This is my second Stephanie Plum fanfic, and I'm still new to this. I would love for you to read and review, and contact me for any questions or suggestions.

This is probably going to be for the cupcakes, since I think babes are getting more than their fill here, but I'm not sure yet. I'll try my best!

The title is just a Bon Jovi song and is no indication of where the story is heading. I think.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: All characters are JE's, I'm only borrowing them for fun

You Give Love a Bad Name

Chapter 1

"You what?"

I scowled at my live-in boyfriend, Joseph Morelli. Well, technically, I am his live-in girlfriend, since we live in the two-story row house his aunt left him when she died. A few months ago, I decided that paying rent and spending most of my time at his place didn't make much sense. So I packed my hamster, Rex, and my belongings and we moved in with Joe.

Joe looked at me with his chocolate brown eyes that I could swear would make Ellen DeGeneres melt and asked innocently "What, Cupcake, it's just dinner!"

'But it's Raaaangeeer!' I wanted to whine but pulled myself together "It's not just dinner! You invited Ranger to dinner?"

Ranger was a bad-ass bounty hunter and had helped me, Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter in training, out more times than I could count. I would definitely call him a friend, but that's not all I would call him. Last year, during a messy situation that ended in a shoot-out in my old apartment, I had to realize that I loved two men: Joe and Ranger. Joe, the handsome cop, whom I've known all my life. Like me, he was from the Burg, a part of Trenton where houses and minds where narrow.

Ranger, I had met when I had just become a bounty hunter, and at first, we were just mentor and mentee. We worked on cases together. That is to say, if I needed help, I called Ranger.

Joe was about 6'3", with milk chocolate-brown eyes and shortish brown hair. His hair always looked like it needed a cut, but it looked hot on him. He has long legs and toned muscles, and like I said, a look from him will turn you into a puddle.

And right now, his eyes were focused on me and his brows began to rise in an unasked question.

I bit my lip. It wasn't just that it was Ranger that Joe invited. It was also that he invited him for dinner, and between the two of us, we would keep a whole number of take-out and delivery places in business for years. My culinary specialty were peanut butter sandwiches, I varied the added ingredients. Joe's talent was knowing the phone numbers of our favorite places by heart.

"Yes, Ranger is coming for dinner." Joe said on a shrug. "He's helping me on a case and I thought it'd be nice to talk about it over food and drinks."

Of course he was right, and I didn't dispute the fact. What I was trying to do is come up with an excuse to leave the house and stay away while Ranger was here.

Bob sauntered into the kitchen and looked from Joe to me expectantly. Bob was our dog, well, he was mine before he became Joe's (one of those guy things, I guess), he was a golden retriever among other things, and he had heard the word 'food'. That always got his attention.

I distracted myself by petting Bob. There was no excuse that would get me out of this without raising suspicions. Unless someone called within the next hour and needed me desperately, I was screwed. Yes, it was only dinner, but the thought of having Ranger and Joe in the same room made me sweat. Joe and Ranger had worked together in the past, and they respected each other to some extend. But Joe was aware of the…chemistry….between Ranger and I, and I was sure he was curious about it at times. They had each threatened the other with bodily harm at one point or another, mostly Joe warning Ranger not to move in on 'his' territory, but never to their faces. My plan was to keep it that way.

Just then, the door bell rang, and I almost jumped.

"That would be our dinner." Joe explained as he walked to the door.

Oh, so he had planned ahead and had called for delivery. I wasn't going to embarrass myself with my lack of cooking skills. I took a deep breath and willed myself to calm down.

Joe returned to the kitchen with a pizza box and a brown paper bag.

"What time is Ranger coming?" I asked.

Joe checked his watch "If he's on time, in about ten minutes." We both knew Ranger was always on time. He was ex-military and being late was not something he could do. By 'ex' I mean he is not in the military anymore, but you wouldn't know that by looking at him or watching his demeanor.

Joe put the food in the stove and set it to warm.

"I'll go get ready." I said on my way out of the kitchen. My jeans and t-shirt were going to stay, but I had to boost my self-confidence with an extra layer or two of mascara, that was for sure. I went upstairs, were the three bedrooms and full bathroom are, took another calming breath and gave myself a little pep talk.

I heard the doorbell while I was still upstairs and my stomach contracted.

I needed more mascara and eyeliner!

