I found my way into Rock-stock in the same way I had before, though I knew exaclty what I was risking by showing up someplace where the Sergeant was uninvited.

A week had gone by, and each time I'd gone to base no one was there. I suppose they were waiting for the hysteria caused by the succession of missing files to die down so that we could continue, but someone should have warned me not to show up.

We only had one more file to go, I didn't know what the sudden hold up was.

I found out that the bustling place with no fans was called 'backstage,' and that the general public wasn't supposed to be there without special permission. I told myself I wasn't the general public and continued to wander around, hoping that Poison might be lying around somehwere. They were pretty new at the time, so maybe Rock-stock was too big of a festival for them.

I actually found that there weren't very many people around, given the fact that it was nowhere near dark. I thought they might be running late, but I know now the majority of them would've been sleeping off the remnants of the last night's hangover, as well as trying to subtly tell their one-night-stand to leave.

I sighed, thinking it was good that I didn't see anyone I knew, nobody could reprimand me for coming here later on. I was heading straight for the door leading to the outside when I heard a voice, and it wasn't a pleasant or familiar one. "Hey! You, stop right there!" I turned my head to the side and saw a tall looking man in black clothing, similar to the ones who guarded my apartment. He didn't look super happy to see me, of course.

I stood frozen, white-hot fear coursing through my veins. I wondered, should I run, or should I stay and endure whatever he had to say to me? I didn't have enough time to think it through before he was upon me, angrily holding a hand out. "Can I see some I.D, please?"

I.D? What was that? "Some... what?"

"Do you work here, Miss?" He seemed to be becoming more irate, while I was becoming more and more confused. "Um... no?" He grunted in frustration, shaking his head back and forth wildly. "Then how the hell did you snake your way back here?" I just stared at him. "...Snake?"

"You're coming with me." He wrenched my arm painfully in one of his overly large hands, and of course-being the human rape whistle that I was- I screamed loudly as he pulled me along, pushing all of my weight against him. He had an iron grip, but I don't think he much liked the idea of everyone in the room staring at him while he dragged away a hysterical teenage girl.

"Well... that ain't cool," I heard someone whisper, along with some similar statements.

"Callie?" Someone was pushing quickly through the crowd to get to us, and I was relieved and embarrassed all at once when I saw who it was. Jon was standing there, confused at first before his eyes turned from their usual calm blue state to that of an ocean during a storm. "Hey man, what the hell are you doing to her?"

"Uh... you know this girl?" Jon nodded his head extremely slowly, which I didn't understand at the time was derogatory to the guard. "She's with me, so... let go." The man did so reluctantly, allowing me to stumble into Jon. He steadied me for a second, before turning a wry smile on the security guard. "Rick, man, I know you like women, but... you should've known this one was a little out of your league."

The whole room seemed to light up again after that-while I stood there dumbfounded- with a few cheers for Jon, and a whole lot insults for 'Rick'. "Follow me," Jon said over his shoulder, leading me through the thick throngs of people inhabiting the space. A lot of guys were patting him on the back too, I didn't understand why.

He stopped walking once we came to a relatively quiet place, a stack of stage equipment that no one was using or moving. He turned, crossing his arms with a quaint smile on his face. "Callie, I didn't expect to see you here. Man... I would've warned you about Rick if I'd known." He ruffled up his scruffy hair the way a goose would his feathers, gazing at me all the while.

"That would've been nice," I managed to say, trying my hardest not to stare at his clothing. It was weird not to see him in all black, but instead a leather jacket and tight pants. "I probably learned my lesson showing up uninvited last week, but... I don't know, I just came. I figured if the Sergeant was here I'd just lie and say I came for the music, but..." Jon was laughing, which threw me off for a second. "I'm not great at lying." I concluded, while he composed himself.

"Yeah, well he's not here yet anyways, don't worry about it. He shouldn't be until the show tonight, Guns N' Roses doesn't exactly believe in sound checks."

"Sound checks?" "Yeah, you know, making sure all the lighting and equipment works before the actual show tonight? It also gives us a little chance to rehearse some. The time slots for sound checks are in the morning, so I make sure my band comes." I was in awe. He didn't snap at me, or mock me for not knowing somthing. He simply explained, happily so.

"And they don't do that?" "No, they basically just show up around the time they're supposed to for the show. Sounds pretty irresponsible to me, doesn't it?" I gave him a half smile and a nod.

