Title: Don’t Look Away: Chapter Eighteen, Some Kind of Protection
Rating: R [language, alcohol]

Summary: Cady & John bond while Cady adjusts to life on the road with The Who.





Settled in the hotel in Calgary, Cady curled on her side in the hotel bed. She did not know where Pete was at the moment. It surprised her that she did not seem to care either. The flight had been mostly uneventful, she spending the time conversing and getting to know the bassist. She had felt an instant connection with him, each mile passed high in the sky increasing it. In the very least, she believed there was someone other than Pete she could talk to, spend time with, on this whirlwind tour with The Who. At that very moment, alone in the hotel room, it did not matter. Her soul ached and she could not quite explain it. She was with her boyfriend, where she should be. The heartache should have disappeared. It had been absent those few days in New York City, touring about, making love, and just being together. She had even gotten to know his band mates some. Why did she ache so? Everything was as it should be.

Sighing, she pushed up and turned on the lamp nearest the bed. She rolled out of the bed and moved around the room. Squatting in front of her suitcase, she dug out the tour itinerary, trying to figure out where Pete was. With a sigh, she dropped it on the table. Maybe she should not have elected to stay back in the hotel and nap. Listening to his interview would have been far more enjoyable.

Cady turned on the TV for a few minutes, standing next to it and changing channels. Finding nothing that garnered her interest at all, she turned it back off and sat on the bed. Her eyes flicked to the clock. Eleven-thirty at night and no Pete. Her gaze settled on the phone. If it was eleven-thirty there, it had to be morning time in England.

“No, I am not calling James merely because I’m lonely and restless. Maybe I can find something else to do in the hotel. It’s not like I’ve never been on tour before,” she muttered to herself.

Slipping on a pair of shoes and tucking some cash and her hotel key into the pocket of her jeans, Cady left the hotel room. Less than a dozen steps from the room, she quickly hopped to the side as Keith screamed and bolted down the room after a topless girl. Realizing it was Cady he passed, he stopped immediately and turned back to her. Their eyes briefly met and she knew instantly she had suddenly become his prey. With a squeal, she hurried down the hallway, hoping for some kind of protection.

As she passed the room John and Keith shared, the door opened. Without a thought, Cady ducked into it. Not even showing any emotional response, John swung the door closed a moment before Keith reached it. Leaned against the door, the bassist locked it and pulled the chain across.

“Thank you,” Cady muttered a bit breathlessly.

He smirked, still leaning against the door as Keith attempted to get in, “What did you do to get Keith’s attention?”

“Walked by,” she responded.

John chuckled, “Yeah, that is all it takes. A beautiful bird like you walking by certainly turns Keith’s head. What happened to the topless one?”

“I don’t know,” Cady answered. 

“All the same,” he pounded on the door behind him. “Leave ‘er alone, Keith! She’s Pete’s woman!”

A muffled response that Cady could not quite understand preceded the halt of the door banging. John waited another few moments before leaning away.

“Would you like a drink?” he offered.

“Um, sure, that would be nice,” she smiled slightly.

“Pete’s not back from the interview yet, is he?” John stated, heading over to the bottle of whiskey on the dresser.

“No, he’s not. And I’m feeling a bit restless,” Cady answered.

He held out a small glass, ice cubes clinking in the whiskey, “Kit probably has him going and going and going.”

“Thank you,” she accepted the glass and sipped slowly. “I should have gone with him. I thought I’d just get a brief nap and then he’d be back. But…”

“To be honest, he normally isn’t gone this long. Not that I want to worry you or anything, love,” he stated and poured himself a drink.

Cady took a bigger drink and sat on one of the beds, “Yeah, that’s not helpful at all, John.”

He smirked and sat next to her, “Sorry. You don’t need to worry about Pete. He’s fine. I’m sure of it.”

“I’m not worried about him,” she replied, finishing her drink.

John stared at the glass with only ice in it, “Then what is it?”

She sighed, “I’m bored. And lonely.”

He slipped the glass out of her hand and moved to refill it, “Well, now you’re with me so we can hopefully alleviate both.”

An hour later, Cady sat on the floor giggling. Keith had recently run in and out of the room, chattering about something that neither of the drunken two understood. Pete had not yet been seen and Cady had resigned herself to passing out in John’s bed sometime that night; at least it was safe to do so.

