Title: Angels in a Cage: Chapter Five, Bells
Rating: PG-13 [mild language, suggested sex]

Summary: Alyssa's family grows. Is Chris being domesticated?




Seated on a plush chair, reading a book, Alyssa swung her legs back and forth. Occasionally she looked up when Marilyn stepped out of the dressing room, but mostly she focused on the fictional world in her hands. Ever since her soon-to-be stepmother started gifting her with chapter books, Alyssa couldn’t get enough. She spent most of her time during breaks at school reading, especially since she hadn’t really adjusted to her new school just yet, and all the breaks when waiting for her dad to pick her up and take her to the daycare down in the bottom of the law building he worked in now. Life seemed pretty good, she didn’t even have to see her birth mother without her dad holding her hand. Marilyn and her dad were even buying a house in West Seattle and she was going to pick out the color of her bedroom. Things were good.

She just wished Marilyn would hurry up already. All of the white dresses she had tried on had looked just fine. Why did she need a fancy dress anyways? Alyssa knew her dad would marry Marilyn regardless.

“Aly?” the older woman’s voice came once more, drawing her attention away from the fantastical words. “What do you think of this one?”

Tilting her head to the side, Alyssa frowned, “It makes you look old. And fat.”

Marilyn stood there silent for a moment before bursting out laughing, “And that’s one of the best reasons to have a kid along. They never mince words. I think the last one was the best. We should find your dress.”

“My dress?” her interest was instantly ripped from the book.

“Of course! You’re going to be in the wedding too,” Marilyn smiled. “I couldn’t marry your daddy without you being a part of it.”

Placing her bookmark in her book, she closed it and jumped off the chair, accepting Marilyn’s outstretched hand. Soon she had picked out a couple of very fancy dresses, fancier than anything she had ever worn before, and followed the older woman into the dressing room. Twirling about in the dress they decided upon, Alyssa never wanted to take it off. It made her feel like the princesses she read about.

“Can I wear it home?” she asked softly.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Marilyn replied, reaching to help the girl out of it. “We wouldn’t want to ruin it before the big day. So we’ll have them put it in a special box for us to take home. But how about we stop at the bookstore before we go home? I think your dad will be late tonight anyways.”



Sitting on the couch, Chris watched Kim spin an empty bottle on the table. Maybe if they were in high school it would have meant something, but it didn’t. Instead the soft scrap of glass on beat up wood only meant that they were bored. They needed to do something. Really.

Dropping his feet from the table, kicking Kim’s bottle in the same motion, Chris stalked over to the fridge and yanked it open again. The other guys were supposed to be there any time to practice. It was kinda nice to be living some place where they could practice in his living room whenever they felt like it. His neighbor had been pretty cool about it so far. The only downside to the house, the one Andy had once lived in, was the very reason it had been vacated: people broke into it all the time and stole shit. So far he hadn’t lost any instruments, but he wasn’t expecting that to last. Peter had been pretty good at chasing off people when he was home and Chris did his own fair share of it. But that was neither here nor there. And apparently neither was beer.

“Dude, we’re dry,” Chris closed the fridge.

“Hiro’s on his way. He’ll bring stuff,” Kim responded, shifting slighting on the couch, lifting the left side of his butt from the couch.

Chris glared, “I am not coming back over there if you just farted.”

“No no. I’m just readjusting myself.”

“Whatever, fucker. You farted. I know you better,” he responded.

The door to the shanty house opened and in walked Hiro. One hand lugged in his bass, the other a 12-pack of beer. Chris’s sour face instantly disappeared and he headed over to relieve his guest of his burdens. Before he could kick the door closed, the drummer headed up the walk, his drumsticks tucked under his arm. Though the guy was years older than the rest of them, he had been a decent drummer thus far. Chris had really no complaints, well except the fact that his wife creeped him out. But that could just be because she stared at him with eyes that suggested he needed to get his act together and marry his girlfriend — kinda like his girlfriend. Not that he would marry someone without having sex first. He didn’t want to be shackled to the same pussy without a—

“You gonna stand there like a moron or you coming in?” Kim barked.

Closing the door, shaking his head, Chris joined his band mates, “Sorry. Got distracted.”

“Cute girl out there? Have you still not fucked your girlfriend?”

