MAKING MOVES

In part based on the song 'Missed' by Ella Henderson. All the familiar characters belong to JE. I'm just playing with them. This started as a one shot but it might lend itself to more. Let me know what you think.

Who would have thought I'd be here in the gym, working out and enjoying myself? Yes, this is me, Stephanie Plum, not Pod Plum, the same Stephanie whose diet used to revolve around doughnuts and meatball subs and mooching pot roast dinners with the customary left-overs from my family at six sharp on Friday nights. This is the new me, same person, different attitude, better attitude and a better life. I have made some moves in a new direction.

Over the last few months I have been building my stamina and fitness with a variety of physical challenges. Starting slowly with light routines, some of the Merry Men have been my coaches and workout buddies. It's been hard work and certainly has made me respect them all the more for their dedication and diligence in their workouts. No wonder they look so good.

Ranger was surprised yet pleased when I conceded the need for more training and requested some guidance after a particularly bad day. He and Bobby decided to activate a plan immediately. "Whoa! I need to start, soon, but not this minute." They looked at each other and I sighed while they both grinned from ear to ear. Anyone would think they had a new weapon or something. Go figure.

"Granted. Besides, you will need some workout gear and new shoes would help. Next week is fine." Ranger and I made our selections on line and it was on. Once again he gave me choices. That was a while back now and here I am looking forward to my trainer du jour.

With my hands on my knees, breathing hard after round three of the fourth set of boxing drills, I glare at my partner. That's Cal with the long legs and the longer arms, the same Cal who had me pushing harder and higher beyond my reach with upper cuts, right hooks, left hooks, jabs and all the fancy footwork and shuffling interspersed. But I did it. He chuckles at me, nodding his head in approval and offers a high five with the pads. With a smile I accept and return the gesture with my gloved hand. I can't talk just yet and I can tell he is more than satisfied that he pushed me to the limit with a PB for this week.

"I knew you could do it. Way to go, Steph," he said as he charted my results. "Remind me to watch out for that left hook. Next week we can start on some kickboxing. I know you're gonna love that."

RSRSRSRS

It's a refreshing change from the searches and investigative work from upstairs. To be told that eventually I would actually enjoy my gym time and look forward to it, I would have thought you were off your rocker. Seeing is believing. I was daunted by all the equipment and more than overwhelmed by their expertise, their sheer strength and their awesome physiques.

They encouraged me to channel my rage into physical release which has been surprisingly liberating. That was Ranger's way of helping me cleanse my mind of the negative vibes that still lingered from my Mom and Morelli, the TPD and others. Yoga and meditation was included in my weekly training schedule. Mindfulness meditation allowed me to understand and deal with stress, to centre myself and use my breathing to help with relaxation. Ranger was good at this, in more ways than one.

I'm a lucky girl I guess, but when you work out with friends it is all the more satisfying and pleasurable. We laugh a lot but there is a lot of focus, support, mentoring and encouragement, lots of encouragement. Bobby modified some of the routines to be woman-friendly and advised me to start slowly, "Small steps," he'd said. After stretches, skipping and warm ups I complete a mini circuit and then my coaches take over with their speciality. So there's lots of variety and I get to interact with these cool guys, my Merry Men, in another way. It's not all sweet and easy because they work me hard and are tough in their expectations once I have mastered the basics.

Don't get me wrong, having all this testosterone and eye candy is tough to deal with. I don't actually objectify them but it is a game we play and the playful teasing banter between us and each other is cool and certainly helps the time pass between sets.

RSRSRSRSRS

Looking back, I realise how far I have come. Yikes. What a disaster my life had been before I made the decision to make some moves for self-improvement and self-preservation. I was on an unending spiral of unwitting self-destruction, losing myself as others tried to interfere, criticise, change me and control my life.

My existence was an irregular pattern of catching skips for small amounts of money, 10% of their bond, often after long hours of hunting them down to catch said skips. I would use my computer, go to the library to check old newspapers and tap the Burg Grapevine. My Grandma Mazur was a font of knowledge of all things local. At times, I would make use of the advanced computer search engines made available to me at Rangeman. Rangeman was the security company owned by Ranger and his Merry Men who also apprehended the higher bonded skips. No way was I able to manage that level of perps with a fear factor right off the charts. Bad asses with skills and a freaky as hell range of charges and crimes had to be hunted down by equally badass Rangemen who were far more experienced and tough.

