Every time you make a move

Flashback Filler-On the road again pt 1

Fort Worth, Texas, 11th December 1977

"Would you be able to have her ready within the hour?" John Reid anxiously looked across the yard as the garage workers unchained the tourbus from the garage company's tow truck. It was dark, seeing as the sun wasn't up yet, but the yard lights illustrated enough.

"Sorry, man. She's a big baby," the garage manager, a rugged figure in stained overalls who spoke with a strong southern accent and reeked of engine oil shook his head. "My workers can't make time go faster for even the world's best rock band right now"

"Well, the boys and crew need to be in Houston by this afternoon for sound check and we don't want to get a flight. They'll be knocked over by publicity," Jim Beach added. "What are the options?"

"Well, we also do rentals. There's a bay around the back" the manager suggested.

Wanting to have their sweet old tourbus back and retain a sense of closure for the band, yet completely lost for ideas, John and Jim looked at one another for answers as to how they should respond.

Meanwhile the band (all except Roger, he slept in) and their crew were wondering around inside the foyer of the offices' main building, tired and clueless as to when they'd be on their way to their next stop in their US tour for News of the World.  Whilst the roadies guarded the baggage, John was looking at the local road maps on the stand and Brian preparing his camera to capture another candid of the team. As for Freddie, he sat hunched on the bench as Monica lingered by his side, tapping her foot impatiently as she played with the buttons of her camel coat.

"I want to get on the road... I don't like this place!" He croaked, his voice still sore and slightly gravelly from their concert the night before.

Monica sat down on the space beside him, and put her hand over his, "I'm sure we will reach Houston by tonight. You're Queen, you're too in demand. Someone will make sure you get there."

"Hmm... being in Queen sure does take its  toll... and how in the bloody hell did those people find us here?"  he looked out the window anxiously at the groups of several fans being held back by security outside the garage doors.

A black limousine pulled up, and Roger limped out of it, Crystal in tow with his bags.

"Oh fuck, Roger's drawn more attention to us" Freddie huffed, then fumbled through his top pocket and took his shades out.

"Well look what the cat dragged in... I take it you saw John's [Reid] note on the mini bar" Brian turned to the drummer as the glass doors swung open as he strode in.

"Don't talk to me about cats, I miss my little Mandy and Goliath" Freddie spat, not making eye contact, and Monica's thumb slid across his knuckles gently.

"Good morning to you too" Roger rolled his eyes.

"She won't be so little by the time we get back" Monica tried to lighten his mood.

Freddie grumbled and dug a few cents out of his pocket, "Do stay here and keep watch. I might ring Mary's flat about the cats on that payphone over there while we wait"

"You aren't going to try talking to them now, are you? We're about to head out the door" She felt his hand slip out of hers as he stood up.

"Only if there's time" He pecked her lips.

But Mr Reid interrupted as he was about to disappear, "We're sorted, lads! There's a red whopper waiting for us out the back."

"Well, thank fuck for that" Freddie lifted Monica's bag from the floor as Peter Hince took his, the foyer erupting with sighs of relief.

"What about Mary and your beloved cats?" She asked in disbelief, following quickly behind.