"Woah, hey look! It's Jon getting his game on." I jumped just in time to see a tall man who looked eerily similar to Izzy- with slightly lighter hair-approaching quickly, wearing the goofiest grin. Jon's face contorted for a second before the man was upon us, slinging arm around Jon's shoulder. "Oh, she's cute. Way better than the last one, dontcha think? Get your game on, man, don't mind me. It's gonna be like I'm not even here at all, won't even see me." He whispered the last few words.

"Game?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. Jon groaned, rubbing his face with his palms. "Yeah, don't mind him. He was just leaving." "Man, no I wasn't I just got here! Who are you, doll?"

"Doll?"

"Callie, this is my guitarist, Richie. Richie, a girl I know, her name is Callie." Richie grinned at me, advancing with his arms held out. I was already cringing when Jon put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Don't do that, trust me." His arms were like spaghetti and fell to his sides instantly. "Alright, alright, no hugs, that's cool."

"Well... I should probably go now, before Rick finds another reason to attack me." I gave this Richie character another suspicious glance, and turned to leave. "Hey, Callie. Wait a second, where are you going?" I looked back at Jon, shrugging. "Home? I really should go, I mean-"

"No, no, hold up a second. Why don't you stay? If you don't, I'm stuck with Richie for company." He wiggled his eyebrows comically, and I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't really think I should stick around here-"

"I have a few hours to kill before rehearsal, I'll go with you." "Um..."

"Come on, let's bounce." I thought I heard the Sergeant use that phrase before, so I knew to followJon when he began striding quickly across the room. I pointed to the metal door, which was falling behind us. "But that's the most discrete way out," I whispered, nodding toward it. There was a brick wall on one side of the room, laced with cables and stray light fixtures, and with one lone door in the center. He placed his hand on the knob, and shook his head once.

"If there's one thing you're gonna learn about me, Callie, it's that when we're not at base..." He threw open the door, exposing us both to blinding daylight. The fans milling about suddenly stopped, and formed a crowd in seconds. "I hate to be discrete."

There was a precarious metal staircase separating us from the ground, and they all gathered around the bottom of it, screaming and calling his name.

I wanted to turn and run, but he'd already shut the door behind us. They were chanting so loudly I could hardly hear my own thoughts. "Is this really necessary?" I called to him, but he only pointed to his ear and cocked his head. "What?"

The sound of screaming only attracted more people, and soon there was a bonafide wall of humans blocking us in to the staircase. "What do we do now?" He still couldn't hear me, but he took my arm anyways. "Come on! This is the only way out." He eased down the stairs teasingly, one step at a time. The fans were halfway to clinical insanity when we reached the bottom. They made a path as we went, yet they reached for him, touching his hair and his clothes.

I was sweating, cringing every time someone reached out to me. Why would they wanna touch me? I was just the girl he had along side him, completely oblivious to what a huge honor that was considered to be. He was grinning, laughing, shaking hands with people. I convulsed like a schizophrenic until we finally reached the end of the crowd.

"Come on, we've gotta run." He looked behind us, and it was clear the fans were ready to chase him. "What? Run? What do you-" He forced his hand into mine and suddenly we were sprinting down the sidewalk. He was laughing like a maniac, looking over his shoulder constantly to see if they were coming. He didn't need to, I'm sure people fifty blocks away could hear the sound of screaming and stampeding feet.

"Jon! They're getting closer!" I yelled, already winded after a mere one block distance. "I know!" He winked, and completely out of the blue yanked me sideways into a space between two buildings. It was an alleyway actually, a long one. "Duck down," he whispered, crouching in a ball beside me on the ground. I kneeled down and did the same, and luckily for us, the stampede rushed by without stopping. I stayed like that after they were gone, I found it mentally comforting.

"Callie, you alright?" He was panting, cautiously poking his head around the corner to make sure everyone was gone. I looked up at him, I could feel the clamminess of my own skin. "That... was a lot of people. I don't do well around people."

"I don't see that in you." He was lying, no doubt. He had to be.

I stared blankly at his hand when he held it down to me, unsure of what to do with it. "Come on, I'll... take you to the Spy Museum." Slowly I placed my hand on top of his, and he pulled me to my feet. "A spy... museum?" He nodded, and we went back to the sidewalk. I let go of his hand and he quickly shoved it in his jacket pocket, avoiding my eyes. The people here seemed a lot calmer, and slowly I forgot my extreme anxiety.

