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Chapter Text

September 1991

“Who asked you?”

You were sitting in your uncle’s office. In front of you shone a metallic plaque: Frank Jones, Music Manager. Yep, Frank Jones, talent discoverer and manager of several bands for a famous record company, was your uncle. Well, no blood linked you and for some years, no contract either: he divorced your aunt when you were sixteen, but you still talked often and he was by far the most normal person in your family. You had chatted a bit but when the discussion stopped, you waited. As much as you loved him and you knew he loved you, he wouldn’t make you come on a Friday morning at his office in the middle of London to talk about the weather.

He lifted his head from a paper. “One of the bands I manage may have serious problems. Def Leppard, you know?”

You nodded.

“Two months ago, the bassist of the band received a death threat. Well, I’m not hiding you that no one got scared at first, because it was one letter among others. He didn’t even talk about it. But… let’s say, more talkative letters arrived, signed by the same person. He started to suspect something, cause apparently it wasn’t the first letter from this person he received, but they weren’t about a matter of life or death before. Added to that, it appeared he received several kinds of gifts from this person.”

He closed his pen. “During a meeting, he finally aboard the subject and it turned out two other members of the band received weird letters too, talking about a pretended relation between the bassist and the writer.”

You nodded. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you started to get interested in it.

“I hired a bodyguard of course, but prevention is better than cure; we need to know who it is and stop it.”

“What about the police?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He raised his fingers to imitate quotation marks: “It happens with every remotely famous people, in some months it’s done, it’s a phase, we have more serious things to carry about.”

You could see the annoyance on his face. “y/n, I can see it’s particular. You’ll see when they are there.”

You checked your watch. The band had to come at 2pm for the meeting. It was 2.30.

You sighed. You hated people that couldn’t arrive on time.

“What did you tell them?”

“It’s simple. You’re a psycho expert, you work with the police. You’ve been deferred by them to us to try to find out who threaten them like that.”

Indeed, it was simple. And true… well, a year ago.

“y/n listen to me. If you manage to lead this to an end, it could be good for your image and even be good when your case will be analysed. You could start to work at the police again and be what you wanted to be.”

Your conversation got cut by a knock at the door. “Come in!”

Four people entered the room and proceeded to the centre; you and your uncle got up. He took you by the shoulders: “y/n, let me introduce you.” He dragged you to them, and turned to the band. “Guys, here is y/n y/l/n, my niece. She works at Scotland Yard and will help you out with the stalker.” You waved. The first two people of the line in front of you waved back and smiled. The third eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms. The fourth seemed to have zoned out.

Frank pointed at the first man: “This is Joe Elliott, the lead singer of the band.”

The man made a step and opened his arms to take you in it. You moved his messy blond hair from your face when he took you in and let out a scoff of surprise. Hairspray smell filled your nose.

He let you go and said: “People who Frank love are my friends. Welcome!” You smiled. “Thank you.” Well, he seemed nice.

Your uncle scoffed and passed behind the second guy: “This is Rick Allen, the drummer.” He was shorter than the others; his hair was gathered in a bun. You recognized him; some years ago, he made magazines front pages with the car accident he lost an arm in. You always admired him for carrying on.

He reached out his hand and you shook it. “Nice to meet you.” You both smiled at each other. He seemed as nice as Joe.

Your uncle carried on. “Here is Rick Savage, the bassist. You can call him Sav.”

You reached out to shake his hand, but he kept his arms crossed. Well, less nice… He moved his curly bang in a movement of his head and turned to you uncle: “Really Frank? It’s a serious thing, where is the police?”

You felt your cheeks heat. Your interaction – if we could call it like that, seen that he didn’t address to you – lasted for ten seconds, but you already hated him. You straightened and said coldly: “I know what I’m doing, it’s not my first time. And could you please look at me when you talk about me?”

He turned and raised an eyebrow. From the corner of your eye, you saw the two others exchange an amused look.

“Believe me Sav, you can rely on her. And y/n, there is one other guy in the group, by he’s not here today.”

Joe spoke: “Phil has just become a father, so he took holidays. He didn’t receive anything. He’s gone with his family in the south of France, so I presume he’s good. I guess it’s not that important if he is not there.”

Sav threw a look at his bandmate: “Are you gonna put our lives on display in front of a stranger? Really?”

The singer rolled his eyes: “Don’t start Sav, she is literally going to spend a lot of time with us and we’ll have to tell her things so…”

The bassist frowned and crossed his arms.

Your uncle coughed: “And the last person today, this is Charles. He is the band’s bodyguard.”

You shook hands. You knew appearances were deceptive, but couldn’t help but judge the guy. He was potbellied, and not-so-young for this physical job. You couldn’t help but throwing an interrogative look to your uncle.

He avoided it and said: “Guys I think it’s time to explain.”

You spent the next twenty minutes learning and talking about the case. The three rockstars had brought letters they had received, and the least you could say was that you weren’t expecting that. It was worth an American movie: words were written with letters cut in a newspaper, and were very descriptive on what the writer wanted to afflict to the bassist. Pictures of him were glued on it. The letters they brought were the last in date, and charming patterns were drawn on it. You would have liked to read the first in date, but the message was clear. Your uncle evoked weird phones calls.

“Do you remember getting called by the same number prior to the letters?”

Rick and Joe exchanged a look and dove in their thoughts; Sav chuckled and took a chewing gum: “We receive hundreds of phones calls every day. If we have to look if a number repeats itself…”

You clenched your fists. You agreed your question was a bit useless, but you didn’t like the way he was talking to you.

At all.

It has been now a bit more than two hours that you were in the same room, and electricity was rising between both of you, you didn’t know why. The noise of the bodyguard eating his sandwich beside you brought you back to reality.

“Here is what I think. This is a story of erotomania.”

Sav popped his chewing gum and raised his eyebrows. You took a deep breath and prevented yourself from throwing your pen at him.

“Someone, somewhere, is persuaded Savage here is in love with her. Or him.”

Joe and Rick sat straight in their chairs. You noticed the bassist gulp: “It’s not-”

You cut him with your hand. “It’s a syndrome. Don’t try to find a reason for it. The stalker thinks it’s a secret, and that you communicate with him or her by gestures, coded messages… All types of languages that both of you are the only ones to understand.”

The three of them looked at you intensely. Sav seemed to momently forget his depreciation towards you, and Charles stopped eating.

Your uncle was observing the scene from a little further.

“The stalker returns this love he thinks you have for him to you with gifts, letters… But that’s where things get heated. In front of the lack of response from you, in the best scenario, the stalker understands it as another way to hide your secret relation to the world, and continues.”

You scratched your head. “In another scenario, the delirium evolves in harassment, as we have now. Letters for Joe and Rick are a way to reach for you because he doesn’t manage to.”

Sav gulped. Joe asked, voice slightly higher than usual: “Is there another scenario?”

You looked at him and breathed. “Well… Let’s say that the second scenario can badly evolve.”

Three pairs of eyes wide open waited. The bodyguard looked at you too, mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth. God, they really wanted you to say it?

“Crime of passion.”

It felt like everyone in the room held his breath. Joe scratched his head and made a weird face.

“Bullshit.”

From all possible reactions, this one was unexpected. You blinked and looked at Sav. His bandmates did the same. “Where are we, in an American show?” You didn’t know what to say. “Listen, it’s serious. It has already happened, and if you don’t want things to end badly…”

He cut you: “This…” He pointed at Charles. “…bodyguard is already following me everywhere, and there is no question you will.” He crossed his arms.

You turned around the table and went next to him: “Savage, I never said I was going to move in with you and nurse you. This is his job.” Charles lifted his head from his sandwich under the sudden attention towards him. “I just want you to give me everything you received from the stalker and stop this person.” You crossed your arms. You still didn’t understand why he acted like that with you.

Joe cleared his throat and said: “Sav, this is… a team job.”

You smiled at him. Thank you.

The bassist got up. Your faces were only some centimetres away. “Yeah, but no way I team up with you.”

“Sav, stop now.” Joe has stood up. You were taken aback. Some seconds passed where you both eyed each other, nose nearly touching. You then turned your head towards your uncle, who was a little further. He blinked at you, surprised too.

You took your coat, and headed to the exit. Before opening, you turned: “See you at your funeral then.”

Chapter Text

Sav opened his eyes, awakened by the low rising sun of winter. He stirred. His night hasn’t been long; Joe and Rick came to his house after the meeting of yesterday to eat, and left late. They tried to avoid the subject, but after speaking about the next album since the start of the evening, the singer approached it, what soon pissed the bassist.

“I don’t like her.”

His bandmates turned to him: “No shit. Did you see how you talked to her? Relax, man.”

“And we saw her not even two hours straight.” The drummer carried on: “She is literally going to save you from death.”

Joe and Rick scoffed together and Sav bit in his sandwich out of anger. “It’s just… I don’t want another person to follow me like a dog and comment on all of my movements.”

Since the increase of the letters, your uncle insisted on the bodyguard he hired to follow him by car everywhere, and to stay in his car in front of his house during the night. He couldn’t say anything against him, he wasn’t that invasive, – maybe not enough for the job – but the idea that someone was watching on him only was very unpleasant. Well, a second, added to the stalker.

Rick shared a look with Joe. “Is it just for that? Or is there another reason?”

He sighed to the last-night memories and passed his hand through his messy hair, moving back the sheets on him. He hasn’t anything to do today, maybe he could go back to sleep-

He sat back straight.

The stairs.

He swore he heard the stairs crack, and there wasn’t any reason it would.

What if it was…?

Then someone knocked. Someone just knocked at his fucking room’s door, in his fucking house, while a fucking bodyguard was supposed to do his job. The knocks repeated. It sure was the politest thief.

