A/N: There's probably going to be another fast update after this. Or two. After that, it's going to slow down because I am dangerously almost out of material to post. I haven't written a new chapter in months. Lol.

And as a side note...that Hollywood episode was one of the funnier episodes I've seen in a while. The part where Paisley and Olive went on the game show made me laugh hardest. After that, it was probably the Walrus scene. =D

Chapter 7

"You know Janice, when you asked me to go to New York with you, I didn't quite picture it…like this." Fletcher said.

Janice giggled. "So you're not having fun? I'm having a great time!"

"That's easy for you to say," Stevens interjected.

Both Fletcher and Janice turned to Stevens, who made up a third of Janice's charming security detail. Charming to Janice, anyway. It was always hard to get comfortable around the guards. Even now, Fletcher was trying to keep himself relaxed.

Janice laughed. Stevens, whose sheer size frightened Fletcher at times, looked like he was cut down to half his size today. He was moping –

"Stevens, does it really bother you that I got Pennsylvania Avenue?" Janice asked.

Stevens looked longingly at the monopoly board. "A little."

Quincy, Janice's other bodyguard, who can pass for Stevens' twin, clapped a hand on Quincy, "Don't worry. We're still in this." Quincy said, though he stared at the monopoly board, befuddled.

The only guard who was enjoying himself was Chris. He counted his monopoly money in slow fashion. His normally sharp and focused eyes – like a hawk's – danced today under a cleanly shaved bald head.

Quincy took a hard look at all of his boss's money. "The amount of money you have … it baffles me."

Janice smirked. "Absolutely baffling, it is!"

Fletcher laughed. "Janice! Don't be mean! It's ok, Quincy. I'm behind in the game too – "

Instantly, all three guards turned to Fletcher: "Who gave you permission to speak?" They spoke in unison.

"Sorry, sorry! Just trying to be nice."

And so Fletcher kept quiet for the next ten rounds of Monopoly. In fact, the whole game was coming along in quiet fashion, until without warning, Stevens shot up from his seat.

"I can't take this game anymore!" Stevens exclaimed.

Quincy raised a single eyebrow. "What's wrong? You're making excellent headway." He pointed out.

Stevens was getting flustered now-

"Chris has a monopoly on the whole right side of the board. We – we can't win! Too many hotels…houses…" Stevens clutched his head with both hands.

"Keep calm, man. Think this through." Quincy said in a rational voice.

"Oh sure. You can afford to talk like that after acquiring Illinois and Indiana Avenue! Why would Chris even trade you that, anyway?"

Quincy shrugged. "I saw the opportunity for a mutually beneficial alliance, and I took it."

"That's not very fair!" Stevens said petulantly.

Quincy got up too now. "Deal with it. Say, if you're finished, can you give me your properties?" He asked Stevens.

Stevens looked deep in thought, and then pushed all his cards towards Quincy. "If it means putting you ahead of Chris, then so be it."

The head guard had to jump in now, "Wait a minute. Let's think this through. The rules clearly state that any one eliminated from the game has to give their property to the bank – "

"Always wanting to win, Chris. You make me sick." Quincy spat.

"No, really! It's in the rules and regulations portion of the handbook that comes with the game. Give me a moment to produce it – "

But Quincy was having none of it. The three guards were now in a back and forth now, squabbling and bickering.

Janice looked like this was a daily thing. "Don't worry. They're always like this. Give it 5 minutes," she whispered to Fletcher.

Fletcher didn't mind. He was amused even. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"How seriously they're taking the game. Like they need to do everything to win. Especially that Chris guy."

It was Janice's turn to look amused now. "Well, why would that be funny, Mr. Quimby?"

"Because – it's just a game?" Wasn't it obvious?

"That's a loser's mentality, Fletcher."

To Fletcher, that sounded like a weird philosophy to live by. "Who tells you that?"

A knock on the door stopped Janice from answering, and the guards, who had been discussing strategy, fell away to quick silence.

