General Disclaimer: This fiction is about professional musicians, so yes, there will be sex, drugs and maybe even some rock & roll every once in a while. I really don't think I need to say much more than that, but I will, just in case?

Adult Subject Matter: One of the main characters deals with an addiction, one that causes her to hit rock bottom and do things that may make some people uncomfortable.

Love/Sex Disclaimer: This story features consensual sexual relationships between adult women, some implied m/f relations, and a bit of BDSM. (Not a whole heck of a lot, but just enough to warrant the disclaimer). There's nothing extremely explicit. If this bothers you, is illegal in the state you live or you are under the age of 18, find something else to read. There are loads of general stories out there in the Xenaverse.

Language: Again, these characters are in the music business so, yes, there is some bad language. UberX seems to want to have a foul mouth for some reason. I don't know where it's coming from cause I really don't curse often, except when I'm at work. Actually, I did happen to write some (okay, most) of this there.

Violence: Yep, there be a bit of violence in this fiction. Nothing gory though.

Hurt/Comfort: Got me some of that here too.

Music Business Knowledge: I can't claim I know very much about the business, so if any of this seems terribly out there to you, it probably is. I do know how to play the drums though, so I can tell you about that.

Many thanks to kas, Yolanda, Peace, Rainne, Denise, Kevin and the pups for beta reading this baby for me. Thank you to Peggy for supplying me with the name of the band, and to Missy Good for giving me permission to use Tropical Storm- the book, in a small part of the story.

Any comments can be sent to: sasmith24601@bellsouth.net

Part 1

There comes a time we all know

There's a place that we must go

Into the soul

Into the heart

Into the dark?

"INTO THE DARK"- Melissa Etheridge 1999

Chapter 1

Northern California

Jordanna Fox sat regally on top of a pale colored horse as if she was born in that position. The on-site horse trainer looked at the drummer in awe. "I thought you said you didn't know how to ride?"

Seductive blue eyes looked back at her. "I've never rode? a horse? before in my life."

"Well, you're a natural then," the woman replied.

Jordanna shrugged her shoulders and winked at the horse trainer. "I guess I am."

Dressed as amazon warriors and sitting high on top of horses that they couldn't seem to control, Jordanna and her band, Plenty of Nothing, were on the set filming the video for their upcoming single 'Fight or Take Refuge'.'

"Shit! All this horse wants to do is eat," Kelly Savage, the band's tired lead guitarist muttered, as she tried to stop her horse from eating leaves off of a nearby tree.

Rachel Simpson, the band's bassist and spokeswoman, wasn't having much luck with her horse either. "You think that's bad, I think Muffin is in heat or something," she laughed. "It keeps sniffing Linda's horse where the sun don't shine."

"Yeah, I think that my horse is enjoying it though? she keeps trying to throw me off," Linda snorted. "This is going to be one hell of a long day."

Irritated, the director of the video decided to take a break. "Let's break for lunch. We are wasting a lot of tape on this. Give the horses?and the band time to settle down."

"About fuckin' time." The drummer eased her sleek, muscled six-foot frame off of her horse. "Good girl," she said as she gave the large animal a quick pat and a scratch on it's pale mane and then walked directly over to the horse trainer, put her arm around her and said a few words. Within seconds, the two went to the band's trailer, and everyone heard the sound of the door lock. Jordanna was the only band member that didn't seem to mind using part of her two-week break from their 14-month tour to shoot a video.

"Geez? Jordanna's at it again," Rachel shook her head and laughed. "Is there anyone on the set that our Romeo hasn't been with yet?"

"If the trailer's a rockin'? don't come knockin'?" Kelly sang cheerfully as she grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water. "Is there anyone Jordanna hasn't been with yet? Hmmm? good question," she snorted. "Well, let's see? first it was the woman from the audience, after that the makeup artist was next, then I think it was her assistant, which in turn pissed the makeup artist off and she stormed off the set." She put her finger near her mouth. "No, I don't think she's missed anyone. Can you think of anyone, Lin?"

Linda Matthews, rhythm guitarist and one half of the band's vocals, didn't find it funny. "No, as usual? she's done them all. Except for the men of course," she replied gruffly.

Kelly walked over to Linda and put her hand on her shoulder. "Still not over her, huh?"

"Fuck you, Kelly."

Kelly laughed. "Real nice, Lin, guess you just answered my question."

Jordanna emerged from the trailer just as they were getting ready to start up taping again. Both the drummer and the horse trainer grabbed a couple of seats in the section the band was sitting in having their lunch. Rachel grabbed a plate and handed it to the drummer. "You better eat something, Jordanna, we don't want to have to rush you to the hospital like the last time you passed out from not eating."

Jordanna looked at the bassist and smirked. "Thanks, but I already ate," she said, brushing her sweaty jet-black bangs out of her eyes. All eyes went to the blushing horse trainer who at that very moment realized she was needed somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Kelly got up to throw out her garbage. "You really do have a way with the ladies, Jordanna. You screw 'em and then send them all running for the hills."

"All in the plan, Kelly. All in the plan? I wouldn't want anyone to grow too attached, you know?" she said with a grin.

Linda snorted. "Heaven forbid you'd let that happen. You just might melt or something if you did."

Jordanna looked up and glared at her. "What's your problem, Linda?"

Linda narrowed her eyes. "You, Jordanna," the guitarist answered sarcastically. "Are my problem."

The drummer got up from her seat and circled around the guitarist, like an animal circling it's prey. She stopped when she was directly behind her and bent down slightly so that her mouth was level with Linda's ear. "You know what your problem is?" she whispered in a sensual purr.

Linda turned her body slightly but she couldn't see the drummer's face. She did, however, feel Jordanna's hands caressing the curve of her breasts and then she felt the drummer rubbing her body up against her back. "After all these years you still want me, Linda, don't you?" she asked breathlessly into the guitarist's ear. "Don't you?" she repeated.

When Linda relaxed and gave into the touch that she so longed for, Jordanna laughed and then pulled her body away from the frustrated woman. "You need to get laid, Linda, that's what your problem is."

Linda shuddered and her face turned red from anger. She turned around and looked the drummer straight in the eyes. "You bitch! Not everyone solves their problems with sex."

The drummer just stood there, still smirking at the irritated guitarist, very proud of herself. "You might want to think about trying it? then maybe you wouldn't be so frustrated and miserable all the time."

"Fuck you, Jordanna."

The dark-haired woman winked. "You wish."

Rachel saw what Jordanna did to Linda and heard the last part of their conversation. She noticed that the guitarist's jaw was clenched tight and she looked as if she wanted to go after the drummer in a fit of rage. Rachel bravely stepped in between the two women so they wouldn't kill each other. "That's enough you two!" She put her hand on her head and rubbed it. "No wonder why I have a damn headache! I'm dealing with children."

Jordanna turned and started to walk back to the video set and Rachel ran to catch up with her. When she caught up with the drummer, she grabbed the taller woman by the arm to stop her.

"What?" the drummer said with a growl of annoyance in her voice.

"Why must you always tease her like that, Jordanna? You know how she feels about you."

The drummer grinned wickedly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I can. Plus, she's fun to pick on. She walks herself right into it nine times out of ten." She stopped walking for a second. "Besides, she started it this time."

"Christ, Jordanna, you know how she is though. Can't you be just a little bit sensitive to her?"

Both dark brows lifted and the drummer paused in thought. "I didn't gain the title of cold, insensitive, and selfish bitch for nothing, Rachel."

The bassist shook her head and tried to stifle a chuckle but failed. "This is true."

They cut through a small patch of woods that led to the set, ducking overgrown tree limbs and making sure to stay away from any poisonous looking plant life. As they made their way out of the woods, the set and the horses came into view. The aching bassist sighed because she was definitely not looking forward to getting back on the animal. "How come you're not having any problems riding that overgrown beast they have you on?"

The drummer shrugged. "I dunno. She seems to like me."

Rachel stopped to look at her. "The horse trainer?"

"No, the horse, Rachel."

"Oh."

Jordanna smiled and licked her lips. "Although the trainer kinda liked me too, though. She screamed my name enough times before."

"I know," the bassist said with a chuckle. "We heard her."

Jordanna's West Coast home

Coronado, California

After jumping out of bed, Jordanna fished through her dresser drawers. "The plane is supposed to take off in less than an hour and I'm standing here naked. Susan?"

"What, Jordanna?" the drummer's live-in lover answered calmly.

"Where the hell did you put my jeans?" she snapped.

"I hung them in the closet where I always do. Not that you're ever here to know that, though," the blonde said with serious sarcasm in her voice. "I told you we didn't have enough time, but your libido won out, as usual. You don't even have time to shower. Everyone's gonna know what you did this morning."

"You could've said no," the drummer said, pulling her jeans up and zipping them. She thought about that and then laughed.

