You Need Love

Later on that night (the 20th), when the house was dead and all the kids were silent tucked in their blankets with their parents, I made my way silently to the kitchen. My throat was parched and I couldn't stop thinking about what Bonzo had convinced me to buy Jimmy. It was obscene, ghastly! A Willie Dixon album with a small key shoved into the sleeve. My first worry was that it would warp the vinyl, but I immediately began to worry about what would ensue upon the finding of his stolen handcuffs key-- thank you, Bonzo. Would Jimmy introduce me and his handcuffs? Or his whips, not to mention? Curse him for being such a lady-killer, I thought.

The kitchen door burst open entirely unexpectedly and I jumped. It was Charlotte, and her groggy appearance told me she was only going to be semi-conscious long enough to make her peace. I handed her my now full cup of water but she rejected it with a wave of her hand. Sadly, she slumped against the counter and sighed, running a hand through her stunning blonde hair.

She shook her head, avoiding eye contact with me. "I've got to tell you," she sighed as she crossed her arms over her loose white night shirt, "I think zomzing fishy is going on."

I raised my glass to my mouth and pretended to drink. She knows about my Christmas present... "Yeah?" I breathed into my cup, fogging up the sides.

"Mmhmm, Yes, zomzing fishy." She turned to me. "You dont zink Jimmy es cheating on me, do you?"

I coughed up the bit of water in my mouth immediately. Impulsively, I replied naturally, "No."

"Ahh," she breathed, relieved. "Good, good." She eyed the floor. "I was suzpicious about zat Bianca. He likes her, I know."

Something inside me snapped. "He doesn't like her! Ha! Never! Why, he likes m-- you. I've never seen him with anyone else. Bianca? Preposterous. She's not even his type!"

"Zen what es his type?"

I hesitated to take a sip of water. "Beautiful women."

Charlotte only nodded before yawning and biding me goodnight. I growled and dug my fingers into my palm. Jimmy would be mine.

Black Country

Jimmy, as usual, had caught the Hong Kong flu again and had long since locked himself and his family in a room of the boathouse. Robert, seemingly inseparable from his family not unlike Jonesy, had taken his loved ones into town to, unbeknownst to Jimmy, shop for some antiques that might peak Jimmy's Christmas spirit. It was December 20th and the band had been operating from inside the cabin for little more than three days now. G, being the ever strict manager he was, had dropped a brick on the boys earlier that day when he told them it would be yet another Christmas away from their family.

"Jonesy's gonna worm out of it again," Robert had snapped, clutching at his wife Maureen. "He couldn't dare be separated from Mo back in '69 when we had out first tour. Grant, you bollocking fool, stop planning things on Christmas!"

Jimmy didn't seem to mind. In fact, he didn't even seem to care at all that Charlotte was even round now. He hardly cared that anyone was here; poor bloke always worked himself into some sort of flu since the days he'd toured with Christian Neil and the Crusaders. With all of the boys either attached to their wives' hips or curled up in a ball in their room, Bianca, Peter Grant, some other no-namers, and I were left to make casual, and not to mention awkward, conversation in the front room until one of us left, usually me. I spent a lot of time wondering the lands in those few days, usually alone unless one of the little-uns came up and took my hand and led me down a "magical" path.

With Robert and Jonsey out, and Jimmy's flock pestering about upstairs, Bianca and I were left to eat our breakfast with Bonzo, Patricia, and little Jason.

"Jason, Ja- don't do that please," Patricia snapped as her son began to drum on the table with his knife and fork. "Stop that please, Mummy says- Jason, stop. Don't make Mummy count."

"Ah, leave him be," Bonzo said without looking away from his eggs. "He's practicing."

"Practicing playing the table, per chance?" she retorted, eyeing Bonzo half seriously, half lovingly.

"No, Pat, playing your nerves," he laughed. I realized then and there how absolutely hilarious and contagious Bonzo was. His dry sense of humor, a result of having professional comedian parents as Robert had once explained to me, always brought a laugh to the mouths of those near him and his laughter was so intoxicating that it was near impossible not to laugh when he did. Everything about him was humorous and loud; as he shoveled a forkful of egg whites into his mouth, he studied Bianca and I across the table.

While Bianca fussed with Jason, I smiled back at Bonzo and he swallowed quickly. He drew a sleeve across his mouth, burped, and took a swig of his brandy-and-orange juice before addressing me in a friendly way. "You and Bia busy today?"

