Surviving Stephanie Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Janet would probably shoot us if she knew what we are doing to her plot, or what Alyssa is planning on doing to it.

Note: Ranger and Joe might deserve your comfort and compassion in the next few chapters. Just thought we'd let you know.

Okay, Alyssa, take a deep breath. You can do this. It isn't the end of the world, just think before you speak. I looked at Jack, sizing up my probability of survival... 'Hellooooo Nurse!' shrieked my inner Dot Warner. Oh boy, this could hurt...

"You two know each other?" Ranger asked, pulling me out of my contemplation of Jack's face. I glanced at him. Was it just me or did he look a millimeter more tense?

"We met last night," Jack told him, his eyes shifting away from me almost nervously to look at his boss.

Ranger's head moved a quarter of an inch, and I couldn't tell if it was an 'okay, cool' nod or 'I may fire you soon.' Whichever it was, Ranger turned back to me.

"Jack has your keys."

Of course, he knew Stephanie wouldn't do this without a fight. Ugh. Fine. Be that way. I simply nodded and tried to look calm.

"I'm not going to go running off. I said I'd talk to him."

Ranger looked skeptical.

"Good." And he was gone. I didn't pause to worry about the abrupt departure. He probably couldn't do a graceful exit if his life depended on it. Instead I stood looking at Jack

He cleared his throat and motioned to the couch. I took the cue and sat down in the corner of it, feeling very exposed in last night's clubbing clothes.

"So, do you always introduce yourself with a different name?" He asked, smiling.

I winced. "No. I just--" wanted to be me for a night, "didn't want to be recognized. I'd had enough of being stared at and asked about the stupid funeral parlor."

"Understandable," he said, taking a seat in the chair across from me, a notebook and pen already in hand. "Now, why are you here?"

I smiled at him. "Good question. I assume you don't want a dissertation on philosophy?" Although, come to think of it, it might be a better start.

"No," he smiled. "Just the reason for the visit, since I would assume you weren't aware I would be the therapist."

"Nah, actually I've been acting weird specifically so Ranger would introduce us," I smiled what I hoped was an adorably cute, completely sane flirty smile, although with the pounding hangover it could have come off as PMS poster girl.

"Ms. Plum..."

"Stephanie," Alyssa, "please. I think after last night we're on first name basis. And I'm here because of last night, sort of. Really more because apparently I've been acting weird since I hit my head... I fell down some stairs and my friend Lula - you met her last night- she fell on top of me. I was out for a few hours. But ever since then Ranger thinks I've been acting off. Joe too, come to think of it."

"Joe?"

"Morelli. My on again, off-again ex. Obviously off again right now."

"And what do you think?" he asked, making another note. I hate that about psychiatrists- making notes that you can't see. How are you supposed to trust someone who may or may not think you're crazy? Of course, since it might actually be possible that I'm crazy, it makes things worse...

"I think they're right," I know they are. "But they're overreacting." They're underreacting. "I'm fine. I'm just sick of... of being someone I'm not. I don't even know who I am right now, so I'm trying to find out. Spend a little more time with friends, focus on my goals a little more." There, didn't that sound nice and sane? A perfectly reasonable search for personal identity. Thank you Freshman Psych.

"And this feeling came about after your injury?"

Yes. Before my injury I was perfectly happy with my life as a college co-ed. "No. I've been unhappy with things for a while, but I've been ignoring it all. I'm really good at denial, especially with emotional stuff. I've decided to be more honest with myself and with everyone else. What if I'd died and left all that unsaid? No one would know how I'd felt or what I'd thought. How sad is that?" I shook my head, relieved. Look, instant reason for emotional outburst! I'm getting in touch with my feelings. Hah, take that Janet.

"Hmm, you mentioned your goals, earlier. What are they?" Jack asked, leaning forward as if interested. Uh-huh, probably trying to keep himself awake...

What were my goals? To get home, back to my 20-year-old college girl life, but he didn't need to know that. "To become better at my job, to be able to defend myself better, higher fitness level. To date Colin Ferrell. The usual."

