Ok. So I read a Christmas short story last night, written by Kylie Adams, called The Good Girl's Guide To A Very Bad Christmas. The conference speech and the list come direction from there, and that is what inspired this story. Ok – not directly – I changed the list to suit Plum-Verse, of course, and I did kind of reword the speech – but it was all her ideas, I will readily admit that.
Otherwise, it just struck me as funny, and I thought it would be fun to throw our much loved characters in, and so here it is.
Will Stephanie become Burg?
Read on to find out. Oh, and I don't own em, and I only own about half the plot (Thanks to Kylie Adams for the rest of the plot, and for the conference speech! I apologize for butchering it when I re-worded).
Becoming Burg
"Stephanie Plum, what do you mean you broke up with Joe Morelli." My mother demanded as she flung the door to the Bonds Office open. I was sitting on the couch reading a file, and looked up to see Lula staring at my mom with her jaw on the floor, and Connie raising an eyebrow. My mother was the last person we ever expected to see walk through that door.
"Mom. He was at the bar. With Terri."
"It was work, Stephanie. You're always with that Ranger man and his associates."
"He had his tongue down her throat!" I didn't mention that as recently as the day before I caught Joe and Terri, Ranger had had his tongue down mine. I also didn't mention that that was just the known excuse for the breakup, that the reason he had his tongue down Terri's throat was because I wasn't putting out, because Joe was in fits about my job...Again. Really, Ranger's tongue and Terri's throat, were the least of our problems.
"Sometimes you have to turn a blind eye to that stuff. It just happens. Can you really say it's never happened with Ranger?" Um... Damn. So much for that not-mentioning thing. I didn't say anything, though, choosing silence as the best strategy. Mom took it as a yes. "See? The problem is your associates. And your job. It's too dangerous, too unpredictable. You can't even guarantee your rent money. Half the time you can't afford food!"
Actually, it was more that I couldn't afford anyone to cook that food, but I didn't bother telling mom that. There really wasn't a point. I just wasn't very domestic, and that was one of her problems.
"You have to grow up Stephanie. You're over thirty years old. You need to grow up, settle down, marry Joe and start your family. You need a steady job, and to quit living hand to mouth and hope you make your next rent and utilities payment. A nice office job, maybe a receptionist. Think about it sweetie, and you could marry Joe and raise two or three kids, and live in his Aunt Rose's nice house... Angie would be so happy to see you and Joe tie the knot." So would mom. Her work as a mother would be done. Both daughters married off, and who cares if there are no fireworks.
"There aren't any fireworks, mom. Joe's comfortable."
Mom looked at me in disbelief. No fireworks with a Morelli? Everyone knows that that isn't possible, even if they haven't experienced. And truth is, the sex was fantastic. But... I wanted Ranger-fireworks, the kind where just driving together felt like a daring adventure. Joe and I, we fit together brilliantly in bed. But in life? There was no way to turn the puzzle pieces so that they came even remotely close to fitting.
"Stephanie." She sighed. "You're just confused about what you want. There's way more to life than fireworks. Ranger might give you fireworks, but Joe is your stability. Joe is the man you need to marry. Giving up the fireworks for real life is part of growing up, and it's far past time that you do."
"Mom-" I started, but she interrupted me right away.
"Look. I signed you up for a conference this weekend. You're going to go to it. Mary Lou is going to go with you."
"What kind of conference?" I asked suspiciously.
"It's a group called Sisters of America. They-"
"Oh no. I know what they do." I stepped backwards and shook my head. "No way, no hell, no how am I going to one of their conferences." The Burg was modeled after this group, perfect little Stepford housewives who stayed home, cooked and cleaned and catered to their husbands' every whim. Their lives were a nine-to-five routine, they lived a daily life pattern that never, ever deviated. They where chained to the ground with heavy steel manacles, unable to ever break away and spread their wings. Now, I loved Mary Lou, but I didn't want to be her. I didn't look down on her, but I really, really didn't want to be her. One of the reasons we are best friends is because we have such different lives now. I'm Mary Lou's adventure, and she's my stability. It keeps Mary-Lou from turning into a full Stepford.
"You will go." My mother said, her voice rising an octave with each word. "I paid three hundred dollars for you to go to this conference, Stephanie Michelle Plum, plus airfair plus hotel and you WILL go to it and you WILL pay attention and take a good hard look at your life and what you need to change. She handed me two sets of two tickets. "One is for you, and one is for Mary Lou. The cocktails are friday night at seven. You guys have a flight in at four pm and reservations at the hotel where it's being held. It's in New York. You WILL go." she added, then left.
I looked down at the tickets. "This sucks." I said to Connie and Lula.