Five minutes later, I forced my legs downstairs again, a polite smile plastered on my lips.

Ranger was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his back to me. I couldn't see Joe, so I assumed he was in the kitchen, getting dinner served.

Ranger filled up just about the entire doorframe: He was 5'11" and all muscle. His black hair was shoulder length and tied in a ponytail. In his black cargo pants and skin-tight black t-shirt, he looked like he was late for a photo shoot for the cover of a magazine. It didn't help that I knew what his muscles felt like. Years ago, we had spent a passionate night together, and whenever I saw him, it was all I could think about. But he had told me on more than one occasion that he did not want to be in a committed relationship, with anyone, and had sent me back to Joe.

I debated clearing my throat to make my presence known, but it turned out there was no need. As soon as I reached the foot of the stairs, Ranger turned around and our eyes met. The ghost of a smile played around his lips as his almost black eyes regarded me calmly. He knew exactly how nervous I was, I thought, and he was enjoying it.

"Cupcake, you want a beer?" Joe was yelling from the kitchen. God love him, the perfect distraction! "Sure!"

Ranger already had a beer and I motioned for him to sit at the dining table as Joe brought out plates and silverware and handed me an opened beer. I hurried into the kitchen to bring out the pizza.

After a few slices of pizza, I excused myself from the table when the conversation shifted to work. Joe raised his eyebrows, usually my curiosity wasn't satisfied until I knew all about his cases, and they frequently overlapped with mine. As a bounty hunter, I was chasing criminals that for one reason or another, did not want to appear in court. Sometimes Joe and I were working on the same cases.

But tonight, I couldn't help looking from Joe to Ranger and back again, and I was squirming in my seat, so I said I had some phone calls to make and rushed upstairs, into the extra bedroom- turned office.

I berated myself for being such a coward, it was not like I was going to faint in the presence of both Joe and Ranger. But I felt the tension could be cut with a knife when all three of us were in the same room. It was impossible to know what Ranger thought, because he had a patented blank face, but I had caught Joe cutting his eyes to me several times, a questioning look in them.

So I decided to catch up on work, I did need to make some phone calls. I had planned to work on my cases the next morning, but what the hell.

I work for my cousin Vinnie, who owns a Bail Bonds office. Whenever he bails someone out and they don't show up for their court date, Vinnie asks me to find them. Well, if he thinks I can handle them, that is. I have worked as a fugitive apprehension agent, the fancy name for bounty hunter, for several years now, with varying degrees of success. I'm sure Ranger's success rate is 100 per cent, but we aren't exactly batting in the same league. For one, he has a whole team of badass guys behind them, working for his company, RangeMan. I work alone or with my friend Lula, a hooker-turned-bounty hunter.

Whenever I did catch a skip though, my reward was ten per cent of the bond, which could amount to quite a lot of money.

Right now I didn't have any cases that would pay out much though, a couple first time offenders with low-ish bonds, a drunken wife-beater that would be more hassle than payoff, and a 'ho from Stark Street, the notorious 'bad' part of Trenton.

Joe was a homicide cop, and I figured he had enlisted Ranger's help because Ranger moved in the right circles. Not that I knew what those circles were because after years, I still knew very little about Ranger, but he had connections that could make a cop drool. I was very curious what kind of information Joe needed from Ranger, especially since Joe had never gone the extra mile to talk over dinner at his house, but I had to wait until Ranger left.

I passed the time with calling my skips' home and work numbers I'd gotten off their files to get a place to start looking for them. First-time offenders can often be picked up in their houses, they didn't usually think anyone would come after them if they 'forgot' their court date.

I'd been on a few takedowns with Ranger and his men, and his didn't look anything like mine. He had a plan, he was armed, he had backup and he conducted himself with professionalism. Me, I had the skip's address as a starting point, my gun either at home in the cookie jar or unloaded in my purse, and often found myself rolling in garbage trying to hunt down or apprehend a fleeing offender. The glorious life of a bounty hunter? Puuhlease!

I still didn't want any other job though, because I could set my own hours and didn't have to wear pantyhose to work and sit in a stuffy office.

