Chapter Text
Los Angeles, April 1999
The last few weeks had been full of ups and downs as he and Daisy adjusted to this new thing of theirs. Fortunately, there were far more ups than downs but that wasn’t to say that it hadn’t been frustrating at times. Different than the low boil of frustration, aching, and longing of being without her.
There were, unsurpingly, arguments. He’s not entirely sure that he and Daisy know how to entirely be at peace with one another, except for those rare perfect heights of harmony they’d reach while recording and more recently the sleepy, peaceful, warmth they’d found in each other’s arms after they’d exhausted their bodies in bed.
They’d started off actively antagonistic from the moment they’d met in the studio. Though Daisy, blunt as ever, will say that he was the one who started shit by his initial ‘dickish’ behaviour the day they’d met.
He can admit she was right. He had been an asshole when they’d met. He still feels justified in how territorial he was about the music and the band, but he hadn’t needed to be dismissive and rude to her.
It was the instant attraction he felt to her, his resentment on how she’d changed the meaning of his music from hopeful and redemptive to a lament of romantic uncertainty. But more than any of those things, the resentment and lashing out could be traced back to two things. The first being Teddy thought he needed her help and the way she’d in an instant seen right through him about the deepest fears he’d carried about his marriage.
When they were first reunited after decades apart, it had emerged from conflict again. Daisy coming to his studio to call him out on his behaviour towards her then lover and his bandmates.
Even when they finally had gotten together, it had happened because Daisy had dragged herself over to his house to confront him about his early disappearance from the Grammys.
So yes, antagonism was a feature of their dynamic and not a bug. It will probably always be a part of them to some degree.
Though he knows that some of that past antagonism was rooted in circumstance; frustrated attraction, then thwarted love, forced to work together in close quarters in spite of those two things. Always wanting with no chance of having. Well, that kind of thing weighs on your soul. As did the guilt they both felt, he felt for betraying the wife and family he loved with his every breath. Denial is like a house built on an unsteady foundation in the middle of a hurricane.
The rest of the roots of their fighting was even uglier.
Daisy and he had the uncanny ability to see past the images both were desperately trying to project into the world. In some ways, they were mirrors, and could reflect each other’s darkness as much as they reflected each other’s light. He’d easily seen past the glamorous good time girl to the rejected, abandoned, needy, little girl beneath. Saw her a damaged, broken, lost. Has been endless frustrated as she wasted her talent and spiralled down a path of self-destruction. Had hated her lack of control when he was desperately holding on to his by tenterhooks.
And she’d seen that. She’d easily seen how he was barely holding it together. Saw his lies, and his judgment, and his self-righteousness, and his cruelty. Saw how his control was an illusion. Saw how he had made her the living embodiment of every vice that tempted him from infidelity to addiction. Worse than that, she’d seen his desires, as clear as day.
And that instinctive knowledge of where to hurt, where each other’s soft underbellies lay, was far too easy for them to use against each other.
Many things had changed between now and them. The biggest change being that no longer did they have to hide what they felt from the world, each other, and most importantly, themselves.
More than touching her, more than having her in his bed, it was the freedom he’d found in her arms that had really changed everything.
When it came to Daisy, he’d spent so long desperately clinging to a set of rules that he hoped in vain would prevent him from upending his life.
Rule number one: Don’t look too much at Daisy.
Rule number two: If you break rule number one, don’t smile too much at Daisy.
Rule number three: Avoid touching Daisy. Touching Daisy is dangerous and leads to losing control.
Rule number four: Don’t talk about Daisy too much. In fact, avoid mentioning Daisy when she’d not there. You can’t let anybody know how much you think about her, especially Camila.
Rule number five: Stop thinking about Daisy all the fucking time.
Rule number six: Don’t smile and laugh with Daisy if you can help it. You can’t let her or others get the wrong idea.
Rule number seven: Don’t worry about Daisy. Or if you do, only worry about her as it relates to the band and her ability to work and do her job. Don’t let people know that you worry about Daisy.
