This story was born out of a 'Just for Fun' challenge issued by one of the members in the JE FF Facebook group. The challenge...write a Babe short (Ranger/Steph) where the author was to insert him/herself into the story as an OC who meets or gets involved with the merry man of your choosing. And just know, everything created for Sienna in this story is a complete fabrication and is in now way any kind of reflection of my actual life.

Chapter 1

My name is Sienna Stapleton. I'm a thirty something, (because you know, no woman tells her real age), part time erotic romance author and, until last year, I was a wife and a full-time office manager. My employer was a large real estate company that handled several of the local malls and corporate buildings in the Indianapolis area.

If you look at my family tree, you'll find a mix of nationalities, including German, English, French, and according to my grandmother, a bit of American Indian. Though even after an extensive family tree search, I have yet to substantiate her claim. Nor does anything in my heritage explain how I was blessed to be one of the four tenths of a percent of people in the world with the rare combination of red curly hair and green eyes.

I grew up as a typical mid-western girl, in a small, non-descript town, about an hour away from Indianapolis. When I was a kid, my frame was lean, wiry, and extremely athletic, but puberty has a way of wreaking havoc on a woman's body. By the time I hit high school I was five foot six, with a C cup and curves in all the right places. What I quickly realized was without a proper diet and exercise routine, those curves could easily grow out of control.

The extent of my education is an associate degree in business from my local community college. The rest came from the school of hard knocks.

So how in the hell did a green eyed, red-headed mid-western girl end up working as an office manager for Rangeman in Trenton New Jersey? Well…you see, it's kind of a kookie story.

I had just stepped out of the Tasty Pastry, after stopping for a Saturday morning vanilla cream and a glazed donut, before I headed into my half day of work, when sudden movement to my left caught my eye. I turned just in time to see a car barreling down the street. Its erratic movements had me worried and my attention cut across to the other side of the parking lot where a curly haired brunette was standing next to a beat-up Honda CRV.

"Hey," I shouted, as I threw my pastry bag and purse in my car, then began to run toward her as the realization set in that she was on the phone and wouldn't hear me. What happened next is still a bit of a blur. I was running toward her, when the squeal of tires sent a fresh shot of fear through me, and I sped up as I glanced over in time to see the car lose it. It swerved toward the parking lot.

Afraid I wasn't going to reach her in time, I took a running dive at the woman. "Look out," I yelled, as I grabbed her, yanking her away from the car just as the out-of-control vehicle jumped the curb and slammed into the driver's side of her Honda.

The sound of metal grinding against metal, of glass shattering and the mini explosions of air bags going off filled the air as I slammed to the ground just a few feet away. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and I struggled to suck in air as I heard her body make a thud next to mine. I was still trying to catch my breath, and deal with the pain now coursing through me when a woosh sound had my skin prickling with awareness. The explosion that happened next was loud enough to cause temporary hearing loss. A sudden scalding heat blew over me. I struggled to roll away and by doing so, ended up becoming a human barrier between the brunette and the fire.

With the initial explosion over, the extension of the fire pulled back to the two cars, and I scrambled to my feet just as the brunette did the same. Pain shot up from my right ankle, but fear of another explosion happening when we were so close, had me ignoring it. Together, we made it a few feet away before other bystanders stopped to help us, and I collapsed to the ground. Within seconds I could hear sirens and knew at least I hadn't completely lost my hearing from the explosion.

Finally, after several minutes of trying to catch our breath, the brunette turned to me. "I never saw the car coming."

I nodded as I gulped in air. "You. Were. On. Your phone," I managed to say. "I. Tried. To warn you."

She looked from me to the flaming wreckage and back. "You saved my life."

I nodded as my breathing began to even out. "It appears that way." I extended a hand. "Sienna Stapleton."

"Stephanie Plum," she replied. "You can call me Steph."

"Nice to meet you, Stephanie Plum." I said as I pulled back to rest my arm on my bloody knee. That's when I took a moment to really assess myself. I'm pretty sure I'd wacked my head on the concrete sidewalk, which would explain why I now had a major headache. My shoulder hurt, which I'm sure was at least bruised from the impact of landing on the ground. My hip on the same side hurt and the knees on both my pant legs were torn, revealing scraped and bloody skin beneath and if I didn't know better, I may have sprung my ankle.

I frowned as I looked over at Stephanie, who honestly didn't look that much better off. She sat next to me and grinned. "You're a mess."

"You don't look so great yourself," I replied with a smile. Then I very slowly shook my head. "TV and movies always make doing that look so easy. They always show the hero and the victim coming out unscathed."

"They lie." Her grin returned momentarily, then faltered. "Great," she muttered, and I turned in time to see a very good-looking man climb from what appeared to be a beat-up unmarked cop car. He wore a scowl on his face as he approached us.

"What the hell, Cupcake?" he said, and my brows winged up in surprise. The word cupcake was an obvious use of an endearment, yet his tone lacked that of a concerned boyfriend or lover.

Stephanie pushed up from where we'd been sitting and took a step toward him. "Don't start, Joe."

"Don't start," he echoed. "I never finished from the last disaster you got yourself into." He gestured to where the firemen were continuing to pour water on the now smoking CRV. "Which one of your skips decided to blow up this car?"

"It's not what you think," she replied.

"What I think is that it's time you give up this job, leave Manoso and marry me, like you're meant to."

Well, that had to be the absolute worst marriage proposal I'd ever heard and being a part time author, I've heard and written just a few over the years.

