Smut, smut, smut! Just warning you now!
February 1975
Stevie had come to realize that the loss of their baby had taken a toll on her relationship with Lindsey more than either of them cared to admit.
The were working on their first album with Fleetwood Mac and it was amazing. Her biggest problem these days was getting through some of her songs without wanting to run away and cry.
She wondered if Lindsey asked himself why as often as she did. Sure, they may not have been here and they may not have had the money to raise a child, but they were Stevie and Lindsey. They could do anything. They could rule the entire world whether they were parents or not.
Christine had knocked her from her reverie, "you alright, love? You've been playing the same three notes over and over."
Stevie looked down at the piano and shook her head, "sorry, I guess I got lost in my thoughts."
Christine nodded, "I don't mean to pry, but is this about Lindsey?"
"How'd you know?"
"You've been quarreling quite a bit," Christine admitted.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. We don't mean to bring our personal problems to the studio."
"It's quite alright. You've seen how John and I are. Do you want to talk about what's going on?"
Stevie shook her head, "I'm not ready. Lindsey and I can't even talk about it yet."
"Well, if you change you're mind, I'm here."
Stevie nodded but she never took Christine up on her offer, and Lindsey never spoke to her about it either. It was a downward spiral from there.
November 1999
Stevie and Lindsey sat on a park bench, watching their sons play while their daughter was napping quietly in her stroller.
Luckily no one seemed to want to take their pictures today; or perhaps no one cared, which was even better.
"Have you thought at all about what I said to you?" Lindsey asked, breaking the silence.
Stevie didn't answer right away, but when she did, it hadn't been what Lindsey was expecting, "why didn't you ever talk to me about the baby we lost?"
Lindsey looked at her completely taken off guard, "do you mean..."
"Yes, Lindsey, that's the only baby we've ever lost."
He didn't say anything for a long time; just watched his boys play on the jungle gym. "I guess I didn't know what to say. It hurt. I was angry at God. I felt like there was a hole in my chest and a hole in our lives."
"I felt that way too. It's just that you promised to be there for me and we'd get through it together and you weren't," she said, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Can I ask where all this is coming from?"
"I've been writing a lot and it's dredging up the past, so it's been on my mind a little."
He took her hand in his, "I was young and stupid but I would never do anything like that again. Haven't I proven that to you by being here for you throughout your recovery?"
Stevie gave him a small smile, "of course you have. It just doesn't mean that you aren't going to run away and hide at the first sign of trouble."
He looked hurt and she knew it, but she continued going anyway, "we've done a lot of bad things to each other over the years and we have three children to think about now. I don't want to drag them into our issues. Plus, I'm terrified you only want to be with me because of what happened to me, and as soon as you realize that I'm okay, you'll be gone again."
"Do you honestly think I would put our children through that if I wasn't sure? Do you think I just want you because I almost lost you? I want you because I love you and I don't understand why that's so hard for you to believe. I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to. The only place I want to be is here with you!" His voice was raising, not in malice but in passion, and the boys looked over at him. Stevie waved them off to continue playing.
"Is love enough after everything we've been through?" She wondered aloud.
"Steph, until we broke up, love is what got us through the best and worst of times."
Was it? She wondered to herself. If that were true, wouldn't they have made it? Would they have been together all these years? Or would they have just kept up their never ending cycle of fighting and fucking until it started all over again?
March 1975
Stevie took her head phones off and threw them to the ground, "I'm sorry. I can't work like this."
Mick and Christine glanced at each other, knowing that Stevie and Lindsey just had another blow out fight. It certainly didn't help matters that she was trying to record Landslide.
She walked out of the booth and Christine walked in to record her own song. Stevie headed outside for a cigarette, but her hands were shaking too badly to light it.
Lindsey walked over and lit it for her. She didn't speak to him as she took a drag.
He tucked some hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead; he was almost surprised that she let him. "Do you want to talk, angel?"
She shook her head, "not particularly. I can't even fucking sing because of you. It's the one damn thing I'm good at!"
"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I said some really awful things and I'm so sorry."
"I know you are and I'm sorry too. I just don't understand why we can't get our shit together," she replied, resting her head against the his chest.
Lindsey kissed the top of her head, "I don't know either, but we'll figure it out. We always do."
He tilted her chin up to kiss her. He'd only meant for it to be a chaste kiss, but Stevie was having none of that tonight. She wanted to feel loved. She wanted to feel wanted. Lindsey knew this and he kissed her back fiercely.
She ran her hands down his chest to his belt buckle and he laughed a little, "no. Not right now. Not here."
"Lindsey," she nearly whined.
He kissed her again as he lifted her dress up to her hips and pulled her panties past her knees. He sunk down to his own knees in front of her. Her hands went straight for his hair as she moaned and leaned her head back against the side of the building. They both knew they could get caught, but that didn't stop either of them.
When he ran his fingers over her outer lips she was already wet and ready for him. If he had been less of gentleman he'd have taken her right then, but he wanted this to be about her.
He slid her panties off and moved her legs apart as far as he could. He licked her outside lips and her hips bucked as she cried out his name. He did it again and again until she was begging for more.
Never one to disappoint his Stevie in bed (or against a building), he ran his tongue across her slit before diving right in to take her swollen clit into his mouth.
When she screamed, he thought for sure the band must have heard them; but when he sucked on her clit and she bucked her hips against his face, he suddenly didn't care.
He slid his fingers inside of her and fucked her as his tongue worked her clit. A few sharp tugs on his hair were the only warning he got before she cried out, "I'm coming, I'm coming, oh god, I'm coming!" Like some type of dirty mantra.
Once they had righted themselves, they headed back into the studio, where they effortlessly finished recording for the evening.
Thus begun the never ending cycle of how Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham would forever deal with their problems; by fighting and fucking.
And so it begins; the story of how Stevie and Lindsey dealt with their issues (and probably still do)