And of course, after Chicago came the most important rule.
Rule number eight:Don’t miss Daisy. Daisy was a mistake that you learned from. A mistake that reminded you of the need to recommit to your family. Daisy was a temptation that nearly destroyed your life. What you felt for Daisy wasn’t love and even if it was, it certainly wasn’t right.
Some of the rules were easier to follow then others. But what is mostly amounted to was that almost the entire time he’d known her, Billy had to suppress showing just how much he felt every time she was near.
It had been exhausting and near impossible not to let himself smile when she’d written a beautiful line that made his soul sing, or when he’d been delighted by the way they they’d created together, or her snarky remarks to Eddie, or her playfulness with Teddy, or the way she’d work a crowd from the stage. A million little moments where he’d worked to bury his feelings.
It had been a full-time job to not let it show. He’d spent most of his time suppressing his addictions, and for a long time he’d seen Daisy as one of them.
Then, when they’d been reunited, becoming friends over the last several months, came rule ten.
Rule number ten: Don’t scare Daisy away.
That was a particularly tricky rule. He knew he could scare her away by wanting too much from her and so he made himself content with what she was willing to give.
He’d failed of course, at various times with all the rules. Broken every single one of them at different moments. But the point was, his entire dynamic with Daisy aside from being rooted in antagonism was also rooted in denial and concealment.
Not that Billy gave two shits about rules beyond the ones he’d made for himself, but he didn’t realize how much being freed of all the rules that governed his every interaction with Daisy would leave him absolutely reeling.
He was almost beside himself the first time he’d planted a kiss on her soft cheek unthinkingly in front of a member of her team a few weeks after they’d first gotten together. She’d been back in California, and they’d planned to meet at her house.
When he’d arrived and was led into her office by her housekeeper, she’d been wrapping up a meeting with her first assistant.
Daisy had looked beautiful and business-like, in a pair of slacks and an oversized blue stripped button-down, with her hair piled high on top of her head, as she ran through a list of follow-up items for her team to cover the four days she was scheduled to be in LA.
When she’d spotted him, she’d held up her finger at him to indicated she’d needed a moment to wrap up.
And he was thrown by it for a second, this Daisy who he didn’t know, business Daisy, mogul Daisy. He knew Daisy the musician. He’d seen Daisy the music icon. More recently, he’d been getting to know Daisy the woman behind these other Daisys- beautiful, and heartbreakingly vulnerable, stubborn, talented, and hilarious. But this new version of her was a stranger.
When she’d finished her list, she’d crossed the small room, emerging past the barrier of her desk, to greet him. As she rose on her tiptoes to hug him, he noticed she was barefoot, toes painted hot pink, in contrast to her more serious exterior. It was achingly familiar and reminded him that she was still Daisy. He sighed in relief internally.
He couldn’t help but respond to it, holding her closer than what was polite, inhaling her scent as if he’d been starving, and then kissing her cheek, letting his mouth linger.
When he’d remembered they weren’t alone, when he’d felt the weight of breaking all the rules he’d spent so long living by, he’d blushed and stammered and jerked away as if he’d been caught doing something illegal.
Daisy had looked at him perplexedly, then realizing the source of his discomfort, how new and radical this was for them both, she’d laughed bright and full before turning back to Shelia to explain in a dry tone.
“He’s going to need a minute. Possibly several. And maybe a glass of water.”
After cracking that joke, she’d introduced them, calling Billy an ‘old friend and bandmate.’ before Shelia left with her marching orders in tow. As well as an amused smile on her face that she couldn’t quite hide.
Then they were finally, blessedly alone and Billy was able to greet her properly. In that case, properly meant fucking her on her desk which turned out was the perfect height for a lot of things beyond signing papers.
Afterwards, when they’d detangled their bodies, Daisy had glanced up at him, dreamily, violet eyes half closed. She was half dressed, and some of her hair had escaped the confines of its bun sticking to the sweat on her face, her mouth swollen and red from his kisses, skin flushed and damp, and whispered, voice hoarse, “Is that always how you say hello to people? If so, I don’t understand why you aren’t invited more places.”
