Author's Note:
There are three chapters to this story. All are complete and will be posted at once. If you don't see them right away, just be patient.
This fic was sparked in part by a meme and by a conversation with KathyJoK. As always, many thanks to her for the technical edit. It is both appreciated and necessary. : )
A Night To Remember
This time it really, truly wasn't Stephanie's fault. There was no firebomb, no rocket launcher, no flamethrower. It wasn't meant for her and it didn't start in her apartment, but in the one below.
The Kowalski's 63rd anniversary celebration was hotter than intended. They had met when Mrs. Kowalski was in Burlesque so the festivities began with one of her old fan dance routines. A particularly enthusiastic flourish brought one of the feathered fans too close to the candles meant for romantic ambience and lit it up. She tossed the flaming fan away and it landed on the carpet next to the recliner catching both of those on fire. By the time Mr. Kowalski was able to leverage himself up out of the couch and grab his walker, the rest of the apartment was going up.
In the end, the Kowalskis made it out safely as did all of the other residents. Their apartment was a total loss and Steph's was badly damaged by smoke, water, and flame and was missing part of the floor. Repairs to both units would take six to eight weeks. The Kowalski's relocated to their daughter's house in Newark and Stephanie ended up at Rangeman.
Even though she and Ranger were a couple now, and even though they often spent the night there together, she couldn't bring herself to stay in the penthouse apartment without him. Something about him being in the wind for the next couple of months made it seem like invading his privacy since he wouldn't be around to catch her if she decided to snoop. Yes, that was a weird way of looking at it, but she couldn't help it.
Luckily, a studio apartment on the fourth floor was open. She'd been there almost two weeks and was surprised at how much she was enjoying it. The guys gave her plenty of space and respected her boundaries, immediately alleviating her two biggest worries. It was also comforting to have them close by for company, or a chat, or whatever.
Take tonight, for instance. It was a little past 10:00 p.m. She'd already had two beers and put on a t-shirt pilfered from Ranger with a pair of Batman sleep shorts but she wasn't winding down. She'd been feeling restless for the past couple of days. Working part time here could be a little boring, but usually rounding up skips for Vinnie gave her the action she needed. The past week had been slow at Vinnie's, though, and with no outlet for her pent up energy, she was getting kind of fidgety. She felt antsy and needed to move. The studio apartment was only slightly smaller than her one bedroom and she found herself pacing the area that served as her living room, kitchen, and dining room. If this kind of mood had hit her at her old place there wouldn't be much she could do beyond staying up way too late pacing and watching TV.
This building offered several other options. The guys were prone to hitting the gym to work off that excess energy. While that worked great for them, that was pretty much below last on her list. Maybe if she got out of the apartment for a little bit, visited with someone, this feeling would dissipate. She could always go visit the night crew up in the fifth floor control room. But she didn't want to interfere with them while they were working. Hmmm … who was off duty, awake, and at home?
Tossing her empty bottle in the recycling, she pulled yoga pants over her pajama shorts, toed into her slippers, and went to Lester's door. She didn't want to knock too hard in case he was asleep. Lester was usually up much later than this but she was never sure of his schedule because whatever the exact opposite of "steady hours'' was, that's what each Rangeman had. Up early one day, out all night for a takedown the next. Even the planned schedules varied so much that at least a couple of guys on the fourth floor were asleep at any given moment, day or night.
Three light taps with her knuckles and she stepped back. If he hadn't answered by the count of ten, she'd slip back to her place. At seven the door opened.
"Hey Beautiful. Come on in." Lester held the door open, gesturing for her to proceed him into the apartment.
He was in what she'd come to think of as his 'not planning to leave the apartment' clothes since he wasn't wearing pants. Emblazoned with "That sounds like a terrible idea. What time do we meet?", the faded gray t-shirt looked like a well-worn old favorite and hung halfway down his butt. His assets were concealed by a pair of form-fitting boxer briefs. The pattern on the briefs made her think of the planetarium she'd gone to once in college with its diagrams of constellations or something on a black background. Tonight he was barefoot though sometimes he'd accessorize such an outfit with flip flops.
She started toward the living room then veered into the kitchen when she caught sight of an open box of vanilla wafer cookies on the counter between the stove and fridge with a mug sitting next to it. Oh wow. When she was a little girl, those cookies were the best thing ever. It had been a long time since she'd had them and couldn't remember why she stopped eating them. She was already reaching for the box when she remembered her manners.
Hitting him with her best puppy eyes, she asked, "May I?"
"Go right ahead." He looked amused at her excitement.
