#jimmy page fan fiction led zeppelin

[jimmys-zeppelin]

moonbeam

ch. v

table of contents

may 14, 1998

Sabrina entered Clarence’s with a food-full plastic bag in her hand. Lunch. And she was starving.

There were still a few finishing touches she had to put on the second of Jimmy’s three suits. She wouldn’t be done with the third until Sunday at the least. Luckily, she had peace of mind in knowing he would only need one of the suits for his trip. She debated giving him a call about the status of his garments…

Perhaps it would be too much.

But he said to call, her mind urged her.

“Fuck this,” Sabrina muttered to herself. Upon entering her office, the silence was serene. The tinny Lionel Richie playing inside the store was muffled behind the makeshift partition and she hummed along to All Night Long as she unpacked her Chinese takeaway. A few loud steps boomed up the creaky staircase—footsteps she knew well as Daniel’s—and soon his tall, lanky figure appeared into the office.

She muttered a ‘hello’ to him while taking her seat at her desk. Daniel did the same, waving to her with similar regard. He had propped open a book and smacked a piece of gum between his teeth. Fresh out of university, Daniel had a degree in Textiles; something Sabrina had no idea was a possible degree path.

The irony of the situation was that he was apprenticing under her. It gave Sabrina a silly boost to her ego.

She split her chopsticks and cracked open her Coke before she began to dig in. Not halfway into her first mouthful of chicken fried rice, Daniel slapped his book shut and an uncomfortable silence fell over them.

"I heard Jimmy Page was in for a fitting?" he asked.

Sabrina froze, slowly finishing her mouthful of food while the sound of her heart pounded throughout her entire body.

She gulped, "Yeah...last week."

"Fuck. Right when I catch a cold. How was he? What did he get?"

"Three suits. I've finished two of them."

"Seriously?" he exclaimed.

"Dunno why everyone's shitting themselves about this guy. He's just a normal bloke. Very nice." And kinda hot...

"Sab, I know you like the Spice Girls and that George Michael fruit but this guy was huge back in the day. I wonder why he'd even come to our store to be fitted."

"My dad and brother buzz off rock music so I know who he is, but he's a normal person. And he's a regular here, comes at least once every week or so. Guess he likes the savings," Sabrina shrugged.

Daniel's eyebrows furrowed, "How come I've never seen him?"

"Just unlucky, I guess," she teased, a grin spreading over her face. "I gave him your card, though. Mine hadn't come in yet so I put in a good word for you."

Excitement shone through his eyes, seemingly jumping for joy while stationed in his seat, "I could kiss you right now, Sab," then paused to think. "Did he leave his number?"

"Yeah, but I'd have to find the note I made with it."

A partial lie. Sabrina had written his number into her files for safekeeping, but she had left his receipt at her flat. She could practically see it laying beside her phone, the numbers begging to be dialed and given a chance.

"When you do, I wanna call to tell him the suits are ready," Daniel stood.

Sabrina guffawed, "Why would I let you call when I've done all the work?"

"Sab, what if he answers? It'd be an honor to tell him his suits are ready to be picked up."

"You sound like my brother right now," she chuckled. "He was practically on his knees asking for Jimmy's phone number after I told him."

"Please," he begged. He stepped closer to Sabrina's desk, picking one of the three fortune cookies she'd gotten with her meal.

“No,” she answered, “When you get your own famous client, then you can call them whenever you want.”

☽

The dial tone droned through the phone's receiver. Sabrina fought with herself over whether or not to press the final number to Jimmy's phone number. A sudden impulse decision made her press the number and soon the phone began to ring.

As her palms became increasingly sweatier, Sabrina could only imagine the conversation ahead. What would he say? How would he say it? What would she say? Suddenly, she felt transported back to her secondary school days when calling her crush's phone number. Then, she felt dumb.

She shook the anxiety from her mind and when the last ring was about to complete itself, the line clicked, "Hello?" his gentle voice said through the phone. Sabrina felt her heart melt just a little inside.

"Hi, this is Sabrina from Clarence's. Is this Jimmy?" Sabrina said the message as she normally would have to a normal customer. But she and Jimmy knew that he was anything but a normal customer and their interactions were anything but normal.

"Hi, Sabrina. This is Jimmy, yes. How are you?" Jimmy asked.

Sabrina smiled to herself, a step shy of giggling into the phone. "Good, thank you. And yourself?"

"Much better now," he paused to exhale amusedly. "Are you calling about the suits?"

"Yes, actually. The black and blue suits are ready for pickup, but the green one will have to wait until Sunday. I know you said you only needed one ready for today, but I tried my best to have all of them ready for you."

"That's quite alright, Sabrina. Shall I stop by this afternoon to pick them up?"

"That would be splendid, Jimmy."

Splendid?

"And will I have the honor of seeing you? I like to thank my tailors personally after I've seen their handiwork."

Sabrina felt her heart race in her chest when he spoke, "I'll be here until four as usual."

Jimmy paused for what seemed like a check of his watch. "I should get going then..." he chuckled. "I'll have someone come pick me up and I should be there soon."

"Sounds good," she paused for a beat, "People are buzzing about your appearance last week. I just spoke with Daniel over lunch and he was very upset to have missed you."

"Maybe he can alter some other piece of clothing I should buy and he can make my acquaintance. But I think I'm set on who I have altering my clothes now."

"Oh really? Who would that be, then?"

Jimmy laughed softly, "You, of course, darling."

"Oh—" Sabrina started, overcome with a short wave of shock at his response. "You haven't even seen my work yet and you're already praising it."

"You do a great job as a cashier. And you are head of alterations, aren't you?"

"That doesn't have anything to do with the work I do—"

"It has everything to do with it," Jimmy answered enthusiastically. "Listen, I'll be there in an hour. Can you wait for me?"

Daniel's footsteps came up the stairs once again. Sabrina was relieved the conversation had been coming to an end when he entered through the curtain. He furrowed his brow and signaled the phone with his fingers, silently asking who she was talking to.

"Of course I can wait, Jimmy," she said.

"Jimmy Page?” Daniel whispered loudly, nearly jumping for joy at the prospect. Sabrina nodded, turning away from him so as not to distract from her conversation.

"Beautiful...I'll see you, Sabrina."

Her heart fluttered, "Bye, Jimmy," she said. Upon placing the phone back onto the receiver, Sabrina let out a deep sigh, collapsing herself onto the desk.

“Not fair,” Daniel complained. He let out a distressed sigh before continuing, "I need your help with a customer. Are you busy?"

☽

Sabrina stood outside in the back alleyway of Clarence’s with Conner as he puffed on a cigarette. This was their usual ritual during the warmer months when she needed an additional moment away from the cash register or sewing machine. Conner didn’t mind, he enjoyed the extra bit of conversation while not being under the managerial watchful eye. She had had no qualms about the hobby itself, but the stench of the tobacco brought back nauseating memories.

Yet, despite this, she held an unlit cigarette between her fingers to further cast the illusion that she was on a “smoke break”.

"Why are you stood out here with me again?" Conner asked, not minding Sabrina as he flicked his bright green Bic.

The weather was too warm to be with a sweater, yet too cool to comfortably be without one. Sabrina rocked back and forth on her heels waiting to see if Jimmy's car would approach; an attempt at raising her body heat.

"Needed the fresh air,” she answered.

"You're second-hand smoking off me, Sab."

"Yeah, you should really kick that habit..." she said mindlessly, still stretching her neck to peer out into the quiet street. She rolled the cigarette between her fingers nervously.

"Why? So we can stand here and look like a couple of drug dealers?" Conner laughed, inhaling and blowing the air away from Sabrina's face, only for the wind to blow it back in her direction.

Sabrina rolled her eyes, "It's not good for you. Anyway, I'm headed back in; I'm starting to get cold out here."

"Is Jimmy coming back today?" Conner teased. "I heard Daniel talking shit earlier."

"About me?" Sabrina asked with a laugh. To his nod she said, "He's just jealous because he's the one who wants to be face deep in Jimmy's crotch."

"You say that like you weren't absolutely drooling all over him the other day."

"I wasn't!" Sabrina shot back. "If anything, Jimmy's the one flirting with me."

Conner hummed in disagreement, "I think you like the older ones and don't realize it, Sab. Just be careful. Men like him have whole mausoleums in their wardrobes. And those skeletons are dusty..." he said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"How would you know?"

"You just know, Sabrina," he insisted. "What time is it?"

She checked the time on her watch, "Nearly four. Jimmy's probably here already. I'll catch you inside,” she said, passing Conner back his cigarette.

"Later," he replied, watching as Sabrina headed back out into the street to enter back into Clarence's through the front.

Sabrina was barely in the door when she heard someone call her name from the sidewalk. Jimmy, with his hands deep in his pockets, started on a light jog so as to approach her faster.

"Glad I caught you," he smiled, the corners of his eyes scrunching so all she could see were his pupils. He held the door for her as they entered back into the store; the regulated temperature bringing Sabrina some relief.

"I thought I had nearly missed you," Sabrina replied. "I was just in the back for a little bit. Taking in some outside air."

"Long day?"

"It's been alright. Nothing too bad," She began leading him back up into the fitting area. They bypassed her coworkers who seemed not to notice Jimmy—at least for the time being.

Jimmy's suits were hung in a changing booth where Sabrina had gone to retrieve them. She gave the zipped up bags a good pat before coming into the main area. "Do you want to take a look?"

He shook his head and reached out to Sabrina for the bags that nearly matched her height. They looked much smaller in his grasp. "I trust you."

"Do you?" She teased.

Jimmy took a deep breath, his exhale making it obvious he was holding back a laugh.

"Come on, Jimmy, I just want to see if you like them."

"I'm sure I will, Sabrina."

"Please," Sabrina countered. She batted her eyelids so as to draw a laugh from him. This time she broke through, once again getting the chance to see the delicate crow's feet bunch up by his eyes and to see the shake of his head as he couldn't believe she’d gotten him. It was only then that she noted his cologne again. The combination of it with the smell of the leather jacket he wore was sure to stir up any woman's interest.

He grimaced a bit at her begging, still sure (as he had said) that her work would have been to the quality that he had expected. But just to give her the satisfaction, Jimmy unzipped the bag and examined the navy colored suit coat and eyed it meticulously.

"Just as I thought. Wonderful work, Sabrina."

Sabrina nodded. "Thank you," she paused, "You can, uhm, you can call me Sab—if you want. All my friends call me Sab." she cringed as the words left her mouth, though, couldn't reverse them now.

"Sab," Jimmy replied, testing out how the name sounded on his lips. He played with the 'B' at the end for a moment, saying her name in full before fixing his gaze back onto her.

"You got it out of your system?" she smiled.

"I'm only teasing. I'll keep that in mind."

"Have you got any nicknames?" she asked.

"Just Jimmy. My full name's James."

"That rhymes," Sabrina chuckled. "Anyone call you Jim?"

"Not anyone that I like," he answered, his eyes firmly on hers the entire time, occasionally glancing away to map out the features of her face. She knew he had spotted not only the dark circles beneath her eyes, but also the smile lines that her mother nagged her about on a consistent basis. Jimmy held an amused look in his eyes, like he wanted to say something he couldn't.

Sabrina felt that she was unable to look away from him. His face seemed to have so much to offer her: dimpled cheeks further made charming by the combination of time and weight; Adam's apple bobbing as he took in steady breaths; the soft curl of his hair swiping his forehead like an older Superman trying hard to retain his image. All combined, she simply couldn't peel her eyes off him.

"Alright then," Sabrina said, "So you're happy with the suits? They'll serve you adequately for your time in America?"

"Absolutely. Thank you very much, Sab," he replied, nudging her with his elbow.

"You're very welcome. And since you've paid, you're free to go," she said, using her heels to begin rocking back and forth again.

"Alright, so I'll see you around then. I'll come get the last suit when I come back."

Sabrina nodded, "Safe travels, Jimmy."

He gave her a small smile and nodded. Jimmy's hand came out to touch her shoulder and it was as if all the cells in her body froze. Her breath hitched softly, then was a soft squeeze of his hand. Seconds later, he was gone again, and Sabrina watched as he trotted down the steps. She didn’t move a single muscle until well after she heard the jingling bells of the front door, signifying Jimmy’s exit.

☽

Later, Sabrina had come to find out that Jimmy had left her an extra hundred pounds as gratuity at the register. Much to her dismay, she pocketed it on her way out the door. A fleeting thought entered her mind that she should give him a call and reprimand him for his tip.

Then she debated if it was even worth it. She didn't want to make it seem as if she was too comfortable around him. After all, she barely knew him. That wasn’t to say she wasn't against getting to know him better.

The Northern line train rumbled along its tracks and Sabrina idly watched as people engaged in a myriad of activities. One woman sat with her nose in a book, her presumed son seated beside her, beating the living shit out of his Gameboy. Another man stoically read his Wembley Observer; the front page reading "Bid to Oust Tory Chief", something Sabrina would have to ask her father about later on.

She was nearly asleep on the train up to Brent Cross. Her mother had insisted she come for dinner as she had cooked extra and "wanted her daughter back home", if only for one night. Sabrina couldn't deny that a home cooked meal would do her some good. She could barely fry an egg without setting her flat ablaze so she was stuck with shoddy sandwiches and cheap takeout.

The train slowed to a stop at Brent Cross station, the tiled signs becoming clearer with each passing moment. Sabrina barely wasted a second following the opening of the doors before she was on the platform and weaving through the corridors she grew to know so well.

Her father's red Volkswagen flashed its lights at her upon her exiting the station. Sabrina made a quick approach to the car, entering the vehicle to see her father's outstretched arms.

Granting him the hug, Sabrina's father hummed contentedly. "Always great to receive a hug from your child. How are you Beanie?"

"No longer a child, that's for sure, Dad," Sabrina chuckled. "Where's Zach?" she asked as the car backed away from its spot.

"Home. Your mum needed help with something or other..." he trailed off, forgetting just why Zachary had stayed at home. He waved off the question. "You been alright, dear?"

Sabrina nodded, answering, "Everything's...going."

"Your mother worries about you being in that flat all alone. I tell her you'll be fine, but of course I worry about you, too, darling."

A pang of muted annoyance hit her, but she knew he had a good point. Nonetheless, she had to dispel their worries.

"I think I might get back into dating soon...maybe I'll have someone to keep me even more safe,” she lied.

"Oh, don't tell your mother," her father breathed a laugh, "She'll ask too many questions. Plus she's still holding out hope for Shaun..." he trailed off.

Sabrina scoffed. “What for?”

“Oh, come on, Beanie. You were together so long. Don’t tell me he’s dead to you already.”

That and more. “Shaun’s a prick,” she said, unable to hold back.

There was a tsk of his tongue, "Don't say that."

It was much quieter following the stunted conversation point about Shaun. Sabrina knew that what he had done didn't deserve her forgiveness; not for a very long time. There was no way her parents would understand his actions, either. This all left her in even more of a dilemma with her "beloved" ex-boyfriend.

"Heard any good music lately?" Sabrina tried. They were nearly home free, the familiar turns of the streets she had spent her childhood and teenage years on started to flood her mind with memories.

"Just my old eight-tracks. Stones, Clapton, this, that, the other. You?"

"I don't know," Sabrina trailed off, "Not much besides the radio playing at work. CD's, the like." She shrugged.

"Oh, I have a CD you may like. Remind me to get it for you before you leave," his fingers tapped at the steering wheel in time to the bass of the song playing quietly on the radio. They pulled into the driveway.

"Yeah? Who?"

"George Michael. I picked it up 'cause it looked interesting and it was quite good. Think you'll like it."

“What’s it called?” she asked, hoping the disc wouldn’t be one she already had in her collection.

“Something like Star Girl or what have you…it’s only got a few songs on it. But it has that song you like on it, Everything She Wants. An acoustic version of it.”

Excitement filled Sabrina’s chest. She had been putting off buying the Star People ‘97 single mostly because of her inability to justify the purchase. But she had also been unable to buy it because she could never find it in any shops near her. It was a wonder how her father had managed to encounter it in the tiny shops of Brent Cross. She would interrogate further once she had the disc in her hands.

As the two entered Sabrina's childhood home, the look and feel of the place always gave her an indescribable blast from the past. The wallpapered walls were the same as the ones that littered the backgrounds of hers and Zachary's childhood photos.

The shag carpet had been freshly hoovered—meaning shoes were forbidden until the carpet was trampled over again—the colors remained the very same, if not a bit faded from time. Sabrina gripped at the long carpet with her socks just as she had many-a-time in her teenage years when being lectured at dinner.

She could already tell this visit home wasn’t going to be the relaxing break from reality she was hoping. There was something in the air. And Sabrina didn’t like it one bit.

Everyone managed pleasantries as usual, but once around the table, the atmosphere made Sabrina more uneasy.

The clinking of silverware on ceramic put Sabrina’s nerves on edge and the usual delicious smell of Yorkshire pudding was rancid in her nostrils.

"David, did you get the radishes at the market like I asked you to?" Her mother, Georgia, asked.

The adult children very well knew the answer to the question. The two merely exchanged glances, hoping to god they would be spared from a passive aggressive discussion between their parents.

