Somewhere in an A/U. Characters belong to Janet Evanovich; I'm just playing, not making any money on this project (sadly).

Babe story; HEA; smut alert and graphic language ahead, so be warned.

Chapter 55

Have you ever noticed that sometimes Life just isn't fair? On Monday I'd been desperately trying to be on time to work, to no avail. Today I was doing just the opposite: trying my damnedest to be late so as to tick my hated nemesis Mrs. Lebowitz off one last time. And try as I might, nothing was working!

I'd been far too excited to sleep, tossing and turning for hours. So at dawn I'd finally given up the struggle and climbed out of bed. Taking a long leisurely shower that would have turned me pruney if I'd extended it any more still left me with plenty of time before I had to leave. So, desperately, I changed clothes not once, not twice, but three times in my seemingly fruitless bid to be late! Nope. No luck. I was still running early. Way early.

Even my hair, which had an annoying habit of turning scary at a moment's notice, was--naturally--on its best behavior this morning, falling into soft ringlets over my shoulders. I needed a minimum of makeup today, as well: I was on such a natural high that it made cosmetics all but unnecessary. Except of course for my trusty mascara--which I layered on generously--and my Passionately Pink lipstick. Shit. Now what could I do?

Honestly, there are just a limited number of ways to kill time in the morning; I'd pretty much exhausted them all by this point. I checked and re-checked the batteries in my cassette recorder (the audio component of my audio-visual Mrs. Lebowitz double knock-out punch). Just a little FYI: you really can find anything on the net these days! And I'd known exactly what I was looking for in order to make my resignation truly memorable. One for the ages, you might say! That it would be, no doubt in my mind.

Grabbing the phone, I called Mary Lou to confirm that she hadn't changed her plans for the day. Nope: she was still planning to visit EE Martin to witness the extravaganza I'd planned for my swan song. And I meant 'song' in the literal sense! My long-time friend was beyond excited, and we giggled like fools imagining what the day would hold for my unwitting soon-to-be-ex-boss. Damn! I really would hate to piss me off: I can be truly imaginative when it comes to seeking revenge!

Finally, other than reading War and Peace to a still-sleeping Rex, I was pretty much out of ideas on how to waste time by this point. So I bit-the-bullet as it were, and decided to leave the apartment.

A stop at the Tasty Pastry was next on this morning's agenda. I muttered in disbelief as I scored an impossibly perfect parking spot directly in front of the bakery, and walked in to find myself waited on in mere minutes! Good God! Was everyone on the planet in on the dastardly plan to make me on-time for work? It certainly seemed that way to me!

Nothing if not determined, I tried to fritter away some time by delaying my order and communing with the calorie-laden sweets that were in abundance all around me. But before long I found myself trudging to my car carrying two shopping bags with 3 dozen donuts, a dozen brownies, and a day-old 'Happy Birthday, Ted!' birthday cake that I had impulsively added to my order. Well, Ted no doubt hadn't had himself a very happy day--how could he, without cake?--but I was going to make up for that by celebrating my last day as an EE Martin employee with a birthday cake breakfast! Yum, yum! Did I mention, I love birthday cake??

I was still cherishing high hopes of getting ensnarled in a long traffic jam, whether through an accident (to someone else, hopefully) or as a result of one of those much-dreaded 'road construction projects'. But no! Even the Traffic Gods were against me: I caught every green light in Trenton and was on my way to Newark in record time. Yeesh! You really can't win for losing sometimes!

Motoring my POS car into the EE Martin parking lot, I passed a nondescript van that still somehow managed to set my spidey senses humming. I carefully swung around it, taking careful notice of the average-looking sandy-haired man sitting behind the wheel. He stared at me; I stared right back at him. He looked away first. That's right, that's right! Never mess with a Jersey Girl, buster! Particularly not this Jersey Girl!

Pulling into a parking spot a few spots down from the van, I opened my handbag and whipped out my cell phone, as planned. "Hey, Tina, it's the Bakery Fairy! I'm downstairs! Is you-know-who anywhere around?"

"Nope! Because you're not late yet, Stevie!" Tina whined, "I thought you said you were going to be late!"