I watched with fascination as her entire body straightened and her eyes narrowed on him. The air practically vibrated around her with pent up anger. "You want to know what I think, Detective?" she asked through clenched teeth. "I think you need to get back in your POS and drive away before my fiancé shows up."

I'm sure it was the word fiancé that got his hackles going in full force. Within seconds, he was gesturing wildly and was up in her face yelling at her.

I know this argument is none of my business. It has nothing to do with me, but some of the things he's saying to her is pissing me off. For someone who is supposed to be in law enforcement and has vowed to protect people, he's doing a piss poor job of it.

I'm not sure at what point I decided to get involved, but the next thing I knew I'd managed to push myself up onto one foot, then took a delicate step forward, placing myself next to Stephanie. "Excuse me," I shouted and put my hand up between their faces, garnering both their attention and silencing the fight. "That's better," I said now in a normal tone before I turned my attention fully on the detective.

"Detective?" I half said half asked.

"Morelli," he said. "Who are you?" he asked with a bit of a snit in his tone. I swear if he wasn't an officer of the law, I would have belted him in the mouth just on general principal.

"I'm the woman who not only witnessed the accident but kept Stephanie from being seriously injured. Now, if you want to keep your mouth shut long enough to listen, I'll tell you exactly what happened."

He shook his head. "I know what happened. It's what always happens with her. She attracts all the kooks and the crazies because of her fucking job."

"Well, I can't claim to know anything about her job, but I can tell you unequivocally, that the accident was not in any way her fault." I angled my hands on my hips and shot him my best no nonsense Mid-western glare. "Now if you want to stop acting like a jilted boyfriend and start acting like an officer of the law and actually do your job, we can get this-"

The rest of my sentence died in my throat as three gleaming black SUV's pulled up, their doors opened and the most gorgeous and dangerous looking men I think I've ever seen in my life, poured out. Hell, it was as if somehow the men in some of my stories had been conjured into life. I didn't know men like that could exist in the real world. I'm pretty sure I only managed to murmur a stunned Wow as they rushed toward the scene.

The detective turned to see what had caught my attention and the scowl on his face immediately grew as he muttered under his breath. "Fucking Manoso."

I wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but by the looks of the men, there was no love lost between them. One of the men, who I'd estimated was about six feet tall, with long silky black hair, and skin color that reminded me of my favorite latte, rushed forward to Stephanie. She went willingly into his embrace as he uttered what sounded like the word Babe, in a tone that spoke volumes of his fear and love for her.

"Hey, Batman," she said as she wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, obviously enjoying his protective embrace.

For a split-second, envy and sadness jetted through me as I watched them. Sadly, I had no one to worry about me.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her curly head of hair, then turned his attention toward the detective.

"Morelli."

"Manoso," the detective replied.

"What are you doing here, detective?" he asked, his accent on the word detective was said with what I would refer to as contempt.

Before he could answer, Stephanie pulled away from the man and began to explain everything to him. His face never changed expression, except for a hint of fear then shock around his eyes. After she stopped talking, he turned his attention on me. "Sienna, is it?"

I nodded.

"You saved my Stephanie's life."

The detective snorted. "She's not your Stephanie."

One of the other men, this one looked similar to the man the detective called Manoso, except he had short, spikey blond hair, spoke. "For a detective, you're piss poor at finding clues." He motioned to Stephanie. "See that ring on her finger. That makes her, Ranger's. Besides, you are a homicide detective, Morelli. This was obviously an accident, so why are you still here?"

Apparently, choosing to ignore the comment about her ring, the detective motioned to the car that had hit Stephanie's. It had since been covered in a blue tarp by the fire department to hide the driver inside, who failed to escape the accident and subsequent fire. A shudder rippled through me at the realization I'd been witness to someone's death.

"How do you know the driver in that car wasn't murdered?" Morelli asked.

"Because he wasn't," came the voice of yet another man who walked up from the opposite direction. This one had sandy blond hair and was sporting a badge on his chest. He stopped next to Stephanie and nodded to the man still holding her. "Ranger." Then he turned his attention to Stephanie. "Steph, you okay?"

She nodded.

Then he shifted his attention to me. "Detective Gazarra," he said reaching out to shake my hand.

"Sienna Stapleton," I replied.

"Are you hurt Ms. Stapleton. Do you need an ambulance?"

Since I didn't have a steady job yet and therefore was currently without health insurance, a trip to the emergency room would create a huge bill. "No." I replied. "I'm not hurt bad enough for an ambulance but thank you."

"Good enough," he said, then turned to Detective Morelli. "The driver of the other car was Walley Lawrence. Known meth user and repeat offender. He has a rap sheet a mile long, involving multiple petty thefts and stolen cars. His mother called the police station a little while ago to report that they'd had a fight and he stormed out, got in his car, and drove away like a maniac. She was pretty sure he was high again."

"That would explain the erratic way he was driving before he jumped the curb and hit Stephanie's car," I said.

He nodded then turned his attention back to Detective Morelli. "We're pulling videos from various sources, up and down the street, to verify. As you can see, there is no murder here, which means no case for you. So, unless you're here just to harass Stephanie, I would say it's time for you to head out."

For a moment it appeared as if the detective wasn't going to leave, then finally, he turned in a huff and stormed away.

"Well, that was fun," Stephanie murmured as she looked up at the man the detective called Manoso.

"Babe."

This story is completely written and will be a total of 10 chapters...because I totally suck at writing shorts...lol. I'll be posting the chapters over the course of the next few days. And I just want to say thank you in advance to anyone who chooses to follow along.