"Nothing Really Matters" by Mr. Probz was the inspiration for this story. Everybody and everything familiar are Janet's. The mistakes are mine alone.

Who needs oxygen? Is what I think whenever I inhale the now familiar scent of the perfume I'd had specifically made for Stephanie for her birthday three weeks ago. I worked closely with a 'scentologist' - a made up fucking title if ever I heard one - and combined the similar fragrance of the Bulgari she loves, with something called 'ocean air'. I'd found a way of my scent being all over her, while also keeping it her own. And both the perfume and the woman wearing it everyday are hard-on triggers.

We'd spent the daylight hours of her birthday together, then she was due to spend the evening - and probably the night - with Morelli. She didn't. He claimed he had to work and wanted to raincheck the day of her birth. After weeks of hearing the same excuse whenever she wanted to do something besides have sex with him, she was tired of it, and of him. One morning not long after their split, she told Ella that she would have understood if he'd been called in to work a homicide - that came with dating a cop - but she found out that he canceled her birthday plans just to do a favor for a friend ... at the expense of his girlfriend.

It was a dick move, yet I like the guy for pulling it. I'd wanted to knock his teeth into his throat for hurting Stephanie, but I was also considering thanking him for showing her the reality of what her life would be like with him. I made it a point to remain in town after that day. And it's been paying off. I get to see with my own eyes that she's alright, not relying on a phone call from one of my men, or an aside from her officer friends when I'm at the station. And she seemed to really respond to me giving up being 'in the wind' to stay nearby ... near her.

Today for instance, instead of her heading home after shutting down everything in her cubby, she came straight to my office.

"Are you busy?" She asked, sticking her head in my partially-open door.

"I'm never too busy for you, Babe."

And we both know I mean it. She came all the way in, sat in the chair in front of my desk, and stayed with me until the end of my day, which led to me asking her out for tonight. She'd been laughing at something Lester had said to her on his way by, and I felt the words fly out of my mouth.

"Spend the night with me," I told her.

Her expression went from carefree to cautious, and I instantly backed off ... but only so far. I have her where I want her and I won't be pushing her away this time.

"A date, Steph," I clarified. "That's all I'm asking for right now."

She stared at me for a full thirty seconds before shaking her head to clear the conclusion she'd jumped to, then she glanced at her watch.

"It's seven-thirty, Ranger. You should be thinking about getting some sleep, not about taking me out."

"I don't require a lot of sleep. I can stay awake all night, every night if I need to."

And I'll gladly stay up tonight if she winds up in my bed with me.

The conversation was just getting interesting when we were interrupted by Tank's body filling my doorway.

"Dillson's dealing on Comstock," he informed me.

I just made plans for the evening, and they sure as fuck don't include a high bond asshole.

"Give me five minutes," I said to him.

His eyes flicked to Steph then back to me. He nodded once and took off. I refocused my attention back to her.

She sighed. "Maybe we can do the date thing another time," she told me.

"No. We can still salvage the night. I should only be gone about an hour. Go on up to my apartment and Ella will bring you something to eat while you wait. When I'm back, I'll take over enticing you ... with something other than food."

I saw her shiver. Good. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow morning with her scent all over me. I moved from behind my desk and leaned over her chair, trapping her in it by placing my hands on both arms.

"Will you wait here for me?" I asked her.

My face was close enough to see her eyes shift back and forth as she searched mine for hidden motives. After a tense moment, she must have understood that I'm not pushing for more than she's comfortable giving.

"Yeah ... I'll be here."

I gave her time to draw back if she wanted to, but she didn't. And I took her mouth in a kiss that made it clear that she's the one I need, not the other way around.

"I'll be back, Babe," I said against her lips. "Call Ella."

I pressed my mouth to hers again and then walked away while I still could. Every time I see her, the attraction gets even stronger. Most men would be buying condoms by the case when they realize the woman they want, wants them back, but nothing about Stephanie Plum is a sure bet. She can say she loves you even as she purposely stays away from you. She isn't distancing herself tonight, and I'm going to seize the opportunity I've just been given.

Tank and I weren't even out of the garage when my cell buzzed. I one-handed the wheel and checked the screen.

"Babe," I said a beat later.

"You sort of distracted me and I forgot to tell you to be careful. So ... be careful, okay?"

"I will," I promised.

She hung up, and the internal smile her call caused remained until we reached Comstock, and became aware that our simple capture is about to become a homicide once I get my hands on the fucker.

"Shit," Tank said, accurately summing this clusterfuck up.

"You get the woman, leave him to me."

Having four sisters and a daughter to look out for, causes something in me to snap whenever I see a man mistreating a woman. This particular woman being the asshole's girlfriend, made me even more pissed. I pictured Stephanie's face in my mind, and the thought of some dickhole doing the same to her, had my boots moving faster.

"If that hand comes down on her again," I told him, valiantly keeping the flood of rage out of my voice, "I'll make damn sure you're shitting out your spleen tonight in the ER. And that's only if I choose not to kill you right here."

"He does seem like a waste of fucking skin," Tank said, pulling the blond out of Dillson's loosened grasp.

"Don't hurt him! He's the father of my baby!" The woman shrieked, struggling against Tank's hold.

"I ain't no one's father," Dillson spat out. "She's a lying little bitch."

The skin beneath her bruises turned ghostly white and I caught Tank's eye. An ambulance will likely be needed before the meat wagon. I'm praying Dillson is correct. No child should be saddled with him for a parent. I grabbed his throat and squeezed hard enough to get his attention and complicate his breathing.

