Disclaimers: They all belong to somebody, but not me.
Author's Note: This follows 'Hidden Secrets'. It can make since if you don't read it, but it might make more if you do.
"Sorry to bother you." Richie said quickly as a large, angry man slammed the door in his face. 'Rylan wouldn't be here unless she had to.' He decided. And at two o'clock in the afternoon, she didn't.
He took a deep breath of simi-fresh city air as he stepped outside the building and tried to decide where Rylan would be. It had been four months since he had seen her, but she was as habit oriented as he was so tracking her down wouldn't be too hard. Five blocks later. . . Richie left the pool hall a little less enthusiastic than when he had entered; nobody had heard from her in weeks.
'Maybe she decided to try and skip town again.' He thought. 'No,' he quickly decided 'she would have told me.'
She was after all his best friend, and had been for the past twelve years. But then again, he had been pretty unavailable for the past couple of months. Getting used to his new living arrangements was taking time. And he had been having trouble with the idea of having to keep secrets from her. For twelve years she had been the one person who knew everything about him, they had been practically inseparable. And now he had no idea where to find her. Finally he decided to give up and headed home. Richie turned the corner and stopped. He could hear yelling coming from an alley. He approached the voices and peeked around the corner. Two boys about his age had trapped a girl and where demanding her wallet.
"Not gonna happen." She spat before slamming her fist into one of their stomachs.
Richie raised his eyebrows; he knew that voice. It belonged to the only person he knew that could successfully execute the kick-boxing move that slammed the second boy across the narrow alley and into the wall. He couldn't help grinning as he watched Rylan easily outmatch the first boy and pin him to the ground.
"How many people have you hit today?" she asked. The boy didn't answer. "Then let's just see, shall we?" She searched his pockets and produced several wads of crumpled bills. "Nice hall." She commented shoving the money into her own pocket.
The second boy had regained his composure and was about to get Rylan from behind when Richie lightly put his hand on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said softly, his voice coming out deeper than he had intended. "I'd just hand over your money and run." The boy did as he was told and didn't wait for his friend before making his exit.
"You should probably join him before you piss your pants." Rylan said picking he boy up by the back of his shirt. She brushed the dirt off her jeans and picked up her bag before turning to Richie. "You still got it, Ryan." She said approvingly.
"Hard to lose it." He shrugged. "It's great to see you." He added pulling her in for a hug.
"You too, man. How's life with the other half?" she asked pulling away.
"You mean Mac and Tessa? Fine, a little ackward, but we're getting over it. Here you can have this." He handed over the money he had confiscated from the would-be mugger.
"Oh, too good for a little dirty money, are we?" she asked counting the bills. "There's $91 here and you're entitled to half, you know."
"Nah, keep it."
"Okay." She pocketed the cash.
"So, what have you been up to? I take it New York didn't go as planned." He asked putting an arm around her and leading her down the street.
"Nope. Never even got out of town. I don't know what Powell's fixation is on me, but I wish he would give it a rest. All I want to do is just get the hell out of Washington."
"Hey, give the guy a break, he needs somebody to blame everything on. And if he can't get me, you're the next best thing." Richie smiled.
"Gee thanks, I've always wanted to be somebody's plan 'b'."
"Give yourself two years, and then Powell can't touch you. Are you hungry?"
"Always. But I'm anxious. There's no way I can get published around here. I mean, what am I going to say. 'Hi I'm Rylan Fisher. When I was seven I saw two men going at it with swords and wrote a series of stories about it. By the way, instead of a file I have my own damn drawer down at police HQ. They love me down there.' Where are we going?"
"May place, it's just around the corner. Something tells me that's not how the meeting would go. How are the stories coming?"
"Since when do you care? You always thought I just made the whole thing up."
"I changed my mind. Here we are." He opened the door.
"Holy crap, this is it?" She stopped and stared at the artifacts on display in the antique store.
"Well, we live upstairs, but yeah this is it."
"From the projects to the Hights nice move." She said following him up the stairs.
"I like it." He shrugged peering into the refrigerator. "Huh, I thought we had more food. You want to order a pizza?"
"Sure, so how you been? I haven't seen you in forever, man."
"Eh, I've been busy. Usual?"
"Yeah."
Twenty Minutes Later . . .
"So what are these people like?" Rylan asked through a mouthful of pizza.
"They're pretty, well they're great really. I really like them. And I have to admit; it's nice to have them around. Although it's a little weird, you know?"
"It's taking some getting used to?"
"Exactly, I haven't felt this way about anybody since. . . "
"Emily?" She supplied.
"Yeah." He looked down.
"So . . . this is some set up you got here." Rylan said changing the subject.
"Yeah, I like it."
"Okay, been there done that. We need a new topic."
