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  Ziggy Stardust Fiction  
   

Uncut Version
by Stardust Grrl

Part IV: Late Night

The flat was pitch-black. It was the dead of night.

"Excuse me, Tommy. I have to use the bathroom," said Margaret, getting up out of bed. She needed an excuse to get away from Thomas for a while…he was making her sick with all his sweet talk. Ugh! she thought.

"Mick, I have to get a drink of water. I’ll be right back," said Jacqueline as she rolled off the bed.

"Yeah, maybe I’ll go to the bathroom while you’re away," Mick said.

Margaret and Jacqueline each walked to their destinations, both unknown to one another. Margaret went into the bathroom before Jacqueline could see her. Jacqueline stumbled into the kitchen for some water.

While Margaret was away relieving herself, Thomas decided to get up and explore the parts of the flat he had not seen, which were mainly small closets and a tiny den. He went into the den and passed out. All the liquor had got the worst of him.

Even though Mick said he was going to go to the bathroom, he stayed in bed, thinking about how wonderful Jacqueline was. He actually forgot he said anything of the matter and drifted off to sleep.

Jacqueline stretched her arms and drank the water from her hands because she couldn’t find any glasses. She went back to where she thought her room was and laid down on the bed. She wasn’t surprised to find Mick’s assuring figure absent, for she knew he was going to go to the bathroom. So, thinking Mick was in the bathroom, she assumed a position that set off her voluptuous figure and waited for her love to return. Oddly, the bed seemed much more springy than it had been a couple minutes before, but she dismissed the thought and set her mind on Mick.

After Margaret relieved herself, she yawned and returned to her dark bedroom. It was indeed very dim but her eyes were adjusted to the darkness enough so that she could see a beckoning figure lying seductively on the bed. She was lured into the room by the enticing body, and, thinking it was Tommy, jumped on the bed…strictly for his pleasure.

The person, who was actually Jacqueline, grabbed Margaret and started kissing her madly. Thinking Margaret was Mick, Jacqueline started giggling about things that Mick and Jacqueline had talked about earlier. Margaret stopped kissing who she believed to be Tommy and thought, My, Tommy’s voice has changed! She rejected the thought and kept on kissing her. She was having such a good time, and Tommy had become a much better kisser and also much softer in some places. Margaret started thinking more, and the thought Wait a minute! This isn’t Tommy! came into her mind once or twice, but in her drunken state she quickly forgot her doubts and continued making out with who she assumed to be her Tommy. Margaret decided that she needed to have a little fun on this night, so she set aside her feelings of dislike towards Tommy and indulged herself. Jacqueline, however, didn’t think twice that this person might not be Mick. She was too intoxicated and having too much fun to notice anything different or strange.

"Woody, my love…" Kisch said in a voice that cut through Woody’s heart like a hot knife through butter.

"Kisch, darling, I don’t know what I’d do without you…" Woody leaned over to Kisch and smiled at her.

"What will we do after tonight? I mean, I may never see you again! Oh, I can’t bear to think of it!" Kisch was very distressed.

"There, there, love," Woody said, comforting her. "We’ll think of something. I promise."

Kisch sniffed. "You—you promise?"

"Yes. I promise. You have my word."

"Okay. But…"

"But what, dear?"

"But what about David—when he comes, what are you going to do?"

"I’m gonna give him a piece of my bloody mind!"

"Please, please, Woody! Don’t be like this!"

"I’m sorry. What he did was downright low."

"I know it. But forgive him, for my sake."

"But—"

"Please."

Woody paused. "I don’t know. He’s caused me so much grief, but you…you made it better. I can’t completely forgive him. I guess I won’t bloody him up, for your sake. No, I won’t do that…but I can’t be his drummer anymore."

"W—what?" Kisch stammered. "The Spiders from Mars without you…that’s like…a clock without hands!"

"I’m sorry, love. I just can’t do it! At least I won’t hurt him!"

Tears welled up in Kisch’s eyes. "I—I can’t believe it…! You were one of the three reasons I came here!"

"What were the other two?"

"To see my friends and to see David on stage."

"I’m sorry, I just can’t do it! We can still keep in touch. If you’d like, we can go on a holiday somewhere—far away from here. How does Switzerland sound?"

"Wow! Really? I’ve always wanted to visit Switzerland. This is the first time I’ve ever been out of Russia. But I’ve heard so much about Switzerland."

"Then it’s settled. We can leave as soon as you would like."

