Title: Don’t Look Away: Chapter Six, Tea & Aspirin
Rating: R [nudity, language, drugs]

Summary: Pete & Cady recover after their eventful night. And Pete comes to a decision - sorta.





Waking with a tongue like lead and a pounding anvil in her head, Cady groaned and rolled over. She could not remember the last time she had felt this horrible, this hungover upon waking. What the hell had she done the night before, drank pure alcohol? Or had she licked the road? Fuck.

“Baby?” Pete softly breathed.

Cracking one eye open, Cady focused on the man hovering over her, “Pete?”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Do you want to try some food?”

“Ugh,” she rolled away from him. “I don’t want to try anything, including breathing.”

“How about aspirin and tea?”

“Pete, I just want to lay here and die peacefully,” she retorted.

He rolled out of bed. Completely disregarding her words, he entered the bathroom, searching out little pills to take the edge off her hangover. Figuring he would relieve himself before making tea, Pete washed his hands before opening up her medicine cabinet. His eyes landed on a small pink, plastic circle. Without a thought, he picked it up and clicked it open. Glancing over it, it suddenly dawned on him what he held in his hands and the pill case tumbled out of his hands into the sink. Pete’s eyes went wide as some of the pills fell out and swirled down the drain.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, trying to catch as many as possible.

Setting the case on the counter, he held up the few pills he had managed to save and realized there were different colored sections in the circle. He knew that had something to do with whatever it was the pills did, but it was no help at all. The pills in his fingers looked exactly the same, but there were empty places in both of the sections. Shoving the pills he rescued into the empty slots could drastically impact the effects or so he thought. He was fucked. How was he going to tell her? ‘Hey, baby, I was snooping in your medicine cabinet and I spilled some of your pills down the sink?’ He could just close the package and return it to where he found it and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

Snapping it close, he returned it to the shelf. His blue eyes remained focused on it for a long moment before he reached for the bottle of aspirin. He had to tell her. He just had to. She would figure it out anyways. He would tell her. But not until she felt better. That was more important for the time being.

Flicking off the bathroom light, he stepped out and headed over to the kitchen. Shifting through drawers and cupboards as quietly as possible, he pulled out a tea kettle and some tea, leaving the bottle of pills on the counter. Ever aware that he could not risk the teapot squealing when it was ready, Pete stood nearby, his eyes remaining fixated on the teapot. Removing it a moment before it would have squealed, he filled the single cup with hot water and dipped the tea ball into it. Letting it steep for a moment, he turned off the stove top and rummage through the kitchen a bit more, looking to see if there was anything worthy of helping Cady’s hangover. In all honesty though, something greasy would be best and he knew he was not about to attempt to cook such for her. That would mean getting her feeling a bit better and then get her down to that diner they ate at the day before.

With the cup of tea and the bottle of pills, he slowly headed back to the bed. Pete set the mug down on the bedside table and quickly shook a few pills out. Turning on the bed, he reached to Cady’s back, gently touching her. She grumbled but didn’t snap at him again. Slowly she rolled towards him and with some soft coaxing sat up in the bed. He instantly regretted not removing her dress before they passed out, knowing it could not have been all that comfortable to sleep in. However he said nothing and pressed the pills into her hand and reached for the cup.

After she had swallowed the pills and a few more mouthfuls of tea, Pete’s arms circled around his girlfriend. He kissed her forehead before she pressed fully into his embrace, sighing. Her fingers were still curled around the cup of tea, but she really wished to just throw it aside and curl up and die. She hated hangovers with a passion, normally she held her alcohol so well that she rarely got them. In fact she really could not figure out why she was in such pain.

“Pete?” she asked softly.

“Yes, baby.”

Her face pivoted up to look at his, “I don’t... I don’t remember drinking enough to feel so bad. Did something happen that I’m not remembering?”

“Baby, when I came back to sit with you after playing for awhile on stage, you had already drank two more drinks. I’m not even sure what,” he declared.

“Fuck, really?”

He nodded.

“No wonder I feel like shit. I deserve to,” Cady commented.

“No you don’t, baby. Not at all. I’ll help you feel better.”

Cradled in Pete’s arms, she sighed. It still made no difference. He could give her all the drugs and love in the world and she would still feel like crap. She was never, ever drinking again. Never.

“Babe, it would be a good idea if we ate something,” Pete declared.

“No. Never leaving bed,” she whined.