"I thought everyone had heard of that place," he said, glancing at me curiously. "How long have you been in D.C?"

Was this his way of trying to milk information out of me for the benefit of the RUG? I guess he could see the thought in my mind, because he laughed informally, rubbing his hands together. "Don't worry, kiddo. This isn't a work thing, this is just talk."

"I've been here a little while," I said, when in fact I'd never been anywhere else in my entire life. "Hm, well you've gotta let me show you some places. This city's great, not like Jersey, though, but..."

"What is Jersey like?" We turned the corner and continued down another street. A brick building with a glass storefront was coming into view, with the red letters 'Internation Spy Museum' advertised right on the front. We walked along toward it while Jon pondered, exhaling a breath slowly. "I don't know, it's different from here. I think you'd like it more, honestly. Sure, there's a lot of people or whatever, but... they're different."

We stopped in front of the building. "Different how?" I was probably batting my eyelashes, from the way he smiled after that. "Well... there was always music, everywhere. Guys playing guitar on the streets with a can full of change, these... huge Hawaiian guys with tiny ukeleles and the sweetest voices. There was an amazing club scene, open at all hours of the night, someone cool was always playing. You never knew who until you went, too, that was the fun in it. Well... at least I didn't, until I was the one playing them, ya know?"

"Really?" I breathed, grinning up at him. Looking back, I was completely oblivious to my body language, and I cannot blame Jon for perceiving it a certain way. Any normal being would, except those secluded from the public during crucial years of social development. Sometimes I wish I could go back and slap that doe-eyed look right off of my face.

"Yeah. Maybe I'll take you some time." I smiled even wider at the thought of some place besides D.C, a place where there was no threat of being seen or compromised, a place where I didn't have to be a lady. And then I was kicking myself for that, why wouldn't I want to be a lady? Cap wanted me to, so I should want to, right?

"Come on." I shivered when he placed his hand gently against the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. He reminded me of Cap just a little bit when he opened it for me, allowing me to enter first. I was hoping he'd put his hand back, and at the same time I was dreading it. The dread won. I was about to wander off into the museum when he called me back, "Callie, whoa! We've kinda got pay for it first," he said, nodding toward the welcome desk. "We do?"

"Yeah, you are something," he was laughing to himself, and approaching the desk. I stood there, digging around in my pockets for money. I had an annoying amount of one-dollar bills saved up there, and by the time I'd retrieved what I thought to be enough Jon had already returned with two tickets in his hand. "Here."

"But..." I stared at the money in my palm. "Put that away," he said playfully, and we began walking shoulder to shoulder. "You shouldn't have done that, how much did it cost you?" He scoffed, "You're too considerate. I have plenty of money, don't worry. That's the one thing to not stress about in my life, I guess. So much going on these days."

He was staring at the floor, so I studied his face. I was genuinely curious about him, how he could be so gentle and kind, while the Sergeant was the meanest person I knew. I didn't know what to do when he caught me staring and smiled, somehow I didn't know that people had the superhuman ability to sense when someone's eyes were on them for just a bit too long.

"So... how did you start Bon Jovi?" He lit up at the question, gazing out into the open room. There were kids running free, chasing each other, pointing to the exhibits stationed all around the room. Doing things I would've loved to do when I was a girl.

"Way back in 1983," he said, glancing toward me. "But that wasn't when I started the music. It's a long story, you don't wanna hear-" "But I do," I said, resisting the urge to touch his arm as I did so. He chuckled, picking at a stray piece of thread hanging from his sleeve.

"Alright, well... born in a town called Perth Amboy, Jersey. Though the downtown part of it is technically New York, but you get the gist. Anyway, like I said the music was everywhere, and I've been playing guitar since I was big enough to hold one. Both my parents were ex-Marines, and they didn't want me to get into music, of course. My mom was also a Playboy Bunny, so..."

"What's that?" I nearly tripped over an abandoned bucket of popcorn, holding his arm for support. He put his hand on mine to make sure I was steady, and kept it there. I didn't know how to take my hand away without coming off as rude, because frankly I was uncomfortable with it. I tried to ignore it as he continued with his story.