I called my first victim, Carol Sercek. She had been caught shoplifting an MP3 player she couldn't afford to buy her son for his birthday. This would not get her jail time, as far as I knew, and she didn't have any history of crime. I figured she either honestly forgot her court date or couldn't make it because she had no time off. She picked up her home phone and I gave her some spiel about lower mortgage rates, so she hung up. It was my preferred method of 'establishing contact' because I didn't have to reveal my identity or intention, and people usually didn't pay attention to phone solicitors' voices. Since I was well known in Trenton, there was always a chance people recognized my voice if I feigned a wrong number.

I made a note on Carol's file and put it on a separate pile. My to-do pile for the next day.

Christoph Child wasn't home, but his answering machine told me his cell phone number. It was too late to assume he was still working, so I made a note to check his house out first, too.

He had been charged with leaving the site of an accident, not quite hit and run, but close to it. A woman had been hurt in said accident, and witnesses had Child's license plate to share with the police.

I didn't want to call the wife-beater, and since his occupation was listed as 'unemployed', it looked like I had to pay a number of home visits. Except for Lynn-Anne Baker, who lived and worked on Stark Street. I figured I could enlist Lula's help with her, so I put her on top of my pile.

I could still hear Joe's voice from downstairs when I was done, and I didn't want to seem rude, so I grabbed my files and went back down. I put the folders in my big black leather bag, got another beer out of the fridge, and joined Joe and Ranger in the living room.

Joe put an arm around my shoulders when I said down next to him and continued talking.

Since I had missed most of the conversation and didn't want to ask stupid questions, I kept quiet when I didn't know what he was talking about.

"…and we haven't gotten more than the Taylor lead so far, which seems like a dead end." He finished.

"That's where I come in." Ranger said. Joe nodded.

Ranger finished his beer and got up.

"Don't change your game plan. I will see what's the what tomorrow and call you."

He nodded almost imperceptivity at me and Joe. Joe got up as well and showed Ranger to the door. I let out a whoosh of air while nobody could hear me and turned on the TV.

Joe returned to the living room and sat down next to me.

"That went well." He said as he put his arm back around me and pulled me closer.

"Ranger will help you?"

"He will help just by being there. He may know to ask people we haven't thought of yet."

"Are you paying him or is this a favor?" I just had to ask.

Joe smiled "Cupcake, Ranger doesn't do favors. Nothing he does is free."

I happened to know otherwise, but it wasn't something I wanted Joe to know. We had been on a break during my one night with Ranger, and had strictly adhered to the don't-ask-don't-tell policy afterwards. Ranger never charged me for favors, if he would, I'd be indebted to him for the rest of my life.

Joe was determined to move on to the fun part of the evening, he nuzzled my ear and stroked my arm. I was still too wired to reciprocate, but I didn't want Joe to know.

"Oh look, the Yankees are losing." I tried to get Joe's attention away from me. "Mm-hmm." He said into my neck. That felt nice…okay, maybe I was ready to be distracted after all.

I woke up the next morning when Bob was giving me cold kisses from Morelli's side of the bed. I heard the shower running and turned around to see the alarm clock. It was close to eight. I groaned. If I fell back asleep, I'd sleep until noon, I knew this from experience, so I threw back the comforter, got up, and put on sweats and a t-shirt I found on the floor.

While Joe was still in the shower, I crept downstairs, got coffee started, and opened the back door for Bob. He rushed out to take care of business.

Joe and I had coffee together, then he set off to work after a hug and a long kiss that made me want to drag him back into bed.

I sighed as I watched him leave. "Just you and me, Bob." I said, but Bob didn't seem to mind. He'd had his tinkle, had inhaled his breakfast, and was now settling in for his morning nap. Rex was also asleep in his soup can, so I just dropped a few raisins and cheerios into his food bowl and went upstairs.

I showered, did the hair and make-up thing, and got dressed in a long-sleeved blue t-shirt and jeans. My work uniform. I picked up my purse and made sure I had handcuffs, pepper spray and my stun gun in addition to the files of the skips, then yelled a goodbye to Bob and Rex and locked the door behind me.

It was warm out for October; I was glad I hadn't bothered with a jacket, as I unlocked my Mini and got in.

Vinnie's office was not too far from Morelli's house, and I was lucky enough to find street parking almost right in front of it.

Connie was behind her desk when I entered. Connie has been with Vinnie since before anyone can remember. She's a couple years older than I am and a couple pounds heavier, and she's been a good friend since I started working for Vinnie.

She looked up and smiled at me, her eyes heavily mascaraed and her black hair teased up almost to the ceiling.

