Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2000 00:43:22 -0500 From: Dara Lynn Subject: Boy bands/ Any Path/ Chosen Road, chapter 3 Hey all! Me again, and here's chapter 3. A reminder - it's an 'Nsync chapter. :) Once again, I wanna thank all my readers who are soooo damn kewl, including my amazing sounding board Aphrodite, my archiver Dennis, NCFan, Rick, Ray, RJ, Jim, Red, Coll (axes aside, she's killing me with kindness), Eric, Aimee, Sophie, Marc, Wen and Stacia. Jrok - we have not yet begun to fight. :) Also, something important I've been forgetting. I'd like to offer additonal thanks to the Chia Cow sitting on my desk for getting this story started. :) Okay, mind if I plug some kick-ass stories? I know i'll forget some, but for now: "A Tale of Two Boybands", "Nsync: Lance n JC", "A Love Like This", "Porcelain", "A Little Bit of Love", "Desperate Measures", "Calming Waters", "Finding A Belief", "Eternally Yours", "Eavesdropping", "Chances Are"", "Little White Lies", "Tearin Up My Ass", "Dreams and Nightmares" (which includes the "Angel" story that I've been helping with), "Playing for Keeps", "By My Side", "Decisions", "Devotion", "Tears In Your Eyes", "Love Interest", "Chatting Up Love" (where I'm a doctor!), "Ghostly Hours", "Superman Can't Fly", "Josh and Just", "Wishes of the Heart" and "In Synchronicity". Whew. :) DISCLAIMER: Oh, poo. I-hay on't-day own-hay anyone-hay in-hay is-thay ory-stay. It's-hay all-hay iction-fay. Okay? :) Yes, you can read the story now. :) ~CHOSEN ROAD~ Chapter Three "There are only four questions of value in this life...What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for? And what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same : only love." - 'Don Juan DeMarco' A short red-haired girl met Joey and Lance at the door. Pushing her glasses up, she warmly ushered them into the apartment. Lance stood back shyly, but Joey grabbed her into a hug, which she returned. "Rhi! God, I missed you!" The young woman rolled her eyes, but seemed pleased. "Yeah, Fatone. I'm sure you were always thinking about me while making all those girls scream. Why they make such a big deal outta *you* is beyond me. Guess they've never been around you after you've eaten Mexican food." Joey playfully pushed her, and she giggled, shoving him back. Her eyes fell on Lance, and she smiled gently as she shook his hand. "Hi, Lance. I'm Rhiannon. It's so nice to finally meet you. Don't let the witchy gear throw you off - I'm a big fan." The blond nineteen-year-old visibly relaxed. "Thank you. Believe me, the pleasure's mine. Joey's been talking about you non-stop." "Told ya about the cauldron, did he?" Still laughing, she led them to the far side of the living room. From on top of the fireplace (which contained a cauldron), she took a decorated basket and began to fish through it. Lance used this opportunity to glance around, taking in the interesting objects that colored the room. There were many works of art that his sharp eyes identified as Celtic in style, and all sorts of figurines, candles and charms that gave the room a magickal feel. Though it was all quite a contrast to the symbols of faith Lance had grown up with, it was nice. One painting in particular caught his attention, and he moved closer to study it. In the picture, a beautiful blond woman and a male warrior were gazing at eachother longingly as they were drawn apart. Another man, one who didn't look to be human, seemed to be creating some sort of mist between the departing lovers. Rhiannon smiled at Lance's interest, and wandered over to explain. "It's the story of Fand and Cuchulain. Fand was a faery queen, Cuchulain a Celtic hero. Despite how different the two were, they fell in love." She tapped the creature separating the couple. "The sea god Manann sensed a discordance between the world of mortals and faeries, so he drew his cloak between the lovers, erasing their memory of eachother." "That's so sad," Lance murmured, frowning. "Some say that when this happened, faeries and humans lost knowledge of one another. Ever since our two worlds have been divided by doubt and fear. Only now are we rediscovering what we once had." Lance seemed uncertain. "Faeries?" She smiled. "You doubt the existence of astral beings? *You*, who see what others do not?" Lance's eyes widened, and glared accusingly at Joey. "Joey didn't tell me. I don't have your gift, but I recognize it. It's okay. Your secret is safe with me." Rhiannon placed a small box in Joey's hand. Opened, it revealed an unshaped chunk of clear pink stone. To Lance's eyes it seemed to shimmer with an unearthly glow. "Ooh, pretty. What is it?" asked Joey. "Rose quartz, the 'Love Stone'. It promotes happiness within