Love Potion #1921 (Chapter One)
Title: Love Potion #1921 (Chapter One)
Chapter: Uno
Rating: R/NC17 (overall, probably not this part though)
Pairings: Jeith and Poger mainly, but also Koger
Time period: Tommy recording sessions and the Who American Tour 1971
Warnings: Some (just a few) swear words, mentions of adult content, but no explicit material (that'll be a bit later)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Who. This is a work of fiction and was not intended to be taken seriously.
Summary: Keith is always up to all kinds of shenanigans, including the discovery of a powerful love potion. But if the powerful substance gets into the wrong hands, who knows what could happen?
A/N: Hey it's Blakely here. Wow. So, this idea came to me awhile ago, and I've been working on the context for a while but I finally spit out Chapter Uno. Enjoy... I have a feeling y'all will really love what's in store for this story :3 Success for my first Who fic!
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Chapter One (Keith's POV)
"Alright, that's it. Let's just call it a day, huh?"
Keith took off his headphones, thankful the rest of the day wouldn't have to be spent cooped up in the studio. Keith Moon was the kind of man who couldn't be confined for too long, or else mischief would happen. It was obviously in everyone else's best interest to quit for the day as well; Pete and Roger had been complaining about hangovers all morning, and John's eyes were lined with dark circles. Keith knew he looked worse than the lot of them, but appearance was the least of his concerns on an inviting, lively Saturday morning.
Waving goodbye to the guitarist and singer, he headed towards the doors, when John caught his eye at the corner of the room, gathering his things. "Hey, John," the drummer called to him.
" Yeah?"
"D'ya still wanna go for a walk with me?" he asked hopefully.
"Nah, sorry mate. I've gotta get some sleep."
"Oh," Keith replied, disappointed. Usually John would go walking around the town with him after recording sessions if it wasn't too late, grabbing a bite or finding something to do. He couldn't blame the bassist for turning him down, though; he really looked like shit. "Hope you feel better tomorrow!"
"You too, son."
The sun was bright and lively on Keith's face as he stepped out of the building. It was the kind of day for something fun, he thought, heading off in one direction with no real destination. But what? The thrill of the weekend and the edginess of freedom beckoned the man to keep walking, and all he could do was hope something interesting came his way.
And his way something interesting came.
Looking up from the stone he was kicking along the narrow path, Keith frowned. There was a mysterious, tent-like shack beside the road, one that Keith had never noticed before. The bilboard by the building simply read, "Sally's" enticed him, as did the large, inviting purple front doors and a sign by the window that read, "Come in, and your life shall be forever changed."
Without a moment's hesitation, Keith grinned to himself and started up the steps to the shack, knocking on the purple wooden door. A slight pause, when the deadbolt behind the knob simply clicked, letting the drummer in.
He was immediately greeted with the dark, foggy atmosphere of the front room. The walls were covered in a sort of felt-like purple wallpaper, decorated with random abstract images and knickknacks. Everything about the place screamed suspicion and seduction, and through the heavy unrecognizable aroma in the haze, Keith smiled toothily. Not dope, he thought about the smoke, not drugs... But it was fantastic. The obscureness of it all was enticing.
“Hello?” he called out, observing a shiny ornament that looked like an animal made out of tin hanging on the wall.
"Keep walking, sweetie," a sweet voice sung back, like honey on warm rolls to Keith's ears. He followed the sound of her voice, continuing down the dimly-lit hall where the ceiling almost touched his head. Walking through a beaded doorway, he emerged into a larger chamber, where lush curtains draped over every window and the candlelights seemed to glow ten times brighter from the mysterious fog. Flashy, variegrated sofas and cushions completed the furnature, including a throne-like couch where a woman sat. Keith did a double-take.
"Welcome, and you are who?"
The woman stood out to Keith not just due to her kaleidoscopic-like clothing, or her vibrant orange hair like the gentle waves from an ocean of sun, or her distinct Scottish accent unlike any other, or her baby-doll porcelain face, or the obvious mysteries concealed behind her provocative golden eyes. Ultimately it was the aura she emitted to the drummer, soothing and tranquilizing him yet at the same time arousing and triggering something inside. Even upon the first look at her, something had changed within the man, made him fully aware of her and his surroundings yet completely oblivious at the same time.
"Keith," he drawled, swaying on his feet, almost drunk with the whole experience. " 'M Keith Moon."
"What summons you to Sally's, Mr. Keith?"
"I dunno." The drummer didn't really have much of an answer as he beamed goofily at the girl. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sally Simpson. And you must have some rhyme or reason for simply walking into my services, eh?" She raised an eyebrow, looking the man before her up and down.
"Services? What do you mean by services?"
"Ah, of course. You aren't a regular customer here, are you?" She chuckled, getting up from her seat. "Where do I start..."
Keith's eyes widened as Sally crossed the space between them, surprised to find how tall she was when she stood up. Thousands of odd emotions scattered his mind when she bent down to look at him eye to eye. "Is there anything you've wanted for a long, long time," she started, eyes suddenly serious and momentous, "something that seems impossible but yet you ache and long for it with every inch of your skin and with every passing thought inside your head?"
Keith didn't have to think much about it. "A right mind-blowing orgasm from a pretty bird with orange hair."
Sally laughed gently. "Aye, but I only save that for the regulars, dear. I wouldn't dare give myself to a stranger like you, but mebbe after a few visits we could make an arrangement of some sort."
She smirked, straightening before turning to a wooden cedar cabinet to the right of the room. "You know what, Mr. Keith? I sense you are different from most. You're a rare kind, I'll say as much. Luckily I have just the solution for you..."