David looked up from his plate. He pretended a pondering look before looking regrettably at his wife, "Sorry George, I forgot," he swallowed, "Was so excited to see our Beanie that it slipped my mind."

Sabrina's mother fixed her gaze to her instead, "Sabrina, you'll never guess who I spoke to this week."

She broke off a piece of Yorkshire pudding and thought through all the people she could have possibly spoken to. She came up empty. "Hm?"

Zachary's foot nudged Sabrina's beneath the table. The knowing look he gave her made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. Her expression turned in an instant.

"Shaun called this week," Georgia quipped excitedly, "Don't make that face! He said he wishes you both left off on a better note."

"Mum—" Sabrina started.

"Plus, he was so keen on proposing! And you went and clipped his wings, darling. He was so upset, the poor thing."

Finding that she couldn't possibly muster a response, Sabrina stared idly back at her mother.

"Say something, dear, don't just stare at me all bug-eyed."

"I haven't quite come to terms with him myself, Mum. I still need to do some personal reflection," Sabrina answered as calmly as she could manage.

"What does that even mean?" she threw her hands up. "I invited him for dinner on Sunday. I'd better hope you'll be in attendance."

Sabrina took another beat. "I'll have to politely decline. I'm busy this Sunday."

"Oh—" Georgia said. "You'll be missed, then."

"Sab, can you pass the mash, please?" Zachary mumbled. Without a word, she obliged, transferring the heavy bowl to her brother's hands.

The buzzing in her pocket diverted Sabrina's attention. She furrowed her brow, angling herself in her seat to better retrieve her phone from her jeans. "Sorry," she said.

Jimmy Page — mobile flashed on the screen back at her. Sabrina blinked once, then twice. The name didn't budge. Eventually she stared long enough that the call dropped. It was only then that she heard her heart pounding in her ears and felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

She wondered what Jimmy could have possibly wanted from her at this hour...

“Everything okay?” her father asked.

Sabrina couldn’t help a stammer. "Sorry, it was—uhm—a colleague."

"You're red as a tomato…quite some colleague," Zachary chuckled. Sabrina kicked him beneath the table and quickly put her cell phone back into her pocket. She reached for her glass of water, downing the rest of the liquid as the rest of the table sat in silence.

The feeling of her cell phone in her pocket was now an unwelcome intrusion. Conversation carried on between Sabrina’s family as she idly sat there. Stewing.

The assumption of Sabrina’s mother that she would be enthusiastic about dinner with Shaun followed by the unsolicited call from Jimmy was the one-two punch she didn’t know would be coming her way that evening. Perhaps this was the horrible sick-to-her-stomach feeling that had welcomed her into her parent’s home just half an hour earlier.

“Excuse me,” Sabrina said suddenly. Her feet carried her up the stairs, muscle memory guiding her back to her lilac and white striped bedroom. She swung the door closed, not quite slamming it, but pushing it hard enough that the door easily clicked into place.

“God,” she exhaled, letting her breath go as if she had been holding it in for much too long. Her face was hot and she pushed her thick, dark hair out away from her eyes. Her vision clouded over and she let herself go for long enough that her cheeks became streaked with tears. She wiped them away quickly, not fully allowing herself to have the moment she so desperately needed in light of her mother’s insensitivity.

Sabrina looked around her childhood bedroom, turning so she could reach for the sticker-laden light switch. The wallpaper that had been cut around it had been peeling for fifteen years, the yellowing beginning only recently. The warm glow of the yellow light placed Sabrina back into the mid-80s. The Raggedy Ann doll on her bed, the gargantuan Wham! poster on the wall above her headboard, and finally, her vanity. Looking at it now, she kind of wanted to take it back to her flat with her. The vanity that once held dozens of perfume bottles and all sorts of makeup products was now so empty it looked out of place in her old bedroom.

She sat on the pink suede-cushioned stool, crossing one leg over the other and holding her face in her hands. Her breath was the only sound she focused on for a long while. The steadiness brought her back to a better sense of calm. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket; an attempt to better examine what had just happened.

MISSED CALL

Jimmy Page — mobile

CALL BACK | EXIT

“Why the fuck…?” Sabrina whispered to herself. Her fingers ghosted between the arrow keys of “Call Back” and “EXIT” and considered calling him back before nervousness got the better of her and she clicked away from the pop-up.

Footsteps became louder as they squeaked up the staircase, nearer and nearer to her bedroom. Silence. Then, “Sab?” Zachary’s muffled voice came through the door. “You alright?”

In a rush, Sabrina stood and shoved her phone back into her pocket. “Yeah!” she exclaimed all too loud, “I’m—I just needed a minute.”

The door opened without so much as a knock, “I told her not to say anything about Shaun, that you wouldn’t—”

“It’s okay, Zach. It’s my fault I haven’t told her what happened yet.”

“Well, yeah, but you shouldn't have to. It’s over, she shouldn’t keep pestering you about him.”

Sabrina sighed, “I know. I know…”

There was a lull, Zachary staring at the floor, not wanting to ask, but desperately wanting to know…

“So, who called you?” he asked, a smile growing on either side of his lips.

--

masterlist | playlist | ao3

taglist: @keepcalmandcarryfire @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @modernloverss @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx @blackberryblossom @jimmypages @foreverandadaydarling @lzep @n0quart3r @verrbena-in-the-air if you want to be added to the list let me know!

[n0quart3r]

need more jimmy fics 😔

[untilthenextencore]

Nights To Remember Pt. 1: Of Gods & Goddesses & Magick & Memories~...

Backstory: Summer 1973~. Jimmy & Dahlia had gotten married in the past year~. Some of the more territorial newer wannabe groupies are having a hard time coping with not just her continual presence on tour, but now Dahlia's new status as THE Mrs. Page~. Her & Robert's displaying their close friendship doesn't help~.

Their subsequent finding a friendly way to deal with their boredom amongst the goings on that the hangers on & wannabe groupies live for by escaping certainly doesn't help~.

Robert offers the escape~. He's always been a little in awe of Pagey's choice of girl both in general in the early days, but also in the form of his chosen one, Dahlia~. She is so familiar yet foreign to him it makes his head spin~. So worldly, yet down to earth~. A mix of city yet downhome that he might've chosen for himself if he had the chance~. But as far as he's known her she's been Pagey's~. Solidly, decidedly, faithfully Pagey's~.

Suffice to say, even in his happiest moments in the friendship he's conflicted~. Even though they're not cheating or going behind Pagey's back~.

But when he finds himself even moreso conflicted about the cloak & dagger aspect of their innocent little excursion, that he himself offered initially, he then finds the idea of Pagey finding out also somehow doesn't appeal to him~.

~

Ho hum. Another day. Another dollar. Another concert. Another party. Another night to remember. Until they forget it all in the morning. Or lose track of which night in the sea of "nights to remember" held the goings on their shattered minds remembered only fractures of at tour's end. Glittered & goggle eyed groupies frantically flipped over themselves to catch the eye of anyone who was anyone in King Robert's court. Or so it seemed.

True. Robert was holding court like he was king. One of four at least. But being in the middle of yet another tour - an American one at that - only meant one thing. Like the others he was left without a queen. Only one of their roundtable could however not lay claim to such a misfortune. The luckiest one among them. The wizard in his stars & moon suit himself. James Patrick Page.

No. Because as ever Jimmy had brought along his lady. Lady Dahlia-Maria Dominguez Page. The Lady who was a natural creative herself it seemed. She & her camera, while remaining discreet & unobtrusive, furnished some of the most intimate portraits of the band allowed. A few Peter even sold at the merch table, netting her a tidy sum of her own aside from being married to he of the led wallet and house of Tower.

Though she only released a few here and there. She too liked to maintain her own brand of privacy. Despite the wingding that was their wedding in Hampton Court Palace - of all bleeding places - in the past year, she really preferred a smaller do generally. Friends & family & neighborhood kin & no more. As was borne out by the smaller dos held in Mexico at her family's small yet palatial feeling compound in Jalisco that was something of an early childhood home for her & Pagey's place in England for family that could not swing airfare for a trip to the palace.

Which begged the question.

What the hell was she doin here?!

Not that he begrudged her presence itself. Not at all. Robert & Dahlia always seemed to get on rather well. Down home types lost in the Wonderland that was the entertainment business. Though even with her downhome partial Mexican upbringing Dahlia was decidedly still more of a city girl to this country boy.

Being an LA local, Dahlia knew it like the back of her prettily manicured hand. A hand she also often used in keeping much of the frivolity at arm's length. Even when in the middle of it all. She seemingly always sat apart. That was what Robert didn't understand about her presence in such madness.

Clearly the groupies agreed. Equally manicured hands being verily filed into a point, eager to tear at a tawny-skinned throat as their owner's gripped. "What is SHE doing here?!" Calling her everything but a child of God or what her father's own book termed their culture, "Children of the Sun".

No matter.

She seemingly stayed unaffected.

Toying with her engagement & wedding rings just so. Arranging the gold bangle bracelets or matching pendant. Her only flashes of vanity or pride being her only answer. Letting both that & her presence along with the 5000 other ways she was the "chosen one" of the Mr. James Patrick Page do the talking for her. Knowing her, if she were feeling cheeky she might whip out her instant camera & take a pic of the offending party, leaving some hanger on to deliver it & with it the picture proof / photo evidence of their bitterness as she & her beloved husband tangled fingers & held hands. They can have a pic. She had the real thing.

Guinevere was not giving up her throne.

Unbothered by the petty strife clawing at the door, begging to enter her beloved Camelot.

Rather, she looked bored, really.

Jimmy had disappeared with Bonzo. Off to take a powder likely. She had been chatting with Jonesy about books & things to get his girls & Mo back home, but now he too was off somewhere. Hangers on knew better than to try to ingratiate themselves with her. She had iced them out before. Now they well knew. There was no way in to the Page / Zeppelin inner sanctum with her.

As further proof, both of her seeming boredom & inaccessibility by groupie or hanger on, Robert saw her pull a small book out of her purse. That was Dahlia. Forever a bookworm. Sodom & Gomorrah at her feet. Head in the clouds. Nose in a book.

Before he knew it, Robert felt himself propelled towards her, stumbling a few times when a glittered & bejeweled fan flung & slung herself over him. Extricating himself deftly every time he uttered a soft, "Not this time, darlin'." "Maybe another night, doll." Or even "What will me missus, think?" Laughing his way out of harm's way as he bid them good night & left them to join the party. He caught more curses & sotto-voce snipes when they saw in what direction he was heading. But no matter. His course was set. Off he traveled to the "land of the people of the sun".

It was then that he allowed his six foot sun-people seeking self to cast a shadow over her in the midst of her reading. This had the intended effect of having the dim light she had been reading under all but disappear as he blocked it out. She whirled around to regard him with sharp eyes that were cut to him in momentary disgust. Her lips pursed as a similarly sharp tongue went about finding the right barb to fling before suddenly dropping its weapon. Her eyes widened before her gaze then softened in mirth as she lifted her arm in modified Roman salute, hand tilted upwards slightly. "Hail, Apollo. What brings the Sun God to these darkened shores?"

Sun God? He quite liked the sound of that. So he decided to play along, wracking his brain for his schoolboy Mythology.

"Hail, Aphrodite. I come in peace." He said, mimicking her salute with the hand that was not holding his beloved ale. "Or should it be Persephone, luv? By the way... Where is our beloved Hades?" Robert craved his neck around, looking for the dark-haired lord of the underworld that always seemed to be lurking around every corner when she was involved. "My stars." He gasped, putting a hand to his bared chest for affect. "I see no star suited one for miles. How is that possible?"

"I think he's off with your fellow northern friend right now. The one who plays either Dionysus or Ares if the bacchanalia goes too far." Dahlia quipped, her lips quirking into a wry grin as she pointed to Jonesy at the bar. "Hermes just left himself as well."

"Foolish ones they are." He tsked, shaking his head. "Leaving one so fair alone in the midst of such bacchanalia indeed."

Looking down he saw that where the glittered ones would have blushed or fluttered their eyelashes & twirled a curl of hair into a coil in flirtation, that was decidedly not Dahlia's - nor Aphrodite or Persephone's - way. Instead, she stayed looking up at him with the same wry grin & mirthful if still piercing stare along with a soft incredulous shake of the head. Her lips said nothing. But those eyes? Those eyes said EVERYTHING.

Clearing his throat & lubricating himself & his suddenly dry mouth with more ale, he jutted his chin at her book. "Whatcha readin' there, luv?"

"A mini collection of Harlem Renaissance poetry. Some classics. The usual." She marked her page & closed it to show him the cover art. Brown bodies arced & curved in exultation.

"Classics indeed. Your usual. A nice addition to your other usual Agatha Christies." He grinned. "What for?"

"Just because." She shrugged as she pocketed the book. "And because I figure if I'm to live in the aftermath of the Swinging Sixties... The Roaring Seventies some have termed... I better brush up on how the times used to Roar back in the day. Better brush up on my Cotton Club classic bacchanalia... Although..." She cast a suddenly weary look across all the goings on around them. Glittering, giggling, sharpened nails & tongues of hardened decidedly un flowerchild GTO like groupies & grubby fingered, coke jittery, tipsy-drunk, outstretched-handed hangers on included & heated a sigh. "Forgive me for saying but this pales in comparison to my childhood dreams of the Cotton Club."

"Indeed." He nodded with another sip of his ale. So she saw what he did that night. What he felt. She felt it too.

"I mean, not to be ungrateful or anything. Knowing how you like it & all. "Prince of Peace" that you are." There was that quirk of her lips again as she drawled the last part out.

Try as he might not to, he winced at the memory of those words leaving his lips unironically. Ah, so she had heard that story too. Of course she had. Was nothing a secret in this God forsaken place?!

His momentary embarrassment was compounded at the same time he was delightfully distracted by the sound of her sweet giggle. "I know how much fun you have typically. And I get how you dig the scene generally speaking. It just doesn't... It doesn't... It doesn't really do it for me... Not much... I mean all these people... They'd probably not spit on me if I were on fire if I wasn't with you guys. If I wasn't Mrs. Page. Hell, half of them would likely be the ones holding the match. Some of them still would now!" She cut her eyes in half dismissal half bemusement at the nail-filing bile-spitting groupies.

Naturally, she saw that too. Nothing escapes a goddess's eyes. A queen misses nothing.

"To clink glasses & break bread with them feels so false & disingenuous. Knowing all that, I mean. That's another reason I have this book." She tapped the book with a finger before closing her purse around it. "That way, I don't have to."

"Suffice to say, grateful though I am to be invited to these things, considering some of the company that find their way in... This ain't exactly my kinda party, Planty." She took her champagne glass from the table, clinking it with his bottle. "Cheers." Before downing the swallow or two that remained.

A moment passed in silent agreement. Robert having nodded at everything she said. The falsehoods of their lifestyle that were apparently hitting him hard that night, she had always seen. Hence her keeping it all at arm's length. Alice falling down a rabbit hole but landing on her own two feet. Dorothy traveling through Oz in a bubble of her own design. Pagey or not, his girl had her own magick. This he had always known. So had Pagey, he surmised, as evident by the rock on her finger as much as anything else.

"What is your type of party, luv? Missing Hampton Court?" He teased, though he knew her well enough to know better.

"No indeed." She laughed, nodding as he refilled her glass. "Thank you, kind sir." Then after a sip, she continued. "Even I know that night was a one in a million. A once in a lifetime event. Though that indeed was a night to remember as you well know."

There went that phrase again. At least this time it was worth it. That night truly was one to remember for all involved. Mariachis and Led Zeppelin acoustic jam at Hampton Court. Would wonders never cease? That had to be a first for all involved!

"But, c'mon blondie!" She nudged him, shaking him out of his reverie.

A reverie of her in her wedding whites with glittering mantilla veil coming down the aisle towards at the altar, seated next to Pagey, dancing with Pagey... And the dances he was able to share with her himself. Cor, was she a vision then. A lovelier bride he had hardly ever known.

Shaking out a wince at the thought of even thinking thar when he had his own missus at home... One who had a decidedly less ritzy do when her own turn came years earlier... He again silenced these demons with another swig of ale & turned his eyes back to the dusky goddess queen vision at hand.

"You know what it is. What my kind of party is. You know it about as well as Jimmy. Think about it."

"Jalisco?" Robert asked.

"Well, yeah." She nodded. "Yes, of course. But what about stateside? You remember. Though it's been awhile."

Robert instantly got hit with another blast from the past and he rattled off the vignettes as they came flashing back to him. "East LA. Whittier Boulevard. The Chuco." A quaint little chill hangout spot for local Chicano youth that played a mix of oldies, early rock'n'roll, Chicano groups, Latin jazz & Mexican or Latin music of all kinds.

Dahlia snapped her fingers & pointed at him. "Bingo. That's it. That's it exactly, Robert. That's my kind of party. All of it."

"Why don't we go back tonight then?" Robert offered with yet another swig from his bottle.

Dahlia paused mid thought. Mid answer. Her mouth falling open in a silent gasp & lack of immediate response. Try as she might, she couldn't really think of a reason not to. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she also really wanted to. Really wanted to. But still, she had to ask.

"Right now?" She whispered conspiratorially.