"Girl, I feel pity." Lula shook her head. "You are gunna be burgified."
"I am NOT!" I glared at her. "I'm going to go, because I don't have a choice, but I am NOT going to be burgified." I declared. And then, I left. I needed a drink.
0123
"I really don't want to do this." I told Mary Lou, as walked into the conference room saturday morning. The cocktails the night before had been...alright. We made small talk with a few people, but mostly we sipped wine and caught up on our own visiting. I hadn't seen much of Mary Lou lately, and it was nice to have time to ourselves.
This morning though, we had to actually go to the conference. It was so not my idea of a good time. We found seats, close to the back and the aisle so I could make a hasty exit. At least, that was my opinion.
"You know." Mary Lou said. "I do think that this group is a bit over the top, and all. But we might still get something out of it - some little thing."
"Maybe." I said doubtfully. Then, the first speaker stepped to the stage, and we sat back to listen. Let the torture begin.
Three hours later I was ready to die. We were currently listening to Luisa Marquardt, who had explaining the evils of feminism and why we should never, as good little robots, succumb to feminists' wily ways. "Ladies, the Feminists want you to speak out, they preach equality. But I've been there. I've had the bigshot job, and even brought home more money than my man. I was in control of the relationship, in every way. But I was miserable. And I've learned, since that experience, that a happy woman is a submissive woman. Equality with your man doesn't make you happy, it just leaves you emotionally bereft.
"On the other hand, Sisters, if you life the life God meant for women, if you are submissive to your husband and defer to him in every aspect, if you spent your energy focusing on keeping him well-cared for, well-fed, his house clean, and his sexual needs satisfied in every way, you will find true happiness." Luisa looked around at the crowd. She smiled a "gotcha" smile as she noted how many people were taken in. I refused to be "got." This was all bullshit. I whispered as much to Mary Lou.
"Your mom will kill us if she finds out we skipped. We gotta stay." She whispered back.
"Sisters," Luisa continued, "You are here today because you want to make a promise to yourselves. But even more importantly, you want to make a promise to your husbands, present or future. You are promising to surrender to your husband's leadership in all aspects of marriage. You are promising to ensure that your house is well kept, and that your best talents will be best utilized in avoiding boredom in the bedroom. And that way, you can keep your husbands happy. A true housewife is Betty Crocker in the kitchen, and Jenna Jameson in the bedroom. Something of a Wonder Woman, really. And, sisters," Luisa smiled at us all, and I shuddered. "A happy husband makes a happy wife."
"This stepford-BS is unbelievable." I whispered to Mary Lou. She nodded, but shushed me. A few people around us turned to glare. Yeesh. They didn't actually believe this, did they?
"Now, my last topic before I cede to Rebecca, who will speak to us all about techniques to keep the bedroom from being a bore, and Annabelle, who will lead us in a discussion about new ways to spice up old recipes, is to discuss fantasy. To truly follow the principles, and submit to her husband, a wife cannot indulge in fantasy. A true Sister is not a desperate housewife, spending her afternoons sleeping with the young Sex God next door. She doesn't harbor erotic thoughts about celebrities, acquaintances, or associates. Her husband is her King, and her most important role in life is to make him feel like one, especially in the bedroom. Do this and his eye won't wander, and you'll never have to worry about a pregnant babysitter." Oh God. Val needs to be here. No, she doesn't, I changed my mind. It'll make her feel like crap. Thank God mom didn't send her too.
"So now, as our last task, I challenge you, Sisters, to write down five erotic fantasies involving a man other than your King. Go ahead." she encouraged, as people stared at her in shock.
Mary Lou ducked over her paper beside me, and I shrugged. Why not? At least this would be fun.
1. Another full night of Sex with Ranger.
2. Sex with Ranger wearing a Batman Costume
3. Sex with Ranger after waking up with Ranger - no more of this "gotta go babe." crap - sooooo not part of the fantasy
4. Sex in the shower with Bulgari and Ranger
5. Repeat 1 through 4, multiple times with multiple orgasms
Well, assuming Joe was my King, anyhow. I tried to devise a list assuming Ranger was my King, but I was drawing a blank. Sex with Joe was a reality. I had no fantasies with anyone other than Ranger.
"What's yours?" I asked Mary Lou. She tipped her paper slightly and I leaned over it. "You want Ranger too?" I asked, grinning. Ranger was on her list twice. Of course, her Number One was only "kissing Ranger" but still.
"And that Tank man. and Joe."
"And all three at the same time." I laughed quietly, reading her fifth.
"Now, Sisters." Luisa continued. "Renounce these thoughts, and by the destruction of that paper, symbolically rip them to shreds!"
