~The Izzy Cam~

The phone rang again, irritating the both of them out of their minds. Skipper sighed as she watched Axl chasing Dylan, the little boy always seemed to know when bed time was near and loved to put it off by any means necessary.

"It's that same number again, someone from St. Louis." She sighed. "Do you know who that is?"

Axl stiffened up, finally having captured the wriggling boy into his arms. Dylan giggled, kicking his chubby little legs. Axl laughed nervously, "Uh... I don't know anyone from St. Louis, so... I uh, it... could be anyone." He hurried down the hall with Dylan into his bedroom, shutting the door tightly after him.

The phone was still ringing. Skipper thought for a split second about how awkward his behavior had been, and picked it up. "Hello?" She whispered.

"Is this the residence of W. Axl Rose?" responded a nasaly voice. "Yes."

"This is the St. Louis City police department, we're calling regarding the status of several warrants he has not responded to." Skipper gulped hard, staring at the phone. "I think you've got the wrong person."

"No, we don't. We have several legitimate warrants for his arrest, all of which he has evaded-"

Skipper slammed the phone back down onto the receiver, gulping though her mouth was drier than a desert. Axl was Dylan, running around wildly to avoid arrest, but sooner or later the arms of the law would descend.

The phone rang again as Axl came back into the room, yawning loudly. He froze as Skipper glared at him.

****

Skipper's POV

I swallow hard, peering down at the script in my hand. "Um... there's no marriage in this."

Rosie nods, "Yeah, see... it's gonna be a sort of a trilogy. The marriage isn't until the second part." I didn't agree to that, but they've made it clear I can't back down now. I've got a surgery an hour from now, which doesn't leave much time for negotiation.

The room is filled to the brim, with the band, crew members, and management. Making legitimate music videos seems to be much more complicated then just shooting when they're on stage, and a much lengthier project. Everyone in the room stares at me, whether they're seated at the round table as well or standing around. Slash leans against the door, looking like his best friend just died.

"Just sign there, and we can start," Rosie says gently, pushing a fancy metal pen my way along with a thick contract. "Should I get a lawyer to look over this with me?" I laugh nervously.

"They already fired that hot chick Stephanie Seymour," Steven points out, leaning over into my space to lay his head on my shoulder. "She was a professional model, too. But... she's taller than everyone but Duff, and she has no tits." Izzy lets out a bark of laughter, patting Steven's back roughly. "Well... that's true."

"You... fired her?" I swallow. Rosie shrugs, "She can find something else."

"'Don't Cry'... that's the song you sang at the AIDS gala, isn't it?" "Yeah, and November Rain is something else... we're not looking to release these for a few years, we're just getting ahead of the game while we're still hot."

"That model girl was a professional, I'm a doctor." "He thinks it would look realer if it was his actual... girlfriend. Now had you made the right decision, you'd be spared from this bullshit." Slash takes a drag on his cigarette and expels the grey smoke. Everyone turns to look at him while I groan; there's definitely a headache brewing between my temples.

"So it lives," Duff snorts. I can see the trouble swirling in Rosie's eyes, so I give in and hastily sign my name on the dotted line. "Whatever, I have a dyskenesia stimulation surgery to get to."

"We start shooting tomorrow," Rosie says as I stand, placing a kiss on my cheek. "Where's Dylan?" I immediately question him, it's noon on a weekday. "At home." Rosie says casually, tapping the pen against my signed contract. "Alone?!" I snap, and he shrugs. "He was sleeping when I left."

"Are you lacking common sense? You have to get back there to him, he's gonna destroy everything!" He laughs, shaking his head. "Calm down, girlie. He's fine, and I can't leave now, we have a few things to wrap up." "I have a surgery."

I turn and look down at Steven, who's grinning as usual. He generally a happy person, with the aid of several narcotics. "How... how good are you with kids, Stevie?" His eyes are round and wide as they meet mine. "Um... okay, I guess?" "Good!" I toss him my house key. "Now you're gonna go back to Malibu, and watch our orphan."

"He's not an orphan," Rosie rolls his eyes. "Well he certainly didn't come from me," I snap right back. "I dunno, genetics can be weird..." Steven says, earning a slap from me on the back of his head. "Go, hurry up." Rubbing the back of his head, he squints up at me. "Sure, whatever." Steven drags himself up and out of the room, muttering to himself all the while.

"Let's all pray he doesn't introduce the kid to weed," Izzy mumbles as I make my way to the door. Kissing Rosie goodbye crossed my mind, but I don't act on it. Not with Slash watching my every move with the most precise irritation.