Sloshing whiskey into her glass once more, no longer caring about ice, John sat on the floor beside her, “I want to ask you something.”

She turned to him, wavering slightly, “Okay.”

“Did you sleep with Jimmy Page?”

She gasped, “No!”

“You swear?”

“Well… I slept with him, yes. On his sofa in the living room. But we didn’t have sex,” she responded. “James was a perfect gentleman.”

His brows went up at her calling Jimmy by his given name, “Did you kiss him?”

Her eyes went to his and she slowly began to shake her head before it turned into a nod.

“Did you like it?”

Cady looked away and downed the rest of her drink, “You sound like a fucking girl.”

John raised his voice, “Did you like it?”

She broke into giggles again and shoved his shoulder. He repeated the question in his false voice. She attempted to push him again, but missed and fell into his lap. Rather than move, Cady rolled over, her head cradled in John’s lap. Setting down what was left of his drink, he gently stroked her hair, causing her eyes to flutter close. Watching her doze off, he smiled. With little thought, his arms slipped under her and he got to his feet. Not certain how to get her back to Pete’s bed, John laid her upon his own. Dragging a chair to the end of the bed, he took up sentry, protecting Pete’s girlfriend from the whirlwind of Keith.

The drummer stumbled into the room and collapsed into his own bed, not even glancing at John or Cady. Relaxing, John began to doze in the chair, not bothering to get up and close the door. Sleep had nearly embraced him when Pete stomped into the room.

“John! I can’t find Cady!” he claimed.

The bassist stirred, “Huh?”

“My girlfriend. Where’s Cady?” Pete asked, worry filling his voice.

John gestured at his bed. Seeing Cady curled up on her side, her back to the door and to Keith’s bed, Pete sighed in relief. Sitting down, he reached for her face, his fingers brushing across her forehead. She did not stir at all.

“How much did you drink?”

John glanced at the nearby bottle, “All of it. She kept up with me for the most part.

Pete shook his head, “Help me get her back to my room.”

Reaching the room across the hall a few minutes later, John paused before Pete headed in, “She didn’t sleep with Jimmy Page by the way.”

Staring at his best mate for a moment, he carried his girlfriend to their bed. After quickly locking the door, he stripped off his clothes and pulled of her jeans. Pete slipped into the bed behind her, his arms wrapping loosely around her. He kissed her shoulder, causing her to stir slightly.

“Sorry I was so late,” he muttered. “It won’t happen again.”

“Iloveyou,” she muttered drunkenly.

“I love you too, baby.”



Waking with her head pounding, Cady groaned. Pete instantly jumped to her side, offering tea and aspirin. Slowly sitting up she accepted both, smiling weakly at him. He swept away the teacup a moment later, crawled back into bed next to her, and kissed her sweetly. She groaned again but leaned into his embrace.

He kissed her temple again, “I’m sorry I was so late last night, sweetheart. After the interview, Kit and Chris and I got to talking about the new album and before I knew it…”

“Don’t talk so loud,” she breathed.

He squeezed her tightly before whispering, “Sorry, baby. Try and get a bit more rest, okay? The first show is in two hours.”

Nodding Cady lay back down and closed her eyes. Being as quiet as possible, Pete gathered up what he needed for the show and slipped out of the room. Seeing Keith barreling down the hall again, Pete stuck out his foot, causing the drummer to trip and skid down the carpeted hallway. Both men broke into laughter. Keith pushed back up and returned to his sprinting. Shaking his head, Pete continued towards Roger’s room.

Knocking, he was not the least bit surprised to find a to nude woman answering. Stepping around her, he tossed the setlist at the singer as he buttoned his pants.

“What’s this? Ya made a new setlist?” Roger asked, glancing at it.

“We’re playing two shows. You know that. But they’re short. So I split the setlist into two. Unless you want to just sing the same three songs twice,” he explained, glancing at the woman dressing.

“Sans Fairy Ann singin’ carpet or singin’ Tom mix. I daan't 'eaven and 'ell care,” Roger responded. “Stop lookin’ at ‘er.”

“Like you don’t look at Cady,” he retorted.

“She’s a pretty Gooseberry Puddin’, but too stuck up for me. Besides I ain’t Pearly Queen ‘er naked... yet,” he smirked, before adding, “I daan’t want your bird.”

