Nocturne for Stephanie
Set shortly after the end of Turbo Twenty Three. May contain spoilers of books 1-23.
I don't own anything. All Plum characters belong to JE.
I'm based in the UK so my grammar, vocabulary and spelling may differ from a New Jersey native.
I've rated this M as these are adults and they might get up to adult things.
Chapter 1
The life of this bounty hunter has never been glamorous. It has kept me, most of the time, in Tastykakes and meatball subs in a manner to which I have become accustomed. I know my life is non-conventional and no two days are alike, unless you consider ruining another pair of jeans or falling in garbage. But over recent weeks I am slowly becoming accustomed to another aspect of my non-conventional life.
It's become a little game, I think.
I know. I'm fairly sure he knows I know but there no way we'll be telling each other this. Who am I kidding, of course he knows I know, he's freakin' Batman. Either way, how do you start that conversation? Erm Batman, what's with the chair?
So, here I am lying on my bed at 4pm in the afternoon in my thinking position. I'm not only trying to figure out how to catch my 70 year old FTA, Mr Malskine who somehow managed to outrun me earlier today, but also going in circles over a discussion that will never happen however is driving me insane.
I think I've always known he visits me in the dark of night. I've sensed him sat there silently observing as I try to sleep. Recently though, it's been more frequent.
Thankfully before I do any real brain damage, my cellphone interrupts my wandering thoughts.
"Hi Mom"
"Stephanie, this is your mother"
"Yes Mom" I sigh, when will she figure out caller ID?
"Angie Morelli called to tell me that Mrs Eidermann saw you running down Morris Avenue today and it looked like you were chasing poor old Mr Malskine." I sighed.
"Don't sigh at me young lady. No one else's daughter feels the need to chase defenceless seniors in broad daylight. Now before you start to tell me what heinous crime you think Mr Malskine has been accused of, I was in Giovanni's earlier today and picked up a nice piece of meat for the pot roast and you need to come to dinner, they'll be plenty of leftovers for you to take home. I have your laundry from last week and it's taking up space in hallway. I noticed you were running low on matching socks so picked up a new pack for you."
Bless you mother, food and laundry. Before I could take a breath, she continues in a whisper. "I also picked up a pack of pants for you too. They're tucked under your folded shirts. I didn't count the number of pairs in your laundry but it definitely didn't look like you had enough sensible sets to get you through the week. There was even a pair of Tinkerbell pants in here. What grown women needs fairies on her undergarments?" Good grief. I bet she's bought me granny pants, or worst still have the days of the week printed front and centre with a delicate bow.
"Thank you, Mother." I manage to grind out from between my clenched jaws. I will admit that sensible underwear has not been on the top of my mind as I got dressed in recent days. Something about having a Cuban sex god in my bedroom at night, even if he wasn't in my bed, had inspired my choice of clothing in the morning. Sensible pants just didn't cut it when my hormones woke up humming each morning. My credit card was taking more than the usual hammering at Victoria's Secrets.
"So, you'll be here for six, then?"
"What? Erm, sure." I might have gotten side-tracked thinking on Mr Mystery and underwear, drool, and hoped I hadn't missed anything in my conversation with my Mother.
"Good. Well I can't spend all day chatting with you. I'll see you later." click and she was gone.
So, there you have it. While we're not much of a hugging family, she loves me. She just told me as much. She's doesn't approve of my career choice, and wishes I was happily married with children of my own, but she still keeps me in sock, pants and leftovers.
Now, where was I? Thinking position re-assumed. Man of Mystery or FTAs? Who am I kidding? Ranger every time.
I noticed his visits were becoming more frequent around two months ago. In the past he's shown up a couple of nights before he's disappeared into the wind. I would only know he was back when I felt that tingle on the back of my neck as he stalked into the bonds office sometime later. So, what's different this time? Why is he here now almost every night? Doesn't Batman need any sleep?
I got so concerned around three weeks ago and made a big life decision without really thinking about it. Strangely, I don't regret it yet. I'm probably still in denial land.
After I broke my leg, Joe and I fell into an easy routine after a rocky start.
Our usual pattern of take out, hockey game on tv, making out for a bit before heading upstairs to bed was on hold until the cast was removed. Well certainly the heading upstairs for sex bit due to
Joes fear of injury.
Shortly after I got the cast our regular make out session became particularly amorous and was heading towards sex on his couch. I accidentally knocked 'the boys' with my then plastered foot as I attempted to shuffle up the length of the couch. I can still remember the look in his watery eyes as he grasped his temporarily crippled manhood.
