That Blue Gibson

CH 58

A/N: This chapter is super long, sorry. Thanks for the votes! Please comment and let me know what you think!

The remaining weeks dragged by with both Liz and Dave immersed in their commitments. When Dave wasn't at rehearsals, he was in the studio with Josh listening to the Vulture's B-sides, jamming and woodshedding towards workable material. Liz had finished her dance lessons and was busy with the script details, reading and reworking her lines, building and researching her character and racing back and forth to costume fittings that had been moved to Portland for her convenience. They somehow fell into a steady routine of texts and brief phone calls, just enough contact to feel connected, but not nearly enough to dull the ache of missing each other.

Liz made a point to wear whatever Foo Fighters merch she had whenever she knew she would be photographed, purposefully overkilling it with a FF tour shirt and hoodie when she was invited to a Hollywood Vampires show. She had taken her father as her date and he had worn his well loved Nirvana shirt, purchased in January 1994 when he had taken Liz to see the biggest music phenomenon since The Beatles. The look on Johnny's face when he saw Liz and her father backstage almost made her feel bad, he had invited her after all, but she wanted to be very clear about where her affections lay.

Dave had saved every paparazzi picture of her to his phone, looking back on them when he felt the urge to book a ticket to see her. She wore the same slight smile in every photo, one that rebuffed every question that was flung at her. Yes, he was still in her life even though they were thousands of miles apart. The questions flung at him, however, were a bit more intrusive and it took an exhausting amount of energy to keep himself from shoving an insanely expensive camera up these ill-mannered cameramen's asses. How low does someone have to be to ask a man what his girlfriend is like in bed in front of his children? He remained poised and dignified, but was in the process of hiring more security to quell the onslaught.

*

Dave squinted down at his phone, trying to read the headline notification in the dimly lit parking lot. Liz had already left for England that afternoon, calling him from the airport to let him know that the studio had swung for a private jet and that she and Johnny would be stuck in a 'fucking beer can together for twelve hours, so don't be surprised if you hear he's been murdered' as she so eloquently put it. They ended the call with her making him laugh, a 'miss you' and 'see you soon', though Dave knew he wouldn't be able to set foot on British ground until May and April was just beginning. His phone read that Liz had been spotted at LAX, but that couldn't be right. She said she was going to Heathrow straight from Portland. There must have been an editing error...

"Hey!" Josh jogged across the parking lot from the line of bikes where a crowd had formed, "You have to come see this bike, man."

Dave ashed his cigarette and followed him over, weaving his way through the leather vests and helmets to where Josh's tall frame stood above the rest of the crowd. He looked over the bike in front of them while Josh practically giggled with excitement. "It's a 1921 stock HD," he explained and looked around, "never been touched and the chick that rode it in is a fucking stone fox."

Dave admired the bike's fairly pristine condition and wondered if it was a barn find when he heard her laugh through the crowd. She had that loud, melodic, unrestrained and genuine laugh that was almost a rarer find in LA than the bike in front of him. He turned towards the sound and spotted her a few feet away with her back to him, surrounded by several people in matching leather vests as they gradually made their way towards the back door of the bar.

Josh followed his stare and nodded to her. "Yeah, that's her. She rode up on this. She's a babe as is, but with this bike? God damn."