“Shut up. It’s none of your business,” he declared, reaching for one of Hiro’s beers.

Kim chortled, “Your wrist getting sore, Chris? Will you just fuck her already and be over with it?”

“Fuck you.”

“Nah. You’ve got available pussy. You don’t need to turn all gay on my ass. Tap hers,” he stated before ducking out of the room to piss before Chris could throw anything at him.

Glowering, Chris collapsed back onto the couch, smelling the slight eau d’Kim in the air and scowling even more. They needed to get that man a big bottle of Bean-o or something. Or maybe just hit him over the head with a frying pan so he’d keep his mouth shut when he should. He didn’t need anyone else reminding him that he had been with Susan for months and still hadn’t had sex with her. He and his cock were well aware of it. Hell, sometimes he wondered if he could even get it up anymore, but that was always answered by an erection cropping up at the worst of times. Though how could Chris really consider those moments when Susan let down her guard and let him touch and kiss her the worst of times? Clearly they needed to have the ‘what are we?’ talk and that made him glower even more. Fuck Kim for making him think such things.

“Why the long face, Chris?” Hiro asked.

“Don’t worry about it. So we’re playing Deep Six in a couple of days, anyone want to decide what we’re gonna play?”



His eyes rolled back in his head. His hair flailed about, some of the shoulder-length strands sticking to the perspiration on his skin. He could feel Kim’s grooves, could nearly taste Hiro’s bass, his heartbeat was contained in Scott’s drumline. He was not singing, was not screaming. He merely was the song, channeling it through his veins like a psychic at a hippie festival. Oh but this was far from being a hippie festival. This was rock and roll. This was heaven.

At some point in the set, the stage and his feet began to hate each other. Clearly the solution was to jump off the stage into the crowd. Maybe if he had been half-conscious when doing so he would have hesitated, but the euphoria of being on stage, of feeding off the crowd’s energy, pushed all of that aside.

But none of this he remembered. He remembered the after party, remembered watching the other Deep Six bands who played after Soundgarden. It was only when people asked him about the set, mentioned his stage diving that he was aware it had happened. It did sound like something he would do, so he probably did. No need to disagree.

“Chris?” a feminine voice interrupted his silent musings with his beer.

Looking up from the amber liquid in the plastic red party cup, his eyes met dark brown. Forcing a smile, he leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned her cheek to him instead. Frowning his drowned his reaction in a deep drink from his cup before turning his attention back to her.

“What’s up?”

“Let’s go,” she responded.

“What? Why? We haven’t even seen Green River play,” Chris pointed out.

Her hand reached over, caressing his upper arm, “Because I want time alone with you.”

“Can’t we just—OH!” his eyes widened and he gulped the rest of his beer upon realization of what she was insinuating.

Suddenly a good night became great. He was getting some finally.



Not really understanding why people were crying and really just wanting a piece of cake like her dad had promised her earlier that morning, Alyssa shifted and sighed, looking up at the two adults in exasperation. How long did weddings take anyways? Looking out at the rest of the room, she recognized pretty much everyone. Most of the room was filled with people who worked with her dad and Marilyn, though the front row was filled with Marilyn’s family. Staring at the gray-haired couple for a long moment, she wondered what it was going to be like to have grandparents. Her dad had often spoke of his own family, even more so since they started to live in West Seattle, but sadly she still hadn’t met them. She thought that might make her daddy sad too, but Marilyn always made him smile, so maybe not. Marilyn had a brother too, but he didn’t have any kids nor a wife. Actually he brought another man to the wedding with him, which confused Alyssa even more than if he had brought a woman, especially when the two men held hands like other couples did. She would have to ask her dad about it later. Maybe her dad’s brothers and sisters had kids. Maybe she did have cousins. She would have to ask about that too. But not until the stupid wedding was over. How much longer could it be?

Sighing and shifting again, she pulled her eyes away from the crowd and looked back at her dad who was gazing lovingly at Marilyn. She really did like Marilyn, who took her shopping and read with her and all sorts of other fun things. And she was never ever angry with Alyssa, not even when she accidentally dropped a glass in the kitchen. She was as kind as the nuns at her new school, maybe even more so. Yes, she was glad to have Marilyn become her mom. If only it wouldn’t take so long.

