You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

Billie woke up the next as the first hint of sunlight crept into the room. He blindly reached out to find Ava, his hand fumbling until he found her side and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. He opened a sleepy eye to see her curled against his bare arm; hair falling over the pillow, pale skin against his, regular, relaxed breathing. She murmured and cuddled closer into his embrace and he smiled to himself. She looked defenseless in sleep, barriers down and, well, happy.

Billie absentmindedly ran his hand through her hair, remembering the hundreds, hell thousands, of mornings he'd woken up with Adrienne next to him. He'd watched her sleep a thousand times, nights when he was up with insomnia or worry. He'd always thought that she looked like a fucking angel and wondered what the hell he ever did to deserve her.

He didn't.

“Hi,” She said, opening one eye and lifting her head off the pillow to look at him then his hand in her hair.

He was startled out of his thoughts, but grinned none the less. “Hey, baby,” He whispered. “Go back to sleep, it's early.”

“'Kay.” She moved closer to him until her wrapped her up in his arms, snuggling into his chest. He kissed her forehead once, memorizing the feel of her skin against his lips while he still had the chance. How much longer was he going to be able to keep up this game?

***********************************************************************************

Ava threw her bag down and plopped onto the sofa, crossing her arms. She was still sweaty from the show and emotionally exhausted from an earlier conversation with the adulterous ex douche bag Dave. Add Tre and Mike fucking with her for god knows what and she was about ready to throw in the towel and take up a new profession all together. A call girl? Too trashy. Writer? Nah, she'd never really been a fan of sitting in coffee so that people could watch her brood over existential crisis via Mac and drinking beverages with fancy names that really just looked like hot diarrhea. Italian, my ass. Maybe an accountant? She'd always been good with numbers...

“Ava, baby, what's wrong?” She looked up from her mental monologue, and her expression softened when she saw Andy.

“Life.” She sighed and he couldn't help but grin.

“Yeah, you should write a book. 'The Life and Times of Ava Watson: Totally Hot Babe With an Awesome Ass, Kicking Band, and Record Deal Bitches About the Injustices of Being A Talented Well-to-do Musician. Do I smell a New York Times Bestseller?”

She pulled a black high top sneaker from her right foot and hurled it towards Andy. He sidestepped the blow and caught the flying shoe by the laces, grinning.

“Hey, I know what will cheer you up. There's gonna be a show tonight, down in some hole in the wall that smells like rotting gym socks, smoke, and cheap perfume, classic downtown New York style. Lot's of local bands, booze, people dropping acid and their pants, sounds like a good time...” He trailed off.

“Will it be loud?”

“It's punk, Ava. Volume is pretty much a money back guarantee.”

“Okay, I'm in. Let's go.” She reached for the shoe still suspended in his hand.

“You're not gonna shower or change or spend an hour doing your hair or anything vain?” He asked, letting the sneaker drop.

She shot him a reproachful look, slipping the beat up shoe onto her foot and pulling at the laces like they owed her money. “I feel like shit, so trying to look any different just seems like a big fucking waste of time.

“Okay, boss, let's go get shitfaced.”

***********************************************************************************

Two hours and five shots later Ava was in the back room of some club she'd forgotten the name swirling a red plastic cup in her hand, peeking in to get a good look at its contents.

“Andy, what's in this?” She asked, just starting to slur her words. Ava had been behaving herself on the tour so far (aside from fucking Billie Joe Armstrong on a regular basis) and was ready to let loose tonight.

“I think there's like a hit of acid in there.” He answered, taking a puff from his joint and passing it to the slutty girl with Cleopatra make-up that was currently occupying his lap and sliding her hand down his pants.

And that was about as much as she wanted to see of that.

Ava shrugged, looking into the cup. Hell, life is short, she thought and drank the whole thing in one gulp.

“How you feeling?” Andy called a few minutes later.

“I'm like, almost tripping.”

“Yeah?” He smiled and the Egyptian girl on his lap looked like she was starting to get jealous.

“Oh yeah,” She grinned. Ava loved jealousy.

“Hey, pretty girl.” A beefy guy covered in tattoos of skulls and other goth memorabilia that pissed off Ava and made her lose all hope in the world said, putting a hand on her ass. “What's happening?”

Under normal circumstances, Ava would have threatened to castrate the fucker using multiple methods of medieval torture, but the acid in her system was leaving her feeling more vulnerable than she was generally accustomed to.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asked, moving his hand to secure a firm grasp on her waist.

Ava was looking for any excuse to get away from creepy macho metal man when she felt her phone ringing through the leather of her skirt. She pushed him away and grabbed it.

“HELLO?” She shouted over the music.

“Hey, Aves. We just finished out show, I was looking around for you -What's all that noise? Where the hell are you?”

“At a club, downtown, I think. I don't remember. There's a volcano. Lot's of lava.” She said looking up to see a giant mural of one.

