Discalimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Note: Another bit of weirdness. No clue from whence it came.
Pairing: None, Babish leanings
Rating: Suitable for all ages
Feedback: Send comments to: ttsmiscellany@yahoo.com

Family Secret
By TT

A hand flew out from under the mass of covers and slammed against the poor, unsuspecting alarm clock, silencing the machine’s horrid yowl.

With the offending noise silenced, the hand retraced back into the pile of covers.

Just as it disappeared into the warm morass, another, louder alarm sounded all the way across the room.

A muffled shriek of displeasure sounded from under the pile of blankets on the bed.

Moments later, the covers were thrown off the huddled form and landed on the floor. The woman who had been sleeping underneath them launched herself across the room, desperate to silence the offending device.

A second after her hand smashed down on the “off” button, Stephanie let out a sigh of relief.

The adrenaline in her system had gotten her across the room and out of bed, but, it didn’t stop her eyes from drifting toward her recently abandoned bed. A sigh escaped her as she remembered why she had been so careful to set not one, but two different alarms this morning.

Remembering did little to make getting up more enjoyable, but at least it would keep her from being late.

Of course, getting up this morning would have been easier if she hadn’t spent the evening in some delectably male company. Doing distractions with Ranger was becoming more of a ritual for them. But she wasn’t about to complain about spending time with him or sharing a meal before having to throw herself at some scum or another.

She allowed her mind to roam back over the previous night and the evening she spent with Ranger as she moved toward the bathroom to take a shower.

A smile curved her lips as she turned on the water and thought of the previous night.

With Joe in Washington, having taken a job with the FBI, she had been alone for three months now. A part of her knew it was foolish to “play with fire”, as Ranger put it, but the longer she was alone the lower her defenses fell and the more likely it was that she would soon enact one of the many plans she had devised for seducing Ranger.

Her smile faded and a heavy sigh escaped her. The one flaw with her plan was that, despite the satisfaction her body would receive from being with Ranger, she knew her heart would be broken when he left the next morning. If her heart weren’t engaged, if they were ‘just friends’ as she claimed, then maybe she could survive another night with him. As it was, she knew her fear of losing her heart was justified. She loved Ranger as she had no other.

She let out another sigh and stepped under the spray of the shower, hoping to wash away such thoughts and help her focus on the upcoming visit.

Her Aunt Ivy had always been Stephanie’s favorite aunt. Not only did Aunt Ivy seem to accept her as she was, Stephanie looked more like her aunt than anyone else in her family. Her mother and grandmother, even Valerie to some extent, were far shorter and more sturdily built.

Stephanie had always been taller than the other women in her family and a bit on the thin side. It was true she got her coloring from the Mazur side, but physically, she looked like her father’s sister – her shape, height and even facial features.

As she dipped her head under the spray, Stephanie’s tired mind seemed to get stuck on that last thought. She had noticed over the past few weeks that her face seemed to be looking a little less round, thinner and that her cheeks seemed more pronounced. She had chalked it up to missing a few meals because skips had been sparse at the office.

Shaking her head slightly to dislodge the thought, Stephanie grabbed her shampoo and squeezed out the appropriate amount. After returning the bottle to the shelf she had hung in the shower stall, she began scrubbing her hair.

A shiver coursed through her as she brushed against her ear.

Her suds-filled hands froze as her eyes grew wide.

Slowly, she extracted one hand from her curls and reached down to trace the shell of her ear – of her pointed ear.

Stephanie gasped and quickly rinsed the shampoo out of her hair.

Once she was satisfied the soap was gone, she ripped open the shower curtain and stepped away from the tub.

Reaching up, she wiped the steam from the mirror, turned her head slightly and froze.

Her eyes grew wide in disbelief and her jaw opened slightly. A small squeak escaped, but no other sound.

Turning her head, she checked the other side only to find the same thing.

Somehow, between last night and this morning, her ears had grown points! If she didn’t know better, she would swear they looked like the elf ears used in “Lord Of the Rings”.

Slowly, with a trembling hand, she reached up and tugged her ear. It wasn’t make-up. It was her actual ear.

A knock on the door sounded a second before it opened, causing Stephanie to yelp and grab for a towel.

“Stephanie, dear,” her Aunt Ivy began. She stopped, took in the sight before her and sighed. “Oh, dear,” she continued. “I had hoped that I had more time. It looks like you’ve already begun the change, though. You’ve started much earlier than any of us would have expected. Normally this doesn’t happen until the forties or fifties. I suppose, though, it’s down to your human blood.” Heaving a sigh, she smiled at her niece. “You go ahead and finish your shower, Stephanie,” she advised. “We’ll talk about what’s going on when you’re finished. It’s time you found out about your elf heritage and what to expect.” Seeing the stunned look on Stephanie’s face, she rolled her eyes and said, “You didn’t think all your troubles with technology were bad karma or something did you?” Letting out a huff, she mumbled, “Expecting magic and technology to mix. Honestly, what is the world coming to?”

With that said, Aunt Ivy turned and left the bathroom closing the door behind her as she continued to mumble about technology, magic and irresponsible fathers who tell their daughters nothing of their heritage.

Stephanie stood stunned. “Elf?” she whispered, trying to understand the few bits of information she’d just received.

She briefly wondered if this was all a dream. Reaching out, she pinched her leg. “Ow!” she exclaimed. “Not dreaming,” she decided.

After another moment of staring at the door blinking, her mind finally kicked into gear and she headed back to her shower. Aunt Ivy had said they would talk after she was done. That meant she had to finish her shower.

As she reached for her bath poof and filled it with shower gel, one word kept running through her mind – Elf.

End

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