The bassist didn’t move nonetheless. The last ten seconds were damn absurd. The person knocked a third time. And to add to the absurd of the situation – he still didn’t know why he did that by the way – he said: “Yes?”

He couldn’t believe what he then saw.

You opened the door. “Good morning Savage.” You planted yourself in front of his bed. He mindlessly put back the bedsheets in front of his chest. You scoffed in front of the gesture: “You know, if I was the stalker, you would have been dead right now.” You mimicked a gun and feigned shooting.

He stayed mouth opened, looking at you. You turned to his window and started to check the mechanism.

Sav seemed to reconnect to the reality; his surprised expression left and anger took him. His cheeks turned pink. He got up, the bedsheet falling in a brushing noise on the floor, and went next to you, in underpants. You didn’t look at him, still studying and pushing here and there at the window, trying to find a weak point. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out; he simply didn’t know where to start. You suddenly pulled somewhere harder; the window opened itself alone… and dangled miserably on the outside. You threw him a proud face; his fell. You reckoned it was a bit too much for the poor boy at 9 in the morning.

You put back the window enough for the cold not to enter the room; but it was now… broken. The point you wanted to make could have been done in another way, but he didn’t want to listen to you so… you had to show him.

He was still looking at you, speechless. You started to have a bit of pity for him. You took the little packet hanging on your belt: “I bought the breakfast if ever.”

“You bitch.”

Oh, okay.

“Sure, Imma keep those pastries for me.”

He was shaking from a mix of anger and cold: “You know how it’s called? An illegal intrusion. I’m calling the police.”

You shrugged.

“Savage, listen to me. You don’t get it?”

You stopped his way to the phone by coming in front of him.

“We can enter in your house like in a windmill. I know I know some tricks, but still.”

He sighed. His expression was still closed, but he stopped his way to the nightstand. At least you won’t be arrested. “Can you please leave me ten minutes and go downstairs? I don’t have to show you the way.”

-

When he came down the stairs, you were writing lines in a notebook. He went right behind you and extended his neck to try to see what you wrote; the strong smell of hairspray made you cough. “Oh my god Savage, I’m sure you’re responsible for the gap in the ozone layer.”

He took a step back and pouted. You carried on writing and advanced to the kitchen, where you put your notebook flat on the counter. Sav followed you close – what pissed you off a bit – and put a finger on your notes, asking about it.

You pointed at it with your pen: “This, is what you’ll have to change in your house for your security.” He scoffed and headed to the coffee machine.

“No way I’m doing all of that.”

You threw him a look. “Savage, I don’t know if you’re getting the serious of the situation…”

He filled a cup and turned to you: “Honey, listen.” He approached you and put his hand on your shoulder, like to a child. And you hated that. You didn’t want to listen to anything.

You pushed his hand that was on you and planted your eyes in his as coldly as possible. If literally breaking into his house wasn’t enough to prove your point…

You were about to answer when someone opened the door. Both turned. It was Charles, the bodyguard. “Sav, did you know your door wasn’t locked?” He entered, and closed the door. “There are letters for you. Oh, hi y/n.”

You waved. “Slept well in your car, Charles?”

He turned red, and you grinned.

“Did you… Did you break my door too?”

“No, I traversed the walls, Savage.”

“I swear-”

“Oh!”

You turned again to the bodyguard, who just let an expressive gasp. “Look. The stalker.” He handed you a paper but Sav took it before it touched your hand, what made you roll your eyes.

He sat on a high stool and unfolded the paper. He eyed it for ten seconds and put it on the table. He was whiter than usual. “Ok, I might consider what you wrote in your notebook.”

-

“No shit!”

You laughed. Joe continued: “I swear to you y/n, I never saw a girl throwing her bra so far on the stage before.”

You shrugged and drank your beer.

This morning, after showing Sav and Charles every weak part of the house, you were about to leave

when Rick and Joe showed up. They greeted you like an old friend – to Sav’s annoyance – and proposed you to stay and eat with them. Normally you would never have accepted to nearly invite yourself in someone you barely knew’s house, but you took a guilty pleasure to piss Sav off and accepted.

You were sat on the floor, eating at the living room table with Joe and Rick, who were telling you stories that happened to them on tour. Sav was sat on the couch behind Joe, pissed, to not change. Seeing him pout like a child was a bit funny, but you didn’t want to push things too far. If Joe and Rick came today it was certainly because they had to work, and you didn’t want to bother them. You got up: “Guys, I’m leaving, you’ve got things to do and I’ll study Savage’s letters, so…”

By the corner of your eye, you saw Sav’s traits loosen a bit in front of the beautiful perspective of your departure.

Joe got up too: “I accompany you.”

You kissed Rick and waved at Sav for the good measure. Joe waited for the door to be closed to start: “You know, don’t take Sav’s attitude towards you personally. It’s just that…” He sighed. “Last time a remotely same situation happened, it didn’t end well.”

You gasped: “You mean he has already been threatened?”

He let out a scoff: “No, I meant the last we worked so closely with a woman, it-”

You stopped him. “You mean he treats me like trash because last time a woman approached him, he’s got his little heart broken?”

Joe rose his shoulders: “Well it’s… Well. You know… It’s a bit summarized, but…”

You rolled your eyes. “If the stalker knew he is a drama queen…”

Chapter Text

Papers were displayed on the floor of your uncle’s office. He asked you to come, for a “point”. It has been some days that you haven’t seen the boys – not to complain. Well, of course Rick and Joe were nice to you, but you couldn’t bear to see Sav. At least you now had a little explanation of why he acted like that with you, but damn, that wasn’t a reason. You were thankful that your job didn’t ask to be with him, and if you had some questions about him, you could always ask the others. You were sat on the floor, chewing your pen, thinking heavily. The stalker had to be arrested, but it was difficult to find out who: he won’t show himself like that, and if he decided to, well…

Better not think about it.

Frank was at his desk, working. You were scratching some notes on a sheet of paper when the door opened; the three musicians entered. Sav was the first; he passed in front of you without considering you and went to greet your uncle. You scoffed and got up to meet Joe and Rick, a lot nicer with you, as always.

The three of you joined the main desk. The lead singer spoke first; “Is it about the Netherlands?” You frowned. Rick, next to you, said in your ear: “In two days we leave for the Netherlands to record our new album.” You nodded, understanding his question now, but not seeing why you were there then. You thought it would be a meeting to make a point about the case.

Your uncle cleared his throat: “Yeah, it is.” He took sheets from his briefcase. “There is just a new thing that I have to tell you; there is an evening where the hotel would like you to sing, guys. Don’t ask me why, but when I said yes they were really glad.” Rick scoffed and crossed eyes with Sav. Frank raised his hands in disbelief. Joe laughed: “I just hope the old people won’t have heart attacks in front of our guitars. The age average of this place is…” He made gestures with his hands.

The boys started laughing together but your uncle continued and handed them papers: “Charles is coming with you, I just booked your five rooms. Here are your train tickets.” They all reached their hands out and took it but Sav stopped his movement. He frowned in concentration and said: “Wait a minute… Five? But…” He turned to his bandmates and counted on his fingers. “Joe, Rick, Charles, me…” He looked at your uncle, four fingers raised in the air. The manager passed his hand on his bald head and confirmed what you had already guessed for some seconds now by looking suddenly at you. Joe and Rick turned their heads to you at the same time, seeming to understand it at the same moment. Sav followed your uncle’s gaze and turned on the chair. He looked like he just learned the worst news of his life. “y/n is coming with you. I esteem-”

“What?”

Sav let it escape his mouth loudly and turned back to your uncle. “Well, I spoke with Charles and he thinks the same.” Joe put his hand on Sav’s shoulder. “I think he is right, it shou-”

The bassist violently removed his friend’s hand from his shoulder and got up. If your uncle hadn’t invested in huge heavy chairs for his office, you swore it would have fallen. Rick and Joe made a step back, not expecting this. The drummer scoffed: “Dude, are you seri-”

“I swear to you Frank! Why does she have to come with us? We’re going to record our album! It’s our job for god’s sake! It the Netherlands, far from London! You know it already pisses me off to be followed like a bloody dog by your bodyguard who looks less like a bodyguard than me, but her!” Your cheeks were bright red. You felt like he was walking on you; treating you like shit, without even looking at you. You even wondered if he ever looked at you more than a minute since you both knew each other – apart from his murdering look when you burst in his room. Your fists were clenched, and your body slightly shaking, ready to jump. Rick noticed it and put his hand on your forearm.

“Do you know what she did yesterday Frank? She broke into my fucking house! I could sue her! It wasn’t legitimate! She wasn’t legitimate to do that Frank.” Your uncle was mouth opened in front of so much anger. He gulped and said, calmly: “Sav I agree that it was a bit too much – he looked at you – but I forbid you to talk like that about my niece. If someone is going to solve this situation, it’s her, and she will come with you and work there. It’s about your life Sav, bloody hell! What happened to you?”

The bassist turned without glancing at anyone and Joe jumped to the side to let him pass. You didn’t move and clenched your jaw on the sound of the door slamming shut in the background. Some long seconds of silence passed. The first to break the silence was your uncle; he bent in his chair towards you: “y/n, don’t mind him, he…” He closed his mouth and gulped, not really knowing what he, and eyed you.

Your eyes were in the vague. You couldn’t really put a name on what you felt; it wasn’t sadness – how could you be hurt by this? You didn’t know him – nor anger – you had nothing to be angry at. You didn’t lift your gaze and said: “I can’t help him if he doesn’t want it.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “It’s his life, not mine. If he doesn’t want me…”

“y/n listen.” Joe spoke. “He is being a total prick right now, I agree a hundred percent. But… We already lost one of our bandmates. Please. Help us.” You turned to him. A hint of sadness was painted on his face. Rick was watching his feet. Your uncle looked at you, expectantly. You gulped. The singer shook his head and said: “You know what? What if we go to eat tonight, the four of us?”

