This story is heavily inspired by Relient K's "When I Go Down" . It's one of my favourite songs and the story just came to me while I was listening to it in my car. Don't worry. It's has a happily ever after. Enjoy.

Usual disclaimers apply.

When I Go Down

The pain in my chest was almost unbearable; like all seven of Snow White's dwarves were in there hacking away at my heart in search of diamonds. They wouldn't find any of course, but by the time they realised there'll be nothing left of that vital organ than a pile of rubble marking the place where it used to be. I push the feeling into the recesses of my mind to be dealt with at any but right now, or in the immediate future. I couldn't process any of it right now, I just couldn't. There were important things to be done and none of them would be helped by dwelling on that hollow ache that had taken up almost permanent residence in my chest.

Taking a deep breath that would have been cleansing if it didn't hurt so much, I turned the car engine off and dropped my keys into my bag. I raised my eyes from the steering wheel to gaze upon the small building, remembering only when I reached the spot in my vision where it should have been that it was raining. The water gushed relentlessly down the windscreen, unhindered by the now motionless wipers. Perfect weather for the way I was feeling.

I swiped some extra waterproof mascara on my lashes to me through the day, swallowed what I felt was sure to be the biggest lump ever to form in a person's throat, and angled out of the car. Time to get to work. My umbrella wasn't doing a whole lot in shielding me from the pouring rain, but fighting to keep it from inverting itself gave me enough of a distraction that I was feeling okay about going inside. My hand reached out without thought to push open the glass door. It almost made me believe it was just another day.

The heat that engulfed my body the moment I entered the bonds office was like a warm hug. A much needed one at that. I dumped the protesting umbrella by the door, dropped my bag on the scarred leather couch and stood directly in front of the space heater. Vinnie's inner sanctum was closed off as usual. Connie was gabbing way into her desk phone while painting her nails a respectable shade of blood red. Lula was nowhere to be seen. I felt the familiar waves of loneliness begin to swell and crash over me and hunkered further down in my sodden jacket. All the thoughts I'd been suppress since the day before rushed me and almost took over again, but my cell rang distracting me.

"Mmm?" I greet. It's all I could manage.

"Babe, I just heard," Ranger's voice was coming through the phone loudly, clearly, sincerely. "Are you alright."

"Fine," I somehow say, but the word tastes foul in my mouth. I'm most certainly not fine. I wasn't up to talking about how not-fine I was though. Just thinking about it had the tears welling up behind my eyes; tears I would never let myself shed, not here, not now.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks. His words were filled with concern, I could tell, but all they did was send a lightning bolt of pain right through my heart. I didn't want people being concerned for me. I was fine. I was alive. I was living at least. Moving about, functioning... sort of...

"No," I gasped, sitting down exactly where I stood, ignoring the mud I had tracked in. "The last person I want to talk to right now is you." Just like that I was in an outrage as what he was offering and wishing I hadn't just sat down so that I could pace the room to work off some of my agitation. I didn't want to be angry at him. I didn't want to be angry at anyone. I wasn't specifically angry at anyone, I realised, I was angry in general. "I especially don't want to talk to you about this!" I snapped. "This is your fault!" Before he could utter another sound I had slammed the phone shut and flung it in the general direction of my bag.

An indignant yelp emitted from the couch where Lula now sat with a box of donuts and a dozen magazines on her lap. "Watch where you're channelling that anger to, missy. Some of us got important stuff they don't want pummelled by flying cell phones." She picked up the phone as it rang again and held it out to me with raised eyebrows. "It's batman." I shook my head numbly and she stopped smiling. "You know what happens when you don't answer batman's call, don't you?" I shook my head again and waited for her to fill me in as I know she would. "Well, I don't know for sure what happens, but my Tank has alluded to a not-so-happy ending to that kind of story. Why are your avoiding him?"

"He's a dick." I told her, not exactly sure where those words came tumbling out from, or why.

Is that a comparison to The Dick?" Connie enquired, hanging up from her own call.

