Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.

A/N: This is a sequel to 'Angel on My Shoulder.' I realized that I wasn't quite done playing, and enough people asked for it, so here is a 5 chapter story chronicling Steph's new job and her road to a HEA with Ranger.

A/N 2: SITREP – Situation Report; FUBAR – F**ked Up Beyond All Recognition

For those who came in late, what you need to know from the previous story:

Joe Morelli was an ass to Stephanie. They're broken up now, but his calling her an embarrassment in front of half the cops in Trenton was the impetus she needed to take stock of her life.

She got some training, with help from old and new friends and Ranger.

Stephanie and Ranger are together. (Woot!)

Stephanie decided she was tired of bounty hunting – she's now a PI specializing in tracking down deadbeat dads.

Chapter 1

Step 1: Love what you do and you'll never work a day in your life.

It was a Thursday in late April and I was watching yet another car go up in flames. I'm no longer the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter,' but I guess some things will never change.

With a sigh, I pressed speed dial 1 on my phone and waited for the call to connect. "I'm fine, but the car isn't."

Carlos "Ranger" Mañoso, the love of my life, was succinct as usual. "Babe, I don't care about the car. I'll be there in five."

I didn't even bother to give him my location. At last count there were six trackers on me at all times. While I was waiting for my man, I tapped out a quick text to my mom and grandma. My mom and I had reached an agreement months ago. I texted or called her after any gossip-worthy mishap and she didn't bug me about my job or compare me to the neighbors' children. You know the old saying: 'letting my mom know I'm OK keeps the Jim Beam away'. We all liked my mom sober.

Carlos arrived just after the cops and fire and rescue. I waved to Eddie Gazzara, Trenton cop and cousin-by-marriage, but made my way over to Ranger first. He met me halfway and pulled me into a tight hug. Ranger had come to check up on me after many a car explosion, but this was the first time either of us was free to show how we really felt.

"Thanks for letting me know you were OK," he murmured as he pressed a kiss onto the top of my head. He drew back so he could check me out, head to toe. Normally that kind of attention led to sexy fun times, but today he was just making sure I was still in one piece.

"SITREP, Babe?" My lover Carlos was temporarily shoved aside for Ranger, the ex- Army commando.

"FUBAR. I'm not hurt, though. I was down the street when it blew." I smirked. "Thank God and Super Big Gulps." Luckily, nature had called and I'd come back just in time to watch one Mickey Malone stuff a burning rag into my gas tank.

"Babe." Ranger's lips tilted up into a half-grin. "Current case?"

I cut my eyes toward a storefront across the street from my burning car. It was a print shop with a discreet black and silver 'Protected by RangeMan' sticker in its window. "Old case. We'll talk later," I told him just before my pal Eddie and Bobby Brown, the RangeMan medic, reached me.

As I walked away, I watched Ranger and his right hand man, Tank, make their way toward the print shop. I had a feeling the security feed would be in their hands in a matter of minutes.

The next half hour went like usual, with some welcome exceptions. Bobby and the paramedics checked me over, the fire department hosed down the car, and Eddie took my statement. Refreshingly, there was no money changing hands over my latest mishap and Joe Morelli wasn't on-site yelling at me. The betting pool on my life was permanently closed, and Joe and I were long over. This time he texted me, I texted back an 'I'm OK', and that was that. Joe made a much better 'ex' than a boyfriend.

Ranger rejoined me just as the remains of the 1998 Ford Escort I was driving was loaded onto a wrecker. "Well, at least it was one of the rent-a-wrecks this time."

Since I'd quit bounty hunting to start a private investigation business, I'd started renting a series of POS's Big Al's garage kept around for 'discreet operations'. I didn't ask what that meant. The cars had VINs and everything, so what did I care? I got a good deal when I needed to blend in for stake-outs and Big Al got a tax write-off for helping out my not-for-profit. It was usually a win-win situation.

Ranger tucked a curl behind my ear and nuzzled me there. "You're worth more than any car, Babe."

He wrapped an arm around my waist as we made our way toward his Porsche 911 Turbo. My day wasn't going so great, but at least I got a ride back to the office in a car that was sex on wheels.

"Even with all of my training, I didn't try to stop him. I just ran for cover." I settled myself into the passenger seat and breathed in the combined scents of Ranger and fine Italian leather. Heaven.

"It was kind of my fault this time. The perp must've made me while I was out this morning," I admitted quietly.

"You did the right thing." Ranger reached over and squeezed my hand. "I would've been right behind you. You want to talk about it?"