Keith watched in dismay as she unlocked the cabinet, and the doors swung open to reveal rows upon rows of bottles -- from little glass vials to gallon cartons. She scanned through the top row, reading the labels before finding the one she had wanted, a small flask containing deep purple liquid. "Aye," she said to herself and returned, but took a seat on the red couch to his left. Keith sat next to her with caution. "Take good care of this on'," she instructed, wrapping his fingers around the bottle.
Glancing at the flask simply labeled "#1921", he frowned and looked to Sally for further inquiry. "What's this?"
"Only one of the strongest concoctions known to mankind."
That caught Keith's attention. He looked at the bottle more carefully, scrutinizing it all over for some kind of a clue as to the potion's capabilities. "What does it..."
"What does it do? Well you see... One drop of the matter, deliberately concealed in a drink of sorts, and then fed to a single individual, can do wonders, miracles, abstracts, phenomenons." She paused deridingly for dramatic effect. "After consumed, the first person the victim comes into contact with will create an bewildering, fiery experience of longing within the subject, all emotions directed toward that one person that had touched them. Whether genuine infatuation or pure lust is to be decided, but as one who has herself experienced the sensation I might consider it a haunting thirst deep inside."
"Wait wait wait, back up..." Keith squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "This is a...a love potion?"
"Deemed to be one, aye."
"And when someone drinks it, and once they touch another person, they fall in love with that person?"
"Yes. One touch is all it takes to fall in love. Theoretically speaking. Of course, the trance one bears upon drinking wears off after awhile. In the meantime, your object of your whimsy will express to you their unfaltering loyalty and unconditional addiction, willing to do anything it would take to bring your happiness."
Possibilities swarmed like bees in Keith's imagination. A love potion that can make anyone do anything I'd like... The idea was terrifying, overpowering, yet alluring.
"Does this...love potion, work for anyone?" he queried.
"Any quine you'd fancy..." She hesitated, looking at him through the corner of her eyes. "Or lad, for that matter. Not that it matters who, as much as it does what.
"It all relies on the amount taken. A wee bit adds up to less -- but still evident -- passion, and subsides after not too long. And the more you take, the more intense the reaction. But there is such an intention as too much, bear this in mind."
Silence filled the hazy air as the drummer absorbed her words. He couldn't possibly believe what she was telling him, but for an odd reason he did. Perhaps it was his fancy to Sally and her mysterious house and potions, or perhaps it was his fascination with the flask she had placed in his hands. Either way, he had nothing to lose.
"Sound, eh, ain't it?" she asked him.
He shook his head. "I just don't understand... Why me?"
"Sorry?"
"Why did you choose this bottle for me?"
She contemplated. "I could tell from the very start, Mr. Keith, that you are a passionate young man whom has not yet found his passion. You're one of the exceptional ones. Not many people are capable of withholding the fervor like you've. You deserve as much as a little vial of lust."
He could felt her gaze on him as Keith toyed with the edge of the sofa's red fabric, but inside his mind was reeling. How she could infer -- and not just infer, but read from him, pick up spot-on -- so many details and characteristics about a man she had just met was past him. He figured by now there were too many strange wonders about the prodigy before him and all of her surroundings that it wasn't worth considering anymore, but it was hard to accept nonetheless.
"Although the whole idea sounds fine, I must warn you, Mr. Keith." She manages to draw his eyes back to hers. "This potion was not crafted for the bairns and the bams. I've witnessed with my very eyes the substance being maliciously misused, suddenly transformed from gentle force to a considered device of torture. You must use it wisely, use it upon a person whom you really care about and wish them to care about you as much equally. Do you understand?"
"Yes'm."
"Very well. So..." she rubbed her hands together. "Are you interested in buying?"
"Uh -- buying?"
Sally laughed again. "One cannot simply obtain one of the strongest concoctions known to mankind without some kind of price."
"Right, right." Keith rummaged around in his pockets for his wallet. "How much?"
"110 pounds."
"One hundred ten?" The man inhaled sharply at the cost. Oh, well, he figured. What else would I use the money for? He handed over the money and stood up, tucking the bottle safely away in his pocket. Glancing at his watch which read it was nearly past 7, he realized Kim, his wife, would like him to be home.
"Thank you very much, Ms. Sally Simpson," he said, shaking her hand.
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Keith." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before turning back to her throne-like chair. "Remember what I've said."
"Yeah."
"And if you ever need any other services, anything at all, you'll know where to find me." She winked, before facing away.
Keith said his goodbye and left the way he came, down the purple-walled hallways and out the double doors. Outside it was dusky and just as quiet as it had been before he had come in, and the fresh air both calmed him down from the bizarre happenings from just minutes ago as well as brought him back to his senses. What had really happened back there?
He fingered the vial in his pocket, recalling Sally's instruction and forewarnings. What if it actually worked, the potion... Who would he use it on? How much? When?
But before he could think about it, a black Cadillac passed by on the road. Suddenly it stopped, seeming to have seen Keith, and carefully backed up to him as the windows rolled down.
To his pleasant surprise, it was a young looking bird and a friend in the passenger seat.
"Hey, you're Keith Moon!" they shouted, giggling. "From The Who!"
Keith smirked and approached them. "That's me."
"Aw, what are you doing here all alone on a Saturday night? You should come with us!" the girl in the passenger seat suggested. She was very pretty, with straight blond hair and straight teeth and emerald green eyes. Keith had always fancied blondes, and he liked what he saw.
"Yeah, come with us!" the driver shouted. She was pretty too.
"Ah, hell," he said, smirking at them. "Can't say no to two loyal fans, can I?" The ladies cheered with satisfaction. Keith opened the back door, but before getting in he glanced back at the mysterious, tent-like shack beside the road. Feeling the potion's weight in his pocket again, he smirked even bigger.
I didn't ever really wanna go home anyway, he thought, climbing into the Cadillac.
~To Be Continued~
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