"Never put your hands on a woman," I told him. "Hearing that she's pregnant makes me think your dick and balls should be removed, along with your hands for hitting her. If I were you, I'd shut the fuck up before I no longer care about a paycheck and take you out. You don't have to worry about being a father, a dad, or a free man, since your ass is going to be rotting in prison."

"You should be more concerned about becoming someone's bitch than about a paternity suit," Tank added.

Now Dillson paled. He deserves whatever - and whoever - comes at him. He should have kept his dick covered, his mouth shut, and his hands to himself. I don't give two shits about him, but the girlfriend and unborn child will continue to weigh on me. A child should be born to parents who want it. I thought of Julie again, and silently thanked God for Rachel and Ron who gave her what I couldn't.

Since I held myself back from hitting Morelli, Dillson got twice the force of my anger when I did what his girlfriend couldn't. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth and holding his ribs by the time I signaled Tank to cuff him. I didn't want the 'happy couple' to be anywhere near each other, so I called an ambulance just to make sure the baby hadn't receive the same treatment as its mother's face. The EMTs took over her care, while Tank and I handled the skip after a quick bandage job on his face.

The sky was completely dark and the stars all out when we got word that Dillson's hopefully ex-girlfriend had been admitted to St. Francis for tests. Dillson had finally been reintroduced to a cell where a prick like him belongs indefinitely when the call had come in that the ER is erring on the side of caution. I forcefully pushed the woman and child from my mind, and reminded myself who's inside my apartment waiting for me to return.

Tank cut his eyes to me when he noticed me glancing at my watch for the third time.

"You're not going to pull that 'she completes me' shit, are you?"

"No."

Though Steph does feel like something my life had been missing.

"You look like a man who's suddenly in a hurry to get his ass home."

"And?"

He paused, then chanced saying what was on his mind. "She's good for you. And good for Rangeman."

That's all he said on the subject, but that's as close to a ringing endorsement as anyone is likely to get from Tank. I have to agree. I've never needed a moral compass, but Stephanie has slowly become one to me. Whenever I feel myself slipping into my old life, I think of her - or visit her - to get myself back on track. Like tonight, Dillson ended up in a cell ... instead of me ending his life there on the street.

What has surprised me is how good she is at reading me, and she's come up with her own ways to calm me down when I'm sure nothing can. There's a certain look she gives me, when her blue eyes go from concerned to playful, that let's me know I'll be fine no matter what had happened that day to cause a mood shift.

I left Tank at the door for the fifth floor and made my way to the penthouse. Stephanie was rapidly pacing the length of my kitchen. Tank appears to be onto something. I know now what it's like to want to come home at night. I'm either getting old or stupid, because I'm finding the feeling comforting rather than unacceptable.

She sensed my presence before she saw me standing there.

"You took a lot longer than an hour," she said, scanning my body in a way usually reserved for hers after an emergency call. "I was starting to get worried."

"Starting?" I asked, having noted the increase in her pacing speed before she spotted me.

"So maybe I passed worried thirty minutes ago. Everything's okay?" She asked, coming to stand in front of me.

"Yes. There was a side issue to deal with, but it's been handled."

"Good. I was about to call again just to check on you."

"I've been taking care of myself for a long time," I said, reaching out to close the small distance between us. "You never have to worry about me."

"I probably don't need to, but I always do."

That's a big confession for a woman like her. She went quiet as she took in my subdued demeanor, once again gauging the situation and my emotions correctly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked me.

"No."

I have a lot of fears and regrets regarding my daughter, and I don't want to relive them anymore tonight.

"I don't see evidence of Ella anywhere," I said, changing the subject.

"I told her I was okay, and that she didn't need to fix me anything."

"Babe."

"What? I don't hang around you to get stuff or to have people wait on me."

I slid my fingers into her curls and brushed my thumb along her temple.

"Why do you hang around me then?" I asked.

"You get me in a way no one else does, most likely because you're like the grown up version of me."

That isn't the answer I'd been expecting.

"How do you figure that?"

"You live your life on your own terms, you do your job your way, and you never apologize for either one."

"Because I have nothing to apologize for. And neither do you, Steph."

"That's the biggest difference between us. I still occasionally feel like I do. But being around you for any length of time reinforces the idea that having a life based solely on what I want is okay."

"Whatever you want for yourself is okay. No one's opinion should matter as much as your own."

She smiled up at me. "See ... that's exactly what I'm talking about. You make me feel like I actually have a brain inside my head, and also that I'm capable of using it."

"You do have a brain, and it's busier than most. Are you hungry?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. I'm good. I had a late lunch and then a scare when you didn't come back right away. Food isn't important right now."

"What is?"

"This is going to sound stupid ..."

"Don't do that, Babe. If you want something, ask for it."

She blew out a breath, which softly grazed my cheek as I leaned in closer. "I just want to sit on the couch with you and watch an old movie, the weather, or something else equally mind-numbing."

"Looking for a sense of normalcy?" I asked.

"I guess. Or maybe I'm glad that you weren't hurt, and feel like making out with you on the sofa for a while to convince myself that you're fine."

I brought my mouth down on hers, using my lips and tongue to express my own feelings. I can do normal if that's what she's after. There's very little I won't do if she's the one who will benefit from it. Tonight will be all about her. And tomorrow ... we'll get started on establishing us.