A/N: First things first, I'm now on summer break so you all can expect weekly updates at minimum. If for some reason it takes me longer, it's probably because I got distracted by a good book. Second things ah second I suppose, in this chapter I warped a lot of what Evanovich wrote to fit my supernatural needs. A lot of it is subtle for the most part. Don't worry about missing anything, eventually Stephanie will comment back on everything. That's the magic of first person pov.

Once again, thank you for all the inspiring reviews, alerts, and favs. I responded to all of the reviews since I posted the last chapter. All of you should have gotten the little one shot. If you didn't, it's no big deal since it's actually been posted as it's own story now. Check it out, it's called 'It's Just a One Shot Away'. Even those of you who I sent it out to should be interested to know that I've added a Ranger POV as it was requested. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next installment of our BEA and her first FTA and brawl.

All of the characters you know and love were borrowed from the lovely Ms. Evanovich. They will be returned to her in due time. Maybe never since I'm having so much fun.

Chapter Five: Bitches and Boxers

I WAS NOW the proud owner of a deep purple, nylon medium sized dog collar. I even splurged to get an engraved name plate that had my parents' address on it as well as my pooch name... 'Sugar Plum'. I made sure to put their address on it because if I ever got picked up, I didn't want to be fined for not being up to date on my shots.

It had been hard budgeting my purchase versus the need for comfort. I was concerned as to how scratchy nylon would be on my skin but I couldn't justify buying a leather collar when my current shoes had cost less. The animal department sales assistant had assured me that dog owners rarely complained about their dog's comfort. Like that made me feel any better.

I was swinging the bag as I walked back to my apartment. Walking was growing old pretty fast in this heat, there wasn't much to entertain myself with either. People watching is usually fun but everyone else was smarter than me and inside soaking up their a/c. By the time I reached my parking lot, my shirt was drenched with sweat and clinging to my body. Maybe I could stun Morelli with my lack of personal hygiene long enough to cuff him. Sadly, that was my best plan so far.

I walked over to the Nova to store the collar in its glove box, just in case the car suddenly became usable and I needed it to be on hand. I also didn't want to hoof it back up the stairs if I made it to the lot and forgot the collar. I'd given up on locking the Nova. Honestly if someone wanted to steal it, they were welcome to the hunk of metal.

I did a double take when I noticed there was a bag sitting in the front seat. I checked to make sure the radio was still in the car before hesitantly dumping out the bag. Out came a can of motor oil, an orange and a piece of paper. In all my Tenton experience, people didn't do things out of the kindness of their hearts so I was still a little confused. I picked up the note and unfolded it. In bold block letters it read: Should get that fixed, Babe.

I scowled and looked around for any sign of Ranger. I was now glad that I reeked of sweat, just in case he was lurking. I didn't sense anyone though. I wondered how he found me. Had he followed me after our shopping trip or had he asked someone? I was especially curious about why he'd bought me a gift.

All of those hours with my dad in the garage paid off as I added the oil myself to the Nova. I'd been the son he always wanted every once in a while when I wasn't jumping off roofs or at funerals with grandma.

I picked the keys out of the glove box and tossed the collar in. The Nova started after some coughing and wheezing. I turned up the air conditioning, blasted the radio and basked for a few minutes. So much better than walking.

I checked the page from the phone book that I'd torn out earlier while looking for an everything store within walking distance. I'd had to borrow my neighbor's phone book, mine currently lined Rex's cage. The gym I was looking for was on Stark Street. Stark Street was as different from the burg as it gets. There weren't cheerful homes and neighborhood parties there. Stark Street was where you went to meet dubious characters, in others words hos, drug dealers, kneecap busters, various other people you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley and apparently infamous heavyweight boxers. At ten-thirty in the morning the street was quiet, I still wasn't planning to head down any alleys though.

I would have missed the gym completely if it hadn't been for my enhanced vision. In small black letters Stark Street Gym was printed on the entrance's window. I wasn't sure how they attracted customers like that but they must have been all set if they had Ramirez training there. They most likely weren't losing customers to the crackhouse and nail salon that they were sandwiched between.

