Disclaimer: Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons and KISS are actual persons, and they are property of themselves. The portrayal of them in this story is fictitious, and is the work of a fan, for entertainment purposes only, not to demean or harm the people mentioned. Other characters are copyright by Trynia Merin. My thanks to Eisencookie, Ms Starchild and Ilovepaul66 for help with this story!Hand in hand, they giddily ran towards the parking garage entrance. Both laughed heavily, finding it difficult to breathe, so they stopped to catch their self-control. Throwing his head back, Elliott chuckled, "I can not BELIEVE we pulled this off," he chuckles, throwing his head back.

"Your dad figured it out RIGHT away, and so did mine. Did you see the look your dad gave me?" she said, giggling.

"Holy SHIT..." Elliott groaned. "I am dead. We'd better get going... before he sends out the police..."

"Like WHAT, every damn hired hand? Give me a break, we're in New York. Besides, he knows if I'm REALLY in trouble... I'll call him..."

"Let's go, let's go!" he urged, taking her hand and leading her into the parking garage. It was the type that used valet parking, and he quickly called the attendant to rush up and bring it down. A few minutes later when the car pulled into the front entrance of the garage, Jeannie let out a gasp of appreciation. It was a silvery gray Mercedes convertible, a few years old, but kept in mint condition. Hardly a scrape or a ding anywhere on it.

"Like it?" he winked.

"Tell me you have a garage for this... and parking must be EXPENSIVE."

"Shall we?" he asked, getting his key from the attendant. He opened the door for Jeanie, urging her inside. She took his hand, stepping down into the small car, which thankfully was a sedan with enough legroom. Swinging her other leg in, she took a moment to finger the all leather interior. Elliott closed the door, and crossed around to open his side and climb in.

"Hmmm." she sighed. "I'll admit THIS is nice..."

"I'm afraid I can't take credit" he sighs, "It's dad's bucks that bought this." he says as he starts it up.

"So, my dad bought mine," she winked. "A champagne colored BMW, with leather interiors, and six disc CD player. But I had to agree to finish college before he'd let me drive it. I should take you for a ride when you come out to see us."

"Well he DOES lay down the law in his own way, doesn't he?" he asked. "He definitely gave me that 'You'd better not screw my daughter look'"

"Yeah, and he has that bit of fluff Mandi he's banging," she snorts. "He needs to lay off."

She runs a finger along the leather seat, in appreciation. Elliot pulled around the corner and threaded his car through downtown traffic toward one of the bridges. "Ahhhhh, she's cute," he teased.

"Yeah I knew you'd say that. She's pretty, but ditzy as hell. Even though dad DOES claim she's a good assistant, she's too damn flighty."

"When I get to be a rock god some day, I'll be surrounded by 'em," he winked.

"And I'll be surrounded by handsome hot guys," she snorts. "So THERE."

"But I'll only have eyes for YOUUUUU," he teases, pulling her closer.

"Oh sheesh," she groaned.

"What? You don't BELIEVE me?" he teased.

"Mmm, I wonder..." she teasingly shook her head, looking doubtful. "I could just say I knew you when..."

"Ouch," Elliott groaned. He had the radio turned up, and she heard Stained with their song "It's been a while" playing over the digital sound system in the car. For a few minutes, they rolled along traffic in silent appreciation, each thinking their own private thoughts about just what they were getting into.

"Damn this is nice..." she sighed, relaxing in the comfortable seat.

"Thank you," he smiled. She reached up under the sunshade and glanced at the CD's stored there.

"STP... Everclear..." she mumbled. "Alien Ant Farm, Lincoln Park, POD..."

"Whatever you want, that's just part of the collection NOT in the changer."

"Is it under the seat or in the trunk?" she asked.

"Under your seat," he smiled. She reached down and fumbled to pull out the small box stacked with discs. Noticing even more bands like Nirvana's greatest hits, Train, Live, and even Creed. Jeannie balanced it on her lap, then pulled a jewel case out of her large purse, which contained her portable CD player amongst other items.

"I carry everything in here," she joked. "No tiny little pencil case for this girl. Makeup, butane hair curler brush, Tylenol, on the go slimfast bar, and even extra stockings... and of course a few CD's I want with me..."

"Practical lady," he smiled. "Not bad... so what is this gem you want to play?"

"How about some good ol stuff?" she asked, slipping the gold colored rewriteable CD into place, then pushing the box underneath her seat again. Elliott let her punch up the buttons to select the track she wanted.

"I actually love music...all kinds, all eras. You know what's going to sound awful? There's some of dad's stuff I'm not real nuts about, but some of it is amazing," he reflected.

"I think you'll like this," she said, scanning past "Back off, Virgin to Love, Gimme Sugar all night, You said WHAT... to the song she wanted.

She pushes play, and they hear a loud "HEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY!" which was his own mom's infamous war cry from "Sweet Revenge's title song."

"Ladies listen to me..." followed by the d the full tones of an organ and a loud twanging guitar solo. Elliott chuckled.

"Mom!" he smiled.

"Mine too," she grinned. "Listen to that organ... she is really pulling out all the stops."

"And I betcha my mom was doing all manner of hip shakings and hair swaying that would get her arrested at most bars onstage," he laughed. "Although nowadays it would be expected!"

"Did I tell you I play?" she asked. "Keyboard and guitar that is."

"No kidding. Are you any good?" he teased.

"MM," she laughed. "Want to find out? You will if you have one in that apartment of yours. Because I left my synth behind at my grandma's. She suggested I play her something nice..."

