Title: Midnight Shift: Chapter Seven, Golden Couple
Rating: NC-17 [language, alcohol, and sex]

Summary: All those late nights catches up with Summer. 





Even though her body had expelled the alcohol before it permeated her system, Summer felt like shit the following afternoon upon waking. Groaning from the filtered light streaming into the room, she turned over on her side, clutching the fluffy pillow. She couldn’t feel Robert’s presence at all, but at the moment didn’t care. All she wanted was the pain to go away. Her head pounded, her tongue felt like sandpaper. Even her toes didn’t seem to agree with her at all. She was never, ever drinking again.

“Baby?” his soft voice muttered as he entered the room.

“Go away,” she groaned.

Robert sat on the edge of bed, reaching up and brushing her hair from her face, “Are you okay, baby?”

“Go away,” she repeated, turning her head over.

His fingers lightly ran through her disheveled locks, untangled the honey-colored curls. Though she had asked him to leave twice, the fact she hadn’t pulled away meant to him that she wasn’t all that serious. Gently he caressed her back, wondering if he did whatever it was that was wrong with her. He shouldn’t have—

“Robert?” she muttered, turning over so his hand trailed over her abdomen.

“Yes, baby?”

“Is this what it feels like?”

“Like what feels like?”

She scrunched her nose, “I don’t know. Hungover maybe? Or maybe sick? I just feel... sore all over and like... it takes too much energy to move at all.”

“You’ve never been sick?”

“Certainly never felt like this,” Summer proclaimed, covering her eyes with her hand.

“Well, baby, I would find it weird for you to be hungover since you pretty much didn’t ingest much for very long,” Robert commented, his hand leaving her abdomen to touch her forehead. “Oh no.”

“What?” she asked.

“Baby, I think... I think I got you sick.”

“Huh?”

“Your forehead is warm, surely you have a fever. And I... the reason I was back at the hotel then night we met is because I was sick,” he declared. “I must have... fuck. Let me call the doctor over.”

“No no. I’ll be fine. Just...”

He felt her forehead crinkle with her thoughts. Removing his hand he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Without another word, Robert stood and left the room to call the doctor. He certainly felt horrible for getting her sick and he was certain it was him. No one else she had been around lately had been sick but him. Three days to fall in love and three days to get her sick. It was his fault and he was going to spend every minute making her feel better. Whatever it took.



Sitting out in the living room while Summer slept in their bedroom, Robert paged through a book. To be honest he hadn’t been able to read any of it. The words blurred and swirled and he hadn’t smoked a thing. He knew it had more to do with worry for her than anything. The doctor had been rushed over, visited with the young girl, and hurried out. Very little had been said to the singer, probably because the doctor was still sore from Robert’s treatment of him while he was sick a week before. Regardless every sound from the bedroom raised alarm in his soul, whether or not it actually meant anything. Not once could he recall feeling this way when one of his girlfriends took ill, not even when Maureen did. What did that mean about Summer? That she meant more than his wife? Or that he was overprotective? It bothered him so much he couldn’t read a single chapter of his book, whatever book it was. Oh, wait, he wasn’t even holding it right side up. That was not helpful at all.

Sighing, he closed the upside-down book and stood up. Approaching the bedroom door quietly, he leaned towards it. Holding his breath, he strained his ear to listen to her breathing. It was soft and steady, almost like a whispered sigh. It didn’t alarm him in any way, actually was far more relieving than anything. His poor angel. And it was all his fault she was all tucked into the bed, probably shivering from her fever. Body heat would help; he was certain of that.

Cracking the door open, Robert peered in. Summer lay curled up on her side, clutching the extra pillow to her stomach. It tore at his heart to know that he did that to her. While he knew it was unintentional, something that just happened, he couldn’t stop the pangs of guilt touching his soul. Slowly he pulled the door open enough to slip in, his eyes flicking to the drawn curtains. He tiptoed over to the bed, tentatively sitting on the edge. She didn’t stir at all from his weight sinking the bed and that honestly concerned him.

His hand trembled some when he reached for her forehead. Her shallow breath lifted her hair slightly from her face. Robert brushed that very curl away and leaned down to kiss her nose. Her eyes cracked open at that, though barely bigger than a squint. Without a word, he crawled into the bed beside her, his arm draped over her waist. Her body began to tremble as he shifted closer to him.

“Robert?” Summer muttered, teeth chattering.

He held the blanket closer to her, hoping his added body heat would help, “Yes, baby?”

“I’m s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold,” she declared.

His lips brushed her heated forehead, “I know, baby. It will pass. I promise.”

“Is th-this-s f-from the f-food y-yesterday? Or the b-booze?”

“No, Summer, my sweet. It is my fault. I was ill with the flu when we met. I must have been contagious still.”

“F-flu? Does th-that m-mean I’m g-gonna d-die?”

“No!” he practically gasped. “Why would you ever think such a thing? I didn’t die and you’re healthier than me.”

“But-t-t all th-those p-people d-died of it in 1918.”

