Post by Margot on Mar 14, 2006 8:19:57 GMT -5
*spoilers* for "Ten Big Ones" - written before "Eleven On Top" came out
This story immediately follows “Ten Big Ones.” Because it was written with fans of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series in mind, a familiarity with the characters and their backgrounds is assumed.
If you’re unfamiliar with the series, please accept my apology for the lack of backstory.
Please note: These characters were created by Janet Evanovich. I do not own them, but I sure have fun playing with them.
Enjoy!
******
SUNSHINE
As Joe surveyed the playground, he went into cop mode and organized an investigation. Ranger escorted me to a nearby ambulance where paramedics checked me over for serious injuries and cleaned up my cuts and abrasions.
Once the scene was secure, Joe drove me to his office. I spent hours at the police station making a statement about my near-death at the hands of Junkman and his cronies, and the events that led up to it. By the time I finished telling my story, the sun was peaking over the horizon, attempting to penetrate the dome of pollution that separated Trenton from the rest of the world.
I stepped into the ladies room to check my hair. My locks were the wildest, frizziest tangle I’d ever seen. Thank God. The hair drew attention away from my bruised and bloodied face. At least, I hoped so.
I ventured into the hallway and found Joe, Ranger, and Sally waiting for me. My stomach growled. Everyone laughed and Ranger spoke up. “There’s a new place up the street that serves generous portions.”
“Sounds good to me. Someone feed me now,” I said.
“Fudgin’ A. Lets go!” Sally said. Sally and I rode with Joe. Health nut Ranger chose to walk the two blocks. As Joe pulled out of the station parking lot, I noticed Ranger fishing in his pocket.
Over breakfast, I went into my zone. Okay, I don’t usually have a zone, but I needed one just then. I had to figure out where to go after breakfast. Joe’s? Ranger’s? My parents’? Tropical vacation? Going on holiday seemed like the best option, but I couldn’t afford it.
Sally kept the conversation rolling, Joe replied now and then, Ranger patiently observed all of us, and I stared out the window. I couldn’t really see anything. The glare of the sun bounced off some windows across the street, blinding me, yet sheltering me in a bubble of solitude.
The bubble burst when a black SUV parked in front of the Red Rooster. Suddenly, I was shaded from the sunbeams and drawn out of my reverie.
Joe caught my eye and motioned for me to follow him. We stepped into the alley behind the café and he pulled me into a crushing embrace. “Ouch! Joe, you’re squishing me. Loosen up a bit.”
“Cupcake.” He addressed me with his usual term of endearment, but his typical playfulness was gone. “My beautiful Stephanie. I thought I’d never see you alive again.”
“It all worked out, Joe. I’m fine, the Junkman will never kill again, Sally’s rolling in clover, and I’ve got enough money in the bank that I can afford to take a few days to heal up before I chase any more skips.”
Joe stiffened at my words. “Are you crazy? You are, aren’t you?” It came out low and gravelly, with a fierce edge that was scarier than a yell. “If Sally had gotten there any later, you’d have been gang raped. If he hadn’t known where to go, you’d be dead. I’d be planning your funeral right now, sweetheart! This stress is killing me. Your lifestyle is killing me. And you’re already thinking about going back to that job? Why can’t you stay at home and make meatloaf?”
“Am I crazy?” I pushed out of his arms. “You’re the crazy one! I can’t cook, Joe. I’m no good at it. I can’t stay at home and tend to the house. I get cabin fever. I can’t be the woman you want me to be. Why can’t you want the woman I am? What’s so wrong with her?”
As the argument heated up, I realized that Joe’s house was no longer on the list of possible places to stay. Our remarks disintegrated into verbal equivalents of rude Italian sign language, until Joe finally said what we were both thinking. “This isn’t working. I love you, but I can’t do this.” And then he walked away.
