a/n Something for Back to School...sigh.
This is a short but multi chapter romance written for a dear friend who wanted to be IN a JE fanfic. Happy Birthday, babe!
*set in my Mercenary Ranger's world. Babe but not a R/S pairing. Standard fanfic disclaimers apply. Characters you recognize from JE are her property and I am just borrowing. Anthony and Nikki (Ms Nichols) belong to me. Anthony is Ranger's half-brother, you can read a little bit about him in The Price is Right. enjoy!
.
.
.
The Math Teacher-Chapter one
[Anthony]
I returned from the job in Paraguay via MacDill Air Force Base, home of Army Special Operations under General Jason Kent. It's in southern Florida, a useful stop on the way back from points south and, well, wherever. Needless to say the op was a success—I'll even go so far as to call it an excellent outcome. I refuse to feel all anguished about deleting these scumbags. You don't feel all sorry when you flush the toilet, do you?
So since I was here in Florida anyway I called Ranger's ex-wife Rachel and asked if I could stop by in Miami and see Julie and the other kids. She was more cordial than usual and six hours later when I got to her big, lavish, paid-for-by-Ranger white Spanish mini-mansion, I quickly figured out why.
Rachel was dressed up in high heels and a pretty, clingy, sexy red dress. She hugged me gingerly—I hadn't showered—and said, "Here's the thing, Antonio. Ron got free passes for an evening dinner-dance cruise. And well, okay, it's a Monday, but it's almost our anniversary, so we'd really love to go?" she finished hopefully.
"Tonight?"
"Yes. Please?"
"You want me to babysit?" Are you out of your freakin' mind?
"No! No, the au pair is picking up Sarita and Mikey after school. They'll be here soon and then she'll be here to babysit."
"Uh huh."
"But Julie has Math Club. Did you know she is taking high school math?" I nodded. "So I was hoping you'd pick her up at school at 4.30."
"Oh. Sure, no problem. But I'm not exactly dressed to do the dad gig."
Rachel patted my arm. "You'll look fine, m'hijo. Maybe just a quick shower though?'' She wafted her hand lightly in front of her nose. What, she thinks I stay at the Third World Four Seasons down there? Six days in the jungle and she'd stink too.
I showered, I shaved, I dressed in clean clothes from my emergency duffle that I keep in the car. I had milk and cookies with Sarita and Mikey. And then we got out the Crayolas and colored while Rachel worked the phones to get me the okay for Julie's pick up. Calls to the school, to Julie's cell, to Rangeman Miami, to Ranger himself for him to call Rangeman Miami.
Usually Rachel would be bitching about Ranger's security measures but today she was motivated. And so at 4:20, armed with a handwritten note, I parked my Ferrari in a bus zone and headed into Julie's school. Three steps away from my car and two clean-cut, casually dressed Hispanic guys with a lot of muscles blocked my path. Julie's Rangeman bodyguards in plainclothes, I was thinking.
''ID, sir?''
I squelched my urge to pull my gun— it was locked in the car, anyway—and instead I displayed the note, my NY State photo ID driver's license, and my generic, all-encompassing federal creds.
The two Rangeman guys had to know who I was. Not only do I look like their employer Ranger, I was driving my Miami Ferrari with Florida state vanity license plates, same as my car in New York, except this one has a cream interior instead of black. No sense broiling just to be cool, so to speak.
''Are you armed, sir?''
I could snap both their necks before either knew what hit them, despite the fact that they were well-trained and stood a cautious four feet away from me. But still, you know... like, I could. However in the interest of keeping things friendly I said, ''No.''
One of the men politely set the IDs on the hood of my car and they both said, ''Have a nice day, sir.''
I grabbed my creds and started up the front steps of the school but then I turned back to say, ''Have a nice day? Does Ranger know you guys say that?'' But they were gone. Or at least invisible again.
The school was pretty quiet, no kids or teachers. No federal agents coming to arrest my formerly teenage ass. Just an aging rent-a-cop sweating at a beat-up card table, armed with a sign-in sheet. I did the ID thing again, wrote a name (not mine of course) in his spiral notebook, and followed his directions to the math lab where the Math Club was meeting.
. . .
[Julie]
I am not a geek—or a dork, or a dweeb, or, or—whatever! So what if I'm a girl and I like computers and math? I like English and French class too, and Twilight books and clothes and shoes and music and everything a regular almost 13 years old girl likes too. My name is Julie Martine-Manoso and when I was 10 years old I killed a man in self-defense. My notoriety from shooting Chuck AKA that a-hole Scrog has saved me from total dorkdom so everyone knows me and I have a lot of cool friends. This is my first year taking advanced math with the high school kids and my advisor Ms Nichols suggested I join the math club so I'd get to know everyone. Fit In, she means.
Actually Ms Nichols is proof positive that a female person can be smart and like math and stuff and still be hot. She is—I don't know—young? youngish? And really pretty— curly brown hair, green eyes. Porcelain white skin with a few freckles. Like: girl-next-door grows up and gets hot? You know. She told us once that she loves Zumba workouts and even though she disguises it a bit with loose, boring teacher clothes, she has a great body. I see how the older boys eye her when she wears a tight t-shirt sometimes.
Math Club is fun and the older kids are nice to me. Mostly though they are into computers and cyber-shit. Many are gamers, even role playing gamers. Right now the convo is about a live game they are doing/ following. I listen and I think, No way is daddy gonna allow that! At least not in the live action, puzzle solving, treasure hunting parts. But I make a mental note to at least bring up the idea, so he can, like, adjust. Ranger—my daddy—functions best when handled correctly.
Can you just see how cool I will be, dressed all in black at some RPG—role playing game—event thing, my all-in-black, heavily armed, badass Rangeman bodyguards at my back! Awesome. I can't get rid of the guys, so I am learning to work the situation. Ssshhhh! Don't tell daddy, okay?
This is a club not a class so Ms Nichols is sitting in the adjacent window-view office, working on her laptop. Not really leading us, just around if we need her. Something on her laptop screen makes her smile and shake her head in mock dismay and I think again how pretty she is. Her prettiness reminds me of my friend Steph's looks, she too is beautiful in a nice way. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and think I will never be pretty like they are.
Ms Nichols wears no rings—and we call her Ms Nichols—so no husband or fiance' seems to be in the picture. I read my cell phone messages and see that my Uncle Anthony will be picking me up. The gears turn in my head and I smile.
to be continued