"Why not?" He shrugged. "S'gotta be better than this lot, yeah?"

Dahlia gave a quick look around & then went back to regarding Robert with a bemused smirk. "Don't you think they might miss you, your highness? I mean, how could they not miss their beloved Prince of Peace?"

He winced again at the little rib. (Dahlia was one of the rare very few whose barbs both landed & made him laugh.) But he did his best to play it off with a laugh & a wry grin of his own as he mused. "We'll be back."

Dahlia cast her eyes back over the bacchanalia, mulling things over. Another moment passed before she shot to her feet, tossing a soft voiced request over her shoulder. "Wait right here."

She then left the table & crossed over the room to Peter sitting at the bar with his ever present cigar, tapping him on the shoulder. She whispered something in his ear which had the cigar chomping bear of a man nearly dropping his cigar in shock as his jaw nearly slackened. He muttered something back, motioning to the goings on to which she shook her head, explaining further. She motioned across the room, lifting her hands in a quizzical shrug before pointing to the door, which was guarded shut. Then folding her hands together, she evidently pleads her case. And surprise surprise, wizened, hard negotiator Peter folds. He relents.

Peter motions to Magnet - of all people - pointing to her & motioning to a back entrance & hence exit. Dahlia squealed, leaping into Peter's arms & giving him a grateful squeeze. Peter grinned, hugging her back & patting her on the back with a meaty hand, making sure to keep his lit cigar away from her & keeping her safe from the ashes.

Upon breaking the hug, Dahlia turned to motion to Robert himself & tell Peter something else that nearly made him drop his cigar again. Peter's eyes widened & then narrowed. Clearly telling Peter that Robert too would be making his exit & taking his leave just then.

Peter's gaze sharpened... Not with malice... But with knowledge... He knew Robert... His types... His wonts... Or wants...

Robert knew this well...

And so it was that as Robert sidled up to both Magnet & Dahlia, he heard something above the whines & curses of the groupies. A few gruff words grunted in Cole's direction by his behemoth of a manager that cut through the din. "Get Pagey..."

Hustling himself along with her & Magnet out the door, Robert did his best to avoid Peter's gaze from then on out. Helping her into her jacket, which was really one of Pagey's more subtle, casual & less spangled boleros, Robert couldn't help but ask. "What was that about, luv?"

"Oh nothing..." She shrugged before thanking him & Magnet for opening her door & helping her into the car respectively. "Thank you. Such gentlemen." The tension Robert felt was broken by a shared giggle between the three before she continued. "I just told Peter I wanted to leave & hit up East LA for awhile before we head back to the Hyatt. He asked if Pagey was coming & I said he disappeared with Bonz for a bit & I couldn't find him. Besides, he was having fun last I knew, so I didn't want to pull him away from him being able to relax."

"I see..." He trotted over to his side of the car, slipping inside himself with Magnet shielding him from view of any lurking groupies as best as he could. "And the motioning to me & the party at hand, luv?"

"Simple." Dahlia explained, punctuating her words with the click of her belt. "I told him to tell Jimmy where I was, that I'd be back soon & not to worry. That not only would Magnet be with me but so would you & that you were leaving to tag along with me too. That you'd be there to protect me as well."

Robert felt a slight quickening of his pulse despite the innocence of it all. The innocence of her explanation. Of the situation. Yet the cloak & dagger feel of it all gave him a little heart flutter & frisson at once. He didn't quite know why. He couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Why was he so unnerved?...

It was his idea, after all...

They weren't doing anything wrong anyway...

It was then that Magnet got onto the road & pulled off. Now Robert knew... There was no turning back...

Though turn back he did...

Robert couldn't help it...

And so it was that as he craved his neck to glance back at the traffic behind him, Robert swore he saw a hint of a familiar tall, willowy, smoking, silver accented, black-haired figure hustling into the back seat of a car that roared to life & took off a few car's length behind them.

Only one word came to mind to describe the situation Robert found himself shoe-horning himself into now & his current state of mind.

"Shit..."

~

Hope you guys enjoy~!

As ever this is forever under construction~!

[letmewanderinyourgarden2022]

NEW CHAPTER

As I stepped inside, the warmth of the Inn swept over me. The ever-present aroma of birch wood lingered in the air. Muffled conversations drifted from the bar punctuated with occasional spikes of laughter and the rattle of glassware.  

I closed my eyes for just a second, taking it all in, before pushing myself forward into the reception area.  Kirk rounded the corner as I passed the desk.

“Evening, Jane.  Hope all is well.”

“Good evening, Kirk.  Yeah, it’s been a wonderful day.”

“Will you be needing anything?”

“Well, now that you asked,” I grinned.  “Would it be possible to get some whiskey and maybe a bunch of candles?”  A plan for the remainder of the evening was formulated.

“There should be some boxes of votives in the cabinet in your room.  I’ll just pop in the bar for the other.  I might be able to find a decanter for you,” he laughed with a wink.  “Preference as to label?”

“I trust your judgment.  Gonna step outside for a smoke, so no rush.  I’ll pick it up in a bit.  Thanks so much, Kirk.”

I walked down the hall to the alcove of the garden doorway.  Running my fingers over the lead of the panes, I was unable to hold back a smile.

Things are quite different since the last time I stood here.

I opened the door and stepped onto the porch under its ivy-covered arbor.  Not a soul in sight - I was alone.  After lighting the cigarette, I retraced the stone walkway leading to the back of the yard.  Pausing momentarily, I saw him, in my mind’s eye, sauntering towards me at that very spot earlier in the day.

I will never, never, ever forget that.   

Sinking onto the bench, I pulled the shawl tight around me and stretched back against the table’s edge, eyes upward, marveling at the brilliant starry night.

A perfect ending to a perfect day. . .

The calm beauty of the night sky matched the inner peacefulness that had grown over the hours I had spent with him.

So much to savor from today. . .and so much that I hadn’t bargained for. . .I’ve gotta process all of this.

I sighed as I snubbed out a second cigarette and made my way back inside.  Kirk was doing double duty at the bar and the reception desk. A tray was ready for me with the decanter, glasses, and a small ice bucket.

“This is great, Kirk.  Don’t need the ice and only one glass, but thanks,” I said sliding both items back onto the bar.   “Uhh. . .what time is breakfast served?”

“We start at seven.  The dining room is just on the other side of reception.  There’s a menu in your room and we’re happy to bring breakfast up if you want.  If you need anything at all, just ring down to the desk.  Have a good night, Jane.”

“I absolutely will,” I said as I raised the decanter in salute to him. “Night.”

As I climbed the staircase, a slight queasiness came over me insisting food now would probably be a good idea, but I wasn’t at all hungry.

Ha. . .wine and whiskey on an empty stomach, both on the same day. . .This can’t become a trend, Jane.

As soon as I entered the room, I set about the plan, disrobing as I went.  The votives were just as Kirk said.  I planted them around the bedroom, the bathroom, and on the wide ledge running along the wall side of the claw and ball foot tub. A basket of biscuits and other treats had been deposited on the desk at some time in my absence.  Finding a shortbread, I munched as I turned on the taps and sprinkled the Inn’s fragrant bath salts into the already steaming water.

Hopefully, that fixes the stomach issue. . . .

The candles were lit with the matches Kirk had thoughtfully slipped on the tray.  The illumination from the room spilled into the bedroom beyond.  As I hung my blouse in the wardrobe, the candlelight sparked off the metal clasp of the elastic band still around my wrist. Snapping it against my wrist caused a shiver of remembrance.

Mmmm. . .the thought of him!  Leaves me fucking breathless. . .and another precious item to keep.

I slipped it off my wrist, storing it in the pen box with the other memento.  After pouring myself a healthy shot, I twisted my hair up into a clip and slid into the hot, fragrant water.

Ahhhh. . . what an unbelievable day. . .

As I sipped on the whiskey, the warming effects of the liquor seeping through my body, combined with the heat of the water, lulled me into a delicious stasis.  I felt weightless.

Hmmm. . .almost as good as a joint. . .

Sliding further into the comfort of the water, I tried to recall every second of the day's events – attempting to make sense of it all. The impression of the first contact flooded back - when he grasped my hand with that very subtle caress.

He truly is the most sensuous man I have ever met.

I cataloged back through my prior relationships – from the very first encounters to the most recent one.

Yes. . .he is.  That should have been my first clue. . .mmmmm

It was amazing how quickly he put me at ease in the garden. His descriptions of the experiences he was willing to share, the breadth of his knowledge, and his subtle innuendos took our conversations on tangents I didn’t expect.

I just really like him. . .being with him. . .so easy to talk to. . .mmmm. . .and more to come tomorrow. . .so not like I thought it would be. . .

As the aroma of sandalwood floated up from the water, my mind focused on the more sensual parts of the day – the soft, beguiling tone of his voice, his hand in mine, his touch on my wrist. . .on my thigh. . .the strands of his hair gliding across my fingers – all of it overwhelmed me. 

What will it be like. . . would be like if. . .

Under the water, my fingertips glided slowly, in swirling patterns on my skin, as I imagined they were his. In my weightless state, I could almost see him, feel him, there with me. I reveled in the heightened awareness for a few moments before abruptly stopping myself.

Nope. . .not gonna do that.  No fantasy it before it happens. . .if it happens. . .at least not tonight.

I grabbed the glass from the ledge and took a long sip, before returning it to the shelf and sinking even further into the water.

I think it’s gonna happen. . .

As I tried to turn my thoughts away from that possibility, the prickly rush from earlier in the evening flared into my thoughts – that disorienting feeling. A whisper in the very back of my mind, barely detected, seemed to chant it was a truth - that it was not strange my hand lightly grasping the curve of his waist seemed as if I had done it hundreds of times before and. . .a familiar warmth under my hand. The flare turned into a whirlwind of some emotion I couldn’t grasp.

How is that even possible??. . .that. . . that. . .I’ve felt that before. . . the intimacy. . .my hand holding him like that.  What the fuck!

I could make no sense of the burning now felt deeply to my very core.  The walk back along the river felt comfortable and right somehow - yes - but that kind of connection – the recognition – not possible.  The remembered confusion from that moment on the Thames path turned into the same serenity that came over me after the dream that triggered this whole adventure.

 I just don’t get it.  It’s good. . .I think. . .but at the same time, don’t overthink, Jane. . . .

It was time to check in with my ‘means of divination.’ I rose from the bath and hastily threw on a terrycloth robe from the wardrobe.  The candles from the bathroom were transported to add to the light in the bedroom.  Jimmy’s note was placed in the center of the bed with my shawl from the day spread over it.  I eased the cards from the velvet bag onto the scarf.  After focusing on the deck enclosed in my hands, I slowly laid out the spread.  The order of the cards caused me to take a quick, deep breath.

No fucking way!

The Empress, the Tower, the Lovers, the Fool – all were set in very, very, interesting but perplexing positions. 

I have no freakin’ idea what this means exactly. I have never met him before now. . .I must be misunderstanding. . .but that feeling from earlier. . .familiar but unfamiliar. . .what is that?

I fell back into the pillows trying to reason through what the cards communicated.  The effects of the bath, the whiskey, and jet lag all converged at once.  Sleep insisted I succumb to it. I returned the cards to the bag and blew out the candles, placing the scarf and the note on the bedside table.

As I snuggled into the bedcovers, the windows rattled ever so slightly with a change in the calm of the night.  Outside the window, a faint whistling of the wind blended with the angrily rustling leaves to serenade me.  The sound of the wind always comforted me and it helped to settle the percolating questions popping up in my head.  As I drifted off to sleep, the words from my letter to him ran through my thoughts.

“Hmm. . .yes,” I sighed.

Che sera, sera, Jimmy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy was pleasantly consumed with thoughts of Jane on his walk up the High Street to Deanery Gardens. He entered the code into a pad fixed to the brick arch of the doorway and entered the quiet security of his home.  He closed the door behind him, rambling, preoccupied, down the entrance hall through the moonlit courtyard and eventually to the kitchen.  After pouring a glass of wine, he traveled on through the great hall and into the garden, finding his favorite spot on the terrace.  His destination was a simple, wooden garden chair placed so he could survey the lawns, flowers, shrubs, and trees perfectly located throughout the very large walled garden. As he sipped, the faint scent of lavender could be detected in the breeze that was rising.  It triggered a distant memory – a planned adventure – forgotten over the years.

How strange that comes to me now.

He considered the details he could recall of the resurrected plan as he waited.  It was the perfect time of evening and of year for a phenomenon to appear in his garden.  He was not disappointed.  As he leaned forward in the chair, faint points of light twinkled intermittently in the far corners of the view before him.  Rising from the chair, he stepped to the edge of the terrace stairway as the glimmering points in the corners melded across the border of the distant garden wall. The wind had changed, picking up a force that whipped his still unbound hair around his face. Through the trees swaying in the gusts, the lights, now merged into pulsing blossoms of amber-green, seemingly levitated in air.  He smiled at the sight of them and in the periphery, of the dark-bottomed clouds speeding past the waxing moon. He took a slow, deep sip from the glass noting the omens of the night before turning to reenter the silent manse with a determined smile and gait.   

He walked directly to the study, which was cast in a yellow glow emanating from the flames in the brick fireplace that faintly illuminated the high-ceilinged room.  He paused at one of the bookcases lining the walls taking from it an ornately carved and inlaid wooden box.  Settling on the sofa before the fire, he focused on the box placed in the center of the low table in front of him.

Something to be discovered, I think. . .why has she sparked such. . .consternation. . .

He pulled the object toward him and carefully pushed the buttons arranged on its sides in the required sequence.  Once opened, it revealed old friends waiting until they were needed.  He took the deck from the box and considered what he hoped to discover.  Slowly and deliberately, he arranged the cards in the pattern, pausing after each placement to understand its effect on the rest. When he was done, he leaned back to consider all that was before him. 

Well, well. . .much to explore. . .and. . .maybe it is the time

He carefully returned the cards to the box and the box to the bookcase.  Grabbing his empty glass, he found the bottle left on the kitchen table, swirled its ruby liquid into the glass, and gravitated to the windows of the great hall that rose from the floor to the high-timbered ceilings. He looked out over the garden once more.  The wind had died down considerably and the green blossoms of light had started to fade.  He slowly sipped the wine and accepted several realizations that had been cemented by the events of the day.  He couldn’t repress the smile rising from the multitude of emotions he felt.

Che sera, sera, Lady Jane.

Title Image - Beauty and the Birds at Night by Duy Huynh

Deanery Gardens (all pre-Jimmy ☹)

The Courtyard

The edge of the Terrace walkway

Portion of the Garden

Puzzle box example

CHAPTER LIST - https://www.tumblr.com/letmewanderinyourgarden2022/701210499738714112/chapter-list-let-me-wander-in-your-garden?source=share

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Thirty-Three

Thank you to everyone who has been following my silly little story for the last few years (or however long I have been at this). We are coming toward the end! There are maybe 25ish more chapters left. I started writing this story after my first bad breakup in high school, and it's just snowballed from there. These characters have been my comfort through college, marriage, and so much more. I really love this story. I am a creative writing major, so I hope the quality has gone up. As long as people are sharing/reading, I will keep writing. I appreciate every comment, like, note, etc, so much. Knowing that people are actually reading makes me so happy! Thank you all for caring about Gwen so much. I do plan on writing a sequel (entitled Aquarius Season) and maybe a third part (Pisces Season). Thank you all! < 3 Also -- please comment to be added to the tag list.

Word Count: 4k Table of Contents

Sex had never meant anything to me. My conquests of the past were fleeting, almost primal in their necessity. I was filled with hunger. I never had good sex, it was bumbling and quick and over when he said it was. 

Sex with women was better, but I didn't do too much exploring past a college girlfriend named Julie. She was terribly concerned with being exposed. My family already wanted nothing to do with me, so I didn't care as much, but her feelings were never quelled. No one wants an anxious lover. 

There was something different about him. He knew where to cast his eyes. His lips found all the light spots on my body--branded me. Sex wasn't just sex with him. It was sacred and sweet. We honored each other.

I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to these memories today. He looked so good. His jeans hugged his hips just right and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his forearm. I think he could tell I was lusting after him because he kept smirking at me. 

What an ass. 

Today had gone relatively smooth. Things were getting back to normal after the whole Tiffany incident. I was grateful for that, too, because it had brought Lorelei and me closer together. Normally I would chastise her endlessly until she caved and realized what she did was wrong. (That's what usually had to happen for people to realize they were wrong). But I felt bad for telling her out of selfishness and anger and she knew what she did was wrong already. This humanity within her was something I began to realize was sparse in this world, especially in this industry. 

On the road people did and said harsh things. An air of drama shrouded everyone. Each moment was drawn out but passed so quickly it could give you whiplash. I didn't know what was up or down, what was left or right, or what anyone truly thought.

I didn't know how Lorelei and the other girls had lasted so long in this scene. The way musicians passed them around like objects to be won and traded was disgusting to me. It was ruining the music for me. I was drained after just three months of it. 

-

I pressed Lorelei yesterday after soundcheck. She wasn't exactly jumping to talk to me. 

I couldn't catch her eyes. She was wrapped up in Robert and all that he was---a liar. I wondered what he had told her to convince her to stay.

