Ok. PURE SATIRE.
That means, if you can't handle Morelli, Ranger, Stephanie, the Merry Men, Rex, and ANY plum character in here (save Bob) being out of character, don't read it, because they ALL are.
It's not really Babe, and definitely not Cupcake. It's just….satire.
As usual, I owe a big thank you to Stayce, for all the wonderful help….however…. I would also just like to say – this is all your fault! J
And now, without further ado, I present to you……………
Babe and the Pod of Whales (formerly known as the Merry Men)
Please note: No characters were harmed in the making of this fic. All characters remain the property of one Janet Evanovich, residing in the US OF A. They have all been returned in good health, with their memories successfully wiped. Never fear. Neither Ranger Nor Joe have been permanently traumatized by the following events.
Once upon a time, in a land where Robin Hood met Batman, Ranger found himself striding down the beach in Hawaii. He ducked away as a barely dressed woman went to place a lei around his neck, but wasn't quite fast enough. Glancing down and frowning at the flowers - vibrantly colored against his black pea coat - he wondered again what on earth Stephanie had been thinking. She had taken his whole contingency of staff, being that she was in need of bodyguards again, as well as Morelli, and ran off to Maui without a second thought, or even informing him. He was pretty sure he was angry, but he could never quite decipher his emotions where Stephanie was concerned. And mostly, he couldn't for the life of him figure out how she had managed to relocate his entire staff, even Ella. He was pretty sure he had only assigned her two bodyguards, Lester and Tank, before he rushed off to Miami to solve the latest mess evolving at his Florida Rangeman offices.
He glanced up and down the beach, looking for tell tale signs of his woman and the men guarding her. It wasn't, after all, like his men were hard to find. And yet he scanned the beach twice over, and couldn't locate a single one of them. Odd, considering he had been told, very specifically, by the desk clerk at Steph's hotel that she had gone to the beach, entourage in tow. And, he reminded himself, as soon as he found her he was going to have a little discussion with her about anonymity. If she was going to hide from a stalker, the least she could do was not book everyone under their real names. And just how did she find out all of his men's real names, anyway?
He'd ask her when he found her, he decided. If he found her. He scanned the beach again, raising a hand to block the sun. It was a hot sun, he noted, and he realized he was starting to sweat under the pea coat. He couldn't remember why on earth he had chosen to wear it, but he never did anything without a reason. It was just Steph taking over his mind, making him unable to think about anything else clearly anymore, he decided. He needed to get her out of his system, or something. Well, no better place to do that than in Hawaii.
A tightening in his stomach, the one that always told him when Stephanie was near, made him glance back towards a nearly fully shielded beach towel. It was neon pink and only the corner of it was visible, hidden behind a huge umbrella. He took in the beach surrounding it and didn't see any of his men, but decided to change his vantage point all the same. It couldn't hurt, he mused. As he circled around, checking out the towel from new angles, he spotted the cage. It wasn't very large, but yet it was large enough, hidden under the umbrella almost completely, keeping its occupant in complete shade. Right. Because Stephanie's new enemy was a wizard who transformed her into...something inhabiting that cage. Unless she was able to change form, it was most certainly not her who caused him to look twice.
He turned to survey the beach again, but something brought his gaze back to the cage on the towel. Narrowing his eyes and berating himself, and Stephanie, for twisting him in so many directions, he strode quietly closer in order to gain a better perspective. As he did, feet and perfectly shaped legs came into sight, stopping at a barely-there black bikini bottom. Before his eyes reached any farther, movement in the cage caught his attention and he watched in equal parts shock and horror as a hamster scurried out of a perfectly shaped and rather elegantly decorated soup can, a tiny little lei hanging around his neck. Rex. He couldn't fathom Stephanie bringing Rex to the beach. His Babe loved her hamster, but she hadn't been fanatical about him. But this, this was akin to old England, when the ladies of the ton had those useless little toy dogs, and brought them everywhere with them. Stay Poopsie, don't do your business THERE, Poopsie, hold it until we get home and our butler can hold you over the chamber pot, Poopsie. Poopsie! Don't attack Baron Hildebrand! He might be older than God and a total sleaze, but he is going to marry my eighteen-year-old daughter and make sure you can keep eating prime dog food until we all die.