I went back into the café and discovered that Tank had joined Ranger and Sally. “What happened to the fudgin’ cop?” Sally blurted. “Did he get scared and run away? I always knew he wasn’t man enough for you.”
Ranger studied me carefully while Tank burst into laughter.
Usually, Tank is the silent type. Usually, I see Tank during evening surveillance and distraction jobs. Apparently, Tank is a morning person. “Sally Sweet,” he howled, “you’re an alright guy. I never understood what the Bombshell saw in Morelli. He’s got a few good qualities, but he doesn’t get you, Stephanie. To deserve a fine woman, a man’s gotta be like John Travolta in ‘Phenomenon.’ He’s got to buy her chairs. Baby, that cop doesn’t even look at your chairs. He’s a step up from that idiot ex-husband of yours, but you can do better.”
Unh. I didn’t know Tank knew so much about me.
“Your stuff is in Tank’s SUV.” Ranger reached across the table and rubbed his fingertips lightly across my knuckles. “You’ll hit the wall soon and sleep for hours. Where do you want to go?”
Talk about mixed messages. Ranger has all of my stuff removed from his apartment, yet caresses my hand. Is he kicking me out, or coming on to me? “I don’t know where to go. I hate to have my parents see me banged up like this, and Valerie’s still using my apartment.”
He did that ESP thing and focused his chocolate eyes on mine. “You’re always welcome at my place. I just wanted to be ready for whatever you decided. Your choice, Babe.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about,” Tank said as he pushed away from the table. “That one’s buying your chairs. Where am I going, Bombshell? Your parents’ house, or the RangeMan building?”
I knew what Tank wanted to hear. And I wanted to say it, too. But was it the best choice? Did I belong at Batman’s side?
I tried to do the ESP thing on Ranger, but he put on his emotionless mask and I couldn’t get a read. He wears the mask to hide his thoughts. What is he hiding from me? Would it disappoint him if I went to my parents’? Maybe he doesn't want me to see how much my decision matters to him. Maybe he'll miss me if I leave.
My energy was slipping away and I didn’t want to analyze my feelings, or Ranger’s. I didn’t want to explain myself to anyone about anything. I didn’t want to tell my mom about Joe and me yet. I just wanted to sleep. One thing was certain, I wouldn’t have to say a word if I went back to Ranger’s.
“Tank,” I started, and then things went a little fuzzy. I was thinking, “Tank, I want to go to the mini Batcave,” but the words wouldn’t come out.
I awoke in a warm patch of sun pouring through the window. I stretched a bit, enjoying the smooth sheets against my skin, the comforting mattress below me, and the spicy, masculine scent of the pillow. Either Tank or Ranger had done some ESP. I was right where I wanted to be.
A familiar whirr caught my ear. I turned to see Rex running in his wheel on the bedside table. Normally, he was a night owl, but maybe he came out to play in the daylight because he missed me. Yeah, I was going with that.
My stomach roared; I smiled and wondered if the fridge would be stocked only with health food, or if Ranger had some of my kind of food on hand.
I stepped into the bathroom, took care of business, splashed some water on my face, and pulled my bird’s nest hair into a ponytail. I poked my head out of the bedroom door. “Hello? Anyone there?”
“I’m here,” Ranger replied, sounding sexy.
“Is it just you? I’m not looking so hot.”
“Doubt that. It’s just me out here.”
I felt completely different from how I did at my last conscious thought this morning. Energized, I skipped to the kitchen. “I’m starving! Is there any real food?” Ranger gave me a sly smile as he reached into the freezer and it dawned on me that he didn’t have much fun when I wasn’t around. “I can’t believe how rested I feel,” I remarked as I grabbed a carton of Karamel Sutra ice cream and a spoon from Ranger’s hand. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. 4:30. “I guess nine hours of sleep will do that for a girl.”
Ranger’s eyes slid to mine and he seemed to bite back a laugh. “Guess again.”
“Guess again at what?”
“At how long you slept.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly nine hours, but it was around that.”