Soundcheck went as well as always. The guys went through the motions and played the same songs as they had for the last few months. I was burnt out and sick of it all. The luster of the road and show business had become mundane. 

William was coming down hard. I spent an hour on the phone with him the day before fighting over deadlines. I tried to avoid the group but didn't want to explain the intricacies of their drama to him. He wouldn't have cared much. He was growing fed up with me during this period of growing pains. He thought I was partying or otherwise slacking. 

I wasn't, really. I was quite miserable. 

Jimmy and I didn't talk on the car ride.  I pushed my knees against the side of the car and stared out the window. He wore a sad, sorry look into the venue. 

He wore green corduroys and a sweater to protect himself from the drafty weather. My corduroys. He rarely wore his own clothes these days. I think he'd been gaining weight and mine were more comfortable. Or he was just a cross-dresser. 

His gaze hit the worn stage floor heavy and hard as he took his place behind the guitar stand. I felt bad but had to stand my ground. I couldn't crack first. I was still mad about what he said to me. 

It changed the way I looked at him. He was now someone who could and would deliberately hurt me. He wasn't above bending the truth. I didn't know if I could trust him the same. More walls went up. 

He was still moping. His face was sullen and empty as he plucked G-sharp. I watched his fingers glide down the neck with a finger-picking motion. It was something bluesy. I didn't recognize it.

He looked at me softly with pearlescent eyes. The way only he could do. He could cut right through me. He was coming toward me with even strides. 

"Can I talk to you?" He asked. 

He looked tired up close. There were light bags under his eyes. 

I nodded. 

He pulled me by the arm to a spot that was secluded as it could get here. The lights were dim. Only a little light shone through the windows in the left corner of the cement room. It  was always cold backstage.

We looked at each other, absorbing the odd sight of one another's faces. He was withdrawn from me. His glassy, sunken eyes appeared present but were distant in actuality. I tried to look beyond the pools of murky green. Soft shadow was thrown across the left side of his face from the slivers of sun that poured in. 

"I'm sorry," he finally spoke. His voice pierced the tension between us.  

My lips fell into a grimace.

"You hit a nerve." He continued. 

I was silent still. 

"I was an ass, alright." 

My brow furrowed. Not the right approach. 

"You were right." He spoke through a slight grit. 

I softened then. His words hit the right spot. 

"I was afraid to lose you, my love." 

He knew exactly what to say. He'd practiced this speech a hundred-and-one times. He probably couldn't even remember how many times he'd begged women to forgive him, whether it was a minor or major offense. He probably felt bad for Robert, knowing he'd have hefty hoops to jump through to get Lorelei to forget about what he'd done. 

I started to speak, still holding my heart behind a wall of safeguards, "Do you mean that?" 

"Yes, I really do. I promise you, my love, I am speaking truthfully from the heart." His hands were in mine now. "I thought Robert might try and take you from me." 

He brought my hands to his lips. He knew I was softening. 

"I missed you so much, Darling. I care for you. I don't want to hurt you, ever." He paused between each sentence to press a soft kiss on my cold skin. 

I couldn't deny it. I was beginning to forgive him. 

"But you did." 

He sighed quietly. I noticed a small splinter of annoyance--impatience. "I know. And I feel so awful about it, my love. Would you do me the honors of forgiving me, being seen with me?"

I looked down at our hands. His calloused fingers laced mine like lattice and ivy. It hurt much more to imagine taking my hand from his. 

"Okay," I began reluctantly,"I forgive you." 

He flashed a toothy grin. I knew then that he was going to eat me whole. 

Now, to fix it with Lorelei. 

--

I looked out at the dormant chaos. Just six hours ago Lorelei attacked another person and it was treated like stale bread. The presses had run cold and everyone moved on.

She stood behind Robert with her hands on his shoulders. Bonzo stood alone. Tiffany had seemingly vanished. I wondered what exactly happened. Had she left on her own volition? She didn't seem to be a girl who needed to be told when to go. 

The fight was pretty nasty. Lorelei was scrappy, which impressed me, honestly. I wasn't rooting for the savage take down, but she made quick work of Tiff. 

"Can I talk to you?" Lorelei asked in a hushed tone. 

I looked at Robert. She followed my eyes. He stood next to Jimmy, trying to fiddle with his guitar. A long, stray string popped up from his meddling. Jimmy pawed his hands away with a grimace. 

I had to tell her. 

She pulled me off to the same spot backstage. Her eyes dug into me with an anxious glint. The only witness was chips of gray paint that frayed from the wall that sat between us. 

I had felt the pain of knowing the man you loved was with someone else. I knew the deep throbbing that thudded in her chest. That pain was so bad it could kill you. 

She bit her bottom lip. Her hands went into her mess of curls. 

"I don't even know how this whole mess got started." She started. The rest of her thoughts lingered on her lips, crushed just below her teeth. Her voice echoed even at a whisper.

It had started with my omission. I was consumed by guilt. Carrying the knowledge of Robert's extra-extramarital affair was eating me alive. I was supposed to be Lorelei's friend. Who could you trust if not your best girlfriend? I  wondered if the price of truth was worth the chaos. 

I wondered if she would understand why I had been on edge around Tiffany, why I didn't want to hang out with them. I wondered if she could see the guilt boiling over. 

Her anger started with Robert, who would not keep it for long. We both knew if she brought it to him he would charm his way out of it, and he did. She could never suspend her anger for too long, and it eventually fell into the scantily clad lap of Tiffany.

This was an error of judgment (the first mistake of many). Tiffany had no loyalty or oath to Lorelei. She didn't even know of her, or Robert's wife, when she slept with him. She was just a girl having a good time. 

Lorelei carried envy for Tiffany. She wished to be as carefree and unburdened as her. She was once, a few times, in her shoes. She had fallen foolishly into the shallow end before but always ended up hurt.

I thought of how this all must be playing in her head. The images of Tiffany and Robert writhing and panting swirling around the drain but never swallowed by the pipes. 

"Lor, I told you out of anger, not concern."

"What do you mean?" 

"Jimmy and I had a huge fight. He said he thinks Robert is in love with me. Then he basically called me whore. He was talking crazy and I was burning with anger. I was angry at all of them. We were all keeping a terrible secret. I couldn't take it anymore. It just burst from me." 

She looked more hurt than when I told her about the cheating. 

"So you told me to get back at him?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that. I-"

"You hurt me worse than Robert. You were supposed to be my friend, and you knew this whole time!"

"I'm so, so sorry. I know I'm a shit person and an even worse friend. But you should really be mad at Robert, not me. He's the asshole here." 

It sounded more like a jab the way it came out. 

"Oh, well, if you're sorry that makes it better!" Lorelei turned away from me. She couldn't look at me anymore.

"No, no, I'm sorry. Fuck. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that he put me in a tough spot. I didn't know what to do so I kept quiet to keep the peace."

"Just- just don't." 

"Lor, please-" 

She whipped around, her mass of hair and skirt flowing in the sharp wind. Her nostrils flared. 

"No, you know what, I'm not shocked that Robert hurt me. He's a muscian, he's the lead singer, for God's sake! But you're supposed to be my best friend. You chose some stupid guy or some stupid anger over me. You hurt me, and that's shitty." She ended with a shake of her head and began to walk away again. 

"Please, wait!" 

Her blazing, heeled steps trailed to the backdoor. She was gone in a moment. The slamming of the door could be heard out on stage. 

My head fell against the wall. 

--

As soon as she stormed off, Jimmy rounded the corner toward me. He had been lurking. I wondered how much he heard. 

"Love, are you alright?" 

His hands found my arms, rubbing them with his stark warmth. 

I melted into him with a sniffle. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go back to the stage." 

-

I found myself slipping into serene domesticity with him in the oddest of places. We made homes in shoddy hotel rooms, cooking meals in their tiny kitchenettes and washing each other in the cracker-box bathrooms. Even the icebox that was any backstage room. 

On planes, we would put our trays up and share snacks while we read. He would lay his head on my shoulder and I would play in his hair as the plane took off to settle his anxieties. 

He was a reserved and undemonstrative man but I could read him like a book. His nerves were a shaken jar of hornets. When Peter sent a calloused glance my way, a plane took off, our hotel reservations didn't land, or a show was moved, he was sent into a tailspin. I saw that his fit at Royal Albert wasn't out of the ordinary for him. There have been multiple occasions that I've had to hold him while he shook and sobbed uncontrollably. 

In this way, we were building homes out of each other's arms. He would look at me with panic and know I was there no matter what. I would hold him until he was silenced and sleepy, not leaving his side, even if it lasted hours. And similarly, I knew he was there if I needed him. Some days it was hard to get out of bed or deal with everyone around. Often it seemed sensory perception was physically revolting to me. I would furrow my brow and cover my ears to block out the penetrating sights and sounds. 

There were so many sounds. I couldn't escape it. There was no reprieve. Our hotel room was sandwiched between Bonzo and Robert, who were noisy at all hours of the day. I found that my frustration was exacerbated when deadlines became harsher. Multitasking wore me out more than a day of adventuring.

Jimmy tried his best to help me but he struggled with the same feeling. There were days we couldn't stand each other simply for the sounds of footsteps. It was not about personal feelings, just exertion. We always apologized at the end of the day and kissed, held each other close, and embraced as if it were the first time.

When we weren't fighting we spent our days talking about whatever interested us. We shared details about our charts, what we had learned recently, and what books we were managing to read (it was one of the only things to do on our down time (well, other than sex, of course)). 

He was often submerged himself in research. If he wasn't on stage it was not far-fetched to see him with a book in bed. 

He turned to me now, on the desolate stage, and said,"I've been reading about something called Thelema. Have you heard of it?" 

"No." I answered. He knew I hadn't. His asking was just a formality. 

"It's fascinating, really, I think you would be very interested. It's all about discovering one's True Will, which is essentially your path in life.

I feel that my True Will is music, which I was lucky to discover early in life. It can be very hard to find one's True Will and often requires the deconditioning of socially learned inhibitions.

But I find it fascinating. Magick is versatile. Finding your True Will is made up of all kinds of tiny little actions and decisions. You have to really learn everything there is to know about yourself in order to find it." 

"That does sound fascinating," I poked at his repeated use of the word, "do you think you found your True Will so early because your soul has made many trips to earth? I mean, it would make sense, as you went right to music and haven't really strayed from that path." 

"I suppose. I do have an old soul." He chuckled. 

Anytime I used this flowery language he knew I was making fun of him. 

"I think so too."

"With my penchant for antiquing and love of art, it would make perfect sense." 

I nodded along. 

"What do you think my True Will is?" 

"Well, I don't know. That's a hard question. Most people don't even know their own and I wouldn't want to lead you astray." 

"If you had to guess, what would it be?" 

"I think it could be the pursuit of love and understanding. You are such an open and loving person. Strangers could feel at home in your smile." He pushed his face into my neck. His hot lips brushed my skin. 

I gave a pleasured exhale and pouted my lips. He was so sweet it rotted my teeth.

-

She didn't come back for two hours. She didn't come back until an audible buzz surrounded the building. We had deemed this the "Pre-show hum". A medley of feet to floor, jitters, and voices. Fans were entering the building excitedly.

Jimmy and I had been chatting in the green-room, which had begun to swelter (once everyone got moving and the fans worked overtime to cut through all the bodies it got slick and sweaty fast), but Peter had pulled the group off somewhere. 

I was stuck talking with Richard. He was feeling talkative today. He yammered on about some girl he saw in a pub, then the drive to the hotel, then how he was excited to be in Nashville. I only paid half attention. 

In the midst of his conversational zeal my eyes passed over Lorelei. She caught my gaze but quickly turned away.

Peter's booming voice interrupted our angst. 

"Line up, boys!" He called down the hall. 

The boys lined up for battle. Bonzo strapped a bandanna to his head and stuffed a pair of drumsticks in his back pocket. Jones quietly smoothed his hair down. Jimmy fiddled with his hands, trying to coax them from fists. Robert spoke charmingly with Peter.

The venue lights dimmed. The crowd began to cheer. It sounded like a military barrage. The announcer took his sweet time introducing the band. He warmed up the crowd with a few jokes, but they were impatient. Lorelei went to the side-stage---ready and waiting for Robert. 

"Everyone, give it up for Leeeeed Zeppelin!" The planes finally took off. A wall of sound was heard all the way to the street. I had never heard such fervent, virile noise.

"Let's go, boys!" Peter shouted with a smirk. He practically slapped them on the ass. They marched out to chanting and stomping.

They took their places—Robert at the front, Bonzo at the back, with Jonesy and Jimmy flanked at each side. 

Robert took the microphone from the stand, speaking smooth like butter. "Good evening Fort Worth!" Cacophony. Pandemonium. Insanity. 

The driving march of Immigrant song struck the crowd. Robert's call came out in rough, uneven strides. 

This was going to be the best show of the whole tour. 

-

It began with a gentle strum. Jimmy picked sweet chords with care and ease. The organ crept in like a bright, beautiful sun breaking the horizon line. The smattering of the drums thundered, leveling the melody out. They played together with intensity for only a short moment, an appetizer, before dying down to welcome Robert. His voice was rusty by this point in the night, but it sounded beautiful against the tender canyon of Thank You. The organ took center stage once more, almost outshining Robert. Drums once more. This time Jimmy didn't join in. This song marked the end of the set (not including the encore), and felt like a welcome sunrise.  

Lorelei didn't look at me until the end. The intro had come back in full swing now, this time with a flourishing electric solo. There were tears in her eyes. Only a trace of contempt was left. I didn't know if that was for me or Robert. I hoped for Robert, for both of our sake.

Jimmy and Bonzo played together to create some kind of electricity. We could all feel it in the air. The building was on fire. Robert danced around the stage, just for a moment, before finishing out his part. He cried out, gripping the microphone tightly. 

"Happiness, I'm glad." He sang. 

Then the chorus came back. It was tender again. Robert bumbled around the stage, jazz-scatting, while Jonesy carried the tune off with his expertise on the keys. 

Robert ended with one last emboldened yelp. 

Applause. 

-

I met Lorelei again in the bathroom. The band was going for their first encore song. It was something like Train Kept A-Rollin. 

She was smoking a joint. She sat on the counter with her feet in the sink. She wore wooden wedges and thick bellbottoms. It would've been too hot if she weren't wearing that purple tube top. 

I wasn't surprised to see her when I opened the door. When she sauntered off stage, wiping her eyes, I figured I would find her here. I just brushed past her and went to the stall. I could hear the rolling paper burn with her sharp inhale. The smell was thick in the dead air. 

I looked down at my feet as I peed. My toes were painted dark red. Chipped, of course. She did them two weeks ago. The paint survived through two beach trips and sweaty airport sneakers. 

Face-to-face again, she was sweeter. She rolled her eyes when I froze. 

"We're cool." She said with a wave of her joint. 

I laughed with a huff. 

She held the joint out toward me. The opening riff of Whole Lotta Love began. 

"Good," I took the joint from her and leaned my back against the counter, "I missed you." 

"I did too." 

We sat quietly, listening Robert's manic panting and moaning. He was like a cat in heat. We started to laugh. 

They launched into We're Gonna Groove, one of my favorites. I tapped my foot along with the tempo. Jimmy was laying down some great work tonight. 

"I'm going to stay with him." She broke the silence. 

"You are?" I turned to face her.  "Yeah."  I held my tongue. If I said anything negative that would only drive her further into his arms. 

"If that's what you want I support you." She looked grateful. She grinned and nodded her head, wearing that award-winning actress smile. 

"Thank you."

----

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady​ , @jonesyjonesyjonesy​   @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin​ , @jimmysdragonsuit13 , @sinceivebeenlovingyoou , @akyras-azriel , @lzep , @litvrgi , @laluxea

[paginate54]

CHAPTER ELEVEN - Let Me Wander. . .

Next Chapter is coming very soon. Here's the 'dinner' playlist - it's a long, leisurely dinner 😁 Some of these tunes have a place later on in the story.

Hope you enjoy if you listen.

@firethatgrewsolow @foreverandadaydarling @laluxea @lzep @sassybouquetrunaway-universe @jimmysdragonsuit13@jenyj89@jonesyjonesyjonesy@ritacaroline@tiny-sorceress-madz

[As always, let me know if you want to be tagged ☺]

[thebeatles]

this is insane talk but do you have any info if there was beatles fanfic in the 60-70’s

i know there was one lingering around from the 90’s

There is no documented info of Beatles fanfiction existing.

Fanfiction didn't exist until Spock/Kirk, perhaps the first slash pairing in history. You can read about that here. Fanfiction surrounding bands didn't exist. No one among fans [likely] ever thought about writing fictional pieces with real people. If there was, I think it's more like someone writing about their crushes in their diaries or among friends.

It wasn't until the late 70s that people began writing zines for Led Zeppelin. Because it involved real people, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant had pseudonyms like "Trish" and "Alex". Information of that is here.

BUT I found a fanfiction of the Beatles from the 80s. It's called "With Strings Attached" and it's about the Beatles waking up on a strange place, C'hou, and are being attacked by two groups of aliens called the Ketafa and Baravada. It's been archived on the internet since 1997. You can read that here. It's not a slash fanfiction.