He kissed her forehead, “How about this: I’ll go down to the diner and pick something up for us?”

Cady shook her head, “Don’t leave me, Pete. We don’t need any food.”

“Yes, we do. I’m going to go and get us some. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. You just rest awhile longer and I’ll be back before you know it,” he decided and gently pulled away from her.

Though she did not care for it one bit, Cady laid back down. She knew he was right, that food would be very beneficial, but he didn’t need to leave food. They had plenty of food in the loft. She would just get up and co—

“Cady, what are you doing?” Pete asked as he closed the closet door, fully changed out of the previous night’s attire.

“I’ll just cook something. You don’t have to leave me,” she proclaimed, wavering on her feet.

“Lay right back down,” he instructed. “No wait. Let’s get that dress off of you first.”

“But Pete...”

“No buts,” he declared.

With her laying back down, he kissed her forehead and headed out of the loft. He wasn’t entirely sure where the diner was, but he knew he would find it. He just had to. And he needed to get some smokes too. They smoked them all last night; plus he was itching for something a bit different. Though as he walked down the street, Pete realized he hadn’t a clue where to get some weed in the city. In London he could think of a million places, depending on how much he wanted to spend. But in New York? No clue. And he really did not know how to gauge price and quality in the States. Of course quality mattered most depending on how one depended to ingest it. He could always buy some lower quality and... bake some brownies, not that he was really all that good at baking. But maybe Cady was; she seemed like a decent cook. He would just – oh, the diner. He had stumbled upon the diner.

Pushing the door open, Pete hardly had the chance to breathe before he was greeted. That was definitely a plus to the diner, probably one of the reasons Cady frequented it. And within moments, Marta approached him, looking him up and down.

“Where’s Cady?” she asked.

“Back home in bed. I want to bring her breakfast,” Pete declared.

Marta eyed him carefully, “At one o’clock in the afternoon?”

His eyes flicked to the clock, “Yes.”

She folded her arms over her chest, “Why?”

“Because we were out until dawn last night,” he responded.

Marta stared at him for a long moment, “Okay. Give me a few minutes to get her order in.”

“How do you—”

She turned and left before Pete could finish his question. He supposed if Cady was a regular, Marta did know what she would order. In fact when he thought about it, he realized Cady hadn’t spoken an order the other morning. It made sense, he just needed to wake up himself and actually use his brain. Pacing about the small waiting area, his blue eyes drifted over the small art hanging around, finding it very familiar. Stepping closer, Pete attempted to reconcile it with his memories, but nothing was quite connecting. Why did he...?

“Hasn’t Cady shown you her art before?” Marta asked, approaching Pete with paper bag.

“Uh,” his eyes went to hers, “just a portrait she did of me.”

She stopped, “She painted you?”

He nodded, slowly accepting the bag, “She did.”

“You hurry home and take care of her,” Marta instructed.

“How much do I owe you?” Pete balanced the paper bag and reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“Nothing. Cady loves you. That’s enough for me,” she stated and turned away before Pete could argue with her.

Standing there for a minute, he shook his head and headed out of the diner. Taking a breath, he glanced both directions before deciding which way the loft was. As Pete walked down the street, his blue eyes kept darting for the tell-tale signs of something that would indicate he could buy some herb from someone. Dealers could not be that much different in New York than London. And then he saw him. Pete didn’t even have to speak to the man to know he was just the type he was looking for.

With a few short words, he emptied out his wallet and discreetly tucked a small bag into his pocket. Making note of the man’s location for further purchases, Pete returned to his journey back home to his girlfriend. He really didn’t know the quality of the stuff in his pocket, but he also didn’t have the materials to roll either. Seemed he would have to bake regardless. And fuck, he couldn’t even buy cigarettes now.

With a scowl on his face, he hardly realized he walked naturally back to the loft like a homing pigeon. He dug the keys out of his pocket, opened the gate and stepped the few steps between gate and front door. As he lumbered towards the elevator, Pete remembered he wanted to track down James and ask him a million questions. But feeding Cady as far more important. Hell, even figuring out how to consume his herbal purchase was more important. But he would track James down before long.

Slipping into the loft, his eyes instantly trained on his girlfriend’s naked back. Dropping her keys where she normally did, he headed into the kitchen to unpack the food. She stirred as he clanged about before heading towards the bed with breakfast. Pete’s eyes dropped to her bared breasts as she sat up and he instantly chided himself internally for allowing that kind of focus.

