A/N -- 🤷‍♀️ 🤷‍♀️ 🤷‍♀️

Layla
August, 1985

Archie's office in the heart of Cambridge was an... interesting blend of scholarly charm and locomotive enthusiasm. The man himself was stretched out in the worn leather armchair by the bay window, perusing a stack of papers rather diligently.

"I did knock..." I greeted him carefully.

Clearly he had been in a deep state of concentration, because my voice seemed to terrify him. Papers went flying, as did what Archie classified as curses.

"Bloody hell--" Archie exclaimed as he scrambled about on the floor, "I'm sorry, Layla."

"No, I'm sorry." I chuckled and closed the space between us in a few quick strides, "I shouldn't be disturbing you during office hours."

"No, no, I lost track of time." Archie smiled gratefully once I handed him a few stray papers, "I appreciate you driving up all this way."

"Well, you've come to London the past few times, it's only fair." I murmured and raked my gaze across the bookshelves which seemed to line every inch of the walls. The shelves were overflowing with a rather diverse range of historical epochs, and I noticed that a vintage model train wove in between the academic tomes on one of the higher shelves.

Archie seemed as though he may lean in to peck my cheek, but decided against it and simply gave my shoulder a featherlight squeeze. We had been out several times since our first date, and he still seemed half afraid to touch me. "Did you have much time to look around?"

"No," I winked, "I was waiting for my tour guide."

Red bloomed along Archie's high cheekbones, "Yes, quite." He fumbled about with his papers as he laid them back upon his desk, "Well, we best be off, I don't want you driving home in the dark."

It seemed like the prospect of me spending the night was completely out of the question. I wasn't really used to a man taking the slow approach, and it left me wondering whether he really was just a gentleman or he just didn't fancy me in the slightest. He was quite a difficult man to read, despite all of his blushing.

It was raining outside but luckily not heavily enough to warrant an umbrella or a postponement of my tour of the campus and Cambridge itself. Archie did his best to usher me beneath shelters and alcoves when he could, and when we were out in the open he hoisted his brief case above my head. I could certainly get used to all of this chivalry, especially against the beautiful backdrop of the Corpus Christi campus.

Considering Cambridge consisted of about 30 colleges, Archie and I agreed to only glance about King's College, and Caius once we finished up in his own arena.

Archie seemed nervous as he led me about and stammered through a whole host of historical anecdotes and architectural tidbits. Every time he thought my attention was elsewhere he chanced a quick sideways glance in my direction to gauge my reactions. It seemed like he was afraid that I found him boring, when that truly wasn't the case. No matter what my friends said about him.

I never thought that Archie would resort to gossiping to try and impress me, but here we were. I always knew he was intelligent but he was also deceptively funny. I was still laughing over his tales of outfoxing some of his more problematic former students when we arrived in the historic pub, The Eagle, as the evening drew in.

"You'd think they would close the window." I laughed, somehow shivering in the crowded and cozy space.

"Oh no," Archie plucked up his menu, "A window must be propped open at all times in this place. All to do with ghosts and superstitions."

"Thought all you scholarly types wouldn't believe in such things."

Archie shrugged, "I'm open to everything."

With those words, I saw an opportunity to ask him something that I had been chickening myself out of for the past few days.

"Even a double date with people you don't know?" I asked as if it weren't completely out of the blue.

"Double date?"

"Hm," I nodded, "With my friend, Roger."

"Roger?" He raised a brow, because I definitely hadn't mentioned that name to before.

"Taylor."

"And who exactly is Roger Taylor?" Archie lifted his eyes away from the menu he was currently perusing. His blue eyes looked rather owlish behind his spectacles and I couldn't help but find the sight a little sweet.

"Have you heard of Queen?" I tapped my fingertips along the side of my glass.

"I can't say that I have."

I couldn't help but smirk at that, "Well, Roger is a drummer."

"As in..." Archie interlocked his fingers, "That's his profession?"

I knew Archie was going to drive Roger mad, and I really couldn't be any happier about it. "Yup."

"He must be rather good then."