[yaggerdangs-remedy]

I've been reading this cute cottage romp of a fic called "Farm Frolics", about Robert Plant and Jimmy Page enjoying life on their plot of land with their goats Wallet and Percy, and a strange aloof kitty named Mr M. There's also a ghost and weird occult happenings and it's just such a comfort fic for me, I'll be so sad when it ends!!

Idk if the authors are here on Tumblr but shout out to AO3 writers LuxeApocalypse and bron_yr_aur for this wonderful gem of a story!! 💙

[psychedeliagroove]

Guitar Lessons With Jimmy Page Part 3

It’s been a fat minute… But if you’re reading this after part 1 and 2, thank you. And if you’re new here please go and read part 1 and 2 and then come back here and (hopefully) enjoy part 3.

I love writing these, and I hope you love reading it as much as I loved creating it.

“Shit” I murmured to myself after I messed up my eyeliner for what felt like the hundredth time.

I never was one to spend too much time on my appearance even when my mother used to constantly badger me about how “a lady should always look put together”. I never did find myself listening to her advice, until now.

Finally my hand decided to stay steady as I drew the last wing, completing my eye makeup.

As I reached over to grab the Yardley lip stick sitting patiently on my vanity table I remembered the half-kiss I shared with Jimmy the other day.

The sweet, innocent, and sadly interrupted kiss.

The more I thought about it the more I wondered how far that seemingly innocent almost-kiss would have gone if not for Robert barging through the door and yelling at the top of his lungs.

I let out a giggle as I remembered the almost comical scene from last week.

I was pulled out from my thoughts in a second as my eyes made their way to the clock hanging on my wall. I gasped and hurriedly applied the coral pink lipstick that was in my hand.

Realising I had around 25 minutes to call a taxi and make my way to the gig, I leaped across my bed for the telephone which sat on my bedside table.

A telephone girl with a shrill voice answered the phone. “Hello, where from and where to will you be travelling this evening?” She said in a professional manner.

“From 87 Dover’s Green road to uh…” I grabbed the piece of paper that sat next to the telephone and squinted at the address that I had written down on to it during a phone call I received from Robert the other day.

“…To Ewell college, please!” I replied after making out the words from my messily rushed handwriting.

“Alright dear, your taxi will be arriving shortly, thank you for calling!”

And with that I could hear the click on the other end of the line that signalled the telephone girl had hung up.

I tapped my foot on the soft rug beneath me, already impatient.

“What did she mean by shortly? How shortly is shortly?” I wondered to myself, scared I might miss even a second of the gig.

However I was not let down by the taxi service when I saw the vehicle pull up to the sidewalk outside my window within the span of 7 minutes from the time of the initial phone call.

I grabbed my bag and struggled into my boots before racing out the door, on to the street, and into the taxi.

I stared out the window as the car passed Woodhatch park, then the local diner and then we were on the motorway. I felt my nerves grow the closer the taxi got to Ewell college.

Then they almost went out of control when the taxi driver turned to me and told me in his tired voice “this is your stop ma’am”.

I thanked and payed the man then I hopped out the car.

My heels clicked against the cold hard pavement that lead to the entrance of the college.

With the entrance of the college in view I only realised just how many people were entering, initially I thought that a good chunk of them could just be students but when I heard murmurs of the two names that were familiar to me I realised just how popular Jimmy and Roberts little band was.

With the crowd of college students and teenagers just like me, I made my way into the college, letting the bustling crowd that shifted around me guide me to the location of the gig.

Once inside I was met with a cramped looking stage that had a drum kit and a microphone stand set up atop its hard wooden flooring.

As I looked at the ever growing number of girls and boys in the auditorium, I realised just how many people came to watch the band, far more than I had anticipated.

At this point I couldn’t move an inch within the large crowd, but with strong determination and countless shoulder-shoves followed by apologies, I made my way to the front of the crowd with an up-close view of the small stage in front of me.

To pass the short amount of time before the band came on, some groups in the audience conversed with each other. Another small chunk of the audience gathered around in a corner.

At first I wondered why this group of long haired gals and guys were all huddled around.

That was until I saw the light from a small orange flame protruding from a lighter.

From there it don’t leave much to the imagination.

I leaned against the front of the stage, resting my arms atop the wooden flooring. It didn’t take long for a man that seemed to be the MC to walk onto the stage.

“Good evening everybody!” The man enthusiastically boomed out, his voice filling the rowdy and crowded room.

“It is my great honour to announce tonight’s performance, here in Ewell College, will you all please welcome to the stage, The New Yardbirds!”

Instead of the anticipated applause the crowd mostly went quiet, I looked around the crowd to see what the big deal was and heard murmurs of confusion around me.

“New yardbirds?” A man with a questioning look on his face behind me whispered to his friend to which returned the same confused expression.

“Hang on…. Err, my apologies.” The MC said apologetically as his eyes averted from the audience and to the queue card in his hand.

“Will you please welcome, Led Zeppelin” The man said which, this time round was met with the applause he was looking for.

After the crowds reaction the MC seemed satisfied and with that he walked off stage, and in his replacement three tall, long haired, and rather fashionable men made their way onto the stage.

The three were met with an applause that displayed the crowds excitement.

I spotted Robert instantly just by his golden lion-like mane of hair that tussled around with every movement he made.

Then my eyes met with a man adorning brunette hair that was fairly long but not as long as Roberts’s.

And lastly a man with hair of similar length except a lighter shade walked across the stage.

I looked around the stage for Jimmy, but to no avail.

I stared at the right side of the stage where the three members had walked out of in hopes Jimmy would come out.

And to my delight he did, protruding from the darkness came a tall pencil thin figure adorning a slightly oversized cream button up of crepe fabric and a lengthy satin scarf tied around his neck.

Once the crowd noticed his arrival, they welcomed him on just like they had done for the other three, in a loud and exciting manner.

Among the noises the crowd made for Jimmy, I could hear his name being cheered from all around the audience. I didn’t realise just how big of a name he’d made for himself in the area, he was treated just like any rockstar at a concert.

Sure David had went on and on about his talent, but witnessing the crowds reaction makes him seem more like a celebrity than a local talent.

I watched him as he made adjustments to the strap of his telecaster.

The bright stage lights illuminated his jet black curls and his ivory skin which made it seem almost iridescent.

He looked godly. There was no other description for it.

By now the other members had made their way to their respective spots on stage.

The dark brunette haired man was on the drums, which I thought was quite fitting as he seemed to be the tough type, the light brunette haired man stood on the left side of the stage tuning his bass, and lastly Robert, front and centre, wrapped his hand around the metal microphone stand making adjustments to it to cater to his towering height.

That was as figured. A man as exuberant as Robert just had to be the frontman I thought.

And especially with that loud booming voice I became acquainted with when I had first met him.

The crowd and I waited in anticipation for the four to begin their set, I didn’t know what to expect as a first timer but I knew they had to be good since they had the locally famous guitarist, Jimmy in the band.

Suddenly an explosion erupted from the speakers, except it wasn’t an explosion of noise but an explosion of strategically composed and intricate sounds that were nothing short of electrifying.

The sounds that came from the speakers were from Jimmy and the bassist. Both sounds from their instruments intertwined into one which lead to the crowds eruption of cheers and screams.

Suddenly Roberts vocals came in, just as powerful and loud as the instruments.

Then before I got a chance to breathe it all in, the drums boomed throughout the auditorium. I could feel the vibrations within my own body and I’m sure everyone in the audience could as well.

The four managed to be just as powerful as each other, not anymore and not any less. It was an insane sight to witness.

The set carried on, impressing me song after song and never failing to keep every single individual in the crowd screaming and moving around.

I couldn’t help myself but stare at Jimmy through most of the songs, his face, focused and expressive with every note and chord and yet just as I had imagined it was peaceful. Despite the songs being heavy and upbeat, he had that peaceful expression across his face that I noticed during my previous guitar lesson with him.

I smiled as I reminisced on this.

Then my smile was returned.

While in my thoughts, Jimmy had noticed me in the crowd, gazing at him with wide eyes and with a smile strewn across my face.

Upon realising this my expression turned into a look of surprise to which jimmy chuckle at. With that, his face averted from me and back down to his guitar.

I stood their giggling at myself taking into consideration that I probably looked like an idiot in the eyes of Jimmy.

Unfortunately for both the audience and myself the show seemed to be coming to a close. and once Robert thanked the crowd and went on to bid them all farewell, it was official.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to meet up with Jimmy and Robert for the drinks I was promised, so for now I decided on hanging around the auditorium.

I watched most of the audience members walk out the exit of the room. Chatting about the events they just witnessed with wide smiles as they soon disappeared from my sight.

Like myself, other individuals seemed to be hanging around as-well. Perhaps to meet the band when they eventually come out or to collect themselves after the heavy concert.

I found a place to sit and waited patiently.

I stared at the wooden floor, still in shock, recounting the performance that I had just witnessed.

I had never experienced anything like it despite frequenting many rock and roll concerts.

I felt a subtle ringing in my ears but I didn’t care, it was definitely worth it.

Suddenly a shadow appeared on the spot of floor I was fixed on.

I looked up and there, in all his glory, was a smiley Jimmy, glistening with sweat.

“What did you think about that?” Jimmy said, a smile spread across his face.

I could not find the words to reply, to be honest I don’t even think there are words to describe what I had just witnessed.

I spontaneously stood up from my seat and leaped onto Jimmy, putting both my arms around his neck in a hug.

“Oh Jimmy! It was incredible” I replied finally.

The realisation that I had only ever met Jimmy once before this had set in and attacking him with a hug like I was an old friend probably wasn’t the best thing to do, so I decided to release him, until I felt his warm hands on my lower back, pulling me towards him, returning the hug.

“Im so glad you think so, Y/N” he whispered to me.

It felt like my legs were about to give out at any second after hearing his voice in my ear while he held me in his arms.

I had never grown such a liking to someone like this before. A single, seemingly innocent guitar lesson which lasted around an hour was to blame for everything.

We released each other from our holds which left me with an instant feeling of emptiness, I could see his lips part, about to speak, but instead he was interrupted.

“Get back here Jim! We’re leaving” Robert bellowed in a very Robert fashion.

The two of us turned to where the voice had come from and there, along with the bassist and drummer he stood near the stage.

Robert shifted his face from Jimmy to me.

“Ahh, Y/N, You came! You enjoy the show?”

I was about to respond but before I could Robert spoke again.

“Jimmy bring Y/N along, let’s go!”

Jimmy turned to me and smiled, it was a sort of what-can-ya-do? Smile, I grinned at him and we walked towards the group.

I found myself in a crowded van filled with equipment. Not only was the band and myself here, but what I assumed to be the girlfriends of the two members of the band as well, to which I finally learnt the names of, John Paul Jones - the bassist, and John Bonham - the drummer.

A few roadies who I presume were friends of the band as well also came along for the trip.

The van was filled with conversation and laughter from every individual as the vehicle driven by one of the roadies made its way to a pub the band frequented.

I had never had this much fun in a while, I loved taking peaks at Jimmy’s face every now and then, just to see his eyes wrinkle with laughter and hear his memorable laugh, I did not want this moment to end.

Wow this took a while to post… I’m so sorry for the delay if you happened to be waiting on part 3! Thank you so much for reading I appreciate it so much. I love you.

[n0quart3r]

for my people who like a bit of submissive jimmy, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read Babe I’m Gonna Top You on Ao3. you will not be disappointed

[untilthenextencore]

"Nights To Remember Ch. 5: You Belong To Me~..."

~

~

Jimmy & Dahlia made their exit from the Chuco sometime after that. The smallest thing triggered it. The funniest thing. A song by the Duprees. And a shared look after one last dance.

"See the pyramids along the Nile…

Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle…

Just remember, darling, all the while…

You belong to me…"

The look they shared was laden with understanding. A flicker of a shared shy, sheepish smile. A soft laugh at how fitting the song was then.

They both knew it was time. It was in their nerves. In their blood. A little flicker in their eyes.

Jimmy laced his fingers through hers, hand swallowing hers as he gazed down at her. "Shall we?"

Dahlia nodded simply. "Let's go."

Jimmy slipped out of his jacket, draping it around her shoulders before leading her back out into the now much cooler night. He nodded & smiled in greeting, tossing a few waves to some cheering fans before they were both tucked safely back into the quiet private depths of the backseat of the town car he arrived in.

"Darling, you really shouldn't have run off like that. You really did give me quite a fright. Though I'm glad you left word for me with Peter." He tutted, patting her hand.

"Of course, baby." She reached up to cup his face tenderly & thumbed the swell of his cheek. "Like you already said I didn't want to worry you. I got bored back there but saw you were still having fun. I knew Peter would get the word to you in where I had gone. If you didn't already know or guess. I just got homesick I guess. Missed things. Missed the place. The fun. You know. The old days I guess."

The old days.

Memories danced in Jimmy's mind. Of more dances here. More dances at the Chuco. Inside under the tinted light. Outside on the patio. Under the streetlight. Under the stars. Under the moon.

From the first time she took him there in his Yardbirds days to then. Through all lengths of his hair. Through all lengths of his beard. Both before & after his beard. Pinstriped trousers, jeans, velvet bellbottoms. Silk blouses, lace trim, simple cotton. No matter what he wore he was always welcome. She was always welcome. They were always welcome.

It wasn't hard to see why she loved it.

Why she missed it.

Why she escaped.

The other party was the complete opposite.

Though she stuck out in both like a sore thumb - albeit a stunningly beautiful one - it was clear, she fit this one like a glove.

"I'm sorry if I worried you at all, Jimmy. I thought maybe if I went along with Robert when he offered you'd have less to worry about."

Jimmy stifled a laugh. Stifled a grin. Barely. After all these years. Even after that night. She still had no idea. He was glad in a way. It meant Robert hadn't tried anything. It also meant that certainly Magnet hadn't either. It meant she was still safe. Still his. Still secure.

"Forgive me?"

And thus, so was he.

Cupping her face in his large hands, Jimmy cooed in a dragon's curl of smoke from the cigarette he had just finished. "There's nothing to forgive, my dear. Nothing. As long as you're safe."

Dahlia beamed at him, placing her hands over his cupping her cheeks, starry-eyed as ever. "I had a wonderful time tonight, darling. Hope you did too. Despite the slight fright I gave you."

His smile grew before his lips pressed to her forehead once more. "My dearest. My sweetest. My loveliest. My only. My girl. My lady. My Dahlia."

His heart swelled in his chest at what he saw flickering in her gaze. The light. The devotion. The purity. Purity of gaze. Of heart. Of love. Of feeling. Of emotion. Pure, raw emotion.

All of this led him to make one simple promise. "The night's not over yet, my girl. My lady. It is but still young for us."

"I bless the day I found you…

I wanna stay around you…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Jimmy's smile brightened at the sound of the Everlys crooning over the radio. "Remember this song, my darling?"

"Don't take this heaven from one…

If you must cling to someone…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Dahlia's smile quirked in the same way. Instantly, she read his mind. "Palomino, 1969."

They shared a private giggle. A favorite date of theirs. A favorite memory of theirs. Jimmy taking Dahlia to see the Everly Brothers at the Palomino in 1969. Holding hands. Holding her close. Sneaking squeezes of her hand. Sneaking little clinches. Sneaking kisses. As they did before.

"Each time we meet, love…

I find complete love…

Without your sweet love…

What would life be?..."

As they did then.

Jimmy leant in & nuzzled Dahlia. Nuzzled his wife. She nuzzled back. A low growl sounded in his throat. A purr in hers. A chuckle followed from him. A giggle from her.

The partition rose between them & the front seat. Jimmy's arms came around Dahlia's back, hands caressing the skin left bare by her low backed dress. Dahlia shivered & purred again, reclining back as Jimmy leant her back into the seat. Her arms circled his shoulders as their nuzzling intensified & once again their lips met.

She shivered as she felt his silver jeweled pendant cool against her hot skin.

"Gee whiz, look at his eyes…

Gee whiz, how they hypnotize…

He's got everything a girl could want…

Man, oh, man, what a prize…

Oh, oh…"

As the song played Dahlia gazed up at him in the flickering, intermittent light. The dragon's green fire seared her to the core. A private smile was shared. A tandem flicker. The air crackling between the two as it so often did. And suddenly two pairs of curved lips crashed into each other.

"Heaven up above knows how much…

I love that fella's soul…

Angels sing of a love like this…

I hope our love will grow and grow…"

Jimmy's lips burned a trail of heated kisses down her throat as his hand blazed a trail up her skirt. Her legs fell open instantly. As if on command. Under his spell as ever. Open sesame.

"'Cause, gee whiz, I love that guy…

Gee whiz, my, my, oh my…

There are things we could do…

I could say I love you…

But all I can say is…

Gee whiz…"

His lips trailed back up to claim & conquer hers yet again. Dominating her again. Mauling her again. Dahlia nipped his lower lip softly, earning a throaty growl. The growl of course came with more hungry, devouring kisses.

A sudden gasp left Dahlia's lips, thighs tightening around his hand slightly as Jimmy's fingers shifted her panties aside & his middle finger pressed inside.

"Dahlia… My lady…" He panted.

