Navigating Nine Chapter 05

Disclaimer: Behold, it is Janet's Universe, but with a different main character. And if you made it this far without noticing, wow. That's talent. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is not published and I am not making any money off it. Tragic, isn't it?

Note: Thank you to everyone for all the comments and support. You all rock socks, but you already know that.

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I hopped into the Jeep and set off for the grocery store. Tonight called forchocolate chip cookie doughice cream, courtesy of Ben and Jerry. Nothing remarkable happened until I was standing next to the Jeep, in the parking lot of the all-night grocery, holding my newly acquired ice cream and a plastic spoon snitched from the salad bar.

As I stood there, my right hand slowly going numb, I realized I didn't want to go to the manor. I didn't want to go back to Mom's. I didn't want to go to Dad's. I didn't even want to go back to the apartment.

Well, hell. This sucked. Where was I going to go?

If I went home to the Bat Cave I'd have to pretend that nothing was wrong or have a really long chat with Ranger. The problem was I wasn't completely sure what was wrong. Okay, fine fine that was a lie. I knew what was wrong.

What was wrong was that my mother was getting almost-married, and I wasn't sure what to do about it. The only thing I knew was that if I thought about it much I started feeling queasy and a little sea sick.

I didn't want to lose my mom. When mom was married she had been someone else entirely. I liked who she was now. I loved who she was now. I wouldn't know her if she got married. Marriage changed people. I was losing my mother to an accountant.

I opened the door of the Wrangler, tossed the ice cream into the passenger seat, and pulled out my cell phone, scrolling through numbers in search of inspiration. Lula was out on a date tonight, Connie was probably already in bed or dealing with husband number 5 (or was it six?), and I didn't feel up to explaining myself to Val, which left…

Wow. That didn't leave much. In fact that only left one number. I stared down at the LCD and picked up my ice cream again. I was going to need a few hits of cookie dough before I attempted this one. I finished my mini-carton too quickly for my own good and returned to staring at my phone.

I looked down at the empty mini carton and felt like crying. The rabbit hole just wouldn't end. Maybe I should go to TriBro. Getting shot by Clyde Cone couldn't be as bad as going slowly insane and not being able to tell anyone.

I sniffled and wished Dad wasn't in Canada. When one parent did something stupid, it always helped to go to the other one and vent. But that didn't help right now because Dad was out of touch- his cell phone didn't really get good reception at the hunting cabin. Damn it.

I was going to have to deal with the guys, then. I slumped in the seat as I turned the car on, suddenly tired.

So, what was it going to be? Home to the Batcave or… braving the unknown? I pursed my lips, trying to think what Stephanie would have done. Ugh. I knew what Stephanie would have done. Stephanie would have called Morelli. Stephanie would have gone back to her apartment. And damn it, what was I doing! I was not Stephanie.

Feeling righteously defiant, I dialed the remaining number and crossed my fingers. It rang twice before it was picked up.

"Wondered where you'd gotten to." I could almost hear a smile in Mac's voice.

"Sorry, I've been out of commission."

"I never would have pegged you as one for understatement, cutie. What can I do for you?"

I hesitated, but my desire for distraction quickly won out over any amount of caution I had. "I was wondering what you were up to tonight? I know it's kinda short notice and all but… I just… was hoping we could, you know, hang out or talk or something."

There was silence for a moment. "You're scaring me, kid. You don't do serious well."

"Tell me about it…" I felt my smile getting wobbly as my voice shook a little. "If you're busy that's cool," I said quickly.

"I'm not busy. I'm just finishing up some stuff at the dojo. I'll wait for you here."

My conscience whispered that I should tell him to forget it and go home, but it unfortunately used a voice that sounded suspiciously like my mom's, so I ignored it. "Thanks, I owe you one."

Mac chuckled. "You owe me way more than one by now. A good thing I like you." And he hung up.

I stuck my tongue out at the phone, flipped it closed, and headed to the gym.

Mac was waiting in the lobby when I pulled up out front. I had barely hit the pavement and shut my door when he motioned me on to his red Porsche. I raised an eyebrow at his new choice of vehicle.

He caught the look and grinned as he opened my door for me. "You got me hooked on them. Never seen anyone make destroying a transmission look so hot."

I tried not to giggle, but failed miserably. "Well, I live to amuse."

