#Especially when you’re no longer a fifteen year old just enjoying the story versus as a twenty five year old who’s somewhat media literate

[we-are-not-afraid-92]

not me in the middle of my break remembering how dirty they did my boy sander cohen in burial at sea

[shes-soparticular]

Slow Burn

 We just dance backwards into each other Trying to keep our feelings secretly covered You touch me and it’s almost like we knew That there will be history

 A/N: So I’ve already done a couple of “Shawn & Alex” one-shots that people have seemed to enjoy. Therefore, I wanted to do a longer origin story. This is part 1 of ????. Let’s just say SEVERAL.

Word Count: 1903

     The first time he lays eyes on her, his heart stops. It’s so cliché, he knows that, but he’ll swear for the rest of his life that this was love at first sight. Even if he didn’t understand in that moment. Even if he hadn’t the slightest clue of what this woman, this stranger, would come to mean to him. That this girl across the bar in her vintage Tom Petty t-shirt, peeling the label off of her Amstel while saying something to earn a hearty laugh from the bartender, that this girl would become his entire world. Right now, all he knows for certain is that there’s something about her that makes it impossible for him to stop staring. Maybe it’s the way her hair frames her face in wild waves, the kind that can only come from rolling out of bed late. It could be the sound of her laugh, floating all the way across the room, soft and warm. When she turns and holds his gaze, her eyes locking with his, his breath catches in his chest. He’s never seen eyes like hers, the way they’re searching his, as if seeing deeper than the surface. Nervously and with a blush crawling across his cheeks, he looks away, pretending to be busy with his phone. But he can still feel her eyes on him and he can’t resist looking up once more. She cocks one eyebrow in his direction and nods her head to the side, motioning for him to come over to her. Again, his heart stops. Why in the hell is he this worked up over some girl across the bar? Some girl he’s never even seen before? He desperately wants to play it cool, wants to have the upper hand and pretend he wasn’t gawking at her like a teenaged boy. But his feet carry him in her direction before he can stop himself and all he can keep repeating internally is not to make a fool out of himself. Be cool, be cool, be cool. When he makes it to her side, she smiles up at him from her bar stool, patting the one next to her. Her lips part and he can’t stop from considering what they’d feel like against his own. “If you’re going to keep staring at me, you might as well join me for a drink.” There’s a playful attitude in her voice, attached to an American accent. He can’t quite place it off hand, but he’d guess she’s from the North. Maybe not that far from the border, considering the way she pronounces some of her o’s. It’s not until her eyes start to widen that he realizes she’s waiting for him to speak. Why can’t he think of a single thing to say? What the hell happened to his backbone in the last five minutes?

              Finally, his mouth manages to reconnect to his brain, his hand coming up to rub at his shoulder. A nervous tick he hopes she doesn’t notice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to stare. I thought I recognized you.” Good save, Shawn. “Have we met before?” He settles on to the seat next to her, their knees practically touching.

              “I don’t think we have,” She smiles brightly at him, “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know who you are.” She starts to hum Stitches and he can feel his cheeks grow even hotter. Exactly what he wants, for this beautiful girl to associate him with his fifteen-year-old self. She reads the look on his face and lets out a flustered laugh. “Oh god, was that out of line? I love that song, I swear I wasn’t being pretentious.” She looks genuinely sheepish, a pink hue advancing across her own cheeks. “I should have hummed Lost in Japan instead, way to go, Alex.” There’s a flash of vulnerability to her and it puts him at ease.

              “Oh, so you’re a fan, Alex?” He says this in more of a self-satisfied tone than he intended, with an air of coltish arrogance. It’s clear that she picks up on it, but only smiles above her beer bottle before throwing back the last of it.

              “You could say that I’m recently converted,” She momentarily turns her eyes to the bartender, motioning for another round. “But I’m actually here in a professional capacity. You could say that you’re my boss, in a way.” Okay, if he wasn’t intrigued already, now she’s really gotten every last bit of his attention. His eyebrow raises, waiting for further explanation. “I’m Alex Marron, Travel Operations Manager.” Shawn really doesn’t want to admit to her that he has no clue what that means. At the end of the day, as long as he makes it on stage, that’s the only part of tour he can truly be held accountable for. He lets everyone else handle the nitty gritty with their capable hands. Which, yes, he feels a little guilty for…especially now in this moment as he struggles to make sense of what she means.              

              “I’m going to make an asshole out of myself, so I apologize in advance, but…please explain?” His question is accompanied by a nervous laugh, the next round of beers arriving just at the right second. Grabbing his, he takes a long drink, praying it will calm his nerves.

              “I’m here on behalf of the company that handles all of the logistical matters for your tour – hotels, busses, private event space, location scouting.” She licks her lips and again and he loses his train of thought for a second. “I’m just here to make sure you all get from point a to point b without any headaches. In a nutshell. Sort of assisting Cez in that way.”

              He nearly coughs on his beer, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them. “Meaning you’ll be joining us on tour the entire leg?” So he’d be seeing her every day? For the next two months? Great. Plenty of time to make a bigger fool of himself.

