Date: Sun, 21 May 2000 05:15:48 EDT
From: Gabriella Morrison <sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Surprise Romance 3

Hi everyone!!!

This is my second installment of my story. And I can't believe all the
positive responses I've gotten already. You readers out there know how to
make a girl blush with happiness!!! So thank you, thank you, thank you. And
if you want to send me more comments about this story, good or bad, the
address is sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. Love, Gabriella

DISCLAIMER: This story is not meant to imply the sexuality of any members
of N Sync or Lance Bass.  This story in fact came from the twisted depths
of my mind. It involves a m/m relationship and if you're uncomfortable
reading this, then boy, did you click on a wrong link, honey. If you're not
old enough to read this, then go away. I would really hate you to, but I
don't want anyone getting into trouble! That's enough of my babbling
already...on to the story!


My Surprise Romance (or as its being called, My Summer Romance)

Chapter 3

     Somehow Lance, the girls and I made it to my slightly beat up old
car. I fumbled in the pocket of my jeans for my car keys, and when I looked
up at Lance, I was surprised to see him kneeling down, meeting with the
girls' eye level. He was talking quietly with them, and I leaned against
the car, enjoying the delighted looks on the girls' faces.

     Lance must've sensed that I was watching him, because he looked up at
me, with a big grin on his lips. I returned the smile and swung open the
driver's side door.

     "Sorry about the condition of my car," I apologized. "I know you must
be used to traveling in style."

     "Don't worry about it," Lance said, shrugging it off. "I've traveled
in worse," he said, with a laugh to let me know he was joking. He turned
back to the girls. "Now, would you rather me sit in the back seat or the
front seat?" They stared at him, all three of their mouths practically
hitting the pavement under their feet. "Back seat?" he asked, and they
nodded, wordlessly. I felt a twinge of disappointment, but understood--if
he didn't sit in the back with the girls, they would've probably dragged
him there anyways. And who was anyone to argue with three starstruck little
girls? Definitely not me, that's for sure.

     I got into the car and started up the ignition. As I did this, I
quickly glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Lance staring directly
into it. Our eyes met, and with a smile on my face, I pulled the
transmission into reverse, and headed home.



     To my surprise, the car ride back home was pretty uneventful and
quiet. I had the stereo on, `N Sync still playing in the tape deck, but at
a much lower volume. The rapid-fire chatter from the girls mouths began to
slow down and before I knew it, silence had descended inside the car. When
I reached a red light, I turned around in my seat, and saw three tired
little girls, fast asleep. Natalie's head had fallen on Lance's shoulder,
while Beth and Angela were curled up next to him. It was at times like that
I wish I had a camera, I thought to myself.

     "You tired them out," I whispered to Lance, who just smiled and placed
a finger to his lips. He pointed down at Angela , who had shifted most of
her body across his lap. Suddenly the sound of a rude motorist, brought me
back to life as they honked their horn mercilessly. I turned and saw that
the red light had turned to green and I navigated the rest of my way home,
rather safely, finally turning into the driveway. The house was dark and I
realized that my mother still wasn't home from her late-night job at the
printing press. I looked at the illuminated numbers on the car
stereo. Twelve-oh-six, it read. I cut the engine and turned to Lance, who
had taken off his hat and sunglasses.

     "Think we can get these sleeping beauties into bed?" he asked quietly,
picking Natalie up off his shoulder.

     "Definitely. Natalie's a heavy sleeper. The other two, I'm not sure
of." I opened the car door and fiddled around with the seat to pull out
Beth. "The last thing I need is one of them to shriek out your name and
wake the neighborhood."

    "Incite a riot," Lance laughed quietly, as he managed to climb out of
the backseat of my car. Suddenly the vision of the elderly ladies who
populated my neighborhood, all running out, shrieking Lance's name struck
me as hilarious, and I had to hold back my amusement.

     He noticed this. "Didn't think I was that funny," he said, cradling my
sister in his arms. "But I guess I'm quite the comedian tonight," he said,
modestly.

