Author – PinPin [mciupin13 at yahoo dot com]
Rating – R : strong language, eventually some violent and sexually suggestive content (no smut)
Disclaimer – I do not own the characters, etc. I am only borrowing them from Janet. (plenty of originals will pop-up later) This is not for profit, just for kicks.
Notes – post EoT, directly following book 11. Babe, but Cupcake respectful.
***SPOILER ALERT*** Spoilers for all books, especially EoT.


Stephanie Redux - Chapter 2

I awoke slowly and with a smile. I was warm and comfortable and I remembered exactly where I was and who I was with. I shifted closer to Ranger's side. Usually being pressed against this much bare Ranger skin has me experiencing several simultaneous hot flashes, but just then it was soothing. I felt safe and relaxed with his arms wrapped around me. They were the arms of a friend. And boy could these arms be friendly. Well, so much for soothing. I inhaled a long, deep breath. I will never get enough of his scent. That distinct blend of Bvlgari and Manoso was starting to nudge my hormones awake and I could feel several parts of my body join the party my imagination was throwing. I felt Ranger's chest rise and fall beneath me and could feel that he was awake already.

"Ranger?"

"Hmmm?" He still sounded sleepy.

"Are you asleep?"

"Yeah, Babe." This was followed by a low, rumbling chuckle I could feel through his chest. I let a few silent moments pass before opening one of my eyes. It was painfully bright in the apartment.

"What time is it?"

I felt Ranger shift slightly to check his watch. "9:56."

"9:56! What are you still doing sleeping?"

He gave another small laugh and tightened his arms around me. "I'm comfortable."

"Okey dokey." Hey, I wasn't about to argue. More low rumbles. We sat quietly for at least another ten minutes. Eventually, though, Mother Nature was calling to me and I couldn't ignore her one second longer.

"I have to pee."

"Well then you better get the hell off me." This was accompanied by a great deal of rumbling laughter. He loosened his hold on me and I shot up to make a mad dash for the bathroom. When I returned, the blanket had been folded and was back on my bed. I could smell coffee brewing as Ranger came out of the kitchen to sit on the sofa again. He bent down and was putting on his boots, but remained shirtless. I stood in the doorway watching the muscles in his arms and shoulders work as he pulled his laces. I let my mind wander, thinking about how smooth and firm his muscled back felt and about the weight and warmth of his shoulders the night before when he had curled into my lap for comfort. I smiled at the memory; it was the kind of moment you keep with you forever. It had been a small crack in his armor, a tear in Batman's cape. It made him real. It made him human. I'd always known he wasn't a superhero, but it wasn't until that moment that I had felt it. I could feel his imperfection. And yet somehow that seemed to make him all the more perfect. I felt a lump growing in the back of my throat and almost choked when I was startled back to the present. I had been staring.

"See something you like, Babe?" I was suddenly very aware that I was without pants at the moment. He was staring right back at me with his wolf grin firmly in place. I didn't see any of the insecurity or uncertainty that had been in his eyes the night before. My Ranger was back. Whoa Steph, wait a minute. My Ranger? Where did that come from? You know better. Ranger didn't belong to anyone. My mind must have wandered off again, because the next thing I knew I was pulled into a delicious, Ranger hug, correction: a delicious, shirtless, Ranger hug. I swam in his scent for a while, gently rubbing my cheek on his chest. I pulled away to look up at his eyes. No creases, no pain. I spoke softly, barely able to keep the desire from my voice. "Are you ok?"

His lips curved slightly and his eyes darkened. He lifted me into a mind-numbing kiss. Sparks exploded behind my eyes and liquid fire shot through me all the way to my toes. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. With unsteady breaths he whispered against my lips. "Never better."

We were standing together catching our breath when someone knocked on my door. "Damn," I whispered back. He laughed quietly and reached for his shirt while I checked the peephole. Glancing back to make sure Ranger was fully clothed, I opened my door. Eddie was out of uniform, probably off work that morning, and was carrying a Tasty Pastry bag. He smiled and headed straight to the kitchen.

"I took a wild guess that you'd be back here today. And I knew that if you were you wouldn't have any food in the place." Eddie came out of the kitchen with the coffee pot and a plate filled with donuts. He stopped when he caught sight of Ranger. Then he looked me up and down with raised eyebrows. Shit, I forgot. No pants. I should have stopped to make sure I was fully clothed before I let him in. I scraped together what dignity I could and ignored him, crossing the room to look out my window.