Bianca turned and stayed silent. I glanced at Patricia and replied, "I planned on heading home, actually. I'm getting real sick of being stuck in with nobody and a sick man upstairs. Plus, I really can't go for a walk, now can I? We got about 10, 15 centimeters of snow last night and I didn't bring my snowshoes."

"You're not going home," he said between obnoxious chews of egg and kipper. "Come with Pat and I. We're heading into Henley-on-Thames for some shopping. You too, Bianca."

"Oh, no, I'll stay here," she almost whispered. "In case Jimmy needs me."

"Well, why would Jimmy need you?" Patricia asked politely. "He has Charlotte. But if you don't care to join, you could stay behind with Jason. He seems to have taken a liking to you!"

"Sounds great, Patty, thanks!" Bianca cheered. "I have some things with EMI to finish up before I could even think of Christmas shopping."

"Well don't take too long," Bonzo said, "because I expect something pretty well thought." He grinned and wiped his mouth finally with a satin napkin before standing and taking his plate toward the kitchen.

After about an hour of getting ready, Bonzo, Pat and I all left in search of some Christmas presents for the group. I had many ideas reeling in my mind of what to get everyone, but two thoughts were most prominent in my mind: I had to get Jimmy a better gift than Charlotte and Bianca combined and I had no money. I would most likely browse for the day.

It was a short ride into town, but in the few minutes we had been stuffed in the backseat of a car, I had learned a lot more about Bonzo than I ever knew. He was born in Redditch ("It was just bloody Brum, but far better than that soddy place...") during the war and he had picked up drums at a young age. He could play the drums with his fingers ("Cut me fingers up real bad, but you don't see other drummers beatin' me at me own game!") and his first professional drumkit was a personal-made kit from Ludwig with extra large bass drums ("26 inches, thanks to that Vanilla Fudge drummer, Carmine Appice. Jimmy got them taken away from me-- 'too loud, I can't tell time!' Nancy.") and extra large drumsticks. He and Robert had started out in the black country making a living in Band of Joy until the day Jimmy invited them in the band. He and Robert went way back ("He was always more of a brother to me in those days than my own brother, Mick...") and they were still the best of friends. That was why Bonzo always tried to out-do himself every year with Planty's gifts.

As we neared town, Patricia began our own conversation about the hardships of tagging along with a busy-body band until we found a nice place to shop.

"What does Jimmy like?" I asked as we entered a small corner shoppe that doubled as a cafe.

Bonzo replied slowly without looking at me. "I don't really know the gent all too well, but I know he collects antiques and art. Planty says he likes biology and all that gag. What would he like from you?" He turned to eye me, a knowing and worried look in his eyes and Patricia disappeared into the trinkets. "You can't get him antiques or art or none of that crap. You need to get him something they--" he jabbed a thumb behind him at nobody in particular-- "can't get him."

"What might that be?"

Bonzo paused for a moment, examining a stitched pillow beside him before looking me in the eye again, intensely serious. "Well, we're going to have to go to a record store for that, now aren't we?"

2000 Views!

Thank you all, once again. I've reach 2000 views! Here is your picture; Jim's playing with a metal slide. The guitar sort of looks fake to me... Anyway, next goal is 3000! Spread my blog so you can see the fabulous rare picture I have for you all next! I will also be uploading very soon, so look forward to some more forbidden romance between Jenni and Jimmy! I've been reading Mick Wall's Led Zeppelin: When Giants Walked the Earth and its been very insightful for my future career, so I've been busy doing some self studying lately. Carry on!

1500 views!

Thanks, once again! Here's your rare photo. Next goal is 2000, and then 3000! Expect good pictures!

Two Tickets to Paradise

Upon arriving at the river-side cabin (so far west of Surrey that it was on the Henley-on-Thames River Terrace), Bonzo threw his luggage outside of the limo and tumbled out, his bourbon bottle held carefully in his hand. Robert stepped over him with his clodhoppers and exceptionally wide bellbottoms as if Bon was a muddy doormat and he didn't want to ruin his hem by stepping on it. He clapped and flipped his hair behind his shoulder before turning to the limo, hands clasped together and a whimsical smile on his face, and called to Jimmy.

"It's splendid, perfect for the weekend." He sighed and made approving noises as he made his way to the cabin door. The cabin itself was that of luxury. More of a log cabin, it was something out of a rich magazine. Two levels, backed by a thicket of beautiful field maples, with large open windows every few inches, the cabin was more than perfect for a weekend get-away. The wood looked aged with Hungarian-Swedish style and a bit of Irish flare, but what was really amazing was the German architecture. It was something straight out of the rolling hills near Austria. Judging by the outside, the bridge house could easily and comfortably fit over four families.

