Until recently this has been on Yahoo Groups and not published on this site, and incomplete. I've worked on it since 2006, on and off. In recent years, mostly off until now (2011) . However I do have it carefully planned out until the end and will finish. Maybe someday I'll even write some more stories. I had writer's block for a few years until I realized I couldn't write any story about Stephanie facing her fears until I had faced down my own. And that I am finally doing now. I hope by the time I finish it will be a masterpiece and a fan favorite, because it has meant so much to me. Please let me know what you think because I am a review slut.

This has been very therapeutic for me because it came right after I lost my baby girl before birth, and I was questioning many things in my life. I work in the fields of crisis intervention & law enforcement, and all that being the case…my writing is more intense and dramatic than a regular Evanovich novel and doesn't gloss over some of the more painful experiences in life. So if you are easily offended or shy away from any graphic sexual content, graphic violence, or character death then I suggest not reading my work at all. You can expect this story to take an unusual turn for the character transition to occur in the middle, so it will get grittier then. I've tried to create a balance and stay true to the Plum series, though I have taken a few liberties with the Merry Men like most authors to develop them more as characters. Otherwise I stick with the series and there are no changes in tense or POV, and the characters retain their original personalities and don't change into overly dramatized or vilified versions of themselves. I treat Joe with the attention & respect his character deserves, but mine will always be R/S stories at heart with my own HEA that won't be over the top. As always, these characters and consequential details are all the creation of a Ms. Janet Evanovich, and I am only borrowing them for my own enjoyment and not for profit. Everything up to Chapter 23 was written before the release of Twelve Sharp, so I decided to leave everything mostly as is post-EOT and so Stephanie has never met Julie, and so I had already written my own meeting with my own version of Ranger's daughter. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Eucatastrophe: The good catastrophe. The sudden joyous turn, not an ending, but the moment we get a glimpse of joy. A moment that passes outside the frame rends indeed the very web of story and lets a gleam come through, a gleam of revelation from outside the narrative.

-JRR Tolkein

CHAPTER 1

Ahhhh…springtime in Trenton. Birds chirping, flowers blooming, and sun shining. I was totally in the zone as I grooved to the all 80's hour on the radio and waited for the light to turn. I cheerfully rolled down the windows of Big Blue and took a deep lung full of the crisp early morning air. Something suddenly caught in the back of my throat and I coughed and my eyes started to water. I coughed even harder as I tried to roll the window back up, and heard people honk at me from behind as the light turned green. Can't they see I'm struggling desperately not to honk up lung cookies here? I managed to press on the gas and start the car moving forward again, and prayed that I didn't run over a little old lady since my eyes were so bleary I could barely see. As I continued hacking a golden beacon appeared before me to guide my way. Okay, so it wasn't actually a beacon. More like two arches, but hey, who's complaining? I pulled into the parking lot of the McDonald's and double-parked the blue behemoth, then popped open my thermos to quickly gulp down some coffee and get a hold of myself.

OUCH!

How was I supposed to know the shiny steel and plastic contraption had some kind of molten lava core that actually made your coffee hotter than it was when you brewed it 20 minutes ago? The thermos had fallen to the floorboard when I sat bolt upright in my seat, and I grimaced as my tongue went numb and the coughing slowed to a sputter. Well, I guess that the gadget kept things hot should make me happy. That and the fact that I wasn't screaming in agonizing pain from superheated coffee all over my lap and feet. I had been assured it was brand new and top of the line, with special "Stay-Steaming" spill proof technology, but I had had my doubts.

I was mostly skeptical because it was an early birthday gift from Mooner and Dougie when I had dropped by yesterday to remind Mooner not to miss his latest court date. Dougie had also assured me that it happened to "fall" off a truck while he was strolling along minding his own business. Yeah, right. Despite their windfall from the Ramos deal, keeping a small side 'business' going seemed to help give them a purpose in life.

He'd initially tried to sell it to me for $10, but I weaseled out of it by telling them I was saving all my money for my birthday vacation in a week. Mooner replied "Whoah!" and suddenly disappeared from view. He reappeared at the doorway a few minutes later with a shoelace tied in a very funky bow around the thermos, and he and Dougie sang a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday….Dudette." What great guys huh?