"You didn't mention relationships," he prompted. I frowned at that.

"I'm trying not to think about that. I need to know who and what I am before I worry about relationships. I mean, look at the last one. Ugh."

"Tell me about it."

Yeesh. Okay, think Stephanie, think Stephanie... "Joe Morelli. The current ex, remember? He's a Vice cop, supposedly like the hottest guy in the 'Burg. We were engaged, but he wouldn't even do the ring thing. I mean, seriously, how the hell are you engaged sans ring? It's stupid." I did try, really hard, to stay in character, but the disdain just sort of crept on through. Gah, stupid hangover.

"Anyway, we seem to just keep getting back together, fighting, breaking up, making up, wash, rinse, repeat."

"Mmm," Jack was writing again. "Sounds like an unhealthy pattern." I coughed, trying to hide my laughter. No fair stealing Ranger's lines. He doesn't have that many to spare. Jack just looked at me quizzically.

"Sorry, someone else said something similar once. And it's very true. So that's what I'm trying to do now, break the cycle, you know? Screw them expecting me to marry Joe and pop out kids and clean house. I may be incompetent like he says, but it's my life and I don't want..." What the hell didn't she want, anyway? Every two pages she flip-flops! Janet, you are so getting a nasty letter when I get home... "to not be a bounty hunter." He nodded as if this sounded perfectly reasonable.

"Any other men in your life?"

"Aside from Ranger, no."

He set down the pen and looked at me. "What is your relationship with him?"

"We're friends. And not friends with benefits... but I'm not sure if that's the permanent state of affairs. I think we're at a weird place, with the possibility of benefits." I bit my lip and thought about it. Yeah, that kind of summed it all up. "I just wish I knew he considered me a friend, too."

Then again, he did hold my hair back when I was barfing, which is a time-honored test of friendship. And he'd still flirted afterward. If a guy can see you throw up and still get sex on the brain, you've got him. At least in my world.

"He isn't the most verbal person," Jack said gently, picking up the book again to make a quick note.

"Yeah, total opposite of Joe. He's much more with the yelling. I hate getting yelled at."

"Not many people enjoy it," he said, adding another note. Damn it that was making me nervous. "So have you thought about getting extra training? You seem to feel you are unprepared for your job."

"Actually, yeah," I shifted a little in my seat, nervous. This was something Stephanie and I differed on. "I was going to ask Ranger if he knew a good place to learn self defense and stuff. Maybe martial arts... "

"That will be tough work."

Was Stephanie's inability to work out really that legendary? Nah, it was probably the squishy bit in the middle that gave it away. "I'm prepared. I'm desperate. Mainly because it isn't just about work, I need some serious toning. I'm fluffy."

He shook his head, apparently unsure of how to reply safely. Smart boy. "I do have a number for a friend of mine, he runs a gym downtown, but he gives classes."

I looked at Jack then, noting the military hairstyle, the pressed and dressed GAP look that didn't quite manage to disguise his physique was a bit above average. He was definitely a RangeMan type. I wondered how I'd missed it before. Probably the lack of a snake tattoo on his forehead, or visible gang markings. All of Ranger's guys in the books seemed to ooze the aura of Rent-a-thugs, aside maybe from Cal.

"Is he anything like the rest of you? Cause I'd really like to be able to survive this..."

Jack laughed. "He's a good teacher. You'll survive. It won't be painless, though."

"That's fine. I can handle it." I hope. Hey, none of that. I straightened my spine. I'm a dancer. I'm not afraid of pain. Choreography is from the ancient Greek word meaning 'The gods want to see how much pain your body can handle.' I could work around pain.

Jack eyed me, and I could almost see him mentally calculating my odds for survival. I raised my eyebrow and waited for the verdict. He shook his head finally and handed me a card from the desk.

"So, doc? Am I crazy?"

He shook his head, his lips tilting up in the promise of a smile. "I think you're confused, stressed, and you need to gain confidence in yourself. Self defense classes will go a long way to help you get more comfortable in your own skin."