     "Don't get too full of yourself pop star," I shot back, trying to get
Angela to her feet. There was no way I could carry two eleven year old
girls with out dropping one of them. When I looked back at Lance, I saw
that he was staring at me. I just smiled at him.

     "I'll explain later," I whispered as Angela began to wake up. "Lets
just get them inside."

      Quickly we got my sister and her friends into the house, just as they
began to gain consciousness. Beth and Angela were staying the night, and I
led them upstairs to my sister's bedroom, with Lance and Natalie following
close behind. I almost expected the girls to fully wake up again and go
berserk at seeing a `N Syncer standing there, but instead, they fell into
their sleeping bags that they had set up before we left without a
word. Turning back to Lance, I took Natalie from his arms and gently placed
her into her bed, pulling the sheets up around her. Her eyelids fluttered
open and almost immediately focused in on Lance, who was standing in back
of me.

     "What's he doing here?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.

     "He helped me get you home, honey," I whispered, sitting on the bed
next to her. "Now, he has to go and you have to go to sleep, Nat. Okay?" I
brushed her messy blonde hair away from her eyes and smiled at her.

     Sleep began to overcome her, and she struggled to keep her eyelids
open. "Okay, Stephen-- g'Night. G'Night, Lance."

     "Night, Natalie. Sweet dreams," Lance whispered from behind me, and
before we knew it, my sister was fast asleep. We slowly backed out of the
room, while I shut the lights off and closed the door behind me.

     "You're really good with her," Lance said admiringly as we stood
outside my sister's room. I smiled.

     "Eh, I've been taking care of her since I was thirteen, so I pretty
much know all her quirks. Sleeping, eating--basically everything," I said,
as we walked down the staircase.

     "Thirteen!" Lance exclaimed in surprise, letting out a low
whistle. "That's pretty young."

     "Yeah, well, my dad died when I was eleven, so..." I trailed off as we
reached the bottom of the steps. Lance stopped in his tracks, and looked at
me with concern.

     "Wow, man. Stephen, I'm really sorry," he said, sadness clouding over
his handsome features. He touched my arm as a gesture of sympathy and I
shrugged it off.

     "Don't. I get that all the time. There's nothing I could do about it
then, and there's nothing I can do about it now, can I?" I smiled at him,
and he tentatively smiled back. I didn't feel that I had to burden Lance
with my personal problems, and besides, who wanted to talk about a such a
depressing subject like that after such an exciting night?

     "Can I get you something to drink?" I asked Lance, after an awkward
silence passed between us.

     "You have any coffee?" Lance asked, and for the first time that night,
I noticed how deep and accented his voice was.

     "You from the South?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes in mock
suspicion.

     He fanned out his shirt towards me, showing off the faded
`Mississippi' logo and gave me this funny look. "Home state. Born and
raised there. So I'd say the answer to your question is a definite `yes',"
Lance said, raising his eyebrows.

     "Then that's the answer to your question as well," I said, laughing. I
waved my hand, gesturing him to come on into the kitchen. "Come on--is
instant coffee okay with you?"

     "Fine," he answered, and took a seat at the kitchen table. I put on a
pot of water and pulled two coffee mugs out of a cupboard.

     "My mom hates coffee--she only drinks herbal tea, which explains the
instant," I said, waving the plastic jar of Folger's around while rolling
my eyes. "She thinks that all caffeine is poison for your body."

     "She must not be human," Lance joked as he began to unconsciously spin
the lazy susan that sat in the middle of the table. He caught himself in
mid-spin and laughed. "Sorry. I just come into your home and begin to
destroy stuff. Not a good guest, am I?"

     "Please, my mother is so precise about stuff. It drives me insane--I'd
move out if i could. Mess up anything you'd like," I offered, as I turned
back to the stove. The kettle began to whistle and I took it off the stove,
pouring it into the two cups. We each fixed our drinks and then Lance
looked up at me.

     "So, how come you were laughing so much when we were at the car
before?" Lance asked, narrowing his green eyes at me over his coffee.

     Those eyes. I could barely think straight when he stared at me like
that. He continued to stare at me, a smile forming on his lips, and I
realized that I should at least answer him before he thought I was too
weird.

