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13 February 2010 @ 09:35 pm
FIC: Location Temporary (Crossover, Rashida Jones/Jenna Fischer, PG-13)  
Title: Location Temporary
Author: Aphrodite_mine
Info: Massive crossover staring Rashida Jones and Jenna Fischer in various forms. Fandoms are NY-LON, Walk Hard, Parks & Recreation, Blades of Glory, The Office, LolliLove, I Love You Man, and RPF. Various ships are Edie Miller/Darlene Madison, Ann Perkins/Katie Van Waldenberg, Ann Perkins/Leslie Knope, Karen Fillippeli/Pam Beesley, Jenna/Zooey Rice, Jenna Fischer/Rashida Jones.
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual situations


Location Temporary

waking up in winter snow

New York – January

The store is spotless, which is more than you can say for Shawn. It’s more than you could ever say for Shawn, really. Too bad he’d probably hunt you down and drag you back if you tried to quit again—that week off was sort of nice, aside from the rampant heartache and endless jetlag. And you wouldn’t mind not being involved in shit like this--faulty resurrections of long-dead record stores.

“Seriously, Shawn, who in this fucking city is going to come see a washed up Country-Folk singer who isn’t even going to perform?”

To which Shawn had held up a finger—for silence—and simply said “They will come, Edie, and I don’t think I asked for your opinion in the first place. Do your job.”

Fuck your job. Just… fuck it.


An hour till the ‘event’ and Dewey-fucking-Cox hasn’t shown. You’re checking the clock on the minute, pacing the shop (not like a crowd is building outside, but damnit, you’re going to do your job). A cab stops outside, and you perk up, thinking maybe—just maybe—this won’t be a giant fuck up like everything else in the past few months of your life. Of course, it’s a woman. You exhale violently, and turn to the counter to double check your notes.

Three raps come at the front door, and you snap to attention. “We’re closed,” you shout, walking to the door. You point at the sign, visible to the other side, advertising the Dewey Cox signing and Super Sale. “Come back in an hour!”

The woman presses her face against the glass and shouts in to you “Dewey’s sick! I’m his wife!” Her breath is fogging up the glass. You stare at her for a moment, waiting while she finally drops her hands, looking really idiotic in a neon-colored parka. You flip the lock, open the door.

“I guess you better come in, then.”


Darlene, as you obviously should have already known, is not only Dewey’s wife, but his oft-times co-performer. Shawn is ready to blow his load, and you aren’t sure if its because he’s so excited to be in the company of a great or because he’s missing out on the company of an even greater. He flutters around while you finish setting things up—a table for Mrs. Cox, “Please, call me Darlene, or Ms. Madison”—a bottled water, a last run through of the store before unlocking the door for the ones and ones of people ready to come in.

Eventually Shawn has to retire to his office. He looks ready to pass out. Darlene takes it all in stride, easing her parka to the back of her chair. A customer checks out with a Bowie album, asks who she is, and Darlene launches into an explanation spanning several decades. “And then it was time for the riotious 70s—“ she begins, taking a breath, and sensing an out, the man drops his change and bolts for the door. You’re somewhere around amused, but afraid to laugh until she looks up at you and you see it was her intent all along.

I guess we drove for twenty days

Pawnee – May

“It is completely vital that you attend this conference, Ann.”

“Really, Leslie?”

“Really, Ann.”

“And you aren’t just using government money to pay for me to come along and keep you company? Because I really can’t miss work. Carla is on pregnancy leave, and the hospital is—“

“Pshh Ann. Have you ever known me to abuse government funds?”


“And did I not just say that your attendance is completely vital?”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts!”


“I will see you at your house on Thursday morning—at six AM. Pack some tunes.”


Somewhere in Kansas – May

It was definitely not vital that Ann attend the conference, but it was pretty vital that Leslie have a second driver for the sixteen hour drive—saving money on plane tickets that she was now spending on Ann’s conference fee. They would also bunk up. “Cause that’s cool, right?”

Ann switched CDs, causing Leslie to wake up, groan and switch it back. “Where are we?”


