Seasons of Our Lives

- This is set right after episode 10, "The Magical Delights of Stevie Nicks," when Stevie finished playing "Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You." The episode ended with Stevie on the piano and an emotionally-exhausted Fiona on a chair, listening to Stevie. There will also be appearances from Myrtle Snow, Cordelia and some other people living in the house. -

A/N

Dear all,

I am rather new to the AHS hype but that does not make my enthusiasm any less. Fiona Goode — and Jessica Lange, obviously — is one of my favorite characters; I find her fascinating. Coven has also caused my rediscovery of Fleetwood Mac and as a consequence, my obsession with Stevie Nicks. While listening to a disproportionately large amount of FM songs and still being captured by both Jessica's and Stevie's spirit and their fondness for each other (both on and off-screen), I was in dire need of a reason to bring them together. If not in real life, then at least in the fictional world.

I am not quite sure where I am going with this fic yet. However, as one of my favorite songs is Landslide, I intend to make this a Landslide-themed fic (as you may have noticed from the fic and chapter title). Though I don't guarantee anything.

Last but not least, I would love some feedback — good or bad — it truly makes my day and also helps me improve my writing. Thank you in advance. I hope you enjoy this journey with me!

Chapter 1 — Reflections

She has the grace of a lioness and the cold edge of a shark, she thought, her eyes are a blurry concoction of confidence and heat.

Stevie wasn't sure if this heat was the warmth of cautious compassion or just another way to burn at the stake, but she chose to believe it was the former. Fiona might have thought Stevie didn't notice her while playing her favorite song, Landslide, on the piano, but Stevie had internalized the essence of the song to a painful extent over the years, being able to replay all of the heartache it contained at all times without giving it any thought at all.

While her fingers slowly slid over the keys, she couldn't help but continuously glance over to Fiona. It was impossible not to; her presence was like an overwhelming existence filling a limited space — constantly seeming to burst at the seams and simultaneously putting pressure on her skin. Yet, it gave Stevie unprecedented energy — like cocaine, but better. An uncomfortable addiction, she thought, though was there any addiction that was not uncomfortable?

Fiona sat in an antique chair to Stevie's right in a plain black dress — of course, she wouldn't wear anything else. Her legs were crossed elegantly and her body was at ease — or seemed to be. It was almost like the chair was holding her body and Stevie knew it was rare to see her friend trust the music and the words, her words, instead of trying to maintain her character. This was the most calm Stevie had ever seen her, even if it was just through a peripheral glimpse. Yet she knew that Fiona would never dare to let her guard down completely; the only woman who knew Fiona Goode was Fiona Goode herself. As Stevie played the last notes, the piano became quieter and her voice softer. The room fell silent once the song had ended and she felt like the last sung word, 'down,' resonated in the room for an infinite amount of seconds.

In the meantime, Fiona had taken a sip of white wine and was now holding on to the glass in her right hand, resting her other comfortably on the arm rest. She then slowly set it down on the table next to her and pushed herself out of the chair to walk in Stevie's direction. Stevie left her spot behind the piano as well and turned to Fiona, who, once she had arrived in front of the piano, hugged her friend closely. The two women lingered in the embrace for just a little longer than usually. Fiona pressed Stevie against her chest a little tighter before loosening her grip.

"That was wonderful," she said in her raspy yet powerful voice, "I'm glad to have you here." Stevie smiled a vague smile — not sure if letting it out or hiding it would be appropriate. She sat her hat down on the piano before walking towards Fiona, who gestured her to sit down in the chair next to her.

"Spalding," she pointed to Stevie's wine glass, "please." Spalding responded with a slight nod and then poured her some white wine faster than Stevie realized. "I hope you like white wine," Fiona smiled at her, "thank you Spalding." He nodded again and then disappeared somewhere in the background.

"I do," Stevie said humbly. Fiona took out another cigarette, lit it and took a deep, seemingly relieving, puff of smoke. She then offered Stevie a cigarette, holding her pack out in front of her as if she was presenting them.

"I actually quit smoking," she took a cigarette, "but how could I refuse you?" She leaned in closer so Fiona could light her cigarette. The closer she leaned, the more electrified she felt. She wondered if all witches had this kind of aura, but she already knew the answer: Fiona was not like all witches, and Stevie wished she wasn't, either. They both leaned back into their chairs, Fiona slightly more eased than Stevie.

"This is great," Fiona took another big drag and then exhaled the smoke in a very controlled manner.

"I agree," Stevie managed to say, trying hard not to choke from the now unfamiliar taste of cigarettes.

Fiona looked over to her and started laughing genuinely. While resting it on the backrest, Stevie let her head fall gently to the left to catch Fiona's eyes and then chimed in with another smile she tried to alleviate. She noticed that while laughing, Fiona's eyes got smaller and the small wrinkles around them became more distinct, like an accessory adding to the sincerity of her smile. All of this felt more like the background to the spectacle that was the radiant glow of the sparkle in her eyes. Stevie thought that even if she was deaf, Fiona's eyes would still be the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen.

"So," Fiona crossed her legs again, "what has life presented you with lately? I feel like I haven't seen you in a lifetime."

Stevie removed some strands of hair from her face in an attempt to put them into place, "I don't go out of the house much these days. I try not to spend too much time in the public. People are assholes, you know." She looked down, "I usually spend all of my time on music and writing," she took another sip of wine.

"Well," Fiona got up and made her way over to the piano, which Stevie perceived as unexpected but not unpleasant, as her eyes immediately fell on Fiona's curvy backside that was highlighted by the black dress. They wandered up to her face as soon as she turned around and leaned on the piano, bracing herself with her hands, "you're outstanding at what you do." Without looking up, she called for Spalding. "I'm in the mood for some music."

He magically appeared out of the dark; he almost seemed like a present absence to Stevie — or an absent presence? Without any further questions, he vanished again and it wasn't long before Going to California by Led Zeppelin started playing.

"It has been a rough day," Fiona let a slightly too big breath of smoke-filled air escape her lips, accompanied by an insincere laugh that had the sole purpose of covering her fear. For one second, Stevie felt a breeze of Fiona's vulnerability surface. Before much more could show, though, Fiona focused her glimpse on Stevie and then reached out her hand, "would do me the honor?"

While smiling internally, Stevie set down her glass of wine and got up to walks towards her friend. Once there, she placed her hand into Fiona's, "There is nothing I would rather do."

TBC