"Don't worry 'bout it. The music was everywhere, and I wanted so badly to be apart of it. I remember standing outside my cousin Tony's recording studio, just wishing I could be in there. I was always skipping school with Tony, to... play with some local band or whatever, and I got branded truant by the time I was sixteen. I was already playing clubs and shit by then, but stupid Judge made me go away to the marines, like my dumb ass parents."

"Is that where you learned how to hack?" He nodded, "Yeah, no way my parents would let them deploy me, so I just stayed at this base on the coast, they taught me how. I came back two years later, and met Richie, from back there. That's when Tony opened the recording studio, and in '82 I recorded this song, 'Runaway.'"

"Oh, I love that song!" I chirped excitedly, recalling the initial instrumental as the best part. "Yeah, so I went to all these recording companies to pitch myself, I had Richie by then, and Tico, Alec. Mercury finally cut us a break, and here I am." I didn't know what a recording company was, but I nodded and laughed anyway.

We left the museum a little while later, and by then the heat was extremely pressing and the sun was relentless. "Let's go to the square." He suggested excitedly, nodding toward some distant place a few blocks down. "The square?"

"Yeah, come on!" I watched as he shot out in front of me, legs pumping. I noticed that his arm was extremely firm beneath my hand, he must've worked out all the time. "Jon!"

"Keep up, Callie!" He was halfway down the block so I had no choice but to follow, all the way into this rectangular area filled with stores and cobblestones, people, and a huge fountain right in the center. He was standing at it when I approached, wheezing and sweating. He wasn't, he seemed calm and pensive as he watched the water spout and crash into the pool below, peppered with coins on the bottom.

"There was a fountain like this back home." He nodded toward it, reaching down and dipping his fingers in. "A bit smaller." He took off his jacket, wearing nothing but a tank top underneath. He folded the thing carefully, and began to remove his boots. "What are you doing?"

"It's a pretty hot day, isn't it? The pools are probably crowded." He sat on the ledge of the fountain, chuckling as he dipped both of his legs in. "Cold." He then moved to sit down in the water, which came right up to his chest. I stared at him with eyes like golf balls, looking hastily over both shoulders. "I... I don't think we're supposed to do that."

"So? Live a little, come on. It's super hot, and you look like you just ran a marathon." I did, I thought. I wanted to ask why, I wanted to leave, but I didn't. I kicked my shoes off, and cursed myself for wearing pants in the summer. It never mattered before, the temperature in my apartment stayed at a chilly seventy-one degrees year round. I sat on the ledge, reluctantly letting one foot slip into the chilly water. I was too focused to see Jon's hand sneak up and grip my wrist, pulling me in beside him all at once.

"Oh!" I called out, the water came just past my chin. "We used to do this all the time, me and Tony, only we were scavenging for money." I giggled, floating effortessly around him and smiling at something I did know how to do. I used to love to swim when I was a kid, Jess promised to put me on a team if I was good enough. I was.

"Oh, you're good at this," he laughed, floating along after me. That turned into a sort of race, and a lot of splashing, and as time passed I was forgetting myself. I was forgetting Cap, I forgot the RUG, I forgot the CIA, I forgot that I was the most inexperienced human being on the planet. I was having fun, real fun. I even forgot Jess.

I loved it.

People might've been staring, pointing, laughing. For once, I didn't care.

When I was too tired to race anymore, I slid up to sit on the ledge, shivering a bit from the icy cold water. He stared up at me with a smile, water droplets dotting his eyelashes. "I think your mascara is running." I gasped, prodding my face with my fingers. "Dang it."

"Relax, relax, I'm kidding." He laughed, and pulled himself out of the fountain. Just then church bells were ringing, and he stiffened to listen. "Oh shit, it's three o'clock. Rehearsal was... two hours ago, and the show is in two more." He didn't seem really worried. "Sounds pretty irresponsible to me, doesn't it?" I teased him. He picked up his jacket and boots, "Yeah, we should go."

We walked. All the way back to the arena, dripping and laughing, all the way backstage where Richie was talking to two other guys. "Look who finally decided to show up." Jon rolled his eyes, running a hand through his soaked hair. "Whatever, man." My teeth chattered uncontrollably, the air conditioning in there was insane.

