Surviving Stephanie Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I didn't make up this world or the plot of whichever book this is in. I promise to put everything back the way I found it, except maybe for Ranger. He's probably going to be a little exhausted.

Note: Hey all, we'll get to the actual plot (and Ranger too) in the next chapter. This is sort of setting up the background mentioned at the first of the book. Which book? Not telling you yet.

RsB: LOL. How do I write so many stories? I'm not sure, I think my muse is just working overtime lately, plus I can type insanely fast. It helps.

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"I don't think you should work for a couple days."

Huh? I blinked at him, withwhat I'm sure wasthe stupidest, most vapid Jessica Simpson-like expression on my face. That can't be it, you're stalling. No one uses those words for something that minor league...

"That's fine. But what's this really about, Joe?" My thoughts were reeling as I scrambled through my brain to find anything at all helpful for what might be coming up.

"Cupcake, about the wedding... " Oh. Whew, sigh of relief. That's all? God, and here I was all freaking.

"You don't want to get married?" I couldn't help it, it came out in a rush, and sounded way too relieved. Morelli's eyebrows lowered and he looked caught somewhere between surprise and a glare. It would have been really cute and I probably would have done something really stupid like hugging and/or kissing him if I hadn't been so giddy. I had an idea. I was running with it.

"I didn't say-"

"Well, it's obvious, Joe. And it's okay. I've been thinking the same thing anyway. I was under pressure, I didn't really mean to set a date. In fact I was comfortable never setting a date in the foreseeable future, and I think that means more than any stupid date I came up with to make my family happy."

Joe looked stumped. The glare was gone, but I could tell there was a very deep confusion in him, a new tension in his broad shoulders. Whatever reaction he'd been expecting this wasn't it and he was off balance. In the back of my head, "She Took it Like a Man" began to play. Sometimes it really sucks to grow up in the Midwest- no matter how hard you try to exorcise them, old country songs will persist in your subconscious.

"You mean you don't want to get married?" he said slowly. I think maybe it was sinking in now.

"Well, maybe. Eventually. But why rush? I mean, come on," I added, smiling and taking across the table from him, "it's pretty obvious the way you feel about it."

He blinked at me. Really, guys can be so obtuse. I raised my hands, wiggling the ring fingers. I mean, seriously, even my cheating sleaze of an ex gave me a promise ring (before he became a cheating sleaze, but that's beside the point). "It's been how long, Joe?" I asked seriously, putting my hands back on the table.

"You mean you don't want to get married because you don't have a ring?" He sounded pissy. I don't understand- isn't the ring what its all about? It's sort of like a contract: the female agrees to sleep with you and clean the house in exchange for the bright shiny object, a fun trip, and possibly your credit card.

Besides, as far as I'm concerned, the ring is collateral; something to pawn for escape money come time for divorce. Probably this is very cynical of me, but since I have never met a happy married person and I have not yet developed a masochistic streak, I see no reason to guess that I will stay married. Unless my husband is gay and we're best friends with an open marriage. But I don't see that scenario happening.

Of course, I didn't see the scenario of me being dumped into someone else's life and body happening either which goes to prove that the gods are crazy and anything is possible. But I still have my doubts about happy marriages.

All of my inner struggles and possible relationship issues aside, it all still left me here, staring blankly at an Italian male whose temper was rapidly heating up. Crap, he was going to yell. I hate yelling. It's a childhood trauma kind of thing.

"I cannot believe you, Stephanie!" he said, his volume raising a notch. "You just don't want to quit your job." I winced. Nothing worse than a loud angry cop with a Jersey accent. I was actually kind of thankful for the accent though, I'm not sure I wouldn't have jumped him if it weren't for that. He was hot when he was pissed.

"Well, that too," I admitted weakly, admiring the way his brown eyes were all stormy and hot. Hmm, you know, if I just kept his mouth occupied, sex might not be so...

"You're going to get killed! Hell, that skip wasn't even armed and you nearly died just trying to chase him..." he took a deep breath.

"So? You're a vice cop," I pointed out. No need to state the obvious there: drugs, guns, lots of nasty people and as Janet kept harping that the kevlar didn't come with the badge.

"I'm trained!"

"So I'll get training."

Now his eyes narrowed and I could see the anger building up again. "From who? Ranger? Christ Stephanie he's-" Aw fuck. Not this. Come on, Joe. Don't do this to me. I don't even bloody know Ranger! "He's a mercenary. There's rumors he's into gunrunning and---"

I tuned out at that. I had heard this speech before. Well, except it wasn't about Ranger, but the general tone I had heard. This was the speech one guy gives you running down the competition. This is the Kevin-is-evil speech.

"You're jealous," I said in wonder. "Why?" I couldn't think of any reason for him to be jealous. If we were even remotely where I thought we were in the timeline (and from the lack of a burn scar on Steph's arms I thought I was right) I didn't think Ranger had done anything. In fact I was pretty sure there wouldn't even be any Ranger sex for at least a book or two.

