Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns all characters, though if I could, I'd own Morelli. Ranger too.

Today was a two layer mascara type of day. In fact, most every day for the last year has been a two layer mascara day. I'm Stephanie Plum, bond enforcement officer, sometimes girlfriend of Joe Morelli, proud owner of a hamster, part owner of a dog, and in serious need of a new job. When I started working at my cousin Vincent's bail bond company I never thought I'd keep the job, yet here I am still running around town chasing after skips, ruining all my best clothes in the process.

I was on my last pair of jeans. All the other pairs had rips in the knees, grass or food stains that wouldn't come out, or worse, burn marks from those angry arsonists who really didn't want to be bothered with rescheduling their court dates. I was standing outside Lenny Cartwright's house, fuming at the fact that once again, I had a door slammed in my face. Lenny was FTA, which meant failure to appear, and it was my job to bring him to the cop shop so Vinnie wouldn't lose out on the bond money he'd put up for him.

As always I knocked on the door, gave my spiel about how I was just there to get him to reschedule and it would only take a little of his time. Lenny of course knew better, and that was when he slammed the door in my face. Of course I knew what would happen next, things always progressed the same from this moment. Inside there would be the sound of feet running through the house, Lenny would bust out the back door, I'd chase him, eventually catching him and pulling him down into a large pile of garbage. I'd catch him, cuff him, and haul him off to the station, but not before ripping the knees out of my pants, getting tomato sauce in my hair, and making the usual mess of myself, thus ruining my day, and my outfit, and providing all the cops at the precinct their much needed comedy relief.

If I weren't in desperate need of the money I would have just left. The truth of the matter though, was that my rent was due two days ago, and I had ten dollars in my purse. Even with eating dinner at my parents, and cutting back on my food spending I was barely making ends meet. Okay so maybe I had bought a few pairs of shoes that I probably didn't need, but if I was about to be homeless I'd need nice stilettos to make me feel better. So I was left with three options. First I could call Ranger, my mentor and the bane of my sexual existence. That option was out. I knew he'd help me, but the idea of owing Ranger never sat well in my stomach, or Joe's for that matter, and since we were in the middle of the on again portion of our relationship I thought it best to check out my other options. Option number two, I could call Lula, again, not my ideal choice. Lula was of the bigger persuasion, and a former ho' which gave her a very colorful wardrobe and view on life. My last option was to just go for it; after all, what was the worst that could happen?

Hearing rustling in the house I darted around the back and caught Lenny as he was jumping over the rusted chain link fence that surrounded the small dirt yard. My hands clasped tightly around his grimy white shirt and we both tumbled to the ground, landing on top of a week's worth of ripped up garbage bags. Great. According to plan I cuffed Lenny while he was distracted with trying to get the rotted pudding out of his hair.

We walked to the front of the house where my newest car was parked. The sight of it sent waves of nausea through my stomach, and I hoped that when I finally ran out of money, it would be the first thing to go. I wasn't sure what I was complaining about, honestly it wasn't the worst car I've ever had. For one thing it ran, and it wasn't the Buick, so it had that going for it, but that is where the positives ended. This car was purple, which would have been okay if it wasn't shaped like a jellybean. It was a late ninety's Geo Metro, with no hubcaps, and horrible neon pink pinstripes running down the side.

"You've got to be kidding me." Lenny was stopped dead in his tracks.

"No, I'm not. You're riding in this car, and if you refuse to get in I'll shoot you in the foot."

"Bullshit. You probably don't even have a gun."

That was true. As always my gun was at home in my cookie jar, and I hadn't loaded it in months. Sometimes I carried it in my purse, just in case I needed to hit someone with a heavy object, but that was a very rare occasion. I shoved and shoved until I got Lenny in the back seat. Honestly, the man had week old pudding in his hair and something I hoped was ranch dressing covering his shirt. Aside from all that he still felt the need to hunker down in the seat, hoping no one would notice him. Most of the people I pick up are embarrassed that they are being arrested; but lately they have all be more scared they'd be seen in the bubble car.

The Trenton Police department is kind of like that age-old question: Which came first, the chicken or the egg? In it's case the question is which came first, the building or the ghetto. Trenton PD is located in a brick building right in the middle of crime central. Attached to it is the courthouse, which is a good thing for most FTAs because they can instantly get bonded back out. I drove around back so I could drop Lenny off and get my body receipt, silently praying the dock lieutenant would either be new, or kind enough not to call the whole squad down to see me.