In my own... Eek! Was it that obvious?

He held out a hand to help me up, giving me a full smile now. "You'll be fine, Stephanie," he said as I took his hand and he easily hauled me to my feet.

"Thank you, for everything... and for last night. You made a great dance partner, and an even better therapist."

"It was my pleasure, on both counts," he laughed. "I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to keep up with you- I haven't danced that much since college."

"Me either," I said honestly. So what if that had been all of two days ago. "Maybe we could do it again sometime... unless you aren't allowed to dance with patients."

"It isn't exactly encouraged," he sounded regretful, then gave me a flirtatious wink. "But maybe we should meet up for dinner some time to discuss your progress, since I think Mac's class should benefit you more anyway."

"Dinner? I'd like that," I said as he ushered me toward the door.

"Good, I'll call you." He held out a set of keys. "And now you're free to go."

"Thanks, Jack. Just one more question." He tilted his head and waited, I grinned. "Where's my car exactly?"

Thankfully Jack decided it was easier just to guide me to it than risk me wandering through the parking garage by myself. Not that I didn't feel safe, but come on, Ranger employs nothing but huge hulking rent-a-thugs. Sue me for not being eager to meet one of them in a dark enclosed area. Although Jack was definitely a pleasant exception to the rule. I could meet up with Jack in any darkened area he chose... ack, damn it, no. Focus, Alyssa. You haven't got the time for this unless he asks you out.

But again, what kind of guy actually calls when he says he will? Exactly.

In order to keep myself from thinking about my new possible date too much I pulled into traffic and dialed one of the numbers I'd found in the phone: Mr. Alexander. Time to make a serious hair appointment. No more Felicity Does Flash Dance. What do you know? He was overjoyed to hear from me and squeezed me in for the very next day.

This was going to be one hell of a test though- you might be able to fool friends, family, psychiatrists and even beloved family pets, but the hair stylist? That's a whole new ball game. I'd worry about it later. My only concern at this moment was getting rid of that nightmarish image I'd had to deal with this morning. I couldn't imagine why the girl would live with hair like this when there are so many ways to fix it...

Okay, enough hair stressing. I'm still a bounty hunter, so I should hunt some bounties. Oh yeah, and look for Evelyn and Annie too. Hm, good thing I already knew what was up with them. They were probably in contact with Evelyn's childhood best friend... what was her name? Crap. Um. Dorothy? Daily? Danny? No, none of those. Ugh. I was going to have to call someone... I pulled into a Subway shop and snagged the folder still residing in the passenger seat. Mabel's number was on the top of page one. Yippee, no having to go by the Freak Show that Stephanie called home.

I dialed Mabel and waited. It took a couple rings but she finally picked up. "Mabel, this is Stephanie Plum."

"Oh, hello dear," she said in a pleasant old lady voice, sounding eerily like my own grandma, aside from the ever-present Yankee accent. "I heard about your apartment! It's just terrible what some people will do-"

"It's nothing. A couple garden snakes or some such. Just scaly, not even poisonous," I interrupted, waving away her concern. Not like I was there. "Anyway, I was hoping you could help me. I need to know if Evelyn had a really close friend or anything. Someone she grew up with that she might get in contact with?"

"Oh, well, there was Dotty Palowski. They went all through school together, then Evelyn got married and Dotty moved away. I think they've lost touch though."

Yes! Score! "Her parents are still in the Burg aren't they?"

"Yes, they just live a few streets away."

"Thanks, Mabel. I'll get back to you soon! Have a nice day," I added, while we exchanged goodbyes like normal human beings. So nice, don't you think? Saying goodbye before you hang up with someone? Yeah, I thought so too. Somewhere down on my list is tricking Ranger and in fact this whole place in to taking phone etiquette classes. A pipe dream, I know, but I can wish.

Next order of business... checking out my business. To the office! I angled the CR-V out of the Subway lot and back into traffic, consulting my map occasionally for directions.