My skips ranged from local regulars to skips with minor crimes and, of course, they were FTA, failing to appear in court. Not all of them were pleased to see me and although my experience and skills were basic, I had a high degree of determination and success. It was my curiosity and tenacity that kept me on their trail. My modus operandi was unconventional and at times it took more than one go to catch my FTAs.

Having local knowledge was a big advantage. But my pursuits frequently involved food flinging, rolling in garbage, sometimes being tossed into a dumpster, chasing down alleyways littered with all kinds of filth or all the above. In the midst of all that mayhem, fire also featured in my repertoire and car bombs. As a result, my arrival at the Trenton Police Department was heralded with laughter and mockery of my appearance and the usual exchange of money as bets were won and lost. The continuing saga of my cars blowing up was another favourite betting pastime and no amount of sass and glares seemed to affect them as I waited to collect my body receipt. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

To make matters worse, Detective Joseph Morelli, who had been my so-called boyfriend, more off than on, would grab me in the parking lot and vehemently express his dislike of my job and how useless I was at it, despite bringing in my skip successfully just then. His remonstrations were always accompanied by despair at my appearance and like my mother, how much of a disappointment I was. Yada yada yada. I'd heard it all before. I even knew the script off by heart. I would roll my eyes while he ranted on waving his arms around. It used to get me down. Being put down on both fronts was getting sad and depressing.

This was really getting old. It was like being stuck on a merry-go-round, stuck in a rut, the same old same old. My mediocre life was becoming a predictable and humdrum nightmare driven by other people. There was no escape, or so it seemed.

I wasn't always a mess coming in to the TPD and their reaction was usually disappointment. Go figure. An occasional well done was welcome but rare. I was entertainment to them and it was becoming tedious. I did not sign up for chuckles.

My fridge and pantry were frequently empty with barely a basic supply of food. Keeping up with my monthly bills and rent was quite stressful but somehow I made ends meet with my meagre takings. Low bond skips were my domain but living from cheque to measly cheque was at times desperate. Since I did not inherit the cooking gene my meals were mostly take-out - pizza, Chinese and meatball subs from Pino's. Dinner at my parent's home and sometimes lunch as well, prevented me from starving during those Spartan times. My saving grace was the occasional work for Rangeman.

Friday night summonses from my harpy of a mother ensured I had a bit of variety in my diet with 'real food' as she called it. The meal was also a session of reprimands and how I disappointed her or embarrassed my family with my job. The bribe and promise of chocolate cake or pineapple upside down cake were a means of keeping me there for the duration of the meal and enduring the 'life lessons', my penitence.

On a number of occasions Morelli would be there sitting at the dinner table or some other Joe Blow from God knows where, with the promise of a free meal and permission to 'court' their daughter. Not being married and settling down like a good Burg girl making children was a bone of contention with my Mom. I've already done that drive and it was a disaster. Morelli's appearance was rarely a welcome one since it conveniently seemed to coincide with our off phase. And those other … suitors? Pfft. They were a weird and sordid selection of the dregs of the Burg's marriageable men. This was such a dreary and predictable scenario. Evidently, my life was a cesspit. And it stank!

RSRSRSRS

Lying on my bed in my favourite thinking position, I was reflecting on my life as it was in that moment in time. The pros and cons were definitely not in balance. I questioned my priorities and looking at the longer list of cons which inevitably included the constant nagging and whining of my Mom, the dinner commands, Morelli with … everything, the TPD with all their negative banter and mockery, I realised how precious the pros were and how important they were. Ranger, my friend, my mentor and sometimes lover and then the Merry Men, were my constants. They supported me. They did not criticise or humiliate me or try to change me. My Grandma was also on my side.

That was the crux of it all. Mom and Morelli were relentlessly negative with their scathing criticism and wanting me to change to suit their demands and meet Burg approval and standards. Blah de blah blah. Ranger and his men on the other hand, were the ones who gave me sincere support, encouragement and even pride in my achievements. It was unconditional. They had my back. That was unquestionably not what I got from my own mother and definitely not from Morelli. Sad but true.