Frank scoffed: “I’m leaving for a business journey tomorrow, I still have some things to do yet. But go.” Joe’s gaze shifted to you. His speech touched you a bit. You smiled shyly and nodded, giving up. The three of you got up, said good-bye to your uncle and left.

When he was alone, Frank loosened his tie and sighed. He never had children, but damn he was served with the people he managed. His gaze wandered on his desk and stopped on a sheet of paper at the corner. He bent to see it better; he recognized Sav’s tickets that he didn’t take. He raised his hands towards the ceiling – God, give me strength – and took the phone to dial the reception. “Hi, it’s me. Could you contact Rick Savage and tell him he forgot papers here? Make him come grab them here because I won’t be there tomorrow. Thanks.”

-

You nearly took half of your burger with your first bite. You were starving; you hadn’t eaten anything since the morning, too taken in your researches. Joe laughed and started eating. Rick nudged at you: “Thank you for still wanting to stay with us. I swear to you he is not like that usually.” You stopped and looked at him. His eyes opened wide: “N-No I mean it’s not you but-”

You shrugged: “It’s okay. I mean, not really, but okay. Everyone has got relationship problems, but it’s rude he spills all his anger on me.” You raised your shoulders and let your mind wander. You said, without thinking: “But there is one thing he’s right for though. I’m not legitimate.”

“Don’t say that, you already worked a lot and-”

“Joe. No. He…”

Both of them stopped their movements and were looking at you, frowning. You swore internally for this excess of confidence. You already told too much to not carry on, and they were rightful to know it anyway – and it gave you a reason to continue. “Well, I…”

Let’s go.

“I don’t really work with the police. Well, not anymore.”

Joe frowned. You carried on: “Last year, I… I was on a case, as an expert and working with two other policemen from the London district. And one of them was my boyfriend.” Rick put his chin on his hand, interested. “He fucked up in an arrestation, and we decided to say it was our fault, the three of us, to… mitigate his reprimands let’s say.” Joe hummed. You cocked an eyebrow. “Except when we’ve been heard separately, he didn’t follow what we said and blamed it all on us. Result: my ex still has his little job, and I and our other colleague have been fired.” Well, in fact, your case had been sent to be studied by your chiefs, but you knew it didn’t smell good for you, so you assumed you’d been fired. “And due to that, my kind of job with you here is very unofficial. I’m not in right to exercise anymore, and if my superiors find out…” Well, no need the end the sentence.

You had expected the other to be shocked, but Joe patted your arm. “That guy has been complete shit. It’s good your uncle thought about you to work with us.”

You blinked.

“So you… don’t think I’m not legitimate?”

Rick scoffed: “Of course not. It’s your ex who’s not legitimate if I might say.” You shrugged. “Thank you for understanding me. But… If you could avoid saying it to Sav. He already hates me, so… Let’s not worsen the situation.”

They both gave you understood looks

Chapter Text

Sav’s POV

Sav arrived in the office and headed to the desk. The receptionist had called him in the morning, asking to come and grab his tickets that he forgot in his theatrical exit the day before. He hadn’t slept well, and scratched his swollen eyes due to his lack of sleep.

The man at the reception went to him: “The office is open, you can go.” He nodded and left the hall.

Entering, he noticed the white paper on the desk. He turned around and pulled the huge chair. He had had an idea this night. He sat, took the first blank paper he saw and a pen. He removed the hood. He was about to start but stopped. All of this hatred, he knew deep inside it wasn’t towards her, but the idea of...

Every time he looked at her, his heart sank in his chest and floods of memories came back to his mind. The first time he saw his manager’s niece, he felt…. Never mind.

It was just too painful. His heart was still bleeding, and it was too much. He was being awful with y/n, he knew it. But the young investigator was still there.

He gulped.

Nothing serious could happen, uh? She would just be assigned to another case. Or being given some holidays.

He took a deep breath, putting all – maybe too much – of his emotions away and wrote the Police Chief’s name that he looked in the telephone directory earlier in the upper corner of the paper, followed by introductory politeness formulas.

y/n y/l/n, one of your agents, has been chosen to work with us. Due to mutual difficulties to work together, is it possible to give ma’am y/l/n another case and discuss finding someone else for this job?

He added other politeness formulas and ended. He signed his name, and by the corner of his eye saw Frank’s official tampon. He hesitated two seconds, then grabbed it and pressed it quickly on the paper, like if an alarm would ring if he kept it in his hand longer.

He got up and took the elevator, feeling weird.

When he got out of the building, he glanced at his watch. The police station was two streets away; he could go there, give the letter, then grab a taxi to go to the station to leave for the Netherlands. The low sun blinded him. He passed his hands on his pockets to feel his sunglasses, and cursed to the forgetting. He made some steps, and what happened next was so fast that when he opened his eyes, he was on the ground, feeling a weight on him. He took support on his elbows and glanced around; people were gathering around him, speaking loudly. The sudden heap made shadow; he turned his head to look at what was on him. “Oh my fu-”

Her. Again.

She was literally on him. He watched her straightening and lifting her head. He blinked, still not getting why she was on him. Some seconds passed where they just stayed like that, eyeing each other. She then extended a hand on the side to take support; but a yelp escaped her mouth. Sav looked at where her hand was: she had put it in glass fragments. He frowned; why was there glass on the sidewalk? She still moved and went to her knees. She palmed her coat and took sunglasses from a pocket, to put them on him. “Better not getting recognized.” He was about to say something when she stopped him; “Don’t thank me.”

Sav frowned. Thank her?

She went to her feet and made movements towards people. “Move please! Nothing to see there. It was an exercise.” Sav saw her scrub her cut hand, but smile to the crowd. Some people pouted, and in a matter of minutes, no one was there anymore. She turned and eyed the bassist, still sprawled on the ground like he was taking a sunbath. She then pointed at the door made of windows of the building. A little whole was in it, and the glass around was cracked; some parts were glassless. It suddenly hit him. Oh.

He pointed too, and opened his mouth: “Is it… Is… Bullet?”

She just sighed. “Like I said. Don’t thank me.”

Sav sat straighter and clenched his fist. He suddenly felt something in it; the letter. He took advantage of y/n looking at the window to shove it down his pocket.

He lifted his face back to her. The sun was right behind her, her hair looking like a halo, and the reflection of the rays enlightening her features-

He shook his head. “What were you doing here?”

He grabbed the hand she presented him, getting up. He saw her scrub it again. He stopped himself from asking if she was alright.

Don’t forget pride.

She frowned. “The station is ten minutes away by feet, this is on my way.” She put her hands on her hips: “Everyone is not a diva who takes taxis for a two minutes ride.”

He grunted. If he didn’t hate her, he would have found it funny. Even cute. He grumbled under his breath and passed his hand through his hair. She made some steps back towards the door of the building: “We have to call the police now, we-”

“No!”

Sav threw himself towards her and went in front of her. She looked at him, surprised.

He stuttered: “Just… Go, I’ll do it. Right?”

She didn’t see why he didn’t let her do it, implying himself in this – even if it was about him – not being his habit, but she wasn’t going to insist.

“Right. See you later.”

“Yeah, goodbye. And thank you.”

She continued her path and couldn’t help but frown when she was back at him. Did he just say goodbye and thank you?

-

Joe’s POV

All were facing each other in the train, the singer in front of y/n, and Rick next to him, facing Sav… which made the bassist being next to the young woman, which, of course, made everyone laugh. Well, except y/n, who rolled her eyes in front of their childish expression – but still grinned – and Sav himself, who pouted like a five-year-old.

The drummer was sleeping, face against the glass, such as y/n, whose head was slowly threatening to fall on the bassist’s shoulder. Joe sipped his coffee; he was waiting for that moment with impatience. On the other hand, the blond man in front was studying her face… tenderly?

Joe frowned and eyed him. Well, maybe he decided to actually look at her face more than five minutes before leaving the room or throw a tantrum. He knew that deep inside, he liked her. He had just a weird way of showing it. A very, very weird way.

“Joe.”

The singer lifted his head towards his bandmate. “Mmh?”

“Can I talk to you?”

A kind of worried expression was painted on his face. Well, worried wasn’t really the word, but he couldn’t put a name on it. Joe had learned what happened earlier, it maybe was related to the dramatic incident. The news had shaken them all. It has been close. They nonetheless decided to simply not talk about it – unless Sav wanted to – and change his mind.

“Sure Sav. Go.”

He scratched his hair and eyed Rick and y/n. “Not here. Do you mind going to the restaurant wagon? Please?”

Joe frowned again but didn’t say anything and nodded. He didn’t see why he wouldn’t want to talk about it here, the others knowing about the event. Plus, they were sleeping.

Anyway, he and his friend got up and headed to the left. Some seats away, the bodyguard was sleeping, mouth wide opened.

In two minutes, they were in the little wagon with a bar. It was empty; there wasn’t even a waiter. Joe looked at the bassist impatiently, his curiosity peaking.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Forming the words he was going to say seemed painful.

“I wrote that this morning.”

He watched Sav putting his hand in his pocket and handing him a sheet of paper folded in four. Joe took it and read it, his eyes widening more – if they could – all along the reading.

When he was done, Sav took it back and put it again in his pocket. He eyed his friend. “Are you fucking serious?”

The bassist watched his feet.

Guilt. That was guilt painted on his face earlier.

“W-Why?” That was all he managed to say.

“I just… I can’t. She just gets under my skin.”

Yeah. Under his skin.

“Sav…” God, she was going to blame him for that. A lot.

“Sav, we can’t ask for someone else to work with us. She…”

The bassist frowned. Joe gulped. He told him.