Not even my swelling tongue tingling with the pokes of a hundred tiny pins could quell my excitement about leaving for a well-deserved vacation on Sunday. Not even that it was only Monday morning and it was early enough that I would normally be drooling into my pillow for another hour. Not even that Sunday also happened to be my 31st birthday, and my life for all intents and purposes didn't appear to be headed anywhere.

My life had been orbiting less and less around planet Morelli. I'd recently decided that we could win the world ballroom championships in the great dance of avoidance. Avoiding each other was made slightly easier because he switched divisions from the Vice Squad to Crimes Against Persons section, and a huge caseload of assaults, kidnappings, and homicides were demanding of his time. Our future together, or not together, was the proverbial elephant sitting in the living room that kept growing larger while our conversations kept growing shorter. I had moved back into my apartment after Ranger's instruction to "go back to Morelli" had been better in theory than in practice. If Joe really loved me as much as Ranger and my mother and everyone else seemed to think, then why couldn't we make it work? I cared deeply for Joe, and I really did want things to work out with us. But I just couldn't figure out why whenever things started to get serious between us, our relationship had a way of blowing up faster than my latest vehicle acquisition.

As for Ranger, we were back to normal. That is if by normal you mean the occasional conversation of two word sentences on his part, followed by shameless flirting on my part, followed sheer terror when he always calls my bluff. Whenever we were in the same room I still felt like a current of electricity was running through me, but I was afraid of standing too close in case I might get electrocuted. I was pretty sure he had made my underwear burst in flames at least once anyway. It was for that very reason that I'd gone back to fieldwork for Vinnie and left Rangeman. Don't get me wrong…working for Ranger had it's definite advantages. But working closely with someone and being close to someone were two different matters, and I found that I couldn't do one without wanting the other.

Ranger and I had one amazing night together when Joe and I were broken up, but only the one night. There were so many things I didn't understand about what it all meant and how to interpret his comments and prompt disappearance afterwards, that most of the time I simply tried to push the memory of it out of my mind because it left me feeling more confused than ever. Well a little confused and really hot and bothered. I never forgot his words about being an "opportunist" about returning to my bed if Joe was not in it, but so far he hadn't made any big moves during my latest "off" phase with Morelli.

But this morning the men in my life took a backseat to my job as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter of Trenton. I was a woman on a mission. I had been working non-stop for the past few weeks bringing in as many skips as I could to pad my bank account with some Mai Tai and margarita money. The constant work also made the avoidance dance easier, as I could sidestep dealing with Joe like Ginger Rogers in four inch FMP's. This morning I had two new folders in the passenger seat that I had grabbed from Connie late yesterday after collecting a $400 check on my latest skip. I hadn't had a chance to read about today's targets last night since I had to make an emergency trip to Macy's to find the perfect bathing suit. I was going to need it for all that deep thinking I planned to do on the beach while getting massaged with hot oil by a well muscled cabana boy with dark hair and….

My cell phone ringing snapped me out of my reverie and I snapped it open to hear Lula on the other end yelling at Vinnie. I was able to make out the words "shove" and "lily-white" and "duck," but I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the rest.

"Whassup girl!" Lula said.

"I think I just swallowed a bug." I croaked.

"Honey you need to get your protein in the mornin' from greasy strips of bacon and a slab of ham. The only wings and legs you oughta be eatin' are deep fried come in a yellow bucket." she declared.

"Well it seemed to go well with the scalding hot coffee" I said. "I'm actually at the McDonalds now and bacon is sounding like a good idea, you want anything?"

"Actually, that's why I called. Vinnie wanted me to tell you to bring us donuts" she explained.

"What?"

"Yeah he said he wanted those powdered kind with the lemon custard in the center and…." she said before I heard the phone being wrenched out of her hand , then Vinnie's voice took over the line.

"Stephanie!" he barked.

"Yeah it's me, would you like fries with that?" I grumbled.

"I don't want donuts!" he growled. "I want you to go to the Tasty Pastry. I just got a tip off that the skip Jason Jameson that Connie gave you yesterday just started working there a few days ago. He should be on shift right now."

A man after my own heart, I thought. How bad could the guy be if he was willing to work at a job that involved getting up early to bake at 6am just so he could eat a few of his "mistakes" every now and then? "No problem" I replied. "I'll go grab him and a dozen glazed while I'm at it."

"Whatever, just get it done. I got a pile of FTA's here that need to be brought in before I'm letting you go on vacation" he complained.