Stevens got up. "I'll get it. And while I'm at it, Quincy – think hard about what I just told you. Trust me, you're going to need Boardwalk."

"Yes – it sounds like an excellent strategy – "

"Boardwalk's so expensive," Chris cut in. "You wouldn't have any money to put up any houses if you trade for Boardwalk." He flashed his monopoly money. "You'd need much more of these."

Stevens said, with horror in his eyes, "Don't listen to him, Quincy."

"You boys are ridiculous!" Janice huffed. "I'll get it."

Chris stood up. He fixed his belt. "No, you won't. I'll get it."

When Chris wasn't looking, Fletcher caught Stevens coaxing Quincy, "Quick, when he isn't looking, take North Carolina Avenue!"

Quincy cocked up a single, interested eyebrow. He looked like he was considering it, when Chris swung the door open to reveal a Japanese woman in her 40's, decked top to bottom in Gucci wear.

Fletcher could tell that the woman was important, because Chris, Quincy and Stevens stood immediately at attention. All casualness was gone – suddenly Fletcher felt very nervous. He always felt nervous around the guards when the guards stood tall and professional like. It made him feel like he was going to get a security frisk again.

"Who's she?" Fletcher asked Janice.

"She's my m – "

The new lady cut across Janice in Japanese. She spoke in entrancing, but edgy tones, and Janice looked like she'd completely forgot that Fletcher was in the room. Her attention was completely on the woman.

Fletcher eyed the lady that had stolen Janice's attention so effortlessly. The way the lady was carrying on, it was as if he wasn't there – yet he was pretty sure that she'd spotted him the moment she entered the room, then turned her head away.

It wasn't before long that the whole room was talking at once. The lady hit Janice with a question in Japanese, and then snapped something he didn't understand at the guards. And then the whole room was abuzz in people talking to and at one another, in Japanese, no less –

And he was in the middle of it – completely unnoticed. He felt that he could easily slip away from the room.

He had an idea.

"Err, you know what," Fletcher said to no one in particular, "I'll let you guys talk about, whatever it is you guys want to talk about – it's so obvious you guys don't need me."

The whole room carried on with their conversation – or more like talking on top of one another - as if Fletcher hadn't said a word.

"Besides," Fletcher said, more to himself, "there's this phone call I've been meaning to make anyway."

Or more accurately, a phone call Fletcher had been meaning to get through. Since he touched down in New York, he'd been calling Chyna, and Olive non-stop, but neither of them had picked up their phone – not even once. Which was strange. It was 10 pm New York time.

There was no way they were asleep…right? Early to bed in the city that never sleeps. The idea sounded crazy.

He slipped out the room, and tried Chyna's number – again. He listened to the phone ring, and just when he thought the answering machine was about to pick up, like last time - he heard the ringing stop, and Chyna's voice, "Hey Fletcher."

Chyna didn't sound at all happy. Already he wondered, did she want him off the phone? He'd hate that. But then, she did pick up. She could've ignored it -

"Chyna, are you ok?"

A deep sigh, on the other end –

"No. I'm not. It's Ol – actually – what are you doing right now? You busy?"

Fletcher peeked through the doorway – he hadn't closed the door behind him – to see Janice still entrenched in a discussion with the woman who he hoped wasn't Janice's mother. He had the feeling the lady didn't like him very much already.

He winced as he heard the two pick up their voices –

"I'm not busy right now. You're at the Diamond right?"

"Yea. I'm in my room - 728.."

"I'll be there."

Fletcher got to Chyna's door in no time at all. Once he got there, he knocked – just twice – before the door opened. It was Chyna who answered, and he wasn't prepared at all for the sight of her.

Chyna looked beautiful. Like usual. Actually, even more than usual. She had on a halter top shirt, heels, with a black jacket on and dark makeup that made her large eyes pop - just a little bit more.

She must've noticed him staring too long, because she explained, "I came from dress rehearsals."