Susan climbed out of their bed and sauntered into the living room to look out the window. "The limo is here, Jordanna. Are you almost ready?" Not that I'm rushing you out of here or anything, my dear sweet wonderful Jordanna?

"What about my bras, Susan? Where did you put them?" the drummer called out from the bedroom.

Susan grinned. "I think the one you flung off last night is still hanging from the ceiling fan- check there."

Jordanna looked up at the fan and laughed at the bra hanging from it. "Nope, too small, that must be yours."

"Very funny, Jordanna. The driver is coming to the door. Should I answer it?" Susan asked as the doorbell rang.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

Hearing no answer from her unpredictable lover, Jordanna flipped a tee shirt on and ran out into the living room. "Are you out of your mind?" The blonde was standing in the doorway in her birthday suit. The limo driver's eyes were wide open from the sight. After the three years of driving the drummer around he was used to her wild antics, but he still couldn't get used to her eccentric girlfriend. "Sorry, we got a bit?detained," Susan explained. "She's running a little late. Why don't you sit down."

The driver backed out the door. "Ah, no? that's okay. I'll get the luggage and then wait for Jordanna in the car."

Susan's shrill laughter echoed throughout the house.

The drummer, now fully dressed, went into the hallway closet and grabbed her leather jacket. "You're sick, you know that? Why do you insist on terrorizing Edward every time he comes here?"

Susan grabbed Jordanna by the hair. "You're just jealous cause he saw your piece of ass. You are so possessive sometimes."

The drummer laughed and slapped Susan on the area they were discussing? hard. "My piece of ass?" she snorted. "I think most of California has had a little piece of your ass, Susan, hasn't it? Now let go of my hair, you crazy bitch." She pushed the blonde woman off of her, and walked out of the door without saying goodbye.

"Goodbye, Jordanna. Nice of you to drop in, honey? don't let the door hit you in the ass." Susan watched the dark-haired woman get in the back of the limo and waited for it to drive away. She picked up the phone and dialed a number that was one she obviously called often. "It's me, Diane, she's gone. The house is ours again."

A tired and irritable Rebecca Hurley had just taken the red-eye in after completing an assignment to cover 3-day music festival in Houston. She was in her white Mitsubishi Eclipse, heading home to her Manhattan apartment, when her beeper went off. 'Shit, can't they let me take a shower and get changed first?' she thought as she pulled her phone out of her backpack.

She dialed the number to her boss' office and Janice, his assistant, answered the phone.

"Hi Janice, it's Rebecca Hurley. I was just paged."

"Oh, hi Rebecca, John wanted me to page you. I'll get him for you."

John Drake, Tempo magazine's editor-in-chief, was her immediate supervisor. John was one of the few people that remained employed with the popular music magazine since it's inception 20 years ago. He could tell you, in great detail, about the tremendous changes that the magazine and the music business had taken over the last two decades.

John took pride in knowing that he was the one willing to take the chance on having a woman like Rebecca, who had neither a journalism degree nor a college diploma, join his writing team. He couldn't believe that it had been six years since the young woman started out in a Girl Friday type position at the magazine. What John saw immediately was a young woman with enough spunk and determination to get the job done as quickly as possible, and with flair. This, of course, paid off for him and the magazine. Now, when anyone talks of music journalism at its best, Rebecca's name is one of the, if not the first to pop up in the conversation.

"I know you just got in, but I need to talk to you about your next assignment. It's big. We are the only ones that are getting the opportunity for a story like this and I want you to cover it," her boss barked through the phone. The man was not known for his tact.

She rubbed her head and then spoke. "Can't this wait? I haven't even been to my apartment yet to drop my luggage off. I haven't slept in over 24 hours." She paused for a brief second. "And my flight was great John, thanks for asking," she added.

"Yeah, yeah?whatever? I know you haven't slept, kid, but you're young. You can hang on for another hour or so. You can get some sleep once we talk." With that, John hung up the phone.

"Asshole," Rebecca cursed, once she heard the dial tone. She drove to the next corner and turned, heading back uptown to the magazine's Manhattan office.

She walked into the building, got on the elevator and took it up to John's office on the 15th floor. She said hi to Janice and went into his office. He was not there. She sat down to wait for his return. Twenty minutes and what little patience she had left later, John still had not returned to the office. He may have all day but I don't. That's it, I'm outta here. She got up and made it as far as his door.

"Where's the fire, Hurley? I called you in here for a reason," he said to her as they practically knocked each other over in his office doorway. He walked to his desk and set his cup of coffee and doughnut down.

"Nice time for a coffee break. What's my next assignment, John?" she asked sarcastically, her lethargy and annoyance showing in the tone of her voice.

"Sit down, Rebecca?damn, you young kids can't sit still for minute. I need you to go home and pack your bags, you are going on a little trip." He grinned at her, knowing damn well her bags hadn't been unpacked yet.

"I can't freaking believe this! I haven't even been home yet and I'm already packing my bags again. My daughter will forget what I look like if I keep this up, John. I never get to see her anymore," she said, her tone incredulous. "Where the hell will I be heading to this time?"

"Chicago." He smiled, so proud of this accomplishment. "I just got off the phone with Jerry Baker, Plenty of Nothing's manager. I called him to see if we could set up an interview with the band and the only way it was possible for that to happen is if you join them on the road for a while."

"What!!???. You've got to be kidding! Can't you find someone else to cover this one, John? I just got home!" she barked. "Next thing you are going to tell me is that you want me to work with Jordanna Fox!"

The popular drummer's attitude toward the press was nothing short of pure bitch, and she handled it that way on purpose. They did, at least a good percentage of them, leave her alone? and that was the way she liked it.

His smile disappeared. "As a matter of fact? yes, it's Jordanna that we are after. She's the most happening thing right now, Rebecca. Everyone wants a piece of her and we got the job, kid."

"Can't you send old Don Juan over there to cover this one?" she asked, looking over at her co-worker, Jake Rogers, who was constantly boasting that he could get any woman he wanted to share his bed with him. "He's got the hots for her big time, John. Maybe, this time, he actually will get lucky. Not just in his head," she added with a smirk.

John leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I'm disappointed in you, Hurley, apparently you haven't been keeping up with your homework. Jordanna bats for the other team," he stated bluntly. "She doesn't do the male thing."

Wonderful. Just my freaking luck. "That's just great, so I'll be following some dyke bitch from hell around the country for the next few weeks. What did I do to deserve this honor?" she questioned, her green eyes shooting daggers at her boss.

He took a few moments to mull over her question. "You're good, kid. You ask good questions. You'll see, this won't be that bad. Maybe you and Jordanna will bond. Stranger things have happened."

"Oh, I'm sure we will bond, all right. When does my flight leave?" she asked. She knew she had been defeated.

Chicago, IL

A few members of the crew stood in the lobby of the hotel in Chicago. Jordanna looked at Gary, the band's stage manager and her drum tech. "Did you find anyplace yet?"

He ran his hands through his shoulder length, dark brown hair. "The doorman told me there's a club downtown," he said in his native New Orleans accent. "He said that it's a bit of a hike, but it will definitely be worth the drive, if you know what I mean."

The drummer pursed her lips and smiled. "Good, I'm definitely in the mood for a little action tonight."

"So am I. Shall we darlin'?" he said as he opened the front door for the drummer and followed her out into the night.

Chapter 2

The music was loud. The strobe lights that were flashing lit up the drummer's face every few seconds or so, making her hair look like it had a blue tint to it. She was sitting in a chair in front of one of the many small stages in the club, watching the buxom blonde in front of her slowly remove her top. The blonde danced closer to edge of the stage than she normally would, knowing who the woman watching her was and what she was looking for.

Jordanna had a reputation. She would, at some time or another, visit just about every club like the one they were sitting in and fork over a lot of money to be entertained, and everyone in the business knew it. They were also aware that she knew the business from personal experience, and that perplexed some of them.

Jordanna pulled out a couple hundred-dollar bills and flashed them to the woman, who moved within inches of the drummer. The dark-haired woman tucked the bills into the dancer's g-string, who winked in understanding.

Gary leaned in and spoke to the drummer. "She's a real babe. You always find the hot ones."

"I know." Jordanna sat back in her chair, smiled and took a sip of her beer, her eyes never leaving the stage. "She's mine, Gary."

"Care to share?"

"Are you suggesting another threesome?" Jordanna asked with a laugh.

"Well, now that you mentioned it?"

"Forget it, Gary," the drummer said. "Find your own tonight."

The song ended and new dancers took the stage. A few minutes passed before the fully clothed blonde dancer came out and tapped Jordanna on the shoulder. "Hi," she said to the drummer. "Follow me?"

Jordanna nodded her head at the woman, stood up and looked at Gary. "Meet you later."

Gary rolled his eyes and laughed. "Have fun, J," he said as he watched the two women walk to the dressing room area. "Lucky dog."

"What's your name?" Jordanna asked the blonde woman as she followed her through a long hallway.