I shrugged, "Jury's out on that one."

Archie eyes crinkled with amusement, "How is it you two met?"

In a fit of fury I tried to scratch my father's car with the heel of my shoe, turned out it was actually Roger Taylor's car. We got drunk, we stole, and we snogged for a second. Tale as old as time really.

"We met outside a pub, ran into each other a few times since then." I shrugged, not knowing why I felt the need to downplay the whole thing, "Haven't been able to shake him since."

"Well," Archie leant further back in his seat, "I would be happy to accompany you, if that's what you would like."

"Well," I sighed, "If I'm being honest, we had a silly little row the last time I saw him so I wouldn't mind a buffer." I shrugged a languid shoulder, "And you've already met my brother and the Dalton's, Roger doesn't give a toss who I'm... with? So it'll be a walk in the park for you."

Archie looked thoughtful for a moment as he mulled over my words. I hoped that he didn't catch my stutter when trying to sum up our situation but it would have been extremely hard to miss.

"You know," Archie averted his gaze, "If you wanted to stay-- for the night that is-- we could share a bottle of wine."

I slept in the spare room, but it was a start.

***

I knew that Roger was rich and famous...in theory. But seeing the massive fucking mansion where he lived for the first time made his status a reality.

No wonder he was a cocky little shit at the best of times, he was swimming in success. I came from a family where business and property were simply handed down to the next heir, so I couldn't help but feel a little amazed by what Roger had achieved for himself (alongside his band mates of course).

The front door of the relatively modern build, swung open to reveal the very effortlessly pretty Dominque. She was dressed casually in a pair of wrangler jeans and a white camisole top littered with polka dots. Her dark brows raised beneath the edge of her fringe as her large eyes carefully took me in.

"How did you get this address?" She asked me impatiently by way of greeting. Her French accent made her words drip with even more disdain than I think she was even trying to convey.

"I er--" I stammered, confused by her manner and the question. Surely Roger bloody told her I was coming, but then again he lied about me before.

"No, Roger isn't here. No he won't sign an autograph, and no, he isn't the father of your child. Have I covered everything?"

I blinked, "I really have no idea--"

"--you're trespassing."

Did she think I was a... fan? Did this sort of thing happen regularly? I couldn't imagine Roger being so famous that random girls would show up at his house, it was Roger for gods sake. Heather's face briefly flickered through my mind, and I found myself even more offended that Dominique could possibly think that I was a member of that particular club.

"Layla," Archie's deep voice cut between us, "You forgot your jacket in the car..." he trailed off once he noticed the open door when he appeared behind me, "Oh! Sorry. Hello..."

Dominique's eyes popped open before immediately narrowing to assess me completely, "Layla?"

I nodded apprehensively. "And this is Archie."

"Archie--" Dominique repeated, "My god, I'm so sorry you two-- I thought-- Layla! Hello, I'm sorry!"

Archie draped the leather jacket over my shoulders as Dominique pecked me on either cheek. She apologised profusely another several times before finally turning her attention towards Archie to give him a dose of the same apologetic treatment. She proceeded to usher us both inside out of the cold night air and offer us a glass of the alcohol of our choosing.

I opted for a glass of white wine, and when Archie turned down his drink because he had a lecture early in the morning and was driving us home, I grabbed his glass for myself as well.

"Your home is quite wonderful." Archie murmured politely, "It's so lovely to see one of Falkner's builds in the flesh."

"You've done your research, Archie."

"Oh no, it was a lucky guess." He chuckled nervously, "We're in Farnham where he was at his most prolific, and this is an Arts and Crafts styled home-- a style he is renowned for."

"Not a lucky guess then, an educated one." Dominque smiled, "Now, if you two would like to follow me, I'll just go get Roger--"

A shrill ring sounded out from a room nearby (which I assumed was the kitchen), probably a timer of some sort, cutting Dominique's sentence in half. She blanched and reached out to briefly touch my elbow.

"Roger's downstairs-- hurry him up please. I need to deal with something in the kitchen."