"They left the Turbo. Do you have your keys?"

"Babe?" He had a half smile. Of course he had his keys. Ranger was always prepared. He wasn't exactly the type of person who lost or forgot his keys. I mentally frowned and pouted a little. I bet he'd never been locked out of anything. Not that it would matter; he'd just pick the lock.

"Doesn't hurt to ask," I told him prissily.

"Tank and Hal have today, tomorrow, and the next off of work. So do you. I don't want to see you at your desk, but you need to make it to the range sometime tomorrow. If I'm not around get Lester or Ram to help you. The Ducati is still yours. It's in the garage, but someone will bring it here if you need it. Call me if you need anything else." As he spoke he moved towards the door.

I followed him and caught his arm before he could leave. When he turned back to me I reached up to cup his face between my hands. I looked into his eyes one last time trying to convince myself all was well again. He looked right back into my own eyes. After I was sure that I didn't see any more of the fear or hurt or uncertainty, I pulled his face to me and kissed him lightly on his forehead. "Just checking." I released him, and he was out the door and down the hall, like the wind.

I headed back to Eddie who was sitting at the table with a shit-eating grin on his face. "So..."

I cut him off with my hands on my hips and the best 'Burg glare I could muster so soon after waking-up. "Not one word Eddie, and not one bite of donut either. I'm off sugar and if you dare consume one crumb in front of me, Shirley will be a widow before the day is through. I'm going to get dressed and then you're going to take me to breakfast. And if those donuts aren't wrapped up and out of my sight when I get back you're going to wish you were dead before the day is through."

Eddie and I had a late breakfast at the Tip Top Cafe. We talked lightly as we ate. I asked after his family and he asked after mine. When he steered the conversation to more serious matters, he didn't lose his friendly tone. He'd accepted our statements at the station, but he needed to hear the "unofficial" version of the story. He was trying to gather evidence and some of it wasn't adding up. I knew why he was asking. If he didn't know all the facts, he couldn't help. Neither of us spoke about what we both knew was happening. He was trying to figure out which evidence to keep and which evidence would be "misplaced." My guilt coiled around me and tightened its grip. Eddie was a good cop, a great man, and a best friend. I hated that he had to do such things on my account. He knew that I hated it and tried changing the subject as soon as possible. I love my friends.

His first attempt at distraction was pretty successful. He asked about Ranger. I refused to answer his questions, simply explaining that I had had an awful day and being alone in my apartment hadn't felt like a good idea. He seemed to accept that and changed subjects again, this time probably more for his own comfort than for mine.

He was curious about my sugar-free state of affairs. I recounted the wedding cake fiasco at my parents' house and explained about the tippling. The smile on his face was wicked and I had the strange feeling that soon there would be a new betting pool down at the station. When will Stephanie finally crack and have a donut? Will it be after finding the next dead body? Will she be covered in garbage when she breaks down? Will the donut explode? The humiliating possibilities were endless. Shit, I hate cop humor.

Eddie dropped me off at the RangeMan garage so that I could pick up the Duc. I wanted to go upstairs to see who was on duty, but I knew that once I was there I would want to stay and work. It would be better to make a quick exit. I smiled and gave a finger wave to the camera before motoring out of there.

Back at my apartment I sat quietly with a beer trying to decide how to spend the rest of the day, as well as the next, and the next. Three whole days, that's more than enough time to go stir crazy.

Dinner with my parents was a given; if I couldn't have cake I was going to need some lasagna or pot roast. I also needed to get over to Joe's at some point. I was missing Rex already and almost all of my clothes were there. Joe seemed capable enough at the station, and since he was back to work already, I didn't feel bad about leaving him on his own. His leg was healing quickly. There wasn't anything I did for him that couldn't be accomplished just as easily, and probably with much more skill, by a daily visit from his mother. Well there was one thing, but it was not happening. The problem would be getting in and out of Joe's house without having to see Joe. I'd have to give that one more thought later. For the rest of the afternoon, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I needed to talk to Mary Lou. I had some pretty big ideas running through my head and I had a feeling the only person who could help make them sit still was `Lou.

When I reached for the phone to call her I remembered to turn the ringer back on and did the same for my cell phone. That's when I noticed that the red light on my answering machine wasn't lit. I checked the outlet and it was still plugged in and switched on. That was weird. I pressed play and the soft, mechanical voice rang out.