Anyway, Daisy was still laughing about his initial awkwardness weeks later. He thinks that this incident will remain a source of mockery and amusement to her for a long time to come.
Despite their growth, they were both still stubborn, still had lingering issues from the past to say nothing of their new challenges so fighting couldn’t be avoided entirely.
The source of their most recent conflict was mostly to do with schedules and how to move forward in this new phase of their relationship.
For all that they were together now, they didn’t get to spend all that much time together in the same place. This was mostly due to being in a long-distance relationship, but it was more than that fact. It was also due to having to juggle priorities during those rare times they were in the same location.
When Daisy had come to LA to visit after they’d gotten together, he’d taken her at her word that she was there so they could spend time together. They’d both wanted that.
However, he’d been surprised to learn that he was just one of her priorities on the trip. She’d also used the opportunity to meet with her West Coast marketing team, as well as meet with a potential director of her next music video. Time with him was squeezed in between those other obligations.
It's not like Billy expected her to drop everything for him, but he couldn’t help but feel a little resentful that he was another item on her to-do list. Fuck Billy, pencilled in between a scheduled session with her trainer at 7am, a breakfast with her accountant, and a late lunch at the Palm with someone from the label.
He also knew that they were just getting started in this relationship and of course she had other things going on but if she couldn’t prioritize him now when they were so excited about being together, what did that mean for later when the rush of initial giddiness wore off?
Then there was the minor argument they’d gotten into about when to tell people they were together, two weeks into their relationship.
He wanted to tell Jules and the rest of his family immediately. His mother, especially, asked if he was getting out or if he had met someone nice almost every time he called her.
He could practically hear Daisy rolling her eyes over the phone line as she responded, “Well, you won’t be able to tell her you met someone nice. Billy, I’ve been called many things, but I’ve never been insipid enough to be called nice. But you know I like your mom and she’s your mother so tell her whatever you want.”
As for Julia, Daisy had been nothing but supportive, saying in a sincere tone, “I love Jules and she’s your daughter, Billy. I’m not going to interfere in how you want to communicate with her. That’s your call.”
Daisy in contrast wanted to play things much closer to the vest. Sure, she’d been happy to tell the closest members of her team that she was seeing someone new, but Billy knew it was professional courtesy. She told them because they had to know as part of their jobs. But she was more reluctant to tell the people closest to her in her life.
The conversation continued as Daisy mused who else the news should be shared with.
“Of course, we should tell Warren and Lisa. God knows our friends are nosy. Besides, you have to know that they were not so secretly rooting for us to get together for a while, but I don’t think everyone needs to know now when we are just figuring it out. Besides, we are taking this slow.”
What Billy heard was, ‘I’m not sure of you at all and I’m waiting for you to fuck this up. I don’t want to tell that many people important to me so I’ll look like less of an idiot when you do mess up.’
What Billy said was, “I get that. But not even Simone? You don’t want to tell her?’ He knows how close those two are. Daisy doesn’t have secrets from Simone.
There was a long pause on the line before Daisy responded. “I won’t lie to her if she asks about it directly, and she probably will. She knows that I was talking to you when I was here a few weeks ago but we haven’t talked much since and I haven’t brought you up.”
He couldn’t believe these words were coming from a woman who had called him a liar countless times and stressed the importance of honesty.
“Aren’t you the one who’s always going on about honesty, Dais? I’m just a little surprised is all.” He can’t keep the bitterness from seeping in just a touch. His lack of honesty is one of Daisy’s absolute favourite talking points.
She sighs frustratedly. “Billy, I was talking about honesty between us not other people. I said I’d tell her if she asks. I’m just not going to offer it up. She already probably suspects considering the last time we really talked she told me that sometimes you need to make the choice that works for you even if it isn’t the smart one. But you’re not her favourite person which is fair considering how much she’s seen of our past, so I want to wait till we’re on more solid ground before I say anything.” She finishes softly.
