Queen of Swing


Rating: PG-13, to be safe.

Summary: Set after Tell Me I Was Dreaming

'It wasn't over… it still ain't over' –The Notebook

Disclaimers: I don't own any of it. Well, technically I own Madison I guess but someone else can have her, I don't care. Marc Jacobs and all entitled belong to him. Dolce and Gabbana are fabulous but their clothes belong to them; same for Jil Sander… and Jimmy Choo, though I wouldn't mind having Jimmy Choo's stuff all to myself. I don't own the lyrics to the bsb song 'Incomplete' either.

Author's Notes: Okay, I'm sorry this story looks so crappy. I haven't posted since last July, so that is the last time I've effectively been on the site. I didn't know about all the - and 's being disabled as a scene break, so I'm sorry you have to see the ugly like that. I also didn't know that song lyrics weren't allowed without permission, so I wrote a letter to Clive Owen, who effectively owns the Back Street Boys and their songs, and laid it out like this "I have to have written permission to use the lyrics to Incomplete in a story in which I will make absolutely no money, but probably waste quite a lot." Well, Clive Owen writes back and says "Wow, that's bullcrap, but you can totally have my permission." So I anxiously told Kameka about it, and she said lolol ffn still won't care and it will be taken down. She had a great point. So, I'm making you look up the lyrics if you don't already know them.

Oh, and the band 'No Remorse' ;) ;) lololol this band was the only one I could think of cause they are British and one of my favorites so it makes sense. Anyway, Ewan Donahue/ Kristen McDonald/ No Remorse are total pseudonyms, and I think you can figure out who they really are. Here are your clues: British; Famous; New Album; Lead Singer has a Famous Wife; They just had a child named after a Fruit. If you still don't get it, then yes, No Remorse is a real band. Please look them up.

Oh yeah, if any of you have sweet hookups with these designers, ask about an endorsement. I totally am helping their business.





The loud, high pitched shriek rang throughout the small bedroom, not bothering the one standing in the door doing the screaming but waking the one still buried in her covers.

"Nebulaaaaaaaaaa," the newly-awake Zenon whined, "Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?"

Another loud drawn out squeal was her only reply. Less than a millisecond after the second scream ended, Nebula pounced on the heap of covers that still hid Zenon.

Ever since Zenon had left Proto Zoa, almost a year ago, she had yet to speak to him other than a passing glace while moving some of her things. They had discussed neither divorce; nor reconciliation, just settled into a somewhat peaceful separation. After explaining her situation to Neb, her b-f-f understood and they began looking for a two bedroom apartment to move into right away. Not long after, they found a place in the valley overlooked by Zenon's hilltop mansion. Zenon got a job in a ladies boutique in the city, the first she'd ever had. Her first month there, she was simply an associate, but soon after, her boss noticed the little sketches always present wherever Zenon was last stationed. He asked if she had a portfolio, and upon her response of 'no', he encouraged her to fashion school, offering an impromptu scholarship. The past nine months, she had gone to the best fashion school in the state.

Of all the students, Zenon showed the most promise. At their six month evaluation, the top ten percent of the class had their work showcased in a fashion gallery, a gallery that some of the world's top names in fashion attended. Ze garnered most of the attention, catching the eye of Calvin Klein, Dolce of Dolce and Gabbana, and Ralph Lauren.

A week after the fashion gallery, all the participating designers conferred with the teachers about the student's individual abilities, which helped them decide their choice for their student interns. The next Wednesday, the students received their invitations. Zenon chose to wait until she got home and asked Nebula to open it, being too nervous herself. After quickly scanning over it, Nebula's jaw dropped before emitting a loud squeal followed by an even louder "MARC JACOBS!" one of the girls' favorite designers.

It took Zenon less than two seconds to decide to take the internship, and ever since she'd spent two days a week in school, and the other 4 with Marc Jacobs' top design team. She was a quick learner, and brought a new angle to his designs, so much that he offered to let her designer a bag in his latest line independent of anyone else's influence. They were some of the best sellers the Jacobs' line had ever seen.

