The next few concerts go off without a hitch, and while it still feels a little hollow without Star Girl there in the audience, Bill is learning to cope. And how can she be sad, when surrounded by such wonderful friends?
They all watch some TV for a bit, and Missy keeps nosing at Theo's neck until Bill tells them to get a room and they leave. Bill and Nardole enjoy their newfound space and stretch their legs a bit while still cuddling up with each other. Nardole is nice to cuddle, Bill has found, and he always inexplicably has biscuits, somewhere on hand. A truly valuable friend to have.
"Oh hey, Graham Norton, we've only missed the first five minutes or so," Bill says as she channel surfs, and puts the remote down to sit back and enjoy what feels like a home comfort. There's definitely something comforting about the Graham Norton Show.
Graham's couch is filled with familiar American movie stars tonight, and Bill is happy to enjoy the presence of Ellen Page, fellow lesbian and general wonderful human, as the show continues. Nardole shares his biscuits and makes them more hot chocolate, and things are good.
"Alright, and now, we have a performance from the one and only… Harry Saxon!"
"Oh shit," Bill says, blinking at the television, and Nardole also sits up a bit straighter.
The camera pans to a good looking man in his late forties with a silver goatee (which is a look that is surely dated, by now, and yet somehow, just… works for him) and a wicked grin.
The musicians behind him start up, and he joins in with the guitar in his hands. Bill's heard the song once before, it's his most famous one and turns up in the random Spotify charts playlists. It's a bit more classic rock in sound than the kind of thing that one hears in the charts, but she knows this one, 'Disguises', has made it in there regardless, just not into the top half.
"Damn, he's good," Bill says, impressed. He sounds exactly the same live as he does in the polished recordings.
"Like I said, he has a presence," Nardole replies, shrugging.
It's certainly true - Saxon flirts with the camera, the audience, and one of his backup singers, and has an undeniable charisma about him. He finishes the song with a flourish and a laugh.
Graham Norton crosses the stage to clasp his hand. "That was brilliant, have I ever mentioned how glad some of us older timers are that you're back on the scene?"
"Not as glad as me, I'm sure," Saxon says, grinning and following him to sit on the edge of the sofa, next to Ellen Page. He quickly shakes hands with everyone else on the couch, before reclining with his ankle on top of his opposite knee, the picture of ease.
"Well, Harry, you're back, well and truly, now," Graham says to him. "How does that feel?"
"Well, I dipped my toe in, with the first album," Saxon says, "just to see if I still had the knack, to see if I could generate any interest on my own. And, surprise! Everyone loved it, and so now I'm back, full force, and people are going nuts."
"As they should be."
Saxon laughs. "As they should be!"
One of the actors on the couch compliments the album, and Saxon nods and says thanks, asking about their favourite song, which is apparently 'Give Us A Kiss', which the others start praising, especially Graham.
"What about you, you listened to it?" Saxon asks Ellen Page next to him.
"No, I'm gay," she says, making Bill snort and about half of the audience along with Graham roar with laughter, while Saxon looks a bit put out.
"That is… a mood," Bill says. "Like, I did a quick look into it, and it seems like most of his fans are thirsty heterosexual women. Like, some bisexuals, yeah, but loads of straights. Especially teenage girls, and women in their forties. Which, you know, is… fine, but-"
"Are you trying to say that being a fan of Harold Saxon is heterosexual culture?"
Bill hesitates. "I mean, those are your words, not mine-"
"Because this bisexual is now a bit offended."
"Are you actually a fan?"
"Well, yeah, a bit," Nardole says defensively. "I just don't talk about it, for fairly obvious reasons. I like my head where it is, thank you, and Missy would definitely have it."
"Fair enough."
They turn their attention back to the television, and one of the actors is complaining about how his wife wouldn't stop talking about how attractive Saxon is, and Saxon is grinning from ear to ear.
"Sounds like my wife," Saxon says, earning another laugh from the audience and an eye roll from Ellen Page, who if Bill isn't mistaken, seems to have shuffled an inch away from him.
"So, Harry, what's solo fame like, compared to being in the Renegades?" Graham asks him.
Saxon sits up a bit, and steeples his fingers. "You know, I think it suits me. I never was one for sharing the spotlight anyway. And I'm also not one for compromise. So being able to do just what I want? It's great."
"That old stuff was good, though," Ellen says to him. "The Renegades? My mom raised me on that. You three were an insanely good team."
