[Author's Note: I did a re-write to Chapter 35 - The Quarterback, March 6, 2013. You'll want to re-read it before going on.]

When Ranger and I arrived at the door of my apartment, we were surprised to see Connie, Hank, Tank, and Lula all standing there, pinching their noses and gagging in the hallway. Then I got a good whiff, and I was bent over too, trying not to be sick.

"Oh my God!" I gasped. "It's as bad as Connie's."

"Worse," Ranger said, breathing through his mouth as he entered the apartment.

The door was open. Dillon, the building super, was inside. He was wearing a respirator and grinning at me.

"This is your most impressive stalker yet. I mean, I thought the guy who got blown up with a grenade took the cake, but we had to evacuate the entire third floor this time," Dillon told me, his voice nasal and hollow sounding from behind the respirator. "You need to press charges, or you're going to be stuck with the bill on this one."

My eyes were watering, and I was so glad Rex was safe and sound on Ranger's kitchen counter.

"I'll owe you a case of beer for this one," I told him, my eyes watering.

"Yeah, you will," Dillon agreed.

Ranger returned. "Whatever you've lost, I'll buy you a better replacement," he promised. "I think they'll just have to toss most of the apartment. He sprayed this noxious liquid on everything."

"Okay," I agreed. "Anything. Can we go now?" I asked, backing down the hall towards the elevator.

Connie and Lula were on my heels, followed by Anders. Tank and Ranger took the stairs.

Once the doors opened to the lobby, we all gasped for air.

"How did you guys know about this?" I asked Lula.

"I was spending some quality time with Tank when he got the call," she explained. "I called Connie and she was out with Hank. So we all met here."

"I'm sorry Lawrence ruined your night," I said to everyone.

Lula shrugged. "That's okay. Were the hell have you been all day? We've had huge news, and all calls went straight to voice mail."

"Oh, I didn't realize the ringer was turned off," I lied. I had spend the entire day without my purse, alone with Ranger. I could see why he was so glad to leave it behind.

"Steph! We quit Vinnie!" Connie shrieked, unable to hold it in any longer. "Hank and I were out celebrating!"

"What?" I gasped.

"Girl, you missed out. Tank came by and brought us each a box of Rangeman uniforms. He said we were all going into business together. Your business. And we could start decorating our new office right away. Tank and Ranger are our new partners. But you know that, right?"

"Right," I said. "I just didn't expect it to happen so fast," I said.

"Tank couldn't wait to tell us," Lula gushed. "He said it was best just to rip off the bandage without thinking about it."

I paused for a beat, assuming Lula had been to excited to really think that less-than-flattering reference all the way through.

"Speaking of bandages," Connie giggled, "We had Vinnie going with those fake scars."

Lula was doubled over again, laughing this time. "Connie made up a huge bill from the Mayo Clinic, and he thought we were suing him for exposing us to F. Emasculata, that horrible disease with exploding pustules from season 2 of the X-Files. He insisted on the doctor checking every square inch of him, twice, looking for any sign he's got boils," Lula laughed. "When he came back to the office, having figured out we were having him on, he started chewing us out for being gone for a few days while we were in Maine. So, we quit."

"Vinnie was fit to be tied," Connie said. "I just wish you had been there to see it! He turned every color imaginable by the time he was done."

"Sorry I missed it," I told them.

"We're really doing this, right?" Lula asked, still not quite sure she believed it.

"Can you handle wearing Rangeman black?" I asked.

"If it means spending more time with Tank, I can do that," she agreed. "It's not like I'm ever going to get discovered around here anyway. I mean, meeting Brenda got me thinking. Being famous isn't much of a long-term career. She didn't seem happy. And I'd miss you guys. I think maybe it's time for a new career goal."

"That's great," I said. "But, we have a lot of work to do before we are actually up and running," I said, throwing a wet blanket on Lula's enthusiasm.

"Not as much as you might think," Connie beamed. "After we quit, and Vinnie had an epileptic fit," she laughed, "I had a very interesting meeting with Rangeman's financial manager. We had a meeting of the minds. And guess what?"

"I can't guess," I said, feeling as breathless as Connie.

