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!

Jeannie nibbled on the bagel slathered in cream cheese, and silently grumbled when half the poppy seeds fell off it into the interior of Elliott's car. She washed it down with a sip of hot coffee, purchased in the same deli not far from where Elliott lived.

"Sorry about the mess," she apologized.

"Don’t sweat it," Elliott smiled at her. "Besides, that's what jiffy lube is for . . . they vacuum your car for you and everything . . . "

"So, what is this band of yours like?" Jeannie asked.

Elliott turned to her and smiled ruefully, "A weird cast of characters, to be perfectly honest."

"Hmm, sounds interesting . . . " Jeannie mused. "Could I get their names maybe?"

"Uhhhh, well, Janice, she's our drummer. She's a little out there, if you know what I mean. Oh yeah, and she's pregnant."

"Ah," Jeannie nodded.

"And don't make any cracks about a pregnant woman on a drum stool or she'll deck you."

"I'll be sure not to mention anything like that," Jeannie laughed, taking another bite of her bagel.

"Sounds like Sharon Osborne," she joked.

"Have you met her?" he asked.

"Can't say much for her singing voice, but she's got a lot of spirit? She makes a great punk star . . . which I know she isn't aiming for . . . " Jeannie laughed.

"I hope she didn't hear you say that!" Elliott groaned. "Well in my band . . . Kyle's our lead. He's a bit of an ass, but he can be a good musician..."

"Well, you guys don't have to be best friends," she laughed.

"Oh and one more thing... all the chicks want him," he winked.

"Hmm, I hate arrogant lead guitarists..." she muttered.

"You're in for a treat then, baby," he smiled.

"Oh shit," Jeannie sighed.

"The RUMOR is that Jan's baby's father is Kyle, but me, I don't believe it."

"Well, it's a rumor, but it's not my business... how about the other member who's sick?" Jeannie asked. "You said he played bass and keyboards?"

"Bill. He's the reason you're here," he smiled.

"Ah," she said.

"And he's sick. Actually, he's been sick for a while," he said sadly.

"I'm sorry," she said, as he pulled into a street lined with run down buildings. They were the ghosts of old apartments and office spaces, near several old style theaters. Nestled between a XXX bookstore and the Cat Club was an old movie theater called the Roxy. She saw the cracked sign bearing several band names, and took a guess at what their name was.

"I don't think they expect it to get any better" he said sadly. "Sometimes he's up to playing and sometimes he's not."

"Cancer?" she asked.

"Ummmmm, no, not exactly."

"HIV?" Jeannie guessed

"He won't really talk about it, but...that's what they say."

 "What a dump," Jeannie commented of the theater. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it's hard."

"I know he's got a boyfriend. He won't fess up to it, but the guy's always around him."

"I know, but that isn't an issue..." Jeannie said.

"He's a hell of a person. I just wish he didn't have to go through this shit."

"Gay people are cool by me . . . and it sucks when people think AIDS is a punishment of their choice."

"Kyle doesn't like it. He doesn't like Bill around because of whom he is," Elliott sighed. Then he waited a moment. "This band isn't it for me. I know that. I guess it's a matter of waiting for something else to come around. I mean, how many dumb bands was my dad in before he found The One? At least two or three."

"My dad was in at least three..." Jeannie laughed. "My first band I was in was called Blind Leading the Blinder... and in college I had a band called Blockbuster... but we broke up six months ago... and now I'm in one called Firestarter... we just got together..."

"I'm not surprised. You're really quite good. Better than ME."

"And the NAME of your band? I would like to not fly blind here," Jeannie further queried, glancing up at the sign under the letters ROXY. "I am hoping it's not Morning Wood or Ultimate Wet Dream. What does CBS stand for?"

"Uh, we're called Crash, Bang, Smash. We call ourselves CBS... you'll see," he laughed.

"That name sucks ass," Jeannie said. "I mean no offense... but..."

"I didn't think of it," he said quickly. "About the other bands you were saying..."

"I started in high school with Blind leading blinder . . . Keyboards and stuff . . . I even write my own music . . . " she said shyly. "It's not as good as my dads... or my mom's."

"Hold on a minute," he said, motioning for her to wait as he unclipped his seat belt and got out of the car first. He dashed around to the side of the car and quickly opened her dor for her.

"Thank you," she smiled, taking his hand to let him help her out.

"I'm terrible at writing lyrics. Music is a snap. I’ve got tunes running around in my brain a lot. But lyrics... forget it! How the hell did THAT happen? My dad is Paul Stanley and I can't even write a decent refrain."

"You write MUSIC, but not lyrics?" she asked. "Maybe you need help? Who writes your band's music now?"

"Kyle mainly. It's his band for all intents and purposes," Elliott sighed.

"Ah," she said, following him as he pulled one case out of the trunk, then set it on the ground. He then extracted the other case, which she guessed was his backup guitar.

"Did you ever think of starting your own band?" she asked him, taking the one case from him.

"I have, I guess. I just don't know when I'll have the time. School keeps me pretty nuts, and I try to get up to see mom at least once a month," he explained hastily. "And I've been sort of working on my car."

