Disclaimer: Ya'll know the drill. I own nothing remotely related to the Stephanie Plum novels. Although, I do own a box of Butterscotch Krimpets, that counts for something right? All the characters a property of the wonderfully brilliant mind of Janet Evanovich. I wouldn't mind owning a Ranger clone. At this point I'm even willing to settle for a Ranger Commando doll.

I'm not sure exactly how I find myself in these situations, or to be more exact, how these situations manage to find me. But here I am Stephanie plum Bounty Hunter Extraordinaire, well more like Bounty Hunter close my eyes and hope for the best, handcuffed and locked in the trunk of my own car. My life is shit. Okay I have a few options, I can call my on-and-off again boyfriend Morelli (currently on) a.k.a Super cop and endure another one of his Italian rants. Yipee. I can call my mentor Ricardo Carlos Manoso, a.k.a Ranger, a.k.a Batman and risk being sexual assaulted, although I'm pretty sure you can't rape the willing. Or maybe I can just live in here. Really if I think about it it's not too bad. Decent amount of space, no overexposure to sunlight, maybe Pino's even makes deliveries. Before I even realize I'm doing I've whipped out my phone and started dialing the first number that came to mind.

"Yo"

"Yo yourself"

"Babe?"

"Are you busy?" I really don't want to do this, but it's too late to hang up on Ranger. The Merry Men recently informed me Rangers collected quite a few frequent flyer miles, and with the threat of being shipped off to a third world county I've been being as obedient as my personality will allow.

"Depends"

"On…" See I could be monosyllabic to.

"Should I update my health insurance?" What a joker.

"I'm in a tricky situation."

"Where are you."

"Parked outside of Pino's"

"Be there in ten" click.

While I'm waiting for Ranger I've got plenty of time to ponder how I ended up in this situation. Stupid Frankie Barlow. I had spent nearly 15 minutes playing merry go round the car trying to handcuff him. And as luck would have it ended up being stunned by my own stun gun, and tossed into my own trunk.

Ranger would never have this problem, all Ranger had to do was look at an FTA and they would throw themselves in the trunk. Ranger's the shit, he make Rambo look like mighty mouse. I haven't talked to Ranger for almost three weeks, ever since my night of ruination. We spent one night together while Morelli and I were on a break, and then the next morning he told me to go back to Morelli, because his life didn't lend it's self to relationships, Yup, he actually said that to me, it sounds like it deserves a spot in a b-movie or something.

My phone rings and jars me out off my thoughts.

"ello" I answer.

"Babe?"

"Yes Ranger"

"I'm standing next to your car, where are you?"

In response to his question I begin to beat to the trunk and scream.

"Oh" Click.

Just once I'd like to hang up on him first.

Seconds later the trunk is popped open and I see warm liquid eyes surveying me for damage. Ranger reaches in and grabs a hold of my waist and pulled me out of the trunk.

'Thanks" I mumble trying not to meet his eyes. He digs in the pocket of his S.W.A.T. pants and produces the keys to the handcuffs.

"No problem. You're saving me from a stack of paperwork. Anyway I need you for a job."

Uh-Oh, the last job I took from Ranger entailed getting felt up by a pushy druggie. Not exactly my idea of a good time.

"When?"

"Tonight 8:00"

"It's already 5:00." I whined, then instantly regretted it when an image of me hunched over a sewing machine in a sweatshop floated through my head.

I cleared my throat. "Give me the spill."

Ranger swiftly walked over to his black CR-V, and returned a few moments later with a file. It looked a bit thick. I prayed this guy was just a kleptomaniac who forgot his court date. Not such luck.

"Michel Rims" I read out loud. "Wanted for counterfeiting, racketeering… That doesn't sound too bad" I flipped the page and continued. "Domestic abuse, sexual assault, suspect in murder." Mental gulp. I looked back up at Ranger whose face was etched in its normal stoic expression.

"I'll be ready."

Three hours later I was wondering why I had agreed to this. Oh yeah, it was either this or the third world country, and I've heard how humid it gets, humidity and my hair don't mix. Give me the psychotic rapist any day. I'm just sliding into my four inch FMP's when the locks begin to tumble. A normal person would be freaking out by now. I'm not a normal person. I smile as Lester and Bobby shove their way into the apartment each trying to score the better view. Both of them were sexy as hell, it might be a requirement if your work with Ranger. Humm I'd have to ask him about that. I knew I looked good dressed in the tight little black dress every female should own. My hair was having a good day, and was piled high on my head in a twisty-do. The result of my outfit was half-classy-half-trashy. Guaranteed to turn on any straight guy in a ten-yard radius.

"Ready boys" I smiled cheekily.

"You have no idea how ready" Lester faked a stage whisper. Any other women would have been reaching for the condoms and tugging him to the bedroom. But I had another guy on my mind. I sashayed up to the two and linked my arms with both of them.

"Let's get the party started gentlemen."

Lester, having the gentlemen routine down pack, made sure to make a big show of opening the lobby door for me. Ditto with the truck door. I wondered if it was making Ranger jealous, damn where had that come from. I climbed in the truck and was immediately disappointed.

"Where's Ranger" I asked trying to sound nonchalant.

"He'll meet us out back."

Sure enough, as we pulled up to the back of the club, I spotted a lone figure leaning against the wall. I took a deep breath squared my shoulders like I was going into battle. Which technically I was. I strode up to Ranger, who was decked out in his normal army pants and black t-shirt that looked as if it had been spray painted on, and pasted a big smile on my face.

Ranger retuned the smile and pulled a small mic out of and envelope. Instead of letting me slip it into my bra he took the liberty of sliding his fingers in and clipping the mic on.. His touch was warm, and my breath caught. I tried not to collapse at his feet. When I looked into his eye and saw that they had turned darker with desire. Not good.

He pulled me close "Babe…"

As suddenly as he grabbed me, he let me go. He nodded as he slid into the shadows, indicating it was time to make my grand entrance.

Hi guyz, I'm looking forward to some feedback, yes even constructive criticism. I'm a total glutton for punishment, even if it's at my own hands.

REESE