A/N: Continuing my theme of giving H/Ellen Plum her 'just desserts'– This story is a big-ass slab of Pineapple Upside-down-In Your Face-Cake, smothered in whipped cream with a cherry on top.

xx not my characters, not making any money xx

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Courting With Disaster

'The Misadventures of Grandma Mazur with Stephanie along for the ride of her life'

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Courting With Disaster

'Being a tree in the forest'

Chapter One

"Just calm down. I can't understand a word you're saying." The sound of blubbering was mixed with incoherent gibberish.

"Mom." More blubbering.

"MOM!" I tried louder. "You're not making any sense. Is everyone okay?" Pause. "Is it Dad?" Blubbering continued.

"Is it Grandma?" Ear-splitting shrieks were accompanied by grievous wailing.

'BINGO!' I thought to myself. Now just what did Grandma get herself into this time?

Since I wasn't having much luck getting information out of my mom, I changed tactics. "Is Dad home? Can I talk to him?" Blubber, blubber.

I sighed. "Do you want me to come over now?" I heard more ear-splitting shrieks followed by gut-wrenching, mournful howling that would have put a dying moose to shame.

"I'll be right there." I snapped my phone shut and made a u-turn in my car, heading back towards the nearest Tasty Pastry drive-thru. There was no way in hell I was going into a war zone without proper reinforcements. Ranger taught me well, although I'm sure that a dozen Boston Cream donuts were never part of his personal arsenal. That man needed to loosen up a little and stop being such a hard-ass. Hard. Ass. Drool. Nipples, registered lethal weapons. Eyes drifted shut. HORNS BLARING!

"Shit," I swore as I swerved the car out of on-coming traffic and back into my own lane.

I drove up to my parent's house, stuffing the last bite of my first donut into my mouth. What?? Geesh, okay, okay... it was my third. Happy? I got out of my car and approached Ed Farmbeck who was standing in the middle of my parent's lawn. Ed was the local sleazeball real estate agent who everyone in the Burg used. He was bathtub scum and no one liked him but he only charged 3 commission to everyone else's 6. It would have been easier to part the Red Sea than to get someone from the Burg part with an extra 3 commission.

He stopped hammering the stake of a 'For Sale' sign into my parent's lawn and offered me his hand with a toothy grin. Lovely, Pino's pizza was stuck in his teeth. The Pino's Hawaiian Special to be exact. In the Burg I was considered an expert when it came to pizza; CSIs gathering and analyzing forensic evidence had nothing on me.

"My fair Stephanie Plum." The words oozed out of his smarmy mouth.

"How are you this beautiful day?" I think I vomited a little in my mouth as I pulled my hand away from his and wiped Ed cooties off onto my jeans.

"Ed, what's going on here?"

Before he could answer, high pitched keening from inside the house caused me to do an about face and race up the stairs, taking them two at a time with my stun gun drawn. 'Always be prepared.' It took me a long time to learn that lesson. Maybe my life wouldn't have been such a mess in the past if my parents had sent me to Boy Scouts instead of Girl Scouts when I was a kid, I thought dryly.

Well, I had a rule book to follow now that seemed to cover just about every conceivable situation I could possibly find myself in. It was almost as if the book had been written just for me.

I stood motionless in the doorway as my eyes swept the room, taking in the scene laid out before me. To say that an A-Bomb had exploded in the living room would have been too kind. The living room was usually in pristine condition, where every last picture frame and knick knack had its place. No one, and I mean NO ONE, dared to so much as move a coaster from its designated location. This was not that room. This room was a disaster with boxes and tissue paper strewn everywhere!

The sound of the front door opening had brought my mom running at break neck speed from the kitchen. She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to the nearest box.

"Wrap and Pack. Go. Go. Go." She sounded like a drill sergeant.

"Mom, I'm not moving from this spot until you tell me what the hell is going on."

She took a shuddering breath and sunk into the couch.

"We have to move." She started sobbing again. "Somewhere far away. Do they have taxis in Alaska?"

She sat up straight. "What about Canada? They speak English there, right?" A sudden look of horror washed over her face. "They do have electricity, don't they?" I think she was worried that she would have to leave her iron behind.

I blew out a frustrated breath. We were getting nowhere fast and I was feeling a little agitated. I started seriously weighing the merits of bitch-slapping my mother against the number of Hail Marys I would have to say after Confession. It was a hard call. I've gotta tell you, it was taking all of my self-control to keep my hands safely tucked in my jeans' pockets. Like my mouth, my hands sometimes had a will of their own. Better safe than sorry I thought.

"Mother. Tell. Me. What. Is. Going. On. Now," I ground out between clenched teeth.

"It's that crazy old bat. Your father was right, she's off her rocker. The phone will be ringing off the hook. Everyone will be talking about us. We're going to be the laughing stock of Trenton."

"Oh God," she groaned. "We won't be able to show our faces in this town again. We'll have to move. Change our names. Enter the Witness Protection Program." I wanted to give her a good ol' Burg eye roll, but she looked like a woman on the edge. She was truly scary!

Stop! Think! I wracked my brain for something useful. 'Patience is a virtue.' 'There is no spoon.' 'Luke, use the force.' 'Beam me up, Scottie.' Damn, I had nothing.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus. You could do this. I needed to channel my inner Ghandi. 'Ohmmmmmm.' Stop peeking, I scolded myself. 'Ohmmmmmm. My mind and body are one. I am the tree. In a forest? Um, surrounded by lots of green stuff?'

Shit, I wished that I'd paid better attention in Tank's 'Meditation for Dummies' class. It was a requirement for all new RangeMan hires to attend this class, or at least that was the story Ranger was sticking to. He assured me that I wasn't being singled out and it had absolutely nothing to do with my monthly mood swings or the bullet I put in my computer monitor after a particularly frustrating day. I totally believed him and not just because he had his tongue wedged down my throat and his hands up my shirt at the time. Yep, it was totally plausible.

"She's...she's..."

'Yesss,' I thought. It was going worked. The Yogi mind rays I was shooting at her had snapped her will like a twig. She was going to squeal like a pig, sing like a canary. My Chakra kicked her Chakra to the curb. Who's the girl? I'm the girl, oh yeah! My inner Ghandi was doing the Snoopy dance. I'm sure my aura was glowing. Tank would be so proud!

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"...No, I just can't say it. It's too horrible."

(Cue gut-wrenching, mournful howling)

Well, hell.

(Fade to black)

TBC

N/B "There is no spoon" is a quote from the movie The Matrix.

A huge thanks to Alf (Lisa) and Mud for editing and support