An Cat Dubh 31

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AnCatKatie

Rock n' Roll Doggie ALL ACCESS
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Evil, evil boys! :giggle:

The Replacements helped me write this chapter. I got 'Let It Be' today and I do say, it is quite the album...odd to write about U2 singing songs when listening to a different artist, but somehow it still works...

'I Will Follow' was what Bono was singing when he met Cath...for the second time...

And...Lardence...heheheh.

***

Cath was unimaginably relieved at how much less of a danger walking down the street had become. They walked all the way to the bar U2 would be playing at, Cath protesting that they didn’t need to drive; where in hell would they park, anyway?

The sun had sunk to rim the edges of the earth and the buildings, throwing pale fingers of faint warmth across Cath’s back. In comparison, Paul’s hand she gripped tightly was a little fire. Every few blocks or so they walked, an unsettling little ripple would waver through Cath’s stomach, and she would squeeze his hand tighter briefly. He had practically carried her out the door before she laughed and jumped out of his arms.

“So what were you doing, while I was gone?” Bono asked idly.

“Edge worked on a song. I helped him, a little.” She clenched her eyes shut again, a little warning ripple beginning, not the first.

“Paul,” she stated, and the tone of her voice made him turn his head, his eyes wide, his body rimmed briefly by the dying light.

“Edge kissed me.”

Bono clenched his teeth and looked down briefly before looking back at her again, his eyes shocked and vulnerable, all in a space of an instant. Unconsciously, he moved minutely closer to her, regaining the ground lost.

“Why? Why would he do that? Wait—”—he shook his head—“—that’s not what I meant to say. When did this happen?”

Cath shook her head. “He’s got a lot on his mind. I don’t know. But Bon—“

Yes? Sparks of light across his eyes, hurt.

“—please don’t think I caused it. I didn’t—“ She shook her head, and closed her eyes: nothing but straight road ahead of them. Paul steadied her with a hand on her back, then tentatively put his arms around her. They didn’t really reach around her lower body. He felt the little ripple when it came.

“I’m sorry, Cath, I keep forgetting,” he said quietly. He hadn’t forgotten that look she had given him the day they had met—on some level, she hadn’t trusted him, had automatically shied away from the unknown male, defiantly. He had been present in her life in very little of that time—had been its end, she said—but…it came to him staggeringly again, every once in a while.

“Why did you stay with me?” he asked, caught in that past. She probably would have been more comfortable never meeting him, and there had been that time when she was at Ali’s that she couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Silly boy,” she replied, pulling her fingers through his hair. “Because I love you.” As she kissed him, smiling, the previous little warning of a contraction faded, though her insides spun with the baby’s distraught kick.

They stayed on that streetcorner a little longer than was necessary before continuing on. Cath tugged at Paul’s hand, walking as fast she could with a sort of energy drumming throughout her; it had been a while since she actually got out and moved. The odd bittersweet feeling that had passed through her moments before slipped away.

It was very, very warm inside the bar when they entered. The lights bounced off yelling, excited faces, and trailed past them to reveal the rest of the band up on the stage. Not doing a soundcheck, though Larry rattled off a few drumrolls before smacking the drumsticks down with a frown, about as satisfied as his expressions were getting lately. Adam was red-faced and pulled a long drink from a glass of beer, shouting “Thanks, McGuinness,” to their manager who was somewhere in the distance. "Useful man," he muttered happily. "Gets us drinks!"

His eyes shone with amusement, and when he caught sight of Cath he looked surprised. “Bloody feck, Bon! You sure she should be here?”

“No-one else to driver her t’ the hospital,” Paul replied, slipping his coat off, already sweating. It really was warm in here. Cath rolled her eyes at Adam before they rested back on Bono, whose shirt was sticking to his skin above his tight pants. His face was alight with anticipation of the performance. Larry, actually, had come over and stopped frowning; actually, the boy was practically jumping up and down from excitement.

“Hey! The guy from the record company’s over there!” He pointed into the swirl of bodies.

