Date: Wed, 03 Jan 2001 16:04:16 -0500
From: Gabriella Morrison <sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Surprise Romance 49/part 1

Hi y'all!!!


Well Happy New Year to everyone! I hope everyone had a safe and fun one and
that everyone had a chance to sleep off their hangovers =)

And with that I proudly announce to you Chapter 49, Part 1 of MSR. Part 2
should follow very soon =)

Please check out my website, Sweetheart Stories, which has moved! The new
address is http://www.freespeech.org/gabriella . The 50's retro look is
gone, poodles....brand new me for a brand new year =)

Feedback--oh, I almost forgot. Thank you to *everyone* who sent me feedback
from last chapters plea. I was, quite honestly, amazed by the responses I
got, many of them from my fellow authors! Wow! Thanks everyone! Y'all don't
know how much I appreciated that (almost as much as if I got Lanshy under
my tree with a strategically placed bow =) ...maybe next year...) But thank
you, thank you, thank you!

Thank you: Ethan, Damon, David, Barry, Dale...Lord, my mind sucks. I can't
remember y'alls names. Thank you to my `#1 hubby', John for being who he
is, Killian for just being there even though I never email you (I
suck...sorry, sweetie), Khiem and Clarkey. Mucho, mucho thanks go out to
the two men in my life: Val and Justin. You guys have seen me through every
crisis and are kind enough to listen to me rant. You put up with the
non-stop Lanshy ramblings (hell, J, you only add to the fire each time =) )
and pick up my esteem when it's down (and sometimes you even pop egos, V
=)) I love you both more than words ever can say and thank you for just
being there for me ::sniffle::

Okay, I'll shut up now. Remember, feedback is good. I like
feedback. sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER: oh it's fake people, get a clue. If I knew Lance or JC, I
certainly wouldn't be writing about them (although, Jayce--you look girlier
and girlier every single day..). If you're not old enough, I don't want to
know.

(I've been wanting to write this chapter for ages...really. The title is a
tribute to *the* absolute goddess, Liz Phair. Her first demo tape was
called Girlysound.)

 My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 49 - Part 1

Girlysound


"You know how I hate planes," I muttered under my breath as Lance and I
boarded the airplane that was taking us to Wisconsin.

Ahh, Wisconsin--home to my wonderful cousin, which is exactly the reason we
were going there. Lance and I were taking a midnight flight out so that we
could see her and her band, Effervescent Popsicle play at this ultra-hip
indie rock club called the Madison Lounge. But of course we had to take a
plane, which my stomach wasn't liking one bit. I felt like I was going to
puke all over the place, and as I walked down the aisle, I felt dizzy and
faint.

Spinning myself around, I looked directly at Lance, who nearly bumped right
into me as I did this. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. *I hate
them*," I barked with obvious distaste as I stood there in the middle of
the aisle, sweating as though I had just run a marathon.

"Well, Stephen," Lance snapped as he placed our bags in the overhead
compartment. "How *do* you expect to get to Wisconsin then? Walk?" Glaring
briefly at my boyfriend, I took a window seat, and crossed my arms over my
chest. Lance sat down next to me, silent for a few seconds, before turning
back to me, an apologetic look on his face.

"Aw, come on Stephen," Lance said softly, placing a hand on my arm. "Let's
not fight. What if this plane goes down in a burning, horrific wreck that
not one of us will survive? The last thing I want to remember is some petty
fight that we had." His unassuring words pierced deftly into my stomach
like he had pulled out a large knife and stabbed me. That scenario was
something I *did* not need to hear.

"Thanks, Lance," I said dryly, as I unfolded my arms and clutched onto the
armrests, even though the plane hadn't even moved yet. Precautionary
measures, I guess. I did my best to keep a stern face as I looked at my
boyfriend, but found it impossible to stay mad once I stared into those
beautiful green eyes that I loved. "You know, you calm my nerves down so
much."

"I know," Lance laughed easily as he stretched his legs out in front of
him. "Don't I? By saying things like `burning wreck'?" Lance began to laugh
again, only to be stopped by my stern gaze. "Sorry," he apologized quietly,
though I could tell by the mischievous look in his eyes, he still wanted to
laugh. Sure he thought it was funny, but I didn't.

Turning away from Lance, I chose to look out the window instead. `In only a
few hours, you and Lance will be in Wisconsin and everything will be okay,'
I told myself reassuringly. `You're gonna have a great time and you'll be
fine.'  I smiled at the thought of my bass welding cousin taking over the
stage, with all eyes on her. She'd be in heaven since she loved the
attention. As I ignored the whir of the airplane's engine, I forced myself
to remember the early days of when Cynthia was trying to get a rock band
together. I had visited her at college and was there when she was
auditioning people left and right in her dorm room, much to the dismay of
her Bible toting roommate who considered any kind of rock music a sin.

She finally narrowed it down to three guys, singling them out only if they
could answer one of her strange questions: "Three is silver?" According to
what Cynthia told me, one of them, Keith who wound up as the drummer
answered, "Purple is gold." The guitar player, Mark said, "What kind of
drugs have you been taking and can I have any?" And the other guitarist,
David, asked her, "You crazy fuck, what the hell are you talking about?" I
guess that question was her little test--to see if they could handle her
strange behavior and mind games. They've been a band ever since and to be
honest, those kids are pretty damn good--for a local indie band at least.

"Stephen?" Lance asked, knocking me out of my thoughts. I looked back at
him and smiled, letting him know that the moment of anger between us had
passed. I hadn't really been mad at Lance, just a little keyed up, that's
all.

"Yeah?"

"You know I was thinking...what does Effervescent Popsicle mean?" Lance's
face was the perfect look of confusion as he continued on. "I mean, is it
some kind of sexual reference? It *is* Cynthia were talking about here, you
know?"

Chuckling at my boyfriend's comment, I just patted his hand discreetly as
other people began to take seats around us. "Silly Lance...your mind is
*always* on dirty, isn't it?" I managed to say, despite the fact that the
the pilot was starting to make his announcements over the plane's PA
system.

"That, my dear Stephen, is entirely your fault," he shot back in a low
voice so that no one would hear us. "I was a saint before I met you." I
couldn't help but snort at Lance's remark.

"Yeah, a saint of the devil, is more like it," I noted, as I absentmindedly
ran my fingers over Lance's silver ID bracelet. "Anyways, to get back to
the original subject, Effervescent Popsicle isn't a sexual thing. See,
Cynthia used to be obsessed with the Monkees...you know, from the sixties?"

"Yup," Lance nodded. "I used to think that Mike was cute." Blushing at the
words he had just spoken, Lance became speechless for a second. "I...uh..."

Smiling, I just dismissed it with a wave of my hand. "Don't worry...so did
I. And so did Cynthia." I rolled my eyes as I remembered Cynthia's said
infatuation with the Texan singer. "She was obsessed with Mike...it was
kinda scary for awhile. She went out and bought all of his post-Monkees
albums, and then bought all of the reissued CD's...everytime she called me
up, all she would talk about was Mike this and Mike that..."

Smiling pleasantly at me, Lance listed to me before the confused look
overcame his eyes once more. "Okay...I'm not sure where you're going with
this, but okay..."

"Patience," I said, patting his hand once more, allowing my fingers to
press against his soft skin. "I'm getting to the point." Clearing my
throat, I continued with my story. "Well, once Cynth got the reissues, she
would read all the liner notes obsessively. And in one of them, it said
that Mike named one of his demo songs, `Effervescent Popsicle'." I paused
to catch my breath. "And this was around the time Cynthia was getting her
band together...she thought that was a cool name. So, put two and two
together and voila! Cynthia names her band Effervescent Popsicle. Nice,
huh?"

"Very nice," Lance laughed. "I'm glad there was some kind of explanation
for it. I thought it was a nickname for..." He blushed darkly for a second
and rolled his eyes. "You know..." I smiled at Lance, marveled by how he
could be one way with me in private (the really naughty Lance) and how he
was in public (an angel). But then isn't that how everyone is? Two sides to
every person I guess. Not noticing that I had fallen back into my own
world, Lance continued on with his thoughts. "You never know with
Cynthia...she's a little unpredictable at times, you know."

"Lance, you're talking about my cousin," I laughed. "A *little*
unpredictable? Come on...you look up the world `unpredictable' in the
dictionary and you'll find Cynthia's picture next to it." We laughed once
more and I felt myself relax. And then the plane began to move.

"Oh God," I muttered under my breath, as my body stiffened once
more. Another round of sweat began to break out on my skin. I really hated
flying--and obviously, a job as an airplane pilot or stewardess wasn't in
my future any time soon.

"Don't worry, Stephen," Lance whispered, noticing my very obvious
discomfort.  He tipped his head towards mine, gently brushing his lips
against my earlobe and I silently thanked the airplane gods for the seats
we had been assigned. We were in a darkened section of the plane, away from
the other passengers. And luckily, it wasn't that full and the people who
were on it with us, were mostly forty and up in age.

"I'm here," Lance murmured his lips tickling my skin. "I wouldn't let
anything happen to you. In fact, I'll flag down one of the stewardesses and
get you a drink to calm your nerves down a little, `kay?" Reassuring me
even more, Lance gently took my hand in his and wrapped his fingers snugly
around my now sweating palm. "I promise I'll take care of you...promise."

"Promise? Really?" I asked breathlessly, as the airplane began its decent
into the air. I looked over at Lance, where I found him smiling at me, lips
curved into a heartfelt smile. He squeezed my hand once more, and gently
stroked my palm with his thumb.

"Promise."




