Gah! I am back a bit early then I planned, but that's good! I'm going to be ubber busy with work and school now until May. 6 days of school plus 30 hours of work and volunteering at the library is gonna be hell. 50 hours of my life is wasted so easily for five classes and two jobs! What the hell was I thinking!?!?!?!?
Track of Choice: "That was Just Your Life" by Metallica
Chapter One: Was it Fate?
Over five years had come to pass since that faithful night when Cancerous quite literally walked out on Dethklok's life, leaving hollow and bitter sweet feelings. After the initial shock, Ofdensen made sure to keep his promise to the five women Dethklok had held so dear in their heart of hearts. It pained the business man slightly to have seen the boys sulk for nearly a week, their hearts broken and for some their dreams shattered. But in the end, as Moira had once kindly put it, it was all just business that went bad.
The only thing anyone could be glad about was Dethklok's ability to direct their anger into their music, producing three more albums and now being recognized as the third largest economy, yet the money brought them little happiness. No one had heard from Cancerous since Ofdensen had shown them the news, letting them believe the girls just blended back into society.
The CFO was in his office, going through the mail to make sure it was clean. Satisfied that once again the magazines contained news of the girls' growing careers in the special Dethklok Censored version Ofdensen had requested, he had a worker put it back in the mail box until one of the boys went to retrieve it. His phone went off then.
"Charles Ofdensen speaking." He answered coolly, sitting back in his chair. "Ah, yes… Mr. Johnson, good day. Yes, Pickles did want to sponsor." He resisted the urge to sigh. The drummer had deliberately did it against the manager's advice, but the man said he could stand to see his favorite racer not compete if all he needed was a main sponsor. And there came Pickles to the rescue.
Jimmie Johnson, a NASCAR racer, talked animatedly on the other end. The CFO rolled his eyes. Once the driver calmed down, the two got down to business. Ofdensen half listened intently as Johnson rambled on and on about his qualifications and appreciation of the sponsorship, his mind more set on going over his schedule of routine maintenance in Mordhaus. One thing really caught Ofdensen's attention however.
"You want to meet Pickles in Daytona?" he furrowed his brows, "Who are the other drivers?" Cradling his phone between his shoulder and ear, the CFO took out a key and unlocked a drawer to his left, sorting through the important files until he came across the one he was looking for. Flipping it open, the first page was a clipping of newspaper with a fiery red headed woman holding up a trophy.
"Huh? I don't know. It's a practice racer on Thursday, so it depends on who arrives. So far Earnhardt, Harvick and Smith and Kurt Busch are here." The racer said, obviously a bit confused about the manager's sudden question.
"Do you know if any female drivers are competing?" he jotted down on a note pad to call the officials of NASCAR to get a lineup. The idea of Pickles going to Florida to meet the man he was sponsoring wasn't bad, but the fact his ex was now the cover girl of every motor magazine and NASCAR, it couldn't be done. He had a pact to keep to them. Plus, if any of the boys went on another emotional rollercoaster, it wouldn't be good business.
"Not that… I know of. Several racers are coming in tomorrow, maybe they'll know. I don't think CC is competing, something about time off, but I'm sure about her or the other women."
"No, I'll call the officials right now to confirm the drivers."
There was a small pause, "Sir, can I ask why you want to know?"
Ofdensen sighed mentally, the guy was just bothersome. Yet he was Pickles' favorite. "It's nothing to concern yourself with. There is a female racer, that uh, Pickles' not quite fond of. I will discuss the matter with Pickles and I will get back to you." With that, the two bid each other adieu and Ofdensen immediately called the president.
"Hello, this is Charles Ofdensen, the CFO of Dethklok. Pickles is sponsoring one of the racers and I was… curious to know who is competing this season."
Pickles and Toki were in the living room watching TV, minding their own business as the drummer flipped through the channel. So far nothing caught their interest. The rhythm guitarist sighed, resting his head on his hand that was on the arm rest of the couch, a lollipop in his other hand.
"Dis sucks." He said quietly, "Dere's never notings to does anymores."
Pickles snorted, "Tell me about it, I'm gonna be fucking pissed if NASCAR is cancelled on TV half way through. None of us can go unless we get permission from the asshole, but he's been a fucking Nazi these last few years." Turning off the TV, he sighed, "I wonder why though…"
Toki shrugged, "Perhaps cause of dem…?" No one ever mentioned Cancerous or the girls by name, just them. Though the memories heart, the men simply couldn't forget.
"Nah, I doubt it. I haven't heard anything about them since that one time on the news. They don't seem the kind to car for cars and shit like that."
Nathan came trudging in then, a bowl of cereal in hand. Sporting a large hickey on his neck and scratches on his arms, the other two raised their brows in question. "Were you fucking mauled by a lion?"