As it seemed, I was the only one dreading the weekend. The entire ride to River Terrace, Jimmy and Charlotte, his wife, had been infatuated and I was jealous. She had "gotten a chill" from the horrid winter weather outside and Jimmy had gladly given her his jacket. And to think he held my hand! Then again, it probably meant nothing, but-- Oh! how I wish it did! Poor Bianca had promised in advance to pretend not to be involved with Jim.

"Why am I even going, then?" she had snapped. "I have work to do at Abbey Road!" Plus, she had added, Daphne couldn't come with. Jimmy had suggested Daphne go house hunting and spend some time at her mother's, which Daphne agreed would be a good weekend.

"Fine, stay and see what I care, love," Jimmy had teased. Eventually, urged by his sarcasm and aloofness, Bianca had decided to go. Now, it was obvious she regretted it, especially the part where her boyfriend was dating a sexy French model with the cutest accent you'd ever heard. Jealousy gripped more than me today.

After getting situated inside the beautiful cabin, and having placed dibs on rooms, Bonzo and Patricia disappeared with their kids, as did Charlotte Martin and Jimmy and Mo and John Paul. Robbie, Maureen, their kids Carmen and Karac, G, Bianca, some other friends of the guys and I were the only ones left in the front room, before the Plant family excused themselves as well. The lot we were on was so large that the four families could be exploring the lot without ever bumping into each other.

Sighing of boredom while lounging in the comfy front room, G went on about his tale of a fight between him and some producer. He was the most un-professional professional manager I had met, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he loved the boys. They were his family and it almost brought a tear to my eye seeing him interact with them in a casual environment.

Getting up and leaving the cigar-smoke filled living room, I slipped outside into the snow and rain. Mud flecked snowbanks walled the drive and the tree branches dripped with melting snow. It was a sore sight for tuned eyes. Plunging my hands deep into my pea-coat pockets, I made my way toward the river silently, singing a song I had just heard in my head. As my boots crunched in the snow to the beat of the song, I began humming and, eventually, belting out the lyrics to the frigid river.

"No more Mister Nice Guy
No more Mister Clean
No more Mister Nice Guy
They say he's sick, he's obscene"

 

"Alice Cooper?" came Jimmy's voice from behind me. Startled, I turned to see he and Charlotte arm-in-arm and little Scarlet in Jimmy's grasp making their way down toward the river. "He's thinking about taking the Starship off our hands. Peter's considering it, but we haven't gotten the dates for next year yet. Hell, I don't even know what we're having for supper tonight, or what I'm getting lil' Scar for Christmas." Putting a hand to his mouth to guard it from Scarlet, he added, "Or what Saint Nick is getting her."

"Better start considering," I said, trying not so sound bossy, "because Christmas is in-- what?-- three weeks? Nice to see you again, Charlotte, I haven't spoken to you since Thanksgiving."

Upon reaching me, we hugged and she smiled at Jimmy. "Zis is so bootyful, Zames. Sank you so much for renting zis place-- a get-away iz jost what Scarolet and I needed. And you, too, Jenni. 'Ow 'ave you bean?"

After a second of recovering from her accent, I grinned at Charlotte and replied, "Oh, I've been fantastic, Charly, thanks for asking. Do you like the property?" I directed the question at Jimmy and he gave me the widest smile I'd ever seen from him.

"It's breath-taking. Freezing, but worth it. We'd better head in soon, My Lady. Scar may catch cold." He removed his right arm from Charlotte's waist and adjusted the scarf around Scarlet's neck. She looked zoned-out but absolutely adorable, which was inevitable for a two-year-old. With a final smile at me and a wink, Jimmy wrapped his arm around Charlotte's waist again and they headed back up toward the cabin.

Entirely unexpectedly, it began sprinkling and the warm rain melted the snow just enough for mud to form at my feet. Sighing, I turned to head in when, immediately, the clouds darkened and it began to pour. "Motherfuck! Really?" I called to the Heavens, assessing my soaked clothes. Hurriedly, I sprinted up the muddy hill toward the cabin and saw Bonzo and Robert doing the same with their wives and kids nestled under their arms. Reaching the door first, I held it open for the families and they thanked me quickly, shaking off in the mudroom. Leave it to England to snow three hours earlier and downpour now.