Uh-oh. The map. It was jus sitting out on the passenger seat, open for the world... Okay, don't freak. Nothing unusual in a map. Probably Tank or whoever didn't even notice it, much less remark on it to Ranger. Right? Yeah, exactly. It's just a map. With the office, my apartment, and Stephanie's mom and dad's marked...

Oh look, the office. Let's think about the office. Wonder if Lula feels as rough as I do? I was almost there when the sky opened up at let loose with a torrential downpour. Geez, I hate driving in rain.

I pulled into the parking lot and made a mad dash for the door, breathing a sigh of relief when I made it to the safety of the overhang. Inside Lula was lying on the couch with something pressed over her eyes while Connie typed away at the computer. She looked up at smiled at me.

"Looks like you two had a long night."

"Majorly," I said, glancing back at Lula. "You okay?"

"Okay? Fuckin' A I'm not," Lula muttered, pulling the compress away to glare at me. "You take off with Batman and here it is noon and you ain't called with no details!"

"Well, you didn't call me to let me know how it went with Tank," I retorted. "And since you hooked up first, you spill first."

"It went damn good with Tank," Lula said, her scowl melting into something much more pleasant. "Damn good."

"Wow," Connie shook her head admiringly. "Must have been a hell of a night," she turned to fix me with an eagle eye. "But I want to hear about you and the Wizard."

"Yeah, did he live up to that fine body?" Lula was actually siting up now, the hangover forgotten. Amazing, the power of hormonal curiosity. Too bad I'd have to disappoint her.

"It didn't go anywhere with Ranger. I was way too drunkl," I looked remorseful for added emphasis. Well, it didn't really go anywhere, did it, aside from the kiss, and the kiss was just a kiss- with major benefits.

"That sucks," Lula sighed, returning to her former position. I shrugged. It did suck, but not as badly as if I really was Stephanie.

"Connie I need to talk to Dotty Palowski. Could you pull it up for me?" The keys clipped away and a few moment later I had my answer.

"She's Dotty Rheinhold now, "Connie said as the printer kicked on. "Divorced, two kids, living in South River. Works for the Turnpike Aurthority." Blech.

Dude, what is with this place? Everyone works for authorities, or button factories, or tampon factories, or as a cop. I was finally getting a concept of 'blue collar areas.' It was a lot more depressing than I'd thought it was. Beginning to miss back home, with its own slightly more offbeat brand of blue collar, I barely heard Connie's continued spiel.

I missed the farms, the town parks, the bigger yards. I missed Garth Brooks and Toby Keith. I missed parties in Headless Woman Woods and all the other stupid things I used to hate. Gravel roads, rodeos. Urgh, never mind. Rodeos made me think of Daddy, wonder what he was up to. Would he be helping grandpa out on the farm or out on the ranch in Oklahoma? He'd probably be judging a rodeo somewhere this weekend, too. Christ I sounded like a bad country song. Take me home, to the place where I belong...

The feeling of the hairs on the back of my neck standing up jerked me out of my thoughts a moment before someone's hand settled on the base of my neck. Oh, hello Ranger. Nice to see you too.

"You look distracted," he said.

"Just thinking."

He motioned toward the door and I followed him out, grabbing the paper from the printer on my way. We stood next to each other under the overhang, and I concentrated on staring out at the dreary wet world. No way was I looking him in the eye for a good week or more.

"Jack give you that much to think over?" his voice was quiet, carefully nonthreatening.

"Yes, and no. I'm worried about this case, too." Yeah, that sounded good. The case. Talk about the case. "I'm having zero luck finding the kid."

"You're not the only one." Huh? Aren't I the only one looking-- oh yeah. Catwoman was in this thing too, wasn't she? Hey, maybe I could just let her handle this. She's good, right? And I'm way below even Stephanie's level. This is a good idea...

"Jeanne Ellen's looking for her, huh?" I turned then, finally giving up and facing him. Damn, he was hot. I swear he could single-handedly set off a SWAT trend. And keep it going, too. He inclined his head a little. "Thought so. Hope she finds her if I don't... I gotta go chase Bender again." I smiled at him. "Later, Ranger."

