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Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year
Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,137 Views)
maisy blue
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Some Kind Of Monster
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I love that Cec can smoke pot before she can curse :wink

Great chapter- the flashback was SO well written and I had no problem imagining a little girl in her nightgown staring at her parents through a glass door.

I do hope they can be a family again. Mrs. Fitzgerald is one toxic person

:skull :bat :gah :puke: Maybe Cliff can 'accidently' get her high so she can chill a little bit.

Poor Evan, though, having to grow up with that woman. But that means he has to have some of it in his own blood, you know?

GOOOOOOOD MOOOOORE PLEEEEEASE
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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I'm very much thrilled with everybody's comments. Thank you so so so very very much.

I wrote this part very late last night. Sorry for any typo errors. :dance


Chapter 105


Emily had cried until she had absolutely no tears left to cry anymore. She brushed her hair out of her face. The very ends of her hair were wet from all the tears. Her nose was red and swollen from crying. She wiped her nose and looked about the room. She was sitting on the very edge of the bed and she was alone.

Cliff had taken her back to his hotel room. Emily didn’t remember much because she had did nothing but cry and bitch about Mrs. Fitzgerald for the entire time. She had called her every nasty name in the book, and had even made Cliff blush a couple of times. At some point Cliff had left the room, but Emily had been too upset to pay much attention to him.

“I wonder if I can find anything to drink in here?” she wondered out loud as she stood up from the bed. “What a silly question. I’m in Cliff Burton’s room. Of course there’s got to be booze in here somewhere.”

She decided to check the bathroom. She knew that from her days of rutting around with Metallica that a popular place for them to stash booze was in the bathtub, filled with cold water. It worked better than an ice chest for keeping beer cold. Sure enough there were three bottles of Belgian beer, and a bottle of cheap pinot grigio staring happily back at her. She plucked the bottle of pinot grigio from the bathtub, and wandered back into the room. She needed a corkscrew. She knew that Cliff always kept one tucked away in his suitcase along with razor blades, a scalpel, a level, a rolling pin, a package of soap leaves, and a sledgehammer. However on this particular night those weren’t the only random things that she found in Cliff’s suitcase. She lifted a small picture frame that had been carefully wrapped up in a Blue Oyster Cult T-shirt.

“That’s me!” she gasped as she looked at the picture. She also found the little heart keychain that she had given him years ago. She lifted it out of the suitcase as well. “Ah fuck,” she sighed as she let the keychain dangle in midair. “I bet the only reason that he totes it around with him is because he just needs something to keep his keys on.” However, there weren’t any keys on the chain, and what was up with the picture? She didn’t have much time to ponder over it.

Just then the door to the room opened. Emily dropped the picture and keychain back into the suitcase at once, but she was a little late. Anyone with a quarter of a brain could tell that she had been snooping through it. Cliff came through the door. He was holding two paper coffee cups in his hands.

“What are you doing going through my shit?” he asked as he frowned at her.

“I was looking for a corkscrew,” replied Emily innocently. She gestured to the bottle of wine that she was holding.

“Oh,” said Cliff. “Well I brought you some tea.”

He handed one of the cups that he was holding to her. Emily knew that tonight she would need something much stronger than tea to ease her upset, but she thanked him for the tea and took a sip. It was English breakfast, her favorite. She noticed that Cliff also had a cup of tea.

“Hey, you don’t drink tea,” she commented.

“You’re right,” Cliff replied. “I don’t. This isn’t tea.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Heineken,” Cliff answered. “I just had them put it in a tea cup so that I could be more like you.”

Emily didn’t say anything. She sat back down on the bed and took another slow sip of her tea.

“You’re not in the mood for tea tonight,” observed Cliff. He went over to his suitcase and fished out the corkscrew. “Hand me that bottle of wine,” he said.

Emily handed it to him.

“Did you have fun going through my suitcase?” Cliff asked as he opened the bottle.

“I didn’t see anything,” said Emily.

“Bullshit!” Cliff snapped as he emptied her tea and poured the pinot grigio into her teacup. “I might be drunk right now, but I’m not brain dead. I know that you saw that picture of yourself.”

“Why do you even have it with you?” Emily asked sheepishly.

“I’ve always traveled with a picture of you,” answered Cliff. He finished off his beer, and then went to retrieve another one out of the bathroom.

“Why?” asked Emily. “Why would you travel around with my picture?”

Cliff opened his beer, lit a cigarette, and shrugged. “You have nice titties,” he said matter-of-factly. He watched as Emily went to pour herself another cup of wine. He pulled the bottle away from her. “You better slow it down,” he scolded. “You’ve been drinking all day.”

“And you haven’t?” Emily snapped.

“Yeah, but I’m used to drinking all day long,” replied Cliff. “You’re not.”

“And how do you know that?” Emily challenged as she pulled the bottle of wine back towards her.

“Pussy Cat,” said Cliff. “You were fucking obliterated after only one drink. You used to be able to pound three of four before you even got a little bit loopy.”

Emily scowled at him.

“It’s that infernal woman,” she said finally. “She’ll not only drive me to drink, but she’ll also drive me to my death. She’s ruined my whole wedding.”

“Just fucking tell everyone to fuck it,” said Cliff. “Cancel the wedding, and then go elope with Evan next week sometime.”

“I would cancel the wedding, but I really can’t,” Emily sighed, her tears coming back. “Evan would never forgive me, and neither would my family either. They’ve already had enough “false alarm” weddings with me. They’ve spent a ton of money on everything for this wedding. That dress shop is trying to get my wedding dress in on time. It would be very rude of me to back out now.”

She was now again in full blown tears. Cliff sighed, and gave her some more wine. He put his arm around her.

“It’s just one fucking day,” he told her as she wept. “One, measly, shit forsaking day, and then it’s over. You have the entire rest of your life to enjoy yourself with Evan. Give his piss ant mother one fucking day, and then tell her to fuck off. Then enjoy the rest of your time with Evan.”

“That’s so sweet of you Cliff,” Emily sobbed. “But you don’t understand. She won’t “fuck off.” She’s like the plague. She’ll dictate everything from what kind of homes Evan and I will buy together, to which child we’ll adopt, and I don’t like how she’s trying to cut Cecily out of everything! I hate her! I really do!”

“Well ain’t she old?” Cliff asked. He gave Emily a hug, holding her there in his arms. “She’s bound to be pushing up daisies soon.”

“She’s not that old Cliff,” said Emily. “She needs to learn to cut the cord, or else she’s going to chase every woman that loves her son away. She’s already chased me away.”

“Don’t talk like that Pussy Cat,” Cliff said. Unlike Kirk, he didn’t have a fabulous, monogrammed, silk, handkerchief to whip out of his pocket, so he had to use the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away Emily’s tears. Once he had wiped them away, with his finger he lifted her chin so that she had to look up at him.
“Don’t let some dried, dusted up, cooter run your life or destroy your happiness,” he said. “If anyone deserves to finally be happy it’s you Pussy Cat. Evan loves you and he treats you like a lady. You’re going to have a fabulous life with him.”

“Oh I will,” Emily agreed. “But it will be a formal and predictable life.”

“That’s not so bad,” said Cliff. “Predictable is stable.”

“Predictable is boring,” shot Emily. “I’m not some aristocrat. I’ll never fit in with the Fitzgeralds.”

“You never thought that you’d fit in with Metallica at first but you sure as hell did,” Cliff reminded her. “Each and every one of us was all over you.”

“That’s because I have nice tits supposedly,” Emily retorted.

“You do,” Cliff vouched.

