind her ear. Eventually, my actions knew no boundaries. It evolved to a point where I wasn’t even aware of how attentive I was to her or where we were. I should probably feel remorse at my actions, but I still consider it the only alternative that was left to me. I’m still surprised that I didn’t throw her over my shoulder and disappear into the unknown and that idea crossed my mind many times over that two years.

There are so many things that I discovered during that time. One of the most prominent became the lengths that I would go to in order to protect her. It was one of the only ways I was allowed to take care of her and she didn’t bear it well. It was a small comfort knowing that it was due to her independence and not her attachment to Morelli that led her to be difficult at times. She could be a pain in the ass and while it irritated me in many ways, it was also endearing.

About the time she faced down the Slayers I came to the startling realization that the one constant in my life was mortal. She had been dangerous situations too many times to count and attracted psychos by the droves; it didn’t bother me as much because I had been there to intervene. I didn’t get to her in time and if it wasn’t for Sally Sweet, she would be dead. It pissed me off to discover that not only was my one constant mortal, but I too was sadly human.

I raged for days at my inability to protect her and took the steps to ensure her safety, even when I was near. Today, she still doesn’t know that there was always someone near, in the background helping to keep her alive for me. It was the only way I could sleep at night while away from her.

After the Slayers, I thought she was going to take a permanent exit from my life. The anguish at that thought had me scrambling to find the means to keep her connected to me in any way possible. I had mixed feelings on the subject of her leaving the bounty hunting world behind. I was relieved that she would be away from the danger, but seriously furious with her mother and Morelli for pressuring her into something I didn’t think she wanted. I coaxed her to Rangeman and succeeded in driving a wedge in her relationship with Morelli. He stepped up the ultimatums and I increased the support.

There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. I needed one thing and that was to have her in my life any way I could get her. It didn’t mean that I stepped back and admitted defeat. It wasn’t in me to give up and I can tell you that perseverance is rewarded. It just takes time and I had abundant amounts of that.

During those two years, I watched countless times as Stephanie’s relationship with Morelli cycled. My emotions fluctuated as much as the status of their relationship. I would feel an all encompassing fury at how careless he could treat her and how he unleashed his frustration over her career at the most inopportune times. I hated to see her cry and it was a given that when she was overwhelmed, the tears flowed. For every drop out of her eye, my hate for him grew. In my mind, he was slowly tearing apart the woman I loved and the quirks that made her Stephanie. I adored her as she was and I still don’t understand what her family or Morelli found so lacking. How can you claim to love someone and try to change them?

As Stephanie’s relationship continued to unravel at the seams only to be stitched together again half assed, I struggled to learn control. My own emotions were rapidly developing into the same pattern of unhealthy behavior as said relationship. I didn’t want that, I refused to allow it. If I couldn’t control myself, I was no better than Morelli when he is raging. And I wanted to be more to her, much more.

My resolve that I would do anything for Stephanie was tested right about the time my daughter was kidnapped. It feels odd to refer to Julie as my daughter when another man is her dad, but blood is blood and she is mine. I hesitated to ask Stephanie for help and to involve her in something I wasn’t absolutely certain I could protect her. Circumstances left her as my best choice, despite what I wanted. She proved so selfless that it humbled me and left me speechless. How could I not love her? When she and Julie were both taken and threatened, I did the only thing left. While my men and Morelli’s cops debated the best plan available, I did the inevitable and went in to get my family. It wasn’t arrogance or ego. It was the only sacrifice I had left to make for her and everything she had given me and that was worth my life. No question.

During my recovery from the gun shot wounds and coming to terms with almost losing Stephanie twice in such a short time was an eye opening experience. I’ve always loved her and I like to think that she knew it even if I rarely spoke the words or tried to protect myself by qualifying it. One more tragedy avoided was my breaking point. Enough was enough and I was tired of being a passenger on the train ride from hell. I wasn’t about to step off the depot, but step up the speed of the train.

The final transition occurred in the three months following the events involving Scrog. I didn’t try to hide my feelings from her anymore, although I was more reserved with my approach. I was almost calm. Maybe it was staring death in the face that was the cause, I don’t know. I came to the decision that I would wait, however long it took and if it was the rest of my life….then at least I could appreciate her presence if nothing else.

As gradual as my own relationship with her evolved, the same gradual down fall came with Morelli. Stephanie’s appearance in my life increased and I found joy in her company. We became closer and I opened up a little more. I knew she had feelings for Morelli, perhaps deeper than she had for me and while I didn’t like it, I accepted it. If I had to tolerate him to have her in my life I would do it. I drew the line at watching them interact…the one time I witnessed a small amount of affection was like stabbing a knife in my own chest. I refused to hurt myself…but it was a wash because I realized the only way to avoid that was to remove myself from the equation and that was not an option.