Downstairs? How many floors did this bloody place have? "I uh, sure, but perhaps I could help you--"

"I'll help, don't worry." Archie offered when I made a move to follow after Dominique, who was already speed walking in the opposite direction. "You mentioned that you hadn't seen Roger in a while because of a row, take a minute before we're all tossed in together."

That's exactly what I wanted to avoid this evening: one-on-one time with Roger. But Archie was just being thoughtful and I couldn't very well tag along with him to help Dominique and leave it so that nobody fetched Roger.

"Alright, I'll see you in a minute." I murmured and used my knowledge of sod off estates to figure out where on Earth the lower floor could be. I grew up spending Christmases in my grandfather's Manor House in Kent, but that was a Tudor house and this was a little more modern. I highly doubted Roger was hiding out in the scullery, so there must be an entirely different area beneath this house.

Of course, I ended up in the in the scullery anyway because I took the first stairs downstairs that I could find. I peeped my head in the door anyway and glanced about the boiler room. Naturally, Roger wasn't down here, so I scurried on up the main floor again. I heard frenzied beeping coming from one of the kitchens, the one Dominique and Archie were in, and immediately sped past it. I soon discovered a second entrance hall, and what looked like a massive  conservatory which I wouldn't have minded exploiting further, but I found another set of stairs which led down to another floor. There was a rather loud stream of noise being muffled by the door at the end of the stairway, but it was clear that the room was somewhat soundproofed.

I knocked out of politeness, but it was obvious that Roger wouldn't hear me (if that was him in there). I cautiously creaked the door open and was met with the half deafening sound of drums which were hooked up to an impressive array of speakers. The room was bloody massive and Roger looked like a small speck behind one of the several drum sets that neatly littered the room.

Roger didn't look as though he was expecting company, not in the slightest, he just looked caught up in his own little world. He certainly wasn't dressed for dinner, unless he was planning on wearing a rather sweaty tank top. I was sort of caught off guard by how attractive he was in that moment-- I knew it wasn't him-- but just the whole drummer thing. For a brief, horrifying, moment as I watched the muscles in Roger's arm stretch and strain, I understood Heather. It was never a state of mind I wanted to find myself in again. Ever.

"Layla!" Roger exclaimed, "What are you doing down here?" He pulled down the headphones from his ears and let them rest around his neck.

"Fetching you." I flashed him a tight smile.

"You're early!" Roger didn't stand up to greet me properly, even though it had been a few weeks since we had seen each other, "Eager to see me?"

"Not particularly." I murmured, "And it's seven; I'm not early."

"Oh fuck," He muttered and shoved his hand through his damp hair, "I thought I had another hour at least. So you met Dom?"

"Mhm, she seems nice. Archie's upstairs with her helping with some cooking emergency."

Roger's brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out, "They won't miss us for a minute or two then, will they?" He stood up and brushed off his white jeans, "Come here, how have you been?"

I reluctantly took a few steps forward but it was Roger who closed the space between us by reaching out to clasp his hand around my wrist. He tugged me close and wrapped his arm around my waist. When I made no move to return the hug, he shook me gently.

"Oh come on," He whined playfully, "I'm sorry for being a twat."

"I know, I know." I chuckled and rubbed my hand up and down his back.

Roger stiffened for a moment before he pulled himself away. Although he continued to loosely rest one hand upon my waist.

"What were you playing?" I asked.

"Should be obvious."

"You must not be as good as you think." I chirped, which caused him to roll his eyes dramatically.

"I don't know why I missed you." He muttered and tugged me towards the stool where he forced me to sit down.

"I could name about several reasons why someone would miss me," I flashed him a grin which he mirrored.

"Let's see you do better." He slipped his drumsticks into my hands.

"Oh no, don't tell me this is your version of 'come back to my tour bus, I'll teach you some chords on the guitar'."

Roger was still leant over me so his laugh stirred my hair, "No, this isn't that." He pulled back, "Has that happened to you before?"

"A couple of times."

"Have you ever fallen for it?"

"... a couple of times."