"Aha, so you DID leave something at her place," Elliott laughed.

"Indeed. But I left my bass in LA..."

"Is that like leaving your heart in San Francisco?" he joked.

"Ba DUM bum," she imitated a rim shot. "Give the man a prize."

"You know what I found the other day when I was helping mom clean the basement?"

"What?" she asked.

"An old recording of mom and dad singing together...some songs they'd written way, way back."

"Really?" she asked, turning the music down a bit.

"Isn't that wild? Can you imagine what that would fetch on E-bay? Not that I'd ever sell it, but I admit, it gave me chills to hear them once in love." he sighed. "One of them was called Around the Bend..."

"I know," Jeannie sighed. "I wish my parents were together sometimes...but hell it's not a conventional relationship they had is it? Rock god and rock scientist?"

"They were sort of laughing and cutting up between songs," Elliott muttered.

"They were?" she asked.

"You know what's going to be trippy? Some day when I get married, they'll both have to come face to face. They've not spoken in YEARS."

"That's horrible," she sighed. "I wish your parents were friends like mine are..."

"I can just picture a wedding reception and the two of them knocking over tables and throwing cake like a tornado," he laughed. "At least I'll win a prize on one of those video shows."

"Wait till you here this," she laughed. "This isn't an album, it's a demo of rough cuts that mom burned for me..."

"This is AWESOME!" he smiled at a strangely familiar piano solo.

"It's called Diamond in the rough..." she said.

They heard Karen and Raina's voice in a somber duet singing, "I went out on the streets, to earn my living... at the picture show... streets lined with sadness... but what did they know..."

"It sounds a lot like another song we know... doesn't it?" he muttered. Jeannie nodded their unspoken realization in complete agreement.

"It sure does," she finally said.

"I hope some day my band is that good," he sighed.

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it? How much inspiration my mom gave my dad..." he mumbled.

"I wonder sometimes, what if we had come along in the EARLY days, like an accident or something? Getting to live in that old crappy loft, but at least mom and dad were in love, or so I've heard," he sighed a bit.

"I know," she said softly.

"I would love to hear your band, Tiger," she said, resting her hand on his thigh as he shifted gears.

"We're actually supposed to play a gig at some rattletrap bar tomorrow night. I'm going to need to make up a story on why I can't be there. I've GOT to see my dad."

"Bring him with you," she said. "I FIGURED you would be playing somewhere soon. And I also figured you wouldn't mind letting your dear old dad see it..."

"I'll be dead..." he groaned. "Because I KNOW he's going to be critical. And if he deep sixes my band I couldn't take it..."

"So what if he does? That shouldn't stop you from playing for him...."

"Jeannie, are you nuts? I can't let him see my band. Not this week anyway!"

"Why not?"

"Besides our bassist can't make it anyway. We'd might as well just cancel. Not like anyone would be there to see us anyway. And well, because he's... Paul Stanley, for God's sake."

"I can help," she said. "Guess who knows how to play bass remember? And as for him being Paul Stanley So what? He's your FATHER... and

"So what?"

"He's your father. And anyway, you can show him what makes you happy. And I think THAT alone will stand for itself and make him proud of you "

"Jean, have you read ANY of his interviews lately? Every time anyone asks him about a band, he's like, "Well, they're good, but they're NO KISS," he groaned.

"That's what he thinks about EVERYONE."

"So what?" she sniffs. "Are you going to let your father stop you from doing what you want? My dad is also critical of my musical talent but I know, and he's told me this, that no matter what I do as long as I give it 100 percent he'll be proud of me. And he would let me fall flat on my face, but he'd be FIRST in line to pick me up, dust me off and give me a hand if I asked for it."

"And let's face it, we're not that great," he feebly protested.

"Let's prove him wrong," she glared at him, fire in her eyes that astonished and intrigued him.

"Jeannie, I'm not very good!" he yelped.

"I can help," she said, giving his thigh a squeeze. "You know I will... and we'll go down together..."

"And what if he tries to act like he likes it, but he really doesn't?"

"Then his loss," she snorted. "He's not god. He's just a musician, like any other rock star."

Elliott smiled, and shook his head, "To me, he is. Not God, but the absolute standard I have to pass..."

"I know. Like my dad is to me," Jeannie said. "But I want to see the look on my dad's face when he sees US on stage together."

"If you really think we can do this, though. I'd hate to bail on the guys. One has a newborn on the way and could REALLY use the money...our drummer, January. She... well..."

"I think that I want to meet them," she said. "And if they DO suck, and if you guys don't get much money for this gig, I'll pay up the difference myself..."

"Jeannie I couldn't ask you too..." he moaned.

"Daddy gave me money too for this trip. He was thinking I'd go shopping. But I think six hundred dollars would go better to your band fund, don't you?"

"It will be difficult for you to learn our music," he sighed.

"I'm fast at learning," she said. "And that's no lie."

"How fast?" he teases, "We'll have to stay up all night."

"VERY fast..." she smiled.

****

They pulled onto an exclusive street, complete with nice street lamps. She judged it was somewhere in Queens, a bit fancy for college standards.

"Where is your place?" she asked. "This is pretty NICE for a grad student..."

"You're going to make fun of me, but it's in kind of a nice area," he said.

"Wow..." she muttered in appreciation as he pulled into the driveway of one of the walkup townhouses, and stopped the car. Each home had a driveway, and she could guess many had been converted into multiple apartments for the most part.

She waited to see what he would do, and he climbed out first, crossing around the front to open the door for her. She took his offered hand.

