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Thank you Carmen and Beth for your wonderful Beta-ing and encouragement :)
Winging It
By: Cheri
It was raining. Not just any rain either, monsoon rain. It was the kind that made walking outside, an under the sea type of experience. Considering the pollutants in the Jersey air dancing crabs weren't entirely out of the question. Sensible people were staying in tonight and watching the Back to the Future marathon on Channel 13. I, of course, am not a sensible person. My name is Stephanie Plum, bumbling bounty hunter extraordinaire. Cool job you might think, glamorous even. You would be sadly mistaken. Don't get me wrong; I love my job…most of the time. Just not when I'm covered in garbage, or when my cars get blown up. And of course, topping the list at the moment, when I'm hiding in a prickly hedge in the middle of a cold wet April night waiting for my skip to pass out drunk so I can drag his belligerent ass back to the pokey without getting shot at, insulted, or covered in food product. My skip weighed about 300 pounds and was an unrepentant alcoholic. This could take a while.
At least it gave me time to think. Sometimes it seems like all I've been doing lately is thinking. It started about six months ago with a wake up call from the most unlikely of sources, namely my grandmother. I'm sure stranger things have happened, but at the moment I can't think of any. Anyway, I've come up with several conclusions. The first I've already acted on, namely the inescapable truth that my on-again-off-again relationship with vice cop Joe Morelli was going nowhere. I could never be what he needed and he could never accept me for who I am. I finally broke up with him for good. It's probably the most mature decision I've ever made. Unfortunately, he didn't take it seriously. Every time I've seen him since, he's either tried to restart the old arguments or entice me back into his bed. After over two years of staving off the temptation of Cuban Sex God pheromones, I'm finding him disturbingly easy to resist.
This brings me to my second conclusion. I want Ranger.
OK, that might seem like a no-brainer. Every woman wants Ranger, at least all the breathing ones. Maybe non-breathers too, wouldn't surprise me. The man is beyond hot. He's like the Latino Batman. Also, I happen to be in love with him. I've known for a while, ever since that whole Scrog mess. I even know he loves me too. Why aren't we together you might ask? Well, it's complicated. Until recently I was still playing out my adolescent fantasy with Morelli. I would have given that up a long time ago had Ranger not repeatedly sent me back to him with trite little phrases like "my life doesn't lend itself to relationships" and "my love doesn't come with a ring". I've come to the conclusion that we're both relationship retarded and the only way for us to come to terms is for one of us to take the initiative. How sad that it has to be me, the queen of denial. I even, rather uncharacteristically, have a plan. I'm going to take what Ranger's been not so subtly offering, basically, love, acceptance, mind melting passion, and support without price...and just not clue him in to the fact that we're in a relationship. He's a smart man; he'll figure it out eventually despite his chromosomal deficiency. Now if only Ranger would get back from wherever he is. Probably liberating a third world country. Aside from being eager to jump start my plan, I miss him.
In the spirit of living life on my terms and preferably not get myself killed in the process, I decided to let the Tank teach me a few self defense moves. Nothing fancy, I didn't turn into a Kung Fu master and I still don't like my gun, just a couple tricks for getting out of sticky situations so I didn't always have to be rescued. The whole damsel in distress thing gets a little old after a while. Tank was happy to teach me, since he and Lula have been together we've actually become friends. He's actually a decent conversationalist once he decides he likes you. Lula's a lucky woman. Their relationship took off faster then anyone could've predicted, three months ago she moved into his apartment at Rangeman, in two weeks they're getting married. She asked me to be her Maid of Honor. We blubbered and cried until Vinnie came out of his office to complain about the noise. Ranger is supposed to stand up with Tank. I asked what would happen if Ranger didn't get back in time, Tank said not to worry and wouldn't answer further questions on the topic. Sometimes I think the Merry Men keep secrets just for the fun of it.
Lula still works at Plum Bail Bonds, ostensibly filing but mostly gossiping. She seemed a little offended when Connie asked if she was quitting after the wedding. Apparently Lula was about as keen on being someone's housewife as I was; which is to say not at all. For once Vinnie kept his mouth shut. Actually, he's been nice to Lula ever since she and Tank got together. Vinnie is a lot of things, slimy and excessively fond of water fowl come immediately to mind, but he isn't entirely stupid.
Unlike me apparently. As my Grandpa Plum used to say, even dogs have enough sense to come in out of the rain. Did I already mention the rain? Yeah well it's a lot of rain, and me without a jacket. My mom would be so proud.
