Date: Thu, 28 Oct 1999 20:17:33 GMT
From: Scotty T <thepoetboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Lance-In-Shining-Armour-22-23.txt

Standard stuff -- I don't know NSYNC, and this is only loosely based on
NSYNC.   They could all be (ack!?) straight for all I know. :)

The lawsuit is over!  NSYNC has settled!

Happy Anniversary to all my loyal readers!  You guys (and gals!) are
great -- I can't think of a better motivational force.  It's been a month of
David and James -- and somehow I haven't bored the lot of ya. :)

My goal is another 3 weeks to a month before the story runs it's course
(whether I want it to or not -- I'm exploring options of how to avert the
ending I've been alluding to/foreshadowing all the way through the
story, cause I've gotten a bit overly attached to this thing. :)

Anyway -- onto the Anniversary installment!

thepoetboy@hotmail.com

Part 22

JC munched on his cereal and then pointed at my chest.  "Isn't that
Lance's?"

"The crucifix?"  I lifted it to get a better look.  "Yeah, he gave it to me."

"It's a cross, dumbass."  JC smiled.  "A crucifix would have Jesus on it."

I was a little surprised by how little I knew about religion.  One of the
courses I was about to drop was Intro to Religion -- we hadn't even
gotten past Judaism.

So I shrugged.  "Ah well, I'm an Atheist -- I haven't kept a religious
glossary."

He laughed.  "Do you play piano?"

"A little.  Not much.  But now that I've got a piano, I'll look around for a
teacher.  I'd love to be able to play more than basic melodies."

"You've got good fingers for it."

I didn't know if I was supposed to thank him for liking my fingers.
"Still hate me, Josh?" I asked quietly.

His smile faded.  "No.  But I never really hated you."

"Good."

"How could I hate someone who could make my Lance so happy?"

"He's about to get a whole lot sadder."  I patted him on the shoulder as I
left the room.  I went upstairs to find my bags and searched around until
I found the tin flute.  It didn't take long to find Josh's bags and hide it
with a scribbled note of thanks.

Then I slipped over to the bathroom and knocked on the door.  The
shower was going.

"Who is it?" James called.

"It's David."

"Oh, come on in."

I stepped in the room and quietly cursed.  I decided to invest in a
transparent shower curtain.

"Bad news, James."

There was a moment of silence.  "What?"

"Today's the day the house cleaners come in.  And the lawn guy."

"Can't you cancel them?"

"If I knew the number, I would."

I could swear that he swore.

"No alone time then?"

"There sure as hell will be, we've just gotta be careful."

He sighed deeply.  "So much for a romantic last morning together."  The
water turned off.  "Hand me a towel?"

I pushed a towel over the curtain bar and turned my back to give him a
bit of extra privacy.  I locked the door and claimed the next shower as
my own.  I stripped down to my boxers and started cling wrapping my
stomach.

James came up behind me and wrapped his damp arms around me.  I
closed my eyes and leaned my head back onto his shoulder.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"I don't want to know."  I pulled myself away and turned the water on.
He came up behind me to take off the cross.  I closed my eyes and lost
myself in the feeling of his fingers on the back of my neck.  He had
rougher skin on his fingers than I had expected.  It was strange compared
to the softness of the rest of him.

He hopped up onto the counter as I disappeared behind the dark blue
curtain.  I heard him pick my watch up off the counter.

"When do the cleaning people show up?"

"Not sure.  I think Michael mentioned nine."

"We've got a bit of time.  Not enough, but a bit."

"There's never enough time, James."  I tried to lighten the mood.  "But I
work well under pressure."

"Promises promises," he laughed.  "So what've you got planned for your
week here?"

"Mostly doing school stuff.  Visiting Joy.  Derrick's funeral."

"You want to go to the funeral?"  James sounded shocked.  "The bastard
shot you!"

I'd found it strange too, but my mind kept turning back to Derrick and I
knew I had to go.  It was especially strange since I didn't like funerals in
general.

Maybe it was because I wasn't close to Derrick that the idea of the
religious content didn't bother me.  Hearing a minister talking about my
loved ones living on in an afterlife I didn't believe in bothered me.  It
was too close.