"I called Rogenbach and explained our situation, and about Wayne Brandt and Associates. And he's taking the case. He's going to represent you along with 20 other former EE Martin employees in a suit. He expects it to settle out of court, but it should give you investment capital," she squealed.

I was speechless. I just stared at her with my mouth hanging open.

"It was your idea," Connie said. "Oh, and Rogenbach also called that chick, Marla, that worked for Lawrence at East Coast Insurance. The one Lawrence called to get your phone number from, remember? She got his job and is the new Executive VP. Guess who is no longer black listed for full coverage insurance?"

"What?" I gasped.

"Yeah. EIC would be glad to have us as a corporate client as soon as we're ready to buy company vehicles."

"I can't believe it!" I said, hugging Connie.

"And now, Joyce is right where you wanted her!" Lula said, hugging us both. "She's in jail, her car's been impounded, she's had to put her house up for collateral once already to secure a bond. Now, even if she gets out again, she loses the house if she skips, and she might go to jail if she doesn't."

"What kind of charges are we talking about?" I asked, looking back to Connie.

"She's facing trespassing and violating a restraining order on Morelli's beef. Plus disturbing the peace and carrying concealed. That's if Morelli decides not to add resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer. You play your cards right, and Joe might throw the book at her."

"We're heading down to the station now," I said, crossing the lobby. "You don't need to come," I said. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"Say what?" Lula called after me. "You're crazy if you think we're not coming with you."

We all filed out into the parking lot.

I looked to Ranger as we slid into the Turbo. We were both doing a mental check list. My mission had been to deprive Joyce of her looks, her home, her car, and ultimately to have her tossed in jail. Without even having a plan to directly destroy Joyce, it appeared that this was in fact the outcome I had been hoping for.

The old Stephanie was feeling a little guilty. Finding out about Joyce's parents, about what a shit Morelli had been, and about Kevin, had kind of made me feel like a heel. But, as the new Stephanie pointed out, Joyce hadn't warned me about Morelli's Choo-Choo money-making side-show. She had still done all of the things that had made me so angry in the first place, with no just cause other than jealousy and resentment, which was not my fault. And chances were good that nothing was going to change if I quit my mission now. Not an option, especially since she'd tried to make Morelli husband number eight. She had no doubt intended to chew him up and spit him out, as soon as she had proven to him that he really did want her after all.

I considered Ranger's advice. I needed to think outside the box. What did I really want from Joyce? Did I want her to suffer? Did I want an apology? Did I want to be friends? I thought about it for a beat.

"Babe?" he asked, as if he smelled something burning.

"I'm trying to think outside the box," I told him. "I'm just not sure what that means in this case."

"You were angry when you started this," he said. "But revenge doesn't really suit you."

"I just want her to stop making my life a living hell," I said. "I have to admit, I had it much better than Joyce growing up. I have parents who love me and provided a stable home. I had good friends like Mary Lou. It seemed like I married well when I was with Dickie. She seems to have been jealous of my relationship with Morelli. And now, won't she be jealous I have you?" I reached out and squeezed his hand. "I can wish good things for Joyce, but I can't make any of it happen. How can I make her feel like she has self worth?"

"No one can do that for someone else," he said. "Joyce has to discover her personal value for herself."

"Can I provide her with an opportunity to discover something good about herself?" I wondered.

"You can try, but I wouldn't trust her," Ranger cautioned. "She isn't going to change overnight."

"What's good about Joyce?" I mused. "I mean, she must have some good qualities, right?"

"She knows how to motivate a man," Ranger said.

"Yeah. Too bad she always uses that power for evil," I agreed.

We pulled into the cop shop, and got out. Ranger beeped the Turbo alarm on, and crooked his arm around my shoulders.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No," I answered truthfully.

"Just be yourself," he advised.

"Right, because that's been working so well up till now," I said, giving him attitude.

"It's always worked," he said, boosting my confidence just a little. He believed in me.

I had been so worried about Joyce, I completely forgot about Morelli and Ranger facing off for the first time after Ranger learned about the choo-choo incident. But when we swung through the door and I saw the color drain from Morelli's face, I knew Ranger's expression had to be the reason. I didn't dare to look.