Pete shook his head, “Then if you’re fine with this setlist, I’ll go tell John and Keith.”

“Did not John and Cady spend... nickle and dime together last night?”

“Not in the way you and her,” he motioned to the nearly dressed woman, “did. Lay off it, Roge.”

Knocking on Keith and John’s door a moment later, Pete slipped into his best mate’s room. The bassist stepped out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He nodded and ducked back into the bathroom. Returning a moment later, he offered Pete a drink, his eyes glancing over the setlist left on the dresser.

“Looks good, mate.”

“You didn’t sleep with Cady, right?” Pete asked.

Handing him a drink, John looked directly into his eyes, “No. I was exactly as you found me when you came for her. There was no sex at all. Cady loves you, Pete.”

“You said last night she didn’t sleep with Page,” he took a drink. “How do you know?”

“She told me when she was drunk,” he shrugged. “So it has to be the truth. Not that I ever thought she was lying to begin with.”

He nodded, “I should trust her. I do trust her, but…”

“Don’t worry about Jimmy. He might be smooth, but he’s not so smooth that he can override how she feels about you,” John declared. “She’s yours, mate.”

He nodded again, “I don’t know why I worry so much…”

“Because she’s a beautiful, intelligent, and charismatic woman and probably too good for your sorry arse?” he teased.

“Exactly that,” Pete finished the drink in his hand. “I don’t get why she would choose me over Jimmy Page or even Jimi Hendrix. And what the fuck is up with all these Jimmies?”

John laughed, “She chose you over the Jimmies because she loves you. Stop beating yourself up about it and enjoy what you have. Some of us aren’t so lucky.”

He looked at his friend for a long moment, “But you just married Alison.”

He shrugged, “Ehhhh…”

“You regret it?”

“Let’s just say, I’m glad to be on the road – without her.”



Holding her hand over her nose, Cady peered around the stage at the small crowd gathered for the show. The moment Pete told her where they were playing she made a mental note to talk to whomever booked their shows. Arriving at the Calgary Stampede Corral, Cady bit her lip to keep from laughing. She was ever so glad when they slipped in that her hangover was completely gone. The smell from the cow dung likely would have caused her to retch immediately.

Pete moved to her side, kissing her cheek, “What a way to start a tour, eh?”

Cady shook her head, still covering her nose, “I suppose you would get used to it after awhile…”

He chuckled, “It’s a short set. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

She nodded, “And I’m sure you’ll leave quite the impression.”

“We hope to.”

A few minutes later, the band was informed it was nearly their turn to take the stage. Taking his guitar from his tech, Cady looped the strap over Pete’s head and kissed him softly. Grinning he bounded up the steps onto the stage. They blew through their short set quickly – as well as through their instruments. Shaking her head as she watched from the wings, Cady knew the guitar had a clean break, making it easier to fix before the next short show. She knew it was The Who’s signature at this point, but she wondered when Pete would tire of it.

Glancing to the small crowd, her smile grew. They all stood completely shocked. No doubt, they had come to see the far gentler Herman’s Hermits. Pairing The Who with Herman’s Hermits had been a very odd choice, but she thought some of the shocked faces had become fans instantly too. The second show would show if that were true or not.

Jumping off the stage, Pete found her quickly. His arms circled her waist and he kissed her, spinning her around. She giggled and wiggled out of his arms, looping hers with his. A moment later, John’s arm threaded with her other arm.

“Pretty good show,” Cady commented.

Pete grinned, “It was awesome. We have an hour until the next one. What shall we do?”

“Well…”

John stopped, making the couple stop as well, “Oh well, I don’t want to be a third wheel…”

“Oh come on, John,” Cady tugged. “We’re not going to go have sex. Let’s grab something to eat and a beer. We’ll save the sex until after the second show.”

“Well… I guess so,” he reluctantly agreed, though his eyes shined.

“If you’re lucky, Pete might let you join in on the second celebration,” she winked.

“No!” Pete interjected.

“Kidding, love,” Cady kissed his cheek quickly. “But he is joining us for dinner. So let’s go.”

