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Fanfic: Ryan and Micki Make a Porno (Smootch!)

Chapter 1: Crisis and a Reunion

Ryan and Micki Make a Porno (smootch!)

author: Pepperstasia Beaverhausen
rating: NC-17, butofcourse
categories: Weird-Ass MRR, Humor, alternate universe, multiple character crossovers, slight slash, just for fun. Ryan POV
spoilers: eh, sorta. Post-Lloyd, 1st year timeline, fer shur
summary: A five year high-school reunion and a Curious Goods financial crisis lead our two heroes to extreme resolutions, hence the title.
Author's notes and the Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, 'cept the weirdness. And even *then*...Micki, Ryan, Jack, et.al are the property of Paramount, Mancuso and Williams, Robey, John D. LeMay, Chris Wiggins...you get the idea. I don't get paid shit. The theme of this story was fully inspired and ripped off from the movie "Zack and Miri Make a Porno", which is the property of Seth Rogan and View Askew, and if they want to sue, I'll offer 'em a blowjob or something. That'll work. I was also wondering as to how the Shopcrew dealt with their financial situation, seeing as they did have to shell out some dough to buy back some of the objects, although most of the time they were on a straight up jack-move mission. Acknowledgements for character crossovers that do not belong to me are as follows: Conrad Shepard and Andy Botwin ("Weeds") are the property of Jenji Kohan, Elliot Stabler ("Law and Order: SVU) is the property of Dick Wolf, Audrey Horne and Laura Palmer ("Twin Peaks") are the property of the great David Lynch, Dana Scully ( "X-Files") is the property of Chris (most awesome surfer hunk) Carter, and Hank Moody ("Californication") is the property of Tom Kapinos, David Duchovny, and another guy who isn't me. Anyway, it seems like I have Baz Luhrman syndrome lately with my fics, but when you get inspired, why not just roll with it, right? Party on, Dudes. No infringement intended, this is just me having fun.


"I choked Linda Lovelace" ~Joe Dirt T-Shirt

"Thanks for being my wingman tonight, Micki." I say as I bustle around our budget motel room in Chicago, "Though *why* I'm even wasting my time on a five year reunion is beyond me." Yes, there's my socks.
"You're welcome." she calls from the bathroom, where she's set up shop, "And why not? We're here anyway, and we got the money clip back, which means 'mission complete'. The fact that your five year high school reunion is tonight is a coincidence worth acting on. I'm dying to hear what you were like as a teenager from a third-party source."
"Ha ha." I retort, "At least there's an open bar. I feel like celebrating and we can't afford *any* extras right now; I can't believe that guy wanted five grand. Five Grand!"
"Look on the bright side, he may have been driving a hard bargain, but at least the curse didn't have a hold on him." Micki says to me as she emerges from the butterfly cocoon she constructed for herself in the john, looking pretty butterfly-esque herself in a gauzy one-shoulder strap dress in gray and yellow splatter hues. She does a little spin, "Do I do you justice?"
I nod and give her a whistle, "Maybe with you on my arm, they'll forget that I couldn't get a date to save my life for the Prom, and that I used to play D&D." I straighten the linen lapel of my tan two-piece suit, going for the "Miami Vice" with an art shirt look this evening, "Then we can divide and conquer. Who knows? Maybe that cheerleader I used to like will be there, and single." Toni Coleco. Man was she hot.
"As long as we're in between objects, maybe we won't put any potential 'interests' in harm's way; so it should be safe." she smirks, half-joking, although what we do doesn't really allow for that statement to not be taken a little seriously. In our occupation, the way of cursed object recovery is the equivalent to nookie kryptonite. It would be nice to just get through a one night stand without putting anyone in harm's way. Here's hoping.
"I should call Jack back before we leave." I remember, "The desk clerk said that he called while we were out."
"I hope everything's all right."
It's been really slow on the sales side these days, and buying back these last few objects has been tapping us out. We're down to maybe four hundred in our company account, and we're about two months behind on all of our bills. Curious Goods has hit a financial skid, but it's nothing we can't get out of.
"*I* hope he's called to tell us he sold one of our bigger ticket items." I counter, picking up the reciever and dialing out.