She grabbed a couple of the wafers – okay four – then handed the box to him. He grabbed a bigger handful and made a pile on the counter. He pulled a mug from the cabinet for her and she helped herself to some milk from the fridge. Picking up his own mug, he started dunking and nibbling.
Steph should probably wonder how well milk and cookies would mix with the two beers she'd already had but dammit – this was tasty sugar and there was no way she was going to pass it up.
She took a minute to enjoy the sensation of the cold milk mixing with the flavor and texture of the vanilla cookies then explained why she was there. Somewhere during her not at all whiny speech about needing company, she realized that the liquid in his cup was brown, not white.
She frowned. "I'm confused.
Lester dunked his cookie twice into the cup. "Then you've come to the right place."
"I wasn't confused until I got here." She gestured to the mug. "Are you dunking your cookie in tea? You always use milk."
"Don't be silly. Nobody dunks cookies in tea." He nibbled the cookie then sipped from the cup. "This is whiskey."
"I dunk cookies in tea all the – wait. Whiskey? You're dunking them in whiskey?" She hated to judge but that seemed wrong.
"I kind of want to snack but I also kind of want to drink. So." Raising the cup in front of him at chest height, Lester had a delicate grip on the edge of the cookie with his thumb and forefinger, holding it a few inches above the whiskey. "Two birds, one stone."
Stephanie had a quick flashback of Father Donatelli holding the wafer over the chalice during consecration for communion. Lester could start his own religion. Something involving bare chests, sugar, and that killer smile. If she didn't have Ranger, she might be tempted to worship at Lester's altar, though she'd never felt that same tingle for Lester.
But what an altar it was. She covertly checked out the physique. There was muscle definition everywhere, of course. She'd seen his bare chest numerous times, mostly in the gym. He usually wore long baggy basketball shorts, though, so until she'd gotten acquainted with Stay At Home Lester, she hadn't gotten a good look at his long legs with those strong, firm thighs. The boxer briefs sticking out from under his t-shirt showed off more than they hid.
There was something off about the pattern on the fabric though. First glance she had it pegged as some kind of star chart with constellations mapped out. But that wasn't quite right. The closer she looked, the more those looked like –
"Plum." Lester bit the soggy half off a cookie and spoke around it. "You're staring at my crotch."
She whipped upright so fast that she nearly snapped her spine.
"No – well, yes – but no, I'm not –" Red-faced and flustered, she had to stop to take a breath before explaining. "I was trying to see the pattern on your underwear. I thought it was astronomy charts and constellations or something but right then I thought I saw stick figures."
Lester laughed and popped an entire cookie in his mouth. He wiped his fingertips on his t-shirt then flicked off the kitchen light.
Oh my god. Those were stick figures and they glowed in the dark. With the rest of the pattern – all of the stars and random lines and dots – out of the way, it was very clear that those were stick figures and that they were doing it. She tilted her head for a better view and Lester stuck one hip out to oblige. In fact, they were doing several very naughty things.
The light came back on.
Lester set his mug down then leaned against the counter. She wasn't sure how much liquid each cookie soaked up, but she could no longer see the surface of the whiskey.
"Okay, Beautiful. You're feeling restless and I could use a chance to blow off steam. How about we round up some of the guys and hit a bar? Maybe shoot some pool? I know it's only Thursday and it's already kind of late, but I don't work tomorrow and I don't think you do either, right?" He waited for her to confirm with a nod then continued. "If you promise you can be ready in half an hour, I'll see who wants to come. It'll be a small group and only for a couple of hours, but it'll get us out of the house, so to speak. What do you say?"
She perked up as he spoke. "I say, see you in thirty minutes."
Dashing back to her place, she rummaged through her clothes. She wanted to look nice but shooting pool at a bar with the guys called for something casual. In record time, she was in a pair of good jeans, with a lavender button-down Oxford shirt, sleeves rolled up to three-quarter length. Since the jeans were boot cut, she put on a new pair of brown leather boots with a three inch heel. Her hair went up into a ponytail and she applied three coats of mascara and put the lightest makeup on her face. Tonight, she wasn't out to impress or distract, only to have a good time with friends. After slipping the essentials into her pockets so that she could forego a purse, she hurried back to Lester's.
Two quick taps on the door then she barged in before he had the chance to say "Enter" much less get to the door.
"I'm ready early for once, can you believe it?" Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm. "I never thought – Oh, jeez! I'm so sorry!"
Half-dressed, Lester was in the living room with a short-sleeved olive green shirt on but unbuttoned, and was stepping into his jeans. "Well, someone's eager to get going," he laughed.
