A/N: Normally, I'd put this in the actual notes box, but I have a couple different reasons for putting it at the very beginning of the chapter this time.

First and foremost, I should've done this with the last chapter, but I forgot. Due to this site forcing one to delete chapters rather than truly have the ability to edit them, I'm including a link to the bass I've actually got, which really is a Raiden Special-4 from Schecter's Diamond Series. That's where the majority of the details come from, although a couple, such as the Crimson Red Burst Satin (CRBS) body color, ebony fretboard and Gothic cross inlays, come from the Hellraiser Extreme-4, which is also from the Diamond Series. The color of the inlays (pearl instead of mother-of-pearl) are the same as the Ashley Purdy Outlaw from Dean.

Unfortunately, y'all will have to use your imaginations or Google the very last bass. I'm guessing that ever since BVB was released last October, Dean stopped selling the Ashley Purdy Outlaw. I just checked the link I had bookmarked, and it was no longer available on their site. Not surprising since trends change. *shrugs*

Link to Raiden Special-4: http://www.schecterguitars.com/bass/raiden-special-4-detail
Link to Hellraiser Extreme-4: http://www.schecterguitars.com/bass/hellraiser-extreme-4-2013-12-11-detail

Anywhore, this is my second reason for putting my author's note up top. I want y’all to keep in mind that whenever Ash is talking to his grandparents, or Nix is talking to her folks, they're speaking Cherokee. I don’t actually know Cherokee myself, so the conversation is written in English. Still, if it were talking place in Reality, everything they say would actually be in Cherokee.

Now, time to end this ungodly long author's note and get on with the fuckin' story!
~Cyn



Over the next couple of weeks, Phoenix saw more of Ash than she ever wanted to without being his lover. Every night after the band’s shows, he and CC would go to a nearby bar or club and drink till they could barely get back to the bus without a wheelchair. While the latter would occasionally come back with what he considered a hot girl, it didn’t happen on a nightly basis like it did with his partner in crime. Every night, it was the same scenario, same loud moans, grunts, and screams from the back room, just a different slut.

Sadly, tonight was no exception, and Phoenix was sick to Death of it. Growling and grumbling under her breath, she crawled out of her bunk, which was below Jake’s and across from Jinxx’s, grabbed her bass, phone, and earbuds, and headed out to the living area. The rest of the guys might be used to and able to put up with this shit, but she’d be damned if she was and would, especially with her insomnia driving her insane again.

After getting herself settled on the couch, she got herself wired up so that the cord of her earbuds ran up her back and was hidden by her crimson-streaked-raven hair. She got the earbuds settled comfortably in her ears before making sure the bass boost on her phone was active. After years of practice, she’d learned and mastered many of her favorite songs, including Mötley Crüe’s Dr. Feelgood, but she needed bass boost while learning a riff. The song she was currently learning, which was actually The Legacy, was no exception. She had to listen to the original and play along, but its quick tempo stumped her sometimes, and she wasn’t about to ask Ash for his help.

The man might be one of her biggest influences and had even trusted her with his bass, even though it was obviously hard for him, but otherwise, he was an ass. Most times, he wouldn’t speak to her, and if he did and was sober, he was generally a jackass to her. When he was drunk, most of what came out of his mouth was sexist, insulting, and degrading, and she hated it. Jinxx swore the bassist only acted—and talked to her—like that because of the same bad experience that resulted in his trust issues, and that he was just trying to avoid a repeat of that. To Phoenix, that was no excuse for his behavior and why, despite being one of her biggest influences, she’d kidney-punched him several times. She hated having to do that to him, but she hated his behavior and the way he talked to her far more.

“What do you want?” she snapped after her third failed attempt, noticing the man who irked her so standing by the counter in the kitchenette.

“Would you like some help with that?” Ash countered, uncrossing his arms and taking a step closer.

“No, thanks. I’ll figure it out on my own…eventually. I always do.” She tried to turn him down as politely as possible, despite all but hating him.

“Listen, Nix. I know I’ve been an ass to you lately,” he said, sounding almost desperate. “Consider this my way of making it up to you.”

“I said, no thanks,” Phoenix growled. “It’s gonna take a helluva lot more than that to even begin making it up.”

Without waiting for him to say anything else, she rose from the couch, he bass hanging from her right shoulder by the strap, and stormed into the bunk room. How dare he think that just a few kind words, an “I’m sorry”, and an offer to help her learn the bass riff to The Legacy would be all it took to get back in her good graces? After all he’d put her through the past couple weeks, he was lucky she didn’t have her buck knife on her, or she’d have emasculated him right then and there.