And I dashed out into the rain, throwing myself into the CR-V. I pulled out of the parking lot, feeling immensely better. I always wanted to do that- make Stephanie leave first. Joe and Ranger always left first, you never had Steph just walk off. It was fun. I needed to do it more often. In fact, now that I was pretty sure Janet wasn't going to swoop down and smite me, I had a lot more ideas about what needed to change.

And if she had a problem with it, she could send me home. 'Hear that Janet?' I thought pointedly at the sky. 'Send me home or I'm going to play hell with your plotlines!'

Not even a rumble of thunder for an answer. How pathetic.

To prove what I thought of that, I decided Bender could wait. Who wanted to haul an icky drunk when it was raining anyway? There were more important things to do, like- - answering my cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Stephanie, it's Jack. I was wondering if you might be free tomorrow night?"

"You sure move fast. I was a patient about an hour ago..."

"What can I say? I'm an opportunist."

Hey, Ranger's lines again... hm, Stephanie would probably say no, since she has enough male issues...

"Tomorrow night... I'm pretty sure I could clear my schedule, for a good enough reason.."

"How about dinner at Rossini's, eight o'clock?"

"Would this include tiramisu?"

He laughed. "You drive a hard bargain, but I think I could arrange it."

"I'd say we have an accord."

"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty." And he disconnected.

What was it I was saying about that phone etiquette class? I sighed and tossed the phone to the passenger seat. See, I knew there was a reason I shouldn't go after Bender- I needed to do some serious shopping.

Surviving Stephanie Chapter 9

I turned the car toward the mall, but was struck by a sudden thought. What was I doing? No amount of new clothes in the world were going to help me out of the fluffy factor! I was grossly close to pulling a complete Stephanie. I mentally slapped myself and changed directions..

Scrap the mall, I was going to check out the new gym, but I needed to change first. No more dark red pleather and chemise, thank you.

I pulled into the parking lot, of course getting the furthest spot away. I had to run my happy little butt to the door, in the heels. God I was soaked. I hate rain. I shivered and chattered up the flight of stairs and got all the way to Stephanie's apartment and sent a silent thanks to Janet for her only having a couple keys. One was the CR-V, one was a mailbox, leaving two possibilities. I got lucky on the first try. I really needed to learn the difference. Later. If I don't wake up.

There were no signs of snakes or any other creepy crawlies so I assumed Animal Control or whoever had done their duty. I just peeled off the wet pleather, the damp silk top and hopped into the shower. It wasn't actually going to do any good, but it would warm me up.

I got out, quickly toweled off, slipped on a pair of gray sweat pants (thank you God not the kind with elastic around the ankles and waist) a sports bra and a cute blue t-shirt. Then I set to work on anti-frizzing the hair.

Almost an hour later I was dried, gelled, and munching on a piece of bread, which I shared with the hamster. I'm not much of a pet person, but he was cute and low maintenance. This I could handle.

"Have fun, Rex," I called to him on my way out. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Which admittedly, left only a small amount of highly criminal, insanely dangerous, or desperately imaginative activities, none of which would be attributed to a hamster.

A half an hour and several wrong turns later I was in front of the address listed on the card Jack gave me. I didn't know what I was expecting- something much more bright shiny Bally Total Fitness probably. This was much more... Street Fighter. A reclaimed warehouse from the look of it, in a seedy looking area. Well, then again, most of this town looked seedy to me, so what did I know?

I swallowed hard and forced one foot in front of the other until I was inside, which wasn't much more comforting than the exterior. It was clean, at least, with only the faint smell of sweaty guy to flash me back to that long-ago bus. I stood next to the counter, taking in the reception area before I focused much past it. There was a doorway on the left leading to a weight room by the sounds of grunts and clinking metal drifting out, and a few more resistance type machines on the other end of the lobby area, currently occupied by a couple muscle-bound hulks. Past them was what looked like an elevator. The right wall had another couple doors and a window I assumed looked into an office.