He felt red. She shouldn't have needed to say that. He'd stared too long. He shouldn't have been staring at all! He had a girlfriend! Then he realized, he was still doing it! Take your eyes off her! Take your eyes off her! He told himself as he averted his gaze.

"So. On the phone. You sounded really bothered by something," he said, not quite looking into Chyna's eyes.

"It's not something – it's someone." He heard her let out a deep breath. "Olive's acting a little crazy right now."

"I am not acting CRAZY!" Fletcher could hear Olive shout – she was so loud –that Fletcher chilled. He felt like she was standing right next to him.

Chyna winced. "I didn't mean for her to hear that," she said to Fletcher in a dramatic whisper.

But Fletcher was barely listening as he went around Chyna, and entered deeper into the suite. The place wasn't as large as Janice's suite upstairs – for one thing, it didn't have two floors - but it still looked pretty nice. The moonlight shone in nicely through the windows. He turned back to Chyna. This time he had no problem looking her in the face, when he asked, "Where's Olive?"

"In our room." Chyna nodded at the door, about ten feet to his right. Then, she called out, in a much louder voice, "Which I've been trying to get inside for an hour!" When Olive wouldn't respond, Chyna sounded less angry, and more deflated, "Olive please, how many times do I have to apologize?"

But they didn't hear another peep from Chyna's bedroom. Everything was quiet.

"Wow. What'd you do to get her so mad?" He asked.

Chyna's voice was high, indignant. Her large eyes looked like mini soccer balls. "And why are we assuming this is my fault."

"Chyna, please. Need I remind you about all the other times you got Olive mad? Like the science fair back in our first year at the Ant Farm, or the time she tried to impress the very first boy she liked and you gave her really bad advice – " He laughed. " – Remember when we all went swimming for spring break and you got Olive to pretend she was drowning so you can strike up a conversation with the lifeguard? Remember how that went? And oh, don't you get me started on Valentine's Day - !"

"Okay, okay! I get your point!" Chyna waved off his rant. "I get it!" She put back on a tight smile. "I can promise this time though, that it's not my fault. See, it was A – "

"Who's there?" Olive's voice peeped up again. "Chyna, who are you talking to? I swear, if it's Angus – " The low and threatening tone of Olive's voice made Fletcher back up a bit, behind Chyna. He caught a whiff of Chyna's hair – peaches again – but his mind barely registered that sweet smell.

"Chyna, what did you do? I've never heard Olive sound like that. She sounds like my neighbor's dog when he growls at us, but scarier."

"I didn't do anything!" Chyna snapped.

"Fletcher, is that you?" Olive's voice sounded oddly musical, and honey sweet – a complete 180 from her venomous tone just a second ago.

Fletcher stepped closer to the door. "Yea – it's me, Olive."

"Fletcher! Hey!" The door opened, a bit. "Can you come in?"

Just the way she invited him in – she sounded so quiet, so vulnerable – he knew that whatever she was mad about tonight, that it was about something pretty big. The only question was, what was it?

Suddenly he felt this big, brotherly urge surge up from inside of him. He'd been protecting her since kindergarten. Kind, innocent, Olive –

"Sure." He answered without hesitation. He made to cross between the small gap between door and doorway, since Olive had barely opened the door, when Chyna followed him through –

"Back off!" The volume of Olive's voice made him backpedal right into Chyna –

"OW! Fletcher! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry, Chyna - !"

"Make sure you don't let her come in." Olive said, very calmly, then – her voice broke, just a little, "I just want to talk to my best friend, and only my best friend."

At this, Fletcher instantly snapped his head to Chyna. He saw the hurt look on Chyna, when she said, "Olive, I'm your best friend too."

"Fletcher, please?" Olive said, as if Chyna didn't say a word.

Fletcher stepped inside the bedroom. He found Olive sitting cross legged at the foot of the bed. She gazed at him with round, pleading blue eyes.

