Buckingham Nicks Shorts

Familiar Sensation

Stevie had always loved the feel of Lindsey's calloused fingertips on her skin, dancing wherever they pleased; no area of her body was off limits to him. But lately, things had grown cold between them, and Stevie wanted nothing to do with Lindsey or his magic touch. He had a girlfriend and she felt like she was just the third wheel. Stevie Nicks was nobody's third wheel.

Stevie rolled over onto her back, wincing at the pain that ran up it. Maybe her mother had been right; maybe she shouldn't be touring when she was in constant pain. But this was The Dance; this was Fleetwood Mac’s comeback. No amount of pain could stop her. It didn't stop Lindsey in 1980; it wouldn't stop her in 1997.

Oh, but she couldn't stand it. Sitting up, Stevie rubbed her back. She took a sharp intake of breath when she pushed far too hard on the point of pain. It must have been loud, because someone knocked on her hotel room door. "Coming!" She called out. Wrapping her silk dressing gown around her, Stevie made her way to the door. Opening it, Stevie was surprised to find Lindsey standing there. "What are you doing here?" She asked coldly. "I heard you gasping. I thought you were either in here with some guy, doing the dirty, or your back was playing up again." Stevie looked back into the room. "Well there’s no guy here." She said, turning back to face him. "Must have been your back then." Lindsey replied. "Must have been." Stevie agreed. They stood awkwardly, in silence, for a few seconds. "What did you want then?" Stevie asked at last. Lindsey shrugged. "Well, I had a hunch it would be your back. So I thought I'd come and see if you needed anything." Stevie just managed to keep a smile from appearing on her lips; Lindsey could be too sweet for his own good sometimes. "Have you got a new spine?" She asked, making Lindsey chuckled. "No, but I can give you a massage or something? Like you used to do for me, remember?" Stevie did remember. Most of the massages she remembered giving Lindsey, however, were when they were supposed to be each other's greatest enemy. Ahh, the Tusk tour...

Stevie sat down on the bed, crossing her legs. Lindsey stood hesitantly by the door. "How bad does it hurt?" He asked. "A lot. Why?" "Because it'll determine how long I'll be here." Stevie frowned. "Why does that matter?" "Well...I suppose it doesn't. Kristen isn't here so..." Stevie rolled her eyes. Jesus, it was Carol Ann all over again. "Steph, don't be like that." Lindsey pleaded, noting the eye roll. Stevie held up her hands. "Sorry. But you can't blame me for feeling a bit put out." Lindsey nodded, crossing the room. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. Let's just not talk about her, okay?" Stevie agreed. "So... Shall we begin?" Lindsey asked, cracking his knuckles. Stevie winced. "Sure. Just don't do that again, okay?" "Yes ma'am." Lindsey replied, saluting her. Shaking her head, Stevie laid down on her stomach. Lindsey quickly got to work. After about 10 minutes, he stopped suddenly. "What's up, Buck?" Stevie asked, looking over her shoulder at him. "You...er... may need to take your top off." Stevie closed her eyes; she had hoped it wouldn't have come to that. "Really?" She asked. "I can feel the knots in your back. I can't get to them with all this pink silk in the way." Stevie giggled. She nodded and raised herself up. "Here." She asked, taking her robe off. "You go hang this up in the bathroom and I'll... y'know." Lindsey took the robe and wandered off into the bathroom. Stevie quickly pulled her top over her head and, folding it somewhat neatly first, put it on the floor.

Lindsey gulped when he remerged from the bathroom. The bright moonlight shone on Stevie’s bare back, making everything so much more visible. How was he ever going to get through this without ripping her pants off too? He stood nervously by the bed and tried not to react when Stevie's face appeared, smiling gently up at him. "If you don't want to do it - if it makes you uncomfortable - just hand me my top and you can go." Lindsey shook his head furiously. "How could I be uncomfortable about you? I've seen every inch of you, hundreds of times before." "Well, y'know. You've got Kristen now..." "I thought we weren't gonna talk about Kristen? Let's not even say her name." "But you just did." Stevie pointed out. "So did you." Lindsey countered. They stared at each other through the dimly lit room and started laughing. "Right, Stevie, shut up. Let me help your poor old back." "Hey! Less of the old."

Stevie glared at Lindsey. "Give me it, Lindsey." She growled, holding the cushion tightly to her chest. Lindsey smirked. "I don't think I want to do that.” He replied. “Lindsey… I swear to God. If you don’t give it to me, I’ll – “ “You’ll what? Come and get it yourself? Cos that would be mean letting go of that cushion. And you’re not really in a position to do that, are you?” Stevie growled again and Lindsey outright laughed. “Stop growling, Steph. It’s not gonna do you any good.” Stevie pouted. “I thought you came here to help me.” She whispered. “I did. But… you know me. I can’t resist you.” Stevie cracked a smile. “I can see that smile, y’know.” Lindsey said, edging closer to the bed. Stevie stuck her tongue out, releasing her grasp on the cushion just a little. “Please give me the top, Lindsey.” She asked, pleading a little. Lindsey was, by now, standing quite near her. Stevie carefully let go of the cushion with one hand and held it out. “Please?” She asked, her voice ever more pleading. Lindsey took hold of her hand. Sitting down on the bed in front of her, it was his turn to plead. “Please?” He asked, mirroring her. “Please what?” She asked. “Be mine.” Lindsey replied, lacing his fingers through hers. Stevie sighed. “What about Kristen?” She asked, not caring that they had said they wouldn’t mention her. “She never has to know.” Lindsey replied. “But she’ll find out. Everybody finds out.” Stevie reasoned. Lindsey kissed her hand; putting his lips softly to each knuckle, one by one. He was surprised when Stevie’s lips appeared and kissed his own knuckles. When he looked up, the cushion was gone. “Okay.” Stevie whispered. “Take me if you really want me so bad.” “I do…” Lindsey muttered, pressing his lips to hers.

Stevie had always loved the feel of Lindsey's calloused fingertips on her skin, dancing wherever they pleased; no area of her body was off limits to him. And this was no exception. Ignoring the throbbing in her back (Lindsey was still an extremely passionate lover), Stevie rolled onto her side. Lindsey lay beside her, on his stomach, asleep. It was moments like this when she wondered why she bothered to fight off his advances. He always won the battle. And she loved to watch him sleep. Stevie blew lightly on his face, and Lindsey stirred. His arm came around her and she felt the familiar sensation of his fingertips on her back. “Does that make it feel better?” He asked, his voice gruff from sleep. Stevie smiled and kissed his cheeks. “You make me feel better.” She replied. Lindsey opened his eyes, the brilliant blue even clear through the darkness. “Love you, Stevie.” He mumbled. Stevie grinned. “Love you too, Lindsey.”