Between her busy new lifestyle, Zenon and Nebula still managed to stay best friends and maintain a sort of home. The most prominent thing they shared in their relationship was their love of music. Their love of music is what brought Nebula into Zenon's room in the middle of the night.

After a yawn, Zenon managed to utter, "Neb, tell me what's got you into hyperspace minus the squeals."

"Zenon, you have to be a little bit awake to hear this!" Nebula said excitedly.

Throwing the covers back from her face, Zenon sat up at an angle. "What?" She whined.

"I just won tickets, to see NO REMORSE next week, at a private premiere party for their new album!" Nebula explained quickly.

Hearing the words No Remorse and tickets in the same sentence, Zenon was awake in a split second. "CETUS LUPEDUS HOW DID YOU MANAGE THAT!" She squealed.

"I've been staying up till 3 and 4 every morning thinking that not as many people listen to Intergalactic Rock Radio around then, and I was right! I finally got through, and won! I have two tickets… think you can miss class next Thursday night?" Nebula asked, hesitantly.

"OF COURSE!" No Remorse was, by far, Zenon's favorite band. She had been to two of their concerts before, and found them to be just as thermal live as they were on TV and on microchips. "Wait Neb, you said private premiere party—does that mean we get to meet them!"

"VEGA OMEGA YES!" Nebula replied. "That's the best part… it'll only be a few people and we will be able to meet them and get autographs and stuff, of course."

"Well," Zenon said, rolling over to face Nebula. "I guess we should start deciding what we are going to wear!"


"Listen, this is the perfect opportunity. Do you know Ewan Donahue? Like, are you friends with him?" Nebula asked into her zap pad.

IT was late the next night, and rather than listening to Intergalactic Rock Radio, Nebula was on the phone with an old friend. Neb really didn't intend to meddle in things that didn't involve her, at least when it first happened, but as time went on, she couldn't help but get involved. Proto Zoa desperately wanted to make amends with Zenon, yet he didn't know how to go about it. He had called Neb late on night on her Zap Pad, unsure of what to say but knowing he had to find a way to get Ze back.

"Yeah, I know the bloke. What about him, Neb?" The confused Brit asked.

"Well, I just won tickets to their album premiere party and I can guarantee that Zenon will be there… and maybe, just maybe, you could perform that song you wrote for her, the one you mentioned to me but won't say anything else about?" Nebula suggested, a resentful edge entering her voice towards the end of her idea.

"Nebula, that's bloody brilliant!" Proto Zoa exclaimed, thrilled at his chance. He drifted to his imagination, picturing the ideal situation of Zenon taking him back with little qualms, and the two of them working out their problems together, and living happily ever after.

"Hello? PZ? HELLO!" Nebula grew frustrated with the now-silent Proto Zoa. She knew exactly what he was doing—imagining the perfect ending. Still hearing nothing, she put her mouth to the microphone on her Zap Pad and let out an ear splitting squeal, loud enough to wake the dead.

The shriek caused the desired reaction and Proto Zoa quickly snapped out of his trance and yanked the Zap Pad as far away from his ear as possible. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" He exclaimed in shock.

"Finally got your 'bloody' attention," she quipped, mocking his use of the word. "Listen, don't start to think she is just going to forgive and forget because you sing her a song."

He sighed, "Nebula, you don't know how much I miss her, and how much I really love her. I know, I know I've done wrong and I'll do anything to make it better. I've stopped drinking. I've been celibate. I've not been to any parties," He laughed bitterly. "My manager is disgusted with me for not making the tabloids and schmoozing with the TV cameras and reporters. I've not done any albums. I'm… I'm incomplete, Neb."

A bittersweet smile spread across Nebula's face, "Well, you best get on the phone then."


Thursday night came surprisingly fast for the two girls. Nebula worked Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday to earn back the money she was going to spend on an outfit. Being a substitute teacher was a difficult job, for she worked only when needed as opposed to a regular schedule with regular hours. It was intended just to tide her over while she was getting her teaching degree; her target age was elementary, and she was hoping for second grade.

