Usual disclaimers. Not mine (I wish) I'm just having a little fun, and promise to return them in their original boxes when finished.

7) Three Generals and a Funeral

"Babe."

I just about jumped out of my skin. I turned around and glared at Ranger.

"Jeez, Ranger, stop sneaking up on me like that. You're going to give me a heart attack."

"You're in the right place for it."

The "right place" was the main viewing room at a funeral home on Hamilton in the Burg. I didn't know the late whomever. I was only there because my Grandma Mazur wanted to be here. Not that she knew the guy, either. Grandma Mazur just likes to go to wakes and viewings, and then she critiques them (she likes this funeral home because they serve great cookies).

I met Ranger at my cousin Vinnie's bond agency, and I'm not talking about bonds as in stocks and bonds. Were both bail bond enforcement agents, or bounty hunters, for Vinnie. But we're on totally different levels. When a shoplifter or a drunk and disorderly doesn't make their court date, they send me, Stephanie Plum, rank amateur. When someone skips bond for say, armed robbery or homicide, they send Ranger.

"What are you doing here?" Ranger was all in black, but in a suit and tie, not his usual (and very sexy) SWAT gear.

"Mike was a consultant of mine. Ex-Air Force, knew lots about electronic security. Good guy." Hmm, high praise from the taciturn Ranger. He nodded at the entrance to the viewing room.

"I haven't seen so much brass in one room since the last time I was on the shooting range," said Ranger.

I turned to look at the new arrivals. Three older guys in uniform, with all sorts of medals and colorful bars. One was short and bald, and looked like everyone's favorite grandpa. One was a bit taller, with graying dark hair. The tallest had silver hair, but wasn't bad looking for an older guy. (stop that Stephanie, stop. Like I don't have enough guy problems with both Ranger and Joe Morelli in my life)

"So, O'Neill made general." Ranger seemed to think that was amusing. Seeing my confused face, he added, "The tallest one."

"Why, shouldn't he be a general?"

"Oh, he's good. I worked with him once. It's just that he was always a bit weak in the sucking up to superiors department."

"How did you meet...," I stopped. "Let me guess, if you told me, you'd have to shoot me."

"Something like that," agreed Ranger. Ranger cracked one of his almost-smiles.

"Hey, Babe, your grandmother is groping the two star."

Oh, God. A general has to be like, I don't know, government property. Groping one had to be against the law. I sped across the room to save the poor guy. I pushed my way through the throng, getting some dirty looks along the way. Gossip is the main product of Trenton's Burg; I knew I was going to get a call from my mother tomorrow. She'd lecture me on proper manners at a wake. But I had the ultimate argument in my corner; I was trying to stop another Grandma Mazur disaster.

But by the time I got there, my grandmother had stopped feeling up the short, bald guy, and was now in another part of the room, talking to the dark-haired officer. He looking trapped, and like he would rather be in a gunfight than try to fend off Grandma Mazur's advances. The other officers had gone to the front of the room to talk to the deceased's family. I slowed down, and reached Grandma just as the other two officers rejoined their companion. He looked relieved; I couldn't blame him.

"Grandma, it's time to go." Grandma pouted, she was having fun trying to pick up officers at a wake. God, my life is beyond strange. "Mom said she was going to make pineapple upside-down cake," I wheedled.

"Here that, Hank?" she addressed the officer. "Want to come home with us? My daughter learned everything about cooking from me. And I can cook in other rooms than the kitchen, if you get my meaning."

"Hank" looked terrified. The bald officer had the slightest trace of a smile on his face. The tall guy looked like the only thing that was keeping him from guffawing was the fact we were in a funeral home.

"Ma'am, that's very kind of you, but I have to fly back to my base tonight. Duty calls, and all that."

"Well, ain't that a disappointment. If you're ever back in Trenton, give me a call," said Grandma Mazur.

"I'll be sure to do that," said Hank. I'll give him points for politeness; he actually sounded like he meant it.

"Come on, Grandma." I gently grabbed her arm and pulled her away. As we walked away, I could hear Hank say, "You set her on me, George, didn't you?"

"Maybe," agreed one of the other guys, the bald one I presume.

"Why?"

"Saigon, February, 1971," was the response.

"You aren't ever gonna let that go, are you?"

"No, Hank. I don't think I will."

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The last few lines were inspired by stories my husband tells about his father's days in the Navy during WWII. When they weren't fighting for their lives in the Pacific theater, my late father-in-law and a guy named Bailey spent their spare time concocting wild practical jokes to play on each other. I leave it to the reader's imagination to decide what a young Landry did to a young Hammond...

X with Janet Evanovich's very funny Stephanie Plum books. OK, they aren't science fiction, but I love them. I'll warn you, if you are easily offended by bad language, these books are not for you. But if you are not bothered by swearing, give them a chance.

Maybe one of these days I'll write a full-length Stargate meets Stephanie Plum story. But the SGC might decide that hanging around Stephanie is more dangerous that fighting the combined forces of the System Lords and the Ori. (how many cars have exploded on her? I've lost count...)