"It wasn't as easy as it sounded," I sighed miserably, "I guess I could always climb into the back seat and take a nap. But honestly, Tina, I have all this sugar here! And I'm afraid if I get too close to it, I'm going to end up eating it all myself--"

"You need help carrying it in? I can come out--"

I looked around and considered the matter carefully, "Nah. They're in shopping bags; I can manage it all. Expect me in like 10 minutes or so, Tina. I'll stall as much as I can. Bye!"

A sudden knock at my car window--which was thankfully rolled up--startled me so much that I dropped the phone out of my lap and into the well of the passenger's side seat. Looking around, I saw that it was the man from the van, now standing imposingly at my driver's side door. Shaking my head, I refused his clear gesture to roll down my window--what, did I look stupid? Instead, I retrieved my phone and remained seated in the locked car with my cell phone now clutched tightly in my hand.

The knock sounded again, and the man looked irritated. "Look, Miss, I just want a few words with you."

"I'm calling the police," I threatened, waving my phone at him.

"Don't bother," he shook his head, his face expressionless. He opened his black suit jacket. I thought for a heart-stopping minute that he was going for a gun. This was a novel way to be late, and one I wasn't exactly prepared for! Instead, he pulled out a leather wallet and laid it open against my car window. "Lawrence McEntyre. FBI. I only want a few minutes of your time, Miss Plum." The badge stayed in place for a few minutes, allowing me time to check his credentials.

SHIT! The guy was FBI? And even scarier, he knew my name?

I could clearly hear my mother's screechy voice in my head: 'Why me? Alicia Mastroantonio's daughter doesn't get arrested by the FBI! Of course she works in the button factory in the Burg, not fondling bras and panties all day in some cut-rate company in Newark!'

This time I hastily complied with his repeated request to roll down my window. "I didn't do anything wrong, Agent McEntyre! Whatever happened, it wasn't my fault. Do I need an attorney?" I could always call Mateo, I guess. But damn, what the hell did the FBI want with me? I just ordered cheap lingerie, for crissakes! I wasn't on America's Most Wanted!

I found out a few minutes later. In explicit detail. And by the time I finished chatting with Mr. McEntyre, I was grinning ear to ear. Life, it seemed, was a lot fairer than I had given it credit for!

About 20 minutes later, a swarm of locusts descended upon the goodies, which I'd spread out in true buffet-fashion on the top of a bank of filing cabinets between two rows of cubicles. It was hard to see the sweets: all I could see was a sea of hungry EE Martin co-workers pushing and shoving their way to powdered-sugar Nirvana.

"So, girl, what's the deal with all this food?" Amanda looked over at me and asked, helping herself to a Boston cream and the last of the jelly-filled donuts. "Celebrating your birthday a few days early?"

"Celebrating something," I grinned, checking my watch. "You'll find out for yourself before too long."

"What's with the birthday cake?" Ruby puzzled, "Who the fuck is Ted, anyway?"

"Not a clue," I admitted, licking the lard-filled icing off my fingers as I plopped a generously-sized piece--complete with purple icing rose--onto a paper plate. "But whoever the hell he is, his loss is our gain. There's nothing quite so decadent for breakfast as birthday cake."

"Amen," Melinda chuckled, "You did get the no-calorie cake, right? I'm just checking before I dig into this."

"You know the rule, right? All the calories go to the birthday baby! In this case, our mysterious benefactor Teddy. He's going to be lucky to button up his pants tomorrow," Tina cackled.

There was an long-standing and iron-clad rule at EE Martin: no eating food at your desk! Everyone, of course, pretty much ignored said rule, sneaking in a donut or a bagel with their coffee and getting away with it as long as they didn't make it too obvious. This morning, of course, I was all about making it obvious--and the ladies in the office were all about stuffing their starving faces, since someone else was providing free food. 'A mutually beneficial arrangement', I believe the saying goes.

This was the visual component of my one-two knock-out punch. My audio component rested in my handbag, with fresh batteries and a newly-recorded tape I'd scored from You Tube in the late hours of last night. I couldn't wait to play it for Mrs. L--but not until Mary Lou joined us at 10am.