Rex looked at Ranger a minute, clicked his teeth together, and scurried back into his soup can. Yeah, Poopsie, Rex was not. And yet, he was being treated like...
"What is it, Rex?" Stephanie's voice asked, confirming what Ranger already knew. He shifted around and let his gaze roam up her body, stopping at the minute scrap of black over her barely-concealed breasts, and then up to her face. Her hair was in perfect ringlets around her, and she was lying still and flat on the towel, pointed sunglasses on her face, making her look astonishingly like Catwoman. The hamster stuck his head out his soup can and clicked his teeth two more times. "Company? I'm sure I told the boys that I was to be left to bathe in the sun. Alone. I know Lester thought I needed company, but really, I'd much rather his company later tonight. A girl gets tired of constant hovering. Don't you agree, Rex?" Rex clicked his teeth again, in disgust, Ranger was sure, and he certainly agreed. Lester was going to get a pounding if he really touched his Babe.
"He's not going away, is he Rex?" Stephanie said a moment later, on a bored sigh. One hand slowly reached up and tipped her sunglasses down ever so slightly. "OH. Ranger." She raised one eyebrow and replaced the sunglasses. He stood in silence and waited for more than that cold acknowledgement, but none came. He was contemplating covering her nearly naked body with his and kissing her senseless when she sighed again, and turned her head ever so slightly towards Rex. "Is he still here?" Rex scurried out of his soup can again, looked directly at Ranger, and clicked his teeth again. Once again, the hand carefully pulled the sunglasses halfway down and he found himself the recipient of a glare from the woman he loved.
"Is this a social visit?" She asked.
"Where are my men?" He asked, trying to see the brilliant blue of her eyes, still shielded by her cat-glasses. Rex made a shuffling sound in his can, then was silent. Stephanie let out another bored, dainty sigh, then carefully replaced the sunglasses and raised herself up on her elbows.
"Ohhh BOOOOYYYS..." She shrilled. There was a sudden dash of movement in the water, and his men started to emerge. As the flurry of activity subsided, his entire core team of men stood, lined up at the beach. Ranger was sure his heart missed at least five beats as he surveyed his men. Each held a brightly colored surfboard, resting against the sand and their hips, in their left hand. And each was wearing a pair of brightly colored board shorts with vibrant designs. Not a pair was of the same color. They looked decidedly like hippies, and he was sure no self-respecting man would willingly wear that getup. And then a slight movement from Stephanie brought his gaze slamming back to her perfect body, as her hand raised and she crooked her baby finger once, and then twice.
In a flash, his men surrounded her, without even appearing to notice his existence.
"Bombshell."
"Bomber."
"Sunshine."
"Bombshell."
"Beautiful."
"Princess."
"Goddess."
"Bombshell."
And the acknowledgements went on. But who had called her Goddess? He couldn't be sure quite who the voice belonged to, in the quick and over-lapping accolades. He would have loved to know who, exactly, she had pussy-whipped, but then realized that really, she had accomplished the feat with every one of his men.
"Boys." She said again, in the same dignified yet bored tone.
"What would you like, beautiful? Do you need a recharge?" Lester began to bend down, seeming to be preparing to lay beside Steph, to touch her body. Ranger's fists clenched at his sides. He was going to kill-
"Lester." Stephanie's voice was sharp as a knife. "I told you already. TONIGHT." Then her tone softened ever so slightly, back to the bored drawl. "You have a guest. Take him surfing with you." Her gaze shifted and he was sure, if the sunglasses were off, her gaze'd pierce him straight through. Her nose wrinkled slightly. "Ranger. Ditch the rags and haul ass to the water. But keep the lei. It suits you." Then, his Babe reached under her pillow and threw a ball of fabric at him. He caught it without thinking, as Stephanie let herself lay flat again, and waved her hand. "Dismissed." She said, and the men turned back to the water.