“I have breakfast,” he smiled.

“Oh Pete,” she muttered before he set the makeshift tray on her lap, “you’re too good to me.”

“Not in the least,” Pete kissed her forehead. “Do you want more tea? Or maybe something stronger?”

Her eyes held his, “I don’t need more booze, Pete. I am never drinking again.”

“I was thinking coffee,” he responded.

“Oh. No, tea would be fine.”

Kissing her forehead again, he headed back into the kitchen. Setting the tea kettle back on the stove with more water, he bustled about the kitchen, wiping up his earlier mess and preparing to make another. Without much thought at all, he removed the small bag from his pocket and set it on the counter, half-wondering how he would prepare it. Smoking really was his preference, it hit him better. But he had no more money for – fuck, anything. How was he going to —

“Pete?” Cady’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned to her but before he could head over to the bed, the tea kettle shrilly whistled. Turning back to the stove to quickly remove the pot, Pete flinched slightly, just knowing the whistle had likely caused great pain to his lover. He filled a new mug with the hot water, dropped a fresh tea ball in it, and briefly considered if he wanted tea himself. A moment later he headed towards the bed with two cups of tea. Leaving the cups on the bedside tables for a minute, Pete sat on the bed and shifted close to Cady. His arm looped happily behind her and she turned, offering him a bite of breakfast.

“Did Marta give you a hard time?” she asked as he chewed.

Pete shook his head, “Not any more than to be expected. I think she was just happy I was taking care of you.”

Cady quickly kissed him before offering him another bite, “I’m happy you’re taking care of me. I certainly don’t deserve it.”

“Of course you do,” he retorted and reached for one of the mugs. “There is absolutely no reason you should feel bad, baby.”

“Yes, there is,” she argued but drank from the offered cup before turning back to the food.

“No, there’s not. And don’t argue with me,” Pete stated before taking the cup back.

She watched him drink and set the cup down, “I think maybe a shower after we’re done eating would be good.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he responded and caressed her cheek.

“I want you to shower with me,” Cady said, her eyes holding his.

He smiled crookedly, “But you wouldn’t let me last night.”

“Because last night we had places to go. Now we... oh wait, we do have some place we need to be.”

“We do? Where? When?”

“The last place we were at. The owner wants me to bring you in to talk to him,” Cady explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Pete. We should just be thankful that I remember,” she responded, handing him the plate, shifting towards the edge of the bed. “Did you fight with Jimi last night?”

Suddenly seeing all of her nude body as she stood up, Pete’s mind went completely blank. He knew she had asked something, was expecting him to respond, but honestly he had no clue how to speak. Why her nude body had completely thrown him off, he was uncertain. But he suddenly wanted her, needed her, it was the all-consuming thought in his mind.

“Pete?” she repeated his name as she headed towards the bathroom. “Did you fight with Jimi last night?”

Shaking his head free of the indecent thoughts, his blue eyes looked down at the plate as he replied, “Yeah.”

Cady stopped halfway to the bathroom and returned to him. Hands surrounding his face, she tilted his mouth up to receive hers. He quickly set the food aside on the bed so that his hands could circle her naked body. She pulled out of the kiss before he could embrace her however. Saying nothing she headed into the bathroom. As she did not close the door, Pete could easily tell what she was doing, not that he wanted to be a pervert and watch her pee. Luckily the toilet was out of his sight but as she washed her hands a sudden shot of fear lightninged up his spine. Her fingers reached for the medicine cabinet.

Pete quickly got to his feet and hurried towards the bathroom as she pulled out the very pill case he had dropped not too long before, “Cady, I...”

She clicked it open, her blue eyes going to the circles of pills, and she frowned, “It’s all messed up.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I was getting you aspirin and I knocked that into the sink and—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, glancing at him. “Accidents happen. I’ll just call my doctor to get a new prescription. No need to worry.”

He watched her pluck out a pill and stick it on her tongue, “Are you sure? I don’t want to be the one who ruined... things.”

Cady touched his cheek briefly before filling up a cup with water and washing down the pill, “It’s okay, Pete. These things happen. It doesn’t effect us immediately. We can still have sex just as we have been.”

Staring at her silently, his mouth dropped open and he blinked harshly, “Cady, I... I...”

“Let’s finish breakfast so we can shower,” she stepped around him.