              “And beyond. As of now, I’m contracted for all of 2019.” She clinks her beer bottle against his before tipping it back to her lips. “Now, I just need to not fuck up.” Her last statement is sighed under her breath, an anxious grain to her voice.

              “I don’t know you, yet, Alex…but I think you’ll kill it.” He reaches up to give her playful, faux punch to the shoulder…and as soon as he does it, he kicks himself internally. Why not just call her slugger, too? God, for a heartthrob his game was sadly lacking. Granted, now that it’d been made clear she was essentially on his staff (he hated referring to anyone that way), it wasn’t like he could really pursue anything with her anyways. If he even had a chance to begin with, he hates to just assume as much.

              “Thanks, coach.” Her laugh has this tender quality to it, the type that tells him she’s laughing with him and not at him. That this is simply the creation of their first inside joke. If only he knew then how many nights they’d spend wrapped in one another, laughing about everything and nothing at all. The feeling of her giggles vibrating through her throat and into his chest. “You know, I find hotel bars kind of depressing. Would you…want to come somewhere with me? I mean, I don’t know if you’re allowed to just – “  He cuts her off so fast that he even surprises himself.

              “Let’s go.”

                He follows her through the streets of Amsterdam, hood up and sunglasses on even though the sun has long since dipped in the sky. He’s already given in to hours of photos that day and right now, he just wants to be a normal guy trying to get to know a normal girl. It appears as though the world is willing to at least grant him that simple wish and no one pays them much attention as they wind through the cobblestone streets. They make idle chatter along the way, pointing out different sights and bringing up anecdotes of their prior travels within the city. He learns quickly that Alex is nearly as well traveled as he is, except of course that she’s had the time and ability to actually experience the destinations she’s been to. He can’t stop from picturing himself in her narratives, following her eagerly as he does now. Her hair flowing behind her, smiling over her shoulder at him, the final vestiges of sunlight reflecting off of her skin. Eventually, they find their way inside of a quaint coffee shop, the combination of marijuana smoke and espresso beans filling the air. They find a table in the back and it isn’t long until they’re one shared joint and two cups of coffee in. Simultaneously loosened up and caffeine buzzed, they both talk excitedly about whatever passing thoughts occur to them. She admits she hasn’t seen all of the Harry Potter movies; he pretends to get up to leave. He admits he hasn’t heard the latest Hozier album; she pretends to choke on her coffee. They cover topics from their favorite childhood memories to their biggest high school embarrassments to the excruciating details of their first times. He learns that she’s a few years older hence being far enough along in her career to manage operations for such a large-scale tour. Although, she swears she lucked out a bit when her superior went on maternity leave and that normally she probably wouldn’t be traveling along for the length of tour but that her company was courting Island for a larger contract. She reveals that she calls Chicago home but only roots for Boston’s sports teams. He cringes outwardly at her mention of the Bruins, which earns his first ever eye roll from her (of which he’ll go on to receive thousands). There are a couple of heated disputes about pancakes versus waffles and who the best Marvel character is. Ultimately, the conversation settles between them as if they’re old friends, picking up where they left off. Somewhere between competing to see who can attract the attention of the resident cafe cat and who can make a better smoke ring, closing time approaches and they’re cast back out on to the street. It’s after one in the morning and Shawn knows he’s going to catch some flack for staying out late the night before rehearsals, especially with someone that was essentially a complete stranger. Albeit, it doesn’t feel appropriate to call her that anymore. Not now that he knows she threw up in her locker the first day of freshman year and that she lost her virginity in a Dairy Queen storeroom. There’s something about her that makes him feel oddly comfortable, peaceful even. They joke back and forth on the walk back to hotel, observing the oddities of Amsterdam in the moonlight. There are several close calls where one or both of them is nearly taken out by a bike, despite the late hour, and when they finally stumble back into the hotel his sides ache from laughing. He insists on walking her all the way to her room (he is a gentleman, after all), and when her door finally closes and cuts him off from the little smirk on her face, he doesn’t stop picturing it the rest of the night. It’s the first image in his head when he wakes the next morning and right then and there? He knows he’s fucking in for it.

 Follow Up A/N: Admittedly, I don’t know a lot about what goes into tour management. However, I’ve managed leisure tour operations for a large company (you know, where they send busloads of teens around Europe or retirees to the Grand Canyon) and there’s a lot of damn work that goes into it. So I find it feasible there could be someone devoted to just those logistics on a massive concert tour. But basically don’t @me with a “Cez doesn’t need help like that” – you’re probably right. Just suspend your disbelief for me :)

 ALL FEEDBACK IS SUPER DUPER APPRECIATED. Tell me what you liked, what you didn’t like, what you want to see, etc. I’ve also been VERY BAD at keeping track of who wants to be added to a taglist for my work, so please let me know if you want to be added and I’ll actually do it this time.

LAST NOTE – I know the timeline I’m setting here kind of retcons things I’ve mentioned in one or two of the one-shots. I’ll probably edit those at some point to fix that up.