"Junior," Rosie says shortly as I give the room one last sweep with my eyes, the amount of people here scares me. "Yeah, like I said. Life-changing surgery here, I'll see you all later." Rosie scoffs. The edges of Slash's mouth turn up just slightly as I go, right before he returns his attention to his cigarette.

****

I wipe the sweat from my brow, staring with frustration at the clock mounted on the wall. "Damn it, at this rate I'll never get out of here in time." Monkey number one peers down at the surgical field, clearing her throat politely. "Well, if Bon Jovi wasn't blasting in the background right now, maybe you could... focus better?"

I consider this, taking some forceps from a scrub nurse. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe all I need is a little Brownstone to set me right." Her eyes widen and she gives me a weird look. "Not... literal Brownstone, just the song." "No, it's not that," Monkey says carefully, and nods as casually as possible toward the OR door. These days it seems like I can never get any alone time in here.

"Well, if this isn't the hottest thing I've ever seen, then I don't know what is." My eyes are gold balls as I meet her grey ones. I know that voice, it's almost as creepy as X's. Slimy, more arrogant than any surgeon I've met, including myself. Panic rushes through my veins as Jon chuckles, staring a hole through my back. "Little Skipper Nelson, playing her doctor game while listening to my music. Oh wait, it's not a game, right? My apologies."

I want to stab him in the eyes with my scalpel, and several more deadly sharp surgical tools.

More so than this, I want to be as far from him as possible. "Dr. Nelson? Don't be so rude as to ignore your guest, he came a long way to see you."

And then my eyes narrow. The bitch Candy, she strikes again. My breath quivers a little as I set my forceps and my scalpel into the nearest metal basin, still never daring to turn around. "Um... you know, my um... my boyfriend is expecting me right now... the man who will probably beat you if he finds out you're here. It's a long drive to the desert, there's, um... a movie set out there." I ramble on as I force myself to turn and face him.

He looks the same, shaggy brownish hair, tight clothing. I notice that his smug smirk is somewhat subdued, but still visible. "Screw that, you wanna hang out?" He takes a step into the room and I squeal like a frightened mouse, sprinting into the scrub room. I hastily strip off my gown and latex gloves, along with my surgical mask before I fly out of the room and into the lobby.

I only stop once before leaving the building, for a tall brunette man in the waiting room. I skid right past him and then back up a few steps, staring into his coffee colored eyes. "You're Richie Sambora, aren't you?" He nods with a smile, but I race off before he can say anything else.

Once outside I hail a cab, reciting the address of the movie set in my mind and then aloud. "That's gonna cost you at least a hundred, girlie," the shabby looking driver tells me as I tuck myself into the back of his Crown Victoria, shutting the door forcefully. "Yeah, yeah whatever. Just go!"

I have some time to do away with all the hysteria after we exit the city, watching the sandy-colored hills and clouds roll by. Soon I'm completely livid.

Jon Bon Jovi lives in New Jersey, you can hear it in his voice. This means she must've invited him here to spite me, or in the hopes that I'd fall in love with him so that she could have Rosie.

Over my dead body.

What actually freaks me out about this is the fact that Jon actually showed up.

I try to get over myself as we approach the set, nothing but a shit ton of recording equipment and trailers out in the middle of the desert. I toss the driver a handful of twenties before I slip out of the car, shielding my eyes from the glaring sun. The heat beats down on me as I make my way toward the nearest trailer, looking around for any familiar faces.

I see some of the people I saw during the Paradise City shoot, but most of all I pay attention to how high-tech everything seems. Paradise City was such a rinky-dink sort of a thing, but I wouldn't be surprised to see Steven Spielberg wandering around here somewhere.

"Curly, glad you decided to join us!" At the trailer to my immediate left there is a card table set up in the shade. Three people are seated at this card table, one obviously being Slash. The other two are women, a young blonde girl who looks to be around my age, along with a tall brunette. She gives me the most intense look, I wonder if she hates me or admires me.

Slash stands, clutching an open can of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. "I half expected you to bail."

I shrug. "I wanted to, but... I kinda signed a contract. I get paid for it anyways." He rolls his eyes, sipping from the beer can. "Because you totally need the money, right? To buy tampons and dog food." I wink, pulling at one of his curls. "Yep, you hit the nail on the head. Tampons and dog food." The brunette's eyes are slits, and soon her cherry red lips are curled up into a smile. "Yup, that's definitely her. No one touches Saul's mane."

I look down at her, and then back to Slash who is openly avoiding her eyes. The blonde just chuckles, drinking her coca-cola. "That's her, isn't it? The almighty kid wonder?" There's something about her tone that I just don't like as she stands, almost taller than Slash in her heels.

"Saul? Aren't you gonna introduce us?" She places both her hands on his arm, and gives a little grin.

