Chapter Ten

"What?" Khashoggi asked, not knowing how to respond to Page's question.

"What does Killer Queen hate more than anything?" After a long silence proving his ignorance, she gave him the answer. "Kick ass rock and roll music."

"So, how can we use that to tell her I love you?"

Although he'd already told her how he felt, the three small words made Page grin like mad. "Well, I have an idea."

"Okay..."

"First things first, you need a makeover."

Khashoggi didn't light up at the idea, but instead he smirked. He'd caught on to exactly what Page was considering. She tugged him by the sleeve of his jacket to the large mirror in her room and sat him down on the chair facing it – she had usually used this set up when Oz did her hair and makeup, but she hadn't touched it in weeks. Oz had stopped treating Page like her personal doll to dress up when Khashoggi had left and Page was no longer fun to be around.

"What are you going to do?" he inquired, sounding both excited and nervous. Silently, Page ran her fingers through his short, greased back hair, combing it the way he must have in order to keep it flat. Without warning, she took her palms and pushed all of the hair hiding in the back towards the front, causing his white blonde hair to poke out in all directions. The look on his face was almost painful, but he knew it had to be done – for Page. In her opinion, Khashoggi's hair looked great; it was in total disarray. If he'd put on his sunglasses now, he would have looked very punk rock.

"Next comes the makeup." Page smiled gingerly and opened the top drawer of her dresser to reveal to Khashoggi all of the powers, pastes and polishes she had available to use on him.

His eyes immediately widened and he sucked in his breath. "Nothing too drastic, Page..."

"Don't worry, I won't do anything like Burton's got." Burton Cummings was the most made up of all the Bohemians. His face was completely painted black and white and his nails donned dark polish. His makeup kind of reminded Page of a band called KISS. A sigh of relief verified that's exactly what he feared. It didn't take long for Page to have given Khashoggi the rock makeover: thick black eyeliner; subtle purple shadow and dark red lipstick for a final touch. His skin was already pale enough. She mentally pegged him as a dark David Bowie and chuckled to herself.

"What? Does it look that horrible?" He inspected himself in the mirror and frowned. "I knew it, I look ridiculous."

"Hey!" Page perked up defensively. "You look great! You just need some new clothes so your make up doesn't look so out of place..."

She left Khashoggi alone in the chair as she yanked the double doors to her closet open. "Here, take this." Page threw so many articles of clothing at him that his lap was buried in the pile.

Stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her, Page gave Khashoggi the privacy to change into his new outfit. She may have been more anxious about the whole situation than he was. This would either give Killer Queen enough proof that he didn't want her, or it would infuriate her to the point of locking them back up again and making him her prisoner. And God knew that Page couldn't go without Khashoggi's company for a day longer.

The wooden door slowly creaked open on its hinges, inviting Page into the room. "What do you think?" Khashoggi stood simple in the centre of the room. He wore fading blue jeans; dark blue Converse running shoes; a grey t-shirt with an Iron Maiden logo on the front and a brown leather jacket. "I feel stupid."

"Okay, so the makeup is a bit much." Page took a tissue to his eyelids and wiped away the shadow and lipstick, only leaving the eyeliner. "That's better. Hey, you could even put your sunglasses back on!"

Khashoggi did not move to pick them up off the dresser. "I don't want to."

Page cracked a smile and nodded. "I think you're ready."

Khashoggi and Page stood hand in hand in front of the door to the Globalsoft head office building – the place where they had been captive only eleven days prior. Page looked up at him as if to ask if he was ready. He nodded in response to her gaze and they simultaneously grabbed a door handle and pulled.

Upon coming to her office door, Khashoggi didn't hesitate before letting himself in.

"Madam." He acknowledged, approaching the large glass desk she sat at.

"Khashoggi... what are you..." she stammered, "What is she doing here?"

"You'll never get it any other way."

"What are you talking about?"

Khashoggi removed the guitar case from his back, unzipped it and withdrew Page's Stratocaster from inside. Meanwhile, Page set down the amp she was carrying, plugged it into the wall and then synced it to her guitar so no cords were necessary. Khashoggi stood with both legs spread apart, the guitar hung between them.

"I want to break free!" he sung quietly, but filled with fury. "I want to break free!" he repeated, louder this time. "I want to break free from your lies, you're so self-satisfied, I don't need you!" he stepped up to her desk and planted his palms on the glass, then with one swift movement, swiped the desk clean of everything on it; including the computer resting on top. Killer Queen's jaw dropped open. "God knows, God knows I want to break free!" he held the note a little longer, then pulled a guitar pick out of his pocket and prepared to play.

Khashoggi strummed the first chord with no reservations. The sound emitting from the guitar was loud and vibrated off the walls of the office. "I've fallen in love!" he cried. "I've fallen in love for the first time, and this time I know it's for real!" He walked carefully up to Page and continued singing, this time with less anger and more passion. "God knows, God knows I've fallen in love... It's strange, but it's true, I can't get over the way you love me like you do."

He ran back up to Killer Queen, who was now standing in front of her desk, awestruck by the spectacle in front of her. "But I have to be sure when I walk out that door, oh how I want to be free, baby. Oh, how I want to be free... Oh yeah, I want to break free!"

Khashoggi began working at the strings, picking away a solo that he never imagined he would have the talent to perform. The solo stopped abruptly with a single note and he continued singing to a heavy chord progression. "But life still goes on." He whipped his neck back to glance at Page again. "I can't get used to living without," he took a step towards her, "Living without," another step, "Living without you," at his final step, he stopped strumming and touched her face, "by my side. I don't want to live alone..."

Killer Queen grabbed his arm and swung him back around to face her, but it did not interrupt his song. "God knows, I've got to make it on my own! So baby, can't you see? God knows I've got to, God knows I need to, God knows I want to break free!" He held his last note, both on the guitar and his vocals, for as long as he could and then strummed the guitar one last time.

Page could not believe how proud she was of Khashoggi for standing up for himself; she sprinted across the large office and jumped into his arms, which were already held out to accept her. He lifted her off the ground with his embrace and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose.

"Khashoggi... I..." Was Killer Queen at a loss for words? "... I didn't know you felt so... so strongly." Both he and Page were wide-eyed with hope. "You can go." She hung her head in shame and embarrassment as they jumped and cheered.

"Congratulations, you two." Figgy said to them back at the Heartbreak Motel, beaming at Page.

Scaramouche jumped up and down excitedly and then ran towards Page and Khashoggi, wrapping an arm around each of them. "I can't believe it, guys!"

"Hey, now Scaramouche and I can double date." Figgy joked, winking at Scaramouche. She laughed and hugged his side.

"Page," Oz said, calmly nearing the couple whose hands were interlocked. "I'm really happy for you." She poked Page in the stomach. "Come here, you." She put her arm over Page's shoulder and smiled. "Good for you; stickin' it to the man."

"Woman," Khashoggi corrected.

"Eh," Oz shrugged. "Does it make a difference?" She grinned and left with Scaramouche and Figgy.

Khashoggi glanced down at Page and beamed at her. "I never dreamed I'd fall in love with a Bohemian, before."

She grinned up at him and stood on her tiptoes, gaining the few inches she needed to kiss him. Backing away, a smile still plastered on her face, she replied, "Neither did I."