Surviving Stephanie Chapter 10
Disclaimer: No Janets were harmed in the making of this fan fic.
Note: We solemnly swear we are up to no good.
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I gritted my teeth and turned back to face my opponent. Okay, so he wasn't actually an opponent, more like that unlucky penny you just can't seem to permanently get yourself away from. At least he was cute, even if I sort of thought the penny would buy me more stuff. Morelli didn't seem to be the buy you lot's of stuff kind of guy I preferred to date. I'm not shallow, I just enjoy tokens of affection, like flowers or teddy bears, jewelry even.
I looked at Morelli, playing the consummate bad boy in his fitted jeans, leather biker jacket, complete with sexy touseled hair and a motorcycle helmet under one arm. Not a lot of flowers and teddy bears coming from that direction. And if the books read right, not a lot of hot clubs or show tickets either. Janet, is it too much to ask that a guy be at once sexy, nice, and willing to pamper a girl with something besides oral sex or a Porsche?
Don't answer that.
"My car, huh?" I asked, walking to the door and unlocking it. "Thanks for checking up on me."
Morelli followed me in and made himself at home, placing the helmet on the counter before opening the fridge. Must remember he is the ex, must remember not to lecture on manners...
"So," he said, apparently giving up on the empty fridge to turn back to me. "Where were you last night?" The light in his eyes was dangerous, pushy. Mom's ex-boyfriend cop used to have the same look right before he interrogated my boyfriends.
"Out," I said with a shrug, brushing past him to pull out a box of Wheat Thins.
"Out?" uh oh, the volume was up a notch. "Someone is pissed off enough to leave a bag of snakes on your doorstep, and you're out by yourself-"
"I had Lula with me," I interjected. Morelli rolled his eyes.
"With Lula, unreachable, anything could have happened..."
"Damn Joe, those maternal instincts sure do kick in after thirty..." I couldn't help it, my mouth just ran away with my brain. I shoved a Wheat Thin in my mouth and munched it to endure his glare without further risks.
"Why do I bother? You drive me crazy! Do you know that?" He seethed, although his voice lowered a little.
"You know the old saying, something about a short trip... Anyway, I'm sorry. I didn't hear my phone over the noise in the club, and I was probably too drunk to answer anyway. I got this speech from Ranger already, though, so if you don't mind can we skip to the end?"
"Ranger?" Morelli's eyes narrowed. Whoops, wrong time to mention that name. I cringed as he raked a hand through his hair and looked murderous. "Is that where you were last night? You weren't here, or with your parents. Lula was off with his right-hand thug..."
"Actually, yeah. He thought I was too drunk to leave me by myself," at least I assumed that was the reason, "so he let me crash at his apartment over the Cameron office. No biggie."
"Right, and that's all that happened?" He snorted in disbelief.
"Yeah, Joe, that's all. I was too drunk and he doesn't take advantage of that, whatever else you think about him."
"And that makes him a saint on Earth..." he scoffed.
"No," I glared at him for that. "But I somehow doubt I could say the same thing for you. Now, like I said, thanks for checking on me, but I'm fine. I'm exhausted and I need some peace and quiet." I gestured toward the door, slipping a fake smile onto my face and hoping for the best
"You're a piece of work, Cupcake," Joe smirked. "Defending that two-bit mercenary when-"
"I didn't defend him, really. It was more that I insulted you," I explained with false patience. "Let me give you a hint: From now on, it might benefit you to spend more time and attention on any relationship between us than a possible relationship between me and Ranger, or me and anyone else for that matter." I felt it better to drop that particular hint now, so he couldn't say he'd had no warning later, but I didn't think he caught it.
"Excuse me? We don't have a relationship, you broke up with me," Morelli pointed out, taking a step toward me.
"There are all kinds of broken up, which do you want to be?" I asked, tilting my head to the side, curious. "Do you prefer we remain friends, we cut off all contact, we secretly despise one another while keeping a publicly amicable facade, or we flat out hate one another? Because if you keep trashing my friends, you're definitely aiming at the last one."
Morelli's frown deepened as I listed the choices, then remained silent for a long moment after I finished. "What the hell are you talking about, Stephanie?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm talking about you laying off of Ranger. Green doesn't suit you."