“Try 34.”
“What? I slept for 34 hours? Are you serious? I slept Saturday away? It's Sunday evening?” He nodded and kept nodding through each question. Even more questions flooded my brain. How did this happen? Did Ranger also sleep in the bed during the night? Hot flash! Did people wonder if I’d been kidnapped? How come no calls came to my cell phone and woke me? Have I turned into a vampire? What does my mom think?
Ranger sensed my last thought. “Don’t each too much ice cream. Your mom will be disappointed if you don’t bring your appetite to dinner tonight.”
Wow! I slept forever, I feel refreshed, and now I get a home-cooked meal. Excellent!
Ranger was brave enough to join in the crazy festivities of a Plum family dinner, despite his fear of Grandma Mazur.
I, on the other hand, had a raging case of nerves. I’d turned a corner. Or, rather, my soul had turned. Joe couldn’t believe I was still planning to be a bounty hunter. Amazingly, my experience with the Slayers strengthened my belief that I was on the right path. As I told Joe, I just don’t have what it takes to stay at home and tend to a house and husband. I’ve never been the right person for that job. I was great at finding bail jumpers, and did a decent job of bringing them in. And, clearly, I could take care of myself. I’d really held my own against countless Slayers in a rage. Mom was going to take one look in my eyes, and see that I wasn’t quitting my job, and then one look at the bruises surrounding my eyes, and she’d disappear into the pantry and not come out until she’d drained her secret brandy bottle.
Ranger brought his black Mercedes to a gentle stop in front of my parents’ row house. As he started to unbuckle his seatbelt, I grabbed for his hand. “You need something, Babe?”
Yeah, I needed something. I needed take my relationship with Ranger to the next level.
“Can I call you Ric or Ricardo?” I searched his eyes for a clue to what he was thinking. “I’ll still call you Ranger on the street to keep up your image, but our relationship goes beyond the street. We haven’t been mere colleagues for a long time. When we met, you told me to call you Ranger and never gave me permission to use another name, but it just doesn’t fit anymore.” He sat impassive. I tried to find a compromise between my new suggestion and our old way of relating. “If Ric is too familiar, I could call you Manoso.” A smile crept across his face and into his eyes. “For God’s sake, say something!”
“Stephanie, I want to kiss you senseless right now, but your Mom and Grandma are watching from the porch. Call me anything you want, anywhere you want.”
I checked the clock. 6:01. Let hell break loose.
I stepped out of the car. “Stephanie Michelle Plum, you’re late!” Mom called out. “The pot roast will be dry.”
I turned my head to glare at Ric as he laughed softly. “I’m glad my life is so funny to you, Manoso. Just wait. Your day is coming.” He kept chuckling, and affectionately looped his arm through mine for the walk to the front door.
Everyone was there: Mom, Dad, Grandma, Valerie, Albert, and the three girls. It was a madhouse. Baby Lisa was wailing, Mary Alice wouldn’t stop galloping, and Grandma Mazur wanted an update on the Junkman situation so that she could be sure she was spreading the most accurate, up-to-date gossip at the beauty parlor. I could tell that Mom was just itching to tell me to go running back to Joe before my child bearing years passed me by.
Dad eyed Ric. “I hear there’s a funny story about how she got out of your building, but I haven’t heard the details. What gives?” My, wasn’t Dad being chummy.
Everyone got a kick out of the way I’d zapped Hal with his own stun gun. “Ric, he’s not in trouble, is he?” I asked. “I’m sure he’ll never let it happen again.”
“Don’t worry. His job is secure. He’s our comic relief. But I’m not happy his bumbling put you in danger, so he has to attend a class about reading body language.”
When we returned to the car, I couldn’t resist following up on the story about Hal. “I thought I was the comic relief.”
“You’re fun, Stephanie. We all like you. But you’re our sunshine. Hal’s our jester.”
