Title: Almost Famous: The Trade, Part IV
Rating: R [language, drugs, sex]
Word Count: 6,597
Characters: Summer Dylan, Jimmy Page, John McVie, Mick Fleetwood, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, Lindsey Buckingham, Lily Walker, John Bonham, John Paul Jones, Benji LeFevre, and Cameron Crowe

Author's Note: This series is based on Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous. As the movie is autobiographical in nature, this series will gleam stories from the movies, based on real-life events and translate them into the world of DiF's epics. This one encapuslates Midnight Shift and Love Runs Deeper. Completely canon with the epic and WILL contain spoilers.

Summary: Summer is traded from one band to another, completely without her knowledge...





June 6, 1977
Los Angeles, California
As the plane set down in California, Cameron felt serenity wash over him. He had accomplished precisely what he set out to do: he found Summer. Though he had not intended to return to California with her, when he thought about it, he saw no other option. Even if she said she wanted to go back to the band, he would have talked her out of it. She just plain deserved better regardless.

He never should have let her leave California in the first place.

“What are you thinking?” Summer spoke to him softly as the plane made its way to the gate.

His brown eyes went to hers, “It’s good to be home.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, “You’re not saying something.”

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered softly, a soft flush filling his cheeks.

Summer grinned, “That’s not what you’re not telling me.”

He glanced forward in the cabin, “Time to get off. We’ll have to take a cab to my apartment since… I took one here. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine, Cam,” she replied, still smiling slightly.

The two young adults departed the airplane and headed down to claim their luggage. Cameron glanced sideways at Summer as they stepped out of the airport. Her face turned up towards the sun, her lips curved into a happy smile. Tossing the stuffed duffel bag into the back of a taxi, Cameron watched as Summer seemed to blossom in the California sunshine. This was where she belonged, not shuttling between concerts with the biggest rock band in the world.

“Summer?” he softly spoke as he approached her. “Ready to go home?”

Her bright blue eyes met his, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He climbed into the cab first, allowing her the window seat just as he had on the flight. Practically pressing her face to the window, Summer watched Los Angeles blur by. Though she knew their destination was Cameron’s shared apartment in the city, she felt more at home than she had in quite some time. Perhaps she needed to give up life on the road and… find her own way. Perhaps this trade was her sign to do just that.

“What are you thinking, pretty girl?” Cameron asked as the cab stopped at the intersection before his apartment complex.

She pivoted on the seat to face him, “Do you think… do you think maybe I shouldn’t…”

“What, Summer?”

Shrugging, she turned away from him. Cameron frowned slightly, but he knew he needed to trust that she would tell him when she was ready. She always did.

They arrived at the complex and Summer slipped out of the taxi while Cameron paid the fare and grabbed his bag. Standing next to her as the cab drove off, he glanced at her sideways. With a smile, he slipped his arm around her and hugged her briefly.

“Welcome home… as long as you want it to be,” he muttered.

Summer kissed his cheek quickly, “Thank you.”

As they headed up to his apartment, Cameron began to feel rather proud of himself. Not only had he managed to find Summer when the Led Zeppelin machine could not, he returned her home. It might not be the most ideal location, as he really had no idea how to work out sleeping arrangements. But at least she was safe. He hoped she would be happy too.

“Um,” he unlocked the apartment door, “we can go to that restaurant on the beach you like for dinner.”

“I’m okay,” she responded, stepping into the apartment and glancing around. “I think… I’d like to take a nap, if you don’t mind.”

Concern flashed through his eyes, “Uh, yeah, sure. You can… nap in my bed.”

“Thanks,” Summer briefly smiled at him before heading to his room.

Watching her head to his room, forgetting he left it quite messy in his rush to leave, Cameron tried to figure out why her sadness returned so suddenly. Maybe something reminded her of the band… like his big poster hanging in the living room. He would have to take it down while she slept and hide any of the rest of the band’s merchandise. The moment the door closed on his bedroom, Cameron set to doing just that.