relationships, improves the ability to give and receive love. It helps to heal the heart, and strengthen it." Lance peered closer. "What's that white light around it?" Rhiannon grinned. "I thought you might be able to see that. The stone is charged - infused with magick. In this case, healing magick. Whatever's going on with Justin, it should help. Have him keep it in his bedroom, okay?" Joey kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Rhi. You're the best." "I know." She spontaneously hugged Lance. "You guys take care of eachother, you hear? All of you." Joey laughed. "We always do! Wish we could stay longer, Rhi, but management's gonna go ballistic if we're missing for much longer. I'll call you, 'kay?" "You better! And it was nice seeing you guys. Stay 'Nsync, or something." Laughing, the two singers made their way to the elevator. As they descended, Joey observed Rhiannon's gift. "See, Poo-Fu? That didn't take so long, did it?" "Joey, you *did* tell Johnny where we were going, right? Joey?" "Um, I forgot?" Lance covered his eyes with one hand. "I should have known. We're never allowed to go *anywhere* without security anymore. Oh, Randy's gonna kill me..." Joey shrugged optimistically. "It's all a panic measure, Scoop. The...what happened to Justin was a fluke, a one-in-a-million shot. We're okay." Lance's voice grew sharp. "That doesn't mean we shouldn't take precautions, Joe! Not being careful enough is what started this whole mess. And you wouldn't be so confident if *you* had been held at gunpoint, or grabbed into a room and groped." Joey immediately remembered his friend's brushes with both Timothy Korman and Jared Hawke, and realized his mistake. "Oh shit, Lance, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -" "It's okay, Joe. I understand." Joey tentatively put his arms around Lance, his face brushing the blond spikes. "I'm an insensitive asshole, I know." "No, you're not. We're all still dealing with what happened, and we do it in our own ways. Your way is to think positively. That's not a bad thing." Joey smiled with relief. "Hey, um, I'll call management as soon as we get back to the hotel, okay? I'll tell them that I dragged ya up here, and your reputation as 'the Reponsible One' will not be shaken." Lance laughed, and Joey's grin widened. "It's cool. We just can't miss our flight in the morning. So, no partying tonight." "Actually, I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together alone. Male bonding and stuff, ya know?" "Yeah, sounds fun." Joey nodded with satisfaction. "So, you like Rhiannon?" he asked as they got into a cab. "Yeah, she's really nice. Did you guys, like, date?" Joey chuckled. "I asked her out once a few years ago. She gave me this gorgeous smile, then shot me down. Why, you *like* her?" Lance sighed. "Um, Joe, there's something I need to tell you." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ~Personal Journal of Justin R. Timberlake entry~ Dear Diary, Me again. I was just reading through some earlier entries, and now I can't believe that I actually managed to block out the rape. It's like...I remembered it, but if I tried I could make myself think that it was just a dream, or something that happened to someone else. Weird, I know. The doc says that difficulties in telling real from imagined aren't uncommon during and after a fugue state or period of autism. Autism. funny word, isn't it? That's what they're calling the withdrawl I sank into to get away from him. A condition in which the person in question lives in their own world, unable to interact with or relate to other people. Dr. Gorman says, when I'm ready, he wants me to think about talking to a colleague of his who's doing a study on trauma-induced withdrawl. I'm confused. One minute I feel okay, like I've put all the fear and memory behind me. The next I feel terrified, and I don't even know why. He's gone, he's dead. Except in my nightmares, where I can still see him smiling at me... I can't write any more right now. - Justin ------------------------------------------------------------------------ J.C. took Justin's hands and squeezed them as the two sat facing eachother on J.C.'s bed. "Talk to me, hon," he requested, gently brushing back the smooth blond curls. Justin smiled shyly. "What do you want me to say?" "Anything. I love the sound of your voice." "I know there's stuff you wanna ask me, Josh. You can. I'll answer." J.C.'s face tensed up. "I don't wanna upset you." "The doc says talking helps bring bad feelings to the surface. It's like drawing a splinter. It *does* hurt, but it has to come out. Ask, Josh. I'm not so scared when I'm with *you*." J.C. gently caressed his boyfriend's petal-soft cheek. "How much do you remember about when you were