He shook his head, knowing Daisy can’t see the look on his face through the phone. He wonders if she might be able to for just a second, she’d always been a little too good at reading him.
He thought that Simone and he had always gotten along well. Then he remembered her cool reception at Jules’ movie premiere. He bristles a bit at the implication that he’s a ‘dumb choice.’
He really hasn’t spent much time considering how the people who love Daisy might view him and their relationship and he’s spent enough time in his therapist’s office thinking about all the ways in which he might be bad for her.
He opened his mouth to defend himself then snapped it shut.
“Baby, she doesn’t think you’re a bad guy. In fact, she has nothing but praise and respect for what kind of dad you are and what kind of musician and producer. But remember, she saw how not good we were for each other and how loving you nearly broke me. And she knows how you saw me as damaged goods. Plus, the way you framed your feelings for me in the documentary and all the shit with Caleb. So yeah, I want to wait a bit and tell her when I’m ready. I don’t think that’s asking a lot.” She finished softly.
She’d won that argument.
The next disagreement came on that same trip home where Billy had momentarily lost his composure after kissing her in front of her assistant.
He’d already been in a pissy mood about how much of her visit she intended to spend working before she dropped another bomb on him.
They’d planned to have lunch with Lisa, Warren and the twins before Daisy flew back to New York late Sunday afternoon.
Laying contentedly in each other’s arms on the Friday night, talking about their plans for the upcoming few days, Daisy had requested they keep their hands to themselves and avoid the topic of their new relationship at lunch with the Rojas clan.
“I mean, they know already, but the kids don’t. I don’t want anything getting back to Harper. She and the girls are as thick as thieves.”
He knows that Daisy doesn’t mean anything by it but he’d felt furious. After denying everything between them so long, after finally taking the first tentative steps to move past that, here she is ready to shove them back into hiding again just when he’d let himself think, well he wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
“Should we make a list then on the circumstances where I can touch you? Maybe a map of your body on where I can touch? Just so I don’t get confused. Not in public because the fans and media can’t know yet. Certainly not in front of the people that matter to you most because you haven’t told them yet because you’re waiting till I’m past a probationary period. Do I have that right? Anything you want to add?”
She’d yanked her head off his chest and sat up so quickly and whipped her head around so hard to look at him that for one second, he was worried that she might have given herself whiplash.
“Just what the fuck is your problem with this Billy? You know about my rules with Byron about Harper. Jesus Christ. I won’t deal with the passive aggressive bullshit, I’m not your wife. I won’t let you treat me like shit while I try to figure out what crawled up your ass and died.” Her eyes were furious, blue eyes turned into the kind of flame that reminded Billy of his high school chemistry class on the rare occasions he’d forced himself to attend.
“On that we can agree, Daisy.” He got up naked and started looking for his pants in the near darkness, cursing under his breath.
“Don’t you dare walk out Billy. You think I’m the one who’s always leaving but you’d rather run than talk about your feelings. Don’t pretend that isn’t your MO as well. I make a reasonable request and you’re ready to flee in the night,” she’d accused, voice scathing. But beneath the anger, he’d heard the hurt and confusion.
So he’d sat back down on the bed and tried to put his thoughts into words.
He’d left his back facing her because he couldn’t quite look at her while explaining. She already saw too much of him, he couldn’t manage this conversation while she looked into his soul.
“Daisy, do you know how hard it is for me not to touch you?” He’d started.
“I think I have a pretty good idea. It was probably as hard for you as it was for me living with your distance and denial.” She’d responded quietly.
“No, baby, I don’t think you do. I used to think about you so much and every thought was a betrayal of my vows, but I didn’t know how to be me and not want you. I made up all these rules to stay sane. Like I couldn’t look at you for more than thirty seconds at a time. Or I couldn’t smile at you or with you too much. Or I could touch you if the band was celebrating but only then.”
“Seems like you broke a lot of those rules back then,” Daisy had whispered voice strained but with a tinge of humour.