The dancer giggled and batted her eyes. "Bambi."

'So ? who in the hell does that make me? Thumper? ' the drummer thought and suppressed a grin. Well, Thank God I'm not here for her brains 'cause she seems to be lacking in that department. Lucky for me, she makes up for it in other areas.

"Do you know who I am, Bambi?" she asked, her voice a raspy whisper.

"Yes, Jordanna." Another giggle.

The drummer looked around the room at all the other dancers getting ready. 'Mmmm, very nice,' she thought as she inspected a dark-skinned woman changing into her costume a few feet away from them. I wonder if what they say is true? I guess I'll just have to find out.

She turned her attention back to the blonde she was following, who was tugging on her hand. "Bambi, is there someplace, um? more private we can go to here?" She looked at the dark skinned woman who was still staring at her.

And can your friend come out and play too?

The blonde woman looked at her blankly and then giggled. "Uh? there's a room in the back with a large couch."

"That'll work," the drummer said, licking her lips.

Jordanna walked through the backstage curtain and back into the club. Her eyes did a quick sweep of the room for her drum tech, but he was nowhere to be found. On a last minute thought, she walked through the door of the men's room. Two men exiting the room gave her strange looks. "Gary, you in here?"

"Jesus, Jordanna? can't a guy take a piss in peace?" her drum tech answered and then she heard the sound of a toilet flushing. "Finished with your date?"

"Nope, Gary, ya can't." She chuckled and then leaned against the wall near the bathroom, ignoring the date remark. "C'mon, are you ready to go?"

"Yep, we are."

We?

Gary walked out of the bathroom and the dark-skinned woman that Jordanna was admiring backstage came out of nowhere and latched onto him. Jordanna lifted an eyebrow at him and smiled at the woman.

"Crystal," the woman said, offering her hand to the drummer.

The dark-haired woman took her hand. "Jordanna Fox."

"I know who you are," the dancer purred, pinning the drummer with big brown eyes. "We all do." She broke the eye contact and ran her finger along Gary's jaw line. "So, tell me, Jordanna? did you like what you saw in the dressing room before when you were with Bambi?"

"Yes." Jordanna smiled and cleared her throat. "Yes, I did."

"I heard that you were once in the business."

Jordanna lifted an eyebrow again. "You heard correct."

"Then why do you frequent these places?"

The drummer snorted. "Can't a woman appreciate a good looking woman as much as a man can?"

"Is that what you call what you do?" Crystal laughed and continued. "You of all people should know better? how we feel being up there."

"I do know how you feel, and that's why I can appreciate what you do." She focused her wandering eyes on Crystal again. "You don't have to do this, Crystal. There's always another way if it bothers you so much. I got out."

Gary stood quietly, listening to the two women speak to each other. You could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. Gary knew though, that Jordanna would always come out on top in a situation like this.

Sometimes, in more ways than one.

Jordanna and Gary were partners in crime ever since he started working for the band, which was pretty much right after the band first got together. The two spent most off nights going to clubs looking for women, or just going out to have a good time.

Gary was no different from the rest of the male members of the road crew. They all had a hard-on for the beautiful drummer when they first met her, but they quickly went limp after they found out she preferred the ladies. After all the years he knew her, Gary still thought it was amazing how most of the women they met were defenseless against the dark-haired drummer's charms. She was the ultimate chick magnet, and if that's what you were looking for, then hanging around her paid off. People will do just about anything to get the chance to meet up with one of their favorite rockers.

Anything.

He was also one of the very few people that thought that she was fun to hang around with. Jordanna had become just another one of the guys to him. Except, of course, when she would indulge in a little threesome action with him. Then, in his eyes, she was all woman.

Crystal spoke again. "No, it doesn't bother me? I was just wondering why you do what you do."

"I could always make it up to you. If it does bother you, I mean." Jordanna's eyes turned a deep shade of blue. "I could show you how much I really appreciate what you do up there on the stage."

Crystal smiled seductively. "And how do you suppose you could do that?"

"Well?" Jordanna leaned over and rubbed her body against the woman, whispering in her ear. "The limo is outside and I have a nice, comfy penthouse room at the Hilton with a bed big enough to hold?" She turned and smiled at Gary. "Three."

"Mmm, I see," Crystal said with a nod. "Now, how could I refuse an offer like that?" She took both Jordanna and Gary's hands and they walked toward the door to head for the limo. "Lead on."

Did she just snag my date out from under me? Gary shook his head in amazement as visions of that threesome flashed in his mind. Damn she's good. He smiled.

Oh yes? she's very good indeed.

Rebecca sat looking out of the window of the plane. She spent the last 45 or so minutes of her flight reading over some of the more recent articles that the magazine had done on Jordanna Fox and/or Plenty of Nothing to familiarize herself with her newest nightmare of an assignment. The pilot announced that they were currently flying over Buffalo, NY. 'Ooh, how exciting,' she thought.

Rebecca realized that in just one more hour she would be in Chicago. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She was not looking forward to this assignment at all, and cursed John up and down for giving it to her.

She had dealt with many difficult musicians over the years. She had fought off drunk guitarists, had been invited to join in on many orgies, of which she always graciously declined. Well, all except one... but she didn't want to think about that at the moment. Rebecca loved dealing with challenging artists, but Jordanna Fox? why her? She finished reading about the obnoxious drummer's bar brawls, how she was arrested for trashing a hotel room in Kansas at the beginning of the tour, hospitalized for malnutrition a few weeks afterward, and last but not least, she read about Jordanna's reputation of being a womanizer. Just about every article she read had a picture of Jordanna. In each one she was either holding hands with, had her arm around, or was even kissing a different woman. Rebecca chuckled as she asked herself what rock she must have been under for the past five years, because she, as one of the country's top music journalists, was not very familiar with the rock world's most popular drummer.

Another question came to her mind. Why is the country so obsessed with this obviously destructive woman? She was now determined to find out.

Well, sort of.

The flight attendant brought Rebecca out of her thoughts. "Would you like something to drink?" the young man asked her.

She answered without looking up at him. "No, thank you."

He looked down at a photo Rebecca had of Jordanna on her lap. "God, she's gorgeous. It's a shame she's?" he whispered and stopped.

"Gay?" she finished for him, chuckling slightly. She thought about what he said for a moment and then looked up at him. "You really think she's that gorgeous?" And just when did the airlines start hiring pubescent teenagers as flight attendants?

His face turned slightly red. "Oh man, yeah, I do."

"Why?"

He made a face at her. "Huh?"

"What is it that you like about her?"

"What are you, a reporter or something?" he asked her.

"Good deduction." She smiled at him. "Yes, I am a journalist. She's my latest assignment."

"Wow, how cool." He laughed and then answered her question. "I guess it's the dark hair, the amazing blue eyes, the tight jeans, the leather, the attitude? she's the ultimate bad girl."

Rebecca smiled quickly. "I guess you like the bad girl type then, huh?"

"Yeah, that and the thought?"

She noticed his ears were turning red as he cut off what he started to say and urged him to go on. "That and the? what?"

"No, I can't say it." He scratched his chin. "I'll be in big trouble with the airline if I say what I was thinking to a passenger."

"No ya won't? I won't say anything?" she looked at his badge for his name. "Gerald." She brushed her fingers gently over his hand and smiled. He was so young.

He stood quietly for a few seconds. He decided that she looked honest enough so he bent down and whispered in her ear.

She laughed a bit and looked back up at him. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Well, guess what, Gerald? You are no different than any other hot blooded American male that thinks seeing two women in bed together is a real turn on." She gave him a wink and watched as the red-faced young flight attendant backed away from her seat, clearly embarrassed. He was glad the plane was relatively empty.

"Hey, wait," she said, motioning for him to come back by her. When he did, she handed him the few photos of Jordanna she had with her. "Thanks for answering my questions, Gerald. You've been a big help."

His eyes lit up. "Are these for me?"

"Sure, I think you'll enjoy them a lot more than I will," she said with a hint of sarcasm, which, of course, was totally lost on him.

"Thanks. If you need anything, just ask," he said, clearing his throat.

"Thanks, I will."

Kelly opened with the first few chords of the song and stopped abruptly. "I'm getting some serious feedback in my monitor."

Linda was pacing around the stage. The band's soundcheck was almost over and there was still no sign of their drummer. "Where the hell is Jordanna? She knows that we are doing the new songs tonight! Has she even practiced them at all? God, she drives me crazy sometimes."

Rachel was losing her patience with Linda. "Quit your bitching, Lin, she will be here." She picked up her bass and slung it over her shoulder. "And besides, get over her already damn it! It's been years now."

"Kiss my ass, Rachel," Linda said sarcastically before she walked away.

Kelly walked over to Rachel. "Do you know where Jordanna is, Rach?" she asked quietly.

