Disclaimer - Nashville is not mine

Authors note - I want to thank MoonlightGardenias for giving me the prompts and for her last minute beta-ing. I hope you all enjoy this, the lyrics are my own, so there is no song that goes with them.

This is my entry for the august prompt challenge: Five times

Enjoy!

The Five Times They Got Caught

The first time they got caught, they were the ones who were embarrassed. It was their faces that turned a bright shade of flustered pink as the reality of the situation dawned on them.

They'd just done their first performance together at the Bluebird. After months of song writing, rehearsing, and him persuading her to give it a go they had finally got there. Beforehand, her hands had shaken uncontrollably and he'd decided to give her a shot of Jack Daniels to take the edge off of her nerves.

Back then they had been young, she'd been seventeen, and snuck out of the country club mansion to meet her writing partner for the evening. Dressed in a pretty white lace dress that had a conservative neckline and a hem that hit her knees, she had stood out to say the least. On her feet had been the boots that her mum had worn for years, and her hair had been curled in a way he'd never seen before. She may not have fitted in with the regulars at the Bluebird café, but that didn't mean he found her any less attractive. In fact, that night he realised just how stunning a writing partner he actually had.

Their first song had been a hit with everyone watching. "Scars On My Heart" had stopped every customer in the room and made them look at the stage. The unarguable chemistry between the down to earth cowboy playing soft chords on guitar and the country club daddy's girl whose voice harmonised perfectly. The rare moment of pure magic that took place on the stage captivated every single person in the room. The way she sang into his eyes and yet into everyone's hearts simultaneously. The way the lyrics fit together like someone was prying open the darker part of her heart and putting it all out on show. Dark and almost tragic lyrics put together to make something that was undoubtedly beautiful.

"I'm gonna close my eyes and make you a memory, a scar on my heart, a reminder of what could have been. . . "

Her nervousness had been left way behind her as soon as the first chord began. Her smile that was so contagious and beautiful at the same time, had mixed with the raw emotions of the song, contrasted against her country club attire, it had created something that was entirely beautiful, and in some ways tragic. Afterwards, he'd taken her hand and led her off the stage.

They'd gone out to the back corridor of the Bluebird, the place they had met in and where he worked. Standing outside the manager's office they caught their breath and just relished in the moment. In the years that would pass on from that moment, Deacon and Rayna never managed to remember just who had made the very first move that night, but neither would ever regret it.

The next thing they could remember was both of their lips being pressed together, his hands roaming the back of her dress as hers played teasingly with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Both lost in the feelings of desire and lust that they so frequently wrote about in their music.

They'd been caught by the manager, her presence breaking the moment and causing them to rapidly pull apart. The woman had stood there smirking at them, not even the slightest bit embarrassed. Rayna had hidden her head shamefully in the crook of Deacon's neck whilst he just glared unimpressed at his boss. A pink tone slowly rose across his lightly stubble covered cheeks.

"Well, it's about damn time!" the manager said before walking away and leaving the two songbirds to look embarrassed at one another and let it dawn on them what they had just done.

The second time they got caught, there wasn't enough time to even consider being embarrassed. Instead, it was more about trying to hide what had been about to happen instead.

It had been a couple of months since their first performance at the Bluebird and that oh so memorable kiss afterwards. And it had not been the last one either. Since then they'd manage to perform for an audience whenever Rayna could manage to sneak down the drainpipe in her rhinestone boots. The song writing, however, had been put on hold for a while, as it seemed they couldn't keep their hands off of one another whenever they began to write.

So, after a couple of months of nothing much productive happening they'd decided they needed to get back to writing. Tandy was working away; she was required to join a trip to Washington so she would be gone for the week. And, on this particular Wednesday, good 'ole Lamar had a meeting until the evening, so for the first time Rayna had invited Deacon over.

Outside, the weather was unusually warm for the time of year, so they'd decided to go and sit on the bank that was in her garden, not too far from the patio. He'd arrived via the back, and she'd already laid out a couple of bottles of coke, and he was bringing chips.