"Can I help you?" The deep voice startled me and I turned around, almost too quickly. It took a second for my eyes to focus on the speaker, but when they did- Hello Nurse! Tall, muscular, tanned, and tasty. The guy was maybe a touch over six feet, dark hair caught back in a ponytail, dressed in black. I would have thought he was Ranger except he was definitely Caucasian and had thinner lips and green eyes.

What is it with this place? Do they grow these guys on trees?

"Um, yeah," I said, cringing at the breathy, cutesy quality of my own voice. "I'm looking for Mac."

Tall, Tanned, and Tasty looked at me closely. At least his eyes didn't linger on my boobs. "You're speaking to him."

I caught a trace of an accent in his voice, not the normal Yankee sound but too faint for me to make out. Make out. Yeah, I think that would be fun... Oh, god damn it Alyssa. I cursed my nymphomaniac self mentally.

"Hi!" I said, offering my hand. "Jack sent me over, he said you're the person to ask about self-defense training."

Mac's very large hand engulfed mine in a firm shake as a wide smile brightened his chiseled features. He looked much less forbidding this way, which allowed me to relax a tiny bit.

"You must be Stephanie." Ooh, gotta love that ESP. "Jack told me you'd be dropping by. Let me give you the tour."

I didn't even have time to protest before I was caught up in Mac's wake. Wow, a guy who talked as much as I do. Yay! Real conversations!

Mac took me through the weight room, talked me through resistance training, and gave a brief overview of nutrition before we even made it to the studio. Well, he had some Japanese term for it, but it was a large, wooden-floored room with mirrors. Call it what you want, to a dance girl that's a studio with or without the punching bags and mats.

"How much are the classes?" I asked when he finally finished giving the lecture.

He looked at me strangely. "Your boss is paying."

"Vinnie?" I raised my eyebrows to give him a disbelieving stare.

"Nah, RangeMan."

Oh, gag me with a dead smurfette.

"You didn't know?" Mac prodded. I shook my head, giving up. I could smack Ranger later. Then again, hell no. I'm in college, I know the value of a freebie.

"Nope. I wasn't even aware they were employing me again." Must not have taken her quite as off his employee roster as Stephanie thought.

Mac laughed at that. "Ranger must have forgot to mention it."

"He forgets to mention a lot," I waved it off. "So, when do we start? And if you say now, can we please take it easy. My hangover isn't gone yet, at it's partially Jack's fault."

"Ah, Vulcan Mind Probes," Mac nodded knowingly.

"You got it in one."

"How about a warm up and some basic moves?"

I nodded and stood up, and he began adjusting my posture, showing me how to square off, and how to block. Even though he went slowly I could quickly tell how totally out of shape this body was. I was tired after half an hour, and the first fall almost killed me.

It was going to be a lot of work.

An hour later I collapsed on the mat, sweaty, exhausted, but oddly exhilarated. I had finally gotten the hang of the wrist move he'd been showing me. Very handy if someone grabbed your arm and you didn't want to be grabbed. Jack was right- Mac was an excellent teacher.

He was also an excellent flirt and an excellent hottie. I was never going to miss a class. Session. Lesson... Whatever the hell you wanted to call getting to roll around on a mat with a totally gorgeous guy for free. I had reconsidered my irritation with Ranger. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, and in fact I was giving serious thought to sending him a thank you note.

"You did pretty well, for a first timer," he said amiably, tossing me a bottle of water.

"And you did pretty well at kicking my ass,' i laughed.

Mac grinned. "You sure you're okay? You fell pretty hard a couple of times."

You're telling me genius. I'm going to be immobile tomorrow. Mentally I knew how to take a fall, how to land without serious injury, but this body wasn't trained to react. It had kind of pissed me off the first few times, but it was learning. Or I was. Either way, I was beginning to get a little more comfortable in the skin.

