"Intelligence" Crossover Fic

[white-lady-111.livejournal.com]

This idea came from watching three episodes of Deadwood during the week leading to the return of Intelligence from the Christmas hiatus. Since that crossover would be terribly impractical (if not downright impossible), it turned into a kind of Intelligence/Catch and Release RPS fic. Basically, Timothy Olyphant's latest movie was shot in Vancouver, which brought him to Jimmy Reardon's turf.

This will be a series called Catch and Release (or So She Said).
Fandom: Intelligence FPS/Catch and Release RPS
Pairing: Jimmy Reardon/Timothy Olyphant
Summary: An evening at the Chickadee with the boys turns into a whole lot of trouble for Timothy Olyphant.
Rating: Let's say R for this chapter, Tim's language has been greatly influenced by his time on Deadwood.
Disclaimers: The fictional characters are not mine, they belong to the nice folks at CBC (we would be thankful if they left them on the air for the many years to come). The "real" people portrayed in this story are obviously complete fabrications of my twisted mind and bear no resemblance whatsoever to the actual persons who have the same names. Don't sue, I mean no offense and I make absolutely no money from this.
Warnings: Contains Real People slash, the fictional use of actual living people as characters in the story. If this offends you, don't read. If it offends the moderator, feel free to delete this post. Also, I don't always finish my series, so this is WIP and might remain unfinished.



Strip club. It might not have been such an uncomfortable prospect if Kevin hadn't brought it up in front of Juliette. Not only did she insist on coming with us on an outing that was originally planned as a "guy's night", but she also invited Jen along. Nothing better than to look at half-dressed women humping a metal pole with you two female co-star, I always say.

I glare at Kevin once more as we stumble out of the cab in front of the club. Of course, being the most corpulent member of the group, he got to ride up front with the driver while I ended up squeezed into the back door by Sam and the two girls during the twenty minute ride from the hotel. He blatantly ignores me.

I fight down the annoyance I always feel at being scanned with a metal detector. At least now nobody remembers enough about me to joke about psychos with knives, that was a few fucking uncomfortable years. Things are much better now, I get to be called a cocksucker by pretty much everyone who recognises me without the mustache. Welcome to fucking Deadwood. It can be combative.

The doorman leers at Juliette, but Jen has her patented spy scowl in place so he backs off pretty quick. I'm blind for a few seconds by the darkness inside after the brightness of the neon sign. By the time my eyes adjust, I can tell the place isn't the dive I pictured when Kevin first suggested it. In fact, if it wasn't for the stage at the far end, it would look like most of the pubs we've frequented the past few weeks.

Juliette picks a booth in the corner - not too close to the stage - and we settle in with plenty of space to spare. A beautiful blonde wearing a more conservative low-cut short dress than the strippers mingling with the other patrons comes by to take our order. Kevin tells her something that seems much more elaborate - and secretive - than his choice of drink before she walks away with a concerned frown.

I'm halfway through my third beer and over the embarrassment of openly watching the strippers - Julie's running commentary of each performer's skills and looks was enough to put me at ease - when Kev waves at someone entering the bar somewhere behind me.

"She's a good dancer." Julie remarks between mouthfuls of beer. She absent-mindedly licks her lips, then the single drop of beer gliding down the neck of her beer bottle.

"Hum-mm." Jen agrees, her eyes also glued to the current performer, a beautiful dark-skinned woman I think they called Sweet. "You know what I like about this place?"

She leans forward to address Julie who's sitting on the other side of me. Sam is looking jealous as hell of my position, lounging between two gorgeous currently bisexual - that's how it goes in my head anyway - women.

"What?" Julie asks, putting a hand on my thigh for balance as she also leans over me. She's easily into her fourth beer.

"Their breasts are real." Jen cups her own breasts to emphasize her point. I lift my eyebrows at Sam, who shakes his head in disbelief. "None of that balloon thing they all have in L.A."

"You girls habitually frequent strip clubs, I take it." Sam comments.

Jen shakes her head, Juliette pouts, then they both burst out laughing. I notice somewhat belatedly that Kevin is now standing a few feet from our table, in conversation with someone I'm fairly certain isn't from our film crew. Unless I've been slightly more self-centered than usual lately. They seem to come to an agreement just as I turn to them, and the stranger walks away.

"Guys, lets go to the V.I.P. room upstairs, I have a surprise." Kev says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the stairs his acquaintance is climbing.

"Ooh, think we can get a private dance?" Julie asks, stumbling out of the booth. I think we should probably have stopped for dinner on the way here, a party girl like her shouldn't be this affected by four beers.