“Lava? Ava, are you high?” His voice was incredulous.

“Yeah,” She answered, stumbling against the metal guy again.

“You okay, princess?” He asked. “I can take care of you if you need some help.”

“Ava, who's that?” Billie barked from the phone. Between the two guys and two conversations, Ava's mind was starting to spin.

“I dunno,” She moaned, swiveling on her feet.

“Ava, let me come get you.”

“Fuck off. I don't need you to come rescue me, Billie. I'm a big girl.” She was getting angry and he knew she'd hang up the phone soon.

“Is he giving you a hard time, sugar? I can get you outta here.”

“Who are you talking to?” He demanded.

“None of your business, daddy.”

Billie rolled his eyes. “Dammit, Ava! Just figure out where you are!”

“Will you leave me the fuck alone if I do?”

“Yes,” He sighed.

“Okay.” She pulled the receiver away from her mouth. “What the fuck is this place called?” She called out.

“The fucking Pit!”

“There, happy? I'm going now.”

“Ava if you hang up that phone-” The line went dead.

Billie cursed, throwing his phone to the ground and grabbed his leather jacket. He was out the door and off to find someone who had a fucking car that he could borrow. Maybe Ben the manager? Now where the fuck would he be at 1 AM?

“Bill! Where are you off to?” Tre asked, stopping to watch him storm down the hall.

“To find a fucking pit.”

***********************************************************************************
An hour later Billie had made his way through downtown New York and double parked the borrowed car in front of the club. He ran inside and had to take a minute to gather his surroundings with all of the smoke and bodies on the ground. People kissing, people smoking, people fighting, people fucking. Amidst the disorder he thought he saw a head of red hair and a pair of pale legs with an all too familiar mini skirt at the top.

“Ava?” He asked, leaning down to get a better look. Some huge guy had his hands all over her, but she was ignoring him, just kinda starring.

“Ava” She said louder, reaching out to shake her.

“Billie?” She tried to stand up and make her way towards him, falling to the side then catching herself and sliding down. He rushed over and caught her under her arms, pulling her back to her feet.

“Ava, what the hell are you doing?”

“How are you here?”

“What?”

“The lava, Billie. You're burning up.” She was clinging to his arm, trying to pull her feet up and stumbling.

“Hey man, what the fuck do you think you're doing?” The guy on the ground was standing up and making his way towards Billie. He sounded like the fucker from the phone call earlier. He was fucking huge, and Billie Joe wasn't really looking to get his ass kicked on the rescue mission of the night.

“Okay, Ava, time to go.”

“Where? There's lava,” She hummed.

“Hey, she was with me. I was about to get laid.” The guy shoved Billie.

“Okay, come on.” He said with more urgency as he picked her up around the waist and threw her over his shoulder, marching her out of the smoke den and into the cool night air.

“Are you fucking deaf? I said, the chick was with me.”

“Okay, asshole. Back the fuck off. She's with me. You thought you were gonna get laid? She's not far from unconscious, you sick fuck.” He started towards the exit, angry. Metal man might have come after them, but they were starting to drawl the attention of the bouncers. He turned around and surveyed the room for his next victim.

“How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” He shifted her weight, grabbing onto her legs to, her head bouncing against his back.

“Walking. The lava's everywhere.”

“I'm magic, baby.” He sighed, ignoring the club owner yelling at him about the car.

“You fucking blocked the street, asshole! How the fuck is traffic supposed to get through? This is a business! I have the right to call the Fire Marshall for this shit-”

Billie dug a fifty out of his wallet and threw it at the owner. He turned around and went back to the club.

Hey, money does talk.

“Magic, magic, magic,” She chanted, her voice muffled by his shirt. “Magic like faeries and Jesus?”

“Something like that,” He answered distantly, opening the passenger door and shoving her limp body and flailing arms inside. He walked around the front and got in, slamming the door.

“I think I'm gonna be sick.” She said.

“I think you already were.” He answered, looking at the questionable substance dried on her mouth.

She fell over onto his lap, slipping into sleep for the rest of the ride home. He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other running through her messy, sticky hair and occasionally dipping down to rub her back, trying to keep her calm.

After fighting New York traffic for another half hour (he'd never understand how that could still be a notorious problem at two in the morning) Billie parked the car by the back entrance of the stadium that was luckily deserted. He pulled Ava out of the car and she grabbed onto him again.

“Where we goin'?” She asked, wide eyed.

“Showers.” He answered, slipping through the big back door and carrying her down the hallway.

“Shower sex?” She asked, giggling.

“Maybe after you get cleaned up. You reek, baby.”

“Hey,” She protested.

“Sorry.” Billie laughed, in spite of the terrible situation. He opened the door to the nearest locker room and took her in. He sat her down on the tile floor and went to turn on the water, keeping it cool.