Joe's eyes took in Ranger's possessive stance. He didn't seem surprised.

"Ranger," he said, icily acknowledging the presence of another alpha male in his vicinity.

"Morelli," Ranger responded, letting him know he had something of a serious nature on his mind.

"Steph, I need to know if you intend to press charges against Grant Lawrence for vandalism and breaking and entering."

I looked to Ranger and then back to Joe, and blew out a sigh. "I don't know," I said.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" Joe asked.

"Who, me?" I asked sheepishly.

"Wow," Joe said, doing a mental eye roll. "When Lawrence told me you put THE EYE on him and got him fired, I didn't believe it."

"You always said there's no such thing as THE EYE," I reminded him.

"Just because I don't believe in magic curses doesn't mean I don't believe in sneaky, underhanded women with too much time on their hands," he said. "I know damn good and well that Connie doesn't just sit behind that desk filing her nails all day without cooking up some serious shenanigans. And she's been rubbing off on you."

At that moment, Connie and Hank arrived, followed by Tank and Lula.

"Great," Joe sighed. "The gang's all here," he said, as if now convinced Lawrence had indeed been telling the truth.

"Yeah? Well, you're not exactly know for being honest and true, are you, Joe?" I blurted out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"I mean, I just found out about a certain bet you made with your brothers a few years ago. A bet that involved me and Joyce and a train," I said pointedly.

"What?" Joe's face paled again, going from red to chalky white as he avoided Ranger's glare.

"I've been trying to figure out why Joyce hates me so much. And guess what I came up with?"

"Yeah," Morelli nodded, as if he'd heard this story recently, from Joyce. "Well, I didn't care for her then, and I certainly don't care for her now," he told me.

"You did a lot of damage to that woman, Joe," I told him seriously. "A kind word from you right now could go a very long way to repairing the damage."

Joe stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Hank and Connie and Lula were matching his bewildered expression. Only Ranger and Tank were impassive, their faces blank.

Joe shook his head as if to clear it. "Look, I just need a yes or no on Lawrence. Are you pressing charges or not?"

I looked to Ranger. "Your call, Babe," he said.

"Can I talk to him before I decide?" I asked.

Joe nodded. "This way," he said, leading us to the cages. Ranger was going with me. The rest were waiting in the lobby.

Minutes later, I was sitting in an interrogation room, face to face with Grant Lawrence. Joe and Ranger were standing behind me, looking intimidating.

Lawrence had been unable to post bail. Vinnie was glad to have him back in the system and wasn't offering to spring him again. It looked like he would be a guest of the city until his hearing for firing a gun in public.

"How does it feel to have someone put THE EYE on you?" he asked me, trying to creep me out. His haystack of brittle hair and his face still recovering from his recent acne out-break made him look rather juvenile rather than intimidating.

"I removed THE EYE when you apologized," I told him. "If I apologize to you, are you going to remove THE EYE from my apartment?" I asked.

"I don't know how you did it, but I know it was a trick."

"You don't believe in curses?" I asked.

"No. And I'm not giving you want you asked for, either."

"I know. That's okay. I found out what I wanted to know."

"Really? You know why Joyce hates you so much?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes. I know why she hates me. The question is, what to do about it."

"Believe me, if she hates you half as much as I do, there's nothing you can do about it," he snarled.

"Why are you so angry with me? You brought this all on yourself," I reminded him. "I asked you nicely for help. You were hateful and unkind. Just like you were when you blacklisted me without taking into account my side of the story. Those accidents weren't my fault, and you know it."

"What I know is, you're out of luck getting it reversed now that you've got me fired. Ever think of that?"

"Yes. And, as it turned out, replacing you with Marla was just the ticket," I said, smiling at him.

"Marla?" he spat. "What does that mean?"

"Marla's the new Executive Vice President of EIC. She was quite sympathetic when my attorney spoke with her earlier today," I told him.

"Your attorney?" he gasped.

"Yes, maybe you've heard of him. David Rogenbach?"

Lawrence sputtered. "Joyce's second husband is helping you?"

"Sure," I told him. "He was glad to. You see, most of her ex-husbands were glad to do what they could to help me when I asked nice."