Rachel nodded. "Jerry asked her to go to the airport with him. He said he had something he needed to talk to her about and he would fill us in when they got back."

"Hmmm." Kelly looked puzzled. "Wonder what that could be about?"

Rachel began playing the chords of Pink Floyd's 'Money' on her bass. "I dunno. Whatever it is, Jordanna will no doubt hassle him about it."

Kelly laughed. "Without a doubt." She looked over at Linda, who was standing on the corner of the stage. "I think you may have hurt her feelings, Rach. You know how she feels about Jordanna."

Rachel shook her head. "I know, she just pisses me off sometimes, Kel. She has a comment about everything that Jor says or does. I'll be the first to admit Jordanna can be a selfish bitch most of the time and she did hurt her pretty bad, but Linda just takes it too far."

"I know, a woman scorned." Kelly agreed. "Just go easy on her though."

Jerry looked around the airport at the crowd that was beginning to gather around them. He didn't think that the news about having Rebecca Hurley on tour with the band would go over well with the moody drummer. What an understatement that was.

"You have got to be absolutely, positively, fucking kidding me, Jerry!" she screamed, her voice getting louder with each word she said. "You expect me to spend the rest of the tour with some reporter following me around like a lost puppy? That's just not gonna happen!" She turned around to walk away, thus ending the conversation. Her bodyguard was standing just inches behind her and she slammed right into him. "Back off, Lenny? I need some space."

"But I have?" The bodyguard started to argue with her.

She glared at him. "Your orders? I know you do. Please, Lenny, just a little space," she asked quietly and her eyes softened. He moved out of her way, but remained close enough to her in case anyone thought of trying anything. He stepped forward when he saw Jerry heading towards her with a determined look in his eyes.

She turned around defensively as Jerry grabbed her arm when he caught up with her. "Get your fucking hands off of me, Jerry," she snarled, speaking through her teeth. He let go of her arm and faced her.

"It's all right, Lenny, I can handle myself," she said, as the big bodyguard nearly fell over himself to stop the band's manager from touching the drummer.

Jerry waited for everyone to calm down and then began speaking. "Let me explain my reasoning on this, Jordanna," he said in his native British accent, while leading her to a corner that was more private to talk. "You know better than anyone that the press you have been getting lately has not been good. In fact, it bloody downright sucks. First, you go and get yourself arrested again, and then you end up in the hospital. Luckily, we could cover them both up before the press could really sink their teeth into them." He looked her directly in the eyes, not letting her intense glare get the best of him like it usually did. "It's not good for the band, you know that. I don't want to have to talk to you about looking for a new drummer if your behavior doesn't change, I really don't."

He stopped talking and put his hand on her arm gently. "Don't make me have to do that again, Jordanna. I hated doing it the first time," he whispered.

She looked at him, opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it.

"So, please, just go along with this," he continued. "You know I wouldn't do this to you unless I thought it was absolutely necessary."

She shook her head and sighed. "Jerry?"

"And Rebecca is the best in the field."

"I know who she is, I've read some of her articles."

He let out a relieved sigh. "Considering what I've said then, it's important that you go along with this. Please just try to get used to the idea of having someone around you for a while."

As he was finishing off his little speech he caught sight of a small woman, with strawberry blonde hair, wearing a press pass, walking toward them. "And more sooner than later?I think that's her now. Be nice to her, Jordanna."

Jordanna snorted. "Yeah, I can be?." she hadn't finished her statement by the time Rebecca had joined them. Her eyes took the small woman in slowly, starting with her face, down to her feet and then made their way back up looking into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. "?.Nice," she concluded, gasping for air suddenly.

I know her, don't I?

Rebecca's heart jumped at the sight of the drummer.

Those eyes. I've looked into them a million times before, haven't I?

Rebecca had seen numerous photos of the drummer but was not prepared to find out just how incredibly beautiful Jordanna Fox was in person. Yes, the woman has been chosen as one of People Magazine's 50 most beautiful people for the last 4 years straight, and yes, that definitely should have been a clue for her. Sometimes though, as Rebecca read through the list, she wondered what possessed People to pick some of the people they chose. But now, standing right in front of her, she knew exactly why the magazine had picked this woman to grace the list.

I just never expected the dyke bitch from hell to be the most beautiful woman, forget that, most beautiful human I have ever laid my eyes on. And so familiar, too.

She shook her head, confused by the immediate connection she felt to this virtual stranger. The two of them just stood there looking at each other, feeling something between them but not really knowing where it came from or what to say about it.

The sound of Jerry's voice broke the spell. "You must be Rebecca. We are very glad to have you join us on the tour." Jordanna flipped him a pained look.

He turned to the smaller woman to get the introduction over with. "Rebecca, this is Jordanna Fox."

Rebecca blinked and held her hand out to Jordanna. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Jordanna paused a moment. Hmmm, give me two days? nope scratch that, make it one day and she's in my bed. She slowly took her hand. "Yeah, you too."

Jerry picked up Rebecca's duffel bag and put it on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get your luggage. The limo is waiting out back for us."

As the two women followed Jordanna's bodyguard to go pick up Rebecca's luggage, Jerry walked as close to Jordanna as he could so Rebecca would not hear him. "Please try to keep her out of your bed, Jordanna. You've had enough of that kind of coverage and that is definitely not the kind you need," he said, knowing the raven-haired woman's fetishes all too well, and Rebecca was smart, blonde and beautiful.

Exactly the drummer's type.

"Is that really what you think of me, Jerry?" she said to him with a wink and a flash of a crooked smile.

The ride in the limo was spent mostly in silence. Jerry tried making small talk, discussing the band's itinerary for the next few weeks. Neither of the women had said very much.

Rebecca spent her time looking down at her hands trying to come up with a way to get the raven-haired woman to say something. She turned to Jordanna and took the direct approach. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Jordanna was busy reading a magazine and didn't bother to look up. "Don't take it personally. I'm not really a people person. I don't do the chat thing real well." She assumed that her answer was enough and would be the end of the conversation.

Annoyed at the drummer's rudeness, Rebecca grabbed the magazine Jordanna was reading and flipped it shut. "Just for the record, Jordanna, I want to be here about as much as you want me to be here."

Jordanna couldn't keep a smirk from finding its way onto her lips. Hmmm, besides being very cute, she's feisty too. She looked directly into Rebecca's deep green eyes, put the magazine down and gave the blonde her full attention. "Okay, you're the reporter, start asking the questions," she said to the young woman in a daring tone.

Rebecca sat speechless. Not knowing what to say was something she never had a problem with before. There was silence all around them.

Jordanna grabbed her gently by the chin, mocking her. "C'mon, kid, whaddya wanna know about the big bad drummer? Yes, all the things you hear about me are true." She kept up her mocking tone. "I thought that you wanted to do an interview," She shrugged her shoulders questioningly. "Ask away."

Rebecca shook her head out of Jordanna's grip and noticed the intense blue eyes studying her. She felt uncomfortable being scrutinized like that and shifted in her seat. "Well? first off, why do you have to be such?."

Jerry cleared his throat and interrupted her. "Okay? there's plenty of time for the interview. We'll be at the arena in a few minutes. We're very late and already missed the soundcheck. Jordanna has to get warmed up for the show." He turned his gaze to Jordanna, giving her a warning look.

She lifted an eyebrow and spoke seductively. "Oh, I'm just getting warmed up, Jerry."

Jordanna sat backstage with her practice pad in her lap, going through different sticking patterns to warm herself up quickly, since she wasn't able to attend the soundcheck. Once she finished that, she put the sticks and the pad down on the floor, stood up and walked to a corner and did a few stretches to loosen her body up.

Jerry called the other members of the band over to him. Once they were all together he quickly introduced Rebecca to them.

"Rebecca, this is Kelly Savage, our lead guitarist." Rebecca looked at the dirty blonde with long curly hair and gray eyes and stuck her hand out, which the guitarist graciously accepted.

"This is Linda Matthews, rhythm guitarist and vocalist." Linda pushed back a strand of her long, dark hair, said a quiet hello, and then closed her hazel eyes, hoping that her heart would slow to a normal pace. 'Rebecca sure is beautiful, ' she thought to herself.

Rachel introduced herself. "Rachel Simpson- bassist, keyboards and resident big mouth," she said as she shook Rebecca's hand, her brown eyes twinkling. "Very nice to meet you, Rebecca. I've read some of your work. It's very good."

The reporter blushed. "Thank you."

A local Chicago disc jockey walked onto the stage and introduced the band as they lined up backstage. Rebecca watched as Lenny, the tall, muscular Italian man that she met at the airport, practically wrapped himself around the tall drummer, ready to usher her onto the stage. The other band member's bodyguards stood close by their sides, but didn't have them in a bear hold like Jordanna was in. The reporter shook her head. "That's strange," she said quietly to herself. "I wonder what's up with that?"