But Derrick wasn't close.  They could send him where-ever his religion
dictated and it wouldn't bother me.  (Though for some reason I knew
that whatever religion he followed wouldn't lead him to pearly gates.)

"I just need some closure.  And I'd like to know that the guy wasn't all
bad.  He's got to have some redeeming qualities."

James was deep in planning.  "I'll stay and go with you then.  They can
do a few concerts without me."

"You're not staying, James.  You'll get on that plane today and I'll see
you in six days -- in Calgary.  I won't go to hte funeral alone," I lied,
"I'll drag some friends.  I'll be fine."

"When is it?"

"I don't know.  Doug or David should know."

"I don't like this, David."

"I know.  But I think I have to do it."

He sighed.  "You'll call me as soon as it's over?"

"The exact minute."

It was strange, but I felt like I got his permission, even though I never
asked for it.  I turned the water off and called for a towel.  James passed
one over the bar.

"We got the limo for the whole day, David.  It's at your disposal until
nine tonight."

"That'll save me from begging for transit tokens on street corners."

I dried myself off and then wrapped it around my waist.  I stepped out of
the shower and he was immediately wrapping his arms around me.  I
giggled a bit at the thought of the two of us in our matching towel-outfits.

There was a knock at the door, so James and I reluctantly pulled
ourselves apart.

"Coming," I called as I collected my clothes.  James peeled my cling
wrap off and then grabbed his stuff and opened the door.  He let out a
small yelp and slammed the door again.

"Sorry," he called.  "Still have to do my hair."  He spun to me with a
panicked look on his face.  "Your cleaning people are here early," he
whispered frantically.

I suppressed a laugh as long as I could.  James was smiling broadly, but
still had control over his laugh.

"So we're trapped in the bathroom?"

"Unless you want to explain why a hero and an NSYNCer were
showering together."

I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep the laughter from carrying too
far through the thin walls.

"Maybe he or she moved on."

"I'm not going to slam the door in her face again, just to see if she's
there!"  James hopped up onto the counter.

I thought for a moment and then dropped to my hands and knees.  I
looked under the bottom of the door and searched for feet.  I saw a pair
of white sneakers move into Joey and Chris' room.

"She's in the back bedroom.  She knows you're in here, so you'll go out
and distract her and I'll run for our room, deal?"

"Distract her how?"

I descended into silent giggles -- an unescapable trap.  "I don't care, sing
to her, drop your towel, anything."

I was pulling on my outfit under the towel.  If I was caught running
across the hallway, I'd have a better chance at explaining it if I were
dressed.  James came up behind me to refasten the necklace into place.

"I'm not dropping my towel for anyone!"

"Not even me, Jimmy?"

"Not if there's a third person involved."

"Ah, then maybe being trapped in a bathroom with you won't be so bad
after all.  Joey told me you had . . ." I giggled myself into silence.  I just
couldn't force the words out.  But at least I was fully dressed again.

"Let's get this over with," James muttered.  He opened the door and
slipped out.  I listened at the crack and finally peered out.  James was
standing in the door to the back bedroom and I made a quiet dash across
the hall into Joy's room.

I slowly caught my breath and stopped the giggle spasms.  Sneaking
around in my own home -- I knew I was going to like it there.

A moment later James walked in, slammed the door and locked it.  His
face was tomato red.

"I never want to meet someone when I'm only wearing a towel ever
again."

"She's probably fantasizing about you as we speak," I whispered,
pinning him up against the door and kissing his neck.

"Ew.  She's like sixty."  He wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Mmm.  Wrinkly breasts," I growled as seductively as I could.
He laughed pulled my head up for a real kiss.

I moved my hands to his waist and released the towel, feeling it fall on
my feet.  He opened his eyes and was about to object.

"Don't worry, James, I won't look."  I smiled and kissed him again.  His
objections disappeared behind his grin.

***

We managed to get fully dressed and downstairs by nine.  The guys were
gathered around the piano (surprise) and Josh was trying to fill them in
on the schedule for the next few days.  They all breathed a sigh of relief
when they saw James, and James took over the meeting.  He had a much
better grasp of the itinerary.

After a few minutes I excused myself and went to the kitchen phone to
go through another batch of messages.  Michael was washing down the
table.