Luck was not on my side.

As soon as I walked in the door the phone was picked up and minutes later half the force was standing at the end of the hall, looking me over. Eddie Gazarra, a long time friend, was the only one to approach me.

"Say anything and I'll shoot you." I took my body receipt and turned to leave.

"We don't even get to hear the story?"

"You've heard this story twenty times before, it isn't any different than the last time." As I turned to face him I noticed he had his phone open in his hand. "Who are you calling?"

"I'm not calling anyone, I'm taking pictures." A smile spread across his face as the guys behind him backed up slowly. "We've started a bulletin board upstairs with pictures of you on it."

"Ugh." I turned on my heel and left, I didn't have the energy or enough mascara to care.

I climbed into the bubble and headed towards Hamilton so I could hand off the body receipt to Connie and get my money. Just as I pulled out of the police lot my phone rang. Morelli.

"What?" This wouldn't be good; it never was when he called so soon after I left.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Who called you?"

"No one called me, Gazarra sent me the picture. Cupcake, you need a new job."

"Tell me something I don't know." And I hung up. I wasn't in the mood to have this conversation with him, again.

When I pulled up to the bonds office Lula's firebird was parked out front. Odd, considering it was Friday, and Lula never came in on Friday anymore. Even more odd because half the time Lula never came to work at all. Soon after I started Lula was hired by Vinnie to do the filing. Her only qualification was that she wouldn't put up with his sexual harassment. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if Lula knew the alphabet.

"Let me guess," Connie said when I walked in the door. "Lenny Cartwright ran, you chased him, and somehow rolled in garbage."

"Isn't that how it usually works?" I dropped the papers on her desk and she pulled a checkbook out of her top desk drawer.

"With you it is."

Connie was about my age, but that is where the similarities stop. She had more of everything than I did, more attitude, more hips, more boobs, more hair. The last one wasn't anything I'd wish for though, since some of that hair found it's way onto her upper lip. Her desk sat right in front of Vinnie's door in order to keep people out, and as far as I knew, it worked. Connie may seem like your typical Jersey girl, but I knew she kept a few guns in her desk, and a few mob bosses in her family tree.

"Where's Lula?" The filing cabinets that sat in the hall leading to the back storage room were all open, as though someone were working at them.

"Right here." Turning around I saw Lula dressed, well, normal. She had on plain black slacks, with a white v-neck t-shirt and a blue blazer over it. The clothes actually fit her, and very little was hanging out anywhere. "Cluck in a Bucket was having a special so I made a lunch run."

"But your car was out front, how did you get there?"

"I walked."

"You walked?" My eyebrows shot up and my mouth dropped open. Lula didn't walk anywhere. She'd take her car to pick up her mail from the mailbox in front of her house.

"Hunh. People walk places all the time. You think I don't walk anywhere?"

"I know you don't walk anywhere."

"Well that was the old Lula. New Lula walks, and dresses for the job."

"What the hell happened to old Lula?"

"Don't ask." Connie whispered to me, and slipped me my check.

"You want lunch or not?" Lula was setting out the food on Connie's desk. A bucket of chicken, a tub of coleslaw, a tub of potato salad, a box of biscuits, and a chocolate cake. My mouth started to water as I took in the cake, but the smell of my clothes was making me slightly sick.

"Can't. I've gotta go home and shower."

"You know what your problem is?" Lula ask as she loaded her plate full of grease and food. "You don't dress the part. See, I figured it out. That's why I was such a horrible filer."

"You were a horrible filer because you never did anything." Connie said as she shoveled potato salad into her mouth.

"Shows what you know. I was a horrible filer because I still dressed like a ho'. Now that I dress like an office worker I'll be such an amazing filer you're gonna wanna give me a raise. You'll see."

That was my cue to leave. I slipped out the front door, and angled myself into my car. Driving down Hamilton I headed for my apartment. I live in a three-story brick building that is most filled with seniors, and one senorita. My place is on the second floor and overlooks the parking lot. Most people would think it was a horrible view, but in my own experience it has come in handy.

I hung my keys on the hook just inside the door, went in the kitchen to give my hamster Rex a carrot, then headed for the bathroom. Most people own laundry baskets, not me. Instead I have a garbage can that I throw all my ruined clothes in. Today the can was full.