While Cady had asked him to join her once more, after her discovery of the pills, Pete just could not bring himself to slip into the shower with her. He made up some excuse of needing to clean up the loft before they went anywhere and closed the door between them. His hand remained on the door knob for a long moment, waiting until he heard the sound of running water inside. Once satisfied that she would not attempt to tempt him once more, he did set to cleaning up, not that there really was much to do. As he emptied out the rest of the water in the tea kettle, his eyes flicked to the bag of marijuana. He could certainly use something to take the edge off his wildly running mind. But he couldn’t do anything with it without ... money. He fucking needed money again.

Heading over to the telephone, Pete was glad to find the American office’s number still scrawled on the pad by the phone. His fingers quickly danced on the digits and he leaned against the small table as the phone rang. He really had no reason to believe the office would be any more helpful than they had been before, but he had to try. Not even just so he could smoke a joint, but most importantly so he could take care of Cady. Though if they said no, he would just return the guitar. Plain and simple.

“Yes, hello,” Pete greeted once a voice picked up. “My name is Pete Townshend and I play with The Who. I was wondering if—”

“One moment, Mr. Townshend. We’ve been expecting your call.”

Confused, he agreed to the hold. After a few long seconds, a familiar voice came on the line. Within a few minutes Pete was regretting the fact he had attempted to call the American office to ask for money. While they had agreed to give him some money, or at least his manager had, he did not like the terms he was cornered into. Not in the least. But he had no choice. Breaking it to Cady was going to be the issue.

As that thought crossed his mind, Pete hung up the phone. His eyes flicked to the door, trying to find the words he was going to speak to her. Unwilled the door opened, a soft burst of steam rolling out. A moment later, Cady stepped out, her long dark hair hanging wet about her shoulders, a towel clutched to her chest. While he was already stumbling for words, Pete was completely speechless. She was so naturally beautiful, he did not understand at all how he deserved her. In fact he did not deserve her and that was precisely why he needed to tell her what his manager told him.

“Pete?” she muttered.

“Baby... Cady...” he uttered. “I ... my god you’re beautiful.”

She smiled and quickly released her towel, letting it fall to the hardwood floor. His eyes quickly scanned her body and he swallowed audibly. He looked into her eyes for a few breaths, trying to calm himself, before he let his gaze slowly wander her body. She wasbeautiful. From the swell of her breasts to the soft curve of her hips to her clearly carefully manicured pubic hair, she was immaculate. And she was all his. No he did not deserve her at all.

“Cady,” he breathed and stumbled forward.

Her hands caught his, her fingers weaving with his, and she met his mouth in a quick passionate kiss. Though his lips danced happily with hers, Pete did not linger in the kiss for long, forcing himself out of it. He couldn’t get wrapped up in her beauty, in her sensuality. He couldn’t. He had something he needed to tell her.

“Cady, I love you,” Pete muttered.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her quickly, “I love you, but... but...”

Her brows furrowed, “But what?”

“I don’t deser—”

“Bullshit, Pete. If I thought that for even a second I would not be standing in front of you naked right now. You most certainly would not be welcome in my home if you were unworthy. So stop it with that,” she refuted. “What brought that on?”

He sighed, “I... I don’t have any money left. And I can’t get any more. I—”

“Pete,” she released his hands to frame his face, making certain his eyes remained level with hers, “do not go back to the money thing. My love for you is not determined by what is or is not in your wallet. I care far more what is in your head and heart and soul. I care far more about who you are, not how much you’re worth.”

“But, Cady, last night I felt like I was—”

Her mouth cut his off with a quick kiss, “I love you, Pete. Not your wallet.”

“Cady.... I can’t live off of you. I just can’t.”

“This isn’t forever. This is just for now.”

“I called the office, to ask for money. And they won’t give me any, unless... unless I go back to England. And put out a single with the band,” he blurted out quickly.

Her eyes held his and she quickly broke into an easy smile, “Then we’ll go to England, Pete. Simple as that.”

“But – wait, we’ll go?”

“Of course, sweetie. I don’t have any need to stay here. I’ll go back to England with you. Unless of course you don’t want me to,” Cady responded.

“Yes! Yes, of course I do. I just didn’t think you would want to come with me,” Pete replied. “I mean I have nothing to offer you at all. I don’t even... fuck, my things are still at Karen’s.”

She kissed him quickly before her hands dropped from his face, “Then we had better hurry to London to retrieve them. I’ll call and make the flight arrangements.”

“No, Cady,” he reached for her arm as she stepped away from him, pulling her quickly back to him, “let me... let me do that. Please.”