withdrawn?" "A lot actually, I think." Justin smiled. "I remember Daddy talking about that talent show I did when I was eight, and Joey trying to make me laugh, and Chris...did Chris put on a puppet show using decorated socks, or is it me?" J.C. laughed. "Yep, he really did. We'll get him to do it again sometime. It actually was pretty funny." "I remember Mom sitting with me, listening to her talk, smelling her perfume. She knows I love that scent." J.C. nodded. "Yeah. That's why Lynn wore so much of it. She put it on every day." "Mostly I remember you. You were there almost the whole time, weren't you?" The older man smiled sheepishly. "I only left to shower and use the bathroom, and when someone else wanted to see you alone." Justin's gaze shifted focus for a moment as he thought back. Yes, he had trouble recalling many moments when J.C. hadn't been there. He had helped to feed, bathe and dress Justin, he had talked to him for hours and hours on end, he had kept the silent boy's hand in his whenever the doctors came to do tests. J.C. had rocked Justin patiently to sleep every night, whispering words of love and singing songs that he knew put his soulmate at ease. Justin looked at him with sudden wonder. "You...you would never have given up on me, would you?" "Of course not, angel. If you hadn't come back, I would have spent the rest of this life and all others trying to get to wherever you were." Justin felt hot tears beginning to fill his eyes. "Just, what's wrong?" "Josh, doesn't it bother you how one-sided this relationship is? Hasn't it ever?" "What do you mean?" "I mean that ever since we met you've taken care of and protected me. You gave me your heart even when I couldn't give you mine. And what have I done, what do I do, for *you*? Nothing." J.C. cupped Justin's face with his hands, forcing the teenager to look at him. "Nothing? Baby...I wish you could know what goes on in my heart every time I look at you, so you'd understand. Just, I'm *never* happier than when I'm with you...not even music, which I for so long thought was my whole life, does to me what you do. You make my world so beautiful, Justin, and God, you don't even seem to realize you're doing it..." J.C. was beginning to cry now, overwhelmed by how deeply he felt. Justin snuggled into J.C.'s arms as the older man leaned back against the bed's headboard. The way they clung to eachother was not desperate or lustful, it was not even really sexual. It was a position they'd assumed many times, one in which they both had that incomparable feeling one has when one is where one belongs. "Josh, any world *you're* in is beautiful. Have you ever thought maybe it's *you* that makes it that way?" J.C. held him tighter. "Maybe it's us together." "Josh?" Justin shifted until their faces were close. "Just?" "Kiss me." "Are you sure, baby?" In response, Justin leaned closer and pressed his lips to J.C.'s. The older man moaned with pleasure as his boyfriend's mouth opened and their tongues began to explore eachother. The two gave themselves over to the deep yet gentle kiss, the second one they'd ever shared. After a few minutes Justin, feeling somewhat dizzy, pulled back and rested his head against J.C.'s chest. J.C. slowly caressed the blond's back, knowing how tired his angel was. "What do you wanna do now, Josh?" "I wanna hold you like this while we go to sleep. I want to feel you breathing as I dream." Justin nuzzled his face into J.C.'s shoulder as sleep began to overtake him. "I love you, Josh." "Oh, Justin, my angel, I love you too." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "This is one seriously fucked-up movie, Scoop." "Yeah, that's what J.C. said." The whodunit comedy 'Clue' was playing, one of Lance's favorite movies, and Joey, though enjoying it, was trying hard to pay full attention. Not an easy thing when his thoughts were louder than the TV's volume. //Lance is *gay*, oh my God, he's gay, I have a chance now, I could really have a chance with him...// The twenty-one-year-old's logic battled this notion. //Just because he's gay doesn't mean he would want to be with *you*. Don't get your hopes up, he's your *friend*! And you know Lance. It would kill him if he had to break your heart...// "Lance?" "Yeah?" "Um...never mind." Lance switched off the TV and climbed up on Joey's bed to sit beside his friend. "Tell me, Joe. You need to talk?" "Actually, I thought maybe *you* would." The strange green eyes avoided Joey's. "I'm fine. I knew you wouldn't freak out when I told you. Guess I'm still getting used to the idea of my friends knowing I'm gay." "You gonna tell Chris and Justin when we get back?" Joey asked. Lance nodded. "Are you okay with it? Being gay, I mean." "I suppose I'll *have* to be. Joey, this wasn't a recent decision. I've known how I feel for a long time. I just wasn't ready for anyone else to know." "I know. It's scary dealing with this, I remember. