Disclaimer: All of the characters, personalities, and backgrounds belong to the delightful Janet Evanovich.

The Poker Game

It had been one of those days. No, make that one of those weeks. My name is Stephanie Plum, and I work as a bond enforcement agent in the lovely state of New Jersey. It isn't exactly what I'd call my dream profession, but I get to pick my own uniform and my own hours. Not to mention it usually comes through when I need some quick cash to appease my bill collectors.

Some days it's alright. I've met some pretty interesting people, and my take-downs with Lula, my friend and hooker-turned-bounty-hunter-sidekick, are usually highly entertaining. We've only injured a few of our skips, and to be fair, most of them probably deserved what they got. But this last week had me seriously pouring over the want-ads in search of new employment.

My cousin Vinnie's bail bonds office had been slow, and I only had one FTA file to work with. His name was Melvin Sanderson, and he had been arrested for robbing three convenience stores. On the third store, his beater of a car wouldn't start, and the police chased him down. Didn't seem all that bright to me, so I figured it would be an easy capture. The only problem was I was on my own. Lula had been out sick all week. If things got too crazy, there was always Ranger, but I saved that call for when the skip had big guns or was brought in on charges of rape, battery, or murder. Anything less than that, and I could pretty much hold my own…most days.

Besides, Ranger seems to only complicate things for me. In a way, he's kind of like Trenton's version of Batman. He wears all black, drives expensive, black vehicles, and I'm pretty sure he's part ninja. He also has this somewhat annoying habit of tracking my every movement, which I have to admit, has come in handy on occasion. He mostly keeps to himself and is literally a man of few words, and all of this is really no big deal except for the fact that I am horribly and irresistibly attracted to him. And we may have slept together a few times. It's like that moth to the flame business, and he always seems to know right when to turn up the heat.

All of this makes things complicated with my off-again on-again boyfriend, Joe Morelli. Morelli is a plain clothes cop with the Trenton PD who took a troubled and wild childhood and really made the most of it. He now owns a house complete with curtains, a toaster, and lovable dog, Bob, who eats everything. He enjoys spending time with me (mostly in the bedroom), and I'm pretty sure he might even be inclined to marry me if it weren't for my job and some major commitment issues. We're currently in some funky gray zone of the off-again on-again thing, so I haven't seen much of him lately.

I thought about giving Morelli a call to find out a little background on Sanderson, but I knew the real reason I wanted to talk to him; I was feeling kind of lonely. I decided after several minutes of debating that I could play it professional and pulled up his number on my cell phone.

"Hey, you busy?" I asked nonchalantly. "Yeah, what's up?" He sounded slightly irritated. I was hoping it was because of a case he was working and not because I was being a pain in his butt. Who was I kidding? It was obviously because of the latter.

"You know, never mind. I was just seeing if maybe you could give me a little more info on a skip, but I don't want to bother you if you're busy." Silence. "Anything else?" he asked with a sigh. "Umm, nope? Have a good day then, I guess." The phone went dead. Apparently Joe and I were in the off-again phase of our relationship. Good to know. This unfortunately equated to no weekend fun for Stephanie…

I drove to the address listed in the file for Sanderson and watched from my car across the street. Because of the previous call with Morelli, I was kind of in a huff. I gave myself a brief pep talk, threw some basics into my shoulder bag like my cuffs, hairspray can, and stun gun, and walked up to the door.

The house was older and in every level of disrepair. Apparently Mr. Sanderson was not Mr. Fixit. The yard had gone to pot, and the overhang on the porch looked like it might collapse on me at any moment. I lightly pounded on the door twice with no answer.

"Mr. Sanderson!" I called. "Anybody home?" As I was turning to walk back to my car, I heard movement from inside. "Mr. Sanderson?" I asked. "Yeah, that's me," he grumbled. He was a little scragglier and a lot dirtier than his mug shot. I did an internal grimace. "Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum. You missed your court appearance. I'm going to need to take you in to get rebonded." He scowled. "Not goin' in," he said and slammed the door. I've had worse kick back, so I knocked again.

"Mr. Sanderson, I promise it won't even take that long. Just come with me and I'll have you there and back in no time," I called. The door started to open again. Well that was easy. Finally, someone who wanted to cooperate.

Maybe if I hadn't have been in a huff about Morelli, my common sense would have told me that Mr. Sanderson was not interested in coming with me, but regardless of who was to blame, I found myself in a place I shouldn't have been. Namely a place that was within arm's reach of Sanderson. He flung open the door and shoved me with incredible force down his porch steps. "Get off my property!" he bellowed.