"…No… the chick just liked to play rough." Speaking of which, said chick came into the room dressed in a skimpy robe, hazel eyes looking at him from beneath blonde hair. Her arms were folded over her chest as she huffed. "What? I fucking told you, we're not dating." Nathan growled, not bothering to look up at his guest from the night before once he turned to stare at the television. "It was a good fuck, be happy."
"How can you be so mean, Nate? After I gave you the best nig-" Nathan cut her off.
"That wasn't the best night. It was good, but not the best. Get out before I call security." Everyone slinked back at the cold and heartlessness of his words. The girl scoffed and went out again, bumping into Skwisgaar and his guitar.
"Whats all dat abouts? Natans, is dat not likes…. The number five ladies you hads dis week?"
And it was true. What everyone had realized years before was Nathan Explosion still had some attachment to the former queen of metal, as they all did to their significant other. While they forgave and forgot, Nathan simply couldn't, unable to keep a steady relationship for long time and turned more into a man whore then Skwisgaar. So far, all the women he slept with had some kind resemblance to Moira, may it have been the hair, eyes, body or features. The man simply was never satisfied.
Just then, Ofdensen paged Pickles on the intercom. Sighing again, the drummer got up and left his fellow band mates to go channel surfing again, settling for station that played nothing but horror movies.
"Hey, Cherry Coke, get yer ass over here, we're leavin'! We gotta be in Daytona in two days if ya wanna practice." Said a man in his mid forties, dressed in a mechanic's jumpsuit covered in grease stains. The man had short reddish brown hair slicked back, a few strands hanging over his eyebrows as his left green eye twitched in annoyance. Running a hand over his beard, he frowned. "We gotta get there before the media know yer a fill in fer Dave Blaney."
A woman jumped out of a nice two story country home, surrounded by farmland and animals. A herd of cows mooed while they grazed several yards away. The woman had long blood red hair tied up in a high pony, emerald colored eyes laughing as she smile broadly. It was her, Cherry Maraschino of Cancerous.
"Now, now Parker. That ain't no way to speak to yer little sister! Competition or not, don't be a hard ass." The Texan woman giggled. "I had to make sure I didn't ferget my suit this time."
The older sibling sighed, "Fine. Momma, we're leavin!" he called to the house. A voice was heard in the distance shouting out a farewell. "We're behind as it is, Cherry. We gotta drive through the night in order ta make it to Daytona. Only bathroom n' food breaks, nothing else, got it?" the woman nodded as she jumped up into truck that pulled the trailer which contained their cars.
After a year since the breakup of her band and being a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader with her younger sister on a dare, the former drummer of the greatest female metal band had found a passion in racing, becoming the first woman in history to win the Sprint Cup two seasons ago. At first it started out with drag racers and the likes, petty competition of speed and aero dynamics. One of the regulars of NASCAR had noticed her, thus getting her a contract with Bill Davis Racing team. Within the next year and winning rookie of the year, Cherry had gone on to become a racing legend and the most wanted woman in America. She even had the honor to dine with the current President of the United States. Such were weird times.
But under the name pseudonym of CC Woodrow to ward off any lingering fans or Undertakers, no one really knew it was Cherry. With racing and music being two totally different industries, no one really paid much attention or thought to suspect the two were one and the same, even with the piercing and star tattoo, for all they knew the racer admired the drumming star.
Putting on her cowboy hat, she turned on the radio as her brother climbed in and revved the engine, behind them three vans followed, one holding most of their pit crew who hadn't left before them and the other their luggage and equipment that couldn't fit into the main trailer.
"From Dethklok's new album Infinite Dark: That was Just Your Life." The announcer said as he started the song right at the time the lyrics began. It was Pickles' voice. Parker, Cherry's eldest brother, gave her a quick glance as he made a move to change the station. Cherry stopped him.
"No… don't. I…" her voice trailed. There was an awkward pause.
Parker sighed, "Cherry Coke… Sis, it's been five years. He's not going to look for you." His mouth twitched, not wanting to make his sister sad in anyway. The poor girl had a rough life as it was.
The woman shrugged, "I know… but I can't help but miss him. I doubt he would if he's forgiven me, he might think I'm just no name Sally on the streets." Then she sighed, "I will never love a man like I did him." Without realizing it, Cherry ran her hands over her flat stomach underneath the loose fitting tank top, a distant look in her eyes as she continued to stare forward. The two remained silent after that.
---Two days later: Daytona, Florida---
Pickles carefully pulled up to one of the parking spaces at the Daytona International Speedway in his Harley Davidson Fat Boy, customized in a very metal way with a giant menacing skull that actually held the head light inside. It was his prize possession and the only thing he couldn't bear to give up when he and the other Dethklok members practically cleansed their home of everything that reminded them of the girls. Ofdensen had allowed him to go, no hearing a certain CC Woodrow on the list. Little did anyone now; Blaney had pulled out from the race because of a dislocated hip, sending Cherry as his replacement since they were on the same team.
