Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns all characters, though if I could, I'd own Morelli. Ranger too

"Well if that isn't a pip of an outfit." Grandma Mazur was at the door waiting for us. Her hair was recently permed, and she was wearing her favorite mauve pants, with matching nails, and a floral top. "You think they make those pants in my size? I'd sure like to get a pair."

In the burg grandmas and mothers have a skill of knowing when one of their own is going to show up at their door. Every time I show up either my mother or grandmother are waiting at the door for me, usually holding their breath. Grandma Mazur loves my life, and most days wants to trade with me. She moved in with my parents a few years ago when grandpa Mazur took the shuttle to the big airport in the sky.

My father was in his usual chair in front of the television. He looked up when Joe and I came in, muttered something that sounded like wish I had a gun, and looked back at his paper. Joe joined him, making small talk about the game and other guy stuff and I slumped into the kitchen. As soon as my mother saw me, she made the sign of the cross and reached into the cabinet for her bottle. She took a few swigs and turned back to the stove.

"Don't you think my legs would look great in those pants?" Grandma asked as she looked me over. "Where do you get pants like that anyway? And how do you get in them without a zipper?"

I tried to change the subject as I saw my mother's hands turn white as she gripped the spoon. "So, what's for dinner?" Food was a good distraction for our family, and instantly she let out the breath she was holding.

"Ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, your grandmother made rolls, and chocolate cake."

"I could use some chocolate cake."

"Oh my god! Did you shoot someone today?" Her face was now turning white along with her hands.

"No! I hardly ever shoot anyone!"

"That's because you don't know how to have any fun." Grandma was coming in and out of the kitchen, getting the table ready.

"Why couldn't I have a normal daughter?" My mother was shaking her head, eyeing the door that hides her stash of whiskey. "Mabel Zimmerman's daughter works at a grocery store, she never wears leather pants, never shoots anyone."

"I never shoot anyone!" I screamed, hands in the air.

"Mabel Zimmerman's daughter never screams at her either."

"Well Mabel Zimmerman's daughter can kiss my ass!"

"Stephanie!" My mother dropped the spoon she was holding and grandma snuck out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I'm having a bad day. I ripped my last pair of jeans, my rent was ten days late, I drive a car that looks like it's meant for clowns, and Lula went to the mall to get me new pants and came back with these." My hands were waving up and down excitedly, showing off the horrible clothes I was forced to wear.

"Well I heard Victoria's Secret was hiring. Maybe you should go down there and apply for a job."

"Dressed like this? Weren't you listening, I don't have any clothes to wear, and all my money is gone." I could feel the tears stinging my eyes and I fought them back. Crying was the worst thing that could happen. Our family doesn't handle crying well.

"How about tomorrow I go out and pick you out an outfit and an application."

"Hunh." I blew out a sign, ready to give anything a try. At least if I worked at the mall I would be close to a place to buy clothes. "Alright. I'll apply." I crossed my arms like a teenager and fought back the urge to stick my tongue out.

"Now, let's eat. You're father will throw a fit if dinner is late."

We went into the dining room then, carrying out the last of the food. Joe was already at the table, along with my father and grandma. When I sat down Joe leaned over and kissed the top of my head and whispered in my ear, "Hard to shoot anyone when you never carry a gun."

I elbowed him under the table and his smile widened. Morelli was nothing like he used to be, if he was he wouldn't be sitting at my mother's table. When I was a child, along with being taught the importance of a good lipstick I was warned about boys, and not just boys, but Joe Morelli. When I was still young and naive I played choo choo in his parent's garage. When I was a little older, and much more naive I played another type of game with him behind the éclair counter at the pastry shop I worked at. Now that I'm much older, and less naive I play all sorts of games with him anywhere I can. We fight a lot, which leads to the off again part of our relationship, but when things are good, they are really good.

Morelli looks tough. He has a scar through his left eyebrow from a bar fight. His body is hard and muscular, and his dark hair is wild and always in need of a trim. He is a typical Italian boy on the outside, and a changed man on the inside. I once ran the old Morelli over with a car, and while sometimes I felt like doing that to the new Morelli, for the most part the only thing I wanted to do with him and a car involved the backseat and no clothes.