I sighed. "It was one of the ex-husbands from a couple of months back. Mickey Malone must've found out that I was the one that tracked him down and got his wages garnished. He looked right at me when he was setting the car on fire, so I think he just meant this as payback."

Ranger's jaw clenched and unclenched. I wouldn't want to be Mickey right now. "Any reason you didn't give his name to the cops?"

I shrugged. "He can't pay child support from jail. If he's caught, it'll be on him, not me." The thought of having kids of my own still made my eye twitch, but I couldn't stand the idea of any child going without.

Ranger's lips twitched slightly. "You got a point. Want me to talk to him?"

I snorted. "And I could stop you? Just don't mess him up too bad." I resisted the urge to pinch myself. There had been no yelling, just acceptance of my judgment and an offer of help. I guess sleeping with me didn't automatically turn men into jerks and cheats. Smart Stephanie was awfully smug right now.

He chuckled. "I know, Babe. The guy's gotta be able to keep those kids in shoes. I'm just going to politely remind him that he should be grateful to you for making sure he took care of his familial responsibilities."

Hmmm. That maybe boded well for Mickey's health. "Have at it. You'll probably do a better job than I could."

"I don't know Babe, you come from a long line of scary women."

"Bite me." I leaned over and laid a quick kiss on him. "Thanks for the ride."

We'd just pulled into the parking garage of an office building off of Haywood. RangeMan, the security company Ranger co-owns, occupies floors two through six. My offices are currently on the first floor and we've lived together on the seventh since just before Christmas.

Ranger took me up on my offer, so it was quite a while before I made it out of the garage.

R&S~R&S~R&S

I staggered into the somewhat plush offices of the 'Trenton Family Resource Center' a few minutes later. I know, it's a really lame name, but the lawyers convinced me that boring was better when I was applying for not-for-profit status. Lula's choice, 'Pay your child support or Stephanie Plum will kick your ass,' didn't fit on the letterhead, anyway.

I brushed my fingers over the small brass door plaque as I made my way over to the reception desk. My only employee, Lula, took my iPad and digital camera from me.

"It's 'bout time you got back, the phone's been ringing off the hook. You a'ight, White Girl?" Lula's a former file clerk and used to help me out sometimes when I was bounty hunting. Now she brings in the low bond bail jumpers for my cousin Vinnie a couple days of the week and takes care of my office for me the rest of the time.

I smiled crookedly at her. "Ranger wanted to talk to me."

"I just bet he did." Lula fanned herself with the collar of her jacket. "That man is so hot, no wonder you let him 'talk' to you anytime he wants." Lula has a unique style, but since coming to work for me, she's gone for a more professional look. That day's take on business casual consisted of a black spandex mini-dress and a hot pink blazer. Say what you want, but she was working it.

"Don't hate me because he's beautiful." I flopped down into a visitor's chair.

Lula howled with laughter. "Fuckin' A." She dug around in her bottom desk drawer. "I heard about your car explodin'. You need you some medicinal chocolate."

I took the bar of Godiva from her. "Well, at least it wasn't the Audi." Carlos had given me the fully tricked out SUV for our six month anniversary.

"Good thing, too. I remember how hard he had to work to get you to take that car. He put some serious sweat into it."

"Remind me to never get drunk around you again," I groaned as I hid my flaming face in my hands. Carlos went through a whole twelve pack of condoms before he'd talked me into accepting his present. I'd finally given in out of exhaustion. I'd had some good dreams about that weekend.

I bit into the candy bar and savored the chocolate-y goodness. "I got the goods for that custody case. Can you upload my notes and the pictures? I'll start the report and court filing."

Lula shook her head. "I can't believe you took that case for Joe's cousin."

"I don't discriminate against men," I told her. "The evidence backed up Vince's claims. His ex-wife's boyfriend is running drugs out of her house and maybe beating on the kids, too, so they're out of there if I have to go get them myself." I'd already reported them to Family and Children's Services.

"I know. People like that don't deserve kids." Lula shoved the iPad into its docking station. "I just meant that he was a Morelli and all."

"Eh. Joe's alright since he started dating that school teacher." I tossed the wrapper into the trash as I headed toward my office. "Since Joe's footing the bill, I'm charging the full rate." OK, I wasn't really, at least by normal PI standards, but Joe had a job. He could afford to pay me.

Lula had already uploaded the files by the time I logged onto my desktop, and I saw where she'd taken care of the billing that morning. Lula was a lousy file clerk at at the bonds office, but she worked hard for me. In her words, 'Vinnie's a perverted weasel that ain't worth my time, but I got your back, White Girl.'

I sent Ranger a copy of my file on Mickey Malone with a note: Dinner? I promise it's Ella's night to cook.

