#it just makes the mr bonzo bit so much funnier

[pyrotechnicdarts]

i fully believe that when gwendolyn bouchard tried to blackmail lena for her job and got a promotion for it she 100% thought she was going to finally get to join her boss’s cool secret mafia that was using this whole “supernatural research organization” as a cover. she thought she was sooo cool for girlbossing her way into the mob only to get Mr Bonzo’d

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Four

**The clock keeps ticking. :-)  Thanks for reading!  And thank you to @ladygrange for once again holding my hand. <3**

“Wherever you want, little Natalie Grace.  I’ll leave it all up to you.”  

She held her breath as Robert cupped her face, the corner of his mouth beginning the curve she’d memorized.  

“Little Natalie Grace.”  

His voice was a whisper on her lips, and she swallowed, barely parting them.

“What do you want, love?  What do you … want?”

Nat awoke with a start, sure she heard the words echoing through the room.  It was just a dream.  Dropping back into the pillow, she expelled a long breath.  She could still smell him, feel his warmth against her chin and mouth.  She stared at the ceiling, gently pounding her clenched fists into the bedding.  What am I doing?  Her hand snaked through her damp, tangled hair.  Apparently, you’re dreaming about Robert Plant.  Good Lord.  She rolled her eyes as she rolled out of bed, snapping up her robe with a flourish.  Time to get on with the day.  Shuffling toward the door, she could make out the clatter of plates and the tinkle of crystal.  Susan was up.  It’s probably past noon.  She clasped the doorknob, certain that with a twist of it, the inquisition would commence.  She wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, you and Mr. Plant certainly got along last night.”

“Good morning to you, too, Aunt Sue.”  Nat pulled her robe tighter as her eyes acclimated to the bright haze enveloping the hotel.

“There’s some tea on the coffee table.  I was just making breakfast.”

She snickered as her aunt drained champagne into what appeared to be a few tablespoons of orange juice.  “Nice breakfast.  You don’t let up, do you?”

“Hair of the dog, girl.  It’s the only way.  I was out late.”  Susan swizzled the thin, glass rod in her oversized goblet.  “Plus, Christian thinks I drink too much.  He’s probably right, so I’m taking advantage of our little getaway.”

“When are the renovations on the chalet going to be done?”  Natalie gazed through the large window next to the dining table.  She could barely make out the mountains in the distance.  

“He says another week, give or take.”  As she topped off her concoction with a final splash of wine, Susan smiled coyly.  “But more importantly, what were you and Robert chatting about so quietly?”

You knew it was coming.  Nat glanced back to her aunt.  “I’m sorry, what?”  

“You heard me.  Spill it.”

Natalie poured some tea and reclined on the sofa, kicking her feet up next to the tray.  “There’s not much to spill, really.  Just this and that.  He was curious about school and life here.  Pretty much generic stuff.”  She took a tiny sip, recoiling as the steaming liquid seared her tongue.  “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know, idle curiosity, I suppose.  Isn’t that the phrase he used last night?” Susan purred, plopping next to her.  “It’s not every day you get to spend the evening with rock stars.”  She splayed her hand, admiring the newly acquired glittering stone on her finger.  “Well, maybe it is for me, but-”

“But what?”  Nat interjected, sensing something vaguely sinister in her aunt’s tone.

“Well, he just seemed, uh, rather taken with you.”

Natalie crinkled her nose as the meaning set in.  “You’re crazy, Aunt Sue.  I’m barely fifteen years old.  The man’s old enough to be my …”

“Older brother,” Susan finished, tipping back her glass.  “You know, darling, when I was your age, I was-“

“So you’ve told me.  Many times.  But that’s not really … who I am.”  Nat blew on her tea, hoping for a change of subject.

“Ugh, you’re just like your mother.”  Susan sighed dramatically, downing the rest of her cocktail.  “So boring.”

“You missed your calling.  You should have been an actress.”

“Oh, honey,” she replied breezily, “I am one.”

Natalie snorted.  “What time did you get back?”

Pursing her lips, Susan tapped her nails together.  “Hmm, I’m not really sure.  Maybe around three?  It was a bit fuzzy, but they were still going strong.  Lots of stamina … particularly your man.”

“My man?  Jesus Christ, Sue.”  

“I’m only kidding. Kind of.”  She winked as there was a rap at the door.

“Who could that be?”  Nat peeked at the clock.  It was even later than she thought.

“It’s probably Claudine.  She’s bringing by some ski clothes.”  Susan rose, setting her goblet on the table as she sauntered to the foyer.  “You need to be properly outfitted, you know.  Make a good impression when we meet them at the train to Rochers-de-Naye.”

Meet them at the … “Wait, what?  We are going skiing with them?  You do realize that I don’t know how, right?”

