That You And I Had Surely Reached The End (Flashback Part Two)

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Venice Beach, California
Sunday, May 31, 1987
(10:00 pm)
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Mick had forced himself long ago to stop fantasizing about how it would feel to kiss Stevie, knowing it was doing him no good to wonder how soft her lips were, how she tasted, what it would be like to touch her face, her hair, to feel her tiny, delicate hands on him.

Over a decade of fantasies paled in comparison to what was happening to him right now.

Stevie was lying beneath him against the arm of the couch, her hands cradling his face as she returned his kiss with a surprising amount of passion. There was a small voice in his head that kept reminding him that he was kissing another man's wife - not just any man but his good friend and band mate at that. The voice reminded him of the pain he'd felt when he'd discovered that Jenny had been sleeping with Bob Weston, and now he was putting Lindsey in the same position with every moment his mouth was on Stevie's right here in the living room where they sat together every evening with their children and their dogs and were a family. He was furious with Lindsey Buckingham - once again he'd gone and behaved like a temperamental French chef and decided that the band had to dance to his tune - but somehow, the fact that Stevie was lying beneath him and his tongue was exploring every sweet corner of her mouth seemed too steep a punishment for the crime.

Mick's final surprise of the night came when he backed away first, sitting up and trying to catch his breath while Stevie did the same, looking up at him in a mixture of confusion and despair.

"Stevie, I'm sorry," he muttered, smoothing down the hair that had escaped from his small, low ponytail and then the hair of his beard. "I didn't mean to..."

Stevie almost laughed as she scrambled to a sitting position beside him, and she smiled as she gave the hair on his chin an affectionate swipe with her finger and said, "Sure you did."

Mick's affection for Stevie had always been the worst-kept secret in their group of friends and colleagues. Even Lindsey, for all of the jealousy and possessiveness and darkness that had plagued the earlier years of their relationship, had come to look upon Mick's not-so-secret crush as an inside joke between friends. Stevie inched closer towards him on the sofa, the look in her eyes turning from confusion to understanding and even love...but one that was a lot more platonic than the way she'd been kissing him just a moment ago. He knew what she was about to say, so he spoke first because he was in no particular hurry to be turned down by the love of his life.

"I acted like a total jerk that night in Hawaii," he began, and Stevie breathed in to prepare to speak, but he brought a finger to her lips to stop her. His finger lingered for just a moment before he continued. "Seriously, Stevie, I want to apologize to you for that. I was miserable that night...Jenny was gone and who the fuck knew when I was going to see my girls again...not to mention the whole way Sara and I got started...but I owe you an apology, Stevie, and I owe Lindsey an enormous one as well. I was pissed as hell and I'd done who knows how much coke that night, between the party downstairs and Sara's personal stash...but that was no excuse to try to kiss my good friend who was pregnant and days away from marrying another good friend. I'm sorry, Stevie. To you and to Lindsey...and even to Julia because she was inside you when it happened...I'm truly sorry."

"Mick, that's been water under the bridge for so long now," Stevie said, looking confused again. "Why bring up that night now?"

"Because this time...when I kissed you just now..." Mick looked down between them to summon his courage, and before looking up again he noticed their hands were clasped together. The feeling of her tiny, soft hand in his felt so natural and so right that it was painful. He looked up at her again. "I was not drunk, I was not high. In fact, I've been sober for a week and that's part of the story I didn't want to get into tonight regarding Sara..." He took a final long, deep breath to prepare himself for the next thing he said. "I'm in love with you, Stevie. I've loved you from the first time I saw you, dressed like a flapper girl on New Years Eve and happy for the free meal because you were broke and lighting up the restaurant with your beautiful smile."

"Mick..." Stevie looked at him with a combination of love and pity, rubbing her thumb gently against his hand. "I love you too, you know...you're one of my best friends in the world...but you know that isn't the same thing as what you're suggesting...don't you?"

"As much as it pains me to say it, my dear, I do," he said. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for tonight, too. You're in a lot of pain right now and everything is all jumbled and tensions are high...and the last thing you need is some big, wacky Englishman coming in to make things even more complicated...but you have to know, Stevie...you have to understand that watching you go through this all, not just about the tour but what it means for your marriage, your children, your household and all...it kills me to watch you hurting, sweetheart. I just want to scoop you up and put you in my pocket and shield you from it all so you don't have to be so heartbroken."

For the second time that night, Stevie felt tears in her eyes. This time they were quiet tears; she was not upset as much as she was touched by Mick's sweet, beautiful declaration of love. She knew she'd have been lying to herself if she'd never given a thought to what could have been, how she and Mick would have worked together if Lindsey were not in the picture. She thought back to the flattery she'd felt years before when Mick's feelings for her had first begun to leak out - the lingering hugs on tour, the gift of Edith Piaf's albums in a box set because he'd told her how much she reminded him of the beautiful, tortured French singer of "La Vie En Rose", the late night alone together in the studio when she'd blown through multiple boxes of tissues and bags of cough drops as she'd struggled to record a good take of "Gold Dust Woman" when the rest of the band had given up and gone home. She remembered the dream she'd once had as she'd slept beside Lindsey in a hotel room in Hampton, Virginia, the dream in which Mick had held her close on the dance floor, his hands running softly along her delicate frame and saying with genuine love and concern the same words Lindsey had just told her in real life after they'd made love - "I could snap you in two, baby girl." She'd be lying if she said her love for Mick Fleetwood was completely platonic...but she knew deep down that it was irrelevant.

No matter what was going on in the band, no matter how anger and heartbroken she was at his decision to abandon Fleetwood Mac and the upcoming tour, no matter what problems they'd had in the past, her heart belonged to only one man.

Stevie Nicks' heart belonged to Lindsey Buckingham.

Mick made a motion to stand up then, announcing he was going to go home, but Stevie stopped him.

"No, Mick, don't be silly," she said, her hand falling to his bare forearm. He tried not to think about the softness of her touch on his skin and what it would feel like if she touched him everywhere else on his body with those soft, warm, delicate fingers, the long, sexy red nails scratching along his body in their wake. "It's okay; nothing is wrong with you hanging out a little while longer. You don't have to go." But Mick knew his limits - strangely enough for him, a man of excess - and he smiled at her.

"I'm afraid I do, my dear," he said, and he rose to his feet. Stevie nodded understandingly, and together they walked to the front door. Standing in the open doorway, Mick looked at her with concern and said, "It's going to be okay, you know. But whenever you get to feeling like it's not, you give me a call, alright?"

Stevie smiled and said, "Thank you, Mick. I'm sorry this is all so much...you don't deserve to be stuck in the middle of this."

"That's rock and roll, I guess," he said in a purposefully witty tone, and they shared a moment of nervous laughter. He leaned down over her then, towering over her in her bare feet, and placed a soft, almost fatherly kiss on her forehead that made her eyes close and open again slowly. "Good night, sweetheart," he said, his voice almost a whisper. It was the last words she heard from him before he walked down the winding path outside the house towards his car in the driveway, and Stevie stayed there in the doorway until the sound of the engine grew softer in the distance and disappeared. Only then did she lock herself and the kids and the dogs in for the night, wondering as she climbed the stairs to check on Julia and Aaron what her life might have been if, by some odd twist of fate, she'd given Mick a chance all those years ago.

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