"Party's On!" Hal shouted as they raced back to the water and went flying into the surf. Ranger shuffled the ball of fabric in his hand around, and then unrolled it. Dangling from his hands were a pair of fluorescent orange board shorts, with bright yellow sunflowers on them.
"Babe." He sighed. Sighed! Since when did he sigh?
"Shoo." She waved her hand delicately towards the water. "Go play. But leave the coat. It will make Bob a nice snack."
He was pretty sure he'd just been soundly dismissed. He was sweltering hot in the coat anyways, so he shrugged it off and let it fall beside Rex's cage. He stared down at the board shorts in his hands for another moment, and felt his forehead involuntarily wrinkle. Well, nothing else to do but get on with it, he supposed. He didn't have much choice if he wanted to find out what his Babe was up to.
As he left to change, he spotted another familiar figure shuffling down the beach. It was Morelli, dressed in... A pink sarong with blue and green flowers all over it. it was tied around his waist, leaving him bare-chested. His face was expressionless, and he was walking a very familiar golden retriever. Well, kind of. It was kind of hard to walk a dog who insisted on having his nose up your dress, Ranger supposed. He didn't know whether he should laugh, or feel sorry for the poor bastard. Probably the latter, he thought with a distasteful glance at the orange board shorts in his hand. He approached the man and stopped two paces away.
"Morelli."
"Manoso." Morelli growled. "What did you do to her?"
"Excuse me?"
"You did something." He growled again. "Look at me. Look!"
Ranger's eyes scanned Morelli's form, and he felt a slow grin spread across his face. "You too?" He asked.
"Huh?"
"She's got you pussy-whipped, too?" He couldn't help the chuckle that rose in his throat.
Morelli squirmed away from Bob, who growled and shoved his nose deeper up the sarong. "Listen, Manoso. I don't know what you did, but -"
"Oh Mooooeee!" Stephanie's voice called out in the same tone she had used to call his men in out of the water. "Another Margarita." One hand extended out from underneath the umbrella, and she snapped her fingers together once before the hand disappeared once again.
"Moe?" Ranger's grin was so wide, his face felt like it was going to split open. Morelli's face went even darker, as impossible as that sounded. He stalked away, dodging Bob's nose as he went. Ranger watched him retreat, his squirming-chicken dance attracting attention and giggles from anyone he passed. With a small shake of his head, he headed off to change.
A few minutes later he had...well...he wasn't sure what he had done with his clothing, and was swinging down the beach feeling decidedly unlike himself. He headed back towards Stephanie's blanket, intent on beating, or kissing, some sense back into her. Whatever it took to get his Babe back, and his clothes back. But then he was tackled from behind and lifted high in the air. And then he was flying, falling, hitting the water, and scrambling up for air. Someone, he had no idea who, shoved a surfboard in his hand. The board matched the shorts to an exactness that was astonishing.
"Surf's up!" Lester hollered at him, grinning as he paddled out. With no other option, Ranger scrambled up on his board.
"Comin' right behind ya! Don't miss the wave, Dude!" Tank bellowed as he launched himself into the water, landing on his board amidst spray flying in every direction. They paddled out, and then surfed in on a large wave. The wave rode like a dream, as his muscles shifted to balance on the board, he felt like a boy who'd just found his wings. Tank was humming as they rode the wave, and he found himself singing along.
"If everybody had an ocean, across the U.S.A." He sang as they hit the beach and turned to run back into the surf.
"Hey, man." Woody ran up to join them. "You oughta build an ocean in the Rangeman building. We could surf alllll day."
Ranger cocked his head, and gave a slight nod. "Good idea. I'll get Louis to find a contractor to draw up the plans." And then they rushed into the surf, in a line of three, to ride another wave.