I tumbled down the steps, and in the process I landed funny and twisted my ankle while simultaneously slamming into a rusty, old garbage can that sliced into my back. I took in a deep breath and stood with as much dignity as I could muster. Sanderson glared at me from the doorway, so I started hobbling backwards toward my car. "You know, maybe we'll do this later," I said. I drug myself back across the street and collapsed on my driver's seat. It was time to call it a day.

I drove home in a funk. The call with Morelli had made me grumpy, but the shove from Sanderson had made me mad. This job was stupid. I didn't even know this guy, and he had just inflicted bodily harm. I'm a nice and decent person on most days. I didn't deserve that. My ankle was already starting to swell, and I was pretty sure my back was bleeding. It was time for a hot shower, and maybe afterward I'd take inventory and assess the damage.

I managed to work through some of my emotions in my steaming bathroom, and I have to admit, I was feeling a little better by the time I'd blow dried my hair. My ankle was still two sizes too big, and I had a lovely gash down the left side of my back, but I've looked much worse. It was time to do some thinking. Since this whole bounty hunter thing was currently driving me nuts, I started by looking through the want ads. Not a whole lot to choose from, but I circled a few possibilities then went to check out the fridge situation. There were a few staples on hand like peanut butter and some olives, but I really needed to go grocery shopping. No way was I going out with a sprained ankle, so instead I made a call to my mother.

"Are you coming home for dinner?" she asked laying on the guilt. I gave her a quick rundown of my situation with the whole swollen ankle, cleverly omitting the bits that included an angry skip. She was sympathetic and offered to drop by later that evening with some leftovers. Score!

We exchanged some pleasantries and some neighborhood gossip before hanging up. I looked around and sighed. The apartment would need some tidying before she dropped by, which would be no easy task with a bum leg. I frowned. Hopefully there would be a few slices of chocolate cake with the leftovers to ease the pain of a rough day.

After my mom left, I made up a plate of some leftover meat loaf and potatoes then propped my swollen ankle on some pillows on the couch and turned on the TV. There wasn't much on, and I've never really been one to sit around. That was probably another perk of being a bounty hunter. It kept me busy, and I didn't have to stay in one spot for too long unless I wanted to. Having an injury was a different story.

I aimlessly flipped through channels for a half an hour before I decided to make a phone call. Lula was still sick, Morelli was being a jerk, and I wasn't quite up to getting an earful of shenanigans from Grandma Mazur. That left Ranger. Smalltalk wasn't his best talent, so I decided to invite him over.

I scrolled through my contacts list and dialed his number. "Babe," said the familiar voice on the other end. "Hey," I said. "Wanna come over?" At first it was silent. Then came the question. "And the nature of this visit would be?" I thought for a minute. "Umm…social?" Social could mean a lot of things, right? And many of those things had nothing to do with booty calls. This get-together was like seventy-five percent safe. Ok, maybe more like twenty-five percent.

I could sense that twitch of a smile on the other end. "I'm tied up here tonight, and I have a pretty full schedule tomorrow. How does tomorrow night sound?" Delightful. "Sounds great. See you then." We both hung up.

So now I had a date with Ranger. Perfect! I tried to ignore that feeling I get with all the complicated Ranger stuff. After all, I had had a really bad week. Didn't I deserve some fun? My mind started running with the "fun" idea then hit a small roadblock when I saw the key to Morelli's house on my keyring.

Maybe Ranger and I could just sit around and chat. Friends do that sort of thing, right? Only the truth was, conversations were usually short-lived with Ranger, which usually left some awkward silences that had to be filled with something. The problem was that Ranger usually knew exactly what he wanted to fill that something with, and all it took was that look and a few passionate kisses and I'd be helpless to say no.

Then I saw it. "That's it!" I yelled excitedly into my mostly empty apartment. Rex, my pet hamster, crawled sleepily out of his soup can. I think he glared at me for interrupting his sleep, but it's kind of hard to tell with hamsters. I gave him a cracker by way of an apology anyway.

I hobbled to the bathroom and washed my face to get ready for bed. Thinking about my new brilliant plan, I smiled smugly at myself in the mirror. I had figured out a way to be just a little naughty with Ranger. At least it sounded good to me at the time. Just to make sure, I decided to sleep on it. If it still sounded good in the morning, then I was definitely going to run with it.

I called Connie at the bonds office in the morning to let her know I wasn't coming in with the bum ankle. She told me it was probably a good thing since everything was so slow right now. I wished her luck dealing with Vinnie and set to work on my plan for the evening. The swelling in my ankle was starting to go down, which made getting around a little easier. My back still hurt really badly. I figured it was probably due to some internal bruising, so I slapped on a couple clean bandages and tried my best to ignore it. Then I was ready to put my plan into action.