Robert chuckled and kissed her forehead again, “You’re going to be just fine, sweetie. I promise you.”

“I b-believe,” she snuggled closer to him. “Just don’t let me f-freeze to death.”



With Summer sleeping fitfully once more, the blankets tossed from her naked body in a proclamation of burning up, Robert retreated to the living room once more. His eyes flicked to the clock, wondering when Benji would stop by with food. He knew he needed to get Summer to eat something when she took the pills left behind by the doctor, but he also knew the meager contents of the small kitchen would amount to nothing. He sent a message with the doctor to contact Benji about the issue, even called the hotel. But it had been two hours and still no assistant. Summer was in need. Where was his blasted assistant?

As he stalked over to the phone to ring his assistant once again, a knock sounded at the door. Instant relief filled him. Finally food had arrived. Heading to the door instead, Robert pulled it open without a moment’s pause. His mouth nearly dropped open.

“You’re not Benji.”

“Nope,” John Paul replied, thrusting a paper bag into Robert’s arms. “He had some things to take care of. Besides I figured you would have no idea how to take care of a sick girl. And Summer is not... a traditional girl.”

“What does that mean?” he headed into the kitchen with the bassist close behind.

“You’re in love with a hippie chick, Robert,” he declared. “So I brought some alternative therapy items my friends suggested.”

He looked into the bag, “There’s no food in here. Just... herbs or something.”

John Paul smirked, “Yeah, well, I wasn’t in charge of food.”

“Who was?”

The front door burst open, the rest of the band entering. Bonzo was instantly shushed by Jimmy, both carrying grocery bags. For a moment Robert stood there in disbelief. His band was rallying around his girlfriend? That was unheard of. He understood Summer was different, was special, but never had he expected anything like this. Bonzo’s presence was a bit disconcerting. After all Summer needed her rest and Robert was certain the drummer would not leave her alone. Regardless they were there and there was little Robert could do about it.

“Is she sleeping?” Bonzo asked.

“Yes. And you are not going to go see her.”

“Bollocks, Percy. I wasn’t going to go wake her up,” Bonzo shook his head.

The shrill whistle of a tea kettle in the kitchen punctuated Robert’s possible answer. Shrugging it off, he returned to the kitchen to see what John Paul was brewing. Stopping in the entrance, blocking Bonzo from entering as well, Robert peered in. Jimmy moved about the small kitchen, unloading his groceries. For a long moment, Robert felt like it was completely domestic, that the glare of stardom had disappeared. He had always been drawn to Summer because she was so real, seemingly she was drawing that out of everyone else.

“What are you brewing, Jonesy?” he asked.

“It’s supposed to help draw the flu out of her,” he declared, bobbing the tea ball in the cup.

“Huh. So explain to me why you guys rushed to come take care of my girlfriend but when I was sick you left me to—”

“Stop your whining, Percy,” Bonzo picked him up and turned around, making room for to enter the kitchen himself.

“I’m going to take this in to her,” John Paul declared, heading from the small room.

“No!” Robert interjected. “I will.”

“Someone needs to supervise Bonzo. I’ll do it,” he insisted.

“But—”

“She’s naked, isn’t she?”

The singer’s mouth dropped open, “How did you...?”

“It’s okay, Percy. I’ve seen naked girls before,” John Paul claimed, nudging Robert aside. “I’m not going to jump her. Promise.”

Had those words come from Bonzo’s mouth he would have clobbered him. But there was something safer about John Paul. Nodding Robert stepped to the side, his hand darting out to prevent Bonzo from following.

Presuming the only closed door lead to the bedroom, John Paul balanced the tea tray and opened it. He stepped into the darkened room, hearing Summer’s labored breathing. Pausing long enough to get his bearings, he shuffled over to the bed. In the darkness he could barely ascertain her milky white form sprawled across the bed. Setting the tray down, he covered her with a sheet and turned to the window. Pulling the curtain aside, John Paul opened the window, deciding the fresh, salty air would do the young girl good. She stirred as he sat on the bed, crusted eyes barely opening.

“Robert?” her voice cracked.

“No. He’s outside restraining Bonzo,” John Paul proclaimed.

“Jonesy?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he replied, his fingers brushing her forehead. “I brought you some tea to make you feel better. Think you can sit up?”

“Maybe.”

John Paul’s hand slipped under her shoulders. Helping her sit up, he moved the pillows to support her back, paying little attention that her little breasts were once again exposed. Dutifully he tucked the sheet around her chest, just in case Robert wandered in and not wanting to raise his ire. She watched him carefully as he reached for the tea cup, sniffed it and nodded, and turned back to her.

“What is this?” she asked softly, accepting the tea cup.

“Tea to make you feel better,” he repeated, glancing at the open window. “Is the window all right? Or do you want me to close it again?”

Summer slowly lifted the cup and attempted to sniff it, “No, leave it open. I feel kinda... closed in.”

