A/N: Little moments of Rayna & Deacon's lives together in an AU where Deacon's addiction never broke them apart. The story travels back and forth to various moments in time.
September 10, 1995
Rayna opens her eyes and squints at the morning light. She needs a few seconds to take in her surroundings. Hotel room. Naked. "Babe?" she calls. No answer. Naked and alone, apparently. She groans as she drags herself out of bed and goes in search of a t-shirt in her suitcase. It's when she puts it on that she notices the words in black ink scribbled upside down on her stomach.
Out running an errand. Be right back.
P.S.: I love you, baby.
P.S. 2: I wrote all that and you still haven't woken up. We should have slowed down on tequila.
She chuckles. Her recollection of last night's events is foggy at best. She's sure though that it involves taking a cab with Deacon to a nearby park, right after their show, and having candlelit dinner sitting on a wooden picnic table. Going to a bar and, after some tequila-induced convincing, dragging him to dance. And then, later, Deacon kissing her in the hotel's elevator, her legs around his waist and her back pressed against the wall, whispering, "Happy anniversary, I love you, babe," in his ear as he was carrying her from the elevator to their room.
The door opens and Deacon gets in, a smile forming on his face when he sees her.
"Hey, baby."
He puts a little carton bag on the table.
"I hope you bought notepads, looks like we're short of those," she remarks, amused.
"It's our second anniversary, Ray. Paper was last year."
"What's in the bag?"
"You'll see next year." He gives her a conspiratorial grin.
"Next year?"
"We said no gifts this year, I'm a man of my word."
"Fine," she laughs. "The bus is leaving in one hour. I'm going to take a shower."
She pauses at the bathroom's door and turns to look at him.
"Feel free to come help me remove the ink."
Later that day, she's sitting on the couch in their tour bus with boxes full of CDs waiting to be signed on the table in front of her. Deacon is sitting not far, strumming on his guitar.
Their life has been so hectic since her latest tour started. Whenever she's not on stage, her days are filled with showcases, radio interviews and all kinds of publicity events Bucky is planning for her. She's grateful for nights like the last one when she can run away with Deacon.
She opens the first box, removes the cap of the black pen and starts putting her autograph on the albums.
A moment later, "Babe?"
"Yes?"
"What's in the bag?"
He grins. "Next year, Ray."