"What? You really went after us all?"

"All seven," I confirmed.

"Seven?" he gasped. "Seven?"

I stood to go. "You know, if you would have asked nicely, I would have dropped the charges," I told him as I stood to leave. "But since you hate me so much, I guess you wouldn't appreciate the gesture anyway. Maybe you'll have time to learn some manners while you're in prison."

Lawrence's mouth was hanging open as I walked out the door.

"So, we're pressing charges?" Joe asked.

"I think he needs some rehabilitation. Or at least, anger management classes," I told him. "And Dillon is due restitution for the damage to the apartment."

"Did you damage his home?" Joe asked.

"Not one bit," I answered, assuming it was the truth. "Check it out for yourself."

"I think I will," he said, studying me.

"Can I see Joyce now?" I asked.

"Why?"

"I need to talk to her for a minute. Please?"

"Fine, but you're on your own in there."

Five minutes later, Lawrence was back in his cell and Joyce was sitting in the interrogation room. Ranger and Joe were watching from behind the one-way mirror as I entered alone.

"What's going on?" Joyce growled. "I don't remember asking for visitors."

"Surprise. You didn't have to," I said, going for friendly.

Joyce was a mess. She had been forced to wash her face clean of make up. He face was blotchy and she had deep wrinkles crossing her forehead and small wrinkles around her eyes. Her hair was without enhancement, and apparently without conditioner. It was frizzy and unkempt. She was wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, no other jewelry.

"Unless you're here to post bail, it's time for you to leave," she warned.

"I'm here to ask you why you hate me so much. I thought at first that you were in love with Joe. But, then, I got to thinking that you don't love any man. You think all men are scum. So, why the interest in Joe?"

"Why? Want him back?"

"No."

"Last I heard, you were hot and heavy with Ranger."

"You could say that."

"I did say that," Joyce crooned. "The only thing you ever did that I approved of was two-timing Morelli with that hard body."

"I wasn't two-timing Morelli."

"Yeah, right."

"We had agreed to see other people," I said earnestly.

"Admit it. You just couldn't hang onto Morelli."

"You know something, Joyce? Ever since I walked into my dining room and found you with Dickie, I've felt like I would never be able to trust again. I felt like trying to pursue that dream was useless. I believed you when you warned me that I wouldn't be able to keep Joe. And I admit, it played a large part in my inability to commit to him, let alone to marry him. And I want to thank you for that." I didn't even know where the words were coming from, but there they were, out in the open.

"You're thanking me?" she laughed.

"Yes. I'm thanking you, Joyce. Thank you for saving me from Dickie. Thank you for making my time with Joe so uncomfortable. If you hadn't, I might not have given Ranger a chance."

"You're thanking me?" she repeated, her laughter dying in her throat.

"I love Ranger. And I've married him."

Joyce stared at me, eyes growing wide.

"You married Batman?"

"Wonder Woman married Batman. Film at eleven," I said, nodding.

"When?"

"Today."

Joyce grinned. "You're here, when you could be in bed with the Cuban sex god? You really are stupid," she laughed weakly. She was clearly jealous.

"I'm here because I want this bitterness between us to stop. I want it put to rest. I never did anything with the intention of hurting you. If you need an apology from me, fine. I apologize to you, Joyce. I'm sorry your life has been so unhappy. I'm sorry you've been so hurt and so dissatisfied. But it's time for you to forgive, and stop living in this bitterness. You have talents and so much going for you. Can't you embrace life and give other people a chance to be your friend?"

"You want to be friends?" she asked, mocking me.

"No, not us. Other people. Someone else," I said, waiving that idea away.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because, if you do, I'll talk to Morelli about dropping the charges against you."

"You'd do that?" she asked, paying attention now.

"Yes. What do you say? Want to bury the hatchet and start fresh? You're never going to get a better offer."

"Sure," she said, throwing her hands up. "Why not?"

"One more thing," I said. "Men are not just scrotum and ego."

"Yes, they are," she laughed, as if I were truly naive.

"Joyce. I'm telling you, they aren't. Joe is a good man. He's made mistakes in the past, but he's grown up. He's mature, and responsible, and he has deep feelings. And I know you do too. We all do."