As he balanced on a kitchen chair carefully removing the large poster, the door to the apartment opened and his roommate stepped in. Saying nothing, he set down his Carl’s Jr. bag on the table and watched Cameron take down the poster as he sipped on his soda.

“Re-decorating?” his roommate asked.

Glancing over his shoulder, Cameron said, “Oh, hey, Mark. No, not really.”

“Then how come you’re taking the poster down?” he plopped down at the table and reached into the paper bag.

“Summer’s here.”

“She is?” he spoke with a full mouth.

“Yeah, she’s in my room,” he stepped off the chair.

Mark glanced at Cameron’s door, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he responded, rolling up the poster. “The band has been less than… right to her.”

“How so?” he questioned before taking another bite of his burger.

Before Cameron could answer, the door opened and Summer stepped out, wearing just a borrowed shirt. Both of the young men looked at her, their eyes following the outline of her body down to her bare toes. Hearing his roommate smirk approvingly, Cameron quickly stepped between the two of them, cutting off Mark’s vision of Summer. His roommate shrugged and turned his attention back to his fast food.

“I thought I heard voices,” she smiled, peeking over his shoulder. “Hi, Mark.”

“Hey, Summer. If I knew you were gonna be here, I would’ve bought you a burger too.”

“No worries. Cameron and I are going to the beach later.”

“Cool,” he responded, filling his mouth with a handful of fries. “Youstayingforawhile?”

“What?”

“Yes, she is,” Cameron answered, stepping forward and nudging Summer back into his room. “You really should wear more.”

“I didn’t know he was here,” she replied as he closed the bedroom door.

“That shouldn’t make any difference,” he stated, moving to the closet and shoving the rolled poster into it. “I thought you were napping anyways.”

“Cam…”

“You hungry?” he glanced at her. “If we head down now, we can watch the sun set on the ocean.”

“Really?” her eyes brightened.

“Yes,” Cameron smiled slightly, relieved to see light in her eyes again. “So get dressed again and we can walk to the beach.”

“Okay,” she agreed and quickly pulled off his tee shirt.

Eyes wide, he quickly turned his back to her, “I meant after I left the room.”

Summer quietly stepped up behind him and whispered in his ear, “Then you should have said that.”

“Jesus!” Cameron flinched and unintentionally turned back to face her.

Noticing she was very much still unclothed, he turned red, spun back around, and headed towards the door. His fingers closed over the doorknob, but he did not open the door, knowing full well if he did, his roommate would see what he should not. Instead, Cameron pressed his forehead to the door, listening to Summer get dressed and trying to calm himself down.

“Do I have to wear shoes?”

Figuring that was her signal that she was dressed, Cameron stole a glance at her, relieved to find she wore a sundress once more, “No, not if you don’t want to.”

“Excellent. We better take a blanket to sit on too.”

Turning fully to face her, he nodded, “Yes, of course. Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t fall asleep on the beach. I can’t carry you back.”



June 21, 1977
Los Angeles, California
It had been almost three weeks without her. The withdrawals had been horrendous. At first, he attempted to find some other groupie to fill the void, but no one came remotely close to fulfilling him like Summer did with a single kiss. The only other option was to increase his intake of substances. He drank more Jack Daniels; he snorted more cocaine; he inhaled far more heroin. It was all an effort to smooth over the pain he felt at her absence.

Jimmy had lost all hope of finding his princess again. He was so full of darkness that he did not even pester Grant about finding her any more. Though the manager assured him daily in the beginning that they were exhausting all efforts to find the pretty blonde woman, Jimmy lost his faith.

He did not understand why she had just up and left the band. There had been no prior warning at all. They made love, he slipped downstairs for a drink and a smoke, and he returned to an empty room. She had not once voice unhappiness or dissatisfaction with anything. Had she, Jimmy would have moved the world to fix whatever it was for her. Instead, she just… left. It made no sense to him at all.

