Your Gypsy heart pt 5

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Sad_Girl

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Disclaimer: Made Up. Not Real. Didn’t happen.

Chapter Two: Wild Gypsy Rose Part 2

She’d had a strange feeling the moment the pager had gone off on this case. It was one of those precognitive moments when her instincts told her that something big was going to happen. Not big, necessarily, in the grand scheme of things, but life changing for her. Two days later and she found herself somewhere she had never expected to be by the furthest stretches of her imagination.

Angel had done her best to set up professional boundaries right from the start, but none of them were making that easy. Part of her wished they could be the bunch of pampered, self-centered rock stars one might expect them to be after so many years in the public light. The truth was, though more creative and expressive than most of the people she knew, they were completely down to earth.

They had all been friendly and respectful to her, despite the fact that she was certain she was coming off as cold and impersonal. She had to force herself to maintain that distance, because she knew too well the trouble that came from getting personally involved with people in an undercover situation. At least this group knew who she was, and she wasn’t lying to them. Just the rest of the world.

Cat sauntered into the room and plopped herself down on the couch with a satisfied grin on her face, and Angel focused her attention on the computer screen so the girl wouldn’t see her smile. She had to admire the younger woman’s spirit. Most people, especially in her position, would be intimidated by the responsibility of opening for such an infamous group. Cat and her band had not only risen to the challenge but they had flourished.

“You are as crazy as a shithouse rat, you know that? Shane announced with a grin as he rushed into the green room. He grabbed Cat up into his arms and spun in a circle hugging her playfully. “That was fuckin’ incredible!” Cat laughed and demanded he put her back down, which he eventually did.

“You got to have a set of steel ones to do that. If you weren’t doing one of the band, I swear we’d be out of here before our echo died.” He told her sitting next to her on the couch. She scowled at him now, obviously not appreciating his opinion on the matter.

“First of all, Shane, I am not ‘doing’ one of the band. Secondly, that’s bull shit. They are genuinely interested in helping us get on our feet in the business. They appreciate our enthusiasm for the music, the stage, the fans.” She told him, her words turning cold.

“Riiiiiight.” He replied, rolling his eyes. “I think it’s your more like back Adam’s interested in getting you on, darlin’, not your feet. Bono too.”

“You are so full of shit!” she told him, her words going from cold to hot. She was getting angry now, when it was her he was insulting it was one thing but she simply wouldn’t stand for him insulting Adam and Bono. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How long have you known him, and you’re just figuring that out?” Krash quipped as he and Alex finally joined them.

“Hey, I think you’d agree with me on this one.” Shane told him and Krash shot a doubtful glance his way. “The only reason they put up with us is because of her, am I right? Because of who she is?”

“Well, firstly, we (at least Alex and I) aren’t the ones they have to ‘put up with’.” Krash started, opening a cold bottle of water and nearly draining it. “And secondly I suppose that’s true, but I doubt you mean it in the same way I do.”

“He thinks it’s all because Adam and I are dating. And Bono? Where the hell would you get that idea?” Cat asked, turning back to Shane. Angel’s fingers slowed over the keyboard as her attention was diverted to the conversation at hand. She had not realized until earlier that very day that Cat and Adam were supposedly a couple. In fact she had rather suspected she was involved with Bono.

“Where…? Let’s see, he’s always got his arm around you, kissing you on the forehead, the hair, holding your hand, dancing with you… should I go on?” Shane argued.

“He’s a tactile person. He does all of those things with all of his friends. Yes, he’s even always hugging the other guys! It’s just part of who he is.” Cat retorted. “He’s expressive.”

“I still think…” Shane started, but Alex interrupted.

“They’re just friends! It’s not like he didn’t have his chance. Let it drop.” He sighed deeply, downing four or five tablets of Ibuprofen for his headache.

“What do you mean ‘had his chance’?” Shane asked, his eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile forming on his handsome face.

“Thanks, ‘lex. I appreciate that.” Cat told her friend sarcastically. Shane pressed her for an answer to his question. She finally sighed and told him briefly that she had, in fact, spent one night with him but nothing had happened.