"Told you we'd be alright," Lance snickered as we rose from our seats. "But
no, you have to worry..." My heartbeat was slowly returning to normal as
was my breathing. The plane had landed with no problems and I couldn't have
been happier. I was much calmer than I had been when I got on the
plane. Part of it was thanks to Lance, who held onto my hand every chance
we had, but part of it was also due to the drinks he had been ordering me
almost nonstop during the flight.

"You got me drunk," I slurred as I pulled my bag from the overhead
compartment, nearly hitting Lance in the head. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey, I had to control you somehow," Lance laughed suggestively, as he
punched me in the shoulder. "And what better way to control you than to get
you drunk?"

"Well," I began, pausing in what I perceived was conscious
thought. "There's lots of ways. Handcuffs for one. Hey, do you still have
the handcuffs we stole from Harris and Justin? I *really* liked when you
used those on me," I rambled as we shuffled off the plane. Of course, just
as I asked this question, Lance and I passed a group of stewardesses who
had been hitting on my boyfriend all night. A look of shock came across
their faces as my suggestive question hit the air. Noticing this, Lance
smiled broadly at them, although judging by the look in his eyes, he was
going to kill me for not watching what I said. I couldn't help it though--I
was drunk, and when I was drunk, I couldn't be held accountable for what
came out of my mouth.

"Sorry about my friend here, girls," Lance said apologetically. "He's a
little tipsy. He really doesn't know what he's talking about." And to
punctuate his remark, as we walked out of the plane, I stumbled over my own
two feet, nearly knocking myself into a wall.

"Whoops," I said as I steadied myself into a standing position. "The floor
is moving..."Giving the stewardesses a look that clearly read, `See what I
mean?', Lance flashed them a relieved smile, thankful for my drunken
state. "Come on, Stephen...we've gotta find Cynthia. I just want to give
her a big kiss..." And with that, he grabbed my arm and began to lead me
into the terminal.

"I should get you drunk more often," Lance giggled, as he watched my
distressed state. Obviously he wasn't mad by what I had said, just
amused. "It gives me an excuse to touch you in public, you know."

"Yeah," I said, although I hadn't exactly heard his words. I was paying
more attention to the sound of what I thought was my brain sloshing around
in my head. "Whatever. Where's Cynthia?" I gurgled, looking around as Lance
and I walked into the airport. He was still holding onto my arm, guiding me
with every step so that I wouldn't fall flat on my face. A few seconds
passed and all the people that passed me by didn't look like my cousin. I
had no idea who they were...Lord, I was smashed.

"Stevie!" I heard a loud, high pitched, female squeal suddenly fill the
air, startling the people that stood around us. Looking over to the right,
I saw Cynthia running towards Lance and I, full speed ahead. "And Lancey!"
I heard the sound of her footsteps, saw a flash of red hair and then,
before I could steady myself, I was lying flat on my back. Good God,
Cynthia had tried to jump on me and thanks to my unsteady balance, I must
have toppled right over. Great.

"What's going on?" I mumbled, feeling like I was about to throw
up. "Cynthia? What the..." I saw my cousin's worried face swim before my
eyes.

"Stevie? You're drunk?" She asked in surprise, her voice filled with worry
as she pulled herself off the floor.

"I got him drunk," I heard Lance say. Listening them was like being the
viewer at a movie. They were talking about me as though I didn't even
exist. "You know how Stephen hates flying and he was freaking out on me,"
Lance explained hastily. "I had to do something before he started running
around the plane like some crazed lunatic..."

"Nice, Lance..."Cynthia snapped. "Now we gotta drag him home...throw him
into the backseat of the car...and where the hell did Josh go?"

"I'm right here and--whoa! What's Stephen doing on the floor?!?!" I could
tell that the third voice entering the conversation was Josh. Pause. I
continued to stare at the ceiling. Boy, did the airport use nice ceiling
tiles. And the lights. They were pretty as well. Josh's voice floated back
into my mind and he took full advantage of the fact I was lying on the
floor. "Lance, you weren't trying to get it on with him in the middle of
the airport here, were you?" The older `N Syncer asked slyly.

"*No*" Lance defended himself, before adding, "For your information, Josh,
I got him drunk." Another pause and then the knowing laughter of Cynthia
and Josh mingled together so loudly, my ears nearly bled. `Why do we have
to cause a spectacle everytime we're in an airport?', I asked myself.

`Yeah, Lance,' I thought some more as my mouth wasn't up to moving. There
was a good possibility that I would throw up all over the place if I
did. Talking would have taken too much effort. `That's an even better thing
to say. You got me drunk.'

"Oh that's nice, Lance...What? Was Stevie being a prude and you tried to
loosen him up?" I heard Cynthia giggle before she and Josh burst into
another round of explosive laughter. And I was still flat on my back, the
cold tile floor of the Madison International Airport making me
shiver. Didn't anyone care about me? What if I choked on my tongue? I could
die and my cousin and Josh would still be cracking suggestive jokes about
Lance and I. As I lie there, I wondered what people were thinking about me
as they passed...

"Uh..you two...maybe we should get him off the floor?" I heard Lance's
voice break up their laughter. "I mean, wouldn't that be the smart thing to
do instead of standing there and laughing at him?"

"Yeah!" I yelled out loud, deciding to speak, since that *was* the best
answer. Not to mention that maybe Cynthia and Josh would finally stop
laughing at me. "Let's get Stephen up and off the floor, okay?"

Silence. And then another round of explosive laughter from the mouths of
Josh and Cynthia.

"I'm sure we'll have no problem in getting Stevie `up'," I heard Cynthia
remark slyly as a pair of hands slipped underneath my arms and pulled the
upper half of my body off the floor. "After all, Lancey is here. That's all
Stevie needs to get himself up!" More laughter from the `hilarious'
twosome, as someone lifted my legs up off the floor. My body was off the
ground, swaying back and forth as the three of them began to carry me out
of the airport.

"Remember when we did this when you two first met?" I heard Cynthia
suddenly question. "When I nearly killed him with those airsickness pills?"
Suddenly, I saw my cousin's heart-shaped face peer downwards at me. "Geez,
Stevie--you're starting a trend here, aren't you?"

I wanted to tell my cousin to politely, `fuck off', but for some reason, my
tongue felt two sizes too big for my mouth. And before I could think of
anything else, I promptly passed out.




"Uuuhhhh," I moaned as I rolled over onto my stomach. I managed to pry my
sleep-encrusted eyes open, as I felt my chin lying in something
wet. Looking downwards, I awoke to the fact that I was lying in a puddle of
my own drool.

"Oh gross," I muttered as I rolled onto my back. I was lying in a bed. And
sunlight was streaming brightly through the windows. My first reaction was
to roll back onto my stomach, causing my chin to land in the puddle of my
own spit once more.

"Uuuggghh," I moaned as I rolled back, pulled the pillow from under my head
and placed it over my face, careful to avoid the spot of saliva that
randomly dotted the cotton. Just as I got myself adjusted to the calming
darkness, I felt as the pillow was suddenly yanked off my face, exposing my
eyes once more to the painful sunshine.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Lance's voice shot perkily through my ears as
he flopped down on the bed next to me. "Come on, let's see a smile!"

"Keep it up and you'll get punch in the face instead of a smile," I managed
to shoot back, before yanking the pillow back from my boyfriend's hands. "I
wouldn't be in this state if *someone*--" I moved the pillow so I could
look pointedly into Lance's green eyes "--didn't get me so drunk I had to
be carried into here last night."

"Oh please," Lance smiled, leaning over to ruffle my hair. "You act like
you've never gotten drunk before...and besides--it worked, didn't it? You
weren't nervous during the flight."

"Not after my fourth drink," I managed to laugh, trying to shake off my
grumpiness. I mean, I had Lance here with me. What could be better?
"Morning, Lance....did you sleep well?" I asked him as he helped me into a
sitting position.

"Yup," Lance whispered as he shifted his body closer to mine and slipped a
hand underneath my shirt so that he could caress my back. "Your aunt and
uncle let me sleep in the same bed as you last night...you just didn't know
it..." His eyebrows arched up suggestively at the thought.

"You slept with me?" I asked in surprise as I turned to look at my
boyfriend. His face was inches from mine, lips curved into a smirk that I
just couldn't resist. I leaned over and gave him a quick good morning
kiss--he didn't even seem to be bothered that I hadn't brushed my teeth.

"Yup," Lance nodded, eyes shining as he spoke. "Right next to you--and let
me tell you--you're much more fun to play with when you're passed out..."
Flashing me a wicked grin, Lance pulled himself over my body so that he was
straddling my hips. "*Much* more fun, you know..."

"You didn't do a thing to me, Mr. Bass," I laughed as he ran his fingers
through my hair.

"Wanna bet?" Raising an eyebrow at me, Lance knocked me back onto the bed,
placing messy kisses on my neck. I closed my eyes once more, not because of
the sunlight, but because Lance's lips felt so *damn* good on my
skin. Alternating between soft and hard, teasing and nipping at sections of
my skin as his mouth began to travel lower...

Suddenly the door to the room flew open and in walked Cynthia, a flurry of
activity as she entered the guest bedroom.

"Morning you two horndogs," she announced as she walked over to the window
and opened it. "Mom told me that I should come in here and get some air
circulating--our air conditioner decide to break during Madison's hottest
summer on record..." Stopping in her tracks, Cynthia finally noticed that
Lance and I were wrapped up in each other, trying to get ourselves lost in
a rather intimate moment.

"Oh...am I interrupting something?" she asked coyly, leaning against the
wall opposite my bed. She watched as Lance crawled off of me. Judging from
the look on his face, he was extremely embarrassed that my cousin had
decided to watch us make out.

