A/N: This was inspired by a text message I received today from an old friend. Whilst happily married, I still turn into a pool of mush around my mate, Steve – and vice versa; the D/H finds this hilarious and ribs us both about it. I've not seen or heard from Steve in ages, and today he dropped me a text to see how life was going. For a few brief seconds, hot, wicked images danced though my head. I see Steve as a good friend and maybe the guy I'm dating in an alternative universe/dimension.

Somehow my naughty muse decided to return from her hiatus and made me write this. She's been bugging me all day, and I know it's just not going to be a one shot. Written from Steph's POV – so be gentle on me, as it's not something I normally do.

Can You Have Your Cake & Eat It?

Chapter One

I bet you all thought you'd never see the day that I hung up my Golden Lasso of Truth and funky hot pants, or stopped playing Catwoman to Ranger's Batman. Well, it happened. The bombshell bounty hunter got out of bed one day and decided to change her life.

Well actually, I climbed out of a dumpster belonging to the local Chinese restaurant, after falling out of a second story window following a tussle with a skip. While dripping with egg fried rice and stir fried vegetables, I suddenly knew that I could not keep doing this forever. Something had to give.

That was six months ago and I now spend my time looking after Aunt Rose's row house, walking Bob the dog, picking up after my boyfriend, Joe and volunteering at the local woman's shelter down on Sloane.

What, did you expect me to be knocked up and married? Not likely, still not going to happen. I was happy with my life right now, happier than I'd been in a long time. A little part of me missed bounty hunting, but I made up for that with my work at the shelter. I was still doing good work for the community, and that was enough. My relationship with Joe was steady and the best it had ever been. He didn't mind that I spent so much of my spare time helping out at the women's refuge. Said that I needed something to keep me out of mischief. So everything was great, right?

Sort of, well maybe. Okay, it was until last night. Once a week I do a sleep over shift at the shelter, and around 4AM the alarms went off. I hauled my ass off the camp bed in the office, checked the building over, saw no signs of a break in and was re-setting the system in the office when I could feel someone behind me. Gun in hand – you just never know if someone's crazy ex is going to turn up with a knife – I span around and came face to face with Lester Santos.

We looked at each other, both clearly shocked to see one another and stood there of a few beats, saying nothing. Les finally broke the silence, and I found out that Rangeman provided the security on the building for free, and that he got the call out when the alarm tripped. His loft apartment is only a few blocks over, so unless he is away, he volunteers to cover out of hours call outs on the place.

Les checked the system, and over a cup of coffee or two I caught up on the gritty world of fugitive apprehension, and Les caught up on the not quite so explosive antics of the now retired bombshell bounty hunter. We chatted happily for ages, and it was only when the Rangeman control room rang to find out what the incident status was, we realized it was now 6AM.

Les gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek and told me to keep up the good work, and his fine ass sauntered out the door and into the early dawn light. And damn, what an ass it was – and the rest of him was pretty hot too.

I bet you are all sitting there yelling at your computer, wanting to know what happened with Ranger. Well… Nothing. Yes, you heard me right, nothing. After my life changing epiphany, I went to Haywood to see Ranger. He offered me a job behind a desk running searches, but I declined. I'd have been crazy, okay – crazier by the time the week was out. You remember that incident with a stapler and a guy's nuts? Well after a week of me being stuck on the fifth floor, that would be Rodriguez's fate. Plus I'd be drowning in testosterone, have to smuggle junk food in and no doubt something would happen to my clothes that would have had me returning home from work with no shoes or panties on. Again. So I told Ranger thanks, but no thanks.

He didn't call me, and after a week of me sitting on my hands so I didn't call him, life moved on. Okay, so maybe it took me two weeks. Fine! So I got Mary Lou to remove him from my speed dial, happy now?

I did miss him, but I began to realize that my relationship with him was in just as much of an unhealthy pattern of behavior as the one I had with Joe. Ranger was never going to step up, and I could never for one second believe that we would live happily ever after. Joe, well we just dropped back into the old routine. But without Ranger to distract me, the arguments tapered off and Joe and I could calmly talk things through. For the first time in my life, I was having a healthy, adult relationship. And until 4AM yesterday, I would have said that it suited me.

So what happened? Lester Santos happened, that's what. In those two pre-dawn hours I realized that a leopard just can't change its spots. I was still a walking disaster and crazy things still happened around me. I'd foolishly thought that by walking away from bond enforcement, my life would change overnight. It took seeing Lester to knock some sense into me. His presence also made me see that I was missing the Rangeman guys. Over the years, I'd gotten to know them really well, and without a reason to go to the Haywood offices, our paths just weren't crossing anymore.

I was never going to be the perfect housewife, and still refused to move in the same circles as most other women on Joe's street. As a result, I was pretty lonely at times. I still saw Connie and Lula, but it just wasn't the same. I missed Tank, Bobby and Les. I missed the reassuring sight of a black SUV in my rear view mirror, and most of all I missed the thrill and adrenalin rush of a distraction job well done. The Bombshell bounty hunter was getting the feeling that she may have made a mistake.

I folded the last of the laundry and stacked it in the basket ready to go up stairs, grabbed the paper and another cup of coffee, contemplated what to eat for lunch, and sat down at the small kitchen table. My hands turned it to the back and the job section before I was even aware of what I was doing, and then suddenly my cell beeped.

I flipped it open and glanced at the text message.

Hey beautiful! Great to C U last nite :-)

Lunch Shorties 2?

Les

And before I could stop myself, I was hitting reply.

Cool. C U there

Steph

This is a harmless just lunch between two old friends, right? Right?

TBC