"Maybe you need someone who knows how to manage one?" she suggested. They crossed around to the back of the movie house, and Jeannie shuddered at the flaking paint peeling off the back doors. He banged on them, and the door was heaved open by a kid who couldn't have been more then 17 at the most, regarding Elliott with a wary look.

"I'm one of the bands tonight," Elliott said. "And this is my girlfriend . . . "

"They're rehearsing . . . " the kid said. "Right in there . . . "

As Jeannie stepped through the door, she felt the kid's eyes walking over her body. It didn't bother her, but she shot him a quick look that said, "Don't even try it little boy."

He quailed and bolted upstairs, belts chain jingling as he ran. The funk of dust and an ancient pot smell assaulted her nostrils, with the smell of rotting wood. In the darkness the space opened out onto a backstage area, with rackety stairs leading up to what must be dressing rooms. She saw a drum kit already onstage, behind which sat a girl with shoulder length blonde hair, streaked with black and pink that fell more than one side of her face. She wore a white sweater loose overtop a tight tank top, her belly curving gracefully with the evidence of her pregnancy. Loose bell bottomed pants swept the floor, and her gum popped as she clanged her stick against one cymbal. Piercing ran up and down her ears, and her tongue, cheeks and nose were studded with silver.

"Damn this place is ANCIENT..." Jeannie commented.

"I don't know. There's a part of me that thinks, What's the point?"

"Elliott, why NOT?" Jeannie asked him.

"Because no matter what I do or how hard I try, it will never rival KISS. And besides even if I DO get big, everyone would say, "Oh, it's because you're PAUL's son"."

"Aww man," she sighed.

"Hey Ell!" the girl behind the drum set shouted, putting her sticks into a caddy on one side of her drum kit.

"Jan," he smiled, setting his guitar cases down. Jeannie stood by Elliott as he opened up his case and tossed his coat overtop a piece of nearby scenery.

"I mean, how dumb is it to drag my dad down to some rattle trap club tonight to hear me and a bunch of idiots--- no offense of course-- try to act like we have talent."

On the other side of the stage Jeannie heard the buzzing of one of the Marshall amps. A loud twanging burst of the cacophony assaulted her ears when she saw the skinny youth in a baseball cap with spiked hair and fuzzy goatee ripping off a few riffs. His shorts were baggy, same style as Elliott's cargo pants, and his bare hairy legs had tribal markings running down them. Red shoes with white circles on them completed the outfit, and his tan t shirt hung loose on his body. Several piercing on his eyebrows and ears almost matched with that Jan had.

"YOU have talent. None of the rest of us do" he said, watching his band mates.

To their right, a guy with dark hair, close shaven with no goatee sat with a bass. He coughed deeply, his thick cable knit sweater hanging loosely on his slender body. Pallid skin showed the signs of a few sores, dark circles under his eyes. Evidently this was Bill, who had seen better days. Even his bell-bottomed jeans seemed to hang on his legs like a circus tent, swallowing him up in them as he sat there.

"Why don't you bugger out, sickly?" Kyle teased. "Don't want you to cough yourself to death dude..."

Elliott walked over and plunked his guitar on its stand, grunting, "Hey..."

Elliott glared at Kyle for a moment, dark eyes flashing their warning. Kyle shot him a look back and asked, "What, I was busting his chops!"

Jeannie strode over to bill, guitar case in hand and smiled, "I'm Jeannie. Nice to meet you."

Bill glanced up at her and smiled warmly, gladly accepting her handshake. He said, "Nice to see you too. I'm Bill. I take it you're here with Ell?"

"Who's the hot chick?" Kyle asked, whistling at Jeannie. She turned around, green eyes alert, a hint of a sweet, but challenging smile on her face. The sort of a look that clearly meant she was not to be trifled with by some mere kid who had a high opinion of his charisma with the ladies.

"She's different," Jan smiled. "Killer threads."

Elliott waved to Jan and motioned Jeannie to stand next to him. Amused she did so, and glanced at the band around her. She felt him drape his arm over her shoulder as if staking his claim, and he said loudly, "Guys, this is Jeannie. My girlfriend."

Bill smiled at Elliott and raised a teasing eyebrow at the word "girlfriend."

"Jeannie huh?" asked Kyle. "What's a babe like you doing with a stiff like him?"

"I've heard about you," Jan smiled, getting up and crossing over to shake Jeannie's hand.

"Have you?" Jeannie asked smoothly. "I've heard about you as well. Jan, right?"

"That's right," she nodded.

"She's going to fill in, since Bill's not feeling well, and she's GREAT, so it shouldn't be an issue, right?"

"Hey, I think that's great..." Bill smiled.

"Baby, you sure got the looks enough to play with us," said Kyle, striding up with his guitar already belted on, and walking a half circle around Jeannie.

"In CASE you didn't notice, I SAID girlfriend!" Elliott glowered. Jeannie walked over and put down her guitar case.

