Author's Note: Although this story is beginning with events taken from Book 1/OftM 2012, it's going to veer off into completely original territory soon. Well, not completely original. There might be some staple ideas taken from my previous BABE fics. I'm not sure yet. I'm very grateful and happy that you guys are digging the story and Steph. The lion's share of this one will be in her POV but we'll make more visits into Ranger's head. It'll be fun. My goal is to make a dark but fun story. Hopefully, it'll work out well.
And to address a tactfully raised and relevant concern, I know that Steph's more than a little jaded when it comes to men but in this fic, when it comes to intimate relationships, she's gone 0 for 2 and it only takes one bad experience to mess someone up. Ranger will not be a 3rd bad experience. In fact, he'll live up to the old adage: the third time's the charm but it'll be a while before Steph sees that and trusts it and him fully. Not too long, though.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
"Yo."
"Yo, my black ass. Do you know what you're doing?"
"I'm working with her. I've worked with women before."
"Don't bullshit me, Ranger. You've been interested in Plum since Santos showed everyone the video of her dealing with that Molotov. You turned down Morelli's bond so Vinnie would give it to her and you'd have an excuse to ask Connie to set up a meeting with her."
"That sounds very convoluted."
"That sounds like some shit you just pulled. It's not like you could've just shown up at the Bond's office and asked her out like a normal human being. Oh, wait…you could've."
"Tank…"
"Don't get it twisted. I'm happy as hell that you're interested in her. She's a damned good Bounty Hunter and she's a knockout but she's been hurt, Carlos. She doesn't need you toying with her."
"Not hurt, fucked over. Morelli, Orr, even her own family members, people who are supposed to love her and accept her have fucked her over. I'm not toying with her. I just…"
"Just?"
"I like her, Pierre. She wasn't afraid of me. She looked me dead in the eye and spoke to me like we were equals. She's attracted to me but she didn't start simpering. She didn't bullshit me. She was…I like her. I want to know her."
"You've got it bad, man. Cupid finally busted a love cap in your ass!"
"Fuck."
"Hey, it happens to the best of us and it could be worse. It could've been Burrows."
"She told me to text her when I was on the way."
"No, fuck that. Call her and when you get there, open the door for her. Get her some breakfast."
"Why?"
"Because that's what you do when you like a girl! Jesus, you're an amateur."
"I have a kid, Tank."
"Jules is awesome but the circumstances of her coming to be weren't from a relationship with a woman you liked. They came from an extended one night stand with someone you had nothing in common with after the clothes were put back on and a birth control recall. You actually like Plum and since she's been fucked over before, she's automatically gonna assume that you'll do it, too. She's gonna have self esteem issues out the ass and you have to show her that you're legit. You have to treat her like she's an equal and like she's special. Women like to feel special."
"No more Dr. Phil and Steve Harvey for you."
"Oh, you got jokes… work with her today. Use all your words and try to have fun. You remember what that is, don't you?"
"Of course I do. You'll be joining me for some fun on the Mats tomorrow morning."
"Fair warning, we're going to get stared at like we're zoo animals. Everyone knows me as the Plum family fuck up that drained her filthy rich ex husband dry and there are at least 8 rumors about you going around at any given time. The favorites are that you're a government assassin waiting for your next assignment or you're the biggest drug lord/pimp in the region since Nicky Barnes. The best way to deal with it is to ignore them and say as little as possible to anyone. Anything you say and do in the Burg can and will be twisted to be used against you later."
"Why are we here then?"
"Pino's is the gossip epicenter of the Burg, other than the Clip n Curl. If we're going to get any word on what hidey hole Morelli's crawled into, even if it's just a guesstimate, it'll be from here. That and there's a 2 for 1 lunch special on their meatball subs. Fish gotta swim, rabbits gotta hump, and a girl's gotta eat."
I chuckled at that and followed Stephanie into the family style Italian restaurant. True to her warning, as soon as we walked in together, conversations began to taper off, pick up, and gazes went to us. Some gazes were wide and frozen like a deer in the headlights. Some were quick and a healthy amount of fear was in all of them. Whether they were intimidated by me or Stephanie is a toss-up. She's unabashedly herself and a local legend, thanks to Orr and her line of work.
As she said, I don't really frequent the local businesses in Trenton or leave Haywood. If I'm out, I'm dealing with a security breach or chasing down a Skip. Occasionally, I'll go to the gun range and Stark Street to get Intel but mainly, I keep to myself. Fear is based on unknowns so the idea that I'm a man of lawlessness isn't too far-fetched. It's actually pretty close to the truth.
