Surviving Stephanie Chapter 16

Note: This is a great deal of Janet's fault. It was just too twisted without even Alyssa's help.

Disclaimer: We accept no liability for any therapy bills resulting from reading this chapter.

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Mac looked up from his position behind the front desk when I walked in to greet me with a truly killer smile. "Ready for another round?"

I nodded. I needed to work off the pent up frustration before I had a psychotic episode. Or before the current psychotic episode spun out of control… however you wanted to look at it. "Ready when you are, Obi-Wan."

The corner of his mouth quirked and he led me back to the small room he called a training area and I privately considered a dance studio. I figured I'd mention my idea later, when I could hold my own against him for more than five seconds. Today was not that day. Probably tomorrow wouldn't be it either.

This realization hit me the same time the mat did, about half a heartbeat into the session. By the end of the hour I was really getting a fine and intimate knowledge of the mat, but I was also getting the bonus of getting a fairly good knowledge of Mac. Granted it was generally as he was flipping me around like a rag doll, but hey, a girl has to have some optimism.

"You're doing really well, Stephanie," he insisted. For an inept chick, I added mentally.

"Thanks. Even if you're being nice."

He just shook his head. "This is your second time. Don't expect miracles. Why don't we work on some simple holds for securing suspects?" He took my arm and pinned it behind me. "Now, what's the problem with this?"

Now this position was a little uncomfortable, and I knew exactly what was wrong with it. Without missing a beat I bent at the waist and spun out, bringing my other arm around to catch him in the side, startling him enough that I was able just barely to pull my wrist out of his grasp and stumble a couple steps back. Mac wasn't by any means incapacitated but I was loose and that was enough for me.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, looking a little surprised. I bit my lip and shrugged.

"The first part of a sweetheart." Mac blinked and looked blank.

"A what?"

"A sweetheart. It's a dance move." He shook his head, the beginning of a smile appearing on his handsome face.

"Improvisation. That's good, Stephanie. Now, the standard way for getting out of that is similar," he said, pulling me back into the position and guiding me through a much more dignified series of moves.

After the beating was finally over, I was feeling much less in danger of killing someone, and much more in danger of keeling over. I was sweaty, disheveled, and starving. Mac showed me the girls' locker room and I took a much-needed shower, changed into the set of clothes I'd brought and emerged a much happier girl. Still, it was with a sense of apprehension that I poked my head out the door to check for my car. I really didn't want to explain a second one getting stolen to Ranger. Then again, it was Ranger's. Of course it was still there. No one steals Rambo's car.

"Need a ride?" Mac asked from behind me. I jumped and let the door shut as I turned to face him, feeling a blush creeping up my face.

"Nope. Still there, thank god. This one's a loner."

"One of Ric's," Mac nodded. I wondered if there was some sort of glowing neon sign on it that I couldn't see.

"Yeah, how'd you-" Mac just grinned and I was forced to roll my eyes. "Never mind. Anyway, thanks for the lesson. When do you want me back?"

"Tomorrow. Same time."

"Cool," I said, smiling. "See you then!" I called back as I stepped out into the street. I had an increased kicking-ass factor, a decreased frustration quotient, and I was going to get to see Vinnie tangle with the schizoid Bender.

I guess I should have read number eight a little better. I wouldn't have made that quick stop at the apartment. I wouldn't have finally been cornered by The Clown.

I stared at the pudgy, lumpy little Pillsbury Doughboy in front of me holding the bag of Chinese food and sighed. I couldn't be mean to him because that would be like kicking a puppy. I couldn't scream and runaway because that would be… hey, why couldn't I? The idea held that glimmering promise of a freshly opened tub of strawberry sorbet. I could just run away screaming and then…. And then Joe and Ranger and probably others would send me to a psych ward and stare at me through a little glass window forever. Blech.

I stood aside and let the Clown in, silently vowing that I would send Janet a litter of 15 cocker spaniel puppies as payback. She could take them with her to that third world country I shipped her to.

"I didn't know if you liked Chinese but I-"

"I love Chinese. Thanks Albert," I cut him off and opened the fridge. "Beer or water?"

"Gee isn't it a little early to be drinking? I mean, not that it's really early early, and of course…"

I zoned out and handed him a bottle of water. I looked down at my own bottle, wishing longingly for it to be filled with Captain Morgan.

"What's this?" Vinnie asked when I showed up at Bender's with Clownboy in tow.

"Albert Kloughn, attorney at law," I quoted, relieved I at least remembered a line for once, while giving Vinnie my best Bitch Look. As in: 'I have my gun fully loaded. Bitch, please.' So what if I didn't know how to use the stupid gun. The barrel points at the other person, you squeeze the trigger. I had figured out how to put the bullets in. And I bet you don't have to be that talented to shoot a weasel. "I invited him along," I added in my dire warnings voice.

Okay, I was being a little huffy. I'd been in the company of Albert Kloughn for over an hour. I never claimed I was Ghandi. Elizabeth I maybe, or Cleopatra even… but then, everyone's been Cleopatra at some time or another.

"He looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy," Vinnie commented. I shrugged.

