Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum Series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Thoughts On A Stakeout
By TT
The Wait (Ranger)
I glanced over at Stephanie to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep. I already knew she wasn't asleep from her breathing, but it is always good to get visual confirmation.
OK. The truth is, I just like looking at her. It's one of the reasons I invited her on this stakeout. Her presence makes the tediousness that much more palatable. OK, so, really, she just breaks up the boredom. That and I know she's a little short this month for rent. If the skip shows up during our stakeout, I'd pay her some of the bounty, just enough to make sure she could meet rent and maybe buy some more peanut butter and olives.
I ruthlessly suppress a shudder at that thought. What a disgusting sandwich.
She shifts slightly in her seat. It's the first time she's moved in twenty minutes. Oddly, the fact she now sits so long without complaining on a stakeout almost makes me long for the early days of our acquaintance when she couldn't make it five minutes without talking.
I was hoping she'd find something to chatter on about today. I would pretend to ignore her like I always do, but, the truth was, I was bored. Yes, bored. Just because I'm highly trained doesn't mean I enjoy surveillance any more than anyone else.
The first time we did a lengthy stakeout we were waiting for Kenny Mancuso to show up at his girlfriend's house. She not only couldn't sit still, but she chattered almost constantly. I admit I found it annoying after the first hour and a half. But that was before I got to know her better.
Now... Now I miss it. I suppose it's partially my own fault since I'm always quiet around her. Who wants to talk to someone who never responds, right? But she leaves me tongue-tied far too often. I don't think I've had this much trouble speaking around a woman since I was thirteen and had a crush on Julia McCarty. It's much easier to act around Stephanie than speak around her. Sad.
She thinks I'm a man of mystery. I'm just a man. In truth, I think she knows that, but she's good at denial and until I'm willing to let her in, she'll stick with her own edited version of reality. If I ever really spoke with her, she'd see that I'm nothing special; not like her. My Babe... now she's something else, something special, magic. She's light and laughter in the darkness. She give me hope for the future of humanity. She makes all the crap I do and go through seem worthwhile, like it means something. Like I mean something.
I can never tell her, though. It's not that a part of me doesn't want to. If I gave into that part of me, I'd be a real fool-boy for her, spouting poetry, putting her on a pedestal, giving her all of me, letting her see all of me, making myself vulnerable.
But I can't do that. I can't make myself vulnerable for her or anyone else. There's too much riding on my being on the top of my game.
And I know without a doubt that as soon as I'm not on top of my game, someone will come along and remove me – permanently.
The Obvious (Stephanie)
I hate stakeouts, but I really, really need the money. The unexpected death of my latest car coupled with the hike in my insurance rates left me without enough money for rent this month.
Don't get me wrong, I'm making pretty good money as a bounty hunter now, and I'm financially better off than I was when I first conned Vinnie into giving me the job, but the unexpected expenses took a toll on my wallet this time around.
I shifted slightly in my seat and caught Ranger looking at me from the corner of his eye. Needless to say I settled right back down.
It's been a while since I've done a stakeout with Ranger, but I remember he seems to get irritated with me if I squirm too much or snack or babble, so I'm doing everything I can to sit still and not talk.
Believe me it's not easy.
It doesn't help that I'm bored.
I spent the first ten minutes adjusting the visor just so in order to block the mid-morning sunshine.
That earned me a “Babe” from Ranger.
After my apology, I scanned the area and then kept my eyes moving around, scanning.
That kept me occupied and attentive for at least two minutes.
Then I got bored.
But I didn't squirm!
I let my mind wander and, with Ranger sitting beside me smelling like sin and looking like every dessert I'd ever dreamed of offered at once, my mind naturally turned to the deal and his collecting on the deal. Of course, I had to struggle very hard not to think about the fact that I never officially agreed to the deal in the first place and that he revealed he was total scum the following day.
Forcing my mind away from that before I could get lost in the mire of how used and cheap I felt when he walked out the door and wondering if that was how Lula felt in her old life, I focused instead on how he helped me, on how he kissed me and on how much I wanted to feel him skin-to-skin again.
I made a deal with myself, if I could sit for twenty minutes without fidgeting, I could eat the container of Ben and Jerry's sitting in my fridge. If I made it an hour without speaking, I'd have the chocolate cake and make sure it was a-la-mode with the Ben & Jerry's. And, the ultimate reward, if Ranger broke the silence in the car before I did... a home spa day with two slices of cake, the ice cream and, perhaps, an encounter with my shower massager.
Now, I just had to ignore that smug little voice in the back of my head that kept telling me I'd be having the two slices of cake, ice cream and shower massager encounter regardless of who broke the silence.
Still, it's good to have goals.
Scanning the neighborhood one more time, I then scanned the inside of the car and spotted the file folder on the back seat.
With a quick grab, I had it in my lap. I'd looked at the picture of the guy, but nothing else. I didn't even know his name.
Flipping the cover open, I read his name and couldn't suppress the snort of laughter.
That got me a raised eyebrow.
OK, so he didn't exactly break the silence, but it was still a question.
“Did you look at the skip's name?” I asked.
Ranger shrugged. “Ydd.”
I grinned widely and nodded. “Stuart Phillip Ydd,” I stated, unable to suppress a giggle. When I saw the look of confusion on Ranger's face, I rolled my eyes and figured I'd have to spell it out for him. “His last name is spelled Y-D-D but pronounced like 'id'.”
Ranger nodded, still looking puzzled.
“A nickname for Stuart is 'Stu', right?”
Another nod. He still looked confused.
My smile was back and I was working to suppress my laughter. “Most people only use their middle initial, not the whole name.”
Another nod.
Good grief! When did he become so dense. Shaking slightly with laughter, I continued, “So, his name is Stu P. Ydd. Get it? Stu-p-ydd? Stupid?” I couldn't hold back my laughter anymore. “The skip is stupid.”
Through the tears of amusement gathering in my eyes, I could see Ranger's grin as he shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself.
“Babe.”
End