A/n: A little mirth….I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing. We're approximately two weeks past the last chapter – chapter 28 was two months after deployment, we're now 78 days out. And again, Proudofyoubabe cleaned up my messes - thank you so, so much
"Punky! Get your big greasy butt down here now and I won't zap you out of the chance to father any children!" Stephanie yelled from the sidewalk, fists on her hips and a look of fierce determination on her face.
Giana stood slightly behind her, armed with pepper spray and a taser of her own and questioning the wisdom of her plan.
She'd had a hard time of it since Lester left. The past 78 days had gone by at a snail's pace and she was acutely aware of the Lester-shaped hole in her life, every minute of every day. She was able to power on, however, because she knew that Les would be wrecked to come home and find out she'd allowed herself to wallow in her misery.
And so she set goals for herself, quietly enlisted her friends and family to keep her busy, and was muddling through as best she could. Stephanie, however, was having a rougher time of it. At that first confrontation in the apartment on seven, they'd spent the evening and early morning hours talking each other off the proverbial ledge. Stephanie was doing her best to hold up her end of their bargain, but it was plain she was struggling. That was how Gia'd found herself in Bobby's office, brainstorming ways to fire their friend up.
"Skips." Was Bobby's concise answer when Giana has questioned him. "Bomber was always really good at hauling in skips; she was passionate about it, really got into the research aspect of it…she just wasn't very, uh, graceful about it. But you're right, we need something to put a smile on her face. Let's call Connie and see who she's got."
That was how Giana McGovern, bonnie Irish lass that she was, found herself standing transfixed in horrified fascination as the 300-pound Punky pressed his large, shiny rump against the window and peered over his shoulder to gauge their reaction.
Lula, having heard that Steph was after a skip, had jumped at the chance to see the legendary Bombshell Bounty Hunter in action again. She stood nearer the car than the other two women, shaking her head disdainfully.
"That there should be a crime. Never mind the car he took on a little joyride or the case of Slim Jims he stole from that bodega, that pudgy white behind ought to get him at least a few months in the joint. At least he's not showing his wanger this time." Lula opined from her perch, just as Punky whirled around and started waving Little Punky at the women.
"That little worm! I'm gonna shoot him right in his blubber butt, just as soon as I can find my gun." She rummaged through the contents of her purse, muttering curse words and stomping her feet.
"No! No shooting the skips! We're just going to have to get creative, is all." Stephanie blew a frustrated sigh out, causing her hair to billow away from her face. She scrunched her brow and tapped her foot, gnawing on her lip while considering their options.
Gia spoke up. "Um, couldn't we just call the police? Don't they have a little more…I don't know, authority than us? Maybe he'd listen to them."
"No can do. The police department is overworked as it is; that's why it's up to the BEA to bring in the odd errant criminal." Stephanie spared a glance for her friend and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I've done this lots of times and I always get my man."
Quickly, the women hatched a plan. Punky, in all his naked glory, attempted to crack the window to listen in on their huddle; unfortunately, he was unable to get a good enough grip on the window to push it up. He was, however, able to see the nondescript black SUV slide into a parking space half a block away; he could also make out several sets of binoculars peering through the windshield of the vehicle. Anxious as ever to give people a show, Punky resumed his wanger-waving with renewed vigor, making sure to bang on his own window to nab the attention of the trio on the sidewalk.
Below him, the women broke apart. "Got it?" Stephanie asked. Lula nodded firmly, Giana less so, and they headed to their respective positions to wait for the signal.
Stephanie took her place at the front door and banged three times with her fist. "Punky Balog, you're in violation of your bond! I need to you come with me so we can get you rescheduled!" she called, knowing already it was useless at this point. Still, formalities were important in this type of situation, and Stephanie Plum-Manoso was her mother's daughter; the niceties must be observed.
With a grunt, she raised her boot and kicked his door in. It swung open to reveal a living room packed with empty Cheez-doodle bags and Slim Jim wrappers, and two empty family-sized tubs of Vaseline sitting squarely in the center of the coffee table.
"Geez, he doubled up this time." She murmured to herself, stepping carefully through the room and headed toward the steps.
"Punky! Get your ass down here and make it easy on me today, huh? I'm not in the mood for this crap right now!" She called up the stairs.
Punky appeared at the top of the steps and grinned down at her, his fat doughy body glistening in the light.
"Why don't you come up here and maaaaake meeeee!" he sang as he wibbled and wobbled in a small circle on the landing, taking care to flash his great wide keester at her.
Teeth gritted in determination, she called over her shoulder, "I'm going upstairs!" before starting up the steps.
She'd only made it to the third step before something hit her square in the chest. Looking down, she saw a gelatinous orange ball with what appeared to be twigs sticking out of it, about the size of a kiwi sticking to her shirt.
"What the…?" she trailed off, looking up just in time to see another ball hurtling toward her.
Whump. This one hit her on the shoulder, caking itself into the ends of her brown curls.
"What the hell?! Punky, you turd, what the hell is this shit?" Stephanie shrieked, jumping back to the floor below the stairs.
Punky only cackled in response and pulled his arm back, preparing to lob another ball at her. Stephanie beat a hasty retreat toward the front door, Punky's taunting following her across his living room.
Once safely out of range, Stephanie examined the projectiles she'd been hit with. It looked like…a glob of Vaseline with Cheez-doodles and pieces of Slim Jim mashed up in it?
"Mother of God." Stephanie grumbled, using Punky's living room curtain to wipe the lumps off herself. She whipped out her phone and shot a text to Lula and Giana – Time for Plan B.
She gave the girls five minutes to get into place while yelling intermittently at Punky to keep his focus on her. As Stephanie readied herself to head up the stairs again, inspiration struck her. She found Punky's coat closet and rummaged through it for a moment before – jackpot! She carried the umbrella she'd liberated from the closet to the bottom of the steps and yelled, louder than necessary, "I'm coming up, Punky!" before charging the steps while pressing the button to open the umbrella.