"Anytime is fine!"

"We can go as soon as possible, how about that?"

"Oh, yes, Woody, yes! You are so wonderful!" With that, Kisch hugged Woody and kissed him passionately.

Trevor pulled together his shirt. It was quite cold for a July. The brisk London air gave him goosebumps on the exposed parts of his arms. No one was astir in the dark, empty street. It was much like a ghost town.

Trevor was thinking about going inside, where it was somewhat warmer and safer, when he saw a figure in the distance. The person had on a white suit that seemed to glow like a beacon on a stormy night. Trevor soon realised that this person was David.

He ran into the street. "David!" he called out quietly as he waved his arms frantically over his head. He didn’t want to wake the neighbours…they would probably swamp both he and David in a second. Either that, or call the cops.

Trevor ran out to David. "Hey David! Here’s the flat," Trevor said, pointing to Margaret’s flat.

David looked at Trevor, puzzled. "An’ what are you doin’ ‘ere?" David was evidently drunk, having partied since the end of the concert at the Café Royal.

"Well, I knew you were coming sooner or later, so I decided to meet you," Trevor said, half lying. He had actually come to warn Woody of the possible impending danger he could be facing.

David looked down at his feet and kicked a rock, thinking deeply. He looked up at Trevor and a light bulb went off in his brain. "Is that so? You were always such a nice person! Now, where are they?"

Trevor reluctantly pointed to Margaret’s flat again. "They’re in there." Trevor looked at David. "Do you want me to help you over there?"

"Oh, no, my good man, that won’t be necessary," said David, stumbling. "I just need a little rest. It was a long walk." David sat down on the curb.

"Why in the world did you walk? You could’ve had a limousine or a cab or something bring you over."

"Well, did you walk?" asked David.

"Yes, but—"

"You see my point?"

"Yes."

"Then let’s just rest here for a while."

"Okay. So, what did I miss at the party?"

"Oh, it was super! You should’ve been there for the whole thing. It’s still going on now. Mick Jagger was a riot. So was Lou Reed! Why, the press even thought Lou and I were kissing! Actually, I was just whispering something in his ear."

"Ah. I see…and you say it’s still going on now?"

"Yes, I suppose it’ll last until morning."

"What time is it anyway? I forgot what time it was when I left."

David thought for a while. "Well, when I left, it was a bit after midnight."

"Oh, that’s all? It seems much later. And you had no trouble with the police?"

"No, no one was out. I think they actually take a rest in the wee hours of the morning. They’re not supposed to."

"I know it, but I’m not complaining!" Trevor laughed. It seemed, he thought, that David was sobering up by the minute. Maybe he would have enough sense to refrain from beating Woody up. Trevor then thought of something else. Why would David want to hurt Woody anyway? If anyone should be beaten up, it should be David, for what he did to us, and especially to Woody. Poor Woody, he was so unprepared for this. Hmmm… Trevor thought for a long time as David did the same.

Poor Woody. David shook his head. What am I going to say to him? This was all so sudden…I don’t know what I should say… David turned to Trevor. "Trevor, I can’t think of anything to say to Woody. I’m not much cop at this kind of thing, you know. What should I say?"

"Well…" Trevor wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to say how Woody wanted to beat David up and all, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. "Hmmm…I think you should just say you’re sorry. Let’s see how that works and go from there."

"You think so?" David asked with hopeful eyes.

"I hope so." Trevor nodded, somewhat unsure of himself. Goodness, David usually isn’t this open. Or kind! Trevor thought. What happened?

"Good." David smiled and put his delicate but strong hand on Trevor’s shoulder. "I suppose we can go now, then."

Trevor looked at David with a somewhat frightened stare. Something is seriously wrong! Of course, absolutely nothing was wrong; Trevor was just being overly paranoid and it was rather comical in a sense.

David stood up and reached out his hand to help Trevor up. Trevor cautiously took it and brushed himself off. They headed in the direction of the flat.

"Woody? Are you asleep?" Kisch whispered.

"No, love." Woody kissed her ear.

"I think I heard something."

"Oh, that was just Mick and Jacqueline or something. There’s nothing to worry about."

"No, it was outside."

"Then it was Trevor."

"Oh…maybe David’s here." With that thought, she quickly put on her bra and underwear. She didn’t want to be completely naked when she met David for the first time, although maybe on the second or third time it would be fine…

"Why, I…" Woody started getting mad.