It was the last we spoke until Mac merged onto the highway. "So, to what emergency do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Maybe I just missed you?"

Mac's eyebrow rose as he glanced at me. In the shifting patterns of headlights I could have almost mistaken him for Ranger. "Try again."

I sighed and slumped back against the leather seat. "I needed to get out. Mom's getting handfasted, and something almost as bad is going to happen and I can't stop it and… and I'm going crazy. I wouldn't have bothered you, but Lula is on a date and Connie is finishing up her divorce and Ranger… I just couldn't talk to Ranger." I shook my head, feeling sillier by the moment, and turned to look at him.

"And then I thought, hey, I have my own Jedi Master. So I was hoping you could help me out, General Kenobi. Give me some words of ancient wisdom and stuff."

"And stuff," Mac echoed, with a pained look. "So, what is this that is going down that might be worse than your mom getting—handfasted? And what is handfasted? It sounds like some sort of surgical procedure."

I decided to ignore his first question for the moment. "It's like marriage, but different. Sort of a trial run marriage if you go with the old tradition- you would marry someone for a year and a day to see how it went then decide whether or not to make it permanent."

"Sounds like a good idea. Could have saved me a fortune in alimony…"

"You're divorced?"

Mac inclined his head, but didn't elaborate. "So what is worse than the trial marriage?"

"Nothing, it's just I have a bad feeling about this case we're all working on—looking for this Samuel Singh geek who skipped on his visa bond."

I had learned my lesson that night in Abruzzi's cabin. I was going to make sure someone else knew what might go down well in advance. "He worked at TriBro- and one of the owners of that was linked to a really nasty murder a couple years ago."

"Sounds like an average day at the office for you," Mac said, calmly.

I gritted my teeth. "Yeah, it's just... a bad feeling, I guess."

Mac slid his eyes to give me a quick, unreadable look, then turned back to the traffic as we turned off the road and into a parking lot out front of a small diner. "Maybe you're still jumpy after the Abruzzi thing. Maybe you need a little more time away from murders and psychopaths."

He was right. I was still jumpy, and I wasn't ready for this adventure. I didn't have Stephanie's resilience, I guessed, but Janet wasn't really giving me an option. I could quit the bounty hunting for a while, and let Clyde continue the killing game, because hey, they were mainly just killing each other right? But what about that cop they had killed the last game… who would be next if I stepped out of it?

I bit my lip, thinking that my ethics teacher should have given this dilemma to us. Well, maybe he had… Your life or a stranger's, who do you pick?

I almost jumped out of my skin as Mac's arm came around my shoulders. He gave me another look I couldn't interpret. I was going to have to get a Martian decoder ring or something. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings."

I opened my mouth to give him the retort I had given Bobby, but didn't have the heart for it. Instead I went the simple route. "Grrr."

Mac almost smiled. "Cute."

We got a seat in the back and the waitress almost managed not to drool as she took our orders. Mac told me about some new classes they were adding to the dojo, and quizzed me on a few moves. He and my dance teacher had that in common- if you couldn't actually do the routines, you should go over them in your head.

He corrected me a few times and I was ready to kiss the waitress when she showed up with the food. I didn't want to have to list off tricky martial arts names anymore.

Midway through dinner, Mac's phone rang, and while he had a short, clipped, typical convo, I stirred my milkshake, attempting to make a perfect spiral. It was a lot harder than it looked.

I watched as he flipped his phone shut and glanced out the window. "Enemies at the gates?" I asked.

"Not yet." He was looking at my milkshake. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?"

I smirked. "Nah, she was too busy teaching me about tantric sex."

Mac shook his head. Not the shocked reaction I had hoped for. "You are a twisted little girl."

"Yep. And you love me for it." I flipped my hair for good measure.

"You have no idea."

I blinked, trying to puzzle out what that response was about, and gave up. "So… There's a question I've been dying to ask you…" Mac eyed me warily, and my smile widened. "It's about Smurfs..."

No one was on the main floor when I got back to Wayne Manor. Normally at least one of the guys would have materialized, but I was too tired to question my luck. Probably they'd just checked the cameras for once. Yawning for the benefit of said cameras, I trudged upstairs.