"And good morning to you too, Cynthia," Lance muttered under his breath as
he ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "How the hell are you this lovely
morning?" His words were sarcastic and bitter, but Cynthia didn't even
notice it. Instead, she stepped closer to where Lance and I lay, legs still
entwined as I tried to control my now-raspy breathing.

"Wonderful--even if mom and dad won't let Josh sleep in my room. They've
been making him sleep on the couch ever since we got back from Florida,"
Cynthia huffed as she took a place on the foot of my bed, ignoring the
daggers Lance and I were shooting at her. "For God's sake...they still
think I'm a *virgin*," she snorted. "Yeah, right..."

"Hmmm," I mused, examining my fingernails before looking back up at
her. "Maybe it's time to give Aunt Florence and Uncle George some good news
about their little girl?"

Picking up a throw pillow that sat next to her, she threw it straight at my
face. "Sure, Stevie," Cynthia said as she watched the pillow hit me
squarely in the face. "Tell them why don't you? And why not about your good
news as well? Cause for some reason, they think you're an `innocent' too."

Next to me, Lance began to convulse into a fit of giggles at the thought of
my innocence. "That's funny," he managed to gasp out, barely able to
control his laughter. "Stephen--a virgin..." Shaking his head, Lance began
to wipe away the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes.

A slow smile began to spread out on Cynthia's face once she heard this. "It
*is* funny," she giggled. "Almost as funny as the one about you being a
virgin too, Lancey-poo." The two of them continued to laugh, until Lance
realized that Cynthia's last remark had been aimed directly at him.

"You be quiet," Lance's laughter began to subside as he pulled himself off
my bed. "For all you know, Cynthia--I *might* be a virgin." Widening his
eyes innocently at Cynthia, he gave her a big, heartfelt grin. "Maybe I'm
waiting until Stephen and I get married..."

For a second, I think Cynthia actually believed us. She tipped her head
sideways, lips pursed in thought, until she noticed my face practically
turning purple. It was a desperate attempt to hold my laughter back, while
Lance began to make his way to the door. When I couldn't hold it back any
longer, I collapsed into a fit of laughter, falling backwards on the bed.

Rolling her eyes, Cynthia just shook her head, realizing that she had been
fooled. "Oh that's *very* funny, Lance!!! You're quite the comedian, aren't
you?" Cynthia reached for another throw pillow and threw it in his
direction. He dodged it just in time, slipping out of the room just as the
pillow hit the door with a loud thud. Laughing to herself, Cynthia finally
turned to me and gave me a bright smile, her good mood radiating through
the room.

"Morning, Stevie," she said enthusiastically, while watching me lick my dry
lips. "And how are you feeling this morning? A little hungover?" I looked
up to find my cousin's bright, violet eyes peering worriedly at me. As I
stretched out my sore limbs, I realized that I had been hungover more times
that I could count--and that Lance was a terrible influence on me. If I
kept going down this path, I'd need a liver transplant by the time school
started.

"Like crap," I said shortly, as I sat up once more, my balance still shaky
from the after effects. "I still can't believe Lance got me drunk last
night..." And before I could elaborate any further, the door to the guest
room opened and a blonde bundle of energy ran in. I didn't even have time
to respond, when Natalie jumped onto my bed, and wrapped her thin arms
around my neck.

"Stephen!!!!" Natalie squealed, her voice filled with excitement as her
blonde hair flew around her face. She planted a sloppy, wet kiss on my
stubble covered cheek and hugged me even tighter. "Oh my gosh, Stephen, I
missed you so much!!!"

Instantly, I felt tears come to my eyes. My sister. The person whom I had
been so close to only a few months before, and now, I had somehow managed
to forget her in the haste of falling in love. Guilt is a lovely thing,
isn't it?

"Natalie," I breathed as I pulled my little sister to my chest and stroked
her soft blonde hair. "I've missed you so much sweetie..." Looking over
Natalie's shoulder, I saw Cynthia watching us and wetness come to her
eyes. Reunions always made her misty-eyed.

Pulling away from my embrace, I saw Natalie's eyes turn glassy as
well. "Stephen," she murmured, running her small hands over my face. "Why
haven't you called me? Or sent me a postcard?" She sniffed a couple of
times, and each sniff felt like daggers were being shot into my heart. "I
haven't spoken to you since the funeral ended..."

At that particular moment, I felt about six inches tall. Looking into my
sisters big, blue eyes, I felt an old part of me rise back to the
surface. The part that would have killed for my sister. She was only eleven
for Christ's sake...and I had swept her off to the side, putting Lance (and
don't think I didn't love the man, because God knows I did) ahead of
anything else.

"I know, Natalie," I said softly, my voice cracking as it left my
throat. "I know--and I'm really sorry..." I realized how *lame* my words
sounded just then. `I'm really sorry'???? Who was I kidding???

And suddenly, the sad look on her face turned to one of mischief. "That's
okay," she said, her eyes turning aqua with humor. "You and Uncle Lance
were probably too busy making each other happy..."

`Uncle Lance'??? I repeated to myself. Where did she get *that* one? My
face twisted up into a confused expression, until the light bulb over my
head clicked on. Sliding my gaze over to Cynthia, I noticed that she was
staring rather innocently at the ceiling, while two pink spots appeared on
her cheeks.

"Uncle Lance?" I growled, resting my sister on my knee. "Cynthia...what
have you been telling Natalie???"

"Well.." Cynthia began, trying her best to look innocent. "I was *just*
kidding around...besides, it's cute...Uncle Lance..." As Cynthia smiled and
brushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes, a halo suddenly appeared over
her head. She had this amazing ability to make things seem so *innocent*.

"Okay, Cynthia," I began, rubbing my hands together as sly grin formed on
my lips. "So how are you and Uncle Josh doing?" The same saintly smile
remained on my cousin's pretty face.

"He's fine, thank you," Cynthia answered graciously, as her eyes turned
dreamy at the thought. "Just wonderful..."

"Hey, I like that idea--having two members of *NSYNC for uncles," Natalie
giggled, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Suddenly, another
thought came to her mind. "Speaking of JC...Stephen? I'm gonna head
downstairs and see him, okay? He promised me that he would play a song for
me on the piano..."

"Sure," I answered, smiling at the idea of Josh singing for Natalie. "I'll
see you downstairs in a little while, okay, Nat?" Giving me a quick nod, my
sister disappeared out of the room, and I heard her footsteps clatter down
the wooden steps. Looking over at Cynthia, I noticed how happy my cousin
looked. It's hard to explain, but Cynthia just looked so...content. At
peace. It was a rare sight. Something that I hadn't seen much before JC
Chasez entered her life.

"You okay?" I asked her softly, jolting her out of her quiet state of
mind. Meeting my gaze, I noticed the happy look that lingered in her violet
eyes. It was an odd look.

"Yeah." she smiled, standing up and walking over to where I sat. Flopping
down on the bed, Cynthia fell backwards onto the mattress and stared at the
ceiling for a few seconds, before turning her head to look at me.

"Stevie?" she asked, her voice quiet as her delicate features grew serious
with thought.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared..."

"What?!" I exclaimed, more than a little shocked by my cousin's words. What
the hell would Cynthia be scared for? "Why?"

"Because..." she began, pulling herself up, her short red hair sweeping
around her tanned face. "I'm so...happy. I've never been this happy in my
entire life..." I watched as a brief look of confusion passed through my
cousin's eyes. "Stephen..." Almost immediately, I realized that Cynthia was
serious--she used my full name. "Do you have any idea how happy Josh makes
me?"

She didn't let me answer and instead, cut me off. It had been a rhetorical
question, I guess. "I wake up in the mornings and smile, Stevie--" She was
back to using my nickname--and so quick-- "I smile like my face is about to
break into pieces. You remember that one night in Florida when I got stoned
off my ass?"

"Uh-huh."

"Stevie..." Cynthia sighed, her face more serious than I had ever seen in
my entire life. "Josh took such good care of me. He really did.." She took
a deep breath before continuing. "He took me home, wiped my face down and
held me all night, until I came down off of whatever I took." A small,
self-deprecating smile crossed her face. "I should have known better, huh?
I thought I was so cool--hanging out in some hip dance club, dating a
member of this...this..." She fought with herself for a couple of seconds,
trying to find the perfect word to fit her mood.

"Larger than life pop band?" I interjected, giving her an understanding
grin.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Oh come on Stevie--don't you know better than to
use the song of another pop band? Geez!" she teased me lightly, punching me
in the arm. "But yeah--you nailed it. *NSYNC are *huge* Stevie...and we're
both dating members of this band..." She shook her head in disbelief,
before looking at me once more, happiness shining in her eyes, clear as
day. "But do you realize something?"

"What?" I asked, trying to comprehend what my cousin was trying to get at.

"I'm in love, Stevie..." A grin as wide as...as wide as...well, I don't
know what I could compare Cynthia's grin to. It stretched from ear to ear
and lit up the entire room. "I love Josh...he told me that the other night
and I didn't even have to think about saying it back to him." I watched as
a tear slipped down her face, and how quickly she brushed it away with the
back of her hand, so that her emotions wouldn't show. "I'm scared Stevie,"
Cynthia whispered, bowing her head, embarrassed by how her true emotions
had finally broken through. "I just don't want to screw this one up..."