I was growing more resigned to the fact that my relationship with Stephanie was doomed to remain platonic and that I might as well accept the finality of Morelli as a permanent fixture in her life. As agonizing as the thought was, it was even more painful to think of her unhappiness. Ultimately, it didn’t matter how much I wanted her, loved her, or yearned. In the end, I just wanted her to be happy and if the result was my own unhappiness, so be it. It was all about her and nothing else, not me or Morelli or even her family.

Fate has a funny way of intervening at the oddest times. I was on my way from Rangeman to a meeting with a potential client when I passed Pino’s parking lot and witnessed a scene that I had witnessed too many times to count. I remember sighing and shaking my head, but curiosity got the better of me and I parked across the street to observe. I watched in fascination and sure enough, arms started flying and I rolled down my window and heard the insulting remarks traded between them. The depth of some of the insults caused me to raise a brow in shock a few times and I almost hate to admit by the time Morelli departed the scene I was wearing a full blown smile. It wasn’t from the fight, although that certainly didn’t make me sad. I was smiling because Stephanie to talk dirt like no one’s business and she’s sexy as hell as she does it. I was also happy to see some of her former spark returning. I wasn’t concerned at that point, but the previous couple of weeks prior to the fight she hadn’t been as lively as she usually was. I continued to watch her for a few minutes to make sure all was well. There were no tears that I could see and she shook her head at nothing in particular and went back inside the restaurant. I smiled all the way to the client meeting.

I look at the next two months from the day of that fight as the start of my life. Unlike our beginning, it wasn’t a gradual process. It was an explosion and a celebration.

Flashback

It was two weeks after Stephanie’s showdown with Morelli that she surprised me by arriving at my office and shutting the door. I had talked to her on the phone and checked in with her daily, but I was trying to give her space. I avoided approaching her to give her some time, but couldn’t cut out all contact for the sake of my sanity.

She came in and quietly shut the door and stared at me with such an intensity that I had to grasp the desk to keep from stalking her. There was something in her gaze that made me sit up a little straighter in the chair. The look in her eyes wasn’t one that I was well acquainted with…it was a fleeting look I only got to glimpse in stolen seconds. I traced her face with my eyes, searching for something I could hang on to…hope, happiness, anything. For once, she was wearing my patent blank expression. The only emotion to be found was in her eyes and I couldn’t put a name to it.

She stared at me for an eternity and didn’t say a word. I’d never been so impatient with silence in my life. After the first two minutes (and yes, I was counting) I began to get nervous. When three minutes passed I was fast approaching fear. After five minutes, I was piss in your pants terrified that it was over.

I waited for her to say the words that would crush me.

And my patience wore thin. I finally stood up slowly and approached her, expecting her to step back. She didn’t move and her eyes didn’t leave mine. I stopped about six inches away from her and waited.

On the outside, I might have appeared calm…maybe. Inside I was a mess. My mind was trying to decipher her body language and my heart was beating with anticipation. My fists were clenched at my sides and my body coiled, ready to take flight away from possible pain. It was a classic stance of uncertainty and vulnerability.

She had mercy on me after ten minutes. Neither of us had moved. She finally put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips and then said, “Do I need to give your balls back to you?”

My jaw dropped and my eyes widened in disbelief at her question. It was fucking amazing and brilliant. It was also the verbal cue that I needed. When she smiled at me deviously, I growled and took one step and threw her over my shoulder.

I threw open my office door and sprinted to the elevator while she hung over my shoulder and laughed with glee. Several of my men stood against the wall as I passed wearing expressions of shock.

Once we entered the seventh floor apartment, we didn’t come out for three days. Our only contact with the outside world was when Ella would bring us food in fear of us starving. We disconnected the phones and reconnected with one another. We talked, loved, and laughed.

It was the best time of my life and perhaps bittersweet for Stephanie. She closed the door to her past and we opened one together for our future.

It only took ten minutes to end two years of pain and to begin a lifetime of fulfillment.

I could dwell on the time that Morelli returned, but I won’t. There is no joy to be found in another man’s pain and I know he is still experiencing the impact of losing Stephanie. I know, I spent two years in a similar situation.

However, I’m a mercenary and an opportunist. I took advantage of my second chance with Stephanie and have worked diligently to avoid my past mistakes. They were lessons well learned for me.

I threw caution to the wind and put a ring on her finger. I’m selfish enough to want the world to see that she’s mine. It was a welcome surprise to discover that we were expecting. She doesn’t run scared at the thought and I don’t break into a sweat…we both call it a minor miracle. And I don’t hesitate to admit that we’ve already got the nursery decorated and the name picked out…so we might be excited as well.

While we’ve been together, she’s learned to fly and I’m finally grounded.

But perhaps the most important thing is that I’ve always been hers and she’s finally mine….irrevocably.