Hair of the Dog

The kitchen was in shambles and Leenin was bubbling about ruined pots in the corner when Jimmy returned. Half an hour ago, this room had been transformed into a ring for a devastating row with Robert and just the mere sight of broken pottery on the floor brought fresh anger to Jimmy's mind. He wasn't mad at Robert per say, but he was mad at what his supposed mate had said. Calmly, Jimmy scooped the shattered tea cup he had aimed at Robert's head into his hand and set it on the island counter, collapsing over it. Robert was right. That's why he had gotten so furious; he knew Robert was right.

"Bianca's going to find out, Jim!" he had spat venomously at the cafe table near the window, sipping his Earl Grey. "I thought you had a head on your shoulders from day one but I suspect no longer!"

"Mate, she'll never find out if you just keep your bloody cake-hole shut up for once! This isn't the first time I've been in this predicament, sakes!"

"So if I were to bonk Bianca," Robert had wagered, sailing uncharted territory, "you would make the argument that you had Jenni? Mate, you're throwing your love away! And you're married! You're positively bonkers!"

This had been when he had thrown the tea-cup straight for Robert's golden waves, missing by, ironically, a hair. The memory of his blood curdling and boiling was enough to bring it all back. "You stay away from Bianca! And if you tell Charlotte, I swear on the Queen I'll kick you out of this band! Jenni is just a temporary fascination that concerns you none at all, so never you mind my personal business!"

"Jenni's fond of you, you cunt! You're playing her and if you do for much longer, I'll tell Bianca!" Robert knew he was pushing the limit now.

Furious, Jimmy had made a point to throw a tantrum, and, more importantly, every cooking instrument in the kitchen. He emptied the Lazy Susan on the island, scattered the pans that had been hanging on the pot rack, and threw just about everything he could get his hands on toward Robert. Sure, the breakfast of cocaine probably had a lot to do with Jimmy's row with Robert, but he was furious even after the out-break.

Why had he made the mistake of telling Robert he had held Jenni's hand anyway? It wasn't that great an accomplishment, but he just had to brag. Now the kitchen was ruined, his friendship with his best mate was in question, and the possibility of Robert giving up on the band was ever looming. Moving the band into the house was a terrible idea! They were all sick of each other in the first place; not mad, just tired of seeing the same person every day. Tensions were high and Jimmy needed a way out. For the time being, it seemed Jenni was his escape, and although he knew he didn't really like her like he did Bianca or Charlotte, she was fun. All he knew was that if he wanted to keep the arguments to a minimum and keep the peace, he couldn't tell anyone about his exploits with Jenni ever again.

He raised an eyebrow at the idea of a secret lover living in the same house as he\im and his girlfriend. Dare he say he was turned on? The idea was so... devious, interesting...

Robert entered the kitchen with his fingers hooked on his back pockets. Biting his cheeks and looking at the floor ahead of him, he coolly hesitated before speaking. "Look, Pagey, I'm--"

"No, I'm sorry," Jimmy said first. "I over-reacted. I know you're right, I just have a hard time accepting it. I don't want to play Jenni, and I don't want to cheat on Bianca. I want to be there for Charlotte and Scarlet too, but I'm doing the best I can. I haven't seen Scar for about three months now, and even Bon gets to see Jason about five times a week. I- I just can't right now. I'm stressed and this band has taken a lot out of me. But I don't regret it. You're my best mate and I'm sorry I almost hit you with pottery."

There was a pause and Robert laughed to the ground, his blonde locks covering his face. He grinned up at Jimmy and responded, "Yeah, well, you've terrible aim."

"I'm a guitarist, not a mercenary," Jimmy laughed back. While Jimmy searched the room for a conversation pick-up, Robert came over and extended his hand, which Jimmy slapped away. Strongly, he pulled Robert into a tight, brotherly embrace and patted his best friend's back lovingly. "I love you, man."

"Don't get all nancy on me," Robert chuckled. Over Jimmy's shoulder, he added, "Hey, Leenin, we're heading out. Think you can pick up this kitchen on your own?"

The cook groaned while Robert and Jimmy separated. "Take care of her," was all Robert said to Jimmy. Who "her" was was a toss-up.

For My Newest Follower, Maggie

 

 

 

"Jenni... You're mine." He says that, I swear.

 

In celebration of my newest follower, back by (VERY) popular demand, I introduce my husband to the world; Jimmy Page's son, James Jr. Our age difference is pretty acceptable-- he's only 10 years older than me. He loves me very much and his dad and I are tight. Excuse me while I go cry in my pillow out of sadness, will you?