"Woody! Don’t get angry! Stop it now!"

Woody took a deep breath. "I’m sorry."

"That’s better."

"Okay."

Moments later, the door opened. In came Trevor accompanied by the one and only David Bowie. Kisch had the wind knocked out of her by an invisible fist. She jumped up and gave David a big hug, almost forgetting to hold her leotard in front of her body. "Wow!" she whispered.

David looked down and half-smiled at Kisch. He was used to this…that very night at the end of the concert a fan jumped on stage and gave him a big hug. Of course, the zealous fan was then promptly escorted out of the premises by security guards. Too bad he didn’t have any of those guards now. He wanted to straighten things out with Woody and he did not need any of his faithful followers stopping him from doing so.

"Hello," he said, trying to act coy.

"Wow," Kisch said in wild wonder. She was speechless. David took the matters into his own hands and guided an amazed Kisch to the bed, where he sat her down.

"Now, Woody, I have something to say to you."

"You’d better have!" Woody looked at Kisch. "I mean, what do you want to say?"

"Well…" David paused, searching for the right words. "I want to apologise for what I did this evening and for what agony I have surely put you through. I said what I said because…because I wanted to get rid of the damn character, that’s all."

"And in the process, you sacked me?"

"No, not at all. You’re still my drummer. Just not with Ziggy Stardust—and not in the Spiders from Mars."

Woody paused for a moment, although he knew full well what he was about to say. "David, I’m afraid I can’t be your drummer anymore."

"What?!" David was completely taken aback.

"I always pictured myself going to the top with you. But now, when you publicly announce that we aren’t going to perform anymore, I have to live up to what you said."

"But that statement was for Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, not Mick Ronson and Trevor Bolder and—"

"Stop this now or I’ll kick your bloody arse!" Kisch looked at him with sad eyes. "I mean—stop it!"

"Fine," said David, turning up his nose. "I don’t need you. But I’ll be losing a great drummer and friend."

"Enough, enough. Listen, I have a friend named Aynsley Dunbar. He’s an aspiring drummer with a lot of experience. He’d love to be your drummer."

"I’m going to need a drummer soon," David nodded. "Yes, I am going to be doing a record of cover songs and then an adaptation of Orwell’s 1984."

"Hey!" Kisch exclaimed. "What was that—1984? That’s Margaret’s favourite novel! Wait until she hears this!"

"I almost forgot about her!" Woody said, embarrassed.

"It would be kind of hard to do that, love," Kisch laughed. "It’s her flat, after all."

"Oh, that’s right!" Woody chuckled. "Why don’t we check on her?"

"Okay," Kisch agreed. "But first, would you like a drink, David? How about you, Trevor? You’ve been quiet!"

David had his fill of champagne and wine already, but he accepted Kisch’s offer. "Sure, what have you got?"

Kisch handed him a half-spent bottle of Moet. "Here you go, best of the bunch." She reached for another bottle for Trevor. "Trevor? Would you like some?"

"Sure," said Trevor, taking the bottle.

"Who is this Margaret that you speak of?" asked David after he swallowed a bit of the Moet.

"She owns the flat. She’s a great girl." Kisch nodded.

"Oh. Does she have a boyfriend?" David winked at Kisch.

"Yes…" Kisch thought. "Actually, she told me that she doesn’t really like him that much."

"You sure wouldn’t be able to tell she doesn’t like him just by looking at the two of them together!" Woody laughed.

"I don’t know why she pretends to like him…maybe she told me wrong. Maybe she does like him. But Margaret is honest, and she’d only tell me the truth."

"Well, then. Does she have a girlfriend?" David asked, completely serious.

Kisch was taken aback. "No! Not that I know of! Goodness! Unless she has kept that to herself. But…ugh!"

David looked at her, puzzled. "What’s wrong with that, dear?"

"Um…nothing’s wrong with that…it’s just that…uh…" Kisch felt awkward.

"I understand," David agreed. "Not all people are like that."

"Right," Kisch said. "Now, I’m going to go check on Margaret. You all don’t have to come with me."

"Oh, but I’d love to," said David, putting his bottle of Moet onto the bare floor and stretching his arms. "If she doesn’t have a boyfriend then I’d like to meet this chick!" David laughed.

"Well, then Margaret might be the one for you," chuckled Kisch. "She absolutely adores you. She always talks about…er…you and her…um…you know…"

"Oh, she wants me to give her some sweet head, eh?" David eyed Kisch in a mocking sort of manner and laughed. "Well, well, well. She may be in luck!"