Steph caught a glimpse of his boxer briefs as he pulled up his pants. He'd changed into a different pair, still black but with big white block letters on them. She couldn't see all of the writing, but one side had "The Legend '' with a giant white arrow pointing to the crotch.
"The Legend? Seriously?" Stephanie grinned at him. Of course, if anyone had the audacity to wear those briefs and mean it, it would be Lester.
As Lester buttoned his shirt and got everything tucked and zipped, he winked at her and said, "I've been told it's truth in advertising."
"Does that glow in the dark, too?" she asked sarcastically.
"The lettering? Nope. But with the right condom, The Legend can." Wiggling one eyebrow, he gave her a devilish grin.
She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes at him then took his arm. "Come on, Mr. Humble, let's head out."
In a ridiculously short amount of time, Slick was dropping off Steph, Lester, Vince, and Ram at Bud's Tavern over in Villa Park. It was almost 11:30 p.m. and the bar didn't close until 2:00 a.m. Plenty of time for a few games of pool if the tables weren't too busy. When they were ready to leave, they'd call the control room for a ride so no one had to be designated driver.
The next two hours went by in a blur of laughter and fun. Ram turned out to be quite the pool shark and won most of the games. Each of the guys had a couple of dances. Interestingly to Steph, each time it was the lady who approached and asked for the dance. Steph had a couple of fellows looking her way, but waved them off. All the while the group was knocking back the alcohol. When the guys switched from beer to whiskey, Steph went for ever delicious margaritas.
Eventually, all that alcohol wanted out. She carefully made her way to the restrooms, having to lean on the occasional chair or wall or, once, a passing person. Oh, crap. She was way more wasted than she'd realized. 'Les was right. No more alcohol for me,' she thought when it took her three tries to get her jeans up and fastened. 'I'm switching to soda or water'. It was too late to avoid a hangover but at least she'd still remember the evening. Come to think of it, she was really thirsty. Something non-alcoholic would be great.
As Steph tried not to stagger on her way back to the pool room, a table in the corner near the ladies room caught her eye. At first she assumed that she was so drunk she was seeing things because hallucinations sounded more reasonable than having Grandma Mazur and one of her friends here in this bar at 1:30 in the morning on a weekday.
Leaning forward to be heard over the sound of the music and the crowd, Steph asked, "Grandma? What are you doing here?"
The movement made her feel dizzy so she sat next to her grandmother at the table. Grandma Mazur's face was flushed, her eyes bright, sure signs that she was over her limit. Mrs. Gluck radiated stolid sobriety which was good because she was most likely the driver.
"Well, this is a surprise!" Grandma Mazur hugged her. "You look like you're three sheets to the wind. I bet you're having a good time. Is it girls' night out? Or are you with those handsome men of yours?"
"Just the guys." There was something she needed to ask. What was it? Right. "Does Mom know where you are?"
"Oh yes," nodded Grandma. "Well, she knows I'm staying with Marilyn – you remember Marilyn Gluck, don't you? Well, she still has a driver's license so we've got Big Blue and we're doing one of those staycation things we've heard about. We're whooping it up tonight and sleeping in tomorrow. Later we'll hit one of the horse tracks. Or maybe a fancy restaurant."
As Grandma talked, Mrs. Gluck nodded along like one of those bobble head dolls. She was only a couple of inches taller than Grandma, and maybe twenty pounds heavier. While they both had similar hairstyles, she dressed the opposite of Grandma. Instead of a tank top, sheer shirt and short skirt, Mrs. Gluck was in a knee length floral A-line dress with support hose and orthopedic shoes. Stephanie was pretty sure that if she'd been sober, she would have recognized her as one of Grandma Mazur's bingo and casino buddies.
"Everything okay, granddaughter?"
At Grandma's question, Stephanie realized that she'd been licking her lips. They felt so dry. So did her mouth. She was really parched.
"I could really use a big drink of water."
Glancing at the table, she saw two empty wine glasses in front of Grandma, a big glass full of something dark in front of Mrs. Gluck, and absolutely no water glasses at all.
"I've got a big glass of iced tea here, if you like." Mrs. Gluck pushed a tall glass of tea across the table. "I asked for one of those flavored iced teas like they have at the nice restaurants. This one must be peach, though they didn't call it that. I don't like that flavor. I only took a sip, mind you."
Filled almost to the brim, the drink had a few sad little bits of ice left in it. Stephanie didn't even care that it had been sitting long enough for the ice to melt. She felt like the desert in desperate need of moisture. Remembering her manners enough to say thank you first, she guzzled the entire thing down at once and plonked the glass back on the table.
