Disclaimer: The OC is owned by someone with much more money than me.

Author's note: Naija: Seth and Ryan taking their clothes off for money huh? I might have to add a fifth chapter. MissSuga: Do you think I covered all the stereotypes? None of them have a nervous, annoying, small dog in a handbag. Although in retrospect, I wish I had included one. It could be nipping at Seth.

I'm sure everyone was barely able to function today wondering if there would be an update. Calm yourselves, here it is.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing, (laughing to myself). You guys are the best.

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A Small Favor

Chapter Three

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Ryan sits at the breakfast bar, shoulders hunched, waiting for his next summons into the living room.

Seth reaches for the phone.

"Who are you calling?" Ryan asks.

"The exterminator," Seth deadpans. "We've got Newpsies."

Ryan rolls his head to one side, shoots Seth an exasperated look.

"Dude, I'm calling mama bear. It's been twenty minutes. The swarm is growing restless."

"Bugging her isn't going to help Seth," Ryan warns. "It's the start of rush hour."

The entrance of Monica Standish interrupts their conversation.

"Boys, we're running low on drinks, could I bother you for some refreshers?"

Seth sets the phone back into its cradle, looks at Ryan for guidance.

"Yeah, sure," Ryan replies, and takes the glass from Monica. "Uh, Seth, can you grab the rest?"

Seth nods and scurries into the living room, leaving Mrs. Standish and Ryan alone.

Ryan fills up Mrs. Standish's glass with crushed ice, reaches into the fridge for the orange juice, and then pours in the vodka. Lastly, he retrieves a two-liter of Sprite from the refrigerator and adds a dash to the mixture.

"I knew there was a mystery ingredient you sneaky little devil," Monica teases.

Ryan blushes.

"Ryan dear, how old are you?" Mrs. Standish inquires.

Ryan stirs the drink, doesn't look up. "Sixteen."

"I'm guessing Kirsten Cohen didn't teach you how to make a screwdriver?"

Ryan doesn't respond.

Monica walks over to Ryan, leans across him to retrieve her drink. Her arm brushes up against him and she politely excuses herself. Ryan steps aside awkwardly.

"Don't worry Little Boy Blue, your secret is safe with me."

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In the living room, Seth is balancing five almost empty glasses and mentally checking waiter off his list of future occupations.

"Seth honey," one of the Newpsies calls for his attention. "Could you possibly find something for us to munch on? Kirsten mentioned appetizers."

"Um," Seth fumbles with the glasses, "I think she's bringing those home with her."

"Well, you must have something," another Newpsie insists.

A third Newpsie whispers to her friends, "Go find that boy they have living in the pool house, he's much more helpful."

"I can make popcorn."

Seth regrets his offer immediately. Its sounds pathetic even to him.

"I haven't had popcorn in years," Newpsie number one says wistfully.

"Is it that kettle-corn kind?" Newpsie number two asks, obviously interested.

"Popcorn is so bad for you," Newpsie number three conspires.

"I'll be right back ladies," Seth excuses himself.

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"You're actually giving them popcorn?" Ryan asks incredulously. Seth gingerly pulls a hot bag of popcorn out of the microwave and stands back as steam plumes from the unopened bag.

"Yes," Seth answers defensively.

"We're serving some of the most powerful women in Newport Beach screwdrivers and popcorn at 3:45 in the afternoon." Ryan says more to himself than Seth.

"Well, when you say it like that," Seth shrugs.

"Kirsten's going to kill us." Ryan predicts.

"Hey, I'm only responsible for the popcorn," Seth taunts as he exits the kitchen.

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Ryan finishes making the new round of drinks. He balances them on a tray and walks into the living room. Seth is sitting on the couch between two Newpsies. One of them reaches into his hair and attempts to push down an unruly curl.

"Your hair is just so...springy," she declares joyfully.

Seth looks up helplessly as Ryan enters the room, "Oh look everyone, Ryan's back with more drinks."

Seth jumps off the sofa, goes to Ryan's side and reaches for two of the glasses.

"How much alcohol was in those drinks?" He whispers to Ryan. "I think that Mrs. Halsey..." he sneaks a point towards the Newpsie that was playing with his hair, "Just pinched my butt!"

Ryan looks at the other teen skeptically, "Not that much alcohol."

"Whatever." Seth dismisses Ryan's barb. "I'm telling you dude, Mrs. Halsey is hot for teacher."

Ryan shakes his head.

"Seth Cohen!" Mrs. Halsey squeals, "Is that my drink you're holding?"

"Yes Mrs. Halsey," Seth replies, his answer reminiscent of a first grader in roll call. Seth walks to the sofa and dispenses his two drinks while Ryan circulates around the room distributing the rest.

"Did Kirsten mention what time she was arriving?" Mrs. Standish asks Ryan as he passes by her.

"Uh, not really. Maybe fifteen more minutes?" Ryan cringes.

"The ladies need entertainment," she informs Ryan. "We've already recapped all five of my failed marriages, Jimmy Cooper's felonious activities and Barbara Van Heusman's three boob jobs."

Ryan suggests, "Maybe you could just get the meeting started."

"Honey," Monica states candidly, "Do you honestly think any of us know what's on the agenda? That's what Kirsten is for."

Ryan gazes out into the Newpsie crowd. Seth may be right about Mrs. Halsey. The woman has the teen trapped on the couch again and is pinching his cheeks.

"Ryan?" Seth locks eyes on him, mouths, 'Help me...please.'

"Someone must know why all of you are here." Ryan persists.

Monica shakes her head back and forth, laughs. "Don't look at me. I just got back last week from France. Tish Martin called me this morning and told me she was picking me up. I have no idea why I'm here."

"Ryan?" Seth says from across the room, his voice cracking with desperation.

"Does anybody want to watch TV?" Ryan hastily proposes. All six Newpsies stare at him as if a second head has sprouted.

Newpsie number two hiccups.

"Ryan knows how to play poker," Seth pipes in.

"Oh goodie!" Monica claps excitedly.

"I'll go get the cards," Seth propels himself off the couch.

"I do so love a good game of poker." Mrs. Standish smiles impishly.

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To be continued......because if you've made it this far, what's one more chapter?