“Bull shit!” Shane said, shaking his head. “No fucking way!”

“Just because you let yours lead you around doesn’t mean every man does.” Cat told him, standing and stretching, obviously tired of the company and the conversation. “I’m hitting the showers.” She informed them coolly as she left the room, making it clear the subject was closed.

“You believe that?” Shane asked, turning to Krash first and then Alex.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Alex replied, following Cat’s lead and leaving the room. Krash tossed his empty water bottle and filed out as well. Shane turned to look at Angel, but before he could say anything she shot him a look that warned him to think twice. He decided, rather than piss off another woman, to stretch out on the couch with his hat over his face, and take a nap.

Angel didn’t relax until the man’s breathing had grown slow and deep, indicating that he was soundly asleep. She cursed herself for the little thrill she felt in her heart at the knowledge that Cat and Bono were just friends. Why did she care? The man was so far removed from any of the men in her world it was ridiculous to even imagine them as a couple.

She had to shake her head at the thought of the other agents and officers with whom she associated trying to relate to Bono and his ‘expressive’ ways. No, it was ridiculous. They were not even from the same world. Not even close. So why did she feel the pull toward him was such an irresistible thing, like gravity? She was not the type to usually be taken in by charisma, which was one of the reasons her placement in the field revolved around cult groups.

She glanced up at the monitor displaying the concert taking place, her eyes finding him automatically. She watched him prance around playfully, smiling and flirting with the audience and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He was good, there was no doubt about that. And he loved every minute of being on stage, every member of the band did. They were a powerful force when put together.

His voice snaked through the speakers to wrap around her like smoke, slipping into her through her ears, through the very pores in her skin. It was like a warm shower, enveloping her, enchanting her senses, making her mind wander away from everything else. He leaned back as he really opened up his lungs with a bold tenor note, the volume level of the audience rising as well.

It wasn’t until Edge took the lead mic on a song that Angel looked back down at her computer to realize she had stopped typing several long moments ago. Mesmerizing, that was a word to describe him. When he came back on stage she tried to figure out against just what it was, but there was no single reason. It wasn’t just his broad chest and shoulders, his playful nature, his uniquely handsome face, or even the way he wore the clothes he wore. The way his hands were always tucked up in the sleeves of his jacket, just his thick fingers peeking out.

It was all of those things, but not one of them on their own could explain it. It was the entire grouping of a million little things into one person which made him so damned attractive. He was a walking contradiction; he was smart but flighty, spiritual but not religious, a man and still a boy. She didn’t know why she was wasting so much time thinking about it. Even if she were to come to the conclusion it would be ok to fall for him (which she wasn’t likely to do), there was no reason to think he’d feel anything for her.

Who was she? Nobody, nothing special. Certainly nothing like the women who he associated with in the entertainment business. She had always thought she was a fairly attractive woman, with the high cheekbones she inherited from her mother’s native American heritage, and the sun kissed skin, dark hair and dark eyes which could have come from her mother or her father, whose parents had been Puerto Rican immigrants.

She was in good shape, took pride in that. But none of that, in her mind, was the same as beauty, and especially not the kind of beauty women in these circles had. She wore no makeup at all most days, couldn’t recall the last time she’d even owned a dress or high heeled shoes.

She didn’t get her hair styled, cutting the bangs out of her eyes herself. Except for that, it was all one length, draping down to her lower back in a sheet of nearly black, straight locks. Most days she ran a brush through it and pulled it back and tied it at the nape of her neck.

She sighed and turned her attention back where it was needed, on the case files she was studying about the Disciples. They were, at first glance, a devoted Christian group, which made them fit in easier in many smaller American cities and towns. Once they set down roots, however, they were like weeds taking over a garden, ensnaring the native plants and twisting around them, killing them by stealing their light.

She had not been directly involved with any members of this group, though she was the one who spoke with undercover agents who had penetrated it. She was the one standing just on the outside, looking in, trying to get a bigger picture of what was happening inside. It was no surprise that she didn’t like what she was seeing.