     "Well, you mentioned something about inciting a riot," I recalled,
before taking a sip of my coffee. I scratched my head and continued, "Most
of this neighborhood consists of women in their sixties and seventies. So
if let's say, Angela or Beth screamed your name and these elderly women
began running out ..."

     Lance quickly caught on to my thought and let out a burst of
laughter. "Oh, I get it--ha ha, very funny Stephen. Are you saying N Sync
can't be as popular with the sixty and over crowd as we are with the twenty
and under?" He stuck out his lower lip, pretending to be mad.

     "Hey, you said it, not me," I laughed. I was really enjoying Lance's
company, which surprised me, since I was usually more of an introverted
type. I ran my hand through my short brown hair, and leaned my head on my
arm. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Lance, and quite frankly the way he
was staring at me was both freaking me out as well as intriguing me at the
same time. But suddenly I realized that I had never been attracted to
someone this much in my entire twenty-one years of living.

     `Calm down, Stephen,' the voice in my head told me. `For all you know,
he's as straight as an arrow and if he found out you were gay, he'd
probably run out of this house screaming. Then he'd go back to the rest of
the guys and they'd all have a good laugh over it.' Still, my intuition was
telling me something else, and besides, guys don't really stare at each
other *that* way, do they?

     I broke our little staring match with a question of my own. "So how
come you came back here, instead of going out with the rest of guys to the
club?  I'm sure you would've have much more fun partying then hanging out
with some strange guy, his N Sync crazed teeny bopper sister and her
friends," I said, taking another sip of my coffee.

      Lance looked at me again and set down his coffee mug. "Look,
Stephen--sometimes you just don't want to do the same thing night after
night. You're on the outside, so a life of touring and going out 24-7 seems
like fun. But I've been doing this for years," Lance sighed. He placed his
head in his hands and shook it, letting out a soft groan. "It's
exhausting," he muttered. Then he looked up, and began to smile. "But then
you happen to meet someone who seems pretty cool, and you just want to hang
out with them." His eyes met mine again. "Like you," he concluded,
polishing off his coffee and slamming down the mug as though he was
finalizing his point.

     "And I thought you just wanted to hang out with Natalie and her
friends," I said, rolling my eyes heavenwards.

"Oh, damn--you found out my little secret," Lance said, looking
disappointed. "No use in sitting here anymore. See ya Stephen," he
chuckled, pretending to get up.

"Boy, will I have stuff to tell the reporters after you leave," I said,
rubbing my hands together. "A pop star right here in my kitchen, expressing
his undying love for my little sister and her friends! Hoo, boy will I have
a field day with this!" I picked up the cordless phone sitting on the table
next to me and faked punching in a number. "Hello, reporters--wait till you
hear this about--" I placed a hand over the mouthpiece, "I'm sorry, what's
your name? I really can't distinguish any of you boy-band members apart."

By the time I finished my little joke, Lance was laughing so hard, I
thought he was going to start crying. He was doubled over, his face a
bright red. I was surprised he found me so hilarious, since usually people
find me a bit dour and depressing. I couldn't help it though--Lance brought
out this side to me that I usually tried to hide, so that people wouldn't
make fun of me.

"See what I mean?" Lance said, sitting back down, scooting his chair a bit
closer. "People usually don't crack jokes like that. It's all about putting
us up on some sort of pedestal and fawning over us. They never see the
humor in our lives or our situation." He flashed his handsome grin at me,
and looked at me in almost a shy sort of way. "Thanks, Stephen--I needed
that."

"No problem. Anytime you need to be pulled back down to our planet here,
come on over. But you know, I'll have to start charging you per hour," I
said, looking serious while waggling a finger at him.

"Hey, I thought we were friends," Lance complained, looking offended.

"Eh, quit whining, you can afford it," I bantered. Our laughter trailed
off, and we found ourselves sitting in silence once again. After our joking
around, I found Lance more attractive than before, and I silently chided
myself for even thinking these thoughts about him.

