FIC: All I ever wanted

[ally-pops.livejournal.com]

Hello all!
I have actually started to write a multi-chaptered fiction. I know! I am trying ever so hard to write chapters lengthy enough to post. I have actually ended up combining two chapters into one, so there you go!
Thank you a million Molly, my beta, my PIMP, my cyber buddy :)
Beta by: Molly :) (Plus Silver Hat)
*Gives cookies and drumsticks*
glitterglue_21
Please may I have a tag? Thank you :)
Cross Posted to wliialove
Title: All I Ever Wanted (Chosen by the awesome Molly)
Chapter: 1
Pairings: None of yet. Wait and see.
Characters: Ryan, Greg, Dan. No Colin yet. Hahaha. Hahahahha. Bwahahaha.
Rating: Nothing naughty... yet :)
Disclaimer: I do not own. Sorry Ryan, Greg, I know this isn't real.
Notes: Haha let's see how this turns out then. Enjoy. Comments would be lovely.


Chapter One

The sun shone down on the bitterly cold scene, desperately trying to warm up the chill that was now enveloping the city with promises of never letting go. Ryan pulled his scarf a little tighter round his neck, shuddering in the breeze. Quickening his step, he cursed the British weather. Why was it so goddamn cold in the middle of March?
He looked up at the sky. A few wispy clouds were scattered across the otherwise blue sky, and a lone aeroplane flew low in the sky. The trees around him started swaying as a gust of freezing wind blew past him, urging him on. Ryan looked at his feet and started jogging until he reached the studio.
As he stepped inside, Ryan buckled with the overwhelming heat that was coming from the radiators. He stepped back, wondering just how high the heat was on. Shaking off his jacket and his coat, he set off nervously down the corridor, not sure of where he was going. His head started to swim slightly with the sudden change of temperature, so he stopped and leant against a pale yellow wall.
“Mr Stiles?” A nervous voice came from behind Ryan. Spinning around, he nodded. “That’s me.”
“Mr Stiles!” The voice sounded relieved now. “Where on earth have you been?”
Ryan studied the man. He was short, bald, had a pointy nose, and small eyes.
“I was walking here, I got a little lost I suppose, I’m not from around here…” Ryan explained lamely.
“Obviously,” the man said sarcastically. Ryan frowned.
“We need to talk, just sort a few things out,” the man continued, oblivious to Ryan’s discomfort. He motioned into a small room.
“My office.” Ryan gulped anxiously and made his way into the room. He sat down on a straight, hard backed wooden chair, whilst the man remained standing. The office smelt of tobacco mixed with a musky scent that Ryan couldn’t name.
“Right, Ryan- may I call you Ryan?- I’m Dan, Dan Patterson.” Ryan looked around at Dan. “Myself and Mark- Mark Leveson, you’ll meet him later- have been running a small TV programme called ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway?’. Have you ever seen it?”
Ryan shook his head slowly. “I’ve not been in Britain before, you see.”
Dan nodded knowingly. “Yes, we have yet to conquer America. Which is why you are here. To make the show appeal to the Americans.”
Ryan nodded. “Only a few shows, though, yes? I mean, this isn’t going to be permanent is it?”
“Not really,” Dan replied. “We have a few American’s on periodically. Like Mike McShane. Just to get the ratings in America up.”
Ryan frowned. “So I’m here just to get the ratings up?”
Dan didn’t seem to notice Ryan’s hurt. “Essentially, yes. But we noticed you through ‘Second City’. We would probably want you on the show anyway, regardless of your being American. That’s just a bonus. We would really like you to stay on long-term, but as your agent explained, you’re obviously not looking for that.”
Ryan thought of his wife at home. “No, no I’m looking to return home as soon as possible.”
“Right, well I think that’s all. You obviously know how the show works, if you’re agent was good enough to explain. Your dressing room is through there, we’re going on air in about two hours. Just relax.”
Ryan nodded absent-mind idly.
“Just one question, Dan?” Dan looked back around. “Is Greg Proops working today?”
Dan smiled. “Yeah, he’s one of our Americans that decided to become long-term. Do you know him?”
Ryan grinned. “I know him.”
* * * *
Ryan straightened his tie nervously. He pulled his sleeves down but his wrists were still bare to for everyone to see. For god’s sake, why the hell was he so gangly? He cursed himself and his tall, lean frame. He pushed his nose inwards and tried desperately to make it smaller and less noticeable. It didn’t work. His sweaty hand tried to pat down his hair but it stubbornly sprung back into place. He stepped back and examined his overall figure in the mirror. Maybe his father was right, maybe the mullet looked silly. He resolved to have his hair cut. Maybe his mother was right, maybe the suit was too small. Well he couldn’t afford a new one at the moment, could he? That was the only reason he had taken this stupid job- to get some cash. After he had done a few episodes, he would leave and find a normal job. Making people laugh was easy- and he wanted a challenge.
All in all, Ryan wasn’t looking forward to his new job on ‘Whose Line is it Anyway.’ It had got off to a bad start, what with him having to leave Pat, and now everything seemed to be working against him.
Well, hey, at least it wasn’t permanent.

Two slim, dainty hands covered his eyes.
“Come on, big boy, you’ll be fine. You look gorgeous. As ever.”
Ryan spun around to see Greg smirking. His heart lept.
“I’m a bloody mess, Greg, how can you do this…”
“Easy. And so can you.” He held out his hand.
Ryan placed his sweaty palm into Greg’s.

