a/n: First off, to the couple lovely people who have commented on this story, THANK YOU! it means so much to me and gives me so much motivation to publish things in a timely manor.

Secondly, the attached video is actual footage from the show mentioned in this chapter, taken on an 8mm camera. Unfortunately there's no sound to the clip, but still, it's super cool to see!

Lastly, this chapter is HECKIN long so i guess that's good? But also apologies for my constant switching up of tenses, hope it's not too confusing! Enjoy lovelies!

Winter mornings in New York would never be her favorite, but she could not say that she had not missed them in the past couple years she had spent in London. There was just something particular about the way New York busied itself and the way people took in the rare spot of sunshine while simultaneously wrapping themselves tighter in their coats. Lena was no exception to this trend and wished she had not let the sight of the sun deceive her into choosing an outfit that was more aesthetic focused than functionality focused.

With a pleasant feeling of being back at home in her stomach Lena glanced up at the marquee sign that simply read "Queen" and then in smaller lettering "8pm Sold Out" before walking up to the glass doors of the Beacon Theatre in hopes that there was someone in the gorgeous lobby beyond. Perhaps this was not the best way to gain access to the locked theatre, but she was really hoping to not have to go on a hunt for the actual band entrance, besides, it was so much more fun to walk in the front doors like everyone else.

Despite living in New York for some time previously to joining Queen in London, Lena had never actually been inside the Beacon Theatre and had sort of hoped to be able to enter through the front doors and experience it like the rest of the public because she had heard that one must experience it in full in order to get the best effect. With no one in sight in the lobby she had given up knocking on the glass in hopes that some crew member would recognize her from afar due to her red leather jacket. After a solid half an hour of standing there, a time in which she could have most defiantly have found another entrance, a roadie finally passed close enough to the front doors to recognize her and let her in.

"Lena dude, how long have you been standing out here?" the fluffy haired roadie asked.

"Only a half an hour. Thanks."

"No problem," he said and continued his way.

Thankful to finally be out of the February cold, Lena paused once inside to unzip her jacket and run her fingers through her hair. Part of the image she was portraying today as the rock n' roll girlfriend depended heavily on the white, fading Led Zeppelin t-shirt she had tucked into her jeans and there was no reason to conceal it beneath her red jacket. In her momentary pause Lena took in the extravagance of the lobby, imagining how it would be tonight, packed with people eager to enter the auditorium and see the one and only, Queen.

The lobby itself rose to a high vaulted ceiling where an immaculate chandelier hung, throwing warm light all over the room. Walking into the auditorium Lena was immediately thankful that she had been able to come through the main entrance and see the theatre from this vantage point. The high ceilings mirrored that of the lobby, but it was far more beautiful than the lobby. The walls emitted an almost glowing gold, etched in with various spurts of red decorations. The seats were the same vibrant red as the curtains on the stage, perfectly emulating the roaring twenties feel within which it had been built. It was all but silent and completely still in the auditorium and she guessed that the band had concluded their soundcheck early, or more likely, not even started. The entirety of the band's equipment was on the stage, but there was not a soul in sight and Lena wondered where on earth they had gotten to and how long it would be before they remembered that they were supposed to be meeting her here at nine.

Lena walked around the theatre while she waited and gazed up at the paintings on the walls, studying them, wishing she could see them closer. She studied them with such concentration that she did not even notice Brian enter onto the stage until he began playing his guitar, the chords that so distinctly defined Bohemian Rhapsody echoing beautifully in the otherwise empty auditorium. She whipped around to face the stage at the sound and Brian only smiled in greeting and kept playing.

She walked up to the far side of the stage and rested her elbows on it and watched Brian play, his big hair drooping down around his face as he focused on his guitar. She considered for the hundredth time that week how incredibly blessed she was to be able to tour with this band and watch them as they made history.

"Hey! No ogling other rock stars Lena!" Roger's voice said from a stage wing before he emerged.

"See but you don't play guitar, and there's just something about guitarists..." Lena teased as Roger emerged from the wings.

"Does that include bassists?" John said joining in as he emerged from the same wing and spun around as if showing off his bass that was slung over him.

"You betcha Deaky," Lena said flashing him a smile.

Roger frowned in a way that Lena found hysterical and she snorted with laughter in response.

"And what about lead singers darling?" Freddie asked, prancing onto the stage.

"Defiantly goes for lead singers," Lena said, shooting Roger a smirk.

"Well then you'll just have to get a 'thing' for drummers too," Roger huffed as he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips before turning to fetch his coat.

Lena grabbed his collar before he could turn away fully and kissed him a little deeper, "I think," she said pausing the kiss, "that you could say I already have 'a thing' for a certain drummer."

"You too are getting ridiculous in your weird flirting you know," Deaky said pretending to look at his nails in boredom.

"Oh I know, it's all just to annoy the rest of you," Roger said, detaching himself from Lena. "But now, if we want Lena to give us a tour of the city we really gotta get going."

