Hey all, A Lone Howl here. This is just a little Ranger x OC story I've been sitting on for a while. I'm thinking about a Babe story next. This takes place after EOT.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich and St. Martin's Press. The idea behind the fanfic is mine though, so please don't plagiarize. "Woman from Tokyo" also belongs to Deep Purple.
So here we go!
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Ranger knocked back the last of his scotch and threw his shot glass at the wall. The glass shattered into a star-shape of the wall and then fell to the ground. It rang as it hit the ground, resting on another broken glass. Ranger's head had a slight buzz to it, making him cap the bottle to put it away.
His hair was unkempt, falling to his shoulders in a tousled wave. The dark circles under his eyes were purple and swollen. The room was dark; Ranger's half-lidded eyes made it even darker to the lone man in the room. He wore all black: black cargo pants, black boots, and a black shirt, and they were all wrinkled.
Images flashed through Ranger's head. He uncorked the scotch bottle, but they came before he even had a chance for a sip. He groaned as he saw Stephanie in a beautiful white dress. Even though the event was yesterday, it felt like a life-time ago for Ranger.
It was an outdoor affair, and it was pretty. Her mother and grandmother sobbed in joy while her father remained impassive. He gave his daughter a slight smile when he gave her away, but that was it. Ranger had remained in the shadows, but his Babe had found and caught his brown eyes. She gave him a weak smile, a hopeful smile, and Ranger had left. He watched again in the shadows as Joe Morelli and Stephanie Plum Morelli had their first dance. He was struggling to keep control, but he was weeping inside for his Babe was no longer his.
Mr. Plum had found him there, in his battle for control. Ranger politely shook his hand and commented on how happy he was for the couple. "She loved you." Ranger took a mental step back.
"Sir, I don't know about that-"
"She just didn't think you loved her back." Mr. Plum shook his head. "Then we'd have a son and law that would let her fly instead of keeping her in a cage." Ranger tried to protest, but Mr. Plum only walked away. He looked at Steph for a while; saw her smile into Joe's face with such happiness. Mr. Plum was wrong. He left, never saying a word to her.
Before Ranger could drink from the bottle to forget again, the door broke open. Ranger looked languidly in the direction on the door. Tank stood there, angry, ready to hurt some one. "Ranger, we have a lead-"
"No." Ranger was defiant. He was going to forget this, even if he had to kill his liver in order to do so.
Tank huffed, "We have a lead on The Family." The man with the bulging muscles was insistent. His eyes kept flashing to the door. "This may be the only chance we get!"
Ranger opened his mouth and then closed it. He thought about going, and then thought about drinking. Finally he heaved himself off the couch, nodding to Tank. "I'll be ready in a few. Just us." Tank nodded and rushed down stairs to get the car started.
In five minutes they were in the Turbo, heading down the packed streets of Trenton. The air was a light blue-gray, and the pollen count was high. In places were there were yards, flowering trees bloomed. Tank made turn after turn, heading into rougher parts of the city with Ranger, no one saying a word. Finally Tank pulled the car over. The two men in black could not believe what they saw.
"Merrily, merrily, see how I sing." The haunting melody came out of a girl that looked to be just over twenty. She had flat, honey-colored blonde hair and light blue eyes. Eyes that matched the color of the sky above her. She had a long-sleeve shirt on that was a size too big, and blue jeans that were noticeably too loose. Holding up the pants was a gun belt. She had a pair of skater shoes on and they made her feet fall flat on the pavement with a thunk. She looked utterly German-American normal, but a few things set that off kilter. Tattooed to the left side of her face were three tears. Two were black, on was red and larger than the other too. She held Uzis in her hands, and she was dancing. There were five bodies around her, all with gun wounds.
"Merrily, merrily, see how I kill." She smiled softly and the gang member against the wall. "Do you like my song?" She had a crazed, drug worn expression to her eyes. She laughed. "Merrily, merrily, see how I dance!" She laughed as she spun around three times before aiming the Uzis at the man and shot him. She smiled again, and then took on a look of concentration. Ranger and Tank got out of the car to hear her tallying something. "-48 gang members, so that makes a total of 162 kills!" Ranger and Tank exchanged looks. They slammed the doors of the car and she twirled around.
She skipped toward Ranger, a distinct extra-looseness to her stride. Her eyes glinted brightly. She stood a foot away from Ranger; her half-lidded eyes explored Ranger's body. "You're handsome." She stepped away. "Mother would disagree, Mother always disagrees." Tank looked at her. The way she said Mother, with such hatred and awe made him think. Was this the same Family?
