The Vault

Whiskey and Rye - Jimmy's P.O.V (Chapters 5&6) (REQUESTED)

Quick A/N;

I've been doing a lot of Jimmy requests, which is great! (I adore him with every fiber of my being and I'm still convinced I'm going to marry him at some point, whether it's this life or the next) But I was wondering if there are any other stars you want me to do?

It doesn't even have to be classic rock stars like Steven Tyler or Jimmy Page or Robert Plant - It could be anyone or anything.

If you guys want a fic from a favorite show or movie, or about a favorite actor or anything (Shit, if you even want me to make up a story set in a certain time or anything, I can)

Just so ya'll know, I'm taking ANY requests.

Also, this short is going to be a two part thing, just because it's so lengthy and needs so much explanation on Jimmy's part.

Love you all,

AeroHead25

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June 16, 1969

"Don't look so down," Robert grinned his typical, charming little smile, trying to have me see his way - he has yet to learn that his little tricks don't work on me. "Come on! What's a lunch between mates, hey? We just want to go out as a band before the show tonight... You know, a little something to get us in the spirit."

Really, I couldn't be arsed about going to lunch. I didn't care much about the 'spirit' considering I didn't need much to lift me up before a show. I was always in the mood to play a show, and I never needed much, aside from a little head from some groupie and maybe a good spliff. Reluctantly, I sighed and agreed to go to this stupid lunch. At least the boys had the decency to go to a café that I actually enjoyed.

As Percey left me to get dressed for the occassion, I found myself dreading the idea of going out. All I wanted to do was stay in my hotel room and play my guitar. I didn't have time for sqwabbling fan and screaming girls... Well, the screaming girl I don't mind so much. They give my ego a rather appreciated boost.

I shrugged on my shirt and buttoned it up towards my neck, leaving the last two buttons undone, seeing how the weather was treating London rather kindly, giving us beautiful bouts of sun. I pulled on a pair of black trousers and slipped on my white sneakers before giving myself a once-over in the mirror.

I never really thought much of myself, but if I have girls clamouring over me while I'm up on stage, or chasing me down the street when I'm simply trying to get some lunch or buy myself some new guitar strings, then I assume I don't look as bad as I think I do... Correct?

I smirk at the mere thought of all the girls that call for me every night while I'm on stage. The thought of what any of them would do just to get back stage... I bet all of them, looking like innocent little church girls, would instantly turn into little sluts once I smiled at them. Yes. I could make a girl squirm at the slightest of winks.

With my confidence boosted significantly, I grabbed my wallet and shoved it into the pocket of my trousers before striding out of the bedroom and into the living area of my hotel room, to find Robert, Jonesy and Bonzo with their legs all crossed impatiently - they were waiting on the floral sofa in the center of the room.

"Well lookey-here," Bonzo rolled his eyes, though a smile was on his lips. "If it isn't God's gift, himself. The notorious, mysterious, divine Mr. Jimmy Bloody Page... We've only been waiting half an hour on this god-awful couch."

"Oh, the fuck up, will you... I'm here now, aren't I?" I couldn't help but to laugh along with them. I knew that Bonzo was joking, so I didn't think to take much offense, after all, I'd do the same if he were the one that all the girls fought over. Hell, I actually do it to Robert whenever I see him parading around with a nice little bird on his arm. I find it rather amusing to try and embarrass him in front of his birds.