Fletcher hated what he was about to do.

He sighed as he turned to Chyna, "I know it bothers you that Olive doesn't want to talk to you. But can you just, give me a moment with her? It'll just be a little while."

He put his hand on Chyna's still shoulder. He could see that Chyna didn't want to go. She kept looking past his head at Olive, who all the while was keeping her eyes stubbornly fixed at the top of the doorway, right above their heads. It looked like Olive didn't even know Chyna was there.

Chyna sighed, "No, it's ok. Take all the time you want." Fletcher saw the rejection in Chyna's large eyes, as she turned to leave.

So Fletcher's first night in New York wasn't going so well. One best friend just left, upset – the other best friend, also upset, was demanding a talk with him - and he was sure that Janice was waiting for him back at her Suite, upset, and ready to let him have it. In hindsight, he realized that it probably wasn't too smart to leave Janice and company unannounced the way he did.

But, he didn't care about all that right now. He had a task at hand here. He had a best friend to talk to, who was sitting in bed right now, hugging her knees to her face.

He was in barely treaded territory here. He remembered doing these kind of things with Olive back in grade school a couple times – she'd get upset, and him, being her only friend, was the default to come and take on all her frustrations and upsets about everything. Since Webster High though, things had gotten a little different.

Chyna had taken over the responsibilities for every important talk with Olive, and Fletcher was always more than happy to let Chyna take the reigns. Consoling sobbing girls was always so messy and confusing, and he didn't understand what he was supposed to say most of the time.

Like now. He just stood there, staring at his bleary eyed friend. Seconds ticked way too slow in the back of his mind, and Olive – god bless her - was the one to break the silence.

"Fletcher," Olive cleared her throat. "How was your flight?"

"Awesome. The plane ride was smooth and I got here in no time at all."

When Olive didn't comment, he plopped himself on the bed right next to Olive –

"That's not really what you want to talk about though, is it?"

It felt like the right thing to say. And he was sure she was about to lay on him something about what Chyna did, and how she was so mad at her and that he needed to help fix things -

"No. I want to talk about you and Janice." Olive answered.

Well, that was a curve ball.

"What about us?" He asked, not seeing where this was leading to.

"Do you like her?"

"Of course, she's my girlfriend," he answered without hesitation.

"No. I mean do you like her?"

"Yea!" He said a little louder this time. Maybe if he was a little more … assertive about it, then she'd stop asking him the same question.

"No, you don't understand. I mean, do - you - like - her?"

This was why he avoided these kinds of talks with girls in the first place. They definitely spoke a different language!

"Olive. What's this about?" He asked, hoping to bring this conversation somewhere down to planet Earth.

And then Olive spooked him –

"Janice's a nice girl!" Olive cried out, so hard and suddenly that Fletcher jumped.

"I know," Fletcher said nervously. "She's awesome."

But that answer did not seem to satisfy Olive. She squinted at him intently. He felt like he was being studied, like some lab animal in Biology. Did he say the wrong thing? Again?

Olive said, finally, "She's a nice girl, Fletcher. A lot of girls didn't think so – heck, I didn't think so – but since that Halloween party, I know different. A lot of people wouldn't have done for me what she did – "

"What? Make you cry? She made you cry that night! She did. I remember!"

"Yea, and you were mad at her all weekend, I remember … but she apologized afterwards! And she made it up to me by getting me my very first slow dance with a boy! She'd been nice to me ever since - wait, she's your girlfriend. Aren't you supposed to be the one defending her to me?"

"Good point. But where are you going with this?"

"My point is. She – she doesn't deserve to have her heart b-broken – " Olive's voice lost strength.

Fletcher sat back down and put a hand on Olive's. Suddenly he knew what to say -

"Like yours?"

"Like mine."

Fletcher sprang up from his bed so fast that Olive yelped, but he paid no mind. "Who did this? Let me at him!"

"Fletcher, you're completely missing the point."