John Paul watched Summer sip the tea, making a slight face, “I’m sorry if it tastes horrible. I wasn’t sure if you take sugar or cream in your tea.”

“It is hotter than I expected. That’s all. Tastes... kinda like something I would find back home,” she responded.

“Where is home?”

Her blue eyes went to his, “A commune outside San Francisco.”

“Ah. Robert said you were from San Francisco. I should have suspected you were from outside the city after eating together yesterday,” John Paul stated. “I bet it’s a nice place.”

“It’s all I know,” she replied, sipping the tea again. “Where’s Robert?”

He frowned, knowing he had already told her that, “In the other room with Bonzo.”

“Bonzo’s here?”

“And Jimmy,” he nodded. “We all wanted to see how you are doing.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry. The others won’t come in and bug you. Robert and myself won’t let that happen. You just drink your tea and then get some more rest,” John Paul instructed.

She nodded, following instructions for a moment before asking, “Tell me a story, Jonesy.”

John Paul looked at her for a long time, watching her sip her tea. She wanted a story, likely about the band or Robert. He could tell her a number of things, but he also thought that she knew of them as well. Perhaps the best option was to test what kind of story she wanted.

“Do you know the story about the band’s first rehearsal?” he asked.

“No,” she responded honestly.

John Paul smiled, “You know that Percy and Bonzo aren’t from London like me and Pagey, right?”

Summer shook her head, still sipping tea.

“Well they’re not. They’re from an area we call the Midlands. I hadn’t met Percy but he knew I was a session player,” he began.

“What’s that?”

“Someone who plays in the studio on records. Not in a band,” John Paul answered.

“Oh, okay.”

“So Percy and Bonzo show up at the studio Pagey booked for us,” he continued. “I think Percy was expecting me to be some old fella with a long pipe.”

“I can certainly see that,” she smiled slightly before another sip.

“So we struggled with what to play. Pagey suggested a Yardbirds song I didn’t know but the other two did. He showed me my part and then we started to play,” John Paul smiled warmly and reached for her teacup. “I cannot describe the chemistry in that room. Everything felt right.”

“Like how when you’re on stage now?” she asked, wiggling down in the bed.

“Exactly how it is now,” he nodded. “How do you feel?”

“Sore. Cold,” she responded. “Sleepy.”

John Paul instantly pulled the blankets up around her, “I’ll let you sleep then. We need to get you healthy by the time it’s your birthday.”

“Why?” she pulled the blankets close.

His fingers touched her forehead, “Just sleep, Summer.”

“Will you... will you send in Robert?”

“Of course,” John Paul responded, stood, and picked up her teacup.

As soon as the bassist stepped from the room and the door closed, Robert jumped up. Even Bonzo and Jimmy snapped to attention. After instructing the singer to tend to his girl, he got rid of the teacup before joining the rest of the band seated in the small living room.

“How is she?” Bonzo asked in a far more subdued manner than expected.

“Still has a fever,” he stated, “but she seemed alert.”

“It’s because I threw her in the pool, huh?”

“Doubtful, Bonzo,” John Paul answered.

“Percy was sick a few days ago,” Jimmy pointed out.

“You think he’ll let me see her?”

“If you behave.”



Waking with Robert curled around her dozing, Summer wiggled. His eyes fluttered open, looking to hers. She pulled her arms out from under the blanket and attempted to get free from him. His lips brushed her forehead, relieved to find it not as warm as before.

“I need to pee, Robert,” she claimed.

His arms released her, “Do you think you can manage some soup?”

Her hands went to the sides of her head as she attempted to keep it from spinning, “I don’t know.”

“Will you at least try for me?” he quickly rolled out of the bed to offer her support to the bathroom, glad it was attached to the bedroom.

“I don’t know. Is... is Jonesy here? Or did I just imagine that?”

“Jonesy, Pagey, and Bonzo are here,” he confirmed, released her as they reached the bathroom.

“Oh.”

Robert turned his eyes away as she sat on the toilet, “They’d all like to see you. Maybe you could put on one of my shirts?”

“Sure.”

While she did whatever, Robert jumped to find a shirt long enough to cover most of her. Returning triumphantly, he barely caught her as she wavered on her feet. Frowning Robert scooped her up and carried her the remaining few feet to the bed. Not saying a word, he pulled the shirt over her head, kissing her nose before she flopped back down.


“I wanna see Bonzo,” she declared.

Robert tucked the blanket about her, “All right. I’ll get him.”

“Robert?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Why’s it so dark?”

“The sun went down.”

“But it was just morning,” she groaned.

“You slept all day,” he kissed her forehead again, brushing her hair back. “That’s why I want you to try some soup.”

“Just send in Bonzo.”

Stepping out of the bedroom Robert met the drummer’s eyes, “Summer wants to see you.”

“Yes!” Bonzo jumped up.

“Be gentle,” he stressed before letting him by.

Standing nearby his eyes watching Bonzo enter the room and sit on the bed. For a few minutes he remained as he was, keeping a good eye on the drummer. With him behaving Robert glanced at the other two.