"So--are you involved with anyone now?" Lance suddenly asked. His voice cut
through my thoughts like broken glass, and I jerked my head up and looked
at him. Why did he just ask me that question? How do I answer it?

I took a deep breath, hoping that Lance wouldn't notice that my face had
turned a pale white and that my hands were beginning to tremble slightly. I
rested them on my lap and looked down at them. Then I looked up at the
handsome person, sitting across from me, waiting for an answer to his
question.

"Actually," I was surprised at how strong my voice sounded, because inside,
I felt like I was falling apart to pieces.  I cleared my throat. "I'm not."
I thought I saw Lance breathe a sigh of relief, but I could have been very
well hallucinating instead.

"Actually," I repeated. "I'm gay."

The words in my nerved up mind sounded like lead blocks hitting the
ground. I had to clamp my hands against my legs since they were shaking so
badly. To my complete surprise, Lance's steadfast gaze didn't break away
from mine. `Come on,' I thought to myself. `Just start freaking out like my
mother did and let's get this over with...'

But I guess I didn't give him enough credit, because all he did was
smile. "So?" he asked. "You're gay. Big friggin' deal," Lance shrugged, and
I searched his face for any traces of discomfort or horror. But nope, there
wasn't any. Just the same friendly (and attractive, I should add)
expression that I had been talking to before. I let out a breath that I
didn't even know I was holding, and fell back into my chair, relieved.

"But you never answered my question," Lance said. "Are you involved with
anyone?"

My head once again jerked up in astonishment. Anymore of these surprise
questions and I would wind up in the hospital with a good case of
self-imposed whiplash. And how the hell do you explain *that* to the nurses
and doctors?

"Nah...I'm not good at relationships or anything." The laugh that escaped
my lips was quite bitter and not only did I notice this, but Lance did as
well. His eyebrows shot up almost clear off his forehead when he heard my
short laugh. "Actually, I only came out a little while ago and I've haven't
quite hit the dating scene yet." I chuckled at my remark. "Why? You got a
member of `N Sync that you want to fix me up with?"

Lance remained strangely quiet at my remark. A funny look passed over his
face and then he suddenly began laughing. "Oh yeah, the whole band," he
joked. "All of `em--Joey, JC, Chris, Justin--especially Justin," Lance
laughed.  "And let's not forget about me."

I had to laugh at that, although I felt very let down. Obviously he wasn't
gay. But he was perfectly okay with the fact that I was. And to tell you
the truth, I would've taken than feeling any day (although finding out that
he was gay would have been just as nice).

Just then, I heard the sound of the front door opening and seconds later,
my mother appeared in the living room, throwing her purse on the couch. She
looked at me, and waved.

"Hi, Stephen," she called out. "How was the concert?"

"Fine," I called out. "In fact, I brought a guest home." She looked
curiously at me, and walked into the kitchen. To my shock, she gasped and
placed her hand over her chest.

"Oh my Lord--you're that boy from N Sync!" she exclaimed, holding onto a
kitchen countertop for support. Lance gave me a *look* and then turned back
to my mother, who had instantly turned into a teenager right in front of my
eyes.

"Yes I am," Lance said, obviously amused by my mother's antics. He held out
his hand. "Please to meet you, mam'm. You have a lovely daughter." With his
deep accent, he sounded rather charming, and almost seductive.

This did not go to waste on my dear mother, who looked at me with a huge
grin on her face. "He's so polite!"she fawned, grabbing for a stray letter
that sat on the counter. "May I have your autograph, Mr. Bass?"

I felt my face turn red, which proved to me that no matter how old you
think you are, your parents can still embarrass the high hell out of
you. Lance signed the envelope, and insisted that she call him, "Lance".

"Mr. Bass makes me feel old," he told her, laughing. "It makes me feel like
I should be married with children, or whatever," he said, handing her back
the envelope. `Yeah,' I bitterly thought. `To some lucky, lucky girl.'

"Thank you, Mr. Ba--I mean Lance! Oh, the girls at work love you! They
thought you were so cute on that Millionaire show!" my mom gushed. It was
at that point of embarrassment, I decided that I should intervene.