I found a parking space right across the street, lucky me! Before getting out, I thought back to the vague comments Ranger had made about Benito Ramirez. The gun, handcuffs and ten grand allowed me to shrug those thoughts off as I slipped out of the car and actually locked it. Now that the Nova was drivable, it was looking a lot more desirable. I was also pretty sure being stranded on Stark Street wasn't on my things to do before I died... or was killed here.

I shouldered my sleek new purse, wouldn't want to forget that, and made my way across the street to the gym. When I'd gotten dressed this morning, it hadn't been a tough decision. Something comfortable and lightweight or something stuffy that would make me look nice? Frankly I didn't give a shit if Ramirez and company thought I looked gross, actually that might be preferable. The last thing I needed was to fight off a bunch of testosterone fueled males as I tried to get information out of them.

As my hand was on the door, the little hairs on the back of my neck rose and I involuntarily tensed. Something felt off and everything in me was responding to it. I held my breath and listened. I could hear grunts and weight equipment from inside but I could also hear a car running, which was odd because I hadn't seen any around when I'd parked. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed a vehicle parked down the street some. The driver appeared to be watching me, which was a little bit creepy. I wrote it off as someone waiting for a special Stark Street service and forced myself to calm down.

I jerked he door open and stepped into the small foyer before I fixated on the mystery driver. Inside wasn't much better aesthetically than outside. I fought the urge to cover my mouth and nose as they were overwhelmed by the stench of manliness and ripe urine. It seemed few people here had discovered deodorant or restrooms. The whitewashed exposed brick had been graffitied and stained with other substances, my first guesses were blood and piss.

It wasn't very exciting inside. I'd honestly been expecting to see some guys pummeling one another but there were just some men lifting weights. They looked as innocent as a bunch of sweaty, tattooed, meaty guys could look. I took a few steps towards them and suddenly all eyes were focused on me. They didn't look so harmless now. I took a step back, faltering under their stares, and took a deep breath to calm myself. Calmness wasn't coming to me, instead that deep feeling of wrongness settled in further. I took another breath and nearly choked when I realized what was wrong about this picture. The sweat and pee had distracted me and kept me from noticing that none of the men in the room had their own scents. Grandma Mazur sneaking up on me and scaring the bejeezus out of me after masking her scent with magic flickered through my mind before I forced my attention of the approaching men.

They were openly hostile and suspicious. I wished to go back in time to wear something a little more flattering, because leering would have definitely been more preferable. Groped or gutted, it wasn't difficult to pick. There was no question that I was the odd man out, being that I was little, white and a girl. The men said nothing, just crossed their arms over their barrel chests and glared at me a few feet off.

I offered them a small wavery smile and clutched the handcuffs and gun through my purse. I wasn't a good enough shot to even get my gun out of the bag before they would be on me if things went bad. A horrible thought that the blood and urine belonged to unsuspecting guests suffocated me for a moment. I cleared my throat before I even attempted talking. "I'm loo- looking for Benito Ramirez?"

The biggest piece of muscle I'd ever seen stood up across the room. I hadn't noticed him before which scared me, I was used to noticing everything. I recognized him from when Mary Lou had dragged me to a fight with her on one of our girls' nights out. Ramirez looked even bigger and meaner than he had giving his opponent a concussion and broken jaw.

He stalked towards me stopping well within my personal space. His company of angry muscles suddenly looked a lot better and I began wishing I'd just questioned them no matter how useless they'd be. His cold, calculating eyes caught mine and kept me from backing away from him. "I'm Ramirez." His voice was gruff but he sounded very happy. His accompanying smile backed that up. The dead eyes and beaming smile had me mentally tucking my tail between my legs. There was no way this meant good things for me.

I cleared my throat again, "Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum. I was hoping that you-"

He took my hand and caressed it in lieu of a handshake, then pulled me toward him. I stumbled into his chest and my hand remained trapped in his. Ramirez dipped his head down to nuzzle my neck. Jesus Christ, what was he doing? "Benito Ramirez," he nearly purred into my neck. I shivered in disgust and broke out in goosebumps.

