The Brink of Destruction

"Where do you think he is?" I asked Wynn, who was setting out bowls of chips and M&M's. Mike was standing on a chair, hanging plastic spiders on a mass of white webbing over the stage, and Tre had finished carving the huge jack-o'-lantern and was setting it in the middle of the table.

"Maybe he's having trouble with the keg. Mike, do you think there's room for it in his car?"

"In that trunk? We could put MY car in his trunk! Yeah, it'll fit."

Just as we were about to call him to see if he needed any help, the front door slammed open with a bang, and a sweaty, red-faced Billie backed through it, pulling the keg on a hand truck.

"Fuck! This goddamn thing must weigh two hundred pounds! Somebody give me a hand getting it over the step!"

Tre ran to help him, and I put down the plastic tarp in the spot we'd decided the keg should go.

"It took three guys to get that fucker in the trunk!" he panted.

"Wow, that's a really lot of beer!" Tre observed. He had a talent for stating the obvious. "Is there anything else?" he asked, a big grin on his face.

"Yes, Tre, I got your champagne. Two bottles, just for you. It's in the back seat in the two boxes, with the rest of the wine. There's cups and taps in the trunk." He flopped down in a chair. "Whew! I gotta sit down for a second. It's hot as the hinges of hell out there!"

"Is it still clouding up?" Wynn asked. "If it rains, we may end up with more people than we expected."

"At least it'll cool things off!" I said. "It's just stifling right now."

"As soon as Mike and Tre get their sorry asses back in here, we need to go ahead and do our sound check and get tuned up. Anything else you guys need me to haul?" Billie said. He looked like he could have throttled anyone who said anything except "no."

"You're all done, my swashbuckling beast of burden," I said, kissing his forehead. "Go and make beautiful music. Wynn and I are going upstairs to change into our costumes."

"Can I--"

"Don't even start."

"Awwww...."

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

Kiko's boyfriend, Martin, had the best British punk music collection ever. He was from Leeds, and had an accent that would make your knees weak. He brought his CD's over to play before the band was ready, and we hooked the stereo up to the PA system, blasting the Damned, 999, Stiff Little Fingers, Sham69, X-Ray Spex, and all kinds of stuff we Yanks had never heard before.

The moshing had already begun, and it was good.

I was standing over by the keg with Wynn, nursing a cup of Corona, when I saw them come in. Tre was a pregnant nun, complete with crisp white wimple and blushing cheeks. Mike was a Mafia Don, with the pinstripe suit and Fedora, machine gun tucked menacingly under his arm. And Billie...

He'd come as James Dean.

He eased through the door, hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, hair slicked back and a sultry sneer on his lips. Pegged jeans and black engineer boots rounded out the look. I thought I was going to faint right on the spot, he looked so good.

I could see him looking around for me, but with the veil over my face, he hadn't spotted me yet. Wynn had taken her sinister syringe of death and headed over to Mike, so I worked my way around the crowd up by the stage to sneak up behind him.

He was still scanning the faces when I reached around and put my hands over his eyes.
"Wh-hey, what's going on?" he chuckled.

"Don't peek yet," I said. Making sure his eyes were closed, I removed my hands and walked around to face him. Following Wynn's lesson from the night before, I pressed my palms together over my head and bent one knee, rotating my hips slowly.

"Okay, you can look now." He opened his eyes, and as I danced for him, his mouth sagged open and his eyes grew large. He followed every movement I made, tracing the curves of my body, and an expression I hadn't seen before clouded his face. It was pure lust, and I'm sure that under the veil, I was just as guilty.

The chains of tiny gold coins around my neck and waist tinkled softly, and his hand found its way to my hip, following every undulation. He was mesmerized by the movement, and his gaze left my face and traveled downward to my cleavage, transfixed. I saw his nostrils flare as he smelled the sandalwood oil I'd dabbed there, and his chest rose and fell more quickly.
His arms encircled my waist and pulled me against him, none too gently. His head bent to press his cheek against mine, and I could feel his warm breath as his lips brushed against my ear.

"I want you, right here and right now," he whispered. His voice was rough and husky, and my knees went weak at the sound. I had to cling to his leather-clad shoulders for support. "You are the most incredibly beautiful, erotic woman I have ever seen."