"We've gotta get ready to go on, man," said one of the other guys, nodding toward some stage equipment. "Yeah, yeah, just..." He looked back at me, smiling. "You want some free tickets? They're great, if you wanna watch the show." I considered it for a few seconds, and then remembered that I'd be crushed up against people with sweaty bodies and grabby hands. "Nah, I'll pass."

"Well, here's the key to my dressing room, then." He tossed it to me. "Wait there."

He gave a quick nod and followed the rest of them off, looking back at me once to smile.

****

I awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening, sitting up straight as a rail all of a sudden. I heard the light switch flip, and Jon was standing the doorway, wearing his RUG clothes. I could smell the soap from where I was, so I assumed he had just returned from a shower. "Oh hey, did I wake you? My bad."

I yawned. "It's okay, I'm alright." He went to the compact refrigerator in the corner of the room, peering inside. "Oh, sweet. Lemonade." He sounded a bit hoarse, but I imagine he would after playing a show. He removed a bottle and started gulping it down. I watched him.

Romance is for the weak, just like puppies, pet names and lemonade.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want some?" I nodded once and he retrieved a bottle for me, coming to rest on the floor in front of the couch I was lying on. He let out a breath, letting his head rest against the couch. "Ugh, I really don't feel like it tonight. I am wiped out." I believed it, too. Tired creases made themselves at home on his forehead, and his eyes closed for a second. "But I liked today. Didn't you?"

I was having trouble with the lemonade's twist-off cap, it wasn't something I was used to. "Yeah, it was great." He fluidly took the bottle from me and removed the cap, handing it back afterward. "Thanks."

"No problem. You mind if I sit up there with you? This floor isn't really comfortable." "Oh, yeah-"

"Thanks." He lifted my legs from my couch cushion-surprising the hell out of me-and sat down, placing them on his lap afterward. He was testing the water, but I didn't know it. He didn't even pretend to yawn before he propped up his arm behind me, resting on the top of the couch. His fingers were just above my shoulder, gently burying themselves in my hair.

"So... I kinda feel like we've talked about me all day. I don't really know anything about... you. I know your name is Callie, which I think is beautiful by the way-" I giggled, and he continued. "I know you are an amazing swimmer, and hacker, I know you were probably real sheltered as a kid, since you don't know what a Playboy Bunny is, but... other than that..."

"Trust me, that's all you need to know. There's not much else," I whispered. He moved a little closer, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Now, that can't be true, a girl like you? You must have had a million experiences, and I wanna hear about them all. What was your New Jersey? What were your parents like, I told you all about mine."

"I haven't seen my parents in ten years. I'm seventeen." His eyes saddened a bit, but he didn't shy away. He was so close to me now, but I thought we was just trying to be comforting.

"That's a shame, Cal. Do you remember them?" I nodded, and looked down at my fingers. "My dad was the lenient one, really. I could never do anything wrong by him. He was the busiest man in the world, but he still made time for me, every single day. I was his favorite, and everyone knew it. I loved my mom, too, but she felt so badly about my father's favoritism that we didn't connect much. She tried to focus on my siblings, but... they're gone."

When I looked up, his face was nanometers away, just watching me. "They made a beautiful girl."

And then he leaned in.

I didn't scream, I knew that wouldn't be right. I placed a hand against his chest and leaned back, eyes wide with confusion. "Jon, what are you doing?" I said raggedly, heart beating a mile a minute. He looked just as confused as I was. "Trying to kiss you! You made me work for it all day, so I thought this was the right time!"

"Wait... what? That was... I thought you were just being nice." "I was, because I like you, Cal." I wanted to run and hide, I didn't want to ruin this perfect day with the fact that I was too inexperienced to understand his signals. "Oh."

He was leaning in again, and I was panicking. "Now come here," he was saying, just as the door slammed open against the back wall. The Sergeant was in the doorway this time, looking angry as usual. "Godfather, it's time to go-" he stopped when he saw us, and his eyes went through such a monsoon of feeling that I couldn't decipher it all before it went away.

"Calliope! Stand up, right now." He barked at me, and I was by his side before he could finish the command. I was feeling guilty, guilty for Jon, guilty for the Sergeant. Jon's eyes were unreadable as he too stood, taking a step toward me. "Don't," the Sergeant growled at him for reasons unknown to me.

"We've got work to do."

I followed him out without another word to Jon.

~fin~