My Fair Lady
aly
Two
"Are you still serious?" I asked her a week later. She still hadn't left my apartment, but that was alright with me. I wasn't in any hurry to let her out of my sight just yet. The fact that she'd been shot and had to defend herself by killing a man, all before she knew anything about this kind of life, made me nervous.
"About this bounty hunting thing?" she asked. I nodded. "Yeah."
"Six months," I told her. "In six months, I can make you good. Really good. But you have to agree to follow the rules and do what I say."
"For six months?" I nodded. "What am I gonna do for, you know, food, rent?"
"You'll close out the lease on your apartment. We'll go to a place I have. You won't have to worry about anything except training."
"Are you serious?" she asked. "You want me to just move somewhere with you for six months?" Well, yeah. I just nodded. She smiled. Shrugged.
"Sure."
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
A week later and she was still living with me. She'd asked if she should go back to her apartment, but I told her not to. If we were going to be living together for the next six months under conditions not nearly so pleasant, then I thought we should make sure we could live together when I wasn't pushing her so far or so fast.
She had been rather adamant, though, about needing various things from her apartment. I could understand her wanting her clothes. What confused me was why she hadn't asked for them earlier. Of course, it may have been the pain killers, and then dealing with the shock and trauma of having killed someone. I was proud of her, though, and the way she was dealing with it all. So I brought her back to her apartment and let her pack what she thought she needed.
While Steph was putting things together in her room there was a knock on the door. I went to answer it, gun at my side. Opening the door I saw it was Morelli. With pizza.
"Morelli." He just looked at me and blinked.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "You can't just break into her apartment like this. And how did you know I'd be here."
"Hey Ranger," Stephanie called from the bedroom. "What do you want me to do with your clothes? Do you want me to bring them back with us or do I have time for a load of laundry?"
"What made you think I was here for you," I said to Morelli before answering Steph. "Bring them back with us."
"Who were you talking to?" she asked as she came into the living room. Then she'd spotted him "Oh. Hey, Joe. What's up?"
I could see the wheels turning in Morelli's head as he watched her walk in with a suitcase dragging behind her.
"Ooh, pizza. Come in. I've got beer," she said moving to the kitchen. "We have time, right Ranger?" She'd paused, turned to me and smiled. It was good that we were already working out the partner thing; partners consult each other before they make decisions. And we'd be partners for six months, just the two of us, living in close quarters with constant contact. Pleased that she'd asked, and wanting to please her, I agreed. I told myself it was because partners try to keep each other happy, too.
"What's going on Steph?" he asked. "Where are you going? What's Ranger doing here? And why are you doing his laundry?" She looked at him like he was crazy, stopping what she was doing and cocking her head to one side.
"What are you, my mother?"
"Stephanie," Morelli started.
"He's here 'cause he's here," she told him, her tone implying that it was obvious, and that he should very carefully watch his step. "And what business is it of yours anyway? We don't see each other for, what, ten years? Then you're my FTA and I bring you in, and now you're pestering me about doing laundry? Should I expect this from all my skips?"
"Stephanie, this is important. Are you going somewhere with Ranger?" Morelli asked. I didn't like where this was headed, but I'd let it play out. It looked like the two of them had forgotten that I was even in the room. History. There was definite history between the two of them. History I didn't know about.
"Yeah, Joe. In fact, we're having a wildly passionate and sordid affair and even now he's whisking me away to Vegas to marry me." The dryness with which she'd said that made me want to smile, but I managed to keep it to myself. Barely.
"Don't joke," Morelli said sharply. "This is serious. Ranger's dangerous. He's a wild card, and we've been trying to bust him for years but we can't pin anything on him. He runs guns, has no ethics, and I know he doesn't follow the letter of the law. Only superior luck and calling in a few favors have kept him out of jail this long." Was that so? They were still trying to bust me? I'd have to do something about that when we got back. But I was interested in how Stephanie would respond. She didn't disappoint.
"Funny, isn't it, that just a few weeks ago, the cops were trying to pin something on you?" Morelli paused for a minute, but didn't let her point alter his course.
"He's a killer, Stephanie," he ranted. "He's killed people. What are you thinking going anywhere with him!"
"You killed someone, too, Morelli. And, well, so did I," Stephanie stated, quietly and sadly. "I think you should go." I was thinking the same thing. I opened the door, and Morelli looked from Stephanie, to me, and back again.
"Shit," he said, holding his hand over his face. "Stephanie…"
"No. Just leave please." I focused on Stephanie and could see the tears she was trying to hold back glistening in her eyes.
"Dammit Steph," Morelli started.
"She said leave, Morelli," I told him.
"Shit," he said looking at me. I was still holding the door. "Fine. Fine." And he stormed out. I locked it after him and went to Steph. She was trying to hold it together; I could see her trying to hold it together. And so I held her, helping her get her balance back.
"Well," she said in a voice not yet quite steady. "At least we still have the pizza. Pino's is the best Cure-All ever."
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
Another two weeks had passed, a week more than I'd anticipated, but we were on the road to the training facility I own on the coast of South Carolina. Barring clothing and a few other items Steph had insisted were essential, we'd put the rest of her things in storage. Then we'd gone to pick up my things and the Hummer and we'd hit the road.
"So, where are we?" she finally asked. We'd been on the road for a little over four hours.
"Half hour outside of Richmond," I told her. Stephanie took a minute to digest that.
"Where are we going?" I'd been wondering when she'd ask that.
"South Carolina." I looked over to see her reaction to that, and was pleasantly surprised when she blinked a few times and nodded.
"Oh. Ok," she said. Ok? I thought. I was taking her almost 700 miles away from home and all she said was ok? I must have slipped, because she read my disbelief at her reaction.
"Well," she started. "I hadn't realized this place was so far away, but what can ya do, right? I mean, I said I'd go with you for six months, so what does it matter that it's in South Carolina? At least it's in the continental U.S., right?"
I smiled. This was going to be a great six months.
