hang out in your heart

hear our conversations when you breathe

"I know, I know!"

Stevie stands framed in the doorway, mumbling around her toothbrush, waving Lindsey into her room impatiently. She rushes back to the bathroom, anticipating his comment. "I'm almost ready, I swear."

"Don't worry," Lindsey responds with a sly grin. "I told you fifteen minutes earlier than we actually have to leave for Chris's house. Do I know you or do I know you?"

Stevie sticks her head out the door. "I am insulted."

"No, you're not, get back in there." Lindsey grins at her pretend-mad face.

He sits on the edge of the bed a bit awkwardly, trying not to let the memories of the not-so-distant past, when they would have woken up together to get ready, flood through his brain. As he waits for Stevie to finish up in the bathroom, the music playing catches his attention. He smirks.

"Joni again? Really?"

Stevie walks out of the bathroom, drying her hands with a towel. "Shut up. Yes. Joni always. You know I love her."

"I know, it's just been pretty much constant recently," Lindsey can't help pointing out.

She shoots him a look that makes it clear that his commentary isn't welcome. "Well I guess after last week I'm remembering my love for her. Don't start."

After their night out with the crew in Dublin, Stevie has been more and more willing to spend time with him outside of shows. Last week, she had dragged him to the movies, to this new rom-com she was dying to see, some British movie that, although it was a bit cheesy to him, did indeed seem right up Stevie's alley. And with Christmas coming, it was a perfect fit. Until the scene.

It was a scene where a middle-aged wife finds out that her long-time husband may be sleeping with a much younger woman. As he had watched Emma Thompson on the screen, crying her eyes out in her bedroom alone to the sounds of Both Sides Now, Lindsey had heard a sniff to his left. He had looked over at Stevie out of the corner of his eye and had seen tears streaming down her face before she had rushed out of her seat and up the aisle. Lindsey had sat, thunderstruck, wondering if he should follow her and trying to figure out what a 'friend' would do in this instance. By the time he'd come to any sort of conclusion, she'd slipped back into her seat, looking like nothing had happened. When he'd opened his mouth to say something to her, she'd given him a warning glare and he'd closed his mouth. Since then, she's been listening to Joni nonstop. He doesn't hate it; it actually reminds him of their first days living together in LA when her records had been the soundtrack to their lives. But he also hasn't let himself think too hard about the significance of her resurgence of appreciation for the singer after watching a scene that had hit a little too close to home.

In the present, Stevie turns up the music, looking at Lindsey pointedly, then heads over to her makeup table. Lindsey tries to get back on her good side.

"You look beautiful, you don't need more makeup."

She rolls her eyes as if she knows exactly what he's doing, then picks up a brush. "I'm just touching up, I sweated off half the makeup I already put on this morning. Fucking hot flashes."

"Well, you still don't need that shit on your face." There's absolutely nothing more beautiful to him than Stevie's face right when she wakes up, completely free of makeup. He misses it dreadfully.

"I'm an old lady now, Lindsey. I need to smooth out all the wrinkles."

Lindsey rolls his eyes. "Please, you're not an old lady."

"Oh yes, young women get hip injuries for no reason all the time, not to mention all the night sweats they get." Her voice is even, but he can see that she hates talking about this. He doesn't see why she's harping on this, hadn't she gotten that taken care of anyway?