"How about you? You tend to be an interesting topic."
"Okay shoot."
"Um. . . written any good stories lately?" He asked with a boyish grin.
. . . . . .
"Okay Mac." Richie laughed. "Tell Tessa I heard that and I'm fine. . . Okay. . . I'll see you tomorrow." Richie hung up the phone and turned to Rylan.
"Apparently there's a big storm in Seattle and it's headed this way so Mac and Tessa are staying the night. And maybe you should too." He added looking out the window. "It's getting pretty nasty out there."
"Or I could just make a run for it." She offered a split second before there was a loud clap of thunder and the lights flickered.
"Not a chance. You're here tonight. It'll be just like old times." He grinned at her. Slowly she returned the smile.
"Are you sure it's okay?"
Richie shrugged. "I don't see why not. Is there someone you need to call? Probation officer maybe?"
. . . . . .
Richie rolled over and put his arm around Rylan. He could feel he blankets over him, but for some reason he was suddenly cold. Apparently she was too, because she snuggled her back against his chest and murmured softly. He breathed in her sent and smiled. Apples, just like he had expected. Somehow she always smelled like apples, even when she had showered and put on his clothes she smelled like apples. He gave her a little squeeze and wiggled them both further under the covers. Suddenly a piercing and persistent beep filled the silence. Both teens made small sleepy protesting noises and buried their heads under the blanket.
"Are you going to turn it off?" Rylan's voice was muffled by the covers.
"You're the one who set it." Richie protested.
"It's your clock."
"You do it."
"You're closer."
"Am not, I'm just as close as you are."
"Your arms are longer."
"Umph." Richie replied.
"I'll get it."
"Thanks Mac." Richie mumbled. "Mac?!" he sat up and looked into the angry brown eyes that were glaring down at him.
"I thought you said they weren't coming back until tomorrow." Rylan squeeked.
"It is tomorrow." Tessa answered from the doorway.
"Richie, we need to talk. Now." Duncan said evenly grabbing him by the arm. Richie looked down as he, clad only in his boxers, was dragged past Tessa and out of his room. Rylan blushed and got out of bed wearing Richie's sweatpants and T-shirt.
"If that's Mac, I guess that makes you Tessa." She said offering a weak grin.
"And who does that make you?" She asked.
"Oh, um, I'm Rylan Fisher."
"Well, Rylan, would you like to tell me what happened in my house while I was gone?"
Author's Note: This follows 'Hidden Secrets'. It can make since if you don't read it, but it might make more if you do.
"Sorry to bother you." Richie said quickly as a large, angry man slammed the door in his face. 'Rylan wouldn't be here unless she had to.' He decided. And at two o'clock in the afternoon, she didn't.
He took a deep breath of simi-fresh city air as he stepped outside the building and tried to decide where Rylan would be. It had been four months since he had seen her, but she was as habit oriented as he was so tracking her down wouldn't be too hard. Five blocks later. . . Richie left the pool hall a little less enthusiastic than when he had entered; nobody had heard from her in weeks.
'Maybe she decided to try and skip town again.' He thought. 'No,' he quickly decided 'she would have told me.'
She was after all his best friend, and had been for the past twelve years. But then again, he had been pretty unavailable for the past couple of months. Getting used to his new living arrangements was taking time. And he had been having trouble with the idea of having to keep secrets from her. For twelve years she had been the one person who knew everything about him, they had been practically inseparable. And now he had no idea where to find her. Finally he decided to give up and headed home. Richie turned the corner and stopped. He could hear yelling coming from an alley. He approached the voices and peeked around the corner. Two boys about his age had trapped a girl and where demanding her wallet.
"Not gonna happen." She spat before slamming her fist into one of their stomachs.
Richie raised his eyebrows; he knew that voice. It belonged to the only person he knew that could successfully execute the kick-boxing move that slammed the second boy across the narrow alley and into the wall. He couldn't help grinning as he watched Rylan easily outmatch the first boy and pin him to the ground.
"How many people have you hit today?" she asked. The boy didn't answer. "Then let's just see, shall we?" She searched his pockets and produced several wads of crumpled bills. "Nice hall." She commented shoving the money into her own pocket.
The second boy had regained his composure and was about to get Rylan from behind when Richie lightly put his hand on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said softly, his voice coming out deeper than he had intended. "I'd just hand over your money and run." The boy did as he was told and didn't wait for his friend before making his exit.
"You should probably join him before you piss your pants." Rylan said picking he boy up by the back of his shirt. She brushed the dirt off her jeans and picked up her bag before turning to Richie. "You still got it, Ryan." She said approvingly.
"Hard to lose it." He shrugged. "It's great to see you." He added pulling her in for a hug.