Joe shut up and stared at me for a beat. Then we were back to the speechifying. "God damn it, you know why. The way he looks at you. There's only one thing he wants and--" It's the same thing you want, dummy. I've read the books- every three pages with you it's let's-have-sex suggestions. "Guys like that use and-" Hey, I thought you were the biggest player in the place... Oh. That's a thought.

"He's moving in on your turf, right Joe?" I said, trying desperately not to laugh. Wow, and I thought college guys were bad. "You're not the biggest player in the Burg, is this the problem?"

"Excuse me?" He was glaring and looming over me. I stood up, still grinning like an idiot. Probably I should have been all quivering, but come on, it's not every day you get to see grown thirty-year-olds pulling tricks out of the old college player hand-book. Although the 'I am the noble one, warning you away from the treacherous curr' routine is a classic.

"Well, I'm sorry, buddy but you either trust me or you don't," I said with a shrug. "And if you don't trust me it's just one more reason we shouldn't get married. I don't want to deal with the Ranger-is-evil speech every three days for the rest of my life." I don't want to deal with this accent either. If it took me a freaking week I was getting rid of the damned thing before my inner Scarlett O'hara threw her self off a bridge.

Joe took a step closer. Damn the guy was tall. And he was pissed. Uh-oh. Okay, maybe cowering was a good idea now... His arm wrapped around my waist while I pulled a pretty convincing deer in the headlights routine. "Let's talk about this upstairs," he said quietly, and I recognized the warm liquid look in his eyes. It was suggesting all sorts of naked fun. Fighting as foreplay? Um, right I don't think---

His lips met mine, and the kissing started. Just his lips against mine for a moment then his tongue traced my bottom lip and my brain completely checked out. I didn't think at all. Not once the whole time. Well, maybe I thought a little, like about who had what clothing on and how long it would take to get it all off. I thought I had known what a great kiss was, but I was sadly mistaken. This was a great kiss. Maybe there really is a reason to date older guys after all.

I wonder if there are other reasons... maybe I need to explore this, for purely academic knowledge... He pulled away and smiled down at me with a look of male satisfaction. He'd just kissed me completely senseless and he knew it.

Take me, I wanted to yell. Kitchens work for me. Let's go. But my brain and mouth weren't connecting just yet. He was so hot, and it would be really, really good if that kiss was any indication. He pulled me close, holding my body against his, letting me feel just how affected he was with the kiss. Damn. He was really hot in clothes, but naked...

"What do you say, Cupcake?" he asked.

There went my happy hormone bubble. I bit my lip to keep from cursing him. I am not Stephanie. I am not Cupcake. Thanks for the reminder, Joe.

"No," I whispered, using every ounce of self-control I had to push myself away from him. He rocked backward, obviously past stunned. His eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging open. I sighed and shook my head. "No. This isn't healthy. It isn't going anywhere... I'm going to bed, Joe. Good night."

And I ran. Literally, I took the steps about as fast as I could and shut the bedroom door behind me. I even locked it, but honestly it was as much to remind me to stay in as to keep anyone out. Holy crap, it he hadn't called me 'cupcake' I'd be in the middle of having sex with one of the hottest guys I had ever seen in person. It would be mind blowing, amazing, knees-to-jelly sex. And he'd be calling me Stephanie. That killed the regrets right there. If I got stuck in this body permanently, I was probably going to have to come to terms with that, but right now it just grossed me out.

I flopped down on the bed, burying my face in the pillows. It was time to plan out how to survive this. I'm before Abruzzi and Joe and Stephanie are engaged, which I was pretty sure meant I was either in the DeChooch book or the one where Stephanie chases Ranger. Of course, I hadn't seen a gunshot scar earlier, but then I don't remember if she even ended up with much of one... And then it hit me. I could be about to start on the Abruzzi book. My stomach shrank in on itself and I felt all let's-get-bulimic again. Then again, what could go wrong? I am literally the center of the universe now, right? I smiled into the pillow.

I always wanted to be the center of everything and now I was at least the main attraction. See, I could do this. It was just another role, just another play. Isn't that all that life is? Yeah, thank you Shakespeare, you come through for me again. So the role of a lifetime, the ultimate con: I had to be Stephanie Plum. I stopped to reflect on that.

Cripes, that was a complicated life. Look at it will you: the dysfunctional family from hell, a job that couldn't get much weirder, a town that made even my hometown of gun-toting rednecks and stoners look sane, and a totally FUBAR relationship with a cop who was sex on legs. Oh yeah, there was also... My eyes flew open and I stared into the darkness. Ranger. Batman, Rambo, and Bruce Wayne all rolled into one. Oh, I was so screwed.

Then again, what was he going to know? That Stephanie was acting funny? She always acted funny. I loved the books, but the girl is a little... what did Chelsea call it? Daft. She's definitely a little left of center. And unless Ranger had some top secret file on the switching of bodies he probably was going to chalk it up to her getting landed on by Lula.

I breathed a sigh of relief and snuggled down into the bed. Time for sleep. It was going to be a very long day tomorrow.

Yeah, too bad I didn't know how long. I might have stayed asleep and skipped it altogether.

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