He laughed again but when I made a feeble attempt to hit one of the several drums spread out in front of me, his expression grew rather serious. "I started off on the guitar."

"You did?"

"Hm," He casually clasped his fingers over my own, guiding my hand in a different motion, "Well no, that's a lie actually. I first learnt the ukulele. Drove the girls in year 5 mad."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're awful at this." Roger reached his other arm around me so now both of his hands had enveloped my own. Something about noticing the scratch of his calloused palms against my hands made me feel extremely guilty, for no reason whatsoever. Friends can play about like this-- sod society and its rules about men and women being friends!

"You mean I'm not a prodigy?"

Roger had complete control over my hands as he began to play the song he had been playing before I interrupted him. "Well... if you came back to my tour bus for lessons, I'm sure you would be an expert in no time."

I laughed, "I still can't recognise what you're playing."

"Ticking away the moments that make up the dull day." Roger half sang, half spoke the lyrics. Of course it all clicked then. The drums were so obviously from Pink Floyd's Time and I clearly had not one ounce of musical ability in my arsenal.

"Okay, I definitely hear it now." I murmured.

"You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way."

"I got confused by the lack of chiming clocks."

"Kicking around on a piece of ground, in your hometown. Waiting for someone or something to show you the way." He rasped far too close to my ear.

"I didn't realise you could actually sing."

Roger dropped my hands and drew himself away from me, "You can't be horrible to me in my own home."

"It's a nice home at that."

"Cheers."

"A little overcompensatory."

"You see right through me, Layla." Roger backed up with a smile, "Now, I better go freshen up before Dom kills me for not being ready."

I made my way back the kitchen, and as soon as I entered my eyes began to water. There was smoke everywhere. Dom immediately pushed Archie and I back into one of their ten dining rooms. Archie removed his glasses which had steamed up a considerable amount and threw me a sheepish grin.

"I don't even know what she burnt." He whispered as we both awkwardly stood about the door, waiting for someone to instruct us where to sit down. "The starter is cold."

"Starter?" I lowered my voice, "So there's going to be... courses?"

"Yes." Archie laughed softly.

"So... it'll be a... long... evening?"

"Did things not go well with Roger?"

"Oh they went just fine." I shook my head, "I'm being dramatic, tonight will be fine."

Roger returned in a black button up shirt that may have taken him ten seconds to put on. His ten minute delay could definitely be blamed on his painstakingly tousled hair. Dominique popped up behind him, and they barely acknowledged one another. That was our first warning to get out.

Archie was the first to offer Roger his hand which seemed to irk blondie right off the bat. He didn't seem like he was in a bad mood when I saw him downstairs in his little studio, but now he appeared to be completely rubbed up the wrong way. Archie was an inch or two taller than Roger, which I only noticed because Roger straightened his posture in a clear attempt to look as tall as him. This also seemed to irk him.

"Roger, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Archie," Roger flashed him a lazy smile, "Welcome."

"He's a lord," Dominique murmured in an aside to Roger, "And a doctor. You can't just call him Archie."

"Oh no-- that's quite alright--"

"--thought he was a professor." Roger whispered as if Archie wasn't standing right there, and as if their hands weren't still bloody locked.

"Yeah," I gently tugged the end of Archie's jacket to draw him back to me, "Which means he has a doctorate."

"Yeah, I know." Roger rubbed at his shoulder, "But you wouldn't call him if I was going into cardiac arrest."

Dominique pinched the bridge of her nose, "Nobody suggested that you would."

"I actually went to medical school." Roger said casually to no one in particular.

"For a year," Dom scoffed, "To study dentistry."

"Yeah? Dentists can call themselves doctors, they study medicine."

Archie and I exchanged an awkward glance before returning our gazes to the conversation enfolding in front of us.

"And you're not a dentist, so what's the point in this whole conversation, mon couer?"

"I don't know, love, I'm just trying to bond with Archie."

"By insulting him?"

It was time to go home. What sort of emergency could I invent to get Archie and I out of this level of hell we just willingly entered?