We left my parents house after two rounds of cake, more questions about the pants from grandma, and just before my mother finished off her fourth glass of wine. Morelli had driven us there in his new SUV because he refused to be seen in the bean. I couldn't blame him. Personally I'd rather walk or take a bicycle than drive the bean, but both of those counted as exercise and I was allergic to sweating. Okay, maybe I wasn't really, but saying it made me feel better about being lazy. He pulled out of his parking spot and headed for my apartment building. Not a good sign.

"So I take it we aren't spending the night together." I had the window rolled down because even though his car was brand new, it already smelled like dog.

"Can't. I've got a case I'm working on and I need to put some extra hours in."

Morelli was a plain-clothes cop, and a damn good one. In some ways he was married to the job, just like all the rest of them, but he usually could find time for me. Most of the time we didn't discuss his work. For one because it usually had to do with killings and brutal stuff that I didn't want to hear about. Another reason was because it was the job, and he kept the job and his personal life separate. Or as separate as I would allow him. Lately my personal life and his job seemed to cross paths a lot. Neither of us was very happy about it, considering it had resulted in a lot of near death experiences for me.

"I don't have to be at the station for at least another half an hour." His eyes were melting as we pulled into my parking lot.

"Let me guess, you were hoping I'd invite you up for a little while."

"Actually I was hoping we could christen the new car."

"You're joking right? It smells like Bob in here."

Bob was part golden retriever, part Hoover vacuum. He was dumped on me a few months back by a cop friend who said he needed a dog sitter, when in reality he needed a sucker to pawn Bob off on. Recently Bob decided he'd rather live in a man's house and moved his dog dishes over to Morelli's, which is fine by me because Bob has a tendency to eat all my favorite clothes. And let's be honest, I'm already running low on wearable items.

We were walking into my apartment, and Morelli was pulling open the strings on the side of my pants. I dropped my purse and keys on the floor as his mouth trailed up my neck causing my knees to buckle.

"These pants really aren't that bad. But I like the other ones better."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"Because, they ask if I'm feeling lucky. And when I'm with you, I'm always feeling lucky."

There was a pounding on the door, not hard and angry, but fast and urgent. I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on my sweat pants and staggered out my bedroom door. Pulling the door open I saw my mother, hair sticking out everywhere and my grandma behind here, yammering on about something that was obviously grating on my mother's last nerve.

"We just wanted to bring over the clothes we got for you, and the application." She handed me a Macy's bag, and a few pieces of pink paper. We went into the kitchen and my mother started a pot of coffee. Rex was still in his soup can and I dropped him a few cheerios and a carrot. He scurried out, shoved everything in his checks and disappeared again. Rex doesn't like visitors. Rex really doesn't like anyone.

"You know, I should have gotten myself one of those applications." Grandma was looking in at Rex, tapping her finger on the cage. "I could work there. You think they got an age limit."

"I'm not sure." My mother was gritting her teeth as she spoke and I knew she was dying for a little drink.

"Maybe I'll go back tomorrow and apply. You get a discount if you work there, and I sure did like those underwear. Though I don't understand some of them, the butt was missing. How can they sell underwear without a back on it? I'd complain if I got all the way home and realized half the fabric was missing."

My mother made the sign of the cross all the way down the hall. I locked the door behind them and went through the bag she'd brought. Inside there was two pairs of plain blue jeans, two black v-neck shirts, a black skirt and a red sweater. Perfect. Pouring myself another cup of coffee I went into the living room and switched on the TV. Nothing. I hit a few more buttons took the batteries out and put them back in. Nothing. My cable must have been shut off.

Great. Now I had nothing to do and nothing to watch. I could go to the office before Connie left for the day and see if there were any new skips, but I really didn't want too. And I mean I really didn't want too. I'd just gotten these new jeans and it seemed like such a waste to trash them so quickly. Instead I decided to fill out the application for Victoria's Secret. I knew it was a long shot, but I figured there wasn't any harm in trying.

After I was done I showered, did the gel, curlers and spray thing with my hair, added two layers of mascara and gathered up my shoulder bag. It was still early in the day so the parking lot was empty. All the seniors were out getting their breakfast and shopping done. Angling behind the wheel I pulled the bean out of the lot and headed for Quaker Bridge Mall.