She felt two whumps in quick succession before Punky yelled, "Hey, no fair, that's cheating!" After the tenth step, Stephanie figured she was at least halfway up and paused, hoping to keep Punky's attention and allow Plan B to flow into action. By now, Lula should've had plenty of time to grab the ladder from Punky's open garage and make her way in through the second story window, and she should be sneaking up behind Punky any second now.
Another whump on the umbrella was quickly followed by a shriek, then a thundering sound as Punky barreled down the steps, straight toward Stephanie.
"Get your slippery white ass back here before I put a bullet in it!" Lula bellowed from the top of the steps before she, too, took off down them.
Stephanie only had time to think, Oh, crap, before she was steamrolled by a slimy Punky and, seconds later, an enraged Lula. They landed at the bottom of the steps in a tangle of limbs before Punky slithered free and took off for the door.
Stephanie was plastered to the floor, the remainder of Punky's gooey missiles gluing her to the carpet, and Lula lay in a dazed heap next to her. She yelled, "Giana, he's coming!" while trying to peel herself from Punky's stained flooring.
She came apart from the floor with a sickening squelch and crossed the front threshold just in time to see a bare-assed and glistening Punky charge Giana. Gia stood in open-mouthed horror at the naked man, taser firmly in hand. Stephanie took off after him, straining to catch him before he ran Gia over.
It was then that Punky turned and rocketed his last Vaseline Cheez-doodle Slim Jim ball at her, catching her square in the forehead.
"Ack!" she yelped, wiping furiously so she could see where that pencil-dick exhibitionist asshole was. She was murderous now; didn't he know the perils of getting Vaseline in your hair?!
She cleared it away just in time to see Punky and Giana go down in a heap. Gia's shriek was followed immediately by the sound of thundering boots. Through bleary eyes, Stephanie strained to watch as four big black blobs pulled a pink blob off the ground.
One of the blobs headed her way and stopped several feet from her. "Bomber, I've got some saline here, I'm going to flush your eyes." Bobby's voice came from the blob, and Stephanie understood immediately – RangeMan had sent a covert along in case she needed backup. Normally, she'd be affronted, but she was too grateful for the assistance to care.
She let Bobby clear her eyes and stood on shaky legs before she hurried over to check on her friend.
Gia sat, covered in dirt and Vaseline, in a heap on the ground. A couple of yards away, Punky lay on his stomach, trussed up and gagged and awaiting transport. And a few feet away from Punky stood Tank, doubled over with his hands braced on his knees. He was laughing so hard, the only sound he was making was a strained hiss. Great, fat tears rolled down his face, and every time he tried to straighten his tall frame, he'd glance at Gia and Stephanie and lose it again.
Lula exited the house, a dazed look on her face and looked slowly around the yard. When her eyes landed on Punky's naked form, wiggling on the ground, she charged and managed to land only two good kicks before Bobby intervened; she offered only a wave (and to Punky, a finger) as she climbed into her car and sped away.
Stephanie sat down in a tired huff next to Gia and opened her mouth to apologize. Gia waved her off before she could begin. "Don't apologize; we got the guy you were after, and I got to see Tank laughing. I didn't even know he talked, and he's over there cracking up. That alone was totally worth the price of admission."
Stephanie snorted and rolled her eyes before letting her hand drift to the back of her neck. She rubbed it, frowning while glancing up and down the now crowded street.
"Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?" asked a concerned Giana.
"No, no, I'm alright. I just…" and here she trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.
"What's up?" Gia asked quietly. She'd gathered that Stephanie was a private person. She also knew from Hector that Stephanie was not only an astute observer and had a nose for brewing trouble, but that she'd had a feeling lately that something was going down.
"Not sure," Steph murmured back, shrugging one shoulder. "Something's up, I'm just not sure what it is. I can't even decide if it's a good something or a bad something."
Waving a hand dismissively, she thanked Gia for her help. The two high-fived and tried not to grimace when their hands stuck together.
Back at home, Giana finally stepped out of the shower. It had taken a phone call to Charlene ("Corn starch, baby, that'll dry it up." she'd advised before demanding a call back with the entire story when Gia was clean), an hour in the shower and nearly half a bottle of expensive shampoo, but she was officially Vaseline free.
After she dried her hair, she slid a small glass dish with chicken and wild rice stew into the oven to warm and went to her bedroom for her nightly ritual.
She lit the two candles that flanked the small statue of Saint Adrian her mother had mailed her after Lester left. She wrapped her rosary beads around her hand twice before kneeling and bowing her head. She crossed herself before closing her eyes and began murmuring her plea for a safe return for Ranger, and especially for Les.
An ocean away, a good man huddled beside his partner. Their job, their duty and their obligation had called them and they had answered. Sat in a dark and dank cave the past twelve days, the two soldiers worked tirelessly to right a wrong and free an enslaved nation; before this, they'd been relegated to a dusty tent in the scorching desert. They could not, between the two of them, decide which was worse.
Now, at the eleventh hour of their mission, the end was in sight. The good man and his good partner had they intel they'd been sent to obtain, and all that was left was to wait for the Beta team to act on it and ensure the job was done.
The good man retreated to his cot; it was his shift to sleep, and he knew he needed rest in order to be alert later. He closed his eyes and dreamed of a love that transcended space and time, and of the woman who held his heart.
He was ready to go home.
*Saint Adrian, the Saint Gia was praying to, is the patron saint of soldiers in Catholic dogma. I won't have another chapter for approximately a week; 30 is going to be long and I've got commitments this weekend. It'd be righteous to log in Sunday and see lots of reviews...just sayin'