"I hope Archie was some help to you in the kitchen!" I exclaimed before either host could continue their passive aggressive volley. "Do you want a hand with anything else, Dominique?

Dominique clapped her hands together briskly at my words, "Dinner! Yes, thank you, Layla. The starters are ready."

Archie and I ate our smoked trout pate far too quickly. It tasted lovely of course, but when we resurfaced from our plates, Roger and Dominique were still just picking at the slathered slab of crusty bread. 

"Layla mentioned you were somewhat of a percussionist in a music group." Archie said amicably before he reached out to cover my hand with his own.

Roger's jaw twitched, "I'm a drummer in a rock band, yeah."

"That must be exciting," he nodded, "Do you play pubs, clubs, that sort of thing?"

Roger proceeded to toss me a rather unamused side eye as if I was responsible for Archie's words. I had to look away to stop myself from laughing.

"Stadiums, actually."

"Stadiums! Amazing, you must be rather good."

"I hardly bought this house with pub gig money."

"I just assumed you or your wife came from money." He shrugged, because that was the sort of world we had both grown up in. It wasn't meant to be an insult, just a harmless but misguided assumption.

I didn't know which point Roger took the most issue with, being accused of having generational wealth or making him feel awkward on account of Archie calling Dom his wife.

"No, Lord Tewksbury," Roger smiled falsely, "I actually had to work to get where I am."

"So did he," Dominique huffed, "It's Doctor Tewksbury, remember Roger."

"He's not a real bloody doctor." Roger muttered.

"Roger!" Dominique smiled but it was strained, "Will you help me with the main course!?"

They proceeded to argue in hushed but audible voices in the next room. Archie and I tried to cover up their arguing by engaging in polite small talk with one another, but when my name was mentioned I shushed him.

"That's the girl you've been spending all of your time with!?"

"Yes?"

"The plain, homely girl, who looks like your aunt?"

Wow.

"... yes?"

"She's gorgeous!"

"Is she? I didn't notice."

"Oh come on! She looks like the reason you wanted to become a drummer!"

There was a loud, exaggerated, and theatrical gasp. "I became a drummer for the music!!!"

They hissed at each other some more before bursting back into the dining room. Archie and I quickly attempted to make it look as though we hadn't been eavesdropping the entire time by leaning into each other as if we were having an intimate conversation.

"I suggested steak Diane, but Dom here insisted on chicken chasseur!" Roger smiled tightly as he roughly dropped a casserole dish down in front of us.   "I also suggested we have someone else-- a professional-- cook for us, but what do I bloody know--"

"I really appreciate the effort you've gone to Dominique!" I piped up like a first class boot licker but Roger was being a first rate ass so it all balanced out.

Roger and I may have been over our little tiff, but whatever was going on between Dominque and Roger was still ongoing. It was so painfully obvious that they were in no state to host a couple of stragglers like Archie and I, so their attempts to be perceived as a solid couple were exaggerated and tinged with passive aggressive energy. Archie and I didn't know where to look half of the time so we just looked at each other in solidarity for the majority of the meal.

"There's nothing more beautiful than the blossoming stage of a relationship." Dominique sighed wistfully as she swirled the glass of red in front of her, "Don't you agree, Roger?"

Roger's brow crinkled in response.

"I was under the impression you were married, Layla, but clearly Roger got that wrong."

I laughed awkwardly, "Hm, most of what I say goes in one ear and out the other. It's a messy situation with Hugh and I, I'm sure Roger has the story as muddled as I do." Why on earth am I trying to help him now?

Dominique nodded, "Well, I'm glad to see you found a better match. You and Archie make a lovely couple."

Roger snorted softly which of course drew everyone's attention to him. I felt my eyes narrow upon him, which he clearly sensed because he refused to meet my gaze. Instead, he cleared his throat several times as if trying to play off the previous sound he made. I was prepared to let it go because things were awkward enough as it was, but Dominque seemed determined to thrash things out.

"What was that noise?"

"What noise?"

"The noise you just made."

"Nothing!" Roger scratched the back of his head, "I just think you're jumping the gun a bit."