It was only around three in the afternoon when things took a turn for the worst. They had, for once, actually managed to keep their hands off of one another and get a couple of songs written. But by the time they got to the third both gave in – deciding they had been productive enough. So, with no hesitation Deacon captured the aspiring country singer's lips with his own in a sweet kiss, but sweet had not lasted long. Soon hands were roaming and passion was running through their blood. A combination of a job well done, warm weather and having to sneak around got the better of them.

Rayna was on her back, Deacon was leaning over and kissing her when they heard the patio door slam and the shouting begin. Instantly, both knew they were done for as they pulled apart in record speed. Rayna sat up and both straightened their clothes out whilst the shouting continued.

"Rayna Wyatt, what to hell do you think that you are doing?! In my back garden! And who the hell are you? Get your grubby hands off of my daughter; I'm not having some illegitimate child as a grandchild!" Lamar Wyatt shouted down the garden as he stormed towards where his daughter had been making out just moments earlier.

In that moment, Rayna felt like crying she was so humiliated. Her father was shouting and Deacon was being grabbed by his collar and dragged through the house, but a look passed between then in that moment, neither was even listening to her father. She was grateful to Deacon, because she saw in his eyes that her father would not stop him seeing her.

"Rayna Wyatt, you are grounded! I expected better from you, and whilst your sister is out earning a living. Get this stupid idea of being a singer out of your head, and knuckle down!" He'd shouted, but instead Rayna did what she never thought she would do, she stood up and walked to her room, then picked up her guitar and ignored her father for the next week.

But as chords began to flow the sound of his shouting was still audible. "You can't make a career out of music!"

The third time they got caught wasn't them officially getting caught, more just getting carried away.

They had been working with Watty White for a few months, and he'd known that they had promise. It had been completely different to anything else. Rayna had left the luxury of her father's confines, got a job working with Deacon at the Bluebird and was renting out a small apartment – all much to Lamar Wyatt's dismay. She'd also now taken to using her mother's maiden name, as oppose to the Wyatt name. Then Watty had come along and given them hope. Recording in a studio had sounded ominous, but they loved it.

On this particular day they were in the studio recording another demo, this time of the first song they had ever sung, "Scars On My Heart". They'd recorded their newer stuff but always left this one, then they'd sung it at a bar and Watty had wanted it. As it turned out he had leaked the chorus recording to the manager of Edgehill Republic and he had wanted it. But he wanted her, not him.

Rayna stood there looking into Deacon's eyes as she slowly sung the words she hoped would never apply to him. Hair tied messily out of her face, but eyes more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.

"Now you're just gonna be another faded picture in a box, a face with no name and no heartbeat that stops . . ."

When she finished Watty walked in and they removed their headphones and looked at him. "Rayna, Edgehill wants to sign you." It was all he had to say. She was about to protest about Deacon, but he placed a finger on her lips, silencing her effectively.

"I don't wanna be famous Ray; I just wanna play music with you." Then he'd picked her up and spun her around, the smile on his face reassuring her that he truly was happy for her, and when he put her down safely onto the floor, she forgot Watty was even there.

She was happy, and she was grateful for him loving her enough to support her even when it meant he didn't get his own dream. So she cupped his face, grazing her thumb over his stubble and kissed him, softly and sweetly, but not for a short amount of time. With their eyes closed they were the only ones in the world.

It was Watty's strategic coughing that stopped them, causing her to flush a deep pink and them both to fall into a fit of giggles that turned out to be completely uncontrollable.

"I think I'll leave you two alone," Watty said slightly gruffly before walking out of the room leaving a very flustered pair to celebrate alone, without the presence of an old man.

The fourth time they got caught turned out to be the first in a long run of similar situations.

They'd been on their first arena tour for four months now. Deacon had gradually come to terms with the fact that Rayna's dresses were not what he would consider appropriate, and he'd managed to also not get so jealous over all the male attention she got.

Being on an arena tour left little time for the two of them. In the last two months especially, situation after situation had pulled them apart, and in the last two weeks, he had not spent one night in her bed because either she had to be somewhere or he did. So, as she walked off of the stage after the final show in Chicago, he took his chance. In fact, he was so determined that he would do more than just see her, he completely ignored the sound of Bucky saying he needed to talk to them both.

