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Secrets of the Mother

Chapter Text

January, 1993

    Los Angeles, California

 

“I definitely had fun tonight, and I certainly Wish I could stay, but I gotta get back home before anyone reports me missing.”

    A soft and sleepy, but distinctly masculine chuckle drifted on the Air from the right of Katana DuBrow, who’d had the Time of her Life. This was either the second or third Time she’d gotten to see a live concert by Poison, but it was the first Time she’d gotten to go backstage and actually meet the band. It was a shame she wasn’t tangled up with her band member of choice, but then again, she was lucky enough to even get this chance–there was no reason to dwell on the what-ifs and I-Wishes.

    “Yeah, that’s the shitty part for you,” the man at her side said as he rolled slightly toward his left. “Course, I’d have my own problems from having ya stick around–and they wouldn’t come from me not wanting ya to.”

    “At least we’ve the memories of a wild Night that turned out better than we were expecting to carry with us for the rest of our Lives,” she told him.

    “Mmm hmm,” he hummed in response, lowering his head once more.

    That one kiss wound up turning into far more again, and by the Time she managed to disentangle herself, the young woman really had to get going. She was sure that her folks–particularly the fiancé she hadn’t told tonight’s man about–were waiting up on her, even though it was only right around Midnight. Even though it wasn’t really all that late, she didn’t wanna stay out too much later and wind up with the cops breathing down her neck–if anyone bothered to report her missing. Luckily, as long as that particular scenario didn’t happen, she was a damn good liar when she wanted to be–she could put those sociopathic tendencies to good use so she could get to sleep sooner.

    Even as the musician she’d just had a wild and memorable Night with watched her walk out the door of his dressing room, neither of them realized they’d eventually meet again. However, their reason for meeting in the Future wouldn’t be nearly as good–or rather, it’d be just as good in some ways, far from it in others. Despite what he’d just told her about Wishing she could stick around, he’d be ready to vomit at the sight of her–and so would someone else.