He texted me back with a time and one word. 'Babe'. I smiled as I began my report. It wasn't quite the white picket fence, dinner on the table by six ideal, but it was our life and I liked it.

Because my training partner, Hector, is RangeMan's resident electronic genius, I was able to power through the paperwork. He'd set up a web form with lots of drop down boxes for me, and with a click of the mouse, my billing program would update, too. It worked as long as we didn't mix up case ID numbers. That had happened once and it wasn't pretty since the guy in question had two sets of children by different women who happened to both be my clients. Strange coincidence? Maybe, but my life is filled with them. Lula swore it was an honest mistake.

By 4 PM, Lula had taken a copy of the report and my preliminary filing for Vince Morelli to Family Court. By 5:30, I'd finished a preliminary background check for a client and had run a couple of skips for RangeMan, so I called it a day and headed up to seven.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Rex was on his exercise wheel when I walked into the apartment. "You're getting pretty buff, there, Rex," I told him as I peeked into his cage. Ella had left him baby carrots and the organic hamster treats that she made for him. I was eating healthier, too, but Ella still made sure I had plenty of TastyKakes in the cupboard. All in all, living with Ranger had been good for the both of us.

Rex hopped off the wheel and twitched his whiskers at me when I threw a grape into his food bowl. "You're welcome. Good talking to you buddy, but I need a shower."

I'd always loved Ranger's apartment, but my favorite room had to be the bath. After years of dubious water pressure and seventies' décor at my old apartment, the designer-tiled shower with multiple showerheads elevated a mere exercise in personal hygiene to pure bliss.

I'd just loaded more of Ranger's orgasmic shower gel onto my sponge when I felt the first tingling sensation on the back of my neck. Smiling wickedly, I turned around and propped one leg up on the shower seat, making sure I did an extra thorough job of spreading the lather around.

My show had its desired effect, because in the next instant strong mocha-latte colored arms were lifting and turning me. I ended up pinned against the shower wall by two hundred pounds of aroused Cuban male.

"Hi," I purred as I ran the loofa over his chest and arms. "I heard you were pretty good in the shower, so how about helping me scrub my back?"

His lips crashed down on mine and those were the last words I spoke for a while. Thank goodness Ranger hadn't skimped on the hot water tank. After a shower that didn't have a whole lot to do with getting clean, I insisted that Ranger put on some sweats. Even on the best of days, shirtless Ranger tests my self-control. Naked Ranger would be way too much.

"Babe." I stifled a giggle at his look of disappointment when I threw on a T-shirt and yoga pants.

"No more funny business for at least an hour, Mister. I need food!" I deftly dodged him as he made a grab for me, and right on cue, my stomach roared.

With a grin, Ranger caught me and hoisted me over one shoulder. "Time to feed the beast, Babe."

I was still shrieking with laughter when he set me on my feet in the kitchen. Ella had left something heavenly smelling on the stovetop and bread warming in the oven.

"Goulash! I haven't had this in years!" I moaned as I took a quick taste. It was probably made with tofu or something healthy like that, but it was almost as good as my grandma's. "I wish Ella would adopt me."

Ranger chuckled. "I think she already has," he told me as he passed over a couple of bowls. "You're the only one she bakes for and she never makes my favorites anymore."

"That's because you're no fun to cook for." I swatted him playfully on the bottom as I carried the bread and utensils into the dining area.

Dinner was every bit as good as it smelled. Don't get me wrong, my heart will always belong to Pino's pizza, but this meal brought me back to Grandma Mazur's kitchen, when she'd cook while I hid out in my super-secret fort under the table. I'd inhaled half of my bowl of stew before I remembered how I'd spent my lunch hour.

"So, how's Mickey Malone feeling tonight?" I snorted at Ranger's attempt at an innocent expression. "Don't give me that, I'd bet my last TastyKake you've already visited him."

Ranger smirked. "He's very sorry that he torched your car. He'll steer clear from now on."

"But…" Now I didn't condone people blowing up things around me, but I had to think about his kids.

"Babe. We hardly laid a hand on him." Ranger scowled. "I can't vouch for the condition of his pants after Hector got through with him, though."

"You're scary, but you and Hector together?" I mock shuddered. "I'd be surprised if he didn't need new underpants. Any idea how he found out about me?"

"He overheard his ex-wife bragging about you to her sister." Ranger's expression was solemn. "Maybe it's time to consider a non-disclosure agreement?"

I groaned. As a PI, I promised my clients confidentiality, but I'd stopped short of demanding the same from them. "Jameson drafted one for me when I incorporated, but it just seemed a little cold."