Though she did not understand how he would book airfare for the two of them without money, she nodded, “I’ll get dressed while you do that then. We’re going to have to go pick up a suitcase or two and a case for your guitar. Oh and you’re out of cigarettes, aren’t you?”

“I... well yes, but you’re not buying me cigarettes. I don’t need to smoke. In fact after that horrible fucking trip, I’m not sure I want to,” Pete claimed.

“Well in the very least we should get some papers for the weed,” Cady pulled away, heading to the closet.

His eyes went wide, “H-how... how did you...?”

“You left it on the counter, Pete,” she pointed out. “It’s okay. Really.”

“I... I...”

“Make your phone call, Pete. So we can get going.”



With a jazz record playing and Cady hidden in the closet deciding what to pack, Pete stood in the kitchen. His eyes were focused on the bag of pot, regretting his decision to purchase it instead of something for Cady. And yet when she bought papers at a store on the edge of Greenwich and SoHo, she seemed not only at ease with the whole act, but knowledgeable. She really did not strike him as one who did drugs, mainly because she had said herself before that she wasn’t into them any more. Ah, any more. Something must have happened on some trip or something to make her stop. He had a very bad trip; he should stop. He didn’t need LSD or pills or grass or even fucking tobacco to have a good time around Cady. She gave him a natural high just by being who she was, for loving him. He didn’t need the drugs.

Deciding this simply, he snatched the bag and papers from the counter. Part of him simply wanted to throw it out, flush it down the toilet, something of that nature. But then he realized if he went and sold it to some geezer on the street, he would have some pocket money to do something smart with.

“Babe, I’ll be right back,” he called to her over the music.

Cady stuck her head out of the closet, “Where are you going, Pete?”

“I just have to do something. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he responded.

“Okay. Don’t forget to take my keys,” she disappeared back into the closet.

A few minutes later, Pete wandered the streets, looking for someone to buy his stash off of him. He really had no idea how to be the person on the other side of the deal. But it could not be that difficult. Someone had to be looking just like he had been earlier that day. But he supposed he should be careful. He could not get arrested in New York the day before returning to London. Within a block he had a buyer and the transaction was complete. He had even made a bit more than he paid, something that made him feel a bit more confident than he had in awhile.

But he was not going to just put the cash in his wallet and go back home to help his girlfriend pack. She had been so very good to him the past few... well if he really thought of it, Pete would say months because memories of their shared kisses kept him afloat. He was going to stop some place and buy Cady something special, something to remind her of him whenever she saw it. Which meant flowers were not the thing, as they would wilt and dry out.

Heading into a small artsy boutique, Pete wandered about looking at the variety of wares. He fingered leather-bound journals and handmade glass wind chimes sing, but nothing had really struck a chord with him. Shopping for Karen had been simple and he didn’t really love her like he loved Cady. Why was this more difficult? Cady was his – oh. That was it. His fingers reached for a silver bangle on the counter. Choosing the widest one, his blue eyes inspected it carefully as he turned it over in his hand. On the interior of the bracelet, words had been etched into the reflective metal. Pete smiled, glanced at the price tag, and headed up to the cash register. It was perfect, absolutely perfect.

Nearly skipping down the street, he returned to the loft, a bit surprised that he found it so easy to find his way home now. He nodded to a random person in the building he had never seen before heading up in the elevator. As the lift shuddered to a stop at Cady’s floor, Pete wondered who the person had been but brushed it aside. James had said four of them lived in the building, surely the other man was one of those four. Wait. Did that mean Cady was the only woman living in the building? How was that a good idea? He would have to – forget about it. He was about to take her across the ocean, no need to worry about other men in her building.

Letting himself into her loft, Pete took two steps into the large room and dropped the keys. Cady was dancing about the room very suggestively. It hardly mattered she was fully dressed; he only saw the curves of her body. He had once more lost control of his faculties. Dammit, his girlfriend was... looking directly at him.

“Cady,” he breathed.

She skipped over to him, but said nothing. Rather than kiss or embrace him, she bent over and picked up the dropped keys, depositing them in the basket where they belonged. She moved around him and nudged him out of the way to properly close the door, locking it as well. Still she said nothing, did not touch him, and it was driving Pete insane.

“Cady,” he repeated.

Her eyes went to his and she smiled, “Where did you go?”

“I had to... do some shopping,” Pete claimed.

