Disclaimer: JE owns them. I do not.


Size Matters


Stephanie's POV

"It'll fit," Ranger promised.

"I still say it isn't going to," I whined.

We'd been staring at the problem for over twenty minutes, neither of us wanting to be found wrong. It had been a long five hours with company over, and we wanted to just relax with the two of us finally.

"Babe, I've done this for years. I put big things in tight spaces more than I'd like to admit. Certainly more than you would want to know about. Give me some credit here. I'm good. Very good."

I sighed. "I know you are, Carlos, but I've looked at this from every possible angle, and I just don't see how something that big is going to fit in that small a space!"

"Come on, Babe. It isn't that small. See, there's a space here," he said, reaching in with one finger and pointing. "And another over here." He moved his finger to the other side.

"That isn't that big!" I screeched at him.

He just had to be right and set out to point every bit of space that it would fit into.

"Fine. You want to try first, be my guest," he grumbled, setting it down.

I reached down and picked it up, holding it in my hands and feeling its weight. "God, this reminds me of earlier," I groaned. "It was so delicious!"

"I enjoyed it, too. You certainly moaned enough for both of us, though!" Ranger said, laughing.

"I can't help it! It was good. Very good. The best I've had in a while, actually," I admitted.

"Morelli never do that for you?" He chuckled.

I glared at him. "Not like this. Never like this."

I spent ten minutes trying my damnedest to make the thing fit, but no matter what angle or position, it just wasn't working, and I was getting incredibly frustrated.

Seeing my frustration, Ranger reached down and took it from my hands. "Babe, you're going to break it. Let me try again," he said.

Mr. Blank Face, Mr. I'm Too Cool To Let Anything Show, was suddenly looking a bit nervous. We stood there for ten more minutes, waiting for Ranger to find the right spot, but knowing that every time he put it in, it just wasn't working.

Finally, Ranger and I gave up. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed a number I'd finally committed to memory.

When Bobby answered the phone, I whined, "Bobby, it won't fit! It's too big. Please, help us make it fit!"

Bobby started laughing so loudly that I had to hold the phone away from my ear. Ranger's eyes narrowed, and he held a hand out for the phone.

"Thanks for the help, Brown," he grumbled before hanging up.

Without saying a word, Ranger flipped the phone open again and dialed another number. "Santos, seven. Now."

Two minutes later, we heard the front door open, and Lester came walking in. His eyes got great big as he looked at our predicament. "Problems, Boss? Beautiful, you're looking a bit frustrated."

I grumbled. "We've been trying to make this fit for nearly thirty minutes! I called Bobby, but he was no help."

Lester laughed. "That's why I heard him down the hall laughing," he said. "Mind if I take a picture? He's going to wish he'd seen this."

Ranger and I growled our protest, but he clicked his phone quickly before we could do anything about it.

"So, what can I do?" he asked.

"Ranger, give it to him and let him try to put it in," I said. "Careful, Les, don't break it! It's one of my favorites!"

Lester took it gently from Ranger's hands, turning it to look at it from every angle. He tried gently sliding it in and knew immediately it wasn't going to fit there. Then he put one hand in, shoved to make room, and then tried to force it in. His knuckles were white and his face was turning red with the effort.

"Fuck! This thing is just massive, isn't it? Have you thought about just splitting it into pieces and putting them where you can find room?" he asked us seriously.

"No!" I told him. "It's all or nothing. If you can't help, just leave. We'll figure it out."

"Sorry, Beautiful. I've had lots of experience with this type of stuff, but never with one this big before. I'm not sure how to handle it," he said quietly as he handed it back to Ranger.

As Lester let himself back out of the apartment, Ranger and I just looked at each other. We knew if we kept it out much longer, it would spoil, but neither of us wanted to admit defeat, so we continued to try to think of a solution.

Ranger handed me my phone and took his from the table. "Hi, Mom. Thank you for coming over earlier. It was good to see you and Dad. Listen, Steph and I have a problem. It's too big to fit! We've tried everything—pushing stuff aside to make room, moving it slowly, forcing it. Nothing is working. Any advice?"

I could hear the low murmur of a voice over the phone, but couldn't make out any words. Finally, Ranger hung up the phone.

"What'd she say?" I asked.

Ranger carefully reached around to grab a bottle. He poured some into his hands and began to rub.

"She said maybe grease it up some and it would slide in easier."

Once it was all lubed up, he tried sliding it in once more, and I winced when I heard a cracking sound. "Stop! You're breaking it!"

Ranger sighed and pulled it back out. "Babe, I think we need to call in the big guns."

My eyes got great big and my mouth fell open. I so did not want to do that. "Ranger, no! We can't!"

"I know, Babe, but if we stand here like this any longer, everything will be ruined."

"Fine," I growled, pulling my phone back out.

I hit the number five on my speed dial, and soon, my mom answered the phone.

"Mom? It's Stephanie. I know you and Dad were just here for Thanksgiving dinner, but we have a problem. Could you please come over and help us fit the damn leftover turkey in the refrigerator?"