“By the power invested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your husband,” the priest finally said.

Her eyes turned away when her father kissed her new mother, noticing everyone else was now clapping with their teary eyes. Figuring that’s what she should do too, Alyssa clapped a couple of times, until her dad and Marilyn turned towards her, both offering a hand to her. Clasping both of their hands, she let the two adults lead her down the aisle, past all the clapping people. At least it meant they were closer to cake time.

Giggling Alyssa stood on her father’s shoes as he glided about the ballroom. She felt even more like a princess with that treatment. Her tight spring curls bounced with every giggle and spin. Never before had she been to such a party. This was what weddings should be about, not that boring stuff in the church. Though to be honest, Marilyn’s church was better than her mother’s. It was far more fun, didn’t have all of the stupid rules. And the kids were fun to be around too. She didn’t attend any lessons there, as those were all at her mother’s church and at her school. But that’s not where they were currently. In a large ballroom decorated with sparkly fabrics and smelly flowers, the party goers reveled and celebrated the new family.

The sun set and still the party goers danced, drank, ate. Alyssa found a chair in the corner and curled up, her day’s suit jacket wrapped about her. Her heavy eyelids drooped close, her young mind grinding to a halt. The loud music and laughing was not even a distraction to keep her awake. Her father noticed her lack of presence after another circuit around the dance floor with his bride and parted from her long enough to seek out his young daughter. His dark eyes fell on her huddled form at the same time as Marilyn’s did. 

His wife stopped him before he headed to her, “Let’s say our goodbyes and then pick her up. Let the angel sleep a bit longer before we disturb her.”

Nodding, he escorted Marilyn about, thanking and wishing their guests farewell. Before long they had circled most of the room, returning to the sleeping little girl. Squatting before her, Howard reached out and touched her gently, rousing her. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion flitting through her gold-flecked orbs briefly. Recognizing her dad, her little arms appeared from under the jacket, reaching out for him. Without pause, Howard’s arms encircled her and he stood, pulling his jacket around her as he stood. Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she looked at Marilyn and smiled.

A few minutes later the small family were settled in Howard’s shiny black car. Alyssa quickly drifted back asleep before they were even a block away, her chin pressed to her chest. Marilyn flipped down her visor, pulling open the mirror to look at the little girl. A weary smile touched her features before she flipped up the visor again. Looking over at her husband, she reached across the console and squeezed his shoulder gently.

“When are we going to tell her?” she whispered.

His eyes flicked from the dark road to hers briefly, “Perhaps tomorrow, if the right moment presents itself.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay with it?”

He nodded, “I do. Alyssa has grown in leaps and bounds since we moved in together. I don’t believe the addition of a baby to our family will change that at all. I think she has a lot of love inside of her and that will translate to the baby as well.”



Laying naked in bed, Chris smiled as he inhaled his cigarette deeply. Had Susan still been there, he certainly wouldn’t have been smoking in bed; she didn’t like that at all. But she had left for work or something and he had a few hours until needing to head to the restaurant himself. He figured he would enjoy his cigarette in peace and then go practice singing for awhile, maybe even play with the guitar. He truly felt like the entire day was his to be had, the world was ready to be tackled.

It was amazing how much of a difference the return of mostly regular sex made in his life.

Feeling the embers near his long fingers, Chris picked up the beer can he had been using as an ashtray and threw off the blanket from his skin. Dropping the cigarette butt into the can, he headed into the kitchen, not caring that he was completely naked. Since Peter had given up on the shitty house, Chris was mostly alone when he was home. Or Susan would come over. And sometimes the band would come to practice, but that was problematic now as they hadn’t yet found a decent replacement for Scott. He wasn’t going to worry about it though. Right now the moment revolved around deciding on beer or coffee for breakfast, not who would round out Soundgarden again. That would come in its own time.

Deciding on coffee since he did have to go to work in a couple of hours, Chris turned to the cheap coffeemaker and pulled the bulbous carafe from it. Rinsing out the previous day’s coffee after briefly considering just re-heating that, he filled the reservoir with water before pulling open the plastic drawer that held the coffee grounds. Walking over to the garbage can, he scraped the old grounds out of the filter and into the trash and then retrieved the can of coffee from the fridge. Scratching his balls while waiting for the coffee to start to drip, Chris decided it was probably time to get dressed, his neighbors probably not liking him walking around naked. Ha, that thought made him laugh. He had one neighbor and he would bet money he didn’t have that the guy never looked in his windows. Regardless he would shower and get dressed while the coffee brewed.