“It was just easier being metal,” Emily sighed. She leaned back into the bed pillows. “If I wanted to wear the same fucking shirt for two days in a row non of you guys ever gave a shit,” she said. “Evan’s world is just so formal at all times. They never let their hair down. It’s such a shame because no offense Cliff, but Evan is the sweetest, kindest, and most caring man that I’ve ever been with.”

“None taken,” replied Cliff. “I was never out to be kind and sweet. If you want kind and sweet you got to go see Kirk.”

“I did,” shot Emily sardonically.

Cliff just looked at her. The two were silent for a few moments. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Emily banging Kirk. He still didn’t know why, but he thought that it was mighty hot and sexy. He crawled over the bed to be closer to her, and leaned in to start kissing her. He was expecting to get smacked across the face again, but he didn’t care. Emily never could hit very hard anyway. However to his surprise and delight, she actually kissed him back. Not only did she kiss him back, but she did it quite passionately.

Things began to heat up as he cupped her breasts and squeezed them yearningly. They felt incredible, except her annoying light blue dress kept getting in his way. It just had to come off. He reached around to her back. He always had liked her back too. It was nice and smooth, and very familiar to him. It was like home. He knew ever little nook, cranny, and mole that were on her back, for he had ran his hands up and down it and had caressed it in the throws of passion many, many, times. As he was feeling around for the dress’s zipper, Emily whispered into his ear

“When I want kind and sweet I go to Kirk. When I want fun, spontaneous, and unpredictable, I go to you Cliff.”

By now Cliff had ripped off her light blue sundress and had hastily tossed it aside, where it actually landed on top of the bottle of pinot grigio, knocking it over, and sending wine spilling out onto the carpet.

“Oh no!” Emily gasped.

“Fuck it,” said Cliff as he hoisted her right on top of him. He undid her bra with one hand, keeping the other one wrapped around her tightly. He slid the bra off and held Emily close as he kissed her. He had been with her for so long that he was easily able to memorize the very “feel” of her whenever she was in his arms, and she had always fit right in them perfectly. It felt so fucking good to be holding her again. Nothing in the world mattered. He could die right then and there with her in his arms and be happy.

Emily had been working on practically sucking the skin right off of Cliff’s neck. She stopped for a moment and hovered her mouth right over his. He could feel the warmness of her breath drifting down to his face.

“I love you,” she whispered, and then she pressed her mouth to his.

Cliff pushed her away immediately. “Pussy Cat we need to stop,” he said at once as he sat up.

“What?” asked a confused Emily, a look of hurt appearing on her face. “Do you not like it?”

“I like it too much,” Cliff answered. He groped around the bedside table for his cigarettes,

“Then why’d you stop?” asked Emily as she drew the covers around her naked self.

“We were going out of control Pussy Cat, and I just can’t do that to you,” said Cliff. “It awakened too many old feelings. You even told me that you love me.”

“It’s the truth,” Emily admitted. “But I only said that because I know that you feel the same way about me. I found my picture and the keychain that I got for you in your suitcase. The picture doesn’t lie Cliff. You wouldn’t tote it around with you if you didn’t still love me.”

Cliff looked up from lighting his cigarette, the smoke lazily dancing in between them as if it had all the time in the world. Emily looked hot as all-fuck wrapped up in that bed sheet with her hair hanging down all wild. He could smell the sexy scent of wine on her breath.

“Please Cliff,” Emily said quietly. “Couldn’t we be together one last time? I don’t even remember the last time that we made love, probably because at the time I didn’t know that it was going to be the last time. Let’s do it one very last time, just for old time sake.” She started to crawl towards him, but Cliff stopped her.

“No,” he said firmly.

“Don’t you want me?” Emily asked.

“Of course I do!” Cliff replied. “I’d love to do you one last time, and go out with a bang, but I just can’t. It just ain’t right. You’re going to be a married lady day after tomorrow. Evan’s an okay dude. His mother is a cunt, but that ain’t his fault. I can tell by the way that he looks at you that he’s deeply in love with you Pussy Cat. You’re going to go on to have a beautiful life with him.”

“I’m not married to him yet,” said Emily. “Since when did you get so conscientious about doing a married woman anyway? You guys used to love trying to find a married woman to go out and screw. I think it was Lars who said that it was much more scandalous and exciting.”

Cliff took Emily into his arms and held her close. “If we make love here tonight you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life,” he said as he stroked her hair. “All that it’s going to accomplish is leaving you very conflicted and confused. You’ve had enough shit ruin your big wedding day already. You don’t need your ex ruining it for you as well. Does that make any sense?”

“It does Cliff,” Emily nodded. “It makes a lot of sense actually, and I really do appreciate you being the voice of reason.”

“Smoking weed hasn’t killed all of my brain cells,” joked Cliff. “At least not yet it hasn’t.” He grounded out his cigarette, and leaned back into the pillows taking Emily back with him. “What we can do,” he said. “Is just be together. It’s already really late, and it would be silly for you to get another hotel room at this hour. We can just be here together. I’ll hold you through the night. Would you like that?”

“I would like that very much,” nodded Emily as she snuggled down right next to him.
“The one thing that doesn’t make any sense is why are you suddenly being so concerned about my feelings?” she asked. “The Cliff that I know would have fucked my brains out in a heartbeat, no matter how shitty it would have left me feeling the next day.”

“I’m concerned because you’re right Pussy Cat,” answered Cliff as he held her. “The fact that I carry around your picture and that keychain with me doesn’t lie. I do still love you. Very much….”
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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That was a sweet chapter, Ashley :P Cliff and Emily are perfect for each other, but they're so damn stubborn :( And I've said it again, Mrs. Fitzgerald is a cunt :angry And she's going to ruin her son's marriage. Maybe Cliff ought to take a page out of The Graduate and show up at the wedding and carry her off :wink
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maisy blue
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Quote:
 
She knew that Cliff always kept one tucked away in his suitcase along with razor blades, a scalpel, a level, a rolling pin, a package of soap leaves, and a sledgehammer.


Hahahahaha. That's awesome! Sounds like what Maddy would have in her bag.

I love English Breakfast, too. And I love that Cliff had the photo and the keychain.

Okay, so this was an awesome chapter. Not that your writing wasn't perfect to begin with, but I love the depth of the characters lately. fabulous!


:heart: :heart:
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Vanessa- I have never seen the Graduate. Sounds like I need to check it out though. :dance And yeah, Mrs. Fitzgerald is a cunt. :dance

Maisy- English Breakfast is good stuff. I'm glad that you like how Cliff packs a suitcase. I read somewhere where Kirk said he always traveled with a hammer, so I just exaggerated things bit. Okay a lot. :lol:


Chapter 106

Evan was feeling much better about life as he pulled in the driveway. All of the anger and anxiety that he had been feeling earlier had vanished. Doing nice things for Emily did that to him. It always made him feel better. He had been very busy trying to arrange another romantic evening for Emily. After all, it would be their last night together as not husband and wife. He wanted it to be special, and something that they would always remember.

Not only did he reserve a table at The Ivy restaurant, but he had also arranged to have a glorious bouquet of flowers delivered to their table, along with a bottle of Cristal champagne.

He entered the house only to find it very quiet. No one was downstairs, and Queen Victoria didn’t run to the door to greet him. Something weird was going on.

“Is anybody home?” he called out. It was eleven-thirty at night. Surely Emily had to be back by now, unless she had gone off to her parents’ house for the night which was possible.

Cecily came out of her room, and stood at the top of the stairs. Evan could tell that she had been crying. Oh no! he thought. I made the little girl cry.