"Jumping the gun?"

"You've seen them together for less than an hour, and they've barely spoken a word, how can you label them a lovely couple? Maybe they aren't even a bloody couple yet-- are you?"

I hadn't realised everyone's attention had now drifted to me so was rather startled when I looked up from my plate, "What?"

"You said it was early days on the phone," Roger said in a way that suggested he was out to stir the pot between Archie and I. Which made no sense because Archie hadn't done anything to him, and Roger should've been focusing his attention on getting out of my bad books.

"Yes," I gritted my teeth, "It is early days, but I'm quite happy with the direction we're going in."

I was in no way shape or form prepared to put a label on what Archie and I were just yet, and Roger Taylor of all people wasn't about to bloody force it on me now.

Archie's lips twitched clumsily into a smile, "As am I." He chuckled, "Although it may look like I'm nonchalant from an outside view, so I can understand Roger's confusion."

Nonchalant was an understatement, and I couldn't believe that he was even aware of it. "You don't need to explain yourself, Archie." Please do.

"No, no," He chuckled, "It's alright. I suppose I have felt like I'm in some sort of dream state ever since Layla agreed to meet for a second time, and every time after that."

Roger rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and kept his gaze cemented to the spot they landed on. Dominique visibly swooned at Archie's sweet words, whilst I couldn't help but regard him with suspicion. It took me a moment to realise he was being genuine and a smile eventually crept onto my lips.

"Don't be soft." I gently pushed his shoulder with a rather awkward chuckle.

Before Archie could say anything further, Roger piped up, "Well I can't go a second longer without having dessert!" His chair skidded against the tile as he stood up.

"Let me help!" Dominique exclaimed and followed him out in a flash.

This time Archie and I didn't bother to pretend as though we couldn't hear the couple arguing in the next room. I was once again the topic of discussion-- but to my surprise, Dominique didn't appear to be angry with me at all. Every ounce of anger she felt seemed to be directed towards Roger.

"Let's be adults about this, Dom! Men and women can be friends."

"Oh don't give me that, you would sleep with her in a heartbeat!"

"No I would never-- not ever--"

"I know you won't, because she's not an idiot! She wouldn't look twice at you! She isn't some air-headed twenty year old!"

"So anyone that finds me attractive is an idiot now? What does that say about you!?"

"I know I'm an idiot, why else would I still be here!"

Archie cleared his throat, and proceeded to tell me the tale of the first train to ever cross international borders. The railway line ran between Belgium and France if anyone's interested.

"The hours you've spent on the phone to her... and that's what's been on the other end!"

"Fuck me, stop objectifying the poor girl!"

I thought that Roger would deservedly be hit over the head with a blunt object at that moment, but the both of them simply appeared in the doorway with pudding at the ready.

I shovelled a large spoonful of cherry clafoutis into my mouth, and practically devoured it once I realised she had soaked the dessert in brandy. I nudged Archie gently when I saw that he was scarcely halfway through eating. We needed to bloody get out of here, which could only happen if he hurried up. He appeared to catch my drift, that is, until he accepted Dominque's offer of coffee.

"I need a cigarette, does anyone mind if me I pop outside for a minute?" I asked but was already standing up, eager to escape.

"I need one too!" Roger exclaimed, "Let me show you out the back."

"I'm sure I can manage--"

"Come on, the gardens are lovely."

"It's dark." Dominique and I said in perfect unison in a rather similar tone.

"They're lovely." Roger repeated and ushered me out the door.

When we finally made it outside via one of the several exits in the sod of mansion, I found myself wanting to throttle Roger on Dominique's behalf. I held my tongue, because I had no idea what was really going on between them, and it was none of my business either. I leant against the wall, and stared out at the vast expanse of darkness that unfurled in front of us. Obviously, it was too dark to see the gardens.

I lit my own cigarette, and didn't offer one to Roger. He didn't seem all that phased and simply fished around in his pockets for a cigarette of his own. All the while, his attention remained on me.

"What?" I huffed, unable to ignore his thoughtful study of my face for a moment longer.