"Hey, you made it!" Someone said from the main entrance. Pickles turned his head and sighed.
"Had nothing better to do back home. Today's a practice race, right?" He covered his eyes for a moment, looking up at the setting sun.
"Correct. And again, thank you so much for being my new sponsor when Lowe's and Kobalt Tools ditch me. I'm a big fan." The now 40 year old race car driver said as he shook the drummer's hand. Jimmie Johnson's smile broadened as he let go, sticking his hands in the pocket of his jump suit. "Well, the pit crew is setting up, how about we go to the lounge? You can meet some of the other racers."
Shrugging, Pickles followed him and tuned him out as Johnson continued to rant about doing his best to enter the Race of Champions and the likes. As the two entered the spacious room, they got a whiff of barbeque that smelled absolutely wonderful. In line for the buffet were Jeff Gordon, Juan Montoya and Kevin Harvick.
"Hey fellas! Look, its Pickles the Drummer from Dethklok!" The other fifteen men who were present stopped everything and turned to look in awe, "Wow…" Jeff Gordon whistled, "I didn't think Jimmie would actually get them to sponsor!"
Everyone 'oohed' and 'awed', a soft murmur heard as they spoke among themselves like school girls. Harvick was about to greet him when suddenly his phone vibrated. Answering it, he pouted a bit before giving the person on the other end a reply, "Ok… And CC, don't flip out about Jimmie Johnson's new sponsor, ok? Huh? Really? Well… pretty much everyone who's arrived is up in the lounge. Damn, you guys set up quick. Yeah, I'll tell them." He hung up and smiled a bit. "Hey guys," he said to grab everyone's attention, "CC and Parker are here and down in the tracks."
The others shouted in excitement, grabbing their plates and moving to the large wall of windows to see two drivers getting into their cars. Once the light turned green, both rocketed out of the starting line. The men were making bets, leaving Pickles confused. Johnson chuckled.
"We're all friends as well as enemies. Harmless bets. No once races like Parker or CC when they go at it together. Sibling rivalry I suppose. CC plans to advance to the Race of Champions and Chase for the Cup again. She's only been racing for four years, but voted Rookie of the year twice and America's Hottest Woman, ranked third in the world." Johnson glanced as both cars rounded a corner, the Hooter's sponsored car took a sharp turn, leaving skid marks on the pavement and leaving the Coors car behind by a few feet.
This got Pickles' attention, "It's a woman? I've only know of thirteen women in history ever making it to NASCAR. None made it very far though. Where did she rank last year? And I never heard of this CC chick."
"Third. It was a close call. She would have been second, but Harvick passed her by a point. Who hasn't heard of CC? Mr. Pickles, I'm… a little surprised. Everyone knows CC Woodrow, America's number one hottest woman." Then he smiled, "Let's go meet her then. She's a nice girl from Texas. We all adore her, don't matter if we're married or not."
Grabbing his arm, Johnson rushed him down to the field and in a stupid and idiotic move, ran across the tracks once the two cars, apparently going for fifty laps, passed. Going to CC's crew chief, he grabbed the man's headphones and spoke into the mike.
"Hey CC! What up?" Pickles gave him a funny look. This was definitely not how he thought his favorite racer would act like. It was strange.
"Huh? Jimmie?" said the female voice. It was oddly familiar to the drummer and for reasons unknown to him, his heart beat quickened, "Was that you runnin' across the track?"
"Yeah… anyway, come in for a pit stop!"
"No! If I beat Parker, he's paying for my room service the next three months. I'm in the lead!"
"Why are you here anyway? Did you kill Blaney?" As the Hooter's car came close by, the driver rolled down her window and stuck her hand out, flipping him off as she saw him. Sighing, he opted for another reason for her to come by.
"What are you doing?" Pickles asked, wondering if the man was a bit insane. Who the hell runs across a racing track when it's being used?
Pulling the headphones away, the male racer smiled, "This chick is hard to find alone. Something about hating the media. Mr. Pickles, you have to meet this woman. You'll like her." Turning his attention back to the head piece as the cars entered their twentieth lap, Johnson smirked.
"CC… I think you suck." CC's car had just zoomed by them and was about to make a turn but then it suddenly made a wicked sharp turn that nearly caused the car to flip, smoke rising from the tires as the Coors sponsored car went past her. The car then gave a boom before skidding back into the pit spot, stopping within inches of the wall. The car moved from side to side as the driver stumbled out, literally jump over the hood and stomped over to the other racer.