"Does The Family disagree too?"
She laughed. "No, no! They're afraid of me too. They just nod and smile. Nod and smile…" Her voice took on a lilting quality. Ranger looked her over. She looked drugged, probably a narcotic.
"You want to take me," said the girl to the two men. She was smart, sharp even, in this drug haze. She saw the way they exchanged glances with se mentioned The Family and Mother. "You should take me. I'm dangerous!" She laughed again waving her Uzis in the air, firing of a round. It was then Ranger saw the word "Fool" tattooed onto her trigger finger of her left hand.
Ranger stole a glance at Tank. She would be of valuable assistance in finding The Family. If her outrageous claims were true, she could lead them not only to their man, but the queen bee of the operation. He debated only for a moment before nodding. Tank sent him a questioning look, but he ignored it. She laughed, put away her guns, and then clapped. She pranced to the truck and hopped into the back seat.
When they arrived at the Rangeman offices, she was dead asleep. The expression on the girl's face was sad and lost. Ranger lifted her up and carried her to his apartment.
She awoke much later. The smooth sheets under her tickled the skin left exposed. She was in a worn black tee shirt and silk black boxers. Her head felt soft and there was a distinct pounding to it. It sounded like the base line to "Woman from Tokyo" by Deep Purple. She took stock of her surroundings. She remembered the striking man that brought her into this bed and the bulky man that had talked quietly to him. They had questioned her briefly on The Family.
She saw the mocha-skinned man walk to her. He had a confidant stride, but something was throwing it off. "Where am I?" Her voice drifted. The high took a toll on her unless she was sleeping.
"You're in my apartment." His voice was low and seductive.
She rolled out of the bed. "I need clothes." He pointed to the bag by the closet and left. There was a pair of black cargos and a black v-neck shirt with the emblem "Rangeman." They had been made for someone a little taller than her. Her starved frame fit into the clothes, but made them too loose. Her bare toes poked out from under the pants. She walked into the adjoining bathroom. Her hair was a wreck; she doubted she could tame it at the moment. She found a hair tie on the sink and used it to tie her ragged blonde hair back, leaving her face-framing bangs out. So a woman lives here…The girl wondered what she looked like. She was probably drop-dead gorgeous. The blonde's face was splotchy and reddish. She frowned; she would need heavy duty foundation for that.
When she exited the bathroom, Ranger was sitting on the bed. She gave him a smile, and got his name. "What about yours?" The girl laughed.
"I am Blasa, number 945 of the 2nd tier. My code name is Katun." Her eyes were flat and she straightened out as she said this as if it was a mantra she repeated a thousand times each day. His eyebrows arched a fraction of an inch. She blinked. "I want Reeseseses." She noticed his lips twitch, as if he was thinking about laughing.
"You mean Reese's?"
"No. Reese's is singular. Reeseseses is plural." She nodded and her voice sounded commanding. His lips twitched again.
"I'll have Ella bring up some food." Ella, she thought, she must be that woman. Ranger walked over to a box by the door, presumably and intercom. Blasa looked around. It was a nice, plush, if not sparse, apartment. Nothing stood out, so she simply sat on the bed, stock still.
The opening of the door startled her and she jumped straight off of the bed. Ranger thought about laughing again as Ella walked in. Blasa frowned and blinked twice. She looked to be in her fifties and was small, yet robust. She wore black and had on bright red lipstick. The woman looked questioningly at the girl on Ranger's bed, but the man said nothing, so Ella left.
Blasa timidly sat at the table. She changed masks, emotions, and façades quickly, showing almost every emotion she felt. Ranger quirked his mouth, "That's my housekeeper."
Ella was his housekeeper. She felt thoroughly stupid after that and ducked her head for a moment. Ranger made a quite rumbling she took for a chortle. She automatically raised her head as haughtily as she could. There were waffles in front of her. Waffles with real maple syrup. "Waffles…" She looked longingly at them before quickly eating them. Ranger looked on in disbelief as the girl devoured two waffles in less than three minutes. She smiled contentedly.
"Eat them fast enough?"
She narrowed his eyes at the comment. "You never know when your food could be taken from you!"
"Not here. I like fruit."
"There could be a giant squirrel or something!" She waved her hands around for emphasis. He only looked at her. This would have been much easier if she was still filled with narcotics.
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You like so far? Don't worry; she won't be as silly as it goes on. She's going to develop quite well, I hope. R&R, if you please. Otherwise I'll get lazy again and never finish. . Any help on the piece's syntax would be, well, helpful!