Ash wasn’t surprised that she’d had a negative reaction to his offer to help her, as well as his apology, but he honestly hadn’t expected it to be that bad. He’d only been such an ass to her the past couple weeks because he was highly attracted to her and, afraid that the past might repeat itself, he didn’t want to fall for her. Kina’d really done a number on him, in more ways than one, and here he was taking it out on an innocent young woman who didn’t even know what’d happened. Both his overly-protective grandmother and dearly deceased mother would be highly disappointed in him if they knew what he’d done.

Knowing he was likely to get blessed out by her for his stupidity sooner or later, he decided to go ahead and give his grama a call. If anyone besides one of the guys could help him rectify this mess, it was Wild Fire, and he wanted to go ahead and get blessed out now rather than later. The only catch was that he had to speak Cherokee, something no one on the bus knew he could do, because her English sucked worse than a five-dollar whore.

“Well, hello, Ashley. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” his grama asked.

“I fucked up, Grammy, and I need your help,” he told her.

“Language, Ashley,” she scolded him.

“Sorry, Grammy,” Ash said sheepishly, feeling like the young boy he hadn’t been in years.

“Well, tell me what you did wrong,” Wild Fire sighed.

“You’re gonna be mad at me for this, but…” the bassist trailed off.

After taking a deep breath, he went into a detailed explanation of everything that’d happened in the past couple weeks, starting at the moment he’d found out about Phoenix being hired. His grama already knew that he slept around when he wasn’t in a serious relationship, and although she didn’t like it, she knew it was part of his lifestyle. Wild Fire listened intently the entire time he poured his heart out, making appropriate murmurs when necessary to show she’d heard him, but never interrupting. It was during times like these that he was glad he was so close to her, as well as his grampa, War Hawk, and that her English was horrible.

“I’m sure you know I’m disappointed in you, Ashley. I raised you better than that,” she said when he concluded his tale.

“I know, I know, Grammy. I’m sorry,” Ash answered.

“It’s not me you need to apologize to, but this young lady you’ve hurt. Phoenix, you said her name was, yes?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s her name,” he confirmed, nodding even though she couldn’t see him. “But I already tried right before I called you, and she looked like she wanted to unman me.”

“And she probably did; I know I would’ve,” Wild Fire chuckled. “But I also taught you that actions speak louder than words, as well as to be a gentleman, did I not?”

“You did, Grammy,” the bassist conceded.

“Winning Phoenix’s favor—and possibly love, if that’s what you’re going for—will take time,” the elderly squaw continued. “Be a gentleman, do little things for her, show her you’re not really the jackass you’ve been.”

“But I don’t want her love, Grammy,” Ash snapped. “You know how bad Kina hurt me, and I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Maybe it’s not her love you want, but her love you need, then. If only to help you heal and move past that.”

Shortly thereafter, as he began to hear rustling coming from the bunk room, the bassist said his goodbyes and ended his phone call home. He’d never told his bandmates he could speak Cherokee, always preferring to make phone calls to and take them from Wild Fire and War Hawk in private, and he wasn’t about to now. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being bilingual, as it was something not a lot of people could master. It was just that they and the fans already knew so much about him that, aside from details of his childhood, he wanted something special to keep to himself. He doubted that even Phoenix would become an exception to that rule, despite how attracted to her he was, if he were ever able to get in her good graces. That thought caused Ash to sigh sadly as he wondered if he’d ever be able to manage that, considering how royally he’d already fucked up.

There was no way in Hell he was getting any sleep anytime soon, and he was glad they had a day off again as he stretched out on the couch. He folded his hands behind his head as he got lost in his thoughts, knowing it’d be a while before any of the others actually got up, even if they were stirring now. None of them ever got up this early in the morning when they didn’t have to because they were night owls, not early birds. What he didn’t know was that the rustling was being caused by Phoenix, who’d overheard his phone call…and she’d understood every word he’d said.

* * *

After the phone call with his grama, which he still didn’t know Phoenix’d overheard, Ash did his best to show her that he really was a gentleman. He was always opening doors, as well as pulling out and pushing in chairs, for her like he’d been raised to do, which tended to garner a mixed response. She always looked thankful and flattered that he did those things for her, but there was a wariness in her eyes as she wondered what his intentions were, and even a hint of embarrassment. The guys, with the exception of Jinxx, ribbed him about his change in behavior, too.