“I did. And it took me a long time to forgive you and myself for it. Don’t jump in and say it wasn’t your fault, I know, I know. But now that we’re together, I get to throw out all those rules and I just don’t want to go back. I’m angry at the idea of going back.”
“Billy,” she cooed softly as she laid her hand gently on his shoulder.
“Billy, I don’t want you to go back but where we are now, there are just some things we can’t have right now. Some things we just need to wait a little bit longer for. Some things I don’t think we're ready for yet. Can you do that? Are you willing to?” She lets the question linger, makes no move to force him to turn around.
He lets himself sit with the question for a few minutes as her warm palm rests on his skin, a steadying presence.
Eventually, he’d turn back around, and slipped back under the covers and she’d laid back down against him.
“I’ll call Lis tomorrow and ask her to find a sitter for the girls. She and Warren can come here for lunch. Feel free to touch me all you want but if Warren turns the hose on us, I will be very, very angry.”
They’d been together for five weeks now and he thinks they’re starting to find a groove.
The near daily email exchanges they’d fallen into while friends remain but now between all their other obligations there are calls 2-3 times a week and visits every 2-3 weeks, schedules permitting.
The one area in which they have yet to make any progress is making it to a first date.
Despite her 4-day visit to LA and his most recent trip to New York, they still hadn’t found the time to go on a date. Sure, they’d managed to spend plenty of quality time in bed, really on numerous flat, steady surfaces, they’d shared meals together, had time together but nothing that felt like an actual date, something always got in the way.
Most recently, he was supposed to take her out his first night in New York. He’d just checked into his hotel when he’d gotten a call from his friend Jerry.
“Billy, I know you have plans for your weekend, but I need a favour and I’m desperate. I need you to go to the Course Correct show tonight. This is the last of their New York shows and their tour doesn’t resume for like another month. I was supposed to send Tyler but he has a family thing and I can’t get to New York on this short notice. You are the only one I trust in the zip code. I will owe you big time.” He did sound desperate.
“I would, I really would, but I have a date tonight.” He’d explained.
“You can’t cancel? I will put my IOU in writing.” He pleaded.
“Believe me, this is not the kind of woman you cancel on.”
“Dream girl? Hmmmm. Maybe you bring her along, show off a bit, cool job, VIP access.”
Billy laughed gruffly. “That really won’t impress this one.”
“Please Billy. Seriously, I will even cat sit next time you are away.”
“Christ, let me call her and see if she’d be up for the change in plans.”
She had been and they’d gone to the show. The band had been surprisingly good. The New York scene had lost much of its verve in the last decade but there seemed to be a whole new slate of bands ready to revive it, shaking off the grunge and malaise of the early 90’s for a more experimental yet polished sound.
They’d enjoyed the show but not without some major hiccups. However, he didn’t want to count a work event as their first date. Especially, one where she’d been recognized in the club, even as dressed down as she was, even as they hid in a table in back. She’d gamely greeted fans for almost an hour, shaking off Billy’s offer to get the club bouncer to waive them away.
“I won’t do that, Billy. The last thing I need is stories circulating about what an asshole I am. I’m not going to be rude to my fans if I can help it.”
Eventually, she explained they were there to support the band, and she really wanted to enjoy the set so much of the small crowd dispersed, still in awe of her glow.
Then, after the surprisingly good set, he brought Daisy backstage because he didn’t want to leave her unprotected in the crowded bar.
The band had been happy to see someone from the label, tangible proof their interest was real.
Of course, they’d been happier when they’d recognized Daisy Jones which of course had turned into them asking for feedback on their performance, praising her work, and the lead guitarist trying to flirt with her before she shut that shit down by saying, “Thank you for the offer of a drink but I’ve been sober since 1977 and besides, I’m not sure my date would want to sign you if I ditched him for you.”
He didn’t count the tiny grungy East village diner where they’d grabbed a bite after either.
So, still nearly six weeks in and no first date. It had even become a running joke between them.
“Do you think we’ll manage it by the millennium?” Daisy had mused aloud.
“I think someone up there hates us,” he’d teased one day on one of their phone calls.