Dahlia let her legs fall open just that bit wider. Jimmy's finger pressed deeper, curving towards those familiar places he knew so well would elicit those deliriously sweet sounds.

"Ah!..."

And little bucks & lifts & rocks of her hips as she was so doing then. Each little buck allowed her skirt to slip higher and higher up her thigh. The slipping slip dress thusly only revealed more and more of her shifted panties & his working fingers.

The sight of the flickering light, intermittent from passing cars & streetlights, flashing on her exposed core stirred him to no end. The sight of her lips parted. Him parting her lips. His fingers parting them & pumping. Curving. Pressing deep. Making her mewl. It stirred him… To action.

"Oh, my angel…

Come back to me…

And I will love you…

Till eternity…

Oh, my angel…

This fire in my heart…

Consumes my happiness…

Since we are apart…"

Jimmy let Dahlia slip from his arms momentarily, only to bring both hands to his belt & undo it.

"Dahlia… Forgive me… I need..."

Dahlia merely allowed herself to sink down onto the sear & giggled. "There's nothing to forgive… As you said, my love…"

Jimmy hurriedly undid & unzipped his trousers, freeing himself & allowing his length to fall free. Dahlia giggled again & softly stroked his length in greeting. Jimmy jolted, grunting, groaning deeply. He stilled himself, allowing her a few more smooth strokes before acting again.

Taking her hand & once more pressing a kiss to the back before draping her arms around his shoulders. Coming close, he gave her panties a tug down her thighs before embracing her once more. And with that, Jimmy rose over her, drawing his hips back & piercing her in one go.

"Ah!" Cane the tandem response.

"You're mine…

And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

The music was the perfect soundtrack as they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Another giggle was shared between the two before Jimmy pressed deeply once more. Another thrust. Another gasp.

"You're mine…

Your lips belong to me…

Yes, they belong to only me…

For eternity…"

Jimmy rolled his hips into hers slowly. Smoothly. Deeply. He drew out moan after moan. Sigh after sigh. Stirring her from deep within.

Dahlia's back arched, allowing Jimmy to slide the spaghetti straps down her shoulders. There he was able to bunch the silken dress at her waist. There he was able to trail kisses down her neck as her head craned back.

His lips trailed a heated path down to her breasts, circling her nipples & sucking them into peaks as his tongue batted & teased them. The sight of her panties, filmy & now sodden, ringing around her ankle led him to remove them, pocketing them secretly. Then, Jimmy's smile widened as Dahlia's legs wrapped around his waist. Her heels grazed the upholstery on the door behind him, her ankles locked behind his back as he drove consistently into her as they were driven around.

"You're my, my baby…

And you'll always be…

I swear by everything I own…

You'll always, always be mine…"

Dahlia watched as his pendants glinted in the light. Dangling & spinning. Hypnotizing her. Each thrust pierced her to her very core. Stealing her breath away. Her hands slipped under his jacket, sliding along the smooth expanse of skin along his back. Her fingers curled. Nails scoring into his shoulders.

His hips stuttered & faltered only momentarily before snapping harder & ever so slightly faster into her.

"You're mine…" The song crooned.

"Jimmy..." Dahlia mewled, arching her back slightly. The way her eyes both glittered & hazed over caught his eye. He recognized that. Recognized the way her nails dragged from his shoulders down his back. He hissed & shuddered & snapped his hips yet again, thrusting deeper still.

Her legs tightened around him. Walls tightened around him. Arms tightened around him. "Ahhh… Jimmy… Jimmy…"

"Are you close, darling?" He asked with a kiss, even though he already knew.

As he expected, he saw her nod slowly, still with that hazed starry-eyed gaze.

Jimmy smiled, sliding one hand down to brace her hip. His thumb swirled gently on her clit as he began to hone his thrusts in a very pointed fashion. Dahlia gasped softly. The gasp was muffled against his lips as he claimed hers in yet another passionate kiss.

"Mmmm… Me too…" He admitted, with a cheeky grin, muffling his subsequent chuckles into her lips just as she had muffled her gasps.

Now their hips rocked in unison. Lifting & rolling into a sweet, smooth grinding meeting. The two of them colliding over & over.

"Jimmy…" Dahlia mewled.

"Mmm-hmm…" He purred, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand bracing her thigh, keeping it close to him.

"Jimmy… Jimmy…" She nipped his lower lip, causing him to growl. The sound vibrated through her body, making her shiver & clench around him.

She felt him drive into her clenching tightness in a few short quick thrusts, aiming for her spot just so & jolted. Another gasp fell from her lips as her back arched. She clutched into him & with the last of his thrusts as he grunted & groaned, he spilled & she shattered.

Galaxies collided as their bodies had, shattering & spreading stardust across her vision, the stars he had seen in her eyes sealed with a bated breath sigh of his name & kiss.

"Jimmy..."

The same stars she saw alight in his now as his lids fluttered open. Emerald depths twinkling in greeting as their gazes met.

"My lady…"

"Jimmy…"

Her fingers drew their last trails down his back. Another hiss fell from his lips as he stirred deep within her, filling her as he braced her body to his. Large right hand still bracing her thigh to his hip. His left arm still wrapped around her, keeping her stomach flush against his.

"I love you…"

He swore as his lips retook & staked their claim on hers at the same time. Deep, passionate, grateful, sated, yet all the more hungry kisses greeted her on the way down as they both recovered.

"I love you…"

She sighed her pledge in return.

Another purr sounded as despite the eternity their hurried climb & easy float down from their peak seemed to take, they both registered the last words of the song then on the radio. Fitting as ever. As always.

"And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

~

Hope y'all enjoy~!

As ever, this is forever under construction~!

[letmewanderinyourgarden2022]

[This is quite long. . .sorry. . .will try to make future chapters shorter]

“Okay, ready.”

He turned to find her leaning against the door jamb, much more like her earlier self. Something about the way she stood, the look on her face inflamed his already heightened sense of attachment to her.

“Shall we off, love?”

“Yes, Jimmy, let’s.”

He turned her in the doorway, his arm corralling her waist to speed her through the entranceway and to the street, hoping to avoid any additional adverse reactions.

“Okay?” He gazed down at her to confirm all was well when they reached the street.

“Yes, Mr. Page,” she shook her head in amusement.

As they trekked up Thames Street, she felt a slide of his hand and then the pressure of his fingers at the back of her neck. “Cheeky,” he hummed in her ear before resting his wrist on her shoulder, hand casually dangling as they walked.   He was relaxed but preoccupied.

Maybe I have met her before – in passing.

The effect of the photo that Perry handed him at Tower House so many months ago surged back and an echo of the pang that accompanied it.

 Perhaps she recalls such a thing and just hasn’t mentioned it. . .hmmm. . .This may be a good time to pose the question.

“So, I meant to ask before, Jane.  Did you ever see the band?”

“Yes, I have.  I’ve seen you play many more times, though.”

“Really? How so?”

This might solve that riddle. . .

“Well, my very first live rock concert was one my parents took me to along with a bunch of their friends at the Anderson for the Yardbirds.  I think it must have been. . .mmm. . .1968.  My parents were huge fans and we were visiting the City.  I think we went to New York for that very reason.”

“Ha!  Another surprising item about your family.”

“Yeah, I told you they are a story.”

“So, you liked the music, then?”

“I was hooked.  Of course, I’d heard the music around the house, but to see it  - hear it – live - was life-changing.  Really.  I’m not kidding.  I think that was partly why I took the courses I did in law school, you know, to be an entertainment lawyer.  And you!  I remember Keith Reif said something to the effect that you were a sorcerer with magic fingers.  I took him at his word.  White Summer was magical.”

“Thank you, love, but I’m not fishing for compliments.  Just curious.”

“Oh! I know that, Jimmy,” she said nudging against him playfully.  “And then when I read that you were forming Zep, my mission was to see the new band.”

“And did you see us early on?

“Baltimore in February 1969. . .but I have to admit, I was tripping my ass off, so what I remember is pretty fragmented and possibly imagined, you know.”

“Ha, ha! Understood but what do you remember?”

“About six or seven of us went to see Vanilla Fudge, but one of the guys and I were really excited to see Zep.  The first album had been playing on, I think it was WHFS, an underground FM station around DC that we could pick up at night if the weather was good,” she chuckled. “He and I were absolutely blown away.”

“The FM stations were perfect for our music.  They were the reason everything exploded for us that year. . . that and underground papers. . . and word of mouth, to be sure.”

“I had gone to quite a few concerts at the Civic Center by that time and made a good friend on the box office staff, so we were able to finagle the second row. I couldn’t sit still once you guys started so I moved to the edge of the stage – which they still let us do then – off to the side - your side and hung on for dear life. I believe that Robert said something to me when he flitted to that side of the stage. . .but who knows,” she snickered. “I remember parts of As Long As I Have You, Dazed, White Summer, and You Shook Me, but that’s pretty much it.  I distinctly recall you, though.  I thought your guitar was singing - just to me.  I mean, it was a voice, a persona, all to itself in my trippy hippie mind. By the time the Fudge came on, I was a puddle on the floor.  The only thing I remember from them is the organ vibrating whatever I was sitting on. So that’s my embarrassing story about the first time I saw the band.”

“I imagine we might have been a bit intense on acid,” he chuckled.

“Ha!  That’s an understatement!  And I saw part of the gig there in 1970 but I was leaving that evening for New York for an internship interview.  I managed to make it to Bonzo’s solo, but my ride insisted that we had to leave Baltimore that night, right then, so that was that. We had a big argument in the lobby, I mean, what the fuck difference would an hour or so make.  But anyway, I didn’t see you again until I was in Atlanta.  I caught The Firm and the Outrider tour.  And then you and Robert twice in the 90s.”

“That’s quite a lot more than I expected.   Did we ever meet at any of those gigs?  Were you backstage for any of them?”

“No, sadly we didn’t meet.  Even totally out of it, I would not have forgotten that.  Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, love, as I said.  Ah, here we are.”

They had arrived at the Great House at Sonning, a large inn with a green lawn sweeping down to the river’s edge.  As they entered the restaurant, Jimmy was greeted warmly.

“Afternoon, Jim, Miss.” The young man behind the desk nodded his greeting.  “Your table is ready.  You know the way, right? Someone will be with you in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Mark.  Yes, I know the way.  Jane?” He swept his arm in the direction of the French doors off to their right indicating the way for her.

They stepped out onto a patio with a paved walk leading down the lawn to the river.  At the end of the path was a line of cabanas, each enclosed with a gauzy fabric rippling in the slight breeze. They were all empty except the one closest to the walk, where a table waited, set for two, and graced with a vase of flowers and maidenhair ferns.

“To your liking, Jane?” He pulled out the chair for her.

“Such a gentleman,” she chuckled.  She lifted the vase to her to deeply inhale the perfume of the purple and white blossoms.  “Mmm. . .lilacs. . .very, very nice.”

“Did you know the Victorians used to send covert messages via flowers?”

“I’ve read of that, but I couldn’t give you any details. I must look up the meaning of lilacs. . . You know, you are a very surprising man.  When our meeting was arranged, I expected maybe a conversation for an hour at most.  But not all of this.  I planned to be poking around in Sonning’s shops by now, not lunching along the river with you.  I am definitely not complaining.”

His eyes caught hers for just a moment before an impish look rose on his face. “Uh, can I see your phone for a minute?”

She was puzzled.  “Yeah, sure,” she said, searching her bag for the phone and handing it to him with a sly smile.

He pressed a few buttons and stopped.  “It’s locked,” he said dryly with a glare that matched his tone.

“Yes, that’s my Blackberry for work and other private stuff.”  She leaned in resting her elbow chin in hand.  “Well, Mr. Page, why don’t you tell me what you might be looking for?”

Trying to hide a slight embarrassment, the telltale tic returned when his finger flicked his cheek as he answered.  “I. . .uh. . .assume you have playlists on your phone.  You can tell a lot about a person by the music they keep – in their collections. . .and now, on their phones.  So, I thought I’d check out what’s on yours – with your permission, of course.”

“Ha!  Okay.” She snicked as she grabbed the phone from his hand and pointedly dropped it back into her bag.  Searching again, she pulled out her other phone, pressed a few buttons, and held it out to him.  “Here you go, nosey,” she jested.

He took the phone and looked at the list displayed on the screen, dismayed.  “All very good, Jane but they are only numbered – no description. How am I-”

She couldn’t resist taking advantage of his fluster.  “Geez, just pick one, Jimmy!”

“Uh. . .number seven. Let’s see.  Ah, classical.  A fan of baroque, hmmm?” He glanced at her and then back to the screen.

“I am, but other stuff too.  Prokofiev. . .and Barber’s Adagio for Strings is one of my favorite things. The tension gives me goosebumps.”

His eyes shot to hers in surprise.  “There’s Penderecki!  Really!  I’m quite familiar with Threnody.  I made it a point for us to do the benefit in Hiroshima, because, in part, of that piece of music. It’s a bit amazing that you know it.”

“My parents, again.  They were taken with it – the power of it.  It scared me when I was a kid, but much later, once I understood what it was about, I found it so evocative, particularly in its abstraction.  I. . .uh. . .hear a bit of it echoing in Dazed. . .at least to me.  That’s probably way off base, but. . .”

He tilted his face as he regarded her.  “Hmmm. . .maybe,” he said, noncommittal. “Let’s see another.  Ah jazz, you like Miles, eh?  Mmmm. . . west coast music. . .number 3. . .ahh. . .blues.  Who do we have on this list, I wonder?  Robert Johnson, Taj Mahal and . . .lots. . .in between those two.  Quite a selection here, love. I’m impressed with how broad your taste is.”

“Thank you, sir.  It’s part of my job to be well-versed, you know. The stuff I like the best is there. Uhh. . .Can I have my phone back now? Please?”  She smiled sweetly at him with a flutter of her eyelashes, in put-on flirtation. “I mean if you’re done snooping,” she added snidely, holding out her hand expectantly. He snorted with laughter as he surrendered her phone.

Their lunch was served and they chatted throughout the meal about various types of music that moved them and why particular ones did more so than others.  The server returned to remove their plates.

“Dessert, Jane?”

“Uh, no.  But an expresso would be fabulous.  Thanks.”

“Just tea for me, please.”

“I’ll be right back, I have to – well, you know,” she said as she popped up from the chair and sauntered down to the river to assuage her craving.

He sat forward and watched her wandering the water’s edge. His pleasure in being with her had certainly grown rapidly.  He was struck at how stunning she was as she stood at the river’s edge simply clad in jeans, boots, and a wine-red suede jacket covering a black top.  She beamed as she turned to climb the slope to return to the table.

“This is lovely, Jimmy.  One more unforgettable thing,” she sighed sliding back into her chair, as the server delivered the expresso, tea, and a plate of anise cookies.

“You’re going back to London tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.  That’s the plan,” she said as she dipped the cookie in the black-brown liquid, and took a bite.  “Let me say again, for the umpteenth time, how wonderful the time here has been.”

“I. . .uhh. . .was thinking of our conversation yesterday about your esoteric proclivities and I was hoping to pry a bit more, if I may?”

She eased back in the chair realizing, by the look in his eyes, he had a definite purpose.  It intrigued her and intuition told her this was a conversation they needed to have.

“Okay, my interest is piqued now!  What do you want to know?”

He relaxed into his arms folded on the table, focusing intently on her, and reached for her hand. He pulled her in closer to him as his thumb skimmed back and forth over the ridges of her knuckles.

“So, you said you weren’t a practitioner, but-“

“Uh, except for yoga, the tarot, and I Ching,” she quietly corrected him.

“Umm, yes. But the other things you mentioned – were you a dilettante or a dabbler, would you say?”

“Are you asking about some specific thing, Jimmy?”  It seemed they were playing cat and mouse around something and he ignored her question.

“The books you read – you said you took away what made sense to you.  I’m interested to understand what that was.”

She entertained his question for some time, trying to formulate what she thought about that whole period of her life- something she'd not done since her girls were young.

“Honestly, high-level - what I learned is there’s a freakin’ universe of stuff we don’t know.  What we do know is probably a minuscule part of what’s out there. All that I read told me that there are people who can tap into something that most of us can’t, at least not in the same way.  Jung’s collective consciousness makes sense to me.  And. . .uhm. . .these individuals were serious and committed to communicating what they experienced but approached it in different ways for different reasons – sometimes for good reasons and sometimes not.  That’s a simple explanation.  I don’t think you’re not proposing a deep philosophical discussion about this right at this moment, are you?”

 “And what did you take away from Crowley?”

“I found his writings difficult.”

He chuckled at her observation.  “Yes, it is, at first,”

“I think he was a much-maligned hedonist who lived an incredible life, right?  But also, a genius who pissed off a lot of people. Maybe I needed to spend more time with his writings to understand what he was proposing, but I’ve never felt compelled to do it.  I do use his tarot deck though.  His stuff on tarot was much more accessible to me.”

“And what about-“

“Tantra?” She slyly finished his question, confident with the choice of word.

“Yes.  Were you a dilettante, a dabbler, or something. . .more, love?”

The intensity in his eyes unleashed a warm frisson running inside her. “Ah. . .I was a little more than dabbler, I guess, but that was. . .well. . .a very long time ago.”