"You have fifty-two messages." What? Holy shit! It had finally happened! I had so many messages the little red light on the machine had actually burned out.

"Message one."

"Cupcake! ... Damn Stephanie!" Damn you too Morelli. That was followed by six more messages from Joe, all of which were simply variations on the first with a peppering of creative expletives. Next were five blank messages, which could also have been from him, once he had shouted himself hoarse.

"Message thirteen."

"Stephanie, it's your mother. Why aren't you at Joe's? And why aren't you answering your phone? And what's this I hear about a car accident last night? Is the Buick all right? Your father wants to take a look at it."

Gee Mom, I'm just fine. Thanks for asking. It was only a little fender bender.

"Message fourteen."

"Stephanie, it's your mother. Come to dinner tonight. I'm making pot roast, and since you're not having cake I've made a pineapple jello mold. No sugar."

Oh, there is a god, and he's smiling down on me.

"Message fifteen."

"Stephanie, it's your mother. Bring Joseph."

Strike that last bit.

"Stephanie, it's your mo..." Beep! Three messages from my mother are more than enough for one day. I pressed the delete button for every 'it's your mother' I heard, and I heard it five more times.

"Message twenty-two."

"Oh, Stephanie! You have to call me back. Your mother's gone bananas. The phone's been ringing off the hook about Con Stiva. Did he really run you over with your Uncle Sander's Buick? Mabel said that she heard at the deli that he kidnapped you and stuffed you in a coffin. Oh, I hope not dear. I remember when Spiro shoved me in that drawer. That was awful. Your mother's ironing like the dickens, but without a tipple she's as mean as a bull with his balls in a vise! You have to come save me!" Maybe I should rethink my dinner plans. When Grandma Mazur sounds that desperate, it cannot mean anything good. Then there were three more messages from her, each one more frantic than the last. Oh hell. I had to go over there. I couldn't leave her like that.

The next dozen messages were from various 'Burg gossips and busybodies trying to not-so-subtly confirm the latest rumors. Apparently the burg was buzzing with talk about Con Stiva. I wasn't interested in hearing any of it. There were three messages from both Lula and Mary Lou; they wanted to know if I was all right and why I wasn't answering my cell phone. There was a similar message from Connie. Mixed in with all of those were a half dozen messages that were just breathing or loud hang-ups, which I also assumed to be from Morelli. The very last two messages were the most interesting, and I was thankful that I hadn't given in and pressed the 'delete all' button, which had been very tempting at about message twenty-nine.

"Message fifty-one."

"Hello. ... I'm calling for Ms. Plum. ... This is Tank. ... Call me." Well, that was different. Ms. Plum? What happened to Steph? Why was Tank calling me anyway? And hasn't he ever left a message before? He sounded affected. The next and very last message was Tank's voice again. He was reciting numbers. Then he disconnected. I guess he remembered that I didn't have his personal cell number, but forgot everything anyone had ever told him about telephone etiquette.

Finished with my beer and my answering machine, I dialed Mary Lou. I told her I would be over soon and she grudgingly saved all of her questions for later. Next I called my parents, thankful beyond description that my father answered the phone. I said that I'd be over for dinner and that I'd fill him in about the Buick then. My father is not what you'd call "chatty," so this call was also mercifully short. I thanked the stars when I got Lula's voicemail. Calling Joe was not an option. Some of those big ideas I was entertaining dealt specifically with Joe. I needed more time to think. Maybe after I talk to Mary Lou, maybe I'll call him tomorrow.

That only left the curious messages from Tank. Why on earth would Tank call me? My first reaction was panic. I thought something might have happened to Ranger. It only took me one millisecond to realize how stupid that was. If there was an emergency and Tank needed me for some reason, he would have found me. Plus, I was confused by the "Ms. Plum" stuff. I doubted that the call was about RangeMan business. He would have called from the office, not his personal cell. Besides, he had today off. He wasn't working. I programmed his number into my phone, but ultimately decided that I would also wait to return his call until after I talked to 'Lou.

Mary Lou's house was blissfully quiet that afternoon. The kids were still at school and Lenny was working. We sat on the floor with our backs to the sofa, the way we used to sit and talk when we were little girls. We had even reverted to our childhood comfort food and had an open jar of dill pickles on the floor between us. Pickles, of course, have no sugar. The no-sugar oath was the first thing I explained to 'Lou. She looked skeptical about it but didn't comment. Then I told her about what had happened the day before at Stiva's. I told her the "official" version of events, but didn't want to lie to her. So I was honest about the fact that she wasn't getting the whole story. First she was upset and accused me of not trusting her. But she forgave me when I explained that the true version could cause problems for me and that the less people who knew, the less people who had to lie for me, and the less likely it would be that I'd find myself in the defendant's chair. Plus, I promised that someday I would tell her the rest. She stretched out her guilt trip long enough to get me to promise to sit for her kids sometime in the near future before she finally let the subject drop.