After I showered until my skin was bright pink I felt disinfected enough to dry off and dress. Problem. I had no more jeans, the pair I had on was my last one. I found a pair of sweats, and pulled on a plain gray shirt that Morelli had left here. The fridge would be empty, and the thought of Chicken had me drooling slightly. I knew I should have stuck around and eaten before I left.

For dinner I could go to my parents house and bum food, but that was still hours away. Of course I could go for lunch, but one meal at my parents was enough, and I didn't want to explain why I was wearing pajamas around in the daytime. My mother would make the sign of the cross and pound back a shot of whiskey, and I would have to listen about how every other woman in the burg has a nice normal daughter. The burg is where my parents live, and where I'm always pulled back to. It's a blue-collar neighborhood where yards are small, families are close and your windows better be clean or your neighbors will talk. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and I mean everything.

My mind was made up. I had my check in hand and I grabbed my shoulder bag and keys and headed downstairs for my car. The bank had a drive through, and so did Cluck in a Bucket. I could get my money and my food and no one would even see me. Taking the stairs I avoided contact with my neighbors, since they didn't walk well and relied solely on the elevator. God forbid we have a fire, again. Just as I got out into the lot I turned to look around and make sure no one would see me when I slammed into someone sending me falling back onto my butt. Great. If I ripped a hole in these sweats, I'd have to go out bottomless.

"Babe," Ranger was staring down at him, holding his hand out.

"What?" I screamed through gritted teeth. Don't get me wrong I love seeing Ranger, but not when I'm dressed in ratty clothes and still have something stuck in my hair that I'm calling grape jelly.

"Rough day." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Ranger knew everything, he knew more than the old ladies in the burg knew. And that was a lot.

"Lenny Cartwright."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. And I ruined my last pair of jeans. So now I am going to cash my check, get something to eat and find a way to get some real pants to wear."

"I've got a better plan, and it doesn't involve wearing pants." His fingers traced the line of my jaw and my legs instantly tightened.

"Would this plan involve fried chicken? Or chocolate cake?" My mind was blank, but my stomach was still sending transmissions to it.

"Babe,"

"Sorry, I'll have to pass." I wasn't even sure if Ranger had ever had chocolate cake, and I knew nothing I did with him would involve real dessert. He kissed the top of my head and got into his black Porsche Turbo.

I climbed inside the purple bean car and headed for the bank, swiping another layer of mascara onto my lashes. That's the thing about burg girls. At a very young age we learn that if there is a problem, or stress in your life you eat a piece of cake and add another layer of mascara. Even if we go out in pajamas at least our lashes will look good.

After I hit the bank and got my bucket of chicken I headed off to 7-Eleven. Inside I rushed around, grabbing a six-pack of corona, a few candy bars, a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of crappy white bread. No one in the store gave me a second glance. Probably because the guy in the back of the store was wearing tight pink spandex shorts and a mesh shirt. Compared to him I looked like I was going to a debutant ball.

Clothes would have to wait. Maybe I could convince Lula to run to the mall for me and grab me a few pairs of pants and some shirts. After she got off work I'd give her a call, except I wasn't exactly sure when she'd get off work since Lula had never worked regular hours before. Reaching for my cell phone I dialed the office and asked Connie if Lula was still around.

"Hello, Lula speaking, how may I help you?"

"What?"

"What you mean what? It's the way you answer a phone when someone calls an office, don't you know nothing?"

"I just wanted to know what time you were getting off work."
"You got another skip you going after? You need me to ride along?"

"Actually I ripped my last pair of pants, and I was hoping you could run to the mall and pick some up for me."

"Can't you just go?"

"I don't have anything to wear out, didn't you hear me? I ripped my last pair of pants!"

"Sheesh. You don't gotta yell at me. Not like I ripped your pants."

"Will you go for me or not?"

"Sure. Macy's is having a shoe sale and I need some more professional looking shoes. Maybe I'll get some of those loafers I always see the business folks wearing."

"Stop over and I'll give you some cash and you can take the tag off the old pair so you know what to get."

When I hung up I was nervous. Lula was in some new fashion craze and I had a feeling if I sent her off to get me jeans, she'd come back with something else, something she felt was more what a bounty hunter would wear. I was biting my nails when there was a knock on my front door. It wasn't Joe, because he had a key, and Ranger never knocked. Opening up I saw Dillion the apartment super.

"Hey. What's up?" I stepped back and let him into my apartment.