For the first time tonight, Fletcher felt like this much, he understood. "What do you mean? I get it. Someone hurt your feelings. Badly. And now it's my sworn duty as your best friend to avenge you! Olive, who is he? I'll get him! When we get back to the Ant Farm…"

He was getting himself worked up.

Olive yanked him back to the bed. "Slow down, Vin Diesel. Don't worry about the boy. I'll make sure he gets what's coming to him."

Olive's eyes flashed dangerously, and Fletcher was reminded of when Olive got so mad at him, she warned him that she'd take his foot and ram it up his –

"Is it that Johnny kid again? Is he making prank calls on your phone again? Cuz if it is, don't worry – when we get back to San Francisco, I'll get Angus and we'll - "

Olive's eyes then, shimmered with tears. Finally, Fletcher knew.

"It's Angus."

Olive's silence confirmed it for him, and Fletcher felt angrier than when he thought it was Johnny. Johnny was just some stupid kid, but Angus, he was supposed to be a friend…

"What'd he do?"

"Don't worry about it."

"C'mon, Olive."

"No seriously. I just – I just can't."

Olive didn't look in any condition to talk any further. She crawled to the back of the bed and curled on her side facing away from Fletcher, towards the wall. He heard her small voice, "We'll talk tomorrow, Fletcher."

She didn't say another word, and Fletcher took that as dismissal. He left the bedroom, and automatically looked for Chyna. But she was gone.

He wondered where Chyna was, and what was going on in Chyna's mind as he left.

Fletcher knew he was in trouble the moment he closed the door behind him. Janice, who was sitting alone on the couch, snapped her head to lock eyes on him. She looked like she was simmering inside. Her nose, which was all balled up like a rabbit's, flared when she spoke, "Where were you?"

Fletcher flinched a little at her sharpness.

"There was a reason why Chyna and Olive hadn't been picking up all night."

"Oh, and why was that?"

"Olive was upset. Chyna called – she wanted me to help me talk to her."

Janice, who seemed ready to tear Fletcher a new one just a moment ago, only looked mildly annoyed now, "Why was Olive upset?"

Fletcher sat on the couch next to Janice. "A boy."

"Is it that Johnny kid again? I gave that boy a talk months ago. He shouldn't be bothering Olive again."

Fletcher laughed. "I thought it was him too! But nah, it's Angus."

"Angus Chestnut? The same boy who basically worships Olive hand and foot?"

"Yep, that's the one." Fletcher could scarcely believe what he was saying himself.

"What'd he do? Darn kid. I knew there was something fishy about him."

"I don't know. Olive wouldn't tell me." Suddenly Fletcher understood the look of dejection on Chyna's face he'd seen ten minutes ago. He felt it too.

"You're upset. Don't worry – Olive will come around."

Fletcher sank himself onto the couch next to Janice. Janice put her hands on his –

"So you're not upset with me? For me leaving you, when you were – with your mom – " He took a stab at the woman's identity, but the look on Janice's face confirmed it for him, and he groaned inside.

Relationships were always difficult when the parents didn't like you. Cameron had always made it a point of telling him that.

"I was, but that was before I knew you had a good reason. Poor Olive. I should be the one apologizing – "

Just then, Mrs. Takahashi had burst into the room, flanked by Stevens and Quimby, with Chris bringing the rear. Incredibly, she was wearing a different outfit than she had on 30 minutes ago. It suited her even better, but it also made her look more intimidating.

"Mother, you have excellent timing." Janice deadpanned.

Mrs. Takahashi, to Fletcher's surprise, ignored Janice – she was looking straight at him instead, and then he heard her speak English, for the first time all night...

"I'm sorry for the rudeness earlier, Mr. Quimby." To Fletcher, she didn't sound very sorry at all –

"I was just caught up with a few things with my daughter. Just some mother daughter stuff. You'd be bored to tears."

"If it's important to you guys, it wouldn't bore me. What's up?"