“Cecily,” he began as he cleared his throat. “I need to have a word with you for a minute.”

Cecily began to play with a strand of her hair as she marched down the stairs. He’s going to demand that I go back home tomorrow, she thought. I’ll never get to see Emily again.

She made it to the foot of the stairs, and stood in front of him. Evan was so much taller than she was. She felt little and very immature standing near him. “Are you going to send me away?” she asked.

“What?” Evan squawked, making a face. “Of course not. Why on earth would I send you away?”

“Because I fucked everything up,” said Cecily. “It’s my fault that my dad is here.”

“Oh Cecily I’m not worried about your dad,” Evan replied, trying to sound confident, because in truth he was rather worried about Cliff whisking Emily off away somewhere. “Emily loves me and I love her more than anything,” Evan went on. “That’s all that we need.” He tugged on one of Cecily’s curls. “I’m sorry for screaming at you earlier this evening,” he said. “I had no business badmouthing your dad like that. I’m sure that he’s a wonderful person. Anyone who takes in a fatherless little girl can’t be that bad. I’m just all worked up right now. Perhaps its just wedding jitters.”

“So is Miss Emily,” said Cecily. “She got really upset over the seating the arrangements.”

“Why?” Evan asked. “I haven’t seen them yet?”

Just as he was reaching out to give Cecily a hug, Mrs. Fitzgerald stepped into the parlor. She had already changed into her nightgown for bed. She looked like a looming, gloomy, old, bat in her silver silk nightshift.

“There you are Evan dear,” she commented as she went to give her son a hug, pushing Cecily right out of the way in the process. “Where were you for so long?”

“Just doing a little something for Emily,” Evan sneakily replied. “I want to give her a romantic night that she’ll always remember. I’m taking her for dinner at The Ivy tomorrow night. ”

Mrs. Fitzgerald frowned. “If you can pull her away from that disgusting bum boyfriend of hers,” she muttered.

“Mum, there’s nothing going on between Emily and Cliff,” replied Evan. “They have a completely platonic relationship. And what’s this about Emily being upset over the seating arrangements?” demanded Evan. “You didn’t make a head table did you?”

“Evan, I’m trying to make a nice, traditional, wedding for you,” responded his mother. “Now for the past week, I haven’t had any help from you nor Emily. You’ve been too busy off gallivanting around with her!” she pointed at Cecily.

“Leave Cess out of this,” said Evan. “She’s just a kid. She’s confused.”

“That’s beside the point Evan!” snapped Mrs. Fitzgerald. “The point is I’ve had next to no help arranging this wedding, except for that little blonde haired ditz brain of Cliff’s, who has the commonsense of a flea.”

“Cheyenne is not a ditz!” yelled Evan. “She’s actually a very beautiful person, inside and out.”

Both Mrs. Fitzgerald and Cecily raised their eyebrows. Evan had really come to Cheyenne’s defense. It was quite unexpected.

“She’s a whore Evan,” said Mrs. Fitzgerald.

“She is not!” defended Evan. “Her dream is to go to beauty school and do hair.”

“Really?” Cecily asked. She played with one of the frizzy curls that framed her face. “Maybe I can get her to do my hair.”

“And how do you know this?” his mother asked, scowling at Cecily.

“We’re friends,” Evan answered with a shrug. “Cheyenne and I have gotten to be good friends while Cecily was missing. Someday she wants her own beauty shop, and I think she’ll very well have one.”

Mrs. Fitzgerald was not the least bit happy over her son’s new friendship with Metallica’s premier fuck buddy. Emily’s trashiness must have been wearing off on her son too.

“I don’t want there to be a head table,” Evan went on. “Please respect our wishes. If you want, I’ll even redo the seating arrangements.”

“If I were you Evan, I would spend less of my time worrying about the seating arrangements, and more time worrying about your wife-to-be who conveniently isn’t around tonight,” said Mrs. Fitzgerald coyly.

“She doesn’t need to be here,” replied Evan.

“Maybe not because she is quite useless,” his mother returned. “But I just think that it’s rather interesting how she left here with that lowlife boyfriend of hers, and stuck you with looking after their brat for the night!” She gave Cecily a cool smirk, and then quickly kissed Evan on the cheek, before making her way off to bed.

Evan and Cecily stood there in silence for a few minutes. Cecily had never felt so uncomfortable in her life. A few weeks ago, she would have been ecstatic that her parents were running around together, but now she could see how much having her father around was hurting Evan.

“Is Emily really with your dad right now?” Evan asked finally, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” answered Cecily. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen either of them all day.”

“I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt because I love her,” Evan replied as he made his way towards the stairs. “I don’t care what Mum says. I love her, and I’m going to be marrying her day after tomorrow.” He stopped halfway up the stairs. “You should get some rest too Cecily,” he said. “You’re going to have a busy day tomorrow helping me with my wedding speech.”

“You still want my help?” Cecily asked.

Evan nodded. “Absolutely,” he replied. “I want it to be the best, so that means that I have to go to the masters.”

“I’m hardly a master when it comes to love,” Cecily laughed. “Mr. Kirk is though.”

“And he’s taught you very well,” Evan replied. “You’ll have to help me in the morning though, because the rest of the day will be quite busy. I’ll take you out for breakfast, and you can help me then. Would you like that?”

Cecily nodded, as she followed him up the stairs. It was no mystery that Mrs. Fitzgerald despised her, but at least Mr. Evan still seemed to like her. Maybe things weren’t ruined for him and Miss Emily after all.

***
Cliff awakened the next morning to the sunlight dancing through the curtains of his hotel room. He rolled over to find Emily still lying right next to him. She was on her side, curled up in fetal position, with Queen Victoria dozing right up next to her pillow. She was breathing rather very deeply. She was in a deep, deep, sleep that was typical of someone who drank way too much the night before.

She’s going to feel like ass today, Cliff thought as he watched her. If there was anybody who knew the fastest methods to curing a hangover it would be Cliff Burton. He sprang up out of bed to go searching for some coffee. Maybe he’d even bring her back a bloody Mary from the hotel bar. Those usually always did the trick. Bloody Marys had often been the nectar that got Metallica up and functioning for many of their morning interviews and appearances after a night of hard drugs, booze, and prostitutes.

He slid on his bellbottoms, selected a T-shirt off of the floor, and pulled on his shoes. Emily was in such a deep sleep that she didn’t even stir once. When he had first awakened, he had thought that he had dreamt spending the past night with Emily, but it had really happened. It was all very real, and he had her in his bed to prove it.

Ten minutes later he came back to the room with a cup of coffee and two bloody Marys. The sound of the door closing behind him woke Emily up. She stirred in the bed quietly, yawning. She had quite the blinger of a headache, but other than that she actually felt pretty, damn, good. She sat up in the bed, stretching as she did so.

“Good morning Cliff,” she greeted cheerfully.

“Morning?” Cliff snickered. He sat down on the edge of the bed and handed her the coffee. “Here drink this,” he said.

“It is morning, isn’t it?” Emily asked as she greedily took the cup of coffee.

Cliff just smiled.

Emily looked over at the bedside clock. “Holy fuck!” she screeched as she jumped out of the bed at once, forgetting about her headache. “It’s already two in the afternoon?” she squealed.

“Hey,” said Cliff. “You were tired. You needed your beauty sleep.”

“This is a disaster!” she yelped as she began to scurry about the room trying to find her sundress. Meanwhile, she was stark naked, and gave Cliff quite the show, not that he minded. “I was supposed to pick up my wedding dress at noon!” Emily shrieked as she pulled on her bra, and began to fumble with the clasp. “And then I was supposed to be at my parents’ house by one,” she went on. “I was going to take Cecily over there so that she could finally meet her English grandparents. I’m not even going to have the time to pick her up now.”