"I wonder..." she murmured, glancing up at the home. "How much of this is an apartment..."

"The top floor," he smiled. "All the gables and stuff... makes for nice storage space."

He stopped to pull his jacket out of the back seat. She noticed it was a nice leather jacket like Paul's, and guessed it must have been another Dad present for some weekend. She follows him up two flights of stairs to the top floor.

He's afraid she might question how he could afford it, but knows she probably knows the answer.

She waited for him to unlock the deadbolts, two of them. She commented,

"This reminds me of where Grandma said that your dad lived... as a kid. I mean this kind of home."

"I don't know about that... but it was pretty nice when they did work their way up..."

He opened the door, then flicks on the light to a nice sized sitting room. The green sofa counterpointed the matching armchair, with a coffee table between them. The small entertainment center held a 19-inch TV and DVD player, along with a Dish TV box. To the left of the armchair, she saw a few guitar cases piled, along with a small Marshall Amplifier plugged into the wall. A few distortion petals were neatly set by them, with a music stand. Several doors led off from the main room, and she guessed they must be the bathroom and bedroom. Other doors were perhaps storage space carved out from the eves. Bookcases lined one wall, filled with paperbacks, magazines and a new encyclopedia with the rest of his textbooks.

"This is it" he smiles. "Home sweet home."

"Wow," she commented. "This is larger then most one bedrooms in Beverly, and I happen to share my place with two other girls. We've rented a house..."

"Make yourself at home," he smiled as he walked over to the refrigerator to put their leftovers from dinner.

She closed the door behind them, drawing the deadbolts. Jeanne started to shimmy out of her jacket. Elliott noticed and held out a hanger for her to put it on. He admired the lines of her red minidress, with the white shirt buttoned overtop of it.

"You drink? I've got some beer, some wine coolers, and a bottle of wine, I think."

"I would prefer some diet soda," she said slowly. "I don't drink."

He rooted around the fridge, and fished one out. "Diet RC. Damn, is that OK?"

"That's fine," she smiled. "I hate fresca btw... despite the fact my father helps keep them in business."

He pulled a glass out of the cabinet by the fridge, and put ice in it. Jeannie sat down on the sofa, admiring how tidy the bachelor pad was. She even noticed the small laptop computer setting on the coffee table near a mini keyboard. As he poured her drink, he walks over to the answering machine and pushed a button. There's a message from Karen on there, saying hi.

"You don't have to," she laughed. "Put it in a glass..."

"I insist, you're a guest in my place," he smiled, bringing two glasses of soda out. Jeannie took hers and gulped a swig of refreshing soda.

"May I?" she asked, pointing to his acoustic guitar.

"Sure," he nodded, handing it to her. She took it and the tuner he handed her, carefully checking the notes on the strings before strumming experimentally.

"What I REALLY want is one of those Punisher basses," he said. "I need to talk with your dad about that."

"What bass do you have? That one looks like a Martin..." she commented.

"You know what's weird? Have you seen any KISS trib bands ever?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"I have," she smiled. "I saw Hotter then Hell... when they were playing at my dad's parties in LA. And I've seen a LOT of them... Trib bands that is."

"It's neat to see spitting images of our dads, what they would have looked like years ago," he smiled, sipping his wine cooler.

"I figure some day when dad passes, Evan and I will have a bloodbath, going through all his things. I'm really starting to get into the memorabilia, the old costumes," he admitted.

"I have seen Dad's collection..." she commented. "The warehouses and warehouses of it..."

"As a matter of fact, check THESE out." he winked as he walked to one of the multiple doors. She craned her neck to watch what he was pulling out, and gasped when she recognized the star boots from KISS Cadillac Michigan event.

"Holy SHIT," she gasped, as he walked around with them.

"Dad gave me these last time I was out there," he smiled, showing them off. She leapt up and rushed over to the closet.

"And what's THIS?" she asked, tugging on the plastic garment bag with the matching leotard.

"The other part to the costume," he muttered shyly. "I have the whole thing, and absolutely no idea on how to display it, or even if I WANT to. This is a nice neighborhood, but still, if someone broke in and stole this, I'd be sick. It's the original."

"DO you ever try it on?" she asked, a gleam in her eyes.

He grinned at her, "Nope. Never tried it on."

"And what is this?" she asked, pointing to another bag on a hanger.

"Feathers" he chuckles. "The collar that goes with it... and the armcuffs..."

"Not that... but this... it looks like a Gene costume," she laughs, pulling out a leather shirt and pants. It was the one with a leather harness and spikes, and the matching cloak and boots that went along with it. The pants had a bat design on them, stitched in white thread.

"I thought you were collecting Paul stuff," she teased him.

"I am, but how can you pass THAT up?" he grinned. "Actually your dad gave that to me. I was out in L.A, right before the auction, and he just told me to take it."

"Man, my dad was a bit THIN... back then," she giggled. "This is incredible stuff..."

"I wish I knew what to DO with it."

"I'll show you, what I'd do with it..." she laughed. Jeannie grabbed the boots and leather pants. Leaning on the back of the sofa she tugged her boots off, and shimmied into the pants, then slipped her feet into the killer prototype dragon boots.

He smiled at her struggling into them, and averted his gaze in a gentlemanly manner. The mindress hung over the top, and Jeannie shoved it into the tops of the leather pants and tried walking around the room in the high boots. They were several sizes too large, but she enjoyed stomping and strutting about.

"Damn..." she laughed.

"You're a natural," he grinned.

"Holy shit this is hard to walk in... Never mind they're several sizes too big..."