Adam shook his head, and Larry looked past him, rolling his eyes. Cath had pulled Bono into a tight embrace, lips locked somehow despite her very pregnant stomach pushing their lower bodies apart.

Edge rose from leaning against the wall, slung his guitar onto his body, and tapped Bono on the shoulder. “You don’t want to start early labor,” he smiled apologetically.

Cath broke away and told Edge, “I think we have a while yet,” and Edge looked relieved—he had assumed otherwise and had nearly bolted away to go find his car and take it to the hospital. He drew Bono aside into a serious bit of conversation. The other man looked like he wanted to kill him, then gained an accepting expression and then became rather amused. He nodded. They both looked at Cath.

What are you planning, you two?

Bono pulled up against her briefly before the lights dimmed and blasted into brilliance, the excited expression growing on his face. And Cath was quite relieved to actually sit down; she sat where Edge had, against the wall to the back, a little to the side so she could see everyone properly, which would be impossible if she had gone past the stage.

Adam set the beer down hard and thus silenced the crowd inside. The clinking of the glass echoed tentatively throughout the room, and a little chord Edge half-strummed built upon that noise. He gave a shocked, little-boy look out to the crowd unintentionally through his eyes, closed them, and let the music rip through him, the guitar exploding darkly and triumphantly into the night. ‘An Cat Dubh’…except this time it sounded reflective. Bono looked like he had stepped out of his body and into some divine state. She couldn’t stop looking at his face.

Bono yearned through his voice and shouted his words, his singing driven but quieter, pulled together by a calmer energy tonight. Cath took note: perhaps when they weren’t angry or lost the band changed…there was a different sound coming through them tonight. At times Edge’s guitar seemed more measured, the chords reaching across to her and calming the movement within her, holding together the world.

Not yet, she willed herself. The baby gave an eager little wrestle with her body: Cath’s strength drained for a moment and she leaned hard against the wall, resurfacing as the next song began.

Monday morning,” Bono cried, grinning exultantly, “eighteen years of dawning…

I say how long!
You say how long…
” He drew his voice out into clear notes, meaning passing through him and binding them all together through the air.

The next verse passed out of Cath’s hearing, spreading to the edge of her hearing as she drifted powerfully back into awareness, shaking. She stood determinedly and sat down next to one of the amplifiers that wasn’t being used, a little sliver of the crowd bright in her vision; she squinted, and laughed when Bono gave her a little wink as he sang,

Boys and Girls
Go to the school and girls
They make children
Not like thiiiis one!


He saw her blush and stick out her tongue before he turned back to the crowd and gave himself to the song again. She sang softly beneath his voice, closing her eyes. The baby kicked and pushed at her again; her voice roughened briefly and her accent slipped back in.

I was of a feeling it was out of control
I had the opinion it was out of control…ooo—ay—oh…!


Edge looked over at her with a startled expression on his face, and grinned at Bono with not a little bit of mischief. They ended the song, the last verse running through Cath’s mind slowly…

…The choice will not be mine
Will it be too late
You can't fight it…


So she was completely unprepared for a grinning Paul Hewson to pull her magnetically onto the stage. Cath caught at his arm and tried not to look at the people.

“I was working on a new song the other day, and found that Bono’s Cath has a lovely voice,” Edge said into the microphone, smiling at her.

“Feck,” Cath hissed at him in irritation, “I’ll get you for this later, David Evans.” She barely felt like standing! The contractions were beginning to come forcefully. Not visibly yet, but it would come soon.

“So, how ‘bout it, an cat dubh?” Paul asked, pressing his body to hers, looking into her eyes in question. He smiled sideways and kissed her cheek lingeringly. “Haven’t heard you sing yet.”

She forcefully covered the microphone Edge had been speaking into and muttered something unpleasant to Paul in defeat. Edge laughed.

“Ooh boy,” Bono laughed. “Well, Edge, let’s give it a go.”