Papers were tearing across the conference room. Mary Lou ripped hers up. I looked at my list again, and shrugged. I folded it up and put it in my bag. Then I wondered if I could persuade Ranger to wear a batman costume. Yum.
"Steph." Mary Lou elbowed me. "You were supposed to destroy that."
"Nah. It's funny. Lula will want to see it." I told her. Ok, really, I just wanted to keep it. But Lou doesn't need to know that, right?
We moved on to bedroom techniques, and a recipe-swapping workshop, and more of the same for the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday. By the end of the conference, I was exhausted.
"Well, we did learn something." Mary Lou said, as we flew home. "I thought it was a bit over the top, but there were some good points. I really liked the recipe workshop."
"It was loony." I disagreed.
"Steph, it was not. You really do need to think about it. Do you want to live the way you are now for the rest of your life?"
I thought about that. No. I didn't. But I wanted to make my own choices. I didn't want to be a submissive little burg housewife. I said as much. Mary Lou looked hurt.
"Lou, don't be upset. I don't look down on you. You're happy with your life, and it works for you. But I can't live that life. And really, you aren't submissive to Lenny."
"No, but I always try to make him feel like a King..."
"He's the right person for you."
"Yes."
"Joe's not the right person for me."
"Steph. I love you, and I want you to be happy. If you aren't going to be happy with Morelli, then he's not for you. I know you don't look down on me, but you also aren't made for my life. I love you anyways. If you want Ranger, go after him, and the hell with the Burg. I'll support ya, hon." Mary Lou told me. "Besides...if I weren't so in love with Lenny, I'd totally want a piece of that sinfully delicious man." She gave me a wicked grin. "He is HOT."
"Oh, so you aren't getting rid of the fantasy completely?" I teased her.
"Well...no...Fantasies are ok as long as we don't let them govern our reality, as far as I'm concerned."
I didn't tell Mary Lou that I wouldn't be going after Ranger, but it did feel better that she wasn't going to be upset with me for not being "burgified" this weekend. I just...couldn't see myself living that life. I wanted to get married again someday, yes. To the right person. I even thought that maybe children would be nice. But I didn't want to have to give up me to do it.
Mary Lou turned the topic to the Sex books she'd bought both of us. It was a book full of techniques to keep your husband feeling like a King. I was mortally embarrassed to own one, but Mary Lou insisted that since my mom paid for us to go to the conference, she would buy each of us a copy of the book. "Who knows." she told me with a sly grin. "You might learn something cool to try with your man." She didn't say if that man was Joe or Ranger. I was glad for it. Mary Lou always did know me best. I ran around trying to fly, and she followed after me picking up the pieces. I couldn't ask for a better friend.
When I got back to my apartment, after dropping Mary Lou off, I crashed. I didn't even bother unpacking. The weekend, and the ridiculous principles they tried to brainwash me with, had exhausted me. And they had left me with doubts. I wondered if maybe I was defective, if I couldn't be what my mom wanted me to be, what Joe wanted me to be, what everyone wanted me to be, because of maybe missing something inherently necessary to be a woman. Maybe that's why I failed with Dickie, I thought, as I fell into a fitful sleep.
0123
Three days later, I was chasing a skip down a side street. As I ran, I dug through my bag for my stun gun. I had every intention of catching up, stunning him, and cuffing the asshole. Unfortunately, I got distracted by a black Bronco that pulled alongside me, pulled up, and parked a couple of blocks ahead of us. My lack of attention caused me to trip over my feet and go sprawling, my bag flying through the air, finally falling, scattering stuff that was in it.
Ranger and Tank being good kinda guys, got out and apprehended my skip for me. I was just picking myself up onto my knees as Tank loaded the skip into the Bronco, and Ranger jogged over to me.
"Babe, you ok?" He asked, pulling me to my feet. I swayed a bit and he grabbed my arm.
"Am I bleeding?"
"You scraped your forehead a bit." He said, and then leaned forward to kiss it. "Tank will take your skip in for you. I'll need a ride back to the office."
"Could be worse. And Ok." I shrugged, then knelt back down and started to pick stuff up, dumping it back in my purse. I was such a fuck-up, and I really hated that I was, once again, proving everyone right. Not only was I missing something to make me a normal housewife, but I was also unable to get anything right, not even catching a relatively harmless skip. Ranger squatted down and helped me gather everything up.
"Babe?" he questioned, about a half second later. I looked up. Oh. Fuck.
