Title : In The Beginning

Author : Helen C.

Rating : PG, I guess.

Summary : Ryan runs into some trouble, as he tends to do in fanfic (happy people have no stories, right?)

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AN : Written for finlee, who wanted, "Ryan helps an old lady - who turns out to be the most feared woman in Newport Beach (but is actually very nice-she just likes people to be uncomfortable around her)."

Many thanks to Joey51 for beta'ing this.

Epilogue

The Cohens hosted a party about two months after school started. Ryan's encounter with the thug was now just another bad memory, Seth had finally been able to lose his cast and start PT, and Kirsten wanted to celebrate.

Sometimes, Ryan wondered if he would ever get over how much people in Newport partied. Every week, there was an event, or a function, or a party, and Ryan couldn't for the life of him figure out what was the difference between the three. To his untrained eye, it always came down to putting on nice clothes and drinking and eating and talking/gossiping.

After half an hour spent in the company of Newpsies and of the kids he saw at school, Ryan decided he had had enough.

As discreetly as possible, he made his way to the patio, where he almost bumped into Marissa. She had a drink in hand and seemed sad, as she usually did, pretty much all the time.

She smiled at him, almost hopefully, and he nodded briefly at her before beating a hasty retreat to the poolhouse. He glimpsed Luke, who was standing apart from the crowd, studying Marissa and frowning.

Seemed like not all was well for them, then.

Ryan just hoped Marissa wasn't going to start chasing after him—he had reached some kind of uneasy, tacit truce with Luke, and he didn't want the hostilities to start up again.

Ryan sat on his bed and tried to loosen up a little. Attending one of these parties was akin to walking into a war zone. He kept walking on cultural landmines and getting hit by acerbic comments thrown his way by cynical, surgically-redone women.

He needed some time to lick his wounds before going back into the fray, the last comment from Julie Cooper ("So, does this mean you've decided to accept Kirsten's… charity, then?") having been the one that made him second-guess his decision to stay here.

He knew he shouldn't have paid any attention to what these people said, but he had to admit that it was hard hearing their opinion of him, and knowing nothing he could do or say would change it.

Voices outside drew him out of his descent into self-pity.

"So, Sandy," Mrs. Thyls was saying.

Ryan smiled. Clearly, the woman wasn't biting Sandy's head off, and was actually using his first name—so, that meant that he had been right, and that Sandy knew something most people didn't about the so-called Scary Lady.

His guardian warm voice replied, "Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm hiding, of course," Sandy replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mrs. Thyls chuckled before asking, "How is Ryan doing?"

"Good, I think. I'll tell him you asked."

"Yes, do. Really, Sandy, I should thank you too—if you hadn't brought him into your home, who knows what would have happened that night…"

"Ryan helps people a lot," Sandy agreed.

"And you're worried about him."

There was a silence, and Ryan wondered if there was any way he could stop listening to what was turning out to be a rather private conversation—even if it was about him.

"Yes," Sandy said, at last.

"He'll be fine, Sandy. I like him."

Ryan stifled a laugh—she said it as if the fact that she liked him automatically meant that everything was going to be all right, as if Fate or Karma or God or whatever was taking orders from her.

But then, given that this was Mrs. Thyls, it was a possibility.

"I'll be sure to tell him that, too" Sandy said.

"I'm sure he already knows," Mrs. Thyls replied. "He seems very smart. He'll get along, Sanford."

"Yes."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go back and scare the hell out of Julie Cooper. You should go ask Ryan if he wants to come out of the poolhouse and come enjoy the show."

Ryan felt more than a little self conscious as she left.

Busted by the Scary Lady. Great.

He didn't even want to know how she had guessed—the blinds were drawn and he hadn't switched on the lights.

Three seconds later, Sandy was peeking in. "Hey, kid."

"Hey." He smiled nervously.

"Strange woman, isn't she?"

Ryan nodded, but then, he thought that pretty much everyone in Newport was strange—their worries and their preoccupations seemed to be a million miles away from what the rest of the world worried about.

But he knew that wasn't true—most kids at school seemed interested only in drugs and sex, much like their counterparts in Chino. Everything was just shinier and cleaner here, at first sight at least.

"Yeah, she's scary," Sandy added, a fond smile on his face.

"How long have you known…" Ryan asked, gesturing vaguely.

"From the first time I met her. I was having words with Caleb, she overheard, and decided she liked me." Sandy winked at Ryan. "I think she has a thing for guys like us."

Ryan didn't need to ask what Sandy meant by "guys like us." He knew perfectly well—outsiders, people who watched the Newport society with a healthy amount of humor and skepticism, who lived there but didn't really belong.

"Seth and Kirsten really don't know?" he asked, curious.

"No. Do you plan to tell them?"

Ryan smiled, imagining what Mrs. Thyls would say if she ever learned that he had told anyone about her little secret. "Hell, no," he said. "She's still scary."

"In more ways than one." Sandy smiled. "Wanna come see a Julie Cooper smack down? It should be an enjoyable show."

Ryan nodded. "Sure."

And so it was that the car thief from Chino, now dressed in a horribly expensive suit, joined his lawyer-guardian to watch a seventy-year-old woman, whom everyone was scared of, humiliate in public the most obnoxious woman he had ever met.

All in all, just another day in Newport.

End