Uneasiness settles into the pit of my stomach. Slash is always very wary of women, even the lighthearted female fans. He said he got the 'fuck a different girl eveyr night' mentality out of him right at the beginning, and since then he's been careful about what female company he allows around himself.

The way they are right now is more frightening than Jon Bon Jovi.

Slash and I are best friends. It has to stay that way, I selfishly remind myself. He's all I have sometimes.

"Yeah, uh... Curls, this is Meegan, and old friend of mine. We go way back. Meegan... this is..." He just looks at me, like he has no idea what to say. It bothers me.

"I know who she is, I've heard loads about you. If even Duff has something good to say, then I know you're worth meeting," she says, taking one of my hands in her thin ones. There's gotta be some sort of double meaning behind those eyes of hers, that sparkle in them must be pernicious.

"Oh, um... yeah. Well... thanks?" I pull my hands away, and focus my attention on the blonde. I open my mouth to ask about her but this 'Meegan' cuts me off. "You are really pretty, you know that? It's like... if someone took Slash and shoved him down into a really small... shapely female body." She grins at me but I don't return the gesture. Is that some kind of insult.

"Um... thanks?"

Slash's eyes change as he glances down at me. Sometimes I wish he didn't know me as well.

"Uh, do you know where Rosie is?" I ask him, turning away from Meegan. His smile has vanished. He shrugs, crushing the beer can. "Who knows, why don't you stick around? I don't have to shoot for a while now." He nods toward the card table, but I politely decline. "No, it's cool. I should go find him."

Meegan watches carefully, and smiles again. "Wow, this must be a really awkward relationship if this is how you two are together. How did the making out in public ever occur?"

I inhale sharply as Slash cuts her a look, "Meegan, really?" "I mean, when we kissed we did everything in private. Remember the ring pop marriage?" And now I want to be as far as I can be from her. Slash's eyes are terrified as they find me, backing slowly away from this whole gathering. "Yeah, I've gotta find him."

"Curly, come on. Why are you being like that?" He knows exactly why.

It's because I am just as possessive as Rosie is. I am fine with tearing his heart to shreds by throwing his love away for Rosie's. I just can't watch him reminisce with an old female friend; no, that's unacceptable. Slash can't have me, but he also can't have anyone else apparently. Especially not tall brunettes with perfect teeth and red lips.

It's terrible. I'm terrible.

So maybe I won't be like that.

I force a grin, slipping out of my lab coat and draping it neatly over my forearm. "Nah, I'll see you later. Have fun with Meegan and that... chick." The blonde's eyes avert to me as she watches the scene unfold. If I'm not completely misreading the signs, a glimmer of sympathy shines in her wide blue eyes.

Slash isn't the least bit pleased as I turn, nearly running right into Izzy. Rosie is not far behind, smiling widely when he spots me. I'm slightly uncomfortable as he draws me into his arms, but not before he shoves his tongue down my throat for a good fifteen seconds.

I can feel Slash recoil behind me. "Junior, glad you showed up on time. I kinda thought you might bail on me." He kisses me again.

"Yeah, Slash said that too." I turn, and Meegan's eyes are dark and sharp. Rosie obtains my attention again, turning so that I can't see them anymore. Slash has also turned away, returning to his card table to sulk. I look after him, guilt riddling me. I can't help but notice the way the little blonde stares at him, with admiration and possible desire.

Maybe... it would be best if Slash forgot about me for a little while. The fact that I'm making him feel this way is deplorable. Men don't like to share their feelings in the first place, and the fact that I'm stomping on his, someone who's given so much to me... it hurts. I want him to be happy, and if that means letting go of my petty jealously, then I guess I'm all for it.

I make eye contact with the blonde to let her know I saw, and thankfully she doesn't shy away. She's just bold enough to dive into bed with Slash, and swipe is V-card.

"Come on, babe." Rosie pulls at my hand, tugging me toward another trailer. Meegan doesn't look away as I turn back to look at Slash, who barely meets my eyes.

I don't deserve him.

DAMN RIGHT YOU DON'T YOU FUCKING SLUT

I shouldn't say these things about the characters of my own creation... it just would've been so much easier if she picked Slash. Just sayin. But the writer in me says that conflict is always the way to go. *sighs*.

BUT THE FANGIRL IN ME SAYS SLIPPER SLIPPER SLIPPPEEEEEERRRR

**Also, many of you gunners know that 'Don't Cry' was not released until Use your Illusion one in 1991, but due to the fact that this is FICTION and that there are to be several plot twists down the line, I had to change things up a bit. Kill me now, you'll see why later.**

*clears throat* yeah. vote and comment.