I tend to dwell in various shades of gray leading to black when it comes to the law but every circumstance is different. I lost too many friends to drugs to even consider going into that line of work and the idea of forcing women to sell themselves to line my pockets makes me want to spit acid. As for the assassin idea…I don't kill unless I'm ordered to (and those orders need to be reasonable…) or if there is no other alternative. Usually, I'll find an alternative.
There are fates worse than death, after all.
After Stephanie collected her two large meatball subs, I followed her to a free booth and settled with my back to the wall and my eyes on the doors. She settled in and I watched with a train wreck fascination as she started to eat. Her table manners were impeccable but what she was eating…
"That stuff will kill you, Babe."
It smelled good but I could practically see her arteries clogging with all of the mozzarella.
Instead of replying verbally, she looked up and gave me a chipmunk cheeked smile before she slowly swallowed what was in her mouth with a deep moan of satisfaction.
Unbidden, an image of her doing the same action while in my bed wearing nothing but her boots from yesterday came to my mind and I took a deep drink of water. She finished half of her first sandwich and I had to tell my cock to calm the hell down as she suckled tomato sauce from her fingertips.
In the past, I would pursue aggressively and after getting what I wanted, what we both wanted, it would end one way or the other. Mainly, I've had friends with benefits/one night stands. For the sake of Julie, Rachel and I had tried to make an actual relationship work but as Tank said, we were too different. Plus, once I got into the Rangers, she quickly saw the benefits of not having to deal with a post mission me or eventually having to give the 'Papi's not coming home but he's looking down from heaven always' speech. After that ended, I went back to my original pattern of in and out (and never with Jeanne Ellen Burrows, despite what Santos keeps telling people) and I was fine with it. My life is too chaotic to maintain a real relationship so my staying a bachelor, staying a discreet speed dial 'bad boy' hook up was all right with me. There hadn't been a woman that could hold my attention to consider wanting more.
Until now, anyway.
My attraction to Stephanie Plum is different. I do want her body but there's something about her that just appeals to me. First impressions are everlasting and she impressed me. She didn't fall into a single category. I couldn't figure her out and maybe it's also the way she does her job, effective yet unorthodox. Maybe it's the way she moves, sexy without trying or maybe, it's the sadness in her big blue eyes, a bitter sadness that I'm all too familiar with.
She has been made to feel as if she is fundamentally flawed, that she's either too dangerous to bother with or that she needs to be saved by any means necessary, regardless of her opinion of the matter.
Once I got to adulthood, that type of treatment stopped but with Stephanie, it's still going on and the idea of people clipping her wings, bullying her, makes me feel more than a little homicidal.
This could be a problem.
The other half of her first sub was demolished and she refilled our water glasses with a smile on her face.
"I missed food like this while I was in New Mexico. You couldn't get a good marinara sauce anywhere but the chili was always divine. I put it on everything from eggs to ice cream."
"Red or Green?"
"Yes."
"Do you miss being out there?"
"More than a little bit but I'm glad to be close to my Grandma again and it's my sacred duty as their Aunt Stephanie to show my nieces that there's more than one way to skin a cat and more than one way to live a good life. You don't have to be the perfect housewife to be happy and sometimes, it's best to march to the beat of your own drum. If you're not careful, the Burg will set you up for failure. What happened to Val is a perfect example. She did everything right. She followed all of the traditional rules and regulations that Helen crowed about and what did it get her? What does she have? She has her girls and Kloughn now but other than that… I mean, if she were really happy, I wouldn't care but she's not. She's where I used to be before I left."
"Where is that?"
"She's living a life that is mediocre to the point of outright sucking but since she doesn't know any other way to live, she sticks with it because it's familiar and safe and socially acceptable."
"There's nothing wrong with safety, Babe."
"Yeah, but what's the point of staying safe if you cut yourself off from all the things that make life worth living? Taking risks and getting hurt sucks but there's nothing better than taking a risk and it turns out to be awesome."
Before I could reply to that, her phone went off and my brows went up as I recognized the theme for the Wicked Witch of the West.
"That was Helen. I'm surprised that she didn't call after you helped me bring Sammy in. Apparently, me being around a man is still considered blazing hot Tea and God forbid I add anymore shame to the family name. I'll deal with her later. I don't want her to ruin my appetite. Wasting a Pino's meatball sub's the 8th deadly sin, you know."
More like the 9th. The 8th deadly sin right now would be keeping her from enjoying her sub.
/
"Stephanie, this is your mother."