And he was one drink away from tracking down Bob Dylan and demanding to speak with his daughter. Glancing at the lack of whiskey in his glass, Jimmy shook it, hearing the ice tumble about in the glass. Maybe he was two drinks away from calling Bob.

Though the door to his suite was closed, Jimmy feigned disinterest when it opened as he was pouring another drink. He glanced over his shoulder as he capped the Jack Daniels bottle, his dark eyes flicking to his visitor. Finding Audrey closing the door, he turned slowly around and watched her every motion. Pressing her back to the closed door, her eyes went to his and she smiled slightly.

“Audrey,” he acknowledged her before sitting back down on the sofa.

“Jimmy, don’t be mad at me.”

“Whyever would I be mad at you, sweetheart?”

“Well… Cameron is here. He was at the show and tried to come speak to you afterwards but you hurried back here to… whatever,” she explained.

“Does he know where Summer is?”

She broke eye contact briefly, “It’s really something he should tell you.”

Jimmy finished his drink and set it down, knowing her response meant Cameron didknow something of Summer’s whereabouts. It instantly chafed him, but he suppressed his emotional reaction. Instead, he slowly stood up and held his hand out to the young woman. Wordlessly, she led Jimmy from his hotel suite and down the hallway.

Halfway down the corridor, Jimmy spied Cameron. Rather than continue to stalk down towards Summer’s best friend and demand her location, he stopped. The road manager intersected the writer, likely intending to throw him out or bar him from the band. Jimmy and Audrey stepped close enough to hear the two men converse.

“Yer not bloody going to go and see them. You’ve caused enough trouble,” Cole declared.

“I just have a message from Summer. It won’t take me but a moment,” Cameron argued. “Just a minute.”

“A message from that whore? What would she have to tell them?” the manager chuckled, seeing Cameron tense. “Is she sucking your cock now? She’s got such a pretty, little mouth. It’s amazing she can suck down anyone.”

Cameron’s hands balled into fists, “Take it back.”

“She’s probably a sloppy fuck now, all used up by the band. Or does she let you fuck her tight, little ass? On second thought, you go get her so I can spread her legs and fuck her properly right here. Then she can deliver her message herself,” he smirked.

Not about to verbally respond to that, the young man took a swing at the road manager, his fist colliding with Cole’s face. The manager laughed the attack off and quickly threw two punches himself; one glanced off Cameron’s nose and collided with his left eye, the other sank into his stomach, causing him to double-over and fall to the floor.

“You can tell your little fuck-bitch that the band doesn’t want her back now that Fleetwood Mac is done with her, but I’ll fuck her a few times in any case,” Cole muttered after pulling Cameron back up briefly.

Releasing the young writer, Cole turned and headed back into his room, not seeing Jimmy standing down the hall behind Audrey. Back on his knees, Cameron tried to regain his breath and stop the bleeding from his nose. Once the door closed on the manager’s room, one of the groupies rushed forward with a tissue, muttering something about him being brave for standing up to Cole.

Jimmy slowly approached the writer, “You’ve… spoken with Summer?”

Cameron glared at the guitarist as he slowly stood, pinching his nose with a tissue, “If you think for even a minute she’s coming back to you, then you’re high. Even if she wanted to – which she doesn’t because she knows you traded her – I wouldn’t let her come close to you.”

His eyes remained focused on the young man, “She’s okay? She isn’t hurt?”

“She’s not a concern of yours anymore,” he dropped the tissue. “Just give me her things.”

“But –”

John Paul who stood by silently watching as many other had stepped forward, “Audrey will go get her things, Cameron. Tell Summer she is missed and if she will allow it, I will ring her soon.”