"Say what now?" she threw off her helmet. Red hair danced in the slight ocean breeze, green eyes narrowed in anger as her bottom pierced lip pouted. "I suck? Hon, I fuckin' did better then you last year!"
"Ch-Cherry?" Pickles gasped. "Is that… you?" He simply couldn't believe what, or who, he was seeing. The fullness of her lips, the expressive eyes, that toned figured underneath the thick fire resistant safety suit and that voice. It was a dream unfolding before him.
"Cherry…?" Johnson said in slight confusion.
The woman swung her head, and gasped as well, falling over the wall she was currently trying to climb over. Pickles rushed to her side and with Johnson's help, they had her standing again. Cherry backed away, almost as if she was scared. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, disbelief written all over her face as she stared at the man she had loved for more than five years.
"Pickles? Whu… What are ya doin here?" The urge to run was strong, but her body simply wouldn't move. The two had locked gazes, mesmerized as old feelings and memories began to stir. Cherry licked her lips, Pickles darted his eyes to watch as he stood there with no emotion on his face anymore.
"The hell happened!" another voice interrupted their staring contest, "CC, sis, why'd ya make a U? Whose this?" Taking a good look at the non racer, the man was clueless as to who Pickles was, having little interest in the news and the world of metal music.
"My sponsor." Johnson said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Cherry smacked her forehead, coming out of her trance, "Sponsor! Dethklok? Are you serious or are you fuckin with me?" Her voice cracked, a classic sign that the female was probably going to cry. "Dammit Jimmie!" with that, she stormed away. Pickles went after her, leaving the two racers and silent pit crew wondering about what happened.
"I don't… understand." Jimmie said, "That was weird. OW!" Parker smacked the younger driver upside the head. "What the hell was that for?"
"For being a dick! CC… CC is Cherry Maraschino from Cancerous! That there was my sister's fiancé! Remember what happened to Cancerous? That poor girl has been heartbroken since the day she left him; you've just fucked up her recovery!" The man boomed. "Why didn't you tell us who your new sponsor was?"
Jimmie rubbed the back of his head, "How was I to know? Sure, they looked similar, but I didn't know CC was the Cherry from Cancerous. How am I supposed to know?"
"I think you just gave her a fucking heart attack." Looking up at the direction the couple had gone to, he sighed, "Too bad I can't help her. She's gotta do this on her own."
"Cherry, wait!" Pickles said as he caught up to her once they made it to the locker room area, "Cherry… Cherry, at least fucking speak to me! What the fuck did I ever do to you?" he was panting as she collapsed into a chair, rubbing her eyes.
Cherry sighed, "You did nothin' Pickles. It was for the better that I… we left." They were left in an uncomfortable silence. Pickles sighed and kneeled in front of her, hoping to get eye contact.
"I… I don't understand." He said softly, "I've been fucking miserable the last five years. I want some answers. Closure." It wasn't that he was mad anymore, but seeing her just walk away from him again had opened up the gaping hole inside him. It hurt to no end, to not see or touch her, to know whether or not she was safe, had she married and the likes.
The former drummer chuckled darkly, "Closure? Please… I'm shocked you ain't yellin' at me." She gave him a dark smile, her eyes showing the deep pain she felt as they made eye contact. "Don'tcha hate me?" she whispered, scared to say it any louder.
"Sure, I'm still mad, but I could never hate you. Never." Cherry finally broke eye contact, unshed tears brimmed the corner of her eyes. She willed herself to give him a small shaky smile. Perhaps she could do what she had meant to do if the time ever came. Make up with Pickles… find closure as he put it.
"S-seriously? You're not?" Pickles shook his head. "Then… uh. I guess we're due fer a talk. Uh… want to go to a bar? There's this one down the street within walkin' distance the boys and I go to often. They'll keep the fans at bay." She gave him a small smile, this one with more confidence.
Pickles returned it and nodded his head. All of a sudden he felt relieved and complete again, Cherry was willing to talk. The drummer watched as she went to her locker and began to dress in normal street clothes, not caring if Pickles or anyone saw her. This had him raising his eyebrow in question. Did she change with the boys? Cherry had better not.
But he had to smile as he watched her shimmy herself into tight jeans. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, as if she hadn't aged in the last half decade. Here he was close to forty while she was still considered in the prime of her life at 32; her birthday had not come to pass just yet. What amazed him most was the fact he didn't blow up on her, demanding she explain everything to him. Instead, the fear of her disappearing from his life again had scared him. The thought of her having moved on without him hurt like crazy, but right now he could tell she hadn't. She was in the same boat as him. Alone.