Jack: Curious Goods.
Ryan: Hey Jack. Callin' you back before we grace Lincoln's Class of '83 with our presense.
Jack: Ryan! (heavy sigh) I'm afraid the reason I called is a serious one; do you have any of the money left that you two travelled with?
Ryan: 'Bout Thirty bucks of it, why?
Jack: We've been served, my boy. Amongst your Uncle Lewis' legacy, apparently 20,000 dollars owed in back taxes to the IRS was one of them. They need us to pay at least half of the amount owed by Tuesday of next week or we face repossession.
Ryan: This is not good, Jack. We just had to blow five g's on the money clip. Any customers on the line?
Jack: Afraid there's been nothing but dustbunnies and Rashid to keep me company. I haven't seen a customer in here all day. We'll keep optimistic, however.
Ryan: We can't lose the store, Jack! That would be a catastrophe! Who knows what would happen? All that work, all those people...
Jack: I told you, we'll keep optimistic, won't we Ryan? Things have ways of working themselves out. In the meantime, I'll keep the home fires burning and try to put in a few calls to some friends. I'll let you know if anything develops. Say hello to Micki for me.
Ryan: I will. (sucks in a deep breath) G'bye, Jack.
Jack: Goodbye, Ryan.

I hang up the phone and turn to Micki with a grave look, "This is not good."
She's sitting on her hotel bed, sliding her gray peep-toed pumps onto her feet, "What's not good?" I don't want to shatter her calm, but when I tell her, it invariably happens. "Where are we possibly going to come up with ten thousand dollars in the span of six days? Or *more* than that, even? What if Jack finds that lightbulb he's been tracking and *they* want money too? I guess it won't even matter if we lose the whole thing, will it?" You have to hand it to Micki, the girl can freak out with a blue streak. She's even hyperventilating a little, "This blows. It's hopeless."
I feel that she needs a hug, so I give her one. She breathes a bit into my dark brown art shirt and visibly calms. "Nothing is hopeless. Remember that. And Jack said that he'll make some calls." I soothe her, "See what he can do."
"He did?" she mumbles against my shirt, sucks in a breath, and looks up, "I think we need that open bar now more than ever." she exhales, face still a bit tense, but better.
I nod in agreement, "I think you're right. Onward to the open bar!"
Before we go any further in this tale I am taking you into, I think it would be prudent to get some back story on the kind of relationship that Micki and I have. It's crucial to the storyline and you may understand us a little better. I like her and she likes me, it's obvious. We're cousins by marriage only, and we just met each other for the first time when we inherited the store that we run together from our dear, sweet, devil-worshipin' Uncle Lewis. He left us a hell of a mess to clean up with all the cursed objects that he put out there for us to chase down. We've developed a pretty decent working relationship out of the insanity, learning a lot about one another in the ten months or so that we've been living together, and we're as comfy as can be around each other. It's easy to hang out and kid with Micki. I even got her to start reading comics. No shit. Never would have pegged her for that when I first met her; she seemed uptight, and all she wanted to do was leave and get back to her jerk fiancee, Lloyd. Man, what a douche that guy was. She broke up with that asshole a few months ago, and I couldn't be happier. I mean, we'd be hanging out, talking or laughing at something funny we were watching and then he'd call with his "King of the Bringdown" shit and more often than not, hang up on her and leave her crying. I am *too* happy that's over now. I would never hang up on a girl like her, I don't care how mad at her I thought I was. Which brings me to the other thing about us. She's gorgeous. Not just beautiful, mind you, but like, *make you sick* she's so gorgeous. I had always been partial to the brunettes in the past, but she's washed my mind red. Every time I see another redhead now, I perk up. Seriously. Yeah, so Micki. Long curly red hair, check. Wide-eyed and achingly innocent face, check. Seductive face, check. Mile-long legs, check. Constantly braless and pert rack, check. All over bodacious curves, check. As you can see, I'm in a bit of a pickle. I like her, but I also *like* her. But it's been friendship and that's all since the beginning, and that's most likely how it will stay. She only likes me, and that's okay by me. She's my best friend, that's good enough. We rely too much on each other for the greater good to allow me to make it weird by telling her that she turns me on. I'd rather not.
Besides, she's gracious enough to make it appear like I can score a babe as posh as she is, so who am I to complain? Tonight, I am gonna be *The Man*, and it's the only reason why I would waste my time at a five year in the first place. Shit, I didn't even want to go to my *Ten* year high school reunion. I am curious to see if a couple of my old D&D buddies are going to be there. Me, Conrad, and Elliot were like peas in a pod on Saturday nights, battling dwarves and elves til the sun rose.