"?And would you please give a big Chicago welcome to Plenty of Nothing!" the disc jockey announced and then walked off the stage. The band members quickly took their places on the stage.

Rachel threw the strap of her bass over her head and walked up to her microphone. "HELLO, CHICAGO! HOW ARE YOU ALL DOING TONIGHT?"

The fans screamed back at her.

"One, two, three, four?" A deafening roar was heard from the crowd as Jordanna counted them into the opening song, a Jordanna Fox original from their first album called 'Many Skills.' The song was the band's first hit and had rocketed them to stardom.

Rebecca had heard about Plenty of Nothing's stage shows but had never witnessed one. She sat on a speaker on the left side of the stage, just a few feet from Jordanna's enormous drum set. She found that throughout most of the show, she couldn't take her eyes off of Jordanna. Personality aside, the woman was an amazing drummer with a tremendous stage presence. You couldn't take that away from her.

Toward the end of the show, Jordanna stepped out from behind the drums. She walked confidently across the stage, shook hands with a few fans and sat down on a stool that was right on the edge of the stage. Next to her was Kelly, her acoustic guitar in her hands. The lights dimmed. The only lights to be seen in the arena were the two spotlights that they had shining on Jordanna and Kelly and the red glow of the exit signs.

Jordanna looked down and closed her eyes- as Kelly began softly strumming her guitar. A beautiful voice sang out the first few lyrics of the song. The audience went still. Jordanna kept her eyes closed as she sang. When the song ended, she opened her eyes and something told her to look to the left side of the stage. What she saw was the reporter watching her with a dreamy, far-away, look on her face.

At that moment, Rebecca snapped out of her trance. She could feel the glare of those intense blue eyes looking at her. She looked away when she thought she saw the drummer, who was now walking back to her drum set, wink at her.

Oh God, what the hell is going on with you, Rebecca?

Jordanna climbed back behind her drums and smirked. She felt a jolt of desire shoot through her body. Oh yeah, the reporter is mine? looks like I bagged another one.

Linda and Rachel rejoined the two on the stage for the last song of the set. When the song ended the band quickly exited the stage. The lights dimmed again and the crowd spent the next few minutes stomping their feet, waiting for the band to return to the stage.

A few minutes later, four silhouettes walked back out and took their places on the stage. Kelly teased the crowd with a short little guitar solo before she ripped into the opening chords of AC/DC's 'You Shook Me All Night Long.' Rebecca smiled as the crowd went wild after recognizing the tune. Being a child of the 1980's, Rebecca had to admit that she loved all the heavy metal hair bands that were popular back then. This happened to be one of her favorite songs, if not her favorite.

She watched as Jordanna slipped a wireless headset microphone on her head and sauntered to the front of the stage. A good looking man, who she assumed was Jordanna's drum tech, climbed behind the drums. The dark-haired woman stood waiting as the band played the musical intro of the song.

Rebecca stood there in rapt fascination and her heart began to pound in questionable anticipation of hearing the dark-haired woman sing the lyrics. She wondered if Jordanna would change the she to a he, as most artists would do covering someone else's songs that specify the wrong gender. Since Jordanna's sexuality was by no means a secret, it wasn't really a wrong gender, so she didn't think she would.

"?She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I've ever seen?"

Rebecca was right. She didn't change it.

Jordanna teased and played the crowd as she sang the provocative lyrics, giving them little glimpses of bare skin, damp with sweat, as she lifted her trademark tank top slightly, making it a point to caress her own stomach and thighs as the audience looked on.

At one point in the song, she danced provocatively around Kelly with moves that reminded Rebecca of a professional stripper, landing on her knees in front of the guitarist. She placed her roaming hands on the guitarist's waist, and she inched her way down Kelly's body until her hands caressed the blushing woman's thighs.

"?She's knockin' me out with those American thighs?"

She moved away from Kelly and slowly eased herself onto the stage, as if she was easing herself on top of a lover, and sang the next few lines of the song as she rocked her hips back and forth, oozing raw sexuality.

"?She told me to come but I was already there?"

Jordanna jolted upright and threw her head back as she sang the line. She crawled to the edge of the stage until she was face to face with a female fan that was screaming her name uncontrollably. Out of nowhere, she kissed the stunned fan on the lips, a kiss that lasted far longer than it should have. Rebecca noticed that she said a few words and slipped something into the fan's hand when she broke the kiss. The woman looked down and smiled.

Whatever it was made her a very happy woman.

The crowd in front went wild and she crawled to the other side of the stage and did the same thing, this time finding a male fan to kiss. Although this kiss didn't last nearly as long and she definitely didn't slip anything into his hand.

After that she stood up and played with the excited crowd some more, ducking as a few bras and panties came flying her way. She caught a pair of black lace panties, draped them over her shoulder as she sang, and finally hung them on her cymbal stand when the song came to a close.

As she started to walk back to her drums, an over-excited fan jumped on the stage and ran to her, wrapping her arms around the startled drummer. Jordanna's bodyguard and several members of the arena's security team ran onto the stage and quickly pulled the kicking and screaming woman off of Jordanna. They forcefully removed the overzealous fan from the auditorium.

Rebecca had seen many musicians tease the crowd like Jordanna had just done, but none of them had the affect that the dark-haired woman did. The reporter looked up and Jordanna's gaze was directly on her as she walked by to climb back behind the drums. This time she was positive that Jordanna had winked at her.

The band played one more original song, and the lights in the auditorium went on. The four women accepted flowers, stuffed animals and other things from some of the fans in the front row before they left the stage. The reporter noticed Jordanna's bodyguard quickly rushed to her side as she interacted with the fans.

Chapter 3

The room backstage was dark and filled with people. There were tables lined up against the back wall loaded with food and drink of all kinds. Rebecca grabbed a plate and helped herself to some food as her stomach announced to the room that she was hungry. She found a chair in the corner and sat down. As she ate, she watched the people in the room with interest. They were all anxiously waiting for the band members to finish showering and come out to join the crowd.

She noticed some people going in and out of another room off to the side. She stood up, threw out her plate and headed that way. As she walked through the door she saw the room full of scantily clad women and a few men waiting for the band.

Sheesh, groupies!

Her first thought went to the drummer, wondering if she would end up with one of the women that were waiting for her there. Like what did she really care? She laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

Rebecca sensed a buzz go through the room, and realized that someone from the band must have made their presence known. She caught a quick glimpse of the drummer, standing in the corner, her hair still slightly damp from her shower, with at least two dozen women around her fawning at her feet.

Oh please, how pathetic.

Rebecca shook her head as she watched a woman pull her blouse up so Jordanna could autograph the skin just above a bare breast in black magic marker. The drummer moved in front of the woman to block the view from the others in the room, opened up the marker and went to sign the autograph. The woman moved a bit, which Rebecca believed was done on purpose, and the drummer's hand grazed a nipple. Jordanna smiled afterward and said a few things to the woman, shaking her head up and down as she did so.

The proud groupie smiled brightly as a friend took a few posed photos of her with the drummer standing behind her, arms wrapped around the groupie's waist, and her hands cupping the girl's bare breasts.

Rebecca shook her head in disgust.

The woman's a pig.

Rebecca then realized that the smiling groupie was none other than the woman that Jordanna had kissed from the audience. She had a silk backstage pass on her very sheer blouse, and Jordanna planted her hand firmly on the woman's denim-covered ass. That's what she slipped in her hand after she kissed her, a backstage pass. She's Jordanna's flavor of the night.

The reporter quickly looked away as Jordanna met her eyes and grinned. She had been caught staring at the drummer and her harem. Shit!

Trying to get Jordanna out of her mind, Rebecca spent the rest of the time backstage talking with some of the fans, trying to get a feel as to what it was about the band that appealed to them so much. That was something that she made sure she always did when interviewing a band for a story. Writing from the fans' perspective always paid off with the sale of more magazines. Who would know what the fans want to read about better than the fans themselves?

Most of the people she spoke to had said that Jordanna was what appealed to them most. She wasn't surprised. She thought that maybe she should write about Jordanna's seduction techniques instead of her musical ability. She knew that would be a big seller. It certainly worked well enough for the drummer, who had since slipped away with the woman from the audience and another woman who Rebecca assumed was a friend of the fan.

As the night wore on, the janitorial crew came in to clean the rooms and everyone started getting ready to hop on the plane for the flight to the next city on the tour, Philadelphia. Rebecca figured she had better use the restroom before she got on the plane because she sworn to herself that she would never again use an airline bathroom. Unless, of course, she was presented with the appetizing opportunity to join the mile high club, which had so far eluded her.

She walked through the door of the mid-sized bathroom, stopping briefly to take a look at her reflection in the mirror. I look tired. Gee, I haven't really been home for a few weeks, I wonder why?