“If you look good enough, it won’t matter.”  Sue paused mid-stride, her lips curling up.  “Actually, that’s even better. Boys love to teach girls new things.  All kinds of things,” she added, giggling at her niece’s horrified expression.  “Get out of the gutter and into the bath, doll.  Should be quite the day.”

A chorus of greetings filled the hall, and Natalie slunk to her bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her.  She leaned against it, her heart beating a touch too fast.  She had to admit she was a little excited.  In a weird way, anyway. What had her aunt said?  That he’d seemed taken.  Padding to the floor length mirror, she twirled around, her mind drifting to the previous night.  He’d been funnier than she’d expected … and he was sort of cute.  Not a terrible smile, either.  Shit.  Even with the missing tooth.  Her heart resumed its trot, and she peered back into the mirror, stilling as she spied the bright red splotch on her chin.  Damn.  She dusted the tip of her finger over the angry bump, and her shoulders drooped.  What would he want with you?  You’re just a kid.   

Temples pounding, Robert lazily opened his eyes.  It had been a long night of drinking, gambling and a few other more pleasurable activities, but sleep hadn’t come easily.  His gaze flickered to his left, a sneaky smile slipping onto his face.  His redhead, on the other hand, had.  And more than a few times, he recalled contentedly, admiring her nestled form.  Pity that she was bound for home in a couple days, but there would be others.  He edged out from under the covers as stealthily as he could and donned his trousers, blinking at the needles of light slicing through the cracks in the curtains.  Bloody hell, what time is it?  He poked his head into the living area, wincing at the blinding glaze of the room.  As his vision adjusted, he found the clock on the mantle, followed by John Henry on the sofa sound asleep.  Robert lumbered to his friend, giving him a kick.  “What the fuck, Bonz?  Get up.  I’ve got somebody here.”

The drummer scowled as he finally came to.  “Fuckin’ hell, it’s bright.  What time is it?”

“Does it matter?  Go to your room.”

“Somebody’s in there.  Or they were last night.”  Bonzo yawned mightily, nestling into the cushions with a grin.  “You’ve got the little redhead wench here, don’t you?  She’s a loud one, yeah?”

“Fuck you, mate,” Robert grumbled, trudging to the bar to retrieve some tea.  Cup in hand, he fell into the crushed velvet armchair, extending his legs onto the ottoman as he canvassed the view.  Or lack thereof.  The snow had tapered off, and the sun was filtering through the glistening fog surrounding them.

“Missing Copenhagen already?”

Robert barked a laugh, replaying the events from two days before.  The Nobs.  What a debacle.  Whose idea had that been?  Ahh, but the clubs had more than made up for it.  “I told Cole to put that last place on our regular itinerary.”

“Did you see their faces when I took the bloody batteries out of the …”

“Yeah.  Good, clean fun, right?”  Robert angled the cup to his lips, grimacing at the cool, stale liquid.  “I still don’t think we should have changed our name for the gig.  Although, Christ, that woman … she was mad.”  Dispensing with the tea on the table beside him, he reached for his Marlboros.  “You know, I was kiddin’ that girl about it last night.”

“You mean Christian’s old lady’s niece?  What was her name?”

“Natalie.”  Robert lit a cigarette, watching the wooden match slowly burn down.  Little Natalie Grace.  Sassy thing, that one.  Easy to annoy.  What was it about her that made him like to tease her so much?  Maybe because she gave it right back.  Better keep her away from Pagey.  “She, uh, might come with us today.”  

“She’s pretty cute.  Better keep her away from Pagey.”  

Robert snickered at his friend’s prescience.  “Was just thinking that.”  As a sleepy voice murmured his name, he tossed his smoke into the discarded tea.  “Well, duty calls, mate.  See you in a bit.”

The train was packed, strange for so late in the day.  Christian had offered her his seat next to Susan in the front, but Natalie had declined, her eyes moving through the masses as she hobbled to the rear.  She slumped into the bench on the last row and slid next to the window, wiggling her toes in the unfamiliar ski boots as she surveyed the crowd again.  Her pulse quickened as she spotted a few faces from the previous evening, but Robert was nowhere in sight.  The ripple of relief quickly gave way to disappointment, and she turned to the dusty glass pane.  There’s not even a view.  What’s the point?  She squinted in hopes of discerning a vague shape or form, but the heavy mist was unrelenting.  Maybe I’ll just take the train back down and be done with it.

“Is this seat taken?”

Recognizing the gentle timbre, her heart leapt.  He had come.  Quelling her glee, she aimed for nonchalance.  “It’s yours if you want it.”

“Why, thank you.”  Amused, Robert clutched the top of the bench as the train lurched, beginning its ascent.  “So generous.”

“You almost didn’t make it.”

He sank next to her, cramming his knees up against the bench in front of them.  “Yeah, had a few things I was dealing with.  Some stuff I had to … put to bed.”

Natalie tilted her head, sensing a joke that she couldn’t quite capture.  “Where’s Jimmy?  Did he not come?”

