I forgot this! Standard fanfic disclaimers apply for this and all chapters/ stories here.


A Random Life

.

a/n: May 2012. I have a long fic almost finished and will be posting it soon. For now you all can read my non-mainstream fics on my blog, link in my profile, &/ OR enjoy this collection of one-shots that feature, as is SO often requested, Ranger and Stephanie, together. I think Ranger is always my Mercenary Ranger...and Stephanie is, of course, Stephanie! (No particular timeline order, but I will try to tell you where they belong in my timeline, if they do...).

Enjoy.


a/n "clear coat" is what the car mftrers call the clear lacquer that they seal the paint with, on new cars: "Clear coat finishes (also referred to as two-stage paint systems) are simply a layer of clear resin applied over the top of colored resin."

*this takes place before Take a Chance


One: Strawberry Clear Coat

[Stephanie]

It is just too nice a day for this shit, I thought vaguely. We should be in Point Pleasant at the beach not chasing some felon through the congested urban streets of Trenton, New Jersey.

"I see him!" yelled Lula. She pounded off ahead of me. We were on auto dealer row off Hamilton Avenue, an area with busy near-ghetto side streets and a main drag with row after row of shiny new vehicle lots, pennants waving in the June breeze. Honda. Subaru, Toyota, Kia, Jeep...You notice none of Ranger's megabucks imports though, right? This is where the blue-collar Burg gets its Buicks and Camrys.

"This way!" Lula pointed to King Ballster's! VIP FREE OIL Change for LIFE ONLY $$$ 49.99 $$$ ! —the big Chevy dealership on the corner. I saw our skip, Alan Moskowitz, weave through the new cars and duck into the open service bay. Moskowitz was a former telephone company helpline employee who finally slipped a few cogs in his murky little brain and turned to crime. He was arrested for stealing and maintaining fifteen different identities, using them to buy crap on eBay that he then sold at the flea market in Englishtown.

No one adequately explained to him that the way it works is the reverse: buy at the fleas, sell on eBay. Geez.

But where he really went wrong? Moskowitz started believing in his various identities. So he had a string of wives and girlfriends from here to Jersey City.

One of the "wives" checked up on him, caught onto his scams, and blew the whistle. Then she bonded him out with the reward money, go figure.

I followed Lula into the dimly lit concrete auto service building. She stopped short and I plowed into her.

"What the...?"

"Ooooh," cooed my partner. "Look at that!"

A red Corvette was being detailed front and center. The iridescent ruby red paint shimmered and glowed. I looked at the Vette then back at Lula's awestruck face.

"That there car is the color of strawberries," sighed Lula.

"What? It's just a Corvette."

"Me and Tank looooove strawberries! And I could use a new car, my baby Firebird is gettin' old."

"If we don't catch Moskowitz you won't be able to afford an '87 Toyota Corolla let alone a Corvette. Let's look..."

"Hey! Girlie! What are you doing in here?" An irate man strode out of the glassed-in office to our left. The balding guy wearing a too-small Chevrolet golf shirt hustled up to Lula. He told her, "You're not supposed to be in here."

Lula put a hand on a voluptuous hip and glared. "I was on the way to the bathroom. What's your excuse?"

"Lady..."

"Lula!" I interrupted, "There he is!" Moskowitz darted out from behind the tool trolley, hoping to slip by while Lula argued with the manager guy.

I was closer to the doors though and a little faster. I scampered sideways, threw my arms open and yelled, "Alan Moskowitz, you are in violation of your bond. I am a licensed bond enforcement agent. Please stop and ..."

And what? "Uh,...allow me to handcuff you!"

Ranger said from behind me, "No need to give them details, babe."

Where did he come from?

"I was across the street, had to order new Explorers. I saw you run by."

Moskowitz wasn't about to allow us to cuff him. Instead he backed up under the hydraulic lift and waved a small handgun at us.

"You won't take me alive!"

"Calm down," I told him. "It's just identity theft. Don't get crazy."

"I'll shoot!"

"And, well, bigamy..." I just had to add.

"Babe. TMI."

"I'll shoot for sure!" yelled Moskowitz.

The little gun wavered between me and Lula. All the yelling had attracted the attention of the car mechanics and they were converging on the scene clutching wrenches and oily rags.

I told my skip, "Bigamy can be bargained down."

Lula chimed in, "Really, it's no biggie."

"I'll shoot myself first! My wives! Just, just, stay back!"

The mechanics all took a step forward.

"This has clusterfuck written all over it," growled Ranger. "And I can tell you're not wearing a vest." He shoved me behind him.

"Hey!" I yelled at him. He's bigger than me but he wasn't wearing a vest either. I tried to scramble in front of Ranger.

The movement caught Moskowitz's eye and he took one good look at Ranger, fired a wild shot into the ceiling, then ducked behind the red Vette.

"Learn how to shoot, you piece of shit!" yelled Lula. She hauled out her .357 magnum and fired away.

Everyone else ran for cover. Ranger shoved me down, underneath him for protection. I took a second to savor the moment.

(sigh).

He felt—wonderful. And smelled so nice...clean cotton, a little sweat, and his Bulgari. He was so big and so hard, and I felt so safe and so, uh, well...

(sigh).

"Babe."

Meanwhile: Boom! Glass shattered. Bam, fiberglass exploded. Then the Corvette's antitheft alarm went off.

Moskowitz scrambled out from under the Vette and again tried to run out the other side.

I love watching Ranger. He rolled to his feet from his spot next to me on the dirty floor, and a second later he had Moskowitz by the scruff of the neck. Moskowitz's little feet kept running for a few beats, just like Roadrunner in the cartoons. Ranger gave him a shake, dropped him to his feet and cuffed him.

"All yours, babe."

"Mmmmm..." Okay, yes! I moaned, sue me.

"Your skip." He shoved Moskowitz towards me a few steps.

"Oooh! My car! I wanted that car! I loved that car!" Lula was wailing.

We turned to look. Ranger examined the shattered remains of the Vette. "You killed that car, Lula."

"Oooh." She burst into tears.

Ranger looked at me. "What? it was only a Corvette."

the end, but mtc [more to come]