Within seconds, there was a really weird feeling in her head, as if her brain had expanded outside her body then collapsed back into place. Uh-oh. That felt like … no … it couldn't be. Crap.
"Mrs. Gluck, you said that drink had a funny name. Do you remember what they called it?" Even as she asked, 'please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong', was running through Stephanie's overtaxed brain.
"Long Island Iced Tea. I remember because I have a friend in Long Island. I"ve been to her house many times and her tea never tasted like that. " Mrs. Gluck shook her head sadly, very disappointed in the quality of the iced tea at the Tavern.
Double crap. Triple crap. And whatever five times crap was because that was how many different kinds of alcohol were in that gigantic drink that she'd pounded back like some frat boy with no sense of self-preservation. And that was on top of several beers and two margaritas. Dammit. She'd better get back to the guys, and tell them what happened. They'd make sure she got home.
Another brain expansion was followed by a stomach flip, like the drop of a roller coaster. Thanks to her rowdy college days, Stephanie knew she had about 15 or 20 minutes of consciousness left. Then, she'd either pass out or run around black out drunk. That should give her enough time to walk the older ladies out to the car and make sure they left. Before she could broach the subject, someone interrupted.
"Well look what we have here. Three old crones." Joyce Barnhardt, dressed in a violent shade of red with black leather accessories, stood by the table sneering at them. "Oh, sorry, Stephanie," she added with a sickly sweet fake sincerity, "You blended right in with the gray hair and wrinkles."
"Oh, hi, Joyce." Stephanie responded in the same tone and added a fake smile. "Did someone leave the barnyard gate open? Nice outfit. You get that at Skanks R Us?"
"At least I have a style." Joyce sneered, waving a hand to indicate what Steph had on. "You're just wearing clothes."
"And you're just jealous that I can keep a man's attention without taking them off." Steph responded with a hair flip and condescending smile. "Or having to buy bigger and bigger boobs."
Stephanie knew she'd scored a hit when Joyce gave her a dirty look, spun on her heel, and stalked off.
Brain expansion. Stomach flip. It took two tries to get out of her chair. She better move fast if she wanted to make sure Grandma and Mrs. Gluck headed out.
"Okay, ladies. I'm gonna." Steph put her hands on the table to steady herself. "I'm gonna walk you ladies to the car."
Grandma pinched her cheek as she went past. "You're such a good girl."
The archway to the pool room was on the opposite side of the bar. As they passed through, Steph tried to catch the eye of the Rangemen but there were too many people in the way. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to leave with Grandma. She'd be back before Lester and the others knew she was gone. As they walked out into the parking lot, she made sure she told the bouncer that she'd be back, though it took a couple of tries and Mrs. Gluck's assistance to get the message across.
The Buick was parked at the end of a row near the exit, so they had to tromp across most of the parking lot. They linked arms with Stephanie in the middle. She told herself that she was escorting the ladies but in reality they were holding her up. Grandma and Mrs. Gluck were talking animatedly about the places they planned to go in the next few days.
They were almost at the Buick when a black Lexus sedan, with Joyce at the wheel, sideswiped Big Blue. There was a loud screeching sound and the side mirror of the Lexus popped off and went flying. Joyce hit the gas and the car squealed out of the parking lot. As she turned onto the road, they could see a big blue stripe down the side of the black car. The Buick was unscathed.
"Well gosh and golly, what is her problem?" exclaimed Mrs. Gluck.
"That girl has been a problem all her life," said Grandma. "No manners."
"We're not letting her get away with that, are we?" asked Stephanie.
"No we are dingity-dang-darn are not!" Mrs. Gluck's voice was firm, her eyes critical. "What a rassa-frassa little flibberty-gibbet! I"ve a mind to take that little rudesby over my knee!"
Grandma sucked in a breath and stared at her friend. "Holy cow," she whispered to Stephanie, "I've only seen Marilyn this riled up once before. It was like watching Godzilla take down Tokyo."
Mrs. Gluck turned to them. "Well? What are you silly-heads waiting for? Get in!"
The last thing Stephanie remembered clearly was scrambling into the Buick with Grandma Mazur.
End Notes:
Both pairs of boxer briefs exist:
For the glow in the dark naughty ones, do a search for "The Big Bang Glow In The Dark Constellation Ball Hammock underwear by Shinesty".
For the pair with The Legend, search for "the man the legend boxer briefs". That pair also played a part in my fic Decaffeinated which you can find at my profile.