"Oh, I know, there's no questioning that," Saxon replies, nodding. "We were bloody magic together. I think I firmly believe that few people will ever have the connection we had."
"So why'd you guys break up?"
Saxon shrugs. "Nothing lasts forever. One day it just fell apart. It happens. You drink a lot of whiskey and write a song about it, and you find a way to move on."
"I think half the country is itching to see the three of you reunite, even if it was just for one night," Graham says.
Saxon spreads his hands, eyebrows up. "Hey, I'm game if they are. I'd love to see them again, it's been years. I miss them, you know? I really do. They were everything to me, they really were."
Bill hears a sharp intake of breath from behind her, and turns to see Missy standing there, her form dwarfed by the shirt hanging off her body that is definitely Theo's, her eyes glued to the screen.
"Oh, shit, hey," Bill says, hitting the pause button on the television. "Sorry, it was just… on. And we're curious."
"It's fine," Missy mutters, shaking her head and moving towards the kettle. It's fairly obvious from her face that it isn't particularly fine. "Don't pause it on my account."
Bill isn't sure, but Nardole grabs the remote and presses play, and Missy comes to sit on the arm of the couch while she waits for the kettle to boil. Bill tries not to get distracted by how much leg is currently on display and right next to her, or by how beautiful Missy looks with her hair all messy. Remembering that it's messy because she's just been boning Theo is fairly helpful on that front, but even so, it brings up memories of when it had been that messy because of being in Bill's bed, and -
The show starts playing again. Missy's hand finds its way to the back of Bill's neck and strokes the skin there, fingers twisting gently in her hair. Bill swallows hard, and tries to avoid having a gay heart attack. She only has to take a look at Missy's face to guess that she's doing it to anchor herself. Therefore, Bill can't complain.
"Now, be honest, you and Missy Masters, were you ever…" Graham Norton trails off so that he can waggle his eyebrows. "Because I remember the Renegades days, and you were all very close, but I remember, you and Missy especially seemed to be all over each other."
The hand in Bill's hair tightens a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to make Bill glance at Missy with worry. Her face is unreadable.
"Oh, she's just like that, she's very touchy feely," Saxon says, waving his hand. "Provided she actually likes you, which is the difficult bit. She's hard to win over, but god, it's worth it to have her in your corner. What an incredible woman."
Missy's hand tightens in an instant, to the point of pain.
"Hey, ow," Bill says to her, making Missy blink at her and immediately withdraw her hand.
"Oh, sorry, love, I-" She swallows, and for the first time Bill notices tears in her eyes, which she quickly wipes at, hand drawing over her face carefully.
"What's wrong?" Bill asks, catching her free hand. "Missy, seriously." She becomes acutely aware of the TV pausing again as Nardole turns his attentions to them instead.
Missy just shakes her head and slides off the arm of the couch. "It's nothing."
"It clearly isn't."
"It's just… it's a lot," Missy says, gnawing on her lip and glancing at the screen. "Seeing him. Hearing him - hearing him talk about me. It's like being thrown in a time machine and hurled back into the 90's."
"He seems to think really highly of you," Bill says.
Missy lets out a strange noise, a mix between a laugh and a hiccup, her eyes soft and sad. "Yeah. Yeah, well, he would, wouldn't he? I'm…. well." She does a little flourish of a gesture towards her face, smiling faintly. "Me. Singular, irreplaceable, gorgeous, obscenely talented-"
"And so modest," Nardole says, eyebrow up.
Bill, meanwhile, curses the fact that she'd just been nodding along with every single item along the list, and is grateful neither of them seemed to have noticed her doing it.
Missy's lips twitch at Nardole's words, her eyes sparking for a moment before they're melancholy again. "Yeah, well, point is, he was the only one who ever really understood me, so-" She purses her lips. "Well, so nothing. It doesn't matter now."
"Kinda seems like it does," Bill says. "Like, I'm done pushing you about what happened, it's obvious you don't want to talk about it, but… it clearly isn't over."
Missy's hand brushes over the top of her left thigh through the fabric of the shirt, while her face remains difficult to read, but the gesture seems to ground her, somehow.
(It also makes Bill's heart beat a little faster, because it draws her attention back to Missy's legs, and if that weren't usually bad enough, Bill now has some very particular memories about those legs that bring a flush up her neck.)
"Maybe not," Missy says, jaw tight. "I suppose we'll see. Unpause it, Nardole, lets see what else he has to say."
Nardole does so, and Missy lingers behind the couch to watch, hands on the tops of the cushions.