“I can take her over there for you,” Cliff offered as he hooked Emily’s bra for her. “That is, if you let me drive your car so that I can get her there, and I’m going to need directions.”

“They live like a half hour out of town,” said Emily. “It would at least take an hour of your time.”

“I don’t mind,” answered Cliff as she watched Emily shimmy into her sundress.

“Thank you Cliff,” she responded. “It would help me out immensely. I really want Cecily to meet my parents. They’ve heard so much about her for the past six years.”

Cecily wasn’t the only one who had yet to meet Emily’s parents. Cliff had never met them as well. They had scheduled several trips to go to England just to meet them, but Cliff always had some excuse not to go. Usually it was because when he was on breaks from touring, the last thing that he wanted to do was travel overseas.

“Would you mind doing me another favor too?” Emily asked as she sat down at the desk and started to draw Cliff a map to her parents’ house.

“Anything for you Pussy Cat,” responded Cliff as he downed his bloody Mary.

“Would you mind picking up my dress for me?” asked Emily. “The shop is right on your way out of town actually. I’ll give you the claim number for the dress, but Cecily knows it too. Please?”

“Yeah, sure,” Cliff answered with a shrug.

“Thank you Cliff,” said Emily as she handed him the map that she drew, along with her car keys. She gave him a quick hug and kissed him very quickly on the cheek, her hair tickling his face as she did so. “Oh yeah,” she went on. “Could you bring Queen Victoria with you when you bring Cecily over? I’d take her myself, but I’m already running late.”

“Uh Pussy Cat,” Cliff spoke up as he watched her throw on her shoes.

“Hmmm?” Emily answered.

“You have wine and champagne spilled all over that dress,” he said. “That fucking dress smells like a liquor store.”

Emily ran to the full length mirror that was in the bathroom. Her beautiful sundress from Evan was practically ruined from the champagne from tea, and then the bottle of wine from last night. Actually, she looked quite terrible. Her hair was a mess, and she had no makeup or anything to put on. She had left so suddenly last night that she didn’t pack an overnight bag. She couldn’t go out in public with red wine spilled down the front of her.

“Oh fuck Cliff!” she gasped. “What am I going to do?”

“Borrow some of Cheyenne’s clothes,” Cliff suggested, gesturing towards Cheyenne’s suitcase. “You two are about the same size.”

“She’s taller than me,” Emily whined. “Her pants would drag on the floor.”

“Roll ‘em up,” said Cliff. He threw a pair of bedazzled jeans at her since it seemed like everything in Cheyenne’s wardrobe had been bedazzled at some point.

“I feel weird wearing your girlfriend’s clothes,” Emily admitted as she shimmied into the jeans, which were way too long for her.

“Cheyenne isn’t my girlfriend,” Cliff said. He searched through Cheyenne’s suitcase and frowned. “I’m sorry Pussy Cat, but Cheyenne doesn’t have one shirt that isn’t a Metallica shirt. You probably wouldn’t want to wear a Metallica shirt. It might be weird.”

“Shall I go to my parents’ house in my bra?” Emily asked.

“I sure wouldn’t mind,” Cliff replied as he gazed at her. Her bra was mint green satin, and it looked fabulous up against her fair skin. He loved it when women paraded around in nothing but a bra and a pair of jeans.

“Cliff,” said Emily. “I can’t go to my parent’s house in nothing but my bra.”

“Won’t they think it’s weird that you’re wearing your ex boyfriend’s ex band’s shirt?” Cliff asked.

“It’s better than going naked,” Emily shrugged.

“Here,” Cliff said quickly, an idea coming to mind. He fished a Misfits shirt out of his own suitcase and handed it to her. “Wear this.”

“This would be like a dress on me,” Emily commented as she looked at the shirt. “It’s way too big.”

“Just tuck it in,” said Cliff as he helped her roll up the legs to her jeans, so that they didn’t drag on the floor.

“They’ll still know that it’s not my shirt,” replied Emily as she tucked the shirt in. It was very long on her, and went all the way down past her ass.

“Tell them it’s Evan’s,” Cliff suggested.

“Oh yes,” Emily shot sarcastically. “They’ll definitely believe that, because Evan just loves the Misfits.”

She frowned at herself in the mirror as she hastily threw her hair in a ponytail. She looked absolutely ridiculous, but she didn’t have time to fuck around. She grabbed her purse and hurried towards the door.

“Oh Cliff,” she said one last time.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said with a nod before she vanished.

Cliff sighed and threw himself down onto bed right next to where a confused Queen Victoria was sitting, watching everything.

“What’s your problem?” Cliff snapped at the dog. Queen Victoria just stared at him with her big, chestnut, eyes. Actually, her problem was that it was two in the afternoon, and she hadn’t been to the bathroom yet that day. Humans could be so stupid.

“Yeah, I know,” Cliff sighed as she gave the dog’s head a pat. “Your mommy looks very good naked. Doesn’t she?”
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Wow, Cliff is really growing up :o . I couldn't believe he didn't take advantage from Emily. But that was great of him and very sweet :cloud9 And when he said he still loves her :wub: They're so perfect for each other... Why they can't be together??!! :gah :lol: I know, it's Evan, he's very sweet too :( But his mother is a monster!!! :angry
"Cliff looked up from lighting his cigarette, the smoke lazily dancing in between them as if it had all the time in the world." that bit was brilliant!
And I'm full of worries about Emily's dress... :lol:
damn... That story rocks!!! :heart: :horns2
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Oh Crap :( Wow, it looks like Cliff is finally growing up :P And boy, does Mrs. Fitzgerald need to go fuck herself. Between her and Clarisse, they double the cunt :angry
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Maggie- There's going to be plenty more of Emily's fabulous dress coming soon. :wink

Vanessa- There is birthday cake mentioned in this chapter. You can pretend that it's for you. :P

this chapter doesn't really move the story along much. Sorry bout that.


Chapter 107


Cliff Burton made his way up the walk to Emily’s house, holding Queen Victoria in his arms since he didn’t have a leash for the dog. He was very thankful that James and Lars weren’t around to see him. They would have kicked his ass. He knew that he was certainly attracting stares as he marched down the street. A longhaired dude wearing bellbottoms, an ugly suede jacket, and a cowboy hat would attract attention in general, but put a six pound lap dog in his arms, and you had someone ready for the county freak show.

Queen Victoria chewed on a strand of Cliff’s hair. “Knock it off!” Cliff commanded to the dog. With a sigh, he rang the doorbell. He was sure that Evan and Mrs. Fitzgerald were going to be thrilled about the fact that he was gracing them with his presence. Evan answered the door. He looked Spartan and fresh, his face practically glowing with pristine cleanliness. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, but unlike Cliff’s jeans they didn’t have holes in them, nor did they look like they came out of 1972. They were even fucking pressed for heaven’s sake. Cliff had never ironed his jeans in his life. Ironing jeans was just wrong. A starched, crystal blue, button down shirt with fabulous white French cuffs was very neatly tucked into his jeans, and brown loafers completed his ensemble.

“Hello Cliff,” Evan greeted. He flashed him a toothy grin, which showcased his ascetically white teeth. Evan’s teeth weren’t discolored from beer and cigarettes like Cliff’s were. “What brings you here?” he asked.

“I’ve come to pick up my daughter,” Cliff answered coolly. “I’m supposed to take her to her grandparents’ house.”