He was putting all his trust in this man.
A man he hadn’t seen in years.
*

“Hello and welcome to Whose Line Is It Anyway, the show that makes Eastenders look over rehearsed. I’m Clive Anderson, and on the show tonight…”
Ryan heard his name mentioned and looked up at the camera, smiling the best he could. The camera swept on to Greg, who saluted cheekily. The camera continued, so Greg looked at Ryan and gave an encouraging smile. Returning it with a grimace, Ryan looked at Clive who had already started to introduce the first game.
“…. In this game, Ryan will be the host of a party and Greg, Mike and George will be guests. Unfortunately for Ryan, these guests all have some strange quirk about them, and Ryan has to guess what it is. I’ll bring you all in one at a time. Whenever you’re ready, Ryan.”
Ryan stood transfixed. Ryan’s agents had explained the games, of course, but Clive’s short briefing was less than he expected.
Take control, Ryan told himself. You can make people laugh, no problem. What is this if not a glorified Second City? He breathed in deeply. Turning to the audience, he mimed pulling out a CD player and blowing on it.
“It’s, it’s, a ballroom blitz… and the man at the back said everyone attack and turn it to a Ballroom Blitz! Ballroom Blitz!”
Accompanying his singing with little, absurd dance moves, Ryan soon had the audience in stitches, with even Clive letting slip a little giggle. He smiled to himself.
The doorbell sounded from Clive’s direction, and Ryan ran to open the imaginary door. George stepped closer to Ryan and started screaming, before ending abruptly.
“Sorry I’m late, Ry…”
Ryan jumped in straight away. “You’re scared of me, you’re the most frightened man I’ve ever known!”
Clive sounded his buzzer. “That’ll do, yes, you got it… Bit too easy, but there we go!”
Ryan felt a kick from the improvising and looked around the studio at the audience. His heart started beating ferociously. He hadn’t felt this good since he had smoked a spliff in college, the kick was like drugs, coursing through his veins and making a huge grin split across his face. He noticed a couple sitting in the second row, laughing along with the rest. He noticed a pair of men holding hands near the back, giggling with each other. He noticed a whole family in a row, rolling around and laughing loudly. Excitement flooded through his body. He was the cause of all this laughter! Without even trying too hard, Ryan had caused laughter. He shook himself and felt new confidence building up within himself.
He started dancing again to Ballroom Blitz. The laughter started again.
“I said no music!” Mike McShane stormed on stage.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Ryan replied sheepishly. He knew Mike was only improvising but the man intimidated him. He was talented, and he was the rival American.
Mike looked slightly taken aback by Ryan’s response and offered a small smile. Ryan relaxed a little.
“What is this, food?” Mike continued, his stern face coming back. “I swear to Dickens…”
Clive let out a little chuckle.
“…. You kids had better behave, or you won’t be riding with me anymore…”
Ryan clicked what Mike was improvising.
“I’m sorry, jeez, I didn’t know bu-“ The doorbell rang again. “-Hello!” He ran over to open the door to Greg.
“Hi Ho! Shake hands with the host and make for the food!” Greg sang, his nasally American tone echoing through the studio. He gripped Ryan’s hand and shook it firmly. He smiled at Ryan, who suddenly felt a rush of gratitude towards Greg.
“Have you met the man who drives the school bus?” Ryan yelled, pointing at Mike. Mike grinned and returned to his seat. Buzzing with excitement, Ryan turned to Greg who grabbed his hand and started dancing in circles.
“Get hoe-down!” Ryan joked. “You’re the best, best square dancing caller I’ve ever met!”
“Yes, yes!” Clive called, sounding his buzzer. Greg beamed at Ryan and leapt back towards his seat.
“Don’t think I’m mean, but I’m giving 7 points for that. Lets carry on with a game called….”

* * * *

“Oh man! That was amazing!” Ryan babbled. Greg nodded.
“It’s a nice kick, isn’t it?”
“Sure is!” Ryan jumped up and down once on the spot. Greg raised an eyebrow.
“You look like you’re high.” His voice was tainted with amusement. “You were good out there, Stiles, well done.”
Ryan grinned sheepishly. “Thanks, man, you were awesome, you always are…”
Greg put one hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Right, lets get you into some jeans and head out for a beer. My treat.”
Ryan nodded excitably and together they set off down the corridor towards Greg’s office.
“Ryan!” A sharp voice carried down the corridor. Ryan turned around to see the short figure of Dan hurrying towards him.
“Dan!” Ryan smiled. “That was so fun- I love it!- Thank you so much for getting me to do-“
“Yes. It was good. Well done.” Dan cut him off mid sentence. “The only thing is, Ryan, you didn’t do particularly well in one game, did he, Greg?”
Greg looked up from his shoes. He had been trying to stay unnoticed.
“What?”
“Party Quirks!” Dan carried on impatiently. “You guessed those far too easily! It was not very amusing, the audience prefer someone like Greg to do it, someone who doesn’t guess it straight away.”
Ryan felt his face fall. His stomach started to knot up. This had happened before… one negative comment was all it took to bring Ryan down from a high. One negative comment was enough to make all self-confidence fall away. One negative comment was enough to return Ryan to his former, vulnerable self. This had happened on Second City, that’s why he left. I’m shit. I can’t improvise. Those people weren’t laughing at my jokes… they were laughing at me, at my awful improvising. Now my career on Whose Line is ruined, the boss thinks I’m shit…
“Hey, fuck off, Dan. Ryan did it quickly, who cares? I think it shows that he is a damn slight cleverer than the likes of you, or me, who it takes a while to guess these things. Give the guy a bloody break! He was fucking fantastic.” Greg pushed past Dan and pulled Ryan along with him.
“Greg,” Ryan whispered, his eyes wide.
Greg stopped. “Yeah, Ry?”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, it was all true man.” He smiled. “It was all true.”