“You wanna smoke?” Jimmy offered, holding up a cigarette.

He nodded, “Outside.”

The pair headed out of the bungalow. With the moon sparkling on the ocean, Jimmy lit Robert’s cigarette and they plopped down on the sandy beach.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Robert mumbled.

Jimmy smirked, “Wasn’t going to leave with Jonesy and Bonzo here.”

“Well you could have taken them with.”

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he shrugged, “Nah.”

Smoking silently for a few moments Robert tried to not think about the little girl inside with Bonzo. While he was grateful for the band’s company, especially since he believed Jonesy’s tea was the direct cause of Summer’s temperature dropping, something didn’t sit all that well with Robert. And that something was seated a few feet from him.

“Why come all this way and not ask to see her?” he spoke up.

Jimmy shrugged, “Don’t want to get sick.”

Not buying it, Robert looked careful at his friend, “Uh huh.”

“Look, mate, if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

Frowning he blurted out, “I don’t like you paying so much attention to Summer. I don’t like you and your guitars. And I don’t—”

“Hey now,” Jimmy interjected. “I am just teaching a talented young girl to harness her talent. That’s all. Nothing more.”

“Uh huh,” Robert responded in disbelief.

“Look, Percy, Summer is your girl. I am well aware of that. Everyone is well aware of that. If we haven’t seen you making eyes at her, we have certainly heard the stories,” he proclaimed. “You do not have any reason to worried. Really. I do not have any plansfor Summer. At all.”

“I have seen the way you look at her, Jimmy.”

“Gods, Percy! She is a very attractive young woman. I cannot deny that. But I am not trying to steal her away from you!”

He ground out his cigarette in the sand, “Of course you’re not. You wouldn’t succeed anyways. She loves me. I love her.”

“Wait. What?” Jimmy reached for Robert to keep him from getting up. “You’re in love with her?”

His eyes went to the guitarist’s, “Yes.”

He smiled crookedly, “Well fuck, Percy. After only a few days?”

“Four,” he declared. “But I knew the moment I saw her.”

“I thought the rules were to not fall in love with the group—”

“She’s not a groupie,” he interjected.

“Uh huh.”

“She’s not.”

“So you’re going to leave Maureen for her?”

Robert fell silent, looking away out to the ocean, “Maybe.”

“You’re going to give up a seven year marriage after knowing a girl for four days?” he questioned.

“Possibly.”

Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Jimmy shook his head, “Sometimes you’re a bigger romantic than I think, Percy. And that could get you into trouble.”



If John Paul hadn’t talked Robert and Bonzo into heading out for hot food not intended for a sick girl, Jimmy would not be standing in front of the closed bedroom door, considering opening it. While it was one thing when someone in the band or someone closely associated with it to be sick, it was something completely unexplainable different for Summer to be ill. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that groupies never seemed to get sick as it were. Or maybe there was something more mystical about the cute blond being sick. Maybe he feared that more than anything. But he could not stare at the door forever. And he had supposedly come to see her. He would enter.

Knocking gently, Jimmy entered the bedroom. As the sun had long set and he flicked no light on, he could not actually see her at all. But a soft, intake of breath indicated where she was, that she was aware of his presence. He stood silhouetted in the doorway for a few moments, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. Shuffling forward, his fingers stretched for the small bedside lamp. Clicking that on, Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes blinking to adjust before glancing at her.

Though Summer’s skin was naturally sun-kissed, a sprinkling of pale freckles on her nose, her skin held an exhausted pallor with flushes of deep pink coloring her cheeks. Without even a thought, Jimmy reached up and touched her forehead. A spot of relief touched his thoughts upon discovering she was warm but not hot.

“Jimmy,” she smiled finally as his hand dropped from her face, “I was wondering if you would come see me.”

“You were?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Summer nodded. “Wasn’t sure if you cared.”

“Of course I do. It’s just... it’s just...” he looked away.

“Tomorrow will you bring your guitar and play for me?”

His dark eyes flicked back to her and he couldn’t help but smile, “Of course.”

Summer grinned, “Fabulous.”

For a few moments they sat there silently. Both looked away from each other, though honestly both wanted to inspect the other. Jimmy wanted to see what Robert saw, to understand his infatuation with the young girl, to convince his interest in Summer was precisely what he told the singer. Summer merely was curious, having spent quiet times with everyone but Jimmy. In addition to that she was ever aware that Jimmy was the leader of the band, that his word was law; that alone meant a part of her craved his approval, not that she believed he would send her away. But he had dismissed Lori and – no, she was no Lori.

“Why do you frown, sweetheart?” his soft voice interrupted.

Her blue eyes went to him, unaware he had looked at her, “I... are you going to send me away?”

“Whyever would I do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You make Percy happier than I’ve ever seen him. You calm down Bonzo with a soft word or touch. You actually got Jonesy to take part in band activities,” he proclaimed. “There is absolutely no reason for you to leave.”