With the bassist tempering Jimmy, Cameron followed Audrey to retrieve Summer’s luggage. He knew the two girls already talked on the phone since the band returned to California. While he was glad of their friendship, a part of him was a bit jealous as well. Summer was supposed to share everything with him. But he pushed it aside and hid it away as the young woman handed him bags. Flinching as he realized his hand was swollen and likely bruised from hitting Cole, Cameron struggled to carry all of Summer’s things.

Audrey quickly offered her help and headed to the elevator with him, carrying half of the bags, “From the look on Jimmy’s face, he didn’t know she was traded until you said it.”

Waiting until the elevator doors closed, Cameron glanced at her, “Bullshit. I thought that at first, but Summer’s right: nothing happens involving this band without Jimmy being involved. I don’t know why he wanted to get rid of her. I don’t really care. It was just a stupid and cruel way to do it. She’s lucky to be free from them.”

“You don’t really mean that,” she sighed.

“You haven’t held her while she cried over the fact she means less to them than beer and cash,” he declared as the doors opened on the ground floor.

“Cameron…”

“Look,” he stopped and turned to face her. “I know you’re loyal to the band. And fuck if I wasn’t until recently, but what they did to Summer is unforgiveable.”

“But they didn’t do it,” she stated softly, her eyes darting around. “It was Grant.”

Cameron froze, staring at her for a moment, “What?”

“It was Grant. I just found out today before the concert, from the roadies who were ‘given’ her as stakes for their poker game,” Audrey explained quietly. “He approached them, knowing they were going to the roadie poker game, and told them to get rid of her. They purposefully lost the poker game and brought Fleetwood Mac’s roadies back, let them into Jimmy’s room, and walked away.”

“Fuck.”

“Tell Summer. Don’t tell Summer. It’s up to you,” she claimed, nudging him back towards the exit. “But she probably should know, even if it doesn’t make a difference. And she should know that Jimmy has been depressed ever since she ‘disappeared.’ Be her friend, her best friend, and tell her that at least.”

Driving back to his apartment in the middle of the night, his trunk full of Summer’s clothes, toiletries, and her beloved guitar, Cameron flexed his bruised hand, grimacing. He did not want to return to her in such a state, but he could not hide his pains. Nor could he really keep from her what Audrey learned. If he did not tell her himself, Audrey likely would next time they spoke. He owed it to Summer to tell her straight up.

Leaving everything but the guitar in the car after he parked, Cameron headed up to the apartment. He was not surprised to find Summer and Mark sitting on the sofa, talking, when he returned. Summer instantly stopped whatever story she was telling and jumped up. Her blue eyes first noticed her guitar and a happy squeal left her lips as she hurried over to him. However, she froze as she reached for the guitar case, noticing the state of his face.

“Cam, you’re hurt,” she muttered softly before turning away and hurrying into the kitchen.

“I’m fine,” he declared, but knew she did not believe it.

As she pressed a bag of ice to his face and another on top of his hand, Summer pried the story from him. He watched emotions ebb and flow in the pools of her eyes, not needing her to mutter anything to understand what she was feeling. Cameron tensed as he explained what Audrey discovered, certain it would mean his days with Summer sleeping curled in his bed would end. A tear rolled down her cheek and she lowered the ice from his face. He was certain his fears were coming true.

Her hand reached up and cupped his untouched cheek, “You should not have hit Cole. He was not worth this.”

“But he said–”

“Because he is an asshole, Cam. You know that.”

He nodded, “Do you want me… do you want me to take you back to Jimmy?”

“No. Why would I want that?”

“Because… it was Grant who had you traded, not Jimmy.”

“Cameron, you’re sweet,” she caressed his cheek before dropping her hand, “but even if it was Grant, not Jimmy, I’m not foolish enough to go back there. The road manager beat my best friend and my boyfriend stood there and did not stop him? I don’t need that life. These sober weeks with you have been better than the inebriated months with the band. No, I will stay here. If Jimmy wants me, really wants me, then he’ll have to win me back himself.”

Cameron silently hoped Jimmy did not attempt that. For Summer and for himself.