In collaboration with the amazing Kendra L Saunders, we got together to see what would happen if two of our most eccentric characters meet each other. This tells the story of how Ricky came face to face with an Alien Popstar....
Events take place just before Skin and Bones and After Dating an Alien Popstar.
He wished with all his goddamn might that his brother had been the first-born son, because Seamus would be so much better at ass-kissing than him.
Ricky took another slug of his pint. Perhaps he should’ve gone to Josephine’s tonight, but with Derek slightly off kilter from the impending full moon, Ricky sought out the comfort of being anonymous in a human bar. Better that, than to be surrounded by creatures who could scent his emotions. The Edge bar was located just at the cusp of the supernatural quarter, and Ricky had been overjoyed at how empty the place was when he rocked up. Anger coiled in his stomach. The storm that brewed inside him caused his magic to simmer just below the surface, begging to be released.
Even thinking of his favourite red-head tech did nothing to dampen his temper.
Draining the pint glass, he tipped it towards the barman, who returned his gesture with a curt nod. Tapping his toes along to Black Sabbath, Ricky scrubbed the rough stubble on his chin. He slid the barman a fiver and lifted the glass to his lips just as the door to his right burst open. A group of people strode in, but Ricky barely spared them a glance as he continued to drown his sorrows.
Their voices carried throughout the bar: one a high-pitched declaration of disappointment that he could not see the edge, the other a woman’s voice, trying to reassure him that they were in the right place.
The trio sauntered up to the bar, and Ricky almost choked on his beer when he caught sight of the rainbow of fashion disaster that stood next to him. Dressed in dark floral print bell-bottom style trousers, a rust coloured shirt hanging open so far that it gave Ricky a shuddersome view of his chest, and a huge chunky eyeball pendant necklace... wait, were those heeled boots?
Is this dude serious? Ricky mused as he eyeballed the little weirdo. If Bowie and Elton John had a kid, this is what it would look like.
Letting his gaze wander, Ricky sussed the wierdo’s entourage out. The dude to his right, who must be his minder, was dressed subtler than his floral wearing friend. He wore skinny black jeans, black dress shirt, and a black leather jacket. This man could fit in in this dive of a place. His face was pulled a little too tight with worry, a state Ricky sensed was common for him when in the presence of his eccentric friend.
Ricky's eyes roamed over the beautiful blonde, who kept a reassuring hand on the little weirdo’s hip. Dressed in a vintage Bowie t-shirt, and a very short black skirt, her heeled boots only elongated her already long legs. She caught Ricky’s admiring glance and while she returned his smile, she tightened her grip on Elton John’s man child.
“We have come in search of The Edge!” Floral pants announced to Jimmy the barman in a well to do English accent.
“Well, this is The Edge,” Jimmy replied without the barest hint of a smile.
“He means that he’s looking for The Edge so that he can find Bono,” the blonde piped up, her American accent a stark contrast to her companion’s regal tone. She sounded slightly embarrassed, though she stuck close to the man's side.
Ricky let go of a snicker, the trio turning their attention to him as Jimmy walked away, shaking his head in consternation.
“Do you know where I can find Bono?” Floral Pants asked.
“Sure, he’s probably out saving the planet with Bob Geldof,” Ricky snorted and took a slug from his pint.
“Dev! Did you hear that? Did you hear that, Dev? Dev? Dev. Dev. I didn't know that Bono saves the planet as well.”
Ricky held back a groan. Is this guy from like another planet or what?
“Sure,” Ricky said, sarcasm slipping through despite his best efforts. “Him and Geldof have formed a squad called Band Aid and they travel the world trying to end world hunger and provide clean drinking water. They're probably aiding in tax evasion as well.”
The blonde girl stared at him. “There’s no need to tease him. He’s not from around here you know.”
Ricky snickered and ran his eyes over the elaborately dressed male. “Figured as much.”
To be honest, Ricky half expected Mulder and Scully to storm the place and whisk all three of them away…He had seen some strange things in his life but…
The bodyguard, or possibly boyfriend, what the hell did he know, of the little wierdo stepped forward and addressed Elton John’s man child in the same regal tone. “Griffin, I think we’ve come to the wrong place. Let’s move on.”
With a pout of his lips, Griffin, who looked as if he were just about to throw a massive toddler tantrum, replied, “But Dev…” His voice trailed off and he began to have a conversation with his male companion in a language Ricky was pretty certain they made up. He stole a glance at the blonde, who let her lips curl up.
“They do that a lot,” she said. “Nothing to worry about. Not many people speak their native language.” As she spoke, her voice got a bit higher and her words more rushed. “They just slip back into it sometimes. You know. Finding comfort in the familiar, all that.”
Interesting. Something in her seemed to have switched from cool, detatched blonde babe to nervous handler in a few seconds. What was going on here? Ricky extended his hand to her. “Ricky.”
“Daisy. Hi.” Her handshake was plenty firm, even if she seemed a bit jumpy.
“Is he seriously looking to find Bono?”
Floral pants swept up to him. “Of course I am. I want him to sing with me on my new song.”