"Hey, don't worry about me. I've been dropped from higher places than your shoulder. I'm tough." And that was the truth. You don't know pain until your dance partner tosses you around like a hackey sack and misses the catch or you land a splits and strain a tendon, or go on pointe and break your big toes, or... Okay, you get the idea. Possibly getting shot could hurt worse, but I had my doubts.

"Well you look like a powder puff."

I rolled my eyes. "You macho guys are sooo shallow," I quipped, tossing my ponytail for added effect. He snorted trying to hide the laugh.

"Cute."

"Always and forever." I hopped to my feet and took a drink of the water. "Thanks for the lesson."

"Anytime, Stephanie," he said, taking a moment to look over my currently extremely disheveled state. "Take tomorrow to recuperate though. You might want to invest in some heat pads and ice packs." Not to mention buying stock in Advil, which would probably come in handy if I kept this routine up.

I nodded and walked to the wall to grab my jacket while Mac waited by the door to walk me out. As we walked, I felt Mac's gaze keep shifting to me. I might not have known him for more than an hour and a half, but I was pretty sure there was something he was itching to ask me.

"Spit it out, please. You're making me twitchy."

He raised an eyebrow at that expression, but his lips curved upward in a Ranger-esque minimal smile. It's official, they really do grow them on trees somewhere. There's a whole field full of dangerously sexy dudes somewhere, just hanging around on trees like an orchard. I think they call it Shangri-La...

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Making girls twitchy."

I told you, I told you, I told you. Now I need to find that place and never leave. I grinned, half at what he said, half at my inner realization of my new quest in life.

"Actually, I was wondering about you. Never known Ranger to be much..." he paused as if looking for the most politically correct term, "involved with women, if you understand me."

I laughed. Yeah, somehow I kind of figured that one. "He's finding it amusing to play part-time Professor Higgins," I shrugged. "and I think I keep him entertained... " I shot a glance at him to cut off the inevitable comment. "In a what-the-hell-is-she-going-to-do-next kind of way, not in the let's-have-sex way. Which is probably a new thing for him. I'd imagine he's more into the sex-now-think-later gigs."

Mac blinked once like I'd nailed him between the eyes with my purse, then threw back his head and laughed. "You must drive him nuts." I smiled, trying my best to look sweet and innocent, which just made him laugh harder.

"I don't mean to," I told him. Well, Stephanie didn't mean to. I on the other hand, didn't care much. I liked Ranger, but even as hot and obviously talented as he was, I wasn't going to think he was God's gift to women. Joe either. The boys had had life way too easy- sharing Stephanie just between the two of them. Well, I'm a whole new girl, and it was going to be a whole new game.

We were at the door now and Mac took my hand, giving it a friendly shake, then holding it for a second after. "Monday, same time."

"Cool," I nodded. "I'll be there," I turned to and stopped, my foot halfway out the door. Something was different. It had stopped raining, but it wasn't that... I frowned, looking up and down the street. Something was... "My car's gone!" I yelped, stepping the rest of the way out of the building, scanning the surroundings, like I expected it to show up in some random place like a rooftop. No such luck though. Mac walked out to stand next to me.

"What was it?" Huh, past tense. Guess this really wasn't a great neighborhood.

"A black CR-V." Please don't ask me the year. I don't have a clue.

"The kids around here are getting pretty bad about stealing suv's,' Mac sighed. "Come on back to the office, we'll call the cops."

Eeep. Cops? Cops... I cringed. Please please let this one be one Stephanie doesn't know. I am too tired to act today...

Forty five minutes later a blue an white pulled up and a younger cop climbed out, one who's name didn't match the descriptions in my head for any of the cops Stephanie regularly interacted with. He ambled over and practically stared at me.

"You're Stephanie Plum aren't you?" he asked. Oh boy.

"Yes. And half of what you've heard was not my fault or is completely made up."

"Can you give me the license plate number?"

"Um, not really... I-- I haven't had it that long..."

He grinned, like he was expecting that answer. "Don't worry. You're on the quick reference at the DMV."