"So where do I plug in?" she asked, extracting the guitar that Elliott had stopped by her grandmother's house to pick up. They saw the words BC Rich on the small shield shaped bass, and a lightbulb seemed to go on in Jan's mind.

"Hey baby, I'm talking to you, sweet thing..." Kyle moved over and stood in her way. "Right this way..."

"Uh, I thought so," she said, and pushes him lightly back with one finger as she plugged into the amp with her other hand. "But easy boy, I think I'm here for other reasons..."

Elliott walks up to him, angrily, snapping, "Keep your freakin' pecker in your goddamn pocket, KYLE!" he hissed.

"Uh oh," Bill muttered to Jan.

"She's here for only one reason and that's to help us out!" Elliott hissed at Kyle.

"Okay man, it's cool," he threw up his hands, backing off to his own quadrant of the stage.

"Do you have to fucking MAKE every woman you see?" Elliott glared at him.

"Didn't figure you getting a girl THAT stacked..." he whispered.

"Boys, to business?" Jan shouted. "WE gotta SHOW in case you didn't know..."

Elliott stalked over and picks up his guitar. It was a new one, a Washburn millennium guitar from Paul. JEannie's eyes bugged out at the sight of it, for she had not yet seen this gem. Bill motioned for Jeannie to step over, and she did so, wireless amp buzzing with power.

He had set up his Yamaha synth next to his guitar rack, which held an old Gibson bass. "You play keyboards?" he asked her.

"Yes," she nodded. "Yamaha's especially..."

"You can use my synth," Bill offered. "Nice bass by the way... it's a Punisher, right."

"That's what it said," she smiled sweetly. "I was thinking I'd use it on rabid boy if he gets too close..."

"Last name's Simmons, right?" he whispered.

"How did you know?" she asked carefully, not sure if being the known daughter of a celebrity would damn or assist her cause with Elliott.

"Ell's mentioned you," he whispered. "Not by last name. But you look a LOT like your dad... and I figured with the bass..."

"Don't hold it against me," she winked.

"Not at all. I think it's great..." Bill smiled.

"Did everyone who was SUPPOSED to practice actually DO it this time?" Elliott shouted at Kyle.

"I did," Bill coughed.

"You're probably the only one," Elliott grumbled.

"You think I'm not able to play, dude?" Kyle asked, picking up a Stratocaster. Jeannie gave Bill an amused grin when she heard him trying to pick out the beginning strains of Never Again by Nickleback, but failing miserably.

"I think you probably didn't practice that part in Creature that you kept fucking up last week," said Elliott, adding his own warmups to the mix. His long fingers flew magically over the strings, stiffening up a bit, but still doing justice to the chords.

"I was working on New Kings of the Nighttime world..." he snapped. "Which you can't get the bridge rhythm RIGHT on, dude!"

"WHAT?" Jeannie asked Bill. "What song is THAT?"

Elliott's head snapped up a bit too at her question. Bill strummed a few notes, putting a bass line together on his Gibson Grabber. "We're working on updating an old KISS song," Elliott said to her, begging her to be quiet.

"It's a simple chord progression baby," Kyle winked at Jeannie, and trotted over to show it to her.

"QUIT calling her baby" Elliott gritted.

"It doesn't sound like it," she said. Jan watched both of them and rolled her eyes comically.

"It should go like THIS..." she said, and started playing a fair imitation of it on the synthesizer.

"Uh huh?" Kyle asked.

"Kyle, have some respect for Elliott and quit calling his girlfriend sexy names" Bill sighed.

"That doesn't work right..."

"Uh huh, coming from you, that's hardly a threat," Kyle laughed at him.

Elliott helplessly watched Jeannie wrangling with Kyle over chords, knowing he was a bit out of his league.

Bill stood up, "You have a PROBLEM with me, Carmichael?"

"Sit down, pretty boy," Kyle said.

"I think this would work better..." Jeannie said to Kyle, and played a riff.

"Let's PLEASE just practice!" Elliott sighed.

"Best idea yet!" Jan snapped, clicking her sticks together. Bill flopped down on his chair, frustration all over his face.

"What song first?" Elliott asked.

Jeannie patted Bill on the shoulder. "don't let him bug you," she whispered.

"Road to Phoenix." Elliott snapped. "NO ONE has that one down yet."

"ONE TWO THREE!" Kyle shouted. Jan started with a loud pounding beat.

Bill filled in on bass, followed by Kyle's entry riff. Jeannie listened to the chord progression, eyes half shut. It seemed simple enough, despite the complex lines Kyle was throwing out.

Elliott began to play. Jeannie was amused to notice he uses the same spread leg, knees together stance that his father uses on occasion.

Jeannie started to pick up and fills up the lines with her improvization on the yamaha, tossing back and enhacing what they have.

Kyle looked flustered, glancing back at Jeannie on keyboards. STrangely the new fills covered up the rough spots. Lyrics spun out as Elliott and Bill delivered them to the hard driving crunch of the lead and rhythm lines.

