Author's Note:
It's been a few years since I posted here as WrongFromGo, but not much has changed. I still don't write fluff, I'm still addicted to the dark side, I still do not give trigger warnings or spoiler alerts. I rate everything M or higher as a standard, because I pretty much always stay in territory that is definitely not for the under 18 set. I also seldom complete fanfics, mainly because I write them when my own work has stalled out and I'm frustrated with it.
So, this is intended to be a one or two chapter piece. Not friendly to Stephanie. Not friendly to anyone, really. I enjoy the JE books but the shallow, never evolving characters have gotten on my nerves. Might have something to do with my current personal situation, since everything gets on my nerves. Give me a few weeks to lose this 30lbs, and I'll maybe lighten up. ;)
As always, I own none of this and get nothing monetary from it. If you want to find that stuff, you'll have to hit me up privately. It's out there.
1
The police scanner crackled to life and every ear in the monitor room perked up, like Dobermans hearing the rustle of butcher paper.
"Shots fired… Pino's… vehicle fire. Someone get Morelli on the horn, it's Plum again."
Eyes slid towards the bank of monitors where Ranger sat, reviewing footage of an inexplicable security breach from earlier in the day. His head swiveled slightly towards the scanner, and a muscle twitched beside his right eye. He turned his eyes back to his screen and tapped the keyboard, going back to his review of the tape.
"Boss?"
"You can check it out on your own time if you want, Les. Go ahead and clock out." Ranger's gaze never left his computer. Santos frowned, but shoved back from his monitors and headed out the door.
The silence of the room deepened into a tense, ominous thing. Babe duty was usually not just on the clock, but hazard pay. Something had changed.
2.
Stephanie sat on the curb, waiting while Morelli ranted and raved above her, flinging his arms around his head. Money exchanged hands and you could almost see the lines from cell phone signals crisscrossing the smoky air.
A black SUV pulled to the opposite curb, and she smiled to herself. She knew she could count on Ranger's support and comfort. Her smile faded when Les climbed out alone and ambled over to her.
"You okay?" he asked. His green eyes were troubled in his neutral face.
"Yeah," she replied, her eyes going over his shoulder to the SUV. Les gave her a slight shake of the head.
"What happened?"
"I was picking up some lunch with Lula. I saw one of my FTAs walk past, so I thought I'd grab him real quick. He turned around and swung on me, and Lula took a shot at him. She missed and blew up my car. Again." Stephanie sighed.
"She bailed on you?" Les shook his head. He never could understand why she let Lula partner her. Any man who had ducked and run from a Rangeman crew would have been out of a job before they got to the corner- and then they'd have to deal with Ranger.
"She's allergic to cops. She'll come back to get lunch."
Les rubbed the back of his neck, looking around.
"Okay, beautiful. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. Catch ya on the flip side." He folded himself away into the SUV and drove off, leaving Stephanie confused and bereft on the sidewalk. Ranger always showed up. He'd hug her, kiss her head, and a new car would be delivered like magic. She stood up and turned around in a slow circle, looking for him. He wasn't there.
Looking at Morelli, huddled with Eddie and some of the other guys, she felt a chill slide down her spine. No one was there.
3.
Ranger settled into his couch and sighed with relief as his tense muscles unwound. Music throbbed quietly through the room, an older U2 album with Bono's aching vocals mourning the lost. It paired perfectly with the golden wine in his glass and the dim lighting of the comfortable room.
He thought about the events of the afternoon. He had reacted exactly the same as his men when the police band crackled, initially. His body had tightened, muscles bunching in preparation to go riding to the rescue. And then the adrenaline had washed away under a realization.
She didn't need him. And he didn't need her.
He had listened to the radio chatter while he reviewed the video files in front of him. The knowledge had settled around him like a well tailored suit. He'd spent years rescuing Stephanie from her own stupid choices and refusal to take responsibility for her actions. Sure, he'd had some great sex here and there, but overall, Stephanie just used him like she used everyone else, as an excuse to not grow up.
She used Morelli to keep her family and friends placated.
She used him as an excuse to not commit to Morelli.
She used her grandmother, Lula, Bella Morelli, and anyone within convenient eyeline to blame for her epic fuck ups.
She used her mother and the expectations of the Burg as her excuse to not actually learn how to do the job she refused to give up.
Most of all, she used her innocent, girl next door facade as coldly and ruthlessly as a high class escort used her body to manipulate her clients. He snorted, sipping his wine as he realized he should have used different contacts to help the woman over the years.
His phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. Speak of the devil.
"Long time no talk, Sin."
4.
"No one else's daughter blows up cars!"
Stephanie ignored her mother's well worn complaints and concentrated on the mound of lasagna on her plate. Her grandmother put in another inappropriate comment, her father tightened his grip on his butter knife, and Valerie's daughter neighed.
"What kind of car did Ranger give you this time? " Val asked around a mouthful of bread.