"Here, let me throw you a bone," he smiles as he pulled off his shoes. He tugged the star boots on, rolling his pantlegs around his calves to shove them into the tall tops. Jeannie tugged the leather harness over her red mindress top and fastened the batwing cloak at her wrists. It amused him to see her shamelessly imitating her father's stomping and stalking around, without any fear of embarrassment or judgement from him.

"Dad's got big-ass feet," he laughed.

"They look good on you," she joked, turning around to see how he looked in the boots. .

"Do I look like him?" he smiled.

"You look good in them, now if you'd lose these glasses," she said, striding up to him and pulling off his black framed glasses.

"Awwwww, now I'm Goin' Blind," he chuckled. He looked at her, winked, and pouted. She couldn't help but admire how dark his eyes were. She imitated her father's tongue waggling, and it freaked him out because she did inherit yet another attribute from her father.

"Somehow that rides the line between sick and wildly erotic" he cooed, as he ran a hand through his hair.

"It's floors the girls when some guys do it, but disgusts others. It freaked the shit out of some of the guys I dated, and I REFUSE to do it as a party trick or a conversation starter... I sometimes have people ask me to show them my tongue," she snorted. "Shit, I feel like a FREAK sometimes."

"I'd ask you to show me your tongue, but I'm afraid you might call me fresh," he said sexily.

"Well I can imagine you could flick guitar picks off YOURS right enough," she laughed.

"I haven't tried, but I guess it's not out of the realm of possibility," he said, scratching his hair.

"Mind if I try out that bass?" she asked.

"Be my guest, Jean," he invited, taking it off the wall and handing it to her. He helped her to fasten it on, and ran the cord to the amplifier for her. When she began to strut about, strumming it, he couldn't help but laugh at how comical she looked. Especially when she widened her eyes, and held the bass at her hip, strumming the opening solo to 100,000 years.

"Hey, I've got an idea! What if I did that tomorrow, spitting picks? Would he like that, or would that be stealing his act?"

"Other guys do it," she laughed.

"True... and I SURELY don't have the tongue to do THAT" he says, motioning at her tongue.

"Play me something," she said, pointing to his guitar case. He pulled out a Silvertone guitar, and plugged it into the amplifier next to her.

"What kind of thing do you like to hear?" he asked shyly, tuning up a bit.

"I wrote a couple things. They're dumb, so feel free to laugh."

"Go ahead..." he said, watching him intently. He still wore the star boots.

He looked down and begins to strum something. It was rough and a little disorganized, but she can tell he has some raw talent. Jeannie listened a bit, and then added her own baseline into the mix.

"I'm terrible with lyrics. My lyrics are AWFUL" he said, over the music.

"I have some I can throw you..." she offered. "Just keep playing..."

He did so, and she began to sing a few lines she had rattling around in her head. She rarely made up anything on the fly. Alto tones smoothly crooned out words that impressed him considerably.

"You're wonderful, Jean" he smiled.

"Would that work?" she asked, after a verse.

"I think I can find some use for it," he said.

"I think another progression on this part would work," she suggested. Reaching across she showed him the fingering.

"I've got a question for all of you..." he said, imitating Paul.

"You sound like him..." she laughed.

"I wanna know..." he drawled. "I wanna knoww-owww-owwwwww...."

Jeannie laughed, holding her side. He put down his guitar for a moment, then rested his hand on his hip, asking, "I wanna know... if we REALLY have to practice all night, or if we can take some breaks?"

"You're beautiful, you know," he asked, striding up to her.

"That's a line," she laughed, putting the bass down.

"It's not," he said quietly. "I'm not suave enough to know any lines..."

"C'mon, I'm a friggin female carbon copy of the demon..." she mumbled. "Plus when you've got a playboy playmate as a stepmom, you can't help but feel a bit... in competition to look your best... you know she helped me pick out my first bra... and my first lipstick. She means well, but sometimes I wouldn't mind running around in jeans and a T shirt..."

"And that's BAD?" he asked.

"I thought it would freak you out," she said shyly. It was very unlike Jeannie, to look down at her feet and mumble.

"I'm not freaked out by you at ALL. Believe me. The only thing that freaks me out about you is the idea that I'd love you in my bed," he said, then blushed. "And I'm hoping to not be a total disappointment."

"Tiger," she blushed, when he glanced down shyly and picked up his guitar to strum again.

He grinned, "I love when you call me that."

She lets out a playful growl, then laughed, "I look silly in this I know."

"My bed isn't that big," he blushed. "Dad got me a HUGE apartment, but a small bed. Think he had a plan?"

"Who says we need a bed?" she winked.

"Again, I repeat... you are gorgeous."

"And you are incredibly handsome," she whispered, running a finger down his arm. He put his guitar down again, and smiled when she ran her fingers over the front of his shirt.

"And I've thought that for years, even when I was seeing Denise," he added.

"Really?" she asked. "I figured you weren't into long distance relationships."

"Yeah. Really," he smiled, fingering her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Well, for awhile, I sort of thought maybe Denise and I would get married, but it wasn't to be. She had some... issues... that we couldn't work out."

"Issues, like what?" Jeannie asks, eyebrow raised. He took her hand and indicated the sofa. Both of them sat down side by side while he continued his story.

"And when it finally collapsed like a deck of cards, you were one of the first people I thought of..."

"I'm flattered," she smiled.

"She... uhhhh..." he sighed. "I hope this won't shock you..."

"Come on, very LITTLE shocks me."