Janice gave Fletcher a meaningful look. Mrs. Takahashi dismissed his question.

"Mr. Quimby, not that we don't appreciate your support, but what are you doing here in New York?"

The question was abrupt, but not harshly spoken.

"I just wanted to give my friends support, that's all."

"Friends." Janice's mom emphasized the plural of the word, and he could've sworn he saw her sneak a look at Janice – or was he seeing things?

"Yea. It's not just Janice's swim meet that I'm here to see. Our friend, Chyna, she has a concert – "

"A concert. A swim meet and a concert. How admirable a friend you are, Mr. Quimby, to give up your selection into the San Francisco Art Convention to support your friends."

He didn't know whether she was paying him a compliment or not.

"How, how did you know about that?"

"That's a good question," Mrs. Takahashi said with a look at Janice. "How did I know about that?"

"Fletcher, what's Okasaan talking about?" Janice asked.

Janice's mom whirled to face her daughter. "Janice, I'm sure you know."

"No, I don't." Janice insisted –

She sounded so uncomfortable. Weren't you supposed to be relaxed around your own mother?

Mrs. Takahashi gave a dramatic sigh, and announced, "Mr. Quimby was invited to a very special art convention, held in San Francisco once a year, and it just so happens that it's going to be held two nights from now, on the 13th."

"Fletcher, is this true?" Janice asked.

Fletcher hesitated. "It's true."

Janice surprised him with a very hard slap on his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Fletcher Quimby! When were you going to tell me about this?"

"I don't know … now?"

Another hard slap.

"Ow!"

"That's a lie and you know it!" Janice said.

"Ok, ok, ok." He took a step back from Janice, and turned his smarting shoulder away from striking distance. "I probably – wasn't – it wasn't in the plans to tell – but I didn't want to make you guys feel bad about me missing my convention."

"Well, you are doing a very bad job at succeeding."

"You weren't supposed to know! … I'm sorry. It's just, I wanted to be there for my friends, you know?"

Janice's face softened, a little. "It's still not right – what time does the convention start?"

"5 pm Pacific Time."

Janice and her mom exchanged looks.

Mrs. Takahashi said to Fletcher, "That's 8 pm ET. Janice's swim meet is at 1."

"That's perfect!" Janice exclaimed. She turned to her mother, "Okaasan, would it be ok – I know that it would cut our stay in New York a bit short – but can you book us flights to San Francisco, right after my meet, so we can get to his art show on time?"

The smile on Janice's mom's face made Fletcher uneasy. She gestured to Fletcher, "Well, that's completely up to Mr. Quimby."

She looked at him. "Would you like that, Fletcher?" She used his name for the first time. "You can make the most of your day – attend my daughter's swim meet and at the same time make it to San Francisco before your art show starts."

Fletcher didn't hesitate to say, "I can't. I'm glad that you guys are giving me this opportunity to make it back in time, but 8 pm – that's when Chyna's show starts."

The smile on the elder Japanese lady did not slip. In fact, it broadened –

"I knew you'd say that. Loyalty. It's a quality I admire in people. It's a shame though, I hear that Adrian Renard is going to be at the show, and that he plans to award college scholarships to artists whose paintings he likes."

Fletcher had not known this. "I – how you'd know this?"

Mrs. Takahashi said, with a dismissive air, "I know certain people. I keep in touch. Anyway, is this an opportunity that you're willing to miss?"

Well…Fletcher couldn't say no.

Everybody had left the Suite then –

Where to, Fletcher didn't know. He wasn't listening to Janice when she explained.

He really only had one thought in his head, as he sat alone on the couch -

About Chyna Parks, and how he was going to break the bad news to her.

The end to this chapter was probably predictable. The rest of this story...hopefully not so much? Idk.

The next chapter should be up by this weekend. The chapter after that...by this week. After that, I'm not sure. Because like I've said, I haven't written a thing in a while. LOL.

I'm sorry. =(

-Go10