"I brought Chinese food," Albert volunteered, holding up a small bag of leftovers I had refused to keep. "It was one of those last minute things. I just felt like- Oohff!" Lula had snatched the bag and was pawing through it like a ravenous wolf.

"I don't want to take a lawyer on a bus," Vinnie said carefully, giving me a wary look. Guess I was looking as bitchy as I felt. Good. Let him know it's Weasel Season.

"I won't sue you! I swear!" Kloughn put in, and started off on some tangeant I just didn't want to hear. Something about a gun. He'd been very eager to help my load mine. As incompetent as I might be, I knew better than to let him touch it.

"Vests?" I asked Vinnie.

"You want a vest?" he looked scandalized. I nodded. I wasn't sure but I thought that Vinnie tended to shoot a lot in these situations. Weasels being kind of twitchy and all.

He sighed and led me over to get suited up. "You been spending too much time with Ranger," he muttered. I raised an eyebrow at him. He twitched. I had a new game. Luckily he turned away so he didn't get to see me fight a huge case of the giggles.

When everyone was armed and fitted out with Kevlar, Vinnie cleared his throat and looked imperious. I wouldn't have thought he had it in him, but just for a moment he did, until he spoke.

"Listen up, I have a plan, and I expect every one to do their parts."

"Oh boy," Lula said, "a plan." I smirked, agreeing fully.

"Stephanei and I will take the front doors," Vinnie said. "Lula and the clown take the back. We enter at the same time and subdue the bastard." I rolled my eyes. "All you have to do," he continued, "is wait for me to yell 'Bond Enforcement!' then we crash in with everyone yelling 'freeze… bond enforcement." I wondered if my eye would start tweaking soon.

"I always wanted to crash down a door and yell stuff," Lula said.

I shook my head. Overrated, although I'd never done it with a gun before… but Janessa and I had kicked in that door one time to catch her then-boyfriend in bed with Mr. Strade's wife… I was distracted from my musings by Lula taking a Glock out of her purse and shoving it into the waistband of her canary yellow spandex skirt. I blinked, momentarily amazed. I would have bet money it wouldn't have fit.

"I have flashlight in case the lights go off," Kloughn chimed in, holding up the Mag light.

I smiled, wondering if I locked Kloughn and Ranger in a room together who would live and for how long. I added it to my list of evil plots, just behind slipping Mrs. Plum and Valerie the Mooner Magic Brownies. "So, do we even know if the guy's home?" I asked more to get my mind off my own devious ideas than to actually find out.

"Looks like someone's watching tv," Albert said.

"We need to get closer and take a look," Vinnie ordered. So we all followed him, creeping through the grass to press up against the building and listen under the windows. I was glad Lula's wished-for TV crew hadn't arrived. I didn't want to think what we looked like. A valley girl in Kevlar, a paunchy weasel with too many guns, a Pillsbury Doughboy with a flashlight, and a large lady in dayglo yellow spandex with a gun stuck in her waistband.

Thank god Ranger and the Merry Men weren't around. This was below even amateur level in their world.

Meanwhile, we were definitely pressed up against a building wherein a porno was being watched… watched… oh, no. Wait a second… this wasn't in this book was it? Pleaee Janet, please don't let it be in this book…

Lula and Kloughn headed for the back while I followed Vinnie to the front door, reluctantly. I was heading before the firing squad. Except worse. Maybe I better tell Jack I'll need those therapy sessions after all…

Vinnie drew his gun and banged on the door. "Bond enforcement!" he yelled. "Open up!" He took a step back, ready to bust in the door when we heard Lula's Amazonian war cry echo from the back to the accompaniment of splintering door. We didn't have a chance to move. The front door burst open and naked men started running out.

Naked men I really didn't want to see naked. I flashed back to the Riviera my Junior year, when the very bronze, very 200 lb man in a speedo had jogged by. Only this time there was no speedo. And I wasn't on a beach in the Riviera, I was in the projects in Jersey. I might have blacked out.

Inside still more men, in various stages of nudity or even a few fully dressed were waving guns, some while they tried to pull up their pants. I don't think anyone noticed Vinnie's gun added into all of it.

It would have been a bit harder to miss Lula however. She stood in the midst of the chaos, waving her own Glock. "This is a bond enforcement operation! Stop running!"

Finally Vinnie fired off a round and took out a chunk of ceiling. After which the only people left were the four of us .No Bender. Not that I could really tell. I was having trouble focusing.

There was this episode of Married… With Children where Al saw his mom-in-law naked and went blind. Hysterical blindness he called it. I now knew what it meant. And I thought he'd made it up. Sorry Al, I'll never doubt you again.

"Vinnie? Is that you?" A woman called from somewhere. Oh gods, Vinnie and the Porn Star… No. Nonono. I'm not living through this. I'm not.

A large-breasted naked woman bounded out of the bedroom. Her pubic hair was in a thunderbolt shape. Oh sweet Krispy Kremes… you know, if you dyed it purple…

"Are you looking for Andy?" she asked as a second woman followed her out. I let Vinnie handle the conversation, and didn't even have the energy left to comment when Albert gave them his business cards.

I kept seeing unhealthily naked men running by and was feeling the urge to reach out to my inner bulimic. Someone get the license plate number of that fat man. I have just been violated.