“No,” the singer replied, pulling out his gloves.  “Jimmy doesn’t really, ah, enjoy a lot of outdoor sport.  He prefers a, um, different kind.”

“What does that mean?”

Robert chuckled as she cocked her head again.  “Nothing, love.  Just … nothing.”

Nat was relatively sure that it was more than nothing as she took in his wide grin, her lips curling at the empty spot on the side of it.  “What happened?”

“With what?”

She tapped her cheek.  “You’re missing a-”

“Ahh, yeah, that.”  Robert skimmed his tongue along his teeth, locating the vacated space.  “Had a small accident a few weeks ago.  Cut my forehead pretty good, too.”  He brushed his fingers across the mending skin.  “Coming home from a club, and, um, a tree sort of got in the way.”

“Got in the way, huh?” she asked with a snicker.

“They tend to do that when you’ve had a few ciders.”  He stretched out into the aisle, flexing his legs.  “But I’m alright now. Ship-shape.”

“You’re very lucky.”  Natalie jumped as the train shuddered, stalling for a moment before assuming its journey.  “It could have been much …” the warning dissipated as the clouds did the same, revealing a spectacular view.  Her jaw dropped as she marveled at the majestic snow covered peaks surrounding them.  She pressed against the glass, craning her neck to see the towns below, the houses and outbuildings resembling toys in the distance.  She could feel Robert lean in behind her, his chest along her back.

“Amazing.”

The word was so soft, Natalie barely heard it, and she twisted around, her cheek grazing his chin.  She quickly drew back.  “Sorry.”

“You’re okay,” the singer whispered, his dimple deepening before returning to the sweeping vista.  

Nat studied his spellbound visage.  So boy-like.  Curious and awed.  She forced herself to look away, following the lines of the white capped mountains as the train crept along.  The silence between them was comfortable, oddly so, lulling her into a dreamy calm.  “I’m glad I’m here.  I wasn’t happy at first.  But now I am.“  

“Not happy?  What do you mean?”

There was a warmth in his gaze.  He was listening, not just hearing.  “My parents sent me here to … well, to get me out of the house.  A new start, I guess.”

“They sent you away?” Robert asked, his brow wrinkling.  “Why would they do that?”

“Things weren’t really working out.  We didn’t get along.  Very well, anyway.”  Natalie glided her thumb along the edge of the window.  “Whatever.  It’s for the best.  I mean, here I am … on a train in the Alps with the singer of the biggest band in the world.”

His eyes traced the splash of freckles dotted across her nose.  “You don’t know anything about us, do you?”

“No, not really,” she admitted with a muted smile.

“Just the bad things, eh?”  He sighed, tightening the collar of his coat.  “There’s a lot of good, too, you know.  And I get the thing with your parents.  My dad, well, he’s not fond of all this.  Thinks it’s a load of bollocks.”  Robert glanced back to Natalie, his mouth curving.  “Bollocks means-“

“I know what it means.  I’ve heard it before.”  Her smile broadened as she straightened his scarf.  “You must be pretty wealthy.  Wouldn’t that impress him?”

“In a way, maybe, but, ah, dad’s kind of, I don’t know, conservative,” he murmured as the car shook, gradually grinding to a halt.  “Is this our stop?”

Natalie searched for her aunt in the sea of ski poles and parkas.  She was standing near the door, beckoning Christian.  “Yep, this is it.”  

They filed out of the train, making for the supply cart behind it, and Robert hoisted their gear from the ancient, steel wired bin, flinching slightly.  “Bloody hell, that stings.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My shoulder … it’s still giving me some trouble.”  Depositing the skis onto the ground, he cautiously rotated it.

“If you’re hurt, maybe we shouldn’t do this.  I mean, we could always take the train back down.”

“No, no, I’m alright.  Just take it easy on me, yeah?”  He winked as he leaned against his pole, fitting his boot inside the binding with a sharp click.  As he latched the other, he paused, puzzled by Natalie’s reticence.  She was nibbling her lip, examining his feet intently.  “What are you waiting for?  Let’s go.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  She crossed her arms.  “We should definitely go back.”

“What are you talking about?  I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Yes, I do.  Christ, you’re bloody stubborn.  Now, put them on, Nat, or we’re going to be …” he trailed off as her eyes slowly met his, and he caught a guilty glimmer. “Wait, you don’t know how to, do you?  That’s why you want to go back.”  She shrugged, giving him a shadow of a smirk.  “You little minx, you told me that you’d skied before.”

“I didn’t technically say that.  I believe my exact words were what do you think?”

Robert laughed, gently shaking his head as a grin blossomed on her face, lighting it up.  She was more than cute.  She was pretty.  Very pretty, actually.  He swallowed, stifling his sigh.  And fourteen, Robert, fourteen. “Alright, come on, then, let me help you.”