The lot was full and it took me a few minutes to find a parking spot. Everyone seemed to think that today was a great day for shopping. I felt the same way, but I had to remind myself I couldn't buy anything. Instead of going in through Macy's I took the food court entrance in hopes I could avoid the shoe section and buying another pair of black heels. Walking into Victoria's Secret I rushed to the counter, knowing if I looked around I'd end up leaving with a bag full of panties, the kind grandma was so confused about.

"Hi. I'd like to turn my application in."

"Let me get the manager." The girl behind the counter was early twenties, basic pretty, and all hair.

"Thanks." I waited around for a minute and a blonde woman came up to me, smiling and beaming as though she were in a pageant.

"Hi I'm Barbie, I'm the manager here. May I help you?"

"Umm, yeah. I'd just like to turn my application in."

"Oh great." She looked around to see if anyone was near. "We've had twenty people turn in applications in the last hour, and you're the only one who wasn't wearing orthopedic shoes. So you're hired."

"Don't you even want to look at my application? Or know what hours I can work."

"Honestly, we just need someone to cover a few hours every day. It would only be about twenty hours a week, you get 30% off and free samples when new lines are released. As long as you can work a couple hours a day and don't pee in a bag, I don't care if you've been arrested multiple times. So, do you want the job?"

"I'll take it." Crap. What was I getting myself into?

"Great, you can start tomorrow. You'll need to wear all black, and nice shoes, no flip-flops or sneakers. Be here at noon and you'll start your training."

"Okay. Thanks." And I left. Wow, that was fast.

So this was a good thing. Right? I mean I wanted a new job, I needed a new job. But this was just part time, so I'd have to keep bringing in skips or else I'd be out on the street. But this was a start. My mom had just bought me a black skirt and black shirt, and I did have those new heels I'd been dying to wear. Maybe this was all a sign. Maybe it was supposed to work out this way.

One thing was for sure, I'd be keeping this job a secret for a while. The last few times I tried to get a job I never saw the second day. This would just be another pain in my mother's side for me to get a job and lose it within twenty-four hours. So I wouldn't tell anyone, that way if it didn't work out, no one would be any the wiser.

I left the mall then, knowing that my womanly urge to shop would break through my resistance at any moment and I'd be even farther down the hole. There really wasn't anything for me to do. It was a Saturday afternoon, the sun was out, I had my windows down and I wasn't even sweating. I drove past my parent's house but didn't stop. If I did I'd slip and tell her about the job, and I really didn't want to get her hopes up. Instead I went over to Morelli's. My plan was to take Bob out for a walk since I had a key but when I got there Joe's SUV was parked out front.

Walking in the front door I looked around. The house was trashed. There were beer bottles everywhere, empty ripped up wrappers and pizza boxes on the floor. Bob was sprawled out in a patch of sunlight and when he saw me walk in he jumped up and ran to me. As is customary for a Bob greeting he shoved his head in my crotch and wagged his tail. I found his leash on the table and hooked him in. We went down the street and he did his business and then we headed back to the house.

Just as we were walking up a familiar car stopped in front of the house. Joyce Barnhardt. To say I hated Joyce would be the understatement of the century. I guess in some ways I owed her. If I hadn't come home to find her on my brand new dining room table with my brand new husband I'd probably still be married, and horribly unhappy. She was dressed in her usual leather pants that stopped just above her crack, leather vest that pushed her recently bought boobs up and into her chin, and flaming red hair that matched her nails, and today, her shoes.

Bob bounded down the yard towards her, pulling his leash from my hand. His nose went right for her crotch but when he got there he backed away, cowering in fear. Bob had never had that reaction before and I sensed it was because another male dog had already marked Joyce's privates as his own territory.

"Is Joe home?" The smile plastered on her face was as fake as what she had under her vest.

"He's asleep right now. Long night." This could be true. If it wasn't, she'd never know.

"Well tell him I stopped by."

"Huhn. Sure." Like hell. I wasn't even going to mention this to him. She was up to something, and I was going to find out what.

When I took Bob back inside he raced up the stairs, and I heard him pawing at the door. I traipsed up after him and found the bedroom door closed. Pushing it open I was surprised to find Morelli asleep, sheets wrapped tightly around him, five o'clock shadow in full bloom. Instead of waking him I crawled in bed next to him, snuggling my arms around his waist.