A burble of laughter rose in my throat at the mere thought of comparing Batman to The Dick. Somewhere between my throat and my ears, however, the laughter turned into a heaving sob and the tears I promised would stay in check were running down my cheeks like little rivers. I was cold, despite the heater, and shivering because of it. Suddenly, I realised that both women were patting my back and rubbing my arms in a comforting manner. A great show of emotion was not a style either of them embraced, and normally I didn't either, but at that moment I knew that there was always an exception to the rule.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Connie demanded as gently as she could.

"Snogalive!" I sobbed into her shoulder. "Snogalive!"

"What the hell language is she talking?" Lula whispered over my head, I didn't care.

"Shh," Connie soothed. "Who's not going to live?"

It was different hearing the words from her. I know it was a question, but to my hysterical ears it sounded like she was confirming the very point I was dreading. I broke down again and wasn't even aware of anything else until I was curled on my bed in oversized flannel pyjamas staring at the blank wall in front of me. I sensed Lula and Connie's presences in the doorway, casting my worried glances as they conversed in hushed tones.

Connie and Lula had left not long after Mary-Lou arrived bearing hot soup and a caring and competent shoulder. She let me cry out whatever was left in me to cry, which was a surprising amount, considering how much I had cried the day before and at the office today. Then she forced me into a sitting position and bullied me into consuming most of the soup.

"Talk," she ordered. "What's going on? I took a deep breath and looked down at the duvet cover rather than look at her face. "Steph, you've never been like this. Ever. Something must have happened. Please tell me." I gave a small shake of the head, no. "Is there someone I can call?" she asked. Again, I did that small head movement that represented a negative answer. "We start playing twenty questions then?" I sat still for a moment, thinking, before lifting my gaze to meet hers. She sent me a reassuring smile and I nodded. She nodded her approval at my answer and was immediately in the kitchen. When she returned she held a pint of Ben and Jerry's and two spoons. As she handed me my spoon she began. "Is it to do with work?" I nodded and reached for the tub of ice cream but she held it out of my reach. "Is there a threat on your life?" she asked. I thought critically for a moment and shook my head again, trying to grab the tub again. Mary-Lou took a mouthful as I watched. "Is there a threat on somebody's life?"

There was no definite answer as of yet. "It's a definite possibility," I agreed. She finally handed me the tub to take a scoop.

"Who is it?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

"You're only supposed to ask question with a yes or no answer," I admonished.

"And you're only supposed to answer with a yes or no," she retorted, actually sticking out her tongue. I think she'd been spending too much time with her kids. "Screw this game; tell me what's going on."

I sighed. "You remember me telling you about Freddie Franks, my latest skip?"

Mary-Lou thought for a moment while sucking on her spoon. "The one you accidentally pants in the middle of the mall?"

A small smile played at the corners of my lips as I shook my head again. "No, the one I Lula open fired on then ran away and shoved her gun into my hands before he could realise that it was her."

She gulped. "Oh, that one."

"Yeah, that one. Well I was trailing him yesterday in the market and there was my dad right there in the aisle Freddie had just gone down. I knew Freddie had his gun in his hand at the time; he'd pulled it out as he rounded the corner. I yelled for dad to get out of the way. Stupid mistake. As soon as Freddie saw who I was warning he grabbed at the chance of a hostage." Tears were dribbling down my cheeks again as I stared at the blank wall again. The image was still vivid in my mind. "His arm was around Dad's neck and he was holding the gun to his head. We were the only ones in the aisle. I remember thinking how weird it was. 'You're daddy's coming with me,' Freddie whispered. 'And if you let anyone in the store know before we get to my car you can kiss him goodbye. Piece by piece.' He tightened his arm around Dad's neck and addressed him. 'You're going to walk out calmly and stand by the brown Honda civic patiently. Understand?' Dad nodded and Freddie put his gun away. I watched them go out the front door of the store, but couldn't make a move. My mind was drawing a complete blank as to what to do, or what had just happened.

"I blinked several times when another customer asked me to step aside so that she could get to the canned beans and went straight to the frozen desserts section. After paying for a stack of six cheesecakes and hauling them out to my car I ate three and a half and had come to the conclusion that I was not at all cut out for this job."

"Yes you are," Mare contradicted. "You're the best bounty hunter I've ever seen."