It was difficult, standing at the line, trying desperately not to fall in, get too involved while at the same time knowing she had to be close in order to see clearly what was happening. It was a balancing act, understanding what they were all about and how they thought without either falling into their beliefs or closing her mind to shut everything out.

She lost herself in e-mails and old reports, throwing herself into her work as she had ever since her fiancée’ had died two years ago. It was the only way she had been able to deal with the grief. Shut it all out; focus on what she told herself was really important. In her world, that was possible. Shut out all emotions and focus on reason, only rational thinking allowed.

Bono’s world, she realized, was almost the exact opposite. He lived in an existence where feelings and emotions were first. Possibilities were boundless, the only limitations were those of one’s own imagination. Music, poetry, art, humor… all these things incorporated into a celebration of life.

She envied it, she was smart and self aware enough to admit that. But she also knew once you started a life driven on emotions you became vulnerable. There was no joy with out pain, no laughter without tears.

This was what she was thinking when roused from her thoughts by four lively men burst into the green room, all smiling and laughing, practically glowing. Maybe that was just the sweat, she thought as she looked a bit closer at them. Edge and Adam dropped into two of the arm chairs while Larry grabbed four sweating bottles of water and handed one to each of his mates. Bono settled in beside her, still breathing heavily from the exertion and excitement of the show.

“Did you watch any of it, then?” he asked, noticing she was still sitting in the same place. She turned her head ever so slightly, studying him out of the corner of her eye. Every bare inch of skin was coated in a sheen of sweat, his skin flushed, his more than half unbuttoned shirt clinging to him. She had to remind herself to focus on the important things, and not the other scenarios which came to mind in which she might like to see him in a similar state. Sweaty, flushed, short of breath, his shirt gaping open…

She quickly turned her eyes back to the computer, her heart suddenly racing. She nodded in reply to his question. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could tell he wasn’t satisfied with a simple nod. She sighed and looked back at him just in time to see him lean forward and shrug out of his shirt. *Good Lord!* She felt a rush of heat spread through her in a wave, her eyes widening instinctively in interest at the sight of his bare back, then as he sat back that broad chest covered in coarse, dark hair. She could practically taste his salty skin…

“Yeah, you guys live up to your reputation.” She told him, keeping her tone calm and impersonal, thankful for her years of training. If she had been in this situation as a rookie, she would have been a simpering puddle of goo at his feet by now. She’d have thrown her arms around his neck and begged him to make love to her. To do what he was promising in his every movement on stage, in the smooth burn of his voice in her ears.

“I guess that’s a compliment.” Adam said, smiling and shrugging. He wasn’t by any means the most outspoken or aggressive of them, but he was usually quick with a sarcastic comment or light joke. Always trying to keep a positive attitude, make life more pleasant for those around him. The others smiled tiredly as the nights exertions on stage began to settle into their muscles.

Cat sauntered into the room, towel drying her long brown hair with the bold blonde highlights. She was dressed in fresh clothes, though very similar to what she always seemed to wear. Jeans and simple cotton tank tops or t-shirts. Tonight it was a white tank top which clung to her skin which was still damp in places. She smiled brightly as her eyes met Adams and Angel felt a twinge of jealousy. It was obvious that they were crazy about each other.

“Hi.” Cat told him, dropping sideways across his lap, her legs draped across the arm of the chair, her head resting against his shoulder. He chuckled at her flirtatiousness.

“You’re going to need another shower now, I’m drenched.” He told her, but she didn’t seem to care. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly, making Edge avert his eyes in embarrassment. Bono smirked at them, and Angel wondered how she had ever thought Bono had feelings for Cat. He was obviously pleased to see her and Adam together. Larry rolled his eyes and turned away, exchanging his nearly empty bottle of water for a Guinness.

“Mmm. Salty.” Cat joked, licking her lips and wrinkling her nose. Adam laughed again.

