(Obnoxiously Long)Author's Note: This story is going to be a giant departure from canon. I have discovered over the years that I enjoy the FF versions of the Plum-verse far more than JE's actual work. However, there are already thousands of Stephanie stories out there. I started reading the series a decade ago. With time, I have developed quite the bone to pick with both Steph and JE. You could say we have a love/hate relationship. Before you begin on this new road untraveled in Trenton, please take a moment to hear me out.
Stephanie has been written in a way that is equally endearing and infuriating, at least for me. On the one hand, her "never quit" attitude is sweet, but her lack of actual character progression leaves me wanting more. Numerous times I have found it hard to believe that she still won't get proper training (physical and firearms). Frankly, after the events of OFTM, her first reaction should have been bettering herself if she was going to continue as a BEA. The fact that Lula was raped, nearly killed, and left on her fire escape should have been more than enough motivation. When everything ended, including her getting shot in the bum and killing a man, why did she not change her mentality?
I believe that answer lies in the fact that many people find it entertaining to watch her bumble and stumble about from one disaster to another. That type of character provides easy fodder for the author or her ghost-writers... As a woman, I find that highly insulting. I also think it's absurd. Sure, these stories are purely fictional, but I can't help but try and apply some reality (GASP!). In the real world, Steph would have either bettered herself for her own safety or she would have realized she was over her head and quit. Or she would have been dead by now. The idea that she would continue to work as a BEA without training leads one to believe that she is just plain stupid. And I for one do not want to think of Steph as stupid. Especially since I want to like her. The same can be said for the tedious love triangle crap. Twenty-five books later and she still can't make a decision of some sort… really? If one of my friends was acting the same, I would have slapped her silly by book 5.
Therefore, I have chosen to take some of JE's characters into an alternate fictional reality. This story will be based on the idea that after OFTM, Steph reevaluated her life and decided that bond enforcement wasn't for her. She received enough money from Morelli's capture to keep her afloat for a bit while she looked for a job elsewhere. That means for us, her story ended, or is simply in the background. However, we still have avenues to explore with Ranger and his many fine men… And let's face it, the Rangemen really are the best characters (aside from Edna).
This story will begin some time after the events with Ramirez/Alpha. After SP has decided to change jobs. She is still around, so is everyone else you are familiar with. The following events take place in and around Rangeman. New characters will be introduced, new friends will be made, and I am sure there will be eventual smut… it's unavoidable when Ranger is involved. This is a chance to see things from a different perspective and maybe hear some of the guy's stories too. Here's hoping that you can forgive my removal of Stephanie, but take solace that she is still nearby. Heck, she might even make an appearance.
I will say this once now and be done- I am not making any money, blah blah, just borrowing the JE characters, more blah blah. You get the point. Hope you all enjoy, or at the very least don't want to send a mob after me. Sorry this note is obnoxiously long, but I won't bother you again. A pinterest page has been created under the user rcmlap, you can find pictures of the characters and other bits to bring the story to life. I will be posting this in small chunks. More feedback makes me post faster... Thanks- Sara
Rangeman's Lil' Changes
1. Succinct
Ranger sat at the head of the conference room table, waiting for his men to finish their reports. It was a typical Monday morning meeting at Rangeman. Since expanding the Core Team to include Hector, Cal, and Ram six months ago, the meetings took a little longer. Maybe four minutes. Tank, being his second in command, would handle the operational items that needed to be addressed. Bobby and Lester would nod or answer at the appropriate times. This was how Ranger liked it, short and very much to the point. Succinct. Just how he preferred his life. Get in, handle business, get out. Anything else was a waste of time and energy. Energy that he would rather devote to catching criminals or building his business. There were some days he still found it funny that he was actually the CEO of a large company. With branches open in four major cities, he was making stupid money. This year he would break 100 employees, plus additional contract workers. He would also move into the multi-multi-million mark. Not bad for a Cuban former-punk and part-time government Mercenary. In three months, that contract would be up for renewal. He didn't know what he would do.