"In this town?" Ranger shook his head. "People talk so damn much, nothing short of a lawsuit would stand a chance of shutting them up."

I sighed. "I'll start using it." The lawyers had worked too hard at burying my involvement in the business, and I was getting used to my relatively quiet life. It had been months since my last trip to ER and I hadn't picked up a stalker since I quit bounty hunting.

After dinner was my favorite part of the day. Once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher, barring any last minute call outs or alarms, Ranger the bad-ass was left behind. In our apartment, with the lights turned low, I had my lover to myself. Carlos was a snuggler, and with me wrapped in his arms, we'd shared stories and I'd heard all of his plans for RangeMan over the last few months. I was trying to catch my breath after a particularly funny story about Bobby and Les in Amsterdam when he asked me about my plans for the rest of the week.

"Wait!" I howled, wiping tears from my eyes. "Heh heh! I can't believe I wasn't the first naked person in handcuffs you had to rescue."

"The sight of Les and Bobby's naked asses is something I'd like to forget. Morelli was a bastard to chain you to your shower rod, but that night is one of my favorite memories," he said with a wolf grin.

I rolled my eyes. "You could've fooled me. You barely even looked."

"Babe. You were mad as hell, and we'd known each other for about a minute. I was trying to be a gentleman." His eyes softened. "You trusting me like that meant a lot more to me than copping a feel or a quick lay."

I melted against him. "I don't know if that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me or if I should be banishing you to the couch tonight."

He grinned. "Let's go with the first option, I hate to sleep without you. Which reminds me…."

"OK. Now that's definitely the sweetest thing you've ever said." I leaned up for a kiss and it was several minutes before he could finish his sentence.

"I have to fly down to the Atlanta office tomorrow. I should only be gone a couple of days, but you want to go with me, and make a weekend of it?"

I made a face. "I have to work tomorrow night. A client's ex is supposed to be bartending at that new club and I need to check it out."

Ranger's jaw set. "Any chance you'd take some back up?"

I hid a grin as I geared up for our favorite game. Negotiating with Ranger was like foreplay. "Chippendales is in back town, so I'm taking the girls with me."

"Babe." His gaze was guarded. "Is that wise?"

I smirked. The last time we'd gone, Francine and Grandma had stormed the stage during a group number and started dirty dancing with a couple of the performers. It was all fun and games until Grandma started to strip.

"It'll be fine," I countered. "Grandma is still banned and Lula has a date, so it'll just be Francine and Connie."

"At least those two know how to keep it together." He made a thoughtful noise. "Take a couple of the men as designated drivers, anyway."

"It can't be just anyone," I hedged. "Les would be worse than Grandma, and Hal would be scarred for life. And it's a good thing you can't come because you'd start a riot," I said with a snort

"Babe."

"What? You know you're hot."

"Babe. Please?" His lips skimmed along my throat before finally settling on that spot behind my ear that always drove me crazy.

"No fair – you're bringing out the big guns too early," I whined. When he drew my earlobe between his teeth, I huffed out a breath. "Fine, I'll ask Hector and Binkie and that's my final offer."

He chuckled. "The poor bastards."

"What?" I traced down the ridges of his abs until I reached the waistband of his sweats. "Binkie is laid back enough and Hector might actually enjoy the show."

He just shook his head. "Your reasoning is impeccable as always, Babe."

"Fuckin' A," I said smugly. Then my fingers slipped beneath his waistband and we decided to table the discussion for the night.

R&S~R&S~R&S-

The next morning, Ranger was up at five AM to work out. I slept in, and got up in just enough time to start the coffee and jump Ranger in the shower. By eight, I'd kissed Ranger goodbye and was folding a load of laundry I'd forgotten from the night before.

"I can always do that, dear," Ella reminded me for the hundredth time when she let herself in.

"You work hard enough already." I was pretty sure my cheeks were flaming red. There was no way she was getting a good look at our sheets. When I'd first moved in we'd worked out a deal – I did the laundry and slapped together some breakfast during the week, Carlos cooked on the weekends, and Ella did everything else. I'm pretty sure Ella was getting the short end of the stick, but on the bright side, we ate like kings and she hadn't caught us in any compromising positions in a while.

I thanked Ella for last night's dinner, told Rex good bye, and I was opening up the office by eight thirty. Being a grown-up was hard, but someone had to do it.

Thankfully, there were no car explosions to liven up my day. I spent the morning running searches and the afternoon tracking down Michael Schumacher. It turned out he'd changed his name to Michelle and was working as a receptionist for a dentist over in Lawrenceville. He looked pretty good in heels. Either he/she was a master of disguise or I was getting an idea of why that marriage failed.