"Her family's really strict, religiously. She had really problems about a physical relationship pre-marriage and when we DID have sex, she felt terrible the next day," he sighed, then hesitated.

"OH man don't you HATE that!" Jeannie groaned.

"It was to the point that after we made love, she'd sit in the shower for half an hour, scrubbing herself red, like she was trying to cleanse herself. And her parents were weird to top it off. And, you know, mine are TOTALLY normal." he teases.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, resting her hand on his arm. "It's not fair."

"Nah, it's OK. When I broke it off, I think both of us were sort of relieved, actually."

"I have a confession," she said softly, shyness again present in her green eyes.

"I want to hear it," he said softly. "Whatever it is."

"I'm not a virgin," she blurted out.

"That's OK" he says softly.

"It is?" she asked.

"Sure. I mean, I'm not," he said. "Despite what some people might think."

"I'm not like... you know... DAD..." she said. "I haven't slept with dozens of men."

He chuckled, "I would hope not, because if you WERE, you'd run rings around me."

She laughed, sounding for a moment like her father, then back to her own natural laugh. He smiled and said, "Some guy would be damn lucky to get you in bed. That's my observation anyway.'

"A woman would be lucky to have you... which leads me to my next question..." she looked at him, then looked at their hands clasped in her lap.

"Anything. Ask away," he grinned at her impishly.

"Uh, are you as... hairy as your old man?" she asked.

He laughed loudly, "That was NOT the question I expected, little lady."

"Sorry," she winced. "I guess I have my dad's big mouth too."

"I thought you were going to ask me if I was seeing anyone," he said as he picked up his guitar. She retrieved the acoustic, and played along with him for a bit.

"Are you?" she asked.

"No" he smiled.

"Good," she laughed.

"You?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" she rolled her eyes. "With big daddy Demon looking over my shoulder? I only had sex at camp... when he wasn't around..."

"I'm glad to hear it... And yeah, I have to say, I've got my share of hair," he smiled. "If that's not TOO gross."

"Not at all. Believe it or not, I think hair on a man is sexy," she said, putting down her bass and rubbing his chest through his shirt.

"There are a lot of people who don't," he sighed, putting the guitar over his lap to hide his sudden arousal.

"They're idiots," she snorted, breathing into his ear. He had a single stud in one ear.

"This is going to sound stupid, but I have to know if this is OK."

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked.

"Well... I don't know... I just want to make sure it's alright with you," he said, unclipping his guitar and putting it down to one side.

"Elliott..." she said, then stopped. "Another confession..."

"Uh-oh. Good or bad?"

"I think..." she whispered, then meet his dark gaze with hers. "I mean that is to say... I've had a crush on you for a long time."

"On ME? You've got to be kidding."

"Would I joke about this?" she asked seriously. "You're a sweet guy. And any woman would be lucky to have you. I just never told you because... Because of my dad...and yours?"

"I think... maybe we really need to just put them behind us."

"Can you?" she asked. "You were lucky, not living in your dad's shadow like me."

"My dad's OK with it, I'm pretty sure. I'm sure he doesn't LOVE that I might be sleeping with his best friend's daughter, but he's pretty cool. He'd just want me to be responsible. Its' YOUR dad we have to look out for."

She looked away, "I love him, but he's always hovering over me. I can't live up to him. I may be Jeannie MacLaren Simmons, but I want to be ME!"

"Part of it might be the guilt over the relationships we were born from. I think that's a big reason why dad loves to shower me with money. It makes him feel a little less bad about living across the damn country."

"I wish I didn't have so much," she muttered.

"And no matter what he says, he STILL feels like my mom took me and vanished when they broke up."

"I wish I had lived with mom sometimes. I hardly ever see her," she sighed. "I mean I love Dad, but... I almost NEVER saw Mom sometimes when she gave me up..."

Elliott reached out and touched her face lightly, saying, "Total opposite of me. My mom clung to me and wouldn't let go. She and dad had a hell of a time working out visitation."

"I envy you." She whispered. "Living away from the fishbowl. I love money and I love the comfortable life, but the glitz and stuff gets to be a bit fake..."

"But then again, I think at that point I was basically a tool to hurt dad... to "punish" him for being unfaithful," he muttered. "You KNOW that's why they broke up, right?"

"Ironic, that my dad who is on the road... is my primary parent, and my mom is always running around the world giving lectures and studying volcanoes..." she muttered. "It's just not fair to you that your mom is ruining what relationship you could have with your dad..."

He sighed at her touch on his face, so tender and delicate, "It's not a big deal. It happens. Dad wasn't faithful, but I'm sure he had his reasons. I get the impression it was broken by that point."

"I think... that your mom did a shitty thing," she blurted out. "Using you against your dad!"

"I wish she'd get over being so angry at him," he sighed. "Because really and truly, he was the best thing that ever happened to her."

"My father... was the best thing to happen to my mom," she said. He smiled at her with a twinkle in his eyes, draping his arm around her shoulders.

"I just had a nutty thought."

"What?"

"What if I invite her to the show tomorrow?" he asked.

"Tiger..." she warned. "Wouldn't it hurt things?"

"What's the WORST that could happen? She'd never throw a public fit...she wouldn't ruin my performance," he asked. "And you KNOW dad wouldn't, Mr. Privacy."

"I don't want you hurt," she said.

"Hell, even if they would just hi to each other, break some of that damn ice. Not like I expect them to fall back into bed, but if they would only reach a point where they wouldn't hate. My dad's not the problem. He forgave her years ago. She's the one."

"Really?" she asked. "What if we played some of the old SR songs?"