"Don't you need to like, soundcheck?" Lena asked.

"That's for later darling. Now come on, the gold aura of this place is giving me a headache," Freddie said gesturing.

"Who would have thought that gold and glam could ever give Fred a headache?" Brain said rolling his eyes.

"Come on guys, grab your coats we have so much to do and see," Lena said.

They followed her out of the otherwise empty auditorium, their laughter and jokes echoing off the walls. Once on the street they settled into being only mildly obnoxious because they knew that at this point in their careers, anyone, anywhere could, and would recognize them. Lena hoped that this day would consist of little interactions with fans but guessed that it could not be completely avoided.

Mostly Lena was just wanting to show them her city, another piece of who she was aside from just following them around the world for the past couple years. She had decided to show them only a couple of her favorite sites in Manhattan, for her favorite places were in New York were far more secluded and were away from direct integration with busy streets. But there were still many places to venture to that she knew the boys would enjoy by sheer fact that she was the one giving the tour.

After a few blocks Roger quit his fooling around with the others and joined her in the lead, taking her hand and walking beside her.

"Thank you for putting up with us my dear."

Lena started to respond but Freddie interrupted her, "If she didn't put up with us, she couldn't have you."

"Yes, thank you Fred," Lena said rolling her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that week alone, "But I do love you all dearly and I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Lena and Roger talked as they wound through the city streets toward Central Park and upon arrival through the park's long pathways. They walked a little ahead of the other three hand in hand as Lena explained her favorite things about the city and pointed out little pieces and spouted random facts. Even the February cold was not bothersome to her as they walked; she was back in her own environment but now with her favorite collection of people at her side.

They stopped occasionally for Lena to tell them a story or to buy steaming cups of hot chocolate from an only mildly sketchy looking stand, but they were soon done with their tour of the park.

"And now for the New York taxi experience all by your lonesomes. Not all that interesting but still kinda an adventure," Lena said, as she began her attempts to hail a taxi.

In the process of getting two taxis they were stopped by a couple fans who had recognized the band. But with a taxi waiting Lena was able to avoid being directly interrogated along with the rest of them.

"You know I was really thinking that we were blending in quite well," Roger said once they were in their own cab, the other three taking another.

"You four have a tendency to not blend in anywhere."

Roger folded and unfolded his sunglasses in his lap, "I wish we could sometimes. It would be so much easier to go do stuff."

"Yeah," Lena agreed and paused to reflect on how desperately she wished it could be that way, "but it would also be so much less of an adventure that way."

"True," Roger said still playing with his sunglasses.

"What's wrong Rog?"

"Nothing, I just want this to be a fun day for you without the interruption of fans."

"Rog it's fine really. I have been getting way better at dealing with it."

"I know," he said holding her hand, his thumb rubbing circles on it, "it's just that even still, after all this time you have evaded being truly and terribly ambushed by paparazzi and having to deal with all the fame and all the bad things that come with it. And that's good yes, but I just don't want you to be surprised by it when it happens."

"I won't be," Lena said, wishing that she could ignore the fact that she did not know what would happen in a situation in being ambushed by fans and how already in the situations she had experienced, it had been a struggle to quell her fear. She wished she had a better hold on herself and could control those moments of panic, of being surrounded, the noise and the people all throwing her into a full on anxiety attack.

In the momentary silence they had arrived at their destination, right outside the Flatiron Building.

"Come on," Lena said, shaking of her thoughts and pulling him out of the cab after beating him to paying the driver, "I want to show you my favorite looking building in the city."

Roger shoved his sunglasses back on and followed her out into the street.

"I told them to meet us right in front of it, so they should be here any minute," Lena said, looking around for the other three.

The three of them spilling obnoxiously out of a cab about a block away caught her attention, and she waved to direct them over. Once all together Lena began giving a full rundown explanation of the history of the Flatiron Building, that only Brian seemed to be listening to with genuine interest.

"But anyway," Lena said gesturing up to the tall, slender building, "it's one of my favorite buildings to see. Because it's so unusual and fun."

"We are also unusual and fun, so all you have to do is bring us everywhere," Freddie said.

"I already bring you everywhere. Now come on there should be a cute little shop around here where we can grab some lunch."

They turned to follow her as she led the way in the direction of the little café she vaguely remembered as being close by.

Only a few steps down the street, Roger swore under his breath and quickened his pace.

"There's a giant group of people looking suspiciously like paparazzi behind us. Don't look," Roger whispered.

They all looked anyway, and sure enough, there was a group of people trailing behind them all carrying cameras non-discreetly pointing at them, and by their sheer nature attracting attention and making the group following the band ever larger.

"Dammit. And we were having such a pleasant time by ourselves," Lena said.

"You know how you were saying you loved fun and unusual things?" Freddie said, "Well your day just got better."