I checked my watch again, then hit PRINT. And my 'I hereby resign, etc. etc.' letter shot out into my hot little hands seconds later. I'd finished my cake, and now it was time to get the real party started with Human Resources! I folded the letter, tucked it into my handbag, and made tracks to HR before Mrs. Lebowitz made her much-anticipated appearance at my desk. It was just a matter of time before she heard about the two shopping bags of contraband I'd brought into the office. I wanted to put the next part of my plan into action before she did…

Fifteen minutes later, I was escorted into Penny Percival's office to discuss exactly why I was leaving EE Martin, and why I didn't seem terribly unhappy about doing so. Penny was taking it quite personally, it seemed!

She examined my personnel folder carefully as I sat tapping my toes to the happy little tune I was hearing in my head. I'd had to memorize the lyrics--rap not being my music of choice, you understand--and thankfully I had them pretty much down cold by now. Damn, was I a quick study or what? I'd even worked out a little dance routine to accompany it!

Yo! 6 o'clock every morning you waking up yawning

To the sound of your alarm clock alarm

About an hour from now

You should be at the place of employment

Which is annoying cause it's so boring

"Miss Plum? Did you hear what I asked you?"

I shook myself from my self-induced trance and tried to pretend to be even a tiny bit interested in the discussion she felt compelled to have with me.

Yes, I did want to resign. Oh, God, did I! Truer words had never been spoken! Especially now!…No, there was nothing Miss Percival or EE Martin could do to change my mind. Naught. Nada. Nil. Zilch. Not-a-damned-thing-in-the-flippin-frickin-world! I'm so outta here!…Yes, I was aware of the harsh economic realities in the world today. Not my problem, thankfully!…Yes, I did have a for-the-most-part spotless work record. Except, that is, for the few times that witch Mrs. L had written me up for tardiness and the once I'd been written up for calling her a bitch to her face. Too bad I couldn't wait and get today's performance written up…but then I'd be already an ex-employee, so that was rather pointless!…No, I wouldn't consider withdrawing my letter of resignation and thinking on it a bit more before acting so rashly. I was getting out in a nick of time, clearly. But then, I reminded myself, poor Miss Percival didn't know that.

Your co-workers are talking too loud for you to ignore them

It affects your occupational performance

You wonder why your work load is so enormous

Because your boss just laid off three quarters of the whole office

People get depressed, they get ulcers

From the stress that the corporate environment causes

My mind wandered again to Canibus song I planned to perform for my no-doubt incredulous co-workers later today. I found myself bopping along to the music, my head nodding back and forth as Miss Percival blathered on and on and on.

Yes, I understood that my refusal to give them any hopes of changing my mind was a serious matter. And this interested me, because???…No, I wasn't interested in taking my three weeks of vacation and de-stressing, and then coming back refreshed and ready to work again in November. I suspected strongly that, come November, there wasn't going to be anything to come back to. But then again, Agent McEntyre hadn't accosted Miss Percival in the parking lot, he'd button-holed me…Yes, I would have to agree that EE Martin was a convenient location in which to work. What the hell did that have to do with anything?…No, I wasn't interested in taking part in a survey on the working conditions. Was this chick deranged?

Regardless of how you ultimately wanna solve this

Seems to me like you've got one of four choices:

You could take a new job offer for more chips

Stick it out a little longer or forfeit

But my advice to anybody that wants to quit

It'll feel much better if you say it like this:

"Miss Plum, if I could have your signature here?" her voice interrupted my pretty-damned-awe-inspiring performance.

She could, oh, yes indeedy! I scratched my name happily: Stephanie M. Plum.

"If you'll wait, I'll have your check drawn up immediately. And I'll need to ask you for your employee badge." She looked at me regretfully.

I forked over the plastic ID so fast her perfectly-coiffed head spun. "Anything else I can help you with?" Now that I was getting my last pay-check from EE Martin I was definitely in the mood to be helpful! I checked my watch surreptitiously.

"Am I keeping you from some important appointment, Miss Plum?" she said, with the first hint of snarkiness. "That's the fourth time you've checked your watch in the last 10 minutes."

I shrugged carelessly. "Places to go, people to see. You know the drill, right?"