The men eyed him, waiting for a dismissal. "There have been some inconsistencies with the bookkeeping in Boston." Ranger's statement caught the others off guard. He continued, "I've already contacted Ramon, he's looking into it." Lester lifted his chin, "What kind of inconsistencies? Are we talking money?" The clenching of Ranger's jaw was all the answer they needed. You could always count on Lester for a joke or obnoxious comment. He had nothing. The idea of skimming from Ranger was unfathomable. "How much?" Leave it to Tank to get down to brass tacks. "Enough to raise a red flag now. And if it keeps up it'll be enough to require a clean-up crew when I'm done with the bodies. Dismissed." It was evident to everyone that Ranger was pissed. Having money stolen out from under his nose was bad enough. The fact that it was likely an employee was going to cause permanent damage somewhere. As the men filed out of the room, Cal caught Ranger's eye. "Do you have a minute Boss?" Ranger scanned Cal's body language, it was obvious he was nervous. "My office in ten", his only answer as he walked out of the room.
Nine and a half minutes later Cal tapped on the boss's door before walking in and shutting it quietly. As his large tattooed employee sat, Ranger waited. Outsider's thought Ranger had infinite patience based on his ability to sit still for hours on stake-out. The way he could outlast men in a stare-down. The fact that he didn't follow his gut instinct and punch most humans in the throat as soon as they opened their mouths. All of this spoke to his great patience. The truth was, Ranger had shit for patience. He learned the hard way, over many years, that self control was crucial to preservation. His own preservation. Being patient with other's drove him a little batty. A necessary evil to conduct business and stay alive. So he waited.
Cal cleared his throat, an unnatural affect for the former SEAL. "Rangeman, I need some time off." He rubbed his knuckles unconsciously over his flaming skull. "There's something personal I need to handle. I don't know how long, but I hope I can settle it quickly." Still, Ranger waited. Asking a question at this point would be a little too akin to polite conversation. Maybe one day he would learn to talk with his men about more than business or crime-fighting. Hell, even when speaking to the opposite sex, words were kept to a minimum. Succinct. Get in, handle business, get out. His mother and grandmothers were the only three people capable of squeezing more from him. Even that was sometimes like pulling teeth. To think, when he was little his sisters constantly accused him of talking too much. Maybe he used all his words before the age of ten. Something to think about.
Sighing, Cal leveled Ranger with a hard look. "It's family related. I have to do this. I owe this to her." Now the 'man in black' was intrigued. He knew Cal's file as well as everyone else to he employed and served with over the years. Ranger could probably recall every pertinent detail about his men's family, their history, their range accuracy over a decade, and when they lost their virginity. Shit, he likely knew how many times they shook their dicks after taking a piss. Not talking very often did not equate to lack of attention or observation. And Ranger knew that Cal was a foster child for most of his life. "Explain."
Cal leaned back in his guest chair. The slight relaxation in his shoulders was telling. Ranger hadn't immediately said no to his request. Unfortunately, he had gone to great lengths over the past thirteen years to keep their connection hidden. He wasn't ashamed of his sister, nothing could be further from the truth. He was trying to protect her, to repay her for all the years she had protected him. "My sister and niece need to relocate from Nevada. They might be in danger there. We've agreed that coming here would be the best for everyone." Ranger raised an eyebrow. "She's almost packed. They plan on driving straight here in the next few days. I just need some time to help them find a place, get settled." Cal squirmed in his seat, as much as a man his size could squirm. "I would have brought this to you sooner, but the shit all kinda hit the fan at once."
Ranger flipped through his mental record of Cal's civilian life, his Navy career, any noteworthy events recently taking place in Nevada. "I'm assuming this is a foster-sister? The daughter of the couple who took you in?" Cal nodded once. "Does she have money issues? Ex-boyfriend problems? A nasty husband that needs your attention?" Chuckling, Cal's answer of "the Mob" was not what Ranger expected. His jaw ticked tighter, the Ranger version of teeth grinding. Before his boss could lose his temper Cal plowed ahead. "Lillith was involved in a shooting four years ago while working at the Wynn in Vegas. It was a heist gone wrong, backed by one of the crime families. The ringleader of the group escaped the feds while his lackeys were either killed or arrested." Readjusting his posture he continued, "She was in the room with the hostages, stared into his eyes. She knows who he is, and he knows her face. Last week she saw him on the streets while taking her daughter to the park. Lil called the police to report it right away. Response time was a joke. The FBI isn't interested in offering her protection. So I am."