I scoffed at that remark. "You've never seen Ranger in action then. Or any of his men. Or even watched any of those bounty hunter TV shows. I suck. In fact, saying I suck is an over estimation. What's below 'suck' on the suck-o-meter?" I shoved a huge spoonful of ice cream into my mouth and then proceeded to talk around it. "How many times have I rolled in garbage? I bet the guys at the cop shop could tell me, hand me the phone, I'll call them right now and give you the answer to that question, and while I'm at it, I'll ask them how many vehicles I've exploded, and anything else they'd like to add. I want you to have an accurate picture of me before you judge my ability too much."

"None of that matters, Steph. What are you doing about your dad?"

I looked her in the eye and felt my own widen. "I don't think I've done anything! I'm the worst daughter ever!" I wailed. "I bet Valerie never did anything like this. Of course she didn't. She's perfect. I should have listened to my mother. I should have tried to be more like Val. My mother was always right; I don't know why I thought she wasn't right about that too. Have you ever gotten your dad kidnapped?" I asked her.

She stammered, "Uh... no... Steph, that doesn't matter, we need to find your dad."

"I knew you'd never gotten your dad kidnapped. Know how? You're a burg housewife. You're a burg mother. You're burg! Everything my mother is. Everything my sister is. Everything my mother wanted me to be. But no, I wanted to be Wonder Woman, fat lot of good that turned out to be. I bet Wonder Woman never got her father kidnapped either."

"I'm going to call Joe," she told me, getting up off the bed and leaving me alone in the room only long enough for her to grab the phone off the kitchen counter and come back to stand in the door way. I had a feeling I wasn't being trusted with my own life at the moment. I couldn't blame her. Look what had happened because of me. "He's on his way over," I was informed. "And he's getting all the men he can gather looking into where Freddie could have taken your dad and generally canvassing every neighbourhood they can cover."

Fifteen minutes later Morelli was standing in front of me, cop face firmly in place. I knew that look. It was the look that said I was disappointing him, but hey, why leave him out of the disappointment. I'd already disappointed everyone else. Mum. Dad. Val. My nieces. It was inevitable that he be disappointed in me as well. He sighed and shook his head after a few moments and turned to leave my bedroom.

"Joe, wait," I called. He stopped, but didn't turn back to face me. "I'm sorry," I told his back. That got him to turn around, but cop face was still plastered all over him. "You were right." He raised a silent eyebrow in question. "I should have listened to you," I went on. "You've been right since the beginning. I've never been able to do this job. It only ends up with me endangering everyone I've ever known. I should have listened to you when you told me to get a real job. I kept telling myself that our jobs weren't that different and that you being a hypocrite, but the important thing isn't how similar or different our jobs are, it's how competent we are at them. You've got all the training and qualifications to do your job. I've got a nose for business that isn't my own to prowl though, some basic techniques, a purse full of business cards and a barrel of luck that just ran out. I'm a screw up. I've been a screw up all my life."

"You're not a screw up," he assured me. "A risk taker? Yes. A girl with a lot of balls? Yes. A girl whose main aims in life seem to be making me worry and rolling is every pile of garbage in the state of New Jersey? Yes. But you have never been a screw up. You hear me? Never."

"But what about all the times I -," I started to protest, but Joe cut me off.

"Never."

"I promise I'll never do anything dangerous ever again," I assured him.

"We'll have to post pone that, Cupcake. You're gonna need to put yourself out there to save your father."

I stared at him in disbelief for a moment, not quite sure if I was dreaming. "How am I gonna do that?" I asked

"The same way you always do, Cupcake. You've gotta go out there and find your man. I've got as many men as the station can spare working on it as well. Whatever happens, we'll find him." Tears were leaking from eyes for the umpteenth time that day. Joe quickly wiped them away with his thumbs and pulled me into a standing position. He squeezed my hands briefly before hurrying to the other side of the room where my dresser was and started rifling through it. A blink of the eye later he was standing in front of me again shoving a pair of clean jeans, a long sleeved white v-neck t-shirt and a green flannel into my arms. "Get dressed and get out there." He turned to leave again, and again I called him back.

"I really am sorry," I insisted quietly. The lump in my throat made volume hard. "I know you worry a lot about me while I'm skip tracing and I realise now that it's not a great feeling. I don't want to ever put you through this again; as soon as we find my dad I'm giving Vinnie my two weeks' notice."