"That would be probably be the greatest moment in her life!" Kisch was very open since she had been having some more of the excellent champagne, compliments of Woody’s idea to drink some more. "Here, let’s go check on her. Woody? Trevor? Are you two coming?"

"No, we’ll just stay here and talk," said Woody.

"Okay, let’s go." Kisch led the way to the dark bedroom where Margaret was inhabiting.

"Oh, Mick!" giggled Jacqueline. "Stop it!"

Margaret laughed as she tickled Jacqueline. She now knew the person had to be either Jacqueline or Kisch because of certain characteristics and features that Margaret had discovered. She concluded that the person had to be Jacqueline because Kisch had longer hair and a Russian accent. Sure, the person was not Tommy, but she was not complaining! Besides, she liked girls as much as she liked boys…she didn’t really care for Tommy anyway. Jacqueline was a much better lover than Tommy. Margaret gave Jacqueline a big kiss and laughed out loud, trying to make her voice sound somewhat man-like so Jacqueline wouldn’t think something was amiss. Jacqueline, Margaret decided, must have been considerably plastered for her inability to notice that Margaret was not Mick. She also determined that at any second Jacqueline could notice something was wrong, so Margaret was trying to enjoy herself to the fullest.

"Oh, Mick, Mick, Mick. What will I ever do with you?" asked Jacqueline playfully.

Margaret thought for a while and cleared her throat, attempting to make her voice sound deeper. "Ahem! Well, love, I could think of ninety-nine things that I could do with you, but what you choose to do with me is your own decision!" said Margaret, remembering one of her favourite songs—a Bowie song never released called ‘Sweet Head.’

"Oooh!" squealed Jacqueline. "Why don’t you show me all those ninety-nine things? Then later I can figure out what I can do with you!"

"Good lord!" said Margaret jokingly. "All of them?"

"Yes! All of them!" Jacqueline rolled on top of Margaret. "Every single one."

"Here’s one right now, then," said Margaret demurely as she took Jacqueline and gave her a rather risqué kiss on the mouth.

"Mmm…" murmured Jacqueline. "One’s enough…but give me more!"

"Of course, love," Margaret was enjoying every second of this. "Here’s another…" Margaret paused as she lifted the covers off of Jacqueline’s bare torso. Even though the room was pitch-black, she knew it was bare because Margaret herself had removed Jacqueline’s costume long ago. My, Margaret thought, what a fine figure Jackie has! With this thought she ran her finger over Jacqueline’s supple, voluptuous flesh. "Ohhh, Jackie! How I crave you so!"

"Here I am, take me, take me!" Jacqueline grabbed Margaret’s shoulders and kissed her lustfully. They rolled over each other on the creaky bed, kissing, when suddenly there was a bright flash of light.

"What the…" Margaret mumbled. She rubbed her eyes and looked in the doorway. There was Kisch, standing and staring at the two girls on the bed, who were topless, in each others’ embrace!

"EEEEEEEEEK!" Jacqueline screamed when she realised that she and Margaret were on the bed together. She sprang up, grabbed her costume, and pressed this tightly to her bare front. "Oh my god! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" yelled Jacqueline. "I thought you were Mick!"

"Oh, really?" asked Margaret, trying to seem innocuous.

"Yes, really! Did you know you were—with me?"

"Oh, no," Margaret said as she attempted to act genuine.

Jacqueline stared at her. "Oh, god no. Hell no. You aren’t—"

"Whatever do you mean?" Margaret glowed and tried to make a little halo appear above her head.

"I can’t believe it!" Jacqueline yelled. "You two-faced bitch! I trusted you!"

"What?" Margaret felt guilty. She never knew that her innocent little romp with Jacqueline could have turned into such an atrocious scene.

"I knew I shouldn’t have come! You…you damn dyke!" Jacqueline ran out of the room and out of the flat, where she slammed the door behind her and cried. Kisch was still standing in the doorway, even though she had almost been knocked over by Jacqueline. Jacqueline had been completely blinded by rage and had failed to notice the tall figure in the white suit standing in the shadows behind Kisch.

Kisch shook her head. "My, my…so she is that way…" she said as she went back to be with her love, Woody.

David then came forth out of the shadows, much to Margaret’s surprise and astonishment. She turned as white as the sheet that she was clutching in the front of her body. She had admired David for such a long time, and here he was, sitting next to her—of all places—on a bed! This was all too perfect.