Evan nodded, and turned towards the inside of the town home. “Cecily!” he bellowed. “Your dad is here!” He turned back around and faced Cliff. He eyed him up and down. “Nice jacket,” he commented.

“Really?” Cliff returned.

“Yes,” replied Evan. “Wherever did you get it?”

Cliff lowered his voice to a whisper, as if he was dispersing top secret official information. “It was handmade by the Ojibwa Indians,” he said importantly. “Real Ojibwa Indians from Canada.”

At that moment, Queen Victoria squeaked. Evan noticed the dog that was nestled right in Cliff’s snazzy jacket. His heart sank. What the fuck was Cliff doing with Emily’s dog? Evan had just assumed that Emily had fled to her parents’ house last night, but she certainly would have taken Queen Victoria with her. The fact that Cliff had the dog dispelled this option. She wouldn’t have of? Would she?

“Hello Daddy!” Cecily cried as she slid to the front door, her socks gliding across the wood floor. She slid right into Cliff, throwing her arms around his waist. “You have Queen Victoria too!” she announced.

“Hey Angelfuck!” Cliff said cheerfully as he rumpled Cecily’s hair. “Yeah, I’m on dog sitting duty for your mom.” He gave Evan a glance out of the corner of his eye. Evan was frowning. Oh well. That was his fucking problem. It wasn’t Cliff’s fault that Emily had turned to him in her time of need.

Cecily took Queen Victoria from him and held her up in midair. She began to make kissing noises at the dog. Queen Victoria immediately began to lick Cecily’s face. It was quite evident that the dog adored Cecily.

“Oh Daddy,” she sighed. “Can’t we get a little dog when we get back to San Francisco?” she asked. “Please?”

“I don’t think that Geezer would like that very much,” Cliff responded as he watched the two. “He’d probably eat it.”

“He most certainly would not!” exclaimed Cecily. “Geezer’s too much of a sweetheart. I do adore Geezer, but a little dog I could take anywhere with me. Mr. Kirk says that little dogs are always the best. Why I could even take her to school with me in my backpack.”

“You will do no such thing Cecily Virginia!” Cliff laughed. “You’d get your ass kicked.”
He lovingly tugged on one of her bouncy curls. “I’ve come to pick you up to take you over to your grandparents’ house,” he said.

“My English grandparents?” Cecily asked.

“Well I ain’t driving you back to California today so that you can see your American grandparents,” replied Cliff. “Your mom is already there waiting for you. She wants you to spend the night.”

“I’ve never met my English grandparents before,” Cecily gasped.

“They’ll adore you Cecily,” Evan said kindly.

Cecily turned to Evan. “Is it alright if I go?” she asked. “Do you think that you have the speech down?”

“I hope so, God willing,” Evan replied. “I can rehearse by myself this afternoon. If I get stuck I can always call Kirk.” He turned to Cliff. “Cecily has been helping me all morning prepare for the speech that I’m going to give to Emily tomorrow.”

“Mr. Evan even took me out for pancakes,” Cecily added happily.

“Is that so?” Cliff responded, not amused, and immediately feeling pangs of jealousy. “You better get ready to go Angelfuck,” he went on. He looked her over. She was wearing a black and purple Misfits T-shirt that he had bought for her. As proud as it made him, he was pretty sure that Emily would want Cecily dressed appropriately for her first meeting with her English grandparents. He also knew that he probably wasn’t too popular with Emily’s parents. Lord only knew what all she had told them. They probably knew about the strippers in Tulsa for sure. One thing that he did want to prove to them was that he took pride in his daughter, and that he knew how to raise her right.

“Cess,” he began. “As much as I do love the Misfits, I must regretfully say that you’re going to have to change your clothes. Put something pretty and girly on.”

“Yes Daddy,” answered Cecily. “I’ll wear my lilac dress since you barely got to see me in it yesterday.”

“And make sure to pack your overnight shit,” Cliff reminded her. “And grab your bride’s maid dress for tomorrow.”

“Am I really staying the night?” Cecily wondered aloud.

“I know that Emily was planning on spending the night before the wedding at her parents’ place,” said Evan. “However, she is spending the evening with me. I have a very special dinner planned for her tonight.”

“You’re going to give her that beautiful necklace aren’t you?” said Cecily.

Evan nodded. “I’m picking her up around seven.”

“Well in that case,” said Cliff as he turned to Cecily. “You know what day it is tomorrow, don’t you?” he asked.

“It’s my mother’s wedding day,” replied Cecily.

“And?” said Cliff.

“Geezer Butler’s birthday!” Cecily answered with a smile.

“Right-o Angelfuck,” said Cliff. “I’ll tell you what. Since your mom is going to busy tonight, how about I come over later and we’ll bake Sir Geezer a birthday cake?”

“Oh I would like that very much,” Cecily returned. “Are we actually going to give it to Sir Geezer though?”

“We could,” Cliff said thoughtfully. “We’d just have to figure out where the motherfucker lives.” He turned to Evan. “You by any chance know where Geezer Butler lives?” he asked.

Evan shook his head. He wasn’t even quite sure what a Geezer Butler was let alone where he lives.

“Well,” said Cliff as he kissed the top of Cecily’s head. “If we can’t find out where he lives, we could always just eat the cake ourselves.”

Cecily laughed. During her time in England, she had missed her crazy father. She pulled him over so that she could give him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re the best dad in the entire world!” she cried as she dumped Queen Victoria back into his arms. Then she bolted up the stairs to get ready to go.

“She loves you so much,” Evan commented once Cecily had gone upstairs. “You’re so good with her.”

“I try my best,” Cliff murmured. “I love her so much. I fucking don’t know what I’d do without her. Actually, I don’t even know how I got along without her for twenty-three years.”

“I can’t wait for Emily and me to adopt a daughter of our own,” said Evan. “Hopefully she’ll be as sweet and polite as Cecily. You did a really good job bringing her up.”

“Really?” Cliff asked. He had to admit that he was quite surprised to hear this coming from Evan, since Cecily had pulled such a dramatic stunt as go missing to try and get her mother back with him instead. Evan was definitely pretty “chill” about things.

“She’s a great girl Cliff,” Evan went on. “You did well with her.”

“Thank you,” Cliff replied, feeling damn good about him self.

“Here I am!” yelled Cecily as she came bounding down the stairs with her overnight bag, and a mound of peachy apricot satin in her arms. She was dressed in her lovely, lilac, dress. Her hair had been neatly brushed, her curls were held back with a lilac colored headband.

“You look fucking amazing Cess,” Cliff nodded in approval. “Prettier than the Lady of Shalott herself.”

Now Emily won’t kick my ass he thought as he took Cecily’s bride’s maid dress and overnight bag for her.

Cliff drove slowly, being extra cautious not to beat the shit out of Emily’s car. As soon as they were in the car Cecily asked

“How in the hell did you ever get Mom to loan you her car?”

“I gave it to her in the ass,” Cliff replied. “Just the way that she likes it.”

“Daddy!” Cecily squealed. “That’s perverse!”

“Oh it is not Cecily!” Cliff retorted. “Quit being such a prude. Your mom needed my help. She was running late and shit.” He turned into the parking lot of the bridal shop so that they could pick up Emily’s dress.

“Why was she running late?” asked Cecily. “Where were you two last night?”

“That’s none of your business,” Cliff retorted as he turned off the engine.

“Were you two together?” Cecily asked.

Cliff turned to face Cecily. He couldn’t lie to her. “Yes,” he replied finally. “We were, but it’s not changing anything. I’m not getting back together with your mother. But we’re getting along much better now. No more fighting.”

