Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Character: Stephanie Plum
Pairing: None
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Feedback: Email TT

Welcome To Anywhere
By TT

Stephanie let out a low groan as consciousness asserted itself. Her head throbbed, her muscles ached and she didn’t even want to attempt to open her eyes, though she knew she would have to eventually.

As her aching mind began working again, she tried to remember what had happened.

She could remember standing in a conference room with Joe and Ranger. Her latest stalker had been getting too close for their comfort – and for hers too, though she wouldn’t admit it. The thought of running from her life and letting someone else handle her problem didn’t sit well at all.

She remembered they had both left and sinking down in a chair at the conference table.

Tank had come in with a cup of coffee for her fixed with just the right amount of cream and sugar.

Past
He stood quietly in the corner for several minutes before asking. “Do you never wish to be somewhere else when being stalked?”

Stephanie snorted at the absurdity of the question. “Of course I do,” she admitted. “But I’m not going to run away from my problems. I should be the one to clean it up.” Just then a yawn overtook her. She hadn’t been sleeping well since this whole nightmare started two weeks ago.

Tank seemed to ignore the last part of her statement and asked. “If you could go away, where would you go?”

Stephanie rested her head on her hand and spun her chair to look out of the window. “Anywhere,” she admitted, as her eyes closed.

Present
It was then that she knew what had happened. The jerks had drugged her and shipped her off somewhere. That was why she felt so horrible.

Slowly cracking her eyes open, she winced at the bright sunlight streaming through the window.

Taking a look around, she scanned the room. The walls were wood, not wood paneling, but wood, as were the floors. There were braided rugs on the floor and the decorations and furniture she could see was solid and worn. It looked comfortable. She noticed two doorways on the side of the room. One had the door closed. The other doorway was standing open and she could just make out tiles on the floor from her angle.

Figuring that was probably the bathroom, she sighed in relief. As she became more alert, various bodily functions had made themselves known.

With some effort she forced herself into a sitting position and immediately regretted it as her stomach churned and she felt the acrid taste of bile begin to fill her mouth.

Knowing it was hopeless to fight it, Stephanie quickly launched herself toward the bathroom, arriving at the toilet just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into it.

When she was satisfied that her bout of sickness had passed, she slowly stood up, flushed the toilet and moved to the sink. She said a short prayer of thanks as she opened a new toothbrush and applied toothpaste.

Checking the medicine cabinet, she wasn’t surprised to find her products sitting inside waiting for her to use.

Ten minutes later, her face washed, mascara applied and other needs handled, she stepped back out into the room.

Moving toward the window to take a look at her prison, she was delayed by a knock on the door.

Detouring, she made her way over and looked down at the handle. There was a lock on it and it was open. “Huh,” she grunted to herself. That was unusual. When they got her she was usually locked in and unable to leave.

With a turn of the knob, she opened the door a little and blinked twice at the sight of a small, white-haired lady standing on the other side of the door. She couldn’t be much taller than Grandma Mazur, but she looked far haler. “Yes?” Stephanie asked.

“Hello, dear,” the woman said. “I’m glad to see you up and about the boys were getting worried about you.”

At the mention of “the boys”, Stephanie’s anger flared. They had drugged her and carted her away to this place without her permission. They had taken away her choices and her freedom. It was something she wasn’t sure she could forgive.

Seeing the anger flare in Stephanie’s eyes, the other woman tisked and asked, “May I come in for a few minutes?”

Since it wasn’t this woman with whom she was angry and seeing her as a potential source of information, Stephanie opened the door and ushered the other woman inside. The woman in question settled in the rocking chair on one side of the window. Stephanie settled into the armchair opposite.

“Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Mabel Stanton,” she said, a kind smile on her lips. “I know that you’re Stephanie Plum. My grandson Hal has mentioned you a few times.”

“Pleased to meet you Mrs. Stanton,” Stephanie replied, her Burg manners asserting themselves.

“You can call me Mabel,” the older woman replied.

“Mabel,” Stephanie agreed, smiling. “I’m Stephanie.”

“Before we get into anything else, dear, how are you feeling? Any sickness? Dizziness?”

Stephanie’s smile faded. She didn’t really want to get into it with Mabel, it didn’t seem polite somehow, but, looking into the older woman’s golden eyes, she felt that she could trust her. “I was sick when I woke up. My muscles and head still ache and my stomach is rocky at best,” Stephanie admitted. “I haven’t been up long enough to know about any dizziness.”

