A/N: VH1 kind of helped me with the inspiration of this story. They did a honor thing not too long ago centered around The Who, only one the coolest bands ever. I didn't know Roger was part of it until much later. I knew him through Highlander and Fitz was one of my favorite characters so I decided to write this as a tribute.
Beta: Yes, I finally got a Beta. Many thanks to Matt Garvey. He's a fellow author on this site. Just type in his name in the search area.
The Who:
By: LOSTrocker
"That was amazing wasn't it Mac?" Fitz asked the Highlander as they left the large arena.
"Well, it was something." Was Mac's answer.
"Psstosh," Fitz waved his friend's opinion to the wind. "You never really did have any good taste in music."
Mac was offended. "Excuse me?" he questioned. "Mozart, Beethoven… They're the ones who started it all Fitz. They're classic."
"They're boring." He corrected MacLeod. "Not like these guys we just saw. They were really amazing! They knew how to rock the joint."
"It was nothing but ruckus to me." Said Mac with an eye roll.
"I think I'm going to kidnap your friend Dawson next time I go to one of these things, or maybe Methos." He added with a smirk. "They appreciate the good stuff." He paused then shook his head. "Anyway, could you imagine what that must feel like?"
"What?" asked the Highlander.
"What's it like to be a rock god?" he returned. "The fans, the ladies, the parties…"
Mac caught the twinkle in Fitz's eye. He knew what he was thinking. "No, no, no." He got in front of him so he could block him from going any further.
"And why the bloody hell not?" asked Fitz, somewhat hurt that his friend didn't have that much confidence in him.
"Are you kidding me?"
"Does it look like I'm kidding." Fitz answered, crossing his arms.
"You can't be a rock star." Mac stated.
"I'm still waiting, why not?!" he demanded.
"Well, besides the fact you really don't have any sort of musical talent, there is the whole Immortal thing you have to worry about." Mac reminded him in a whisper. "I think your so called fans, if you ever had any would notice if you didn't age."
"Then I'll simply die of an overdose, or in some sort of crash." Fitz made known. "Rockers do it all the time."
Mac couldn't help but laugh. Fitz was serious. He had this thing all sorted out. "Fine, if you want to make a fool of yourself, go for it. I'm not going to stop you."
It was Fitz's turn to laugh. "It hasn't stopped you before, why let old habits die hard?" he questioned. "Give me time Mac, and I'll prove you wrong."
The two shook hands and went off in different directions. Mac went off to his, a place called reality. Fitz went in his to God only knows what. It would be a couple of years later until they ran into each other again.
"I don't believe it." Mac said to himself as he once again stood outside the large area that he came out of a couple of years ago with Fitz.
A large poster of the Brit mocked him from a nearby wall. It was Fitz all decked out with the rock star image. He laughed. Fitz gave leather a whole new meaning and it wasn't a good one. Still, he didn't pass this up. Fitz sent him the free tickets and there was no point of throwing them away. Plus, he needed a good laugh.
It seemed that the old bastard ended giving him the last laugh. Fitz had fans, they were all around him screaming his name as he rocked on stage. He even caught some of the women taking off their shirts for him. "Oh geez," Mac shook his head. He started to listen to Fitz. The truth was, the guy really wasn't that bad. Of course, he wouldn't let him know that. Mac had a feeling that Fitz wouldn't let him live this one down.
Fin.