The guitar blasted across the room after Edge stopped laughing. It quite literally nearly swept Cath off her feet with a powerful energy. She looked over at Paul who stood next to her, one arm wrapped around her waist. He gave a little nod, somehow able to move—I remember too.

I was on the outside…” he began, the song rising and unfreezing Cath’s body. As Paul leaned over the microphone, the side of his face pressed warmly to hers. He was practically shaking with uncontainable energy…

When you said, you said you needed me…
I was looking at myself,
I was blind, I could not see…
” Her voice lifted high above his, holding it into a different sound. Her vocals threaded through his, the effect intoxicating. He pulled his face away about a centimeter while Edge played, and stared at her.

A boy tries hard to be a man
His mother takes him by his hand
If he stops to think he starts to cry
Oh why…


Their voices wound around each other, their gazes seeking and finding, their breath connecting in song and amplified into something neither quite understood that swept a long portion of the night into sheer blind connection.

Cath stepped away, exhausted, after the song ended, settling back where she had been. “Paul,” she told him, drawing him to the side as Edge began an instrumental piece, “can you hurry it up? I think I’ll need to go soon.”

He gave her a brief, intense embrace and jumped back to the stage, nodding to Cath.

“This is the last song,” Bono called out to the audience, his voice clear, carrying across the room. “I’m soon to be a father, and I have to get me girl to the hospital. The man from the record company will have to speak to Paul McGuiness, sorry. ”

Paul McGuinness, somewhere in the crowd, gave a great sigh and replied in assent.

“This one’s ‘Into The Heart’,” Bono said.

It was nearly impossible to concentrate on singing. He did it somehow. Thankfully it was a short song; he was going mad. He practically jumped off the stage. Edge picked Cath up, the guitar still slung across his back, and ran in the direction of the exit. Larry and Adam followed, leaving the manager to deal with the equipment. They had to squish into the shotgun seat; Paul took the backseat and let Cath lie down. Her fingers bit into his arms and she shuddered, burying her head against the fabric of his jeans.

“You know, Cath, love, you do have a glorious singing voice,” he told her. She muttered something derogative in reply and groaned.

“Ssh.” He held her, turned various interesting shades of purple and then white from the pressure she put on his arms, and yelled faintly for Edge to hurry the feck up. Larry snickered; Edge hit him.

“Shut up, Lardence.”

Edge snorted. "What a wonderful name. I think I kind of like it."

"Please don't name the kid Lardence," Bono said desperately to Cath. Her shoulders shook with laughter.

“Won’t Bon be the very image of punk coolness trying to deal with this kid,” Adam said before Larry silenced him in turn. "Just imagine..."

“That’s it, Ad,” Bono yelled. “Diaper duty for you.”

Adam thought it wisest not to point out that that would be a long way from now.

The rest of the journey passed mostly in silence, although Edge realized he hummed faintly 'Into The Heart'. The sound rippled through Cath reassuringly. She turned over and closed her eyes, trying to calm her body down.

"You know, it's pretty funny that you have 'Into The Heart' after 'An Cat Dubh,'" Edge commented to Bono.

"I wonder why?" Larry replied with a straight face.

"Lardence."

The drummer was suddenly thankful that Bono was in the backseat and thus incapable of hitting him.

"Sympathetic hormones, Bon?" Adam spoke up from his silence.

"CLAYTON—!"

It would have been great if he hit Adam, though. Bono clearly agreed.
 
Labor would have been far more pleasurable had I had U2 razzing each other around my contractions. :applaud:

Let me know if you need an expert on birthing babies for the next chapter. :cute:
 
Hehehe :) Cath's kind of getting irritated by them. Ah well, that feeling will pass.

It is REALLY REALLY ODD to be writing about someone giving birth without having done it myself...o_O (then again, I wrote about sex 'n rock and roll and Ireland and I haven't done those either ;))
 
Out Of Control was fun :) Those lyrics are so entertaining...I couldn't help it. I had to break up An Cat Dubh and Into The Heart (songs *cough* not stories) but it was worth it...

Aren't they? :heart:
 
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