Rubbing his body with a course towel a few minutes later, Chris smirked. He wasn’t supposed to be so goddamned content. Sure there was little reason not to be. He had a decent job, a decent girlfriend who was putting out regularly now, and headed up the best band in Seattle, albeit one without a drummer currently. Life was pretty damn good. And for some reason that felt completely unwarranted. Whatever.

After a cup of coffee and munching on some bread that looked like it was threatening to mold over soon, Chris gargled with hot saltwater. For the next hour he practiced all number of things with his voice, throwing in weird inflections, hitting higher notes than any of the other singers he knew. He pushed the limits until his voice began to crack, his throat began to feel it. Backing off on the practice, he smirked. It was always perfect when he pushed his voice to the limits before work. It meant he wouldn’t have to speak to many while there.

Glancing at the clock, he plucked the phone off the receiver and dialed Susan’s number. He didn’t expect her to be home, just wanted to leave her a message on her answering machine. Surprisingly she did answer.

“Hey, babe. I was just calling to ... to tell you how much I appreciate you and to tell you I hope to see you again soon.”

There was a long pause before she responded, “How long do you have until work?”

“About an hour and a half,” he replied.

“I’ll be over in ten.”

While he didn’t know why she was coming over exactly, his cock instantly awakened, deciding she was coming to visit it. This day just got oh so much better. Shuffling about the house, Chris picked it up some, though that probably wasn’t entirely necessary since she had seen it’s state the night before. Considering changing the bedsheets, he peeled off the blanket on the bed when there was a knock on the door. Leaving the bed as it was, he padded over to the front door and opened it. There stood his neighbor and from the look in his eyes, Chris knew what happened again.

“Fuckers. I’ll call the cops,” he declared.

Moments later Susan arrived, the police car pulling in behind hers. Confusion filled her eyes, an action mimicked by everyone else a minute later when the cop escorted Chris to the car, reading him his rights. Afraid to say anything, he muttered not a single word claiming that he wasn’t the one who robbed his neighbor. He understood that it was his long hair that made him a target of the cops; afterall it was the reason they never hurried to the house when they were getting robbed.

“Godammit!” his neighbor interjected. “Chris isn’t the fucking robber! He’s my neighbor. The real asshole went off that way!”

The two pigs conversed for a moment before releasing Chris from the back of the squad car. Not even offering an apology to him, they turned to his neighbor, asked for a description and other such needed things for a police report, and slowly left the group.

Anger filled Susan’s eyes as she paced in front of Chris’s house. Leaving his neighbor with a shrug, Chris slowly approached her, “Babe? You okay?”

“I’ve had enough with those asses treating you like a second-rate citizen. There is absolutely no reason they should be so fucking judgmental. They—”

“They’re cops, Suze. They’re just like that,” he stated.

Stopping her eyes went to his, “They shouldn’t be.”

“And I should be making millions and not working in a restaurant, but that’s not how life is. It’s okay. Really.”

“It’s not okay, Chris. It’s not.”

Seeing a glimmer of tears in her eyes, Chris reached for her, guiding her into the house. His arms wrapped around her after the door closed behind them. He kissed her forehead. Even if she was nearly ten years older than him, there were a few moments such as this where she seemed so close to the edge of falling apart. As such a strong woman, Chris could hardly stand such moments and yet felt rather good that she allowed him to see them after all of these months of being together.

“Everything is going to be fine, Suze.”

“You need to move out of here, Chris,” she remarked, pulling out of his embrace long enough to look up at him.

“You know I won’t find a better place than here. It’s only 325 a month. You can’t beat that price.”

“Just because it’s cheap doesn’t make good, Chris. You’re losing more than that each time the assholes break in here.”

“I don’t make enough at the restaurant to get a better place. Besides we can practice here without any problems and—”

“I don’t want to talk about it any more,” Susan proclaimed.

Sighing he nodded and kissed her mouth gently, “I’ll work on it, Suze. I promise.”