There was an icy silence. O-K. Evidently she didn't. Then she regrouped, with an obviously fake smile. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave the office immediately once you've retrieved your personal belongings from your cubicle, I'm afraid." She handed me a few pieces of paper with insurance information on it and God-only-knows what else. Then she stood to indicate that our business was now concluded.

"I'm done here? Officially?" I couldn't wait to leave.

"You're now officially no longer an EE Martin employee, Miss Plum," she confirmed, "Have a good day."

"You too," I invited, knowing that in a very short time she wasn't going to be having a very good day at all. But I knew someone who was going to be having an even crappier one. And for once, praise the Lord, it wasn't going to be moi!

By the time I ambled my way back to my cubicle--or what was my cubicle at one time--I was excited to see it was now Grand Central Station. Yep, Mrs. Lebowitz was there and so were most of the co-workers who were in my department. Or what had been my department at one time. Damn, I was really going to find it hard to get used to being a former EE Martin lingerie buyer…NOT!

"Well, well, look who just decided to favor us with the pleasure of her company," Mrs. L cackled. "I have a few bones to pick with you, Miss Plum."

Bones to pick with me? Eek! That sounded just plain-ass creepy. Literally, I mean. I could almost imagine the Wicked Witch herself dressed all in black, tearing the flesh off the bones of her unfortunate victims and boiling them in her caldron while winged monkeys flew by the window of her haunted castle.

Then I remembered that I held all the power now, and folded my arms defiantly. "Bones, huh? Pick away, Toots. But make it snappy: you're on my dime, now."

"Excuse me?" She was properly incredulous. "What did you just say to me?"

There was an audible sizzle in the air, and the crowd grew restless for blood. Whether they were getting hers or mine, they weren't exactly sure. But it was obvious to one and all by now that one of us two was going down and not getting back up again! Nope. This was it. High Noon. The final smack-down. The ultimate throw-down, as it were.

"You heard me, bitch." My eyes sparkled. I was so pumped up it was scary. I met Tina's eyes, and she pointed to her watch.

Damn. I'd promised to wait for Lou! I looked over at the clock. Just before 10am! There was still hope!

My phone rang seconds later, and I grabbed impatiently for it. "Yes, this is Stephanie Plum…Yes, I know a Mary Lou Stankovic…Fine. Send her back here. Pronto!"

"Stankovic? Is she a new vendor?" Mrs. Lebowitz asked. "I don't recall authorizing any appointment with a Mary Lou Stankovic. Whom does she represent?"

"Herself. She's a friend of Ted's. She's here to have a piece of his birthday cake."

"Have you been drinking, Miss Plum?"

I grinned as I spotted Lou making her way down the aisle. Let the show begin!

"No, unfortunately. But I plan on doing a lot of celebrating after today. Don't you want to know why I'm so happy?"

"I do not. This is EE Martin's--you're not supposed to be happy on our time!"

"Tough nuggies, Zelda. I'm happy--and there's not a damned thing you can do about it."

"We'll see about that. And don't call me Zelda."

"Why not? Isn't your name Zelda?" I looked around, pretending to be confused.

"You're not authorized to call me Zelda," she insisted, "Only level 28s and above are permitted that familiarity."

"Got it! God knows, the last thing in the world I want to do is be familiar with you, Zelda," I nodded understandingly. "Are we done picking bones yet?"

"I'm going to be writing you up for this entire escapade, Miss Plum." She waved her arm around grandly, "This unauthorized food display is entirely inappropriate, for one thing."

"And almost entirely gone, for another," I pointed out. Except for the birthday cake, thank God. There was still ¾ of it left, I was more than pleased to discover.

"And your wandering away from your desk is another infraction. As is inviting Mrs. Stankowink here to come and have cake."

"S-T-A-N-K-O-V-I-C. Stankovic. Not Stankowink. Mary Lou Stankovic. Here," I grabbed a pen, "Let me spell it for you so you don't screw it up in your precious little report."

"You think I'm joking, do you?"

"No. I think you're a joke. There's a big difference."

"And I'm going to add yet another infraction in my report: calling me by my first name."

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!" I shivered. "I'm scared!"

My co-workers were now riveted to the show, and I felt it was time to go for the big finish. Before the big guys came in and stole my thunder.