I didn't allow myself to think anything until I was safe behind the closed bedroom door; and even then it was only a moment of thanks that Ranger was still elsewhere. Without further ado, I stripped off my clothes, pulled on a nightie, and crawled into bed. Everything else could wait, because Scarlett was in control, assuring me that there would be plenty of time to worry about it tomorrow when I felt better. I sniffled, burying my head in my pillow. Staying here with Ranger, being all grown up and stuff was great, really it was, but I missed my teddy bear.

That was officially my last thought before someone touched my shoulder. I swatted the hand away and burrowed further into the blankets.

"Babe, wake up," Ranger's voice was warm with humor. Damned morning bats.

"Mmphmmntm," I mumbled into the pillow, not even bothering to enunciate. He had ESP, he could figure out that meant: "Go away damn it. I'm sleeping. Go do something useful. Take over a small corporation. Incite an insurgency. Stage a coup. Just do it somewhere else."

"You have thirty seconds or I'm getting the ice water." Devious little monkey.

"Sup?" I asked, sighing heavily as I was forced to open my eyes, blinking at the amount of sunlight streaming into the room.

"I've got a job for you."

I squinted up at his faintly-smiling face. Mmm, he hadn't shaved. That could be fun. "Job?" I asked, thinking of several jobs that I'd have liked to do just then, although most of them weren't fit for polite résumés. Ranger's eyes darkened and I was suddenly aware of the fact that my nightie was a sheer clingy scrap of white courtesy of Victoria Secret.

I stretched for his benefit, arching my and extending my arms.

"Babe, we need to work on your timing," he said, his voice slightly lower than normal. My smile was slow and smirk-y.

"No, we need to work on your anal retentive attention to schedules. You rule the world, it's okay to be late sometimes."

"I don't rule the world."

"Well, you're the big boss CEO thingy. Same difference."

Ranger shook his head, apparently giving up on trying to explain the hierarchy of the business para-military type world. Probably it would take too many words. "I need you to go undercover for the day."

I blinked, suddenly much more unpleasantly awake, and just a little wary. "Undercover where?"

"TriBro."

"Oh good," I said, relaxing a little. "I'm still asleep."

He shook his head and gently tugged on a lock of my hair. "No you're not."

"You just said you want me to work undercover at TriBro," I pointed out. "One of us is obviously dreaming."

"Babe, it's only for the day."

I bit my lip and sat up, pulling my legs in to wrap my arms around my knees, my eyes never leaving Ranger. This wasn't going to be pretty, and I didn't want to do this, but… "No."

Ranger blinked, and I swore something like surprised flashed across his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, his eyebrow raising slightly.

"What do you think?" I retorted. "I told you I'd help any way I could, as long as I didn't have to go near TrollBros."

There was a couple beats of silence. "None of the guys can do it."

"And that's my issue? Maybe if you had some less scary people on pay roll…"

Ranger smirked. "You are the less scary people."

"Then I quit. I have to go get some prison tattoos this morning, and I have a date with Hell's Angels for lunch. I'm booked solid."

He was watching my closely, and I could feel his dark brown eyes going into armor piercing mode. He was using ESP X-Ray vision on me. No fair. "Please," he said quietly.

That one bloody syllable, spoken so… so… so Ranger-like…

"FINE!" I exploded, throwing the covers off of myself and practically jumping out of the bed. "Fine, whatever. I'll go work at TrollBro!" I huffed, stomping to the closet and grabbing the first of my T-shirts I saw. I whirled on him, brandishing the hangar to illustrate my point.

"But when I get stalked, molested, and murdered, I want you to remember that I am coming back and haunting you, Higgs."

"I'll remember," he said, but he wasn't smiling. I didn't care. He had just gotten me to go into the Hellmouth, alone against the Master, and I couldn't even explain it. I hated not being able to explain stuff.

I glared at him, put the hangar back in the closet and stormed into the bathroom with my bundle of clothes for the day, locking the door behind me. Not that it was going to do anything, but it was more to make a point.

By the time I showered, dressed, did the make-up and got downstairs Ranger was gone and so were Les and Tank. The housekeeper, a nice Puerto Rican lady named Rosa, was busy vacuuming one of the other rooms. I grabbed the lone leftover bagel on the kitchen counter, a courtesy from Tank, and headed off to face the unknown. Well, not entirely the unknown, more like the uncertain.

There were days it really sucked to be me. I had a feeling this was going to be one of them.