Suddenly Bill began to cough violently, holding his side. Elliott turned to him in sympathy, slowing down as if to ask him if he wants to stop. He waved his hand, urging them on despite his condition, till Jeannie reached his side and held him up as he began to shake.

"SHIT!" Kyle gritted.

"Stop the music!" Jeannie shouted. Jan's drums clattered to a stop, while Elliot's head snaped up listening to the command in ehr voice.

"EXCUSE me?" Kyle asked, glaring at Jeannie. "Did I SAY stop?"

"Bill, you OK?" Elliott said, beginning to walk over to him.

"I'm just... out of breath," he gasped.

Kyle stormed up to Jeannie, who helped Bill into his chair snapping, "since when do YOU call the shots, MISSY?"

"Since your bassist is ready to pass out!" she shot back.

"Kyle, did you come today just to BITCH?" Elliott yelled. "We have a damn show TOMORROW night and if we don't work this out NOW, we're going to look STUPID. And I for one have FAMILY there tomorrow night and I will NOT look dumb. I fucking WON'T" he glares.

"We need to sound GOOD damn it, and I don't need some RICH BITCH telling me what to do!" Kyle pointed at her.

"EXCUSE ME!" JEannie snapped. "You have a problem with me, you say it now, or so help me, shut up!"

Elliott lunged at him as if to punch him, hollaring, "You have NO RIGHT! SHUT UP!"

"Wait a minute!" Bill cried, grabbing Eliott. Kyle tripped and fell over his stand, landing on his butt.

"You apologize right FUCKING now!" Elliot howled, held back by Bill. Jan moved over to get between Kyle and Elliott.

"Stay out of this, Eisen cube!" he yelled at Elliott.

"Or Jeannie and I will leave and you're all screwed!" Elliott yelled.

"She's Gene fucking SIMMONS daugher! What should I expect? She's fucking LOADED! ARen't you, sweet cheeks? Too GOOD for us?" Kyle taunted.

"So what if she is, you'd better watch it around her, or kiss your chance goodbye!" Jan yelled at him.

"Are you baby? You wanna prove it, girly?" Kyle taunted.

"You watch it, asswipe," Jeannie snarled at him, pushing past Jan and shoving Kyle down with her boot. She pinned him under the heel, glaring at him with green eyes that spat sparks.

"LEt me go... holy shit..." Kyle gasped as Jeannie ground her boot into his chest harder.

"These boots were made for walking, creep, and I'll walk all over you if you don't shut the hell up..." Jeannie hissed at him. "Don't think I can't take care of myself..."

"SHIT!" Kyle wailed. "Get her off me! the Broad's a psycho!"

"Stop it now KYLE!" Jan yelled at him. "BACK OFF, or I'll let her kick your skinny sorry ass!"

"You know what??? She IS too good for you!" Elliott glared. "This is her vacation and she comes down to help us out and THIS is how you treat her."

"I'm getting off you now, and we're gonna forget about this," Jeannie said. "Because it's not worth it. It's only because I'm here with Elliot I'm even going to consider playing with you..."

She moved back, and let him up. He shakily climbed to his feet, visibly freaked by her. Moving over to Elliott he whispered, "You banging this slut, pansy ass?"

"Excuse the fuck me. Maybe it would just be better if we let her go and try to pull some crackhead off the street to play bass," Elliot hissed.

"The only crackhead I see is you, and this girl of yours! How much is she worth?" Kyle taunted. Elliot thrust him away with a hard push, then grabbed his guitar, holding it up over his head to bring it down on Kyle.

Jan screamed as they circled. However Jeannie grabbed Elliot's hand, staying his blow, "Stop it, it's not worth it..."

Elliot let her, but he was absolutely steamed. Kyle backed away, scuttling like a crab to clambor to his feet. "She's right, Ell. Don't waste that beautiful guitar."

"Mother fucker," Kyle growled. He walked away, shaking his head.

"COOL it now," Jan said, moving over ot him and speaking to him quietly. He shook his head grumbling and cursing as his face flushed red iwth anger. Elliott didn't hear the conversation that passed between them, but Kyle soon stopped and glared at them, chest heaving in anger.

"Better apologize, before Eliott pounds your ass," Jan said to him.

"I'm sorry, okay," he said grudgingly to Jeannie and Elliot. "Let's just play..."

"Are we going to do this show tomorrow or not?" Elliott glared at Kyle.

"Fine, fucking WHATEVER," he hissed. "Let's just do it. But the girl does it OUR way."

"Bill, if you can't sing, we're going to have to teach Jeannie the lines," Elliot said quietly.

"That's okay..." Bill nodded.

"Fine, whatever you say," Kyle gritted. "Just let's fucking play."

"I'm sorry, man. It's just that we can't do this in front of a whole crowd of people. That is, if we even have a CHANCE in hell of having a crowd tomorrow," said Elliot.

"Bill, let the girl sing your songs," Kyle gritted. "Let's see if she can do what her old MAN puts out or not..."

Jeannie glared at Kyle, I'll nail your ass tonight. And prove it to you i can bury you."