“And how do you remember it, love, fondly or otherwise?”

“Fondly. . . Jimmy, what is it you want to know?” Again, he did not respond but plowed forward; his agenda not yet completed.

“Ummm. . .I want to explain something that may be important for you to know.”

“I don’t –“

“No, just listen, love.  I want you to understand my proclivities.”

“Okaaay. . .”

“If you bear with me a moment, hmmm?”

She nodded.

“On a high level-” he smiled at repeating her caveat.  “You know, there was a strong relationship between the unseen world and humans before societies organized.  It was vital.  As rulers and religions with their hierarchies and agendas became the way of the world, this link to obscure knowledge became a threat to those with power.  The result?  Censuring, demonization, purges, and deaths of those with alternative ways of seeing. The innate ability we once all had slowly disappeared or became forbidden where it remained. John Dee, one of the most learned and esteemed minds of his time, was a counselor to Elizabeth I.  His library was thought to be the greatest in England in the Elizabethan era.  He was a mathematician and a scientist but he was also a magician.  His recorded magical experiences are the underpinnings of the Golden Dawn’s and Crowley’s systems.  Dee had encounters with beings he identified as angels who dictated to him and his scryer, in an unknown language using an also unknown alphabet. The two translated their records which became the basis of Enochian magic. But in his time, brilliance and accomplishment be damned, he was ridiculed, accused, and died in poverty.   I don’t mean to give you a lecture, love, and I am getting to my point.”

“No, please. I don’t feel lectured at all.” 

“Good,” he smiled softly and continued.  “Visitations by beings who imparted knowledge are as old as recorded history – in all cultures.  There were angels, demons, gods, goddesses, malaks, devas- that’s just a few.  So, if throughout history these messengers were observed, why did their visitations cease?   Because again, those who announced interaction with or even privately communed with spiritual beings were dangerous to the powerful and were silenced, banished from society as deranged, as lunatics, as consorting with demons, crazy, except, of course, when they were required to appear as a curiosity. I could go on.  Crowley had his own visitations that led to The Book of Law and his other writings.  And as you said, he was much maligned for it.”

“He was, but I think the sex and drugs contributed to the criticism, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, much like we experienced not so very long ago, yeah? He at one point said he followed 'The Three Kings - smo-king, drin-king and fuc-king.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay," she laughed, "point taken."

“He was very blatant, certainly.  He was devoted to physical pleasure as one way to be open to receiving information and along with certain substances, to free the subconscious desires – true will -  from the control of the conscious mind.  ‘Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law’ and ‘Love is the law, love under will’ are guiding principles in O.T.O. and Thelema. True will is essentially the calling or purpose in life.  Magick is the method to attain that purpose. As you pursue your journey, you cannot interfere with another’s exercise of their true will. . . It is not malevolent. . .And I am a practitioner and have been for a very long time, although not a diligent one.  I do not proselytize nor try to convert.   This is something I engage in privately and without much comment, as you know. There are very, very few people I have had this conversation with and now I’m having it with you.  I hope you understand the regard I have for you to reveal this part of myself.” His eyes scanned her face looking for acceptance or rejection. “So, does that make you want to run screaming for London?”

She started to make a smart remark to his question, thinking it was his usual sarcasm. He had not been this serious in their hours together but he was very serious now.  It was apparent in his piercing eyes, the tightened grasp on her fingers, and the smile missing from his face. She was at a loss for how to respond.  The depth of the admission felt immense.  No words could match it.  All she could do was bring his fingers to her lips where she placed a long, soft kiss.

“Jimmy. . .thank you. . .for trusting me.  And no, I’m not running at all.”  She could not let him go, so she took his hand in both of hers, silent.

“There’s a bit more I need to say, all right?”

“Please,” she said, barely audible.

“You are not alone in experiences you can’t explain.”

“What do you mean, Jimmy?”

“I mentioned that when I read your letter it had peculiarly affected me.  Yes?”

She nodded in agreement.

“That first night, when I was sitting with the letter, I could detect. . .no, feel is a better description. . .an energy coming from the paper and a barely perceptible voice.  Now that I have met you and heard your voice, it is hauntingly similar, my dear.”

“Fuck, Jimmy.”

“Yeah. . .and I had a dream - the very evening - of a white bird that flew to my window seeking entrance. Later I connected it to your letter by some intuition.   Ever since I saw you arrive at The Bull, a whispering of familiarity has gotten stronger.  You’ve confirmed we have not met in the past.  And. . .uh. . .last night I was moved to read my cards as well.  Your reading was perplexing you said; mine was extremely interesting and certainly related to you.  And now with your reaction at the Deanery, I’m at a loss to explain.  But I do know this:  we have a connection that seems to be shouting at us, love.”

“What the hell, Jimmy?  I. . .I. . .don’t know what to. . .Fuck!  What do I do with that?”

“Let’s have a cigarette, hmmm?”  He stood to pull her chair back. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” She handed him a cigarette and lit his then hers.

They walked hand in hand to the river’s edge where they separated each in their own thoughts.  After a minute, he flicked the cigarette into the river and slid behind her.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

He spoke very quietly in her ear. “I had decided to ask you this last night.  I hope your experience earlier doesn’t affect your response, but. . .”

“I’m feeling differently about it, I think. . .not so weirded out.”

“That’s good, Jane, because we have to investigate why we have been drawn to each other this particular way.  You’ve mentioned you don’t have any immediate plans, so would you come to stay at Deanery for a while?  I have engagements in London in a week, give or take, so we could go back together.  Or, if you prefer, you can stay on at the Inn, as my guest. No debate about that, hmmm?”

She turned to him and stepped back. “Wow. You are full of surprises!”

He watched her eyelids start to twitch as she looked down and knew her analytical side had engaged.

“Hey, look at me.”  She was still wide-eyed as she gazed up from the ground.  “You could just say yes, you know, but it’s plain that you have to think about it.” His finger tilted her chin so she looked directly at him. “James will be here all day tomorrow.  If you decide to go back to London, he will take you.  If you decide to come to the Deanery, we can find a good time for him to move you over and if you stay on at the Bull, we’ll figure out when to get together.  No pressure, Jane.  Is that agreeable?”

“Uh, yeah. . .yeah, it is.  Sorry wasn’t expecting that.”

“Shall we get you back to the Bull so you can start your deliberations?”

“Ha! You’re such a smart-ass. Yeah, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jane was restless after returning to the Inn.  She found her way to a table in the far corner of the bar with a double shot. Even that didn’t settle her.  She left the half-empty glass and walked out into the cool evening air.  She headed through the car lot to the gate, knowing the other direction would take her to the Deanery.  She didn’t want to do that.  Absorbed in mentally debating the pros and cons of the situation she found herself in, she paid little attention to direction.  As the night fell, the glimmer of the tea lights from the spot across the lock caught her attention.

Yeah, I’ll hang out here for a while.  Nice and peaceful.

As she approached the bench, in the dimness she saw a figure already occupying the seat. He was hunched over, forearms on his knees, staring out at the water.

Shit!  There’s someone there.  Wait!

Her arrival at the bench was unnoticed. He didn’t respond until she plopped down on the bench disturbing his concentration.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she laughed.  “Sorry. . .didn't mean to disturb your solitary time.  Guess we had the same idea, huh?  Imagine that!”

“Ha!  Hello again, Jane.  I was just heading back.  Please don’t take offense – nothing to do with your arrival.  Do you want me to walk you to the Bull?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

He rose and slung his hands in his pockets. “Good night.”  He leaned over and whispered, “Take your time, love.  No rush, but call me, yeah?”

“Good night, beautiful man.”

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Five

Gwen and Jimmy are going to have their first date! Their outfits are down at the bottom. Outfits (and photos Gwen takes) are always going to be at the bottom. Enjoy and comment to be added to my taglist!

Word Count: 5.4k

Jimmy spent the next two days running around his house, cleaning everything. Would Gwen be looking at his baseboards? Probably not. But was he scrubbing them? Of course.

He had been stressing over what would wow her. He decided on a picnic by the water. He would also play her a song. Possibly something new? Learn a new song for her? He had been killing himself with the thoughts galivanting in his mind. He had to take a moment and ground himself. She is only a woman. He repeated in his head.

Who am I kidding? She's not woman. She's a mythic being at this point. I've been searching for her for as long as I can remember. She's been running in my mind for years. And I've finally got her in my graces.

He quickly returned to running rampant. He was only calm once again when he sat down to make a grocery list. He was going to make them spaghetti and a dessert. That was Jimmy's specialty! He thought of making a sweet roll or perhaps a cake. He really enjoyed baking and cooking, so he thought it would be nice to feed her what he made.

When he returned home, he went right back to working. He began to bake the sweet roll. He enjoyed himself while he baked. He hummed tunes he played on tour. He didn't sound as good as Robert.

His work was finished after the spaghetti was done. He sat on his couch with a huff. His day felt longer than any one he had on tour. But it had just started. Gwen would be on her way soon. He knew he had to pack up the basket and set out a blanket. He was happy to bend over backward for her. Actually, he was overjoyed. He hadn't wanted to give this much in a very long time.

He had been so in his head that he almost lept out of his skin when he heard the knock at his door. He took a calming breath. When he opened the door, Gwen turned to face him. "Um, hi." She smiled wide, meeting his eyes. His breathing stopped. She looked amazing. His eyes trailed from her white platform sandals up to her gorgeous hair. "Hello."

He couldn't believe she was standing before him at his front door.

"You can come in." He lead her through the house, giving her a tour. She looked around in quiet awe. "This is really nice! And it's on the water? That Zeppelin money must be good." She joked.

"Well, actually, I purchased the house when I worked as a session player. Now, that money was good." It was his turn to joke. Her laugh was gentle and light, like the breeze from the tides of the ocean.

"So what have you got planned?" She asked.

"I packed a picnic. I reckon we could have lunch by the water and I could play you something." He looked into her eyes, feeling warmed. Her smile was candlelight paired with red wine. "That sounds amazing! I haven't seen the Thames." She smiled wide. Jimmy snickered at her malapropism. He enjoyed seeing her face turn red when he corrected her. She was so cute when she was embarrassed.

The wood of the acoustic guitar banged against Jimmy's back as their feet trudged along the hillside. The sun was burdening from the clouds for the first time that day. The soft light warmed the air as it swirled around their faces. Gwen felt the ground under her start to shift and become unstable. She lost her balance, fearing she was going to fall. I don't want to look stupid in front of him.

He grabbed her waist at first. His goal was to stop her from falling. When he made contact with her soft skin, he felt electricity run through him. He felt like a lightning rod. His cheeks flushed red. She stopped, turning to look at him. Their eyes found each other and they shared a shy smile. They were absolutely smitten. She placed her hands in his, looking for guidance in him.

He lead her down the hillside by one hand. He had never felt better than in this moment. Her hand was in his, and that was enough for him. It didn't matter if she never talked to me again. We've shared this moment. And that is enough for ten lifetimes.

When they reached the water, he laid out the blanket for them to sit on. They sat as he unpacked the basket. She looked at his pale face as he laid everything out. His lips were pouted in concentration. She looked at the pink flesh in quiet contemplation. She wanted to kiss him so badly. She had been searching for someone like him for years. And now she had him. He was so close, right in her grasp. She hoped that she wouldn't fuck it up. He seemed to like her. He invited her to his house. And he was really clingy at the photoshoot. But she knew that just as quickly as he came, he could go.

Two colorful Tupperware containers filled with spaghetti waited to be devoured. Jimmy then pulled out another container of fresh garlic bread. One half of the loaf was topped with cheese. She gave a little cheer when she saw that he had made her favorite. This made his heart leap from his chest. A smile danced on his face, working its way from ear to ear. She was perfect.

She joined him with a large grin. She couldn't stop staring. His beauty was so jarring. His eyes were intense and alluring. The sun hit them perfectly, bringing out the light tones in his usually dark irises. She could see his pupils were dilated, signaling to her he was just as enamored with her. Her gaze landed on his hair. It was the cherry on the cake; it brought his entire look together. He was so dark and intense, with this thick mane of curly black hair. It was perfectly kinky and complimented his features flawlessly.

"Thank you for this," She smiled, "I haven't had a home cooked meal in a long time." She took a bite, looking out onto the river. The trees reflected in the water, mirroring the lush green. The sounds of the thrashing water soothed her nerves. She took another bite, feeling content. She turned to him, grabbing his hand.

She looked at him, her face warming from his smile. Her thumb rubbed the top of his hand. His skin was so soft. "This is perfect." She commented. This seemed to level him; he was completely settled now. He relaxed his posture and breathed a sigh of relief.

"It is, isn't it?" He replied in her same dreamy tone.

"Do you get out here often?"

"Yeah, I try. When I'm home, at least. I haven't even had much time to decorate my house. I've been on tour pretty much ever since I bought this place. But I like to go out on the water during the Summer. It's lovely."

"You have a boat?"

"No, I have an excellent doggy-paddle."

She laughed at his jest with a deep giggle, "Really? I bet you get some real speed out there!"

"Yeah, I do. You should see me." He took another bite of his bread.

"I'm surprised. Those noodle arms don't look like they'd be much help."

He feigned offence, scoffing and then broke into a smile. Her wit was charming. "No, no, I have a little boat with a radio. When it gets going it can get up to fifteen miles an hour."

"No! You have a speedboat?"

He laughed again, casting his head down and nodding earnestly. "The height of luxury, I know."

"You didn't tell me you were so rich! Next you're going to say we're having caviar."

"No, just the spaghetti."

After they finished their food they settled into the blanket covering the grass. She laid beside him, feeling his heat. She turned, nestling into his side. Both their faces were burning. Jimmy felt the familiar hum of adrenaline in his body. This time it was gentle. The churning in his stomach was quieted. He was lively and excited, but not wired. This was different than the high touring  gave him. This was a gentle injection of energy. Her company brought about a certain inspiration he couldn't shake. He turned to look at her.

Her bright hair rested on his chest. He picked up a chunk, feeling how soft it was. A subtle contentedness clouded his mind. He felt on top of the world. No substance or person had made him feel this way before. He could feel the beginning stages of love start to bud in himself. Maybe it was too soon, maybe it was infatuation. But he could feel something in himself start to turn.

"Do you know your zodiac sign?" He asked. He was weary asking this because some people found it silly. "Yeah, of course. I'm a Taurus sun, Pisces moon, Virgo rising." His eyes widened at each interval. She was perfect in every way. Confusion showed on her face. "Your chart is nearly perfect in conjunction with mine," He excitedly began, "I'm a Capricorn sun, Cancer moon, and Scorpio rising." She was now wearing the same wonderous expression. "We are totally meant to be!"

This joyous agreement nearly brought tears to Jimmy's eyes. He had been dreaming of connecting with her for years. And when he didn't find her, he was afraid it would never come to fruition. But now, here they are. They were sharing a meal and looking into one another's souls. He didn't want to leave this moment. She just was, and that was enough for him.

While Gwen wasn't too keen on astrology, she had the wherewithal to know her big three. And she was happy to because it seemed to satisfy the curiosity of their compatibility. And it brought a beautiful smile to Jimmy's face.

She was skeptical if he was the man she had been manifesting for years. But now that she knew his chart, she was certain. A mysterious man with a kind heart and thoughtful eyes. Those were the keywords she had been using all these years. And Jimmy fit the bill exactly. With the addition of the star's approval, she was ready to dive in headfirst. All doubt of him had left her mind. And perhaps this time it wouldn't end so sourly.

After the exchange of their signs, they sat in quiet harmony. Their hands were intertwined and their breaths aligned. The two were unaware, but something was turning for the both of them. A new light had shone on them. Their luck had begun to change and the trajectory of their lives would never be the same.

After some time of enjoying each other's company, Jimmy asked if she'd like to be serenaded. When she said yes, he quickly sat up and grabbed his guitar. Feeling the cool wood in his hands was magical. He hadn't played in a couple of days, due to his preoccupation with preparing for today. He began to strum aimlessly. The most beautiful song poured from him without a thought. She hummed along to the sound, harmonizing perfectly.

Together, they played for hours. They shared laughs and secret glances. They felt like small children playing under the summer sun. They were unburdened by the pressures of anyone but themselves. All they had were each other at this moment. And they didn't care to think what they looked like or what they should be doing. They were not adults of the earth, they were souls entwined. Ones who were meant to cross and perhaps had met many times before.

Their symphony ended as the day dragged on. They couldn't play forever, because Jimmy was growing tired. His fingers were numb and his hand was cramping. He shook the pain out, sitting his guitar in the grass. She turned to him after a quiet moment. She quickly stood from the blanket and darted away, laughing like a giddy child.

He was confused for a moment but caught on swiftly. He began to chase after her, following the sound of her chortling. He was quick to catch up to her. Her laugh burst into an excited scream as he wrapped his arms around her, sending them to the ground. Before she could recoup, he was off. She leapt from the ground and trailed after him. They spent the next hour playing in the grass this way; hiding behind trees and running from each other.

When the sun began to sink lower into the sky, they made their way back to the picnic blanket. Their hands were entwined as they trekked to their spot. The familiar sight of the guitar and basket entered their view.