"I was going to do some grocery shopping this afternoon.  We stocked
up as well as we could when we found out you were coming, but I've
thought of some stuff we missed.  Anything special you want, David?"

"I'm vegetarian, Michael, so no meat.  Not much in the way of eggs
either, just two or three just in case.  You're free to take whatever meat
stuff is around here for yourself, cause once the guys leave this
afternoon, I'll have no use for it."

"Want milk?"

"Yeah."

I picked up the phone and dialled my parents' number before I called my
voice mail.  I had my fingers crossed, and James' God must've been
smiling on me because I got the answering machine.

"Hi, Mom and Dad.  It's David.  Everything's fine, I'm barely even sore
anymore.  I got a place off campus and I'm dropping out of university for
the year.  Oh, and I'm rich.  So call me back."  I hung up, conveniently
forgetting to leave either of my two new numbers -- the house or the cell
phone.

I wasn't quite ready for family meddling.  Mom's fingers would be in
the finances, talking investments, and Dad's curiosity would have him
all over the house within a day.  But the money and the house were mine
-- separate from the family.  I wanted to stand on my own feet without
them there to push me around.

I called up my voice mail and checked my daily twenty messages.

***

By nine-thirty the meeting had wrapped up.  I was informed that by the
time I reached Calgary, they'd arrange some free time so that they could
show me around.

I was munching on my leftover pizza as I listened.  "You guys'll email
me all of this info later, right?"

James laughed and nodded, and gave up trying to tell me anything.

I watched as a little chubby man glided by the back window on a riding
lawn mower.  He was wearing a Gilligan hat.  He waved at us when he
passed.

And again when he passed in the other direction.

And again.

I gave up waving back on the fifth pass.

The guys wandered off to make sure they had everything packed, leaving
James and I at the piano.  I'd made sure he was packed after he insisted
on putting the towel back on.

"Maybe you should get the cleaning people to have someone come in for
a few hours a day -- just so you aren't alone."

James was concerned for me.  I was concerned for him.  It was a nasty
little circle.

"I'll cope, I've got my friends, I've got my fish.  Hell, I've got countless
fish in the back yard to name."

He smiled.

Michael came into the room with a bucket of cleaning supplies.

"Michael," I said, "you've got to fill me in on how to care for a pond of
fish."

He started polishing the piano.  "Ignore them and they'll be fine.  It's
automated.  The lawn guy, Leo, refills the food when he comes in and
there's a machine that releases it every so often.  So just ignore it."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Joy was an absentee fish owner, it was for the best."

I nodded, seeing the logic. . .  Almost.  There had been people at the
house every day.

"I think James and I are going to go downstairs and explore a bit.  Point
the guys in our direction if they're looking for us."

Michael nodded and James and I slipped into our private basement
haven.  I pushed him down on the pile of pillows and fell into a spot
beside him.

"Time check?"

"Nearly ten, Jimmy."

"Kiss check?"

I kissed him.  "Soft and delightful, Jimmy."

"I demand a second opinion."

I rolled away.  "I'll go get Chris."

He grabbed my shirt and pulled me back.  "Don't you dare."  He kissed
me again, slipping his tongue past my lips.

When the kiss ended I lay back down beside him and pulled his arms
around me, resting my forehead on his.  "Have a good vacation?"

"One for the record books, you?"

"Besides being shot, hospitalized, disfigured and used to promote some
American boy band?  Can't complain.  Oh, and forced to eat really bad
oatmeal."  I smiled.  "One thing you never explained -- why did all of the
guys come?  Why not just you and Justin?"

"We're like brothers.  When one or two of us need support, the others
are there.  And from what I've heard from Joey, they all knew I was a
little hung up on you before I even left for Toronto.  I was a wreck.
Justin had to do my packing for me because I was just so . . . messed up.
I thought I'd lost you before I even met you."

"You never told me that."

"Well, if I had, I wouldn't be telling you now, would I?"

I grinned and bumped our foreheads together.

"I'd fallen for the email you, too.  And I had an unhealthily strong crush
on a certain blond NSYNCer.  If I hadn't fallen asleep right after I saw
you in that hospital room, I'd have had a heart attack."