“What about you? What do I do for you?”

Jimmy looked out the open window, his eyes settling on the not-too-distant waves, “I don’t know yet. But would it not be a shame to never find out?”

“I guess,” she replied, turning on her side and tucking her hands under the pillow.

“Why have you stayed?”

“I can’t go home for a couple of days anyways, not until my ride turns up,” she answered.

He frowned slightly, “So you will leave when that happens?”

“Only if Robert wants me too.”

“And when is said person supposed to return to pick you up?”

“After the next San Diego show.”

His frown remained, “And if I asked you to stay, would you?”

“And not tell Robert I’m supposed to leave?”

Jimmy nodded.

Her eyes held his for a long moment, “I would stay.”

“Please stay.”

Summer smiled slightly, “As long as I am welcome, I will.”



Going to the bar for food had not been a good idea. While they had eaten, drinking quickly ensued. Within two hours of entering, Bonzo was belligerent. Within three he was passed out in the cab, returning to the hotel with Robert and John Paul’s assistance. While he had drank a fair amount, the drive sobered Robert, the one between the hotel and bungalow even more so; his thoughts had flicked to Summer being alone with Jimmy. Despite the guitarist’s assurances, Robert trusted him not at all with the girl, even less so when he himself was inebriated.

The cab pulled up in front of the beach house and Robert felt his stomach clench. Something must be wrong. His little love was—

“You gonna pay the fare?” the cab driver demanded.

“Oh. Here,” he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Thank you.”

Trotting up to the beach house a moment later, Robert quickly entered. Not finding Jimmy sitting in the living room did not help with the concern bubbling in him. The guitarist had to be putting the moves on his girl, regardless as to whether or not she was ill. Certainly Jimmy was – no, he needed to stop thinking about it and do something about it. Without another moment’s pause, Robert headed to the bedroom. Sure enough, that’s where Jimmy was, reclining on Robert’s side of the bed. Jealousy instantly flared, making it impossible for the singer to realize that Jimmy dozed on top of the blankets, Summer underneath with her back to the guitarist. All he could see was his girl in bed with his supposed —

“Robert?” a soft, sweet voice muttered. “Is that you?”

His eyes, well-adjusted to the darkness, “Yes of course it is. I can see I’m interrupting.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh wait. You were sleeping it off. So therefore no interruptions.”

“Huh?”

“You and Jimmy—”

“Percy, stop,” Jimmy interrupted.

His eyes flashed to the guitarist as he got up, “And here I thought you as my friend. But clearly you—”

The guitarist quickly pulled Robert out of the bedroom, “Nothing at all happened between me and Summer. She merely asked me to stay until she fell back asleep. That is all. No kissing, no fondling, and certainly no fucking. Bollocks, Percy, why the fuck would I be asleep on top of the blankets in my clothes?”

Robert looked at Jimmy blinking harshly. He had no logical response to Jimmy because jealousy did not follow logic. He merely wanted to punch the guitarist and return to demand honesty from Summer. But the longer he stood there, glaring at Jimmy, the more he realized the declaration had to be true. Not because of Jimmy’s evidence, but rather because he trusted and believed in Summer’s love. Even if Jimmy tried, Robert was certain she would turn him away. Shaking his head, Robert stepped away, turning to head back to the bedroom.

The young girl had turned the light back on, sitting shakily on the edge of the bed. Her long hair was knotted and matted from remaining nearly exclusively in bed for over a day. Color was beginning to brighten her face again, no longer collecting in her cheeks. Her eyes were bright and confused, searching his face for some explanation. He could see the effort of sitting trembled her body. Instantly all of his thoughts turned to her well being.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he hurried towards her, squatting near the bed. “How... how are you feeling?”

Summer thought about it for a long moment, “Hungry.”



The dawn of a new day had long passed and still Summer dozed in Robert’s arms. After a small meal in the middle of the night, she had quickly drifted off once more, cuddling with the singer. Jimmy considered returning to the hotel, but decided against it and curled up on the couch in the living room. But the light of day raked across his face, waking him. Deciding to be proactive, Jimmy headed into the kitchen, intending to make breakfast and coffee. Only he realized he had no clue what to do.

Slipping out of Robert’s arms, Summer slowly got out of bed. After a quick stop in the bathroom, she headed out of the bedroom. As her fever broke last night and her appetite returned, she was not quite as weak as before. Her steps were cautious, her finger lightly trailing along the walls as she made her way to the kitchen. Stopping in the entrance, Summer blinked, her gaze focusing on the guitarist.

“Jimmy?”

He practically jumped as he turned around, “Morning, sweetheart.”

“What are you...” she wavered on her feet slightly.

Without pause Jimmy jumped forward to steady her. Scooping her up, he deposited Summer on the counter, figuring pulling a chair for her would be too complicated. Shaking her head, she giggled and tugged on the borrowed shirt to cover herself.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Can you cook?”