“Like me? I thought some of you loved me.”
“One of us does.” And then he did kiss me senseless.
This story immediately follows “Ten Big Ones.” Because it was written with fans of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series in mind, a familiarity with the characters and their backgrounds is assumed.
If you’re unfamiliar with the series, please accept my apology for the lack of backstory.
Please note: These characters were created by Janet Evanovich. I do not own them, but I sure have fun playing with them.
Enjoy!
******
SUNSHINE
As Joe surveyed the playground, he went into cop mode and organized an investigation. Ranger escorted me to a nearby ambulance where paramedics checked me over for serious injuries and cleaned up my cuts and abrasions.
Once the scene was secure, Joe drove me to his office. I spent hours at the police station making a statement about my near-death at the hands of Junkman and his cronies, and the events that led up to it. By the time I finished telling my story, the sun was peaking over the horizon, attempting to penetrate the dome of pollution that separated Trenton from the rest of the world.
I stepped into the ladies room to check my hair. My locks were the wildest, frizziest tangle I’d ever seen. Thank God. The hair drew attention away from my bruised and bloodied face. At least, I hoped so.
I ventured into the hallway and found Joe, Ranger, and Sally waiting for me. My stomach growled. Everyone laughed and Ranger spoke up. “There’s a new place up the street that serves generous portions.”
“Sounds good to me. Someone feed me now,” I said.
“Fudgin’ A. Lets go!” Sally said. Sally and I rode with Joe. Health nut Ranger chose to walk the two blocks. As Joe pulled out of the station parking lot, I noticed Ranger fishing in his pocket.
Over breakfast, I went into my zone. Okay, I don’t usually have a zone, but I needed one just then. I had to figure out where to go after breakfast. Joe’s? Ranger’s? My parents’? Tropical vacation? Going on holiday seemed like the best option, but I couldn’t afford it.
Sally kept the conversation rolling, Joe replied now and then, Ranger patiently observed all of us, and I stared out the window. I couldn’t really see anything. The glare of the sun bounced off some windows across the street, blinding me, yet sheltering me in a bubble of solitude.
The bubble burst when a black SUV parked in front of the Red Rooster. Suddenly, I was shaded from the sunbeams and drawn out of my reverie.
Joe caught my eye and motioned for me to follow him. We stepped into the alley behind the café and he pulled me into a crushing embrace. “Ouch! Joe, you’re squishing me. Loosen up a bit.”
“Cupcake.” He addressed me with his usual term of endearment, but his typical playfulness was gone. “My beautiful Stephanie. I thought I’d never see you alive again.”
“It all worked out, Joe. I’m fine, the Junkman will never kill again, Sally’s rolling in clover, and I’ve got enough money in the bank that I can afford to take a few days to heal up before I chase any more skips.”
Joe stiffened at my words. “Are you crazy? You are, aren’t you?” It came out low and gravelly, with a fierce edge that was scarier than a yell. “If Sally had gotten there any later, you’d have been gang raped. If he hadn’t known where to go, you’d be dead. I’d be planning your funeral right now, sweetheart! This stress is killing me. Your lifestyle is killing me. And you’re already thinking about going back to that job? Why can’t you stay at home and make meatloaf?”
“Am I crazy?” I pushed out of his arms. “You’re the crazy one! I can’t cook, Joe. I’m no good at it. I can’t stay at home and tend to the house. I get cabin fever. I can’t be the woman you want me to be. Why can’t you want the woman I am? What’s so wrong with her?”
As the argument heated up, I realized that Joe’s house was no longer on the list of possible places to stay. Our remarks disintegrated into verbal equivalents of rude Italian sign language, until Joe finally said what we were both thinking. “This isn’t working. I love you, but I can’t do this.” And then he walked away.
I went back into the café and discovered that Tank had joined Ranger and Sally. “What happened to the fudgin’ cop?” Sally blurted. “Did he get scared and run away? I always knew he wasn’t man enough for you.”