"I have a surprise for you, Zelda. Everybody? Can I ask you to gather around a little closer, please?" I kicked off my shoes, and climbed up onto my desk for all to see. Yep: I'd pretty much gotten the entire office here by now. What was coming next was guaranteed to be spoken about for years. I leaned down and fished my recorder out of my handbag, and pressed PLAY.

Then I launched into my routine. And damn, did I pull out all the stops!

[Canibus]

Yo! 6 o'clock every morning you waking up yawning

To the sound of your alarm clock alarm

About an hour from now

You should be at the place of employment

Which is annoying cause it's so boring

Your co-workers are talking too loud for you to ignore them

It affects your occupational performance

You wonder why your work load is so enormous

Because your boss just laid off three quarters of the whole office

People get depressed, they get ulcers

From the stress that the corporate environment causes

Regardless of how you ultimately wanna solve this

Seems to me like you've got one of four choices:

You could take a new job offer for more chips

Stick it out a little longer or forfeit

But my advice to anybody that wants to quit

It'll feel much better if you say it like this:

[Biz Markie]

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job, take this job, take this job and shove it

[Canibus]

Yo, if your boss is a S-o-B

Tell him to s-h-o-v-e the j-o-b

Put your middle finger up slowly

Put it close enough to his face so he can examine it closely

Say I ain't workin here no more

Who do you think you are?

Rip your apron off, throw it on the floor

Run to the door, to the payphone

Make a toll-free call

Tell your spouse what happened and where you are

So they can come and get you in the car later on

And help you search for a new 9 to 5 job

If the unemployment line ain't that long

You can take your time printin out w-9 forms

Eventually, you'll get on if you try hard enough

And you'll get money if you keep punchin your time card enough

Maybe you hate it, maybe you love it

But if you hate it all you gotta do is get mad and tell the boss to

[Biz Markie]

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job, take this job, take this job and shove it

[Canibus]

Yo, some occupations are like slave gigs

The boss is favored and get placed in something spacious

While the most hated get placed in some small cubicle spaces

Or get thrown down in the basement, get your stapler confiscated

You constantly waitin for a paycheck

Twelve months passed by and you still ain't get paid yet

Here's a optimistic motto

If you ever late for today you could say you early for tomorrow

Most 9 to 5's are hard

Cause the description in the job ain't no picnic in the park

People get hired

Drink coffee to stay wired

So they don't get tired, sleep late, and get fired

[Biz Markie]

You came in late, you already ate,

Nowww, you wanna take a lunch break!??!

[Canibus]

Ay, yo bust it, ain't no need to discuss it

Just take this job and shove it, right between your buttocks

[Biz Markie]

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job, take this job, take this job and shove it

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Ah ah ah ah ahahah ah

I ain't workin here no more

Take this job and shove it

I ain't workin here no more

Ay ay ay ayee ay

I ain't workin here no more

[Canibus and the Biz]

It's comin from Canibus and the Biz

It's comin from Canibus and the BizFrom,

from Canibus and the Biz

"And from Stephanie Plum," I finished my performance with an enthusiastic leap off my desk, landing on my feet in front of an incredulous--and dismayed--Zelda 'Oh-no-you-didn't' Lebowitz. I gave her the called-for middle finger, and watched as she stood truly dumb-founded and dazed. The woman honestly had no clue what the fuck to do or say next.

Meanwhile, the applause from my co-workers was resounding, and I took several long and satisfying bows. As I did, the Wicked Witch desperately tried to come back with an appropriately threatening response to my volley. After all, a threat to write up someone who's telling you to take your job and shove it up your you-know-what is kinda impotent, right?

"In case you didn't understand it: I quit. Effective immediately. I'm gone, I'm outta here, I ain't workin here no more. Any more bones to pick with me before I leave, bitch?"

"You can't quit," she huffed. "I have no one to put in your job! This is our busiest time of the year! I have dozens of vendors scheduled and no one but you knows lingerie! What am I going to do?"

