Disclaimer: Stephanie Plum and Ranger Manoso belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Challenge: 100_prompts table 100-B -- 13. Freak Out
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Characters: Stephanie, Ranger
Note: The Words "Freak Out" do not appear in this fic, but one of the characters definitely freaks out, so I figured it qualified.

Not Quite A Distraction
by TT

7:00am

He was standing in the doorway. I knew it as surely as I knew I had another hour before my alarm went off.

“What do you need, Ranger,” I mumbled as I buried my head under my pillow. I didn't receive an answer, but something in the air changed nearby so I wasn't surprised when the bed sank and the pillow suddenly disappeared.

“Babe,” he said.

I could hear the smile. I was amusing him and I wasn't even fully awake. I'm so talented.

Unable to stop the put-upon sigh that escaped, I cracked an eye open and looked at him. He looked good, as always. Suddenly, all my hormones came to attention. At least part of me was awake.

“Can I see both eyes, Babe?” he asked, still amused.

I offered an indistinct grunt in response as I forced myself up into a sitting position. Leaning against the headboard, I rubbed my eyes and looked at him. “Yes?” I asked, not even trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

A mug of coffee appeared in front of me. I didn't question it, I just took it and breathed in the scent of the glorious nectar before drinking deeply. The satisfied humm I released as the caffeine washed through my system earned me a somewhat pained, “Babe.”

Opening my eyes, I was more awake and alert. “Morning, Ranger,” I greeted civilly, I just couldn't do cheerful in the mornings; civil was as good as it got. “What brings you by today?”

“Have a job for you tonight.”

“Distraction?”

He hesitated. “Not exactly.”

My eyebrows shot up. This suddenly sounded like something I needed to be fully awake for. Setting the coffee mug on the night stand, I said, “Maybe we should discuss this in the kitchen.”

Ranger just smiled and nodded.

“You could leave for there now,” I prompted after a few minutes.

His smile turned a little wolfish and I felt parts of my body begin to heat.

“Rather take in the view in here,” he replied.

I am so not ready for Ranger flirting this early when I'm in my bed and only wearing a skimpy tank top and panties. Narrowing my eyes, I pointed and commanded, “Out!”

He chuckled and left.

Letting out a sigh, I threw off my covers and scrounged around for some shorts and a t-shirt. Slipping them on, I grabbed my coffee and made a quick stop by the bathroom where I splashed water on my face.

Satisfied that I was as awake as I was going to get, I walked into my kitchen and settled at the table, turning to face Ranger. “What do you mean 'not exactly'?” I demanded.

Before answering me, he turned a manilla folder toward me. I flipped it open and looked at the person inside. Big, mean and ugly was the description that popped into my mind. “O. K.,” I said, reading all about Erik Brown. “You don't want me to distract him?”

“Yes and no,” Ranger replied.

I waited for him to clarify. Eventually, he did.

“Erik isn't the type of person who goes to bars to pick up someone. He goes to bars to pick on someone,” he explained.

“He's a bully,” I clarified. Ranger nodded. “So, what do you want me to do?”

He looked me in the eyes and I could tell he was struggling with this. “I need you to be his victim for the night.”

“Uhhh.” Yes, I was brilliant with my comeback.

“He doesn't actually get violent with his victims,” Ranger specified.

“Uh huh.”

“He usually picks on someone who's already looking a bit down. Normally it's a little distracting to people around him. I need you to make it distracting to the whole bar.”

“You want me to make a huge spectacle?” I asked, not sure if I should be flattered or insulted that he thought I was the person for the job.

Ranger must have seen the anger in my eyes. He ran his hands through his hair and explained, “He likes to pick on people smaller and weaker than himself, just like any other bully. I don't have anyone else who fits that description.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands over my face. Of course I was going to agree to do this for him; I never turned him down.”What time to I need to be there and how should I dress?” I inquired on a sigh.

When I didn't get an immediate response, I looked up and met his eyes. They were sparkling and warm. He reached out and stroked my cheek. “Thanks, Babe,” he said, a soft smile on his face. Naturally I returned it. “I'll pick you up a 9. Wear something demure.”

With that said, he leaned forward, kissed me and disappeared out the door of my apartment.

“Demure,” I mused. I just might need to go shopping; that or raid Valerie's closet.

8:58pm

I took one last look in the mirror and nodded.

Demure wasn't a normal look for me, but I think I managed to pull it off.

I was wearing a straight skirt that hit just below my knee, shoes with a comfortable two-inch heel, a light blue twin-set, faux pearls and a pair of, well, nerdy glasses with clear glass in them. My hair was pulled up into a bun. OK, so I'd used the librarian in “Ghostbusters” as my starting template, but I still think I qualified.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I was unsurprised to hear the locks tumbling on my front door. I managed to grab my small clutch just as Ranger opened the door.

Now, Ranger is always breathtaking. It's considered normal for women to stop cold or walk into walls when they see him.

I don't have that effect on men.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, usually when I'm dressed in a distraction outfit, I can cause Ranger to stop in his tracks. I love watching his eyes go molten as he takes in my look.

Tonight I managed to have Ranger stop in his tracks, but his eyes were not molten. If I had to describe the look in his eyes tonight, well, stunned comes to mind.

“Babe?” he asked, his voice uncertain. He closed the door behind him slowly and stepped toward me.

“Ranger,” I greeted in return, waiting for his next comment.

We stood there in silence. Guess he didn't have anything more to say. Of course, given the look on his face, it's just possible I broke him.

Finally my impatience forced me to ask, “Are we going to do this, or what?”