“Ew. Kansas is boring.”

Ann decided not to pursue that one. “If you’re going to sleep, can I choose the music?”

“But I can’t sleep if you play that stuff. It’s too peppy.”

The road stretched out in front and behind. “Can you take a turn driving, then?”

“You’d better take Kansas. It’s too boring for me.”


Denver – (Still) May

Also the conference was about zoning, with a special speaker on hosting community-inclusive activities. Nothing about parks or pits or lots. Okay, the special speaker did mention parks but more in the “already-existing” capacity. Ann really tried to go to some sessions on zoning. Leslie had this whole chart made up where she and Ann would go to different sessions and then exchange notes and report back to the department back in Pawnee, but it was just… really boring.

And she wasn’t being paid.

And it was a really nice day outside.

And… she really wanted an ice cream cone. Okay, so, she got that idea after leaving the conference, but those details weren’t really important.

“The peach nougat is really good.”


“The peach nougat is—“

“No, I heard you, I just. I wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to me, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, I just, I like ice cream too. Just a friendly recommendation.” The other woman twined her hands in her purse and looked down.

Ann smiled. Leslie would be doing something ridiculous right about now, like commandeering the stand and demanding free ice cream, or shouting from a megaphone.

“I’m not really in the mood for peach. Any recommendations with chocolate?”

Her face brightened. “Oh, of course.”

dive into the sleep that’s waiting

LA – July

If Sydney was going to be… Zooey hated to even say it, but there it was… Peter’s best man, then they were going to need a location that allowed for some serious bro-age. Because, like it or not, things got crazy when Peter and Sydney got together. That was just something that Zooey was growing to accept. And Peter would have to deal with the girl sleepover nights. The ones she hadn’t told him about yet, but figured he wouldn’t really have much of a problem with, as long as she let him walk by casually once in awhile.

But, whatever. That was the bachelorette party, and then well after the honeymoon. Far from the matter at hand. Which was location, location, location. And outdoors. It wasn’t awesome right now, but Zooey was trying to be zen and picture everything in a few weeks when the breeze came in from the north and the sea and she could have flowers and fans and her hair done up and wear that dress—finally—and Peter—her husband--would behave, at least until the ceremony was over, and then, they would have the best party ever, and everything would be fabulous.

Once she found the right place.

Which… didn’t appear to be this park. This park, which Zooey remembered from childhood, now seemed to be overrun with crazy people. And the homeless.

“Would you like to help us distribute love to the homeless people?” An over-eager woman in a shepherdess costume approached Zooey and held out a basket full of lollipops.

“Yeah, those are lollipops.”

“Exactly!” She beamed.

“I don’t get it.”

“No, of course not. The homeless do.”

Zooey decided that she needed to get away from here as quickly as possible. There were plenty of parks in the city. And indoors might not be so bad.


She doesn’t leave. It’s nice and shady there, and Zooey finds a really good bench where she can see a wide expanse. There’s the little man-made lake with ducks and children, the spread of grass, the old trees and the new ones sprouting along the paved pathways. She watches the strange woman giving out candy, she can’t help it.

Zooey is pretty sure that the homeless people don’t like being given lollipops, it isn’t too far of a stretch of the imagination. But the smile the woman gives each time she extends an arm to one of the hobos kind of makes Zooey want to join in, to abandon her search for the perfect location, at least for the rest of the day, and hook up with this crack charity.

As long as she doesn’t have to wear a goofy costume.

The woman sighs, looks up, waves.

Okay. Maybe even if the costume is included.

you’re nowhere

Scranton – August

I’m almost done packing. I hardly even un-packed, so this is easier than is should be. A lot about this is easier than it should be. Harder, too.

Of course, a lot of my months here have been about Jim, and Jim and Pam. And Jim, and any other way he connects to things here. If I were fifteen years younger, and stupider, I would have gotten his name tattooed on my arm, or my ass, or somewhere equally horrible and horrible because it, of course, wouldn’t be removable. And a lot about these past few months already feels like I can’t wash it off.

And I’m leaving it now. I’d say it feels good, but I’d be lying.