Cynthia and I sat in silence for a couple of seconds, the weight of her
hesitantly spoken words lingering in my ears. Everything she had just said,
could have been said for Lance and I. I *was* in love--and, when you dug
deep enough, I was scared as well. If you scraped past everything that had
happened in the last two months (and what a ride those two months had
been), Lance and I were two people who had found each other and fallen in
love. We had our naughty moments and our sappy moments and moments that
every couple went through. Lance had helped me through my mother's death
and I had helped him through telling his parents about his sexuality...

Lord...the amount of stuff Lance and I had gone through was
overwhelming...I shook my head briefly, trying to grasp the idea of what my
life had become. It was like some beautiful dream, occasionally marred by
nightmares that jolted us, reminding us that reality still existed, but in
the end, Lance and I were still together. Closer than ever and closer than
I had ever dreamed of. I had even gotten a tattoo on my back, signaling how
much I believed in our relationship...

I looked over at Cynthia and found that she was staring at me, a happy grin
on her face as the realization of our lives dawned on us.

"You okay, Stevie?" Cynthia asked, softly, resting her hand on my back. I
nodded and gave her a goofy, happy smile.

"I'm fine," I answered quietly, trying to digest the words that were
running through my head. Not paying attention to Cynthia, I didn't feel as
her hand slipped lazily down my back, her fingertips brushing over the
bandage that covered my tattoo. I'd be able to take it off tomorrow,
thankfully. The tape against my skin itched like crazy, but Lance had never
been too far away to give it a comforting scratch. The scratching always
led to a kiss...which led to something else...needless to say, the itching
didn't bother me *that* much.

"What's this," she asked suspiciously, looking backwards at the
gauze. "What happened here?" Realizing how close my cousin was to seeing my
inked skin, I jumped away from her touch, as though she had burned me.

"Um...Cynthia...why don't you go and see if Josh needs any help," I said
lamely, rising from my place on the bed, hoping that would divert her
attention. It didn't work, but instead, only made her more curious. I began
to make my way to the door, hoping to make my break. She only followed me,
her curiosity growing more and more with every step I took away from her.

"Needs help for what?" Cynthia asked, narrowing her eyes at
me. "Stevie--what *are* you hiding from me?" She took a few steps closer to
me, reaching out for my shirt.

"N-n-nothing," I stammered, not sure what to say. I continued to back away
from my nosy cousin, and into the door, slamming it shut in the process.

"Ouch!" A voice came from behind the door, which belonged to none other
than my very own boyfriend. "Geez, Stephen--do you have to go and slam the
door right in my face? If you didn't want me to come in you could have just
said so..." Lance whined as I opened the door up. He stood there in front
of me, holding his nose, while Josh stood behind him, trying not to laugh
at what I had done to Lance.

"Sorry," I apologized, reaching out to pull his hands off his face. There
was a small red spot on the tip of his nose, which I leaned over and
kissed. "Poor baby," I whispered as my lips brushed against his skin. A
small grin appeared on his lips as I said this, and he was about to say
something when I felt a pair of hands on my lower back.

"Come on, Stevie!" Cynthia exclaimed, hoisting my shirt upwards, determined
to see what I was hiding on lower back. "What are you hiding from me?" I
spun back around to face Cynthia and my arm flailed out, hitting Lance's
face with a loud smack. My hit caused him to fall backwards, knocking Josh
over in the process. Both of them went tumbling to the ground, while
Cynthia continued to chase me around the room, desperately needing to see
what I was hiding from her.

"Josh!" I yelled helplessly as Cynthia grabbed hold of my shirt. "Come and
get your girlfriend!"

"I can't!" I heard his muffled cry come from the hallway, while Lance was
still lying on top of him. Lance was trying his best to pull himself up,
but only resulted in looking like a turtle stuck on its back. "Your
boyfriend is on top of me and won't get off..."

"Lance get off of Josh!" I hollered as Cynthia managed to corner me, a
devilish grin on her lips. "You're not supposed to like him like that."

"Stevie," she said softly, inching towards me. "You *know* you can't hide
anything from me..." And just as she was about to lunge forward, Josh (who
had finally managed to get off the floor and out from under Lance) strode
over to his overexcited girlfriend and placed his hands around her slim
waist.

"Come on, Cynth--" Josh laughed gently as he pulled her towards him,
wrapping his arms around her. "Leave your poor cousin alone already...let
him have his secrets. After all, we have ours, don't we?" Smiling at me,
Josh gently placed a kiss on the top of her head, and she practically
melted in his arms.

"Oh alright," Cynthia sighed, rolling her eyes heavenwards as Josh began to
pull her out of the room. "I guess...if I have to..."

"I think you have to," Josh laughed softly, before speaking again. "Cause
if you don't, then..." With that, he tipped his head towards hers and
gently whispering something in her ear. Violet eyes lighting up, I watched
as Cynthia threw her head backwards, a gentle twinkle of laughter leaving
her throat as the two of them disappeared into Cynthia's bedroom, the
secret spot on my back now forgotten.

Once they were gone, Lance walked over to me, a look of mock distress on
his face. "Thanks Stephen," he sighed, his green eyes sparkling as he stood
in front of me. "Knocking me on my back....hitting me in the nose..." He
shook his head and wrapped his arms around me. "I'd almost say you didn't
like me?" Sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, Lance widened
his eyes at me.

I leaned over and gently bit his lower lip, at the same time pulling my
boyfriend in for a kiss. "Don't like you?" I laughed once we parted. I
rested my forehead against his and stared into his eyes, a peal of laughter
bubbling up from somewhere inside of me. "Geez, Lance--than what the heck
am I wasting my time on you for?"

A deep laugh escaped from Lance's mouth, as he wrapped his arms around my
waist and pulled me even closer to him. "Hmmm....I could say the same thing
about you, you know," Lance teased as he kissed my stubble covered
chin. "But I won't. Even though I just did."

"Thanks, Lance," I said dryly, kissing him again before turning
serious. The conversation that Cynthia and I had before suddenly came to
mind as I stared into Lance's hypnotically beautiful eyes. I wanted to say
so much, but I couldn't. Instead, I relied in the words I had used so many
times in the past: "I love you," I said softly, clasping his hands in my
own. "I want you to know that..."

If he was surprised by my sudden change of mood, Lance certainly didn't
show it. Instead, my boyfriend just gave me one of his smiles--one of the
ones that I had become so accustomed to..."I know, Stephen," he whispered,
as his eyes frantically roamed over every inch of my face. "I know..." And
with those words, Lance kissed me again, the previous mayhem forgotten as
Lance and I finally lost ourselves in the intimacy of the moment.




Later that afternoon, Lance and I headed downstairs to get something to
eat. I had showered and taken some aspirin and now, I felt one hundred
percent better than when I had woke up. Uncle George was off at the
University he taught at, teaching summer sociology courses, while Aunt
Florence sat in the kitchen and labored over one of her many handicraft
projects that she had seen on Martha Stewart Living. It was one of the
reasons I loved visiting Wisconsin--George and Florence were the perfect
television-esque couple. Florence puttered around the house, making sure
all of the doilies were in their proper place while obsessively spraying
Freesia scented air freshener around all the rooms. It was the flip side to
what I had been brought up in--a slightly frazzled household that was
always disorganized.

But what made me happy was that it was the perfect environment for Natalie
to grow up in. I knew that George and Florence cared deeply about their
niece, judged by the many pictures that they had tacked up on their walls
of both my sister and me through various stages of our lives.

As Lance and I walked down the staircase, he gently bumped my hip and
smiled at me. Another nice thing about Aunt Florence involved in one of her
many handicraft projects was the fact that she never checked in on me or
Cynthia. So when Lance and I got a little romantic after the fiasco...I
wasn't worried that Aunt Florence would barge in on us and faint of
shock. That was always a nice bonus.

Still floating on the good mood I was in, Lance and I walked into the
kitchen and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"Afternoon, boys," Aunt Florence greeted us as I began to rummage through
the meat compartment and pull out different deli meats. "Have what you'd
like, but you have to eat over the sink." She motioned to the kitchen table
in back of her and shrugged apologetically. "I saw this window treatment on
Martha today and I just had to try it out."

"It's okay," Lance said politely, as I shoved a loaf of bread in his
hands. "I don't mind."

"Neither do I," I said as I emerged from the refrigerator, arms full of
sandwich making supplies. "Where'd Cynth go?"

"Oh she's in the garage, making t-shirts for the concert tonight. I guess
David flaked out on doing them and now Cynth and Josh are in there making
them..." I saw a brief look of distress flash through my Aunt's eyes once
she mentioned the word, `concert'. I knew that neither her nor my Uncle
were too happy about Cynthia heading an all-male rock and roll band at some
seedy club downtown. I wasn't even sure if they liked Josh being her
boyfriend. I knew they had always wanted their little girl to get involved
with a nice, respectable young man...someone with a stable future and good
income. Yes, Josh had a *very* good income, but stable future? Pop star
wasn't in their list of respectable jobs...

I shook off those thoughts as Lance and I made sandwiches for ourselves and
proceeded to eat them over the sink, dropping crumbs off the bread as we
ate them. The two of us remained silent, enraptured by the sight of my aunt
and her curtain making frenzy. Just as Aunt Florence muttered something
under her breath, ("Stupid Martha...and her stupid projects...') the back
door flew open and in walked Cynthia and Josh, covered from head to toe in
silkscreen paint.

"Stevie," Cynthia grinned, walking over to me and pinching my cheek with
her paint covered fingers. She moved over to my boyfriend and did the same
thing to him, leaving a smudge of paint on our skin. "Lancey."

"And hello to you Cynthia," Lance deadpanned as he reached over and pulled
a piece of paper towel off the roll so that he could wipe the paint off his
face. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," Cynthia said, slyly looking at Josh from under her mascared
lashes. "I'm fine...and you two? Keeping your hands to yourselves?"