Chapter Text

You got out of the taxi and extended yourself, yawning. From the station till the hotel, you travelled stuck between Joe and Charles, and your legs felt it. During the ride, you had to listen to Charles rambling about God knows why. From time to time, you had turned to Joe for support or distraction; but the singer had been incredibly calm. You assumed it was tiredness and didn’t insist. The whole little group and luggage had been separated into two cabs, that just stopped in front of their destination. Joe got out after you and went in the car boot without addressing a word to you. Nice. Was Sav’s thing against you contagious?

You all entered and headed to the reception. Joe spoke for you all, and the receptionist gave you the keys. After that, they quickly evocated the little representation the band will give the day after, the man giving the details.

Once in your room, you started undoing your package when you heard a knock at the door. You opened: it was Joe. You weren’t expecting that and eyed him, waiting for him to say something. He opened his mouth, but closed it right after. He looked weird; worried. You frowned. “Do you want to enter? Just sit on the bed while I unpack, okay?” He nodded and obliged, playing with his hands. When he sat, he scrubbed them on his thighs, like to wipe his sweat away. You noticed that from the corner of your eye, but didn’t say anything. You bent above your bag and took some shirts to put them in the drawer.

“y/n, I…” You didn’t even face him, but heard him gulp. You shrugged; you nearly found this comical. You moved to the little desk in front of the bed and jumped sat on it. You looked at him and gave him an encouraging look. “Yeah?”

“I… Well. Sorry.”

You frowned and let out a laugh. “Just breathe deeply and push, ma’am.”

He didn’t laugh to your pun and said quickly, as it was one long word: “I-told-him.”

You didn’t understand. Told what? Who him? “Joe, honey, I don’t-”

“Sav. I told him. You, the police, everything. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. It needed some seconds, but you got it. Your breath got cut; you couldn’t believe it.

You got down from the desk and turned, taking support on your hands and turning your back to him. You closed your eyes. You heard the bed squealing behind you and steps approaching on the carpeted floor. “y/n, I-”

You lifted your head and looked at him through the mirror. “Is this too much to ask? A little bit of trust?”

For some seconds, you felt a bit out of place to say that, being yourself in a position of not complete transparency, but wiped this thought away from your mind. After all, everyone knew your little secret now.

His eyebrows were lifted and his forearms raised against his torso in defence, like you were going to beat him. Well, you were thinking about it.

You turned face to him, and pinched the bridge of your nose. You sighed. “Why? Why did you tell him?” You crossed your arms. He scratched his head; your question looked like it worsened his worries. “I… For nothing.”

Your mouth opened in shock: “What? You mean you told him like that? Without a fucking reason?” Your arms fell at your sides. You felt betrayed.

The skin of his face got redder and he started to play with his hands again. He stuttered: “No, wait… There is a reason.”

You lifted your gaze towards him. It felt like a dialogue between deaf people. He approached you and put his hands on your shoulders. “y/n, believe me. I told him because of a reason, and trust me, it was a good one.” He planted his eyes in yours. They were filled with an unnameable expression. “But I can’t say which one.”

You didn’t say anything, the urge in his gaze had taken you aback. You were about to say something when you heard a shy knock at the door. Both of you looked at it; it was opened – you’ll have to teach someone how to close doors when entering a room – and Rick was there, Savage right behind him. Both of them had concerned expressions. The drummer talked first: “Is everything okay?”

You shrugged: “Yeah, I thought I had forgotten my papers home and I freaked out, it would have been shit.” You turned your head to Joe. “After I found them back, Joe was telling me to calm down and that everything was okay.” You threw him a look. He cleared his throat and removed his hands from your shoulders. “Yeah…”

An awkward silence passed and Rick continued: “Okay, so seen that I’m not interrupting anything, can we go eat? I know it’s a bit early, but Sav and I are hungry and we’d like to go to sleep not too late.”

The rest of you nodded, feeling the same. You slammed the door a bit too loud to be unintentional and Sav and Rick turned to you, frowning. You faked your best smile, Joe not even turning to you.

The two others shared a questioning look and carried on walking towards the elevators.

Sav pushed the button, and Joe planted himself in front of the still closed doors, back at you. Rick yawned: “I slept during the half of the train ride, but I’m tired as fuck.” Sav tilted his head: “You should have tried to sleep during the whole trip, man. You need to be good to record.”

You all entered.

The drummer passed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, but I wanted to read, we never take time to.” You turned to him: “And what are you reading?”

He smiled at your interest. “A Shakespeare play. Julius Caesar.”

You jumped on his answer and looked at Joe: “Oh. A story of betrayal.”

“Okay! Time. Time.”

You were against the wall of the elevator, grinning. Joe has raised in hands in a surrendering way and sighed. Sav looked at him, frowning, and Rick’s gaze alternated between you and him. You raised your eyebrows: “A problem, Joe?”

He looked at you, pain in his eyes. Your grin faded a bit; his expression made your heart sink in your chest, realising you maybe went too hard on him.

Rick was about to ask what the fuck was happening when the singer said to him: “I told Sav that y/n wasn’t, in fact working with the police because she had been fired and was doing this job not officially. And I told him why she has been fired.” Rick’s mouth dropped.

“You what?”

Sav turned to the drummer, getting by the fact Rick asked that to Joe and not you that he knew: “Oh, because you knew it too?” He looked offended, as he forgot why Joe had had to tell him everything and that this whole situation was his fault.

“Why didn’t I know it?”

Joe scoffed: “Why? Really? Do you know how you act with her since she-”

“Time!”

It was your turn to stop them. “I’m here, if ever.” The elevator opened, and you got out, heading to the restaurant. The others followed your quick walk. You stopped and turned to them: they nearly all bumped into you due to your sudden action.

“You know. My diploma and my faculties aren’t deleted cause I’ve been fired. Right?” You looked at Joe. He gulped and nodded.

You looked at Rick. He nodded and passed his hand through his hair. He had nothing to blame on himself, but your inquisitor look made him feel like he had to.

You turned back and carried on walking. You arrived to the man at the entry of the restaurant, and gave him your room number. He nodded and placed you all. Sav went in front of you and bent towards you. “And me? You don’t ask me if it bothers me?”

You shot him with your gaze: “Sav. I bother you by breathing only. Please.” You took the menu and put it in front of your face in a way you didn’t see him anymore.

It didn’t prevent him to carry on nonetheless: “I mean, I am the one all of this is about, no? I should have been informed.”

You lowered your menu and sighed deeply: “Excuse me, Queen Elizabeth, to have trampled your right.”

The others huffed at your sides; Sav found that a lot less funny. If you were in a cartoon, you could have seen smoke getting out of his ears.

The waiter came at your sides and poured water in your glasses. “Is your choice made?”

Joe opened his mouth: “I will-”

“No!”

The waiter jumped and the three of you looked at Sav. He had nearly screamed and the tables next yours eyed you with judgment.

The man didn’t say anything and nearly ran away from you.

You lifted an eyebrow.

“How would we know if you are, in fact, competent? What if you lied for everything else too?”

You didn’t see his point. It was like he was looking for ending you right there and then. You clenched your jaw: “Do you think that if I lied about my capacities, I would have saved your life this morning?”

His expression changed for two seconds, seeming to suddenly remember that quite important event.

But two seconds don’t last long.

“I still don’t know if I can trust you.”

You started to be seriously pissed off. You took your glass to water your mouth that was getting dry from anger.

Joe patted his friend’s arm: “She is not like her, Sav. It’s not because that bitch acted like that two years ago that y/n will too.”

You guessed he was talking about what the singer quickly made allusion to the other day and eyed the bassist. He was as red as the carpet.

It was like he hadn’t heard what Joe just said.

 “You’re not even there legitimately.”

He added, as if his point hasn’t been made:

“I wish I had never met you.”

You gathered all the self-control you had left to put your glass back on the table, because if you had kept it in your hand, it would have been crushed – or its containing thrown at his face. Rick, next to you, gulped and Joe first looked at Sav and then at you, waiting.

You planted your eyes in his and he maintained your gaze, moving a lock of his bang to free his eyes. His crossed his arms.

“Say it again.”

You noticed a quick surprise pass on his face due to your answer, but he put back his cold expression in a second.

“I. Wish. I. Never. Met. You.”

He detached every word, and every one of them felt like a dagger.

You took the napkin from your knees, wiped your mouth, folded it and put it on the table. You pushed your chair and got up. You made the tour of the table and planted yourself in front of Sav.

He, who always had so easily supported your gaze had to gather all of his strength – and pride – to look at you.

“With what happened lastly, let me tell you, Savage. Me too, I wish that I wouldn’t have accepted this job.”

You turned and nearly bumped into the waiter. Poor guy, it wasn’t his evening.

Well, yours neither in a way.

You mumbled an apology and vaguely heard Joe calling you back, but you left the place, fuming. You made the way back to the fifth floor and opened your room.

Fuck them.

Well, more fuck him.

It was teamwork, and if he didn’t want to cooperate, it was his problem. After all, he was in danger, not you.

The first flight for London from Schiphol airport took off at 6am, you knew that. You eyed your luggage and sighed. You put your hand on your stomach: you were hungry. But they needed you… You shook your head; you already gave them – more him – a second, even a third chance. And they will certainly find someone else.

You checked the clock of your hotel room: 11pm. You went to sit on the bed near the bedside table and proceeded to take the phone to book your taxi for the airport when it rang.

First ring.

Certainly them. You bet on Joe, but you will resist.

Second ring.

You crossed your arms. They had to respect your decision.

Third ring.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

Forth-

“What.”

You heard a muffled sigh on the other side. “Hi y/n.”

You sat on the bed. You could recognize his voice between thousands.

“I saw you taking off from your chair at the restaurant this evening. Seems your new clients are difficult. Everything is fine?”

You said through gritted teeth: “As you care.”

He laughed. You hated his laugh.