Ranger studied me carefully while Tank burst into laughter.
Usually, Tank is the silent type. Usually, I see Tank during evening surveillance and distraction jobs. Apparently, Tank is a morning person. “Sally Sweet,” he howled, “you’re an alright guy. I never understood what the Bombshell saw in Morelli. He’s got a few good qualities, but he doesn’t get you, Stephanie. To deserve a fine woman, a man’s gotta be like John Travolta in ‘Phenomenon.’ He’s got to buy her chairs. Baby, that cop doesn’t even look at your chairs. He’s a step up from that idiot ex-husband of yours, but you can do better.”
Unh. I didn’t know Tank knew so much about me.
“Your stuff is in Tank’s SUV.” Ranger reached across the table and rubbed his fingertips lightly across my knuckles. “You’ll hit the wall soon and sleep for hours. Where do you want to go?”
Talk about mixed messages. Ranger has all of my stuff removed from his apartment, yet caresses my hand. Is he kicking me out, or coming on to me? “I don’t know where to go. I hate to have my parents see me banged up like this, and Valerie’s still using my apartment.”
He did that ESP thing and focused his chocolate eyes on mine. “You’re always welcome at my place. I just wanted to be ready for whatever you decided. Your choice, Babe.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about,” Tank said as he pushed away from the table. “That one’s buying your chairs. Where am I going, Bombshell? Your parents’ house, or the RangeMan building?”
I knew what Tank wanted to hear. And I wanted to say it, too. But was it the best choice? Did I belong at Batman’s side?
I tried to do the ESP thing on Ranger, but he put on his emotionless mask and I couldn’t get a read. He wears the mask to hide his thoughts. What is he hiding from me? Would it disappoint him if I went to my parents’? Maybe he doesn't want me to see how much my decision matters to him. Maybe he'll miss me if I leave.
My energy was slipping away and I didn’t want to analyze my feelings, or Ranger’s. I didn’t want to explain myself to anyone about anything. I didn’t want to tell my mom about Joe and me yet. I just wanted to sleep. One thing was certain, I wouldn’t have to say a word if I went back to Ranger’s.
“Tank,” I started, and then things went a little fuzzy. I was thinking, “Tank, I want to go to the mini Batcave,” but the words wouldn’t come out.
I awoke in a warm patch of sun pouring through the window. I stretched a bit, enjoying the smooth sheets against my skin, the comforting mattress below me, and the spicy, masculine scent of the pillow. Either Tank or Ranger had done some ESP. I was right where I wanted to be.
A familiar whirr caught my ear. I turned to see Rex running in his wheel on the bedside table. Normally, he was a night owl, but maybe he came out to play in the daylight because he missed me. Yeah, I was going with that.
My stomach roared; I smiled and wondered if the fridge would be stocked only with health food, or if Ranger had some of my kind of food on hand.
I stepped into the bathroom, took care of business, splashed some water on my face, and pulled my bird’s nest hair into a ponytail. I poked my head out of the bedroom door. “Hello? Anyone there?”
“I’m here,” Ranger replied, sounding sexy.
“Is it just you? I’m not looking so hot.”
“Doubt that. It’s just me out here.”
I felt completely different from how I did at my last conscious thought this morning. Energized, I skipped to the kitchen. “I’m starving! Is there any real food?” Ranger gave me a sly smile as he reached into the freezer and it dawned on me that he didn’t have much fun when I wasn’t around. “I can’t believe how rested I feel,” I remarked as I grabbed a carton of Karamel Sutra ice cream and a spoon from Ranger’s hand. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. 4:30. “I guess nine hours of sleep will do that for a girl.”
Ranger’s eyes slid to mine and he seemed to bite back a laugh. “Guess again.”
“Guess again at what?”
“At how long you slept.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly nine hours, but it was around that.”
“Try 34.”