Both Lance and I flushed straight to the roots of our hair, turning an even
brighter red when Aunt Florence overheard her daughter, looked over from
her crafting project and gave the two of us a *look*. Clearing my throat, I
neatly dropped my sandwich down the drain and hit the button that ground it
down in the trash compactor in an attempt to cover up what my cousin had
just said. I hoped that would relieve some of my embarrassment.

"Yes," I answered as soon as I turned back around. "And how's the
silkscreening going?"

"Okay," Cynthia sighed, as she brushed a piece of hair off her cheek. "Mark
came over to help me out but..." he words trailed off momentarily while
Josh looked at the ceiling with an uneasy look on his face.  "He felt
uncomfortable. He didn't like Josh much..." She made a `tsk tsk' sound with
her tongue as she wrapped a reassuring arm around her boyfriend's waist.

As the four of us stood there, Uncle George walked into the kitchen,
setting his briefcase on the floor. He kissed his wife hello and then
turned around noticing that the four of us were standing there. His eyes
dropped to where Cynthia was tightly holding onto Josh's waist and a
restrained look of what I could only call disgust flashed across his face.

"Hey..." George said as he walked to the refrigerator and opened it up. He
was silent as the four of us said our `hello's' and I noticed Cynthia
loosen her grip from Josh's waist, a bit nervous at the sight of her
father. Not saying another word, Uncle George slammed the fridge door, soft
drink in hand as he walked away from us.

"What are we going to do with Cynthia???" The four of us heard Uncle George
mutter under his breath as he walked away from the refrigerator. "Goes off
on tour at the drop of a hat, shacks up with some strange boy in some pop
band and now her band thing..." I saw a worried look flash across Cynthia's
face at her father's annoyance. It even surprised me, since Uncle George
was so normally cool and calm, no matter what kind of wacky project my
cousin picked up.

Hearing her husband's words, I noticed Florence look up at his retreating
figure and bite her lip. She threw down the scissors in her hand and chased
after him, giving her daughter a brief, yet reassuring glance as she left
the kitchen.

"Oh crap," Cynthia said shortly after noticing her father's reaction. "I
*knew* he'd have something to say about this--he's never liked the band..."

"Cynth..." Josh whispered as he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Don't
worry about it sweetie..." And forgetting that Lance and I were still
standing there, Josh proceeded to wrap his girlfriend in his arms, nuzzling
her neck, while Cynthia giggled and murmured incoherently under her breath.

"Oh gross," Lance whispered, shoving the rest of his sandwich in his
mouth. "Let's get out of here..." Poking me in the side, Lance quickly
grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the kitchen, through the backdoor and
out onto the porch.

I had always liked the design of my Aunt and Uncle's Wisconsin house, but I
had never appreciated it more than at that exact moment. They had built
this secluded porch after they had purchased the house and then planted
tall, leafy trees around it. Neighbors couldn't peer inside it if they
wanted to which was good, since Lance took that moment to wrap me in his
arms. Reaching out, Lance gently touched my nose, before drifting lower to
trace around the outline of my mouth, before pressing his lips tenderly
against mine.

"Mmmmm," he murmured under his breath as his light green eyes lit up with
happiness. "That's *much* better..." I sighed as I felt his hand drop a
little lower, working its way under my shirt, until I felt his fingers
caressing the small of my back.

"Lance," I whispered, relaxing in the comfort of the moment before
returning his affection with a devilish smile. "What would happen if my
Aunt walked out here and saw us? Or Uncle George? What would they think?"

Grinning at the idea, Lance began to move his hand along the curve of my
spine, causing my shirt to rise as he did so. "Oh well," Lance laughed in a
singsong voice. "I guess their gonna get a free show then, won't they?"
Moving his face to mine once more, I barely felt his lips brush against my
own before a shrill voice cut through our closeness.

"Stephen?" Natalie's voice rang across the backyard as clear as a
bell. "Stephen? Where are you???" Breaking apart at the sound of her voice,
I tried my best to regain the composure I had lost, so that Natalie
wouldn't know what Lance and I had been up to.

"On the back porch, sweetie!" I called out as I straightened out my rumpled
shirt. I gave Lance a dejected smile, but he was determined not to see me
sad. Before I knew it, Lance suddenly reached out and pinched my ass nearly
causing me to jump through the roof of the porch.

`Later,' I mouthed at him, while rubbing the sore spot through my
pants. `I'll get you for that later.'

`Only if you promise,' Lance mouthed back to me, placing his hands behind
his back once Natalie came running onto the porch. My heart dropped
straight to the soles of my shoes once I saw her tear streaked face, the
playfulness between Lance and I quickly forgotten. The blonde hair that had
once been pulled back into a neat ponytail, was no more, as wispy strands
clung to the wetness on her face.

"Natalie!" I exclaimed, worry beginning to course throughout my body. I
knelt down to meet my sister so that I could look into her tear filled
eyes. My heart broke as she ran into my arms and I closed my arms around
her, holding her tight. Looking back up at Lance, I expected to find a look
of disinterest on his face. I was wrong. To my surprise, Lance looked just
as worried as I felt.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Lance asked as he knelt down besides me. The amount
of concern in his voice was overwhelming. "Are you okay, Nat? You hurt?
What's wrong?"

Natalie looked at the both of us, meeting each of our gazes as she
sniffled. Wiping the tears off her face with the back of her hand, Natalie
took a deep breath before finally speaking.

"Well..." she began slowly in the way that eleven years old draw things
out. "You don't know her..but I've been playing with this girl from down
the street. And we had a fight and she uninvited me to her birthday party
at the Funzone next month..." Looking down at her feet for a second,
Natalie looked embarrassed as she spoke the next words. "And *everyone* is
gonna be there...except me!" Having said that, Natalie began to wail once
more, burying her face in my shoulder as she did so.

My heart immediately broke into two, and as I looked over at Lance, I could
tell that his did the same. My poor sister was absolutely distraught. I had
never seen her look so miserable. Her body shook with tears and all I could
do was hold her while she cried.

"Oh, Natalie," I whispered as I stroked her hair, trying to calm her down a
little. "I'm sorry, sweetie...what did you two have a fight about?" Moving
closer to my sister, Lance gently began to rub Natalie's back, trying to
calm her down. Looking over my sister's shoulder, I gave my boyfriend a
small smile, touched by how involved he had become in Natalie's problem. He
didn't have to, and yet, here he was, worried about her as though she was
*his* sister.

"It was a stupid fight," Natalie wept into my shoulder, her words muffled
as she spoke. "We were having an argument over boy-bands and she said
Backstreet Boys were the best and I said I loved *NSYNC..." Looking up at
us with red-rimmed eyes, Natalie's sad face managed to form a small
grin. "And it's *not* because of you," she added pointedly, looking
directly at Lance.  "I just like your songs better...and Joey." She gave us
both a sheepish grin. "I really like Joey."

"Oh..." Lance laughed, taking my sister from my arms and into his. "That's
okay sweetie...I understand." While he looked at Natalie, I saw this *look*
come over his face as he held her close to his chest. Looking over her
shoulder, I watched as Lance tried to suppress a burst of laughter. I
frowned. Why the hell would he be laughing at a time like this? There
wasn't anything funny about Natalie's little crisis here, and I felt
terrible that she had been uninvited from this girl's party. Maybe he
hadn't understood as well as I thought he had...

"Hey Nat," Lance spoke up, pulling my sister away from him so that he could
look into her eyes. And suddenly the look on his face reminded me of one
that an excited eleven year old would have on his face. I blinked a couple
of times. It almost reminded me as though Lance had reverted back into
childhood. An exuberant grin formed on his lips, as he arched an eyebrow
knowingly at her. "I have an idea--want to hear it?"

"Sure," Natalie sighed, her voice melancholy. She looked at Lance with a
challenging look in her eyes, almost as though she were daring him to make
her feel better. I tried to hold a sigh of my own back. I just felt so bad
for her. My sister was normally so bubbly and bright. Even through our
mom's death, she had remained stronger than me.  And now for this stupid
girl to bring her down? It just made me angry. I switched my attention back
to Lance, where he was still staring at my sister with a smile on his face.

"How about..." Lance began slowly, lingering on each word, trying to draw
out the suspense. "Me and Stephen..."

"Yeah?" Natalie asked, the interest in her voice beginning to grow. "What?"

"How about if me and Stephen take you to this Funzone place tomorrow, huh?"
Lance asked, trying to keep his voice light. "I know it's not the same as
this girl's birthday party, but at least you'd get to go...what do you
think, Natalie?"

I couldn't help but smile at Lance's offer. Take Natalie out? Lord, he was
really putting his ass on the line, going to one of these places. There
could be a good chance that if kids saw him, he would be mobbed. And it was
all for my sister. It was at that minute, I fell even deeper in love with
Lance. He made me smile. He made Natalie smile and at that moment, I think
Lance Bass became her new favorite member of *NSYNC.

"Really?" Natalie asked, her voice filled with awe. "You and Stephen would
take me out tomorrow???" Lance looked up at me, silently questioning if I
would agree with his offer.

"Sure," I laughed as I took in Natalie's exuberant face. Any traces of her
old sadness were now forgotten as she began to jump up and down, clapping
her hands. "I would love to take you out tomorrow, Miss Peterson."

"Oh my God!" she squealed in the way that only eleven year old girls could
squeal and still sound cute. "Thank you both so much!!!!!" Natalie hugged
us, first throwing her arms around Lance's neck and then mine, before
running inside the house "Aunt Florence! Uncle George!!!" We heard Natalie
squeal. "Guess where Stephen and Uncle Lance are taking me tomorrow...."