"How can you not believe in God when we got thrown together?  You
could have died.  You could have never been shot and we'd never have
met, Davey."

"If there is a God, I think he'd have other things to do than finding me a
boyfriend.  Especially when I'd have settled for a lot less than I got."

He grinned shyly.

Feet kept moving around upstairs, but none came close to the door to the
basement.  James had deep dark marks under his eyes and he was
fighting to stay awake.  My hand felt like it could outweigh a Buick, but
I convinced it to stroke James' cheek.  I wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You're beautiful, Mr. Bass."  The familiar blush spread across his face.
"I'm really going to miss you."

"Well, if you're not going to thank God for bringing us together, I'll
thank him twice as much.  Three times as much, just to keep all of our
bases covered."

I smiled.  Through the ceiling I could here the distant sound of a flute.
James groaned and rolled his eyes.

"We're going to be hearing that thing for weeks."

"I'm hoping he'll be bored of it by the time I meet you in Calgary."

"I'll make sure he isn't, just to get revenge."  He tried to smile, but it just
wasn't working.  I kissed his nose.  Still no smile.

"Life is made up of partings.  That is the way of things."  I knew that
was a misquote, but for the life of me I couldn't even remember where it
was from.  I had the happy suspicion it was from a Muppet movie.
"You'll see me again, I won't let you get away."  I was babbling just to
hear myself talk.  We both knew it.

My babbling came to an abrupt stop when I heard footsteps approaching
the basement door.  I found myself holding my breath.

I heard Chris say something.  The footsteps stopped.  Then Chris said
something else and they started moving away.

A moment passed and then I let out the breath I'd been holding.  A
second later there was a knock at the door and Chris called out his
identity.

"Come on down, Chris," I yelled.

The door opened and Chris hoped down the stairs, two at a time.

"Cleaning crew is avoiding the basement for today.  Close call though."

"Thanks," James said.

Chris found a seat on the edge of the pool of pillows.  "You're coming to
the airport, right, Dave?"

"You bet.  But I probably won't go into the airport.  Last thing you guys
need is for me to cause a scene."

"Scoop'll cause one whether you're there or not," he smiled
sympathetically.  "You may as well be there."

James grabbed my chin and turned me back to him.  "And I'm not going
to leave your side a minute before I have to."

"Haven't we already covered that?  Okay, I'll go into the airport."

I rubbed my nose against his, and Chris interrupted.  "Third person in the
room."

"If you want some loving, ya gotta sit closer, Chris."

He laughed, but didn't say anything, so I continued my Eskimo kiss-fest
with James.  He was finally smiling again, but his eyes were thick with
tears.  I felt the burning return to my own brown eyes.

"Uh, Chris?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"While it was nice of you to come down and visit . . ."

"I'll go watch Joey finish packing?"

"Please."

As soon as the door closed behind Chris, I pulled James into the tightest
hug I could muster. (Muster is a good and under used word.)

"I don't think I can survive six days, David."

"We can and we will," I whispered.  My voice just wasn't there for
anything louder.

He ran his fingers up and down my spine.  Hugging someone while lying
on your sides wasn't a comfortable thing -- my right arm was trapped
under his body and I was hoping it would bruise.

And hoping that bruise would last six days, as a reminder.

"I love you, David," he said with a cracking voice.

I couldn't find any of my voice to tell him I loved him.  I loved him more
than I loved myself -- more than my fish -- more than cheesecake and
more than blueberry pancakes.  I would lay down my life for that boy --
and I lived for the moments he would scrunch up his face causing
dimples on his chin.  Those naturally arched eyebrows, those green eyes
that always looked like he was two minutes away from tears, his little
ears, his delicate nose.

I hugged him tighter in reply.

He rolled on top of me and looked straight down into my eyes.  He had
tear streaks on his cheeks, and now they pooled on his cheekbones and
threatened to fall like snow.

He slowly leaned down and skimmed my lips with his, never breaking
our eye contact.  Then he pulled back up and watched me again before
descending for a stronger kiss.  And then an even stronger one.

He smoothly pulled his head back again and I pushed my head up for
another kiss, moving one hand from his back to the back of his head and
pulling him down.

All too soon there was a knock on the door -- a knock designed to be
apologetic and unintrusive.