"Do you by chance have your rent? The building owners called me and asked if I could come get it."

"Oh yeah. Let me just grab it." Normally I mailed my rent in on the fifth. It was due on the first, and today was the tenth. "Sorry about that. Work hasn't been going so well."

"No problem. I told them I had it when they called and that I kept forgetting to send it in."

"Thanks. You want a beer?"

"Sure."

Dillion lived in the basement of the apartment with all the tools and the guts of the building. I was pretty sure it was haunted, but then again it could just be the sounds of old Mr. Kenner on the first floor echoing through the pipes. Dillion was about my age, and would fix anything for a six-pack.

"Well I've gotta go. The new tenant on the third floor has a leaky faucet."

"Bye. And thanks again for the rent thing. I owe you."

Closing the door I realized that I was in trouble. It seemed that I owed everyone these days. Dillion had just saved my apartment, my parents feed me several times a week, Ranger had done who knows how many favors for me, and one day I'd have to pay up. That though sent a shiver down my spine that was both scary and sexual. Ranger was the kind of guy you didn't want to meet in a dark alley, or a dark bedroom. He was dangerous, and mysterious, and filled with sexual tension. I'd spent a night with him once, and sometimes I'd have dreams about it, only to wake up in a cold sweat.

Lula arrived just as I was finishing off the last of the chicken. She was still dressed in her suit outfit, and I just realized her hair was black today, and fell in slight curls around her circular face.

"This is all you are allowed to spend."

"What the hell do you expect me to get with this? I couldn't even get you a decent pair of underwear with this."

"Well it's all I have."

"That's not true. I know you got more in there, you just don't want to give it to me because you don't trust I'll buy you the right kind of clothes. Well don't you worry cause I'm going to pick out just what you need."

"Oh god."

"Hunh. What you mean "oh god." You don't trust me? Did you even see what I put on today?"

"Yes, and that is why I'm worried. Look I don't want to look the part okay, I just need two pairs of jeans."

"You just sit tight and I'll be back in an hour with the perfect bottoms for you."

I rolled my eyes and mentally slapped my head. I should have asked Connie for help. Settling back on the couch I found a game to watch, opened one of my candy bars and started on a beer.

It was two hours later when Lula finally came back. She dropped the bag in the hall, handed me my change and took off, mumbling something about a date or washing her hair. My stomach was in knots as I took the bag into the bedroom and dumped it out on the bed. A small scream escaped from my mouth as I held up the contents.

Lula had picked out two pairs of pants. One pair was black and leather, with lacing up the side which I realized was the only way to keep the pants up. The other pair was bright red leathery vinyl, that had silver diamonds, hearts, covers and spades on the butt, and feeling lucky written about it. Also there was a bright pink leather vest, and a shiny black tube top.

"Okay," I said to myself. "Maybe they won't look as bad once you put them on."

I shimmied my way into the black pants, and put the pink vest on. Bracing myself I looked into the mirror I had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling over. The tears were starting to well in my eyes and I bit on my lip, forcing them back.

"This isn't so bad," I lied to myself. "You've worn worse." But it wasn't working because I couldn't think of anything worse.

The door opened and footsteps sounded in the hall. I peaked my head around the doorframe to see Joe standing in the living room, taking a drink from my open beer.

"You aren't answering your cell." He started to come closer and I stuck my hand out.

"It died. Don't come in here."

"Are you naked?" His hard brown eyes melted slightly at the thought.

"No. Worse."

"It can't be that bad."

"I ripped my last pair of jeans today and I had nothing to wear, so I sent Lula to the mall to get me new clothes."

"Okay, it could be that bad."

"Even worse, she is on this new dress for your job kick and she thought I needed to look more like a bounty hunter."

"Ha! I've got to see this." He took a few more steps towards me and I slammed the door closed. He opened it and I hid my face behind my hands. "Wow." He pulled me closer to him, kissing my neck softly.

"This is all I have to wear, and we are expected at my parents for dinner tonight. I don't know what to do."

"Cupcake, I know just what to do."

"You do?" I removed my hands from my eyes now. He was smiling at me, eyes intent on my face.

"I sure do." He leaned in and kissed me, brushing his tongue roughly against mine. "Take it off."

A/N

I wrote this a few months ago and since 16 is finally out I thought it time to post it.

Thanks much to my beta who will never read these notes because she is in fact... my mother.

Yeah. I'm that cool.