He lifted the veil from my face, his smoky eyes searching mine, and lowered his head to capture my lips. My hand pressed against the back of his neck, wanting to keep him there forever, melting together. His body was molten, liquid fire, and mine was responding to him, all conscious thought brushed aside.

"Get a fucking room, willya?" said Tre. "That's just disgusting!"

"You're just jealous, you old whore," Billie laughed, but I could feel how tightly he was still gripping my waist. "Your girlfriends will never look as good as she does--and neither will you!"

"Well!" sniffed Tre. "You can talk about my dates all you want, but you don't have to get personal!" He wandered off, the champagne glass in his hand clashing with his outfit and his 'condition.'

Smoothing my hair, Billie looked deeply into my eyes. "I gotta go play now, and I just want you to know it's going to be the toughest thing I've ever done to stay up on that stage with you
down here."

I kissed his lips again, soft as butterfly wings. "I'll be waiting right here for you when you're done. Go show them how amazing you are."

And he did. There was an animal quality to his performance, a growl in his voice that gave him a vicious edge, and the audience went wild for him. Every time I watched him play, he got better.

And every time I kissed him, I fell for him a little more.

Their standard finale song was "My Generation," and each of them took a brief solo during the bridge. The last notes of Billie's were dying away, and someone from the audience reached up to pass him a beer. As Mike loped along on the bass, Billie took the bottle and upended it in a long swallow. His face twisted up in disgust, and he turned the bottle to read the label.

"Heineken? Fuck that shit!" he snarled, and sailed the bottle over the heads of the dancers, foamy droplets flying everywhere, until it smashed to pieces in the hall. The crowd roared in approval--he could do no wrong tonight.

When the band had finished, Martin was ready with a stack of classics--Clash, Buzzcocks, Black Flag--to keep the party going strong. But the applause didn't die down for several minutes after they'd taken their final bow, and the three of them looked at each other proudly, savoring their success.

Billie jumped down off the stage, and I was waiting with his beloved Corona. "You were incredible," I said, "just incredible." He kissed me, smiling against my mouth, and then took the cup. Tilting his head back, he let the icy liquid pour down his dry throat, a few golden drops escaping to slide down his jawline and his neck.

Swept away by the music, and the moment, and most of all by Billie, I moved closer to him, and pressed my lips against his cheek. Slowly, I kissed my way down the path of the errant drops, until every trace was gone, and then I pulled the neck of his white t-shirt aside and kissed his collarbone.

"God, Gen, you have no idea what you're doing to me," he rasped into my ear. He slid his hand around to the middle of my back and pulled me sharply against him. As our bodies moved together in perfect time to the music, our eyes were locked together, the electricity between us almost tangible.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered as the song ended, and I barely had time to wave goodbye to Wynn as he took my hand and pulled me toward the door.

The rain that had threatened all afternoon had finally begun, and with it came the thunder and lightning. Even so, the quad was alive with the sounds of other parties, other people, but we barely noticed them as we hurried down the path between the pine trees.

Billie slid in behind the wheel of the Ford, but before he turned the key, his arms wrapped around me again, holding me so tight I almost couldn't breathe. This time, his kiss was like the ocean crashing, taking my breath away, overwhelming me with its power.

"Billie--" I moaned softly.

"Ssssshhhhhh...it's okay," he whispered, running his calloused fingers gently through my hair. Every inch of my skin craved his touch, ached for his caress. He took my face in his hands, and seemed to be memorizing every detail as his eyes drank me in hungrily. It made me a little self-conscious, and I lowered my eyes as I felt the color rising in my cheeks.

"Gen." His finger lifted my chin until I was looking into his eyes. "You don't have to be shy, it's just me. I just can't stop thinking how beautiful you are."

Why was I so nervous? I trusted him completely, that wasn't it. But something was different tonight, something was changing,and I couldn't tell what it was.

He took us to his apartment, and we ran through the rain to the door in back. As he unlocked the door and we ducked inside, I heard him take a deep breath, and turned to see him staring at me, his fingers raking nervously through his hair.

"My God," he breathed.

"What is it?" I asked, and before he could answer, I looked down. The rain had soaked my costume, and the scarves were little more than watercolors on my skin now. "Oh, wow, um...." I crossed my arms, feeling that shyness again, but he gently took my hands and lowered them to my sides.