"Oh my god! You are my god! Well—I mean, not GOD god, but A god. Wow! I can’t believe this!" Margaret sat on the bed, staring at her idol.

"Well, Margaret, I’ve heard a lot about you," smiled David.

Margaret could not believe that David actually knew her name! "What have you heard about me? Is it good or bad?"

David grinned. "I’ve heard you’re good. Good on many different levels, especially in bed."

"Good Lord! Where did you hear that?" asked Margaret modestly, blushing.

"I have my connections," David laughed. "Also, first-hand knowledge. I witnessed that scene with that young lady. Was it your first time?"

Margaret chuckled. "Goodness, no! You do mean with another girl, right?"

"Yes."

"No, I’ve done it before. Apparently Jackie hadn’t."

"Yes, apparently. How about with blokes like me?"

"Not with ones like you, but yes, with blokes. If I would do it with blokes like you…" Margaret paused and scooted herself closer to David. "…or even better, with you…I don’t know if I’d recover, it would be so good." She said the last part very slowly and seductively, adding a few motions of licking her lips.

"I don’t know if you’d recover either, my dear. Why don’t we do a little experimenting and find out? You know, I have heard what you wish to do with me. And let me say, I fully agree with your wants and desires."

During David’s speech, Margaret felt herself heating up internally. Her ultimate wish was to meet David Bowie, but to make love with him was…unbelievable! She couldn’t believe her luck.

"So," David said to Margaret, "What do you think?"

Margaret felt so incredibly passionate, eager, and libidinous, she was almost speechless. "Oh, lord, I have dreamed and dreamed of screwing you! Of course, let’s get at it!"

Margaret threw herself upon David, who kissed her fervently. After a minute or two, David said, "Wait a minute, love. Let’s go to my hotel. How about that?"

Margaret looked at him dreamily. "Of course…whatever you want to do." She was under a spell and was entranced by the superstar sitting next to her—rather who she was sitting on.

"Alright then, I’ll phone for the limousine. Where’s your phone, love?"

"I’ll show you," Margaret said as she picked up her cape. She took his hand and led him to the kitchen where a phone was. She was very lucky to have a phone already there. Margaret had bought it with her own hard-earned money. "Here it is, love," Margaret said as she turned a small light on. She gave him a lustful kiss and he returned the favour.

David rang up his chauffeur and gave him directions to the flat. "He’ll be here soon," David said when he hung up the telephone. "It’s already half-past one, so he had better, right?"

Margaret laughed. "Of course! We’re wasting valuable time right now."

"Shall we go outside?" David asked.

"Sure. I need some air."

Margaret and David walked, hand in hand, to the door. "Goodbye, Kisch. Goodbye, Woody," Margaret said, bidding farewell to her friends. Kisch seemed shocked even now.

"Oh, Margaret," Kisch said, "Where is Thomas? He wasn’t with you…"

"That’s right!" Margaret realised. "Where is he?"

"I don’t know," Woody shrugged.

"David," Margaret said, "Excuse me for a second. I have to look for Tommy."

"Yes, love. I understand." David turned to talk with Woody. Margaret saw this as her cue to exit and look for Tommy. She never really cared for him, but she felt she owed something to him after all he did for her.

She walked into the room where Mick was asleep. She had thought for a fraction of a second that Thomas and Mick could be making out, but when she saw that Mick was the only one on the bed and the only one in the room, she had to come up with a new plan. Thomas was traditional and he would never do anything like that anyway. He was one of those who were "strictly for the ladies." Margaret chuckled under her breath at the thought.

She walked into the den. She was almost not going to look in there, for she had not shown anyone that part of the flat. Nevertheless, she walked in there anyway and found Thomas asleep on the floor. "Now how did you get in here?" Margaret asked. Hearing no response, she held her cape between her teeth and took it upon herself to drag Thomas into her bedroom.

She picked up his feet and started pulling. "Gee, I’m glad you’re so light," she muttered sarcastically. "Ungh!" she groaned.

After a long time of laboured pulling, she plopped him onto the bed. She went out to the door after she put on the cape and bid a final farewell to Woody and Kisch. She took David’s hand and kissed him.

"Did you find him?" Woody asked her.

"Yes, I found him asleep in the den, so I dragged him into our bedroom and put him on the bed."