“Sure I can,” Jimmy declared. “Percy and I didn’t starve when at the cottage in Bron—”

“You also had others with you, didn’t you?” she teased.

“I can cook.”

“Uh huh.”

“I can!”

“Don’t let me stop you then.”

Shifting back on the counter, Summer pulled her legs up and stretched the shirt over her knees as he turned away. Her eyes watched him intently as he rummaged in the fridge and cupboards. Smirking, her fingers began to work the knots out of her hair while Jimmy set a frying pan on the stove top. His fingers twisted the knob, but no flame or heat came forth. Frowning he attempted it again.

Plaiting half of her hair, Summer declared, “There’s no flame.”

Jimmy glanced at her, “I know.”

“So get out your lighter and light it,” she suggested.

Looking at her for a moment, he dug his lighter out. Squatting in front of the stove top, he lit the lighter, moving towards the appliance.

“No!” Summer exclaimed. “Not like that!”

His hand snapped back, “Like how?”

“Lift up the top of the stove and look for the pilot light.”

Staring at her for a minute, Jimmy wondered how it was that she knew these things. The previous night before Robert returned, she shared about her life, so he knew about her communal lifestyle.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Summer declared. “Just because I live on a commune doesn’t mean we don’t have electricity, gas stoves, or running water. I’ve been to ones like that, but mine isn’t. Shesh, Jimmy.”

He smirked, “Okay, okay.”

“Just lift up the top. And try to not blow us up.”

A moment later the pilot light was re-lit. Jimmy turned his attention back to cooking; Summer to untangling the rest of her hair. She bit her bottom lip as he cracked an egg into the frying pan and then fished eggshells out. Before she could ask what else he intended to cook, Robert stepped into the kitchen. His eyes flicked between the two before heading to Summer and kissing her gently.

“I see you’ve domesticated Jimmy,” he commented, glancing at the guitarist who attempt to turn over the egg.

“It was quite the ordeal,” she commented. “Jimmy, darling, that’s not going to work.”

He looked at her, “I can see that.”

“Crack more eggs into the pan and scramble them,” she stated.

Jimmy merely blinked before complying. Chuckling Robert turned away to make coffee. Within a few minutes the kitchen smelled of coffee and Jimmy scraped eggs onto plates. Apparently deciding his band mate needed assistance, Robert buttered some toast while instructing the guitarist to slice some fruit. With all tasks complete and the small table set, Robert kissed Summer and swept her off the counter.

“Good job, Jimmy,” Summer proclaimed after Robert settled her in a chair. “If this rock star thing dries up, maybe I’ll hire you as my cook.”

He blanched, “That might not be a good—”

“I’m kidding,” she grinned, taking a few small bites before turning her attention to Robert. “If I’m good, do I get to come tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“We’re playing San Diego,” Jimmy answered, glancing at Summer.

“Oh yes, right,” Robert sipped his coffee. “It all depends on how you feel, baby.”

“I’m just a little tired. That’s all,” she claimed. I’ll be fine. Besides I have a ticket to the show. I could always—”

“No. I want you somewhere I know you’re cared for. Benji will take care of you tonight,” he decided.

Summer grinned triumphantly, “And afterwards we’ll go—”

“Maybe. We’ll see how you’re doing then,” Robert interrupted.

Jimmy smirked, “Jesus, Percy, the girl is old enough to decide for herself.”

The singer briefly glared at him, “Summer’s never been this sick before. She—”

“—is fine,” he interjected. “Just tired. Let her nap before we leave and I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

“Can we go outside? I’ve been dying to go outside,” she batted her lashes at Robert. “Pleeeeeease.”

Half-smiling he shook his head, “After breakfast.”

“Oooh, Jimmy, you come too,” Summer declared. “And we can play guitar and sing songs!”

“Only if Jonesy shows up with it soon.”

By the time the dishes were scrubbed and drying, John Paul showed up, without Bonzo. Instead he carried two instrument cases: Jimmy’s beloved acoustic and his own banjo. Within minutes the quartet headed out to the sandy beach, Summer chattering excitedly. Though a slight tinge of exhaustion tinged her movements, she was nearly her happy, bubbly self. Robert was ever glad she had not been stricken ill for as long as he. The return of her smiles and giggles meant a lot in his life. Spreading her arms wide, Summer spun in the sun, her toes digging into the sand. Laughing she collapsed into the crystalline grains, her wide eyes looking to the three standing men expectantly.

“Well, gents,” Robert sat down, “what should we play for Miss Summer?”

Sitting carefully down, not entirely pleased to be out on the beach, Jimmy replied, “Three Blind Mice.”

Both Robert and John Paul looked at Jimmy as if he was crazy. Summer burst into giggles, rolling over in the sand to look at him while he unpacked his guitar from its hard case. He winked at her as he slipped the guitar strap over his shoulder and plucked the strings. Pushing up from the sand, Summer brushed herself off and moved to sit beside Robert. Without pause he pulled her into his lap, while his two band mates began to noodle with their instruments. Before long they fell into a melody. Summer grinned, turning in Robert’s lap to watch his eyes and facial expressions when his voice joined the music.

