Buckingham Nicks-Part II of Fritz Series

Working My Way Back to You

***A/N sexual content ahead***

July 7th 1975

"Insert end F into place holder J19...Linds what the heck is J19?" scratching the back of my head I turn the instructions to Sara's new playhouse upside down. Looks like it's been written in Russian, at least as far as I can tell "Erm...I think it's that roundish flat looking thing" quirking her eyebrow Stevie picks up the thing I'm pointing at "I think this is C14" glancing back at the page I turn it over again...right C14. Freaking Greg, he can never buy easy to assemble gifts even knowing how challenged I am at this kind of thing. I never had Legos or erector sets as a child, that was his forte. Mom and Dad bought me instruments, trucks, and board games. And when I became a surly teenager, records, cash, and books.

"Remind me to strangle your brother next time we see him" I nod in agreement. Greg strangled. Check. The recipient of this grandly constructed playhouse is attempting to stack several pieces on top of each other while we slave away beside her. Our little boy is napping in the rollaway crib nearby, his little hands batting at the air in his sleep. Between Sara's birthday and the fourth of July our house has been inundated with visitors in the past week. The Mac showed up for Sara's birthday and nearly drank us out of house and home. They were a bit more restrained on the fourth of July, or as Christine put it the day the US and Great Britain called it quits.

Our album launch is next week critical and audience reception has been phenomenal. I know Stevie's excited about it, we left Princeton because of how much her and Carol hate each other. To her our success is a triumph and a tangible reminder that her judgment wasn't misplaced. To me our new found glory is a double edged sword, the money is good. The exposure is good, the potential to expand our fanbase and perform our music is great. But how much of it is down to our joining Fleetwood Mac?

We're a known quantity as Buckingham Nicks, we're "famous" in our own right. We've played sold out shows all over the country. We've been on television, been interviewed for Rolling Stone, met politicians and actors, we even got to meet James Bond himself Sean Connery at the premier of Diamonds are Forever. All of that we accomplished well before Fleetwood Mac was on our radar. But now we're billed as a supergroup. Made up of the most famous blues band in  Europe and the greatest folk band in the United States.

It's flattering. But I can't help but think we're about to lose our autonomy.

"I think that piece goes there" juggling a pole looking thing and a block I try and connect them the way it's shown in the picture. Just as I snap one into place the other pops back smacking me in the nose "Ow Son of a Bi-Bicycle" Stevie snorts laughing at my self-editing "Linds, here let me see" still chuckling she moves my hand away her mouth pursing sympathetically at my afflicted nose. Sara runs over kissing my nose "All better?" well it still hurts but the act itself brings a smile to my face regardless "Thank you baby". She skips back to her cartoons dancing to whatever silly song is playing.

Stevie, still smiling in amusement, kisses my nose too her thumb wiping lipstick off my face "Better?" my face heats, my breathing shallows, I catch her eyes hopefully "Yeah-much better". She's shy as she looks away her attention going back to our instruction manual. I want to feel optimistic about that. She's been physically distant with me for over a month, though we manage to communicate effectively with regards to Sara and Nova. As much as I enjoy being a father, and as much as I prefer this to being out on my ass...I want more.

Is that wrong? I've racked my brain over the whole situation and I can't for the life of me understand how to win her back. I'm an involved father, a good father. I'm devoted to Sara and Nova and I shower as much love and attention on them as I possibly can. But with Stevie, I'm afraid to try. I don't know if I can face rejection from her, she's still dealing with the trauma of being assaulted by Ryan aka lucky Dickhead. Even if I was in good standing with her, I'm still not sure she'd be able to reciprocate my physical advances. Not to mention her anger at my almost but not quite murder.