I hadn't taken the Sex book out of my purse. I had kept it in because I knew Lula would want to see it, so I took it to the Bonds Office to show her. She was, as I expected, quite entertained. After a good forty-five minutes of Lula gushing over, and discussing the probabilities and improbabilities of many of the positions illustrated, she finally had handed it back to me.
"Wish I had me one of those." She told me. "My man Tank, he's pretty happy with me, but we could have fun with a book like that."
"Want it?" I offered.
"Nah. You need it too. For Morelli, if you get back with his miserable ass, or for Batman if you don't." Lula gave me a sly look. "Bet Batman would be liking that book!"
And now, here we were, with Batman looking at "that book" speculatively. He looked at me. "Problems with Morelli?" He asked.
"Not anymore." I said. I didn't mean the book.
"What about...?"
"That's why there's no problem anymore." I told him. "No Morelli, no problem. We're friends. I think." I hope.
Ranger nodded, then set the book on his knees while he picked up more scattered items. Gosh, I had way too much in this thing. Ranger eyed my gun for a minute. "Loaded. Proud of you." He said. Well hell. At least one person is. Once everything was back in my bag, and it weighed thirty pounds again, Ranger stood, pulled me to my feet, and moved us over to a grassy spot nearby. We were in front of an apartment building and it had a rather nice lawn. He still had the book.
"You can give that back now." I sighed. He raised an eyebrow at me, and opened the book. I really wish he hadn't kept possession of my car keys. I couldn't run away without my car, and I didn't think I wanted to stand here while Ranger, of all people, looked through this book. It wasn't doing anything good for my resolve not to be his fuck-buddy.
"Interesting." He said, as he slowly leafed through the book, checking each page. He was probably memorizing every detail. I looked around for another escape route.
"What's this?" He asked, holding up a piece of paper. I choked, swaying on my feet. Oh. Fuck. Again. DoubleFuck.
When I was putting my book away after Lula had looked at it, I had found my fantasy list still in my bag. While putting the book in, I tucked the paper discreetly into it so I could lock both up in my nightstand when I got home, and keep them safe from accidentally being found. Unfortunately, forgetting about the book meant the list was forgotten too. And now Ranger was holding my fantasies, involving him, in his sinfully delicious hands.
"Nothing." I finally managed to say, as I reached for it. Ranger held the paper out of reach, and then turned and started to open it. "No! Ranger! Give it back. It's nothing."
"If it's nothing, you won't care if I read it." He said, as he undid the last fold. I leaned against him and reached around him, but he still kept it out of reach. I watched as his eyes widened, and darkened, while he quickly read the note. I was dead. So dead. I stepped away and stood, staring at the ground. I couldn't decide if I was mortified, or excited, or... Either way, I was dead. He turned and looked at me, eyes smoldering. I turned to bolt. He grabbed my wrist and tugged me back towards him, forcing me to look him in the eye.
"If you wanted me in your bed, all you had to do was say so." Ranger said. I couldn't do anything but shake my head, my mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. He glanced down at the paper again. "I'm really not sure about the batman costume, though. Is that the only way I'll be able to get you into bed?"
I really wanted to disappear. Ranger still had my wrist caught in a steel grip, preventing my escape. I just kept opening and closing my mouth, over and over again. I was trying to stop it, but I couldn't. I had no control over my muscles. Hell, I had no control over my life, and it was biting me in the ass in a big way. Suddenly, the burg housewife thing gained a lot of appeal. I could never, ever leave Morelli's house again. Ever.
Ranger didn't bother waiting for me to come to my senses. He tucked the note into the book and the book into my bag. "C'mon Babe. I can free up my day. No point in waiting for night." He said, pulling me towards my car. I panicked. And with that panic, I found my voice.
"No. I don't think I want to." I said, pulling away from Ranger and stepping back. All of the insecurities that the conference brought out slammed into my head, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't risk it.
"Babe, your entire list has to do with having sex with me."
"They're fantasies! And maybe they need to stay that way! Reality is just a disappointment." I was jumping subjects like a jackrabbit. Rabbits. Rabbits have lots of sex. Ranger and I could be going at it like rabbits. Oh god. Somebody, anybody, just shoot me.
Ranger's mouth went tight. "Were you disappointed last time?"
"Not me!" I exclaimed. "You!"
"I wasn't disappointed."
"You will be." I mumbled. "I need to go home. Alone." I said, and I grabbed my bag and turned to walk away. I didn't care that he still had my keys. I'd find another way home.
"Babe." Ranger's arm snaked around my waist. "C'mere." He walked me back towards a tree on the lawn of the apartment complex we'd been standing in front of, and then sat down and patted the ground beside him. "Sit." I sat. As far away from him as I could. I looked to the side and plucked at shoots of grass, trying to pretend he wasn't there. "Tell me what's wrong." He said softly. I didn't answer. I couldn't. "Babe? Can you look at me?" Nope. I shook my head.
