Title: Shadow's Secrets
Author: Simone Black
Table #/Prompt #: Table #2, Prompt #13
Fandom/pairing: het/ Shadow (fem. fan), Peter Criss
Summary: Shadow and Peter go out and meet up with Metallica (early days)
Warnings: drug use, foul language
Disclaimers: This is a fictional work only. The band gives no permission/ is not involved with said story.
“Not yet, sweetie. We’re supposed to go out, remember?” he reminded me. I got up from the bed, feeling strange about being rejected.
“Fine. Fine, fine, fine,” I muttered to myself.
“Here, wear this,” he held up one of my satin and lace nighties. I burst into laughter. “What’s the problem?” he looked offended.
“Pete, that’s a nightie. I can’t wear that.”
“Why not? It’s long enough. Just wear some stilettos with it and your rockin’!” he smiled.
“Alright. What the fuck?” I slipped it on and put on some heels. I was reaching for my purse and heading to the door when he stopped me. “What?”
“I have something for your comedown,” he opened his jacket pocket and handed me a pill.
“What’s this?” I studied it.
“Some new designer drug. People say it’s good to take with someone you really love,” Pete winked. “And that’s us, right?”
“Well,” I blushed, “I guess so,” I winked back and popped the thing.
We walked down the block until Peter hailed a cab and instructed the driver to go to The Blue Note. On the way to the club, he whispered in my ear, “Don’t over-do it on the drinking. I heard it’s bad with these things.” We got dropped off in front of the club and walked right in without paying. “I’m a big customer here,” he bragged. We sat down at one of the tables up front and watched Johnny Winter play. I felt the drug start to kick in and went over to sit on Peter’s lap, putting my hand down his pants, kissing him on the nose and down his neck. I ordered myself a beer and danced in front of Pete, as Johnny played “Johnny B. Goode”.
Mr. Winter seemed to like it and waved me to the stage. “Go!” Peter was enthused, “He might let you up onstage.” I stepped in front of him and leaned down so he could see my cleavage. He smiled and motioned for security to let me up onstage. They put a microphone in front of me as I danced just to his left. I was quite nervous, even after the beer, so I continued dancing. The song stopped and I was about to go offstage, when Johnny grabbed my hand.
“What’ll it take for an old man like me to keep a pretty thing such as yourself to stay on for one song?” I thought to myself, and whispered a song in his ear. “Will you sing? I can tell you have a great voice; I can just tell!” I looked out at Pete who was waving his fists in the air. I nodded. “OK, the lady has a request. Boys, she wants us to play Tossin’ and Turnin’. I’m sure we can make this lady’s wish come true. Oh, and by the way, this goes out to Peter. So Pete, where ever you are, I’d hope you appreciate this.”
The band kicked off and I started singing. It was so strange with the drugs and the beer, but people were cheering. I pointed to Pete and motioned for security to let him onstage, and he came up. “This is Peter Criss!” I shouted and the crowd cheered loudly. We started singing together and he put his arm around me and gave me a kiss. Before we knew it, the song was over and the somewhat subdued crowd was now on their feet. “Thank you Johnny!” I shouted.
“And thank you Blue Note!” Peter smiled and kissed me again. Johnny’s set was over, and I was heading for the door, “You want to go already? I hear Jeff Beck is up next.”
“I just have to get some air,” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “No big deal.” I wandered around the corner and saw a bar kiddy-corner from The Blue Note had Metallica playing. I ran over there and talked to the bouncer outside, “I have Peter Criss with me across the street. Will you let us in for free?”
He laughed, “Yeah, right. You have THE Peter Criss with you?”
“Not only that but I’ll get him to sign your tattoo, if you get us in free, and get us up front,” I promised.
“Alright, if and only if I see the real Peter Criss with you, I will get you up front.” I ran back to The Blue Note and grabbed Peter.
“What’s going on?” he asked, as I began to drag him down the block.
“Well, you know when I told you I followed some bands around? Well, there’s a really great metal band playing there,” I pointed to the bar. “We can get in for free and up front, if you sign the bouncer’s tattoo.”
“Whoa, hold on there,” he pulled me back.
“C’mon, honey! I haven’t seen them in a while,” I tugged at his jacket. “Pweeeeeease!”
“Ok, ok. Fair enough. You’ve seen one band I really like, so I suppose I’ll go with you to see your friends perform,” he managed to say before we ran across the street.
“Ok, we’re here. Pete, could you sign his tattoo so we can get up front?” He signed the bouncer’s arm and we were escorted in front of the fence with security. Someone whispered something into James’ ear and he motioned for the music to stop.
“Someone tells me we got a friend in the house. Is that true? Is there a girl named Shadow in the house?” he laughed, as I jumped and waved my arms in front of him. “Someone wanna help her up here? Yeah! Get that bitch up here!” I went around hugging the band. “Alright, she’s gonna help us sing now! How about one Last Caress, baby?” I got up close to his microphone and started belting out the notes to one of my favorite songs by The Misfits. Once the song ended, the crowd was cheering. I was quite proud of myself, and I felt the drug pushing me on stronger.
“Can I make a request?” I winked at him.
“Shadow, I can’t just stop the show to go in the bathroom with you and fuck!” he laughed to himself. I jabbed him in the ribs.
“No, dumb ass, I wanted you guys to play a song and maybe your security will let my date come up and sing.”
He thought for a second, or at least appeared to take some time to think. “So, who’s your date, then?” I pointed down. “Holy shit. It’s fucking Peter Criss! Well, let’s get his ass up here!”
Peter got up on stage and threw his fist in the air as did the audience who shouted a loud, “Yeah!”
“So you guys’ know ‘Nothin’ to Lose’?” I looked around.
James ran his hand through his hair, looking at the others who shrugged and nodded, “I think it’s do-able. Get a fucking mic out here for these crazy motherfuckers!” A roadie promptly responded and brought out a microphone for us. I started singing Gene’s part with James and waited for Peter’s part to come up. And once it did, the entire audience was singing along with him. The song ended and we were taken offstage, where Metallica bought us beers.
“I’ll be right back. I gotta go take a piss,” I excused myself. Just before leaving the bathroom I checked my makeup and slipped on the tile floor, feeling my skull crack against the seat. “Shit,” I couldn’t get up and I felt myself slip into unconsciousness. It must’ve been some time because I woke up in the hospital with Peter on a cot next to me, and Metallica’s members snoring passed out in chairs.