“You know, most people only count from the first date how long they’ve been seeing someone. How else would you determine your anniversaries?” She said thoughtfully.
“All sorts of better ways. I didn’t take you for traditional.” He’d said surprised.
“Oh baby, I’m not. I’m glad you know that about me. But you're much more traditional than I am, so I know it matters to you.” She’d elongated the ‘you’ in her response just to rub his nose in it a bit.
And that was true. He wanted to mark the occasion. He needed it to matter.
“Hmmmmm, maybe,” Unwilling to concede her point. “Next time you’re in town, I’m taking you out. It’s happening this time. No more excuses or delays.”
Daisy was due in town for three whole days the following week and he couldn’t wait to see her.
It wasn’t that he was stressed about the date but there had just been too much build up. Give or take decades even if either of them didn’t want to admit it.
On one hand, first dates were about connecting with someone and also impressing someone.
On the first count, he and Daisy had the kind of connection most people never found in their lifetime. On the second, he couldn’t really impress Daisy all that much. This woman had seen him at his absolute worst and occasionally, his best. They were way beyond all that.
On the other hand, he’d really wanted to show her that she mattered to him.
Daisy was right, he was more traditional than her, but he wasn’t actually a traditionalist.
Dinner and dancing was boring. He scrapped that idea immediately. Daisy had eaten everywhere expensive and acclaimed in the city. Billy didn’t know any place cool and new and wasn’t about to start canvassing for recommendations. And any place they used to love was either closed or loaded by their complicated history.
Music was the obvious choice. It was his first love and hers. It was the place they started. He could take her to see an artist she liked, or to a record store, or maybe any show at the Hollywood bowl. She’d love any of those options.
Still, he wasn’t quite sure that said what he was trying to say. He felt ridiculous getting tied up in knots like this. He’s sure she’d laugh and tell him all his ideas were fine but he wanted to start out how he meant for them to go on. Damn it, it was important. That’s what he wanted.
Then he thought about what Daisy wanted.
When the idea came, he was a bit unsure of it. It certainly wouldn’t be what she was used to or anything she would have picked herself.
The following week, he drove through her gated community, a little nervous but mostly excited.
When he rang the doorbell, she’d answered not a member of her staff.
He’d told her to dress sporty, in something she didn’t mind getting dirty.
It was worth it alone to hear her bemused tone as she’d repeated his instructions, “Sporty? Sporty?”
“Daisy, I know you know what that means. You work out with your trainer five days a week. And even if you didn’t, I know Harper listens to the Spice Girls so take that for inspiration.”
She’d grumbled but clearly had obeyed his instructions. And here was Daisy Jones, hair in a ponytail under a navy baseball cap, sporting a pair of scruffy sneakers, a Magic Johnson Lakers jersey, and a dark pair of tight leggings he was already dying to peel off of her.
She eyed his jeans, t-shirt, hat and sneakers with some degree of trepidation before gesturing to invite him in for a moment.
He leaned down to kiss her mouth, letting his mouth brush against hers for a long satisfying moment but moved away when she began to open her mouth against his.
“Oh no, we’ve got to hit the road, and I don’t want to be distracted.” When he was with her, sometimes he forgot about things like timing and finesse. They were going on this date if it killed them.
“You wannna tell me where we’re going, Dunne?” She asked, slightly put out.
“And ruin the surprise? No, tell me about your day. How was your flight in this morning? How was your day?”
She proceeds to tell him all about her day since her flight in. Then when she’s done with that, she fills him in on Harper’s latest school drama that she had mentioned earlier in the week before asking him about the rest of his Friday.
The Eagles play pleasantly on the oldies station as they navigate the hellish LA traffic.
When they arrive, she looks absolutely confused. He wishes he had a photo of this moment.
Daisy looks up to the sign that loudly proclaims, “Hitting Zone,” as if it is in a foreign language.
“Batting cages? You’re taking me to the batting cages?”
Good, he didn’t think she even knew what a batting cage was so that’s one less thing to worry about.