"I'm just confused."

"About?"

"You and Archie." He encroached upon my personal space but I held my ground.

"What about us?"

"I just don't see it." Roger murmured with a careless shrug, "It doesn't make sense to me."

"It doesn't need to make sense to you." I mirrored his shrug.

Roger breathed out a large plume of smoke near my face as if I were the one being exasperating. "Admit it doesn't make sense to you either."

"It makes perfect sense to me." I lied through my teeth. Archie and I were polar opposites, obviously we didn't make sense. But he was sweet to me and we got along comfortably, so what if Roger of all people didn't understand it. Who bloody cares what he thought?

"Liar." Roger tsked which made me want to throttle him. "Layla, he's... ancient." He joked when it was clear he wanted to make a different point.

"Ancient?" I scoffed, "Oh come on. He's thirty-nine."

"Exactly."

"You're thirty six."

Roger ignored that, "He acts as though he's sixty."

"I would rather that than someone who acts like he's sixteen."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been acting ridiculously immature towards me for the past few weeks."

"We haven't talked in the past few weeks."

"Because of your immaturity."

Roger rubbed at the space between his brows, "I know, I'm sorry." His cigarette free hand lifted to gently brush up and down along my arm. I didn't shirk him off because that would have made the touch awkward when it wasn't.

"I haven't been myself."

"I don't know you well enough to know if that's true or not."

Roger chuckled, "You do."

I gazed up at him, "Well, I suppose you've been more batty since the tabloid exposure."

"Fucking Daily Mail." He agreed with the roll of his eyes, "And before you scold me again, I know it was my own actions that got me in trouble."

Roger allowed a brief moment of silence to surround us before he quickly chased it off again, "I'm off to Munich this week."

"Is that a good idea?" I blurted before I could stop myself.

"Hm?"

"Well," I cleared my throat, "You and Dominique don't seem too... steady at the moment."

"Her and Felix are coming with me-- for a few weeks. It'll do us some good."

After spending the evening with the pair I think they needed more than "some good" but what do I know? That craziness could be their dynamic. If this was just a rough patch, perhaps a holiday could help smooth things over again.

"Archie seems like a gent." Roger randomly added before I could reply.

"Yeah, he is." Maybe a little bit too much of a gentleman.

Roger smirked as if he could read my mind, "If you get bored, you'll have to pop over for a visit."

"Yeah, I'll do that." I replied in a tone that conveyed I meant the exact opposite.

"I'm serious, if you ever want to get away from dreary old England, just say the word."

"I'm not sure it's the best idea for you and I to be spending so much time together, alone."

Roger knew exactly what I meant but still he decided to lean in close with a wolfish grin, "If you can't control yourself around me thats not my fault."

"For fuck sake Roger," I shoved at his chest, "This is why Dominique is so angry with you, and I can't say I blame her."

Fury flashed in those blue eyes for a split second before his usual smug visage returned. "It's a joke, Layla. I'm joking with you. It's all just a bloody joke, so calm down."

It was clear from his tone that he wanted me to think that the idea of him actually flirting with me specifically was the joke. He was trying to be nasty, and I had no idea what switch had suddenly flipped in the past second. The memory of Roger and I joking about in his little studio now appeared far more distant than it truly was.

"In that case, you're hilarious." I murmured dryly and tossed my dwindling cigarette underfoot.

With that, we both returned to the dinner party from hell and suffered through another hour of stilted conversation. I practically threw myself on poor Archie once we escaped into the safety of his car.

I wanted to kick myself for ever thinking that he was too much of a gentleman before. How could that ever be a bad thing? I clearly struck gold with a man like him and shouldn't be complicating my life with the likes of Roger bloody Taylor. The Layla of a few months ago was clever enough to know that but the Layla of today was clearly a twit.

At least he would be off to Munich soon where he would forget about me completely and I wouldn't have to be the bad guy for deciding to put some distance between us... again. I had finally learnt my Roger related lesson this time, I was sure of it.

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A/N-- Thanks to anyone who managed to read this ahaha