"A BAND!" Cal and Vince shouted gleefully, as they, along with Hal and Bobby came rushing in to join. They rode the next wave in a line, singing Surfin' USA at the top of their lungs, acapella style, as they rode in the biggest wave yet. They were, Ranger realized with a shock, really quite good at the singing thing. This realization stunned him for a second, just long enough that he crash landed the wave and fell to the sand. He decided, in a brief moment of clarity, that he would wait out this wave, and check on his Babe. He looked over to the pink towel, and was surprised to find a second person lying with Steph.
There was no mistaking Lula. Her large body was outfitted in a blindingly fluorescent lime green bikini with hot sun yellow polka dots. There was about as much fabric to that suit as Stephanie's. He staggered a few steps towards them, and then suddenly caught Lula's voice on the breeze.
"...Oughta get THE man to come rub my feet."
"Lula." Stephanie's voice was firm and bland, almost patronizing. "Remember what I taught you? Don't be calling them all the time. You can't be that available. Make it a treat. Make sure they know it's their HONOR to serve you."
"You call on SuperSludge all the time. He don't just be walkin' Bob."
"SuperSludge, as you call him, does not share my bed. EVER. He isn't allowed. The Beach boys share our beds. Therefore, THEY must be kept dangling, and waiting, and wanting. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise they be gone to better pastures."
"Something like that. A girl has to keep them on their toes."
He started to walk towards his Babe, to demand an explanation for her irrational thoughts, when Bobby slapped him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling to the sand. "Surf's great, man, don't miss the next wave!" He hollered, and then rushed back into the water, flinging himself onto his board. Then, Ranger's body was taken over again, and he found himself hitting the water and paddling out on his board again. They rode wave after wave, singing Surfin' USA, over and over, in perfect sync and tune. They could make a lot of money for this performance, he thought briefly as he reveled in the feeling of the waves.
Every now and then, he saw MOE bring Babe another Margarita. She was going to pass out soon, he figured. She didn't do alcohol well. He didn't much care though - as long as the waves were high, he'd be there riding them. Then, he realized with a start, that this might be the men's way of protecting Steph.
"Is this a cover?" He asked Tank as they paddled out for the next wave.
"What? A what? Man. We're surfin'. SURFIN' MAN! We're ridin' the waves."
Ok, maybe not, he thought, as he led the group in a new rendition of their continual song.
The next trip in, he landed almost on top of a pile of wet...something...that Bob had just horked up. As soon as he finished horking, he started nosing around Morelli's legs again. Ranger stared down at the mass with one brow raised.
"What?"
"Black silk boxers. Stephanie gave them to Bob. Bob ate them. I walked him until he eliminated them. Now I can put him away. So he can eat something else of Stephanie's choosing. So I can walk him. I'm off. Princess Cupcake will want another Margarita soon." Morelli stated tonelessly, closing the plastic bag he had scooped Bob's mess into before turning away and dragging Bob off, doing his avoid-the-nose dance as he went.
Ranger looked back towards Steph and thought again about going over and demanding - forcing - an explanation out of her, but the waves sang behind him, calling to him to the beat of Surfin' USA, and he turned back to join his men in their quest for the biggest wave. They surfed in V formations, and on one foot...even with linked arms. He wasn't sure that should be possible, but they seemed to have a balance and grace unheralded, and laughed and joshed as they sang along with Ranger, who seemed to be the natural leader for their song. And, he realized as if from outside his body, he was rather good at singing. He played with the tone and pitch of his voice, and started to loosen up and move his hips, effectively dancing on his surfboard as he rode each wave and sang at the top of his lungs.
On one wave in, he thought he saw Stephanie watching them, sunglasses pulled down and a faint smile on her face. She looked like his Babe, at that moment, mildly amused and…well, just like her self. But then he blinked and the glasses were back up and the mouth set in that same bored line... The ocean lapped at his feet as he turned and headed back into it, ready to meet the next wave.