It’s too early for the movers to be here, so I don’t even know why I go to the door. Maybe I’m secretly hoping for an apology—a last minute knee-begging apology from anyone, anyone who mattered, anyone who gave a damn.

So I answer the door, and I don’t slam it in her face when I realize that it’s Pam, and not Jim, or—I don’t know—anyone else on the entire planet, standing there.

“Hi,” she says, and her voice is a quiet and small as ever, but I like it, it’s nice.

And it’s strange, because after everything I kind of forgot that she was my friend. Through everything. Despite everything. …Because of everything?

I lean against the open door frame, and it’s suddenly like a scene from a movie where she’s going to say something and I’m going to say something and then our bodies will be really close and our mouths will be against one another’s and there won’t even be a breath before one of us pulls back, blushing.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, shaking my head.

“I brought you moving cookies. For energy.”

She holds up a baggie, tied with a ribbon. It looks like chocolate chip.

“Thanks.” I take the bag, touch the outside. “What kind?” It feels important to keep the conversation going.

“Chocolate chip.” She says, looking down. Clears her throat. “With raspberry.”

I’m glad I’m leaning against the door.

She looks soft.


I’m leaving today. It’s not minutes after Pam backs out that the movers pull in.

I need to finish packing. I guess I’ll eat the cookies on the drive north.

back at home the stars are fading

Acapulco – October

“Lee would totally shit if he saw you right now.”

“Um,” Jenna laughs, “a lot of people would shit if they saw us right now.”

“Think it’d be the rock climbing, the marijuana or the making out that sealed the deal?”

Jenna scoots back from the cliff face, brushing her hair away from her face. “You didn’t say anything about illegal drugs, Rashida.” She’s joking; the quirk in her lips is a dead giveaway. You like the little things that you know about her, still.

“Mmm. But I did tell you about this.” And you kiss her, for the first time on top of a mountain, but far from the first time. Her lips are still soft, like you know them to be, like you dream about them when she isn’t around. Your mouths are dry from the climb, but its okay. There is a satiation that waits within each of you, dragging on each breath of wind.

“I like it when you tell me things,” Jenna says, when you pull away, lean back and stare, squint-eyed at the sun. Everything feels so much closer here.

“I think you might be getting a sunburn. I better cover you up.”

“I like that too.”

“I more-than like it.”

Oaxaca – Still October

“You registered the hotel under Jim and Pam? Way to be subtle.” This is Jenna, trying to be angry. There’s a tiny mark between her eyebrows, a wrinkle of frustration. But you find it ridiculously cute, just like everything about her.

“I couldn’t use Pam and Karen. That would just be begging to get caught.”

You realize you’re being cheeky. You’ve been cheeky since the two of you flew out of LAX.
That changes, once you get into the room—Jim and Pam’s room—in the downtown of Oaxaca. There’s a balcony over one of the busy streets, and you watch Jenna step out on it, pushing through the long curtains, her silhouette sending shivers through you.

“How come we can only be ourselves when we’re pretending to be other people?” she asks, her voice coming in through the street noise. “I mean, even now—we can’t exactly broadcast that we’re here, and together.”

“That’s how Hollywood works. You know that.”

She steps inside, tugging her shorts down. “Is it wrong to hate it, sometimes?”

“Only as wrong as what we do.”

“Meaning not at all,” Jenna lifts an eyebrow, drops her shorts.

You bite your lip and then hers. “Exactly.”
Mary: TO;kapam_going downbebitched on February 14th, 2010 05:11 am (UTC)
LOVE. IT. (Even though I haven't seen half these movies so I have no idea what's going on.) This is a really creative idea, and extremely well-written!
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zep1980zep1980 on February 21st, 2010 08:12 pm (UTC)
Very cool idea/story. Like bebitched, I only really know a couple of fandoms (Parks & Rec and The Office), but even so it was well worth reading.
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It's a secret.livelovebelieve on September 15th, 2011 09:28 am (UTC)
UM. Jenna/Rashida?? MIND BLOWN. So glad you wrote this. Great work!
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