Hey guys! Thanks so much for choosing to read this story. I am pretty excited about it and have been trying to write a few chapters in advance so as to keep up with updates, but I must confess that I have not been the most diligent updater in the past. I am a senior in high school, after all, and I have homework and college preparation and work to contend with. However, reviews might encourage me to find the time to put some extra work into this story. If that matters to anyone. Just sayin'. (;

The title of this story was inspired by the song Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson.

Disclaimer: I'm sure it goes without saying, but I do not actually own Stephanie Plum. Or Rex or the Buick or Ranger (sadly enough) or anything else for that matter.

...

If there is one thing I hate in this world, it's a drunk old man intent on shooting me. That, along with rolls of fat around my middle, dead bodies, hangovers, and especially people breaking into my apartment (I mean really, that's just rude). Lucky as I am, I actually have to deal with almost all of the above on a fairly regular basis. I just love my life sometimes.

My name is Stephanie Plum and I'm a bond enforcement agent. I work for my cousin Vinnie, picking up FTAs (failure to appear) and dragging their sorry asses back to court. It's a great job, excepting all of the drunk old men intent on shooting me. Okay, so it has its pros and its cons, but it's a way to earn a living, right?

That's what I was telling myself, anyway, as I ran screaming with Lula from Brandon Helfert's house at eleven in the morning. By the time we got back to her Firebird, my throat was sore, my lungs were burning, and my heart was attempting to beat right out of my chest. Lula was panting and gesturing wildly with her arms, clearly winded and unable to find her voice. Her hair—jet black this week—was sticking straight out behind her from our mad dash to the car; I doubted I looked a whole lot better. On the bright side, I didn't roll around in either garbage or food this time. That's me, ever the optimist.

Hah. Yeah, right.

"Holy shit," gasped Lula, finally regaining her ability to speak. "Did that really just happen? Did you see that? That ugly motherfucker just tried to shoot at us. Goddamn."

"I hate when this happens," I groaned, leaning my head back against the passenger seat and closing my eyes. "Why can't we ever pick up an FTA without getting shot at? Why?"

"That does it. I'm done. I am sick and tired of them punk ass motherfuckers thinking they can scare me off just by wavin' a gun in my face. No more. No sir. I'm gonna march up there and show that sonuvabitch that Lula's boss."

I stared at her silently, waiting for what would inevitably come next…

"And I would go set him straight now, but I just realized that I'm pretty hungry right this second. In fact, I think need a Big Mac. That and a large fry and a large Coke and two of them apple pies. Maybe I should deal with him later. After all, it'll be hard work showing people whose boss on an empty stomach. I'm gonna need my strength." She put the key in the ignition, started the car, and headed for the nearest McDonald's.

Thank God for fast food.

Twenty minutes later, we were parked on the street and walking into the bonds office, two bags of food and three giant sodas in our hands.

"Hey, Connie," I greeted the office manager, passing some food and a drink her way. She took everything gratefully and immediately dug in. Connie had just opened her mouth to speak to me when the door to Vinnie's office cracked open and Vinnie's head peeked out.

"So did you two idiots get Brandon Helfert, or what? 'Cause it doesn't sound to me like you did. And I'm gonna be really upset if in two weeks from now I'm out of my money because you dummies still haven't gotten a simple domestic abuser rebonded."

"He shot at us!" I trilled, hands on hips in indignation. You'd think I'd be used to people shooting at me by now, but I still got huffy over it. I mean, I was only doing my job. It's not like I was going to hurt them. I certainly didn't deserve to be shot at. Yeesh.

"Whatever. You had just better deal with him soon." He glared around at all of us for a moment before retreating into his office, slamming the door shut behind him.

"I sure don't wanna know what he does in that office," said Lula, shuddering.

"Me neither," I agreed, my top lip curling back in disgust.

Connie nodded fervently, pressing her lips tightly together. Probably fighting the urge to throw up. Can't say I blame her.

"Got any more FTAs for me?" I asked her after taking a large gulp of soda. "I'm obviously not having much luck with Helfert right now. I may as well focus on somebody else."