"Hey, Par. I'm fine. Yeah. No. No. Ugh, shut up old man! Listen, Pickles n' I are gonna head on over to the bar, ok? Yes, we are. No, you may not come. No, I'll kick his ass tomorrow; make his car flip or somethin'. Hmm? Nuh-uh. Ok, love ya too. Alright, alright. Parker! Aw, fuck you." She hung up her phone, a slight blush on cheeks. "Dumbass older brother." Looking up at Pickles, she shrugged, "Well, hop to it before he comes after me."
They walked side by side, her arms folded across her chest while Pickles kept his hands in his pockets. He glanced at her, admiring her dressed in low rise hip huggers, tight black tanks top, matching cowboy hat and flats. Her top rose up to show her midriff, making him realize something.
"Where are… the scars?" he covered his mouth, not wanting to have said that out loud. Cherry rolled her eyes and shook her head with a small smile.
"Laser treatments. Hurt like hell, but the marks started ta fade. You can still seem 'em with better lightin'. Gotta love science." She flashed him a toothy smile as they neared the bar. It wasn't anything special, much to Pickles pleasures. Cherry seemed to like the simple things in life still. Flashing her NASCAR access pass and ID, the two veered to the right into a hall way before going up a set of stairs to the second floor. Much to the drummer's surprise, more race car drivers and other celebrities were there enjoying themselves without the annoyance of fans.
Sitting at the bar, Cherry ordered a mojito while Pickles settled for a beer. They sat quietly for a while, the much softer playing music not causing a problem for them to speak and be heard. Once their drinks came, Cherry turned on her stool until she faced her former fiancé.
"So… how are the boys?" she said to make light talk as they got comfortable around one another again.
Pickles chuckled, "Aside from what the tabloids say, they're ok. Skwisgaar not whoring around so much though. Murderface and his Planet Piss project practically blew up. Apparently he can't even talk on the radio without flipping out." The two shared a laugh, "Uh, Toki's seen better day. Lately he's been a bit down." He took a gulp from his beer. "Poor kid doesn't know what to do with himself. He'll be twenty-eight in a few months."
"And Nathan?" Cherry placed a finger on the straw and moved it around, stirring the contents of her drink. Her knee bumped his thigh, causing both of them to shudder at the contact.
"Well…" he sighed, "Since you guys left, he's been… I don't know, insecure I guess. He sleeps with a shit load of women, and if he does get into a relationship, it doesn't last long. If he so much as suspects something odd, it's over."
The NASCAR driver tapped his leg with her foot. "What about you? Sleepin' 'round much?" she gave him a small knowing smile that made his heart clench painfully.
Pickles nearly choked, "Uh… I…" He visibly paled, not wanting to disclose such a thing with his old lover. It was awkward.
"It's ok. I won't get mad. Promise." Taking a sip from her drink, she leaned back and waited for him to some up enough courage.
The drummer became flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck, "In… in five years? Damn… can't remember since I'm usually all fucked up and hammered if I even decide to uh… ya know." Cherry nodded her head slowly as if understanding, but he caught the sad look on her face. "Cherry I… I never…"
"Save it." she said softly but forcefully. There was no indication of anger or jealousy in her tone, just patience, "I figured as much, Pickles. I too have been with a few guys, but nothin' special, and before ya ask, no, none were the other drivers." Pickles sighed in relief at that. "I keep things as professional as possible on and off the tracks. My brother helps, since I am America's top hottest woman after all." She winked at him, her smile teasing.
Finishing off his drink, Pickles ordered another one, "Enough about me. Have you kept in touch with the others?" the conversation was relaxing, almost as if nothing had happened between them. Their engagement, the loss of their baby, the separation… if was forgotten at the moment.
Cherry leaned against her hand and pouted a little, "Not really. Bloodyfist's in San Diego, a light weight champion and she's been rather successful in Ovary Override, which turns out to be a Psychobilly band er somethin'. Let's see… Lucy's been in France, Dj-in' at some club I think she owns, or at least partially owns…" She took a quick glance at Pickles, "Say… are ya gonna uh… tell the others we met?" Pickles shrugged, "Cause the other two had some big changes in their lives."
Cherry moved a strand of hair behind her ear, "I really shouldn't tell you till Nathan n' Skwisgaar find out fer themselves. But trust me, it's shockin'. It was all over the news fer months." She shook her head to little, her eyes looking up towards the ceiling.
Pickles sat there with his mouth open, his new beer bottle half way to his lips. "Really?" He was confused as why none of them knew anything. Why were they in a bubble?
"Yes soiree!" Cherry sighed, taking a sip from her mojito again. "Mm, those two are Europe's leadin' ladies. Lucy's too, but fer some reason Rune and Mo'ra are way more popular. Can't get enough of 'em. Rune's back ta modelin' and became Vice Pres of her daddy's porn gig. Mo'ra a renowned singer, mostly opera n' pop. Woman totally left metal."