One afternoon when they were just hanging out on a day off, Phoenix’s phone started ringing off the hook. Andy tried to stop her from answering it since they were in the middle of a movie, but gave up when she insisted that she had to because it was her cousin. Sighing, he paused the movie, both so she could hear and so they wouldn’t miss anything, and everybody but the bassist left for bathroom breaks and whatnot.

To give her as much privacy as he could, he pulled out his own phone and started going through his Twitter notifications. He figured that with as many people tagging him in Tweets for one reason or another on a daily basis as there were, it was the perfect activity to keep him entertained for a little while. So engrossed in some of the crazy—and even disturbing—things the fans tagged him in was he that he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to her…until he heard her gasp. It was when he heard that sharp intake of breath, as well as the surprising slew of Cherokee that followed, that Ash looked up to see her beautiful lavender eyes wide and her delicate, yet strong hand covering her gaping mouth.

You okay? he mouthed, immediately concerned about her.

Phoenix just shook her head, more Cherokee spewing from her mouth, and he noticed a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Nix?” CC asked when he returned and noticed her crying.

“I dunno, Chuppy,” the bassist answered, even though he could understand every sobbed and stuttered word coming out of her mouth.

Give it up, Ashley. I know you speak Cherokee, she mouthed, glaring as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Ash gasped as he realized that she’d overheard—and understood—his phone call with Wild Fire a few weeks ago, but had pretended she hadn’t for his sake. One-by-one, the rest of the guys returned, immediately shocked and concerned when they saw her crying. He just kept his arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders, gently rubbing his hand up and down her arm in a comforting motion. He was shocked when she wrapped her arms around his waist and started sobbing into his chest the second she ended her phone call. Still, the bassist wrapped both arms tightly around her and rested his cheek on top of her head, gently rocking her back and forth as he tried to calm her down. He even sang an old song to her that his grama’d sang to him right after his parents’ deaths that was entirely in Cherokee.

“Phoenix, what’s wrong?” Jinxx asked softly when she finally calmed down.

“M-my g-grama’s dead, a-and I h-have n-nowhere to g-go,” she stuttered, forgetting that she was still speaking Cherokee.

“What?” they asked in unison since they didn’t understand her.

“She said that her grama died, and now she doesn’t have a place to live,” Ash translated, still rocking her. “And that’s not true, my steel magnolia.”

“How’d you know what she said?” Andy asked, shock coloring his voice.

“Because, unbeknownst to you guys, I’m bilingual,” he answered. “I grew up speaking Cherokee and English, mostly Cherokee when I was at home.”

“Why Cherokee at home?” Jake asked curiously.

“Because my grandparents’ English sucks worse than a five-dollar whore,” the bassist chuckled, momentarily switching to Cherokee.

“Ashley!” Phoenix gasped admonishingly, trying not to smile as she sat up enough to slap his chest.

“What’d he say?” CC asked, sounding both curious and confused.

“My guess is that it wasn’t nice, if Phoenix reacted like that,” Jinxx chuckled.

“Not in the least! He said his grandparents’ English sucks worse than a five-dollar whore!” she translated.

“Well, it’s true!” he said defensively as the guys erupted into laughter.

“Only you…would know…Ash,” Andy gasped out between chuckles.

“Anyway, what you said about not having anywhere to go now…that’s not true,” Ash said once everyone calmed down, his attention back on Phoenix.

“But it is. My aunt, uncle, and cousins won’t let me come back for anything but to get my stuff,” she told him sadly. “They hate me because I’m half-Scotch.”

“The bastards,” he growled. “And you do, too. As long as you want to, you’re welcome to move out to California and live with me.”

“Ashley, I couldn’t ask that of you,” the bass tech breathed as the others gasped in shock at his selfless offer.

“You’re not asking; I’m offering. There’s a difference,” he insisted. “Besides, my house is big and lonely with just my dogs, Tokyo and Killer, for company, and it’s better than being homeless, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Phoenix agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly. “But you’re not gonna make any moves on me, are you?”

“Not unless you want me to, lest Wild Fire come after me with a switch again,” the bassist swore, raising his right hand as if taking an oath.

“Who’s Wild Fire?” everyone asked in unison, confused.

“My grandmother,” Ash answered, grimacing and shuddering. “Call your cousin back and tell them you’ll be there to get your stuff after tour ends next week. You’re moving to Hollywood, baby!”

Notes