"Good morning." I whispered in his ear as he started to stir.

"If you wanna make it a really good morning try moving your hands a little farther south." He rolled over then, pulling me in close so he could kiss my forehead.

"Long night?"

"I never made it to night. The day just skipped past it. I got in around four this morning."

"Big case huh?"

"Serial killer. He's targeting kids. I'm about one step behind him."

"Guess that means you better get up and moving so you can be one step ahead of him."

"That's the plan for today. I'll probably be gone all night again, and most of tomorrow. I've gotta catch this guy before he strikes again."

"If you're going after someone like that you really need to be rested. Why don't you sleep for another hour or so and then I'll wake you up." I was running my fingers through his hair, trying to knock him back out.

"Can't. What I need is a shower and a big cup of coffee. And," He had his hand up my shirt, tracing the line of my bra.

"Well I guess I could help you out there."

"You guess huh?"

He was up then, grabbing me around the waist and throwing me over his shoulder. With one hand he turned the shower on and threw me into the tub soaking my clothes all the way through.

"Jerk!"

"Just words cupcake." He was tugging at my pants, working hard to get them down but they were stuck to my legs. "A little help here?"

"You want it, you get it yourself. I'm not helping."

"I could just cut them off you."

"Don't you dare! I just got these pants."

"They are coming off one way or another, so you decide if you wanna help, or hinder the process."

"Sometimes I wonder why I even come over."

"I think I can remind you why."

Morelli had his coffee, hugged me, kissed me and then left. I was standing in the kitchen in a pair of his old basketball shorts and one of those t-shirts that comes in a three-pack bag when I decided I needed to find something to do. My best bet was to leave, but I figured I could at least make myself useful before then.

Starting in the living room I picked up all the trash, dusted and vacuumed, scrubbed and polished. The house was cleaner than normal, but it wouldn't pass a burg test. Just as I was finished up gathering the laundry there was a knock on the door. Walking down the stairs I didn't realize I still had clothes in my hand when I opened the door and almost screamed. Grandma Bella.

Grandma Bella was Joe's grandma and she was Satan. Okay so maybe she wasn't really Satan, but she was in my life. She hated me, and when she hated you you had to watch out. She could put the eye on you and make your hair fall out, or your teeth rot. Sometimes she had visions, most of which I didn't fully believe, but I half believed and it was enough to scare the bejesus out of me.

"I knew you'd be here. I had a vision. Living in sin with my grandson, the shame of it all. And look at you, flaunting his delicates around for the whole street to see!"

I looked down in my hand and realized I was holding Joe's boxers. Quickly I tossed them onto the chair behind me and turned back to the door. Joe's mother was standing behind his grandma, and even though she didn't like me all that well, she was more a fan of me than Bella was.

"Would you like to come in?"

"We can't stay long," his mother said. "We just stopped by to drop off this casserole and invite you both for dinner tomorrow night."

"Thank you. I'll let Joe know, but he said he will be really busy with work the next few days."

"Humph. Work. In my day a man always made time for his mother. He also didn't live in sin with a woman. When he found a woman he wanted he married her. Why hasn't Joseph asked you to marry him?" Bella was on her game today. She hadn't seen me in a few weeks and I was sure this was all pent up energy she just had to get out.

"I'm really not sure. Maybe he doesn't want to marry me."

"I can see you're point." She was looking me up and down, when suddenly she stopped. "I'm having a vision."

"Oh god." Joseph's mother was rolling her eyes, obviously she enjoyed the visions as much as I did.

"It is all so clear. I can see it now. Yes. Joseph will not marry you because he will be with her, with the other girl. She is the one he will bring home to us." She shook her head. "I'm tired now. I need to go rest."

"Make sure to tell Joe we stopped by." They both turned to leave then and I was left standing at the door, hanging on for dear life.

A/N:

Well thanks again to my mother, who beta's and calls me every day and tells me to send this to Janet. Haha, thanks for the advice mom, but no.

Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, and the like.

Keep it coming, and I'll do the same.

And to you Ranger ladies, never fear, he'll be here soon, and what a splash he'll make =]