"No, not yet," James whispered, suddenly tense.

The door creaked open and two sets of feet came down the stairs.

"Lance?  David?"  It was Josh's voice.  "It's almost noon."

James' face became tense and shook slightly.  He was trying to hold
back a sobbing cry that he knew he'd never escape once it gained
control.

Our eyes met and we both lost control, holding onto each other like it
was the last minute before the end of the world.

Part of me was ashamed that I'd be like this in front of Josh and . . .
Justin's cologne was in the air.

The rest of me didn't give a fuck.

But then James pulled himself back, with deep ragged breaths and
moved to sit cross legged beside me.  Without his weight on me, I felt
like a ghost -- alone in a strange house.

I wiped my face as well as I could with my shirt and tried to catch my
breath.  I didn't look at James.  There was no time for a repeat.  It would
only make things harder.

Justin was kneeling beside James, rubbing his hand up and down James'
back.  Josh was standing in front of me, holding out a hand to help me
get to my feet.  I accepted it and he pulled me to my feet and into a hug.

I held my breath to avoid losing control again, and this time it worked.

"Let's go," Josh said.  "We've already packed the car."

I let him lead me up the stairs and away from my haven, listening to
James' feet landing heavily on the stairs behind me.

***

Part 23

The guys ran interference in the house, making sure none of the cleaners
saw James and I as we were swept to the car.

James and I sat side by side, so that we could still be close and hold each
others' hand like an anchor to happiness, but so that we didn't have to
look at each other.  I still couldn't trust myself to stay composed.

The ride was made in silence.  Chris made a few attempts at levity, but
they fell on deaf ears.  I kept praying for the driver to get lost, just for a
few extra minutes of that hand being in mine, of that knee pressing
against my own.

My prayers weren't answered.

We were lead to a special waiting room while the bags were processed.
It was a small room and there was a tray of finger foods on the coffee
table.  We were the only ones there.

"What've you got planned for this week, David?"  Justin asked, sitting
down beside me.

"Getting all of the university stuff in order.  Hopefully I'll get some
shopping done to get the house to be a bit more me.  I've got to fess up
about all of the shooting stuff with my folks, and Derrick's funeral
should be in the next few days."

"And who ya gonna email?"

"Scott from Tennessee?" I said, remembering his cover name.

He laughed.  "You damn well better."

Josh interjected, "And Alex from Houston."

Joey looked up from the tray of food.  "Jeff from the Bronx."

I looked at Chris, expecting him to add one too.  He looked a little
chagrined.  "Cheryl from Miami."

I laughed, surprising myself.  I'd never heard from Alex, Jeff or Cheryl,
just Scott and Jason.

Justin giggled.  "I'll email you the addresses."

James hand tightening on my knee.  "I expect 2 emails and one phone
call per day.  At least."

I put my hand on top of his and squeezed.  "Deal."

"If I email all of ya, I'm not going to have a chance to get everything
done here and get to Calgary in 6 days!"

Joey grinned.  "Your problem, not ours."

"Yeah, Davey," Chris laughed, "and if you miss that 6 day deadline, I
know an albino-boy who'll have you killed."

We were slipping into humour, and I felt more secure.  My sense of
humour was taking over and pushing my sadness to the back.

"You'd better take care of James -- he won't be easy to replace.  Albinos
are rare."

James' fingers dug into my knee until I yelped.  He was smiling as
sweetly as he could, and I wasn't buying it.  I aimed for his tickle spot.
(It used to be halfway up his ribs, now it's moved down to his hips.)  He
saw me coming and grabbed my hand, so I went in with the other one, he
caught that too.

But that meant both of his hands were busy with me -- it left no hands to
block Chris' attack.  The mixture of lack of sleep and 5 pairs of hands
attacking him from every direction had James laughing hysterically in
short time.

Eventually he was backed into a corner using a seat cushion from the
couch as a shield.  Chris and Joey were still pursuing, but Justin flopped
into a chair and Josh and I sat on the floor by the coffee table and picked
through the remainders of the tray.

"With Scoop, it's best to keep him distracted."  Josh stole the last carrot
stick.

"He should sleep most of the way.  He was up pretty early."

Josh looked at me with wide eyes.  "You . . . planned to get up early just
to wear him out?"