The trio ate and drank beers quickly before walking back to the arena. Passing by groups of kids, Cady slowed her steps, causing the two men to accidentally abandon her. Noticing quickly, Pete whirled around to find her. Eyes meeting hers, his mouth opened to ask her why she slowed, but her finger pressed to her lips silenced him. Her lips quickly curved into a wide smile and she skipped to catch up with the two, slipping her arms into theirs instantly.

“What was that all about?” John asked.

“I was eavesdropping on those boys’ conversation,” she responded.

“That’s a bit creepy, Cade.”

“No no,” she shook her head. “They were talking about that opening band for the Hermits and trying to figure out how to get another ticket in the next twenty minutes.”

Pete stopped, “We can get them in. Let’s go back and–”

“No,” Cady tugged on him. “It’s better if they struggle some to get into the show, because they’ll talk to other people and word of mouth is good.”

“But–”

“Trust me, Pete,” she continued towards the venue. “Let’s go rope up Keith and see if your guitar got fixed yet.”



Dozing in Pete’s arms on the Herman’s Hermits’ plane, Cady shifted a bit closer to him. He smiled and adjusted his arm around her, yet kept on scribbling his lyrics. The tour had already taken them through the Pacific Northwest and had now turned towards Texas. After the initial concert in Calgary, the bands fell into a pattern. The Who played a forty-minute set, wowing the crowds into complete silence, and then returned to the hotel to celebrate. America was already beginning to talk about the explosive Who. And Cady could not be any happier.

Especially since Texas marked the beginning of a week break from the touring. Two weeks on the road with both bands was enough to drive any sane person crazy.

“I booked more time in Talentmasters once we’re done here in Texas,” Kit declared before sitting across from the couple.

Cady opened one eye and glanced at him before snuggling with Pete again.

“We have to get a single out. I know you’re working on an album and we can record some of that too,” he continued. “But we have to get a single out. Now.”

Pete sighed, “Fine. I’ve got something we can record as a single.”

“Great,” Kit smiled. “We’ll get that recorded and pressed and then you can finish up the album.”

“You mean start it,” he corrected, setting his pen down.

“Finish it. We need to get an album out if we’re going to–”

“We’ve only recorded a few demos for it, Kit. You know that,” Pete declared. “We are nowhere near album quality yet. I still have a lot of writing to do.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll leave you to that now.”

As soon as the manager left, Pete sighed, “Sometimes I just don’t get him.”

“Pete, you’re a commodity to him, not an art,” Cady muttered. “You take as long as you need for this album.”

He sighed, “I guess. I just…”

“I know, sweetie,” she stretched up and kissed his cheek. “You’ll get it all figured out and it will be wonderful. I’m certain of it.”

“But the band needs money, Cady.”

“And that’s why we’re on this mismatched tour,” she pointed out. “Stop worrying about the business and focus on the music.”

“But–”

“How do you feel about cowboy boots?” Cady interrupted. “I figure since we’re going to be in Texas for a couple of days, I should be able to find a pair of authentic cowboy boots.”

He fell completely silent, his attention focusing on her. His eyes looked over her face, noticing her pleased smile under her closed eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing when she brought up the shopping. With a smile, he shifted in his seat and kissed her.

“Mmm, I take it that means yes on the cowboy boots,” she teased.

“We’ll have to get you a horse to ride,” Pete responded softly.

“Oh I know what I’ll ride,” Cady declared

“WHAT!?” Keith interjected as he plopped down in the seat Kit had vacated. “PETE’S PECKER!?”

“Oh shove it, Keith,” her eyes went to his.

“OR HIS FACE!?”

“Bugger off, Keith,” Pete interjected, “before I–”

“Oh come on, Pete. I’m just having a little fun,” the drummer whined.

“Roger looks bored. Go have fun with him,” the guitarist responded.

Keith glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he noticed the singer had a girl in his lap, “Hold that thought, Cady. I’ll be right back.”

“I give him ten seconds before Roger hits him,” Pete commented.

Cady sat up straight to watch the scene unfold. They were a bit too far away on the plane to hear the conversation, but the response was clear. A scowl filled Roger’s face and a moment later, his fist filled Keith’s. The drummer fell backwards into the aisle, laughing. He laid there for a few minutes, giggling. Shaking her head, Cady leaned back into Pete’s arms. He chuckled and squeezed her briefly.