"What about Dickie?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "You going to tell me Dickie has deep feelings that deserve respect?"

I laughed. "Yeah, okay, almost everyone."

Joyce smiled. "Okay. Get me out of here, and we'll let by-gone's be by-gone's," she agreed.

"Okay," I said, holding out my hand. "Shake on it."

Joyce's lip quirked. "Fine," she said, shaking my hand awkwardly with the handcuffs on. "Now, get me out of here. I need a long, hot shower and a stiff drink," she complained.

"I'll see what I can do," I said, heading for the door.

I met Joe and Ranger in the hall.

"You're married?" Joe asked, the hurt in his voice unmistakable.

"Yes," I told him, thinking it was best to rip the bandage off right away without thinking about it.

"And, now you want me to drop my charges? How is that fair?" Joe asked.

"I didn't ask you to apologize, so I think it's more than fair," I told him, anger registering in my voice. "Get her released."

"Fine," he growled, stomping off down the hall.

Ranger put his arms around me. "Babe," he said, his voice wavering in warning that I was playing with fire where Joe was concerned.

"I know what I'm doing," I told him.

"You know she's not really over it," he said.

"I know. She's just playing me."

"Then, why are you doing it? I thought you said no more. There would be no next time."

"That was before I knew the reason why. This is my final gesture. After this, she's on her own, and my conscience is clear."

"So, in your mind, this makes you even?"

"Yes. Joe got us into this mess, and Joe's getting us out," I said. It made sense in my mind, even if no one else could see it.

"Okay," he said, resigned to see how this was going to play out.

Twenty minutes later, we were all sipping coffee as Joyce came ambling down the hall towards us. She stopped short when she saw Hank Anders with his arm around Connie.

"What the fuck?" she growled. "It's you! All this time, you're the sneaking little back-stabber who's been messing with my ex-husbands! You're Anita!" she shrieked, making a dive for Connie.

Hank cut her off, pushing Joyce back.

"Joyce, is that you?" he asked, dismayed. Clearly he'd never seen her without her makeup on before. "You look like shit," he told her.

"Yeah? You want to see scary? Just wait till I get hold of your girlfriend," she hissed.

"Connie isn't the one who's been stalking you, you crazy broad," Hank bellowed.

"I've got eyes," she growled.

"You ain't got any brains, though. It's Jeanne Ellen, Trenton's best bounty hunter, that's been stalking you," he told her, jerking his thumb in my direction.

Connie's hand flew to her mouth and she shot me a look. She'd never set Hank straight about my true identity.

"I'll kill her," Joyce said, flying into a rage.

I braced for impact, surprised when Joyce went tearing down the hall past me. I turned just in time to see Joyce launch herself at Jeanne Ellen Burrows, who was standing in front of the receiving desk. Jeanne Ellen was dragging in a cuffed, drunk, and ridiculously belligerent Jesus Rodriguez. Last time I saw his name, Ranger had brought him in on $500,000 bond. Jesus went rigid when he saw Ranger smiling at him, no doubt remembering the jail term that followed their last meeting.

Joyce and Jeanne Ellen went down to the floor flailing and screaming. Tank grabbed Rodriguez and dragged him down the hall towards the processing clerk. There were no cops around when we needed one, so we all just stood there dumbfounded while the cat fight of the century went on and on. What started with bitch slapping and hair pulling ended up with faces being slammed into the floor, clothing being torn apart, and elbows being jammed into places elbows don't belong. I had to look away several times. They were both going to fair far worse than I had when Razzle Dazzle had done a number on me.

Finally, Tank returned, and he and Ranger separated what was left of the women. Morelli and the processing clerk rolled their eyes as they cuffed the ladies and hauled them back down the hall for processing.

"That went well," Connie laughed nervously.

"What happened?" Hank asked.

"This is Stephanie Plum," Connie told Hank, introducing us yet again.

"You told me your name was Jeanne Ellen," he said, looking confused.

"Sorry," I shrugged.

"This is the Stephanie you're going into business with?" Hank asked Connie, looking surprised.

"Yep," she said, blowing out a sigh.

"God help us," he groaned.