"How come we don't know any of this?" Pickles said, confused. "I know I don't watch the news all the time, but fuck. You think they'd something. Cancerous was an American band."
"Ofdensen has some weird connections I suppose. That man… wow. He can make anything' happen. Ya sure he ain't fuckin' Jesus incarnate?" she said with a chuckle.
Pickles furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?" He didn't like the fact Ofdensen was once again with holding news that concerned them and their personal lives.
Downing the last of her drink, Cherry hummed, "Hmm… it was the last deal Mo'ra had with Charlie. It prevented you from wanting to look fer us while yall were pissed as hell." She paused for a second, spotting someone behind Pickles, "Damn. Wanna head fer my hotel room? More privacy."
"Uh, sure. But why?"
Cherry didn't bother to look at him as she got up, "Rico," she said, capturing the attention of the bartender, "Put it on my brother's tab, 'ight?" Grabbing Pickle's hand, she dragged him to the other end where there was an exit sign hanging over head, "Shit… hope he didn't see-"
"Fuck!" Wondering what was going on, Pickles turned a bit to glance over his shoulder, his brows shooting up to his forehead as he spotted Aric Amilrola trying to catch up to them. "Dip shit can't take a hint!" fumed Cherry. Luckily they managed to get out into the now very crowded street, losing the other racer. "Phew. Now to get… crap, Parker took the keys to the Porsche!" Putting on a big smile, Cherry turned to look up at Pickles, "How'd ya get here, hon?"
Pickles laughed, holding her around the shoulder as he tucked her underneath his arm. Cherry blushed a little, their situation didn't really warrant any physical contact just yet. "Get your helmet. I brought the bike you gave me." She stiffened a little from shock, "Yeah, I still kept it…"
The two settled on the couch of her large suite with a bag of chips and cokes. The TV was left on the news channel and the volume set low, just so things didn't get uncomfortable if Cherry and Pickles fell into silence. A blanket had been placed over their laps as they sat side by side, Cherry once again tucked under his arm.
"…it was only for that year. My sister convinced me ta join, I didn't think I would actually make it. Bein' a cheerleader is… hard." Cherry chuckled a bit as she snuggled closer to the man beside her. "Damn, as a former DCC, I gotta hand it to them, they're not all ditzy and crap, some or nice while others are… damn, Satan incarnate."
Pickles grinned, "Wow, I gotta see pictures." There was again, a short pause before Pickles sighed, "Cherry… why'd you leave me?" he stared down at their intertwined hands, a bit scared to know the truth, but he needed to know. His right hand held her right, the back of her hand resting on the middle of his chest.
Lazily drawing circles on his stomach with her free hand, Cherry heaved a big sigh, trying to collect her thoughts. Pickles didn't mind waiting, so long as she told him what he wanted and needed to hear. The thought had always haunted him.
"Well…" she began, unsure of herself, "After… after what happened back at the concert, all of us were… scared ya know. For ourselves, for Mo'ra, for… you. When Mo'ra finally came back she uh… she made a point that none of us could refuse. Don't blame her please; she did it thinking about you and us…"
Moira sat in the middle of all her friends, dead serious to make them understand her train of thought. It was their choice to go through with it or not in the end, but she knew someone was going to get hurt. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she began. This totaally went back on what Ofdensen had said. They needed to know.
"I know that… over the years I've been acting like a, uh… a real bitch and because of it, I probably did this to us. Cherry," Moira looked at her drummer, eyes shimmering with tears that threatened to fall but never did. "I am so, so sorry you and Pickles lost your baby. But… while I was 'away' I," she took another breath, placing her hand over her heart that thundered in her chest, "I've come to realize that yes, I have strong feelings for Nathan Explosion but also, Van Winkler wasn't the one to orchestrate the attacks. It was someone close to us, suppose to protect us." She bit her lower lip.
"Whaddya mean?" Cherry said, cocking her head to the side.
It was now or never, "Andy. He betrayed us in order to get to Dethklok." The girls gasped.
"Buts… why?" Lucy said in a small voice, her eyes widen in horror, "He was likes… fad-ders to us alls."
"I know," Moira whispered, "But his greed and jealousy were far greater than his love for us. As you know, Javier escaped. With him is Andy. If we stay together, they'll come back to get us. We're too close to Dethklok… fuck, two of you are engaged! So I have a request."
Bloodyfist ran a hand through her hair, "What would that be?" she asked, glancing at the petite woman who was now holding her head in her hands.