Elliott looks up from his guitar, glaring at Kyle again, "Jeannine SINGS it. She's got the best voice for this sort of song."

"Fine," Kyle gritted. "Prove it, missy. And it's BASS, not keyboard crap."

"Besides, when you try to sing high notes, you sound like you have your balls in a vice," he muttered, causing Jan to chuckle.

Bill hands his bass to Jeanie, who looks at it in reverence.

She straps it on, adjusting it, and held it up to glance at her fingers in the frets, reminisceent of how her father did occasionally.

"She must be some good tail, Eisen," Jan smirked. Elliott turned around and grinned sarcastically at her. Jeannie followed the cues that Bill gaves her, picking up the bassline for the next song, Runabout.

Elliott watches her play, astonished at how good she is. She remembered them flawlessly, delivering a nice steady bassline that added well to Jan's drumming. She unconsciously stompped and leapt a bit like Gene in his demon routine, flicking her hair and tossing it.

Kyle started to shred on the solo bridge, picking up the pace and daring everyone to follow. Jeannie easily kept up, adding a few bass flourishes that stunned them. She belted out the lyrics as fast as she could, Sweat pouring off her forhead.

Elliott turned to Jan and they both shared a smile. Bill is smiling at her, admiring how well she played. Enjoying the challenge, Elliot added his own stylings to them mix, waiting for the sonic tug of war to resolve.

Kyle drove louder and faster, his fingers flying at warp speed. Jeannie threw out a complicated bassline that he did not expect, throwing him off the basic count. Her last line rumbled through the club like thunder, vibrating the stage under their feet. Elliott chuckled to himself as he saw her breeze past Kyle.

He sneaked a look with Bill, who grinned, with thumbs up. Finally the song ended, and everyone caught their breath. "Damn..." Kyle gasped, wiping off his forhead, and picking up a bottle of jack d.

"Shit girl, I stand corrected," he said, tipping the bottle in reverence to her. "I take back ALL i said... truce?"

"Truce," Jeannie nodded, walking up. He poured some jack D into a glass and chugged it down, then refilled it. He handed it to Jeannie, who took a measured sip before handing it back.

"You're okay," Kyle laughed, finishing the glass.

"I think that's our opener, folks' Elliott grinned.

"You know anything, Jeannie that you'd like to lay on us?" Kyle challenged her. "Since you ripped THAT last one out?"

"As a matter of fact yes," she said. "see if you can keep up. Progression E, G, then C..."

"How many sets did we sign the contract for? Two?" Elliott asked.

"Two," he said. "There are 2 openers."

"And how many songs are we going to need to have in top shape?" Elliott asked.

"We need at least 10, and if valley girl has a few..." Kyle pointed to her. "We have a fuckign chance."

"Leave her ALONE!" Elliott hissed, walking toward him again. "Or I'm gone!"

"Oh STOP it!" Jeannie shouts. "Stop the pissing contest!!! WE have a job to do!"

"Just play your stuff, and that's FINE WITH ME!" Kyle nodded. "All right already!"

Elliott turned around, looking at her. He is pouting slightly. She walked over ot him, and sighed, "Eliott, it's okay... i can handle him. My dad eats punks like hiim for breakfast."

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to" he said, shuffling his feet. "My dad and yours too, and my MOM...they're all going to see this crap."

"I want to," she whispered, stroking his cheek.

"And they're going to be disappointed," he pouted.

"I want to help you," she said softly.

"I know you do, sweetheart," he said, wrapping an arm around her.

"I can add to this mess of crap so you don't feel so uncomfortable," she whispered to him, pushing the bass to her back she hugs him. "Better moved your guitar to your back."

"Let's take five, guys," Elliott said to the band.

"fine, whatever," Kyle grumbled, going out and pulling out a small bowl pipe out of his pocket.

"And everyone compile a list of the songs you think we ought to play. We'll get our asses together and come up with a master list."

"Kyle! You're not going to be a damn STONEHEAD tomorrow night, are you?" Elliot yelled at him.

"It's just a buzz for today, sheesh dude."

"Your whole life is freakin' buzz," he muttered as he took Jeannie by the hand and let her backstage, and up the rackety stairs. She followed him to a small closet, which he pulled her into and shut the door behind them.

Inside the dingy closet they were pressed close. Pulling a string, he clicked on the bare bulb, and Jeannie giggled at their new surroundings. The faint hint of dust tickled a sneeze from her. Pushing his guitar to his back so the tail hung down off his hip, he pulled Jeannie to him and kissed her softly.

Jeannie teased his lips with her tongue, pressing close as their hands kneaded over each other’s backs. Elliot’s kiss grew in intensity, and he sought her mouth with his tongue hungrily. They pulled back for breath, heat flashing through their bodies. Against her lips he murmured, "I've been waiting 30 minutes to do that..."

The straps of their instruments caught on each other. "Damn!" he chuckled.

"You have the metal studded Paul strap," she giggled, noticing it was identical to one she had seen in so many concerts.

