A/N: SPOILERS FOR #16

Ranger & The Other Woman #16 quote, and Hal #16 quotes challenge from RM

1st response – Fits into my/Sweetdreams-sunnymornings Ranger/Anthony/Bailey weird ass universe.

Who's that Girl?

Hal POV

I hovered around the main entrance of the abandoned office building that was situated on some run down side street in Newark and watched the scene in front of me with interest. Ms Dawson, Ranger's current girlfriend stood off to one side with the boss and that scary blond guy, Anthony Stewart. She was covered in blood, her silk blouse was ripped at the shoulder, her pants had holes in the knees and her shoes had vanished. I had expected her to be terrified after her ordeal, but she was actually grinning from ear to ear and replaying the events of the three previous hours with obvious glee.

Okay, so let's back up a second here, and I'll start at the beginning. A few months back, Ranger vanished for a while, and his then girlfriend, Stephanie Plum moved out of his apartment. When he returned, he seemed to have become romantically entangled with an interior designer called Amanda Dawson, and to tell you the truth, I had always been slightly suspicious of her.

Why? Because Ranger's woman is always going to be under the threat of some sort of payback from the scum that he deals with on a day to day basis, and no one in the office, no matter how big a threat Ranger seemed to be facing, was ever asked to watch over his woman. Back in the old days we seemed to spend most of our time tailing Stephanie, but Amanda… Yeah, something just didn't add up. It was obvious that Ranger cared for her a great deal, but he appeared at first glance to be ambivalent when it came to her personal safety.

This lunch time, Ms Dawson had been snatched off the sidewalk outside a fancy dress shop in down town Manhattan by four men. The men were linked to a group of arms dealers that Ranger had busted last month on some alphabet agency gig. Amanda had pushed a panic button on her key chain and the staff of Rangeman Trenton had ridden to the rescue. Or so we had thought.

By the time we reached the office building that one of her trackers was located in, we found her sitting at the curb in a state of disarray and smoking a cigarette. She got to her feet when Ranger angled out of his Porsche, and melted into his strong embrace. There was no tears, no obvious emotional breakdown, and from what I could tell, the blood that marred her clothing wasn't even hers. Who was this woman?

The frightening blond guy, Anthony had turned up minutes after we had arrived, looked Amanda up and down, grinned, and then bumped fists with her, before pulling her into a hug. Both Ranger and Anthony seemed to be relieved that she was okay, but what I didn't understand was how the hell she had managed to get away.

I finally found the courage to approach the trio, and caught the tail end of Amanda's explanation.

"… so yeah, they're all still up on the third floor."

I cut my eyes to the third floor. "How bad are they? Do you want us to, you know, get rid of anything?"

"Like a body?" she said with a smirk.

"Yeah," I replied.

Amanda shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it. I suspect that," she took a hold of Ranger's wrist and glanced at his watch, "Everything will be sorted out very soon."

Ranger raised an eyebrow, which I guess was his way of asking her to explain.

"They left me a load of plastic explosives to play with," she said with a grin. "You know what, let's move away from the building, shall we."

The four of us moved across the street and swiftly took shelter behind one of the trucks as a very large explosion blew out most of the windows in the office building. One of the F-450's alarms started blaring and Cal had to hastily shut it off. Thankfully the lots either side of the building were nothing but ruble strewn wastelands, otherwise they would have lost their windows also.

"Little bit heavy handed on the explosives there, baby," Anthony commented.

Amanda blushed. "I'm a little rusty; I've not blown shit up for a long time. But damn, what a rush!"

Lester jogged over. "Hey kiddo, you okay?"

"I'm cool, Les."

"Do you need me to get Bobby to check you over?"

"Not unless he can fix my manicure," she joked as she held up both hands and wiggled her fingers, showcasing her trashed finger nails.

Sirens blared from a couple of blocks away, and Amanda flinched.

"Time to go, babe," Ranger said as he put his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. Can you get someone to fix the mess for me?" she asked as she glanced warily down the street.

"Tank'll sort it for you," he said. "We'll get you out of here and you can give your statement tomorrow."

Anthony snorted. "Yeah, once you've fixed it to match Tank's version of events."

Ranger smiled. "But of course."

A blue and white slid to a halt behind one of our SUV's and a couple of officers got out and approached us. Amanda had turned to face Ranger, her face buried against his chest. She was sobbing loudly, her body shaking with what looked like a combination of shock and emotional overload. For a second I thought that what she was doing was real, until I caught Anthony roll his eyes and snigger. This was getting stranger by the second.

Ranger bellowed for Tank, who stepped in front of the policemen, effectively cutting them off from us, and Bobby came up and boxed them in from the rear. Anthony moved towards the Porsche and opened the passenger door.

Ranger scooped Amanda up in his arms. "Tell Tank I'm offline," he said to me over his shoulder as he strode away. He buckled Amanda into the passenger seat, jogged around to the driver's side and climbed in. The high performance engine roared to life, and with a squeal of the tires the Turbo pulled away from the curb.

Anthony wandered back over to me and Lester, looked up at the burning building and grinned. "She doesn't do anything by half, that girl."

"She's not really an interior designer, is she?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Stick with interior designer, man; it's safer that way and I won't have to kill you," Anthony said jovially, before he caught Tank's eye, nodded and then set off towards his own Porsche.

Lester wandered over to Tank and the cops, and I was left standing alone on the littered sidewalk with nothing but my own thoughts that were whizzing through my head at a mile a minute. A fire truck pulled up and began to extinguish the blaze. Amanda Dawson, who was she? And did I really want to find out? No, I guess not.

The End