"Uncle Lance?" Lance asked in surprise, arching an eyebrow at me in mock
suspicion. "What's *that* all about?"

"Oh that's Cynthia's doing," I chuckled as I rose from my kneeling
position. My knees were starting to cramp up from being that way for so
long--you would have think I'd have gotten used to being in that position
by now. "She thought it would be cute if you became Uncle Lance..."

"Hmmm," Lance said thoughtfully, as he stood up next to me. "Uncle
Lance...I like it. So is there an Uncle Josh too?"

"Yup...I guess so," I nodded. "Cynthia didn't have a problem with it...she
just smiled and looked as though she had floated off into ga-ga land..."

"Cynthia," Lance shook his head. "That girl sometimes...it just makes me
wonder..." His words trailed off and he just gave me a secretive smile.

"Wonder what?" I asked suspiciously. "Come on, Bass," I growled. "Spill
it."

"Nah," Lance laughed, shaking his head even harder as he began to walk
towards the kitchen door. "I don't think I will." I took my boyfriend by
surprise then, as I lunged for him, wrapping my arms around his waist and
tackled him, dragging him down to the floor. "Stephen!" he yelled as I
pinned him down, my fingers running up and down his sides in an attempt to
tickle him.

"Come on, `wonder what', Lance," I laughed as I continued to tickle my
boyfriend's sides. "You know I know your weaknesses..."

"Stephen!" Lance yelled, squirming underneath my weight. "Please stop
it...please...I'm gonna pee in my pants if you don't..." A somewhat
tortured look fell across his face as I refused to stop tickling him.

"Tough. That's the price you pay for keeping stuff from me," I taunted him
as I slid my hands up his shirt, tickling his bare sides. "Now...sometimes
you wonder what?"

"I wonder," Lance managed to gasp out. "I wonder why..." A couple of tears
caused by his laughter, slid down his cheek. "I wonder why the hell I'm in
love with you."

I stopped tickling him then, satisfied that I had gotten an answer out of
him. "Aww, I breathed, lowering my face to his. "That's so sweet..."

"Well, I *am* sweet," Lance shot back, smiling at me. "Not like some people
who use torture to get answers out of me...you're evil, you know that?"

"Yup," I laughed as I stared into the depths of Lance's eyes. "I
know. Learned from the best..." My words trailed off as I continued to gaze
into those green pools of Lance's soul and I felt my silliness being
reduced to mush inside. "Thank you," I said softly, placing a kiss on his
forehead as my mind reverted back to my sister. He had handled that problem
so wonderfully...

"For what?"

"For being you."





"Gloves?"

"Check."

"Old towels?"

"Check and check." Lance lifted up the two old towels that I had found in
back of Aunt Florence's neatly organized linen closet. A grin appeared on
his face as I read through the instructions on the back of the box of hair
dye. After our rendezvous on the porch, Lance and I had decided to take a
walk around town and wound up at this little drugstore on the
corner. Walking inside, Lance and I strolled up and down the aisles until
we wound up in front of boxes of hair dye. His green eyes fell on a box of
dark brown dye and lit up immediately. So we purchased it.. It had been
Lance's idea--dying his blonde spikes dark brown so that he wouldn't be as
noticeable at Cynthia's concert that night. He also had a pair of wire
rimmed glasses, filled with clear, non-prescription glass that he was
planning to wear as well. I smiled at how sneaky he was trying to be,
before looking back at the instructions in my hand.  I had never dyed my
hair before, but the guide, with its happy illustrations of smiling ladies
and clearly numbered steps, seemed easy enough to follow.

"Stephen, you shouldn't be so worried," Lance smiled as he plucked the
instructions from my hands, crumpled them into a ball and threw them in the
wastebasket in back of him. "I've dyed my hair thousands of times, you
know..."

"I know," I said dryly, as I ran my hands through my boyfriend's bleached
hair. "I'm surprised you're not bald yet...come on," I grinned. "Let's get
this over with, so we have enough time to hop over to the club later on."

"What time does this thing start?" Lance asked as he began to mix the
chemicals together. "And where are we going?"

"It's a place called the Madison Lounge--I've never been there, but
according to Cynthia, it's very hip and trendy." I raised my eyebrows as I
slipped on the thin plastic gloves that came with the hair dye kit. "I
guess a lot of great indie bands play there...Cynth's just thrilled that
she's gonna be standing on the same spot that members of the Jon Spencer
Blues Explosion once stood on..." I shook my head as Lance sat on the edge
of the bathtub and handed me the bottle of dye.

"Yeah, I guess..." Lance laughed as I walked over to him. I noticed a
confused look cross his face as I ran my hands through his dry hair. "Who's
Jon Spencer?"

"Jon Spencer Blues Explosion," I corrected him as I looked down at him. "I
have one of their t-shirts back home, but I ruined it with about a gallon
of gesso..." I sighed as I remembered my white spattered shirt, which
looked like Jackson Pollack had painted on it. "And speaking of
clothes...since we are heading out to a trendy rock club, you my dear, have
to dress the part."

"Dress the part?" Lance asked, puzzled by my words. "What's wrong with my
usual clothes? Aren't they nice enough?" Biting my lips to hold back a
laugh, I realized how different our backgrounds were.

"Sweetie," I smiled as I began to squirt the bottle of dye all over Lance's
hair. "That's the problem--their *too* nice. You wear some of those nice
designer clothes and I promise you, they'll be ruined in the first five
minutes...someone's gonna get a footprint on you, or spill beer. If you're
lucky, no one will puke on you." I saw his face go white at the idea. And
sadly I knew about the latter idea from experience. "It's safer to wear
some crappy t-shirt and shorts..."

"You sound like you've been around the block in these clubs before," Lance
deadpanned as I ran the dye through his short hair. I gently smacked him in
the back of his dye covered head, the sound of my gloves hitting the sticky
solution in his hair.

"Dirty boy," I murmured under my breath as I applied a generous amount of
the noxious smelling dye to his hair. "I want you to know I was so *good*
before I met you, Mr. Bass..." Lance guffawed as I placed the bottle on the
countertop of the formica sink, and I tried my damnest to keep the smile
off my face. "Well, I thought I was." Looking over my work, I smiled and
gave Lance's head one more light smack. "All done," I announced as I pulled
off my gloves.

"Thanks," Lance said as he stood up and looked at his reflection in the
mirror, grinning once he saw the way his hair was plastered to his
scalp. "Pretty cute, huh?"

"If you think so," I said in a standoffish manner, right before Lance
belted me in the stomach. "Thanks..." I gasped out, pretending to be
hurt. "Thanks, Lance..."

"No problem," he laughed. "So...where's some clothes I can wear for
tonight? I'd hate to look unfashionable..." Striking a pose in the middle
of the bathroom, Lance grinned at me. "What do you think? Model in the
making?"

"Sure, Lance," I sighed, as I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at
him. "Whatever." Grabbing the sleeve of his t-shirt, I began to lead Lance
out of the room and into the hallway. "Cynthia's room," I instructed him as
we reached her bedroom door. "She's got loads of shirts..."

"Cynth?" I called out, trying to knock louder than the thumping music that
was blaring from her stereo. "Can we come in, or are you and Josh doing
disgusting things in there?"

The door suddenly flew opened, and Cynthia's face peeked out from
inside. "Disgusting?" she asked, pursing her lips together, before they
relaxed into a smile. "I think not! And what do you two want? What's
wrong--you two kids finally wore each other out?"

"Cynth--the last thing I want to talk about is our sex lives," I bemoaned
as Lance and I barged into her room, pushing her to the side. "What we came
to you for is some clothes..."

"Clothes?" Cynthia asked in surprise, not getting what I was talking about.
She scratched her head as I made a beeline for one of her dressers and
began pulling out drawers, looking for some rock t-shirts. "Skirts?
Dresses? You two turning tonight into Stevie and Lancey's drag review?
Cute."

I looked up from my pursuit, only to give my cousin an evil grin. Folding
her arms across her chest, Cynthia gave me a knowing smirk as she took a
seat in her velvet covered chaise lounge.

"No," I shot back, trying not to laugh.  What Cynthia could come up with
sometimes... "I'm just trying to find some kind of shirt for Lance to wear
tonight--and--" I stopped in mid-sentence, noticing the teasing gleam that
was forming in Cynthia's eyes. "I am *not* dressing Lance...Lance can dress
himself. I am just merely helping out my boyfriend..."

She flopped backwards in her chair, covering her eyes with her forearm,
disappointed by the fact that I had finally, for once, beat her to the
punchline. "That's it," she announced, trying her best to look completely
and utterly dejected. "You've just ruined the moment for me, Stevie...good
job..."

"No problem," I laughed as I found the drawer of rock t-shirts, while Lance
walked over to me and smiled.  He began to gently run his fingers up and
down my arm, before ruffling through the drawer himself. His touch causing
my body to shiver slightly, although the room itself was warm and stuffy.
I stood there and watched Lance, realizing that every single time he
touched my, my mind would turn to mush.

"What about this one?" Lance interrupted my thoughts as he suddenly plucked
a crushed beyond belief t-shirt out of the drawer, causing a couple of
other shirts to tumble onto the floor as well. "What's is the hokey pokey
and what's it all about?" A smile crossed his lips as he read the saying
out loud. "Cute. I like. Can I wear?"

The two of us looked over at Cynthia who just shrugged her
shoulders. "Sure," she said simply as she rose from her chair and stopped
the CD that was spinning around in the stereo. "I Don't care. Keep it. I
haven't worn it in years...in fact..." she trailed off as she walked over
to her closet. "Wanna see what I'm wearing tonight?"