Sarcasm aside, Ranger would actually be kind of proud. Well, he'd probably shake his head about the whole jacket thing but, more important to him, I was carrying my gun AND it was loaded. Seriously. And I brought backup. Sort of. Lula was paranoid about catching pneumonia so close to the wedding so she decided to wait in the car parked a couple houses down. But she was with me in spirit anyway, and well, if anything went really wrong, she could always run over the bad guys with the Buick. Big Blue's good for that sort of thing.
My skip was one Mr. Harold I-swear-to-god-this-is-his-real-name-I-checked-twice Skank. His friends call him Harry. Snicker. At least that's how Connie introduced him when she handed me the file. He was wanted for soliciting a prostitute and assaulting a police officer. Normally a bond this high would go to Rangeman but, since Ranger's been out of town for a while, Vinnie decided to give it to me rather than pay the higher Rangeman rate. Unfortunately, due to a once in a lifetime shoe sale at Macy's last month, my debt was at an all time high, as was the mountain of FMP's spilling out of my closet. The shoes give me a warm tingling feeling, the debt not so much. So, I let my duck-loving relative threaten me into taking the file against my better judgment. This leads me to my current soggy predicament. But damn those knee high leather and satin boots were worth it.
A car pulled up while I fantasized about my shoe collection. Two dark figures slid out, men, judging by their size. Further detail was impossible to distinguish through the rain; it chose that moment to kick the deluge factor up another notch. Something about them set off my spidey sense. They let themselves in without bothering to knock. I palmed my cell phone just in case.
No lights came on to mark their progress through the house. Suddenly they were in the dimly lit living room, still unidentifiable due to bad lighting and worse weather. Oddly, my skip was still clearly visible. He greeted them with cringing subservience, chattering with apparent nervousness as he moved the room's meager furnishings out from the center of the floor. He rolled back the ratty area rug to reveal a strange circular marking burned into the much-abused old wood floor. I stood behind my trusty tree friend to get a better view, but could only make out a vague circular shape with squiggles all around it. I suddenly felt cold to my core. Don't ask me how a chunk of circle can look obscenely wrong, but this really did. Harold stepped into the circle. Instantly the room filled with billowing red-tinged smoke.
I watched the room silently for I don't know how long, trying to figure out what to do, if anything. Fire doesn't generally give off red smoke and besides there didn't seem to be any flames or panicked people. Maybe they were practicing a magic act or something. Perfectly plausible if you ignored my screaming instincts. My indecision was resolved for me when a different sort of scream tore through my consciousness, this one coming from the house. I made it about two steps before tripping on an unseen object, smacking my forehead on the edge of the concrete porch. Stars danced before my eyes. I really need to stop leading with my head.
The smoke was mostly cleared by the time I reached the sliding glass doors. The recently arrived car backed out at a surprisingly sedate pace, all things considered. The rain let up just as they passed my former hiding place, allowing me a brief glimpse of the driver before they drove out of sight. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with pale skin stretched over strangely reptilian features, accentuated by his shaved head and cold dead eyes. Eyes that were looking right back at me. Shit.
Time slowed as they passed. Or maybe it was just the car slowing, hard to tell. Once they were finally gone, I turned back to the now clear room. Instinctively my hand flew up to cover my mouth, like a starlet in a low budget horror film right before she screamed bloody murder. I was more likely to throw up. I fell gracelessly into a nearby lawn chair and hit #1 on my speed dial, in my stupor forgetting his "in the wind" status. It went directly to voicemail. Still without thinking, I said the only four words my mind could latch onto in its current state.
"Ranger…I need you."
Somehow leaving that message centered me enough to remember the number for 9-1-1.
Twenty minutes later the quiet residential street was alive with police, EMTs, and nosy pajama clad neighbors. Flashing blue lights gave the scene a sadly familiar nightmare quality. In the middle of the chaos, I sat on the tailgate of a spare ambulance (since the Slayer incident they always send at least three ambulances when my name's attached to an emergency), wrapped tight in a musty smelling blanket and sipping occasionally from a thoughtfully provided hot chocolate. Eddie, a good cop inexplicably married to my cousin, Shirley the Whiner, sat beside me patiently taking down my statement. He was a good friend, going above and beyond the call of duty by not only bringing the hot chocolate but also refraining from mentioning the bet results changing hands in my periphery vision. I was just getting to the part where the mysterious men saw me when everyone went silent. I refused to look up, instead focusing on a divot in the tar by my feet.
"So they casually backed out of the driveway, like they hadn't just left a house full of funky red smoke…" I trailed off as familiar ratty sneakers stepped into my field of vision, standing on my fascinating divot.
"I suppose you have a good explanation for all this?" The wearer of the sneakers asked angrily. Apparently Morelli was not in one of his better moods. Big shock there.