He finally let me go and took a step back so he could look at me again. His eyes were hooded and his smile was predatory. I wasn't sure if he thought my shiver was because I was attracted to him or if I was totally creeped out. I got the idea that either would be okay with him though. Even after I'd seen him fight with Mary Lou, I had assumed he was boxing for sport. Now that I'd been nuzzled and terrified personally, I knew he was more about the pain and fear he was causing. Ramirez would enjoy the hunt but would revel in the kill.

I took a step back hoping to get my own airspace. His hand shot out and gripped my shoulder stopping my backward movement nearly as soon as I'd made the decision. My graze swept back to his and I managed to hold in my shudder this time. I quickly prayed that the insanity and evil I saw in his eyes briefly was just normal crazy agony seeking boxer stuff and that I hadn't found the demon Grandma Mazur and I had been so sure Mrs. Morelli had been.

His hand hadn't left my shoulder, his thumb however had started to rub my bare arm. A comforting gesture had never been more desecrated. "Stephanie Plum," he said as if enjoying the taste of it on his tongue. "What is it you desire me for?"

Creepy, disturbing, yucky bastard. I tried to wrestle up my manners or at least a pleasant tone but they remained hidden so I went for pathetic and miserable, "I have a couple questions for you." I tried to maneuver my purse around his grip on my shoulder so that I could get him one of my cards without alerting him to my gun.

I looked up at him, silently telling him to take his hand off me but he just raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Need help, sugar?" I shook my head and reached blindly into the purse, feeling around for a business card. I pulled one out and stuck it in his other hand, careful to keep from actually touching him. He glanced my card over before pocketing it. I tried to remember if I'd included my address but I was too panicked to remember.

"What's a little girl like you doing apprehending fugitives?" He squeezed my arm a little before leering at me. "I could offer you a more interesting job."

I'd been feeling little a lot lately. Usually my 5' 7" frame makes me within the same height range of the person I'm with, but Ranger, Ramirez and the other gym patrons all towered over me. To make that even worse, I couldn't even count my slight Hungarian heft as a benefit. These guys were bulky but it was all muscle, and I was just a little flab. As sincere as I could manage, I told him, "Well that's generous, but this is sorta a family thing. But, um, I was wondering if you'd seen Joe Morelli recently or if you knew anything about him."

Impossibly his eyes hardened further before he shook his head in response. "Never met the guy. He shot my man Ziggy though, that's all I know of him."

I stood on my tiptoes to look around him to see the other men. He snarled and used the hand on my shoulder to push me back down. "I was just wondering if maybe they knew anything. Can I ask them?" I did my best to sound brave but it came out little more than a squeak. I hadn't anticipated how much more frightening his completely pissed off face was compared to his 'you'd make a nice snack' one.

I carefully kept my attention on him as he surprisingly humored my question and asked the others. They were silent and based on what I saw in my periphery, didn't react at all. He turned back to me and said, "They know nothing."

"There was rumored to be a witness to the shooting but he's disappeared. Have you heard anything about that?" I was hoping at that point that if he decided to end my life that it was like how Ziggy had gone. Ziggy probably hadn't even felt anything when his brains had painted the walls.

Ramirez just shook his head again and I didn't bother to bring up the others. Maybe he worked out with a gun jammed down his pants but I didn't want to risk it. If Ramirez decided I was no longer adorable, he'd probably end it with his hands.

I only managed my last question with the thought that this would be the last time I saw Benito Ramirez and once I had my answer, I could book it out of here with everything I'd come for. "It happened at Carmen Sanchez's apartment, do you know her? Has Ziggy ever said anything about her?"

Ramirez apparently decided the question and no answer part of my visit was over as he ignored what I'd said. He steered me toward some beat up chairs and pushed me down into one. "I'll go get you a soda," he told me as he started to walk away. Before he made it far, he hustled back and got right in my face. "Stay," he snarled then he walked off again.

