Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich, except Ranger who is MINE and I will never, ever, let him go! Also, I am flat broke, and writing this will in no way remedy the situation. Unfortunately.

Chapter one:

"Babe."

Oh no, I did not just hear that voice, that nickname. Not here, of all places! I was NOT going to turn around and see if he was there, if I just ignored him, he would go away. Not that he could since he wasn't there. Oh yeah, denial was definitely the way to go.

My name is Stephanie Plum, and I used to be a bounty hunter. Yeah, I know, it sounds cool, doesn't it? But the truth of the matter is, I kinda sucked at it. I spent my days going after low level bonds. I spent a lot of time rolling in garbage, and only made the bare minimum of money to cover my rent and hamster-food. My insurance company was becoming down right hostile because of all the cars I managed to blow up, and I was torn between two men who both loved me, just not unconditionally. It didn't help things that I loved them both, and couldn't choose between them. I felt as if I was being pulled in every direction, and it was only a matter of time before something snapped. Most likely me.

One year ago, I finally had enough of being the butt of every joke and bet in Trenton, so I did what anybody would have done. I moved to Ireland. All right, so maybe not "anybody", but definitely some, because I got the idea on the internet when I came across an add for a recruitment company who was recruiting people for a job opening in… you guessed it, Ireland. I never really planned it, I just sent in my CV on impulse, to see what would happen. What happened was that I was contacted by a very nice lady who seemed convinced that I would be perfect for the job. That was such a nice change of pace, as normally nobody, including myself, has any confidence in me doing anything right. Anyway, she convinced me to go through a phone interview, which I did, and then another one, and then I was offered the job!

Up until that point, I had not seriously considered going through with it, but suddenly I had options. I could stay, and nothing would change, or I could go and see what life could be like outside of Trenton, New Jersey. Doesn't seem like such a tough choice, does it? But truth is, I had never really wanted to live anywhere else, the whole "travelling and see the world" had never really appealed to me. Still, I desperately needed the change, and I ended up accepting the job.

The company I was to work for was a big computer company, I was to be in customer relations. The company paid for my ticket, and when I arrived I was to receive a relocation package to cover moving-expenses. It was a good deal, but I still couldn't believe I was actually going through with it until I was sitting on the plane, heading for Europe. From the time that I sent in the CV to the time I landed in Ireland, three weeks had passed. Only three weeks! And I hadn't told anyone what I was up to. Not because I wanted to just disappear, I know I couldn't. One of the men mentioned previously is a cop called Joe Morelli, and the other one a mercenary-man of mysteries-Batman-meets-James Bond-type, called Ranger. There was no way I could hide if they decided to find me. However, I didn't want to have to justify my decision to them, mainly because I didn't think I could. Deep down I knew that I was running away, taking the cowardly way out, and I knew they would call me on it. Well dammit, I wasn't in the mood to face that, so I just didn't tell them. Of course, not telling them meant I couldn't tell anyone else either. Ever heard the saying "What one person knows, one person knows. What two people know, everyone knows"? Well, that's the Burg. That's the area of Trenton that I come from. It's a nice place, but it is also gossip-central. So I didn't tell anyone, including my parents and best friends. I called them once I arrived in Ireland, and those phone calls made me very happy to be on a different continent. I didn't call Joe or Ranger, I figured they would contact me soon enough.

I was wrong though, they never called. It hurt, a lot, but distance really did make a difference. And there was plenty to keep me occupied and distracted from the thought of them. I was in training for my new job, I was moving into a house shared with two others, I was making friends, I was learning to understand the Irish dialect (that took me several months. Hell, it's been a year and I'm still struggling with it). After a few months I even started dating someone, but that turned out to be a big mistake. When a man starts talking about wanting to get back with his ex girlfriend during sex (!), you know you've taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Anyway, that's how I ended up here. On a bus stop, in pouring rain (you know how they say that it's always raining in Ireland? They're not lying), waiting for a bus that's unlikely to show up. The bus stop was crowded with colleagues, all anxious to get home after a long day, and every head seemed to be turned towards whoever was standing behind me. Not my head of course, in fact I shut my eyes tight and prayed silently that whoever it was would just go away. No such luck of course, instead he stepped closer. I could feel his warm presence behind me, immobile and strong, close but not quite touching. Then his hand settled on my neck, and I gave a startled squeak. His breath teased the skin at the nape of my neck as he repeated: "Babe."

Dammit, there was no way out. Ignoring him wouldn't make him go away, but I wasn't ready to turn around yet either. Instead I just asked "Yes?"

Damn, that came out a lot more breathless than I would have liked.

"Get in the car."

The hand on my neck turned me around, but I still wouldn't look at him. Instead I looked towards the car parked behind me. It was a black Bronco, and leaning against the side of it was a huge black man. He was dressed in black, and it was hard to make out his contours against the black car, but you could clearly see his teeth gleaming as he grinned towards me.

"Hi Bombshell, looking good."

I was dressed in a baggy all-weather jacket which came down to my knees, and I was soaked to the bone, my hair had long since escaped the pony tail I had made hastily this morning, and was now clinging to my face and neck, giving me the look of a drowned cat. I had also neglected to put on waterproof make up this morning, and I was trying very hard not to think of the state of my mascara.

"Thanks Tank, you too."

The hand on my neck squeezed slightly, and started steering me towards the Bronco. I considered resisting, but knew it wouldn't be much use. I would just be picked up and tossed into the car. Plus, the last bus had never showed up, and the one we were waiting for now was already late, so probably it would be a good thing to catch a lift. Hah, as if, if I had any sense I should be running as fast as my feet could carry me in the opposite direction.