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Lance's eyes lifted. "Yes. You can tell me what's bothering *you*." "Nothing. I'm just tired, I guess." "Deeper than that. You're afraid of something that you feel." Lance paused, letting his gift seek further. "You feel like you had something wonderful, but you've made it sad. Won't you tell me?" Joey fidgeted nervously. "If you tried you could get the answer from me without me saying a thing. This...fear...is so much a part of me that you could detect it without me even knowing, I bet." "Probably. But as much as I want to know, I wouldn't do that to you." Joey stared into the brilliant green orbs. "You wouldn't, would you? Lance, sometimes I worry about you. The world is so cruel - it destroys people as sweet and special as you, because it doesn't *understand*. Maybe it's the contrast, that some things glow so brightly that everything around them seems darker. Dammit, I'm not making any sense..." Joey, overwhelmed by feelings of stupidity and defeat, placed his hands over his eyes. Lance pulled them away, concern evident on his fair face. "Joey, please don't feel hurt because of me. You *do* make sense. I understand." Joey smiled grimly, and before he could stop himself he briefly touched the spikey blond hair. "You do, don't you? You always understood." "This is about me, isn't it Joe? What you're scared of? If you can't say it, open yourself up and let me feel it." Joey shook his head, his eyes beginning to fill. "I *can't*, Lance. If I do that nothing will ever be the same again. You might turn away from me and I can't lose you..." The blond's hands squeezed his. "You *won't*, Joe. Sharing feelings closes the distance between real friends, and that's what *we* are. But while you're hiding this I feel like you're miles away. I've never felt that before, and I don't like it." Joey's eyes closed for a moment. "Like we're drifting worlds away." "The space between us is growing. Can't you feel it? It fills the whole room." Joey said nothing. "Joe, you've always trusted me. Trust me now. *Please*." Joey gazed at Lance for what seemed to be an eternity, his heart aching for the pain emanating from the pretty features. Usually looking at Lance gave Joey a wonderful feeling of warmth inside, but this time he knew only guilt for the worry he was causing his friend. //Screw *me*. He deserves to know.// Joey sighed resignedly, and locked his eyes on Lance's. Opening his heart, he gathered up his hidden feelings and mentally tossed them to Lance, like the way Joey and his brother had used to play catch. The serpentine eyes fluttered as Lance caught the 'ball', and widened slightly as he realized what Joey had been keeping from him. It was an inexplicable warmth that Lance gave to Joey, an intense desire to care for and protect the younger man, a strange sort of music that their two souls made together. It was an affection deeper than brothers or bandmates. It was... Love. The beginnings of real, romantic love. It had been J.C.'s dilemma Joey was struggling with all this time. Lance's eyes began to tear as the sweetness of the emotion flooded his being. Joey mistook the reaction, and slumped where he sat. "Lance, I'm so sorry, I didn't ask to feel this way..." "Neither did I. But there it is. I wish you had this gift too, Joey. Because if you did you'd know that everything you just shared with me...I feel it for you too." Joey stared, frozen, at the bass singer as shock, disbelief and joy fought for control over his expression. He couldn't form words just yet, but Lance understood, and nodded. "Guess we were scared of the same thing - losing one another. But Joey...I think maybe we've...*found* eachother." Joey smiled, tears spilling over his cheeks. His hands moved upward and came to rest on either side of Lance's face, caressing the flawless skin. He moaned softly as Lance leaned into the touch, and drew the blond's face closer to his own. As their lips met, Joey's arms slid behind Lance and pulled the teenager to him. The kiss deepened slowly, tears growing cold on the flushed faces. When they pulled apart Lance rested his head on Joey's chest, listening to the heart beat, and feeling one arm encircling him protectively and the other hand stroking his hair. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply into the warmth enfolding him. Neither knew what to say just yet, so Joey gave in to his thoughts as he fingered the golden spikes. One thought rose above all others. //It makes sense now. This is why I've always wanted Lance, even when I thought it was impossible. Why I couldn't make any other relationship matter to me. Why I hated every guy and girl who ever looked at Lance longingly. Why we've stuck with eachother despite all our differences. //We belong together.