"You...are...magnificent," he murmured. "Don't ever be ashamed of how beautiful you are. You look like a goddess to me."

I wrapped my arms around him, loving the warmth between our bodies, and a smile crept across my face. "Billie, there's something I want to tell you," I said. "Something important."

"Anything," he said, sweeping me into his arms. He carried me down the hall and into his room, laying me softly on the bed and closing the door behind him. I waited as he lit the candles on the windowsill, and tossed his jacket on the back of the chair. Then he kicked off his boots and socks, and stretched out beside me. The flickering candlelight was golden, turning his eyes to emeralds with hearts of fire.

"Billie," I said, smiling, "I'm going to be your genie tonight, and I want to give you three wishes. If you could have anything, what would it be?"

He grinned from ear to ear. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Real wishes, things you'd really like to have."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, one of them's already come true, because you're here with me."

"Doesn't count--that was my wish!" I said.

"Hmm... Okay, I guess first I'd wish I didn't have to worry about being away from you for three months."

"Granted," I said.

He laughed softly. "That would be great, wouldn't it?"

"I mean it," I said earnestly. "Wynn and I paid a visit to Jordan, and I...reasoned with him. He's dropped the charges. I called the DA's office this morning and they confirmed it. You're a free man."

For a long moment, he was speechless. Then his brow wrinkled as his expression grew serious. "That was taking a big chance, Gen. You shouldn't have been anywhere near that freak! He could have--" This time it was my turn to stop him, and I pressed a kiss against his lips to silence him.

"I'm fine. Nothing happened. I just pointed out a few things he hadn't considered, and he came around to my way of thinking. Maybe he's not quite as stupid as he looks."

He slowly shook his head. "I can't believe it. Nobody's ever stood up for me like this. I don't know what to say, Gen."

"You don't have to say anything at all. Just tell me your second wish." I crossed my fingers and hoped it wasn't a new paint job for his car.

"Okay, then. Let's see, I wish I knew who had posted my bail so I could pay them back. How about that?"

"Granted."

"Ha HAAA!" he cackled. "I knew I'd get it out of you one way or another!"

"Don't be a smartass or I won't tell you," I warned him.

"You have to, or I get to put you back in your bottle!" he teased.

"Boy, you're just full of yourself tonight, aren't you? Okay, if you must know, the person who loaned us the money was Bat. And--"

"Oh, man, not him!" he interrupted. "After all he's done for me, I hate the idea of owing him more than I already do. I have to figure out some way to pay him back quick." He looked genuinely worried, and I could tell his love for the old man ran deep.

"Billie, there's a second part to this one. I also persuaded Jordan that the right thing for him to do was to take care of your bail money, since he hadn't had to pay any of his own. I've got the $500 cash up in my room right now, so you can pay Bat back as soon as you see him. So see, everything's going to be alright."

Now it was pure disbelief that painted his face. He tried to speak, but no words would come. He rolled onto his back, his arm across his forehead, and stared at the ceiling. When he turned back to me, his eyes were glistening.

"Why would you take such a risk for me? Why would you go to all that trouble to try to help me?" he said, his voice shaky.

"Because I care about you. Don't you know that by now?"

He took a deep breath, and reached for my hand to pull it to his lips. "I want to tell you something I've never said to a woman before, not this way. Because until now, I only thought I knew what it meant."

I held my breath, as if time had stood still.

"Genny, I'm in love with you, hopelessly and completely," he said, stroking my cheek. "And if you don't feel the same way, I understand, but I couldn't go another day without telling you."

That feeling I'd had all day, that somehow after tonight nothing would be the same--I understood it now.

I was in love with him, too.

It was so easy to say it now. "Billie, you already know I feel the same way. You see right into my soul, and you know me better than I know myself. I love you, and I always will."

His beautiful face crinkled with happy laughter, and I couldn't help but join him. He wrapped his arms around me and rolled me over onto him, his mouth never leaving mine. His tongue was so soft and gentle, stroking my lips tenderly, and he moaned quietly as I slid my kisses down his neck and shoulder.

"Billie," I whispered, my breath hot against his chest. "You still have one wish left."