Her eyes swept through the bathroom and all of the stalls were in use except for the last one. As she pushed the door open to go in, her eyes caught sight of Jordanna, standing on the toilet seat with her back slouched and leaning against the wall behind her, her hands were propped up against both walls, holding her weak body up. Her eyes were closed and her jeans and panties were hanging from a hook on the back of the door. Her denim shirt was on but partially unbuttoned. The woman she kissed from the audience was sitting, legs straddled on the front of the toilet seat, facing Jordanna, her face buried between the drummer's swaying legs. Jordanna quickly tangled her hands in the woman's long strawberry blonde hair, pushing the fan's head deeper between her legs.

Jordanna leaned back against the wall slightly and let out a soft moan. "Oh yeah, baby, just like that. Work that wonderful tongue for me."

Rebecca got the surprise of her life as the sight caused heat to begin to build between her own legs. She backed out of the stall as quickly as possible, hoping that both women were too caught up in what they were doing to notice that she had accidentally walked in on them. As she was walking away, she heard the drummer growl a low guttural moan from deep within her throat, announcing her release to all of the other unfazed occupants of the bathroom. Apparently, this was something that they had heard before.

The reporter stopped at the sink to wash her hands, ran some cold water, splashed it on her face and left the bathroom.

Jordanna's legs were extremely weak and she could feel herself sliding down the back wall. "That's enough, baby."

The woman between her legs had either not heard her or just didn't want to stop. Jordanna was not one to admit that she had a weakness and couldn't hold herself up any longer. She angrily pulled the girl by the hair and made her look up into ice blue eyes. "I said? that's fucking enough!"

The shocked young woman moved away quickly, allowing the drummer to jump off of the seat and land unsteadily on the floor. She leaned one hand against the wall, using it as support and grabbed her jeans and panties with the other.

The woman from the audience adjusted her own wrinkled clothing as Jordanna pulled on her jeans and buttoned up her shirt. She stood there waiting as Jordanna finished getting dressed, not realizing that the drummer was through with her for the night. The dark-haired woman stopped tying her sneaker and looked up at the woman. "You were great, baby, thanks."

The woman remained standing there, just looking at her.

Jordanna glared at her. "What in the hell are you waiting for, my fucking phone number? I said thanks already." She handed the girl her panties. "Here, a souvenir to always remember me by."

The woman took the panties out of the drummer's hand and stomped out of the stall, letting the door slam behind her, glaring at the various occupants of the bathroom that had heard that last exchange. Her friend walked up to her and joined her on their way out of the bathroom.

Jordanna whistled as she finished putting on her sneakers- and stood up slowly to make sure her legs were working again before she walked contentedly out of the stall, stopping to wash her hands and then fix her hair in front of the mirror.

Most of the band and crew were already settled in their seats on the plane. A still very embarrassed Rebecca looked around and decided to sit down in an empty seat next to Linda, who she knew was the quiet member of the group. "Mind if I sit here?"

Linda looked up from the magazine she was reading, surprised to see the young, attractive reporter. "Uh? no, not at all. Um, aren't you supposed to be working with Jordanna?"

Rebecca sat down and took a minute to look at the guitarist's body, realizing that the woman must lift weights in her spare time. "Yeah, I am."

"Why aren't you then?"

Rebecca blushed. "She's um? busy."

Linda laughed. "Ah, say no more."

Rebecca leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, hoping that by doing that, the image of the drummer and the woman in the bathroom that kept flashing through her mind would go away. When it didn't, she opened her eyes again and looked at the guitarist, who had gone back to the magazine that she was reading. Rebecca cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "How long have you been body building, Linda?"

Linda smiled, the subject being one of her favorites to talk about. "Five years."

"It's a lot of hard work, no?"

"It can be grueling sometimes, but I find it to be very relaxing."

"I hate working out." Rebecca frowned. "Not that I hate it, I just don't have the time anymore between the job and trying to see my daughter."

"How old is your daughter?" the guitarist questioned, putting her magazine on the armrest between the seats.

"She just turned five."

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm 27."

"Ahhh? I thought you looked kind of young."

"Tell my body that," the reporter said with a yawn. "So, are there rooms on this thing or does everyone just sleep in the seats?"

Linda laughed and shook her head. "The plane does have a few rooms in the back where we sleep or go for some privacy." Her face turned red. She wasn't sure if the young woman understood what she meant.

"Oh." Rebecca did understand, all too well. After the comment, green eyes immediately scanned the cabin looking for the tall, dark drummer. She was nowhere to be found. 'Why am I not surprised?' she thought to herself. What did surprise Rebecca was the fact that she was disappointed when she realized Jordanna wasn't there and was probably in her room for some privacy. At least she's behind closed doors this time, thank God.

"I can take you for a tour if you'd like," the guitarist offered. "Once we take off and hit cruising speed, of course."

Rebecca turned her head and looked at the guitarist. "Yeah, I'd like a tour, thanks."

After Linda showed her around the plane and they were back in their seats, Rebecca decided that she would see what kind of information she could get out of the guitarist. "Thanks for the tour. Um? would you mind if I ask you a few questions about the band?"

Uh oh. Here we go. "No, not at all." The guitarist rubbed her temple.

"Did you all live near each other when you were growing up?" the younger woman asked, not wasting any time.

"Well? Rachel, Kelly and Jordanna all grew up in the same town on Long Island and they went to school together. I'm from the Bronx." Linda offered as an answer.

She continued questioning Linda. "How did you meet up with them?"

Linda shifted in her seat nervously and thought back to the ad in the local paper that the three of them had placed. "They placed an ad looking for a lead vocalist and I answered it. At that time they were practicing in Rachel's basement, so I went to Rachel's house to jam with them to see if it was really her? I mean if they had sound I was looking for."

Huh, what in the hell? If it was really her? Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "I guess they did, huh?"

The guitarist had to smile at the thought. "Oh yeah. Exactly what I was looking for."

Rebecca wanted to keep her talking. "So you practiced in Rachel's basement. How did you guys end up playing the clubs?"

"Rachel's father is a musician. That's why we practiced at her house. He had all the equipment we needed there so we didn't have to drag instruments back and forth. His band played all the clubs. He knew most of the owners and got us some gigs. They also knew Rachel cause she was always at all of his shows. So he really played a big part in it."

"I think about 15 people came to the first show we did," she continued with a chuckle. "Most of them were our family members. Word spread and the clubs started getting more and more packed. We played a few shows in the city, but most of them were on the Island. After a while, I got tired of commuting so I decided to move to the Island. Jordanna told me I could stay with her at her house while I was looking for an apartment."

She turned to the reporter. "Hey, I'm gonna get something to drink, you want something?" the guitarist asked while getting up from her seat.

"Soda would be fine, thanks," Rebecca answered, noticing at that moment that her throat was very dry.

"You got it. Be right back." Rebecca watched as Linda went to the refrigerator in the back of the plane. The reporter could feel that the guitarist was starting to feel at ease with her. This is good. Keep her talking.

Linda returned and handed Rebecca a bottle of Coke. "Thanks." She took a sip of her soda and continued. "You were mentioning that you moved in with Jordanna while you were looking for a place. How did you guys get along? She seems so?." Rebecca paused looking for the right word.

"Unreachable." Linda found the right word for her. "Yeah, she's not the easiest person to get along with. She's got a lot going on in that head of hers? it's very hard to read her. She's terribly misunderstood, though."

The reporter let the words sink in. She knew that there was something more to the story. Rebecca ran her hands through her hair. "What do you mean when you say that she is misunderstood?"

Linda shifted slightly. "Jordanna is definitely not the person she wants everyone to think she is. She's had a rough life. She had a lot of problems when she was a teenager. I think that has a lot to do with the way she acts now. It's kind of sad, really. But?uh, I guess that is her story to tell though."

Maybe she'll tell me all about it the next time I walk in on her having sex with someone. "Yeah, like she's really going to open up and tell me all of it." Embarrassed that she had said what she was thinking out loud, Rebecca turned and looked away. Her thoughts went back to the conversation and she picked up on something else- the fact that Linda seems to have had some sort of past with the drummer.

At that moment both Rebecca and Linda saw the drummer coming out of one of the back rooms with a woman they didn't recognize. Rebecca cringed. On to the next flavor, huh, Jordanna?

The two walked by and took seats in the front of the plane. Linda looked away with sadness in her eyes.

Noticing the change in the guitarist, Rebecca put her hand on Linda's. "Are you all right?"

Linda smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It just hurts sometimes when I see her like that," the guitarist admitted.

Bingo. I knew it. "You two were involved once?" the reporter asked without thinking.

Linda's eyes opened wide.

Rebecca's face immediately turned red. "I'm so sorry, that's your business. I shouldn't have asked."

Linda sighed. "No, it's okay. It's not like everyone doesn't know about it already."

She turned to look the reporter in the eye and shifted in her seat. "Not too long after I moved in with her we um? became intimate. Like so many other people have found out, it's very hard to resist her charm. One day I got home and I uh? walked in our bedroom and found her in bed with another woman." She stopped and sighed.