// Words came to Joey at last, and he whispered them through the smile nothing could have taken from his face. They were Lance's words, and the blond sighed contentedly, with agreement, upon hearing them. "I understand." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chris strolled cheerfully into the Harless home, relieved that all seemed calm. But his eyes narrowed with worry as he heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting, and the oldest 'Nsyncer followed the noise to the first-floor bathroom. Upon reaching it, Chris stood in the open doorway and gasped at what he saw. "Shit." Justin was leaning over the toilet, throwing up into it almost violently. His breathing was reduced to short sobs, and the lithe body was trembling in the throes of sickness. J.C. was sitting on the floor behind the boy, his arms wrapped around Justin, holding him over the toilet bowl. After a minute, the curly-haired blond slumped weakly into his boyfriend's embrace, and J.C.'s panicked face looked at him anxiously. "C, is he okay? What happened?" J.C. looked up, finally realizing Chris was there. As he spoke, he shifted the limp body he held until Justin was cradled carefully in his arms, his head resting on J.C.'s shoulder. "I'm not sure. A few minutes ago he was fine, then all of a sudden the color drained from his face and he ran in here." Chris observed the boy. He *did* look pale, but not flushed. Justin was breathing shakily, and his eyes were closed. "Does he feel warm, C?" J.C. shook his head. "A little cold, actually." "Okay, not a fever then...we should take his temperature, though. Just in case." Justin seemed to wake up a little at this, burying his face in J.C.'s shirt. "Don't let him touch me," he whimpered. J.C. closed his eyes at the painful realization of what Justin was talking about. Gently, he began to rock him. "It's okay, baby, it's Josh. No one's touching you but me. You're safe, angel." Justin then began to relax, his breathing becoming regular. J.C. carefully picked him up and carried him into the living room. Chris followed and they sat down on couches facing eachother, Justin curled up on J.C.'s lap. J.C. soothingly caressed him, entwining his fingers in the short blond curls. "So he's not sick," Chris murmured. "He was remembering. You think we should get him checked out anyway?" "He has an appointment tomorrow morning...Dr. Gorman can take a look at him then. He said this might happen, that the shock of the rape would hit Justin at strange times." "And the memory of it is so awful that it affects him physically," Chris concluded. "Yeah. God, Chris, I can't even imagine...I can't even *imagine* how horrible it was for him. The look on his face when we found him..." J.C. looked nauseous. "C, when you're ready I wanna talk to you about that. It'd be good for you to let it out." "Yeah, okay." The phone rang, and Chris went into the kitchen to answer it. When he poked his head back into the living room, he seemed surprised. "Josh, you remember Detective Larsen? He wants to talk to you." J.C. frowned, looking down at Justin. Chris sat across from them and, somewhat shyly, put out his arms. J.C. smiled, and gently shook Justin. "Baby? Is it okay if Chris holds you for a minute?" Justin, still half-asleep, nodded, his blue eyes remaining shut. He felt himself being lowered and held comfortably in another pair of arms. They weren't as familiar as the ones that had set him down, but they too represented safety, so he relaxed into them. Chris smiled lovingly down at his little brother, and impulsively placed a kiss on the soft curls. J.C. picked up the phone. "Hi, Detective." "Hello, J.C. How has everyone been?" "Um, okay, I guess. As well as can be expected." "And Justin?" "His doctor says he'll be okay, in time." "I'm so glad to hear it. For a while there I...I wasn't sure he'd come back." //You and me both.// "Is something wrong, Detective?" Suspicion crept into J.C.'s voice. "Is this about Korman? the trial?" "No, Korman's trial date has been set for a few months from now. All's well concerning that, as far as I know. I called to ask if myself and Detective Murray could stop by when it's convenient for you - there's a few things we need to discuss with you, Justin and Mrs. Harless." "Um, yeah, sure. Is tomorrow good, around two?" "Perfect. I'll see you then, J.C." "Okay. Bye." "Goodbye." J.C. hung up the phone, a puzzled frown pulling at his mouth. //Wonder what this is about? Probably a kind of follow-up visit, for some sort of closure.