The P.A.

Chapter 52: Getting Good Reviews (again!)

"The Olympics doesn't have a sprinting team, plonker," MJ murmured.

"Oh, that's nice," Heath huffed, blinking as he sat on the stool. "That's it, no sex for you tonight. My body is closed for business."

MJ snorted and nearly dropped her guitar. "Please, Heath, don't make me snarf boogers out my nose in front of eight thousand people, okay?" She strummed a chord and looked at him. "Shall we start with 'Love You More Than Anything'?" she asked with a straight face.

Heath, too, managed to keep a straight face for a few beats, then his face crumbled into uncontrollable laughter. "Yeah, let's start with that one," he finally agreed, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

As Heath straightened up, MJ saw Meredith again, with that look in her eyes.

MJ was sure no one had ever hated her more than Meredith Renner had.

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The next day MJ got her first review. In a five paragraph piece in the Arts and Entertainment section of the Sunday edition, her part in the concert got its own write up, a positive piece in which she was compared favorably to Adele, Amy Winehouse, and even a young, more refined Janis Joplin.

In addition to getting his own positive review, Heath was mentioned in MJ's review also, being called her Svengali, with a couple of references to Pygmalion. "While the relationship between Heath Spencer and Meadow Rain isn't yet clear, it's obvious he's played a huge part in nurturing her, in being the Svengali to MJ's Trilby, though definitely in a much more wholesome way."

Heath laughed and turned to MJ, who was sitting next to him on the plane. "You hear that, my love? I'm your Svengali!"

"Svengali was a horrible man, an evil person," MJ pointed out.

"I was called 'Pygmalion' as well," Heath said. "Pygmalion ended quite happily, as I recall." He sat back, smirking.

MJ just looked out the window, but turned back to Heath after only a few seconds. "Did you notice the paper didn't mention Meredith at all?" she asked, lowering her voice, even though Meredith was on the other end of the first class cabin.

Heath nodded. "Yeah, that's the best part."

"I can't but feel like we're going to pay for this," MJ said, snuggling into Heath's side.

"You worry too much," Heath responded. "Now go to sleep, and dribble on my shoulder. That's an order."

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Much later, after they were settled into their suite in Seattle, they were having a different kind of argument.

"Why? Just tell me, give me one good reason why, and I'll stop bugging you."

"Fuck it all, I can't!  Why isn't it enough that I say so?"

Frustrated brown eyes glared at hooded dark blue eyes.

They were dressed for bed, with Heath in cut-off sweats, and MJ in her tie-dye cami knickers that he liked so much. Heath was sitting up in bed, and MJ was sitting on the edge of it, arms crossed.

"But I talked to people! I practiced! I think I know how! Are you afraid that I'll be bad at it? That I'll blow at it?"

They both heard her words and tried not to be the first to laugh.

Heath, finally, couldn't help it and cracked a smile.

"Oh, Jesus, I can't believe we're arguing about this." He scooted forward and rubbed MJ's back. She tried, but not very hard, to shrug his hand away.