"Very nice," he mumbled, stroking his chin. "I mean, we could, right?"

"I mean I'm itching to play Virgin to Love..." she said.

"Absolutely. We have almost 24 hours to learn them," he nodded.

"You mentioned a break," she blushed.

"OK, well, maybe 23. I'm hoping at LEAST an hour we can play around." he whispered.

"I'd like that," she whispered, moving closer to him. She unhitched his guitar and put it down.

"Jean..." he whispered, leaning closer to her and turning her body to face his.

He grinned sexily, and traced her lips with his fingers. She smiled and draped her arms over his shoulders. "One of dad's lyrics just came to mind..."

"What?" she breathed softly into his ear.

"I never knew how much I needed you 'til now" he cooed, in Paul's voice.

"I am trying to think of one..." she mumbled.

"It's the truth," he pouts.

"How about the one about licking my candy cane?" he laughed, Paul's woodpecker laugh, then blushed. "Sorry..."

"How about... put your hand in my pocket..." she whispered. So saying she slipped her hand into his front pocket. He leaned close and pressed his lips to hers. Their arms twined around each other, thighs pressing close on the sofa. He slid his hand into the hem of the leather pants, teasing out the red minidress stuffed into them, and feeling her bare flesh.

He murmured, "Show me how you like a guy to kiss you."

Pulling her hand out of his pocket she puts both arms around his neck, and whispered, "Well you keep you mouth open a bit... not too far..."

His breath smelled like peppermint. He ate a breathmint in the kitchen upon arrival. Softly she brushed her lips over his, and teasingly worked his mouth open with the tip of her tongue.

"Like this, of course" he whispered back. She smiled against his lips, and eases her tongue into his mouth slowly. He moaned softly, vocal like Paul, probably even more so since he was inexperienced. She reached down his back to squeeze his butt, pinching it through his jeans.

"Do you work out?" she asked.

"Uh, sometimes... Do you want to go somewhere else?" he whispers in her ear, panting already.

"Mmm?" she asked. Into the back of his pants, she slid his hand playfully. He unbuckled the top part of the costume she was trying on and tugged it off, then lifted the edge of her miniskirt. She smiled and raised her arms so he could lift the dress up and over her head, helping him undo the fastenings clumsily.

"You're making me nuts" he breathes as he reaches down to kiss her. He gasped at the sight of her black lace bra, curving over full and very natural breasts, not the round softballs he had seen in some of the Hollywood women in pictures, or even those of the actresses in some of the X rated movies he had sneaked from some of his friends. She ran her hands over his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly.

"You're a sexy minx when you put your mind to it," she chuckled.

"I want to say something about how nice it is to have a willing subject, but I'm afraid you'll smack me," he winked.

"Mmm, fur," she smiled, rubbing his chest a bit. He lifted his arms to let her pull the sleeveless undershirt up and off. Her hands ran through his chest hairs, and he threw his head back for a moment to savor her touch.

"King Kong?" he teased.

"I like it..." she whispered.

"And I like what I see too. As a matter of fact, I want to see more," he breathed into her ear, sucking on her earlobe.

"Do you?" she winked saucily at him. He fumbled at her bra hooks, and she turned around to give him better access to undo them. He continued to fumble for a moment, embarrassed.

"It's ok," she whispers, standing up. He did so as well, reaching around to see how it fastened.

"Hang on, let's get closer to the light," he says, pulling her toward the moonlight. "Take a guy's glasses and he can't SEE..."

"Like this... this is a 38 D, and it's got four hooks, not two," she laughed, shedding the bra with her back to him.

"Turn around," he whispered to her. "Please. It's OK" She did so, teasingly slowly, arms over her chest and a smile on her face. "A little more" he smiles shyly. She did so, turning all the way around arms over her breasts. Slowly she lowered them to reveal her bare chest. He smiled broadly.

"Damn, gorgeous." He gasped in appreciation. "I can't believe someone like YOU would have a crush on me."

"Why not?" she asked, holding out her arms to him. She rubbed his chest, feeling the abundant hair, so much like Paul's hair.

"Where should we go?" he panted. "I mean, is there somewhere... since my bed's just a full, not a queen or anything..."

"Where do you have in mind?" she asked. She saw the star on his shoulder, with the small crescent moon inside. For a moment she peered over his shoulder and saw tribal markings spanning the length of his shoulder blades.

He lightly walked his fingers up and down her body. Before she turned around he couldn't help but notice the Chinese dragon curling around the small of her back in a half belt. Elliott wrapped his arms around her and slowly begins to walk her backward toward the couch.

"Let me guess.... That ones for dad?" he smiled. She laughed, and fingered his star.

"Ok, OK, guilty as charged."

She reached for his belt buckle, and he put his hands on hers, saying, "Let the record show...you can do whatever you want. Don't be shy on my account."

She smiled and slowly unfastens his belt, then unbuttoned his pants to slip her hands inside. She has a look of mischief on her face as she touches him for the first time, through his underwear. "It's not much" he blurts out.

"According to whom?"' she lifted an eyebrow, then guided his hands to her breasts.

"Uh, I don't know. Just seemed the thing to say," he blushed profusely. Tentatively he fingered her breasts. She could tell from his hesitation that his former girlfriend didn't want to let him do much.

"Don't sell yourself short, mister," she winked, stroking him harder. "Don't be afraid to touch me..."

"God, that feels so incredibly good," he moaned.