Instead, the lead guitarist walked into Rayna's dressing room to find her sitting at the mirror writing. He softly closed the door and she turned to look at him, eyes glancing over his image, just as his did hers. She had on a green dress, with a low V dip neckline, empire line, floaty skirt and hem that hit mid-thigh. When she had been prancing around on the stage, it looked barely even modest.

The singer smirked at her lover, and at the desire in his eyes. "Can I help you, Deacon?" She asked in a sultry and seductive tone.

"Darlin', I think I'm past helpin'," he said before both walked to meet each other, both wearing smirks.

"Let's see about that, shall we?" She stated, before they met. The kiss was passionate; her hands were instantly around his neck, playing with his hair as she greedily wanted more. His hands had moved from her waist to touching every bit of accessible skin, which considering her dress was a lot. Everywhere he touched felt like he was setting fire to her skin.

They were so wrapped up they didn't hear Bucky outside until the door opened. "I need to talk to you-"he stopped as the two pulled apart. Rayna gave up being polite and glared at her manager. "It can wait," he stated simply before deciding to make a swift exit. He didn't, however, even get to finish his short statement before they were all over one another yet again.

It took him three years before he learned to always knock before entering her room. A heck of a long time considering the amount of times he caught them.

The fifth time they got caught was under much different circumstances. In fact, it was probably the only time that it was ever a good thing, because if they hadn't been caught, it would have been too easy to go back on her decision.

When you think something is probably too good to be true, then it generally is. For Rayna, the love Deacon gave her seemed that way, and then it all went to pot after Vince was killed. The drinking and drugs began, and she went from being the happiest woman in the world, to a woman who hid behind a façade come day and night.

But for years she stood by his side, through four trips to rehab she waited, helped, celebrated, then watched it all collapse around her feet. She watched as her heart shattered along with half of her possessions on the cold floor. When she took him for the fifth time though, she knew she could take it no more. That if she had to watch it all go down the drain again, she would break so badly that she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get back up.

It took two weeks and finding out she was pregnant for her to make her decision: he was addicted to her, not to the drink. People had told her that so many times over the years, but not once had she believed them. Then when Coleman told her, she realised it was true. If she ever wanted Deacon to get clean and sober, it was her he had to stop more than anything.

So two weeks after he'd been admitted into yet another course of rehab, she went to visit him. She'd spent hours choosing what to wear, and ended up with a pair of skinny leg jeans, a green plaid shirt and her signature boots. She'd curled her hair the way he loved it and done her makeup naturally. But when she got there, she knew it would make no difference. She was about to make his world fall down.

His room was small and white. The only sign of his personality was his Guitar with its strap which had 'Deacon' sewn on it. The strap she'd bought him all those years ago, a lifetime ago when they'd had their first paid gig. Everything was white, then there was him, up against the wall on his single bed, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt – the same as everyone.

She sat down at the end of the bed and he knew what was coming. It was the end. And slowly, she choked out the words that she had hoped she'd never have to say. "I can't do this anymore, Deac. I can't get my hopes up and then watch my heart shatter because you can't do it." She wiped the tears and looked out of the small window onto the garden outside, momentarily wondering if she should be here too, because of her addiction to him. "I love you too much to watch you fall, Deacon. Believe me when I say I'll always be here for you, but . . ." Slowly, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger as they both let it hit them that this was their last kiss.

"Miss Jaymes, you need to leave," the nurse said, catching the fleeing last moment. Rayna pulled back and nodded, before looking Deacon in the eye.

As she stood up to go, she thought about telling him about the baby, but couldn't. "I'm sorry, Deacon," she said.

"Don't be," he stated softly.

But it wasn't the leaving she was apologising for, it was not telling him that he would spend the next thirteen years watching their daughter grow, and not knowing she was his. Yet Rayna didn't have the heart or the energy to correct him, so instead she left, with tears slowly falling down her cheeks until she made it home and let herself sob until she fell asleep with exhaustion. Even though she had left him, she knew that she still had a part of him growing inside of her.

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