There were big pane windows across from where I was comfortably seated. I stared longingly at the Nova for a moment before noticing that I could see the car with the mystery stalker guy in it. He was still there. He wasn't nearly as still as he'd been when I was outside. He was moving around as if agitated. I still couldn't get a good look at him, he was mostly shadows.

Ramirez came back with a single can of Coke. He'd already opened it for me so when he crouched down in front of me and waiting for me to start drinking, I was hesitant. He wouldn't roofie me at the gym he was known for working out at, would he? I took a few tiny sips and gave him a panicked smile, "Thank you, it's cold. I really can't stay and drink though. I'm meeting my family for lunch, my mother hates it when I'm late."

He didn't move, just gave me the predatory smile again and waited. I hadn't really lied yet, I tried to keep those to a minimum, but he clearly didn't know that my mother could probably take him on in the ring and win. "It's a bigger thing than just my mother, of course, which is why I can't be late. We're meeting some extended family at a diner. Sergeant Gazarra will be there. He's a personal friend of mine but he's also family, isn't that nice?" Shit, I was spewing anything and everything I thought of. I hoped if the lie didn't work, that at least the crazy talk and gleam in my eye put him off.

He rocked back on his heel and look me over before smiling even more frighteningly. "They'll understand if you're a late, after all, you're out catching criminals. Relax. Most girls would be honored to be treated by the champ."

Ohhh, this was bad. Stephanie didn't like the champ. Stephanie knew the champ was crazy when he talked about himself like that. Stephanie wished Grandma Mazur would call up the champ and threaten him.

"Look, thank you for the offer but I really can't. It's an important lunch meeting. I can't be late, they're waiting." I pleaded.

Ramirez dropped his smile and all signs of amusement drained from his face. "Don't lie to me. I gave you a chance," he bit out. There was no doubt that he was positive I was lying. I didn't get it. Everything about this gym was throwing me off. I could see now how the previous BEA for Morelli had ruptured his appendix, I was ready to jab mine with a pen.

I tried to fix my little lie issue by rambling, focusing on the police member of the family. "You can call Gazarra if you want. He really is family and I grew up as best friends with him. He won't be at the station right now though, because of lunch." I wished that I hadn't hocked my watch so that I could at least pretend to check the time as if I were late.

Ramirez yanked me back into his chest again, now wrapping an arm around me to hold me there. Like I actually stood a chance of shaking him off. The close proximity and his scentlessness were making my blood run even colder.

"I only came here to ask you some questions. I really can't stay, finding Joe Morelli is my first priority. If you can't help me, I really shouldn't dawdle here." It all came out a whisper. I was afraid if I spoke any louder that he'd catch my voice cracking.

"The champ can't let you leave yet, Stephanie Plum." He matched my pitch mockingly. "The champ just found you again and he's not done with you."

Um, what? What did he mean by again? Maybe he remembered me from that fight so long ago. Mary Lou and I didn't have good seats though, there was no way he'd actually gotten a good look at me from the ring. But maybe I could use this to get him to leave me alone... "I've seen one of your matches before, you know. Since I can't stay now, maybe I could catch you at another one?"

Ramirez glanced behind me, back toward the men who sounded like had gone back to their training and studiously ignoring me. I couldn't count on them for anything more than quieting my screams. He turned his attention back to me, "You'll attend. You're gonna be the champ's bitch." He stroked a worn finger across my face and leered. "The champ gets what he wants, when he wants it. Always. Guess what the champ wants from you now?"

He waited a few beats as if he actually wanted me to speak. I knew better than to fall into that trap though. The champ wanted his bitch's mouth shut unless it was for something other than talking. "The champ wants you to treat him nice, just like he treated you nice." The arm wrapped around my back dropped to my ass as he pulled me against him. He nuzzled my neck again and I felt his tongue flick out to lick my neck. I stiffened and tried to determine how hard it would actually be to grab my gun right now. I just had to grab it and shoot. I didn't even really need to take it out of the purse. I just needed to maim Ramirez and distract his goons long enough to get outside. Yeah that sounded good, too bad shooting the gun required me to actually pull the trigger.