“Aaaaaah, caught you smilin’ at me/That’s the way it should be...”

Even though Robert pushed her to sing along, once the song ended Summer kissed him happily. Jimmy easily moved into another song. For nearly an hour, they played music and sang, tempting a small crowd of beach goers to circle. Towards the end, Jimmy slipped the guitar into Summer’s hands, whispered in her ear, and sat back to watch her play. Taking his words to heart, she took a deep breath and began to play. Modifying the three songs she knew and bending them together, her eyes went wide when Robert kissed her at the end of her playing.

Concluding their beach jam session thusly, the quartet slipped from the small crowd and strolled away from the bungalow, not wanting to give hints to where it was. None spoke for a long while, letting the ocean waves fill the void.

Having let his thoughts wander long enough, Robert finally spoke, “What did Jimmy say to you before you played.”

“Nothing.”

“He clearly whispered to you.”

“Ask him then.”

Robert stopped and turned to do just that. The guitarist merely smiled and shrugged. Frowning he turned back to Summer but she merely kissed him and said they should head back now. John Paul agreed, pointing out that they would have to head out for the concert soon. Nodding Robert turned, leading the four back to the bungalow. Without thought Summer’s free hand reached for Jimmy’s.

“Bonzo will be sad he missed this,” John Paul declared.

“Why didn’t he come?” Jimmy asked.

“Couldn’t find him.”

“What?” Summer’s attention snapped to him.

“He was probably still sleeping off last night,” John Paul shrugged.

“Robert, we need to—”

“We’ll call him before we shower,” he stated. “Promise.”



Despite Robert’s objections, Summer insisted on riding to the airfield with Bonzo in the red camper. Dressed in a long patchwork denim skirt and a simple powder blue tank top, she kissed Robert goodbye and skipped off to join Bonzo. With a grin, the bear-like drummer scooped up Summer and carried her into his chariot. Plopping down next to her, his fingers quickly reached over to tickle her. They continued that until he suddenly paled and disappeared int the reason he no longer traveled by limo: the bathroom. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, Summer waited for his return, concern crinkling her brow.

Returning to sit beside her again, his eyes flicked to hers. In that brief connection, Summer saw the internal pain he was in. In a heartbeat her arms slipped around him as she crawled into his lap. Bonzo’s strong arms enveloped her, his face buried on her shoulder. Her embrace tightened as he began to tremble with sobs. Her fingers pet his head, her lips touched his temple. Eventually Bonzo took a deep breath and pulled back to look at her.

“I... I hate this, Summer,” he declared.

“Hate what?”

“I hate feeling like shit. I hate touring. I hate this band. I hate being away from my family. I hate it. You go play drums tonight,” he proclaimed.

“Well I can’t. I don’t know how. But how about this: when we have free time, you can start teaching me, okay?” she suggested.

His eyes went back to hers and his arms tightened around her, “I think I may love you.”

“Fabulous. Don’t tell Robert,” she declared.

Bonzo chuckled, “Oh I know better. But really... I don’t know why, but... fuck, Summer, you make this all bearable.”

“I know it’s hard to be away from your family, but it’s not forever. And don’t you love parts of this? Weren’t you made to drum for this band?” she questioned.

“But at the cost of not being there for my family?”

“Bonzo, what if they came with you?”

“We brought wives along once. It was a disaster. The tour was no fun,” he answered.

Her finger danced across his forehead, “What about just having one of your kids along some time?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“We’ll figure something out, Bonzo,” she declared. “I promise.”

He sighed, “You think?”

Summer nodded and kissed his temple again, “And until then you’ll have me.”

Bonzo smiled, “I will have to thank Robert for finding you. And make certain that he does not ever lose you.”

“Well thanks,” she smiled, glancing out the windows. “We’re almost there. You gonna be okay?”

“You planning on disappearing?”

“Not for a very long time.”

“As long as you’re around, I’ll be okay,” Bonzo declared.



Trotting off the stage, Robert’s eyes quickly scanned the backstage area for Summer. Finding her standing beside Benji, he grinned and quickly approached her. She squealed upon seeing him and skipped towards him, throwing her arms around his neck as his circled her waist. Their lips quickly met. Giggling she pulled away, leading him out of view of everyone.

Stopping near a door she turned and kissed him again, taking a step backwards towards the door, “Bonzo promised me at least thirty minutes...”

Robert grinned devilishly, “Did he now?”

“Mmmhmmm,” she nodded. “You’re not too tired, are you, darling?”

“Whatever makes you think that?” he asked, herding her into the empty room.

“Kinda seemed that way when you were on the stage,” Summer stated.

“Are you too tired?” concern suddenly overtook the lust in his eyes.

Not replying verbally, her fingers went to his waistband. With a smirk, she tugged him closer, letting him close the door behind them. Her lips found his as her thumb shoved his button through the hole. He smiled as her hand slipped into his very tight pants and released him. Groaning, he pushed her hands aside, not wanting her touch, knowing she would quickly stroke him to completion and he needed more than that.

