You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

“Favorite song.” Billie Joe asked Ava, picking up his chopsticks and and trying to stab a piece of sushi, pushing it around in a bath of soy sauce unsuccessfully.

“That's a hard one,” Ava whined, leaning back against the headboard and digging into her pint of fried rice with a more experienced hand. She'd lived in Chinatown for five years in order to avoid the high living costs of Manhattan and had become quite the Asian cuisine expert.

The pair had decided to meet up at Billie's hotel room in Philadelphia after the show; Billie uncharacteristically declining offers to party with the crew and Ava sneaking to his floor with the help and cover of Danielle. He'd brought a wide variety of Chinese take out back with him, everything from egg drop soup to something that was supposed to be duck but looked more like a greasy piece of rubber. An hour later, the two were still working on the food when the questions started.

“Oh, so you forfeit?” He almost got the sushi that time. The sea weed was starting to unravel.

“Forfeit? Fuck no,” She opposed him quickly, motioning with a sharp clanking of her chopsticks. “I wasn't really aware this was a game.”

“It is now.”

“Okay, what's the prize?” She was being serious.

He raised his eyebrows. “Does there have to be a prize?” He looked at her like he thought she was a freak and didn't care if she knew it or not.

“Well what's the point of winning if there's no prize?” She spoke slowly like she was talking to someone with mental instability. Her appalled stare was so convincing he almost believed it himself for a second, then remembered that she was Ava and if either one of them was crazy, it was her.

“Bragging rights? You seemed to enjoy those before.” He offered. She reached her chopsticks onto his plate, picking up the massacred piece of sushi in one swift movement and popping it into her mouth. He sighed.

“Meh, that's starting to get old,” She shrugged. “How about sexual favors?” She asked casually, looking up.

He laughed. “That trumps my idea.” He gave up on the remains of his sushi, putting it on the nightstand. He rolled over onto his stomach, facing her. “So you gonna answer the question, or are you going to owe me blow jobs?”

She rolled her eyes, sighing in mock frustration. “You're asking me to pick one song out of the hundreds of thousands in history, Billie, it's hard choice to make off the top of my head.”

“The clock is ticking.” He motioned to his imaginary watch.

“Since when am I being time?” She threw her hands up.

“All along! If this 'game' needs prizes, then it needs rules too. I've got to keep you in line somehow.”

“Alright, fine. Since you insist on rushing me, I guess I'm going to say Satisfaction, The Stones.” She shrugged, then stopped to think and nodded, satisfied with her choice, looking back into her rice.

He laughed outright. “Satisfaction? That's your song?”

“Shut up, fucker. You didn't ask me for my theme song, you asked me for my favorite song. My theme song would be different.”

“Okay, why is Satisfaction your favorite song?”

“Because,” She sighed like she was tired of explaining a concept too foreign for a child to understand. “It's true. Everyone in the world just wants more and more, and whenever they get what they want, there's something else.” Billie was learning that quickly. The more time he spent with Ava, the more he wanted.

“But you can't always get what you want.” He smirked. He should have realized then that the statement applied to him, too.

“But if you try sometimes, you know, you'll get what you need.” She smiled at him, scooting closer and abandoning the remaining rice. He reached out to put his hand on hers, rubbing his thumb over it in circles. She watched his hand touch hers.

“I know,” He said, looking at her. He sounded like he was about to add something, so she turned her attention toward him. “I got you, didn't I?” He knew the line was corny, but he couldn't resist. He'd always be a sap at heart, despite any punk rock god status.

She smirked, flipping her hand over so that she could touch him too.

“That was fucking cheesy, Bill.” She tried to sound serious, but he could see the blush on her cheeks and sparkle in her eye.

“Yeah, but you still liked it.” She blushed a deeper shade of red, branching from her cheeks to the roots of her hair. He'd called her out.

“What's your point?” She leaned in, eyes roving over his features.

“I thought I had one, but I think you're about to make me forget.” His voice was getting softer, more intimate.

“Why, do I blow your mind often?” Her volume mimicked his as her eyes were fluttering closed. He could feel her lips just grazing his.

“On occasion,” He answered, and she could feel his lips move distinctly with the two spoken words. She opened her mouth just the slightest bit, anticipating the kiss. “But, I'm not about to let you win this game with all of your feminine charm.” He pulled his face back right when she was about to kiss him.

“Hey!” She opened her eyes, pouting when she saw he'd moved a foot away.

He laughed at her protruding lip. “What are you, five?”

“That was mean.” His remark didn't have any impact on her expression.

“What, I get you all riled up?” He taunted, proud of himself for that one.

“You wish.” She was back, crushing his ego in seconds. “ And it's my turn to ask a question.”

“Fine, come at me.” He sighed and rolled over onto his back, propping his head up with his hands, waiting impatiently. “Well?”

She ignored his tone. “Okay, hm...what's your biggest regret?”

“Please. I don't have any.” He answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“None?” She pushed, sounding incredulous.

“Nada.” He answered, shaking his head.

“What the hell are you, the perfect being? A god personified. Jesus?” She arched an eyebrow, her voice picking up pace as her questions progressed.

“Jesus? Really? No. I've made mistakes, fuck, I've made a shit load of mistakes. But I've learned from them all and came out alive. So, no I don't have any regrets.” He stared at the ceiling and shrugged. Then he looked at her, curiously. “Do you?”