"It feels good here too," she winked. He began to massage her breasts harder. She slowly unzipped his pants and knelt before him. Kissing to his belly, and slides his pants down. He watched her, with dark eyes as she slipped his underwear down. He shut his eyes tightly for a second. Nibbling on the inside of his thigh, she reached to cup him for a moment.

"I'll...I'll try to hold off..." he started. "Shit, I can't resist this though..."

"Shh," she whispered. "Relax and let me do the work... You'll have PLENTY of times to cum over and over again before I"M through..."

He bit his tongue hard, stifling the moan. "Shh," she whispered, slowly rubbing him and licking him for the first time.

"Hmmm," he moaned as he twined his fingers in her hair. Slowly she slid him into her mouth, and began the slow teasing that his other girlfriend would never dare try. "GODD, oh GOD..." he moaned, sucking in his breath at the first feel of her. Her tongue and hands worked him slowly at first, then faster in perfect rhythm.

"Oh, damn..." he cried softly, as she pulled his hips with her hands and worked him progressively deeper till he touched the back of her throat. Fingers tightened on the back of her neck, gripping her head tightly. She raked his thighs with her nails, which are long.

"I'm gonna...oh jeez...oh, Jeannie...." he moaned. She squeezed him hard to encourage him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, hoping to hold out, but knowing he can't. She buried him in her throat. "It's.... Oh... hell... oh... Jean..."

He pulled her head tightly toward him, pistoning in and out as he cries.

Jeannie guides him, hands on his hips, back and forth. Moaning with him in her mouth. Elliott hissed loudly as he feels himself beginning to reach orgasm.

She knew exactly what to do, he marveled, at least what seemed to drive him wild.

"Ohhhh..." he yelled, in total bliss. She shivered realizing he sounds exactly like his father onstage with a yell. He held her tightly in amazement, shivering with the impact as she swallowed his excitement. Manicured fingernails stroked his backside encouragingly, embracing his waist as she pressed her cheek to his belly.

He pulled away suddenly, unsure of what to think. She looked up at him, question in her eyes. "Oh, lord," he breathed heavily. "That was..."

"You mean you've never had a girl do that?"

"I've NEVER cum like that." he gasped. She smiles and struggled to get up. He regarded her in shock then reaches a hand out. "Oh, Jeannie, I don't think I'm ever letting you move back to L.A. again."

"How will I fly THAT past my dad?" she asked, tugging herself up with his help. They embraced, burying their heads in each other's shoulders. In their boots, they were almost exactly the same height.

"I don't know," he said, after a while. "And I almost don't care."

"Help me take this pants off," she urged. He helped her to shimmy out of them and the tall boots. "I can't wait to see you naked."

Soon she only wore garter belt, stockings and her lacey panties. He gasped, "VERY sexy."

"Shannon," she blushed. "Taught me how to dress."

"You're going to give me heart failure, you know" he teased.

"Oh stop," she teased.

"I'm NOT kidding, you know. If that LAST stunt didn't do it, nothing will" he smiled. "Now, I'd just like to say... That it's time to spoil YOU."

"Wait, let me help you to get this off, first," she said, tugging his pants. Together they rid him of the boots, and he pulled her back to the couch to sit down.

"I don't think this is EXACTLY how dad intended these to be used," he laughed, finally in nothing before her, except the golden crucifix hanging around his neck, partly buried in the thick hair of his chest.

"That's pretty," she said, fingering it.

"It's a bone of contention" he whispered, holding his hand out to her. "But beyond all the bull, I wear it because I like it."

"Mom didn't bother to raise me any religion," she said at first. "But then I started learning about my Jewish heritage. Over time I started going to the synagogue, despite my dad's lack of encouragement in the religion, he was touched I wanted to learn about the history and culture. Eventually my mom started getting interested in it too..."

"I was raised strictly Catholic. For the longest time, I didn't even realize dad was another religion," he shrugged sadly. "I know it bothers dad, her not exposing me to both."

"My dad's not very religious, but I got him to get me bat mitzvah," she said.

"Ray was thrilled."

"I'm glad you did," he smiled, pulling her to sit on his lap. "It would have been nice to have been raised with both ideals."

"She had found me a synagogue to belong to and all... I kept going, despite my dad saying I didn't HAVE to," she nodded. "I have little of my mom's religion. She hasn't set foot in a church in YEARS. In fact, she converted. To piss her parents off."

"My mom still goes. Whenever I go visit her, she INSISTS on dragging me along," he chuckled. He was enjoying the down time a bit, so he can regenerate, and Jeannie sat next to him, basking in the comfort of their shared conversation.

"Funny that I should care about religion, since my dad isn't really," Jeannie laughed. "But I DO believe in it. This letter... it means life. It's a chai. He DID teach me Hebrew..."

"If we had children, how would we raise them?" he asked. "Assuming, of course, your father wouldn't kill me first."

"I don't know," she said softly. "Since my mom converted, officially I AM Jewish. At least according to the reforms and the conservatives."

"My mom doesn't really have a problem with the Jewish RELIGION. She just has a problem with dad," said Elliott sadly.

"Yeah," she smirks sadly. "Funny that I should be this way. If mom had stayed with that jerk Mark... I would probably have been miserable... and bruised black and blue."

He leans over to hug her, "Thank GOD he didn't."

"Thank God indeed," she nodded.

"Answer me this..."

"What Tiger?" she asked.

"If you, say, found out I was cheating on you, you'd be mad, right, but would you be SOOOO mad that you'd have me for 24 years?"

"No," she said. "Not at all."

"They must have had some kind of intense relationship. They must have loved each other a hell of a lot," he mumbled. "To feel so betrayed. When I feel bad, I think about that."