“Okay, Aves, let's go. He pulled her towards the shower under her arms and stood her up. She managed to keep her balance while he helped her clumsy fingers take off her clothes. Then he pushed her under the water.

“Cold!” She yelped jumping back into his arms.

“I know,” He sighed, she'd gotten his shirt all wet. “It wouldn't have to be if you hadn't had to go and trip on all that acid.”

“Sorry.” She answered sheepishly.

He laughed. “I didn't know that word was in your vocabulary.”

“I'm in rare form tonight.”

“You gonna be good for a few minutes? I'm gonna go find a towel and some coffee for you. The cold should sober you up.”

She nodded.

“Okay, I'll be right back.”

Ten minutes later he was back with a fresh cup of coffee and fluffy white towel, and Ava was still standing under the water, trying to wash out her hair.

“Better?” He asked, turning the nozzle off and wrapping the towel around her.

“Yeah, thanks.” She said, taking the coffee and following him towards the counter to sit down. She was sobering up, but she still wasn't perfectly steady on her feet.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, helping her up onto the counter. Her hair was dark and curly when wet and fell onto her face, sticking to her skin. It was the first time he'd ever seen her without any make-up, but he still thought she looked good. She was a little rough around the edges after the night, but the beads of water running over her pale skin still managed to drive him crazy. God, why were women so much more attractive when they were wet?

“Weird. The acid pretty much wore off. Now I'm just a little tired, and maybe buzzed. I don't think I was ever really piss-ass drunk or anything.” She took a sip of the coffee.

“That's good.” He nodded, watching her drink. They were silent for a long time, waiting for something Billie couldn't quite figure out.

“Thanks,” She said, a little awkwardly. “For er, you know, not leaving me in some drug den to get fucked. Normally I don't like help, especially from a guy, so thanks for not listening to me when I told you to fuck off. And being such a great guy about, well, everything.” She shrugged and looked away, deciding that was enough grateful rambling on her part to last a lifetime.

“Ava, it's not a big deal. I just did what any guy would do.”

“No,” She shook her head, putting down the half emptied coffee mug beside her. “No guy I've ever known would drive into the city at 2 AM to find me in some unknown hole in the wall and bring me back and wash vomit off my face.”She cringed. “That was fucking disgusting.”

He laughed. “I've seen worse.”

She grinned. “Thanks. You're really sweet, and I didn't deserve any of that.”

“What? Bullshit.” He put his hands on her waist, rubbing her side through the terrycloth towel.

“I didn't, Billie. You're a really great guy, and I'm a bitch-”

“Double bullshit.” He said, his eyes stern.

“Stop. I am, and I've accepted that, it's okay. It's just that I've been fucking around with you, and you deserve better than that.”

He sighed. If only she knew who the real asshole in the situation was.

“What is this, Ava? Just sex?”

“At first, yeah, but now, no-”

“Do you like me? Like even a little bit?”

“I thought we'd agreed not to define everything.”

“Do you like me?” His eyes pressed her.

She sighed, scratching her head. “Of course-”

“Then you haven't been taking advantage of me or anything. You don't have to worry about protecting my virtue. I lost any honor I had a long time ago.”

Ava laughed, her eyes shining. Then she dawned a serious mask. “What about you?”

“What about me? I just told you-”

“No, no, no.” She shook her head and droplets of water from her hair hit him in the face. “What do you think of me? I mean, am I just some pin-up girl fantasy in the flesh for you, or is there something more?”

Her words hit him like a dagger. Somehow, their relationship being just sex made it seem a lot less adulterous than if it actually had feelings attached.

“Aren't I with you now?”

“Answering a question with a question,” She reprimanded him, trying to look stern.

“Avoiding the question.” He countered, mirroring the image.

“Fine,” She sighed, “You are.” She trailed off, looking at her feet swinging from the counter.

“So what does that tell you?” He pressed on, cupping her chin and making her look him in the eye. The intensity of his stare threw her off.

“Either that you're crazy and love abuse, or that you're an idiot and it's gonna take more than a few fuck ups to learn you lesson.”

He sighed. “A-va,” He leaned in, framing her wet face in his hands. “I hate to break it to you, baby, but you're not as bitchy as you think.”

“Oh really?” She asked, leaning in closer, challenging him.

“Really.” Their noses were touching, eyes locked at the proximity. He kissed her lips and pulled away right when she was starting to get aroused. “Now that we've established the fact that you have a serious, head over heels crush on me, how about you and me go and christen these community showers, huh?”

“I see sex was the motivation behind your daring rescue tonight.” She mocked him, smiling.

“Hey, shower sex was your idea!”

“Me? That doesn't sound like something I would suggest. Are you trying to take advantage of my impaired state?”

“You wish. I bet you'd love to be taken advantage of.” She felt his breath on her lips.

“You know me too well. Lead the way.” She held out her hand to him and he grinned.

God, he was such a bastard.