“I didn’t know you still worked. It’s good, I’m happy for you. If you-”

You did what you should have done two minutes ago; hang up. What odds? How did the fucking universe work for your ex-boyfriend, the reason why you have been fired was in the same hotel, in the same city, in the same country as you?

Chapter Text

When you entered in the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast, you quickly eyed the room. No ex-boyfriend in sight. You released your breath.

When you headed to the buffet, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to Joe, watching you with an expecting expression on his face. You frowned. “Are you alright?”

He raised his eyebrows: “Are you… alright?” He insisted on the second word. A yes. The fight. “y/n we… we thought you would leave. Thank you for staying.”

Actually, the idea of leaving had been swept off by another… You just shook your head and wore a little smile.

You both took food and headed to the table. Rick was drinking his coffee, and his face enlightened to your sight.  Joe said: “I promise after you left, we yelled at him. It was too much.” Rick nodded and added: “What did he say though?”

You frowned at his question. “Who said what?”

Both exchanged a look. “Sav. What… what did he tell you for you to stay?”

You were lost. Joe spoke: “You mean you didn’t see him in the hall?” You looked at them, squinting. What?

The drummer got it and started to explain: “Yesterday, we thought you would pack and leave, so we told Sav to go in the hall and catch you when you’ll try to take a cab. You didn’t see him?”

Joe scoffed: “Maybe he’s still sleeping in the couch in front of the reception.” Both laughed and started mocking him a bit.

You would have laughed to the picture normally but your thoughts were somewhere else. Joe noticed: “y/n, you’re sure you’re alright?”

“You see when I told you about last year’s event? My colleague who fucked everything up?”

Both nodded and Joe shrugged.

“He is on duty in this hotel right now.”

They gasped.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t see you.”

You scoffed: “Too late. He called at my room yesterday. That cut my will to leave. And my will to sleep too. Bad memories…”

Rick put his hand on your shoulder: “If I see him, he’s dead.”

You laughed.

“Honestly. He fucked up your life, and he’s got the audacity to call you? He thought you would go out with him or what?”

You shook your head. “Let’s talk about something else. Ready for tonight?”

Joe shrugged: “It might be the less stressful representation of ours ever.” Rick rolled his eyes to his statement.

“What? Can you see the average age of people here? We don’t even have to hide, they just don’t know us.”

You finished eating discussing your hopes the guitarist they found them would be good enough, and you left the guys, seeing them later.

When you joined the hall, you eyed to couches. You shrugged; they were right. Sav indeed spent the night there.

You made some steps closer; he was spread out in the single-person couch, head back, mouth open, a pillow in his arms.

“Do you know him?” You joined the doorman, some meters away. “Yeah, sorry for that, he… he had to wait there and fell asleep, I guess.” The man shrugged: “He spent the evening perambulating in the hall. The receptionist got irritated and asked him to sit, and…” He pointed at him. He looked like a child who fell asleep in front of the television. You couldn’t help but smile in front of the cuteness – non-recognized – of the scene. He added: “Well I hope he didn’t miss what he was waiting for though, cause it seemed stressful.”

You hummed.

You thanked the man and headed to the elevator, throwing him a look. Even if your thoughts were somewhere else, you hadn’t forgotten what he said yesterday.

Suddenly, someone touched your arm. You turned, and froze. You gulped and a tension crossed your body. “Our phone call wasn’t enough for you to understand? Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Listen to me, y/n.”

“It’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to hear anything from you.” His grip tightened. You opened wide eyes under the sudden action. “Let me go!”

You said it louder than you wanted, and a couple that was passing by turned and threw you a look. This sudden attention made him let you go. You didn’t notice Sav opening eyes and sitting straight some metres away.

“I just wanted to know how you were going. When I said yesterday that I was glad you found back a job, I was sincere. It would have been a loss for the profession to lose you.”

“Who’s fault?”

He sighed. “I already told you I was so-”

“Everything is ok?”

You both turned. Sav planted himself next to you, eyeing your interlocutor. A hair lock was fixed on his cheek by saliva, his bang straight on his head. The threatening look he tried to give him got interrupted by a yawn. Your ex frowned.

“I see you’re busy y/n, see you. Tonight, maybe.” He quickly waved and before turning, eyed Sav and shrugged. You didn’t know why, but it gave you an angry feeling.

“Who was it?”

You turned to Sav. Remember yesterday.

“I didn’t ask to be saved, thank you.”

You turned to the elevators. “Wait y/n! I didn’t… Well I didn’t mean to…” You pushed to button. “He just seemed to bother you and…” He ruffled his hair. “Well he looked like a prick.”

You entered, and he followed you. “In the end, it’s you who’s following me right now.” He looked at you, not knowing what to answer. God, he did forget what he told you yesterday?

The elevator ascended in complete silence. You turned to him: “The guy you saw. It’s my ex by the way. The guy who made me lose my job.” You got out, shouted a “Good luck for tonight” and entered your room.

Chapter Text

You eyed the alarm: 7.45pm. In fifteen minutes, the band would perform in the restaurant. You looked back at the ceiling. You had stayed in your room all day long, ignoring the knocks at your door and the phone. You sat up straight. You hadn’t eaten all day, but weren’t hungry. A lot of feelings went through your mind: Joe telling Sav your secret, Sav being a bitch more than ever, and your ex wandering in the same hotel as you. You sighed. Well, Sav being a bitch… You couldn’t deny he tried to make a move towards you.

But you had rejected him.

He deserved it after all.

Your mind wandered to what happened this morning. You smiled. The sleepy face he had when…

You got up and shook your head. What the fuck? It must be the lack of food.

At first, you didn’t want to go out of your room. You didn’t want to bump into your ex, nor face Sav, but you felt like you were going to explode if you stayed in there.

You put the key in your back pocket and got out. The carpet smothered your steps.

You got out of the elevator and crossed the hall, the noise of your heels filling the nearly empty space. You could hear muffled sounds from the restaurant. You approached and waited some moments on the doorstep.

A stage had been installed where the buffet usually stood. The lights were dim, and coloured projectors propelled green and blue spots everywhere.

A man who worked there approached you and said: “You should come grab a drink here miss. In some minutes, there is a British band, Def Leppard, who will perform one of their songs, and after, there will be a magician show.” He smiled at you with all his teeth. You shrugged: his strong Dutch accent amused you. “Okay, you convinced me.” You gave him his smile back and entered. You mindlessly headed to the bar and asked the barman something to drink. You sat on a high stool and sipped.

A little further, you heard metallic sounds. You turned: on the stage, some men were installing material. You guessed Rick taking place behind the drums. A little after, you saw Sav and another man climb on the stage. You reckoned it was the guitarist with him. The bassist grabbed his instrument and placed himself behind the mic, on the right of the stage. A spot behind him highlighted his hair. He swiped the audience – more some couples not understanding who those men with long hair were and people from the hotel – with his gaze and met yours. You don’t know why, but you kept contact for some seconds when Joe entered and passed in front of him, breaking the link. You blinked, turned back to the bar and watched your glass. Behind you, you heard Joe introducing the band and the song they were going to perform.

Some people applauded and you heard the keyboard start playing. Joe started:

If you've got love in your sights

Watch out, love bites

The others started; the song began.

“Can I?”

You turned and nearly spat what was inside your mouth when you recognized him.

He reached out his hand to invite you to dance. You threw a look at the stage: Joe was eyes closed, concentrated and living the lyrics. You swore you saw Sav’s gaze leave your direction when you looked at him.

You looked back at him. You don’t know why, but you took his hand. He smiled at you.

When you make love, do you look in the mirror?

Who do you think of, does he look like me?

Do you tell lies and say that it's forever?

Do you think twice, or just touch 'n' see?

Ooh babe ooh yeah

You proceeded into the crowd. He led you near the stage.

You put your hands on his shoulders, his on your waist.

When you're alone, do you let go?

Are you wild 'n' willin' or is it just for show?

Ooh c'mon

He moved his head in a way his mouth was near your ear.

“It’s been a while.” You gulped. “You know… I miss you.”

You threw a look at the stage. Sav’s gaze left yours, once again.

I don't wanna touch you too much baby

'Cos making love to you might drive me crazy

I know you think that love is the way you make it

So I don't wanna be there when you decide to break it

No!

He moved his hand lower on your back. A cold shiver ran down your spine. Your members straightened. It would have been someone else, he would have already been pinned by you on the floor. But there… You couldn’t move, like if a strong invisible hand was holding both of you together, and mechanically followed his lead. For the first time, Sav’s gaze didn’t leave your form.

Love bites, love bleeds

It's bringin' me to my knees

Love lives, love dies

It's no surprise

Love begs, love pleads

It's what I need

“More than a year passed. It’s behind us now. You know we could… God, you’re so pretty.”

You froze. You weren’t even moving anymore. His grip tightened.

When I'm with you are you somewhere else?

Am I gettin' thru or do you please yourself?

When you wake up will you walk out?

It can't be love if you throw it about

Ooh babe

Your senses didn’t respond anymore. You didn’t hear Joe’s voice becoming hesitant, and the drumming being out of the tempo.

I don't wanna touch you too much baby

'Cos making love to you might drive me crazy

Love bites, love bleeds

It’s bri-

Hum…

It’s bringing…

His breathing fanned on your neck. “Ple-”

“Leave her, son of a bitch!”

The second after, your ex was on the floor, Sav on him. The first gesture caught him off guard and he was put on the ground easily, but the policeman had a bit more practice at fighting than the bassist. Sav still had a hold on his collar, and received a punch in the nose.

You headed towards the fight to separate them but Rick who just arrived at your side prevented you from doing it.

Sav responded by an uppercut; uppercut that he received in response too. You shouted: “For God ‘sake, stop now!”

They didn’t, of course, and carried on. Joe arrived and with two other men of the crowd finally managed to stop the fight.