"She had no remorse, no guilt. She acted like I should have expected her to do that and understand it. Well, I didn't understand. So that was it for us." With a look of failure on her face, Linda closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat.

Rebecca was lost in her thoughts. Let's rewind this conversation a little now, shall we...

Her charm? You call that charm?

"Listen, I'm going to be honest, Linda. I really don't understand your lifestyle but?" she said and paused, seeing the pain on Linda's face she realized how much she felt for the guitarist. "I can imagine how much she must have hurt you by doing that. Remember, someone like her can only get away with the things they do for so long without having to be accountable for them."

"Yeah, you are right. She is and will be accountable for her actions," Linda said with a yawn. "Listen, tomorrow is gonna be a long day so we better get some rest. There should be an extra room available, but if there isn't you can crash with me."

They quietly walked to the back of the plane to find all of the rooms in use, except for Linda and Jordanna's. Agreeing that Rebecca would room with Linda that night, they set out to find her carry on. When they didn't find it in any of the rooms that were occupied, they figured it was probably in with Jordanna's things since she came with her and Jerry in the limo.

Rebecca started to go to speak to Jordanna about her carry on. "Wait. Let me go talk to her," Linda said, wanting to spare the reporter from a confrontation with the difficult drummer.

"No, that's okay, I can handle it," Rebecca replied. She found Jordanna sitting in a seat with her star struck guest standing in front of her, leaning her back on the seat in front of them. When Rebecca got a better look she realized Jordanna's hands were slowly working their way under the giggling woman's shirt.

Embarrassed and uncomfortable that she had to witness another of Jordanna's displays, Rebecca cleared her throat to announce her presence. "Um, Jordanna? I'm uh, sorry to bother you but?. I, I was looking for my carry on and was wondering if you saw it in your room."

Jordanna made no attempt to hide what she was doing. In fact, seeing the unquestionably embarrassed reporter there gave her all the more incentive to give her an even better show. She had admitted to herself that she was instantly attracted to Rebecca when she first saw her. There was something about her that grabbed her in more ways than one, although she couldn't quite put a finger on it.

What she could put her finger on was the fact that she wanted to put her fingers and various other body parts on Rebecca.

Jordanna noticed that the reporter couldn't take her eyes off her thumbs, which just happened to be rubbing lazy circles around the delighted woman's attentive nipples. "You like that, huh?"

"Oh yeah." The woman she was with answered, but Jordanna's eyes locked with Rebecca's, making it clear as to who the question was really directed at.

The raven-haired woman smiled and decided to play. "I had your things sent to my room, Rebecca. I figured that you would be spending the night with me." She looked at the woman standing in front of her and winked. "You don't mind sharing me with the kid, do you?"

Linda, who followed Rebecca despite her protests, scowled. "Damn it, Jordanna, knock it off and grow up already! Can't you fucking be serious for once in your life?"

A wolfish grin made its way across Jordanna's face. "I am being serious. I know, you want her all to yourself, Lin? That's it, isn't it?" the drummer replied. "I know I told you I thought you needed to get laid, Linda, I just didn't mean that you should do it with one of my women."

Rebecca scowled. Me??? One of her women???? I think not! "Don't you ever, and I mean ever, call me that again, Jordanna! I am not, nor will I ever be one of your women," Rebecca screamed at the drummer on the top of her lungs, drawing the attention of the plane's other occupants. She was tired and in no mood for Jordanna's teasing. "Just let me get my fucking luggage out of your room, please?"

Jordanna put her hands over her ears. "Whoa, girl? My virgin ears!" she teased, trying not to smirk but failing miserably.

Rebecca didn't see the humor in it.

"Shit, can't a girl have a little fun around here?" Jordanna got up and headed toward her room. "C'mon, let's go," she called out to the reporter, not waiting for her to catch up.

Rebecca walked quickly and caught up with her, following her into the room. She noticed the messy, unmade bed as soon as she stepped in. She walked past the drummer when she saw what she was looking for, grabbed her luggage and was on her way out of the room when Jordanna stepped in front of her, blocking her from leaving. She leaned down and whispered in the reporter's ear. "Sure you don't want to spend the night with me? I promise, you won't be sorry if you do."

A look of disgust swept across the young woman's face. "Not if you were the last person on earth," she said as she walked out of the small room, slamming the door behind her.

Jordanna sat down on the bed and smiled. God, she's cute.

Philadelphia, PA

Sometime in the early hours, they arrived at the hotel in Philadelphia. After getting checked in, most of the band and crew opted to get a few hours of sleep.

Deciding to relax in the hotel's heated pool, Rebecca went into the bathroom to change into her bathing suit. She slipped into her navy one piece before she pulled a long tee shirt over her head. She walked out of the bathroom and grabbed a towel. She tied it around her waist and slipped out of her hotel room, making her way to the pool. She felt very stressed over this assignment, and figured that a good swim would calm her down.

Hoping that there were no screaming children around, she opened the door and made her way through the gym to get to the pool.

Thankful that she heard no screaming when she opened the door, she cut around the corner and looked through the window at the pool, catching a pair of blue eyes looking back at her. The drummer was standing in the pool directly between the shallow and deep ends, with her back against the wall. She had two female 'friends' attached to her like velcro.

Oh shit? she saw you. It's too late to back out now.

Rebecca hesitated as she pulled the door open, and noticed the blue eyes were still completely focused on her.

An eyebrow lifted? and the drummer's heart started pounding as she caught sight of the reporter. She could tell that Rebecca wasn't sure if she wanted to take the swim that she had obviously come there for. "You can come in. This is a public pool," the dark-haired woman said.

Rebecca didn't say a word- she just walked over to a chair and put her towel down. Even though her back was turned, she could feel Jordanna's eyes still on her as she stripped out of her shirt. When she turned to walk to the pool, she confirmed her feeling, as her eyes locked with the drummer's once again.

Resisting the urge to dive in to escape the gaze, she slowly stepped into the shallow end of the pool and immediately went under water. When she emerged, Jordanna's lips were locked with the blonde woman attached to the right side of her body. They kissed fiercely and passionately, and Rebecca could see that there was a definite exchange of bodily fluids going on between the two.

And she could feel her own body reacting to the sight in front of her.

Rebecca watched the woman that was left out pout as the drummer and the blonde kissed. "Hey, what about me?" the woman whined, after the kiss had ended.

"C'mere?" the dark-haired woman said, noticing that the reporter's green eyes were on her.

She's watching, make this good.

Jordanna smiled sheepishly as she pulled the woman to her. "Do you really think I would leave you out?" she said before she repeated the same kind of hungry kiss she had just shared with the blonde.

Rebecca didn't want to watch, but she found herself inexplicably drawn to the scene unfolding in the pool. 'Why am I finding this so erotic? ' the reporter thought as she tore her eyes away from the drummer. I do not like women. She shook her head when a vision of the drummer kissing her like that flashed in her mind. I do not like women! Especially not her.

She looked up when she heard her name being called out. "Come over here," the drummer said to her. "Please," she added.

Rebecca hesitantly swam closer to the drummer and her entourage. "What?"

"I'd like to introduce you to my friends," the dark woman said. "This is?" she paused and a questioning eyebrow went up when she looked at the blonde woman.

"Cathy," the bubbly woman said.

"Rebecca? this is Cathy and?" she said, pausing again to look at the other woman.

"Monica," the woman said with a giggle.

Rebecca shook her head and said a quick 'hi' before she swam away to do laps in the pool. The dark-haired woman watched her every move, thinking to herself that Rebecca had too beautiful of a body to cover up by wearing a one-piece bathing suit.

The door to the room opened and Gary walked through it with two other women following behind him. 'Hey J- look who I found," he said, thinking the drummer was alone with her two friends. "Oops, sorry, didn't know you had other company."

Jordanna laughed and looked directly into Rebecca's eyes. "Don't worry, there's plenty of me to go around," she said. She swam towards the ladder to get out of the pool. "Gary, did you meet Rebecca last night?"

"No." He looked her over appreciatively. "I would remember a woman as beautiful as her, that's for sure."

"She's a reporter and she's doing an article on of all things? me."

"Oh boy," Gary said, knowing just how much Jordanna loved to deal with the media. "Nice to meet you, Rebecca. I'm the band's stage manager and J's drum tech. If you want the inside scoop on this difficult woman here, I'm the one to ask."

"You wouldn't dare, Gary." Jordanna slowly climbed up the ladder and got out of the pool. "Cause if you did, playtime with Jordanna would be over for you."

Rebecca's heart began to pound as she watched the drummer. She had a black thong bikini on that left very little to the imagination. 'God, what a nice ass,' the reporter thought. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Checking out a woman's ass? What in the hell is happening to me?

Jordanna walked over to a chair, picked up her towel and began to dry herself off with it. She handed a towel to each of her friends and walked over to where Gary was standing. "So, who do we have here?" she said as she rubbed her hand across the one woman's back.