“Baby,” he muttered huskily.

Her hands looped behind his neck. His hands traveled down her spine to her ass. With a quick motion, he lifted her from the floor, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. One hand slipped between them to bunch her skirt around her waist. With that thin barrier removed, Robert wasted not a moment to plunge forward. Both groaned at the intimate contact, Summer shifting to better accommodate him.

Mouth devouring hers, Robert thrust quickly and steadily into her. To be honest he was tired, but he wanted her more. And he knew if anything could revitalize him, it was his Summer. Their bodies melded into one. He felt his spirit reach out for hers, meeting it with a kiss.

“Oh, god,” Summer groaned, her hands leaving his shoulders to press up against the cold wall he had pushed her against. “Oh, fuck, daaaaaddy.”

Her body tightened around his, bringing his own orgasm at the same moment. He moaned into her hair before turning to kiss her as their bodies pulsed together. Summer turned her head and kissed his ear, causing him to turn and capture her mouth in a kiss. Ever so slowly he pulled out of her, letting her down in the following movement. Looking away from her, Robert tucked himself back into his pants, trying to re-focus himself back on the concert.

Her arms wrapped around him from behind, her lips near his ear, “I love you.”

He lifted her hands to his lips, kissing her fingers, “I love you more.”

She grinned, “You gonna sing for me?”

“Baby, I always sing for you.”




Snuggled in Robert’s lap aboard the Starship, Summer dozed. The entire band seemed as tired as the still recovering girl for their onboard antics were very subdued. Jimmy huddled with Peter, likely discussing business matters, completely ignoring Bebe. John Paul, who normally stationed himself at the onboard organ, lounged on a couch near the false fireplace, arm draped over his eyes. Even Bonzo remained surprisingly subdued and sober, sitting near the golden couple. Roadies and others noticed the band’s exhaustion and kept to other parts of the plane. A quiet pall hung over everyone.

“Robert,” Summer muttered, “let’s just go home and sleep.”

He kissed her forehead, “Of course, darling.”

“Can I come?” Bonzo asked, pivoting on the couch so that his head laid on Summer’s lap.

Her fingers dropped to play with his hair, “There’s not much room, John.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he declared. “Please.”

Summer looked to Robert, giving him the power to decide. Shrugging he kissed her gently. Smiling her eyes went back down to Bonzo and she nodded. Grinning he hugged her as best as he could in his position.

When the plane landed, Robert and Summer climbed into Bonzo’s red camper. Within moments the three settled into the seats, the men sitting side-by-side, Summer reclining across both their laps. She once more dozed off as they spoke softly about things she knew nothing about. Something about their combined voices put her at complete ease.

“Robert?” she mumbled softly.

“Yes, baby,” his fingers brushed hair from her eyes.

“I don’t ever wanna leave. Don’t make me go back,” muttered Summer. “With you I feel at home.”

Smiling he responded, “I hope you never leave.”

Upon arrival to the bungalow, the three headed in. Bonzo broke off to visit the rest room, Robert lead sleepy Summer to the bedroom. Both quickly changed, Summer borrowing a shirt again. Her fingers quickly plaited her hair as Robert turned back the blankets. Looking at the bed, she tied off her braids.

“Robert, there’s plenty of room for Bonzo. Can he sleep here too?”

His eyes darted to hers, “Really?”

Summer nodded, “Yeah. No reason for him to sleep on the couch.”

“I...” his eyes stayed steady with hers. “Okay. You go tell him.”

Grinning at him, she skipped out of the room. Arms circling the drummer’s neck upon seeing him, she giggled and kissed his cheek. Chuckling he twirled her about, stopping as soon as she invited him into the bedroom. His eyes went to hers, completely shocked she had just done so.

Rolling her eyes, Summer declared, “Just sleeping. Not sex, John.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” she wiggled out of his arms, hand linking with his and tugging to the bedroom.

Seeing Robert already claimed his part of the bed, Summer pushed Bonzo towards the bed. As the drummer laid down the two men looked at each other with an odd sense of awkwardness. And then the light went out. Making her way around the bed, Summer crawled over Robert, leaning down to kiss him. His arms circled her waist briefly, before his hands circled her waist briefly before his hands drifted down to cup her ass, underneath the borrowed shirt. The longer she kissed him, the closer he got to arousal. Their quickie at the concert had done nothing more than awaken his appetite, though both of their exhaustion had tempered his libido. But now in the darkness, he felt his lust for the blond awaken.

But then she broke the kiss and slipped between him and Bonzo. Had the drummer not been there, he was certain Summer’s behavior would have been different, regardless of the fact she was recovering from — oh. Suddenly his lust disappeared, replaced by shame for wanting so much from her in her weakened state. He would kiss her good night and settle in for sleep.

“Good night, my princess,” he declared.

“Good night, my love. And good night to you too, John.”