“Should’ve bet you on that,” he remarked.

“I’ll give you your winnings back at the hotel tonight anyways,” she winked.



Lying in Pete’s arms, her skin glimmering with a soft sheen from their lovemaking, Cady smiled. He slept deeply under her finally. She had worried he would never sleep that night, worrying over songs not yet written. Three orgasms did the trick and now his body relaxed, his mind shut down. Cady, on the other hand, was wide-awake. Kissing him once more, she carefully slipped out of the bed and found her robe. Pulling it tightly closed, she grabbed the room key and headed out into the hallway, afraid that turning on a light or the TV would wake Pete.

The hallway was empty of any of the members or roadies of The Who, something Cady found a bit surprising. However, roadies for the Hermits milled about, smoking and fondling girls. Narrowly evading reaching hands, she headed downstairs, hoping to find a newspaper or magazine in the lobby to distract herself with for a while. Waiting for the elevator, she pressed her back to the wall, her eyes focused down the hall to watch the roadies.

With a soft chime, the door to the elevator opened and Cady turned around to step in. Immediately she understood why The Who had been quiet on that floor: the band had apparently been out while she and Pete were otherwise occupied. Keith was the first to see her and to notice she was only in a robe. He jumped forward, his hands reaching for her. John’s hand darted out, grabbing Keith’s collar and snapping him back.

Calmly leaving the lift, he wrapped his arm around Cady and guided her back down the hallway. Stopping in front of Pete’s room, he held out his hand for the key. Cady shook her head.

“I can’t take you back to my room, Cade. Keith will come in or Pete will get upset. Come on,” he responded, glancing over his shoulder. “Hurry.”

Sighing she handed him the key, “Pete’s asleep.”

“Of course he is,” John responded, unlocked the door, and swept her inside a moment before Keith reached for her again.

Nudging her into the bathroom, he locked the door. Finding Pete’s vodka on the dresser and making sure the guitarist still slept, John stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Pouring the clear liquid into one of the bathroom glasses, he held it out to Cady as she sat on the counter. Flipping the toilet seat down, John sat and took a drink from the bottle.

“So… why were you wondering the hotel without anything on?” he asked casually.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she responded.

“Fair enough,” John replied. “But couldn’t you at least put some clothes on?”

“I… I suppose so,” she smirked, taking another drink.

“You’re a smart bird, Cade. And Keith is… well I’m just glad I was there,” he stated.

Noticing her glass was empty, John stood to refill it, just as the door opened. Seeing his bandmate in the bathroom with his girlfriend, Pete froze. He immediately saw red, not the glass of vodka in neither her hand nor the fact her back was nearly touching the mirror, keeping her too far from the edge of the counter for anything sexual at all.

“What the fuck is going on in here!?” he shouted.

John stepped back, his eyes meeting his best mate’s, “Nothing at all, Pete.”

“How did you get in here?” he demanded, still not realizing that John was fully clothed.

With a sigh, John quickly explained the situation, handing the bottle of vodka to Pete. The guitarist took a deep drink, barely listening to the story. His eyes focused on his girlfriend, waiting for her to confirm John’s story. She nodded once, holding his gaze.

Pete took a deep breath before returning his attention to John, “Thanks, mate. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

“No big deal. I’m sure it looked funny. I’ll leave you guys alone for now,” John stated. “And Cade, next time you can’t sleep, ring my room first.”

Watching the bassist leave, Cady sighed, “I’m sorry, Pete. I couldn’t sleep and–”

“It’s okay, baby,” he muttered, setting the vodka bottle down and turning to flip the toilet seat back up. “I just was… caught off guard. And I know you’re still adjusting to travelling with us. We’ll get a routine.”

She burst into giggles, drawing his eyes to her quickly, “You realize this is the first time you’ve peed in front of me?”

He looked down at the toilet and smirked, “No, I hadn’t realized that.”

She giggled again, “Well I think we just became more intimate, Pete.”

Flushing the toilet, he moved to wash his hands, “I guess we did.”

“I’m sorry about… I should’ve just…”

Pete kissed her quickly, “It’s okay. No harm done.”

She stared at him for a long minute before smiling crookedly, “You still have post-lovemaking high, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied coyly.

Her eyes glanced down, “My my my, Pete. Again?”