All the rumors addressed and as much of the story told as possible, I was only left with the restless thoughts that were giving my melon a workout. Mary Lou could read me like a book. She's another one of those people who doesn't require words for communication. She knew that whatever I was about to say was important, and she knew exactly what to do.

"Go put those pickles away and wash your hands. I'm going to go grab my color box and see if I can find someone to watch the kids. Grab some beer too." She was perfect. I felt some more shifting and relaxing deep in my chest. Just being around Mary Lou made me feel good. She made life seem easier.

I headed for the kitchen and thoroughly disposed of all traces of dill. I could hear 'Lou on the phone in the hallway. It sounded like she had found a sitter. I moved to tidy the kitchen table just as I heard the music begin in the living room. Metallica.* I danced around the room like a Cossack with a nuerological disorder as I spread paper towels over the table and opened two bottles of beer. Mary Lou returned with a blinding smile and her famous color box.

Growing up in the 'Burg, young girls are instilled with certain priorities. Strength, loyalty, courage; we all keep those high on our list. But pride ranks way up near the top, and Mary Lou's color box was the pride of the 'Burg. In fact, it wasn't so much a box as it was a trunk. She set it down on the table and opened it to reveal small bottles of nail polish in every color and finish imaginable. It worked like a large tackle box, with trays that open up and out and lift up to reveal more trays below, layer after layer. There were hundreds of tiny bottles. She also had all of the supplies needed to do professional manicures. The summer when we were twelve, 'Lou had taken a cosmetology class at Trenton Central and she's been building her color box ever since. I couldn't remember the last time Mary Lou had done my nails, but boy did they need doing. Explosions, target practice, and wrestling in a puddle of fast food, don't really do much for your cuticles. She ran her finger down the bottles, and chose for me a brilliant shade of blue that glittered under direct light. The only way to describe it would be outrageous. A woman would need a bit of moxie to wear this. It was perfect for the conversation we were about to have.

"Right, let's do this. Start talking." Mary Lou put my fingers in to soak as she finished gathering her tools.

"I'm not sure where to start because I don't completely understand what's happening to me. All I know is that I'm different. Something's changed."

"Ok, forget about the how or the when or the why and explain to me what has changed."

"Me. The way I feel."

"How do you feel?"

"Different. Strong, powerful. Actually, I think I feel less than I used to. Less insecurity. Less guilt. Less anger, less stress, less worry. Less fear. Added all together, I feel better. Much better. I feel...ready."

"Ready for what?"

"I don't know."

She took a long, hard look at me. "You look better."

I sighed when I smiled. "The problem is that I don't know what 'better' means. I feel different in a good way. So what?"

"Well, think about it. What do you want? You feel ready. You feel strong. So what are you going to do about it?"

I sat back and thought about the question. It was a good one. Once I really started to think though, it was easy. Deep down I've always known what I wanted. I was just too scared to go after it, or felt too guilty to accept it, or was too stubborn to admit it. Mary Lou drank her beer and waited patiently for my answer.

"I'm going back to Vinnie's."

She wore a big grin that said, 'I knew it.' But all she actually said was, "Good, what else?"

"I'm not quitting RangeMan."

She nodded. "And?"

"Well if I'm going to be working for both Vinnie and Ranger, then I need to get in shape."

She started working on my right hand. "Giving up the sugar is a good start."

"I'll start running." This received some raised eyebrows and a doubtful look form Mary Lou. "I will. And I'll join a gym. I'll get Val a membership too. She's been really stressed and unhappy about the weight she gained when she was pregnant. If I have someone else with me I'll be more disciplined about exercising."

"There's a new women's gym that opened on State Street. If you join there you can count me in too." I gave her a disbelieving smirk. "What? Exercise can't hurt. Besides, I'll get to watch you morph into a super-badass." That had us laughing. "Ok, so you're going back to Vinnie and joining a gym. What else?"

I thought for a few more minutes, and didn't like the conclusion I came to. "I might as well go whole hog and start eating healthier too." I couldn't hide my grimace when I said it.