"Mom, I hate to cut in, but Lance really has to get back to his
hotel. Don't you have that radio interview tomorrow?" I reminded Lance,
hoping that he would catch my drift.

"Oh yeah," he said, looking visibly relieved. "Bright and early."

"What station?" my mom asked, clutching the autograph to her chest as
though someone was going to run through the kitchen and try to steal it
from her.

"WKSS," Lance said. "The same one that sponsored the giveaway that Natalie
won," he explained. "At nine sharp."

"Need a ride back to the hotel?" I asked Lance, who nodded and gave me a
look that clearly read, `Get me out of here--NOW'.  I picked up my keys off
of the counter and looked at my mom.

"Just gonna drop Lance here off at the hotel, and then I'll be back," I
told her. "Ready?" I asked, looking back at him. He nodded and practically
ran out of my house as though it was on fire. I managed to avoid my mother
and we somehow made it into the safety of my car. I started it up and
pulled out of the driveway so fast, the tires screeched against the
blacktop.

"Jesus," Lance laughed, shaking his head. "She was worse than your sister
and her friends! Not to offend you, Stephen, but she kinda scared me."

"Same here. I've never seen her like that before!" I exclaimed as I pulled
out onto the main road. "Maybe I was wrong about those sixty and seventy
year old ladies. Maybe they would know who you are, Mr. Big Shot."

 "See. If that's how your mom reacted, those old ladies in your
neighborhood would've probably wanted to take me into their homes and feed
me bowls of soup!" he exclaimed as he gave me a triumphant look.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled jokingly. "Good for you." I asked him then, where
he was staying and he directed me to the hotel that `N Sync was registered
at. It took only minutes to get there and in my heart, I felt that the car
ride was too short. I couldn't believe that this was the last I'd ever get
to see of him. I pulled into the parking lot of the posh, uppity hotel that
he was staying at and cut the engine.

"So...have a good rest-of-tour. `Stay `N Sync'," I said, rolling my eyes.

"How could I not?" Lance said, with a laugh.  "It was nice meeting you,
Stephen. Really great," he added, as he opened the door.

"Same here," I said quietly. I couldn't believe that at that moment, I
wanted to break down and cry. What the hell had I become? A soap opera
waiting to happen? I quickly scolded myself for letting go of the defensive
personality that I had always held on to. `This is what happens when you
let your guard down,' I told myself sternly.

Just then, Lance let the door close, and he looked at me. "Hey, what do you
say we hang out tomorrow afternoon? After the interview?" He smiled at me
and the guard that I was trying to put back up, fell down faster than an
exploded building.

"That'd be great," I quickly agreed, hoping my voice didn't sound too
eager. "Should I meet you here?"

"Yeah--why don't you come up to our floor? Around noon?" Lance said. "Oh,
just tell the clerk at the front desk the code word so that they let you up
with no hassles."

"What's the word?"

Lance paused for a second, his eyes taking on a mischievous glint. "It's
`Natalie'" he finally said. "We changed it right before the concert. The
guys really loved your sister and her friends, you know."

I was touched. "Really? That's great--I think you just made her whole life
complete tonight, Lance. You and the guys are great."

"Well, we do what we can" he said, pulling on his fisherman's hat. "Hey,
maybe you can do some of that ego-deflating psychiatry tomorrow. I know
after your mother, I definitely need it!" Lance and I laughed at his joke
and he got out of the car.

"Bye, Stephen," he said, `See you tomorrow."

"Around noon?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. See ya." And I watched him walk into the
building. A few seconds passed before I realized that my eyes were focused
on his ass. I felt my face turn a dark red at my realization, before
something else hit me. I would be spending the entire next afternoon with
him...how would I be able to control my emotions then?

Well, I thought, as I pulled out of the hotel parking lot, I would just
have to wait and see...



So that's it, the end of Chapter three. There's definitely more coming and
I hope ya'll are having a great time reading this. I love writing it. So
please, please, please (do I have to get on my knees?) e-mail me at
sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and tell me what you think of it. Until next
time... Gabriella.