"I'm going on vacation on Sunday no matter what Vinnie!" I said one decibel short of full rhino mode. "I've brought in almost double my normal number for a month now so don't give me any lip about it!" I yelled.

"Jeez, calm down! You got PMS this morning or something?" he replied.

I snarled at him and he quickly hung up, but not before I heard Connie yell out "Two chocolate ones with sprinkles!"

The nerve! Serves him right, how dare he try to come between me and cabana boy! I'm not about to let his snarkiness and my tongue feeling like sandpaper put me in a bad mood, I told myself. In less than one week I'm going to be sunning myself in my brand new silver string bikini on the beach. I closed my eyes and imagined the sun soaking into my skin and the sand between my toes, and just the thought of it made my whole body relax. Ahhhhh…that's more like it. I turned up the 80's music on the radio and the Bangles "Manic Monday" came on the radio. Perfect!

I cranked up the volume, fired up Big Blue, then pulled back out onto the street. I cruised down the road singing along "Wish it was Sundaaay…" As I stopped at a light I started getting really into it. After all, I was a birthday girl about to take my first real vacation since…well…ever! There was no one else at the light, so I belted out "cause that's my fun daaay…." and started gyrating my torso and running my fingers through my hair and head banging with enthusiasm. Who needs Joe or Ranger, I thought. I may be a Jersey girl a few days shy of 31, but I'm not so old that I can't have fun without them. And just then, I felt it.

My hands were tangled in my hair with my chest jutted out and my head mid-bang, and I slowly turned to see a large Dodge Ram pickup to my left. It was black. The windows were tinted. And one window rolled down to reveal a Cuban sex god in the driver's seat whose sensuous lips clearly mouthed the word "Babe" as the corners turned up into a slow grin. I turned three shades of crimson as the light turned green, and the truck was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Oh. My. God. Okay, calm yourself down Stephanie. It could have been worse. You could have been playing air guitar. Or picking your nose. I turned the radio down, slunk down in my seat, fixed my hands on the wheel, and started driving 10 mph under the speed limit on the way to Tasty Pastry to be sure I didn't meet him again at the next light. I figured pretending that did not just happen was the best option. Denial is a good thing. Just think instead about margaritas and massage oil and muscles and Miami and Mary Lou. Ahhhhhh….that's more like it.

As I thought about Mary Lou I started to feel a little bad that I was looking so forward to our vacation to Miami together, when it really wasn't the most pleasant of circumstances for my best friend. I was sure that while we were there we would wind up having a good time. But I also knew it would be bittersweet since part of the reason I was going was to help her clean out the beach house that had belonged to her grandmother and recently been willed to her.

Granny Lou had passed away a few weeks ago. Mary Lou was surprised to find out that while her Granny had a fair amount of savings and assets that were willed evenly amongst her children and grandchildren, she had left her beach bungalow to Mary Lou alone. When we were kids, I remember Granny Lou sitting us both up on the kitchen countertop while she would teach us to bake cookies. That blessed blue haired woman was the first one to introduce me to the joys of raw cookie dough. While the cooking lessons didn't stick, the affinity for raw cookie dough did.

When Granny Lou's husband died five years ago, she decided move to a retirement community in Miami, claiming that the cold weather made her joints ache. I suspected that it may have had more to do with being surrounded by the memories of fifty years of marriage. I imagine it makes it the difficult task of finding a way to move on with your life that much harder. Since Mary Lou's mother wasn't feeling up to making the trip to go through all Granny's belongings, Mary Lou had been trusted with the task and asked me to come along for the help and support. I would have gone anyway of course to help her out, even without the sun and sand to tempt me.

I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't wondered what it would be like to see Ranger's hometown. Maybe I could figure out what elementary school he went to and look up little Ranger in the yearbook in their library. I chuckled at the thought of a tiny version of Ranger with an overstuffed book bag full of Crayolas and Elmer's glue. I wondered if he ever got picked last for kickball. Who am I kidding…he was probably team captain even then. I bet he wore black when his Mom brought him home from the hospital after he was born. It suddenly struck me just how little I knew about Ranger. I had no idea exactly where and how long he had lived in Miami, what his family and childhood were like, how he came to Trenton, and about 90% of the time I had no idea what he was thinking. The other 10% I was pretty sure he was either mentally undressing me or thinking about work. Well at least I knew what his favorite color was, right?