"Don't go crazy now. Just start with the sugar thing. Then over time I'll help you learn how to cook some simple meals that make great leftovers. You'd be surprised how much healthier you'd be if you cooked for yourself a few times a week instead of eating at Pino's on an almost daily basis. And don't freak out, I'm not going to turn you into your mother. There's just no reason you shouldn't be able to make chicken and rice for yourself. You have to grow up some time Steph. You can't eat at your parents' for the rest of your life."

"I guess that sounds do-able. Plus, I'll be eating healthier lunches at RangeMan. Combined with the sugar issue, I'll be eating better than I ever have before now."

"What else?"

"Self-defense. I'll take some classes and I'll force Lula to take them too. If she's going to ride with me, I need her to be safe."

Mary Lou stopped working to face me with a serious expression. "Good. You should have done that a long time ago. That goes for Lula too."

"I know. I'll do it first thing tomorrow. Since I don't have to work I'll join the gym too. And I'll buy some real food for myself. I think if I put this stuff off too long I might never do it."

She nodded, switching to my left hand. "Okay. What else?"

"Security."

"Thank god! Finally!" She rolled her eyes.

"I should probably move, but I love my apartment. I'll get motion detectors and a security bar. And if I get another car I'll have Ranger's mechanic make it bomb safe."

"Good. I'm glad. I can't tell you what it's like every time I hear that something of yours has exploded. I think I might worry over you more than I do over my boys."

Why hello, Guilt, long time no see. "God, I'm sorry."

"Shut up Steph. You'd worry about me too if you heard someone had firebombed my house. That's what you do when you love someone. You care about their safety and their life. It's nothing to apologize for. I mean what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't worry?"

"Thanks Mare." I looked at her over our hands. "You always know what to say."

"Again, what are friends for?"

"The 'shut up' may have been a bit much..."

"Shut up Steph!" We were laughing again, almost giggling. No more beer for Mary Lou. "So, what else?"

"I'm going to start training with my gun at Sunny's. RangeMan has a gun range that I'm required to use regularly, but I think some independent practice might be a good idea. Those Rangemen can be intimidating sometimes. Plus, everything in the building is monitored. I don't need anyone witnessing and recording my early struggles. I want to be comfortable with my gun. That's not going to happen with all those sexy mercenaries looking over my shoulder."

"Sounds reasonable Steph, but what about Ranger?"

"What about him?"

"Well, hasn't he been helping you all of this time? He seems to have taken quite the interest in you. And now he's even your boss. Isn't it going to bother him that you're doing this all on your own?"

"No. Why should it? He's probably going to have to help me with tons of things anyway, so he won't exactly be excluded. There are some things I'll have to learn from the Rangemen, like spotting tails and picking a lock. Besides, it's going to take a long time before I'm properly trained. Even then I'll need Ranger. I think he'll just be relieved that I'm finally doing something about my safety." Mary Lou nodded, but I could tell that she wasn't satisfied with my answer. She let it go anyway.

"Can I make a suggestion Steph?"

"Of course."

"You should go get a library card and start reading."

"What? Why should I start reading?"

"I think you need to start learning more about your job. You don't have any formal education or training, at least not in this field. So far you've just picked things up as you went along. And don't misunderstand me, Steph. It's unbelievable how far you've come and how much you've done, considering your complete inexperience when you were starting out. But that persistence can only take you so far if you don't have the knowledge to make it work. You should learn about the law and people's civil rights, and about your rights as a bounty hunter. Learn about police procedures and municipal regulations. It should help you avoid that defendant's chair you referred to earlier. Plus, you can learn about all kinds of other things: firearms, surveillance technology, the penal system, forensic science, crime scene analysis, criminal profiling, interrogation techniques, and lord knows what else. Most people who do your job have at least some sort of exposure to those things. Stephanie, I think if you had a fit body and a prepared mind, you'd be fucking unstoppable."

I could have cried. I hadn't realized how much support Mary Lou had always given me. I'd taken it for granted. Her honest and passionate vote of confidence caught me off guard. It was almost a repeat of the scene in the Explorer. I was overwhelmed by the concern and affection, by the open and unconditional acceptance of who I was, who I am, and who I want to be. Her words expelled what remained of my doubts, and those last jagged bits of uncertainty that I had been carrying around with me shifted and fell away. I felt lighter than air.