The plan was this: Grandma Mazur had recently returned from a trip to Atlantic City, and although she didn't return with something as nice as extra cash to share, she did return with a deck of playing cards for me. They had some nice beach scene on them (Grandma was disappointed they didn't have any with some scantily clad men…), and not really knowing what to do with them, I had tossed them on a table in my living room. Now I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them. Ranger and I were going to play a few hands of poker. More specifically, strip poker. And I was going to win.

I rummaged through my closet and found several clothing items that seemed to suit my purposes. Thankfully I had done laundry at my parent's house only a few days before, so most of my clothing was clean. I decided on a thong, two bras, two pairs of underwear, a pair of boxer shorts, two tank tops, three t-shirts, a pair of skin-tight stretchy pants, a pair of jeans, and a sweatshirt. I was hedging my bets since I knew I probably wasn't the best card player. Ranger would probably only be wearing a t-shirt, some cargo pants, socks, shoes and potentially underwear, so chances were if I even won a handful of rounds, I would more than likely come out on top…no pun intended.

I carefully pulled on all my layers trying to avoid too much contact with my aching back and ankle. When I was done, I stood and took a look at myself in the mirror. I looked like an idiot. My hips looked gigantic with all the layers of underwear (and I couldn't even button my jeans over the mass). The top half didn't look much better. And on top of everything, I was starting to feel really hot. My cheeks were flushed in a bright pink bordering on red. I decided it best to take it easy and not exert any unnecessary energy, so I grabbed a quick snack and took a nap.

I still wasn't feeling up to hobbling out to my car, so I ordered in Chinese for dinner. The boxes of food showed up in record time, and I debated about waiting to eat. It was getting kind of late, so I wasn't sure if Ranger had already eaten. I decided to stick the take-out boxes in the fridge. Besides, I wasn't really feeling all that hungry. In fact, I was feeling more butterflies than anything. This strip poker game was getting me really worked up.

I was just straightening up the living room when the air pressure of the room changed. There was a single knock and Ranger walked through the door. I'd long since given up guessing how Ranger always seemed to bypass my lock system, so instead I smiled and said "Hi." He looked me over from across the room and raised an eyebrow. "Nice outfit," he said. "I seem to be a bit underdressed. Literally." He was dressed in his usual Rangeman black t-shirt and cargo pants. They hung low on his hips. He'd probably gone commando. Just as I had hoped. "Nope," I smiled. "You look perfect."

He stood in the entryway seeming to debate his next move, but eventually made his way to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out the take-out boxes. "I take it this is for us," he called holding the Chinese boxes above the door. "Yeah," I answered. "You have the steamed rice and veggies with the grilled chicken. I have…well, everything else."

It was no secret in our relationship that I wasn't the healthiest of eaters, and on special occasions Ranger would indulge in the occasional bite of cake or single onion ring, but mostly he stayed on the boring path of nutritious eating. "Do you want me to heat yours up too?" he asked. I shook my head. "I'm not really that hungry right now. Ate a big lunch. But go ahead and eat if you're hungry."

I turned the TV on and we sat on the couch in silence while Ranger finished his dinner. "So this is a social gathering?" he asked setting his plate down. "What does a social visit usually entail?" Good question.

I'd convinced myself that it was supposed to include some talking and a game, but Ranger was looking way too attractive, and I was starting to sweat. These layers were turning out to be a really bad idea. "You're cheeks are kind of flushed. Are you feeling ok?" "I feel f-f-fine," I stuttered starting to feel flustered. I needed a distraction. "Hey, wanna play a game?" I asked pulling out the deck of cards from my sweatshirt pocket. Another eyebrow raise and a hint of a smile. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"How do you feel about a few rounds of poker?" I asked as I tried to shuffle the deck. The cards got tangled with my jittery fingers and a few flew across the room. Ranger is a smart guy, and I could feel things begin to click for him when he went to pick up the cards. "Just out of curiosity, what will we be playing for?" he asked. "Clothing," I answered with a sly smile. "Sounds like my kind of game. But you better let me shuffle." I handed him the rest of the deck. Let the games begin.

Naturally, I lost the first four rounds, which isn't as disappointing as it sounds. I was starting to feel really hot and uncomfortable, so taking off the sweatshirt, a couple shirts, and my outer layer of pants was kind of a relief. It was after losing the two rounds afterward when I started feeling a little nervous.

I looked over at Ranger, eyeing him suspiciously. Ranger has an automatic poker face that shows little to no emotion all day every day. It's kind of unnerving.

"You're cheating," I said accusingly taking two cards with the deck. "You should talk," he smiled. "What do you have on? Twenty layers of clothing? I'd say you had this all planned out, but unfortunately for you, I can hold my own with cards." Oh great.

"Whatever, you're probably stacking the deck," I huffed. "Have you ever known me to be dishonest?" he asked innocently. Ranger is a mean's-to-an-end type of guy. I haven't actually known him to be dishonest ever…unless it might serve a greater purpose. Tonight, I had no doubt of Ranger's purposes. His end-game was clear.