The policeman touched his chin: a light stream of blood ran down his neck. He was dishevelled and his shirt was out of his pants. Nothing to see with Sav, though; his nose was all red, blood covering half of his face and hair glued in it. He was out of breath, and was still up because Joe maintained him.

You looked at your ex. This bitch was smiling and eyed Sav, then you. Rage filled you. You approached him and planted your eyes in his. He grinned. “I see you aimed lower-”

You punched him in the face and he stumbled.

You turned, took Sav behind the armpit from Joe and headed to the exit, leaving the mess behind you.

He was covering his nose with his hand – hand that was a little too blue at the knuckles to be fine. You pushed the button of the elevator, and entered once the doors opened.

Inside, you looked at him. Your heart sank; he looked very bad. Your hand tightened at his side. “Hey.” He looked back at you. “Thank you.”

He blinked, not sure if he had understood what you had said. Well, it had felt weird to pronounce it too. You detached your eyes from him and cleared your throat: “I have material to heal you in my room.” He nodded and both of you got out and headed to your room.

Once entered, you led him to the bed and sat him. He let himself fall a bit too hard and bounced on the mattress. You let out a “Shit!” and both of you laughed. “I’m sorry, I thought I could let you go.”

He huffed: “Don’t worry, the chock has been absorbed.” He tapped his ass.

You smiled and headed to your suitcase. You took the pocket and came back to him. Halfway, you realized you should take some tissues to wipe the blood from his face: you grabbed the box and a bottle of water from the hotel that stood on the desk.

All along with your coming and going, he kept his eyes on you.

When you had gathered all the things you judged necessary in your arms, you came back to the centre of the room. You met his gaze; he smiled at you. It felt weird inside you; new. But good.

“Shit, your shirt is stained.” You pointed at the collar.

He bowed his head and touched the fabric. “Oh…” He looked at it some seconds, then removed his jacket, that he put on the floor. He went to unbutton the shirt, and removed it. He then looked right and left with it in his hand, not knowing what to do with it.

“Give it to me, Imma… put it there.” You threw it on the little desk.

You then advanced towards him slowly, and went on your knees in front of him. He followed your movements and blinked in front of your actions. You shrugged: “You know, if you’re tensed, your blood pressure is higher therefore you bleed more easily.” You raised an eyebrow and grinned.

He let out a shy laugh and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

You took a tissue from your side and poured some water on it. “Okay, so, I’m going to wash the blood from your face.” He nodded.

You shifted on your knees to get closer; he spread his legs a bit to allow you to get access to his face better. Following your positions, your face was a little bit lower than his. You lifted your hand, tissue intertwined between your fingers.

You first moved his hair and wiped up the blood below his eyebrow, near his hair, on his cheek and what had run down his neck. Once done, you studied his face. “Hey, it’s better than I thought. You’re hurt near your eye, next to your ear and you’ve got a bruise on your cheek. Bleeding from the eyebrow is always spectacular, because it bleeds easily for not much.”

He was watching your lips all along your speech, nodding from time to time. “You seem to know a lot on the topic.”

“Well, personally, I never doubted my capacities.” His face fell and he mumbled nonsense; you shrugged: “I’m pissing you off, it’s okay.”

He gulped and nodded once again.

You took a little bottle from your pocket and another tissue. You put the plasters near you on the bed. “Okay, it may hurt a bit now.” You poured disinfectant on it and applied the paper on his wound near his eye. You anticipated the tingling for him and frowned; he didn’t move, still looking your face, mouth half-opened. You raised eyebrows: “It doesn’t hurt too much?”

He let out a whispered “No” and gulped. You met his gaze and stopped your hand on his face. You shook your head and started speaking again, like to distract yourself from the thick atmosphere: “I’m going to put a plaster on you, the wound is not that deep but it would be bad if it gets infected.” He nodded once again, slower this time.

Before taking the band-aids, you removed your shirt and stayed in your tank top. Why did the temperature raise like that? His gaze fell on your naked shoulders.

You took off the protection from the band and approached from his face. You delicately put the thing on his skin and let your fingers press on the sticking parts. You removed one of your hands but noticed that one side didn’t stick. You frowned: “Wait a sec…” You moved a bit closer and with one finger pressed on it again. It seemed to be well hooked now. You went to take your hand back from his face. “Okay, perf-”

He grabbed your wrist to stop your movement. You gasped slightly and lifted your gaze towards him. You suddenly noticed your faces were, in fact, very close; his face was bent and the tip of your noses nearly touched. He gulped, surprised by his action too. You fanned out your fingers and cupped his cheek. He jumped a bit, the area being sensitive; nonetheless he still kept your wrist in his hand and pressed yours on his skin.

Your thumb shifted lower and pressed lightly at the corner of his lips. They parted slightly under the contact, and your breath got ragged.

His right hand that has been on his thigh since the beginning moved shyly to your side. The contact was hesitant at first, maybe expecting a potential negative reaction from you.

You didn’t show any.

He circled your middle with his arm and opened his hand on your back. He slightly pushed and dragged you closer to him – if you could.

Both of you tilted your heads oppositely; your hand that was on his cheek ascended towards the back of his head. His on your back clawed.

He closed the gap – if we could call it a gap – between your faces and caught your lips with his.

Chapter Text

Rick Savage stirred and yawed. The first thing that came back to his mind was tonight’s events: he smiled. He turned, spread his arms and… felt nothing next to him. The bassist opened his eyes: no one in bed. He pricked up his ear: no sound in the bathroom. He frowned. She’s certainly downstairs for breakfast.

He sat back and touched his eyebrow; it was still sensitive, and it felt like someone was pushing in permanence on his cheek with a finger. His hand hurt a bit too when he moved, and was a bit bruised, though he didn’t think it would be handicapping for playing. He mindlessly swiped the room in one look: his gaze stopped on the little chair in the corner. He frowned. He swore there was a suitcase on it…

A shiver ran down his spine, but he couldn’t say why. “y/n?” He called your name, even though he had already got you weren’t in the room. He got up and put his pants back. His shirt was on the little desk, red spots on it. He would have to put his jacket on to go out. Where was it by the way?

He turned and saw it on the floor. He went to pick it up when…

Oh no.

Thoughts flooded his mind. It was the jacket he wore for the show, and for the journey in the train too.

The jacket he had the morning before taking the train, so.

The jacket he had when he went at Frank’s office to grab his tickets, and wrote the letter.

The jacket he had when he got out of the building, with it in his hand.

The jacket he had put it in, and after having shown it to Joe.

And never got it out of it.

No no no.

The paper had been unfolded, now opened on the piece of clothing.

-

Sav tumbled in the restaurant, looking right and left. He spotted his friends further in the room and headed to them.

Joe lifted his head from his cup of tea and eyed the blond storm coming to them; he was dishevelled, in socks, his shirt with red spots and tugged in his pants only by half. He had his jacket under his armpit, and the singer wondered why the hell it wasn’t on his shoulders to hide the stained material. His other hand was clutching a piece of paper, but he didn’t link the dots.

He didn’t have the time for a mockery though, when the bassist put both of his hands on the table, with enough force to make the glasses tingle. Rick scoffed: “Hey man, pay-”

“Where is she?”

Joe and Rick exchanged a look.

“Uh… Sleeping, I guess.” Joe frowned. He was worrying about her, now?

Or just looking for her to piss her off.

“No.”

The drummer frowned: “How no? And how would you know? If she’s not here, she is in her room, Sav. Leave her alone.” He took his fork to eat his eggs and Joe resumed drinking.

Sav sighed; his friends’ incomprehension tensed him even more. “Guys, I know she is not in her room, cause… Cause- Because I was in her room.”

Rick stopped his movement and Joe failed swallowing his tea.

“You what?”

They both looked at him expectantly, waiting for the moment he was going to tell them it was a joke.

It didn’t happen though; Sav was looking at them, worry filling his eyes.

Both of them were mentally reviewing the night in their heads and coming to the conclusion that, in fact, you had left with him after the fight, and that, in fact, it was possible that…

“You what?” Joe repeated.

Rick raised an eyebrow and grinned: “I knew it.”

Sav gulped and took his glass of orange juice: he emptied it in one trait.

A waiter – the same that was working two days before – passed by and silently came to the point that those Brits were indeed crazy.

“That’s not the point, guys. She left, her suitcase and stuff aren’t there anymore.”

Joe couldn’t help but shrug: “Ow, not good for you.”

Rick scoffed, and Sav shot them with his eyes.

The singer complied and lifted his hands; “Okay, I admit it’s weird.”

They were in a hotel not near the city centre, and apart from being either here in the restaurant or in her room, there weren’t a lot of places she could be – and she certainly wasn’t at the studio. In front of him, Rick frowned, starting to be a bit worried too. He turned to his friend and studied his face. He squinted, reading through him. “And you’re sure there wouldn’t be any reason? I mean, if she doesn’t leave after you insult her, why would she go like that, for nothing?”

Sav now avoided their gazes. He stood straight and breathed. He closed his eyes. “She has found the letter I wrote two days ago.”

Joe spat out his tea.

-

The sound engineer knocked on the glass that separated the recording room from the technical one and mimicked a phone with his hand. Joe removed the headset and headed to the door, leaving the others. Sav was playing anxiously with the wire of his bass, Rick looking at him with pity, not knowing what to say. Well, that’s him who fucked up in the end, but he couldn’t not sympathize with his friend and feel his pain.

Joe came back some minutes after, a smile on his face. “It was Frank. We’re nominated for the Brit Awards. Guys, in a week we may win one!” Rick gasped and got up from his set to join his friend. They both hugged and cheered; the bassist stayed in the corner, lost in his thoughts. Joe sighed and shared a look with the drummer.

It was like he only heard what the singer said now: “Frank called?”

Joe nodded.

“Did he say… something?”