"Frankly, my dear Zelda," I did my best Clark Gable impression, "I don't give a damn! But, just between us, I kinda think you're going to have much bigger problems before long…"

By this time, Mary Lou was laughing so hard she was crying, and Tina was more than busy snapping pictures with her camera phone. She wasn't the only one, either! In fact, remembering the phones aimed at my direction as I was gyrating on the desk, I was pretty certain that I stood a good chance of being uploaded to You Tube myself! I was sure I'd choreographed a winning routine, though, so I wasn't going to sweat it. Much.

But my mother---well, no question about it--my mother was going to shit bricks. 'Why me? Clara Calderone's daughter doesn't climb on her desk and recite rap music while she shimmies her hips and gives her ex-boss the middle finger!'

"Not my problem, Ellen," the new improved Stephanie Plum would reply. After all, I was Wonder Woman! I was invincible! I was now officially the stuff of which Legends were made!

Spotting the man whose photo I'd been shown hours earlier as he grabbed Mrs. Lebowitz's arm and they started to make their way into her office, I picked up my phone and dialed the number Agent McEntyre had programmed in for me.

"The Eagle has landed," I said importantly, "I repeat: The Eagle has landed!"

Moments later the office was swarming with unauthorized visitors, all dressed in black and packing heat. It was an honest-to-God FBI raid, and EE Martin was Ground Zero!

As Agent McEntyre approached, I turned and dramatically pointed to the back of the aisle where Zelda Lebowitz had turned a truly sickly shade of green. She'd never resembled Margaret Hamilton more. "There she is: Mrs. Zelda Lebowitz. BOOK'ER, Danno!"

Daniel McEntyre allowed a small smile to cross his previously-emotionless face, "Miss Plum, your Country thanks you for a job well done!"

He crossed over and read Mrs. Lebowitz the Miranda Warning before snapping the cuffs on her. His fellow agent did the same to her companion, one Eugene Sipowitz, who'd been under surveillance for months for money-laundering. Apparently EE Martin III, Tina's boss, had been in bed with the Mafia (figuratively speaking) for years. He'd been increasingly careless in his business practices, finally catching the FBI's attention and triggering the massive raid this morning.

In the parking lot earlier, I'd been shown photos of Mrs. Lebowitz and several other men: two of whom I recognized as regular visits of the Wicked Witch. The other photo had been of Eugene R. Sipowitz, who it seemed from wire-taps the FBI had on him, was preparing to make the usual drop-off himself today. This was big news: he, it seemed, was the big fish in the operation. Or the big bird, as the case may be: I'd been asked to call Agent McEntyre when I spotted him, and use the code phrase, "The Eagle has landed." I'd been more than delighted to help the guys in black!

As we watched the scene with Mrs. L and her cohort unfolding, Tina's jaw dropped, and she pointed silently to the other end of the floor, where other FBI agents were similarly escorting her boss out of his office. He was followed by the other partner--his cousin Milton Martin--and their rabbit-faced accountant, Morton McFurtz. Looks like the FBI had scored big today!

So had I:

Three dozen donuts from the Tasty Pastry: $26.00

One dozen brownies from the Tasty Pastry: $11.25

One day-old deep discount birthday cake from the Tasty Pastry: $5.50

Seeing your Wicked Witch of an Ex-Boss hauled off in handcuffs for money-laundering: Priceless!

Tina looked at me unhappily. "Good thing I have my resume updated. I kind of think I can forget about getting a letter of reference, though, don't you think?"

I sighed, then remembered the check I held. I walked over and tapped Agent McEntyre on the arm. I pointed to my check sadly. "This any good for anything other than lining the bottom of my hamster's cage?"

He looked to the right and then to the left, and dropped his voice confidentially. "It is, provided you manage to get it cashed by noon, Miss Plum. At 12:01 pm, we serve a Court order on Chase bank that allows us to confiscate all of EE Martin's financial assets."

News that the company was officially closed was in the process of being delivered to all of the employees. Everyone was being told to grab their personal belongings as quickly as possible and exit the building, which was now going to be permanently shuttered under order of the Government.

People were buzzing and the place was pretty much in pandemonium. We could see news vans pulling up in the parking lot, and Tina, Mary Lou and I decided to get out while the getting was still good. Grabbing the remnants of Ted's birthday cake, I climbed into my POS car and motored as fast as I could to the nearest Chase bank. I had a paycheck to cash!

And one hell of a story to tell!