The reporter heard bits of conversation as she watched the dark-haired drummer familiarize herself with the woman's body, caressing her in areas that were crying out for attention on her own body. Lost in her thoughts, Rebecca heard Jordanna suggesting that they continue their little party in her hotel room. The dark-haired woman turned and looked at the reporter. "You are more than welcome to join us," she said. "Like I said, there's plenty of me to go around."

"Like I said last night, Jordanna, not if you were the last person on earth," the reporter responded, before she continued on with her laps. You stuck up, sex crazed, egomaniac?

"Whoo hoo hoo, J, I do believe a woman has officially refused your advances for the first time ever," Gary said laughing, loving every minute of it.

Jordanna looked at him with a smirk. "It's not the first time, Gary."

"No?"

"She refused my advances last night on the plane, too." She turned and looked at the woman in the pool, who was looking back at her. "But she can only refuse me for so long? I always get what I want? always."

"Well, there's always a first time for everything. Sometimes you can't always get what you want," Rebecca mumbled under her breath, but she knew the dark-haired woman had heard her when she cheerfully began to sing the Rolling Stones' song by the same name. The drummer then flashed a predatory smile and winked at her before opening the door.

"I'm in room 1252 if you're interested, Rebecca? just in case you change your mind or something." The drummer walked out and slammed the door shut behind her.

"I won't," the reporter replied, speaking only to the empty room.

**

Happy to be away from the drummer and her friends, Rebecca went into her hotel room and turned the television on before she dialed the office number to give John an update.

"You are going to owe me big time for this one, John." This time it was Rebecca's turn to start off a conversation without any greetings.

"Wha?Rebecca? I guess I don't have to ask you how it's going." Rebecca's voice gave the whole story away. "Where are you now?" he asked.

"How's it going? HOW'S IT GOING?" she said, her voice getting louder with each word she said. "Shitty, that's how! Good grief, Jordanna Fox has got to be the most frustrating person I have ever met." She paused a few seconds. "We're in Philly right now. How much more of this do I have to endure?"

"That bad, huh?" he asked quietly. "You are supposed to travel with them for the rest of the tour. They wind up the tour in New York."

"The REST of the tour? You've got to be kidding me! Exactly how long is that? I don't know about this, John."

John cleared his throat. "Well, um, how bad can she be, Rebecca? I know she has quite the reputation, but? what about the others?"

She snorted. "Well, the rest of the band are real nice. Linda's been great. But Jordanna?" she sighed. "Everything she says is either an insult or sexual innuendo. Let me tell you, her reputation is definitely not over exaggerated. I mean, I already saw her?"

"Saw her doing what, Rebecca?"

"I um, saw her?"

Rebecca knew that if John found out what she had seen in the bathroom, he would somehow want that written into her article. After all, sex did sell, and apparently that's why Jordanna was such a hot commodity.

She also knew that the reason the band's management wanted the troubled drummer to go along with the assignment was because of the bad press she was receiving. And something? something made her feel slightly protective of the woman, she just didn't know what. Lord knows, Jordanna didn't deserve it. And if Rebecca asked her, she was sure the drummer would tell her she didn't want it.

But she decided, if only for her own conscience, that she was going to protect her, anyway. "I saw her holding hands with a woman," she lied.

John laughed. "That's it? You saw her holding hands? I didn't know you were such a prude, Rebecca!"

A prude? Why am I lying for this woman? Why can't she just behave? She wouldn't have to worry about bad press if she just kept her damn legs shut.

"I am not a prude."

"Think what you want," he snorted. "Keep your chin up, kid. She doesn't sound so bad. You'll be fine."

'Easy for you to say,' she thought as she hung up the phone. She cursed him silently for sending her on this horrible assignment. Then a smile crossed her face. She dialed the number to her ex-husband's home.

"Hello," the soft-spoken voice said. It was Anna, David's live-in girlfriend.

"Hi, Anna, its Rebecca. Can I speak to Cindy?"

The reporter hadn't experienced any of the problems that most ex's went through with their former husband's new girlfriends. In fact, as much as she hated to admit it, she liked Anna. The pair had invited Rebecca over for dinner on numerous occasions.

"Hey, Becky. Cindy's not here right now. Dave took her and a neighbor to the park a couple of hours ago. They should be back soon," she said and paused. "So, I hear that they sent you off on another assignment before you could even unpack. What are you working on?"

"I'm touring with Plenty of Nothing right now."

Anna screamed with excitement. "Oh my God! I love them! Have you met Jordanna yet?"

Rebecca sighed. "Yes, I have met her."

"What's she like?"

The reporter didn't know what to say. "She's um? um? she's a great drummer."

"Have you seen her with a woman yet?" Anna whispered softly, as if someone was listening to the taboo conversation.

Rebecca had to laugh. She always wondered why straight people, who are supposedly so opposed to homosexuality, are so interested in it? "Yes, she's um? very open about her sexuality, Anna, why?"

"Just curious."

Rebecca closed her eyes. "I have to go, Anna. Can you let Cindy know that I called and that I love her and will call back later? Oh, and give her a kiss for me," she asked, as an after thought.

"No problem, Beck, I will. Take care."

With her phone calls taken care of, Rebecca found herself rearranging everything that she had already removed from her suitcase. Bored, she found herself thinking of her failed marriage and how much she missed seeing her daughter.

Rebecca McCarthy was an honor roll student through her high school years at Lancaster High, in her Lancaster, Pennsylvania hometown. She always loved writing- anything from stories and poetry, to letters to friends. She spent her after hours as editor of the school newspaper and on the yearbook committee. It got her mind away from her small town, farming community roots and took her places that she always dreamed of going.

Her parents, however, had other dreams for her. They expected her, as the eldest of three children, to marry a local boy and take over the family's prosperous farm. They didn't want to hear it when she originally told them of her dreams of becoming a journalist, travelling the globe, and meeting the interesting people that were not a part of their world.

While they made wedding plans for her, she was secretly applying to colleges. Her parents questioned what she was up to when the responses began arriving in their mailbox. On the day the mailman delivered the acceptance letter from New York University, she decided to come clean and tell them that she planned on moving to Manhattan to pursue a degree in journalism from NYU. They were not pleased.

They all sat down at the kitchen table as Rebecca convinced her parents that her dreams were sincere, and that she fully intended to make them come true. She also told them that she had no interest in running the farm or marrying a boy that she didn't love. When asked why she didn't tell them this sooner, she told them that she wanted to spare them of the hurt and disappointment.

They were hurt, but they loved their daughter enough to know that she was different from the kids she had grown up with. So in August of 1989, she packed up her belongings and hit the road, driving until the intimidating skyscrapers and buildings of New York City came into view.

She met David Hurley in her second year of school. A popular student, David was in his third year, and took an immediate liking to the young blonde. She refused the first few times he asked her out, thinking of him only as a study partner and not someone she could ever be attracted to romantically. She finally consented to a date, just to get him to stop begging her.

He took her out to a fancy restaurant and wined and dined her. Slightly inebriated, they found themselves at an underground club where the music, the alcohol, and the drugs got the best of them. Laughing the whole walk back to the school, the usually reserved Rebecca invited David to spend the night with her. Three weeks later, she quit school. The couple found a justice of the peace and got married. Rebecca thought she was in love.

She found out soon enough that she wasn't. She was in love with idea of being in love. It didn't take very long for Rebecca to realize that she had made a big mistake. She began looking through the classifieds for jobs, and saw an ad for a position at a music magazine not far from their small apartment. She knew it was a long shot, since she didn't have a college degree, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

Two days after her interview with the magazine's editor-in-chief, she got a call back telling her that she had gotten the job. She began spending countless hours at the magazine, working her way up from the entry-level position she was hired for to the unheard of offer to join the magazine's writing staff. She was beyond shocked when John offered the position to her, rather than fill it with a much more experienced and proven writer than she was. She told him that he wouldn't be disappointed. He wasn't.

David was happy for her when she told him about the promotion, but wasn't very happy that it would entail a lot of travel. She, on the other hand, was thrilled. She thoroughly enjoyed her time away, meeting with the musicians she admired and travelling to places that she had never dreamed she'd have the opportunity to visit.

On a break during the Christmas holidays, Rebecca gave an ecstatic David the news that she was pregnant. Nine months later, Cynthia Marie Hurley was born.

Hours later, Rebecca woke to loud knocking on her hotel room door. She rubbed her sleepy eyes as she answered the door. A road crew member, whose name she conveniently forgot, was standing there. "Ready to go to the show?"

She looked at her watch and cursed, realizing that she slept far longer than she should have. The show was due to start in an hour and a half. "Shit, give me 10 minutes, okay?"

The roadie nodded. "Meet us in the lobby, okay?"

"Yep, I'll be there."

Continued in Part 2.