Zenon went to her internship early that morning, to have adequate time to shop with Neb for their outfits for that evening. She had an idea of what she was going to wear: a nice pair of black pants with silver pinstripes on them, a silver shirt, and a matching waistcoat. Nebula asked for Zenon's help in finding her own perfect outfit, and Zenon had made it her mission of the week. She was having a hard time deciding on the ensemble, wanting something stunning but posh as well. She had an a-line skirt from Dolce and Gabbana in mind, or a Jil Sander dress, but it would take seeing the clothes on Neb before she could come to a conclusion. After all, a new theory isn't formed without an experiment, right?

She and Neb were supposed to meet at the Jimmy Choo boutique at 12 noon. Hopefully less than an hour of shoe shopping would produce wonderful results. Neb waited outside for Ze, who arrived about ten minutes late.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized. "Our meeting ran a little late."

"Ze, you know its okay!" Nebula explained. "I was thinking about my outfit. Did you have pants or a skirt in mind?"

"I was thinking of a Dolce and Gabbana skirt, or maybe a Jil Sander dress in her new line," Zenon replied.

"You're gonna make me work all next week too, aren't you?" Nebula asked with a rueful laugh.

"Hey," Zenon scoffed, "It will be totally worth it when you get a date with that beautiful bass player."

"Mm, that is very true. What are we waiting for?" Nebula asked, pulling Zenon into Jimmy Choo.

The next thirty five minutes were spent trying on what seemed like a hundred pairs of shoes in two hundred shades. Zenon had a very clear picture of what she wanted: a pair of slinky silver heels, which were found relatively quickly. Nebula's search proved slightly more difficult as they found several potential pairs. Based on her color scheme ideas, they reduced it down to two pairs.

"Well, what if I get one and the dress doesn't match it well?" Nebula sighed.

"Hmm, I guess we could always buy both pair and return the unworn one…" Zenon reasoned.

"Ooh we could! I like that idea. Mhm, I like it a lot," Nebula said decisively. One pair were a sky-high, cork heeled, open-toed shoe in a sky blue; the other pair were relatively low kitten-style heels, in black, featuring an open toe with a peek-a-boo cut out, and a small dark pink bow on the toe.

After making their purchases and being assured they could return an unworn shoe for a full refund, the girls headed down the street to Jil Sander, the next closest designer they intended to visit.

Halfway there, Zenon pulled Nebula aside. Curiously, they were right in front of the Marc Jacobs boutique, and Zenon just happened to have an idea.

"Hey Neb, wouldn't it be fun to go in there and see if they have any of my bags left?" Zenon asked, a look of innocent mischief flitting through her eyes.

"Well, not really fun per se, but definitely interesting," Neb replied with a grin.

The girls walked arm in arm into the boutique, perusing the various goods aimlessly, until they came to the wall of bags. Zenon had to be as patient as possible, waiting for an associate to come and greet the, and ask if they needed help, as was the formality. IT was only a few moments before a young woman with 'Madison' on her nametag came and greeted them.

"May I help you ladies find anything?" She asked, in a syrupy sweet voice.

"Um yes, actually," Nebula replied. "I was just wondering if you by any chance have some Cosmic bags left in stock. My friend just got one here and I loved it, so I'm here to steal her style," she said with a laugh.

Madison raised an eyebrow, not attempting to hide a rude smirk that found its way to her lips. "Mm, no actually, we don't. Mr. Jacobs is actually here asking different opinions from customers on that style bag. One moment, I'll fetch him," she said, lightly disguising her snide tone.

Nebula's eyes widened. "Oh no, that's really alright, I'll just be on my way," she said, grabbing Zenon's arm and pulling her towards the exit.

"Oh, nonsense!" Madison said, secretly enjoying how uncomfortable the girl had become. "Mr. Jacobs!" She said loudly, flagging down the tall, salt and pepper haired man standing near the counter. HE was dressed smartly in a pair of jet black pants and a dark grey sweater. Wire-rim glasses sat on the tip of his nose, and the loafers he designed himself clicked as he walked toward Nebula.