"Compliments of dear old dad," he smiled. "Goes with the guitar. He keeps sending me this stuff, saying, "I don't need it. It's a freebie I got somewhere along the line." I think it's just his way of making sure I have new gear without having to pay for it."

"You realize something?" she asked.

"Mmmm, what, love?" he asked, taking hold of her earlobe and sucking on it lightly.

"This bass... it's very familiar... Gibson grabber? Ring a bell?"

"Of course. Your dad," he laughed. "One of his first basses."

"Ironic," she laughed. "Don’t you think?"

"I actually have a friend who's in a tribute band. He's got one of those babies. They are gorgeous."

"Where did Bill get THIS gem..." she wondered. "There aren't many in the world."

"Uh..." he said uncomfortably.

"Considering Gene had given his away... YEARS ago... and this thing looks a hell of a lot like he described it to me."

"I don't know, hon," he said, shivering uncomfortably, and Jeannie knew she should drop the subject.

"I guess it's a coincidence..." she shrugged.

"Jean, I talked to my mom this morning when you were in the shower..."

"You did?" she asked. She noticed he still has his arms around her, holding her close.

"Yeah, I called her to make sure she's still coming tomorrow."

"Will your father know?" she asked.

"And I....well...told her about us," Jeannie asked, a bit concerned. "Did she get angry?"

"No, actually she was thrilled. She loves you. But see, that's not the BEST part."

"She doesn't mind... that I'm... well... the daughter of her best friend?" asked Jeannie, heart pounding.

"She said something about maybe your mom might be coming..." he said, watching her expression.

"OH... but my mom has a lecture at NYU..." said Jeannie, surprised. "She can't possibly have the time to see us... oh man..."

He sighed, "Well, she's making the time. Apparently, mom told her a few weeks ago I was in a band and she'd planned to come down and check us out. When she found out WE were an item, well, she wants to see you play."

"But Ell..."

He looked at her anxiously, "Did I mess it up? Because if I DID, I can call mom and cancel."

"It's okay..." she said softly. "I want her to see me. Playing with the man I love."

"But do you realize, we'll have both our parents in one room and we have NO plan on how to handle this?" he panicked, chest heaving against hers. "My mom will FREAK! She has no clue dad is out here."

"WE will think of something," she whispered, pressing close and rubbing her hips against him. "Easy lover, it's okay..."

"She'd NEVER come if she knew he was coming too. That's the only way I could get her out here. I feel like I'm lying to her, deceiving her."

"Relax..." she whispered, breathing in his ear. "Or else I'll take drastic measures..."

"What if she goes apeshit, right there in the bar? My dad will behave him, he's too damn private to cause a scene, but mom's been carrying around a lot of anger for a long time."

Tracing his lips with her tongue, she nibbled on them. Her hands traced down his shirt, and tugged on his belt playfully. He enjoyed her kisses, moaning softly, "I just want tomorrow to be over. And us to be back in my apartment in BED where we belong."

"Sounds wonderful, lover," she whispered, unbuckling his pants and slipping her hand inside. He groaned as he rubbed up against her hand, letting her feel his excitement.

They suddenly heard screaming and thumping just outside the door. Loud moans and cries cut through, and they both startled when a heavy object crashed right against the flimsy wood. "Shit!" he gasped, buckling his pants and opening the door.

He peered out, holding Jeannie close, and they saw the source of the noise. Hair and nails gripped around the back of a slender guy who had his pants down around his ankles, and the legs of a girl wrapped about his waist. On the table he had her spread, having hot and furiouis sex with a teeaged girl whom Elliott did not recognize.

"Kyle," Jeannie chuckled. Elliot groaned and pushed her back into the closet, closing the door again.

"I guess he’s not beating someone up after all," Elliott flushed.

"It didn’t spoil the mood did it Tiger?" she asked.

"Not really. I just thought of another thing..."

"What?" she asked.

"I figure tomorrow night after the show, if I'm not cleaning up the aftermath of my parents, I'll be sitting at the bar with PLENNNNNTY of time for your dad to come over and be alone with me."

"Uh oh," she sighed, shriking away. "I DREAD that..."

"I would be willing to bet you thousands that your dad finds a way to corner me tomorrow night."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, back turned to him as she rubs her arms.

He scratches his head cutely for a minute.

"We have a song we do sometimes called Give It to Me Hard, and I do a little prequel to it...." he chuckled. "I sort of go on and on about how playing a guitar is like fucking a girl."

She turned around, muttering, "That sounds familiar."

"There's NOOOOO way I can do that in front of your dad."

"Well then don't..." she said softly, green eyes wide with fear.

"As a matter of fact, we probably shouldn't even play that song," he said, lightly touching her arms. "Because knowing your dad, he'd tell me he's going to GIve it to Me Hard.....and right upside the head."

"He does and I kill him," she growled. "I'm not letting him ruin us."

"You'd do that for ME?" he teased.

"I don't care how much money he has."

"Nah, you don't. Tough as you are, try and WATCH someone stop you."

"I'm my father's daughter," she sighed. "Like it or not... I wish he didn't always try to protect me from some things in life.... i mean he lets me do what I want, but he does protect me too much somtimes."