Cliff was half expecting Cecily to squeal with delight and jump into his arms, but instead she just looked down into her lap.

“What’s wrong Cess?” Cliff asked.

“Just don’t hurt her Daddy,” Cecily pleaded. “You’ve broken her heart enough times already. Please don’t hurt her again.”

“Cecily baby,” said Cliff as he took her hands. “I’ve changed. You’ve helped me change myself for the better. I never want to hurt a lady again. Trust me. Emily and I are fine now. Okay?”

Cecily nodded. The two made their way out of the car and towards the dress shop. As they approached it, Cecily couldn’t help but notice the gorgeous bridal gown that was in the window.

“Oooooh!” she gasped as she pointed. “Look at that!”

Staring back at them was a stunning dress made from organza ivory, like the color of very milky tea. The skirt was ball gown style, and gathered up in many fancy cascading layers. Around the hem of the skirt was metallic embroidery done in a pattern of roses and vines. The top of the dress was sleeveless with pearl and crystal beading, and it did have a train, but not as glorious as the ten foot train that Kirk had picked out. Still, Cecily thought that it was a dress fit for a princess.

“Daddy” she sighed as she stared dreamily at the gown. “Isn’t that dress the most wonderful thing in the entire world?”

Cliff eyed the gown. It was a pretty dress, but he didn’t know much about dresses. “Uh Cess,” he said. “Getting laid by a Puerto Rican stripper underneath an open spit is the most wonderful thing in the world,” he corrected. “That dress would be the second most wonderful thing.”

Cecily glared at him.

“You’ll try it someday, and then you’ll understand,” he teased. He sighed as he took off his cowboy hat, and placed it on top of Cecily’s curly head. “Someday Cess, I’ll buy you the most badass wedding gown ever,” he promised as he put a hand on her shoulder.

“Really Daddy?” Cecily asked.

“Any dress that you want,” responded Cliff.

“Can I have a veil too?” asked Cecily.

“Absofuckinglutely,” answered Cliff. “You can have four of them.”

“Thank you Daddy,” replied Cecily, as she gazed at her reflection in the store window. She looked mighty ridiculous in the cowboy hat, but she would keep it on. After all, it was her dad’s. “I’m surprised,” she admitted. “You’re always telling me that I can’t get married until I’m a hundred and six.”

“Well that’s just because I enjoy having you around,” Cliff answered. “I don’t want you to leave me behind. I like having my Cecily around to take care of me, and watch horror movies with, and eat waffles with.”

“Daddy,” said Cecily sincerely. “Even when I’ve been married for thirty years, I’ll still come over and watch horror movies with you.”

“Sweet,” Cliff replied. “Because by that point, I’ll probably be in the nursing home. You can mop up my drool, and empty out my piss pan for me.”

Cecily made a face.

“I’m kidding Angelfuck,” Cliff laughed as he pulled her close and tickled her.

“Stop it Daddy!” Cecily giggled. “No tickling!” She straightened the cowboy hat which had been knocked crooked on her head. “You don’t have to worry about me getting hitched for a very, very, very, very, fuckinglutely time,” she said.

“You’re not going to go off riding away with some prince anytime in the near future?” Cliff teased as he held the door to the bridal shop open for her.

“Of course not,” answered Cecily. “You want to know why?”

“Why?” asked Cliff.

“Because,” said Cecily as she trotted into the dress shop. “I love being your daughter so very much…”
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That chapter was SO sweet! So well written!

Awwww! :heart: :heart: :heart:

My favorite?
Quote:
 
He knew that he was certainly attracting stares as he marched down the street. A longhaired dude wearing bellbottoms, an ugly suede jacket, and a cowboy hat would attract attention in general, but put a six pound lap dog in his arms, and you had someone ready for the county freak show.


When I read that, I heard "Yankee Doodle Dandy" being played by Piccolos (you know the one I mean?) and Cliff literally marching down a suburban neighborhood with a tiny dog in his arms, his suede jacket, bell bottoms, and cowboy hat tipped low over his eyes. TOO FUNNY!!


:dance :nanner:

I wrote a reply to your last chapter- it got lost?! ARGH!
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Oh that is so funny! Cliff carrying Queen Victoria in his arms :lol: And that was so sweet of Evan :heart: I don't blame him for not knowing who Geezer Butler is, I doubt he listens to Black Sabbath :P
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Maisy- Your comment made me giggle. :lol: :lol: :lol: What an awesome picture. :) Now I will always think of Cliff and a lap dog whenever I hear Yankee Doodle.

Vanessa- I don't think Evan is the Black Sabbath type either. :D
Poor guy. He needs some music education.


- Again, I keep forgetting to move my plotline along and I'm sorry. I just get hung up on one idea and it starts to take over the entire chapter so I'm sorry. This is another complete and utter nonsense chapter that y'all don't have to read if you don't want to. I have no fucking idea how Barry Manilow made his way into a Metallica fanfic. Only in my stories. :rolleyes:

Anyway, the following is fluff. And it's much toooooo long again, especially for a "fluff" chapter. Arg. :blush: Sorry for the length. I hand peck at this here and there throughout the day, and often forget how long the chapters get.



Chapter 108

The bridal shop was hustling and bustling with customers being it a Thursday right before a busy weekend of weddings in July. Cliff and Cecily waited forever to get waited on. Cecily didn’t mind in the least. She could spend the entire day looking at all the beautiful, filmy veils, tiaras, crowns, and flower wreaths that the bridal shop had to offer. Cliff, on the other hand was getting a mite pissed off. For one thing, being stuck in a bridal shop was his idea of abdominal hell. He’d actually rather watch an old lady take a shit, than be stuck at the bridal shop all day. Plus, he didn’t want Emily to think that he was purposely trying to keep Cecily away from her, when she was down to the last few days that she had to spend with her. Finally, Cliff had had enough of dicking around. He marched right up to a salesclerk who was busy fitting a dress to a customer.

“I’m here to pick up a dress,” Cliff barked, annoyed.

“Is it for your self?” The salesclerk mumbled with pins shoved in between her lips.

“Of course not!” Cliff retorted. “It’s for my girlfri- I mean my friend. It’s for a friend.” He stuffed the claim ticket right in the clerk’s face.

“In case you haven’t noticed I’m very busy here,” snapped the saleslady. “You will have to wait a minute.”

“I ain’t got a minute!” Cliff shot rudely as he lit up a cigarette.

The saleslady rolled her eyes. He was that bum who had stopped by yesterday and was smoking in her store. She knew that his friend had bought one of their most expensive wedding dresses, so she couldn’t throw him out, but she could get him to leave way sooner.

“It’s in the backroom that’s behind the front counter,” she said. “You have my permission to go back there and get it. There’s a long rod with dresses hanging in red plastic dress bags. It should be hanging there right in the front.”

“Sweet,” Cliff growled as he shuffled his way to the backroom. Sure enough there were a shit load of puffy dresses all stuffed into red plastic dress bags that zipped up the front. However, only two of those bags had a return address from Paris on them. Which one of those two dresses was Emily’s? How the fuck was he supposed to know? Just then, Cecily strolled into the backroom still adorned in his cowboy hat.

“There you are Daddy,” she greeted. “Wow. I’ve never been back here before. Have you ever seen so many dresses in your entire life?” Her eyes danced as they caught the sight of a striking dress made from vibrant ruby red satin with a princess line. “Ooooh!” she shrieked. “Look at this one Daddy! It’s not even a wedding gown. Maybe I could wear it to Gastropod’s next album release party.”