"That was nice of you," Kisch said. Kisch treated Margaret differently after discovering that Margaret took a fancy to boys as well as girls. Kisch thought it was alright, but it was a little shocking. Kisch laughed and thought, She certainly doesn’t act like she’s bisexual around David!

Margaret kissing David intensely backed up Kisch’s thought. David grinned and said, "Come along, let’s go."

Margaret glowed. She looked like she was on cloud nine. She waved to Woody and Kisch and then walked out the door with David. Before she walked out, she mouthed to Kisch, "Ooooh!!! DAVID BOWIE!"

Upon walking outside, Margaret and David found Jacqueline crying on the doorstep. Margaret felt guilty. "Oh, Jacqueline, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm." She sat down and put her arm around her shoulders.

Jacqueline shuddered and threw Margaret’s arm off of her. "You’re not sorry! You enjoyed exploiting me!"

Margaret sighed. "Well, I do admit that you were one of the best I’ve had.

But—"

"See, there you go again! You don’t regret it one bit, do you?"

"Yes, love—I mean—yes, Jacqueline, I do regret it! I really do. I hate to see you like this—your pretty face all wet and blotchy—your…body all shrugged up on a doorstep in the middle of the night…"

"That’s all you care about! My looks and my body. You can’t be understanding when all you want is my body. Don’t you see? You’re such like a man."

"Excuse me?" said David. Jacqueline had not seen him until now and was made angrier.

"What?" she said, looking at David. "Now you’ve got puffs backing you up? Look, Dave, I don’t know where you came from and I don’t care, but I’m leaving. I don’t want to see you or that bitch again!" Jacqueline yelled as she ran inside.

"What have I done?" sobbed Margaret, dropping to her knees. "I never meant any harm…but now I’ve lost a friend!"

David looked sadly down at Margaret. "I’m sorry, love. That’s happened to me before a few times…Angie caught me in bed with another man. We have a very open relationship, you know, but I guess this certain occasion was too much for Angie for some reason."

"Jacqueline was such a good friend…she was so good to me…!"

"She’ll come round."

Margaret looked up at David, tears streaming down her face. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes. I think so," he said with a kiss.

"Here, when’s the limousine going to be here?" Margaret asked, getting up.

"Ten minutes, I suppose."

"I’m going to try to straighten things out with Jackie. Will you come get me when he comes?" Margaret opened the door and started to step inside.

"Of course, love! I wouldn’t pass up a chick like you on a night like this!" David grinned.

Margaret gave him a big kiss. "You are so super!" She walked inside the flat, preparing herself to give a heartfelt apology to one of her best friends. She hoped Jacqueline was alright and hadn’t done anything crazy. Well, here goes, she thought as she started searching for Jacqueline.

"Sniff…sniff…" Jacqueline was crying in a small room that she supposed to be a den. "How could she take advantage of me like that?" she mumbled to herself. "I can’t believe it…why, why, why?"

She was curled up in a ball with her head between her arms. "Oh, god!" she wailed. "Why did she…?! And I thought she was Mick…!" Jacqueline paused, coming to a realisation. "I have to admit, she was a lot better than him…no!" She immediately withdrew her thought. "I can’t say that!"

Margaret was standing in the doorway, listening to Jacqueline’s sorrowful soliloquy. She was blinking back tears. She finally decided to walk in and say something.

"Oh…" Jacqueline cried, "How could she? Did she mean any harm?"

"No," Margaret said. "I did not mean any harm whatsoever. I would never hurt you, Jackie."

"What?" Jacqueline said, turning to Margaret. "How long have you been there?" Jacqueline hoped Margaret hadn’t heard the bit about Margaret being better than Mick.

"Long enough, my friend," Margaret sat down and put her arm around Jacqueline. "I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong. I never meant any harm!"

Jacqueline looked at Margaret. "Oh, Margaret, I can’t stay angry with you! You’re one of my best friends!"

"You’re one of my best friends, too." Margaret gave her a hug.

"I’m sorry I got all mad at you. I just was a bit shocked. Well, you could imagine!"

"I don’t blame you! I would’ve been shocked too. I’m sorry for what I did…it was totally wrong. I shouldn’t have done that, or even thought of doing it. The moment I knew you weren’t Tommy, I should’ve got away from there."

"Oh, it’s alright, I guess. Let me tell you, I completely forgive you."

"Thank you."

"Margaret, by the way," Jacqueline said, looking at Margaret curiously, "Did you hear that thing about…um…you being better than Mick?"