"You're afraid of the champ, I can smell it." Oh, I bet he could. I could literally smell my pungent, sickly fear plus I was ready to pee my pants. He took a deep breath and let his eyes close in ecstasy. "Stephanie Plum doesn't need to fear the champ, he'll be gentle with her the first time. She's special to the champ."

I desperately wanted to shift and run for it but that wasn't a possibility. I'd get trapped in my clothes and there were all those pesky witnesses. I couldn't let the situation get any more out of control though, no matter how terrified I was. I summoned up every ounce of nutsy Plum courage I had and stomped on Ramirez's foot. "Let go of me."

And he did let go, mostly because I'd shocked him though. I stumbled backward and then froze because I honestly hadn't expected him to let go either. We both regained our composure at the same time; I bolted for the door and he made a grab for me. I'm fast but his height advantage allowed him to catch up to me in no time. He caught the back of my shirt and I heard it tear as he tried to pull me to him with it.

Desperate fear made me act. I raked my claws down his face, surprised that unknowingly I had started shifting. I quickly tried to pull myself together and managed to keep from going coyote any further. I couldn't manage to retract what had already happened though, not that it appeared to matter. He didn't seem to notice that claws had sprouted from my fingertips as he roared at me. "Nobody tells the champ what to do, especially not helpless little bitches!"

I heard the door open and someone slip in. Ramirez must have notice too as he took his attention off me long enough for me to shred the bottom of my shirt enough to unlatch him. I sprinted to the door again but didn't make it very for before I felt his hand wrapped him my hair. The shitty thing about hair is that it actually hurt when pulled and was physically attached to me so when he pulled, I was thrown to the floor.

The impact on the unvarnished wood had left me breathless and temporarily stunned, giving Ramirez a chance to straddle my body. In my fall, my purse had been flung several feet in the opposite direction so all I had was my own hands against his. I dug my claws into his thighs as far as I could and he just smiled insanely at me. Blood caked his face but I was horrified to notice that the wounds were closed. He'd already healed. I felt nausea sweep through me as I finally realized that this might be the end.

Just as I was getting ready to hurl my breakfast on Ramirez, I nearly went deaf from gunshots in the building. The thing about enhanced hearing is that sometimes it's a hindrance. The gunshots and their echoes were killing me. I pulled my claws out of Ramirez's legs, gave him one last swipe across the face, then covered my ears as best I could.

Ramirez ignored me as he turned blindly toward the shooter and roared again. He climbed off me then began making his way to the shooter. Glass shattered and rained down on me. I finally got with the picture and scampered up to my hands and knees. I carefully crawled over to my purse and pulled my own gun out with shaky fingers.

The shots ended once the shooter finished his clip. I took a moment to look around and noticed that the men were hiding on the other side of the gym behind the ring and Ramirez was on the floor bleeding from a few chest wounds. I tried to stand and run for the door but my legs wouldn't support me. I felt a hand wrap around my arm and haul me up. I yelped and whacked the owner of the hand as hard as I could with my purse. The gun, handcuffs, beeper, hairspray and other purse necessities made my purse both dangerously heavy and an edge ridden safety hazard.

The hand gave its own yelp but didn't let go. It started muscling me toward the door and I put up as much a fight as I could considering I still couldn't stand on my own. "For Christ's sake quit fighting me, Stephanie." I knew that voice. I also knew that scent. Hand belonged to Morelli, friggin' Joseph Morelli just saved my ass. "Come on, we need to hustle out of here. Chop, chop. Put those long legs of yours to use."

He pulled the door open and dragged me out after him still supporting the majority of my weight. My new backless shirt wasn't doing much to relieve the heat we walked into. I hoped wherever Morelli was taking me was shady, I didn't need to get a sunburn in some funky shape on my back to make me even more appealing. He probably would have left me here if he knew I was thinking about weird tans right now.