“Yeah, of course. How could I not?” She was giving him a look that said 'I hope you know you're a total idiot and I can't believe you've made it this far through life without a spec of common knowledge, you inbisle.'

He wasn't surprised by her demeaning stare. “Like what?” He sat up, propping himself up with his elbows to really look at her.

“I dunno. Relationships mostly.” She shrugged now, looking a little uncomfortable. “I'm shit in all of them.”

“You? Shitty in relationships? No. Couldn't be due to the constant sarcasm and that inflated ego of yours. They're such charming qualities.” She scowled at his sarcasm.

“I think that being an asshole is also against the rules.” She warned him.

“I'm sorry. I couldn't resist.” He smiled, a mischievous grin on his boyish face. She had to forgive him. “How so?”

She looked a little uneasy. “I used to be a total slut, singing in dirty clubs dressed like a combination of Madonna and Sid Vicious. I had a bunch of wigs, too. I was a total freak show.”

He laughed outright. “Are you fucking with me?” It was a reasonable assumption. It was still hard for him to tell when she was joking half the time.

“I wish I was. It was very sad. My parents never even thought I was a whore, they just thought I'd fucking lost it. ” Her tone was joking, but he could tell the recall actually had her a little shaken.

“And what, your boyfriends couldn't take it? I'd imagine that would put a strain on relationships.”

“No, that wasn't really the issue. I met a lot of guys there who weren't the greatest. They were needy and insecure and pushy. I just couldn't take it. I'm ballsy and bossy and independent and guys who hang out in clubs like that and date girls like me don't know how to deal with it. I guess they thought I'd be one of those girls who's so damn insecure she'd fuck anything that was remotely attracted to her, like even a lamppost on a bad night.”

“I like all of that independence and gutstyness about you. It's sexy.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” She scoffed. “It draws guys in who want sex or some slice on the side, and it scares the shit out of the kind of guys who buy flowers and greeting cards.”

“No ones ever bought you flowers?”

“Nope.” She didn't sound hurt, just factual. She'd always thought that she was above all of that emotion bullshit. “I've just, I dunno, never met anyone that I can be with like this.” She gestured between the two of them. “I mean, we talk, like actually talk, not just shooting the shit to keep us occupied between fucks. Somehow, you of all people, get me. I've never had anything like this before.” It all seemed like a compliment, but there was something about her eyes...

“Then why are you upset?”

She looked into his eyes and the gravity of her thoughts hit him like a ton of bricks. “Because I'm happy right now. And I sort of just realized today when you looked at me and smiled in the middle of your set just because you felt like it how damn happy I am, and how fucking good everything is. And whenever you realize how good something is, the universe has a way of taking it back. I don't want to lose this.”

“Aves,” He sighed. He couldn't promise her anything, all of his commitments and vows were tied up in another relationship, and he was breaking those like a fiend.“You're not-, I mean. Fuck it, Ava. I like you the way you are, hot mess and all. I'm happy.” That was as close to the truth as he could give her.

“Freak show included in the package?” She smiled warily.

“Absolutely. Wigs and all. In fact, I think I'd like to see some of those...”

She shot him a reproachful look, and the old Ava was back. “That's why I've declared you clinically insane. You need to be institutionalized.”

“Enough questioning my sanity. It's my turn to ask a question.”

“No way, bitch. I just poured out my heart and soul there for you on a follow up question, and you gave me the whole 'I have no regrets, I'm a perfectly enlightened human being' speech. That's got to be against the rules.”

“We don't even have any rules.” He looked bewildered.

“Well, now we do.” When she saw him starting to protest, she shook her finger at him. “Uh uh uh, I believe it's my turn.”

Billie had gotten used to Ava's way of picking fights and he knew when to let her win, and when to fight her only to have her beat him. Now was one of the times to just go out with dignity. “Okay, I'll let you have this one.”

She nodded in appreciation, then she was quiet, contemplative. “If you could do anything at all, what would it be?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Anything at all?”

“Did I stutter?”

He smirked, amused by the look on her face.

“This.” He answered, kissing her suddenly, taking her by surprise. She gasped against his lips, urgent and insistent. He pushed her back onto the bed, climbing on top of her. One hand rested on her hip, massaging it, the other went up to tangle in her hair. She moaned into the kiss, flicking her tongue against the side of his mouth, tasting him. She opened her mouth, inviting him in. His tongue slipped past her lips as she let out a tiny whimper into the kiss. Her hands twined around his neck, kissing him back with a new found urgency and desire. Ava's heart beat erratically, drawing in shallow breaths with gasps against his lips.

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Garments discarded and replaced by a thin layer of sweat, the pair moved beneath the duvet. Ava kissed Billie with as much fire as she could, seeing as she felt like she was dying. He broke the kiss and pulled her against his bare chest, and she snuggled against him automatically. She closed her eyes against his skin, breathing in his scent: cigarettes and soap and Billie sweat, an olfactory revelation.

He pushed the hair that screamed I-just-had-fantastic-sex out of her face and watched her. Her eyes were just starting to close.

“I think, that this means I win.” He said softly, watching her drifting off to sleep.

“Fine, Armstrong. You can have this one.” She spoke against the smooth skin of his chest, letting out hot breathe onto his skin.

“Good night, Ava.” He chuckled.

“'Night, Billie.”