"I think I will stop at the library. You're right about not knowing as much as I should. I always get other people to help me with those things. I don't really know anything about that stuff. It would d be nice being able to do it on my own eventually. I'll start learning as much as I can, as soon as I can. I guess it's a good thing we have a couple of days off work." I laughed. "It's starting to look like once I go back I'm going to be freaking busy."

"Who's 'we' and why aren't you working?"

"After Stiva's Ranger told Hal, Tank, and I not to come to work for a few days. I love work, but I'm glad I got the chance to do this with you. I needed this break. And speaking of Tank, he called me this morning. No Rangeman ever calls me except for Ranger."

"What did he want?"

"I don't know. He left a message. I haven't called him back yet."

"So who's Tank again?" I retold all of my Tank stories and she remembered who I was talking about. Then I told her about what Tank and Hal had said to me in the Explorer about being worried about me. "He sounds great to me. Call him already." She stood and started packing up her color box. She waved me out of the room as she cleaned. "Go call him now while I straighten up."

I went out to sit on Mary Lou's porch and dialed Tank. He picked up almost immediately.

"Talk." So much for affected.

"Hi, Tank. It's Stephanie."

"Um, hello. Could you hold for a minute?" A few moments of silence followed. "Hello?"

"Hi, you called me?"

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you." Really, who'd a thunk it?

"Talk," I repeated his gretting back to him. I could hear a softly exhaled laugh at the other end and he sounded more relaxed.

"I'd like to speak in person. Do you have time tomorrow?"

"Yep. I have the day off work."

"What a coincidence." I could hear his smile.

"I'm meeting someone tomorrow at Barry's Coffees on State. If you stop by there at one we could grab lunch somewhere."

"I'll be there." He disconnected. I should double-check my contract with Rangeman. There might be some clause that disallows proper greetings and good-byes over the telephone. Maybe I'm in breech of contract? I hope not. I was expecting to score a ride in Brower's Continental at some point.

Mary Lou came out to the porch and sat next to me on the steps. She edged close to me and linked her arm with mine. "Steph, I know you've been doing some serious thinking. You want to talk to me about why?"

"No." Hell, I wasn't exactly sure myself.

"Fair enough," she conceded, "but I think you need to tell me what else is on your mind. I know we haven't covered it all yet."

"I just don't feel like thinking about it anymore."

"Then talk about it. You need to do it sooner or later. Joe isn't going to put this off, so you can't afford to either."

"I know, I know. It's just it was pretty ugly at the station last night. I don't want to hear it anymore. He gets more insulting by the minute. Why should I even talk to him at all? I'll just go get my things when he isn't home."

"You're moving out?"

I gave out a long, slow sigh. "I was never really moved in. I know everyone thinks I was, but it was just to help him with his leg. He was hit by my stalker, after all. And 'Lou, we've barely spent any time together in the past week. He was leaving me notes because we would go entire days and hardly speak to each other. I think I saw him more when we lived apart. That last night in his house, the night before Stiva's, we didn't sleep in the same room. And it didn't even really bother me that we weren't together. We weren't angry at each other, it's just that we didn't seem all that interested either."

"Well he's angry now, and he isn't going to feel any better when he hears that you're going back to Vinnie's."

"That's another thing I don't want to hear from him," I said, throwing my hands in the air. "He just can't seem to understand that I like my job and that it's important to me. I like working. He keeps trying to make me choose between work and him. It doesn't have anything to do with my safety, either. Even after I left Vinnie's he wouldn't stop. He still bothered me about RangeMan, where I just sit at a desk all day. He just wants me to quit work for him. He won't accept the fact that I'm not going to choose him over work."

"So are you leaving him for good? Is this final or are you simply avoiding the confrontation as usual?"

I thought about what she was actually asking. I could read between her lines. She wanted to know if I was serious about everything I had told her today or if I was just being a stubborn coward. All those other times when I was hurt by or pissed at Joe, I had thought that we were finished. Somehow, though, we always end up together again. So what made this different? Was this time different? Yes. It was. Simple as that. I didn't have to spend hours in my thinking position; I didn't need to "discuss" it with Joe. I wasn't going back to Vinnie's to antagonize him. I wasn't staying at RangeMan to be stubborn. This was about what I wanted. Joe would react to it the way Joe reacts to it. There was nothing I could say or do about that.