“Yes, I am. Come on, I swear it’s going to be fun.” He smiles at her then as if to emphasize the point.
“What makes you think I would enjoy this in any way, Billy?” She lets out a disbelieving laugh and he’s worried for a second.
“Well, it’s definitely a place you’re not likely to be spotted. Daisy Jones at the batting cages? You’re competitive, don’t pretend you’re not. Plus, you’ve got a lot of anger and hitting things helps. Besides, I love the batting cages. Come on, I double dog dare you, Jones.”
At that she smiles gamely. “Ok, you’re on.”
He reaches into his trunk and pulls out a bag of equipment and Daisy smiles at him fondly.
“You really do love this, huh?”
“I do. Lots of good memories and some bad ones too. Come on.”
He takes her hand and drags her inside.
It takes a while to find her the perfect helmet and settle with the attendant on the fees. She looks predictably adorable in the helmet because there is nothing Daisy Jones can’t wear well. He never stood a chance, not really.
“Let me go first so you can see how it’s done.”
At first, he’s a little rusty, missing on the first four pitches out of the machine.
He swings and feels the ache in his shoulder, but it is a good ache. The weight of the bat under his hands feels satisfying.
He counts down in his head with the times.
Twack! He hits the equivalent of a double with force. He forgot how satisfying this can be.
He hits another, then another. Misses a few pitches, then hits one clean and dead centre of the bat.
By the time the round is over, he can’t keep the smile off his face.
He goes another round before he forces her to take a turn at bat.
“You’re really good at that. I didn’t know you liked baseball. Well, aside from the Pirates games that you and Graham used to listen to.”
He takes her aside and runs her through the basics. Crowds his body behind hers and teaches her how to grip the bat.
“Dais, don’t slide your hands to the bottom of the knob. You’re going to want to choke up on the bat a bit, it will give you a bit more control.”
“My, my, Billy, all this talk about choking the bat and gripping on wood.” She whispers seductively and presses her ass into the cradle of his hips where he stands behind her.
“Mind out of the gutter,” he teases but holds her just a tad closer.
He guides her through a swing a few times before setting her on the plate.
At first, she is awful. Her swings veer wildly, and he keeps having to remind her to choke up on the bat.
It is pure comedy as Daisy swears like a sailor cursing America’s favourite pastime and all those who play it. He tries to contain his laughter but fails miserably.
She makes not a single hit on her first round, and he insists she go again.
But then she starts to get better. The ball connects with the very edge of the bat moving a few feet away, but her voice is full of victory as if she’d just hit a homerun.
She hits the equivalent of a single but it’s a decent hit.
She misses a few pitches after that, then hits a clean double and the ball makes a satisfying crack as it hits her bat.
She throws the bat down and begins to dance around. “Now starting for the Yankees, number twelve, Daisy Jones.”
“Pay, attention, Dais.” But it's too late. The first thing he told her was that she needed to pay attention when in the box.
She’s too close to the plate and the machine is still going and she takes a ball directly at high speed directly to her arm.
Billy frantically yells at the kid operating the machine to hit pause, but the damage is already done.
“Fucking hell, Billy!” There are tears in the corner of her eyes and it makes him absolutely crazy.
“I’m sorry, baby. Let me see.” He takes the proffered, wounded arm gingerly. The mark on her fair skin is large, already turning dark and ugly, blood rushing to the surface of her delicate skin.
“Oh, that’s definitely going to bruise. Let’s get you some ice. I’m so sorry Daisy. This was a terrible idea. Fuck.”
“Billy, I’m fine. I was having fun till that last part. Christ, you didn’t warn me that getting hit would hurt like a son of a bitch.” And there is a little wobble in her voice but she’s trying to be brave, and he’s just gone for her, AGAIN.
“Would it make you feel better if I stood at the plate and let one of the pitches hit me?” He asks.
She blinks back tears and looks up at him, “No asshole, then we’d both be hurt.” And her every word suggests she thinks he is a moron.
“Ok, fair point. What we need is dinner and ice cream. That’s enough of this for now.”