“Cecily,” Cliff sighed. “I wouldn’t let you go to a Gastropod album release party if my life depended on it.”

“Why not?” Cecily argued as she drooled over the dress.

“You’d leave pregnant,” Cliff answered. “Trust me on that one.”

“You never let me do anything,” Cecily whined huffily.

“Are you not in motherfucking England right now?” Cliff shot testily as he hastily grabbed the first bulky dress bag off of the hanger. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here,” he commanded. He tugged on Cecily’s hand, pulling her away from her acid trip of ruby red satin.

They made their way back to Emily’s car, where Cliff chucked the dress into the backseat, and then he pulled out the map that Emily had made to her parents house.

“Now I want you to remember Cecily,” he said in a very adult manner as he was driving.
“Your English grandparents are going to be a whole hell of a lot different than your American grandparents.”

“Yes sir,” said Cecily.

“I know that your American Grandfather let’s you play bartender, and mix him up all kinds of crazy drinks,” Cliff said as he rudely cut through traffic, cutting the pickup truck that was behind him off. “Your English Grandfather probably isn’t going to be so generous with his liquor cabinet.”

“Yes sir,” answered Cecily as she gazed out the window.

“I know that you’ve picked up all kinds of rough vocabulary words from your American grandparents too,” Cliff went on.

“Uh Daddy,” said Cecily. “I didn’t pick those words up from my grandparents. I picked them up before I even met my grandparents. I picked them up from you and Mr. James.”

“I really don’t give a shit whom you picked them up from,” Cliff retorted as he sped up to make it through a yellow light before it changed. “Just don’t use them in front of your English grandparents okay? You’re not a whore from Thailand.”

“Yes Daddy,” Cecily nodded.

“Oh yeah, and your American Grandmother is down with you running around and having sex as long as you use protection,” said Cliff. “But your English Grandmother ain’t going to be down with that, and neither am I. You keep your legs shut, you hear?”

“Whatever you say Daddy,” Cecily sighed as she slouched down in her seat. What kind of slut does he think I am? she thought.

***

It was nearing five o’clock by the time Cliff finally pulled up in front of Emily’s parents’ home.

“Their house looks so nice,” commented Cecily as she looked at it from the car window.

“Yeah,” Cliff agreed.

A brick traditional style house was perched on a green grassy slope. The lawn was impeccably manicured, and there were beautiful, very well cared for rose bushes, that dotted the grounds that ran right in front of the house. A white archway with a gate, marked where the path leading up to the front door started. The archway was sprinkled with ivy and pink tea roses.

“It looks just like Miss Lavender’s house,” Cecily commented as she climbed out of the car.

“Who the fuck is Miss Lavender?” Cliff asked.

“Miss Lavender is a beautiful elderly lady who lives-” Cecily began.

“Never mind,” Cliff cut her off. “I don’t want to know. Actually if you ask me, it looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy’s house.”

“That’s funny Daddy,” Cecily laughed. She linked her arm in his. “Shall we?” she asked.

“No Angelfuck,” said Cliff. “I ain’t going in there. Take your shit, and call me this evening once everyone is gone. I’ll bring something for dinner and we can bake Geezer his cake.”

“But Daddy,” Cecily argued. “I can’t carry my dress, plus Mom’s dress, my overnight bag, and Queen Victoria. Won’t you help me? And I don’t want to go in there by myself. I’ve never met my English grandparents before. I’ll feel much better if you’re with me Daddy.”

Cliff looked up at the neat, happy, and rather friendly looking brick house that loomed before him. Cecily might be nervous over meeting her new grandparents, but Cliff was terrified of them. After all, he had broken their one and only daughter’s heart. He could just picture some dude Emily’s father, looming right inside the front door with a loaded shotgun.

“Daddy,” Cecily tugged on some of the deerskin fringe on Cliff’s jacket. “What’s wrong? Why won’t you go in there with me?”

“Cecily,” Cliff responded as he took a deep breath. “I fucked their daughter in the ass, and then took a giant shit on her. You do the math.”

Cecily’s eyes went wide, but she did nod in understanding. “I see,” she said. “I’m sorry Daddy. I should have thought of that.”

“I’m just as afraid of them as you are,” said Cliff. “But unlike you Princess, I have a reason to be afraid. They might kick my ass.” He opened up the back door of the car, and took Emily and Cecily’s dresses. “I’ll carry the dresses up to the front door for you,” he said. “Then I’ll make my getaway.”

Cecily nodded as she took her overnight bag and Queen Victoria. The two made their way through the little white gate and up the front walk. Cliff’s stomach formed a sickening knot which went tighter with every step that brought him closer to the front door. I will never screw another stripper for as long as I live, he vowed.

An angel must have been watching over him from above, for the front door flew open and just Emily came out from it, her arms waving wildly. Cheyenne’s jeans were much too long for her, so they dragged on the ground, and Cliff’s Misfits shirt hung from her frame like an oversized burlap sack.

“Cecily!” she cried. “You made it finally!”

“Hi Mom!” Cecily greeted as she hugged her. “The dress store was really, really, busy. It took us forever to get your dress.”

“Did you get it?” Emily asked as she gave Cecily a squeeze.

Cecily nodded. “Daddy has it,” she replied.

Cliff stumbled up the front walk holding Emily’s bulky dress bag, and Cecily’s mounds of satin. He watched as Emily made a spectacle out of herself by lavishing attention on Queen Victoria for twenty minutes. Finally he cleared his throat. He wanted to get the fuck out of there before her parents noticed him.

“You done kissing that dog’s ass yet Pussy Cat?” he asked.

Emily looked up from Queen Victoria and rolled her eyes at Cliff. “Hello Clifford,” she returned cordially. “Would you mind taking my dress up to my room for me?” she asked sweetly.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know where your room is?” Cliff snarled.

“Up the stairs, first door on the right,” said Emily. “Thank you Cliff,” she added before he could say no.

Cliff quickly scurried inside the house and the up the stairs. Hopefully he could drop the dress off and get out unnoticed. No one appeared to be upstairs. It was turning out to be Cliff’s lucky day.

He opened the first door on the right, Emily’s room. Entering a girl’s childhood room was like entering her inner soul, and her innermost thoughts. Cliff had never been in Emily’s room. He couldn’t help but look around.

The walls were papered in a cream paper that had a toile pattern on it that was done in light blue. The bed had an upholstered headboard that matched the walls. The coverlet on the bed was white and fluffy just like a cloud. Cliff couldn’t resist flopping down onto the bed for a few moments. His head hit the pillow, Emily’s pillow. He noticed a beautiful honey colored mohair teddy bear with a big pink bow around its neck. Ha, ha, he thought as he examined the bear. Emily slept with teddy bears before she started to sleep with heavy metal bassists. And Kirks. He set the bear carefully back on the bed. Oh fuck, he thought. I wonder if she’s ever screwed Evan in this bed?

Cliff jumped out of Emily’s bed at once. Instead, he began to look around the rest of the room. He noticed a bunch of picture frames over on her dresser. He recognized what must have been a twelve-year-old Emily standing next to a horse in one of the pictures.

“No shit,” he muttered as he picked up the picture to give it a closer look. She had brown hair in that picture. It was rather curly, but she had it pulled back in a tight braid. A few stubborn tendrils fell out around her face and like Cecily, she had braces. “She’s got to be Cecily’s age here,” Cliff laughed. “She was even pretty then. I wonder if that was her horse.”