Mabel reached over and patted Stephanie’s hand. “A few hours and it will all pass,” she assured. “When we’re done here, we can go down and I’ll fix you some broth and bread. That will set things right.”

“Thank you,” Stephanie replied. After a moment’s silence, she asked, “Mabel? Where exactly am I?”

A soft laugh floated in the air. “You’re at my father’s ranch in North Dakota,” she explained.

Stephanie felt herself pale at this information.

Mabel took Stephanie’s hand in her own and squeezed it reassuringly. “My brother actually owns it now. My nephew runs it. You’re safe here and your family is safe as well.”

Stephanie closed her eyes and released a breath of relief. Knowing that her family was safe took away one worry, but did nothing to alleviate the feeling of betrayal and anger at her friends. Some of her emotions must have shown on her face. She opened her eyes once more when Mabel squeezed her hand.

“They were wrong in what they did to you,” she acknowledged, “but they did it because they care for you.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Stephanie defended, still hurting from the actions of those she considered friends. “And it doesn’t mean I’ll be able to trust them again,” she added softly, almost to herself.

Mabel chuckled softly and withdrew her hand. She settled back and began rocking, her eyes taking on a distant look. “Men are a puzzle and a trial to women,” she stated. “They take one look at us and think we’re the most fragile piece of china out there and that they have to protect us from everything in case we break. But women are a hardy lot. Doesn’t stop the men from thinking we’re incapable of protecting ourselves, though. Hal’s grandfather, my husband, used to try and shield me from everything. He didn’t want me to have to know about some of the harsh realities of life.” At this Mabel snorted in amusement and met Stephanie’s eyes, “I lost three babies before birth and two after,” she murmured, sadness, pain and loss evident in her voice. “It doesn’t get much harsher or more real than that.” Mabel was quiet for a moment longer before continuing. “Didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap me in cotton wool and tuck me away somewhere, though. Foolish man. But he loved me dearly. When you love someone, you want to do everything you can to protect him or her, to keep him or her safe. That’s true if you’re a man or a woman. But men see things differently than we do. They’ll sometimes see a threat to our physical well being and react, or over-react without thinking about the consequences to our emotional or mental well being.” Meeting Stephanie’s eyes, Mabel leaned forward and confided, “Sometimes men are brutes and idiots and that goes for men today as much as back then. And it’s our lot to forgive them – eventually.”

At the addition of ‘eventually’, Stephanie couldn’t help but smile briefly. Her smile faded, though as the feeling of betrayal asserted itself. “But can I trust them again?” she asked. “If they drugged me this time to get me to do what they wanted, what’s to stop them from doing it again? They had no right to take away my choices, no right to send me away.” Tears filled Stephanie’s eyes as the feelings of betrayal increased. She started taking shaky breaths to calm herself.

Mabel was silent until Stephanie had herself once more under control. “I can’t answer that question for you, Stephanie,” she informed. “Only you will be able to answer it. You will eventually need to forgive them,” she instructed. “Carrying that around will turn you bitter and angry.”

Stephanie just looked at her. On an intellectual level she could understand what Mabel was saying, she could even understand the reasons Ranger and Joe sent her away – even if she still didn’t agree with them. Emotionally, she was nowhere near ready to forgive them and couldn’t imagine a time when she would be.

After a few minutes of silence, Mabel spoke again. “Your young men aren’t here. Hal and a few of his friends are around, but I sent them out of the house and put them to work once I found out what they did. Myron, my brother, and I will see to your safety while you’re here. And I want you to know you’re our guest not our prisoner. You’re free to go where you want.”

“I just want to go home,” Stephanie admitted tiredly.

“If I could get you there, I would,” Mabel soothed. “But our trucks are needed on the farm this week and won’t be free to use until next week.”

“Thanks,” Stephanie said.

“Now, how about I get you that soup and bread?” Mabel asked, rising from the chair. “Then I’ll give you the grand tour of the house and grounds.”

“That would be great,” Stephanie agreed, rising to follow her new friend. “Does your farm have a name?” she asked, curious.

Mabel smiled. “Sure does, honey,” she assured. “It’s called Anywhere.”

End.

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