Everyone frowned at him questioningly, with John raising an eyebrow.

"Everybody run!" Freddie half yelled, and he took off down the street.

Lena looked at Roger, and then at Brian and John.

"Well I guess we get to run from them then," Brian laughed, and spirited away.

The three left hesitated a second longer before John whispered, "Meet you two back at the theatre for soundcheck. Don't be late Rog," and then sprinted down the street after the other two.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Roger said, "That we are going to take this opportunity and go adventure the city on our own without those three hooligans."

"Okay?" Lena said shaking her head, "But first we have to get rid of that crew that is now speedily coming at us."

Roger looked back to see the group of paparazzi and now quite large collection of fans running toward them in response to the other three taking off down the street.

"Let's go!" Lena shouted as she pulled Roger down the street after her, taking the first turn she could off the main street.

Unfortunately, as she guessed they would, the crowd behind them followed down the street and it was only after a large collection of many turns that it appeared they had evaded them.

Roger pulled her into a small alley and just has often happens in cliché movies, the remainder of the group that had been following them passed by without noticing that Roger and Lena were there.

Lena was pressed up against Roger's chest and she could feel him breathing hard after their sprinting several blocks.

"I think," Lena said holding in a giggle, "that the coast is clear."

"We could leave now," Roger said without removing his hands from her waist.

Lena could feel his breathing slowing, but his heart remained at a fluttering pace. She could feel hers doing the same and internally rolled her eyes that the both of them still made the other nervous after all this time.

"We could," Lena said lifting her face up to his, lips just barely touching his without actually kissing him.

"Or not..." he whispered, still without kissing her, but with his lips speaking beneath hers.

"Hmm," Lena hummed into his lips, reaching up and holding his face with both hands.

Roger closed the microscopic distance that had remained between them, kissing her softly. Despite the fact that the alley they were currently inhabiting smelled atrocious and Lena could feel a part of her brain vaguely wondering about the safety of her red jacket against this wall, she found herself yet again in one of those moments in which she wished she could make time stand still and live the moment forever.

One of Roger's hands remained on her back, his fingers creeping under her t-shirt, pulling her closer. His other hand gripped her face, cradling it, urging her closer. The longer they stood there the more heated the kiss became, Lena's hands pulling at Roger's hair, pulling him closer as they fell into rhythm with each other.

After several, long eternities that Lena did not want to end, she detached her lips from his, but with noses still touching and smiled widely.

"You know I really think we should get a move on. I really don't want to see this makeout session plastered on the front of any magazines."

Roger licked his swollen lips and grinned at her, "It wouldn't be that bad would it?"

"Yes it would be. I would never hear the end of it from Freddie. Or Brian. Or Deaky for that matter. He would just nonchalantly happen to be reading that particular magazine every single time I saw him."

"Hmm, maybe you're right," he said, kissing her once more and almost indistinctly mumbling into her lips, "but wouldn't it be almost worth it?"

"It almost might be," Lena said while simultaneously pushing down a wave of anxiety at even the thought of seeing herself on a magazine cover. She detached herself from him a little more efficiently this time, leaning back against the wall behind her.

"Let's go grab lunch at my favorite little cafe in this part of the city. Then we can head back to the Beacon and make sure you're on time for soundcheck."

"There's plenty of time love. Maybe perhaps so much time that we could find an empty dressing room..."

"Really Rog," she exclaimed and smacked him on the shoulder, as she turned and dragged them out of the alleyway.

But after a delicious lunch, a delightful cup of coffee and walking back through the cold New York streets to the Beacon, Lena found herself stumbling after Roger into an empty dressing room, desperately clinging to his lanky frame. She closed the door behind them and fumbled for the lock as Roger pushed her up against the wall, his lips traveling down her neck and then back again.

"Rog," she said between kisses, "Should we really be doing this... now? Here?"

He pulled away and gave her his signature mischievous grin, "Of course darling, you really must learn to live a little."

"But," she spluttered, barely able to form a cohesive sentence as Roger's hands were all over her, pulling at her clothes as his lips reconnected with her skin, "What about the others? Shouldn't you be soundchecking approximately now?"

"Yes love, but they can wait. Besides," he said stopping once more and looking at her, "How will you ever properly be a part of the rock and roll scene if you don't do it in a dressing room, half drunk and prolonging said band member from being wherever they're supposed to be?"

"Maybe the issue is that I'm not half drunk yet," Lena grinned.

"Well that can certainly be resolved," Roger said and seemed to magically produce a bottle of something from the table beside them and managed to take of the top off without ever removing his body from hers.

"You had this planned from the beginning didn't you?" Lena said taking a swig of the bottle he handed her. She made a face at the taste but proceeded to take another drink before handing the bottle back to him.

He downed a couple mouthfuls before putting the bottle down and replacing his hand onto her back, "Lena love, you seem to still have such an innocent perception of me. I'm Roger Taylor. There's a reputation to that name."