"Not really," I began to say, but it was too late. Cynthia had already
yanked the closet door open and pulled out the outfit she was going to make
her club debut in.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked proudly as she held up the Pucci
printed miniskirt and one of her own printed black tank tops that read, `I
Hate Boy Bands.' "Cute, huh?"

I looked over at Lance, just to see what his reaction was. I found that he
was having a hard time not wanting to laugh. "Um, Cynth..." he began,
shuffling his feet since he had nothing better to do. "Isn't that kind of
hypocritical? You *are* dating Josh...and if I'm not mistaken, isn't he in
a boy-band? With me?"

"Yeah," Cynthia replied, looking at us defiantly. "I know...but I still
don't like your music..." A fetching smile appeared on her face as Josh
entered her mind. "But I love him...." Her words trailed off and I could
tell that the mere thought of her boyfriend turned Cynthia's brain into
goo. She snapped out of her daydream once she noticed that Lance and I were
looking at her strangely and her eyes then focused on Lance's wet hair.

"Ooh, Lancey," Cynthia said, touching the sticky dye with her
fingertips. "Finally getting your cuffs and collar to match, huh?"

"Cuffs and collar?" Lance asked, looking confused. "What *are* you talking
about, Cynthia? Have you finally flipped?" A smirk appeared on her face as
she crossed her arms over her chest and looked directly at Lance's crotch,
before shifting her eyes back up to his scalp.

"Yeah," Cynthia giggled, placing a hand over her mouth. "Cuffs and collar."
A pale pink blush spread across my boyfriend's face at Cynthia's keen
observation, and all he could do was roll his eyes.

"Cute, Cynth," Lance sighed. "Very observant. You should become a private
detective some day..." Waving the shirt in his hands, a shy smile appeared
on his face once more. "Thanks again for the shirt, Cynth...and now if you
excuse me, I have to go wash this crap out of my hair. Stephen? Want to
help?"

"Yeah," I agreed, and before Cynthia could make another crude remark, Lance
and I hightailed it out of her room, shutting the door behind us.

"Your cousin..." Lance sighed as we walked back to the bathroom, shaking
his head. "She's impossible sometimes...but cute, I guess." He looked up at
me as we walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind us. "But I do
know one thing."

"What?" I asked, as I watched Lance carefully pull off his black t-shirt
and throw it on the floor. I continued to watch my boyfriend as he turned
on the shower, adjusting the hot and cold knobs until the water was the
perfect temperature.

"Well," Lance began as he turned back to face me. "She makes Josh
incredibly happy..." A bright smile appeared on his lips as he unbuttoned
his shorts and stepped out of them. "You know...the same way you make me
happy. We were talking this morning about you two--"

"No wonder my ears were burning," I teased him as I took a seat on the
closed toilet. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Go on."

"Oh there's nothing more to say," Lance smiled as he pulled the shower
curtain back. "Just that you two make us incredibly happy. You know,
Natalie winning those concert tickets was the best thing that happened to
both of us..." Leaning over towards me, Lance met my lips in a gentle kiss,
punctuating the thoughts he had just spoken.  As he kissed me, I felt his
eyelashes flutter against my cheeks, while one of his hands ran wildly
through my hair.

"Now," Lance whispered as we broke apart. "You think you're up to help me
wash this stuff out of my hair?" A playful look came into his eyes as Lance
hooked his thumbs over the waistband of his boxers, pulled them down and
kicked them away Stepping into the hot shower, he gave me a look of intense
longing "Whenever you're ready, Stephen...." Lance whispered suggestively
as he locked his gaze with mine, right before pulling the shower curtain
closed. Blood rushed through my veins as I watched the outline of his body
through the semi-opaque shower curtain and I began to disrobe quicker that
I had ever done in my entire life. I nearly ripped my shirt off in my haste
as his words lingered through my mind. Help him wash the stuff out of his
hair?

`Well', I thought as I yanked the shower curtain open and saw Lance
standing there, a huge grin on his face as he watched me enter the narrow
space with him. `Wild horses couldn't have kept me away....'

"Thought you'd never make it," Lance whispered, running his soapy hands
down my chest, before pushing me against the wet tiles of the shower. And
as he kissed me again, that was the last thing either of us spoke....





Effervescent Popsicle's first ever club gig had been a huge success. Most
of the people who had showed up were people that she and the other guys in
the band had gone to school with, but hey, who cared? All that mattered was
that the Madison Lounge was packed, a steady stream of people waiting in
line to buy one of Cynthia's homemade t-shirts.

It was at that moment, I realized that the whole night was going to be
about Cynthia.  Sure there were three other guys in the band, and they were
important, but it was Cynthia who carried the entire show. It was her spark
that brought everything to life and at that moment, I felt like a proud
father.

When she walked out onto that stage, I'll admit, she took my breath
away--and she was my cousin, for God's sake. She was wearing the tank top
and skirt that she had showed Lance and I earlier, plus a pair of black,
patent leather knee high boots, but at that moment, in that scenario,
Cynthia just looked stunning. The multicolored lights that shone above the
stage seemed to make Cynthia *glow* and standing in that crowd of
already-drunk college students, Lance and I looked at each other, awed by
how Cynthia just commanded everyone's attention by just standing there.

She also managed to surprise me. I knew that she had a good voice, but that
night...she just...well...I think she could have gotten a record contract,
if the right people were there. I was shocked.

"Lance," I shouted over the screaming crowd, nudging my now brown haired
boyfriend in the shoulder. Looking over at me, it took my eyes a few
seconds to get used to the dark haired Lance wearing the glasses. He looked
different --a little smarter and sexier--and to be honest with you, I liked
it a lot.

"Yeah?" he yelled back, not taking his eyes off my cousin as she flew
around the stage.

"What do you think of Cynthia?"

"She's amazing!" Lance broke his gaze from the stage to give me a lopsided
grin. "She's a lot better than I thought she'd be..."  And with that, Lance
shifted his gaze back to the stage where Effervescent Popsicle continued to
play on...

About an hour and half into their set, I noticed a slight lull and watched
as Cynthia guzzled water out of the sports bottle that sat next to
her. Wiping off her forehead, she peered out into the audience, shielding
her eyes from the harsh stage lights. I think she was looking for Josh, who
by this time had drifted away from us, thanks to the crowd surfers who had
floated over our heads more than a couple of times. I watched as her eyes
drifted over the crowd, and then lit up suddenly as they fell on
someone. She must have found him.

Cynthia spun around backwards, and began to talk quietly with the drummer,
Keith, and they laughed. Cynthia walked back to her microphone and adjusted
it, causing a huge screech of feedback to echo throughout the
club. Everyone placed their hands over their ears and shrieked at the
unpleasant noise.

"Sorry about that folks," Cynthia apologized as she adjusted the strap of
her bass around her neck. "Well it's been great...but...you know how all
good things have to come to an end.."

The crowd began to boo at her announcement. Smiling at their disappointed
reaction, Cynthia held up her hands, trying to shush the crowd.

"Yeah, life sucks, but there's gonna be one more song." I watched as she
took a deep breath and flipped her sopping wet hair away from her eyes. "A
lot of you already know that I spent the past few months on tour..." she
began, semi-embarrassed at the words she was speaking. "....with *NSYNC..."
The crowd surrounding us began to laugh and I watched as Lance buried his
face in his hands. Reaching out, I gently patted him on the shoulder and he
looked back up and gave me a smile.

"But," Cynthia continued, a grin appearing on her face. "I had a good time,
I got on the cover of a few national tabloids and I got a new boyfriend out
of it--bet you're sorry now, huh, Mike?" she yelled spitefully, bringing up
her ex-boyfriend's name.

Suddenly someone in the crowd shouted out: "How Lance in bed? I heard he
likes the boys?!"

Next to me, I felt my boyfriend's body freeze as a look of disbelief and
shock came over his face, the color slowly draining out of it. He liked the
boys? What? You mean people *knew* about Lance being gay? And what the hell
would Cynthia say to that? Anything was liable to come out of that girl's
mouth.

"Nah," Cynthia screamed back to the heckler, running her pick of the
strings of the bass. "Actually I'm bonking JC," she giggled, throwing her
head back upon hearing the crowds uproarious laughter. "And Lance...let me
tell you, that boy loves the ladies! Couldn't keep him off of them..." she
lied, not looking the least bit uncomfortable at the words that left her
mouth. I felt Lance relax a little, as he turned to give me another smile,
this one filled with relief. Good old Cynthia, I thought, my face hurting
from the smile stretched out on my face. She knew what to say in
public. And with that, my cousin gave the crowd one last charming smile,
before looking over at Keith and giving him a nod.

"Anyways..." Cynthia shouted. "I thought we'd do one last song before we
close. Josh..this one's for you...1-2-3-4!" And before I knew it, the band
had launched into a raucous cover version of "Bye Bye Bye" causing the
crowd to scream in delight.

I looked over at Lance once more, the discomfort on his face gone as he
began to laugh. `It was perfect', I thought as I watched Cynthia rock out
on stage. `Just perfect.'




"Cynthia, you kicked ass," Lance remarked as Cynthia ordered another round
of drinks for the four of us. After the concert had ended, the four of us
decided to do a little post concert celebrating at the local bar she
frequented while she attended classes at the University.

"I did, didn't I?" she giggled as a waitress brought over a tray of
drinks. "I just kicked ass..." Looking over at Josh, Cynthia giggled once
more, not able to curb her excitement for even a few seconds. But she
deserved to be this happy. My cousin *was* good at playing and singing and
she certainly did have the looks and the voice for being a rock star. When
I expressed these thoughts to her, Cynthia just looked at me over the edge
of her fourth strawberry daiquiri and smirked.