Morelli scowled, then made his move too quickly for me to avoid. He grabbed my shirt, pulled me to him, and kissed me. Did I mention he was a good kisser, like, championship quality kisser? I almost lost it, almost wrapped myself around him and surrendered to the liquid fire racing through my veins. Almost.
Instead I placed my hands flat against his chest and shoved away from him. He looked as surprised as I was to find us separated again, although he still had a firm hold on my shirt.
"Not nice, Joseph," I gasped. "Go find someone else to play with, I'm disinclined to indulge you."
Joe shook his head, puzzled. "You drive me crazy."
And you give me the urge to nail you in the shins, Joey Boy. I just shrugged at the accusation and let him storm out the door in a possibly deserved Italian temper. I liked the guy, but he needed to be taught a lesson. Kind of like Batman.
I smiled to myself and turned to my silent partner. "It's definitely time Batman and the Italian Stallion take a lesson from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, isn't it, Hamtaro?"
Rex stopped running on the wheel long enough to give me what I considered a conspiratorial look. See, the hamster agrees, and he's usually the brightest one in the stories. I turned my thoughts to the fun plans I'd been formulating while I got ready to jump in the shower.
Stephanie might think best lying flat on the bed, but I get my greatest ideas in the shower. All that time lathering, rinsing, shaving and scrubbing gave my brain plenty of time to think, probably because I've never been distracted by the shower massager, preferring as I did to self-combust in a proper bed. Self-combusting in a shower or even a tub just sounded like an accident waiting to happen. And knowing Janet's twisted sense of humor, I wasn't about to risk trying it out. Ever.
Unfortunately the shower didn't give me any great insights tonight, just time to think over my situation. I still probably had Abruzzi after me, despite my complete ignoring of the entire case. I still had to hook up Valerie and Albert Kloughn, although I personally saw absolutely no reason on earth why I should do so. I had avoided Kloughn contamination so far, why spoil it now? And from my brief exposure to them at the hospital I'd already had enough of Stephanie's family and sibling for a lifetime, except for Grandma Mazur. I liked her, and possibly the Dad.
As for Mrs. Plum and Valerie, I had the unholy urge to hook them up with some Prozac. Okay, so I was actually thinking more along the lines of magic brownies, but that would be wrong. Funny, but wrong. Appropriate, but wrong. Hilarious, but wrong. I sighed to myself as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I really wasn't evil, I was just... creative.
Anyway, I had more important things than families that weren't mine to worry about: I had a date tomorrow with a really cute psychiatrist. Who worked for Ranger. I giggled as I started working some anti-frizz stuff through my hair, wondering what the man in black thought of Stephanie dating one of his employees. Even more intriguing was what Joe was going to think when he found out Stephanie was out on a date at Rossini's with a RangeMan employee.
I paused, looking at the girl in the mirror thoughtfully. I knew their reactions would be very telling, whatever they were. Well, maybe with Ranger his lack of reaction might have been a better way to word it. Joe was just going to be stunned, and then move straight to pissed most likely, but Ranger was another ballgame. He cared about her a lot more than he let on, I knew this already from lifelong exposure to cowboys. And a cowboy by any other term is still a cowboy. It's just a different pair of boots.
Thinking about cowboys brought me back to my wider dilemma: The fact that the girl in the mirror was still not me. I was more comfortable in her skin, I was adjusting to her life- okay, I was adjusting her life to me- but it boiled down to the same in the end: I could not and would not be Stephanie Plum. Not now, not ever. She and I were alike, but we were very much from different worlds. And I would, eventually need to leave hers. My dream theory was falling by the wayside with each passing moment, but what other explanation did I have?
The blue eyes that weren't mine showed my inner worries, the edge of fear that was beginning to creep into me. Where was the real Stephanie? Was she even now adjusting my life as I was adjusting hers? Was she dead? I shivered at that thought, my imagination spinning it out into a story on its own. Maybe that was the problem: we were both dead, but I'd been given one of those second chance deals like in the movies? You know, where George Carlin or some comedian plays the bumbling St. Peter, who offers the mortal another chance at life in someone else's body with entertaining results?
I was giving myself a headache, I realized. I slowly closed my eyes and concentrated, going through my old standby chakra-cleansing ritual. I was muddled, too muddled to be useful to myself. I needed clarity. After a quick run down my chakra points, I resumed working on my hair. As soon as I was gelled and ready, I headed to bed. As my beloved inner Scarlett directed, I would think about it tomorrow.