Stephanie shrugged. "Nothing. I need to borrow Big Blue again."
"Really, Steph. You must be slacking off with that guy." Val rolled her eyes. "Just call him and say pretty please. You'll be driving the Porsche again in no time."
"And what would Joe think? She should be getting married, not asking that thug for favors!"
Val's suggestive words made Stephanie squirm. She was technically with Joe again, but she knew he wasn't any more faithful than she was. She had Ranger, he had everyone else. She didn't really mind. She'd never cared enough about him to care about where his dick wandered, but he made her look better to the Burg. She'd never get away with half of her antics if she dropped him for good.
Ranger, though. The Black Knight to her damsel in distress routine, he was always good for making things easier for her. Whether it was a gourmet meal, a car, or extra cash, he definitely kept her pampered when she wanted it. And he was easier to play with than Joe. One hint that she was conflicted, and his ingrained chivalry had him backing down. She's probably given him blue balls a hundred times by now. The power that made her feel was amazing, even better than the admittedly fantastic sex.
She accepted a slice of chocolate cake and made a mental note to call him.
Two hours later, she slammed her phone down and snatched the Buick keys off the counter. He had sent her calls to voicemail, her texts had gone unanswered. She drove to the Haywood building in a rage. She schooled her face into prettily confused lines and gave the cameras a finger wave as she entered the elevator.
She stepped off at seven and fobbed open the apartment door. There was music playing somewhere, and the scent of Ranger's luxury body wash hung heavy in the air. She caught a whiff of floral perfume, stronger than usual, from the flowers beside the door.
"Ranger?"
She congratulated herself on her voice. It was just the right mix of concern and inquiry. She was worried about him, after all. He (and more importantly, a shiny new car) hadn't shown up. He wasn't answering his phone. She needed to see if he was okay. A few kisses, some reassurance and well placed heavy petting, and she'd be out the door, keys in hand, and probably with free, professional take-down help to clear her FTA list. She definitely loved the Merry Men. A little fumbling and flirting, and she got to sit back while they brought Mama's paycheck to her, just like the well trained puppies they were.
She stepped into the living room and stopped, her face blank with shock. Ranger was sprawled on the couch, shirtless, with a pair of loose white cotton pajama pants riding low on his hips. He had a glass of wine in hand and looked utterly relaxed, his hair tousled and damp from a shower. Her fingertips suddenly itched with the desire to touch his golden skin.
If there hadn't been a woman stretched out on the couch beside him, she might have. Instead, she was treated to seeing a pair of tiny feet with shimmering dark polish resting comfortably on those muscled thighs. Long pale legs disappeared into a casual black romper that packaged a slim, dainty woman with a long braid that trailed over the couch arm to coil on the floor. She looked about 20, and completely at ease with the situation.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was interrupting."
The woman laughed, and Stephanie added 10 years to her age. Delicate lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes, and her laughter had the husky depth of a mature woman.
"You didn't interrupt." Ranger quirked an eyebrow at his companion and shrugged. "We were expecting you."
"You were?" Stephanie bit her tongue, hard, against the rage that threatened to boil out. She strove to put the right mix of hurt and bravado into her voice, licking her lips and blinking rapidly against nonexistent tears. "I guess my invitation got lost in the mail."
"You weren't kidding, Ranger. She'd make a hell of a pro, if she lost the ego." The woman stretched and swung her feet off Ranger's lap, sitting up and scooping her wine glass off the table. Ranger handed her his wordlessly, and she disappeared into the kitchen.
"Who is that?" Steohanie asked bluntly. Her easy street was slipping away, she could feel it. She wanted to know who to blame it on.
"An old friend. You can call her Cynthia."
"What do you call her?" There was an edge of shrillness to her voice, and Stephanie took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm.
"All sorts of things," Ranger taunted lightly. "Like I said, we're old friends."
"I didn't come here to fight." Steohanie swallowed hard, conjuring up some real tears. "I was worried about you."
"That's a first. Stephanie Plum worrying about anything other than what she wants? Or are you going to tell me you want me- for now?"
"Ranger… "
"Sorry, Babe. The sucker you're trying to reach is unavailable. Leave a message. Maybe someone will get back to you." His gaze went over her shoulder and a tiny smile kicked up the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn't hold my breath, though."
Cynthia brushed past Stephanie with freshly filled glasses and dropped the key fob onto the coffee table. She settled next to Ranger, handing him his drink. Her eyes studied Stephanie over the rim of her glass, dark in the dim light of the living room.
Stephanie trembled. Gone. It was all gone. Rangers endless generosity, her helpful puppies doing her work for her, the luxury cars and highly paid distractions. Everything. Tears choked her.
A Rangeman she'd never met escorted her out of the building, put her in her car, and wished her a good night, his impassive eyes sliding off her like she was coated in Crisco. She drove back to her dingy cracker box of an apartment, feeling hollow.