Eddie looked at me uneasily. "She's in the middle of her statement…"
"She can finish it later."
I cut off further objections with my hand on his arm. "It's okay Eddie; I might as well get this over with. Besides, that's pretty much it. I looked in the glass doors and saw..." I made a vague gesture to the swarm of crime scene people. Eddie nodded in understanding. Some things don't really need to be put into words. He gave Morelli a menacing look as he left us in semi privacy, stopping just out of normal conversational hearing distance but close enough to butt in should it regress to the usual shouting match.
I decided to wait Joe out. Obviously he had something to say and wouldn't leave until he said it. I really wanted to keep the scene to a minimum. My mother still wasn't speaking to me from the last public confrontation. The silence was oppressive as I continued to stare at those sneakers and tried to ignore the death glare attempting to burn a hole through the top of my head.
Joe Morelli, otherwise known as Supercop and the best ass in Trenton, seemed to be a wee bit pissed off. I tend to have that effect on him. When we were kids, he represented the forbidden fruit, the boy my Mom absolutely forbid me to talk to. As teenagers, he literally charmed the panties off me behind the Canolli cooler at the Tasty Pastry. I think I hit him with the Buick more as a form of literary criticism for the bad poetry he wrote about me in the boy's room at Mario's Sub Shop then revenge for my lost virginity.
Somehow despite all the history, or more likely because of it, we started dating a few years ago after I cleared his name when he was FTA. We couldn't stay together for more than a couple months at a time without having a messy public breakup. The Burg loved it. As a friend pointed out not too long ago, it was an unhealthy pattern. Due partly to his advice, partly to a recurring nightmare involving a diaper clad Morelli and a minivan, and mostly to sage advice from my Grandmother of all people, I finally broke up with him for good six months ago. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be sharing in my epiphany. After the first couple months of blessed silence, during which I went through my full "getting over him" routine, sadly down to a science due to my always-tragic love life, he started hinting that it was time to kiss and make up. At first I was nice about it, calmly explaining that it really was over, that we just weren't good for each other, but we could still be friends. Yada, Yada. He took that to mean "try again next week". I tried to be patient but yeah, really not my strong suit. A few weeks ago we ran into each other at Pino's and had the mother of all public fights, ending with him accusing me of whoring myself to Manoso and me dumping beer on his head and stomping out. My mother has been ironing ever since.
"How do you always end up in the middle of this shit?" Of all the obnoxious...I channeled my inner Ranger and just managed to keep my cool. Someone had to be the adult. I made the mistake of looking at his face and sighed at the tell tale vein throbbing in his temple.
"It's not my fault. I was doing my job." At his snort I couldn't help but add, "Not that it's actually any of your business. I believe Eddie's on this case."
"Damn it Cupcake of course it's my business! How are we ever going to start a family if you get yourself killed in one of these asinine stunts?"
I stared at him for a silent count to ten.
"Joe…" I started in the tone of one speaking to the mentally deficient, "We are broken up. We are never going to 'start a family'. Accept it and move on."
More veins became apparent and a rather unhealthy red stained his tightly controlled features. "You weren't like this before HE started sniffing around."
I sighed again, the shocks of the night and repeated conflicts with Joe were really wearing me out. The 'he' Joe referred to was Ranger, my friend, mentor, and every woman's fantasy. I never cheated, but we did have one perfect night together during an off again phase. It was the best night of my life. I hoped for a repeat in the near future. Not that Joe needed to know that. Ranger was undeniably a factor in the breakup but really, my feelings for him would never have been an issue if there wasn't something fundamentally missing from my relationship with Joe. Six months of no social life gives a girl a lot of time for reflection. "No Joe, this isn't about him, it's not about anyone except you and me. Mostly, it's just about me."
"Don't lie to me! I've seen the way you look at each other when you think I'm not paying attention. Did you think I didn't notice that you always run to him when you get in over your head and help him regardless of your own safety? I know where you stayed when the Slayers were after you and EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT THE GOD DAMNED ALLEY BEHIND VINNIE'S OFFICE!" My ears filled with a sound like the ocean as the blood rushed from my face. I don't know why I was so shocked really, it's not like any of that was a secret. I guess I assumed no one noticed. Sometimes I surprise even me with my super hero-esque denial powers. While I perfected my landed goldfish impersonation, he took deep breaths until his color faded from 'heart attack purple' to merely 'extremely pissed red'. Eddie swept in before I could recover enough to respond.
