A/N: Am I the worst or what? Honestly, not sure how happy I am with this ending, but I didn't want to drag it out any longer. I wanted this first half of this chapter to just show the danger/unconventionality of the job. The second half to wrap up the solid foundation they have. Please let me know what you think. Thank you for everyone who has followed through to the end. I hope I haven't disappointed you. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Please review! Until next time...

Tightrope by Michelle Williams

"Some people long for a life that is simple and planned
Tied with a ribbon
Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land
To follow what's written
But I'd follow you to the great unknown
Off to a world we call our own"

Defining Moments

Chapter 25: Home is with You

Steph's POV

1.5 Years Later

"Quinn," I whisper into the comms unit at my ear, "I'm not seeing anyone so far." My eyes sweep the grey cement warehouse in the dim lighting. I have my gun and flashlight drawn, making a pathway for me to see. My heart is pounding in my chest but my breathing is even. My flak vest rustles subtly, but it's better to wear it than not. My partner Quinn is entering from the other side of the building. We have been on this job for about a month and a half now. We're in upstate New York, far from real civilization. We've been following Vito Grizoli's second-hand man Tony Gilman.

Sound familiar? It should as he's the father of a certain Trenton cop's bed companion. This job isn't my favorite considering it will likely be a big downfall for the Biggest Ass of Trenton and his high school sweetheart the Mob Princess. Not that I care if Joe goes down anymore-he's done a fine job of that himself, but I know the Burg will likely blame me. Who am I kidding though? The Burg already blames me, not Joe's piss poor personality and own choices. They just see a woman in a man's job with a husband but no children. How ghastly! I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

We're after the Grizoli's and Gilman's now because a lead came in that they're newly supplying guns and drugs to all gangs in the Tristate area. It's causing a lot of havoc. The drugs also seem to be bad as the number of overdoses have climbed.

A rustle of movement catches my attention, and I turn too slow. Pain spreads through my head and down my spine. I fall to the floor like a sack of flour. My gun and flashlight clatter away. I try stretching to reach it but I'm seeing double and keep grasping for the wrong one. Feet come near me and I'm too clumsy with the head injury to move farther away when another blow comes.

I groan. My head is throbbing something fierce. I want to open my eyes but the sheer force of will that takes makes it near impossible. I open them a crack and a slice of light makes me reel backwards and shut them again. A tinkling laughter makes its way to my ears and it's like a bucket of ice water, chills running down my spine. I take a deep breath as I try to take in as much of my surroundings as I can without sight.

It smells damp, and it's dark. I have a suspicion whoever is in here with me used a flashlight pointed at my face. My captor, if only one is female. My hands and feet are bound. The floor is concrete. I rub my wedding rings with my thumb. I notice it's something I do when I feel stressed. I also notice my flak vest is missing. I choke down the lump in my throat. I'm kicked, not so gently, in the ribs. My breath is forced out of my chest. The pain is blinding.

"I know you're awake, bitch," the callous voice says as I roll and clutch my side. The voice is familiar but the throbbing in my head and the piercing pain in my side stops me from being able to place her. I'm hoping either my partner or my husband knows I'm missing at this point. I don't even know how long I've been out. I force a breath in through my clenched teeth before opening my eyes again. I have to blink a few times to ensure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me.

"Surprised, Cupcake?" she sneers, venom dripping from her words. Her blond hair is pulled back in a short ponytail. I never expected Terry would have been stupid enough to do this. I know we're going after her father and family, but she's going to get extra time for assaulting and kidnapping a Federal Agent.

"Terry," I rasp out, the air rattling my ribs and causing me to hiss. I'm pretty sure one of my ribs cracked. She's glaring at me with her hazel eyes. She looks crazed, and I wonder when she finally snapped.

"You ruined my Joey, stole him from me and then discarded him," she begins as she waves a handgun up and down. My eyes are drawn to the track marks at the crook of her elbow. She has several sites where she must have been injecting herself with drugs. I remain silent as the anger flashes in her eyes. I don't need another kick or worse.

"Now, you have the gall to go after my family," she seethes, pacing back and forth, "you're trying to take everything from me." I try to adjust slightly and pain shoots through my side. I jerk from the pain which causes the throbbing in my head to increase. I think I may have a tracker or button in my earring. I shift my eyes around the room trying to figure out where I am. Terry has clearly fallen far. I notice now she's thinner and has dark purple circles under her eyes while both arms contain needle sticks. It's no wonder she thought this would be a good idea.

We seem to be underground. The only light is coming from a single Coleman lantern she has sitting on a plastic chair ten feet from where I sit.

"You're impressive Terry," I say, hoping my flattering tactic works. She looks nonplussed, so I go on.

"You've been keeping your family business afloat, helping Joe, and you managed to knock me out and bring me back...here," I say moving my eyes around in a sweeping motion since my hands are unavailable. "Where is here exactly?" She smirks.