"Well…" began Connie, but she trailed off almost immediately, her eyes moving from my face to a point just behind me. Judging by the tingle that danced down my spine and the wave of heat that stole through my body, it was Ranger. A warm hand settled at my waist and my suspicions were confirmed.

"Babe," he said, a smile in his voice.

"Yo," I replied, twisting my head to the side so that I could look at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, what kind of an answer was that. "Alright. So why were you looking for me?"

"I've got a job for you."

That caught me off guard. For the past several weeks, Ranger had been very distant with me, hardly ever calling to check up on me, rarely running into me at the office or anywhere else, and only visiting me in the middle of the night once. And he hadn't asked for my help for even longer than that. If I didn't know better, I would almost say Ranger was avoiding me. And sadly enough, I didn't know better.

"Earth to Babe."

"Sorry, this is just a little…unexpected," I answered, my brow furrowing.

"Let me take you to lunch and I'll explain," he offered, his hand moving from my waist to splay against my stomach. My knees wobbled at his touch, but I managed to stay upright. Score for Stephanie.

"Okay," I agreed meekly, allowing Ranger to throw his arm around my shoulders and steer me out the door. I caught a glimpse of Connie and Lula fanning themselves and diving for their cool sodas out of the corner of my eye. I would roll my eyes at their seemingly dramatic behavior, but I actually kind of felt like doing the same. Ranger was that hot. "So what's the deal?" I prodded the second I had strapped myself into his super powerful, super expensive, super awesome car. The Porsche. Yum.

"I need your help with a distraction," he stated in his calm, controlled voice.

As if I couldn't have figured that out all by myself. I fought the urge to sigh in frustration. What, was I supposed to guess the exact nature of the job he wanted me to do? Did he want to play twenty questions? Did he think I was psychic and could magically just know what the deal was?

I waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent, staring out the windshield, seemingly in his zone. Though I had started out as a little miffed, as the silence between us lengthened, I grew worried. He had been acting so strangely lately and he was talking to me even less than usual now, which was saying something. Usually, he'd at least ask how I was or something, but so far, he had hardly said a word. I wondered if he was mad at me. Maybe I had done something to offend him and I just didn't realize it. But he had his right hand resting lightly on my thigh. Surely he wouldn't be touching me like that if he were angry…

"You're thinking awfully hard over there," Ranger observed, finally breaking the silence.

"Just wondering what the plan is," I said quietly, unwilling to share my thoughts. Maybe I would ask him what was going on with him later, but I had to work up the courage first. No way was I brave enough to bring it up now.

"I'll tell you when we get there." He squeezed my knee and left it at that.

Impatience was gnawing at me and I was starting to get antsy when the car finally stopped in front of a building. Shorty's. I immediately relaxed and flashed Ranger a bright and grateful smile, scrambling out of the car and following my nose to the door.

"You're going to want to wait for me, babe," said Ranger behind me, the echo of a chuckle in his voice. I slowed down until he caught up with me.

"Sorry, I kind of left my McDonald's back at the office with Connie and Lula so I'm starving," I explained with an apologetic grin.

"I'm sure Lula will take care of it for you." The corners of his mouth twitched.

"By the time we got there, she had already eaten my Big Mac," I sighed, shaking my head ruefully. "I was planning on stealing her pies to get back at her, but I guess she'll get to keep those for herself now too."

"Babe." That's all he said, but I could tell he was laughing at me.

"It's not funny," I insisted, crossing my arms huffily.

"Cute," he said, tugging on a lock of my hair before snaking his arm around my waist.

"Hunh."

We were seated at the bar and instantly provided with glasses of water along with a Coke for me. I was content basking in the smell of cooking tomato sauce and the sound of talking patrons for a while, but any patience that I had remaining quickly evaporated after the pizza arrived. I managed to resist questioning Ranger through the first slice, but after that, my curiosity got the better of me.

"So?" I said, looking up at him expectantly.

He looked at me steadily, face betraying no emotion, no hint as to what was going on in that mysterious head of his. Finally, he answered in a low, authoritative voice. "Pack your bags. Tomorrow morning, you and I are off to Atlantic City to bring in a high bond FTA."