“Oh? I thought you were out of money.”

“I sold some stuff first,” he explained.

Her eyes darted to the kitchen counter, “Ah. So what did you buy?”

Pete reached into his pocket, his fingers tracing over the engraving quickly, “Something for you.”

“For me? Why?”

“Because you deserve it,” he pulled his fist out of his pocket, presenting it to her.

Looking at his closed hand, Cady’s eyes clouded in confusion. She reached up, her palm facing the ceiling, figuring he would drop whatever it was into her hand. Instead his other hand reached for hers and turned it over. He then slipped the silver bangle over her fingers.

“Oh, Pete,” Cady muttered. “Baby, this is... beautiful.”

He grinned, leaned forward and kissed her lips quickly, “You like it?”

“Oh very much,” she nodded, sparkling eyes going to his. “No one has ever given me anything this beautiful before. Thank you, Pete.”

While he wanted to tell her what was imprinted against her skin, he also wanted her to discover it herself. So rather than saying anything, Pete’s arms slipped around her, pulling her into a gentle embrace. Their lips met again, though not nearly as long as he would have liked. She pulled out of the kiss and leaned towards his ear. Her teeth nibbled gently on his ear, turning his blood up a few more degrees closer to boiling.

“Dance with me, Pete,” she whispered. “Help me feel the music.”

They danced about the room until the record ended. Cady kissed Pete sweetly, not allowing it to deepen at all, and pulled away. Before his arms could loop back around her, she skipped over to the record player and switched out the album. Pete headed towards her to see what she was putting on the stereo. A few steps away he recognized the opening notes of “Don’t Look Away.” She was playing his music and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. However Cady did not let the song play through but rather picked up the needle and skipped ahead to a different song.

“You should write more things like this,” Cady proclaimed, turning from the turn table as “A Quick One” began to play.

“Why?”

“Because its genius, Pete,” she stated, her arms circling him.

“I.. well okay.”

Her lips touched his, “You are a genius, Pete.”

“I... Cady, how can you even say that? What have I even done for you to think that?”

“I’ve heard your records, Pete. I’ve seen you perform more times than you know. You are a genius,” she declared and kissed him again.

“I...”

“Oh just stop it and kiss me,” she instructed. “That will help you believe me.”

“Oh I’m not so sure about that,” Pete replied, his hands resting on her hips.

“Try it.”

“Nah,” he responded, trying to pull away from her.

Cady frowned, “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“I don’t.”

Before she could say anything in response, Pete’s hands slipped up to her waist and he lifted her from the floor. Her arms tightened around his neck as he quickly carried her the few feet to the bed. He practically tossed her on the bed. She giggled and tried to crawl away as he stalked her across the bed. Tackling her face down onto the mattress, Pete pushed her hair to the side and fastened his lips to her flesh. Cady groaned as he suckled and nipped at her skin, leaving a mark that would likely last more than a couple of hours.

“Pete,” she moaned.

He pushed up from her enough to allow her to turn over. Cady did not comply. Chuckling, he leaned back down to nip at her neck. She wiggled beneath him, rubbing her ass against his crotch. Before long, he groaned himself and pulled away from her, rolling onto his back. Cady however remained where she was, only pivoted her face towards his.

A large smile lit up her face, “This is my favorite part of the song.”

Pete closed his eyes to focus on the music for a moment, “Why?”

“Because it cracks me up that you guys sing ‘cello cello cello,’” she responded.

He laughed, “That’s because Kit thought we should have a real orchestra but of course we couldn’t afford it.”

“Yes, well I still love it,” Cady claimed. “Would you forgive me if you came home from tour and found me sitting in an engine driver’s lap?”

His eyes turned serious, “I believe I would kill him first.”

“Really, Pete?”

“I already saw red when Jimi was forcing his tongue down your throat. It would be much worse if I found you fucking someone,” he stated.

She reached over and touched his cheek gently, “Not that I think it would happen, but perhaps I should just tour with you so there is no chance of me falling to the wiles of a dirty old engine driver.”

“I don’t want to tour any more. I hate touring. I just want to stay home with you. Spending my days making love with you is far better than any fucking tour,” Pete said.

Her hand left his face, dropping to his chest, “Pete, you can’t not tour. The Who is best at touring.”

“I don’t fucking care. I don’t want to do it any more.”

She shifted over and kissed his mouth gently, “Whatever you decide is what we’ll do, but know this: wherever you go in this world, I will go too.”