Morelli. Hmph! He said he loved me but his actions didn't reflect that. He's got to go. I have had enough of his daily rants and his twisted desire to get married and have kids, Morelli kids, with him. Ew. He gets me down and hurts me with his constant mental harassment, verbal abuse and bully tactics. I have dreams, dreams of a better future, a happy future and it's time for me to take control of my life. He scoffs at my hopes and dreams as if it is a foregone conclusion that as a good Burg wife, my dreams do not matter. Well, I got news for him.

To think that somehow I allowed this to happen. Did I? When did that start? He abused me in the garage as a curious six year old. He abused me publicly by writing all over the walls with his conquest when he raped me at sixteen years old by charming the pants of me behind the éclair case at closing time of the Tasty Pastry. My mother had always warned me to stay away from those Morelli boys. So I was grounded for that entire summer. I was the victim yet she punished me? I was confused and made to feel so ashamed. The bitter hurt of that summer still lingers painfully. What kind of mother does that? And nowadays he's welcomed to the family dinner table! Double standards? What a hypocrite. How did that happen?

I sat bolt upright. How did that change? I have been allowing them to make decisions for me, forcing their whims and allowing them to control me. Well, I have had enough of that bullshit. It has to end and only I can do that. No more dinners served with acrimony and acerbic criticisms and a huge helping of guilt. I will not feel obliged to go for Friday dinners. So I don't get pineapple upside down cake anymore? Pfft. I pull up my big girl panties. I need to take action. Forget the bribe of the cake, she can stuff it! No more guilt either. It oozes sickeningly through the phone and I can feel the barbs trying to snare me. I am resolute. I have made my decision and it felt good.

RSRSRSRSRS

After a few narrow escapes with a couple of reluctant, really belligerent skips in my chosen job as a bounty hunter, who decided that attack was their best form of defence, I realised I had to be more proactive in my fitness routine. Okay, I admit, there was no fitness let alone a routine. The routine only involved the mandatory Boston crème and a coffee, but exercise? Pfft. I resisted exercise at all costs.

Reality bites. I knew I was way over my depth with this asshole, so I bit the bullet and called Rangeman. Within minutes a shiny black SUV arrived with the cavalry and assisted me with the capture. Recognising that this skip was beyond my experience was a wise decision. Bobby was particularly concerned with my cuts and bruises and a blossoming shiner. While Lester and Hal cautioned the skip with a few healthy, firm reminders of the physical kind before cuffing him, he dressed my wounds. Ranger appeared and scowled at the files Vinnie had assigned to me. He was furious but his eyes softened when he looked at me.

"Are you alright, Babe?" It meant more than just was I feeling okay. His eyes scanned my injuries and he was not happy. My eyes glistened but I blinked them quickly and took a deep breath, inhaling the fortifying scent of Bulgari that was Ranger. I nodded.

"Yep. Am now."

He looked at the skip, the size of him and his newly acquired cautionary reminders.

He asked me, "Do you want to take him in or are you okay with Lester and Hal taking him in?"

See, that is the difference. Ranger gives me options, choices that are reasonable and considered. He asks me, not tells me … he asks. I think about it and decide.

His thumb gently rubs along my bottom lip and the swelling on one side and his lips whisper across mine as warm tingles flutter over my skin. His eyes are smiling with the little hint of crinkles in the corners.

"Proud of you, Babe. Have dinner with me tonight?"

I nod and smile.

"On seven?" He pauses, "Or would you like to go out for dinner, somewhere quiet?"

Without hesitation I reply simply, "Seven. At seven?"

One hundred watts gleam at me and he kisses me chastely and nods.

"Go get 'em, Tiger." He nods to Hal and Lester.

As I walked into the TPD with my skip, Hal and Lester waited outside. A hush followed me as I approached Robin at the booking desk. Her eyes widened taking in my injuries and then the skip and his physical condition waiting quietly, submissive and contrite. She quietly handed me the body receipt and my skip was escorted not so gently away. Ask no questions, give no answers.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot the exchange of money. I stride over and hold my hand out, signalling firmly to hand it over when they questioned my unexpected response. I glared at them impatiently, tapping my foot.

"As the saying goes, the buck stops here. I have had enough. This wad of cash is going to charity as of now. Robin, can you do the honours, please? I think the Women's Refuge is appropriate." She beams at me and nods.

