Decades

Friendship. Or Something Like It.

Lindsey stopped by Stevie's suite and rang the doorbell. Tonight, they had a dinner party scheduled that some of those sponsoring the Musicares event were hosting in Fleetwood Mac's honor.

Stevie looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Lindsey standing there. It had been ages since they'd been in a comfortable enough place to stop by one another's rooms. Heck, this was the first time since New York she hadn't made a point of staying at another hotel.

Surprised, she opened the door for him and looked at him questioningly but pleasantly. "Hey, Linds," she said, a little apprehensive about what he could possibly want. The last couple of days had been really pleasant enough, though, so she was fairly sure he hadn't come by to upset the tentative peace they were now enjoying. She wasn't sure they were exactly friends, but they were friendly, and that was better than the chill they'd been experiencing recently.

He looked at Stevie and then at his feet for a second before looking back at Stevie with a grin.

"What is it?" Stevie asked with her big curlers bobbing on top of her head. She had on a giant fuzzy robe that swallowed her small frame and practically dragged the floor. Her feet were stuffed into a pair of furry boot-like slippers, and some kind of gold slimy patches stuck to her face underneath her eyes. As silly as she looked, she wasn't self-conscious. Lindsey had seen her in various states of getting ready for years backstage, and he often saw her in various comical states.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked again, opening the door so he could walk in.

"You. It makes me smile seeing you like this. You're just," he paused and gave a little shrug, "really cute," Lindsey told her.

She giggled and waved off the comment.

Lindsey walked on into her suite, not giving any reason for the visit. He simply walked to the bar, opened the refrigerator there, and found a beer, helping himself. He offered to make Stevie a drink, and she, still unsure of why he was there, asked him for a glass of red wine. So, he fished around for a corkscrew, opened the bottle, and poured her a nearly overflowing glass. When she balked at how much he'd poured her, he said with a conspiratorial wink, "It's a celebratory pour."

"Oh, well, in that case," she said, turning up the corners of her mouth mischievously and taking a big gulp from the full glass.

"Lindsey, did you want something?" Stevie asked. Perplexingly, he shook his head.

"No. I could make up an excuse if I need one for being here," Lindsey chuckled but looked at her cautiously to gauge her reaction to his words.

She smiled, but confusion was written all over her face.

"It's just been...,I don't know," he hesitated, "...nice hanging out with you at these events the last couple of days. I've missed you, I guess. And I just wanted to spend more time with you." His honesty was disarming. Though, he was always more likely to express his feelings than Stevie. Stevie rarely revealed everything. She was more comfortable keeping a part of herself private and protected. She preferred to only be vulnerable in her lyrics if she could help it.

"Well," she smiled widely, "come talk to me while I get ready." He followed her to the bathroom, happy to be invited. It felt like old times. He assumed a familiar position, sitting on the countertop with one foot on the stool where she sat so he could face her.

Lindsey watched her remove her curlers and brush her hair until it shone. He loved that she'd let him to hang out while she did her hair and makeup. He'd missed watching her get ready. She had one of her eclectic playlists on the speaker, and the music was a little too loud, as was her custom. She turned the volume down just a little so they could talk as she took another sip of her wine.