This story started out as a one-shot and now it's up to six chapters, per your request.
Thank you so much for your kind reviews, you made this happen.
This fic is based on and inspired by la bambina
Disclaimer: As per usual, I don't own anything, I'm just having fun with JE's characters
Raiting: K, T, whatever. No smut. The f-word though…
Who Says You Can't Go Home?
6
"Who says you can't go home?
There's only one
place they call me one of their own
Just a hometown boy, born a
rolling-stone, who says you can't go home"
"I think we may have some time before Bob really needs to walk." Joe said. I knew it!
After that kiss, I couldn't wait to get Morelli's clothes off either.
Morelli broke pretty much all traffic laws, he flew home to Slater. It was a good thing riding with a cop in his car, because even if there were patrols around, they all new his car and wouldn't pull him over. I'd have to remember to have him pick me up the next time I was late for dinner at my parents', I thought.
We were at Morelli's house in record time, and Bob was kind of surprised to see us again. He gave us a half-hearted welcome and turned back to his bed. Morelli threw his keys on the kitchen counter and pulled me towards him. He kissed me, with lots of tongue and lots of wandering hands and we never even made it upstairs. His hands were under my shirt and my bra came undone as if by magic.
He nudged me into the living room, never breaking the kiss. I fell backwards onto the couch and pulled his shirt free out of his jeans. Within a minute, there was not a stitch of fabric left on either of us.
We were lying on the couch, catching our breath; Morelli was running his fingers through my hair. "Now that's what I call a lunch break." He said and smiled. He had a point. Only I was still hungry, this time for food.
"We could just stay here…" Morelli suggested when he got up. I sighed. That sounded nice. "I'd love to," I said, "But I have more work to do."
Morelli searched in the big pile for his clothes and turned to go upstairs. "I'll take a shower. Care to join me?" He asked, his eyebrows dancing. That man's libido was insatiable! I waved him off and went into the kitchen. I needed food before anything else.
I made myself a peanut butter and olive sandwich and shared it with Bob. Morelli came back downstairs in a fresh shirt and helped himself to a bag of chips.
"Do you want to come along for more?" I asked him. Since I didn't have my car with me, he would have at lest give me a ride to my apartment.
"Sure," He said, "It's fun!" I shook my head and grabbed a soda out of the fridge. "Fun is not what I would call it," I said, "So far today, I've gotten shot at, but I haven't rolled on the ground or torn my jeans yet. So on the regular-day scale today is a 5. But I still have some FTA's left." I knew from experience that it could have been worse so far, but the day wasn't over.
Morelli nodded, munching on his chips. "Okay, I'm in. But we're splitting the reward, right?"
I looked up from the file I was studying to protest, and Morelli winked at me. "Gotcha!" He said and his face spit into a boyish grin. I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide my own smile.
"So, who's next?" he asked, pushing himself off the counter and peeking over my shoulder. "Pedro Martinez," He read off the file, "The Mets must not pay so well." He chuckled.
I turned my head to face him. "Huh?"
"Never mind," Joe said, "Guy joke. What's he wanted for?"
"Assault with a deadly weapon…he got drunk at O'Reilly's pub and when the bar tender refused to serve him more, he pulled out his knife." I looked at Martinez' picture, "He looks creepy." I remarked. Martinez was clearly Latino, with long black hair and dark eyes, his skin a little lighter than Ranger's. He was 47 according to the file and he looked it. But there was something in his eyes that I didn't like, although I couldn't put my finger on what it was.
"Guess he's next." I said half-heartedly and finished my soda. "Let's go," Joe agreed and balled his empty chips bag up, "But if he picks up a ball and aims, duck." He said and smirked. I had no idea what he was talking about, probably another guy joke.
Morelli was in a fine mood when we got back to the car. Nothing like a nooner to put the spring in a guy's step I figured. Well actually, it had put me in a pretty good mood, too.
"Martinez lives off Comstock, we may need your Kojak light," I said to Morelli when we buckled in.
I was only half-kidding, I thought his strobe light could really help us, but Morelli just gave me a look. "It's my day off." He said and I rolled my eyes. "Killjoy." I teased him.
When we got to Comstock I instinctively crouched down in my seat. I really didn't want to be seen. There were still gangs on Comstock, and a gang member may remember me from a while back. That could start a chain reaction that I'd rather avoid. I didn't see anyone, and technically we weren't on the 'risky' blocks yet, but I wasn't driving, so I could hide.
Morelli turned onto Lyman Street and I told him the house number. Martinez lived in a three-story red brick apartment building. Three concrete steps led up to the front door and sat flush with the sidewalk. Windblown trash was everywhere and no one had bothered with brightening the place up with plants or flowers.
I sighed and looked at the file to memorize Martinez' face and his apartment number. Morelli looked up at the building through the windshield.
"Want me to come with?" He asked. Here was the thing; I really did want him to come along. But my pride wouldn't let me. What if he'd never shut up about how I needed his help to do my job?
"No, I got it. I'll call you if I need help." I said and armed myself with pepper spray, my cell phone and Morelli's cuffs.
I could tell that Morelli really wanted to come along and I knew I was being stupid, but I had to do this. I left the car and took the steps up. Martinez lived on the second floor, and the building had no elevator.
When I entered the first floor hallway, I almost gagged at the stench that hit me. Garbage bags were piled in front of every apartment door, most were closed, but some had spilled open. The result was a tear-inducing smell of decay. I fought back the urge to gag and climbed the stairs.
Before I rang the bell, I made sure my stun gun was on and the cuffs were easy to grab. There was no answer to the first two times I rang the bell, but I was sure I heard movement behind the door, so I tried again.
"Go away!" I finally heard out of Martinez' apartment. Now I had two choices. I could give him my bounty hunter spiel through the closed door and practically guarantee he wouldn't open. Or I could go with a fib.
"Delivery for Mr. Martinez," I said, and I sounded quite convincing to myself. Sure enough, the door opened a crack and I wedged my foot through it before Martinez had even said "What the fuck?"
"I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds and you're in violation of your bond agreement. I have authorization to…" I didn't get any further, because Martinez yanked the door open and stormed out of the apartment and straight into me. He bent at the waist, lowered his head, and pushed. I flew backwards and had the time to think 'Shit' before my fall was broken softly.
Martinez ran past me and down the stairs, with me screaming after him. I took a look around to find out what had stopped my fall, and this time, I couldn't avoid gagging.
I had landed in a pile of garbage bags that had spilled open upon impact, its contents clinging to me. I had noodles in my hair and pasta sauce on my shirt. I chose not to identify the rest of the crap.
It took me a while to get back to my feet because I kept slipping on slimy garbage, but I finally managed and trundled downstairs. I knew Martinez was long gone so I was in no rush. I had almost made it to the front door when Morelli barreled in and we collided in the hall. I was knocked onto my ass for the second time in five minutes.
"Fuck!" Morelli exclaimed. I was too busy trying to get back to my feet to look at him. Now I glanced over and started laughing. When we collided, I had shared all the slime and gunk with Morelli, we both looked like we had bathed in goo.
"Eh, just a day in the life of Stephanie Plum." I said and smiled at him.
TBC
A/N: Do you think Morelli has had enough of experiencing Steph's job live and in color??