// The brown-haired man returned to the living room quietly, smiling at what he saw. Chris, unaware that he was being observed, was singing softly to the teenager resting on his lap. J.C. shook his head with amusement. What *was* it about Justin that brought out the maternal instincts of everyone? J.C. coughed, and Chris looked up, blushing. "Er...hi, C. What'd the detective want?" J.C. sat down, settling Justin back into his arms. "He wants to come here tomorrow, he and Detective Murray. Probably standard procedure...checking up, ya know?" Chris nodded. "Lynn and Justin are going too see Justin's grandma this afternoon, if he feels okay. If you want, I'll talk to you then. About...ya know...when we found him." "If you feel like you can, C." "I do." J.C. leaned down to kiss his boyfriend's cheek. "Now that I have him, I feel like I can do anything." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chris felt the ache in his heart grow as J.C. finished speaking. He groped his mind for the right words. "I'm so...I'm *so* sorry, C." J.C. was struck by the pain in the older man's voice. "Why, Chris? *You* didn't do anything." "I meant sorry in a larger sense. In the sense that no being God ever gave a heart to should have to see someone they love like that. I think, if it had been me, I would have died right there." "I thought I was gonna have to, for a minute." "Huh?" "He had the gun pointed at Justin. The fucking psycho could have used it. I stood there, too terrified even to wet my pants, and I silently made Justin a promise. I vowed that, in life or death, I wouldn't leave him, that we'd be together no matter what I had to do." "And you hold to that promise now too?" "Yes." It was a long moment before Chris spoke, his voice slow and deliberate. "Do you know how Justin would feel if he knew that, C? Don't you think he'd want you to live out your life here to the fullest, even if he weren't here to see it?" J.C. shook his head. "That's just it, man. Whatever my life means, whatever I'm meant to do or learn, he's part of that. Chris, all my life there was a hole in my heart that even music couldn't fill. The night before Justin was kidnapped, when he confessed his feelings for me, he filled that space, and I felt like I had begun to breathe for the first time. When he was yanked away from me, my heart went with him and left a walking corpse behind. If I were to lose him again, what would I be but dead for a third time?" Chris felt his eyes filling at the conviction in J.C.'s voice. "What if *you* died first? Would you expect him to -" "No." The answer came without hesitation. "Does that make sense? Relationships are supposed to be equal, C - give and take." "It doesn't *have* to make sense, Chris. Love isn't logical, and it isn't meant to be placed on scales and weighed out in equal measure. It's something you feel and do. The promise I made to Justin, like my heart, I gave freely, without obligation. I'd never ask it from him, and I know *he'd* never ask it of *me*. It's just...one of those things." "That you can't explain?" "I guess. It's like...he's the light that allows me to see my path, an illumination stronger than any darkness. I know that, if asked, he'd probably say something similar of me. But it may be that that light of his is strong enough for him to keep going if I were gone." Chris didn't buy it. "And that kind of reasoning - it doesn't hurt you?" J.C. sighed. "Chris, I hate being away from him long enough to go to the *bathroom*. But how could I begrudge the world someone like him?" "Josh, Justin is special, all right. Seems like almost every person who meets him gets this need to protect him. But you talk about him like he's a saint. He's *not*, C." J.C. smiled. "Have you ever been in love, Chris?" "Honestly? I'm not sure." "To me, Justin's perfect. The psych major in you thinks that's dangerous, correct?" "Yes. The higher a pedestal is, the easier to fall off of it. He *has* flaws, C." "I know. But Justin's not perfect to me because he's flawless - he's perfect to me 'cause I'm in love with him. It doesn't shock me every time he makes a mistake - I've been his best friend since he was twelve, Chris, and there's *still* stories you haven't heard! But it's the whole package I love, flaws and all." Chris looked at him for a minute. "C?" "Yeah?" "Could you not say 'love' and 'package' in the same sentence? For some reason it creeps me out." Both men broke into a refreshing peal of laughter which, to their mutual relief, lightened the heavy moment. ~to be continued~ Questions, comments to DaraLynn_writings@hotmail.com No flames please; I'm pyrophobic and will screech like a little girl. Well, 5'5" *is* pretty little, but - I'll shut up now. :)