"I need some water. Do you want anything?" I asked. "I'm fine, thanks." I got up and started hobbling to the kitchen. "Here, let me get it," he said. "I didn't realize you were hurt. When did this happen? I didn't see you check in at any of the hospitals." He grabbed a glass from a cupboard. I looked down at my ankle. "The other day I had a bit of a tussle with a skip. No big deal. My ankle is starting to feel better. Back still hurts like the dickens. I've got a pretty good scrape down my side." I did a mischievous grin. "Play your cards right, and you might even get to see it." He smiled back. "Oh, you can count on it."

I managed to get some lucky hands on the next two rounds, and Ranger lost his shirt and socks. Ranger has always been incredibly self-assured. He doesn't bat an eye with clothes on or off. So here he is shirtless, acting cool as a cucumber. Me, on the other hand, I'm about ready to hyperventilate. I secretly wonder if he lost the last two hands on purpose, just to prove he wasn't cheating, but I'm not going to say anything about it. Then I'm suddenly down to my last two articles of clothing, and I know one of two things must be true: I am either the worst poker player ever or I have just been played. I suppose it's possible for both to be true. I'll have to play Morelli sometime just to be sure.

I can't tell if it's my frustration about losing the poker games, the current temperature of the apartment, or that smoldering look I'm getting from Ranger, but even without all my layers, I'm still feeling quite warm. Ranger lays down a full house and now I've lost my top. I feel exposed on every possible level, so I really just want to get the last hand over with. And just like that, the game's over: I have two pair and Ranger has a straight. "Alright," he says smugly. "I won. Pay up."

I stand and try to shimmy out of my thong, but I'm feeling really shaky. Ranger gets up, pulls me into him, and kisses me while tugging the thong over my hips, but then he pulls back suddenly. "Babe, I thought you were just blushing, but your skin is really warm. Are you running a fever?" And that's all I really remember because like all my articles of clothing that evening, I'm pretty sure that's when I hit the floor.

I woke up in a strange bed and couldn't place where I was. Maybe Ranger had whisked me away to the bat cave or something. After a few minutes, things started to clear up, and I realized there were beeping machines and other electronic gizmos going. I was in a hospital bed. Ranger was sitting next to me with a concerned look on his face.

"What happened?" I asked still in a groggy haze. "I had just won our little poker game, but you took the easy way out and passed out on the couch." "Oh. Sorry about that," I mumbled. "I suppose I can overlook it considering you had a fever of 104°F." He frowned. "Seems like the scratch on your back was a little more serious than you thought. It was really enflamed, so when I brought you here they cleaned it, bandaged you up, gave you a tetanus booster, and currently have you on some pretty heavy antibiotics." "Is that all?" I asked sarcastically with a dopey grin. I saw a hint of a smile in return, but obviously the fun was over.

"I called Morelli. I figured he'd want to know that you're here." Interesting. "Thanks," I replied. "I better go," he said while getting up to leave. "No point in getting into an awkward situation." Easy for him to say. I was the one stuck in the hospital bed with Morelli on the way. "I guess I'll catch you later then," I sighed. "Until next time," he smiled as he kissed my cheek and left.

Morelli showed up twenty minutes later. "Ranger called and said you were in the hospital. Are you all right?" Just peachy. "I'm doing better than I was an hour ago," I grimaced. "I had a bit of an altercation with a skip earlier this week, and it resulted in a collision with a rusty garbage can. I was trying to tough it out, but I guess you can only do so much to combat rust and an infection." I lifted my hospital gown and showed him my bandage. "Apparently it looks pretty nasty. Jagged, pussy and infected. Probably will leave an interesting scar." Morelli frowned. "I was really worried about you. I'm glad you're feeling better." I smiled. I was glad too.

"Want me to stick around for a while?" he asked. "I could pick up a magazine from the gift shop. We could do one of those crazy quizzes to see if we're really meant to be together." He leaned a little closer and whispered in my ear, "and maybe when you're feeling a little better we could do a little compatibility test of our own." I smiled and shook my head. "You're terrible. Here I am laid up in a hospital bed with a semi-serious injury, and you're thinking about that." He shrugged his shoulders, winked at me, and left to go get the magazine.

I sat twiddling my thumbs for a moment then realized my deck of cards was sitting on the tray next to me. That was odd. Maybe Ranger grabbed them thinking they were poisoned or something. Stranger things had been known to happen to me, I guess.

I opened them thinking I'd give myself a little extra practice at shuffling and was surprised to find a little piece of paper tucked inside. "Babe," it said, "if you really want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask." I crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash. I chuckled to myself and did a sigh. It was definitely something to keep in mind.