I checked over my shoulder t make sure no one was following us as Joe pulled me around a corner then down an alley. "We need to put as much space between us and that gym," he grunted. I thought about replying but my chest was burning from when Ramirez sat on me plus all the exercise Morelli was forcing on my noodle legs. I hoped it was just residual fear and adrenaline keeping me from walking and not the possible roofie in my drink.

We cut through some more alleys until he found an empty garage and we both ducked in. The chipped wooden pull-down door had been propped open with a tin trashcan. Morelli picked the can up and took it in with us letting the door close to hide us from anyone who happened to pass by.

I sat down on the cracked concrete and began thanking every higher power I could think of that I'd made it out alive and unraped. Sometime between leaving the gym and entering the garage, I had also lost my claws. Wouldn't that have been fun to explain to Morelli? I wiped Ramirez's blood on my hands onto my shorts before I picked glass from the cuts on my knees.

Morelli said nothing as he stood by the grimy windows watching the street. I could hear sirens approaching the gym. It probably would have been in my best interest to hang out closer to the gym so that I could alert the police to Joe's involvement and maybe get them to catch him for me. I was feeling pretty fond of Morelli right now though, since he saved me and all. I'd consider this his karmic free pass and I vowed the next chance I got, he was going down.

The sirens died down and Joe finally turned his gaze back to me. His face was tight with anger, concern and stress. I wondered how much of it was caused by me before giving him a pathetic finger wave. He crouched down next to me and looked me over. "How much of that blood is yours?"

I absently rubbed at my fingers. "Just the stuff on my knees and that's your fault. Ramirez hadn't drawn blood yet." I shivered as I thought about what Ramirez likely had planned for me and I hoped like hell that Morelli had killed him.

"Good, maybe that will keep you from doing something else stupid like going back." He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned before sitting down heavily next to me. "Please tell me what the hell you were thinking when you thought going in there was a good idea. I saw you hesitate before going in."

I sniffed angrily before answering him, "It wasn't just my stupid idea. I talked to Gazarra and he suggested looking for Carmen or that other guy as a way to find you."

He dragged his hand down his face and gave me an incredulous look. "So you thought you'd try a method that even the police aren't following? Well that's completely understandable."

"It worked, didn't it!" I sounded like a petulant two year old and I didn't care. "I found you. Or maybe you found me, stalker."

He smiled slightly before stifling it. "You're still playing bounty hunter?"

"I have business cards and everything now." I rooted through my purse with both hands. I grabbed a card and shoved it into his hands before pulling out my gun and jabbing him with it. "I think I've gotten better at it too. See, gotcha."

A lot of good the gun did me. Morelli tore it out of my hand and began looking it over. "It's real and everything." He whistled before emptying all the bullets out onto the floor. He suddenly look up at me with a pissed off scowl. "You could have saved your damn self instead of making me give myself away."

I was pretty sure telling him that it was too hard handling it with claws would be stupid but I also didn't want to confess that a few minutes of practice with Ranger had only made me even more sure I couldn't actually pull the trigger. Those few minutes of training had also taught me that there was no way I'd be able to reload the gun in time to make it a formidable weapon against Morelli. He'd won this time, again. I sighed, "You're supposed to be under arrest. I have a gun and handcuffs, you're supposed to be cowering and let me take you in."

Joe snorted then handed me the gun back. I began collected the bullets he'd scattered around and tossed them back into my purse with the gun. "Wait, you have a permit to carry a concealed?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Of course I have a permit, not that it should matter to you. You're a fugitive, remember?" I hadn't even printed out a picture of one on a public access library computer, although I wasn't sure if the one Ranger had given me would be any more legitimate.

He looked confused then suspicious. "Where'd you get one so quickly?"

"I don't know, Ranger got the permit for me. Just drop it, it's not like you can haul me down to the station to check it out."

"Ranger got it for you..." He looked like he wanted to strangle me for a moment. "Now I know it's not a real permit. He probably has his own little printing press in that fortress of his."

"If I get arrested for it, I'll be sure to have him bail me out then."