"Okay kids break it up. Steph I think you can go home now, we can finish your statement in the morning." So saying, he put an arm around my shoulders and guided me through the gathered crowd to Big Blue. Lula wasn't there, probably got Tank to pick her up when the cops showed. Despite starting a new life, cops still made her edgy. Most of the people we passed were already on cell phones relaying the latest episode in the life of Stephanie Plum. I should get my own reality TV show, Steph the Bounty Hunter. Wait, I think it's been done, except with mullets instead of Jersey hair.
"Thanks Eddie."
"No problem, just remember this next time we need a babysitter." With these parting words, he winked and disappeared into the crowd.
Much later that night, I was sprawled in my usual sleeping position just on the cusp of sleep when I felt it, the change in the air that heralded an oncoming storm. I knew from experience that this particular storm brought passion and heat instead of wind and rain. The man in black had arrived. He stood silent, invisible in the shadows, like he so often did, a dark guardian watching over my slumber. Tonight was different though, his barely contained passion set the air on fire. He was here to make good on his promise. God I've waited so long. I kept my eyes closed savoring the anticipation. As I felt him draw closer those words I usually had such a hard time saying fell naturally from my lips.
"I love you…"
And suddenly my eyes were open, staring out into my dark bedroom, my declaration hanging in the air mocking me. God freaking damn it. Every single night for the last six months, ever since he left town just after the Scrog incident, I had the same dream. Whoever said 'out of sight out of mind' obviously never met Ranger. He really did ruin me for all other men the rat bastard. My life sucks.
"Babe?"
"Gaaah! What the…Ranger? Jesus you scared the shit out of me!" I held one hand to my chest, trying in vain to keep my wildly beating heart inside it.
"Got to be more aware of you surroundings Babe." I could feel him almost smile in the dark.
"I was SLEEPING!"
"You were talking."
My eyes just about bugged out of my head. Oh my God what did he hear? Okay, time to play it cool.
"Um, what was I saying?" I asked with only a slight squeak in my voice.
He didn't answer but I could just make out his white teeth grinning in the dark. It reminded me of a Cheshire Cat.
"I have often seen Ranger without a grin. But a grin without a Ranger! It's the most curious thing I ever saw in all my life."i
I didn't realize I had said it out loud until I heard his surprised laugh.
"Only You Babe" Before I could decide how to take that he continued. "I got your message."
Right, the whole witnessing a murder thing. I sighed, way too tired to go back over it tonight. Or rather this morning, I corrected myself as I caught my clock's digital readout in the corner of my eye. Ugh, 4:37, no wonder I was quoting Lewis Carroll. I didn't get back to my apartment until after 1. Something nagged at the back of my brain, something I really needed to tell Ranger, but, with the brief burst of adrenalin wearing off, I couldn't put my finger on it.
Instead of answering his unspoken question I asked, "When's the last time you slept?"
His silence was eloquent, his slouched posture even more so. I rolled my eyes and patted the bed beside me.
"We can go over it in the morning…well the later morning." I paused and in a softer voice finished. "Come to bed Ranger, we both could use a good nights sleep."
He froze for just a moment before crossing the room and sitting on his side of the bed. Yes, I still thought of it as his side of the bed even though we'd only slept together a handful of times. He removed his boots, belt, and weapons with typical efficiency. I might have drooled a touch when he pulled his painted on black t-shirt over his head man style, while revealing mocha latte muscles gilded by moonlight. I held my breath, hoping he would remove his last article of clothing but, sadly, he kept his pants on. Oh well, it'll be fun taking them off him later anyway. He got into bed and wrapped himself around me, settling us into our normal sleeping position. No relationship my ass.
Then he kissed me, driving the caustic thoughts right out of my head. It was a light kiss, affectionate with an edge of banked passion. It really shouldn't have touched my heart. But it did. He pulled back with a questioning look and brushed his thumb over my cheek. It came back wet. Apparently I was crying.
"Babe?"
I shook my head as I brought my tears under control. "Sorry 'bout that. Um, it's been a long day." This was the truth, well, part of the truth. He was still giving me the concerned and demanding answers look. I tucked my head under his chin; I was feeling a little vulnerable.
"I missed you okay? Geez. It's like the ESP Spanish Inquisition." I muttered peevishly. I'm not very good at the whole 'talking about my emotions' thing, makes me cranky. His chest shook under my cheek. He better be crying…no wait, scratch that, I couldn't deal with Batman crying. Too Twilight Zone. Maybe a seizure…oh hell who was I kidding. At least my place in his budget's secure.
"Only you Babe, only you." I sighed and settled in. My pillow was back to its usual steady movement, lulling me back to sleep. Just as I drifted off he spoke again. "I missed you too Babe."
I smiled and succumbed to sleep, content.
i Paraphrased from Alice in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, said by Alice to the Cheshire Cat