“Warned you.” He told her. Edge cleared his throat, and she sighed deeply, climbing up off Adam’s lap. She moved over to grab a drink for herself, standing next to Larry and eyeing his Guinness.

“You sure you should drink that?” She asked. “You don’t want to start handing over the keys to your hotel room or anything like that.” She teased and he scowled at her, still not positive she was joking about him giving her the keys to his bike.

“Any news on the letter?” Adam asked Angel, turning serious for a moment.

“Yeah, actually. I got the lab report back, the foreign substance was a generic adhesive. Could’ve come from any discount office supply store in America. The person who sent it apparently changed their mind about something they had originally attached to the letter.” She informed them.

“No fingerprints but there were traces of a powder in the adhesive. The sort of powder used on latex gloves, makes them slide on and off easily.” She continued.

“So what does that tell you? Doesn’t sound like much.” Edge asked.

“No, it’s not a smoking gun or a fingerprint but it does give us reason to believe there was planning and forethought put into the letter. Beyond the fact that they found a private address and knew that you were going to be in New York at that time, they took precautions to hide evidence. That could be part of why they removed whatever it was they had stuck to the letter. They thought it could lead back to them.”

“So what about DNA, if there aren’t any fingerprints?” Cat asked. “You know like on those CSI shows, they can trace the spit that sealed the envelope.” She said with a shrug, and Angel smiled at her. It was the first real smile they had seen from her, and it was almost shocking the way it transformed her face. She was radiant when she smiled, with her full lips and brilliant white teeth.

“No, sorry. The writers on those shows should work for us, make some of the things they think of actually work. If we could do things that way, that easily, there wouldn’t be any more crime in the world.” She told her. “It’s frustrating to have people believe we’re capable of so much, even if it’s nice to know they have faith in us.”

“You know, you guys make it damn near impossible to get any sleep.” Shane mumbled from beneath his hat. With a heavy sigh, he sat up and slid the hat back on top of his head. “Toss me one o’ those, would you darlin’?” He said to Cat, gesturing at the bottles of beer.

“Hey, guys, there’s a couple of reporters out here said Bono agreed to let them do an interview.” One of the junior security officers informed them, ducking his head into the room.

“Aw, shite I did, didn’t I?” he groaned. “Give us five more minutes and then send ‘em in.” He instructed the young man, who nodded and disappeared back into the hallway.

“Feck, Bono, why did you go an’ do that? I’m dead ass tired tonight and we all need a shower something fierce.” Larry asked.

“Not a problem.” Bono replied, standing and stretching casually. “It’s not us they’re here to interview, it’s them.” He nodded at Cat and Shane, the only members of Tequila Monster in the room.

“Us?” Cat asked, her green eyes growing wide.

“That’s right, some local TV news reporters were here for the show. About three quarters of the way through your act I got a call that they wanted to bring a cameraman down and do an interview for the local news. Not something we’d often do, but it’ll be great exposure for you guys.” He explained.

“That’s … great, but what do I… I mean…” she stammered in surprise.

“Just answer their questions and be yourself. Shane, just shut up and be anyone but yourself, and the two o’ you’ll be just fine. I’m gonna round up Krash and Alex.” He replied, and as he left, he returned the rude gesture Shane had made at his comment.

“Good luck.” Adam told Cat, kissing her on top of the head as he hurried out to the showers, not anxious to be filmed in his current condition. Edge and Larry were quick to follow. They young security officer was back in almost exactly five minutes, this time with a burly cameraman and a far-too-perky woman who introduced herself as Peggy Jameson from WKIB Boston’s channel 8 news.

Angel did her best to blend into the wallpaper, sitting quietly and acting as if she didn’t even know they were there. If anyone asked, she had to introduce herself as Bono’s girlfriend, and she wasn’t quite ready for the attention that would bring down upon her. She figured it was best to simply stay quiet and in the background for as long as possible.

“This is Peggy Jameson, and I’m backstage with a hot new group who introduced themselves to Boston tonight in a big way.” The reporter said into the microphone, smiling a big, phony smile at the camera. She paused and gestured for the cameraman to stop rolling.