"Let's break up and leave." The room fell into silence. The only sounds were their shallow breathing and the ticking of the clock. Moira pressed on before she could be interrupted. "Think about it," she started off saying, "What better way to get to them then through us? Undertakers were formed mainly to take us down because we were a threat to them. With us being in love with Dethklok, Munkittrick and Van Winkler would somehow try to get us, maybe even kill us. Because Nathan cares for me, Javier wants him dead. Most likely he wants the same with the others."
Lucy was sobbing, "No… it's not trues!"
Moira heart reached out to the poor young woman who clutched her ring, a symbol of Toki's adoration for her. Cherry did her best to comfort the Ukrainian guitarist by allowing her to weep onto her chest; however the drummer seemed to be in a daze. "Lucy… it's the only way to keep them safe. If we're gone Van Winkler will have no reason to go after them. Munkittrick just wants their money anyway possible. It's up to you though, if you're willing to do this with me. We'd be protecting them by keeping away from them and each other. With Cancerous no more, Dethklok is safe." She wrung her hands nervously, watching her fingers constrict around one another instead at the shell shocked women. "At least… that's what I think sounds logical. I don't see any other way."
Runa was the first to speak. "I goes den. If it would keeps Skwisgaar safes, den I's does it. For him and our baby." There was a collective gasp, even Lucy quieted down long enough to hear the rest of her fellow guitarist talk, "He… doesn'ts know. After hearings what Moira's has to says, I think it is da bests dat we forgets abouts dem. Dere life style… can we raise families like dis if we has to fears for each others' lives?" It was a valid point that had Lucy drying her tears and Cherry looking up, trying hard not to let her tears fall.
Bloodyfist groaned, covering her eyes with her hands as she sat cross legged on the floor. "In a weird way, it does make sense. What if they go on a search for us though?" She looked up, her lime green eyes glazed over with hurt.
"I already talked to Ofdensen and Crozier. After we announce our disbanding, Ofdensen will issue out a local ban on anything that has to with us from then on. General Crozier will send bodyguards for the time being as we go to where ever we want. I already know I'm going to Russia." Moira turned her head, facing a wall as she frowned, "I do care for Nathan… a lot, but I owe Ivan so much as well. Crozier pointed out that since I'm the leader, I'm the prime target. I'll be safer with Ivan than anywhere else; I really don't plan on going into hiding, just start over." She sighed, placing her fingers on her lips.
Runa rested a hand on her shoulder, trying her best to reassure her friend and leader, "It's all rights Moiras. We ares goings to be fines. I trusts you to respects your judgments, and it makes senses. Right every bodies?" After a short pause that lasted for a second of two, the others nodded and smiled sadly. "If you hurts… we hurts too."
Moira finally broke down and wept, which strangely didn't surprise anyone even though they never witness such a thing. In broken sobs, Moira thanked every one of them and apologized profusely for ruining what they had.
---End Flash Back---
The drummers remained quite as Pickles tried to grasp the concept, except for the Runa and her baby which Cherry left out purposely. The act was both selfish and selfless. It was noble how the five women put the safety of Dethklok before themselves when they were the ones first targeted, yet selfish that they didn't bother to even tell Dethklok, leaving the men hurt and confused for a very long time.
Pickles took hold of Cherry's chin and lifted it up, staring straight into her eyes with such a serious expression, Cherry felt there was no turning back. No doubt he was furious, hurt and what love he might have had for her was probably gone. Or so she thought. Her eyes widen as he slowly leaned into her, his lips brushing against hers.
"Stupid." He said with a hint of amusement. Before the drummer gone racer could say anything, whether it be an apology or retort, Pickles crashed his lips against her mouth, suddenly drugged with need and affection. With clumsy moves and giggles, he was able to lay her down fully on the couch as he rested above her, his lower half in between her legs. One of his hands slowly trailed up her tank, his fingers tickling her.
"No… stop! It tickles!" Cherry laughed, squirming a little, but she made no move to stop him.
Pickles eyes softened, "I have… just one question." He stopped at Cherry nodded for him to continue, "Do you still love me?"
A genuine smile graced her features as she brought her arms up to wrap around his neck, "I never stopped lovin' you. You were and are the best thang that's ever happened ta me besides the band. With Cancerous gone, yer all that I have, if you'll take me back." Fear flashed in her eyes.
That was all he needed to here as he continued to massage the hot flesh belonging to the woman beneath him. Sliding his hand underneath her strapless bra, he gave the mound a soft squeeze. "Cherry… I'm fucking pissed off about what you did, but I'm willing to forgive you and start over. Like Toki said a long time ago, there is more to you then what we expected. Perhaps we rushed things?" His thumb flicked over her hardening nipple. Cherry let out a low moan.
"Maybe we did. But please tell me we're not startin' from square one." She pleaded childishly as she arched up, her pelvis bumping into his. "Else I'm gonna wonder if you don't love me." She playfully pouted up at him. Pickles chuckled, and then dipped his head to nip at her bottom lip.
