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When Vanessa was a little girl her father had paid for drumming lessons. Partly because she'd watched a lot of MTV. Partly because Mr. Rae was a little bit in love with both Dave Grohl and John Bonham, and he'd worried that his daughter would take too much to less worthy mucisians if he did not guide her down the right path. Partly because Vanessa had had a penchant for temper tantrums anyway, and it'd been easier to put drumsticks in her hands than to let her break all of their kitchen plates.

For a long time she'd imagined that one day she would play drums for a famous rock band. She'd tried once. Years ago. With Damian. But that had never gotten off the ground.

Today she was at a bar, handing out flyers that she'd only managed to put together after asking John JR to help her with the computer stuff. The flyers came in all the colours of the rainbow. They were bright, and the information was on the clutterred side, but there could be no mistaking the love and hardwork that Vanessa had put into them. She'd doodled a little stick figure of herself, a microphone in her hands, at the bottom of each in purple gel pen. Little music notes (again, gel pen) floated up the sides.

These words took up most of the paper:



There was a phone number scribbled across the bottom.

Vanessa was carrying a whole stack of them when she walked by Hitch's table, happened to notice the rhythm that he tapped against his thigh. She paused to watch him, recognized that he was on point.

"Hey," she grinned at him, slapped a green flyer down on the table, turned it towards Hitch for him to examine. "Do you play?"

Fortunately for Hitch, effort was Vanessa's middle name. Well, no- actually it was Alice, but it probably should have been effort. When Vanessa set her heart on something, there was almost nothing that could keep her from it. While it could be argued that Vulcan had happened to her, it was, perhaps, truest to say that Vanessa had gone looking for her. Before she'd had any idea who Vulcan even was. Wide-eyed and naive, armed with little more than a crowbar and nerves of steel, Vanessa had started out on that path as Super Van. With dreams of doing something good. And then discovered the volcano inside of herself.

Starting a band was not quite so noble an adventure. Practice and performing would take time and attention away from the war.

Sometimes when Vanessa sat alone at night she thought about having Labyrinthite's fingers in her chest, wrapped tight around her starseed. Then, always, she remembered Titan, who had reached for it at her request with hands as large as they were delicate. It was important, his reluctant caress had taught her, to make time for life.

"I sing a little."

A lot. Vanessa sang a lot.

She was grinning at Hitch. Delighted that he was self-taught, because she had never taken a voice lesson in her life. That put them on equal footing, as far as she was concerned. When they played together -if they played together- they might not sound professional, but Vanessa was eager to try. And the idea of starting out raw like that appealed to the part of Vanessa that fell in love with everything just a little bit imperfect.

"I wanna start a band." She helped herself to a chair at Hitch's table, gestured for the waitress to bring her a beer. "I play some guitar and keyboard too."

A pause, followed by a playful smile.

"Not very well, though. Mostly I just mash the keys together and sometimes it sounds pretty nice. Other times? Not so much."

Oh boy.

The prospect of actually having to write music had never occured to Vanessa. She could sort of read it- having paid more attention to her drum lessons than Mr. Gordon's English lectures in high school, but she wasn't ever going to be no Mozart. Did not even really want to be. Her greatest passion was for war. Playing music? Starting a band?

Going home with a beautiful woman?

It was all supposed to be about fun. Though, Vanessa would have been lying if she'd said her decision to use multiple colours of paper for her flyers had nothing to do with Jarias' rainbow fancy.

"To be honest," Vanessa said, leaning forwards with both elbows on the table, grinning at him. "I never thought about that part. I've never written music before. I could totally try, though. I might be good at it."

She was as sincere in her enthusiasm as Hitch was misleading in his indifference. That he had not found it within himself to get excited did not faze Vanessa, who was so often the loudest and the most emotional guppy in a sea full of stoic soldier fish. It had been a point of embarassment for her. In the past. At school. At work. On the battlefield. But with Hitch, thrilled by the prospect of starting a new adventure, Vanessa felt no shame over her feelings. Did not try to hide them.

'I know a guy that plays guitar.'

"That's fantastic!" The waitress showed up with Vanessa's beer. She took it graciously, murmured a thank you and gave a generous tip before turning her attention back to Hitch. "Do you think he'll want to play in our band?"

Yes. It was 'our' band, now. Unless Hitch straight up told her 'no' at any point in their conversation, Vanessa was determined to get his phone number. To invite him over for a jam session. To party with him and his guitar-playing friend like it was New Years Eve in 1999.

"I have a garage. We can practice there."

"Yeah!"

Vanessa pretty much meant everything she said from the bottom of her heart, and was quite certain that she had never ******** around anyone before. Not on purpose. She took a moment to think about it -scoured her memory, just to be sure- and came up empty handed.

She thought it was a little bit curious that Hitch doubted her sincerity. Took a sip of her beer, regarded him thoughtfully over the neck of the bottle. The way he spoke and the questions he asked reminded her a little bit of the way she had come to feel about dating.

"You sound like you've had your heart broken a couple of times over this." She cocked an eyebrow at him, tilted her head to the side. "I tried to start a band once when I was... sixteen or seventeen. I can't remember. It doesn't matter. Anyway- things came up, and we never really played together or anything. But I've..."

Vanessa ran her fingers through her hair.

"I've had some things happen in my life recently. I've realized some things, you know? And I want to give this another shot. I'm not saying we'll go pro or anything. I don't dream of going on tour or groupies or whatever," she waved at the air, and then flashed Hitch one of her best smiles. "But I want to get drunk sometimes and play music and have fun."

"Yeah, that would be ********' sweet," Vanessa was grinning around the mouth of her beer bottle, twinkling joy at Hitch with her bright eyes. It was hard for her to imagine a life without Sailor Vulcan- without war.

Life on the road, writing and playing music for crowds of people who loved the thump of the bass in their chests as much as she did-- wouldn't that be exciting? Sleeping in a bus. Dancing with beautiful men and women. Taking shot after shot after shot.

It would feel like freedom, but only for a little while.

Destiny City was a much a part of Vanessa as the bones that held her together. She could not forget about the war -and the people who needed her here- anymore than she could live without the blood that coursed through her veins. When she started to speak again, she was thinking about long, milky white legs and blonde hair with rainbow tips...

"I'm sure we'll be able to find some gigs close to home. I know some people."

She took another swig of her beer.

"What do you say then, Hitch?" Vanessa held out a hand for him to shake, cocked an eyebrow. "Are you in?"

The grin that had started around the mouth of her beer bottle split Vanessa's face in two when Hitch shook her offered hand. He was in. She was in. THEY WERE GOING TO START A ******** BAND.

Vanessa could not contain her excitement. It exploded out of her in a little peel of joyous laughter. She hand-flailed, and then gestured for the waitress to bring them both another drink.

"I'm paying," she said, as though Hitch was going to argue about it.

She had come to the bar tonight with pamphlets and hope. Neither she nor Hitch were trained, but Vanessa was far from put off by that. Nobody started out an expert. Before Super Van, Vanessa had only ever scrapped with dicks and bullies at school. She had learned how to stand for a fight. How to watch and anticipate her opponent. Together, she and Hitch would learn.

AND THEY WERE GOING TO ******** ROCK.