Sitting on the dresser next to the picture was a big, thick, white binder with tons of little papers and fabric swatches sticking up from the pages of it. Being his nosy self, Cliff opened up the binder. Its metal binding creaking just the slightest as he did so. The binder was filled with magazine cutouts of weddings gowns, and all sorts of other fashions, dresses, and outfits. After she had gotten interested in fashion, she must have started to keep a collection of things that she liked. This must be that book that she had mentioned yesterday while in the bridal shop. Cliff got a kick out of seeing Emily’s scrawly teenage girl handwriting. Oh God. She even used to dot her i’s by making a little heart over them.

“It really does suck ass that she can’t wear her dream dress tomorrow,” Cliff sighed as he closed the binder and set it back down. “No fucking way!” he exclaimed as something caught his eye. “Not my Pussy Cat.” He made his way over towards Emily’s door that was decorated with pictures of horses and one other person.

“I’ll be fucked in the ass by god damned!” Cliff exclaimed half amused, as he examined the picture of the fellow that was tacked up on Emily’s door. “Barry fucking Manilow!" he gasped. "My Pussy Cat has a picture of Barry Manilow hanging up in her room. I’m going to have a fucking field day with this one!”

Excitedly, Cliff bounded down the stairs two at a time, forgetting that Emily’s father could be lurking about the house with a loaded shotgun at any given moment.

Emily and Cecily were congregated in the living room. Emily was showing Cecily her collection of porcelain Limoges boxes.

“Hey Pussy Cat,” Cliff said chipperly.

“What are you grinning for?” Emily shot. “You decapitate my mother’s cat or something?”

“Very funny Pussy Cat,” said Cliff. He took out his cigarettes. “Can I smoke in here?” he asked.

“Oh Daddy please quit smoking,” Cecily pleaded.

“I promise that once school starts for me in the fall, I’ll quit again Cess,” Cliff returned as he lit a cigarette. “The college professors probably won’t let me smoke in the classroom.”

“And I’m not going to allow you to smoke in my parents’ home,” said Emily as she took his cigarette away.

“If I were as sexy as Barry Manilow would you let me smoke in your parents’ house?” Cliff asked.

The tips of Emily’s ears turned pink. “Barry Manilow?” she repeated.

“Who the fuck is Barry Manilow?” a confused Cecily asked.

“You don’t need to know Cess,” Cliff answered. “This is old people shit like from me and your mom’s era. And don’t say fuck.” He turned to Emily. “So Pussy Cat,” he went on. “Which song of his is it that tickles your pussy? Is it Copacabana? I Write the Songs? I know. It’s Mandy.”

“Cliff Burton you revolting rat!” Emily shrieked.

At the sound of all the ruckus going down in the living room, Emily’s mother entered the room unnoticed.

“A rat Pussy Cat?” Cliff shrieked. “Is that the best that you can do? You can’t think of any other insults to hurl at me?”

He picked up a small bud vase to use as a microphone and began to strut about the living room singing

“Oh Mandy!” he warbled, closing his eyes and tossing his hair about (Maggie and Verity pick themselves off of the floor).

Cecily started laughing hysterically. “You missed your calling Daddy,” she chuckled. “You should have been a singer.”

“Mandyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Cliff groaned. “I need you oooooooooohhhhhhhh!”

Emily was standing with her arms folded across her chest. She was biting her bottom lip, trying to keep from laughing herself.

“He sounds like he’s trying to take a shit,” she commented to Cecily. She made her way over to Cliff and took the bud vase out of his hand. “Gee Cliff,” she said. “For someone who likes to poke fun at me for having his picture hanging up in my room, you sure do know a lot about Barry Manilow.”

Cliff’s face went completely red. “Fuck it ain’t me,” he retorted. “It’s Aunt Josephine. She made me go with her once to a Barry Manilow concert.”

“Sure Cliff,” retorted Emily. “Blame Aunt Jo. I can’t believe that you went in my room." she added.

“You fucking told me to go in there!” Cliff defended.

“You didn’t have to go snooping through my things,” said Emily.

“I didn’t,” snapped Cliff. “I can’t help it that you have a life size picture of Barry Manilow hanging on the back of your bedroom door.”

“I’ve got to check out this Barry Manilow dude,” commented Cecily. “Is he as handsome as Mr. Kirk?”

“No,” Cliff and Emily chorused together laughing. “But,” Emily added. “He’s just about as well dressed.” She shook her head at Cliff. “You probably saw that disgusting picture of me with my horse when I was Cecily’s age.”

“I did,” Cliff admitted.

“Oh God,” Emily sighed. “Now you know my natural hair color.”

“Pussy Cat,” Cliff said as he ruffled her hair. “I’ve always known your natural hair color. I’ve seen you naked. Remember?”

He began to step backwards, only he stepped back right into Emily’s mother who had been watching the entire scene quietly. He shrieked and whirled around, turning absolutely scarlet upon seeing the beautiful older lady who was standing behind him.

She had blond hair that looked to be somewhat long, but it was piled up rather messily on top of her head with a mother of pearl comb stuffed through it. She had big blue eyes, accented by a generous amount of eye makeup. She was wearing a butter colored pair of sweatpants, with a matching hooded sweatshirt, and a pair of tennis shoes. Cliff’s father had told him once as a young lad that when choosing a longtime partner or wife, to always check out how the mother looks first because that was always a good indication of how the chick would look when she got older. If this was true, then Emily was destined to be one hot and hip older babe. A cougar.

Cliff just looked at her speechless, blushing like a total pansy. The lady was closely looking him over, up and down.

“That was quite the show that you just gave us,” she commented. “Maybe you should entertain us at the reception tomorrow with your singing?” She held out her hand. “I’m Kerry, Emily’s mother. You must be the infamous Cliff Burton. Emmy has told me so much about you…”
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maisy blue
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Some Kind Of Monster
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EXCELLENT Cliffhanger (no pun intended, again)

Don't apologize for detailed scenes. I mean, if the point of the story was to keep to the plot, books would be 5 pages long. I LOVE details. They let me live in the story.

Your details are awesome.

I am off to bed- so tired, almost 2am (yikes).
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Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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Oh my gods! I have caught up with as much as I possibly can - seriously , I've been reading like a mofo here at the library - and now I have no time to comment! Can I just say that my god it is so dramatic and so awesome (just got to the bit where Cess has fallen down the stairs etc!).

This story has so many fantastic twists and turns it's amazing. i cannot wait until I really have the time to comment as this deserves - but suffice it to say you are an incredible writer, and this story rocks my socks off!

“Kirk gave you a kissing lesson?” Cliff cried. “Jesus fucking Christ! I’m going to fucking kill the bastard!”
^ And that made me laugh like a fool!
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Battery
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Hahahaha, omg, the scene with Cliff dancing and singing 'Mandy' made my day :lol: :lol: :horns2
And I loved when he was looking through Emily's room :) That was incredibly sweet and somehow moving :D And don't worry about lenght, the longer the better :nanner:
What I also loved was interaction between Evan and Cliff, especially when Evan asked about Cliff's jacket :lol: Maybe they would be able to get along quite well? :wink
And I loved Cecily in bridal shop, especially her 'acid trip of ruby red satin', hehe, she rocks!

“I’m Kerry, Emily’s mother. You must be the infamous Cliff Burton. Emmy has told me so much about you…” now that sounded dangerously :lol:

Wow, A W E S O M E chapters!!! :heart: !!!
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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OMG, Cliff singing Barry Manilow songs :lol: never saw that one coming. And naughty Cliff for looking through her stuff, bad boy :) That house sounded lovely, and I hope Emily's Mom doesn't give him any shit, then again, she just might, it'll be interesting to watch :wink
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