“What? I slept for 34 hours? Are you serious? I slept Saturday away? It's Sunday evening?” He nodded and kept nodding through each question. Even more questions flooded my brain. How did this happen? Did Ranger also sleep in the bed during the night? Hot flash! Did people wonder if I’d been kidnapped? How come no calls came to my cell phone and woke me? Have I turned into a vampire? What does my mom think?
Ranger sensed my last thought. “Don’t each too much ice cream. Your mom will be disappointed if you don’t bring your appetite to dinner tonight.”
Wow! I slept forever, I feel refreshed, and now I get a home-cooked meal. Excellent!
Ranger was brave enough to join in the crazy festivities of a Plum family dinner, despite his fear of Grandma Mazur.
I, on the other hand, had a raging case of nerves. I’d turned a corner. Or, rather, my soul had turned. Joe couldn’t believe I was still planning to be a bounty hunter. Amazingly, my experience with the Slayers strengthened my belief that I was on the right path. As I told Joe, I just don’t have what it takes to stay at home and tend to a house and husband. I’ve never been the right person for that job. I was great at finding bail jumpers, and did a decent job of bringing them in. And, clearly, I could take care of myself. I’d really held my own against countless Slayers in a rage. Mom was going to take one look in my eyes, and see that I wasn’t quitting my job, and then one look at the bruises surrounding my eyes, and she’d disappear into the pantry and not come out until she’d drained her secret brandy bottle.
Ranger brought his black Mercedes to a gentle stop in front of my parents’ row house. As he started to unbuckle his seatbelt, I grabbed for his hand. “You need something, Babe?”
Yeah, I needed something. I needed take my relationship with Ranger to the next level.
“Can I call you Ric or Ricardo?” I searched his eyes for a clue to what he was thinking. “I’ll still call you Ranger on the street to keep up your image, but our relationship goes beyond the street. We haven’t been mere colleagues for a long time. When we met, you told me to call you Ranger and never gave me permission to use another name, but it just doesn’t fit anymore.” He sat impassive. I tried to find a compromise between my new suggestion and our old way of relating. “If Ric is too familiar, I could call you Manoso.” A smile crept across his face and into his eyes. “For God’s sake, say something!”
“Stephanie, I want to kiss you senseless right now, but your Mom and Grandma are watching from the porch. Call me anything you want, anywhere you want.”
I checked the clock. 6:01. Let hell break loose.
I stepped out of the car. “Stephanie Michelle Plum, you’re late!” Mom called out. “The pot roast will be dry.”
I turned my head to glare at Ric as he laughed softly. “I’m glad my life is so funny to you, Manoso. Just wait. Your day is coming.” He kept chuckling, and affectionately looped his arm through mine for the walk to the front door.
Everyone was there: Mom, Dad, Grandma, Valerie, Albert, and the three girls. It was a madhouse. Baby Lisa was wailing, Mary Alice wouldn’t stop galloping, and Grandma Mazur wanted an update on the Junkman situation so that she could be sure she was spreading the most accurate, up-to-date gossip at the beauty parlor. I could tell that Mom was just itching to tell me to go running back to Joe before my child bearing years passed me by.
Dad eyed Ric. “I hear there’s a funny story about how she got out of your building, but I haven’t heard the details. What gives?” My, wasn’t Dad being chummy.
Everyone got a kick out of the way I’d zapped Hal with his own stun gun. “Ric, he’s not in trouble, is he?” I asked. “I’m sure he’ll never let it happen again.”
“Don’t worry. His job is secure. He’s our comic relief. But I’m not happy his bumbling put you in danger, so he has to attend a class about reading body language.”
When we returned to the car, I couldn’t resist following up on the story about Hal. “I thought I was the comic relief.”
“You’re fun, Stephanie. We all like you. But you’re our sunshine. Hal’s our jester.”
“Like me? I thought some of you loved me.”
“One of us does.” And then he did kiss me senseless.
