When Robert shuffled his tired, sweat-drenched self off the stage, he found a beady-eyed Bonzo hot on his heels.

"Bit of a surprise, eh?" Bonzo elbowed him, playfully. "The pretty bloke turned up after all."

Robert flushed, letting out a veritable arsenal of curses under his breath. "You sent him a flyer?"

"It was worth a try, wasn't it?"

Deciding not to dignify that with a response, Robert surged forward in an attempt to outpace his friend. All he wanted to do was get home, take a long, long, long shower and get rid of the throbbing...problem in his pants.

"It seems we meet again."

Robert froze. The voice was awfully familiar. In fact, it was a little too familiar for his comfort.

Jimmy unglued himself from the wall, a little smile playing about his lips. He looked so unnaturally pure - like some demure schoolboy - that the throb in Robert's pants sent a wave of guilt coursing through him for wanting to defile something so pure.

"Cat got your tongue?" Jimmy cocked a brow.

Had Robert been aware of the noises coming out of his mouth, he might have second-guessed the witty brilliance of a statement like, "Urgh?"

Thankfully, Bonzo came to his aid, positively bouncing with the bluster that only he could pull off. "You're the Yardbirds chap, aren't you? Nice of you to drop in to see one of our gigs, mate."

Jimmy's lips made a small moue of dissatisfaction. Clearly, he did not like being called 'the Yardbirds chap'. "I'm here to see a Mr Robert Plant."

Robert's heart all but leapt into his throat. He coughed. "Wh-what?"

"I'm looking for a vocalist to join a group I'm forming. Terry Reid told me to check out a band called, er...Hobbstweedle and listen to their lead vocalist. Also," he continued, somewhat drily, "I was sent a flyer advertising this show. Or, rather, six flyers. Evidently, the promoters of this show had an unlimited budget."

"Christ!" Bonzo pronounced, faux-startled. "I wonder who'd do a thing like that!"

Were the two of them alone, Robert would have loved to have gifted his best mate a well-deserved kick in the shins. As things stood, however, the best he could manage was a weak, nervous, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Jimmy replied, looking mildly confused.

Robert swallowed, with much difficulty; his throat was suddenly as dry as old bones. "Did I make the cut?"

Jimmy laughed - a light, breathless sound. "Do you honestly think I would be standing here, talking to you, if I had not already decided that your voice would do justice to the kind of music I imagine my band would be playing?"

"Er..." It took Robert an unnecessary amount of time to process what Jimmy had just said. "So...does that mean I'm...in?" He felt an ecstatic beat start to pound in his chest.

Jimmy just shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up in a sly smile. "I didn't say that. Your voice might be suitable, but, as yet, I don't know if you are."

Well, isn't that a bleeding riddle. Try as he might, he couldn't help the way the his heart sank like a giant ball of lead, all designs on a beat of elation swiftly forgotten.

Sliding a his hand into his pocket, Jimmy extracted a small card and passed it to Robert. "This is my address. I would appreciate it if you could it if you could swing by sometime tomorrow afternoon, to talk over a few things."

Robert examined the card. Exquisite printed calligraphy had jotted down the street and house number of a residence in Pangbourne. This feels a bit as though I'm being summoned to the headmaster's office. Well, no. That's not quite true. I've never wanted to throw my headmaster against a wall and-

"Two thirty would be a good time." Jimmy went on. "I have to warn you that I'm a very punctual person – and I'd rather you were the same."

Bonzo let out a barely audible snort. Small wonder why - Robert was unfailingly unpunctual.

"Is it settled, then?" Jimmy asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

It occurred to Robert that he'd been waiting for a reply. "Er - yes. That sounds brilliant."

Jimmy smiled, briefly. A lock of dark hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it aside with an impatient hand. "Wonderful. I look forward to getting to know you better, Robert."

I can't tell you how much I like the sound of that. "Er - yeah."

Ducking his head, Jimmy departed, swiftly getting lost in the flood of people exiting the club.

Unaware of the fact that he'd been anxiously holding his breath, Robert released it in a satisfying whoosh. He hadn't made a total fool of himself, had he?

"So," Bonzo elbowed him in the ribs, "you want to know the pretty bloke better, don't you?"

Flushing at how on the nose his friend's lobbed innuendos were, Robert growled, "I think it would be as good an opportunity as any for me to make it as a blues singer. After all, he's a professional musician - that carries some clout, doesn't it?"

"Ha!" the drummer snorted. "I know what you really want, mate."

"Shut up." Robert hissed, flushing a furious red now.

"And it isn't what he's selling." Suddenly, Bonzo's face seemed to have an unnaturally serious slant to it.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think he's," Bonzo made some vague gestures, "into blokes. I mean," he continued, awkwardly, "just because a chap looks like a bird doesn't mean he is a bird."

He'd be lying if he said he didn't know that already, but hearing it from a third party just left a different kind of hurt altogether.

"Percy?" Bonzo lay a hand on his shoulder in an uncharacteristically gentle manner. "Are you alright, mate?"

"I'm tired." Robert replied, mechanically. That was a lie. He felt cold - so cold. "I think I ought to get home."

Either through tact he didn't know Bonzo possessed – or just good fortune – Robert was allowed to take his leave with no further interruptions. When he got home, the first thing he did was step into the embrace of a toasty warm shower.

For the time being, at least, the thought of wanking off whilst imagining Jimmy sweaty and panting beneath him had lost its allure. Well...not all of its allure - but a good percentage.

I ought to find a woman. Some nice, sweet woman my parents will approve of. Settle down, have kids...go the whole hog. He paused,  After all, Jimmy can't give me children, or a family.

For a man that had yet to get his life in order, Robert did yearn for children someday. Children to nurture – children whose dreams he'd fight hard not to let extinguish.

Jimmy can't give me that - even if he did like me back. Robert thought. And he doesn't. He never will.

Ah, came a voice, unbidden, from the back of his mind, but Jimmy can excite you in a way no woman can.

Suddenly weary, Robert sighed, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He deserved a drink, and a stiff one at that.

✦✦✦

Well, hello there!

There's a good dose of angsty Robert at the end because I'm a sadist. Yeah, I'm one sadistic cookie.

This is turning into a really slow-paced romance, but I'm hoping to get the ball rolling a little faster in the next chapter. I've been so caught up in homework that I used this as therapy. The result? A Jimbert fic with no smut in sight. But that is definitely subject to change. *rubs hands together like a fly* Expect some interesting developments in the next chapter!

[UPDATE 2022: Well, d'you ever look back at your writing and realise how absolutely juvenile it was? Yeah, it's practically hitting me in the face, but that serves me right for abandoning this fic for a million years!]