"And Theodore?" Graham asks. "Were there ever competitions for Missy's affections? The rumour mill was rampant, back then."
"God no, have you met her? She'd have had our necks if we'd tried anything that stupid," Saxon laughs. A moment later, he does a cocky little gesture to himself, giving a couple of different angles. "Besides, look at me. Don't get me wrong, Theo's gorgeous, but he's got nothing on me."
Bill is vaguely aware of Missy moving away from the couch and towards the kettle that has since stopped making noise, and she hears the mugs slam onto the counter much more forcefully than necessary. She also thinks she hears Missy muttering to herself in Russian again. (Bill's never worked out why that seems to be her language of choice, since as far as she knows, Missy is Scottish with a tiny bit of Mexican some way back in her lineage, with no Russian blood in sight. But then, it's Missy, so maybe the whole Scottish Mexican thing had been a joke, come to think of it.)
"Now, to get back on topic, I want to talk about your fans, because, god, there's so many of them," Graham says. "But what gets me most is the name."
Saxon's eyes flash with satisfaction, and his lips curl into a grin. "Oh, that."
"The Cult of Saxon," Graham reads off the screen he has next to him, showing some tweets from various members of said 'cult'.
In the kitchen, Bill hears one of the mugs hit the floor with a crash, and whirls her head around to see Missy standing there, holding one mug in her hand while she stares at the TV, barely seeming to have registered that she's dropped the other one.
It sound like Saxon is laughing. "Yeah, it's weird, I love it. Saxonite is the other one, which is nice and lowkey, but who really wants lowkey these days? I love how extra they all are."
Missy finally looks down at the broken mug and the spilt tea. "Oh, I'll-" She looks lost, disorientated, the hand holding the other mug shaking a little, the tea inside almost sloshing over the side. "I'll clean that up later."
She grabs a bottle of whiskey from the nearby cabinet with her now free hand and steps around the broken glass to make her way back to Theo's room.
"Night, you two," she mutters as she goes.
"Night," they chorus, before looking at each other with vague concern, and then back at the television when they don't dare comment on her behaviour yet.
Graham is reading out thirsty tweets from Saxon fans that make everyone on the couch laugh (with the exception of Ellen Page, who only cracks smiles at a couple), and Bill cringes at most of them. Also, Saxon just seems to enjoy the attention a bit too much, no matter the age or gender of the person in question. It leaves an uncertain, unpleasant feeling in her stomach.
"It's a shame I'm happily married," Saxon says with a chuckle after Graham reads the last tweet. "That could have been fun."
Ellen Page is regarding Saxon with a scepticism that just about summarises how Bill feels about the whole thing. It must be an innate lesbian wisdom thing.
"You know, Missy said to not trust a single word he says," Bill tells Nardole, who pauses in his biscuit eating, and then just scoffs.
"Oh, right, because she's such a paragon of truth and honesty," he says, rolling his eyes.
Bill has to admit that he has a point, there. "I mean, doesn't he… give you a weird vibe, though?"
"I dunno," Nardole says with a shrug, "I mean, sure, he seems like he's probably a bit of an arse, but he seems harmless enough. Besides, if we're not supposed to trust a single word he says, then why did Missy say he was telling the truth when he was saying how great he thought she was? Seemed a bit convenient, don't you think?"
Bill hadn't thought of it like that. The uncertainty inside her grows and begins to fester, but it's different now. Bill hadn't actually ever doubted Missy until now, but Nardole has a point. How can everything Saxon says be a lie, if Missy herself had confirmed that at least some of it is true?
"Man, I dunno, I get more confused about this whole thing the more I learn," Bill sighs. "Almost makes me want to talk to him myself. Almost."
The show wraps up, and it's a bit of a relief to have Saxon out of sight, since it means he's that much close to being out of mind. At least, in theory. Bill knows it'll be a while longer before she can get his face out of her head.
There's definitely something there, something underneath his charming exterior. Something quiet and insidious that sets off something in Bill's subconscious, some little warning that there's something bad wrong dangerous about him.
Would she have noticed it if Missy's words hadn't made her look deeper? Hadn't tipped her off? Who knows. But it's there, now, and that's what matters.
Bill might not know right now exactly what it is, but she is absolutely going to find out, even if it takes months of patience.
And then, if she really doesn't like it, she might just deck him in his stupid, round, smirking face.
I don't know how Ellen Page ended up in here, but I'm glad she did, because clearly what this fic needed was MORE lesbian energy.
Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!