The attendant gets her an ice pack, and Billy ices her injury till he’s content the worse of the pain has faded.
He buckles her seat belt himself when they get to his car and drives them to the park nearest to the cages.
“I’m so fucking sorry for dragging you there. I just wanted to share something I loved with you.” He explains as he guides her to the nearest picnic table where he pulls out a cooler he’d packed with food for the picnic afterwards.
He hands her a turkey, with mustard on rye, before digging into his less healthy ham and cheese.
“Billy, I’m fine. I’m not going to break. I think you know that better than most.”
He still feels the need to explain more.
“After my dad left, my mom was at work a lot. I spent a lot of time with Graham. Teaching him the guitar and making him grilled cheese mostly.” He smiles at the memories. They’re good ones but painful as well.
“I had to teach him most things. How to throw a punch, how to drive a car, even how to ask a girl out. I was just figuring out shit myself but Graham looked at me like I knew everything. I knew fucking nothing.”
“When he was seven, he got really into baseball. That’s how I got into baseball. He loved it. He saved up his allowance and bought a shitty bat off a kid in his class. He’d be out there every fucking night in our tiny, crappy backyard trying to hit the ball. He was miserable. So I taught myself so I could teach him. There was this old man who own the local batting cages, I made a bargain with him that I’d clean up the balls a few times a week, if he’d let both Graham and I practice. Graham grew out of his baseball obsession a few years later. But I’ve loved it since.”
She’s silently watching him, taking in every bit of his life that he’s offering to her.
“I tried to teach Jules when she was a kid, she never took to it. She liked soccer better. I still hit the cages on occasion though. I’d run when I needed a fix or when I wanted to get away from my problems but when I was angry, I’d come somewhere like this. I came here when Cam was diagnosed.”
She reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together. Rubs the calloused tips of her fingers along his knuckles.
When he looks at her, she’s blinking back tears. Her eyes are a shiny ocean of blue.
“I wanted you to know.” He did want her to know all this.
He knows she wants to trust him. He wants that too. They both aren’t sure how to get there except it involves a lot of tiny steps. He thinks this can be one of them.
“Thank you for telling me.” She leans up and kisses him gently on the mouth. This time, he lets her open her mouth against his until their tongues brush lightly.
They kiss, and kiss, as the spring sunlight begins to fade, and he can taste the mustard on her tongue.
She pulls away gently and looks into his eyes. When she speaks, her voice is serious, “Billy, you promised me ice cream or was that just a bribe to get me to stop crying?”
He cracks a smile.
“No, I meant it.” They find the nearest ice cream truck and settle for walking around with their soft serve vanilla cones.
The car ride back they sing along to the radio, this time to Tom Petty. When the song changes to something they both don’t like, he turns the radio off and teaches her the words to, “Take Me Out To The Ball Game.”
He walks her to her door where they linger a bit too long.
“Good first date?” He asks partially teasing but also half serious.
“Yes, great first date,” she tilts her head as if giving real thought to his question. “Well, except for the maiming but everything else was perfect.”
By this time, she’s got those tiny fingers in the belt loops of his jeans and she’s pulling him a little closer. She gets her other hand under his shirt, and idly scratches at the hair low on his belly, he shudders but won’t let himself get distracted.
He can’t help but press for more. “Worth it?”
And she looks up again and this time her expression is incomprehensible.
“Worth waiting for,” she agrees.
Her fingers dance along the fly of his jeans and he can feel his cock plump a bit against the denim.
He leans down to kiss her and this time she tastes like the vanilla ice cream from earlier and knows she tastes the same thing on his mouth.
She begins to pull him backwards as she leans on the door, turning around to lead them both inside.
“You were right about one thing, Dais,” he growls against her ear and feels her shiver.
“I am traditional. Night, Daisy.”
Then he forces himself to walk away before another look at her in those leggings can change his mind.
He hears her curse him to his back, but he doesn’t slow down.
He whistles, “Take Me Out to The Ball Game,” the whole way home.