Their song and movements got decidedly sillier, and his men randomly lost their balance and fell beneath the surf. Sometimes they pulled an extra man or two in with them - why go down alone when you can take your buddies with you? Ranger moved to the outside of the group, leading the chorus but avoiding the raucousness...until Tank shoved him and sent him headlong into the ocean. He came up spluttering and grasped his board, swimming with long and lean strokes to the shoreline.
"You'll regret that." He said darkly, spinning and advancing on Tank. He didn't get more than half a step, however, before he was interrupted by Stephanie's voice, shrilling once again... "Ohhhh boooyyys."
Everyone scurried into line, and stood waiting. Somehow, he found himself in the middle of the lineup, slightly to the front of the rest of them. Stephanie crooked her pinkie finger, and his men started to advance. Odd, he thought, that his feet were moving with them of their own accord. And then they were in front of her, and Lula got up with a nod to Steph and tugged Tank off to the side. His men surrounded his Babe, coming together in a small circle.
"I find myself in need of some relief." She said, her voice flat and bored.
"Oh! I'd be honored, Beautiful." Lester exclaimed. He began to sink down beside her, when her entire hand went flying up at him, halting his movement.
"No. I told you Lester. TONIGHT." The hand came down, the sunglasses came off, and she tilted her head ever so slightly to stare directly at Ranger. "The Cuban Sex God will do. You look good in those shorts. You should wear color more often. Take them off." She reached down and tugged, undoing the bows that tied each end of her bikini bottoms together. The men cheered and leaned closer. Ranger watched in horror, his musical talent forgotten, as she began to slowly slide the scrap of fabric away, revealing...in the presence of... fuck. Quickly he dropped and covered her with his body.
"What are you doing?" He hissed. She squirmed against him and he felt himself harden instantly. Nobody had ever made him react so strongly before. Nobody save his Babe.
"I want it, and I want it now. Get. The. Shorts. Off." Unwittingly, he found his hands moving, and pushing down the board shorts, and then he was sliding into her, with his men cheering him on in the background...
Ranger bolted upright in bed, his heart in his throat. He reached up to scratch the tickle around his eyes, and found himself wiping away sweat, pushing damp locks of hair up past his forehead. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in his bedroom, Steph murmuring sleepy protests beside him. Her arms tightened around him as he tried to move out from underneath her to get up.
"Nooooo." She mumbled. "No running."
"Do you have a suggestion for alternate exercise?" He asked, raising one eyebrow. He watched as her blue eyes slowly opened, and her lips parted on a sleepy sigh.
"Mmmhmmm...Maybe." She blinked a couple of times to orient herself, then her eyes met his and he found himself drowning in an ocean of blue.
He could take that hint. Any day of the week. He shifted over top of her and set about creating their own exercise regime. One he had to admit was much more pleasurable than running. And, he was pleased to see, no audience was present for this encounter.
They lay together for a while afterwards, Steph dozing in his arms, before his alarm went off. He shifted to turn it off, then gently moved out from underneath his Babe. Thank God it was just a dream, he thought. Steph murmured a protest and reached for him. He kissed her gently, then trailed light kisses along her jaw to the base of her ear. "Gotta go, Babe. I've a busy day."
"Mmm. Kay."
"My parents expect me for dinner, tonight. Will you come?"
He watched as Stephanie slitted one eye open. She looked at him for a moment, before giving a slight nod and closing the eye. "Yeah. Oh. And I have something for you. For your birthday." She breathed as she fell back asleep. He watched her for a moment, before heading into the shower.
He was running late, so the shower was quick. Leaving his towel in the bathroom to save a trip back, he walked naked across the room, glancing at his Babe as she slept sprawled across his bed. He opened his closet, intent on selecting his usual uniform of black. What he saw as he opened the door, however, made his heart stop and his blood turn to ice.
Hanging in the middle of his otherwise empty closet, was a solitary pair of fluorescent orange board shorts, with bright yellow sunflowers.