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I was inspired by this fairly awful Black Sabbath video from the Tony Iommi+three random people era, which features Tasha Yar from Star Trek TNG (well, her actress anyway)



Title: No Stranger To Love
Tony Iommi/OC



I could see him before I even reached the ground floor, through the window of one of those dank, cold stairwells. He was standing near the motorway bridge, next to a long black car, looking his leather-clad porn starry best. My step quickened. I wasn't really looking forward to seeing him but I just wanted to be out of there.

And then I was, out in a wet, fading evening with little gusts of wind blowing my hair. Inner city Birmingham air isn't the freshest ever but I sucked it in greedily, feeling dizzy and disorientated . He was coming towards me.

“Tasha, why the hell...”

“I saw it from the bus” I let him take me in his arms. A part of me wanted to sob on his shoulder but I just couldn't so I buried my face in his neck and ran my fingers through his thick dark hair “If I hadn't I wouldn't have come here.”

But when I had I couldn't stay away. That f*cking awful high-rise where I grew up, now condemned and looking every bit as sinister as it deserved to. The lift was broken as it always had been in my memory so I had walked up to the 9th floor where our flat was. The site of our wallpaper peeling off the wall was the last straw. So many nasty little memories stripped bare.

He patted my back awkwardly “I understand”

“No Tony, you don't!” I shoved him away from me suddenly. How could he understand. Being in the room where that had happened to me.

“If that's how you want it...” he left it hanging, gave me one of those intense looks and stalked off back to his car. I felt like the loneliest person on earth. Why had I done that?

I followed slowly in the direction of the car. There was a dog running around. Maybe it belonged to some homeless person under the bridge. It looked healthy enough so I didn't bother with it. I ran up the steps onto the bridge to try and catch site of the car and there it was, heading slowly back towards the city centre.

Then it stopped suddenly and he got out, striding back the way he had come with his hands in his pockets. Looking up at the bridge. I ducked down to avoid looking at him.

“Tasha? Come down”

I headed slowly back down the steps. He was already returning to the vehicle and I followed him.

“Come on then. Get in the car”

“I'm sorry” I said. “I didn't mean to push you away. I just remembered so many things. I though if I could go back it would all be alright and-”

“Natasha, just get in the f*cking car!”

I managed to roll my eyes “Alright Anthony, if you insist”

I snuggled up to him, comforted instantly by the scent of leather and aftershave and smoke and sweat. He stroked my hair softly, then started on my face, the damaged fingertips brushing so gently against my skin. I sighed and snuggled closer. For the first time since glancing out of the tourbus window that morning and spotting my old home, I felt safe.

“I'm sorry” I murmured weakly into his shoulder

“You need a drink and a good shag, luv” he said, kissing the top of my head. Then he looked over at the driver “Back to the hotel please”

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Darcy

May 2012

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