"Remote woods. New York's version of the Pine Barrens," she says before laughing, "and the last place you'll ever see alive."

"How does it feel to know that no one will know what happened to you? Stephanie Plum disappeared never to be found again?" she giggles and the hair on my arm raises again. Wow, the drugs have really changed her. She used to be an attractive, vibrant, and mostly smart woman. Now she's strung out, crazed and a boney lunatic. I really need to be careful as she's likely unstable. The New York Pine Barrens. Another involuntary shudder goes through me at the thought. This means it's likely been 12 hours at least since I was last seen. How was she able to get me all the way out here? I shift on my tailbone and wince again at the pain. Terry's eyes narrow and she tracks me like a hawk. I work the rope down. She didn't do a great job… color me shocked. Hmm, I think I can feel the small knife I keep in my sock. Terry really didn't do as thorough of a job as she thought. I see her twitch before pulling a phone out of her pocket. She glances over at me before moving closer to the chair and pacing. She types something out on the phone and quickly shoves it back into her pocket. She looks on edge and paces again. I have a feeling she might be itching for another fix. I shift slightly but have to pause to breathe and stop the spinning in my head. I'm really struggling. I am pretty sure I have a concussion and a bad one at that if the nausea is any indication. I'm also fighting the urge to shut my eyes and go to sleep, but I can't. If I let go who knows what Terry might have planned for me.

I get a good distraction when her cell phone rings. She gives me one glance and turns her back to me. I quickly bend against the pain, careful not to make any noise, and work the knife out of my sock. I'm biting my lip to keep from crying out. My head is throbbing and my vision is blurring. Tears come to my eyes from the effort and pain. I can feel my fingers gripping the edges of the knife, and I hear Terry faintly over the beating of my own heart. She's still occupied which gives me enough time to get the knife the rest of the way in my hand. Once I have it fully grasped, I finally let in a breath of air which causes me to groan. I can immediately see Terry focusing on me, but I can't make myself care. I lay back even though it's awkward on my hands. Everything hurts. I can barely think. I hope Quinn is okay. I close my eyes and breathe shallowly. I'm simultaneously trying to ensure I don't hurt my ribs or my head. I hear Terry walk over, but I can't make my eyes cooperate. I flinch as she stops near me. She laughs and I think I'm okay, but she kicks me in the ribs again. I scream out in pain. I almost drop the knife as the white hot pain sears through the right side of my body. I take a halting breath and open my eyes. Terry is grinning.

"Not so tough or smart now, are you?" she questions before the phone calls her attention again, "Hurry up, goddammit!" She's back to pacing at the other side of the room. The pain is radiating from my chest. Now it's really difficult to breathe. Who knew tweakers had that much strength? I count slowly to calm myself. One...two...three...four. The air comes hissing through my clenched teeth. I think she may have actually broken a rib with the last kick. Terry shouts and she's suddenly exiting from a door I didn't see before. It's on the far side of the room behind the lantern. I have to move quickly. I moan in pain as I open the knife and quickly work it on the rope on my hands. I hiss as I accidentally cut my hand. I continue on and wince in pain once I finally have them free. I waste no time except for a few more deep breaths as I work on my ankles.

I have no idea who she was talking to on the phone or who might be joining us. I send a little prayer hoping for Quinn's assistance or even Ranger's. I could really use them right now. I finally have the rope on my ankles done. The door creaks and I quickly lay back. The rope is still over my feet as though tied. I clutch the knife tightly in my hand and against my back. I watch as Terry comes in alone. Her eyes are lit up and she's carrying a bag in her hand. She waves the gun and points it at me.

"You make any moves and I'll blow your head off," she states, "we're going for a little ride." She waves the paper bag in her other hand. My mind is racing. I can barely keep my head up. It feels like a thousand pounds. I watch, almost disconnected from my body, as she moves the lantern, sits down, and carefully puts the gun in between her knees, barrel towards me. I watch as she unloads her paper bag: a vial, lighter, spoon, and a syringe. She looks up at me with a smile.

"Sooo, wanna tell me how much you know about my dad's operation?" she questions, working with her drug tools. "It's not nice to go after your neighbors." She pretends to pout as she pours the powder into the spoon.

My stomach rolls at the thought of watching her do this. I feel so close to vomiting and black dots float in my vision. I suck in a breath through my nose and let it out of my mouth. I close my eyes as I try to push back the nausea. Once I have it under control, I see she's already working on lighting up the underside of the spoon. My best chance at getting her is when she is injecting herself.

"My daddy's worried you'll take everything from us," she continues on, oblivious to me, "I told him you have no idea about the beach house yet."

