In Our Own Time (B.N)

May 25th 2009

Lindsey Buckingham stood with Mick Fleetwood and John McVie in their shared dressing, awaiting the call for them to go on stage and preform. “Has anyone seen the Goddess?” One of the handlers called into the room. The three men shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her since we arrived.” Mick said. As if by magic, a familiar cackle got closer and closer, travelling from the adjoining dressing room next door. The door opened, and the owner of the laugh entered the room. “Someone looking for me?” Stevie Nicks asked, walking towards her bandmates. “Oh thank fuck for that. Found her!” The handler said, rushing off. “Honestly. How long does it take you to get ready?” Mick asked, gesturing for Stevie to give them a twirl. Stevie twirled, an action that was as familiar to her as breathing. “I’m a woman, Mick. You’ve gotta give me time.” “Yes, but not 4 hours.” John said, chuckling. Stevie pouted. “It did not take me 4 hours, John.” Stevie hesitated. “It was only 3 and a half.” Stevie said at last, winking at them before walking back into her dressing room. Lindsey chuckled. “You guys walked into that one.” He said, taking a swig from his bottled water. “How is it you never walk into her little traps?” John asked. Lindsey shrugged. “You forget I’ve known her since I was 16. I know all her little tricks.” “Does that mean in every situation life has to offer, Lindsey?” Mick said, making Lindsey blush. Mick and John continued to tease Lindsey until Stevie reappeared. “What’s so funny? We can hear you with the door shut. And it’s a pretty thick door.” She asked, standing beside Lindsey. “Oh. Nothing.” Mick said, smirking at Lindsey. “Aw, are they teasing you, Lindsey?” Stevie asked. She rubbed his back. “Poor baby.” She continued, pouting. “Oh, gee, thanks Stevie.” Lindsey replied sarcastically. “Alright Fleetwood Mac. It’s time.” Lindsey took Stevie’s hands in his, as he did every night before the show, and kissed them. “Ready?” He asked her, keeping a tight hold on one of her hands. “Ready.” Stevie replied. She smiled and led Lindsey up the steps and out onto the dark stage to give another memorable performance.

Later That Night

Stevie and Lindsey stood close together on stage, searching the rows closest to them, picking someone to give Lindsey’s sweat rag too. Lindsey pointed to various people, but Stevie shook her head every time. But then she spotted the perfect person. “Her.” Stevie said to Lindsey, point to a young woman in the front row. Lindsey nodded and went to give the rag to the young woman. “Thank you!” She screamed, taking the sweat rag from Lindsey. “You’re welcome!” He shouted back, smiling at her. As Lindsey walked back towards her, Stevie watched as the young woman kissed the young man beside her. They reminded her of the early days, back when she and Lindsey’s romantic relationship was just starting; when nothing but each other and their music mattered. Stevie smiled sadly as Lindsey put his arm around her shoulders and they walked off stage together.

Someone knocked at her dressing room door and Stevie’s sense of déjà vu kicked in. She knew that knock anywhere: soft but firm; a man's knock. “Come on in, Lindsey.” Stevie called out, smiling to herself. Lindsey crept into the room and shut the door quickly. “Sneaking away from someone, are we?” Stevie asked, folding one of her shawls and packing it away. “Mick and John. They want me to go to a late night jam session but I’m way too tired.” Lindsey replied, leaning on one of Stevie’s costume boxes. Stevie rushed over and felt his forehead. She looked at his tired face, examining it. “What?” Lindsey asked. “Oh God. It’s happened.” Stevie said, feeling his cheeks with the back of her hand. “What’s happened?” Lindsey asked, walking past her to look at his reflection in the vanity mirror. “You’ve…” Stevie trailed off, clasping her hands to her chest. “What Stevie?” Lindsey asked again, raising his voice in irritation. “You’ve gotten old, Lindsey.” Stevie said dramatically, covering her face with her hands. Lindsey turned to look at her; she giggled beneath her hands. “Oh ha ha. You’re so hilarious, Ms Nicks.” Lindsey said. Stevie removed her hands from her face and looked at him. Lindsey’s expression mirrored that of a predator ready to pounce upon its prey. He stalked towards her slowly; Stevie backed away. “Lindsey, don’t you dare.” He grinned and chased her around the room; he eventually cornering her by a pink chaise lounge that sat in one corner of the room. Stevie fell back onto it, sitting there, looking up at him. Lindsey stood over her; he reached over and moved a few strands of her long blonde hair out of her eyes. He caressed her cheek; Stevie closed her eyes, blocking out everything else, feeling his touch completely. She realised what she was doing, what was going on, what was bound to happen if they continued. She grabbed his hand quickly and opened her eyes again. “No Lindsey. No.” Stevie said firmly. Lindsey sighed. “Why?” He asked, moving to stroke her cheek again. Stevie pushed his hand away gently and stood up. “Because… We promised.” “You promised.” Lindsey corrected her. “Either way, I won’t do it.” Stevie replied, walking back to her vanity to pack up her makeup. “Why?” Lindsey asked again. Stevie sighed. “What’s so wrong with me wanting to be with you?” Lindsey asked, following her. “Because… You’re a husband and a father now. I’m just a little old lady who has a dog and a niece who comes to see her every once in a while.” “You’re not a little old lady…” Lindsey whispered, resting his chin on Stevie’s shoulder. “Judging by how far you have to bend down to do that, I am, at least, little.” “But you aren’t old.” Stevie smiled at Lindsey in the mirror, his bright blue eyes fixed on her face. “Tomorrow’s date begs to differ.” Stevie said looking at the page left open in her journal. “You’re only turning 61 tomorrow, Steph. That’s not that old.” Lindsey said, noticing that Stevie hadn’t written anything in her journal. “Hmm. If only everything you said was true, Linds. But it isn’t. I’m an old woman. An old woman, who doesn’t have a family like you do to show I’ve lived; I only have gold records.” Lindsey chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind having some of your gold records too.” Stevie laughed, reaching up to touch the grey curls on Lindsey’s head. “If it helps, I never understood why you weren’t more successful. Not that you weren’t successful but…” Lindsey smiled, stopping Stevie from digging herself into a deeper hole. “I get it, Stevie. Thank you.” He kissed her shoulder and walked back to the door. Stevie snapped her small makeup case shut and put her favourite black shawl around her shoulders. Lindsey opened the door. “Ladies first?” He said, motioning for Stevie to walk out before him. Stevie chuckled and walked out of the door. Lindsey watched her assests as she walked past him. “My face is up here, Linds.” Stevie said, knowing exactly where he was looking without even looking at him. Lindsey shook himself out of it and blushed. Stevie cackled. “C’mon. Your wife will be wondering why we’ve been off stage for over an hour and you haven’t called her.” Lindsey sighed. “Alright. I’m coming.” He said, shutting the door behind him.