KIND OF WOMAN THAT'LL HAUNT YOU

A/N: I debated whether or not to do this story, but I’m gonna give it a shot because the plot bunny is just nagging away in my mind. I’m an enormous fan of Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks, and Lindsey Buckingham and I actually wrote a ton of Stevie and Lindsey fanfics before I got hooked on Doctor Who. I wanted to combine two of my greatest loves, so this is the result. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One

Rose yawned and stretched when she heard her alarm clock go off. It was the beginning of another morning on the TARDIS.

“Mornin’ TARDIS,” she said.

The TARDIS nudged her mind.

“Doctor in the console room?”

The TARDIS rumbled.

“Thought so,” she said.

She got dressed quickly and headed toward the console room.

When she got there, she found the Doctor dancing around the console while Stand Back blared from his CD player. She stood by the back door, giggling, while he jiggled his hips and waved his arms around.

“Stand back; stand back, in the middle of the room. I did not hear from you,” he sang.

He noticed Rose standing there and threw up his arms.

“Stevie Nicks, the Queen of Rock and Roll! Gotta love her!”

He resumed dancing. Rose, grinning from ear to ear, hurried over and danced around the console with him. The song ended and both of the leaned against the console, laughing.

“Now that’s one good way to wake up!” she said.

“I’m glad you approve because I was thinking we could take a day off and go see Fleetwood Mac in concert.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. See, I’ve seen just about every major group or singer in my 901 years. Everybody from Buddy Holly to The Beatles, Elvis to The Eagles, Joplin, Hendrix, Morrison, all the greats, and I’ve met most of them. But, I have yet to meet Fleetwood Mac. So, how about it? Fancy seeing them in London, Rumours tour, 1977?”

“Sounds great,” Rose said.

The Doctor gave her a million watt grin.

“Then, my faithful companion, slip on your boots, put on your top hat, and throw a shawl around your shoulders. We are ‘70’s bound.”

He did his usual manic dance around the console while Rose sat in the captain’s chair and watched.

(July 27th, 2009, Los Angeles, California…)

Stevie Nicks let out a yawn and took a swig from her water bottle. They had arrived in Los Angeles the night before and had stayed in hotels while the roadies set up the stage. Now all of them were there for a full run through of the show, making sure that everything was set up properly and all the equipment was working. Stevie hated getting up early to do this, but she would rather get it done early and get it out of the way for the day, than do it just before show time, when her nervous stomach was in overdrive.

Still, for all the hassles that touring brought, she wouldn’t trade life on the stage for anything. Even better, they had convinced Christine McVie to join them this time, which was Stevie’s prerequisite for touring again with the Mac. The last time they had toured was in 2003 and Christine had declined the offer to work on the CD that preceded it and do the world tour. Stevie had missed her terribly and had put her foot down when Mick suggested getting the band back together for another tour. Last time she had been the only woman in the band and although she had her fellow backup singers and friends, Lori and Sharon for company, she still missed her best friend, not to mention she felt outnumbered against the three men. Now, she had someone to talk girl talk with and she didn’t feel like she was the token female in a boy’s club.

She turned a corner and headed down the hallway that led to their dressing rooms. As she neared them, she saw Lindsey Buckingham coming out of one of the rooms.

“Hey, Steves, mornin’” he said, cheerfully.

“Morning, Lindsey,” she muttered.

Lindsey raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, I can already tell you’re not in a good mood this morning,” he said, dryly.

“Lindsey, I’m barely awake. I just got up an hour ago, got dressed, and came down here for the rehearsal. I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet, so I’m sorry if I’m not dancing and skipping down the halls with a big smile on my face. Being sixty years old does that to you!”

“And being fifty eight is completely different?” Lindsey countered, “I’m not exactly in my heyday either, but at least I can muster up enough energy to give you a cheerful good morning!”

“Ugh! Not now! I don’t wanna get in an argument with you this early in the morning!” Stevie said.

Lindsey’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m not arguing, Stevie. I’m only saying hello. You’re the one who’s turning it into an argument!”

He held up his hands when Stevie glowered at him.

“Alright, alright, I’m backing off. I don’t want to fight any more than you do. I’ll let you wake up in peace.”

Stevie sighed.

I’m sorry, Linds, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Lindsey’s irritated look melted away and he came closer to her.

“What’s wrong, Steves?” he asked, in a concerned voice, “hip bothering you again?”

Stevie shook her head.

“No, I…had another dream last night.”

Lindsey understood. His former lover had psychic abilities and most of the time that ability came through in her dreams. She had been able to take advantage of that and use what she saw to spark ideas for some of her songs. But, there were some dreams that had also foretold the future, specifically the deaths of those closest to them. She had seen the death of her best friend, Robin, just before it happened, and the death of her dad, not to mention his dad, brother, and mother. He knew if a dream was causing her to lose sleep, it must be something significant.

“What was the dream about?” he asked.

Stevie glanced at him. Most of the time, she was hesitant about telling anyone what she saw in her dreams. But, Lindsey was different. She had known him since she was eighteen years old and even though he was now married with a family of his own, she still loved him deeply, and she knew that there was still a special place in his heart for her. They fought like lions from time to time, but they had also been through all kinds of hell together. They had known poverty when they lived together in a dingy little apartment, trying to make it big as Buckingham Nicks before Mick Fleetwood finally discovered them and asked them to join his band. They had suffered through drug abuse, alcoholism, the pleasures and pain of overnight mega-stardom and came out the other end of all that, alive and sane. Lindsey could be headstrong, temperamental, irritating, and exasperating, but when push came to shove, she knew she could truly count on him to be there for her in every way. He was the only one of her band mates that she could trust completely, that she felt truly understood her, knew her as well as she knew herself, which was why she had no qualms about telling him her dream.

“I…saw this weird, blue phone booth,” she said, “but, not a phone booth like we have in LA. It was a big wooden box with little frosted windows and I think it said something like police box around the top of it.”

She glanced at Lindsey. He nodded, and she went on.

“The front door of this phone booth opened and a man and a woman came out. The man was tall and thin with unruly brown hair. He looked like a man, Linds, but there was something…alien about him, like he was somehow not of this world. The girl was young, late teens, early twenties with blonde hair. But, I didn’t get the same feeling about her that I did with the man. The man seemed ancient somehow, although he looked like he was only in his thirties. Ancient and alien, oh, it gives me the chills just describing it.”

She looked at Lindsey. He still hadn’t said a word, but she could tell he was taking all this in and weighing it in his mind.

“There’s more, Linds,” she finally said.

She came closer and put her hand on his arm. Lindsey noticed the fear in her eyes and put his hand on top of hers.

“Go on, Stevie,” he said, gently.

Stevie looked into his blue gray eyes.

“I sensed something else about this man,” she said, “I sensed…an aura of death around him. It hung heavy on him like a shroud.”

She shivered at her words. She neared even closer to Lindsey and put her other hand on his chest.

“Lindsey, this man, he’s coming. I can feel it. He’s heading towards us and when he comes…death will follow.”

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