"You too, man. How's life with the other half?" she asked pulling away.
"You mean Mac and Tessa? Fine, a little ackward, but we're getting over it. Here you can have this." He handed over the money he had confiscated from the would-be mugger.
"Oh, too good for a little dirty money, are we?" she asked counting the bills. "There's $91 here and you're entitled to half, you know."
"Nah, keep it."
"Okay." She pocketed the cash.
"So, what have you been up to? I take it New York didn't go as planned." He asked putting an arm around her and leading her down the street.
"Nope. Never even got out of town. I don't know what Powell's fixation is on me, but I wish he would give it a rest. All I want to do is just get the hell out of Washington."
"Hey, give the guy a break, he needs somebody to blame everything on. And if he can't get me, you're the next best thing." Richie smiled.
"Gee thanks, I've always wanted to be somebody's plan 'b'."
"Give yourself two years, and then Powell can't touch you. Are you hungry?"
"Always. But I'm anxious. There's no way I can get published around here. I mean, what am I going to say. 'Hi I'm Rylan Fisher. When I was seven I saw two men going at it with swords and wrote a series of stories about it. By the way, instead of a file I have my own damn drawer down at police HQ. They love me down there.' Where are we going?"
"May place, it's just around the corner. Something tells me that's not how the meeting would go. How are the stories coming?"
"Since when do you care? You always thought I just made the whole thing up."
"I changed my mind. Here we are." He opened the door.
"Holy crap, this is it?" She stopped and stared at the artifacts on display in the antique store.
"Well, we live upstairs, but yeah this is it."
"From the projects to the Hights nice move." She said following him up the stairs.
"I like it." He shrugged peering into the refrigerator. "Huh, I thought we had more food. You want to order a pizza?"
"Sure, so how you been? I haven't seen you in forever, man."
"Eh, I've been busy. Usual?"
"Yeah."
Twenty Minutes Later . . .
"So what are these people like?" Rylan asked through a mouthful of pizza.
"They're pretty, well they're great really. I really like them. And I have to admit; it's nice to have them around. Although it's a little weird, you know?"
"It's taking some getting used to?"
"Exactly, I haven't felt this way about anybody since. . . "
"Emily?" She supplied.
"Yeah." He looked down.
"So . . . this is some set up you got here." Rylan said changing the subject.
"Yeah, I like it."
"Okay, been there done that. We need a new topic."
"How about you? You tend to be an interesting topic."
"Okay shoot."
"Um. . . written any good stories lately?" He asked with a boyish grin.
. . . . . .
"Okay Mac." Richie laughed. "Tell Tessa I heard that and I'm fine. . . Okay. . . I'll see you tomorrow." Richie hung up the phone and turned to Rylan.
"Apparently there's a big storm in Seattle and it's headed this way so Mac and Tessa are staying the night. And maybe you should too." He added looking out the window. "It's getting pretty nasty out there."
"Or I could just make a run for it." She offered a split second before there was a loud clap of thunder and the lights flickered.
"Not a chance. You're here tonight. It'll be just like old times." He grinned at her. Slowly she returned the smile.
"Are you sure it's okay?"
Richie shrugged. "I don't see why not. Is there someone you need to call? Probation officer maybe?"
. . . . . .
Richie rolled over and put his arm around Rylan. He could feel he blankets over him, but for some reason he was suddenly cold. Apparently she was too, because she snuggled her back against his chest and murmured softly. He breathed in her sent and smiled. Apples, just like he had expected. Somehow she always smelled like apples, even when she had showered and put on his clothes she smelled like apples. He gave her a little squeeze and wiggled them both further under the covers. Suddenly a piercing and persistent beep filled the silence. Both teens made small sleepy protesting noises and buried their heads under the blanket.
"Are you going to turn it off?" Rylan's voice was muffled by the covers.
"You're the one who set it." Richie protested.
"It's your clock."
"You do it."
"You're closer."
"Am not, I'm just as close as you are."
"Your arms are longer."
"Umph." Richie replied.
"I'll get it."
"Thanks Mac." Richie mumbled. "Mac?!" he sat up and looked into the angry brown eyes that were glaring down at him.
"I thought you said they weren't coming back until tomorrow." Rylan squeeked.
"It is tomorrow." Tessa answered from the doorway.
"Richie, we need to talk. Now." Duncan said evenly grabbing him by the arm. Richie looked down as he, clad only in his boxers, was dragged past Tessa and out of his room. Rylan blushed and got out of bed wearing Richie's sweatpants and T-shirt.
"If that's Mac, I guess that makes you Tessa." She said offering a weak grin.
"And who does that make you?" She asked.
"Oh, um, I'm Rylan Fisher."
"Well, Rylan, would you like to tell me what happened in my house while I was gone?"