"Cupcake, you don't have to do that for me. Only do it if it's what you want. If bounty hunting is what you want to do then we'll get you all the training you need so that you can be good at it."

I shook my head. "No, it's time I hung up my Golden Lasso."

He smiled just a little and I realised that the cop face has disappears a few minutes ago. "Just because you're not Wonder Woman in the bounty hunting business doesn't mean you can't be Wonder Woman somewhere else." This time there was time to call him back again as he left, because he was gone a lot faster.

I got dressed quickly, grabbed my gun from the cookie jar, Freddie's file from the kitchen table and gunned it out of the parking lot through the drizzle that was what was left of that morning's rain torrents.

After almost half an hour of driving around aimlessly, I figured I should pull over to form a plan of attack. I stopped at the first fast food restaurant I came across and made my way inside, shielding the Freddie File from the rain with my jacket. Half way across the parking lot I stumbled and put my hands out to prevent falling flat on my face if I were to fall. The file fell to the ground at my feet, splashing down in the only puddle big enough to do any damage. Just my luck. I stood staring at it for several minutes, unsure whether the ten second rule applied to paper goods dropped in water. By the time I made up my mind that it didn't, the evidence totally supported my decision. It was reduced to nothing more than paper pulp, which I threw at the black SUV that drove through the puddle, spraying me with the same muddy, disgusting water that had ruined the file.

As I watched, the SUV stopped, reversed so that it was level with me and the driver's window rolled down. Ranger. Of course. I thought my luck was bad before.

"Babe, what did you just throw at my car?"

"The Freddie Franks file," I told him bluntly.

"Don't you still need that?"

"It's mushy pulp, there's no way it's going to do me any good now."

"What happened?" I could sense a hint of laughter deep down inside.

"I dropped in this puddle." I gestured to the puddle I stood before. "And then you drove through the very same puddle, which is why I look like this. At least I match the file. Thank you, by the way."

He shook his head and reached over to the passenger seat. "Here," she shoved a thick manila folder out the window at me. "Take this, it should help."

I took a step back so that I wasn't in reach. "No. I don't need your help," I snapped. "I'm giving up on bounty hunting just as soon as I find my dad." His lips twitched, causing me to remember the last time I'd quit bounty hunting. "I'm quitting for real this time and if old skips try to harm me, I'll take it to the police. I'm done. And I don't want to see you ever again."

Ranger blank mask was super glued in place by the time I'd finished. He chucked the file back onto the seat beside him and looked straight ahead as he told me, "It's not my fault. You took the job of your own accord. You came to me for guidance and then refused further training once you got the basics. Just barely, I might add. This is no one's fault but your own." No sooner had he finished his statement than the window was up and he was out of the lot.

He was right. I knew he was. I'd admitted as much to myself, and I think even Joe, under an hour ago. It sounded worse coming from him though. Every word sent another sharp needle of pain straight through my heart. I shouldn't have said the things I did. He was right. He had always been right. Just like my mother. But he'd believed in my ability. Just like Dad. I'd let them both down.

My knees gave way and I found myself sitting on the wet ground just inches from the ankle deep puddle. I had no idea what I thought I could achieve by coming out into the world again today. The police were on the case. There was nothing I could do that they couldn't, or hadn't already. I reached out and trailed my fingers over the surface of the murky water. It was an unconscious act, but seemed to sooth my mind a bit. Until my cell rang.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"How are you holding up, Cupcake?"

I looked all around my at the discarded burger wrappers, fries cartons and paper cups. I was probably sitting in mashed up burger right now and I didn't even know it. Another car sped past splashing more water over me. "I'm fine, I guess."

"Where are you? That car sounded really close." There was a hint of concern in his voice.

"I'm in the parking lot of the McDonalds on third," I told him. "I had to stop and regroup, but it's not getting me anywhere."

"We think we may have a lead," he informed me quickly, as if trying to cheer me up. "Does the name Geraldine Tippin mean anything to you?"

That would probably have been an easier question to answer if my Freddie File was a pile of mush a few yards away, but I thought hard about it for a moment and it finally came to me. "The girlfriend's sister?"

"That's the one. Have you spoken to her?"