"This is how it goes. You will no longer bet on my deeds, my appearance, my cars or my life. That you don't give a shit how badly injured I might be surprises me. And, to think I thought some of you were my friends. Well, obviously I was greatly mistaken." Looks of regret, shame and guilt appeared on their faces, especially the older ones who knew me. Some couldn't even face me. The newbies had no idea and just shrugged their shoulders.

Holding my head high I walk out only to run into Morelli near the docking ramp. He takes in my condition. I brace myself. Oh boy. Here goes.

"Hey, Steph. Had a bit of a rumble? It's been a while." He tries to peek down my t-shirt but I pull away. "The 'Boys' miss you, Bob too. How about we get together and –"

"No." I try to head on out but he blocks my path. I stop and stare blankly at him.

"Oh, c'mon, Steph. You know we are good together. Look at you. You should quit this stupid idea that you are good at bounty hunting. You can do better. You need to quit this job because you're hopeless at it. You could shack up with me and, you know, we can get married and have kids. You can leave that shitty apartment you call home. I have a house and you know …" He raised his eye brows and waggled them knowingly.

I stare at him steadfastly and fold my arms balancing my weight more on my right leg. He looks a little unsure so I smile. His expression changes to that lopsided panty-loosening grin of his. Smooth, Morelli. Not.

"You know. You're right."

"See? That wasn't so hard. You missed me, admit it."

"You think you were missed? Well let me tell you this. The love I had for you has flown. A long time ago. We are over, Joe. We were over already, already. It's just you, on your own. No turning back. I'm done with that. I am no longer going to let you get me down, or hurt me or control me. You brought that all on yourself."

To say he was surprised by my words was an understatement. He started to fume but I cut him short.

"Oh no. I'm not finished yet. Did you ever think to ask how I was? Like now? I am drawing the line here. You see, the only right thing you said was, 'I can do better'. You nailed that Joe. The rest is old, the same old dance we have done for too long. And I am done with you. I wish you well, Joe, but don't count on me. I am moving on and I don't see you in my future at all anymore."

Before he can respond as he takes all that in, I calmly walk away. I felt lighter, free for the first time in ages. That was easy and I feel uplifted and proud of myself.

My thoughts were broken by his angry taunts but I just ignored him and left him to it. Pfft. I knew those nasty scornful words well. I switched off because it wasn't worth the time or effort to take them in. I smiled at Lester's huge grin and walked to where I had parked my car.

"Hal?"

He nods and as my neck tingles my unasked questions are answered. Ranger is leaning against his Porsche, arms folded across his manly chest and those long legs casually crossed over. My God that man is so sexy.

I am rewarded by a 200 watt smile and Lester's coughing fit and laughter. Oh. Ranger nods. I glance at Lester trying to recover but smiling broadly.

Breaking the good vibes, my cell phone rings with the tone that warns me it's my Mom. I look at it thinking about dismissing the call. I look Ranger in the eye and feel strong as I hit the button and listen.

"Hi Mom."

Of course, she cuts me off. I can't imagine what embarrassment I could possibly have caused her this time. I'm really only half listening as she raves on with the usual put downs and "why me's," while Ranger watched me intently. I liked what I saw and so did he.

"Hmm? Sorry. I missed that … No, I wasn't listening fully, Mom." More whining and raving. I rolled my eyes.

I interrupt her rant firmly and assertively.

"Mom. Gotta go … No. Don't expect me for dinner … I don't want the cake. That's not gonna work with me anymore … Not next week either ... Forget it, Mom. I have a date … Yes a date, a date with destiny." I hung up watching Ranger's eyes darkening tossing my cell in to my bag.

God that felt good. Go me! I walked closer and stood in front of him and smiled, breathing him in again, the power of Bulgari.

"Do I have to fight someone called Destiny?"

"Nope." I can do the one word thing too.

"Babe?"

"Ranger?"

He grinned his wolf grin. Uh, oh. Pulling the tiger's tail could be dangerous. I think I could learn to like living dangerously. He grabbed my hips and gently pulled me towards him. His hands ghosted up my arms to both sides of my face. He brought me close within kissing range.

"So …"

"So."

"Feeling bold, Babe?"

"Take me away from here, Batman."

"As you wish."