Zenon was already facing the opposite direction, so she picked up the pace and pretended to browse through the scarf rack, all while eavesdropping on Nebula's awkward conversation.

"So, you're a fan of the Cosmic bags, I understand?" The older gentle man asked.

"Ohhh yeah," Nebula said slowly, nodding. "My- my friend just desi—bought. My friend just bought one and I really, really liked it."

Marc looked askance as he noticed the girl 'browsing' the scarves. "Oh, really? I'm sorry we don't have any more. They're some of the best selling my line has ever seen."

"Yeah, they are stellanarious to the tenth power squared," Neb replied.

Marc tilted his head more, "That's funny, that's the same kind of lingo the girl that designed it uses. She grew up on the military space station. I don't suppose you know of her? Zenon?"

Zenon flinched at hearing her name. "Please please please get us out of this Neb!" She thought.

"Yeah, we were on the same base. I am a few years older than her though, so I didn't see her much or know her that well," Neb lied.

"Really? That's funny because she is right over there, and you two walked in together," he said with a grin

Nebula's smile quickly faded, and Zenon's ears burned red. "I, uh, uh, um, uh, well yeah. We're best friends and just wanted to see if any of her bags were left," Nebula explained with a guilty look on her face.

"Ahh well, they are still all sold out here," he said as he walked in Zenon's direction. She was still facing the scarves hoping she'd turned invisible or was otherwise camouflaged. "Oh, and Zenon," he whispered as he made his way by. "I used to do the same thing when I was an intern at Ralph Lauren."

Zenon stifled a giggle, grabbed Neb's arm, and made her way out of the store as fast as she could.


Once outside of the Marc Jacobs boutique, the pair wandered down towards Jil Sander. The dress Zenon had in mind for Nebula was similar to the skirt from Dolce and Gabbana, but would be more form fitting and flattering. When they stepped into the showroom, the first thing Ze saw was a mannequin wearing the same dress in the middle of the floor. She eagerly pointed it out to Nebula, whose jaw dropped. Ze pulled her to the rack under the mannequin and began flipping through for Neb's size.

"Ze, are you crazy? I can't wear that dress!" Nebula exclaimed, quietly. Based on the doll's appearance, Nebula wouldn't be able to wear the dress, but Zenon felt that Neb's curves could do the dress more justice than the stick thin model.

"Nebula, you are gorgeous! You will fill out this dress so much better than that stupid mannequin does. Look, here," Zenon said, grasping a bunch of fabric that was tapered back for the display. "It looks awful without curves and Neb, you've got them!" Ze quickly pulled a size six off the rack and shooed Nebula into the dressing room.

Five minutes later, Zenon heard the unmistakable shriek that could only belong to Neb. She rushed back over to the dressing rooms, and was greeted by a stunning Nebula. The little black dress fit her figure perfectly and showed off all her best assets. A fitted bodice showed the round curve of her chest, and nipped in her waist. At her hips, the a-line skirt flared out dramatically, the light organza helping to keep its shape. A silk magenta ribbon ran around it. Little lines and flowers and other miscellaneous patterns were stitched around the flared skirt, creating an extra touch that further enhanced how beautiful the dress really was. The straps were no more than an inch wide, showing her unblemished shoulders. It fit snugly, without being too tight or too loose. It was, in short, the perfect dress.

Zenon's jaw dropped. "Neb! W-wow! You look great!"

Nebula turned around to face Ze. She was shocked as well, and amazed at how perfect it was. She simply nodded to Zenon, then went back to change out of it.

After paying for the dress and returning the cork-heeled shoes to Jimmy Choo, they were on their way home.


After returning home, they sat around for a little bit, watching bits and pieces of different TV shows, before Nebula got up to shower. Once she got squeaky clean, she sat down at the vanity in her room to apply her makeup. She dusted a light powder over her face, blending it evenly, used a light pink blush on the apples of her cheeks, and smudged a similar pink cream eye shadow on the edges of her wide eyes. The final touch, a gold bronzer on her shoulders, would be applied just before she left.

