"I was shot down/by your love/my Angel in Blue Jeans."

The crowd went wild as they finished their set. It was nice to know that if he hadn't been born into a family of Marines, Miles could have made a decent career as a singer. But it wasn't the time for that. Miles and Bass packed away their guitars and started the night's round of questioning.

All he had of her was a picture in his pocket that he had taken from the bar where they had met. She had sung "Love For Sale" in the most incredible voice Miles had ever heard. She was…she was an angel. Hence the song he had just finished. He had bought her a drink after her set and they talked and talked and talked. About everything under the sun. He remembered that the bar had been packed but it seemed like they were the only two there while they were together. And being the idiot that he was, he never got her fucking name.

Miles had turned around for one fucking second and she was suddenly darting off with a laugh like they were playing chase with Charlie. He ran after her, calling for her to wait. "Come find me," she yelled back. She had made it to the Turnpike road that ran right along the bar they had been in. Before he could make it to her, she had flagged down a trucker and gotten a ride. He was stunned. It took Bass shaking him for Miles to come back to the world.

They had gone back to the bar and Miles thought that was the end of it. Until he noticed the picture of her hanging on the back wall. Apparently the pretty Latina sang there a lot. No one could give him a name though. For ten bucks the bartender agreed to part with the picture and Miles started on his journey.

He took the leave he had coming to him from the Marines and went from dive bar to dive bar. With Bass right behind him. He made money singing the songs he had written about the woman. And after he was done, he went up to every single patron and asked the same question. "Have you seen this woman?" holding up the picture he'd gotten months ago.

The answer was usually no. Occasionally he got a yes but again, never a name. Only the realization that he was days behind her and falling faster with each step. Miles was particularly disheartened by this round of questioning, so he went to the back and began to fiddle with the keyboard. Maybe he would write a new song about her.

"I'm worried about you," Bass said as he came to the back.

"Why worried?" Miles countered. "Look at me, I'm fine."

"This is becoming obsessive Miles."

"It's not obsessive until "Phantom of the Opera" starts to play in the background." To prove his point, he began playing just that.

"You know nothing about this girl."

"That's the entire point of following her."

Bass was about to argue when one of the patrons said the bartender had a note for them. "This is not over," he warned Miles.

"In sleep she sang to me," Miles sang after him. "In dreams she came/that voice which calls to me/and speaks my name/." Bass flipped him the bird.

Miles played around on the keyboard until Bass fought his way back. He could already tell Bass was hiding something. They had been each other's shadows since they were five. Bass couldn't hide shit from Miles. "So what did they want?" Miles asked casually, hands creating random melodies.

"Going to answer that?" Bass asked first, gesturing to the cell phone.

"Nope. It's Ben. Don't' need another lecture. So what did they want?"

"Wanted to invite us to play again tomorrow."

"Liar, what did he really want." Bass opened his mouth and Miles cocked an eyebrow. "Don't even start man."

Bass thrust an envelope at him. "I still say this fucked up. It's like you're her stalker."

Miles grinned as he opened the letter left by his angel in blue jeans. Sometimes they managed to make it to a bar or club she had been to ahead of them. And she always left a note for him. "It's only stalking if she tells me to stop," Miles pointed out. He held up the note. "This says 'please continue'. So… not stalking."

"How did I end up on this crazy journey with you?"

Miles stopped playing. "Go home then."

Bass blinked. "What?"

"Go home. Go back to base, look up Emma, see your ten year old. Go home. I didn't make you come here. You picked that. If you're getting sick of the road tripping, go home. I've got an angel in blue jeans to chase."

Bass rolled his eyes. "Who would look after you if I went home?"

"I would like to remind you, I am 30. And a Marine. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, sure you can," Bass sighed. "So what's our next move?"

"You stop pouting?"

"After that?"

"Same as always," Miles declared, grabbing his pack. "We're on the move."

"The things I do for you." Bass knew it was no good arguing. Miles was like a damn tornado once he picked a course. You just had to follow him so you wouldn't end up in the path of destruction.

Which was why Bass was going to just keep following until Miles found this mystery girl. He couldn't deny the girl was pretty. But it wasn't like she was the only pretty girl on the planet. Six billion people on planet earth and his best friend had to fall for the one that liked leading him around the country. Bass made a mental note to call Emma and Connor tomorrow morning as they loaded up Miles' truck and headed out to the next bar.

Another night, another bar, another round of rejection. The endless circle Miles had been kept in for…he was beginning to lose track how long actually. And he wasn't entirely sure he cared. Maybe this was a stupid trip and he was just pretending to be one of those "quirky" characters in an indie movie but…fuck it, he loved this mystery woman. He was going to love her until he died. Might as well let her know that before he kicked it.

It was another bar just like the rest. He had finished his set and was doing his round of questioning. Maybe the bartender would have another letter for him. Miles had tucked all the other ones away at the bottom of his pack. A new one would be nice. Then he heard that laugh. That laugh that he had been reliving since he first lost his dream girl. Miles turned and there she was. Laughing like nothing was wrong. She turned to look at him and it was that spark all over again. Miles felt himself laughing as she recognized him. She excused herself from the table she was at and crooked her finger at him. He followed willingly.

They ran outside, Miles deliberately a few steps behind. She stopped by the edge of the highway. "You're persistent," she called over the wind. "I like that."

"You're amazing," Miles shrugged. "I can't help it."

"Why not give up?"

"You don't' give up on what you love."

She laughed again. Miles really liked her laugh. "So you love me?"

"If you're looking for poetic, the best I can give is yes."

"That's poetic enough for me."

Miles ducked his head as he chuckled. "Can I at least get your name?" he asked.

"Come up here first."

Miles jogged up to where she was. They were right on the edge of the road and the wind was high. It was like some cheap movie moment. He loved it. His angel in blue jeans leaned up to kiss him when a car zipped past them. The wind pushed her over and they both laughed. "That could have gone better," Miles grinned.

"That was really supposed to be much smoother," she agreed. "Try again?"

"Again," he nodded. Damn she was tiny. She only came up to his shoulder, he noticed as she got closer to him. It would be good for holding her. She'd fit right under his chin when he held her close. Miles looked forward to it.

Anotehr gust of wind sent her tipping towards the road. Miles grabbed her arm to push her back on to sand and safety. But his own center of gravity moved. He ended up falling into the road. He heard her scream at the same time the car's horn blasted.

The world went white. It was white for a very long time. There were flashes of not white. Bass leaning over him, then being replaced by people he didn't know, sirens, screaming. Someone was holding his hand. He squeezed their hand and heard a gentle sigh.

When he woke up fully, he had the strange sensation of being in a bed with someone else. "Miles, you up?"

Miles looked down his very broken body to see Ben at the foot of the bed. He also registered that he was in a hospital. Probably a military hospital. "You're back at Parris Island," a voice to his left said. "You've been in and out for about four days. But the doctors say you're going to be fine."

Miles rolled his head to left to see Bass standing there. "Car accident?"

"Car accident."

Miles nodded and turned to his right. His angel in blue jeans was lying next to him with worry in her eyes. He smiled at her. She was here. She was here and so were both of his brothers. It was going to be alright. "I'm Miles."

"Nora," she grinned.

Miles leaned down to kiss her.


A/N: "Love for Sale" is by Cole Porter. "Angel in Blue Jeans" is by Train.