I slowly sit up. She doesn't even notice as she's concentrating. I bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain and taste blood-at least it's better than drawing her attention to me. I'm in a squat and I gently brush my fingers against my tender right side. My heart is beating quickly. My fingers feel stiff as they're curled around my blade. She's about to inject herself and as the needle touches her skin, I push myself up. I rush her as fast as I can. Unfortunately, even distracted she moves fast. She quickly finishes shooting herself up and the gun clatters to the ground. I manage to dive and slash her in the thigh. I scream as I make contact with the pavement.

My left hand grasps for the gun. I make contact, but scream out like a wounded banshee as she stabs me with her needle. I feel remnants of her drugs being pushed into my arm. Thankfully, my training is ingrained in me, and I'm able to grab her arms and leverage her over to the pavement. She's dealing with an intravenous high while she just got me sub-q. She's unsteady due to the rush she's probably feeling. Her entire eyes are black from her pupils dilating. I won't be able to last much longer. I grab the plastic chair and smash her over the back with it. She barely makes any noise as she kisses the pavement. I quickly bend down and try to find keys or her phone from her pocket. She groans but doesn't move. I shout as I find the keys, and happier still when I make contact with her phone. I shove the keys into my pocket, move back, scoop up the gun, and run as fast as I can towards the door. My run is more like a sad walk, but it's the best I can do. I don't glance back. I look around wildly, only able to see trees all around. It looks like we were in a shipping container. I'm barely conscious. The adrenaline is keeping me going. I feel my arm stinging and look at my left inner elbow to see the syringe sticking out of me still. As I wrap my fingers around it, I can't stop my stomach from heaving and yellow water splatters on the dirt. The syringe falls to the ground and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I make my way carefully to the other side of the container.

We seem to be in a very secluded area. She wasn't kidding about disappearing. I'm in so much pain I can't see straight, but something gleams in the distance. I start feeling a light bubble in my chest, my mood brightening. I go towards the gleam in the woods. It's the car! Hallelujah. I get inside and lock the doors. I look around to make sure no one followed. I put the gun on the seat and keep the phone in my other hand. I start the engine and almost cry as it works perfectly. I carefully maneuver it out. I see Terry has come out of the container and is waving her arms madly at me. I ignored her and hit some speed in the little blue car. I find the lone dirt road and try to put as much space between us as possible. My fingers tremble as I hit a number I long ago memorized.

"Agent Rivers," Quinn's strong and steady voice barks into the phone. It's probably because he doesn't know who's calling.

"Quinn," I say, tears running down my cheeks. My heart is racing, my mouth is dry and I can feel droplets of sweat beading on my forehead. I hear him release a loud exhale.

"Oh thank God Sweetheart," he says and his voice sounds painful. My vision is blurring and I cry out as the car swerves. The bumping hurts my ribs and head.

"New York Pine Barrens," I make out, "hurry." I'm slamming on the breaks to no avail as the tree trunk gets closer and closer.

I scream as the impact hits. The airbag deploys and everything fades to black.

The beeping of the monitors is the first thing to orient me back to reality. The second is the tingling and hum going through my body. The third is the pain. I slowly open my eyes and squint in the bright light. Carlos is sitting beside me, his hand grasping mine. His eyes are tight with worry but he smiles as he sees me awake.

"Babe," he whispers before pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. I notice they have an IV going on the other side. I want to say something important but the only thing that comes out is "pain." My voice is raspy from the dryness. Carlos quickly stands, presses the call light and sticks his head out in the hall. The nurse arrives quickly, and Quinn also steps into the room. He throws me a smile but it's a little forced.

"It's good to see you awake, Agent Plum," one of the nurses says with a smile, "everyone's been worried." I manage a nod even though my head still aches. She adjusts something on the IV pump.

"I'm just administering your pain medicine," she says in a warm voice, "the doctor will be coming to check on you now that you're awake."

"Do you know what year it is?" she questions, grabbing an iPad to document.

"2019," I croak out. I rub my throat and water is offered. I take a few sips.

"What is your full name? Who is the current president?" I answer the rest of her questions easily. My eyes cut to Quinn.

"Did you find Terry Gilman?" I question hoping we will at least get to nail her junkie ass in the courtroom. His lips press into a thin line.

"We found her," he says sighing and I know there's more, "she was found a few meters down the road, dead." My eyes widen. She was definitely alive when I got out of there.

"Drug overdose?" I ask and then panic, "she injected me with some! Does the doctor know? What if something interacts and kills me?" I hear the monitor beep as my heart rate climbs to unhealthy limits.

"Agent Plum, you need to calm down. It's not good for you," the nurse says in a soothing voice, "don't worry. The doctor will explain everything." Carlos rubs his thumb over my knuckles. I take a deep breath and wince as I'm reminded of my ribs. I look up at Quinn.