"How about you just quit while you're ahead and still in one piece for the most part. Leave Ramirez and me alone. Find a nice job as a hairdresser." He smirked at this. "Just- just leave Ramirez alone, okay? He's not someone you need to be messing with. He's been charged with rape three times and none of them have stuck because the victim always disappears. I saw how he looked at you. You don't want to be number four, Steph." Oh, so this was what Ranger meant when he said I shouldn't mess with him. Why hadn't he just told me?

I wasn't sure how to deal with a concerned yet still condescending Joe Morelli so I just told him I'd keep what he said in mind. If I said anything more I was afraid we'd both end up trying to clobber the other.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before he got up and peaked out the window again. I couldn't hold in my comment any longer "I'll catch you eventually for real. I'm pretty good at finding you, in case you haven't noticed. It's going to be hard swallowing all that ego when I do."

I got a nasty look from him. "It's not my ego that's the problem. You have no clue what you're doing and for some crazy reason I feel like I have to keep you from dying even though you're hell bent on sending me to jail. It's gonna be hard to save your ass from jail, sweetheart."

"I wouldn't have needed saving if it weren't for you! Plus I had a handle on the situation. Who says I needed your help at all? You better not be expecting me to say 'thank you'. I'll hit you with my car again before that happens."

He looked me over again and gave me a pitying smile. "Whatever's gonna help you sleep tonight." He turned back to the window and checked it one last time before saying, "It looks clear, we should get going."

I held out my hand so that he could pull me up. I was bruised, sore, cut and I didn't even want to guess what my hair looked like after the fight, heat and getaway. I limped my way after Joe on our way back to Stark Street. He was ever vigilant that we weren't seen, peaking around corners and darting into shadows. I was like an elephant trailing after James Bond.

There were no sign of police cars or ambulances so Morelli followed me across the street to my car. "Why aren't you heading on home in your own car by now?"

He ignored me for a moment and stood admiring the Nova. While it was left on its own, someone had torn off the muffler and tailpipe then flattened them into scraps of metal. The noise violation fines I might get were the least of my worries as the Nova was also sporting a new paint job. Inventive feminine swears covered every last inch of the thing, even the license plate had been painted over with 'pussy'.

I didn't care anymore. The orange still sat in the passenger seat and while it was no TastyKake, a little food was going to go a long way towards fixing my day. I unlocked the door and tossed my purse in then turned to glare at Joe who was still in awe of the Nova.

Together we glanced down the street at his own car, which hadn't been touched. He turned back to me with a shit eating grin. "Maybe it is my lucky day. I just meant to be a boy scout and help you cross the street. Make sure you didn't trip and take a nose dive or anything, and instead I get to admire your new detailing. It looks nice, how much did the vanity plate cost you? I wouldn't have gone with the neon colors but then glow-in-the-dark isn't really my thing."

I growled at him. "If I were you, I'd run back to my car. I have a history of hit and run offenses and I'm going to be in my car with it running a hell of a lost faster than you're going to be safe in your friggin' immaculate one. Don't put it past me to ram your car either! I've had a bad stinkin' day and this baby doesn't have airbags to stop me."

I nearly tore my door off opening it again. "Your mother told on me to my mother. I will get you back for that."

Ending A/N: This is actually the first chapter I've written that I'm not completely happy with, which is a huge bummer. Basically what I'm trying to say is that if you're disappointed or hated it, you're not alone. Ramirez is a creep and I didn't like writing him which made the whole chapter like pulling teeth for me.

The next chapter should have Stephanie stand off with her mother over Grandma Mazur's phone call and lots more bounty hunting help from her in general.

As I mentioned in the beginning, I now have a new story for the one shots from this story. It's called 'It's Just a One Shot Away'. I really enjoyed writing that shopping one shot but short stories aren't really my thing. If you'd like a scene from this story, drop me a PM or a review about it and I'm sure I can write a little something to post. Examples: Grandma Mazur's POV of dinnertime madness, a 'present' tense version of Stephanie's first encounter with the wolves, Connie's thoughts after meeting Stephanie etc. I'm open to just about anything as long as it's referenced in this story.