Shaking himself, Ranger offered me an uncertain smile and shook his head. Stepping forward, he handed me a panic button, which I slid into the pocket of my skirt, and held out a microphone.

As always, he reached toward me to put it on, but before he touched me, he stopped.

“Babe,” he said, his voice a little strained. “Could you take the glasses off?”

I shrugged and pulled them off.

He seemed to drink in the sight of my face and I could see some of the tension or unease or whatever it was drain out of him.

With one more quick shake of his head, he stepped forward, slid his hand under my shirt and applied the tiny microphone right under my left breast. When his hands 'accidentally' brushed over my already hard nipples, I couldn't help but softly moan his name. “Ranger.”

“Babe,” he said, equally softly, his voice deep and husky.

Unsurprisingly, our lips met in a gentle kiss. Normally Ranger's kisses were hot and passionate. This one was gentle. I decided it was the demure look.

When he pulled back, we stared into each others' eyes. His hands were cupping my face and his thumbs were stroking my cheekbones.

“We need to go,” I whispered.

He nodded and pulled back. Placing a hand at the small of my back, he guided me out of the apartment, locking the doors behind us.

As he was locking up I replaced the glasses.

We made our way out to his BMW and took off for the bar.

Pulling into the parking lot, he brushed a whisper-soft kiss across my lips and encouraged, “Go get him, Tiger.”

I smiled and exited the car and made my way to the bar.

Opening the door, I did my best to look shy and uncertain as I made my way across the room and settled at the bar.

Pushing the glasses up the bridge of my nose, I waited for the bartender to come. Normally, the bartender is right there to wait on me. Tonight it was almost like I didn't exist. Huh, maybe I'd overdone the whole demure thing.

Eventually, I was able to order a glass of red wine and I set it just off to the side.

With a quick scan of the room, I spotted Erik and noted the three empty beer mugs sitting in front of him and the half-empty one in his hand.

Looked like he was getting ready.

I waited until he spotted me before looking away, down at my hands.

Sure enough, he thumped his beer on the table and stood up. He stalked over toward me and stopped close enough that I actually closed my eyes and breathed through my mouth to avoid the smell. There was no way those were his first four beers tonight and I'm pretty sure I could smell the beers he drank last night and the night before on him as well.

“What have we got here?” he asked, his voice too loud. “Looks like a loser to me!” he bellowed, laughing at his own statement.

I glanced around, people near me were beginning to give him uncomfortable looks, but not enough of the people were looking yet.

“Please, leave me alone, sir,” I pleaded in my best wimp voice.

“Please leave me alone,” he mocked. “I'll leave you alone, you worthless broad. I'll leave you alone when I'm good and ready to!”

He moved further into my space and I cringed backward. I honestly wasn't that scared of him, but the smell was nearly overwhelming.

He continued on along that vein for a while and I let him. Everyone around us was staring, that was good. Now if I could just get him to drink the wine, I could put the rest of my plan to make a scene into action. I just hoped it would work.

“I-I'll just take my d-drink and g-go over there,” I said softly, not meeting his eyes.

“You think you will, do you?” he taunted. “I don't think so!” With that, he reached over and grabbed my wine, drinking it down in one gulp before tossing the glass over his shoulder, not even flinching at the sound of breaking glass.

“This is just the worst day of my life,” I half-whined.

“Aww, what's wrong? Poor baby not get her drinky?” he tauntd.

I straightened my back and fake-sniffled. “No,” I said, my voice not carrying too far. “I woke up late, my car caught fire and was destroyed, I lost my job, found my husband screwing my worst enemy on my dining room table, found out my neighbor's suing me and my dog died. Finally, I had worked up the courage to end it all and you just drank down my poison!”

With great effort, I managed to hide my amusement as his expression changed from a sneer to panic. His face got red and he clawed at his throat. “Poison!” he bellowed so loudly that everyone in the bar looked at him. “You poisoned me!” he accused, turning toward the bar, reaching for the bartender who nimbly avoided him. Instead, Erik knocked over several bottles and glasses causing a magnificent crash.

He then turned away from the bar and staggered out into the room a ways, upending a few tables and tipping over chairs.

“Call 911!” he commanded. “I've been poisoned!”

He then dove at the nearest patron and downed an almost full beer. His actions tipped that table enough that the other drinks slid off into the lap of a barely dressed blond who shrieked and stood.

When she stood, her chair flew backward and bumped into the waitress who had frozen behind her. The tray of full glasses the waitress had been carrying went flying, showering two nearby tables with alcohol.

That unexpected shower resulted in more shrieks, shouts, tipped chairs and hysterics.

It was fascinating to watch. A subtle movement in the far shadows of the bar caught my eye. I quickly looked away, not wanting to draw attention to whatever it was. I suspected it was Ranger. He hadn't actually said the distraction I created was to cover his movements, but I suspected.

When the door to the back rooms opened up and people walked out, I took that as my queue to exit the building.

It took a while to avoid the chaos that was going on around me, but, eventually, I made my way to the door and slipped outside.

In a few moments, I was at Ranger's car and, though I wasn't actually expecting it, found him sitting inside waiting, a smile on his face.

Opening the door, I sank into the seat and took the glasses off, resting my head against the headrest.

Ranger touched my face and I turned to look at him. He was smiling at me. “Proud of you, Babe,” he assured.

I smiled back at him. Reaching under my shirt, I removed the microphone.

He took it, and put it away in a box in the glove compartment. “Poison?” he asked.

I shrugged. “One of my skips was practicing for open mic night. It was the punchline to a joke,” I admitted.

Ranger just chuckled and started the car. “Only you, Babe,” he said softly. “Only you.”

End

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