“Tequila Monster is the name of your band, right?” She asked, looking at her notes. Cat, who was now surrounded by the three men in her band, agreed that was correct. The woman asked for their names and where they were from, made sure she had their instruments correct and such things before putting her fake smile on once more and turning to the camera again.

“The name of the Band is Tequila Monster, and they’re living the dream of countless young musicians, opening for the internationally known and loved group U2.” She said. “The band is made up of Shane Ingrham, Alex Stevenson, Cat Williams and a young man who goes only by the name of Krash. Was that inspired, do you think, by U2’s Bono or The Edge?” She asked, turning the focus onto Krash.

“Uh, well… I suppose it might have played a role. I’ve just been called Krash by my friends since I was in pre-school, so it seemed more natural to use it as a stage name.” He replied, and the woman fired back another question, this one directed at the whole group.

“So were you fans of U2 before you got this opportunity?”

“Sure. I don’t know of a musician who isn’t, if not a fan necessarily, at least they respect them. They’re our generations Beatles. They’ve introduced new ideas into popular music, broken boundaries and borders in music, politics, religion…” Cat replied, and when she paused here, Peggy took the chance to continue to her next question.

“So how did this come about, I understand you don’t have a contract or a record deal with anyone. In fact, you were basically just a cover band. How did you manage to jump from relative unknowns to such a sought after spot on the same stage as U2?”

All three of the men looked at Cat, who fought to keep from glaring at the woman for her insulting tone. They obviously did not know just how to answer the question, so she jumped in again.

“We were both booked to do a charity concert in Memphis for the AIDS awareness foundation. On show night there we both were, two bands on one stage. We compromised and did the concert together. They liked what they heard and saw, I guess. We worked well together.” She replied, and Alex was visibly relieved at her handling of the question.

“Indeed.” Peggy commented, looking down at her notebook while she asked the next question. “One member in particular, I understand, liked what he saw.” She said, Cat’s eyebrows drawing together as she anticipated what was coming. “You’re actually dating a member of U2, aren’t you?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cat asked through her teeth. She was trying to stay collected, but this was a particularly sore subject. “We’re here because they believe in us as musicians and entertainers.” She added.

“Of course. And the crowd here absolutely loved you.” Peggy replied. “We’re just all curious to know what the truth is regarding your romantic status. According to one newspaper you and Bono have been seen painting the town together.” She informed her, handing her the newspaper which had a photo of them with their arms around each other, Bono kissing her forehead.

“This was at another interview, actually.” Cat said coolly.

“Another source indicates that you yourself have admitted you were seeing another member of the band. Larry Mullen Jr., U2’s drummer.” She pressed on, and Alex snorted in surprise, Shane letting out a hoot of laughter at the prospect.

“Look, I’ve already told you we’re here because we can entertain the audience. Any other relationship is totally separate.” Cat told her hotly.

“Obviously this is an uncomfortable subject for you.” Peggy said, “We just wanted to give you the opportunity to clear up the rumors. Different sources have linked you to almost every member of the band romantically. Bono, Larry, Edge… people are always interested in their private lives. If you don’t want to confirm or deny anything, we’ll move on.”

Cat’s face was turning red, her temper barely concealed. Shane’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, finding it hilarious that the only member of the band who she had not been rumored to be seeing was in fact, the one she was involved with.

“How long have you been together as a band?” the cold woman asked, and Cat let Alex and Krash handle the questions for the remainder of the interview, afraid she would lose her temper if she tried to speak again. It was not only no one’s business what she did privately, it had nothing to do with the band. They were supposed to be building a career on the foundation of their work, not because of gossip and social games.
 
yay! Stupid reporter...you just want to kick them sometimes. *glares in their general direction* Poor Angel, that would suck having your fiancee die, I hope Bono can kiss it better. ;)
 
In the span of about a day I read all of the story leading up to this and all of these chapters. I love it!!! Can't wait for more!
 
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