Zenon lounged around a little while longer, before showering and washing her hair. Once her hair was dry, she went over to her closet and began searching for the desired outfit. Towards the back, she found the black pants she had in mind. Tiny grey pinstripes ran down the legs of the pants, elongating her shorter-frame. After she had them on, she began digging for the silver shirt she knew she had: a button up, long sleeve shirt with a cinched waist. Being unable to find it, she ran down the hall to Neb's room and found it in her closet. Zenon made her way back to her room, after dropping out of panic mode major, and began searching for the jacket she intended to wear with it. She hung it on her door until she was ready to leave. That done, she headed to the bathroom to apply her makeup and do her hair.

She sat down at the mirror, unsure of what to do with her hair. It was long, past her shoulders, with angle-cut bangs, which drew attention to her eyes. After playing with it for a few minutes, she finally decided on a wearing it half up in a sterling silver barrette, and curling the ends. Within a few minutes, she was applying a last coat of styling spray, her assurances the curls wouldn't fall out. Her makeup wouldn't be anything too fancy; she planned on wearing her glasses tonight. Rummaging through her train case of makeup, she decided on a light/dark grey smoky eye combo. She lined her eyes with a black kohl eye pencil, and deftly ran a finger under it to smudge it slightly. She applied the light grey shadow to just above her eyelid, and filled in the area between the grey and her eyebrow with an off white, so light it could barely be seen. The darker grey was applied to the very edge of each eye, playing up the sparkling blues of her irises. She had no need for powder- her porcelain skin was free of all blemishes. She chose to add a little layer of pale pink plush paint, and a clear lip gloss to finish.

Ze put on her jacket and buttoned the one button just above her belly button, before walking down the hall to find Neb.

"I have a feeling tonight is going to be one of the best of my life," Ze said with a smile as she stepped into the hallway.

Nebula gave a half-hearted smile back. "She doesn't know what's coming," Neb thought. She crossed her fingers and locked the door. "I sure hope she will still call tonight one of the best of her life…"


"Nebula Wade, here to pick up tickets for the No Remorse show," Nebula told the smartly dressed secretary at Intergalactic Rock Radio's front desk.

"Ah yes, Miss Wade," the woman replied. "I'll just need to see picture I.D. and get you to sign a release saying I gave you tickets and you received them and such. For liabilities these days, you know," she said, handing Nebula a clip board with 4 or 4 forms on it. Nebula took it from her and sat down in a chair near the desk. "I'll be right back- I have to fetch the tickets," the woman said, as she walked into a back room.

"Eek, I am so excited!" Ze said, squeezing Nebula's arm. "I can't wait to see them up close and personal!"

"Would she be so excited if she knew Proto Zoa is going to be there? Is she going to hate me forever if she finds out I had something to do with this?" Nebula couldn't calm her worries about the plan to reunite the former lovers. "This better be a damn good song."

Nebula finished the forms, stood and handed them to secretary that just returned. She smiled and handed the girls the small envelope. "Y'all enjoy!" She said, her southern charm shining through. They took the tickets and hailed a taxi to take them to the Los Angeles Hilton hotel.


Once they made it past all the security guards, Zenon and Nebula stepped into the cozy conference room and stopped, taking in all the sights. After regaining their composure, the two ventured further in and into the small hubbub surrounding the stage. The actual band members were out socializing in the crowd, mixing and mingling with their fans in this once in a lifetime event. The pair stood there awkwardly for a moment, before the lead singer himself walked up to them. He recognized Zenon from the description Proto Zoa had given him, and silently crossed his fingers that this plan of his mate's would work.

"Hi, I'm Ewan," he said, extending a hand to the girls.

"Hi, I'm Nebula and this is my friend Zenon," Nebula said.

"It's nice to meet you both. Zenon, you don't work with Marc Jacobs by chance, do you?" He asked.

"Actually, uh, I do. Why?" She asked, puzzled.