"No. I'm not ducking Joe. I would prefer to settle the Stiva case without world war three breaking out at the station, but I'm not going to run from Joe." I groaned, contemplating just how awful this situation had the potential to be. "He's infuriating. He's never going to change; so why should I? He's pressured me and manipulated me since I was six years old, and he's hurt me at almost every opportunity. I know I'm not exactly a saint either, but I'm not going to let him control me now because of what I might have put him through in the past. I won't let anyone control me." I shrugged and dipped my head slightly. "You're right about confrontation; I'll avoid it if I can, but I won't plan my day around where Joe will or will not be if that's what you're thinking."

"Have you thought about what you're going to tell him?"

I felt my smile start to grow. "Joe's really fond of ultimatums. I thought it might mix things up a bit this time around if I gave him one. I'll tell him about moving back to my apartment. I'll tell him about working at RangeMan and Vinnie's. And I'll tell him that he has two choices. He can either be a friend who accepts me, supports my decisions, and is glad that I'm doing what makes me happy, or he can fuck off." Of course even the thought of saying that to Joe had me on a slow and steady path to hyperventilation, but a girl can dream right? "I'd like to have a similar conversation with my mother, but I'm not sure I'm there yet. I'll have to work my way up to it." Especially since the thought of that conversation threatened a coronary.

Mary Lou turned to face me. She sat quietly, studying me. It was something new from her, but I'd become so used to it from other people that I didn't flinch. I watched her in return, waiting. I saw her eyes grow bright and her smile was so wide I thought her face might split in two. She launched herself at me and crushed me in a death-grip of a hug. We nearly toppled over and down the porch steps. She gave me a giant kiss and held me at arm's length to shine her smile on me again.

"It's good to see you again Steph!"

"What?"

"You've always been the most clueless and most modest person I've known. I'm not surprised you've never realized." I couldn't tell if that was supposed to be complimentary or not.

"Stephanie, do you have any idea what it's like to be around you?" She held me tight and dragged me to my feet. We were standing in front of each other and I had the strangest inckling that she wanted to grab me and spin us in circles.

"When we were young you were like a force of nature, raw energy. Nothing could ever stand in your way. It was impossible to be around you and not smile. No one could resist. You were like magic."

I stood like a deer in headlights. Mary Lou didn't ever talk like that. She watched me another moment and I could see she was mulling over something pretty serious.

"Over the years life has chipped away at all of that. I didn't realize it until just now. I should have noticed as soon as I saw you earlier." She shook her head a little sadly. "Life had been eating away at you so slowly that I never noticed the difference until it was too late. And even as a worn version of who you used to be, you were still always stronger than most people, still more amazing. I'm not sure what did it; college, the desk job, Dickie, you mother, the 'Burg gossip, then being laid off. It was probably the whole combination. Somewhere in there you faded. I was so excited for you when you started at Vinnie's. It made me nervous, but I thought it would be good for you. It gave you a boost. You become someone I almost recognized from an earlier time. But you were still fading in there somewhere. It was still the 'Burg gossip, your mother's pressure to settle down, Joe and the way you two would leave each other again and again, and those assholes down at the cop shop who can't keep their damn mouths shut."

'Lou reached out and held my hands tightly in hers. She had a light in her eyes that I'd never seen before in my entire life. "But Steph, you should see yourself now. I meant it earlier when I said you looked better, and I know what 'better' means." For a second I thought she might cry. "You look like the old Stephanie, the magical one I knew ten years ago. She was powerful, strong, and ready for anything. God Steph, I missed you! It's good to have you back!"

I sat stunned for a second. It took me a minute to absorb everything she'd just said.

Then I laughed. I laughed like I hadn't remembered laughing in years. Only Mary Lou. She spends a couple of hours with me and she has me all figured out. I love her.

"It's good to be back."

A/N: Thank you for reading! Despite this story's longevity, it's still a WIP. (I work on it when I can.) Please review.
[* Metallica - Fight Fire with Fire ]

** Many of my chapters, especially the later ones, contain various citations and footnotes. These are not essential to the story and can be easily disregarded, but I do feel that they enrich it (and I think they're fun). For example, music is an integral part of my writing process. When I write/edit/read my story it has a soundtrack in my head and I've decided to share that with any of my readers who are interested. I have no plans whatsoever to include song lyrics within the text or incorporate the music into the actual storylines, but at certain points there will be citation notes in the text refering the reader to the footnotes. Every song/poem/image/quote I reference is available at a site I've compiled strictly for that purpose and will share with anyone who is interested, just e-mail/message me for the link. **