"I'm aware of that, Helen. It's why I ignored your earlier calls. What do you want?"
"Your sister told me that your cousin gave you Joseph's case."
"It's called a Bond, Helen and yes, I have it. What's your point?"
"He's innocent, Stephanie! You can't just throw an innocent man in prison!"
"I don't care whether he's innocent or not and I don't throw people in prison. I'm not a judge, a jury, or the Lord. I'm a Bounty Hunter and I'm going to do my job. Bringing Joe Morelli in is my job and no amount of harping, whining, and guilt you or the rest of the Burg tries to pile on me will stop me from doing it. End of that discussion. Now, let's get to what you really want. Someone saw me with Ranger and promptly called you asking about why I'm running around with someone so dangerous and someone so outside of the Burg and instead of telling them to go to hell, you decided that it's time to try and set me up with some acceptable loser you scraped off of the bottom of your saddle shoes so they'd shut up. Am I right or am I right?"
"Why do you always assume the worst of me?! You barely talk to me anymore and when you do, you treat me like I'm some lowlife on the streets! I am your mother whether you like it or not!"
"I don't like it. I don't like it at all and I assume the worst of you because that's what you've always given me. I have more respect for my Skips than you because they've earned it. Tell me something: if I'm such an embarrassment and a failure in your eyes, then why do you still call me? Why do you still ask after me? Why don't you just leave me alone and enjoy having the daughter that you actually love and wanted back under your thumb? Why don't you lose my number and pretend that you got rid of me like I know you would've if you weren't Catholic and if Dad would've let you? You wanted a boy or another perfect daughter. Since I'm not either option, I'm just a stupid piece of shit to you and a bitter disappointment to Dad. I get it. I didn't have any choice but to get it and I'm not going to change who I am, Helen, just like you're not going to so why don't you just accept the situation for what it is, already?"
There was a long beat of silence and I could hear the phone receiver get slammed down onto the hallway table. I could also hear the bang of the swinging kitchen door opening and I sighed heavily. See, this is why I don't like dealing with Helen. No matter what I say or do, she's the victim and she can't take even a fraction of what she dishes out. If someone actually calls her on her shit, it's like the end of the world and everyone's always picking on her, especially me…
"She had me on speaker, didn't she?"
"She did…Stepphie, I know that you and your mom don't get along. I've always known that but…is that how you really feel?"
"Can you blame me, Gram? I mean, really?"
"…no. Do you want me to talk to her, Baby Girl? She's diving into her not so secret bottle of Old Turkey now so I know she's not going anywhere any time soon…"
"Don't bother. She won't change. Look, Gram, I'm going to get you a cell phone…"
"I already have one. I'll text you the number. Do you want to talk to your father? He's in the Den."
"No, but tell him that I still love him and I'll probably come visit at the Cab Company soon."
"All right. Maybe we can get together this weekend. There's a spaghetti dinner and Bingo tournament at the VFW Hall and Ivan Nichols just passed away. It's gonna be an open casket…"
"I'll come get you. I gotta go. I love you, Gram."
"I love you too. Keep your head up."
Turning off my Bluetooth, I pushed the door to Flyer's open and pulled my rolling suitcase of equipment through. The breeze was cold but that felt good on my exercise heated body. I had spent most of my time here doing machine work and cardio on the treadmill. I hate both. I'd rather be up in the air but if I don't keep up with my conditioning, my performances will suffer. I'll either run out of breath or I won't be able to pull myself up at a critical moment. Both situations can lead to injury and that's the last thing I need right now.
Actually, it's the second to last.
The last thing I need is for whoever is lurking near Jorge to get the drop on me.
They were dressed in dark clothing and sticking to the shadows but my Spidey sense was tingling hard. It wouldn't be the first time a Skip or someone related to one tried to do something to my car or to me personally to get me out of the way. That was the source of my nickname, The Bombshell Bounty Hunter, but I am not in the mood. I spent the whole day with Ranger, which was nice, but very frustrating to my hormones, hormones that are very, very angry at me for neglecting them.
Whoever this person is has picked the wrong day, the wrong time, and the wrong woman to mess with. They were also very sloppy because they weren't paying attention to my movements until the barbs from my long range Taser gun slammed hard into their chest. The would be assailant lurched and landed on the concrete with a thud. I released the trigger and used my remote control starter to turn on Jorge's engine and headlights so I could see who it was…
Against my will, a crazed giggle escaped me and I zapped him again for good measure.
Joe fucking Morelli.
Of course, it's Joe fucking Morelli.