I put on a pair of cute boy cut undies, a large t-shirt and slipped into bed. The day's accomplishments: I'd kept the New Jersey accent gone the whole time, I had been the first to exit a conversation with Ranger, I'd started exercising, scored a date, scored some digits, and I'd resisted a Morelli kiss. All in all, not bad for my second day as a lunatic. I smiled contentedly as I drifted off. Not bad at all...
I didn't feel like I'd been asleep for more than a moment when I was jolted awake again. I frowned into the darkness of a room I didn't recognize, remaining completely still until I could remember who and where I was. The clock by the bed said it was two in the morning. I hate cities- probably some stupid kid's car backfiring or... I rolled over and nearly screamed. Someone was staning outside the window. Oh my god... someone really big and muscular and...
I was frozen in place, barely breathing, waiting for the hulking shadow to move. Waiting... Waiting... Waiting... I bit my lip and started counting in my head. I got to a hundred and I hadn't even seen the guy take a breath. Freakish. Okay, maybe he's passed out... if I move really, really slowly...
I scooted myself backward toward the other edge of the bed as slowly as I could, keeping my eyes glued to the unmoving shadow. Maybe he wasn't looking in, maybe he was just outside looking at the glorious view of nothing... I tumbled backward off the bed and into a very painful heap on the floor, taking the blankets with me and letting out a very loud shriek.
I fought the blankets off and scrambled for the door, before the intruder could attack me-- I paused at the door and looked back.He was just standing there. Okay, what the--- "JANET!" I yelled furiously, as the truth finally dawned on me. "You WENCH!" I added as I stormed toward the window and yanked it open.
The cardboard cut-out of Benito Ramirez nearly fell on top of me. Instead I caught it and dragged it into the apartment before slamming the window shut once again. I stomped back over to the wall and flipped on the lights. God, he was ugly. Who the hell wanted a life-size replica of that mug?
I was so pissed I was shaking. Fuckers. At least this gave me something to do with my anger. I grabbed the cutout by its head and dragged it into the hallway, out to the living room where I left it in front of the TV while I flipped on more lights and ransacked the kitchen drawers until I found the objects I was looking for.
I stood over Ramirez's likeness with an exacto knife and a sharpie, and I was pretty sure the look on my face could have been described as 'unholy glee.'
"Sorry Benny-boo, but I'm feeling creative again. I know you understand," I told the cutout as sweetly as I could while I flipped on the television and set to work. "I've been missing my art class anyway," I added, laughing as the TV began playing the title song to Clueless. Behind Buffy, Cher was my second idol.
I sang along with the music as I popped the lid off the Sharpie. "I'm gonna be a supermodel..." In fact I was so intent on my new project I didn't realize someone was at the door until the security chain slid free. I sent a cursory glance to the door in time to see a flash of mocha skin and black cargos and rolled my eyes.
"Yo," I called out. "There's this thing normal people do, tapping knuckles against the door- it makes this really cool knocking noise. Ever heard of it?"
"Babe-" There was a beat of silence, and then another. I sort of felt him moving further into the room before he spoke again. "What are you doing?"
"Making a message. I'm going for 'Fuck the hell off and take your stupid Hannibal Lector wannabe pranks with you, you little Napoleonic Creep,' but I'm not sure it's clear enough yet..." I sat back and admired my handiwork critically. "I think it needs some bubblegum pink liptick... maybe blue eyeshadow. Or would that be overdoing it?" I looked up to get his opinion.
Ranger's eyebrows were both raised as he eyed my creation. "Interesting message."
"They left the stupid thing on my fire escape, and it disturbed my beauty sleep. Plus it really pissed me off."
"I can tell."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry, I'm calmed down now. Art is therapeutic, you know."
"Yeah, maybe you should show this to Jack?"
"Why?" I asked, holding up my hand to let him pull me to my feet. "This is Abysmal's message. Fucker. I was having this really nice dream too, about Russell Crowe in that gladiator outfit-" Ranger's arms pulled me into a hug, short circuiting my brain. Mmm, Ranger hug. Bulgari. Russell who? I leaned against him and laughed when he kissed my forehead.
"That why you ah... mutilated him?" Typical guy, focusing on the hole in the crotch.
"Nah, that was just for general principles. The warning list of STD's on his back is the revenge for Maximus."