"We need to look at Tony's beach house," I state with a clarity I didn't know I had, "that will get us everything we need to close this case." As I say it, I can feel my spidey sense tingle in agreement. Thank God, Terry was stupid enough to let things slip. I'm surprised I can remember it with all the shit I went through. Maybe this horrid experience was useful after all. Quinn nods and steps into the hallway.

"Babe," Carlos says, his warm brown eyes brimming with emotion. I shoot him a small smile. There is no one else I'd rather have at my side through this craziness. I tighten my grip on his hand.

"How are you doing, Batman?" I say in a croaky whisper. He shuts his eyes and I can see the stress from worrying over me.

"Better now that you opened your blue eyes," he breathes before leaning forward and nuzzling my neck with his nose, "you had me worried." I try to keep things light.

"You should know by now, I can take care of myself," I reply, "besides I knew you would have swooped in if I hadn't made a move in the next five minutes." Carlos lets out a humorless chuckle. I feel bad that I really worried him. We both have dangerous jobs so this is nothing new. He presses a kiss to my temple.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he says almost inaudibly. I'm unsure if he intended for me to hear that or not. My eyelids become heavy again, and I hold his hand as I drift back to unconsciousness.

xxxx

After my injuries, I was off from field duty for three months and off work for one month. Carlos, of course, was the ever attentive and loving husband. I stayed with him on seven at RangeMan and helped with some searches when I wasn't able to log hours at the Bureau. What can I say? I've never been good at sitting still. Having Ella's wonderful food helped, of course. Carlos and I complement each other well and have a true partnership. Of course, having had a disastrous first marriage I was only a little worried about tying the knot a second time. Knowing Carlos, my fears were unfounded. I guess what having crazy jobs has taught us is that we were never going to be simple, 9-5 people. We found a home in each other and support no matter what. I'm so lucky.

Now, we've found a comfortable rhythm. Quinn and I still investigate organized crime, and we make a damn good team. Carlos runs RangeMan and still does field work. We both probably have three more good years where we can still safely do field work. FBI cutoff is at 37 and then it's desk job. Carlos and I have discussed, and I may become a part owner of RangeMan after my time in the FBI. Carlos has even extended the employment offer to Quinn.

It's funny to me that three years ago, I never would have imagined my life as it is now. I thought I was destined to eventually bow to the Burg style and marry Morelli. Thank god that didn't come to fruition. I'm a successful woman in a loving and respectful relationship with the love of my life.

I'm happy to report that Quinn has finally made his mom happy and settled down with a Swedish woman whose family lives in Pennsylvania. They met last winter at a ski resort. Rachel is a wonderful woman who challenges Quinn. They're expecting their first child next March. Carlos and I are content by ourselves and don't feel the need for children. I was never keen on the idea and I'm lucky to have a supportive husband. My mom and dad have their hands full with Val's kids. She ended up getting pregnant one more time after baby Lisa, and had twins. I don't envy her!

Carlos and I will be taking a month off starting in September to celebrate our third wedding anniversary in Italy. We'll also be visiting Greece while we are there. I'm beyond excited for this experience with him. He truly floored me with our honeymoon years ago where he took me to his motherland of Cuba. We stayed at an all-inclusive resort with a view of the ocean. He also toured me around Havana, and we stopped in to see his great aunt and uncle who never migrated to the United States.

We don't live an ordinary life, nor one that's simple. We've had our challenges and triumphs. I guess I'm just lucky I ended up with the man I did.

"Something burning, Babe?" Carlos questions from across the table. I guess I've been in my thoughts too long. I smile at my gorgeous husband. We're at his grandparent's Cuban restaurant in Newark to celebrate his birthday.

"Just thinking about our life," I say, feeling the emotion bubble up in my chest." He grabs my hand and rubs his thumb over mine.

"It's been a wild ride," he replies, giving me a 100-watt grin. I feel my panties dampen. Woo, what this man can do to me!

"I can't wait to see what the next few years have in store," I say, content.

"As long as I'm with you," he responds before leaning forward and giving me a kiss. We pull back and he's looking at me with hooded eyes.

"Can we leave now so I can enjoy my favorite dessert at home?" he asks with his wolf grin.

"Anything for the birthday boy," I reply. We stand and he can't get us out of there fast enough.

We arrive to RangeMan and hurry up to seven. Carlos' hands are on me as soon as we arrive. We're frenzied like new lovers. I just want to feel his skin on mine. We growls and scoops me up in one fluid movement. We're in bed, skin on skin, hard and fast. No doubt Carlos will want soft and slow for our second coupling. I'm not complaining. After we finish, we're cuddled up content and spent. My head is in the crook of his shoulder.

"Perfect end to the perfect birthday, Babe," Carlos says, his voice still husky. He presses a kiss to my forehead as we drift off to sleep in each others arms.

The End