I don't own JE's characters and I'm not making any money from this story.

For Perfectly Plum Group Week 21 - Dee's Tiara Challenge

Use one or both of the following prompts: (1) What you really need to go with that is a tiara.

I twirled a curl over my finger and sucked the bubble I'd blown with my gum back in my mouth. I was beyond bored and a little on edge. Surveillance with Ed, the newest addition to the Rangeman team, was not my idea of a good time. It was the first time I'd had to spend hours on end with one of the guys I didn't know well.

Probably I wouldn't have had to be there if one of the guys hadn't come in with a nasty flu and taken down half the staff in a couple days time. Ranger was not pleased, to say the least, that Typhoid Merry Man hadn't taken a sick day instead of spreading the love. Especially when Ranger got called into the wind shortly afterwards and had to leave Tank manning the home front.

So as it happened, I was one of the few left standing and operational and here I was…stuck with Mr. Cheerful.

Admittedly, I don't know Ed very well, he'd only been employed for a few months, but I do place some faith in my first impressions and my spidey sense gave me a thumbs down on him. Not the kind of thumbs down that meant he was about to blow up a school bus or torture a kitten, just the 'eh, I'm not gonna be sharing friendly lunches with this guy' kind of thumbs down.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, but couldn't see anything but his profile in the dark. He was a typical Rangeman specimen, bulky, built and taller than average. Not my type, though. Certainly, he wasn't ugly; he was actually quite generically good looking with his dark hair clipped short, straight nose and square jaw. No Lester, that's for sure, but decent. Probably next to Ranger he'd look unattractive, but then most people do.

But when I could see his eyes, which currently, inside the darkened SUV, wasn't possible, my brain filed him firmly in my 'unfriendly' category. His eyes were dark brown, like Ranger's, but they lacked any warmth. I couldn't speak for when he looked at anyone else, but when he looked at me, they seemed veiled with hostility that he wasn't too good at concealing.

I had some time on my hands, so I started wondering why he didn't like me. I mean, I do have my faults. I'm not too good at this bounty hunting thing yet and sometimes I end up covered in nasty stuff. Occasionally, I'll admit, there have been a few gunshot wounds and incapacitated partners at the end of my day. But hey, sometimes it's me who gets shot or blown up, so the odds aren't really that bad, are they?

Usually though, the one thing I can count on is that people generally like me. It helps me out a lot in my job. People like to talk to me for some reason. I guess I don't look scary. Whatever it is, Ed didn't get the memo, because I can tell that I'm not his favorite person.

Ugh. We'd been sitting here forever. I sighed. "I hope this guy shows up soon."

"I don't," he muttered under his breath.

Huh? What the hell? "Huh?"

"I don't hope he shows up," he said clearly and concisely.

I was completely confused now. "Why not? If he doesn't, that just means we'll have to sit here again watching the 'OTE N VANCY' sign flicker all night again."

"Never mind. Drop it."

I sat straight up in my seat and stared at the dark outline of his head. "No, really, I want to know. We've been trying to get this guy for a week now. Why wouldn't you want to get it over with?"

"I said, drop it."

"But--"

"Look, princess," he snapped. "All I want is to finish this shift in peace…and quiet. So how about I'll provide the peace and you provide the quiet?"

Ok, now I was mad. I flicked the interior light on so I could glare at him. Stay calm, Stephanie. You have to be diplomatic. You have to work with this guy. "What the hell is your problem?"

Oops. So much for diplomatic.

"My problem?" He turned and sneered at me. "My problem, princess, is the same one most of the guys at Rangeman have."

"What the hell are you talking about and what's with this princess crap?"

"Please. You know, what you really need to go with that royal attitude of yours is a tiara. Something flashy and expensive. Something as obvious as you are, so at first glance everyone will know to give you the special treatment you've--" he deliberately looked me up and down, "earned."

Oh, he did not just say that. I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks and gripped the door handle so hard I was afraid it was going to crack.

He leaned closer to me, "You want to know why I don't want our guy to show? Because he's armed and dangerous and I'm stuck with the most useless backup Rangeman has to offer." His tone was still low, but the malice contained in it seeped into me and chilled me to the bone. "You think anyone wants to partner up with some flaky, fuck-up chick who's just as likely to shoot her partner as her target?"

He ran a finger along my arm and I jerked away from him. "We do all wonder what on earth you could do that would be worth the price of all those cars and the huge likelihood of wrecking the company's reputation."

He laughed and sat back in his seat, still rambling on conversationally, "How many rules don't apply to you, huh? Gotta love that special treatment. Hey, you ever wonder why people shut up when you come into a room? It's a hot topic of conversation. Current bets are on a very talented tongue. Me? I think you got something on the boss, 'cause no piece of ass is worth all he pays out in cash and the damage to his rep. Care to end the speculation and share?"

"No?" he tapped his thick, blunt fingers on the steering wheel and said, "So whatcha gonna do now, princess? Run to the boss and tell on me? Oh, you can't. He's out of town. Gonna complain to Tank about how I told you the plain truth nobody else will? That every day that you're employed by Rangeman you endanger whoever gets saddled with you? If you actually do like any of the guys you work with, you'd do them all a favor and quit before you get someone killed."

Ok. What I wanted to do was call Tank, have him send someone over to relieve me and quit Rangeman right that instant despite the fact that it would give this jerk exactly what he wanted. No, strike that, I wanted to cry. Then do all that stuff. Or do all that stuff, then cry. No wait, I wanted to show Ed what a talented knee I had and go from there.

What I did do, making a herculean effort to blink back the hot tears in my eyes and successfully reining in my instincts to flee immediately, was say calmly, "I'm sorry you feel that way." Then I flicked the light off and we sat in uncomfortable silence for the remaining hour of the shift. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how accurately he'd stabbed me in the heart. The guy was an asshole, but maybe…maybe he had a point. Tank was swamped running things in Ranger's absence with a skeleton crew, the last thing he needed was drama from me to distract him.

It was agonizing, but I made it. The skip gave Ed a break and never made an appearance. We drove back to the office in silence and split up in the control room without another word.

I managed to smile and wave at the guys manning the control room before I made my hasty exit. I desperately needed to get home and have that cry. Then I had to figure out what I was going to do.