"Jeez, Cupcake. You trying to kill a man?"
After I'd recovered from my giggles and Joe from his life-threatening injury, the mood was officially over for the night. Apparently as a woman I could never understand the pain and trauma he suffered.
Turns out it was ruined for more than that night. Anytime we approached what might be considered nocturnal activities Joe would glance at my encased leg and move away with a sigh.
"Cupcake, you know I love you, but that 'thing' scares me. I can't believe the Italian Stallion has been tamed by plaster of paris."
As I was mostly trapped in my apartment while my leg healed Joe became the chivalrous boyfriend. He'd come over after his shift and drive me to either his place or my parents for dinner to ensure I didn't go insane from staring at the same four walls.
But it was purely platonic until the enemy was removed. Just the day before the cast came off he caught a big case and I hardly saw him for several weeks. It was around then I noticed my night-time visitor was making more frequent visits.
Around a month later Joe reappeared and I spent the afternoon shaving, buffing and generally preening myself ready for the return of our sexual relationship. Instead we had the most mature conversation of my adult life.
After a heat filled dinner at Pino's Joe drove us back to my place and opened the door to the apartment with our arms and lips wrapped round each other. At this point my mind woke up.
'What time is it? When will Ranger get here? I don't want Joe to see Ranger, hell I don't want Ranger to not come tonight because Joe is here. Why does he come here? We should have gone back to Joe's.'
"Cupcake?" Joe interrupted my thoughts "Is everything ok?"
Shit. "Everything is more than fine. Sorry, where were we?" I reached up to run my fingers in his hair and pull his face down to mine.
"Stephanie" Crap, my full name. "Come sit down with me, can we talk?" And he led me over to my couch. We sat like we had many times before to watch tv. Somehow not facing each other makes it easier to talk. His long arm wrapped over my shoulder and I leaned in to rest my head.
"I love you, I want to marry you." He sensed me tense up. "before you say anything" he continued "I wanted you to know what I feel and want. Right now, I want nothing more than to drag you off to bed and reintroduce you to 'the boys'. But it's important to me that we're heading in the same direction."
I remember that night as if it was yesterday. After the initial shock of Joe and I talking rather than screaming at each other we fell into deep conversation. Somehow the weeks of platonic evenings and gentle chatting while my leg was in a cast had prepared us to behave like grownups and actually talk.
"This last case was bad, really bad." Joe sighed "I don't want to see something like that again. I need something good to come home to that will offset the ugly I deal with at work every day. I know you won't ever be a housewife tied to the kitchen, but I want you to be there for me, with me and our family. Cupcake, I need a favour. I need to know if you'll ever marry me."
I've no idea if Ranger did come to visit that night. I'm not sure that Joe or I would have noticed as we stayed up and really talked to each other for the first time. Sure, there were some raised voices and arm waving, we're Italian after all. But we held on to each other as we shared our hopes and expectations to each other. As dawn broke we finally wiped away the tears and unwrapped ourselves from each other's arms.
"Joe, I'll always love you. Don't let us become strangers." I looked deeply into his eyes and sighed.
"Cupcake, you won't be that lucky. I still love you now and always will. Maybe when we're old and grey we can sit in rockers next to each other at the nursing home and remind each other that we still care." With that Joe walked out the door and out of my love life.
Turns out, with Joe I can do the relationship but not the commitment. He wants both, so right now we're being grownup and walking away. Strangely enough I didn't fall apart.
I've spent quite a bit of time over the last three weeks wondering why I finally cut my ties to Morelli and why I'm ok with it. Of course, my mother or the Burg don't know yet which is probably why it's been so simple.
While I have no real answers a lot of my circular thinking takes me back to Ranger.
I should just give up trying to figure it out. Who knows why he sits there in the dark. But now there's no risk of Joe being here too, and that gives me some comfort. At least I know his chair will always be there for him even if he won't let me in on the secret.
"Crap is that the time? Rex, why didn't you tell me it was 5.45, I can't be late for dinner."
A/N – This is my first piece of creative writing in over 25 years. You amazing fanfiction authors have inspired me to try something new. I've loved reading your stories.
I hope the characters aren't too OOC.
I have a plan for where this story will go. Helen and Joe will have plenty of opportunity to revert to type. I don't hate either of their characters, I just think Stephanie deserves better.
I have a couple more chapters waiting in the wings once I've given them the final review.
Please let me know what you think, but please be kind. This is very much outside my comfort zone.