Ricky's eyes roamed over the man once more and everything clicked in to place. Rock musicians had never been associated with subtle, tasteful fashion, that much was for sure.
“So you’re a singer? Cool…I’m not sure I’ve seen you before though,” Ricky said.
Daisy narrowed the gap between her and Floral Pants, and he slipped an arm around her waist in response, melding them together. “He's sort of famous in the States. Maybe you heard of him... Griffin Valentino?”
The name was vaguely familiar and something tugged on his memories. He spared a thought back to watching Lanie dancing around with her headphones on in the squad room when she thought they’d all gone home for the night. He remembered how embarrassed she'd been when she'd spotted him studying her, those ivory coloured cheeks reddening. He'd walked over, pulled the headphones off her pretty little head, and slipped them on his own head. Shortly afterwards, he'd removed them and given her a teasing lecture about proper music. And here he was, standing in front of the guy that Melanie claimed was amazeballs!
“Dude, like seriously. My gir- I mean my friend is a massive fan of yours.”
Griffin tilted his head and beamed at him. “And you?”
With a chuckle, Ricky told him. “Nah, I worship at the altar of the Gods of Rock: Grohl, Rose, Young, Cobain, Ozzy…Not much for pop music.”
Griffin clapped his hands, startling Ricky just a tad. “You must come to my next concert! I can change your mind. Bring your friend and maybe then you’ll worship at my altar also!”
He looked so enthusiastic that Ricky hadn’t the heart to say anything other than okay.
The lights in the bar flickered as Jimmy indicated last call. Ricky gulped down the rest of his pint. The trio were looking at him expectantly and he felt compelled to give them some little bit of assistance. Goddam him for being good police.
“Listen,” he began. “If you're hell bent on tracking down Bono, then you’d probably have better luck in Dublin, right around Temple Bar.”
Daisy, obviously the most normal out of the trio, narrowed her gaze and watched him. “Are you messing with us? I need to get Griffin back home to his pla- I mean home. I need to get him home for his own safety.”
Ricky snorted, having a quick look around the empty bar. “I’m afraid love, that your loverboy is grand and safe, well safe ish round here. Not many 1D groupies gonna be roaming these streets. But I promise that I’m not gonna BS you. Bono and the boys own a hotel in Dublin and a recording studio. They’ve been known to do unscheduled appearances round there, so that’s the best place to maybe catch a glimpse.”
Griffin, who Ricky likened to an excitable puppy, jumped up and down before grasping Ricky in a surprisingly strong bear hug. Seriously, dude was much, much stronger than he looked.
Jimmy gave them an exasperated look as Ricky managed to detached himself from Griffin and ushered them outside into the cool night air. The two men didn’t seem to feel it, but Daisy shivered, obviously not adjusted to the stark Irish autumn wind.
Griffin bounded off down the street, Dev quickly following after him. Daisy gave him a little smile and made to hurry after them.
Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved.
But imagine if Melanie knew you had let one of her fave popstars go without getting even a contact number…plus, if there’s a news story of some weird little dude in floral pants killed by bikers in Temple Bar, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Daisy!” Ricky called after the blonde. She turned back to face him as he strode up to her. Taking out his wallet, he plucked a card and handed it to her. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Yeah, yeah. I know I don’t look much like a cop, let alone a Special Agent. Look, your boy seems like he could get into a lot of trouble left to his own devices. Any trouble while in Ireland, give me a shout. Alright?”
“You sure? I may have to take you up on that.” Her smile was genuine and it made her look even more beautiful... but he did prefer red-heads. A certain one, to be more precise.
Ricky gave her a slight incline of his head. “I’m sure.”
Daisy tucked the card into the ass pocket of her jeans. “Maybe when he’s not in one of his mission modes, we can come back and have a look around properly. I’ve never been to Ireland before.”
“Ring me first and I’ll make sure I’m not in the country,” he teased, and easy smile tugging at his lips.
Daisy glanced over her shoulder at Griffin, a look of love plastered on her face that smothered Ricky with jealously. “He grows on you though. Hang out with him for a few days, and pretty soon you’ll be the best of friends.”
“Wanda! We must go!” Griffin called, and waved to Ricky. “Goodbye new friend, thank you for your assistance!”
Ricky let out a burst of laughter. “Wanda?”
“It’s a pet name…
“I so understand that. Alright, well... See ya later, Daisy.”
Ricky remained where he stood on the pavement as he watched the trio disappear around the corner. Shaking his head, he mused that if he had encountered them after a few more pints then he’d chalk it down to beer buzz. A couple passed by him, Ricky listening as the girl said, “I mean like I’m pretty sure that was Griffin Valentino!”
“Yeah, right. What would he be doing in Cork?” the boyfriend said.
The girl shrugged her shoulder. “He’s an alien popstar. He can do what he wants.”
The couple wandered down the road and Ricky mulled over her words. Alien? Was Griffin really?
Barking out a laugh, Ricky shook his head. Nah, no way…but stranger things had happened. Derek would never believe him for a second…
Meeting an Alien Popstar would definitely be something Ricky would never forget.