We file rather noisily up the stairs, Jen clinging to my arm and the wall for support. I remember now we were told Canadian beer is stronger than what we're used to. I can tell it's true from the cottony feel of my legs when we finally reach the third flight of stairs.

Kevin's mysterious friend is fumbling behind the bar when we get there, he gestures for us to make ourselves comfortable and we all ignore the central table to sit on the couch and armchairs almost hidden in a corner. The blonde waitress brings fresh beers for all of us, sets them on the low table in the middle of our improvised circle. There's a short melee as we all reach for one at once.

"So, guys: food?" Kevin suggests. A chorus of "yeah", "please", "now you're talking" and my own enthusiastic "about fucking time" answer him. "Right. Phone?"

His friend points to the bar and I transfer my interest to him, trusting that by now Kevin knows our order of chinese food better than his lines. The man is difficult to describe, and I absolutely can't read him. He's slightly unnerving, he has a presence that is so much greater than his height and bulk warrant yet I feel more relaxed than before. His features are pronounced and fine at the same time... I give up trying to size him up, let out my breath in a puff and smile at my confusion. His eyes fall on me and he smiles with a slight snort as if he knows what I'm thinking.

"I'm Timothy Olyphant, by the way." I start in an obvious prompt to learn who he is and to cover my uneasiness. "We better introduce ourselves I guess since Kev seems to have misplaced his manners."

"Jimmy Reardon" He takes my extended in his smaller one and shakes it warmly. The sly smile never leaves his full lips.

"Do you own the club, Jimmy?" Juliette asks in her sweet, plaintive voice, cranking the charm up by rubbing her thighs together and leaning forward to offer a better view of her cleavage. Jen snorts at the obviousness of the move, almost choking on her drink.

"In part." Jimmy replies, thoroughly unmoved by her display. I can't refrain my undoubtedly smug smile at her disappointed pout.

"That's Juliette Lewis." I point out, then continue around our little circle. "Sam Jaeger and Jennifer Garner."

"Now that the introductions are made and the food on it way." Kevin starts. He produces a plastic baggie filled with weed. "Look what Jimmy was nice enough to give me."

Jen's mouth makes a quiet "oh", the rest of us are much more vocal in our appreciation. Jimmy looks on indulgently as Kevin, Juliette and I - obviously the more experienced in these matters - begin to roll the impressive amount of pot into joints.

"It's good stuff, too." Kevin says, breathing deeply. "Double A. Can't get this in New Jersey."

Jennifer's eyes get larger as the grass disappears into the little rolls of paper. She's the first one to see the delivery boy emerge from the stairs and she hurries to him, obviously hoping he doesn't notice the gleefully illegal work going on. She's so bubbly and talkative I suspect the guy will think she's high whether or not he sees what we're actually doing. When she brings the food to the table, we have returned all the joints to the baggie save one. Kevin lights it while the rest of us dig through the bags and hand the food around.

Kevin inhales deeply before passing the spiff to me and diving into his sweet and spicy soup. I take a long puff and hand the joint to Jen, who takes a more experimental inhale then hurriedly hands it to Sam before impaling an egg roll and taking a large bite. I lose interest in the joint's progress when I smell my curry chicken, only noticing that Jimmy also partakes at Kevin's urging. We consume food and weed pretty fast, and although there is plenty of both left on the table we put the rest of the chinese aside for later - we'll need it in a few hours - and don't light another joint, yet.

"Feels like high school, doesn't it?" Juliette says, lying on her part of the couch. More beer was brought up without my noticing while we ate and I've lost count of how many of the bottle littering the table and the floor I actually drank. Jen looks pensive, curled next to her with Julie's legs on her lap. Sam and I are sitting on the floor with out backs to the couch, Jimmy and Kevin each have their own armchair.

"Except then we'd be playing truth or dare by now." Jen remarks dreamily.

"That's not a bad idea." Kevin says in a way that makes me immediately think he hopes this will end with the girls making out together.

I know it's not only a bad idea but a very bad idea. I find myself outnumbered and much too mellow to actually walk out on their stupidity. Jimmy is still smiling his indulgent smile, like he's the only responsible adult in a room full of stupid kids, and agrees to play. I tell myself I'm staying in the hope the girls will make out, all the while wondering where the wisdom acquired during the twenty years elapsed since high school has gone. But when I hang my head in surrender it's the image of Jimmy's indescribable eyes that's burned behind my eyelids and not Kevin's vague fantasy.



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