Standard fanfic disclaimers apply.
a/n: This is a Merc Ranger story, very early on in his relationship with Steph. She is not w/ Morelli and just starting to dare to flirt with Ranger, just a little. Maybe around: JE book 5? or 11? My previous stories, The Price is Right,The Math Teacher and my one-shot alternative end to JE 16 take place AFTER this story in my Plum world but you can read them if you find the people and relationships confusing. [or not.]
Babe. Morelli is here, not happy but unharmed.
A/N:
Intro: from Ten Big Ones [edited]: Ranger was in S.W.A.T. black cargo pants and T-shirt. His hair was dark, and his eyes were dark, and his skin reflected his Cuban ancestry. No one knew Ranger's age... no one knew where Ranger lived or where his cars and cash originated. Probably it was best not to know.
Ranger locked eyes with me. Sometimes it felt like Ranger could look you in the eye and know all the stuff that was inside your head. It saved a lot of time since talk wasn't necessary.
"Babe," Ranger said. And he left.
"Cupcake, the guy's a mercenary."
The beginning in italics is from Chapter 2 of Sizzling Sixteen, with some editing and a line or 2 from Ch 1. I'm a sucker for a Ranger moment!
enjoy
The Concert Chapter One
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[from Sizzling Sixteen, excerpt/ Ch 2.+ some Ch 1. edited.]
I took the elevator to the control room and walked past the cubbies and consoles, waving to men I knew.
Ranger's office was a few steps down the hall. He was on the computer when I walked in, and he smiled when he saw me. A big thing for Ranger, since he doesn't do a lot of smiling. He's former Special Forces, is drop dead handsome in a dark Latino kind of way, and is sex walking.
He was dressed in Rangeman black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black running shoes. Everyone in the building was dressed exactly like this, but Ranger's clothes fit him better. Possibly because Ranger was clearly at the front of the line when God was handing out the good body parts. You could dress Ranger in a black plastic garbage bag, and he'd still look hot.
... ... ...
I shook off my hot flash, checked my face for drool, and said, "Knock-knock."
"Is this a joke?"
I blew out a sigh and sat down in one of his luxurious guest chairs. "No. I have a line on a skip and I want to run the scenario by you before I go ahead with the pick-up."
A very brief hint of amazement flashed across his face."Okay."
"Um. You're doing event security for the Juniak campaign rally and concert, right?"
"Yes, it's a Rangeman contract."
"And ah, well, lotta big stars there, huh?"
"Yeah. Jersey-type stars anyway...Springsteen, John Bon Jovi. Rangeman isn't providing personal security to the bands, just to Joe Juniak and the event as a whole. We're working with TPD and Jersey State Troopers too."
He looked sort of interested in the idea of the concert which was to raise campaign funds for Trenton Mayor Joe Juniak, a fifth cousin twice removed of mine, who was running for the US Senate.
"You and Juniak are friends, right?"
"Yeah, we're friendly..." I noted the differentiation. "...but this is strictly business. I can't donate Rangeman services to this or that politician, it could come back and bite me in the ass someday...babe? Steph?"
I shook off my fantasy of biting that perfect ass and focused.
"Well, here's the thing. I have a skip who is going to be performing at the concert. I know he'll be there and I want to pick him up there. But I don't want to cause trouble for you."
"It wouldn't be the first time you've caused me trouble, babe."
I decided to ignore that. "So...?"
"I'll be working the event; I plan to go in undercover, not in uniform...mingle, watch for hot spots and so on. I probably can give you some back up."
"Thanks! Um, you're going to a concert—undercover?"
"Yeah, just a regular guy."
I tried not to smirk. "How does that usually work out for you, Ranger?"
He played dumb, said, "Works okay, babe. I've been running black jobs since I was a kid, no one ever recognizes me."
Oh please. "In, like, Iraq? South America? Afghanistan?"
"...Steph, it's classified—"
I held up a hand to shut him up. I know his entire life is top secret. I'm an idiot, not a dolt. I said, "Wherever. Ranger, those places are not Jersey! And they're not arenas full of screaming groupies."
He actually hesitated, as if he was running ops through the Rolodex of his brain, remembering. Finally he said, "And?"
"And you'll cause a riot. Maybe you should work backstage."
"I can't work backstage. Most of the performers know me."
I stared at him.
"What? It's my job," said Ranger.
Carefully I said, "Maybe your undercover career is over, at least in Jersey?"
"I'll wear a baseball hat and sunglasses and take Tank."
I smiled at him. "Oh yeah that'll really help."
?
"Not," I added, still smiling at him.
Ranger may have a great blank face but his eyes can say Let's not go there with a look that chills even me. He said, "Stephanie. Who is the skip?"
Like I wouldn't notice the subject change?
I shrugged, said, "You remember Sally Sweet?"
"How could I forget? He mowed down twenty Slayers to save your pretty white ass."
Huh. "So Sally got arrested yet again for drugs and public profanity."
"I'm surprised you'd take the file."
"Someone has to, he's failed to appear on a $500,000 federal bond. Vinnie's one step away from a coronary."
Ranger raised his eyebrows."High bond."
"Poor Sally, feds arrested him at the airport in Newark. But it's really just a slap on the wrist, no jail time if he gets to court like he's supposed to. But he doesn't want to mess up his current gig with this new band. He says they're awesome, they mix punk and heavy metal with hip-hop."
"Multiculturalism rules."
"So he's a sideline for them."
"Sideline?"
"Yeah, he plays bass, sings backup. Um, dances?"
Ranger maintained his carefully blank face. "I think you mean a sideman."
"Oh yeah. Sideline/ sideman...silly me. Soooo...if you don't get trampled by hormonally frenzied teenyboppers, can you help me bring him in after the set?"
"Thin ice, babe."
Ranger doesn't like having his looks pointed out, let alone dwelled upon. But I needed him in one hot hunky piece for the takedown. Sally was a good friend and I owed him bigtime. I was hoping that faced with Ranger he'd do like all the other cretins and felons...he'd stick out his wrists and beg for the cuffs. Not too many people want to tangle with Ranger.
I blew out a sigh and said, "If you get me a backstage pass, we can meet up at the end of the band's set, grab Sally as he comes off stage. Okay?"
"Yes. I'll have a press pass with backstage access to you by tomorrow. Steph—this may seem strange but I have to ask you to come unarmed. As security coordinator I cannot allow anyone armed into the venue."
As if! I stared at him.
He relaxed back in his big, comfy boss's chair and said, "Oh yeah, nevermind."
I got up and feeling daring I walked around the desk and gave him a little hug, said, "Thanks again. See you Thursday night!"
I stepped away before he could hug me back or God forbid (yeah, yeah) kiss me. Instead he grabbed my hand, "What's the name of Sweet's band? I haven't seen the entire list yet."
"Exit Wound. The band is called Exit Wound."
Silence. Ranger's blank face graphically conveyed eeewww . Then we both cracked up laughing. I gave a him little finger wave and sashayed out to the elevators. The guys in the comm room watched me, awestruck.
Stephanie Plum makes the boss - laugh.
tbc