"You look like you've had a good night!" she said by way of greeting, and I figured she was referring to the goofy grin on my face that I always wore after a good night with Joe.

"Is Lula in yet?" I asked rather than answering her.

"Not yet." Connie replied. "It's only nine. She should be in shortly."

I nodded and put my purse on the couch that filled the entire left side of the office.

"I'll go get us breakfast." I announced as I fished my wallet out of the purse and set of for the bakery. We all liked donuts in the morning, they got our creative juices flowing.

A half hour and three donuts later, I had filled Lula in on Lynn-Ann Baker and had volunteered her as a helper. Lula would do anything to get out of filing, so it didn't take much to persuade her. She was wearing her usual uniform of spandex today. Lula was a plus-sized black woman who wore regular-sized clothing exclusively. Her hair, lips and fingernails were orange today, and her spandex top and mini-skirt were black. She looked ready to trick-or-treat, but I thought she looked good. Only Lula could pull off an outfit like that and look good.

"Do you know Lynn-Ann?" I asked Lula between bites.

Lula thought for a beat "Don't think so, let me see her picture. She could be using a street name."

Like Ranger. His real name was Ricardo Carlos Manoso, second generation Cuban, but I had never called him anything but Ranger.

Lula shook her head while she studies Lynn-Ann's file. "Nope, doesn't ring a bell. Of course I've been out of the loop for a while…" As a 'ho, Lula's 'office' had been on Stark Street.

I balled up the trash and grabbed my purse.

"Well, time to get acquainted!" I said cheerily and Lula took her cue.

We'd taken my car to Stark Street and I already regretted the decision. Not only had Lula bitched about having to fit herself into the car, I was afraid to let it out of my sight in this bad neighborhood.

If you didn't know Trenton, you'd know Stark Street from the graffiti on the walls and the trash on the streets. Several houses were boarded up, and the ones that weren't looked like they wouldn't be far behind.

"This is her home address." I said as I pulled up to the curb. "Do you think she's home at this hour?"

Lula shrugged "Unless she does sleepovers, she should be. Ain't nobody coming to Stark Street that is willing to pay for sleepovers usually, so…"

I locked the car and set the alarm, although I feared it would be futile gesture here. My cars had a history of disappearing and getting destroyed at an alarming rate, but I really liked the Mini.

I looked up at the three-story row house that Lynn-Ann had listed as her home address. It must have once been a one-family house that had been converted into several apartments. This early in the morning, no one was sitting on the stoop.

"Let's go find out." I said as much to Lula as to myself.

Lynn-Ann lived on the second floor and didn't answer the door when I knocked.

"Guess she not home." Lula commented after I had tried several more times. "We gonna break in?"

I didn't really see the reason for breaking into Lynn-Ann's place, but since we were there already, it seemed like an idea.

I was about to lift my foot to try to break the door down when I remembered to try the doorknob. You never know…

Sure enough, Lynn-Ann's front door was unlocked.

"Uh-oh." Lula said and looked at me. We were both thinking the same thing. No one on Stark Street leaves their door unlocked. While they are still alive, that is.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open all the way. We stood in the hallway looking into the dark apartment for a minute, just in case someone was home and was about to storm out at us. No one did.

I gestured for Lula to enter, but she shook her head. "I wouldn't want to hog your takedown."

So I took a deep breath and made my way into the small apartment. It was a studio, with a kitchenette in an alcove, a door that I assumed led to the bathroom and a curtained-off area that I suspected housed the bedroom.

The living-dining room area was empty.

I motioned for Lula to follow me and walked over to the curtain with a funny feeling in my stomach.

I gingerly drew the curtain apart and looked at Lynn-Ann Baker, butt naked, on her bed. Dead as a doorknob, if her wide, unseeing eyes were any indication.

Lula came up behind me and shrieked. I took a few steps back and collapsed onto the couch, put my head between my knees and waited for the stars to fade and clanging in my head to stop.

"Shiiiit!" Lula said and plopped herself down next to me.

That was a fair assessment.

I had seen dead people before, both embalmed and murdered, but I'd never get used to it. From my nano-second of looking at Lynn-Ann, I hadn't been able to see any bullet holes, but I wasn't going to go back and find out what she died of.

That was Joe's job. Calling him would have the added advantage of getting a hug and a kiss to make it all better, so I dug up my cell phone and called his number.

Tbc

What do you think?