"You were created out of love," she reminded him.

"Maybe part of why my mom hates my dad so bad is because she once loved him so intensely."

"Love and hate..." she sighed. "Razor's edge. Mom did at one time almost hate my dad, for trying to help her. But she never truly HATED him."

"I still think sometimes if I could just get them together.... They'd talk enough not to hate."

"I know it's a beautiful wish, but every child of divorced parents has that fantasy," she reminded him.

"I know," he said quietly. "It just seems like EVERYONE ought to be able to sit down and at LEAST talk."

Knowing she had to distract him, she stood up again, turning around to unfasten her last pieces of clothing. He watched her intently, whistling lightly as the last piece of clothing joined the others on the floor. His dark brown eyes crawled up and down her body. She glanced over her shoulder to see his excitement again becomes evident.

Very slowly she turned, raising her arms and running her hands through her hair. He notices the navel ring she wears, then saw a tattoo on her thigh.

Celtic markings fused into a Star of David.

"Absolutely, positively gorgeous' he cooed to her. "I can't believe you don't have a list of dates in L.A. a mile long."

"I do, but they run away when they hear my last name," she said, lowering her arms and standing in front of him.

"Their damn loss."

"When they find out who my DAD is," she said shyly, sitting down beside him. "They think that means I'm a slut. Like father, like daughter."

"I'm not afraid of your dad, Jean. I mean, I guess I AM to some degree, but not afraid enough to lose you."

"I'm scared for yours," she said slowly. "I don't think... Julia is ready for a serious relationship. I can't help but watch people... I can SEE it..."

"I KNOW you're right," he said, stroking her back.

"She seems to me like she's scared of SOMETHING," Jeannie commented.

"Dad's usually really secretive about who he dates. I only met Pam once before he called to say he's getting married."

"Remember when I flew in for Peter's wedding a few years back and you told me how sexy I looked in my suit" he cooed in her ear.

"Yes," she whispered, climbing into his lap.

"You told me I looked just like my dad."

"You do," she whispered. "If you grow your hair out..."

"I wanted you then," he whispers, hotly.

"You did?" she asked.

"Yeah, I just didn't try anything," he winked. "Too nervous. Besides, I think your dad caught on."

"Mmm," she whispered. "You aren't now are you?"

"A little actually," he admitted. "Because I'm thinking you're used to guys who have done more..."

"I like this," she whispers. "It's sweet..."

"But I can tell you NO guy has ever wanted you more."

"What would he say to THIS?" she laughs. "My dad that is?"

"He'd probably kill me, then kill my dad for producing me."

"Mmm," she smiled, hands on his shoulders as she slipped overtop of him. She moaned softly, feeling him inside her. He moaned as well, enjoying the feel of her.

"You and I fit perfectly," she whispered. "Like a glove."

"You are so hot, Jean," he panted. "So very soft."

"And you are HARD, rock hard."

"I wonder why...." he groaned. "You make me feel like doing this all night."

"You can," she whispered. "Wait a minute... protection..."

"Yes," he groaned. She soon returned, and then he felt the latex pulling down over him. She soon resumed her position, hands on his shoulders. He moaned again, enjoying the feel of her.

"Oh shit I HAD to grab one of THESE!" she giggled, looking at the wrapper, and then showed it to him.

"He would DIE!" Elliott chortled. "What the hell."

He thrust up into her, more aggressively this time, enjoying how she can handle his passion. She rocked her hips against him, not lying still like Denise had done. Fire twinkled in her green eyes, real desire for him, not having to be coerced and coaxed. He knew she wouldn't feel guilty about this in the morning, and it gladdened him to be truly wanted by his woman. In her throat, she purred low, between moans and gasps. How well he did fit her, far more so then the other men she had dated, and made love to, the passion and desire genuine and sweet, not performed or forced to conform to some standard they think she wanted them to uphold. He continued to rock against her, pulling her tightly close to him. She rode him, hands on his shoulders.

"Jeannnnnnnn..." he moaned, louder this time.

"Lay me down," she gritted between her teeth. He turned and lay her across the sofa. She leaned down and he was stunned to see her lift one leg up and drape it over his shoulder. He resumed his thrusting, glancing down at how deeply she was enjoying the new position.

"Harder," she hissed with passion. HE moaned and continues to pummel her harder, biting his lip.

"Don't' be afraid to push HARD!" she gasped.

"Is this where it feels good?" he panted. "Is this what you WANT?"

"Yes, oh GOD yes..." she whispered. "RIGHT THERE!"

He pushed hard against the spot she likes, faster and faster. Glad to have guidance at last for the mysteries to unlock a woman's pleasure center. She was letting him into the mysteries of her body, guiding him to where she most liked his attentions. Muscles clenched around him and he heard her first low moan.

"Jeez, oh Jean, cum...It's.... I want you harder!" he gritted. "Fuck me..."

She moved harder and harder, and then suddenly came again, making a loud scream.

Her nails bit into his shoulder, her legs wrapping around him tightly in a full erotic embrace. He yelled in passion as he feels her come and reached climax himself, her name sounding loudly in the apartment.

He heard her scream VERY loudly overtop his yell, sounding almost like Gene's yell in Unholy at the end. Her head was thrown back; her back arched and mouth wide open, tossing her hair from side to side. As he came down he began to kiss her neck wildly, unwilling to want to let her go. She leaned up and bit his neck, burying her last orgasm in it. Her last kiss buried her tongue deeply in his mouth.

***