"Figures. At least I had my purse and stuff with me." But not my file on Abruzzi, or my map, or the yellow pages... Merde.

A few more questions and the cop went on his way, leaving me simply thankful that Morelli hadn't put in an appearance. I was delaying dealing with him- he made me feel guilty. I don't know how the hell Steph dealt with it- feeling bad for choosing her job and stuff, much less the yelling. I hated yelling in an argument: it reminded me of my parents and memories I preferred to leave to another world. Joe made me yell, and he yelled, and he made me feel guilty. It gave me an instinctual urge to kick him and run, probably a result of being raised by a militant feminist. I sighed, zoning out as I watched the blue and white cop car drive away, adding it all to my list of grievances. Janet's letter was getting longer by the minute.

I nearly jumped a foot when Mac's hand settled on my shoulder. "I'll give you a ride," he said, smirking a little. "If you promise to be more-"

"Aware of my surroundings? You sound like Ranger," I wrinkled my nose at the thought. Poor Ranger he's going to have no lines left. "I promise though. It's just been a really long day. And you don't need to take me home, I'll call for a ride."

"I insist," he said, grinning. "Come on," he added, taking my arm. "I promise you're going to love my car."

He led me back inside the building and on through to the back. And he was right. I did love his car. This wasn't just a car, though. This was a Viper, blood red and shiny. I licked my lips just looking at it. I'm not much of a car girl, can barely change a tire, but some cars are just sex with wheels. I didn't need to ask how his car managed to not be stolen, it was the same reason Ranger could drive his Mercedes into the ghetto: Car thieves are generally not suicidal.

"Still want to call for a ride?" He was laughing at my expression.

"No. I'm in love with yours," I told him, still spellbound by the bright shiny metallic orgasm sitting in front of me.

"Damn, and I haven't even revved the engine yet."

I laughed and shot him an impish look. "Careful, you shouldn't overexcite a girl after a workout like I just had. I'm likely to swoon."

"Swooning is better that twitchy. I could handle swooning," he said with a wink, opening the passenger door for me. Ah, and who said chivalry is dead?

I slipped into the car and smiled. I waited until he slid behind the wheel to speak. "You just wanted to make sure I'd come back."

"Please, baby, I had you from hello," he laughed, revving the engine before we eased out of the lot and onto the street. "Now where to?"

I recited the address and relaxed into the seat to enjoy the ride. How anyone can not adore sleek, fast, gorgeous cars is just beyond me. Trucks, SUV's, have at them, I want a sporty car.

The ride wasn't nearly long enough, and too soon we were pulling to a stop outside Stephanie's building.

"Thanks, Mac," I said with a grateful smile. "It was a great ride."

"My pleasure, beautiful," he grinned. "It's the least I can do after you lose your car like that."

"Please, it's a given. The Car Gods hate me." And Janet wrote it that way. "I'll see you Monday."

"Wait!" he said, putting a hand on my arm to stop me from climbing out. "Take this." He pulled a card from the console and held it out. I took it and examined it- just a business card for the gym, but on the back were a couple extra numbers written in a clear bold hand. I looked up at him, curious. "Those are the numbers for my cell and my pager. Call me if you need anything." I smiled at the lack of icky emphasis on 'anything.'

"Aye-aye, Captain. Thanks again." He nodded, his eyes amused, and I finally angled out of the car.

I watched him drive away with a mixture of confusion and giddiness. Two hot new guys in one day, one with a date already set up one who just gave me his non-business numbers. Oh yeah, I rock. I am the goddess. I repressed the urge to do a victory dance, and settled for giving myself a victory pampering when I got to the apartment.

I was already plotting out which lotions to use when I climbed the last stair and entered the hallway, which was unfortunately occupied A tall and decidedly male figure with a very cute butt was loitering outside Stephanie's door.

Fuck! I tried to slip back into the stairway.

"Cupcake! I heard about your car..."

Here we go again. Screw the angry letter. Janet, I'm going to beat you when I get back.