17th December

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“Lindsey! Someone’s on the phone for you!” Lindsey jogged out of the studio to the reception desk. “Thanks Doris.” He said to the receptionist, taking the phone off her. “Hello?” Lindsey said into the phone. “Hi. Is this Lindsey Buckingham?” Lindsey frowned at the crisp English accent that sounded on the other side of the telephone. “Yea… Who’s this?” “This is Mick Fleetwood, from the band Fleetwood Mac. You probably haven’t heard of us; we’re better known in England than in the US.” Lindsey nodded as Mick talked. “I’m sorry… Mick, is it? I’m sorry to sound rude, but I’m kinda busy right now. Is there something you wanted?” Mick cleared his throat. “Yes… Quite right… Sorry. What I was calling for was… Well, I was at the studio a while back and Keith Olsen played me your guitar part. Remember?” Lindsey thought back two weeks and suddenly remembered. “Oh yea. You’re the tall guy.” Mick laughed. “Yes, that’s me. Well, as you may have seen, I love your guitar playing. Fleetwood Mac’s guitarist has just left and… I’d like you to be our new guitarist.” Lindsey stood silent for a few seconds. “Hello? Hello? Lindsey? Are you still there?” Mick’s voice shook Lindsey out of his trace. “Yea, yea I’m still here. Let me get this straight: you want me to be your guitarist?” “Yes.” Lindsey thought about it. Then it occurred to him: what about Stevie? “Mick, the thing is, I’m already part of a duo…”

“Oh. But we’re not really looked for anyone other than a guita –” “I’m sorry then, Mick. Thanks for the offer. But if you want me, you take my girlfriend too.” Mick was quiet for a second.

“Is that the girl who greeted you when I was at the studio.”

“Yea. That’s Stevie Nicks, my girlfriend.”

“Mmm. She any good?” Lindsey scoffed.

“She’s got a voice like no other.” Lindsey heard Mick talking to someone in the background.

“Alright, Lindsey. I’ll talk to my bandmates about it.”

“Does that mean that you’ll take Stevie too?” Lindsey asked excitedly.

“We’ll see.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to Stevie.”

“Alright. Keith has my number. Call me if you need too.”

“Alright. Goodbye Mick.”

“Goodbye Lindsey.”

Stevie sighed and unlocked the door of the apartment she shared with Lindsey. It had been another long day at one of the restaurants she worked at. Stepping into the apartment, she was met with the smell of food and scented candles. Stevie could hear her old scratchy copy of ‘McCartney’ by Paul McCartney playing on the record player. She finally spotted Lindsey sitting on the floor behind their coffee table/dinner table, wearing his dressing gown. “What’re you trying to do, lover boy?” Stevie asked, as she turned back to lock the door. “I just wanted to surprise you.” Stevie dumped her bag and coat on their old couch and sat opposite Lindsey on the other side of the table. “Mmm. That’s what you say. But there’s something else. You never cook unless you have something to tell me.” Lindsey rolled his eyes, taking Stevie’s hands across the table. “Just eat your dinner.” Stevie stuck her tongue out at him and they began eating.

“So… What’s the deal then?” Stevie asked. She and Lindsey were laid on their couch, flicking through Stevie’s old poetry book. Stevie had changed out of her uniform and was now matching Lindsey by wearing her own dressing gown. Lindsey took the book from Stevie’s hands and placed it gently on the floor. “Well… I got a call today from Mick Fleetwood.” “Who…” “He was the tall guy heading banging to ‘Frozen Love’. Remember him?” Stevie thought about it and nodded. “Well, he called and asked me to be the guitarist in his band, Fleetwood Mac.” Stevie scoffed. “Original name. So, what did you say?” Lindsey held Stevie’s delicate little hand up, examining her long, red nails. “Did you get these done?” He asked, changing the subject to wind her up. Stevie snatched her hand away and used it to turn Lindsey’s face towards her. “Lindsey, what did you say?” Lindsey smiled. “I said I’d only join if they’d take you too.” Stevie let out a sigh of relief; if he had said yes to joining the band without her, they would have been finished. “Mick is gonna talk with his bandmates and I said I’d talk with you.” Stevie nodded, playing with the hair on the exposed part of Lindsey’s chest where his dressing grown had opened. “What kind of music do they play?” She asked. “Blue according to Keith.” Stevie nodded. “Well, wait a bit. I’m gonna see if I can get their records. Y’know, see if we can bring anything to them.” Lindsey nodded. He stood up. “Linds…?” Stevie asked. Lindsey suddenly dropped his dressing gown, standing butt naked in front of her. She giggled and stood up in front of him. Running past him, she de-robed herself, revealing her own bare flesh. “Coming to the bedroom, Mr. Buckingham?” She called asked she ran. “With pleasure, Miss Nicks!” Lindsey replied, running after her. Their immature giggles transformed into moans of pleasure at they made love to each other until the sun rose in the L.A. sky.

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