Jimmy sighed, leaning down to collect everything. He packed it away and looked to her. "Are you ready to go back?" While she was not eager to leave this perfect day behind, she could feel there was something better awaiting her at the house. She nodded.

When they entered the house, the warm air cradled their tired bodies. While they played together like children, their bones were very much matured. Especially Jimmy, who suffered from poor posture due to the heavy guitar.

Jimmy disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a dessert. It was a sweet roll baked with cinnamon and topped with butter and brown sugar. Her mouth watered as she looked at the dish. "That looks and smells amazing!" A proud glint shone in his eyes. His hard work was paying off. She was thoroughly impressed by all of his efforts.

They sat at his table, looking at one another as they shared the dessert. She was humming in pleasure as she chewed. It tasted as good as it looked.

"So you said you were new in town, do you have any friends?" He asked as he chewed.

"Not really," she laughed, "just me and my cat, most nights."

"You have a kitty cat?"

"Yes, I do I have a kitty cat. Her name is Lucy. She's a British shorthair, a little grey thing."

"Very sweet! I love cats. I've always wanted one."

"I did too. As soon as I moved out I got one." After her plate was cleared, she sat back in her chair. She looked into the white ceiling and pondered the day.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. She looked over at him, "I want to hear you play a song from tour." Her eyes were wild with excitement once more. He stood from the table and lead her to the music room.

The door swung open, revealing the shelves of vinyl and books. She looked from the shelves to him, in awe. "You have a nice collection here! I'm impressed." He sheepishly smiled at the compliment. "Records and books are kind of my souvenirs from tour. I have to pack an entire new suitcase of just what I pick up."

He picked up his guitar and placed his hands on the strings. His mind hesitated for a moment. "I could play you something on this, which you've already heard. Or," He stood from his chair and grabbed an electric guitar off the wall. He plugged it into the amp sitting next to the chair and switched it on, "I could play you something on this beauty." He sat with the brown guitar on his lap. "Play me whatever you want. It'll sound amazing either way." He was again flushed with pride. He enjoyed the endless praise she brought to him.

He began to play Black Mountainside, then transitioned into White Summer. He hadn't played it for her yet. This was on account of using the acoustic Gibson J-200. This was a long-term loner from his friend. But it played so nicely that he didn't want to return it just yet. And he was happy he hadn't. The buttery smooth playing seemed to satisfy Gwen deeply.

When the song was over, he looked up at her. She had a wide grin on her face and her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree. She was utterly enamored by him. He wore a heavy face of concentration when he played. And the sound that came from the amp was unlike anything she had ever heard before. She began to clap for him. "That was wonderful! You are the most talented person I've ever met. Maybe in the whole world!" He was beaming from her words once again.

He played her two more songs. One of them didn't have a name or lyrics yet. He thought he could propose it to the guys for the next album. She seemed to particularly like this one. He peered up at her from his guitar. Her eyes were closed and she was humming along with the melody. She looked so peaceful this way; enmeshed with the music. This made him even more in love with her; she was just as obsessed with music as he was.

He clicked his amp off and sat his guitar back on the stand. "Okay, music time is over." He said. She frowned, begging him with her eyes to continue. "Okay, okay, we can still play some music. But I'm tired of the guitar for now. How about I play you a song on this?" He pulled a mandolin from a small stand in the corner. It was John's but was borrowed for songwriting purposes.

He began to play a Joni Mitchell song. It was instrumental at first but Gwen recognized the tune and began to sing along. His heart nearly leapt from his chest and into her hands at that moment. Her voice was so delicate and light. She sounded almost identical to Joni. He eventually trailed off and stopped. She looked at him, puzzled. "Why did you stop?" He was silent for a moment, then laughed. "I can't remember the bloody chords." She joined him in his laughter. They looked at each other, giggling like children once again. This turned into a fit that lasted what seemed like hours.

When he finally shut the lights off and closed the music room door, they retired to the living room. The sun was setting and pink, golden light filled the room. Gwen looked out the windows and admired the sight. Jimmy was in the kitchen retrieving drinks for them. She stood from her seat and sat on the floor in front of the window. She watched the orange clouds drift past her view. She laid her head on the windowsill and closed her eyes. She was taking in all of the energy around her; drinking it up like a flower in the sun. Her breathing was shallow but still fulfilling. He walked up behind her, admiring her from behind. The sunlight was reflecting off her bright hair. She looked so peaceful.

He sat next to her, draping a soft blanket over their shoulders. She opened her eyes and turned to him. Her only response was a content smile. She closed her eyes once again and rested her head on his shoulder. This made Jimmy's chest ache. His heart began to race as he pulled her closer. He rested his arm around her and breathed in her scent. She smelled like grass and flowers but to him it was the perfect smell. They stayed like this until the sun sunk low into the sky and the moon began to rise.

"This has been the perfect day." She said.

Jimmy looked over at her. She was sprawled on the floor with the blanket wrapped around her. He reached into the fireplace, placing wood and fire starters. "Are you ready for dinner?" He asked as he worked. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound. His lithe hands were working the vents to ensure the logs would light. He lit a match and threw it in, creating a small fire. The heat was immediate and warming.

"If you're making something, of course I'll eat it. You're like a little housewife." She said. This made him laugh. "Oh yeah? Should I put on my little apron and do a dance for you?" The corners of her mouth upturned and her cheeks wrinkled as she giggled. The most beautiful sound Jimmy had ever heard. "Yes, please!"

Gwen joined him in the kitchen as he gathered ingredients. They made small talk as he cooked. She watched him as he worked. He had an intense face of concentration. His lips were pursed and his eyes were focused. She thought the precision he put into everything was admirable. Adorable that he tried so hard, even cooking a small meal.

They sat in front of the fireplace with their plates. The heat from the fire and the plate was soothing. They ate in comfortable silence. She looked at him, pouring over every lovely detail of his face. He was a beautiful man, something she didn't think often.

After their meal was finished, they washed the dishes together. Gwen sat on the counter, drying the ornate plates he had cleaned. They worked in perfect accordance. She shoved herself off the surface after they were finished, "Well, it's getting late. I guess I should get going."

These words were troubling to them both. This day had been so idyllic it would be a tragedy to end it. "If you'd like to go, that's alright. But I would like it if you would stay." He grabbed her hands, pulling her into him. Their faces were close for the first time. She looked down his rosebud lips. They looked plush and soft. "Yeah, that would be nice."

He was so close to her, his head began to spin and he felt dizzy. His face was burning hot and he could feel reality slipping away. All he could feel was her hands on his. His vision went cloudy as he leaned in. A gentle rain of sparks shot down his spine as their lips made contact. Endorphins immediately flooded his brain. A hot feeling ran down to his feet. They were numb, but he was still standing firm on solid ground. He felt an other worldly happiness. The one you get as you die and enter the gates of heaven. He could fall to his knees now and begin praying to her as if she were god. The feeling she gave him was all he ever needed.

Gwen leaned into him for support. Her legs felt wobbly and her breath was stuck in her throat. She had only known him for a short time, but he was the best thing to happen to her. The feeling he gave her was unlike anything she had experienced. She felt an immediate liking for him. They had known each other long before they met. The memories of them together stretched farther than the road behind or in front of them.

No words had been exchanged in minutes, but they perfectly understood each other. Without another word or glance, they two walked together up the stairs. The white wood creaked and moaned as they made their way to Jimmy's room.

She hadn't seen it, or the rest of the upstairs yet. He only showed her the downstairs earlier on his tour. The walls of his bedroom were barren but covered in a lovely floral wallpaper. He had an ornate bed, complete with a canopy. He was like a little princess in his tower.

There was a table next to the large picture window. It was covered in a long cloth adorned with stars and clouds. There was a circle of salt surrounded with candles . In the middle sat three green crystals and a hand full of cypress. This is an altar. Excitement filled her body. She turned to him, a smile wide on her face. "You're a witch too!"

It was his turn to be excited. Too? Oh, this is going to be a joyous union. "Yes, I am! This is my success and happiness altar. I've been using it for about a week." The two shared a glee in their spirituality. "I have a love altar at home." She was giddy, knowing she had been asking her altar to summon him. She smiled sharply at its success. Clearly her magic was working.

Jimmy told her about his fascination with Crowley. He rambled for almost 15 minutes. She learned about his ceremonial robes, manuscripts, and the lore of a home in Lochness that Crowley once occupied. Gwen didn't mind his manic infatuation. She found it cute when he got on his knees and began taking books for the shelf in his room to show her. They were old and fashioned with sigils and different markings. She felt an energy enter the room when he opened these books to show her. It unsettled her because she knew Crowley was into baneful magic. This was not her style. Her magic was based more on good intentions and bringing herself and her loved ones goodwill.

He had been going on about a certain book of sigils, one not written by Crowley. He looked at her, seeing her interest. "I'm sorry if I'm boring you. I get really into these things and sometimes I don't when to shut up." He laughed and closed the book. She took note of how he spoke with his hands, especially when he was excited.

"No, no, it's cute. Really, I love it. I also think it's interesting." His ears perked up when she said this. "Really? I think it is too. I admire the way he was able to harness his energy. I want to be able to do that. Have you ever wanted something so badly, that you willed it with your power? I think that's magical." Gwen wore a sly smirk on her face. She couldn't help but laugh, really. It was ironic that he was so oblivious.

"What? Why are you laughing?" He asked. This made her laugh even more. He was so adorable when he was this clueless. "Nothing, nothing. I'm just really glad that you're telling me about this." He was appeased by her flattery and prodded at her reaction no more.

After a few more minutes of magic talk, they retired to bed. Gwen had plucked a few books from his personal shelves and brought them to the large bed. One of them was the book of sigils Jimmy was holding earlier. It was written by a man named Rudolph Koch. She had never heard of him but felt a connection to the text. She flipped the book open and saw the array of sigils. The symbols were laid out with explanations of them underneath.

"Ooo, I really like this one. I think I'm going to steal it to use in my practice." She pointed to a circular symbol with three rings and a diamond on the inside. "That one symbolizes a person who is fully connected with their mind, body, and spirit. I reckon that would be good to use in a success spell." He said. She nodded, "I've never really used sigils. But I think this book would really help me get a good start." She said.

"You can borrow if you want. I don't really use it that much. I usually stick to my Crowley manuscripts." She smiled an appreciative grin and sat the book down.

They went over the other two books she picked out. One was a guide on green witchery and the other was a Crowley book. They were fascinating and gave her a lot of insight on how to use herbs.  After about an hour, they were finished reading. Gwen was growing tired after the long day of activities. She leaned back into the plush pillows and pondered their time together.

She looked over at him. He turned on his side and cuddled into her. She smiled small and reached an arm around him, pulling him closer. He wasn't asleep but she could tell he was ready to be. She moved lower in the blankets and drifted off. She hoped she would dream of today and the activities they indulged in.

-

When Gwen woke she rolled over and was immediately startled by Jimmy leering over her. He was sitting on his knees, looking intently at her. "Well, good morning."

He smiled and wished her a good morning. "I had a most wondrous sleep. I hope you did as well." He said in his buttery smooth accent. This made her heart flutter. His words were dipped in gold. Even when he spoke the simplest of words it made her knees wobble.

"I would have made us breakfast already, but I didn't feel right leaving your side. I didn't want you to be confused when you awoke. And I reckoned making breakfast together would be a nice way to start the day." She sat up and wrapped her arms around him. They fell back into the mattress and she squealed in excitement.

She pulled away from their embrace and looked into his eyes. He was grinning ear to ear. This is the perfect way to start the day. With her in my arms and in my bed, he thought.

The pair slunk down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sunbeams burst through the window and painted the walls a bright shade of canary yellow. He put a record on in the living room and set it loud enough to trickle throughout the house. They started their breakfast and made small talk as they worked.

When they finally sat at the table, Jimmy had a pensive look on his face. He was deep in thought about Gwen and had been silent for minutes. She was puzzled by his silence because her mouth never stopped moving. She looked at his face in an attempt to gain access to his thoughts. When this didn't work she resolved to ask him. "What are you thinking about? You're always in that head of yours."

He looked at her, seemingly as if he'd forgotten she was there. "I'm thinking of you, of course," He started, "And how for some reason, I can't get you off my mind. You've been on it for some time now." His soft voice paired with the kind words made her head spin. She could feel herself falling so willingly and so fully for him.

"To think of it, I've been dreaming of you for years." He continued, "I remember you began to visit me when I turned 15. It was like clockwork, the way you came." He warmed her with his musings. She was surprised by this information.

I thought my love spells came to no avail. I thought I was stupid for attempting to manifest a person. But it worked! It worked!

She began to laugh. "Isn't that funny?" Was all she said.

The topic was dropped and they finished their breakfast in a comfortable quiet. Gwen sat back and enjoyed the last two tracks off the record spinning while he washed up. She wanted to go back to the water and play more music. Yesterday was so perfect, I wish we could do it again and again. If every day were like that one, I'd have no more worries. Just to spend all my time with him would be heaven.

-

She spent the next two days at Jimmy's Pangbourne home. They shared intimate details of their lives, played music, and spent many hours by the water. He even taught her a couple of songs on the guitar. The two had never felt happier or more at home with anyone before. Especially Jimmy, who had a habit of keeping few around.

When it came time for her to leave, they were distraught. "I don't want to go, but I've got to. I have two shoots today and I can't miss them." She stood from the couch, where they had been watching movies for the last couple of hours. He grabbed her hand, trying to pull her back down. "Can't you just stay for a little longer? You don't have to make the shoots." He pouted. She laughed at how pathetic he was being. "I can come back soon. I have to go to work, though. You know that, Jimmy." He frowned cartoonishly. This made her giggle.

That's all I needed to hear, he thought.

He lead her out to the driveway where her car was parked. "I promise, I will see you soon. I'll give you a call when I get back to my apartment. Then we can set up a time for me to come back." This brought a smile to his face once more, "I'll be waiting." She leaned in and gave him a long hug.

--------------------

Taglist:

@jonesyjonesyjonesy , @paginate54 , @jimmypages , @anothercanyonlady​ , @jimmys-zeppelin​

[paginate54]

Let Me Wander In Your Garden - Chapter Seven - Jane:

". . .you, in particular, seemed to be at times. . .no, a lot of the time. . .in some sort of ecstasy. . .some thrall. Where does that come from, Jimmy? It's the most erotic thing."

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Restaurant WIP

OK, I give up. This is something I posted in the last 2 years, but for the life of me, I can’t find the post. I’m pasting it in here. It’s a little bit in which young Zeppelin end up at a soul food restaurant, due to discrimination they have faced for looking like hippies. This is a super small bit early in where I was trying to go, but I wanted Robert to meet a young African American woman who was a lot more inhibited than him, and the interplay of race and the rigid rules/respectability politics for Black women and kind of forced monolithic culture for African Americans at that point in time. Their contrasts and how they open each other’s minds about the positives and negatives about their worlds.

I kind of want to revisit this setting and vibe for the zepprompts, but we’ll see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Right, let's try this one,” Cole said as the group gathered on the curb. “Fucking narrow-minded Midwestern buggers,” he muttered. 

“It's just hair,” Robert huffed, sweeping his burgeoning mane out of his eyes. “It's not the end of bloody civilization.”

“But it's a sign of our depraved desires to kidnap all the farmers’ daughters, obviously,” said Jimmy with a derisive chuckle.

“But that is your goal, innit?” Robert teased. 

“We should be fine,” said Jonesy, ignoring the banter. “No one's going to be that uptight here.”

“That's because they know how it feels…” Robert mused. 

“All I know is my stomach has been growling since three restaurants ago,” Bonzo said while trying to read the menu, which was taped inside the window. He sighed in frustration because the faded mimeograph sheet was no help at all, but he was optimistic when he contemplated the large number of clientele inside. “Let's give it a go,” he said, pushing the door open. 

They filed inside, their presence announced by the jingling bell that hung from the door frame. The boisterous crowd of brown faces abruptly fell silent. Most of the patrons assessed the group with curiosity and eventually went back to eating, but a few of them glared. The band were foreigners here, would've still been foreigners even if they were American instead of British. 

Robert and Jonesy smiled as they looked around. Bonzo picked up a menu from the cashier counter and commented on the savory aroma in the air. Jimmy stood aside for Cole to speak with the woman who was approaching to seat them. 

“Welcome, gentlemen,” she said with a disarming smile. “I'm Hattie. Five of y'all today?” 

“That's right. And thank you for letting us stay, Miss Hattie,” Cole said with uncharacteristic humility. “We've been shown the door at several other places around here. No longhairs allowed, they all said.”

“Well, I can tell you that's not how we operate here. Everyone is welcome. Isn't that right, Ray?” She glared at a graying man who was dressed in a worn striped suit. He looked to be in his fifties and was one of the diners with guarded expressions. 

Ray, who had not taken his eyes off of the group, turned back to his food without a comment.

“Follow me,” Hattie said, deftly weaving through the sea of tables and chairs that were haphazardly spaced on the white linoleum floor. The group followed. Bonzo paid close attention to the diners’ entrees as he passed, already closing in on his menu choice.

[ineffablesuffering]

So, I've just found a led zep fanfiction that I was writing from 2017 and I have never been so mortified by something, jfc it's horrible