"I'm always going to love you."
Pickles spent the next few days hanging out in Daytona with Cherry when she wasn't on the track. He was tempted to withdraw his sponsorship from Jimmie Johnson but the female racer refused to let it happen. In the last five years, Pickles finally found his happy place again. Each night the two retaught themselves about each other's body, tenderly loving each other despite the urge to just release their pent up desire.
The fourth day had come and it was Pickles time to leave. Giving her a sweet kiss goodbye and a hug, he ran his hand through her hair. "I wish you could come home with me." He whispered while his eyes bore into hers.
The Texan woman shrugged, "Me too, but I gotta work. Promise you'll come visit?"
"Good. And here." She handed him a case about the size of two regular sized shoe boxes, "I called Ofdensen when ya weren't around. He ain't happy about it, since nothin's come up about Undertakers, Munkittrick or Van Winkler. He's says it probably fine if we uh… get together again. In here are a few articles 'bout the girls as well some letters to them… just in case this happened." She scowled a little, "I didn't put anythin' about Mo'ra's or Rune's predicament, so if the boys decide they wanna find 'em, give 'em a warnin, ok?" With that she kissed his cheek, "It was nice seein' you again, Pickles. This time we'll make it work."
Pickles mounted his bike and leaned on the bars, looking up at Cherry as her black knee length sundress rustled in the ocean breeze, her hair up in a bun. The two secured the box behind Pickle's seat with rope. It would be good until he got to the airport. "Yeah, we are. I'll call ya when I get done explaining things to them, just in case you have to warn the girls if things are as bad as I think." The two chuckled at that. Putting on his helmet, Pickles started his bike and drove away.
A man grunted as he got up from his bed as his phone vibrated continuously on his night stand. Checking the caller ID, the man rubbed his bare chest and answered. "Do you have any idea what time it is over here?" he stifled a yawn. Looking at the digital clock, his raised a brow. It read 3:15 AM.
"I know, but this couldn't wait for another three hours. There was contact between them." the voice on the other end said, "Pickles ran into Cherry in Florida. They seem to have got along and no doubt he'll tell the others. I just wanted you to know so you could probably prepare your wife."
The man chuckled, "Ah, I see. Thank you Ofdensen for your concern." Looking over his shoulder at the naked back of a black haired woman, he grinned, "But I doubt he would come looking for her. The man is full of stubborn pride."
Ofdensen sighed on the other line, "Ivan… you never know what he will do. He's unpredictable nowadays. I already told General Crozier, so he may drop by in a few days to check up on her."
Ivan rolled his eyes, "Very well. Have a nice day Ofdensen; I will speak to you some other time to discuss business. I thank you for your concern about my wife." With that he hung up. He was about to lay back down but jumped a little as two slender arms wrapped around his torso.
"Mmm, who was that?" the Russian speaking woman said in a sleepy voice. Ivan smiled and turned his head, planting a kiss on her temple.
"No one really. Just a business associate out of the country. Go back to sleep, you have a photo shoot in the mor...ning." he groaned as the petite woman ran her hands down to caress the appendage between his leg. Golden eyes danced with mischief as the woman grinned.
"But I'm feeling a bit… restless." She squeaked as Ivan pounced on her, straddling her naked body as hunger clouded his eyes.
"You're such a damn tease. But I suppose that's one of the reasons why I love you, Moira." He bent his head to capture her lips in a passionate kiss that took her breath away.
Hmm… It was… hard starting this chapter, but at least I got the ball rolling!
Thank you everyone for your support on Cancerousklok. If you haven't reviewed the last chapter(s), please do! I want to know your thoughts about it on there and not here. This is Reunionklok, so I only want reviews about it here. I don't want to get confused because (a.) I'm stupid, (b.) Since I take a shit load of medication because of my 'incident', I'm all fucked up in the head as it is, (c.) it makes it easier for me and (d.) did I mentioned that I was stupid?
Important Note: Because I am stupid, I'm going to probably take a good chunk of Cancerousklok down to do some tweaks and edit it so my retarded errors are abolished sometime after my birthday in March. It breaks my heart because I literally did finish on New Year's Eve, but I don't want people reading it until it's completely done. Bummer… I'll warn you about any major changes here, or you could just re-read it in all its glory :D Hell, re-review if you can. Makes me happy. I will not erase my author's notes on there though :) I'm weird that way.
So for now, please enjoy part two of Cancerousklok II: Reunion. Oh yes! I know nothing about NASCAR, its racers, and crap like that, so bare with me on all that XD If anyone can explain it to me, please do. I don't watch it because the first and last time I did; Dale Earnhardt Sr. crashed and died. So I think I gave him bad luck or something… ;-;