By nine PM, I had changed into some low-rise skinny jeans and a cute-ish top and I was on my way to the club. Binkie had remembered he had a family emergency, but Hector had just muttered something about 'weak-ass hetero strip shows' and agreed to go with me.

"Your curls are escaping, Chica," he told me as we headed down to the garage. "Any reason for the disguise?"

"Uh… red heads have more fun?" I hurriedly tucked the rest of my hair up into the wig from last year's Black Widow costume that I'd grabbed at the last minute. Truth was I was still a little spooked from the day before and didn't want yet another angry ex-husband after me.

"Relax." He adjusted the wig a little. "You're not bad at this PI shit, you know?"

Connie and Francine were a little more blasé.

"Good look on ya!" Francine said in the same booming voice she once used to tell me to drop and give her twenty. "I heard you knocked Peanut on his ass the other day at kickboxing."

"Sorry about that." Peanut was bigger than half of the RangeMen, but he was still her baby boy.

"Forget about it. It's good for him." Francine slurped down some more of her giant margarita. It looked like I had a little catching up to do.

I looked around and spotted my mark behind the bar. After shooting the breeze with Connie and Francine for bit, I turned toward Connie.

"Can you do me a big favor?" I asked as I handed her a twenty. "The next round's on me, but could you flirt with the taller bartender a little, too?"

Connie pursed her lips. "Sure, he ain't bad looking, so it's no hardship."

I snorted. "He forgets to pay his child support a lot, so he's not that good of a prospect."

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Say no more." Connie fluffed up her double-D girls and sauntered toward the bar. Hector and I shared a long look and he melted into the crowd to keep an eye on her.

I followed after a few beats and surreptitiously took a few photos of the ex-husband on my way to the bathroom. We all made it back to the table just in time for the show to start.

Connie slid a slip of paper toward me. "I got his address, too, on account I might come over after his shift tonight," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Damn, you're good. I should put you on retainer." I took a quick look and noticed the first name didn't match my records. "Huh, maybe he's working under an assumed name." That was going around a lot lately and explained his lack of income. I made a note to check it out later.

Just then, the lights dimmed and Francine and Connie pulled out wads of dollar bills. I scooted back deeper into my seat and knocked back the rest of my margarita. The dancers weren't bad to look at, but as Lula once said, 'why go out for hamburger when you got steak at home?'

Toward the end of the show, I nudged Hector. Francine had scored us a table right next to the stage, so we had a good view of the, er, talent.

"I think he likes you." I motioned toward the dancer currently on stage. "Why the scowl, I thought you'd enjoy this more?"

"Yeah, sure, I love to spend my Friday nights in a room full of horny women." Hector snorted and cast a dismissive glance toward the young guy that was shaking his moneymaker in our direction. "Not my type. I'll take you to the clubs in Miami and show you a real strip show some time."

"I'm not sure I'm old enough for that." I was no prude, but I didn't think I could keep up with a Merry Man on the prowl. I'd heard stories.

Just then one of the Chippendales guys danced up to Connie and pulled her to her feet. Huh – Connie had some moves I didn't know about. Fun times. That is, until someone loses an eye.

Or in this case, Connie's tennis bracelet gets caught in an exotic dancer's pants. I could almost see it happening in slow motion. He pulled back, she went with him, and then they both panicked. I jumped up to help and so did Francine. We ended up in a tangle of limbs on the floor, with the rest of the club hooting and hollering behind us.

It took Hector and a couple of the bouncers to separate us, and my heart almost stopped when I looked up into the eyes of Connie's new friend – the scum-sucking ex-husband/bartender.

Then, I breathed a sigh of relief when his gaze slid right past me to focus on Connie. Not a single sign of recognition.

The manager was understanding – we could even come back as long as there were no male strippers on site. After a couple of medicinal tequila shots, I loaded the girls into a RangeMan SUV. I sort of pitied Ram and Woody because Francine was getting a little handsy.

I was quiet as we drove toward Haywood.

"You OK, chica?" Hector asked, finally bringing me out of my reverie.

"Huh?" I shook my head and finally smiled. "Nothing big, just thinking about how much I love my job."

Hector shook his head. "You're crazy, but I think I like you anyway."

AN: I'm not a legal expert, but depending upon the state and courts, you don't necessarily need a lawyer for certain actions. Let's assume for the purpose of this fanfic, that as a representative of her clients she can either work with their lawyers or file a limited number of motions with the court (i.e. motion to amend or collect child support, etc.)