"Besides, maybe MY dad will corner YOU," he smiled.

"Oh goody..." she sighed.

"And tell you not to corrupt his innocent son," he smiled, playing with her bra strap.

"A lecture from your dad... About not corrupting his little baby boy... that’s all I need."

"He likes to lecture. They’re not mean, but they go on FOREVER."

"Good lord..." she sighed.

They heard a last scream of "FUCK ME KYLE!" followed by a moan and a whimper. Silence suddenly met their ears, and Elliott laughed, "Jeez, just goes to show you, there are all kinds of women out there."

"I know," she sighed. "Why would any woman want his sorry ass? When she could have yours?"

"Have I mentioned to you lately that you are very sexy?" he cooed.

"Mmm, been a while," she joked. "And your ass is VERY nice... from where I stand."

"Move in with me," he said passionately and impulsively.

"What?" she asked slowly.

"I know you're going to tell me to wait and see....." he sighed.

"I'm in california... what if I want to go back to school?"

"I could....transfer....maybe," he said.

"You could move in with ME!" she said firmly.

"Not like NYU doesn't have anything that those California schools don't," he nodded. "And I'd get to see my dad more often, and Evan."

"I can't leave LA..." she said. "I want you with me."

"You haven't asked me," he teased.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling," she winked, wrapping her arms around his waist posessively.

"Seriously?" he said, brown eyes gazing at her.

"Yes," she said, green eyes twinkling. "But you promise me... finish school."

He reached down to kiss her passionately, whispering against her lips,

"Anything, love.... "I'll probably need to take a quarter off school...make sure everything transfers, get someone to rent my apartment. Find a job, I guess....maybe...."

"Uh huh," she whispered, unbuttoning hs shirt. "Damn, my dad is going to flip."

"God, Jeannie, right here...it has to be RIGHT here...." he panted. She unfastened his guitar and put it down. Then her fingers unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and pushing it down his arms. They quickly removed all confining articles of clothing, and their instruments in a flurry of passion. In the darkness they reached for one another and sought to complete the frenzy that had been unleasehd between them.

"Damn, we're in the middle of EVERYTHING." he sighed, excited.

"If we live together, we can have sex every night' he cooed.

"I know," she whispered.

"Easy, sweetie, DAMN!" he chuckled. "I can't possibly be THAT good."

"You are," she whispered.

Harder and faster their hands drew solos on their hungry bodies. Two youths pressed together, picking up a mutual tempo in their effort to complete one another for yet another space in time. Sweat merged with their cries, and the closet could not contain their desire.

"I want you... keep this up!" she cried in her hunger.

"If you want me to do something else...." he gritted. "Oh god... NOW!"

Jeannie stifled her climax in his neck, biting down hard. Together they reached their mutual release, holding each other and sweating as their passions cooled down.

"You complete me," she whispered. "It's like we fit perfectly together..."

"I love you," he whispered, as he turned his head a moment. The door clicked and they both startled out of their embrace.

"What?" he hollered.

"Are you in there, Eisen?" Jan yelled. "We have to REHEARSE!"

"I'm coming, damn it!" he yelled.

"Sorry," Jan snickered. "I didn't mean to interrupt you..."

"Give us a second," he said, softer this time.

"We'd better head out" he whispers, slightly red from telling her he loved her.

"My shirt is ruined,' she chuckled, holding it up.

"Here, take this" he said as he begins to put his shirt on her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "But what will you wear?"

"If my dad can go bare chested in front of millions, I can do it in front of a few idiots out there," he smiled.

"I know," she laughed.

"Besides....I have a spare in my car. It tends to break down a lot and I carry an old one just in case I'm jacking a tire at midnight on the side of the road."

They hastily dressed, and Jeannie realized she felt very sticky inside, making her a bit uncomfortable. She felt his kiss on her forehead as he said, "I'm serious about what I said earlier. I have every intention of moving to California with you, unless you tell me no."

"I know," she whispered.

"Is there a bathroom I can clean up with?" she asked. "In I mean..."

"Uhhhh, sure. If you go out and hang a left, it's back there. I'll warn you. It's basically a bare lightbulb and a dirty toilet. This isn't exactly the Ritz Carlton."

"I know... I just need a sink..." she said as she reached past him to open the door.

"Oh.....sorry...."

"It's okay," she said. He looked up, glaring at Kyle, daring him to say something. Still the lead guitarist was there, putting himself back together with the teenaged girl, who was fixing her messy hair.

"Well, you have some balls after all," he muttered to Elliot. "Sex in a closet. Hope for you yet, pretty boy."

The teenaged girl gasped, staring at Elliott's bare chest. He growled at Kyle, "Do I have to REPEAT myself? I said CAN IT!"

Grabbing his guitar, he buckled it back on, and seized Jeannie’s hand. He pointed her in the direction of the restroom, and watched her as she left to clean herself up.

"Whatever man..." he laughed. Jan snickered quietly at him without a shirt.