Sitting back in his plush chair Ranger steepled his fingers. The Mob was always tricky. He had vague connections with three of the families in the area thanks to Connie Rosolli, Harry the Hammer, and Alexander Ramos. But trying to anticipate every move made by a Family was more difficult that predicting the lottery numbers. His "connections" were tenuous at best. The part of him that hated entanglements was screaming to not get involved. The security expert was already cataloging the possible problems with finding her a safe home in New Jersey. The commanding officer side was acknowledging that his man needed assistance and his company was the best bet. Luckily for Cal, there was still a lot of Ranger left in Ranger.
"What's her baggage? Status? Plan?" Cal bristled. He didn't like giving anyone her personal information, even a man he trusted with his own life. And he would NEVER consider his niece to be baggage. These were the questions Rangeman used when speaking of a client on a high profile security job. "She's single. Basically retired. Financially stable. She has one three-year old daughter and a Rottweiler that's huge." Deep breath. "Her plan at this point is to remove them from any possible danger. After that it's wide open, aside from needing to be near a rehab center. Lil needs to attend PT for a while for an old injury." Ranger nodded. Cal's answers were short and sweet. He was leaving details out, but he was succinct. Ranger could appreciate her desire to leave NV. He applauded her willingness to move across the country to protect her daughter. A daughter. A kid, shit, a toddler. What the fuck were they going to do with a toddler? The giant dog was less disturbing. At least Rottweiler's could be trained. Half the time he thought of Santos as a toddler. Fuck. The only obvious answer in the equation was Bobby's ability to handle any physical therapy she needed.
"We have an open apartment on four, a two-bedroom. Would that suit their needs for a while?" Ranger almost smirked as Cal picked his chin up off the floor. "You want me to bring them HERE boss? I don't know if that's such a good idea. I'm not sure Lil would like it either. She's pretty independent." This time Ranger did smirk. "Don't want the guys near your sister? You have my permission to take Lester to the mats before she comes." Cal's bark of laughter filled the room. "I'm not worried about her, I'd be worried for them. She can have a mean streak if she's pushed. And I'm not sure that motherhood as made her any less of a mama bear." A marginal head tilt was Ranger's only response. "Boss, I don't know."
Logically Cal did know it was the safest place for them to go. The discomfort of mixing work and family was weighty though. In all fairness, it would likely be even more uncomfortable for Ranger. He didn't want to cause issues in the building, distractions for the business, or problems for his sister. Sensing the hesitation, Ranger relieved Cal of his burden. "The decision is made. They will come here. Inform Ella. Set up a meeting with the Core Team for 0700 tomorrow. Dismissed." See, succinct.
Cal raised his eyebrows as he quickly stood at attention. Years of military training made his body respond to that tone of voice, regardless of the words spoken. "I want the police report and ALL necessary information on my desk in two hours." Cal threw an "Understood" over his shoulder as he opened Ranger's door. Realizing he now had to call his sister and make this OK, his pace quickened down the hall. He opened his phone and dialed a 702 area code. "Lilly-pad, it's me. There's been a slight change in plans. Call me as soon as you get this. Kiss the Peanut." He hung up and hurried to his cubicle to make the calls and print a mountain of reports for Ranger. Maybe he should have been a bit more honest about his sister and her history. Maybe Ranger wouldn't ship him off when he realized the door he just opened. Maybe Lester would declare his celibacy tomorrow.
Cal plunked a stack of pages on Ranger's desk while he was in the gym. Three inches of dead trees would tell Ranger all about Lillith's history, her life up to this point, the shooting in Vegas. Her many career accolades. Her medical history. All of the Mob info dug up from the incident, as well as the fed's assumptions. Shit, her preferred brand of deodorant might have been in there. Cal tried to not feel like a traitor for giving his sister's entire life in black and white to Ranger. He took some satisfaction in the fact that her driver's license picture was low quality. As he slipped back out the door his cell phone rang.
Ranger returned to his office after lunch. The pile on his desk was troubling. Glancing at the top page he realized he was looking at a mound of information on their new tenant. Ranger's eyes widened slightly. That was a lot of paper. Not at all succinct.