Margaret laughed. "Yes, I did, in fact. I’m flattered!"

"Oh! Well, you were," Jacqueline said, nodding. "You know, I’d do it again."

Margaret was taken aback. "What?! I thought you were straight! Good God, how you acted when you saw it was me…you sure fooled me!"

"Oh, wait a minute, no, no! I am straight! But that was lots of fun…! You are a very good…um…"

"I see," Margaret chuckled. "So are you. You’re a very good lover, if that’s what you were trying to say."

"Um, yes. Something like that. Maybe we can…um…" Jacqueline was clearly uncomfortable, talking about this with Margaret.

"Sure, I see what you mean. Some other time, let’s get together. How about that? It would be fun!"

"Yes, I’d like that," Jacqueline smiled. "But then I wouldn’t be straight anymore if we’d do that, right?"

Margaret shrugged. "I guess not. Oh, I don’t know! It’s up to you what you are. Whenever you want to do that is fine with me."

Jacqueline grinned. "How about now?" she said, joking around.

Margaret sensed Jacqueline was not being serious and she laughed. "Now, love, would be a bad time! I’m going to go make love to a Mr David Bowie in the near future at some fancy hotel!"

"Ooooh! Really?" Jacqueline asked. "I envy you! How did you pull that one off?"

"I don’t know," Margaret said. "He said that he heard about me somewhere, so I’m guessing Kisch told him about me. What a nice girl that Kisch is! And so lovely!"

Jacqueline snickered. "Kisch told him? Why didn’t she tell him about me?" she asked, smiling.

Margaret looked at her hands and put her head in them. "Please, don’t ask me that!" She said, laughing.

"So we can’t do it now?" Jacqueline asked, still smiling.

"Well, love, I suppose I could do a little something right now…" Margaret took Jacqueline’s top off again and kissed her deliciously. Jacqueline returned the favour and kissed Margaret. Jacqueline reached under Margaret’s cape and kissed her some more.

"Mmm, Margaret…" Jacqueline said after they let each other go.

"You know, I’d say you’re not straight, how you kissed me then!" Margaret joked.

Jacqueline slapped her playfully. "Hey now! I like men!"

"Oh, so do I! Especially David Bowie! I can’t believe it! I’m actually going to be in a hotel room…on a bed, maybe…with him!"

"What do you mean, maybe? If you’re going to his room, don’t you think you’ll do more than just have a casual chat and a drink? Come on, this is David Bowie here!"

"What, you’re saying he’s a whore or something?" Margaret asked jokingly.

"No, certainly not. You know what I mean! Oh, Margaret, Margaret, Margaret. You’re so lucky! Give him a kiss for me, will you?"

Margaret suddenly had an idea. "If you come out now, David himself may just give you one."

"Holy crap! Really?" asked Jacqueline, jumping to her feet. "Show me the way!"

Margaret took Jacqueline’s hand and led her outside to where David was standing.

"All’s well, David," Margaret said. "Could you do a favour for me, though?"

"Sure, love," David said. "What is it?"

Margaret grinned. "Give Jackie a kiss, will you? For me?"

"Lord, girl, you don’t have to ask me to do that! I was going to help myself!" David laughed and took hold of a stunned Jacqueline.

"Oh…my…" Jacqueline stuttered when she realised she was in David’s arms, about to be kissed.

David kissed her libidinously and she him. When David finally let go, Jackie could barely stand. She had a fanciful look on her face.

"Goodness me," David smiled, "I can see why you didn’t want to leave Jackie, Margaret!"

Jacqueline stumbled over to Margaret and leaned on her shoulder, looking dreamily at David.

Soon after, a Rolls Royce pulled up and a clean-cut chauffeur jumped out, opening the back door for David and Margaret.

"Well, looks like I’m going," Margaret gave Jacqueline a hug. "Oh, I can’t believe it!" she whispered excitedly.

"Neither can I! Get going, now. Have fun, but don’t forget about me!" Jacqueline said with a smile.

"How could I forget about you, Jackie?" Margaret gave Jacqueline another hug and a small kiss. "See you later!"

"Okay! Bye, Margaret! Bye, David!" Jacqueline waved ecstatically.

Margaret and David waved back as they got into the Rolls Royce. The chauffeur closed the door, and they were off to one of the most elegant hotels in London, The Savoy.

---This page last modified: 29 Jun 2002--

-Ziggy Stardust Scarf (1973)