That Blue Gibson: Another Round

forty-one

The reception was wild, even for their standards. Expensive champagne and even pricier liquor, offset by rich French food and a gorgeous hotel that didn't seem to mind their loud music meant it was easy to get lost in the celebration. 

Dusk was falling in the courtyard and Dave was laughing with Nate and Gus about some old tour memory when he realized he hadn't seen Liz in awhile. Making some excuse, he grabbed a bottle of champagne from the bar and set off in search of her, finding both the dance floor and the bar packed with everyone but his wife. The last thing he wanted to do was text her, she'd been stuck on her phone all day, but a little ribbon of worry snaked up his spine.

Marco...

Only a few seconds later, his phone chimed in response.

Wahlberg. Roof terrace.

He was accompanied in the elevator by a well dressed elderly couple that clearly disapproved of his long hair and the raucous party he was associated with, so he politely held the door for them when their stop came, smiling kindly at their contrite faces when they passed. The elevator stopped again at the floor the apartments were on and he hurried up the stairs that led to the terrace, hoping she was alone up there. 

The door creaked a bit when he opened it and a cursory glance around proved no one had discovered the terrace yet. The music from the courtyard drifted up along with the occasional eruption of laughter and he was beginning to think he had missed her when a quiet strum of an acoustic guitar being tuned drifted from behind the stairs. Tucking the champagne bottle under his arm, he rounded the corner and found her reclined in a chair with her gold heels propped up on the railing and the guitar in her lap. 

He held back, wanting a moment just to take her in without any distractions. The narrow space was lit with dim string lights and candles that littered the few tables making her dress glitter against the backdrop of Paris at night, and a nearly empty champagne glass sat on the table beside her, making him congratulate himself on thinking to bring more. 

"Want some company?"

She leaned into his touch when he traced his fingers from the tip of her shoulder up into her hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her, "Yes, please."

Dragging a chair across from hers, he settled in to refill her champagne glass and pulled her feet off the railing to rest in his lap, "Shirking your bridesmaid duties, I see."

"I paid my dues, Grohl," she muttered with a smile and tipped back at least half of the champagne he'd poured her. "Allison took over the Josie-sitting for me, much to Taylor's dismay."

"Yeah," Dave laughed into his own glass, "He was pouting when I came up here."

She smirked and strummed a few chords, a familiar tune though the name escaped him while he watched her stare out across the skyline. Her brow was creased just enough to let him know she was thinking hard about something, so he set his hand on her ankle and traced lines on her skin while waiting for her to speak whatever was on her mind. After a while, though, their quiet was interrupted by Taylor's tipsy drawl from the courtyard below.

"Ladies and gentlemen... the bride and groom asked me to come up here and-"

"Oh jeez," Liz threw her head back into a laugh, "Cause what bride doesn't want a Taylor Hawkins karaoke jam at their wedding?"

"You don't?"

Her stare locked onto his and her head tipped just enough that he wasn't sure if she was challenging him or questioning him. So, he lifted her feet off his lap and dropped them curtly beside him, then reached forward to snatch the guitar out of her arms. She carefully sat forward, looking uneasy about his sudden change in mood, but let him tug her out of her chair and lead her to a spot by the railing surrounded by candles with a gorgeous view of the city and the Eifel Tower beyond.