All I really want to do is temporarily forget for a few hours that we're about to lose the whole kit and kaboodle if we don't come up with ten grand. Fuckin' Uncle Lewis. What a dick.
I digress, because we've arrived at the hulking structure that is my old high school. Go Knights, rahrahrah. I left Lincoln five years ago and never looked back, but here it is. Same old shit. Different day. Micki and I link hands and snag the obligatory nametags from the class valedictorian, Perry Mitchell, an asshole who thankfully had no idea who I was. Let's just say that we didn't run exactly run in the same circles. Luckily, Lincoln was a pretty big school. It's easy to get lost in the fold.
"Is that Ryan 'Geldorf' Dallion?" I hear a bold, hearty voice behind me, "Holy shit, did you come into your own, or what?"
I turn around and am surprised instantly, "Elliot 'Tarragon' Stabler! Jesus fuck, you buffed up!" This is not the wimpy little AV kid I went to school with. Elliot got ripped, and grew into his looks, I guess, "What are you doing now?" I ask him, trying to ignore the way he's blatantly checking out Micki. It's knee-jerk. I don't blame him.
"Training for the Police Academy." He replies, punching my shoulder, "What about you, Dungeonmaster?"
"I own an antique store with this pretty lady you're drooling all over. Might as well get introductions out of the way. Micki Foster, this is my pal Elliot Stabler, future police officer."
Micki gives him an approving look and offers him her hand, "Nice to meet any old friend of Ryan's." she says as he comically leans down and kisses her offering. Valentino as fuck.
"Not as nice as it is to meet you." he answers as he lets her hand go, "Dallion's a lucky bastard." He turns to me, "Conrad's at the bar, you want to go catch up?"
"Conrad Shepard's here?" My jaw drops. I was hoping he would be, but my doubts were high. Even as a self-professed knucklehead kid, he was still too cool. It never ceased to amaze me that he even *played* Dungeons and Dragons in high school.
"Who's Conrad Shepard?" Micki asks as one of my arms moves around her waist and we follow Elliot's lead.
"Only the smoothest Brother Mage up in this bitch!" I hear another familiar voice come from another buffed up, manly old pal at the bar. Same face on Conrad, except a little more handsome now, and he's shaved his head bald, leaving a shiny chocolate pate that only adds to his stud factor. Five years does a lot; my two formerly nerdy, scrawny friends have morphed into men that are making the devastating redhead at my side drool a little herself for once, "Ryan, you ain't trying to call a brother? Where you been?" Conrad notices Micki and takes a step back, looking her up and down, "Je-*sus*. Brother, I am sorry. Question answered." he pats my shoulder, then takes Micki's hand, "Conrad Shepard, all *over* you. Think about it."
"Hey Dick, what the fuck?" I smack his shoulder and give him a look. Micki is beyond amused to the point of blushing and for some reason this pisses me off, "Don't you even want to know her name, first?"
"Don't you believe in mystery?" He retorts, smoothing a wrinkle around where I hit him.
"Micki Foster; thinking about it." she introduces herself, "And mystery's for suckers, in my opinion."
Conrad does another animated jumpback, "I *gotta* order you a drink for that. Lookin' good, Dallion. What'll you guys have?"
Elliot slaps Conrad a five as I answer, "What do they got? I want to get a little toasty."
Micki nods in agreement, "As do I."
"Root Beer Barrels!" Elliot exclaims, "They have those, and they'll get ya fast."
Conrad waves a finger, orders with ease, and they appear in front of us almost immediately, "Where you at these days, Geldorf?" he asks me, "I mean, aside from bringing the finest piece of woman up into this reunion, that is."
"We live out west; we inherited an antique store and have been running it for the past under a year together." I say to him, making sure I emphasize the words 'we' and 'together', "What about you, Brother Mage Elgin? Your threads are lookin' spendy; so what's your business?"
We take a pause to slam our root beer barrels on Elliot's three-count before Conrad continues, "I'm doin' films now, paht-nah. Shit, I thought you'd have your own comic book started, Ry-D. Who'da thought you'd be a proprieter?"
"Films?" I interrupt him, "Jump back, you're in movies? And Elliot's going to be a cop." I shake my head, stunned. A lot can happen in five years, but I guess I should know, "Anything I've seen? Are you acting, writing, producing..."
"Slow up on the line of questioning, we have all night." Conrad laughs, taking note of my shock. He knows he just dropped a bomb, Gap Band style, "I *have* been acting, but I've decided to extend my hand more recently into production. I'm positive it's nothing you've seen." he adds with a smirk.
"He deals in the International market." Elliot chimes in with a glint in his eye, "Get you another drink, pretty lady?" he addresses Micki, who has been 'til now standing at my side and taking it all in. She smiles in affirmative.
"I thought for sure, if anything, that the roles would be reversed, and you would be workin' a camera somewhere, El. You *lived* in AV Club." I motion for the next round of drinks and settle in for catch up time. The Geek Squad made good. Who would've thought?

 

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