The Dance (Original Series Part 2)

Unless You Read Between My Lines

Everyone was losing their minds on the bus.

Stevie was sitting in a seat by the window next to Lindsey, her journal closed on her lap. She was looking out the window when the road sign for Uniondale came into view, and she said a silent prayer of thanks that they had all made it from Boston to Uniondale, New York without killing each other or themselves. They had decided to do it because of Christine, Stevie being her most vocal supporter but secretly the most horrified of the plan, and she had confided in Lindsey that it reminded her too much of the Street Angel tour, the only time in her career when she'd taken the bus. He looked over at her sitting next to him, staring out the window through tinted glasses and wondering if she was wearing them on such a gloomy day because she was hiding tears behind them.

"You never told me what happened on the Street Angel tour," he said, leaning over towards her.

"This is where and when you want me to tell you?"

Something had shifted in the way they were talking to each other now. There was a distance between them that both of them felt but neither could explain. Lindsey thought it was because he had made the decision to call Kristen and get her to fly out East to spend some of his down time with him on tour. Stevie believed it was because they had not been intimate since before the baby, and when they had tried to discuss it and told each other what they thought their problem was, each believed the other was right.

"Stevie, look at how much time we've got to spend in this goddamn bus. There's plenty of time for a long story."

"Fine. You're not going to like it."

"Try me."

"Not here. I don't want the whole Fleetwood Mac dysfunctional family hearing my business." She realized how short she was being with him and said, "After the show tonight. Come to my room." She put her hand on his thigh and kissed his cheek, which was the most contact they'd had since they'd slept beside each other in Connecticut.

Lindsey had no idea what she was going to say when he got to her room; the story of Street Angel had been a well-guarded secret, and he'd tried to ask about it the weekend they recorded "Twisted", but she'd looked so uncomfortable that he'd quickly changed the subject. 

He didn't have time to worry about it once they arrived at the Nassau Colosseum, however, because everything immediately began to go wrong. Two of his amps were not functioning, John had developed a migraine and didn't know if he could play if it didn't improve by showtime, and Christine and Mick were engaged in a heated argument over abandoning the idea of the bus.

"When the hell have I ever asked for something, Mick, something that I truly needed to be on tour?" Christine McVie was a mild-mannered English woman until she wasn't...and right now, she wasn't.

"So you're asking me to tell everyone - John and Stevie and Lindsey and the crew - to suddenly forget that we're used to private planes and individual bloody limousines and do this bullshit for the entire fall? That's what you're asking?"

"Yes. That's what I'm asking."

"Well you're asking too much."  Mick raced across the stage towards the exit, almost knocking Stevie down in his race to leave the area. Stevie and Lindsey exchanged looks as he stood beside his mic, fiddling with his guitar and playing something she could have sworn was "Stephanie". Lindsey was the first one to start laughing, and Stevie joined in, and soon they were laughing together and she realized it had been weeks - months - since they had really laughed together.

Anti-bus sentiment had swept like wildfire throughout the band by the time the show was ready to start, and Christine looked like she was angry for the entire time she played on "The Chain" and "Dreams".  She was able to put it aside by the time she sang "Everywhere", but she knew Mick had already made a few phone calls to organize a plane to take them through the rest of the tour.

Stevie and Lindsey were getting the biggest kick out of the argument, particularly the non-verbal moments - eye rolls and cold British stares. Stevie was adamantly against the bus herself but she did not want to put her two cents in; Christine and John and Mick had their own personal connection just as she did with Lindsey, having known each other even longer than they had, and she planned to let them fight it out for themselves. She had bigger problems.

Lindsey had asked about Street Angel. She had never told the story of that tour to anyone, even her mother. Lindsey had seen Kristen a few times since the tour had begun and she had slept alone on nights when he'd gotten all dressed up and disappeared down to the lobby of the hotel to meet her for a date. Stevie had spent those nights furiously writing in her journal, but the one thing she hadn't written about was the loss of her baby.  She began to every night, pen in hand, knowing from two separate stays in rehab that repression was dangerous, but nothing came out. She wrote about the tour, the highways they rode along on the bus, the growing rift between Lindsey and herself...but never her baby. One night she'd attempted it and burst into tears when she saw what was on the page...

Two lines. Stevie and Lindsey. Buckingham Nicks and Fleetwood Mac. San Francisco and L.A. Robin and Matthew. 1979 and 1997. All the same. Rhiannon.

She'd tossed the red velvet journal on the floor and crawled into bed alone, turned on Comedy Central in an attempt to stop crying and found a random standup comedy special from the 1980s but paid no attention, the jokes punctuated by audience laughter all she heard as she lay completely under the covers, wrapping them all the way to her shoulders, closing her eyes and trying with all her might to pretend the comforter was Lindsey's arms around her.

********************

"Two minutes, guys and gals!"

The stagehand who entered the backstage area was about twenty and had a ponytail dipped blue at the end. Lindsey came over to where Stevie stood at the mirror, immediately holding his arms out to take her hands in his and kiss them - at least their pre-show intimate moment hadn't suffered, she thought.

"Listen, I meant what I said, angel." She froze...When was the last time he'd called her angel? "I know you said a few years ago that you were not ready to talk about Street Angel but I think you really would feel better if you told someone...and I'd love for that someone to be me."

There was something different in his eyes tonight. There was a tenderness in them as he spoke that had been absent since that terrible summer night when everything had been lost, and she wasn't sure if she was imagining it because of how much she missed him, but she could totally see that tenderness had returned.

She spent the entire concert thinking about that look in his eyes. She thought about it when she looked over at him during "Dreams", when she stood off to the side as he absolutely owned the place during "Big Love", when she sang "Rhiannon" and sang the lyric, "Would you stay if she promised you Heaven?" She couldn't think of anything but the look in his eyes as he stood behind her during "Landslide", and after they wrapped with "Don't Stop" she hid as well as she could during Christine's solo performance of "Songbird".  She was both excited and terrified to see him in her room after the show, so lost in thought that Sharon had to push her out on stage to bow when Christine was finished singing.

"I'll come at midnight, angel," he whispered as she stood linked between him and Mick taking their bows. No question, no invitation.

"Does Kristen know you're doing this?" she whispered back.

"You didn't know I kept the card. It's only fair." He smiled sideways at her as their heads rose in unison while bowing. He hair brushed against his cheek and he felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"I'm not some dirty secret, Linds." But she couldn't deny she was blushing.

"I know that. You're Stephanie Lynn Nicks. That's all you ever need to be with me."

Stevie waited until she was in the bathroom stall backstage to cry. She was done being progressive and telling him his relationship with Kristen was fine. For the first time since that last night in the bathtub when they'd sang to the baby, Stevie was sure of what she wanted, and, as always, he'd spent the last three hours over to her left, where her heart was.