I smiled but didn't reply.  Mostly because I was caught in a yawn.

"You devil."  He threw a pickle at me and it bounced off my nose.

"That was uncalled for.  You're just mad you didn't think of it."  I
smirked and bounced the pickle off his forehead.  (Which amazed me --
normally I would miss entirely, even if he was like two feet away.)
"And it helps me out too.  By the time I get back to the house after
seeing David and visiting Joy, I'll fall asleep without a second thought."

I paused.

"Hopefully."

Josh smiled sympathetically.  "That invitation to tour stands.  When
you've got your roots here, you're always welcome to travel with us.
You'd love Europe.  Justin tells me you've got a thing for England."

"I've got a thing for most of Europe."

"Should we count you in for a spot on the European tour?"

"Can't say yet.  As much as I love him, we've been together like a week.
Can I decide after I see where this is leading?"

"Sure."

James was curled up in the corner, mostly covering himself with the seat
cushion.  A few giggles still emerged as Chris and Joey tried to find a
way around the defences that didn't involve ripping the cushion away
entirely.

"I'm gonna miss him, Josh."

"I know.  And we're . . . I'm going to miss you."

He gave my hand a supportive squeeze.  Joey and Chris finally gave up
on James and James' green eyes peaked over the top of the cushion.  I
winked at him and he winked back as he climbed to his feet and tried to
regain some dignity.  His clothing was wrinkled and the black marks
under his eyes ended up making him look like an adorable drug addict.

James sat behind me on the couch and crossed his legs on my lap.

"How much longer do we have?" he asked, resting his chin on my head.

"An hour."

"Wanna cry again?"

"Not at the top of my To Do list."

"Make out?"

"Somehow I think that'll lead to crying."

Josh laughed.  "Lance has that effect on people."

I squeezed Josh's hand until he squirmed and tried to pull it away.  The
look of pain on his face was enough of a reward.  I smiled sweetly.

"Jeez, David.  You've got strong hands."

"Just the left one."

Josh's eyes widened and he pulled his hand away and wiped it on his
pants.  "Ew.  David cooties."

I gave him a couch cushion to the face.

***

James and I were sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.  Justin
was napping on the couch and the others were sitting around trying not
to go insane from boredom.  My internal clock said they still have about
twenty minutes before they'd have to get on the plane -- but then again,
having never been on a plane, it was all based on assumptions.

"Well, at least I don't have to take you home to meet Mom and Dad --
Mom already adopted you as a son in the hospital."

He smiled and rested his head on my shoulder.

"I think it'll be different when she realizes we're together."

"She already knows.  A guy with perfect eyebrows shows up in my
hospital and refuses to leave even long enough to get food in the
cafeteria?  She may be a housewife, but that doesn't mean she's not a
bright woman."  I shrugged.  "Plus, since I came out, she assumes every
guy I bring home is my boy."

"Won't be quite as easy with my parents."

"Are you out to them?"

"Not yet.  But with you around, the time has come.  I'll be out by the
time you get to Calgary."

"Don't rush it.  It's not really a phone conversation thing."

"When you travel as much as I do, everything becomes a phone
conversation thing."

"Break up with me over the phone and you're dead."

"Death'll be the only thing that could ever separate me from you,
David."

We were both using our brave voices -- our strong voices that let us say
what we meant but allowed for a complete emotional disconnection
from those words.  Later we'd think it over, and reconnect the meanings
with the words, and later the tears would come.

And later I would sleep in a bed by myself, rolling over and finding
nothing.  Later I would stand in the bathroom in the middle of the night,
changing my bandage in a big, dark, quiet cottage, without someone to
cut the tape to size.  Later I would make my oatmeal, but make enough
for two instead of for one.

I turned my head and rested my face in his spikes, smelling his hair.

"Think we're going to last, David?"

"I don't know.  Distance changes everything.  I know I want us to last.  I
want to be an old man walking around and leaning on my IV stand, and
knowing you were sleeping at the end of the hall.  I want to retire and
live on a ranch, watching you with your horses while I play with my
dogs."

"Musicians never really retire."

"Neither do writers."

"You can work out of the ranch -- faxing your stuff to the publishers.
You'll love Mississippi."