By the time Jeannie returned, she saw them all onstage exchanging lists. She tucked a bit of loose hair into her updo, buckling on the bass guitar once more and joining the band as they argued over their set list.

"Ahhh, thank God," Elliot sighed, looking at the pieces of paper. "Not bad. I think we can piece together something from this...and we know most of these songs like the back of our hands."

"Good," Kyle muttered. "Let's get to work..."

"Now we just have to teach Jeannie" he said, walking over to adjust his amp. "And....I want you all to know....I'm going to change my vocal intro to some of the songs tomorrow night. My mom's going to be there, so nothing X rated."

Jeannie adjusted her bass and plugged in again, waiting demurely for her cues from Bill. "OH Christ," Kyle rolled his eyes at Elliott’s last comment.

"And anyone who doesn't like it can BITE me!" Elliott grumbled.

Kyle threw up his hands, "Fine, let's just do this already."

"Jan suggests Fool for Love, that would make a good closer, I think. It's kick ass and everyone knows their parts," said Elliott.

"Sounds good," Kyle muttered. "But what about Strange hassled?"

 "I think that one works well in the second spot" he said to Kyle. "And Jan said at the end of the show she wants to kick over a cymbal or two, sort of like the big boys. So, if it's OK, get the hell out of the way when it's all over, because she's kicking."

"Fine... but watch out with that guitar smashing..." said Jan. "I don't wanna get hit with flying shit."

Jeannie glanced at Elliott, who seemed more confident now, taking command with cool ease that reminded her of his father. "I can't AFFORD to smash my guitar. Who the fuck do you think I am? Paul STANLEY?" he said, winking cryptically to Jeannie.

"I dunno, you bitch like that book said he does," Kyle teased him.

"And your last name IS Eisen..." Jan added.

"So what?" Jeannie asked. "So are a LOT of people."

"Along with thousands of other Jewish boys in the world," Elliot laughed, uncomfortably.

"You're not Jewish man, with that fucking crucifix," Kyle pointed at him.

"Shut up," Jeannie shot at him.

"Yeah, well..." Jan smirked, popping her gum a bit. His gold cross gleamed very apparently around his neck.

"Like you know who my dad is," he snapped hotly at Kyle.

"Easy hon," Jeannie urged. "It's okay."

"He HAPPENS to be Jewish," Elliott spat at Kyle.

"Paul Stanley is Jewish," Jan said slowly.

"So what?" Kyle laughed. "This guy is no fucking Paul Stanley."

"I'm just SAYING it's a weird coincidence," she said, glaring at Kyle.

"If he's Paul's son, I'm Ace Frehley's lost love child!" Kyle laughed.

"Right Jan... RIGHT..." Kyle laughed.

"I'd have had a love child with Ace!" Jan chuckled. "Born too friggin' late."

"God forbid," Jeannie groaned.

"I'll bet Ace is GOOOOOOD in bed..." Jan laughed.

"Crap," Elliott muttered.

"Ace is a fucking loser," Jeannie said. "He's a cokehead and he is a waistoid."

"Your dad is a slut, so what else is new," Kyle shot at her.

"He admits to that," Jeannie said. "So bite my ass, waistoid."

"For THAT matter, I'd have wild monkey sex with Paul Stanley too!" Jan cackled. Elliott winced a bit.

"Kyle..." Elliot gritted.

"Your Dad is a Slut!" Jan laughed, "that would make a kick-ass song title."

"I guess that's why you picked her, so you'd get close to the boys..." Kyle winked at Elliott. He grabbed Elliott’s arm and waved him over to the side of the stage out of earshot.

"Let me show you our other songs," Bill offered to Jeannie. She glanced at the songbook and began to look over the baseline.

"If she IS Jeannie Simmons, you have a SWEET connection to some BIG producers..." Kyle whispered to Elliott. "I hear Simmons and Stanley have a new record company..."

"That's NOT why she is here, but you know what? There's a GOOD chance he'll be there tomorrow, so we need to have our shit together," Elliott hissed.

"No fucking way..." Kyle gasped.

"And the rate we're going, we'll suck."

"Then let's get GOING dude!" Kyle shouted. "Get our asses OUT THERE!"

"About damn time..." Elliot muttered.

Over at the other side of the stage Jeannie wondered what Kyle and Elliot were discussing. She could tell from the flailing of Kyle’s hands and the shaking of Elliott’s head it was something of import, but she couldn’t see their lips to judge what they were mouthing.

"What is his deal?" Jeannie asked Jan.

"Beats me," she said, beating a few taps on her snare drum for emphasis. "Looks like they're best buds again, though. Figures..."

"And I bet he's thinking I'm his connection to fame?" Jeannie whispered about Kyle, motioning at him with her head.

"Kyle's always thinking, sweetheart," she said. "If he doesn't think he can't get anything from you, he doesn't even bother learning your name."

"Yeah," Jeannie grumbled. Kyle started his part, and glanced at Elliott. Elliott looks over at him with dark eyes.

"Ready?" Elliot asked.

"Yes," Kyle laughed. "Let's GO!"

***