He passed his hand at the back of his neck, getting what Sav was talking about. At the phone, he indeed said something.

“Yeah… She came back. She is in London right now.”

Sav nodded. “Okay, okay. Good.”

Is wasn’t a “good” expression that was on his face, though.

He clapped in his hands. “So. Let’s go back to work.” He put his headphones on.

Joe nodded.

“Yeah, let’s go back to work.”

-

Two days later

You were in your kitchen when the phone rang.

You closed the fridge and headed towards your living room to pick up.

“Yeah?”

“Miss y/n y/l/n?”

You frowned slightly to the serious tone of your interlocutor.

“Your case has been inspected here. You’re resuming service as an expert here in the London police.”

Some seconds passed. You blinked and sat on your couch’s hand rest.

“Wait… I thought I had been fired.”

The man on the other side shrugged. “Well, usually when a file is sent to the inspection for gross negligence, it doesn’t end well. But yesterday someone has pulled strings here and your case has been studied as an emergency. The person insisted on you being in charge of their request. So, I’m glad to announce you have a case to analyse now, added to your regular job. You can come to the station looking for your papers.”

You released a breath you realised you were holding for months and couldn’t help but shrug.

Your uncle.

“Thank you. I guess we all have a guardian angel, uh? And it helps if he’s influent…”

He laughed.

“You’re right. Not everyone has got a rockstar watching on you.”

Chapter Text

A week later

The reception room was full of people.

Everyone was well dressed: men were in suits, women in long dresses. Every big name of the music industry was there, and people who made the year musically speaking.

There were high tables here and there with food on it, and waiters and waitress in white suits were wandering, trays in their hands. Their outfit matched the huge white sheets hanged on the ceiling and walls, giving the room a very chic atmosphere.

Some televisions were placed on tables for people here to follow what happened on the stage and audience during the night.

The man who made you and your colleague enter stopped and scanned the room. “Oh. Here they are.” He gestured both of you to follow him. Some people turned to your passage; you tugged at your supposed date of the evening’s arm. You felt a bit out of place.

The tail of your dress made brushing noises on the carpeted floor as you were walking.

Once arrived behind the little group, the guy cleared his throat; “Excuse me, people are here for-”

The three of them turned.

“y/n!”

As soon as he turned and recognized you, Joe jumped in your arms. You let go of your colleague and closed your arms on him. “I’m so happy to see you!” He lifted you in the air and made you turn. You laughed and by the corner of your eye saw Rick smiling and Sav tugging at his collar. The sight of the last one made your heart sink in your chest.

You both separated and you smiled: “I’m glad to see you too, I kinda missed you during this week. And congrats!”

“Well, we haven’t won… yet.” He winked.

You turned to Rick and hugged him too. You avoided Sav completely, and made a step back to come next to your colleague. What you saw in his jacket the week before had hurt you more than you could admit; looking at him now felt like daggers planted in your heart.

The guy at your side started: “Hello, I’m agent Martin from Scotland Yard. We’re here tonight for your security. We have some other colleagues watching in the audience.”

Joe frowned and looked at you: “But… Before yesterday we’ve been called to tell us they arrested someone.”

You nodded. Indeed, you had found a track, but you weren’t really convinced. And if you hadn’t arrested the right person, tonight was a golden occasion for him. “Well, suspicions. We’re here undercover, agents in the audience are in normal suits. Let’s say I’m supposed to be a producer and Martin here is supposed to be my date.” You shrugged.

At your left, Sav eyed him, and you saw his torso rise and fall quickly.

A woman in a white suit came to you: “Def Leppard? Please proceed to the audience, it will be the moment of the album of the year soon.” Rick tugged at his bowtie and Joe took a breath. He crossed his fingers and looked at you.

You smiled, but inside, you were really worried. For you, the stage looked like a big target.

Rick felt your insecurity, and winked: “We’re not scared, you’re there. It’s cool they took you back.”

You smiled and looked at Joe: “Well, thank you, you. I’m not sure they would have taken me back if you hadn’t called.”

Joe frowned and looked at the others. He scratched his head: “Oh, uh… I… Calling who?”

You blinked.

At the phone, with what the man told you, you had thought it had been Joe who called, the manoeuvre matching his personality and big heart. You frowned. “Wait, you mean…” You turned your head. Rick had big interrogation points in his eyes and Sav was watching his feet. Heat reddened your cheeks.

The woman, who you all had seemed to have forgotten, cleared her throat: “I must insist, please join your seats in the audience, please.”

Joe threw you a last questioning look and headed to the exit, Rick walking behind him backwards, looking at you. You just had the time to grab Sav by the sleeve.

He turned to you.

“I…”

You stopped.

You what?

You didn’t know what to say. He neither, and you both stayed there, eyeing each other. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Your colleague approached you: “y/n, I think… I think you should let him go.”

You detached your hand, and looked at him leave, getting dragged by Rick.

You had a strange feeling.

-

The wings were separated by long curtains. You planted yourself against one of them, in a way you saw the audience and them not. You had left your colleague – it was a bit unaware; you must admit. You spotted the band in the second row.

A woman and a man proceeded to the centre of the stage in front of a music stand made of glass, under applauses. The man had a golden envelope in his hands, the woman the award. She made a joke about it being very heavy, and a wave of laughs rose from the room.

The man introduced the category, summarizing the nominees in some sentences, each of them being separated by an audio illustration and people clapping.

You gulped: your throat was dry.

“And now, my dear, let’s end the suspense and give the deserving winner this heavy price.”

You grasped the curtain in your hand.

The woman took the envelope, and the noise of the tape being torn got amplified by the mic, resonating under the high ceiling – and in your chest.

It felt like it lasted hours; you were about to burst on the stage and open it by yourself when the scratching noise of the sheet getting gotten out of the envelope made your heart jump.

She unfolded the paper and showed it to the man next to her.

After a theatrical suspense and looks exchanged, they both approached their mouths to the mic and said together: “And the winner is… Def Leppard!”

The public cheered. The guys looked at each other, and got up. They hugged, big smiles printed on their faces. Your heart jumped in your chest, both because you were happy for them, truly, and because of the exposure.

They waved at people in the public, tapping their backs and high-fiving while escaping the row and heading to the stage. They climbed the steps, joining the hosts and greeting them while the audience kept applauding. Rick took the price and Joe adjusted the mic in front of him. He bent and put his hands on the desk. They were four meters away from you, not more. “Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know where to start…”

The singer started his speech, and you swiped the audience. Some people were listening, others discreetly – or at least, trying to – speaking to their neighbour. You even saw some eating. Some staff people in white suit were wandering in the auditorium.

You heard people cheering and the voice at the mic changed: Sav was speaking. You gulped. He started talking about hard-working, Steve, and…

Something suddenly attracted your gaze. You don’t know what but…

You squinted your eyes. In a row, a woman in a white suit – who worked there then – stood completely still, looking at the stage. Wasn’t she supposed to work?

She had an empty tray flat against her chest, like she was hugging it with one arm. But something was wrong. Her other arm was moving behind it.

“Thank you for your speech, Sav. We of course want to thank fans…”

Something was wrong.

What happened next occurred really fast. The woman moved the tray the side and a silver revolver came out of her jacket.

You didn't hesitate a second. You jumped on the stage and crossed the distance between the wings and the desk in two jumps, still not knowing how your ankles made it, due to your high heels. Gasps could be heard in the audience. You tried to keep your eyes on the woman, but a projector darted its light right in your eyes. Rick, who just started speaking, stopped, seeing you coming. Sav turned his face to you and started a “What the…” before you jumped on him.

A shot resounded, quickly followed by another. Both of you fell on the floor, crashing the desk in the process in a glass-breaking tantrum. Your breathing got cut, and you could hear screams in the audience.

Your bodies were flushed against each other’s, and your side that was against the floor hurt. Fuck, glass pieces from the desk…

You both turned. Sav went on his knees and let out a cry. He passed one arm under your waist to sit you.

“Sav, are you hurt?”

You lifted your head and crossed his gaze. He didn’t say anything, his eyes wide opened. Why was he looking at you like that? You were about to repeat your question when you felt something hot running down your arm, from your side pressed against him. Shit, she got him…

“Fuck Sav, you’re bleeding! Your shirt…” Joe knelt beside both of you. You extended a hand – that seemed to weight tons – and palmed his shirt. Indeed, there was blood on it.

You felt Sav’s hand press against your side. You wanted to move your hand to touch it, but… Fuck, why didn’t your arm respond anymore?

“It- It’s not…” Sav looked at you, mouth opened. His hand on your side tightened. He was as white as his shirt. His trembling free hand cupped your head, that felt mysteriously so heavy. Your hand clawed at his shirt, but the tip of your fingers couldn’t feel the cotton. He was against you, supporting you but seemed so out of reach right now. You heard someone talk through a talkie: “Call the emergencies, a member of Def Leppard got shot he-”

“Shut up! It’s not me! They shot her! For fuck’s sake, they shot her!”

Sav shouted and threw panicked looks around him. You felt him vibrate against you. Joe’s gaze went from Sav’s waist to your side. He opened wide eyes.

Sounds around seemed further away now, like if someone was lowering the volume, and your vision blurred.

“y/n don’t, please stay with me.”

You wanted to inspire, but it was like oxygen didn’t want to enter your body anymore.

“y/n I-”

You blacked out.

Chapter Text

1^st of November 1991

You rang the bell and waited.

You could hear muffled noises on the other side on a musical background. Rick opened the door and made a surprised face. He had a birthday hat in paper, and the maintaining elastics made his hair stand straight on the side of his face. It made you laugh.

“y/n! You came!”

“Happy birthday, old man!”

He made a step towards you and opened his arm to hug you, but stopped halfway, throwing you a questioning look. You shrugged and closed the gap between you by enlacing him yourself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t break.”