"My wife loves your handbag. She has been trying to get one for ages. Think you can work a little magic and make me look like a hero?" He asked, with a hopeful tone.

"Haha, sure, I will do my best!" She replied.

"Thank you! I'll give you our address after the show. IT was nice to meet you both," he said with a smile.

After he walked away, Nebula grabbed Ze's arm. "Did you hear that! Ewan Donahue and Kristen McDonald know who you are! Ze, you are famous!"

"Whatever Neb, You are crazy!" She said with a giggle. "But it was pretty cool, wasn't it!" Nebula nodded as the room darkened.

Ewan took the stage without the rest of the band. "I want to thank each and every one of you for being here tonight, and hope you enjoy our new album, but first, I have a friend whom I owed a favor… everyone, enjoy," he said, as the lights went off completely.

Nebula wasn't about to get caught in the line of fire, so she moseyed over to the punch bowl sans Zenon.

The stage remained dark, but a figure moved around, sat on a stool, and picked up a guitar. A deep British voice came over the speakers. "This is for someone incredibly special to me. Someone I wronged. Someone, whom I want to apologize to," the voice asked.

Less than a second later, the person began playing the guitar. A short intro led into the heartfelt song.


Halfway through the song, Zenon's eyes were filled with tears. She recognized the voice to be Proto Zoa's, and it broke her heart. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing, and glanced over at Nebula, who had disappeared. "Why did he do this? Why?" She wondered silently. "Because he really does love you," a voice in the back of her mind whispered.

As the song ended and the lights came back on, Zenon couldn't handle the rush of emotions she felt. She ran out of the room, Jimmy Choo heels clicking all the way.

Proto Zoa's eyes slowly opened after finished the song, and scanned the crowed for Zenon. All he saw was her retreating form and Nebula shrugging towards him. He quickly put the guitar down and ran off the stage, following her. By the time he made it to the hallway, he only caught a glimpse f her ducking into a side corridor, followed by a door opening and closing. He followed the noise, and found himself in front of three doors. One was an emergency exit, with warnings of alarms going off if opened. He knew she hadn't chosen that one, or the men's room, so that left only the women's rest room for her to be in.

Catching his breath, he took his chances and pushed the door open.

"Go away," Zenon's choked voice said. The door closed, but he just stood there. "I said go away. I'd rather cry alone, Nebula," She said bitterly.

He waited a moment before saying, "It's not Nebula."

"Shit," she said, before standing abruptly and running to a stall, locking herself in.

He cringed at her avoidance, silently praying she wasn't still angry, just upset by the song. "Zenon, please…" he pleaded as he walked towards the stall.

Her sobs were his only reply. They came loudly and were interrupted every few moments by a hiccup. She sat on the toilet, biting her lip against them, and dabbing at her eyes with toilet paper.

"Zenon, please, just… just talk to me," he pleaded. All he wanted was to talk to her. He wanted her to yell at him, scream at him, anything, just as long as she spoke to him.

She hiccupped. "I gave you everything. Everything I ever had I devoted to you. Do you know how much you hurt me? How it ripped my heart out to come home and find you with another woman! This past year hasn't been easy. I've cried myself to sleep more nights than I care to remember. It feels like I've died inside a thousand time," she said, bitterness invading her voice.

His heart dropped at what he heard. "She'll not ever take me back…" he thought, sadly.

"But the worst part is," she said in a shaky voice, "is the fact that I can't hate you. I still…" her voice trailed off as the lock on the stall door slid off. She slowly opened the door, revealing her tear streaked face, "The worst part is, I can't stop loving you," she said.

He quickly closed the gap between them, grabbing her and holding onto her with all his might. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating to her. "Please, come back, I'm broken without you."

She nodded into his shoulder, whispering, "me too." She was soaking his shirt with tears, and he was creating a wet spot in her hair.

He slowly began swaying, still holding on to her, singing quietly into her ear:

"I've tried, to go on like I never knew you

I was awake but my world was half asleep

I prayed for my heart to be unbroken

But back with you I'm