I kept picking at the grass until Ranger snaked his arm around me and moved me so that I was sitting in front of him. His legs were spread out on either side of my hips, and he pulled me back to lean against his chest. He tucked my head under his chin. My thoughts were going a mile a minute. I didn't want to lose him. I couldn't handle that.
"Babe." He said into my hair. "Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as you're making it out to be in that head of yours. Talk to me."
"I don't want to lose you." I whispered.
He didn't say anything for a minute. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice puzzled.
"I like you in my life. I don't want to lose you. And if keeping this as it is, fantasies or not, is what I need to do to keep you in my life..."
"Why would you lose me?"
Why wouldn't I lose him? He was Batman, and a bloody sex God for crying out loud. I couldn't keep him happy, complete. I wasn't good enough for that. I wasn't like all those women, who spend their days making sure their husbands are happy in the bedroom. I didn't know how to be. I wouldn't be able to keep someone as dynamic as Ranger even remotely satisfied. I was fooling myself, and setting myself up for the worst heartbreak I'd ever experience, if I thought I could.
"Babe. Your ears are smoking." I shrugged. He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me.
I sighed. Do I tell him? The only other person in the whole world who knew was my mom, and that was because she said it. I hadn't even told Mary Lou.
"I can't fix this if you don't tell me the problem." He finally added.
I sighed again. "You can't fix this period." I told him. I took a breath, and continued, my voice so soft I could barely hear it. I hadn't realized, until the conference, that this still hurt. "When I caught Dickie and...Joyce...on my dining room table...And when I filed for divorce...my mom told me I was being a fool, throwing my life away." I paused. Ranger didn't speak, he just let me get my thoughts together to finish. "She told me... That if I had kept him satisfied in bed... That he wouldn't need to seek it elsewhere... That it was my fault."
Ranger let out a long, slow breath. "It wasn't your fault, babe."
I didn't know what to say. "I know I'm going to regret asking this," Ranger said, after a pause. "But wasn't your sex life with Morelli pretty satisfying?"
I blew out a breath of my own. "Yeah. I guess. The sex was good. But I couldn't change for him, couldn't be his housewife. That's what drove us apart. I still wasn't good enough."
Ranger was silent a moment, and then he lifted me and turned me, so that I was kneeling between his legs. He looked up at my face, and into my eyes. "You're an exotic bird, babe. You can't survive in a gilded cage." I didn't know what to say to that. My thoughts just wouldn't cooperate. I sat sideways across his lap, and rested my head on his shoulder. He rested his head on mine, and we just sat there. Probably I should let him get back to work, but he felt nice. At least I could enjoy this quiet moment, right?
"Babe. What brought this on?" He finally asked, his voice a whisper in my ear.
"What brought what on?"
"All of it."
"A conference. My mom forced me to go to this conference. She paid for me and Mary Lou to go - it probably cost her a grand." I told him, and then I told him about the Sisters of America, and the lectures, and how they lead to the list and the book. I recounted it all in great detail, including as much as I could remember about some of the lectures.
"Babe. Only you." He said, and threw back his head and laughed. My disdain for the entire weekend had come back in full force during my retelling, and I couldn't help but laugh with him.
"Babe. Question." He said, a little while later.
"Hmm?"
"Did it bother you that much when I left that morning?"
"It hurt, a little. It hurt more when you told me to go back to Morelli." I finally answered.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly, hugging me tightly. "I'm not very experienced with relationships. I didn't mean to hurt you. Didn't really think about it."
I reached an arm around his back and hugged him back. "It's alright." I told him. "I'll find a way for you to make it up to me."
"You know what I think?" he asked me, as he lifted us to our feet, and then led me by the hand towards my car.
"Do I want to know?" I asked warily.
"I think we should go to your apartment. Or Mine. And I'll start making it up to you by fulfilling your fantasies. But we're skipping the batman costume." He said. "Permanently."
Ok. Fine by me. I could live without the batman costume...as long as..."How about you make it up to me by taking me to the batcave?" I asked.
"Someday." He said. "We need a couple of days off for that." He let me go so I could get into the car. Driving off, he took the next right and headed in the direction of Haywood Street.
"This is going to change things, isn't it?" I asked. I had come back down from my "I get to see the batcave!" mental happy dance, and now I was starting to worry again.
"Yes." He told me.
"How?"
Ranger stopped for a red light, and turned to look at me, his eyes dark and serious and filled with promise. "After this." He paused. "You're mine."