He closed his arm on you and held you tight.

It has been one week and a half from now that you left the hospital. On the awards night, the first bullet had been shot by the stalker, who had hit your right side. The bone had been touched, and your muscles torn apart, but luckily, no vital organ had been damaged. What made you lose your consciousness was the huge amount of blood you lost, the wound being rather deep. The second riffle was your colleague hitting her.

The only physical remaining trace of this evening was a huge pad covering your side.

You broke apart.

You extended your neck to watch inside above his shoulder. His house was full of people. You eyed them, but didn’t recognize anyone in the dim light. He smiled knowingly.

“He’s there you know.”

You threw him a look.

“Who?”

He cocked an eyebrow.

You swiped his insinuations with your hand: “I don’t care, and he doesn’t care about me either, so…”

He put his hand on his hip and pouted. “y/n, if he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t have been shouted at by nurses at the hospital for redecorating your room with flowers, nor visiting you every day, nor-”

“Okay! Okay.” You blushed and passed a hand at the back of your neck, feeling exposed. “Fair point, only if he came when I was actually awakened.”

During your little week of hospitalization, you had been operated several times; and every time, you woke up under Joe and Rick’s – sometimes your uncle’s – eyes, saying that it was ‘too bad, Sav had just left’.

In other words, you hadn’t had a proper contact together since the night you shared in the Netherlands.

You gulped, your heart sinking in your chest.

“Rick, what are you- y/n!”

Joe had appeared at the doorframe. After gasping like he had had a vision, he dragged you inside and grabbed you by the shoulders, kissing your temple. Rick closed the door and tapped his friend’s shoulder: “Hey easy dude!”

“Oooooh, relax my friend.” He let you go and addressed the same ministrations to the drummer that to you, dragging him further in the living room and shouting: “Make noise for the birthday boy!” A vague of cheering rose from people.

Rick threw you scared looks before being swallowed by the crowd and you shrugged. It was only 8pm, but the night was already well launched for Joe.

You swiped the room with your gaze. Well. You managed to pass between dancing people without getting hit and reached for the kitchen that, as always, offered an island of peace. You did as you were at home, took an apparently clean glass on the counter and poured yourself wine. You started to drink when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned: a woman was smiling at you. You smiled back, but didn’t say anything; you had no clue who this person was. She seemed to get your trouble; “Let me introduce myself; I’m Rick’s wife!”

You put your glass at your side and shook her hand.

“Oh, nice to meet you.”

She answered with enthusiasm: “I’m so glad to finally meet you! Rick has talked a lot about you, well, of course. And I’m sure he’s right; I respect everyone who spent several days in a row stuck with my husband and his band.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah, they can be real children sometimes.”

She nodded and hummed: “So, I know it’s a bit early, but we’re doing the cake now, because the children are leaving to their grandparents after. And you know, it’s great to have them for that moment.”

You nodded: “Sure. You want any help?”

She put her hand on your shoulder: “Oh no, I just would like you and the guys to hold the tray and bring him the cake.”

You watched her go out of the room, then come back pulling a little cart with the huge cake on it. You gasped: it was the biggest one you’d ever seen. She shrugged at your expression: “See why I need four people to lift it now.” You raised your eyebrows.

She got out once again, leaving you alone in the kitchen. You approached the tray and hummed: a delicious chocolate smell opened your appetite.

You heard heels in the corridor and lifted your head. The light smile your stomach gave you faded. Rick’s wife was at the doorstep, between two people. On her right and holding her hand, Joe was half leaning on her, gaze lost somewhere in front of him. His mouth was slightly opened, eyes narrowed under the bright neon light of the kitchen, blinding compared to the dim light of the living room. And on her left side, Sav. You gulped and reflexively touched your side.

“Alright! So, my plan is: Joe goes in front of me, and Sav in front of y/n. Right?” No one answered; Joe was still in another dimension, and Sav and you still eyeing each other. “Okay… Stay there, I’m going to tell everyone.” She left the room.

Some seconds passed.

Sav passed his hand through his hair and gulped loudly. He pointed at your side, your hand still patting the pad: “Does it… Does it hurt?”

You shook your head: “Right now, no, but sometimes, when I move too fast, or…”

You stopped. Were you going to talk to each other like nothing had happened?

Rick’s wife came back, and took Joe by the arm in the process to lead him in front of the tray. He miraculously reconnected with his senses and grabbed his assigned side. Sav and you positioned your hands under. She got a box of matches out and lighted the cake. “Alright, let’s go.”

The four of you lifted the tray, the housemaid leading you walking backwards. Proceeding into the corridor, the intensity of the light lowered and your four faces were only enlightened by the flames. You lifted your eyes and met Sav’s, already looking at you. The orange light highlighted his features and made his bang look like a halo. You couldn’t hear the music anymore; someone certainly should have stopped it for the cake. “Hey…” He had whispered it in your direction, making the flames of the candles sway. Your hands were flat under the tray to support it; his too, and he moved them a bit forward for your fingers to touch. It made a shiver run down your spine.

You had now arrived in the living room. The projectors projected a deep blue light, giving an intimate atmosphere, but still bright enough to allow people to see each other; and what will be in their plate. She started: “Happy birthday to you…”

The guests, gathered at the bottom of the room, took the step and started to sing. Joe had found his vitality back, and his husky voice nearly covered the rest. You proceeded to Rick, who was sat on a chair in the centre of the room, children from his family all around him. His wife went backwards till she sat on his knees. Sav and you were at his sides, and Joe face to the couple, lowering the tray a bit for it to be at his level.

He blew the candles, and everybody cheered. Joe screamed: “A wish now!”

He shrugged: “Yeah, it’s before blowing the candles normally…” Everyone got quiet though while Rick lifted his head, thinking.

“I’m sorry!”

Everyone’s gaze shifted to Sav.

In front of your lack of reaction, he repeated: “I’m sorry.”

He was looking at you. You raised your eyebrows, only getting now he was talking to you. Everyone looked at you, expectantly. You gulped and answered in a whisper: “You could have made me lose my job definitely, Sav.”

“I didn’t write it with this on my mind. Plus, after, Joe told me you were fired so…”

“Are you serious? Do you really think it’s an excuse?”

Everyone stood still, in silence, eyeing you. There were no chances they knew what you were talking about, plus a good majority of people here didn’t know who you were. Joe’s gaze shifted from Sav to you, like he was watching a tennis match. Due to your concentration on another topic, you both had lifted the tray back; it now arrived at Rick’s nose; only showing his eyes widened, not believing what was happening in front of him.

You had gasped in shock in front of his apologize. “Since the beginning you hate me Sav, and you know what’s the worst? There isn’t a fucking relevant reason.” You started to shake from anger. “Oh yes, I forgot; apparently something bad happened with your ex. Well, I’m sorry to happen to share this particular point with her: yes, I’m a woman.” He opened his mouth, but closed it right away. You weren’t done: “You know, you too share a particular point with my ex.” You made a theatrical pause. “You’re both fucking cowards.”

You felt the tray leave your hands suddenly: Sav pulled it towards him, then bent to put it on the floor. Joe had followed in his movement, still holding it; he let out a “oof” and got dragged on the floor, stumbling under the energy Sav put in his movement – and the lack of energy Joe had from his state. The bassist got up. You were expecting anger on his face, but his features were torn in sadness. The blue light emphasized it. You gulped, and blamed yourself right away for being touched by it.

“Yes. Yes you’re right. I’m a coward.” The tray was at your feet, putting a distance between both of you, but he bent forward a bit, as he was under the weight of his emotions. “During the whole last week, I’ve been a coward because I wasn’t able to affront you after what I did. When I woke up that morning in your bed without the heat of your body next to me, I’ve been a coward because I didn’t go to grab you before you left to explain you everything. After our first kiss, I’ve been a coward because I was untrue towards you cause I didn’t even apologize for what I did. That time at the restaurant, I’ve been a coward because by telling you I wished I had never met you, I thought you would leave and being far from you would make me forget you, to run away from my feelings.” The corner of his mouth shook imperceptibly. “After you saved me in front of your uncle’s office, I’ve been a coward because I was trapped under the guilt of what I had just written, and I didn’t even thank you. The second time we went to your uncle’s office, I’ve been a coward because I ran away knowing that spending time with you at that hotel would make me fall even more for you.” He made a pause. No one moved. Joe was still knelt on the floor, trapped in Sav’s speech. Rick was mouth opened. “And the day I met you in your uncle’s office, I’ve been a coward because the second I laid my eyes on you, I knew-

“Shut up.”

The words he was about to say got caught in his throat and he blinked. The corners of your eyes were tingling dangerously. Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was alone in your chest, resonating through your whole body, about to burst. You took a deep breath. The sudden bombing movement of your torso pulled a bit at your pad; it tickled, and your hand mechanically flew at your side.

Sav saw your movement and his eyes opened wide: “Oh my god y/n are you alri-”

You grabbed his face between your hands and dragged him towards you, kissing him passionately. He took a moment to understand what was happening, then closed his eyes and responded. He passed his arms around your middle and pulled you flush against him. At your feet, Joe dragged the tray towards him just before you literally stepped in it. You felt Sav move a protective hand at your side. People around you cheered; but you didn’t hear them.

You broke apart just enough to be able to look into each other’s eyes. He started: “I even should have apologized when you broke into my house you know. I mean, I was so much impress-”

You couldn’t help but shrug, and cut him by grabbing his chin and kissing him again. He grabbed you below your thighs and lifted you; guests cheered even more, celebrating something else than the birthday boy.

Next to you, Rick’s wife was still on his husband’s knees, smiling widely. She passed her arm around Rick’s neck and put her head on his shoulder. “See? I told you the cake-idea was a good one.”

Rick shrugged and smiled. “The power of food.”

Fin.