"You wanna make a Yankee out of me?"

He smiled.  "A boy can dream, can't he?"

I giggled quietly.  "Sure as hell hope so -- it's all that'll get me through
the next six days."

"You fell hard, Davey."

"Just following your lead, babe."

We fell into silence and stayed there until Josh made the announcement
that the time had come.  I put on my own Lance face and stood up, trying
to be as strong as I could.

Now that the memories of the shooting had returned, that flash of images
when I saw Derrick's face on the TV screen, I knew there was courage
inside of me.  I could be strong.

But I was afraid that this test would cripple me.

I held out my hand to help James to his feet.  I pulled him up and our
eyes met.  I felt cracks in my armour so I looked away to stare at the
wall, and pulled him into my arms.

This time, focusing on James' breath, James' heat, his scent -- it couldn't
help.  I had to focus on anything that wasn't him, and Derrick's face
came to mind.  I remembered the snarl on his lips, his hand on the gun.
My horror as he fired it and as I felt the pain hit me.

I remembered it because it hurt less than James' hug.  And because it
would always be a part of me, whereas the hug was ending, and James
was going to be walking away.

I pulled myself out of the hug, knowing neither of us would ever let go
by simple choice.  I kept Derrick's face in mind -- it was the only thing
keeping my from running out into the airport and trying to arrange a
ticket for me on that plane on my $4 credit limit.

I was bear hugged from behind and lifted off my feet.  I felt Joey's
goatee scratching the back of my neck.  "Bye, Davey!"

"Yeah, bye, Joey.  Better luck with the girls next time."

He put me down.  "Hey, I did alright.  I got a few numbers."

"Well, if numbers are all you want, then congratulations."  I smirked as
he mimed bring shot through the heart.

Chris held out his hand and we shook, then he pulled me into a hug and
gave me three strong pats on the back -- the typical man hug.  "Email me
or you'll be getting albino fingers in the mail every day until I finally
hear from ya, Davey."

I didn't like this theme of everyone calling me Davey, but I was getting
used to it.  "Just shut up and get on the plane, old man."

He looked like he was about to destroy me with a barrage of pillows, but
Joey pulled him to the door.

"Hey, Just."  Just was just waking up on the couch -- still in that zone
where the waking world was too confusing to process.  "Have a good
week."

He yawned.  "You too, David."  He gave me a very light and drowsy hug
and then wandered in the general direction of the door, managing to stop
himself before the wall did it for him.

Josh was the next to appear in the weird little hug parade.  He looked a
little choked up, and didn't try to speak.  He just pulled me into a
crushing hug before he finally managed to whisper, "Take damn good
care of that piano.  And thanks for the flute."

I relaxed into the hug for a minute.  That was the moment I was sure
Josh was going to be a life long friend.  Maybe even a best friend.  I
smiled at him when he pulled himself away and he wiped at his eyes
with a grin of his own.  And then he was gone, leading Justin out the
door.

James was still there, behind me somewhere.  A great big emotional
iceberg that was still going to sink me.

"I don't want to go, David."

"I know.  But life goes on."

"If you aren't there, standing beside me in six days, I'll hire someone to
hunt you down and kill you."

"Death is the only thing that'll keep me away, hun."

I turned around and he practically launched himself into my arms.

And then he was gone.  Leaving the room in some sort of half-run, not
trusting himself to look back.

I fell back onto the couch and sat with my head in my hands until I knew
I was in control again.  Life goes on, my own words.  Six days really
wasn't a long time, I knew.  But time is relative -- and to someone in
love, and inch can look like a mile.

Me cell phone rang as I was about to leave the room, about to return to
life.

"Hello?"

"I love you, Davey."

"Ditto, James.  Ditto."

He hung up.

***

End of Part 23

Sorry -- 2 parts instead of 3.  The strike didn't happen, Halloween parties
galore (Gay High Holy . . . week?!) and a few essays thrown in for spice
-- it all added up to not enough time to do a three parter.  But the third
part wouldn't have had James in it anyway, so y'all didn't miss much. :)

There's a goal date of Sunday or Monday for the next three parter -- but
goals are meant to be . . . .well, fulfilled, but no promises!

thepoetboy@hotmail.com