"Oh Stevie..I'm not planning to be like these guys," she said, a air of
distaste in her voice as she jerked her thumbs at Lance and Josh. "If
anything, I want the whole indie rock lifestyle--sleeping on other people's
floors, traveling in a van from town to town and playing little clubs."
Cynthia's violet eyes gleamed as she spoke, while I noticed a look of alarm
form in Josh's. I don't think Cynthia's romanticized vision of indie rock
life was what he wanted to exactly hear at that moment.

"Oh Cynth..." Josh groaned, his words slightly slurred from the beers he
had just consumed. "Don't be silly...I don't want to think of my girl in
any sort of danger like that..."

"Really?" she asked, snuggling closer to him in the booth. I could tell by
the brief look on her face, that Josh's answer didn't please her. She
didn't want to be controlled and told what to do, but she didn't want to
start fighting with him either. At least not right then. The night had been
too good to fight. "You're so sweet--but we'll see what all this leads me
to..." Touching his cheek, Cynthia gave him a comforting smile and I could
tell she was itching to change the subject.

"Alright," Josh sighed, wrapping an arm around Cynthia. "Anyways, you were
a knockout on stage...if I wasn't in love with you, I certainly would be by
the end of the night..."

"Josh, you're so sweet," Cynthia cooed, repeating her words once more,
before looking at Lance and I. Giving my cousin a look of mock disgust, I
stuck my finger down my throat and pretended to gag.

"Knock it off, Stevie," Cynthia laughed, taking another sip of her
drink. "You're just jealous of us..." Sticking my tongue out at her,
everyone laughed at my childish response and then for a rare moment,
silence fell across the table. Taking that opportunity, I felt as Lance
slid his hand underneath the table across the seat of the pleather booth,
as he took my hand in his and gently squeezed it.  I looked at Lance and
gave him a smile, enjoying the fact that Lance and I didn't need to be
public with our intimacy, like Cynthia and Josh. But, I thought, if Lance
wasn't in such a high-profile pop band and perhaps if homosexuality weren't
such a hot button topic, maybe Lance and I would be as lovey-dovey as those
two kids--maybe even worse. Who knew?

"Hey Lancey?" Cynthia's sly, somewhat garbled voice cut into my thoughts
and I suddenly jerked my hand away from Lance's, the cause of a nervous
reaction on my part. I watched as Lance restrained himself from giving
Cynthia a look of disgust.

"Yeah?" he asked as his fingers began to creep towards mine once
more. "What?" She eyed him as though she were a tiger eying prey and I
suddenly realized just how drunk Cynthia was then. Her violet eyes were
spinning around in her head as she sipped the last of the frothy pink
liquid through the curvy straw. Still holding Lance's attention, she
quickly fed Josh the strawberry from the drink and then turned back to
Lance, a devilish smirk on her lips.

"Wanna show everyone how you match?"

Lance's hand stopped moving towards mine, as Cynthia's question managed to
stump him. "Huh? Match? You're drunk, Cynthia..."

"No I'm not," she said stubbornly, leaning towards Lance and pulling
herself out of Josh's arms. "I just wanna see how you match..." Cynthia
dropped her gaze below Lance's waist and a deep fiery blush suddenly
appeared on his pale cheeks. She rested her chin on the palm of her hand
and gazed at him, waiting for his answer.

"Cynthia," Lance repeated, his words much firmer this time. "You're
drunk--and besides, there's no way I'm dropping my pants just for you in
the middle of a bar..."

"Oh come on," Cynthia purred, as she crawled into my boyfriend's
lap. Giving him a seductive smile, she gently traced a fingertip over his
eyebrows before looking into his eyes once more. "I *know* I'm not Stevie,
but you could close your eyes and pretend. And besides, I've seen you
naked. Trust me, you have *nothing* to be ashamed of..." She laughed at the
dark blush that creeped up his neck. "In fact, I'm positive you could make
some money off of *that* thing..."

I looked over at Josh, who was watching his very drunk girlfriend with a
confused look on his face. She was hitting on another guy--my boyfriend and
one of his best friends--right in front of his own eyes. "Cynthia.." he
began as he reached over and gently tugged on the hem of her tank
top. "Come back here...my arms are cold..." Giving her a look of longing,
Josh motioned with his arms, signifying how empty they were.

"So get a sweater," Cynthia snapped as she wrapped one of her legs around
Lance, before turning her full attention back to him. "Did I ever tell you
how much I like brown haired boys?" Cynthia batted her eyelashes
seductively at him while she continued to sweet talk him...

"Uh...Cynthia.." Lance began, uncertainly, as he gave me a panicked look
that clearly read, `Help me. Help me now'. "Um...Josh is right over
there. He's got brown hair and besides...you know that I don't like
girls..."

"So?" Cynthia giggled, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "Just shut up and
drop `em already." And suddenly, with a determined look in his sapphire
eyes, Josh stood up then, reaching out for his girlfriend and pulled her
body back to his.

"Cynthia," Josh spoke slowly, his words tinged with amusement as his hands
fell to his silver belt buckle. A mischievous look spread across his lips
as he spoke the next words. "Maybe Lance won't show you how well he
matches, but I will..." And before I even knew what was happening, Josh had
undone his belt buckle and dropped his pants right there in the middle of
the bar.

"Oh my Lord," I heard Lance gasp, as I burst out laughing. I couldn't
believe that Josh, of all people--the most sensible one of all of us in
this crazy whirlwind of the past two months--had just dropped his pants in
public. The look of shock and wonder that had appeared on Cynthia's face
was absolutely priceless. She just stared at her fully exposed boyfriend,
opened mouthed as the *NSYNC-er stood there, patiently waiting for her
answer. He was just standing there...swinging...in the bar's air
conditioned breeze...

(I will say this: Cynthia is a *lucky* girl. Almost as lucky as I am with
Lance.)

"So do you like how *I* match?" Josh finally asked as Cynthia sat there,
frozen in her spot, while the other female patrons in the bar began to
whistle and clap at Josh's flashing. Lance could only bury his face in his
hands and I heard him mutter something like, "Why is this so *wrong*..."
While I just sat back, completely enjoying the scene JC Chasez was causing
in the restaurant. I mean, I did love Lance, but looking at Josh wasn't
such a bad thing either.

"Betcha ten bucks, he won't remember a thing that happened tomorrow
morning," I laughed as Lance continued to mutter nervously under his
breath.

"Joshy..." Cynthia spoke, still wide-eyed in amazement. "Pull your pants
back up!"

"You didn't answer my question," Josh said, holding onto the wall so that
he could stand up. "Do you like how I match?"

Looking at the top of Josh's head and then back down to his nudity, Cynthia
quickly nodded her head in approval. "Um...yeah...now will you pull your
pants back up?" Smiling, he finally complied with her request, pulling his
pants back over his hips, rebuckling his belt and taking a seat next to his
girlfriend. Judging from the aroused look on Cynthia's face, Josh had
definitely won his girlfriend back.

"Oh my Lord," I laughed uncontrollably as Lance gingerly raised his head
from the table. "That was *nice*."

"Thank you," Josh accepted graciously, before taking another sip from the
beer sitting in front of him.

"Is it over?" Lance asked meekly, still covering his eyes with his
hands. "Can I look?"

"Oh please, Lancey," Cynthia scoffed, as she fell snugly into the waiting
arms of her boyfriend once more. "Like you don't like to look..."

"Maybe at other guys," Lance muttered, as he finally removed his hands from
his eyes. "But at Josh? It's like seeing your brother naked..." I saw him
shudder at the thought before taking one last sip of his beer.  And then he
looked over at me, a smile lighting up his face as he scooted closer
towards me in the booth.

"Sleepy?" he asked, a teasing smile forming on his lips as he gave me a
loud, exaggerated grin. "I know I am.."

"Oh you just want to get me into bed," I remarked lightly as I polished off
my last beer for the night. "But yeah..I am getting a little tired. It's--"
I looked at my wristwatch. "Four a.m. already and we promised to take Nat
to that game place tomorrow."

"Yeah," Lance smiled as he gently brushed his fingers over my thigh. I
closed my eyes briefly at his touch and suddenly, I *really* wanted to get
out of that place. "We should get going..." And with that, Lance and I
stood up from our spots in the booth and said good night to Cynthia and
Josh, who were already involved in one of their marathon make out sessions
and barley noticed (or cared) that Lance and I were leaving.

"Cute kids," Lance remarked dryly as we walked over to my Uncle's car,
which I had borrowed for the night. As I unlocked the door, Lance stuck his
hands in the pockets of his pants and watched me. "I'm sure their gonna be
happy spending their days in rehab together. Or a nymphomanic's support
group." He added as an afterthought as he got into the car.

"You should talk," I joked, as I slid into the drivers seat and slammed the
door. I looked over at Lance and smiled. "Not that I'm complaining or
anything..."

"Good point--we'll probably be in there with `em," Lance cracked, before
falling silent once more. And then, as though the idea popped into his
mind, Lance suddenly leaned over, cupped my face in his hands and
passionately kissed me.

"See what I mean?" Lance asked pointedly once we parted.  He stared deeply
into my eyes as I attempted to catch my breath. I couldn't tear my gaze
away from his...

"Yup," I replied, before leaning in for another lustful kiss. It was the
perfect way to end the night.



Part 2 coming sooner than you think! Feedback:
sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

Thanks for reading! Gabriella