"No," I replied, utterly perplexed. "There was no need. The girlfriend told me where Freddie usually hung out, I went there and Freddie was there. He got away that time and I saw him by chance yesterday when I went to get Hamster Crunchies for Rex."

"She owns a trailer park just outside of town. I've sent a couple of guys to check it out and I'm heading over there now to interrogate Geraldine myself."

"Be careful. Freddie has a gun."

I heard Joe chuckle a little and the sound warmed my soaked body just enough. "I know, Cupcake. I love you. Hang in there."

He hung up and I picked myself up off the ground, determined to get myself a coffee and a large fries. It wasn't quite on track to solving the situation, but it was a start. I at least had the determination to do something.

Back on the road twenty minutes later I realised I still had no clue what to do. I hadn't heard back from Joe, but that didn't mean a whole lot. He could be in the middle of interrogation. He would have called me back if he'd found Dad. I decided that I needed to go and take a look around the place myself. I don't know what I would be looking for, but that problem usually solved itself once I found something. Once I'd pulled to the side of the road I instinctively stretched my hand out to get the file off the passenger seat. That's when I remembered the carpark incident of twenty minutes earlier.

I sighed and my own clumsiness and dialled the bonds office. Connie picked up on the second ring sounding worried. "Steph! Are you alright?"

Rather than answer her questions and risk another break down, I cut right to the chase. "I need the address of the trailer park Geraldine Tippin owns," I told her.

The distinct sound of acrylic nails tapping on computer keys drifted through the phone as she did her job. I sat silently as I waited for the information and didn't even hold the line long enough to thank her once I got it. I was just about to turn onto the road that leads to the drive way of the trailer park when my cell rang. It was Joe again.

"We've found him," he said as soon as I picked up. I didn't even get a chance to say anything. "We've found your dad," he repeated. "He's being checked out by the EMT's as we speak. Hold on, I'll hand you to him."

I continued down the road as I listened to the muffled sounds on the other end of the line and had just turned into the driveway when I heard the voice I'd been wishing to hear for hours. It was clear and distinct compared to the buzzing that had filled my head. "Pumpkin?" All my breath gushed out at once and I had to stop the car.

"Dad," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. I've dropped the ball for the last time. I'm gonna quit my job and find something more stable and..."

"It's alright," he soothed. "I don't blame you. You were just doing your job. I got in the middle of things. These things happen." I started to protest, but he cut me off. "I don't want to hear excuses or apologies. Morelli is calling your mother on a uniform's cell and she'll be here quick as a flash. I need to hug you before she gets here. You know what your mother's like." He chuckled a little. "What car are you driving? I swear there's a powder blue Buick at the entrance to the park."

I could see the EMT truck from where I was sitting. The lights were flashing, but the siren wasn't blaring. I looked closer and saw a very familiar pair of eyes over the head of some guy that didn't matter. I dropped the phone and was out of the car running before I realised it. As I neared the knot of people they parted and I was given a straight path to my father, who was standing with open arms waiting for me. I ran into them without stopping and nearly knocked him down, but he caught his balance and steadied us both.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," I blubbered into his shoulder. "I'm so so so sorry. There are not enough words to tell you how sorry I am."

"It doesn't matter, Pumpkin. You're alright. I'm alright. What more could I ask for?"

"But my job put you in danger," I croaked, wiping my eyes and looking up into my father's gaze. "If it weren't for my you would have been at home, safe last night. If it weren't for me..."

"It doesn't matter," he repeated. "What's life for if not to live a little? I would have died sad man if I hadn't experienced some of the adventure of my daughter's life."

"There's not going to be any more adventure," I informed him. "I really am quitting."

"If that's what you want." I couldn't believe he was so mellow about all of this. He's lucky to be alive. Why wasn't he telling me off? "I love you," he stated. "Nothing will ever change that." I buried my face in his shoulder again and breathed in his recognizable scent mixed with sweat and dirt. I didn't care how many times he said it didn't matter; I was going to make it up to him one way or another. I turned my head to the side and kissed his cheek. "I love you too." As I turned my head to return it to the comfort of his shoulder I noticed a figure in my periphery that stood out against the crowd. I raised my head and Joes eyes locked on mine instantaneously. He was smiling a smile that was meant only for me...

THE END


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